.･:★ DEVIL MAY CRY

DANTE SPARDA

FANCY SEEING YOU HERE: I II III IV

.･:★ CALL OF DUTY

SIMON RILEY

DRUNK IN DA CLUB: I II III IV

REWARD ME, WON’T YOU DARLIN’?: I II

HOME EARLY: I II

IN THE RING: I II III IV V

JOHN MACTAVISH

YOU WEAR ATTENTION LIKE IT’S PERFUME

JOHN PRICE

HOME FOR SUMMER: I

.･:★ DC

JASON TODD

The timestamp of your last message suggested you would be finishing up in five minutes. He could survive that.

“Excuse me sir, could I see your ID?”

Guess not.

Simon turns slowly, cigarette still pressed against his mouth, “Not a student,”

The guy plants his hands on his hips, the buttons of his shirt strain against his extended stomach as he puffs his chest, he settles Simon with a carefully neutral expression, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave then, this is a student only zone,”

Simon’s eyebrow twitches, he lowers his cigarette and faces the guard fully in show of respect. Only because he knows you’d hate for him to cause a scene, “‘M not inside any buildings mate,”

The guard narrows his eyes at being called out but quickly finds a new excuse, “This is a non-smoking area I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Simon stubs out the end of his smoke on the nearby metal bin before throwing it out instead of flicking it like he normally would— just to make a show of being good. He slips his mask back over his mouth and shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket waiting for the guards next excuse.

The man huffs in exasperation, growing increasingly annoyed at the roadblocks Simon keeps throwing his way, “What is your purpose for being on campus?”

Simon shrugs his shoulders, now feeling the urge to be inconsiderate, “Don’t see how that concerns you,”

“All cases of loitering concern me, do I need to escort you off campus myself?”

He can’t help the way he scoffs at the threat, “Not loitering.”

Seriously where were you? Five minutes had surely passed and he still wasn’t seeing any sign of classes ending, the doors closed tightly against the cold weather.

The guard makes a step forward, “Alright, enough with your excuses, time for you to go,”

Simon instinctively steps back when an arm reaches for him, “Hands off,”

A ruddy flush overtakes the man’s face, “Sir, either I escort you out or I call the police,”

Simon is so concentrated on not punching this guy’s lights out that he doesn’t even notice you sidle up to him until an arm loops through his. When he looks down at you, you’re not looking at him however but greeting the guard with a warm smile. He’s about to drag you off campus when he feels your nails sink into his arm.

“Hello! I’m so sorry if my partner caused any issues, I asked him to pick me up because my car broke down and my class ran overtime,” you put on your best apologetic expression, ignoring the way Simon’s gaze is burning a hole through your temple.

The guard looks between the two of you for a long moment before rolling his eyes, “You’re lucky you got here, was just about to call the police,”

You place your other hand on Simon’s arm and move in the direction of the campus entry, “Again, I’m sorry if he caused any trouble, we’ll be leaving now.”

The guard turns on his heel and walks off from wherever he came from, Simon watches for a second longer until he feels another tug at his arm. When he looks down, you’re already looking at him with a questioning gaze.

“What did you do?”

Simon frowns, “I didn’t do anything, was just standing here love,”

You roll your eyes as you start walking to the nearest cafe, “Well clearly you did something, I’ve never seen him so pissed off, you’re lucky I’m polite to him on my walk in,”

“Accused me of loitering of all things— probably thought I was here to sell drugs,”

You raise an eyebrow, “Well,” you tilt your head, looking over him in thought, “You’re not exactly one to blend in are you?”

“Was trying,” he mutters, “Until that dickhead decided he had it in for me,”

You tap your chin, “Yeah, wasn’t exactly as friendly as I remember him being actually,”

Simon sighs, glancing at you through the corner of his eye, “Guess I’m lucky my partner was there to save me,”

You flush at his teasing tone, “Oh sorry,” you dramatise, “Was I coming on too strong? I was under the impression since you basically live out of my apartment that you were my partner,”

Simon barks out a rough laugh, “You haven’t given me a key yet, I didn’t want to assume,”

“You’d find another way in even if I didn’t give you a key,”

“Should probably replace the locks on your windows,”

Jason is staring like a deer caught in the headlights, helmet tucked under his arm and paused mid step. You can’t make out much from the darkness in the room and the way your eyes are still bleary from sleep.

