#hell of a summer jason x reader

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Ice cream for two

Jason x fem!reader

warning : fluff, kinda flirting, mutual feelings, Jaoson is just a sweet shy horny guy, ice cream as an allusion to many things ;)

Summary : What could be better and more delicious than ice cream on a hot summer's day? They wanted to make ice cream for the participants themselves, but with a broken old ice cream maker, nagging teenagers and two leaders who paid more attention to each other than to their tasks, it seemed that a number of things could go wrong.

info : So I'm slowly coming back after my exams, I'm trying to resume my regular upload schedule, request and I hope you continue to enjoy Jason. Thank you for all teh support and have fune readin ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the summer, there was nothing better than having a cool drink, whether it was a glass of fresh water, a sweet, delicious lemonade or, in any case, a tasty ice cream.

From vanilla to strawberry to chocolate and raspberry, every flavor could be transformed into ice cream and enjoyed in the cool.... this was true for almost everyone in the small town, except for the summer camp, which, under the heat, was just like everyone else.

Because even if the forest and the trees surrounding them provided shade, it was not as cool as a delicious ice cream.

The teenagers and group leaders had sought refuge in the dining hut, where there was the only working fan and at least something like a breeze.

,,Can we get an ice cream here too?” Jason heard the younger boy's whining voice in the main area at the table, and they were trying hard not to move unnecessarily.

One thing the bearded man could understand was that since waking up, they seemed to have been fried under the sun.

Swimming in the lake was cool, but sooner or later they would become fish before they could even do anything.

Turning away from the door, he gave the younger ones an apologetic glance and turned back to his colleague, who had been trying to get the ice machine to work for an hour. ,,No luck?” he asked cautiously, looking at the machine lying on the floor.

Her head had disappeared under the machine with a torch and wrench, and the rest of her body moved from time to time to get at parts of the machine.

,,No, Jason, that thing is at least twenty years old... don't want to destroy your dreams, but if that thing starts up, the ice cream will be radioactive,” she said, coming back out from under the machine.

He helped her up with his hand and resisted the urge to wipe a bit of dust off her body or to touch her again, they were here for ice cream, not for overflowing hormones.

The radioactive ice cream maker in question was from the early days of the fight, back then, it was probably the most modern and newest device, but now, despite being cleaned and tried to be improved, it was more of a scrap heap than anything else.

But they had the ingredients here and the fridge didn't have enough capacity to hold everything. ,,It'll be fine, just give it a try, and if not, well, there's fruit puree and milk” he tried with a smile and went to the bags of fruit and cans of milk, which were tipped into the cool metal tub.

Unable to stop herself from smiling, she watched the blond man as he went about his work like a busy little bee.

No matter how nervous he was, the harder he tried, the less he seemed to see her, her feelings and the love she felt for him. It was almost as if he was blind to her advances...but that could always be changed.

After the machine had started and the ingredients had been cooled and processed into ice cream, it was time to wait a little.

She sent Jason to the storeroom to get the ice cream cones so that they could serve the ice cream better.

He hadn't thought about anything, of course he would get everything for her, would do anything for her, not only because he liked her, they were watchmen for the kids.

How she says my name so sweetly, he thought to himself as he carried the box of waffles into the kitchen and was puzzled to see that the kitchen had become more of an ice bath.

The old ice cream maker seemed to have done its best to form a uniform mass from the ingredients.

This also seemed to have worked for the first minute he was gone, but now the relatively solid mass had turned into a liquid avalanche of sweetness.

A bright, sticky, sweet liquid that should have been vanilla had just spilled all over his crush.

,,Are you okay? Do you need a doctor? Did the machine attack you?” he asked in panic and put the box down to rush to her, almost slipping on the mass that had spread everywhere and she had to support him slightly so that they both didn't go down.

But his panic met her amusement; she seemed to find all of this extremely funny, unlike him, whose mind seemed to be thinking other things again.

When he saw the individual drops running down her, she began to remind him of something else as she licked her lips and sighed.

With her fingers she wiped away the substance and licked it off to roughly get rid of some of the sticky ice.

Such an innocuous situation, his mind kept thinking further, in a direction that made him look away...he had helplessly fallen for her. But was it the same for her? Was she just playing with him? Or was she honest?

,,Attack is a good word for it. As soon as you left, the thing went berserk,” she explained, pointing to the on and off button, which was visibly fused and thus caused the machine to also run out of control.

At least they now knew that they had to get a new machine for next year, because what was left of the kitchen was a pile of scrap metal.

,,Well, we-we could serve smoothies,” he stammered, slowly detaching himself from her as he looked into the tub and saw that it was not quite solid but also not completely liquid.

Her smirk was music to his ears as she walked past him to the sink, where she turned on the tap and splashed cool water onto her face to get rid of the attempted ice.

His bright eyes lay on her, saw exactly how the whitish substance was washed away, how the 'erotic disappeared from the whole at first and then came back when her top was wetter than before.

The outline of her bra, the ice cream, her eyes and the smile on her lips seemed to come from his own dreams, which were often rather suggestive.

Maybe he was dreaming? He was ashamed, ashamed that he felt like a teenager, he was 24 and a grown man... but she was just so beautiful.

The way she treated him, full of kindness and cheerfulness, never nagging him and joining him in his 'group activities' or helping him with repairs, she was just perfect.

Their eyes met, a wink and giggle as she pointed to his hand, wonderingly following her gaze, he saw that he had leaned his hand directly into a sticky puddle.

,,I think after feeding the kids, we both need a shower,” she said invitingly, giving him that sweet look once more before disappearing from the kitchen to tell the teenagers that it smoothies instead of ice cream.

That didn't matter to them, the main thing was to cool down a bit, and the two team leaders also allowed themselves a cooling down as they both disappeared in the direction of the showers...separately, of course.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@starry-night-life1 , @yearsbecomingcool , @bruhlpng , @wolverrrain , @myromanempire81 , @simonsrealwife , @marsinthespace

[yearsbecomingcool]

working on my fic for jason (hell of a summer) and i just wanted to post this part because i can't stop giggling

[sijssjsbssjsnsnnskbskwns]

Chris X Jason Hochberg X Reader (Hell Of A Summer)

Chris and Jason hochberg (hell of a summer)

Summary…

Y/n L/n

CHRIS X JASON HOCHBERG X READER

Horror/Comedy…

Ship Name Ideas: Jaris, Hochris, and Jachris

…..Songs I think match the vibe of hell of a summer…(2025)…

[ebodebo]

Hey, Waiter!

NSFW CONTENT

next

—you meet jason at one of bruce’s charity galas and you fuck

—jason todd x f!reader

—2.7k+

wanna be on my taglist ? fill out this form !

"Honey, cross your legs."

"Honey, sit up straighter."

"Honey, we're at a gala, not a summer blowout in the Maldives."

These were just a few of the many phrases your mother chirped at you since you arrived at this stupid gala. You didn't even want to go, but your mother preached something about how, "we needed to be a united front since your father was going for reelection as a New York senator" or something like that.

It was stupid. Nobody gives a shit about familial ties; they care about your values, goals, and accolades. But there's no arguing with your mother; she's as stubborn as they come.

So, you'd sit pretty, legs crossed, with a pristine posture, biting your tongue when she says you could be sitting straighter or you could smile more. Granted, it was only a couple of hours, and if it kept your mother from turning the world around you into hell personified, you'd gladly plaster a rictus smile to appease her.

"Oh, there's Bruce!" Your mother quietly says between you and your father. "Let's go say hello," she says, gripping your hand and pulling you out of your chair, gesturing for your father to follow along.

Somewhere along the way, your parents move in front of you, sequestering you behind them. So once you all reach Bruce, he only takes notice of them, issuing a polite welcome and thanks for their attendance. Your mother swivels her head to see you tucked away behind her, bringing her hand out, gesturing for you to come in front.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne," you politely say, sticking your hand out, before introducing yourself. He grasps your hand with only a slight hesitation.

"Pardon my shock. I just haven't seen you since you were two," he confesses. You smile, pulling your hand back before your mother steps next to you and places her hand on your shoulder.

"She's grown quite a lot since then, Bruce. Still a little air-heady, but I'm hopeful the more she ages, the more my personality will rub off on her," she laughs, carefully wiping a piece of loose hair away from your face. You should feel offended, but the way her joke landed so poorly, making Bruce lightly cough the awkwardness away, made you feel pity.

"You know Selina," he says, filling in the silence, gently placing his hand on her waist as she delicately sticks her hand out for your father to shake.

Who wouldn't know Selina Kyle? She was drop-dead gorgeous but as sharp as they came. She was dressed to the nines in a designer black floor-length dress. It must have been Celine or Givenchy, so it was definitely over five thousand dollars, which is just pocket change to a guy like Bruce Wayne.

"Pleasure," she coos, pulling her hand away. Her gaze shifts to your mother, slightly narrowing her eyes. It seems your mother is oblivious to Selina's adversary towards her because she eagerly sticks her hand out, ready for Selina to shake.

"Selina. So good to see you." But, instead of shaking your mother's hand, she crossed her arms over her chest

"Mhm. I wish I could say the same," Selina sharply replied before Bruce put his hand on her shoulder in warning. You gave Selina a small smile, smothering it with your hand. She covered her own with her champagne glass as she took a sip.

"She's joking," Bruce amends, signaling for a waiter going around with glasses of alcohol. "Champagne?" He asks, reaching for two glasses from the waiter before handing them to your parents.

Before any more conversation can occur, a man calls for Bruce. "Bruce," The man says, "When do you want to start?" The man questions. Bruce picks up his arm, turning his wrist to check his watch.

"He said he'd be here by now," Bruce sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. His eyes were scanning around in search of something—rather someone. He does, however, spot Alfred, who he calls over and asks if he'd seen a guy named Jason.

"It was humorous of you to assume Master Todd would abide by your schedule, Master Wayne," Alfred remarks, his face stone-cold. Bruce checks the time on his watch again, then scans the crowd again.

"Just start the silent auction. I suppose Jason will come when he comes," Bruce suspires, clearly agitated. "See you at the auction," he chimes to you and your parents as he sticks his arm out for Selina to take.

"See you," your mother cheerfully says, though you know the cheeriness is just a facade because once Bruce and Selina walk away, your mother instantly drops the smile.

"Can you believe that woman? She was a criminal for God's-sake. She should be thankful that people like us even mingle with her." Your mother scoffs at your father. He hums along, paying relatively no mind to what she is saying.

While she goes on a tangent about how Selina is just using Bruce to get to his billions, you notice a dark figure heading toward the fire escape that you assume leads to the roof. You don't know why, but your brain is fluttering with the idea that you must follow it. So, you do just that.

"I have to use the bathroom," you interrupt, gently touching your mother's hand. You turn your head away from her, not bothering to turn back when she calls your name.

You walk around a corner to see the fire escape latch slightly ajar. Reaching out, you grasp the lever and push it out, quickly feeling the chilly Gotham air touch your cheeks.

Once your foot touches the stone with a 'clack' from your heels, you see the dark figure lying down, smoke clouding around him. He glances at you, taking a drag of his cigarette and huffing out a string of smoke.

"Didn't think pretty girls would come up here." This mystery guy's voice is deep, and judging by his figure, you can tell he's lanky.

"You know the latch and all."

"Are you calling me incompetent?" You cock a brow, hand on your hip with your purse in hand.

"No, I'm callin' you pretty," he says casually, taking another drag of his cigarette, not sparing you another glance. You hate to admit it, but this guy is pretty smooth, but you wouldn't tell him that.

"Who are you?" You ask, taking a few steps toward him and only turning your head to look at the night sky, which is aglow with billions of little stars. You see all the high-rise buildings, light illuminating the dark streets. It's a shame Gotham is so corrupt and unlawful.

"I should be askin' you that, seeing as you’re on my roof," he tentatively says. You can just feel the smugness in his tone, making you roll your eyes.

"You're a Wayne?" You question, arms crossed, slowly stepping closer to him.

"Somethin' like that I guess," he shrugs, which makes you let out a light laugh.

"You guess? You don't know your own family lineage?" You joke, moving to sit not completely next to him but close enough that you could feel the smoke in your nose. You could also see the outline of his face—strong jaw, pretty eyes, fluttery lashes, and nice lips.

"Why are you so curious?" He glances at you with a sly smirk on his lips. You look at him, then at the cigarette in between his fingers.

"You know smoking kills," you inform, pointing towards the cigarette. He lays his head back on the roof, his lips curving into a smirk before retaking another drag.

"You know what else kills? Poking your head around where you don't belong," he puffs out the smoke as he speaks. You turn your head away from him, trying to conceal your smile. This guy is something else, you think.

"Jason," he adds.

Your eyes widen, and your lips quirk. "Ah, you're Jason." You drag out the 'you're,' getting Jason to turn his head towards you. An inquisitive look is plastered on his face.

"So you've heard of me?" He cockily says.

"I know enough about you to know you're flakey," you raise a brow. He lets out a soft laugh.

"Mr. Wayne was looking for you, and so was everyone else," you clarify.

"Oh, please don't tell on me," he fake pleads, clearly being sarcastic. "Especially to Mr. Wayne."

You roll your eyes, though your lips threaten to smile. "I'm sensing some sarcasm."

"Well, aren't you just a modern-day Poirot.”

You widen your eyes, raising your hands. "Wait, wait. You read classic literature?" You gawk, hand coming to your chest.

"I dabble," he shrugs nonchalantly. You eye him, lip quirking.

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises?" You say, holding your two fingers out, gesturing to his cigarette. "Let me take a puff," you insist.

"Ah, ah," he tuts. "What happened to 'smoking kills?'" He raises a brow, taking a puff of the cigarette himself.

"Sue me, but I'm curious," you shrug. He eyes you, wondering if you're joking. He gives you his cigarette anyway. You take a long drag, feeling the smoke cloud your lungs.

"Easy, easy," Jason warns. "Don't take too much, or you'll—" Before he can finish, you start violently coughing, feeling your eyes well up with tears. "Cough," he finishes, taking the cigarette from your hand as you go to cover your mouth.

"You like this shit?" You say through harsh coughs.

"You get used to it," he answers, not paying attention to the question. He's more concerned about you. "You okay?" His tone isn't condescending—it carries empathy.

"Ya, ya. Took too much," you shyly smile, hiccuping a little, turning your head to look directly at him. He laughs lowly. His laugh is deep and gravelly but still sounds kind. You gulp. God, were you getting turned on by a laugh?

You were facing him head-on, and even in the shitty lighting, you could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down and the way his jaw clenched. Your eyes slowly drift down his face, falling on his lips. He had stuck his tongue on his lips to wet them, giving them a glistening sheen.

"Are you thinkin' about me?" His voice is dry. You sharply move your eyes to bore into his, sticking your tongue out to wet the seam of your own lips.

"And what if I am?" You challenge. Suddenly, you can feel your own heartbeat, and your hands are clammy. You can see the gears in his brain working, trying to figure you out.

"Well, are you?" He asks roughly, putting his cigarette out on the roof. You search his eyes, gently biting your lip. His eyes follow you the whole time.

"Guess," you quipped. You hadn't realized you had scooted closer to him, close enough to where he could if he wanted to touch you. This little banter you guys had was getting you wetter by the minute. It was odd. You'd never even met this guy, but you would let him kiss you, maybe even more.

His gaze drifts from your eyes to your lips. "If I were to put my hand under your dress, what would I find?" He gruffly says. Your eyes drift back to his lips, and you bite your own as your chest rises and falls rapidly.

"What would I find?" He urges a little more assertively this time. You rapidly avert your eyes back to him, taking note of the blue hue in his eyes, which has seemingly grown darker.

"Maybe you should find out, Jason," you encourage. Once you give him the go, he's quick to move closer, crushing his lips to yours roughly. It was unlike anything you've ever felt before—like a ton of dynamite just erupted in you, leaving you feeling a buzz on your skin.

You reached up to grab the back of his neck, pushing him further on your lips. He groans as you sink one of your hands into his hair, gripping your waist in his hands and pulling you so you straddle his lap.

"Do you hook up with every girl you just meet?" You murmur into his lips, slipping your tongue between the seam of his moist lips.

"You hook up with every guy you just meet?" He imitates, in between breaths, gripping your waist tighter as you tug on the roots of his hair harder.

"Touché," you whisper, breathing labored as he presses deep kisses down your neck. He works his way down until he is kissing the top of your breast. Slowly, he brings his hands up to slip the strap of your dress down, exposing your breasts.

He kisses a straight line down the top of your breast to your sensitive nipple. His mouth is hot on your skin, especially in a place so sensitive. You moan as his mouth fully encompasses your nipple, lightly sucking, sending goosebumps down your skin.

You reach for his tie, grab it with your hand, hurriedly untie it, and throw it to the side before carefully undoing the few buttons on his jacket.

"It's a shame no one got to see your suit," you murmur as Jason returns his lips to yours, pressing feverish kisses into them before slipping his tongue into your mouth.

"Ya? Why's that?" He mumbles against your lips, as his hands fumble with his zipper trying to pull it down. You slid the jacket off of Jason's shoulder.

"Because you look fucking hot," you say, looking into his eyes, noticing the way his pupils dilate, hunger written all over his face. He quickly slips his slacks down, along with his boxers. Fumbling with the pocket of his jacket, he grabs a condom.

"Really?" You scowl, as he rips open the gold packaging with his teeth, slipping it on himself.

"What? Don't give me that look," he urges, pooling your dress up around your waist, sliding your panties to the side, as he guides the head of his cock inside your glistening cunt.

"Don't act like it didn't come in handy," he appeals as his cock slips inside you easily. You both groan at the contact, gripping each other tighter.

"Fuck, you were wet. Just slipped right in," he grits as you rock yourself against him, desperate for more friction. His hand is in your hair, pushing your face towards his to share messy, hot kisses as his other hand helps you set a pleasurable pace.

You throw your head back as he thrusts into you, eliciting a moan from you. "Fuck, Jason," you mewl as you feel his lips back on your breast, sucking and nipping with his teeth. Your hands grip tighter in his hair, hoping this will give you some kind of stability.

"Feels so good. So fuckin' good," Jason groans as he feels you clamp around him. You press your lips back to his, aching to feel the vibrations of his groans against your face. He grips the sides of your face to deepen the kiss, his teeth clashing with your own.

You continue going up and down on his cock, occasionally he thrusts himself into you to satisfy his urges and lets you grind against him to chase your own high. He takes your nipple into his mouth one last time before you moan so loud you're surprised the Gotham City Police isn't called, and Jason is spewing curses and groans as you both come.

Your bodies are both buzzing and twitching. Chests heaving so heavily you're suprised your hearts didn't just bust straight out of your chests. Jason pulls out once you aren't panting as hard, guiding you off his cock as you fix your dress. He slips the condom off, groaning at the touch, before tying it at the end. Then, he slips his jacket back on along with his slacks.

You haphazardly stand, holding onto Jason's shoulder to keep your balance. Once you gain stability, you awkwardly cough out a bye, unsure on how to make this any less weird and head back towards the fire escape. You only turn when you hear him say something. Turning on your heels, you look back at him, still in the same spot.

"I, uh, never caught your name?" He yells, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

"Didn't throw it, Jason," you shout back, making a lopsided smile grow on his face. Then, turning to go back through the fire escape, you catch a smile spread across your face as well.

Maybe being forced to attend one of Bruce Wayne's galas wasn't so bad.

a/n: jason todd = thought daughter

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[to-the-stars8]

Learning to Love Slowly

Jason Todd x Reader All Chapters AO3

74- Breakfast and Kids

“You gonna have kids soon, Jay,” Roy asked as he closed the refrigerator. 

Dick and Jason looked up at the same time, eyes briefly meeting in a quizzical, quiet question, before looking at Roy. With a jar of salsa, a big bottle of soda, and a bag of chips, the redhead sat down as he looked at his friend expectantly. 

“Well?” Dick asked, his surprise being replaced by a bit of amusement. 

Jason shrugged as he picked up a piece of his gun to click it back into place. “No.”

“You thinking about having kids soon?”

“We haven’t talked about it,” Jason said. Looking up at Roy, he asked, “Why?”

Roy coyly said, “Sounded like she really wanted a kid the other night.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Roy,” Dick said, getting up and covering his ears. Jason felt his face flush and told Roy the same. The last thing he needed was his sex life being aired out to his brother, of all people. 

Roy sat there with a shit-eating smirk on his face, and that annoyed Jason to no end. Yet, it somehow got him to think about your future together. Did you want kids? More importantly, did he want kids? His entire childhood had trauma after trauma, and he wondered if he wanted to bring his kid into a world where that could happen. Then, he thought about what would happen if the two of you got around to kids or something like that. He liked the idea of Halloweens, summer vacations, and family dinners—The whole lot of it. So, Jason grew quiet as he pondered on the idea, playing out scenarios in his head. 

He continued to ponder on the subject until he returned to your apartment. Jason stared up at the ceiling as he listened to your breath slowly lighten. He should just let you sleep, he thought, but the question of children was still swirling through his mind. 

“Babe, I have something to ask you,” Jason said. You hummed a tired 'what'. Hesitantly, he finally asked, “Do you want kids?”

Now, that seemed to wake you up, because you lifted your head to squint at him through the darkness. “What?”

“Do you want kids?” Jason asked again, more sure of himself this time. 

“Babe, what the hell,” You said, looking at the time on your phone. “It’s one in the morning, you can’t be asking questions like that.”

“Oh, um, sorry, I just was thinking about it and…”

“Go back to sleep, it’s too late and we’re both too tired to be talking about serious topics like this. This is a conversation you have after breakfast,” You said. When you laid your head back down the room fell into silence, and Jason wasn’t too content with the answer. He thought about waking you up again, but you suddenly mumbled, “I’d have your kids, though.”

Jason nodded, smiling. You wanted his kids, and that made his heart feel all sorts of feelings. Closing his eyes, he pictured a little him or you running around. A baby with your sweet eyes would make the world a perfect place. 

Pressing a kiss to your head, he whispered, “I’ll make a good breakfast.”

[igotanidea]

Somebody's watching me : AK!Jason x reader

Request: AK! jason hears y/n’s name from his opponent and just goes nuts like he goes home looking for her.

A/N : the requests is a little twisted, as usual, but I hope you'll still like it anon :D

***

It was gone.

His old life was gone.

And with it, everyone he knew before.

All that was left was revenge, hate, rage. And this unstoppable need for killing someone, destroy something, wreck havoc on every single person who did him any wrong.

Bruce.

Fucking Batman.

He was the Arkham Knight now.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Focused on building his position so that no one, no fucking one, would ever hold any power over him.

And if that meant keeping tabs on everyone under his watchful gaze so be it.

And if that meant putting some pressure on everyone who dared to do as much as step a toe over the line, so be it.

And disturbances?

Defnitely not something he was about to allow.

And now he was holding a gun to one of his goons head.

"What did you do?" he hissed, his voice distorted by the helmet

"Sir, I --"

"What did you do?" Jason repeated pressing the metal more into man's head.

"I-- I disobeyed--"

"You disobeyed. And do you know what happens to people who disobey me?"

"Sir, please this is--"

Jason shot in the air and the man almost fell to his feet.

"It was-"

"I'm not going to give a warning shot again"

"I was-"

"I'm gonna count to three now. One."

"There's this girl."

"Two."

"Her name is Y/N."

"thr-- what?"

"She is very distant family, but --"

"Shut up!" Jason yelled, his face twisted with rage, not that anyone could see his expression hidden under the metal. "Shut the fuck up you hear me!" it took him two steps to be in front of the man, yanking him up by the collar and pinning to the wall with brutal force, half-chocking him "you ever do as much as think her name again and I'll kill you and put your head on a stick as a warning to anyone who dare have a thought of himself. YOU HEAR ME!?"

"y-ye-yes..."

"now get the fuck out of here!" the man was violently thrown on the floor, getting up as fast as he could and rushing out the door. It was truly a miracle he lived to tell the tale, cause Arkham Knight was not known for his leniency.

But Y/N.

Someone from his past.

More than someone.

A girl, a woman, he was once in love with.

A woman, whose name he forgot in the pursuit after Batman.

Or rather - tried to forget.

She was the only one who ever got him. The only one to accept him fully, with all his flaws.

His Y/N.

His Y/N who betrayed him just like anyone else. Who forgot him. Who moved on without giving as much as a single thought to him when he was lost. Who was never looking for him.

His Y/N.

It;s been years since he heard anyone mention her. Years since he swore to never get manipulated again.

And then.

Just a few letters mixed together. Just a few sounds.

And she was right behind his eyes, just like he remembered her. Because even his dark side refused to let go of the rememberance of their time together.

Her laugh. Her smile. Her eyes and freckles from the sun, as fleeting as the summer days they were spending together. Her calmness, care and tenderness when she was patching up his woudns, tiredlessly putting on bandaids and stitches.

Fuck!

He didn't need that.

Just another phase of brainwashing. If not from his capturers than from his own men.

Hell no.

He was going to say no to the past life once and for all.

Hunting her down, wherever she may be.

See her for the last time.

Pour hatred in his heart, destroying all the remaining piece of useless softness and caring he carried in his soul.

Burn the last link connecting him to the past down.

***

She was spending the night in her old apartment. Sitting by the same desk, with the same lamp, in the same posture she ever did.

One leg half bent and folded under her ass, the other hanging loose in the air.

"You're going to end up with numbness..." he muttered to himself, watching her from the opposite rooftop.

Obviously she couldn;t hear him, but something made her raise her head and look outside the window while simultaniously changing the position.

Jason smiled despite himself.

His heart skipped a beat and sudden warmth spread in his chest.

Only for a second though, since he rememembered why he was here in the first place.

Look at her.

So fucking good.

So fucking calm and happy, while he-

fuck!

traitorous bitch.

Maybe it was her plan from the very beggining. Conspiring with Batman only to get rid of him, so they could both be free of the burdening presence of a man once known as Jason Todd.

Y/N...

Regardless of how sweet her name may have tasted on his tongue he would rather cut it off than fall down that rabit hole again.

He was cold as ice. Brutal. Cruel. Ruthless.

And it was not going to change because he saw her.

Not in the million years.

She was the reason of his fallout. She should have stopped him from going on that stupid mission. She should have made him stay, showed him she cared enough to keep him grounded.

It was all her fault that that after being captured all he could think about was how she was going to survive without him. How her heart would break into million pieces, instead of figuring out a way to free himself.

It was all her fault that he became the Arkham Knight. Cause inhumanity was equal with survival. And survival meant living. And living meant keeping his legacy.

So yes, he hated her.

He hated her, because every single thing he did and every little thing done to him was because and thanks to her.

She was the reason of him getting on top, but also the person responsible for his failure as a person.

She was nothing.

She was everything.

And for the first time since capturing, torturing and tranformation Jason felt conflicted.

Y/N...

His Y/N...

Not his anymore...

***

When some force made her stand up and come to window all she saw was a blink of metal on the rooftop. And since she spend half of her life with vigilantes, it was easy to realise that this must have been one of them.

But the silhouette of a running man couldn;t have been Dick nor Tim nor any other hero she would recognise.

And despite herself, she felt a shiver running down her spine.

Someone was watching her.

[somewherebetweendisorder]

Gloomy

Jason Todd x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, language

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: smut is so hard to write guys. I tried, but maybe too hard. As always like, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

~~

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY, REPOST, OR USE MY WORK IN ANY WAY.

~~

The air conditioner in your car has been out for two summers. Normally it's not a big deal. Normally you'd roll the windows down. Normally you'd dress for the season. Normally Jason's hulking frame wouldn't be taking up more than his fair share of the cramped cabin. 

But today the Gotham skies have released torrential rains, and the air is thick with uncharacteristic humidity. Jason grumbles from beside you, shifting around in the passenger seat. His fingers twitch against his denim clad knees, tapping out a restless beat. Suddenly he reaches for the AC button, turning it on and off and on and off. 

"God, you're sure the damn thing doesn't work?"

Despite the tacky, wet sweat blazing a trail down your back, and your general frustration with the situation a small smile tugs at your lips. "Yes Jason, I'm sure. The whole thing is bad."

He sighs, loud and long. "Why haven't you said anything? I could have gotten it fixed."

And that's just the thing. At any point over the past two years, if you'd so much as mentioned it in passing to Jason, or Dick, or Bruce -hell, even Tim- it would be a non-issue. You know this, know their generosity knows no bounds for family, and neither do their bank accounts, but this is yours. Be it pride, or independence, this was just something you want for yourself. Even if you're not making progress with the situation, but Jason for all his finer qualities, wouldn't agree. 

"I love you, Jason."

He sighs again, and fiddles with the volume. The rain comes down impossibly harder, and you slow accordingly, the white lines on the road indistinguishable. 

"Just pull over here," he offers, pointing to the parking lot out his window. 

The store is closed given the hour, and the parking lot is empty. Flicking on your turn signal you make the turn, pulling into a spot and cutting the engine. Now the only sound is the tinny patter of the storm on the roof of your car, and the distant roll of thunder. Jason sighs again, attempting to stretch out his knee, which cracks in response. An awkward giggle spills past your lips, earning a crooked grin from Jason.

"Some weather, huh?"

His face is pretty and haunted in the dim yellow light of the nearby streetlamp, skin warm and inviting. The little scars scattered across his face almost glow in the dark, splitting his lip, and running jagged through his eyebrow where the little hairs won't regrow.

"Yeah, some weather," you echo softly, gaze mapping his features. 

He closes the distance, planting a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth before retreating, but not completely. He lingers large in the narrow space between your seats, body twisted towards you. "What's on your mind, ma?"

"You."

It's an honest answer, neither unusual or surprising. He blinks slowly, quiet, waiting for you to elaborate if you wish. You bypass the talking option, twisting around in your own seat, bringing your hands up to cup his face, your thumb skidding gently across the prominent pink-white scar on his upper lip. He kisses the pad of your thumb, teal eyes raking across your face.

And it doesn't take a lot, hardly anything at all to lean forward and close the gap again, pressing your lips so softly against his. It's teasing, gentle, and not nearly enough. Jason lets you do it once, twice, three times before he's had enough and nips at your bottom lip, teeth sinking into the pillowy flesh. You shouldn't give in so easily, you know that, but the action has you breathing out a soft moan, chasing his kiss with fervor. 

You're caught in his web now, planting a knee up on the middle console to follow him as he cranks the seat back as far as he can. He's yanking at the sleeves of your jacket as you tumble on top of him, eager to get it off. Eager to feel more skin, more of you. You slot your knees on either side of his waist, your right knee digging into seat-belt buckle but you hardly notice. Sitting back you pull your arms our of the sleeves of your jacket, chucking it across the backseat as your shirt follows. Large hands settling on your hips he grinds you down against him, eyes darkening as you unhook your bra. His undoes the button on your jeans, tapping your ass so you sit up to help get them off.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful."

He can't seem to decide what to do with his hands. They flex restlessly against the doughy flesh of your hips before flattening against the expanse of your back and tugging you down to him. His lips are on yours again, nearly bruising as you try to form a coherent thought. 

"Want this off," you mutter, tugging at the soft cotton of his shirt, fingers wandering beneath them hem to run softly across the slip of skin. His abs tense in response, a groan getting stuck in the back of his throat. He leans up just enough to tear it off before he's leaning back and taking you with his, lips burning a wet path across your jaw, down your neck and between the valley of your breasts. He's impossibly hard beneath you, and you can't resist the urge to tease him a bit more, grinding down on his arousal just as his tongue licks experimentally across the hardened peak of your nipple. 