“Jay,” you mutter in acknowledgment, rubbing your eye aggressively in attempt to wake up, you can just make out the way his shoulders slump.

“Didn’t mean to wake you.” he murmurs, rolling back into a forward step as he changes.

You only hum in response, lazily watching his routine as he packs his things away, you’ve long adjusted to his erratic schedule but there’s always a lifting weight that comes off your shoulders when comes home. You sink back into the mattress beneath you, resting your hands on covers as he undresses.

“S’later then normal,” you comment, glancing at the time on your phone, its brief light is blinding before you flip it over on the bedside table.

“Ran into trouble,” is all he grunts as he unlaces his boots.

“‘Course, what’s new.” you huff.

Your usual sarcasm is met with silence, which in itself raises a red flag since you’re certain Jason never passes up on an opportunity to be snarky. With renewed apprehension, you watch as he steps out of his uniform with jerky, rushed movements like he can’t wait to shed out of it. You expect him to disappear into the bathroom once he’s just in his underwear, it’s normal—usual, for him to want to shower before bed, but you find yourself accomodating for him by lifting the covers when he inches closer.

Without word he kneels onto the bed before situating himself on top of you with a signalling tap against your thigh— spread. You shift, the fabric of your shorts rises even more as he runs his hands along your sides until he comfortably lies between them. His head resting comfortably on your stomach. You can see the lines of his back rise and fall with a heavy breath when your hands come to thread through his damp hair.

For a moment you don’t say anything, just quietly run your fingers through his hair, occasionally scratching at his scalp until the thoughts running through your mind seem to be burning a hole through your skull with worry. As if feeling your anxiety, a rough hand pushes your t-shirt up over your stomach. You watch curiously as Jason tilts his head, face now pressed against your stomach as he layers kisses around your navel.

You hook your finger under his jaw until he looks up at you, chin now resting against your stomach. He looks so tired, “What happened tonight?”

“Don’t worry—”

“Jason,” you cut in, brows furrowed with undecided worry or anger, “You can’t just lay here and expect me not to worry, are you okay? Are you in danger?”

Danger. He’s always in danger of his own doing, something he signed up for long before he met you. And while you’d never told him to quit directly to his face, he sees with passing look how much you don’t want him out there, don’t want him leaving the comfort of a shared apartment—a shared bed.

“Always in danger sweetheart, you know that—”

“Don’t brush me off—”

“Are you going to let me get a word in tonight, or not?”

The click of your teeth as you snap your jaw shut is loud in the quiet of your bedroom. An apology is already formed on the tip of his tongue ready to roll off when he feels your fingernails drag up and down his shoulders.

“Talk.”

“I—” he sighs roughly, digging his nose into the soft divot of your stomach. You could almost see the thought bubble swimming above his head. The way your fingers tug at the hair at the nape of his neck has him reflexively looking up in attention, “Just reacted stupidly—gullible, something I haven’t done since— for a long time.”

You hum but remain quiet, pieces of a puzzle are starting to float around in your mind. His arms tighten around your waist, pressing his cheek flat against you as he continues, “Didn’t think it would affect me that strongly, I felt blinded and out of control,”

“You don’t look injured,” you comment.

His shoulders melt into the mattress when you apply deeper pressure with your nails, “Didn’t escalate that far.”

You frown, “So you didn’t get into a fight?”

He shakes his head, “Information about my personal life somehow got leaked,”

The jolt of anxiety makes your stomach flex in knots, “Your identity got revealed?”

“No,” he quickly cuts off, “Not me.”

You sink back into your pillow, looking up at the ceiling in thought. If not him, then who else’s identity could have been leaked? Couldn’t be one of his brothers, and even if it were he wouldn’t react so strongly—so anxiously.

“My identity?” You cautiously whisper. “From when you walked me home that night,” you piece together, looking towards the wardrobe where his helmet sits, covered.

The muscles of your stomach tense with how deeply Jason is sinking his face into it, you think you can hear an apology but its so muffled that you can barely make it out.

Unconsciously you unwind in relief, or maybe shock, you're not entirely sure how to feel about someone using your identity to taunt Red Hood.

"Is that why you're so worried? Someone used my identity to get a rise out of you?"

Jason rises up on his elbows, his gaze so steely that it makes you pause, he's never looked at you like that before, "A rise? These people don't say things to get a rise,"

Your hands slide off his shoulders and drop to your chest, "Well they obviously wanted something from you if they're trying to use me as a bargaining chip,"

He shakes his head incredulously, "You're not taking this seriously,"

"I'm not worried, there's a difference," you clarify.