It's the same game every time, where Jason knows just what it takes to turn you into a whimpering, sticky mess, but feigns ignorance. Your fingers anchor into the soft hair at the base of his skull, tugging gently. He groans again, finding his way to your other breast to lavish it in the same sloppy love. You try to be still, you really do, his hands firm against your waist, but the calm facade is impossible to manage when he guides you back and forth over his bulge, the friction fanning the flames building low in your gut. 

"Jason please. Please," you gasp out just as his teeth sink into your nipple, just hard enough. "I need you." 

His belt jangles in the stifling air of the cabin, and you huff impatiently when his zipper sticks. Finally you're shoving the denim our of the way, and he slipping his boxers down to pull out his throbbing dick. You hover, too eager, too hot, too hungry to wait, and he's guiding you down, the sound of pleasure ripping from your lungs a little too loud, but he hardly minds. He builds a steady pace, the skin on skin filling the car, the smell of sex thick. One of his hands stays anchored in your hair, tipping your head back so he has easy access to the slick column of your throat and breasts, his other hand on your hip. 

And you're so close, his swollen tip hitting that spongy spot with every thrust up into you. You reach down to play with your slit, chasing that high, determined to hit it together. Your scrape your nails against his navel earning a throaty whimper from the main beneath you, and fuck, if that isn't the most delicious sound. You clench around your boyfriend as your climax crashes over you, dragging him along, and he lets out a harsh groan as his thrusts grow sloppy. 

"Fuck, baby, cum for me."

And that does it. The string that's been stretched tighter and tighter snaps as you gush around his throbbing cock. You collapse against his chest, thoroughly spent. 

"Good girl," he chuckles, knuckles brushing against your back as he pushes your hair over your shoulder. The heat that was so unbearable doesn't seem quite as awful now. 

As you come back into your body thunder booms overhead, startling you as you jerk in Jason's arms. He huffs a soft laugh, tipping your chin up to kiss you on the bridge of your nose. You reach an arm up and draw a heart into the condensation on the window as it begins to bleed little tracks of moisture down the glass. He draws a dick next to it, just for good measure, and pulls you into a kiss. And it's moments like there when you're really glad to be alive; really glad to be with him.

[restwellsoon]

Afterhours

Minors and ageless blogs do not interact (liking/reblogging) or follow! You will be blocked!

Pairing: Jason Todd x F!Reader

Summary: The Red Hood decides to confront you after work regarding a curious rumor you started as an informant. 

/ “You know what I do to bad guys, but what I do to bad girls is even worse.”

Warnings: dubcon, crime lord!Jason Todd/ Red Hood, degradation and humiliation, toys, daddy kink, being called princess, mention of drugs (for the plot)

Scrubbing at your arms to get some kind of warmth, you huffed impatiently. The informant was late. Sure, it was understandable why the Bat would want all contact to be verbal; both of you–well, mainly you–would go down if you were caught. Everyone knew what Cobblepot was capable of. The shorter list of convictions compared to other Gotham criminals didn’t mean that he was less capable, and working for the corporate and legal end of his business meant that you were privy to the real reasons behind the sudden company reorgs.

You shivered before deciding to pace around your office. It wasn’t like the informant to be late. Were they caught? Were you busted? Maybe you should just go home. You spent too many hours working overtime anyway.

The goosebumps weren’t going away. The office A/C that you cherished in the sticky and humid summers of Jersey was now a frigid hell. You weren’t sure of who was punishing you–the Batman or the Penguin.

With the creak of your door, you snapped, “About fuckin’–”

The last word fell into the nylon carpet as you stared into the glowing eyes of the Red Hood. The door slammed shut, and he left it unlocked. It didn’t matter. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get past him anyway. Instead, you froze in front of your desk.

“Yeah, let’s talk about getting fucked.” The robotic drawl of your full name in perfect pronunciation made you grimace as he stepped towards you. Any thoughts of him walking into the wrong office and getting the wrong person were gone. “That was pretty ballsy of you to drop my name in your conversations with the Bat.”

You couldn’t even deny his accusation. You thought you were being clever, that maybe you could do some of that double-crossing shit that the vigilantes and villains played so easily. It seemed easy because you were an amateur; maybe you were fucking up this entire time. All you remembered were the extra zeros in your bank account as you played Batman and your boss.

“Mr. Cobblepot has an image to maintain,” you told the informant–Spanky? Or was it Matches? Either way the name was ridiculous–“so he wouldn’t intentionally let this new drug hit his clubs.”

The latest street drug in Gotham had a similar chemical compound to drugs like buprenorphine and chlordiazepoxide. They eased the symptoms of withdrawal, making a more tolerable and safer transition into sobriety.

“So you’re saying that sobering up his clients isn’t in his best interest?” His mustache twitched, and you wondered if it was glued on or real.

“Exactly. His regular clients would seek out other dealers to get the high they’re used to. They don’t go to the Iceberg Lounge for the atmosphere. They go because it’s one of the safer options to get snowed. Who knows what sort of diabolical shit is mixed into the Black Mask’s supply?”

His mustache wiggled as he hummed. “Well, if it isn’t the Penguin, who else would put this on the streets?”

The informant paid close attention to your words as you paused to give him a new lead. 

“Well, if you're looking for the name of a cartel or gang, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. I don’t know much about its manufacturing or distribution. I work in communications, so…” 

Crossing your arms, you blew some air as you tried to think of a name to distract the Bat and keep your wallet fat. “The only crime lord that would benefit from this is the Red Hood, don’t you think?”

Ever since he first showed up on the scene, he’d been adamant about cleaning up the underbelly of Gotham. His strict rules against selling to kids made the areas he controlled safer. Commissioning this drug and letting it hit the Gotham market was a way to help addiction-addled neighborhoods rebuild. 

His expression was unreadable behind his dark glasses. The only way you knew that he was satisfied with your answer was when you heard your bank app ding with the agreement that you’d meet again in two weeks.

At the time, you thought that mentioning the Red Hood was ingenious. Compared to other criminals, the Red Hood seemed to be less vicious towards women. Since his rise to power, there hadn’t been any reports or news about him or his henchmen attacking them. If the informant wanted you to name drop someone, you were going to choose someone who would maybe spare your life. Yet seeing him up close gave you some doubt.

You swallowed your nervousness as you edged to the desk. Your hands blindly reached for something that could do some damage, but alas, your laptop was packed away and your pens were in their drawer.

“Look,” he sighed, “if you’re gonna play dirty, you gotta make sure your opponent can’t find dirt on you.” It was a roundabout way of calling you a dumbass.

You half turned to watch him circle round your desk, kneeling to dial in the combo to your locked drawer. Stupidly, you got closer when you heard the click that told you he opened it successfully. Using your birthday backwards as the combo was enough to deter nosy co-workers but clearly wasn’t not secure enough to deter a crime lord with a vendetta. If you made it out alive, you promised yourself that you’d change all of your passwords to something with stronger security–you’d even make sure that you didn’t repeat them on several accounts.

“Jesus,” the Red Hood laughed through his modulator, “you got the rechargeable one too? I’m not sure if Cobblefield ain’t paying you shit, batteries are expensive, you’re environmentally-conscious,, or it’s some combination of the above.” 

The sight of a cross-armed Red Hood with your rabbit vibe in his hands was something you’d never imagine in your wildest dreams.

“Your little toy isn’t the only thing I found out about you.” 

Oh god, what else did he find? Your face felt hot from embarrassment.

“Did you know that the sites you go on and the things you search can still be tracked by an establishment’s WiFi network log?” 

He was grinning beneath the mask, you just knew it. Bastard. 

“Yeah, even if you use your phone on private browsing… Crazy, right?”

All you could muster was a choked ‘yeah’ as you tried to recall everything you looked up in the past week. It was highly likely that the Red Hood looked back at least a month. Now what did you search for that wasn’t related to work?

You didn’t have to recall. He listed it out for you in a painfully slow and enunciated manner.

“Red Hood shirtless, Red Hood legs spread, Red Hood dick size, mask or helmet kink, intro to BDSM, what is a service top… And this was just within the past two weeks, goddamn.” He shook his head in judgment. “Should I continue?”

Fuck.

You couldn’t show fear to these types of people, you learned early on in your career. That’s what they got off on.

“What’s wrong with a woman having a healthy sexual appetite?” You asked defensively. “You some kind of prude or what?” That seemed to get a genuine laugh out of him.

“See, here’s the thing,” he told you, helping himself to your luxury office chair, leaning back as his boots settled on the desk. “Everyone thinks that I’m a bad guy, that I just blindly use violence to punish even badder guys. ‘There aren’t any brains under that hood! He’s just some beefy bastard with a fat cock! An idiot! A dunce!’” If he was speaking in some high-pitched mocking tone, his modulator didn’t catch it. It stayed in that robotic monotone.

Jason paused for a second to see if you’d agree, forgetting that a normal reaction was to be scared shitless and mute. When you didn’t make an indication of anything, those combat boots of his hit the carpet with a thud, chair screeching and lurching forward to see your face. Your toy laid forgotten on the desk.

Audibly you swallowed as you looked at him–well, not really him but the mask that he wore, the bright white of his eyes a stark contrast to the cherry red of his helmet. It was the mystery of what he looked like beneath it that drove your imagination wild. What color were his eyes? His hair? How full were his lips? Did he have scars?

As if knowing that you wanted a better angle, he tilted your chin to comply with your unspoken wish. It wasn’t as if it changed anything; you still knew nothing of his looks, but the cool leather of his glove made you more aware of how starved you were of any kind of touch. That healthy sexual appetite you claimed to have suddenly turned into hunger pangs.

“There was a lot of thought put into this plan, sweetheart,” the Red Hood chided.

His glove left your face to press on some hidden panel close to his jaw. There was a soft click that loosened his helmet.

Then you heard him–somewhat muffled and low and incredibly human. 

“See, I’m giving you a pretty sick deal. You get to live out one of your fantasies in exchange for recanting your statement to the Bat. Even if I have nothing to hide, I hate whenever the old man comes sniffing around. Don’t worry. I’ll even promise my protection too in the event of retaliation–from him or Cobblepot. Do we have a deal or not?”

Your voice came out breathier than you realized. “And if I say no?”

He made a show of taking off his helmet, and to your surprise, a red domino mask covered his eyes. Tousling his dark curls, he pursed those perfect lips, “Well, shit. When I was searching through those logs, I figured that you’d be so horny for me that refusing wouldn’t even cross your mind.”

It was starting to make sense why Cobblepot was always irritated after dealing with the Red Hood. You laughed. “Look Hood, the quips were cute at first, but they’re getting old fast. You’re so full of yourself. Now tell me what happens if I refuse.”

“One, if you say yes, you could be full of me too.” You imagined that if he took the domino off that he’d punctuate that sentence with a wink. “And two…”

You could hear the smile in his voice along with something devious. When did he get so close? He was slotted between your legs as you sat on the edge of your desk. The cool feel of his gloves pulled your arms back and held your wrists there, leaving you captive to whatever he had to say.

“You know what I do to bad guys, but what I do to bad girls is even worse.”

“Oh yeah?” you breathed out. Fine, you’d admit it. That was fucking hot. “Then show me.”

“Show you what?”

His thigh nudged your center, pushing your dress skirt up with the motion.

“What you do to bad girls,” you said through gritted teeth. His hold on your wrists kept your upper body in place.

“Say it for me first.”

But that didn’t mean that you couldn’t use your leg to drag him closer. You hooked one leg behind him. Now you could feel his length against you though he wouldn’t budge otherwise.

“Please.” 

Nothing.

“Daddy, please.”

“You can be obedient when you want to be, huh? Fuckin’ brat.” Jason found amusement in your frustration. “Sorry, but those aren’t the right words. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, we have a fuckin’ deal.”

Finally that thick thigh was back to putting sweet pressure on your clit, the Red Hood’s slight movements providing teasing friction that kept you slick.

“Atta girl, princess. ‘Fraid I gotta shut you up for a few though. I know your performance reviews say that you’re well-spoken, but they made no mention of you being so damn chatty.”

Before you could talk about the irony of his comment, Jason let your wrists go and stepped back, using his free hands to unzip his pants and pull out his cock and balls. Your mouth hung open at the sight.

Giving it a stroke upwards, his balls followed the movement. Jason smeared his precum over the shaft, giving it a nice shine before ordering you to lay flat on your desk with your head hanging from the edge. His sack looked heavy and full.

“So this is what you meant–”

“Less talking, more sucking,” he grunted, taking the opportunity to shove the tip into your mouth.

The girth was unexpected as your jaw stretched to accommodate his size. You gave it a suck before relaxing your throat to take more of him. Jason eased into you slowly, watching as you swallowed as many inches as you could before pulling out and smearing his spit-laden cock across your mouth. You jerked him while gently sucking on his nuts, thinking about the reward you’d get if you could edge him long enough. The thought of him filling you up with a big, hot load made your center ache.

So focused on your thoughts, you hardly noticed that Jason replaced himself with your toy, watching as your drool frothed and dribbled down your chin while you gagged.

“Be patient with me, princess,” he murmured as he leaned across your body, vibe in hand, to push your panties aside, cock pressing against your cheek. You tried to move your head to take his length but the Red Hood’s weight made it difficult to do so.

Jason wasted no time shoving the entirety of the toy inside you, making you gasp. If you wanted him as desperately as he thought, then he had to prep you well so you could take him.

“Patience,” he lightly scolded you. “Damn, if I knew you were this needy for Daddy’s cock, I would have come earlier so the fun could last longer.” He placed himself back in your throat.

Slow deep breaths through your nose, you reminded yourself. It was difficult though when he was facefucking you in sync with your toy. There was little room for your moans and sighs to escape.

He most definitely understood your muffled ‘FUCK’ when he turned on the toy though, both shaft and rabbit ears vibrating. Your knuckles were white from desperately clutching at whatever you could; you needed something to keep you grounded from the assault on your clit, toy shaped perfectly to hit your G-spot.

The vibe kept making you moan, making your throat squeeze in ways that would make Jason cum early. “That’s it for now,” he said to deaf ears, pulling out to focus on playing with your pussy. He repositioned himself so one hand controlled the toy and the other held you down.

“Is this all you got?” You taunted, sweat catching the neon lights from the window. Your hair was disheveled and stuck to your forehead. Your legs quivered. You looked pathetic. 

The Red Hood laughed, and you weren’t sure of what you wanted more of–that mocking robotic modulator or the rich tones of his real voice.

“The way your lips are wrapped around that toy tells me that’s more than enough. If you want this,” his cock was still perfectly hard and this angle highlighted the thick veins that lined his shaft, “then we need to take our time. Luckily for you, I have the patience of a saint.”

“Well, I don’t. Sit down, so I can fuck you.”

He was used to more demure requests to ride him, so your brazen words lit something inside Jason. Fuck it, he thought. He was still annoyed at you mentioning his name to Bruce. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he watched you struggle to take him.

The toy came out with a yank, your pussy aching. The emptiness was only temporary though. There was something more filling, waiting for it.

Seeing that slight look of surprise on his mouth was worth it as you pushed him onto the chair, spitting on his cock before straddling him. Your panties were lost in some dark corner along with your bra. Your disheveled office wear struggled to maintain your modesty with loose buttons and crumpled fabric.

“Mmfph–fuck!” 

Your nails dug into the Red Hood’s shoulders as you tried to find your pace. You had about halfway more to go.

“Told ya,” he said smugly, reaching beneath your dress to squeeze your ass. He buried his face in your tits, sucking on whatever flesh he could. You gasped when he finally reached your nipple, his tender suction making you shiver.

“Big motherfucker,” you grumbled, bouncing up and down on what you could with his help.

“Damn, you feel good,” Jason sighed. 

Lately he’d been so focused on the complicated aspects of his line of work; it seemed like he could never just chill and do something for himself. Isn’t that what all the experts say? That self-care was important?

So when one of his informants told him that Bruce and his band of bat brats were poking around his turf, Jason’s first thought was to dispose of whoever Bruce paid off. When the informant said that the rat was the Iceberg Lounge’s hot publicist, he considered his first reaction too harsh, that perhaps it’d be best if he investigated this personally. Oh, he was so fucking glad that he did.