"What do you mean, you're not worried? Someone is out there, threatening your life against me and you're not worried? You should be terrified—"

You cradle his jaw in both your hands, effectively cutting off his rising tone, "I'm not worried," you repeat, dragging him closer, "What's there to worry about?"

"What if I'm not there?" he whispers finally.

You smile, it's a real risk that scares you, but it's what you signed up for when you met him.

"I trust you."

There’s a beat of silence, briefly you can see the gleam of his eyes staring into yours, “That’s it?”

With his lips hovering mere inches above your own you can’t help but break eye contact to glance down, “That’s it,” you murmur, “I trust you, Jason,”

His deep exhale fans lightly over your face, “I have to be the luckiest man alive right now,”

Gently you tuck a strand of his blonde fringe behind his ear, only for it to fall stubbornly back in place, “Well you can count your blessings later, c’mere.”

Without hesitation he leans down and melds his lips against yours, it’s slow and consuming as he pours all his restless energy and thoughts into it. You would think this is the last kiss you’re ever going to get with the way his hands rush under your shirt in desperate attempt to have skin on skin contact.

“Jay.” You murmur against his mouth, he doesn’t pull back, instead tilting your chin up to pull you in deeper. Eventually you have to separate by gently pushing him back by his chest, his breaths are almost heaving in the quiet of the apartment. You frown in worry as he bows his head, refusing to meet your gaze but instead pushing your shirt up insistently until it’s hoisted over your head.

His warm hands settle over your bare chest, before he can lean down once more, you settle your hands over his, digging your nails into the top of his hands, “I’m here, Jay,”

“I know,” he rasps.

“I’m here, Jason,” you urge, trying to meet his gaze in the dark, “I’m not going anywhere.”

When he chooses not to respond, you readjust your grip on his forearms and guide him to flip over, he goes down easily as you sit yourself on his lap. His hands automatically reach for your waist, the callouses on his hands feel rough against your skin as you anchor your hands either side of his head. Even in this position, he’s doing everything in his power to avoid your gaze until you sweep his hair off his forehead, forcing his curtain of safety to be pulled away.

“Where’s your head at?” You murmur.

“It’s here,” he tries to defend, but even that sounds weak and distant.

“No it’s not,” you retort, pinching the side of his neck softly, “You’re paranoid and thinking about anything but what’s in front of you,”

“Can you blame me?” He scoffs.

You lean down, balancing on your forearms, “Trust in yourself, I know you’ll find a way out of this,” you kiss him softly, pulling away before he can reciprocate, “You’ll fuck them over like you always do,”

The quirk of his lips and amused exhale feels like a win, his hands trail further up your waist until they settle around your rib cage, “And when you do,” you continue, swooping down to trail a line of kisses down his chest, still salty from the sweat earlier, “I’ll be home waiting to celebrate,”

“You’re too good for me,” he mourns, watching as you lower yourself further, “Should be with someone who isn’t in this shit—works a nine to five or somethin’,”

It’s your turn to scoff now, glancing up at him through your lashes, “A nine to five, really? You expect me to give up one of the smartest,” you drop a kiss against his sternum, “Most attentive,” another kiss, “And handsome man I’ve ever met, for what? A guy who works in an office?”

You look up at him with full attention now, settling squarely over his crotch which twitches beneath your weight, “Does that really sound like me?”

Jason let’s put a long wounded breath, “The glasses you’re wearing look a bit rosy, love,”

“Not wearing anything Jay, do you need me to prove it?”

You plant one hand on his chest and rock your hips forward in a slow slide, your shorts offer a modest barrier against his cock which twitches with interest. Jason drops his arms uselessly either side of you, content to let you control the pace as stares you down.

“You are the most difficult man I’ve ever met,” you huff, shiver crawling down your spine when a particular grind bumps against your clit.

“Fail to see how I’m being difficult right now,” he grunts in return, shifting his hips up.

You gasp when it offers more friction to move against, “Shut up.”

The chuckle that rises out of him makes you smile, but it quickly turns desperate when he starts to move his hips in time with yours. Your shorts have long shifted to the side, leaving you bare as a wet patch forms on the front of Jason’s boxers. You can feel how hard he is through the damp fabric beneath you. Eventually you drag your once planted hand, down his chest until you reach the hem of his underwear.