With each bounce, he pushed you lower on his length, and he’d go by half-inches if it meant reaching heaven. Fucking you with the toy first was a brilliant idea. Even though you didn’t say it, he knew you came. That’s why you were struggling on his cock. That cute little cunt of yours was still spasming from your first orgasm. How could anyone be so tight and wet, he thought, and for him.

He sat back and watched as you kept riding him with frustration. Your sweet pussy nectar was pooling at the base, and the lewd sounds it made was music to his ears. But the sound of his balls slapping your cheeks would be even nicer.

“Good effort, princess, but you’re starting to look pathetic and needy and desperate. What?” He laughed, swiping his thumb along your pout. “It’s cute. Daddy’ll take care of you.”

He hoisted you off him with ease, giving you another reason to make your pussy throb. A part of you wanted to ask him to fuck you while standing or maybe against the wall. No! A small rational voice told you. Let’s see what he does first.

Laying you on the ground, he pushed your legs back with your ankles on his shoulders, exposing your cunt to cool air. It was slick and puffy from all the work you put in. Taking two fingers, Jason spread your lips so he could tease your clit. Each little movement made you twitch. 

Perfect, he thought. He knew how to get you where he wanted. The feeling of his thick, heavy tip rubbing your most sensitive spot made your toes curl as you huffed and moaned at his touch. Your hips pressed up in a weak attempt to slip it in. Your heels were nearly dangling off your feet from the movement.

“Since you want this cock so badly, I’ll give it to you, princess, but we’re doing it my way.”

Eagerly, you nodded. Your way, his way. It didn’t matter as long as he was in you.

Yet quickly you found out that you shouldn’t have agreed so readily. He moved impossibly slow.

“It’s a shame,” he tried to make small talk, one gloved hand carefully keeping the distance between you and his cock while the other balanced his weight above you, “that you chose to work for Cobblepot. How bout you work for me instead? Name your salary–I’ll double it. As a bonus, we can even fuck whenever you want.”

“You act as if I need your cock.” 

Ignoring your tone, Jason stated the obvious. You did. Your body practically melted in the carpet when he went completely in.

“Look how full you are. You think you can go back to your toys or another man’s cock after this? I ruined you, princess.” Instead of sounding remorseful, he was proud. “I bet in the days after, you’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout how empty you feel without me.”

You didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of being right–his cock felt so good once you got through that first bit of discomfort–but there was no point in being stubborn. The Red Hood didn’t intend on having you hear him out. He was going to show you.

He fucked you as roughly as you imagined, using long strokes that left both of you breathless. There was something erotic about the sudden silence. There was only heavy breathing and moans, slick sounds and pounding.

And when you came, it was like the lights cut out, eyes squeezed shut for total darkness. The only electricity existed in his touch, sparking waves of pleasure throughout your body.

–

Uncertain if you actually dozed off or not, you woke up to a familiar mechanic hum. He had his helmet back on, his clothes back to their baseline level of grunge. Perhaps it was because of the intimacy you shared, but the Red Hood seemed far less threatening now compared to the start of the night.

“Don’t forget about the deal we made,” he told you, standing near your feet.

Like him, going back to how you normally were was easy now that lust no longer clouded your actions.

“And what if I don’t?” you asked, standing slowly from sore muscles. “Like you said earlier, I am a bad girl.”

“I’ve already planned for that.”

You tried to fix your dress to the best of your abilities. It was no use though. It was a poor victim of your decisions.

“Well, if that’s the case, expect another visit.” 

You stalled, letting the fabric fall as you tried to decipher his meaning behind the modulator. Was that a threat or a promise?

“And next time, I’m coming during office hours.”

You let the warm sensation of his cum sliding down your thighs decide for you.

Return to

Curated Masterlists

Jason Todd’s Masterlist

[storywriter007]

I Still Do - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

summary: in which y/n meets a familiar face after a long time

warnings: cursing, toxicity, heartbreak

genre: angst

word count: 930

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

tossing and turning in her bed, y/n met another sleepless night. she'd been trying to sleep for an hour now with no luck. memories of the past haunted her and dreams of the future preyed on her peace. y/n figured no one would be awake right now anyways, it was almost two in the morning. she snuck out of bed and made her way down to the lake.

she sat on the grass and admired the serenity of nature. the animals, the stars, the rhythm of the water. she sat there in silence and reflected.

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

hearing footsteps, y/n didn't turn around. she was prepared for chiron to tell her to go back to her cabin and that she was to be punished for staying out past curfew.

"what's my punishment for staying out past curfew?" she asked, mindlessly staring into the lake.

"i dunno, i'm no chiron." a deep voice responded, taking a seat next to her.

y/n chuckled, turning to face what she thought would be chiron, but was met with sea green eyes instead. it's like she froze and was thrown into the past.

"hey." percy smiled.

damn it, he still had a nice smile.

"i haven't talked to you in-"

"a while?" she guessed.

"i was going to say forever, but okay." he laughed. "how have you been?"

"pretty good. you?"

"same."

as the awkward small talk passed, y/n slowly recalled how her and percy had become such good friends in the first place. they talked about movies, shows, songs, books, and things that annoyed them. it's like she'd forgotten how much fun he was.

"yeah and then leo was all like 'i'm gonna fight you, don't play with me' and then jason stood up and he fell backwards." percy said, barely being able to communicate as he was suffocated by laughter.

y/n hadn't laughed this hard in years, well two years, really.

"i can't even remember why we stopped talking." percy said, looking at the lake.

"i can't remember either." y/n laughed. "you ever get intimidated by jason?"

"no, he's only an inch taller than me anyways, what do i have to fear?" percy smiled. "the only blonde i'm scared of is annabeth."

y/n sighed. it's like she remembered why they stopped being friends all those years ago. as bad memories came rushing back to her, she became silent.

"dude, you okay?" he asked.

"yeah, i'm fine." she smiled. "i'm just gonna leave now-"

"really?" he sighed.

"mhm." y/n said, sitting up. "nice talkin to you jackson."

"i don't get it y/n. we used to be best friends and one day a few summers ago, you went cold on me." he stated.

she just nodded, staring out into the distance.

"why?" he asked. "never talk to me again, sure. but at least tell me why."

"i've got no answer." she lied.

"liar. you don't even talk to me anymore. you avoid making eye-contact with me. you refuse to be in the same room as me without five other people there. and you've got no answer? i might be stupid, but i'm not that stupid."

"if you weren't that stupid, you would've sure as hell figured it out by now."

"i just want to know why." he sighed.

"i told you. i don't know." she persisted.

"just say it." he pressed.

"i don't know."

"just say it." he pushed again.

"i don't know." she said, beginning to get annoyed with him.

"just say it!" he said loudly.

"i'm leaving." she said, getting up.

"y/n! just tell me!" percy got up and followed.

"because i was in love with you!" she turned around and blurted.

silence fell amongst them.

"what?" he asked.

"because we were good friends, and i thought you cared about me. i mean we ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. we binged countless halloween movies. we played outside all the time. a-and you stuck up for me when annabeth said shit to me. and i thought i you liked me for who i was." she said, remembering all the reasons she'd fell for the man in the first place. "but then you started dating annabeth, and i couldn't stand it." she said, pausing.

he looked at her, his eyes filling with sympathy and regret.

"why didn't you say anything?" he asked.

"because, you chose her." y/n said. "what as the point of me saying anything?"

"i loved you, percy." she said, shakily. "for a long time."

"why don't you want to be friends with me anymore then?" he asked desperately. "if it's in the past, it's in the past-"

"because sometimes i feel like i still do!" you said.

suddenly, they were interrupted.

"percy, what the hell are you doing here?" a familiar voice questioned him.

y/n found herself looking at a woman with curly blonde hair and gray eyes.

"n-nothing." he said. "was jus' talking to y/n." he explained, still looking at y/n.

tension was still in the air.

"yeah, i'm uh, going to bed now too." y/n said, trying her very best to not cry.

"chiron's going to kill us, percy!" annabeth whisper-yelled.

"don't worry." y/n said. "you won't see me again." eyes locking with percy's.

"y/n-" percy called out.

but y/n had started walking back. she turned around one last time to see percy and annabeth walking away, side-by-side, hand-in-hand.

y/n walked back alone, as the only hand for her to hold was her own. y/n walked back, knowing she still did.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The grabbing surprise

Jason x fem!reader

warning: mutual feelings, mention of sex fantasies, groping (consensual, sort of) fluff, kiss

Summary : It should have been a normal watch, a few teenagers going canoeing, making bread on a stick over the campfire and telling scary stories. But when someone as cute as Jason met his co-leader and watchman, everything suddenly seemed to get a lot more...charged.

info : I popped my head out of my hole for a sec to say hi, have fun with that thing for Fred, bye, I'm going back to learning :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a hot summer when the teenagers were brought by their parents to this wonderful camp, a camp for outdoor activities.

A camp where it should actually be possible to do without electronics and not be full of cell phones. A small brochure in which a pretty new rustic-modern camp was advertised... a mistake.

The said camp had its peak in the sixties, now it was rather just a handful of huts with the bare necessities, bunk beds, naked light bulbs, an old couch and a valve television whose static flickering had to be the greatest joy instead of a nice movie.

But despite this 'disappointment', it was mainly Jason and his co-leader who wanted to try to make the best of it.

Of course, the teenagers were not thrilled about the cell phone being taken away or being away from the small town where there was already little to do.

But it quickly became clear that behind the sullen faces and hormonal tension, there was a kind of cooperation, a cooperation in the form of stealing food.

Plundering the beer supply or smuggling cigarettes... small crimes that Jason didn't even really notice, his eyes were only on his colleague.

His opposite, she was the praying mantis and he the little man, a comparison that was immediately apparent in his mind from the moment she got out of her car. She was the complete opposite.

What he had in 'class', she had in money and self-confidence. She immediately connected with the kids, who were fascinated by her car, her makeup, her clothes, and especially the little rule-breaking she did.

,,You have to show them that everything is okay within reason,” she had explained to Jason when she put a small crate of beer outside the hut with a small note saying, ‘Don't overdo it ;)’ and her job was done.

It could be as easy as he had to determine, so easy to deal with the guests, so easy to fall in love with his colleague and so easy to get her no longer out of his head.

He was almost embarrassed by how much he couldn't get her out of his thoughts, how often he looked at her and walked next to her, the knowing glances of the teenagers only made it worse.

But well, he had never felt such an attraction before, it was just so nice, this feeling of love and nervousness, especially now that the kids were mostly keeping themselves busy, there was hardly anything for them to do.

They either prepared dinner together, made the beds or repaired a few things, but that only took a few days and not a week.

Which is why they both usually did their own thing for the rest of the day, although their own thing meant that Jason increasingly disappeared into the forest and came back completely covered in leaves and dirt, always with a smile on his lips when he looked around.

She herself took a book and read a bit, sunbathed or even tried to party with the teenagers and talk to them, which resulted in relatively profound conversations.

It was a positive experience... but even in the circle of teenagers, they noticed how she paid attention to Jason.

The comparison was more like a lion looking at its prey, the way she looked at Jason, but she dismissed it with a simple, ,,Well, he's a clumsy but cute little bear,” and she smiled and hear the talking of the teens.

The cheering and giggling of the kids had perhaps made her smile a little too, but it was true that he was just a cute little bear, a cuddly, scatterbrained furry man who would do anything for her.

He could hardly give her hand, he was so drunk, and his clothes from a different time only made him cuter.

He was like a mama's boy, but less creepy, more like Winnie the Pooh than a creepy brown bear.

She had also lost her heart to him... but her intentions were clear, while he seemed unable to see them.

Because here experience met inexperience, composure met neediness and play met naivety.

Two had found each other, but they couldn't have been more different, just one more reason for them to do something 'more' together.

Everything she had tried so far had been almost pornographic: taking a towel that was a little too short out of the shower and walking past him, bending down extra when looking for firewood, making a few too many distinct noises when bathing in the lake or licking ice cream, she always seemed to find his eyes – it would have been enough for a contract, but apparently it wasn't enough for Jason.

But none of her 'attempts or hints' seemed to work, but she would not give up. Just like that day when she stayed with the kids so Jason could go back into the forest.

She didn't know exactly what he was doing there, but as long as he was having fun, he should be allowed to play a little explorer.

A researcher whose hurried steps made her look up from her place, ,,You're back. How was it, my forest scout?” she asked, putting down the book and rising from the large log that was by the extinguished fire to meet him.

The smile on his lips seemed to grow even bigger when she pulled the leaves and sticks out of his hair and beard.

Something she had done the last few times, a gesture that probably embarrassed him a little and flattered him at the same time.

,,Thank you,” he managed to say, his embarrassed gaze dropping slightly before he remembered what was between his fingers after a brief moment.

She saw a pink grasshopper sitting in his hands. She wasn't the biggest fan of insects, but her curiosity was piqued. ,,It's pink, how pretty,” she said, fascinated by the unusual color, which was unusual for these creatures.

He must have spent hours and days looking for it. ,,Yes! A rare mutation. I got it for you because... well, I-I know you like the color,” he admitted, and his interest and attention mixed with his insecurity the more he looked at his pretty praying mantis.

She wanted to take him into the army, tell him thank you, maybe give him a little kiss, but in doing so, the little pink insect would have been squashed... an insect that, however, had other plans and, with a single jump, landed from his hands in her decollete and disappeared under the fabric of her top.

Her surprised sound was drowned out by his scream as her hands were simply pushed away by his, as a panicked Jason suddenly almost hugged her, ,,Wait! Wait, I'll get it,” she said, and her bright eyes tried to make out the animal under the fabric.

So hastily he tried to get the insect back that he hardly noticed her calmness as his hands moved freely and shamelessly over her body, she wondered who was the insect here. Which of them was touching her more... but something she almost welcomed.

Rough, large hands that squeezed her breasts, probably more out of support and an attempt to get the animal out, fingers that shamelessly slid under her shirt.

Exposing her stomach and hips, and she tried to hold still, fingers gliding over skin, scratching a little as if he were pursuing something, something other than the insect.

A sight he had dreamt of, making him hard like a teenager discovering a porn magazine for the first time, a sight he had imagined too often in the shower, trying to prevent the almost embarrassing sounds that came over his lips.

His hand was nothing like hers; it would be softer, a little smaller, but probably tighter. Her lust-filled voice whispered the dirtiest words to him while he lost himself in her; he was sure that she would take him so well.

In the shower, his back against the cool wall while she knelt in front of him; in the cabin, she would ride him like a cowgirl. Thoughts that came to him not only when he was awake.

He hoped that the running water and the sounds of nature would drown out his lust, but how could he not get hard with her, such a pretty woman with him here. She always seemed so close to him and yet all the more distant.

But all these fantasies and dreams seemed unimportant as he continued to try to catch the animal, which was happily chirping and had now found its way up her torso to her hip and thigh.

Areas of her body that he particularly hoped to be able to touch in secret, now only a little under different circumstances. The grasshopper jumped away when Jason, saying ,,Finally!” and placed his hand firmly on her exposed thigh.

A hand that she felt knead her skin for a moment, the touch wanting to memorize the feel. Asking her if they should sleep together or if she could just move in on her own or if she took over everything.

Was she really a praying mantis and he just a little male?

,,Did you get what you wanted?” she asked the obvious question and her fingers laid on his, pressing them a little tighter to her body. They really were as big and rough as she had imagined, her fantasies and daydreams seemed so real now.

The bear just had to realize what he was missing in his cave when she was right here in front of him.

A question that made him blush, ,,Y-yes-no... no, I mean yes,” he stammered, not knowing what to say to get out of this situation.

She really was a praying mant that only had to snap once to turn his head. ,,I think we should go together next time, so you can protect me from touching insects.” She winked and took his hand before she headed towards the forest that was around the camp, but she did give him a kiss as a reward.

The brave naturalist had saved her, so a kiss was the least she could do.A gesture that only made him blush more and a smirk graced his lips as he followed her, as he always did.

A decision was a decision, and well, you know, praying mantises could wait a long time for another opportunity to strike and get their sweet prey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[trashmouth-richie]

CONFESSION

eddie x fem! reader

TW: no minors, heavy degrading themes of the Catholic Church, smut, corruption kink, virginity loss, Eddie posing as a priest. Slight daddy kink, rosaries not used properly. Umm yeah it’s smut p in v, cum eating. Etc

a/n: I have no words, I’ll see you in the crimsoned room of hell, or purgatory— in that case, please pray me out.

Trudging with untied boots the thud of his clunky soles echo loud in the steeped ceiling of St. Mary’s. He stubs the lit end of his joint out in the holy water, sizzling and emitting one last pathetic puff of smoke. Dipping a tattooed middle finger into the holy water he makes a lame excuse for the sign of the cross, flicking whatever remnants of moisture left into the open air. Keeping his middle finger high for the man on the cross. 

  Every Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday nights at 7 o'clock on the dot, he had come to the brick built and heavily waxed wooden floored church to repent. 

  Father Hopper had gone easy on Eddie when he found him trying to hot wire his car. Punishing him to thirty confessions stretched over two months time.

Father knew Wayne Munson was on the verge of a thin line of patience, and Eddie was on his last strike with Hawkins PD, next step was prison. A shared cell with the other Munson and ex resident of Hawkins currently known as inmate #89432. 

  Fuck it, I’ll go to jail what the hell do I care? Eddie spat at the rickety table in Father Hopper’s poorly lit kitchen.

  “Son,” Father began, sipping a bitter cup of coffee, thumb nails scratching against the ceramic mug, “you don’t want to end up like him.” 

  “Well. I sure as hell ain’t gonna end up like you. White robes and that cardboard dog collar you wear— yeah fuckin’ right.” 

  That was back in May. What started as a desperate plea to steal a car and possibly sell it to get enough money to  skip the prying eyes and whispering licks of gossip tongues about how he hadn’t graduated, again, — ended with him getting assigned the confessions. 

  A stuffy little closet with Hopper’s coffee breath stenching through a grated screen. The dark walls seems to close in on him as he confessed to petty crimes and sex on Sundays. 

  Leaning against the desk that held glass orbs of candles, he spits in the nearest one. The flame sizzling out. And that’s when he hears it. 

  A small giggle from the pew nearest him. 

  He had seen you around school. Clutching your school books to your chest as you were shoved into walls and lockers. A ghost among the popular chicks and dicks. But never to him. 

  He himself was an outcast and truth be told he didn’t remember the time he hawked a lougie into Jason’s milk carton and stubbed a cigarette into his hamburger after Jason had purposefully knocked your lunch tray out of your hands. The cheap plastic tray hitting the tiled floor with a clank. 

  He might remember but you remembered the way his smile pearled big and pretty, his long lashes dusting the tops of his cheeks as he winked your way, and the way your panties clung with wetness at your heated lips. 

  His whiskey dark eyes bore into your head as he says your name slow, like reciting a prayer. His long legs swing as he struts cockily towards you. Middle of the summer and he’d shed his leather armor. Red flannel open revealing a tanned tattooed chest. Sleeves cut off showcasing muscly trailer park strong arms.  Jeans hacked off above the knee. 

  His smirk danced across his lips, tongue poking out to wet his lips. He had trouble written all over him. And damn did he wear it well.

  “Don’t tell me you’re here to confess the sins committed against our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?” 

  Your legs cross and thighs rub together. A pulse awakening between your legs. 

  “Amen,” you giggle nervously, hiding behind heated cheeks. 

  Leaning his long frame against the edge of the pew, he throws a worn heavy boot over onto the seat, next to your clenched thighs under the white sundress. 

  He leans down, over his knee, his long curls dancing with his gesturing head, he’s leaning close and you can see the reds fading his eyes and the skunked smell of weed. Still that smile has you melting. 

  “So what are you in for? Forget to genuflect before sitting down last Sunday?” 

  His joke earns a smile from you and seeing your lips pull your cheeks up has him twitching in his jeans. 

  “No,” you roll your eyes in a girlish way, batting your lashes, “it’s not that.” 

  “Ah!” Eddie says jumping up, “no bother, I don’t think Father Hopper isn’t gonna show anyway.” 

  You don’t mean to frown and Eddie almost laughs out loud at your pout. 

  Strict as your parents were, they were demanding that you needed to confess for your sins. They were already pissed you skipped out on college, might as well take 10 years off school, you’ll never go, they hated your job, hated even more that you didn’t really have friends outside of the “weird Buckley girl.” 

  By the end of this month you’d have enough money saved up to move out, and oh how you couldn’t wait. 

  The dirty word slips before you catch it. Hands covering your mouth quickly, the heat on your cheeks burning deeper. You peer at Eddie with big eyes.  

  He cracks a slow smile and leans forward. Licking his chapped lips again. He’s so close to you you can see every eyelash in high definition. 

  “That’s another sin, one more and the floor will open and we’ll both be engulfed into the fiery pits of hell.” 

  “Actually I think it’s purgat—” 

  A ringed finger is placed vertically to your lips, shushing you from finishing. The satin feel of your lips on his rugged finger makes him ache against the teeth of his zipper. 

  Tracing your face with his eyes they dip down the slope of your nose and past the curve of your lips, the delicate pink rosary is hung on your neck with such daintiness it’s almost in open invitation. 

  He about chokes when the goosebumps rise on your throat from his stare, a bead of sweat trickling in between your tits. 

  Dark eyes swim into yours, and his smile is impish, full of wicked delight, “Let’s go.” 

  His hand snakes down your shoulder and he grabs your wrist in a light but thick grip. Beckoning you with a sinful smirk. 

  “To where?” You manage after peeling your tongue from the roof of your mouth.

  “Time to confess for that dirty mouth.” Eddie says matter of fact, turning his head and dragging you to the confessional booth. “C’mon I’ll act as Father.” 

  Eddie pulls you into the small wooden door in the back of the church opening it for you in a gentlemanly manner ending in a bow. 

  He rushes you in with snapping fingers and a growl making you squeal. 

  Sitting behind the screen where Hopper usually sat Eddie beckons you to sit in his usual assigned seat. 

  He makes a backwards sign of the cross with his left hand and folds his fingers, clearly his throat and using a deep baritone voice, “tell me your sins, sweet girl.” 

  When you giggle, Eddie flicks the screen, “this is serious shit— confess to me.” 

  You begin the way your parents had you rehearse at home. 

  “Bless me Father— wait, should I call you that?”

  “Daddy works best,” Eddie says without missing a beat. And your pussy clenches around nothing. 

  “Bless me,” you hesitate on the word, but Eddie raises his eyebrows to encourage you so you start again, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. 

  “B- Bless me, Daddy, for I have sinned, my last confession was 10 weeks ago.” 

  “That’s a long time ago,” he tsks, berating you, “have you not sinned in these last 10 weeks?” 

  Fingers threading the hem of your dress you answer, “I- I have.” 

  Eddie palms himself at your innocence. “Well?” 

  “I— Eddie—” 

  “Excuse me? My title in this confessional is Daddy please do not make me correct you again,”

  “Sorry, Daddy.” 

  “Good girl,” Eddie purrs. Sending shocks to your clit. “Continue.” 

  Clearing your throat you stroke the beads of the rosary hung against your neck. Counting ten, a small skip, another bead, then ten more. 

  “I was.. experimenting.” 

  “Drugs?” Eddie asks, chuckling in genuine shock, he didn’t think a girl like you would smoke, “yes the devils lettuce is tempting.” 

  He flicks his lighter open and lights another joint he had tucked in his pocket for the ride home. 

  “But we must stop these temptations before they start, plus who are you buying from because I need to know if I have competition.” 

  You move your head to the side and continue thumbing the pink pearly beads in your fingers. The clack of your nails against the beads fill the quiet smoke hung room. 

  “No… it wasn’t drugs.” 

  Eddie’s mind flips like a magazine. 

  “Oh yes the alcohol, another temp—”

  “Wrong again.” 

  Eddie’s frustration peaks, “well I’m not a fucking mind reader so do you wanna explain yourself?” 

  “I— I was.. I was touching myself.” 

  “Oh fuckin, Christ..” it’s mumbled and breathy but you hear it all the same, sending a slick to your pussy from your admission and Eddie’s shock. 

  He’s rock hard. The zipper on his jeans scream, begging for any sort of release. He needs to know more. 

  “Do explain,” he says intrigued, leaning forward, his hands folded under his chin. 

  Adjusting yourself in the wooden chair you cross your legs, and Eddie barely witnesses the white cotton snug between your thighs, the sneak peek having him swallow hard. 

  Taking a breath you go into detail about the videotape you had gotten from the adult section of Family Video. How you had only watched it once and the volume was muted, but you couldn’t get it out of your mind. 

  The way the woman’s mouth curved into an “O” when the man was pleasuring her. The size of the man’s penis and the way it slapped against his stomach when released from his jeans. How the woman’s perked nipples were firm but looked soft against the man’s tongue.  

  Eddie’s drool is wiped from his mouth at your explicit confession, and he starts to palm himself over his jeans when you explain how you had started rubbing yourself over your underwear at night. 

  Thinking you were about to have your first ever orgasm but weren’t able to finish because your mother had walked in on you, legs spread wide on your comforter, toes curling. As you were using the barrel of a curling iron to rub at your clothed clit. 

  The embarrassment from repeating the story to Eddie made your cheeks heat, and you hid behind your hair. 

  The silence is speaking volumes. The only noise is the cream of the wooden seat as you shift again, a flutter in your stomach as Eddie thinks of his punishment for you. 

  “Sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, a hiss on his tongue as he moves from behind the screen, wedging himself between you and the wall, his long frame leaning against the mahogany. 

  Ringed fingers tapping along the plump of his lips, his hard cock outlined through his jeans, “You are a filthy, naughty girl.”

  You scoff, “I am not!” 

  “Oh baby, you are,” Eddie says, boxing you in, “but, I know just the thing to…cleanse you of your sins.” He licks his lips again and stares you down. And you're certain you're looking into Satan’s eyes. 

  “Wh—” you stutter, having to clear your throat, swallowing thickly and dabbing at the sweat on your neck, “what do you have in mind?” 

  Eddie’s wayward curls skim the top of your chest as his lips curve around the shell of your ear, he smells like cigarettes and laundry soap, “bad girls get spanked.” 

  Gasping, he laughs at your shocked face. “I don’t make the rules babe, ok I made that one up, but this is for you swearing in the house of the Lord, now,” he gestures a thumb over his shoulder, “get up, you’re gonna need to be on my lap.” 

  You do as you're told, standing chest to chest with Eddie. Only this time it’s you licking your lips. One stretch up on tipped toes and your lips could connect with his. The faint mark of a nicotine stain paints his bottom lip. You wonder if it would taste like it. 

  He grabs your hips and swivels you around, his rings dig into the soft cotton on your dress, his nails scratching the fabric as he takes his seat. The wooden chair groaning on the sudden weight. 

  Leaning back in the chair he smiles wickedly, legs spread wide, he rubs his lap, tapping for you to come closer. 

  When your body is laid flat against him, you pull at the hem of your skirt to keep your modesty. 

  “This punishment is just for the dirty words,” Eddie explains. His ringed fingers walk along your spine, trailing down your back and up the fat of your ass. 

  He lays a warm hand on your cheeks and rubs it gently. Squeezing every so often. 

  Eddie's cock is hard under your ribs and your pussy flutters at the size of him. He hums and jiggles your ass before explaining his rules for your indiscretion, “you are going to recite The Lord’s Prayer while I spank you. Understand?”  

  You nod dumbly and whimper when his left hand tickles up your thighs. 

  “Start.” He grunts. 

  You begin the Lord's Prayer just like you were taught, standing before joyful cheeked families in a similar white dress on your First Communion day. 

  “Our Father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed be th—”

  A large hand comes down hard with a thwap! on your ass cheek, sending you forward and hitting your head on the wall. 

  “Oh,” Eddie whispers, not hiding the smile in his voice, “if you mess up— we start over. So don’t. Unless this naughty girl enjoys being spanked by daddy? Hmm?” 

  You nod again and continue. Trying hard to remember where you were. Hallowed be…

  “.. Thy Name, Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done. On Eart—”

  Two hands smack your ass at once like sticks beating a drum. The hem of your skirt is lifted past the sheer white panties you are wearing. Reaching for the end of your dress to pull it down Eddie grabs your wrist, putting your hand back where it belongs he issued another spanking. 

  This time he lifts your dress fully and groans at the sight in front of him. Your plump ass has all but swallowed the see thru fabric of your panties. Eddie sucks a breath in through his teeth and places his left hand in the thick of your thighs, warmed by the heat of your arousal, his thumb rubbing small circles. 

  Thy Kingdom… shit. 

  “Thy Kingdom c—” the hardest slap yet has rained down on your nearly bare skin, and it springs tears from your eyes. 

  Eddie smooths over the red mark left on your skin and his tone is irate when he spits, “you already said that sweetheart, start again.” 

  His fingers snake further up your legs and he groans at the feel of your soaked panties on his fingertips. 

  You start again. And the spankings Eddie delivers are swift and merciless. The harder he spanks the more you cry out. 

  Sweat pools between your thighs where Eddie’s hot hand is wedged, his thumb teasing the outline of your panties and pressing soft circles into the fabric. 

  Tears cling to your eyelashes as your punishment comes to an end, welts forming where his rings stung and clipped you. 

  Words of reassurance fall from his lips after every slap and harsh whack of his hands. When Eddie leans over to catch a rogue tear from your cheek before it hits the carpet, your thighs slam together tight with a snap. 

  The groan he lets out is guttural and low. His cock twitches underneath you again. 

  “..and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil Am—- ow!” 

  Quick, hot tears sting your eyes. A jerk of your head reveals a sight you would never imagine seeing… let alone in a church. 

  Pearly, and oddly straight. The calcified and slightly sharp teeth pull out from the red, irritated skin on your ass.  

  “If you want to repent for your sins, you need to put your trust in me, can you do that baby… hmm? Can you listen and give yourself to me? It’s the only way you’ll be forgiven.”

  A perfect dental record sunken in deep, small droplets of blood weep from the pierced flesh from his canines. 

His lips are pulled back in a snarl, dark eyes gleam with a feral intensity so ferocious you’re instantly terrified. He looks like a wolf fighting for a meal. 

  Paralyzed with fear, your lungs spasm in shock as he flicks out his tongue, running the wet tip of the muscle along the pattern of his teeth grooved into your skin. 

  Each pass of his slicked tongue deepens the arousal in your lower stomach. His lips curve around the mark, kissing it better, his hooded eyes never leave yours. 

  You moan when the purpling bruise he’s sucking into your skin is greeted with the same poked teeth that bit you earlier. 

  His thick middle finger had your panties pulled to the side and your arousal is coated thick on his finger as he pushes past your puffy lips. A blunt fingernail sharp against your inner walls. 

  “Fuck,” he groans, dipping his finger into the impossibly tight well of your sweet pussy. 

  Eyes rolling into the back of your head, you mimic his moans and bite into your cheek. Hungry for the look of a broken gasp as your walls flutter and tighten around him. 

  World spinning and head rushing, Eddie has you upright and straddling his waist. when you start to question him he shushes you. 

  Taking the same finger he had plunged into your molten slicked pussy, he rubs the pad of it around your lips. Like a tube of chapstick during a cold winter, he coats them again and again, licking his own, his other hand is tight on your knee and gently skirting closer to your hip under your dress. 

  When he's satisfied with his art on your plump lips, he finally dives in, his breath hot on your skin and you part your mouth in a welcome for him. 

  But he only laughs. 