“Take them off.” you shove impatiently.

He doesn’t even have the mind to reply with a snarky retort as he shoves them down far enough. You raise your hips so he can kick them off all the way before lowering yourself once more, this holding the base of his cock as you lower yourself on top of him. He groans, gripping your hips so tightly you can feel the indents of his nails digging into your skin as you slide his cock through your wetness.

You dig your own nails into his shoulders when he tries to shove you back and forth against him, “Stop that,” you hiss, “Keep moving me around and I’ll get off,”

“Takin’ too long,” he moans impatiently.

You grasp his jaw, squeezing him tightly until his lips pout awkwardly, “Not a fucking race, Jason,” you huff, “Lay down.”

Begrudgingly you can feel his fingers slowly pry off your hip one by one until they back against the mattress. When you’re satisfied, you lean down and press a chaste kiss against his lips in praise— he’d comment about the mockery of it all if he weren’t afraid you’d make bank on your threat. So instead, he curls his hands into fists against the sheets and lets you slide over his cock. It’s hard to see in the dark, but he can feel you making a mess of it with how wet you are, can only focus on the hitch of your breath when the head knock against your clit.

“You here with me?” You ask, looking down at him through hooded gaze.

He’s speechless in that moment as he takes you in. Hair askew, chest heaving, and those damn shorts uselessly pushed aside. It was testing his patience, he could barely think as you kept moving at that maddeningly slow pace.

“M’here.” he breathes out.

He raises his hands so cautiously like he’s afraid of spooking you, but when his hands settle against your waist once more he relaxes. When he looks distracted you lift up, panic flashes across his face, instinctively his grip tightens but you don’t let it deter you as you line his cock up against your entrance.

“Wait—” he feels wholly unprepared as you sink back down, every fibre in him is fighting the urge to slam into you until he’s fully seated.

“Fuck,” it’s a guttural sound as he clenches his eyes shut, neck craning towards the ceiling as you sit flush against his hips.

The sentiment echoes in your mind, unable to produce any noise yourself. Your hands settle back on his chest, the muscles flex beneath your touch as he forces himself not to move.

The first twitch of your hips is to get comfortable but it has him breaking down, “Fuck—please, baby, can I move?” Once the words start they can’t stop, he blinks his eyes open reluctantly, convinced you’re an angel with the way the moonlight highlight yours silhouette, “Please, let me move—I’ll take care of you, I’ll be so good—”

You lean down until your chest is flush against his, the movement makes you clench down— but it’s worth it to see the way Jason looks seconds away from losing it. Your arms bracket either side of his head, you can see every minute expression flicker across his face at this proximity— the desperation of it all makes you smile.

“Come on then Jay, you gonna take care of me or what?” You whisper.

It’s all the signal he needs to wrap his arms around your waist, planting his feet on the mattress below as he rock his hips upwards. The impact is loud as his thighs slap against your ass with each desperate thrust. Every breath and sound you make rings clearly in his mind as they pour into his ear. Without notice he keeps one arm around your waist and uses the other as leverage to push you both up into a sitting position.

The deep push of his cock inside you makes you gasp, wrapping both arms around his neck for better anchorage. He keeps his eyes trained on you as he slides his hands down until they’re resting underneath your ass. You can’t seem to stop the breaths that pour out of your mouth when fucks you up and down on his cock without restraint.

You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly when you reach the crown of his head causing him to tilt back with a grunt.

“Doing— so well,” you pant through broken speech, “So good for me Jay, always know how to take care of me.”

His eyes flutter lower when you lead a line of kisses down his neck, he thrusts sharper when you sink your teeth down in the space where his neck and collar meet.

“Fuck’s sake.” he grounds out, digging his face into your shoulder when you let go of his hair.

When you roll your hips to meet this thrusts it’s game over. He pulls you forward by the small of your back until there’s no space between the two of you and forces you down roughly one last time until he spills over inside. You can feel his chest vibrate with the sound he lets out, but you keep rolling your hips desperately chasing that same high until your thighs tremble around his waist.

“Jay—” you whimper.

“C’mon, I got you.” he replies, guiding your movements until you come undone.

He feels your nails sink into his shoulders and the way your core tenses around him before you turn into a shuddering mess. He holds you close, wincing at the way his now sensitive cock shifts against your walls.

In the dark of your apartment all that can be heard is the sound of mutual panting, the feeling of warmth wrapped around each other, and taste of sweat.