  A throaty chuckle that mocks you, as you wait for him to kiss you, wait for him to press his pinked lips to yours. Waiting for his tongue to devilishly lap at the corner of your mouth. 

  But all of his attention is zeroing down on the rosary around your neck. 

  Each bead is slick with sweat, warm to the touch against his thumb, as he counts them in his head, your throat gasping on each inhale. Whimpering and moving your hips against him.

  Grabbing the rosary in his fist he pulls you closer to him, biting the fleshy lobe around the small gold hoops in your ears, his dick aches when you whine his name. 

  Huffed whispers tickle your ear and send shivers down your spine and flood your panties, “Such a dirty fucking girl, practically begging for me to fuck you.” 

  Another whine from your mouth and he’s bucking his hips into you, strained denim against wet lace. 

  “Is that what you want?” Eddie demands. His snake-like tongue tickling behind your ear, “all you have to do, is ask.” 

  “Please,” you beg, fingers curling into the flannel of his shirt, head thrown back as he circles your neck and paints hickies with his tongue.

  “Not good enough, baby. Tell me how bad you want this little virgin hole filled.” 

  His hand finds it way under your skirt to the desperate slick of your panties, his fingers sliding around and making slow figure eights against your clit.

  Tits bouncing as you move against his hand, hopelessly with no words you beg him with your body to give you relief. You whine again embarrassed to ask for what you craved, the sin that brought you here to begin with.

  When you don’t say anything he retreats his hand. And you try to chase it as it slips away, you whimper pitifully again, and finally succumb to his demands. 

  All embarrassment gone as you beg him, plead for his cock, “Eddie, please.. please.. I’ve been so good,” you oughta be ashamed of yourself but you couldn’t care less— if he could make you feel this good by barely touching you, you’d be on your way to that glorified “O” in no time, and you can practically hear the Hallelujah chorus.  

  He chuckled cockily at your pleas, but shushes you as he unthreads his belt, and almost chokes when you gasp in awe at his thick veiny cock, slapping up to his belly with a thump and the pearling bead of cum seeping from the slit. 

  His thick ringed hand pumps himself as he lines himself up with your swollen pussy. And when you sink down he slams himself home and you clench around him, a scream escaping your slack mouth.

  He groans low,  trying to even out his breathing around your pretty gasps and breathy moans. 

  “You’re gonna keep my cock warm before I fuck you like the slut you wanna be for me,” he chides, concentrating hard on on anything other than the tight walls of your pussy gripping him. “This is the rest of your punishment… you pray a Hail Mary and warm my cock, no whining, no moaning.” 

  You whimper as his cock stretches you out, practically biting a hole in your bottom lip as you taste yourself from where he painted them with your own arousal earlier. 

  A loud slap to your ass and you’re jolting forward, your rosary tight in Eddie’s fist as he brings you down to his lips, “start praying or I’ll go home.”

  “Hail Mary,” you begin, the same way you started before, only this time the pressure was never lifted, your pussy full of him, and his tongue hot and feverish on your neck, teeth grazing your skin ever so lightly. 

  He’s teasing you and trying to get you to break, he thumbs over your nipples until they’re peaked and sore in his pinched grip. 

  When you get halfway through the sacred prayer, your pussy aches and drips down to his balls. His tongue is lazily working a red and purple ‘E’ into the fat of your tit, one hand still holding the rosary tight against your neck. 

  You’re on the verge of breaking when you suck him in deeper, pushing your walls around him and kegeling him in a death trap. He mins and curses the lord’s name, and he finally snaps. 

  Bangs slicked with sweat and stuck heavy against forehead, he grunts, “Holy Mary Mother of God.” And you’re hiked upwards. 

  The screen you confessed your sins to with Eddie on the other side only a half hour ago, is now pressed tight against your ass as Eddie hammers his cock into your slicked and aching pussy. 

  The moan you elicit is toe curling, borderlining pornographic as the thick head of his clock slams into a spot you were unaware of reaching again and again. 

  “Pray for us sinners… fuck this pussy is so tight… now and at the hour of our death,” Eddie whimpers into your shoulder before biting down hard. 

  And when you yell out an amen your fluttering gummy walls spasm with joyful relief. Coating you and Eddie both with hot arousal as it seeps from you. 

  And the lips you’ve been staring at all night finally touch yours. 

  A bruisingly, sore puncture of lust filled kisses that would have your lips resembling a baboon’s ass for days. 

  He’s babbling now as your feet are wrapped right around his waist, his hands wiggling into his curls and yanking harder sends him over the edge. 

  He drops you onto your knees and opens your mouth with a press of his thumb on your bottom lip, when your tongue is out, and waiting for his cum, he jerks his cock once more and shudders when the hot ropes leave him and drip on your tongue and lips. 

  “Body of Christ,” Eddie says with a smirk, shutting your mouth for you and watching you swallow his load. He expects you to gag, possibly spit it out at him like the other girls would. 

  But when you lick your lips and utter a seductive, “Amen.” Eddie knows he’d never get out of confession for the rest of his life. 

😅hmmm yeah ily there will be a part 2

[starstruck-cupid]

Secret Lover

Jason DiLaurentis x fem!Reader

A/n: I'm sorry this took so long. I lost the motivation to write and the last few months have not been great for me this will be a two or 3 part series and might not end happily, but we'll see

“Ali can't find out about this. You can't tell any of them.”

Jason had sweet moments, but those words felt like a punch in the gut. He was right, of course. He usually was. At least he was when he was sober, which wasn't often.

The fling we had that summer, the same summer Alison disappeared, was short and sweet. It was what he needed it to be. He wanted something easy with someone malleable. I was like a stray dog. I was alone, and willing to follow whoever gave me any attention. Ali knew that the second she saw me, so it's no surprise Jason did too. The whole DiLaurentis family had a knack for sensing things like that.

Jason ended it when he found someone more fit for the image he was trying to portray. It was easy for him. He never had trouble with girls. It was never easy for me, though. Especially after him. No one could ever be him.

Rosewood after Ali disappeared was hell. Nothing ever happened in Rosewood. People were afraid for a while. They thought their daughters were next. As time passed, the feelings of fear dissipated. Alison was forgotten. She became a statistic. Just another missing girl from a small town.

Jason and his parents left soon after, it was weird seeing the house next door so empty. Then Aria left. She stopped messaging a few months after she left. No one blamed her. It was just Hannah, Emily, Spencer, and the ghost of Alison’s memory. It was different, though. We all drifted and became different types of people with different types of friends. Small conversations became passing a “hello”, which turned to nothing.

/////////////////////////////<3//////////////////////////////////

Tomorrow marks a year since Ali disappeared. All of these thoughts and memories had been running through my head. I desperately wanted someone who understood to be around. Imagine my surprise seeing Aria walk out of the bathroom with a man way too old for her a few minutes into my shift.

“Aria?” shocked, I stopped in my tracks. The look on her face screams of surprise and embarrassment. The two of them share the same look of embarrassment. I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity.

“Come find me when you’re done here,” I say in a playful tone, shaking my head.

A few minutes later is hear the clicking of heels against the floor. Setting down the paperwork in my hands, I look up and see Aria in front of me. It feels like forever that we're sitting there analyzing each other. She looks different. No more pink streak. I remember helping her dye it in my already dye-stained bathroom with some leftover pink I had. I think it was the only time we weren’t silently fighting to be Alison’s best friend.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything,” she said, finally breaking the silence.

“Honestly, I get it. I probably wouldn’t have either. How long have you been back?” I pushed a chair across the table out with my foot and finished the little bit of the accounting paperwork I was doing.

//////////////////////////////<3///////////////////////////////////

We talk for what feels like hours. She talked about Iceland, the man in the bathroom, and everything going on with her family. I talked about Rosewood, my job, the rest of the group, and oddly, Jason. Aria had messaged him a few months ago and he seemed better. I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t jealous. I could have tried, though. After Aria said her goodbyes, I wrote, deleted, and rewrote so many messages to Jason. I wanted him to know I was thinking of him. I didn’t even know if he would want that.

I gave up after half an hour. I packed up my stuff, said goodbye to my uncle and whoever else was left, and walked out. It was 11 pm, and cold. After putting my headphones in, I start walking. I felt a presence during my walk. I felt eyes on me, watching me like I was prey. I felt like my every move was being analyzed. I jumped when I felt my phone buzz. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I see a text from an unknown number.

‘Missing your lover? Sucks for you Bitch - xo A’

What the fuck?

/////////////////////////////<3//////////////////////////////////

I didn’t sleep last night. Anxiety kept me up. Anxiety about the text and the first day of school. Walking into my English class, I was surprised to see Aria, Emily, Hannah, and Spencer. All of us were in one room for the first time in almost a year. Walking towards Aria and Emily, I take the seat in front of Aria.

“Interesting class lineup,” I jokingly say, turning towards the girls. The bell rings and I turn halfway towards the front of the room. An oddly familiar figure stands in front of the board. As he turns I recognize the man from last night. That’s the guy Aria fucked. I turn my head back to her, wide-eyed, and am met with a similar face. Her eyes get wider as her phone goes off.

////////////////////////////<3/////////////////////////////////

The rest of the day is less eventful. No weird texts, no odd interactions. It was nice to spend the day with Aria and Emily. Work was paperwork, putting in orders, and planning community events the bar was involved in.

Walking towards my house, I see flashing red and blue lights. Speeding up I see ambulances and cop cars in front of Alison’s old house. Walking up to the group of people I spot Spencer away from the group. I stand beside her, Aria appearing next to me soon after.

“I heard the cops took Hannah to the police station today,” Aria said, breaking the silence.

“Wait, you don’t think she’d ever talk about-” Spencer began to ask.

“The Jenna thing?” Hannah interrupted, “ We made a promise”

[sijssjsbssjsnsnnskbskwns]

Hell Of A Summer (2025) (April 18, 2025)

Or Bobby (Billy Bryk) is an option as well if you want…I’ll probably end up doing all choices or not…we’ll just see…(I’m basically gonna give you ideas for X readers for Hell of a Summer 2025)

[allmoshnobrain]

Hello

So i was thinking of 16 and 3 with 80s jason

this was such a fun request to write and i'm honestly in love with jason on this. hope you enjoy reading it, love <3

from this prompt list │requests are open! send yours here

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

jason newsted x reader │ word count: 3,1k

"I'm gonna kiss you. Cool?" he asked, and you blushed, giving a shy nod. "Man, didn't the guys you've been with ever kiss you?" "Not that much," you confessed, and he let out a chuckle. "You need to pick your partners better." "Quit giving me a lecture and just do it," you retorted, and he laughed before leaning in to press his lips softly against yours. 

✦ warnings and tags: NSFW!!!, jason newsted x female!reader, +18, language, mxf sex, protected sex (yay), oral sex, friends with benefits, pre-metallica jason (early 80s), reader is inexperienced but not a virgin

The soft hum of the ceiling fan filled your bedroom as it valiantly battled the stifling summer heat with a gentle breeze. You sighed, tearing your eyes away from the open magazine and glancing over at your best friend sprawled out on your rug, absorbed in your Atari video game.

You and Jason had been buddies since high school. You actually met him through your brother - they were in a band together for a bit before your brother bailed to help out your dad with the family business. But even after that, Jason just became a regular fixture around your place.

It was pretty common for the two of you to hang out in your room all day, reading comics, watching movies, or playing games together. Jason was a solid friend - he was chill, funny, and always looked out for you. It felt like he was practically part of the family by now. Your parents and your brother loved having him around, and you couldn't deny you felt the same way.

"What's with the sigh?" Jason asked, and you blinked, glancing down at him to see he'd paused his game, resting his arms on your mattress as he peered up at you, a mop of brown curls framing his face.

"What sigh?" you frowned, and he rolled his eyes.

"You just sighed. The upset kind of sigh," he explained, and you raised an eyebrow. Yeah, maybe after years of hanging out, Jason could read you like a book. It wasn't exactly news, but it still caught you off guard sometimes, how effortlessly tuned in he could be.

"It's nothing," you replied, and he raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. You blushed, shifting your gaze back to your magazine.

"Come on," he nudged your arm, and you huffed, glancing back at him. "I can tell when you're upset. What's up?"

"I'm not upset," you retorted. "Just... Ugh, fine. You remember that guy Flint?"

"That jerk Flint Jones?" Jason snorted, and you chuckled.

"Yeah, well, we went on a date yesterday."

"Damn, sweetheart," he laughed. "No wonder you're feeling some kinda way."

"Oh, shut up," you playfully nudged his head with your foot, and he snorted, grabbing your ankle and moving your foot away from his head. "He's hot, okay? But it's all surface. We went back to his van afterwards and... Well, it was terrible."

"Did he hurt you or anything? You want me to kick his ass?" he asked, suddenly serious, and you laughed.

"Unless you think he deserves a beatdown for having the smallest dick ever," you replied, and Jason snorted, blushing. "Nah, it's all good. It's just the same old story, you know? He just wanted a quick fuck, but he was all about himself. So I bounced," you paused, frowning. "...And then he had the nerve to call me today just to say I’m a bitch."

"Wait till your brother finds out about this," Jason whispered, menacingly. 

"Oh, hell no, you're not telling him. I don't need my brother getting all up in my business. As far as he's concerned, I'm still as innocent as they come," you chuckled, then grimaced. "I mean, it's not that far off. I've only been with three guys, but every time it's like, why did I even bother?"

"It was that terrible, huh?" he asked, gently, propping his chin in his hand, and you nodded.

"Sorry. Too much information?" you grinned, a bit shyly, and he returned the smile.

"Not at all. You know you can tell me anything. Even about your awful sex li... Ow!" he laughed as you swiftly left your sitting position to kneel down, giving his head a playful shove before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Shut up, Newsted. Just 'cause you're getting lucky doesn't mean you can rag on my sex life."

"Who said I'm getting lucky?" he chuckled, blushing a bit, and you rolled your eyes.

"Are you serious? I don't know what you did to her, but my friend Carol won't shut up about how amazing your night was. Like I wanted to hear all the details!" you exclaimed. Jason laughed.

“I could show you what I did to her,” he blurted out. You froze, raising your eyebrows at him. "Uh, I mean... You said you've never had a good fuck, so I thought maybe I could..." Jason trailed off, his words stumbling out awkwardly. "I just thought... Maybe if you had a decent one... Okay, forget it, I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's cool," you replied hastily. Sure, you hadn't exactly fantasized about getting down with Jason, but you couldn't deny he had his charms, muscular arms and toned body matching the most beautiful wavy hair, blue eyes and a warm smile. Plus, you were sick of your own lackluster experiences and the hassle of trying to score in this town. There was just one hitch: you didn't want things to get weird between you two. Your friendship was cool, the coolest kind there was — you could count on Jason for everything, and he could count on you as well. You didn’t want this to change. “It’s just… Won’t that make things awkward?”

“It doesn’t have to. We’re friends, right?” Jason answered, shifting to sit beside you on the bed with a soft grunt. "I mean, if you're gonna dive into this, might as well do it with someone you trust. Better than messing around with Flint Jones," he joked, and you laughed along.

"You're such a dummy," you teased, feeling your cheeks warm as he inched closer, his hand finding its way to your cheek. “What the hell are you doing, Newsted?”

"I'm gonna kiss you. Cool?" he asked, and you blushed, giving a shy nod. "Man, didn't the guys you've been with ever kiss you?"

"Not that much," you confessed, and he let out a chuckle.

"You need to pick your partners better."

"Quit giving me a lecture and just do it," you retorted, and he laughed before leaning in to press his lips softly against yours. 

The kiss started gentle, a bit awkward at first, but you soon started to ease into it, feeling Jason's lips soft against yours. His scent, so familiar, surrounded you as he pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist. You found yourself leaning in, one hand resting on his thigh, letting out a little sigh as he nibbled on your lower lip.

“It's sweltering in here," you muttered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, saying it more as an excuse to take a small breather. Jason chuckled softly.

"I got you," he grinned, pulling your shirt off. You blushed, heart racing as his eyes roamed over your body, then meeting yours. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you replied, biting your lip. "Yeah, keep going."

He grunted, nudging you to lie back as he settled on top of you. You trailed your fingers along his stomach, tugging at his shirt to get it off. Your cheeks flushed as he leaned in, planting soft kisses along your jawline, working his way up to your ear, sending delightful shivers down your spine.

“Gonna teach you what a good fuck feels like,” he murmured, his voice gravelly as he pressed himself against you, his hardness meeting that warm spot between your legs. You sucked in a sharp breath, gripping his hair. "Feels good?" he asked softly, lips trailing along your neck before returning to yours, his body pressing against yours. You nodded, meeting his gaze, cheeks heating up; Jason had never looked at you like this before, his eyes full of desire as he watched the way you opened your mouth slightly, small sighs of pleasure escaping your lips as you felt the pressure of his hard cock against you. 

"Jase..." you whispered, reaching for his pants zipper, but he groaned, swiftly grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head. You let out a little whimper of protest, but he chuckled softly.

"Take it easy," he smiled. "Got a few tricks up my sleeve to show you first."

"Like what?" you breathed, and he grinned before letting go of your wrists, sliding his hands down to your back to unhook your bra. You couldn't help but sigh, feeling your cheeks heat up as he traced circles around one of your nipples with his finger, teasing it until it stiffened. He gave it a gentle pinch, and you couldn't hold back a soft moan.

"Has anyone ever touched your boobs like this?" he murmured, planting a soft kiss on one of them, and you shook your head no. He licked his fingertips to give them a little lubrication before teasing your nipple again, giving it gentle pinches and pulls. With a grunt, he took the other into his mouth, and you couldn't help but moan as he sucked on it, his tongue swirling around your nipple while he massaged the other with his hand. "Gonna make sure you know how amazing it can feel, babe."

"Oh," you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair as you instinctively moved your hips upwards, feeling a rush of pleasure and excitement. He pulled back briefly before latching onto your other nipple, teasing and squeezing the one he had just left wet and sensitive. Your eyes fluttered shut, breath coming in uneven bursts as you pulled him in closer. He continued to suck on your breast gently, leaving a little love mark as he unbuttoned your pants.

Your whole body tingled as he stripped off your pants and panties in one swift move. This was a whole different new experience for you; sure, Jason had caught glimpses of you in a bikini before, but being fully exposed like this was a first. Your cheeks flushed hot as he took in your naked form with a low hum, reaching out to grab your waist.

"You're so damn hot," he whispered, his own cheeks tinted with a flush. You sighed contently as he parted your thighs, his fingers exploring the warmth between them. A sharp moan escaped your lips as he teased your sensitive area, circling your wet entrance with his fingertips. "You're soaking wet, babe," he grunted, and you couldn't help but moan in response. He looked up at you. "You sure about this?"

"Yeah," you whispered, closing your eyes with a moan as he slid two fingers inside you, curling them gently. "Oh, Jase..."

"So damn warm and wet," he muttered, looking captivated by your reaction as he positioned himself between your legs, his warm breath against your clit. “I really wanna eat you out… Can I?”

"Yes, please," you whimpered, hips instinctively moving with his fingers as he curled them inside you once more. He chuckled, placing a gentle kiss on your inner thigh before diving down to your clit. A sharp moan escaped your lips as you felt the warmth and wetness of his tongue against your sensitive bud. "Jason..."

"Hmm?" he grinned up at you, his fingers working magic inside you. "You're squeezing around my fingers, babe... Feels good?"

"Feels amazing," you agreed, cheeks flushing. He went back to your clit, licking it in slow circles, and you couldn't help but moan, gripping his hair. A small gasp escaped you when he sucked on it, hips moving with his rhythm as you pulled him closer. He held onto your thigh, keeping you in place as he continued with increasing intensity, sending waves of pleasure through your whole body. "Jason," you gasped, eyes shutting tight as he kept his fingers moving inside you, pleasure building with every stroke. He pulled back momentarily, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs.

"It's alright, babe," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "I've got you. Just let it out..."

You whimpered, tugging at his arm until he was back on top of you. He kissed you deeply, his tongue moving with yours as he slid his fingers away, focusing on massaging your clit in slow circles. You melted in his kiss, pressing yourself against him as you felt your climax building, each wave crashing over you until you were moaning louder and louder, your whole body trembling under his touch.

"That's it, baby," Jason murmured, sliding his fingers back inside you and hitting that spot that made you cry out in ecstasy, your walls clenching around him. "Just let it all out... I've got you, honey."

"Jase, please..." you sobbed, burying your face in his neck as you attempted to push his hand away. "It's too intense, I can't..."

“It’s okay,” he whispered, planting soft kisses on your hair while easing his hand's movements. You let out a shaky sigh, still tingling from the pleasure as you came down from your high. He chuckled, brushing your hair back from your face, his body warm and sweaty against yours. "You enjoyed that?"

"Hell yeah," you replied weakly, and he laughed.

"You wanna keep going?" he asked, and you nodded.

"Just need a sec to catch my breath, please," you whispered, and he chuckled before getting up. You watched as he peeled off his pants and underwear, blushing when you caught sight of his arousal. He grabbed his wallet from your nightstand, pulling out a condom before taking hold of his cock with his free hand.

"Wanna learn how to put this on?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes.

"I'm not that clueless, Jason. I know how to do it," you replied, sitting on the bed.

"Well, you wanna lend a hand, then?" he asked, and you nodded, cheeks flushing. You took the condom from him, tearing open the package. There was a moment of hesitation before you took hold of him, running your thumb over the tip and spreading the pre-cum over his swollen head. He let out a grunt.

“Want me to suck you off first?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you moved your hand slowly. He let out a soft moan.

"I'd love it, but let's save it for another time," he replied, his voice husky. You blushed, the thought of a next time sending butterflies through your stomach. "Today's all about you, alright? Just wanna make you feel good."

"Well, you're killing it so far," you grinned, and he chuckled. You slid the condom on him, then leaned back on the bed, spreading your legs. Jason looked at you, stroking himself slowly with a sigh before getting back on top of you.

"There's still so much I wanna teach you," he whispered in your ear, and you let out a soft moan. "Loads of ways to make you lose it for me... You have no idea how sweet you taste."

"No one's ever talked to me like that before," you whispered, heart racing as you blushed. He grunted, planting soft kisses on your neck.

"Their loss," he replied before easing himself into you with a slow, steady movement. You let out a loud moan, clinging to him as you opened your legs wider to take him in deeper. He kissed your jaw, fully inside you now, your bodies hot and sweaty against each other. "You good?"

"I'm good," you whispered, and he let out a soft grunt before starting to move slowly. You buried your face in his neck, moaning as you felt him stretching you out, hitting all those sweet spots inside you. It was intoxicating, the mix of gentle ache and intense pleasure, far beyond anything you'd felt with anyone else. Your pussy throbbed, extra sensitive after your last orgasm, and Jason moaned your name, pulling you closer.

You curled your toes, lips seeking his out eagerly, knowing you wouldn't hold out much longer, the tension in your belly rising fast. Jason kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he tangled his hand in your hair, your lips moving together in a frenzy of soft moans and gentle bites. You were completely lost in him, in the sensation of him thrusting into you, picking up speed as you gave in to the pleasure of each other's touch.

"Jase... I'm gonna cum again," you moaned, and Jason grunted, his thrusts getting harder as he used one hand to play with your clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts with quick motions.

You let out a sharp moan, feeling his hot, ragged breath against your skin as he showered you with soft kisses, driving your hips forward to deepen the connection. It was too much; your climax finally crashed over you, tears of pleasure rolling down your cheek as you held onto him tightly, your body clenching around him. Jason groaned, his movements becoming wilder as he was carried over the edge by the intensity of your release. He buried his face in your neck, fingers gripping your hair as his body trembled, delivering a few final thrusts before collapsing on top of you with a shaky sigh.

You closed your eyes, giggling as he peppered your jaw and then your lips with kisses. He slipped out of you, and you scooted over to make room for him to sit beside you. You watched as he disposed of the condom and headed to your bathroom. He was back in no time, his naked form gleaming with sweat, face flushed as he ran his hand through his hair.

"What's got you smiling?" he asked, a small grin playing on his lips. He settled down on the bed, running his hand over your thigh.

"That was amazing, Jase," you said, and he chuckled, leaning in to give you a gentle kiss.

"You feeling weird now or are we cool?" he asked, a touch of concern in his voice. You smiled softly.

"We're good. We could be friends with benefits, right? I hear some folks actually pull that off."

"Yeah," he smiled at you, twirling a strand of your hair on his fingers. "So, does that mean we're gonna do this again sometime?"

"You were the one talking about all the lessons you had in store for me," you teased, and he chuckled softly.

"Okay. It's a deal, then," he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief, making you giggle. "But hey, we better get dressed before your brother or your folks come back home. Pretty sure they wouldn't be too thrilled to find out how we spent our afternoon."

You burst into laughter, sitting up on the bed and rummaging for your clothes. As you watched Jason get dressed, a grin spread across your face, thinking about how rough it would be to go back to those crappy dates after experiencing how amazing it felt to be with him.

You couldn't wait to see what else he had to teach you.

[poetatorturadaa]

Have my back, everyday, fels like home.

jason todd x fem!reader, light angst?, hopeful ending. soeees, I had this saved in notes for a long time, it doesn't have an exact beginning and nor an end, but I wanted to share it. English is not my first language, so let me know If I missed something, I hope you like it. <3

Jason looks at her and his eyes soften with something else, something like tenderness as he watches her take the strawberry from the bowl and chew on it. It's strange for him to think that she was ever interested in romance. It's not that he thinks romance doesn't suit her—he's seen her living with his siblings, she's a sweet, warm presence who can bring out the best in anyone. Hell, even Damian's. But she always plays the role of friend, of platonic confidant. No one seems to be able to see past her pretty face and realize how alone she feels.

Jason is not a poet, nor does his training as a vigilante offer many insights into romance. But he can see that there is something in her that craves attention, to feel loved. It's not Jason's place to fill that void, or at least, he's not supposed to. He then looks away and continues cleaning his motorcycle.

A weight floats in the air. Y/n doesn't recognize it, but the silence becomes too pronounced. It's almost as if even the cartoon on her phone knows there shouldn't be such an absence of words.

Jason's gaze moves back to Y/n's face, who remains focused on the screen. It's like it's easier to pretend that a cartoon is more interesting than whatever else is happening in the room. There's a strange electric hum in the air and her skin tingles when his gaze meets hers. There are so many different possible futures, each of them tugging at her heart in a thousand different ways.

He couldn't say anything, let the energy dissipate and pretend it never happened. He might give in and confess a secret that could turn everything upside down. He could engage in a monologue about the state of his soul.

Instead, he speaks plainly, as if none of these things were possible or even worth mentioning. "Do you want another strawberry?"

Y/n looks at Jason and feels a strange kind of kinship with the silence that hangs between them, even if he's doing her job, making the sound of metal scraping against stone. Still, she can't let herself get comfortable with the silence between her and Jason, and her thumb flicks across her phone to change the cartoon episode she'd just finished. "Yes, of course," she begins, looking at Jason, "So...what were you saying about Dick?"

"Dick seems to think you're keeping me balanced," he says quietly, taking a couple of seconds to extend the now half-full bowl of strawberries toward Y/n. There's a subtle change in her tone, a slight drop in sharpness. It's subtle, but is there anyway. "He thinks you... tame me or something." He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible laugh, though that's completely accurate to her relationship with Dick.

In Jason's eyes, Y/n could only be described as the sunsets that seem to be longer in summer, a cup of coffee with the perfect amount of sugar on a winter night, and the sweet, pungent aroma before the rain. She is able to bring a strange feeling of calm to anyone who crosses her path. And as a close friend of the Bat-family, she is one of the few entities capable of talking reason to them. Y/n has the unique gift of being able to keep all of their tempers in check.

She lets out a small giggle at Jason's words, amused by the way Dick perceives her, oblivious to the fact that Jason actually thinks of her the same way too. "He must know something to think that." She scoffs, her voice as reserved as ever as she turns off her phone and puts it in her back pocket, turning around and placing her chin on the back of the couch to now look at Jason as her hand goes to grab another strawberry from the bowl he's holding. He extended it to her.

"He has this idea that you... calm me down" Jason continues, looking at her now. His expression has softened. "He has told me more than once that as long as you are in the game, I will be fine. That you will keep me in line and make me less destructive."

He pauses, turning his gaze to the metal of the motorcycle, which is now in perfect condition to be used again. "It's actually a little insulting," he says, his voice thick with sarcasm. Y/n brings out the best in everyone, but it seems like no one believes she might be the one who needs to let her guard down.

Y/n discovers that she admires Jason more than she should. Maybe just a second longer, but Y/n is detail oriented. And that extra second was incredibly countable. The vigilante, and his gray-green eyes, tired and constantly expressive, in which she felt that if he looked for a second too long she would get lost again. Distracting hands. His expression was so different and complicated to put into words.

"I think we all need someone to take care of us." She responded softly, expressing between the lines her inner desire to have someone to take care of her too.

Jason's expression changes again. It is something so subtle that it cannot be pinpointed. But the weight is still there. And it's almost as if an entire novel has been written since his last words.

He looks up again and again his expression is hard to read. "I doubt anyone has ever taken care of you." His tone is soft, almost calm. It may seem like a shot to the heart, and maybe it is. But he says it sincerely, he knows that even though he and the rest of his siblings, even Bruce, or many other superheroes, are always there, she doesn't have a person to take care of her like she wants to be taken care of. And she deserves more than that.

[albatmobile]

I need another fic where jayroy x reader is in the league for… reasons 🫣

I also now need this 😫

the other fic (x)

a conundrum of redheaded proportions

next: [2] || ao3

𓅪 Rated: E | 4k includes: misunderstandings, confessions, selectively mute!reader, blow jobs, vaginal sex, deep throating, praise kink, spitroasting, begging, lots of smut y'all ur welcome, voyeurism, jealousy, Justice league AU

𓅪 previous hookup fem!reader x jason todd, eventual fem!reader x roy harper, eventual fem!reader x jason todd x roy harper

my Hero OC! Cardinal comes from this series: tumblr [1] [2] | ao3

It's a well-known fact amongst The League that you like redheads.

From your first fling with Wally, drunken kiss with Kori, to your summer romance with Kate and that one-time thing with Jason back when his locks were more fiery than his personality, you’ve always seemed to gravitate towards red. 

Hell, he’d even heard rumors that you’d been in a threesome with Babs and Artemis on your mission to Themyscira a summer or so ago. 

What Roy can’t figure out is why you’ve never even talked to him let alone looked at him.

Is he a defective redhead or something?

Just approach her, they said.

Just introduce yourself, they said.

Well, he’s fucking tried.

You aren’t one to talk in uniform and only the redheads in the league, excluding Roy, know what you look like underneath your infamous, skin-tight burgundy vinyl. 

And then, there you are.

Right in front of him.

Roy doesn’t realize his breath’s stopped until his head begins to feel faint and he’s forced to gulp in air desperately like Spongebob in that one episode.

And then you’re walking toward him.

Jason shifts beside him, but Roy’s more focused on you.

Your hips sway hypnotically with each purposeful step you take closer, pulling Roy deeper into your unforgiving trance.

Your hand makes a tiny wave, so tiny Roy’s sure if he blinked he’d miss it, right at him.

No fucking way.

Roy’s hand shoots up with a nervous wave back that stills as soon as you shoot him a questioning head tilt. He hears the leather of Jason’s jacket shift from behind him and looks just in time to see his friend finish waving at you.

Roy isn’t salty.

“There’s no way she’s hot under that shit,” he mutters lowly to his friend once you’ve passed by.

Roy’s salty.

“I fucked her,” Jason says the statement like it’s an actual response and not just a blatant brag.

“Yeah,” Roy huffs, focusing back on packing up his gym bag, “so?”

“So,” Jason quirks a knowing brow, “you dissing my taste in women?”

“No!” Roy cries out, then slumps back against the locker room bench with a groan. “Is there something wrong with me, Jay? Am I the ugly one?”

“What does your mug being a mess have to do with her?” 

Jason’s never had a quiet voice. His baritone growl always demanded attention whether he meant it to or not. Unfortunately for Roy, this time it seems to have attracted your attention because your usual confident gate stutters just slightly enough for Roy to take notice.

As soon as you’re out of sight, Roy smacks Jason in the arm, yelping slightly when he retaliates with full force. 

“Jesus, dude. You tryin’ to kill me, or something?” Roy groans.

“You tryin’ to offend me, or something?” Jason mocks him.

Roy finishes zipping up his bag with a dramatic zip and huff, “Course not. Sorry, Jaybird.”

Another quick hit to Roy’s already undoubtedly bruised arm.

“Not here,” Jason chastises him, his nose wrinkling easily at the offending nickname. 

Roy watches as he looks towards all the hidden cameras in the room, something they’d both mapped out within the first few days of being welcomed aboard the Watchtower.

“For sure,” Roy agrees distractedly as he catches a glimpse of Barry’s outfit and briefly mistakes it for you. “Sorry, I’m just out of it today.”

“So I see,” Jason says, raising an easy brow. 

“Nothing gets passed you now, eh?” Roy tries to joke but Jason only returns him with a knowing, read: asshole-ish, look like he’s already figured Roy out and, hell, he probably has. He catches a whiff of his uniform and winces, picking distastefully at the fabric on the chest of his sweaty Arsenal getup. “Fuck off, man,” he huffs. “Let’s just eat so we can get the fuck out of these monkey suits.” 

𓅪𓅪𓅪

The cafeteria is nearly empty at this hour, Roy notes with a pleased hum. He quickly becomes distracted, however, by the heavenly smells coming from the kitchen.

Algie and Rita are behind the counter again tonight, so Roy knows the food’s going to be fire. 

“Ladies,” Roy greets playfully with a waggle of his brows at the elderly women. As a result, they award him with an extra scoop of mashed potatoes. Score!

Jason greets them politely before following behind Roy to the closest table.

It’s always quiet around this hour, though it doesn’t mean heroes are necessarily holed up asleep in their rooms. Mission stragglers, graveyard shift Watchtower workers and heroes zeta-tubing in for their debriefs are constantly ongoing. In quiet moments like this, though, Roy really does feel like it’s just him and Jay in space.

“So, you going to tell me what’s been bugging you tonight?” Jason asks though Roy thinks he already knows.

Roy glances around the empty cafeteria, save for a single table taken in the way back, before leaning in to whisper anyway. “It’s that chick.”

Jason shoots the redhead an unimpressed look. “Chick, seriously?” he admonishes Roy.

Roy sighs, pushing around the mashed potatoes on his tray, “I’m not gonna say her name when you already know.”

Jason simply hums in response as he unlocks and removes his helmet to eat.

Roy has never been quiet when it comes to the people he’s interested in and, sure, that’s how it started off with you, but you’re different. 

No, literally, you don’t speak. 

Not that you can’t, per se, just selectively and never to Roy.

Except one time. Your first mission alone with him.

Roy was usually unable to understand your movements, signals and signs outside the costume (not that you were ever caught dead on the Watchtower out of costume). After all the years of battling side by side on missions, Roy knows your battlefield code like the back of his hand. Slight shift of your head to the right: back you up, shift to the left: back up, all the way down to your cute little hand movements that call out battle strategy. 

Quiet but mighty. Never one to mess with. 

Roy knows firsthand.

The one thing he’d never known until that one time, though? Your voice.

It was during the midst of a battle with Enchantress and Gorilla Grodd. You and Roy had been put in charge of reconnaissance for team Alpha when a henchman strayed way too close to the tree Roy was stationed behind. 

You’d clicked your comm button three times to alert Roy, but it was already too late. 

The guard startled and went for his radio, forcing Roy to draw an arrow. Though the hit itself was quiet, the thud of the man’s armored body was loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the general vicinity. 

Cutely enough, you turned to Roy, watching as he drew his bow and nodded to you as you got into a defensive position. 

He then proceeded to watch you take on tens of henchmen at a time, disarming their guns before they could even aim them. It was a shame that Roy’d been so preoccupied with your safety, no, namely distracted by how the shiny material of your suit stretched across your huge ass, to focus on protecting himself.

Up until that point, everything had been going smoothly. That is, until-

“ROY!”

You weren’t supposed to use names other than alias’ out of the field, but your slip-up had seemed so unintentional he didn’t need to see underneath the mask to know you were panicking. He could hear your regret in your loud silence for allowing your voice to slip through and leak into the chilly night air.

Your body crashed into his with such a ferocious force, that he had no choice but to shift out of the way. He hit the ground and you landed on top of him just in time for him to avoid the deadly ray of Enchantress’ incantation. 

You, however? Not so much. 

By jumping in front of Roy, you’d taken the brunt of the attack practically head-on.

The shock of hearing his name from you lasted mere milliseconds before you were on the ground, screaming bloody murder under the intense pain from the spell you’d just saved Roy from. He’d never thanked you for taking a proverbial bullet of kinds for him, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t at least tried. You’d been conveniently absent from the post-mission debrief and, after checking out the empty med bay, Roy hung around outside the women’s locker room long enough to get booted by a wary Supes. 

Eventually, Roy gave up trying to catch you and, thus, his ‘thank you’ went unsaid.

And now, here you are. Again.

Seeing you twice in one night, Roy feels like he’s hit the jackpot. 

Jason, being the asshole he is, waves you over as soon as his eyes catch yours.

Your thick thighs move languidly, shifting from side to side with each tantalizing sway of your perfect figure. You’re stunning.

Roy clears his throat, coming back down to the present moment just in time for Jason to… introduce the two of you to each other. Huh?

Jason and Roy are the only ones in the cafeteria, Algie and Rita having reverted back to stirring pots in the back kitchen. 

It’d be weird if they made you sit alone, right? 

Right? 

That has to be why Jason is doing all of this.

Your flashy red stops right in front of him before he has a chance to think further on the topic. At this point, you’re close enough that your enchanting perfume has slowly started to invade his senses. Your scent quickly takes complete hold over him, making you the only thing he can focus on.

At Roy’s silent staring, Jason clears his throat, “Roy, meet Cardinal. Cardinal, Roy.”

Even behind the security of his domino mask, Roy can practically see the mirth in the outlaw’s emerald eyes. 

Roy’s completely lost for words. 

Luckily, it doesn’t seem to be an issue with you very much being in the same boat. 

He watches your every minute movement diligently so as not to miss this crucial moment. His eyes openly flick over your curves while your attention is diverted toward the raven-haired man next to you. 

It’s been years since Roy’s been this close to you and he can’t help but greedily drink your hypnotizing presence down to the last drop like a fucking dog. If Elastic Man and Booster Gold hadn’t been occupying the only other table in the cafeteria, Roy would take you right here and now, Jason’s voyeur-ass be damned. 

Roy watches as you huff slightly and shoulder his best friend’s arm lightly. Jason laughs easily at the cute contact, leaving Roy to wish he knew you well enough to be in on the joke, too. Well, to be honest, he just wishes he knew you period.

Roy clears his throat, going along with unnecessary niceties by extending his hand out to you with a false confidence he definitely wasn’t feeling. “What’s up, babe?” he greets overly casual.

Your head continues to face him head-on. He’s pretty sure if he could see anything under the mask you’d be wearing a deadpan stare. The two of you have known of each other for years, working alongside each other the entire time- so, why are you being introduced to Roy and why is he acting like a douche?

He watches you turn to Jason and point at yourself, then your head, then Roy and Jason seems to understand immediately. 

“Yeah, well, I figured I’d just properly introduce you guys,” he says, running a sheepish hand through his grey streak. “I don’t know,” he trails off with a sexy laugh that has even Roy fawning over him.

Roy really doesn’t stand a chance with Jason here. 

Fuck.

Roy supposes you shoot him another deadpan glare because Jason, honest to god, giggles. 

Fuck.

How is Roy supposed to compete with Jay’s rugged attractiveness when Roy’s shorter with half the game?

What happened to the awkward Jason Roy’d met all those years prior?

No, seriously, Jason had always been an awkward fuck, but for some reason, it seemed to work for him. Roy, on the other hand, was spontaneous, loud, over-the-top and seemed to drive off every promising prospect in sight, namely you.

You give Roy a timid wave that has Jason raising a brow, but Roy just responds earnestly. “Big fan of your work, Cardinal,” Roy says, leaning in across the table to get closer to you before he can stop himself. “Even bigger fan of that suit, beautiful.”

The redhead watches as your arms subconsciously move to cover your stomach and instantly backs off when Jason pushes him back into his seat.

“You’ll have to excuse my friend,” Jason says. “He hasn’t gotten laid since he got sober.”

He hears your tiny “oh” whispered into the quiet of the cafeteria and nearly loses it.

He wants you.

He needs you. 

“It’s true. I’m pathetic,” is what he ends up choking out.

Your head tilts at him with your hand floating to where your mouth is hidden under your vinyl confines. You look Jason’s way again before Roy hears your melodic giggle. He swears the gates of heaven have opened. He can practically hear the harps now as he watches the little shakes in your shoulders move in time with the angelic noise.

Saint Peter, Roy pleads with whatever fuckers are out there, please call my fucking name. Preferably soon… No, preferably now while you’re still amused by his obnoxious, whore-like behavior.

“Would you want to sit?” Jason motions to the chair you’re standing behind which sits right between Jason and Roy. You glance down at your tray which has a grab-n-go sandwich on it from one of the fridges right next to the food counter then back up at Roy. “It’s cool if not. I know idiot over here can be a lot.”

“Hey, I resent that.”

“I’m sure you do, buddy,” Jason says, picking lightly at his chicken before finally taking a bite. 

Jason always said the food here was good, but Roy knows it’s nothing compared to Alfred’s cooking back home.

Your giggling cuts off their old-married couple banter just like that. In fact, your laughter draws the attention of both men at the table so instantaneously that neither has time to cover up their reactions to the unfamiliar sound they’ve been lucky enough to hear twice now tonight.

Jason’s fork freezes momentarily on the way to his mouth before he quickly moves as if it’d never happened. Roy, on the other hand, remains completely stupefied by your captivating, seemingly effortless charm.

He knows deep down that there’s no way you’ll actually stay, though it doesn’t stop him from fantasizing about you ripping off your mask for him to take in what’s been forbidden for all these years. Part of him still holds out hope that, because it’s just him and Jason, you’ll actually do it, that you’ll actually give in and stay. Maybe the ripping off the mask is a bit too extreme, Roy mentally berates himself. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll lift the mask up past your nose and, at the very least, maybe you’ll just stay.

He watches with bated breath as you glance down at the seat, only to have his stomach sink seconds later when you shake your head. You pick up your sandwich and motion with your head toward the exit. 

Your continued lack of verbal response further proves there’s no way you’d ever even think about lifting up your mask to eat with Roy here. 

He is defective. 

“No worries,” Roy says as he waves you off with a jerky, then overly casual nature. 

Holy fuck, why can’t he just act normal around you?

“We’re usually in here around this hour if you ever do want to meet up,” Jason adds helpfully. Roy’ll be sure to thank him later for it. That is, right after he finishes kicking his ass for putting him through this embarrassment. “It’s usually just us down here at this hour, anyway. It’d be nice to catch up.”

You nod eagerly at both of them, leaving Jason to laugh. 

Roy watches you rub anxiously at your forearm, only to spur into action when your tray nearly goes tumbling because of it. You catch the sandwich easily and Roy catches the tray before it can even get close to the ground, but that doesn’t stop you from bending down, too.

At the sight of the tray safe in his hand, you, still bent over, look up, causing your noses to bump. 

“I can take care of you,” Roy’s grave voice is nearly a whisper in the quiet of the large room. You gasp slightly and startle backward, causing Roy to backtrack in a slightly higher-pitched voice. “They tray, I mean,” he clears his throat until his voice reaches its normal timbre. “I can take care of the tray for you.”

You seem to be momentarily frozen, much to Roy’s surprise, though it doesn’t last for long. Soon, you’re nodding distractedly, backing away from their table all the while. 

With your wrapped sandwich in one hand, you use the other to give a hasty thumbs up.

Roy waves you off with a defeated smile, bidding you a cursory goodnight.

Then you’re turning on your heel, speeding for the exit at a pace even Wally wouldn’t be able to keep up with.

He fucked up.

Neither he nor Jason can pull their eyes off you as you saunter away. 

Roy bites down harder on his chapped, bottom lip with each stomp of your heels as it jiggles your infamous cheeks in the process. Damn, what Roy wouldn’t do to get his hands on as much of your ass as he could manage. He knows there’s no way your ass would fit in the palms of his hands, but damn, if the thought alone doesn’t leave him drooling.

He doesn’t even notice the tent forming in his lap until Jason shoots him an unimpressed stare. 

“You’ve got it bad, bro,” Jason mutters into his water glass. 

𓅪𓅪𓅪

Roy does have it bad.

So bad that he makes his best friend take care of the raging boner you’d left him with.

Jason wasn’t lying when he said Roy hadn’t been laid since he’d sobered up around two years ago, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t jacking it almost every night. He’s found that the showers between the hours of four and five am are a safe haven for him to quickly get off, but tonight he needs something more.

Tonight’s different.

Roy presses Jason against the tiled wall and fucks into his tight ass all while imagining your wet pussy and fucked-out face. Roy comes embarrassingly fast, something Jason doesn’t let slide. He puts Roy to work, forcing his dick down his throat with a rough hand gripping his fiery hair until he comes all over Roy’s freckled face with a grunt.

It’s good and fine and whatever… Jason’s extremely attractive- that’s not the issue. 

The issue is that he’s not you.

Jason takes one look at Roy’s constipated face and sighs, wiping gently at the remaining beads of come on the tip of his cock with Roy’s discarded boxers.

“Just talk to her,” he says before leaving Roy to drown under the stream of his post-nut misery.

𓅪𓅪𓅪

He’s rounding the corner to his dorm room in his towel when he runs right smack into you and you’re…

“Holy shit,” Roy can’t help the airy moan that escapes at the sight of you in a loosely tied silk robe- only a silk robe.

You’re breathtaking. 

Your billowing hair, gleaming eyes and, overall, sinful features leave Roy’s mouth hanging open. Speaking of mouths, your supple, pouty lips are screaming at Roy to slip his dick between them and choke you with his length until he sees tears in the corners of your sex-doll eyes. 

Even in the fluorescent lights of the Watchtower hallways, your skin softly glows, radiating deep down into Roy’s bones. 

He needs to get his hands on you. 

Your features all meld together perfectly in a way that makes sense and he wonders how he ever could’ve imagined you to look any other way.

You tilt your head at him but don’t make to pass. It’s like you’re captivated by his captivation and, if anything, it only serves to captivate Roy further. 

You seem somewhat startled, though it’s obvious you’re trying to hide it. Roy wishes he could control his reaction; he really does, but you don’t know what you’re doing to him. Your startled face steadily shifts, leaving Roy to wonder if maybe you do. Maybe you know exactly what kind of effect you’re having on him. 

The teasing glint in your eyes seems to point to the latter and it’s making Roy weak in his already wobbly knees.

The sight of your costumed-self in the past has been enough to render him speechless. Now you’re here, standing in front of Roy’s rabid form with your robe steadily slipping from your silky shoulder and further down your bicep. 

Needless to say, the one-on-one contact with you is dizzying. It’s as if he’s drowning in the thick syrup of your honey-sweet figure without you ever having uttered a word other than his name. 

A succubus of sorts, for sure.

You’re hypnotizing and Roy knows he’s yet to pick his jaw up off the floor but can’t bring himself to stop. 

A steady breeze tickles at his mid-drift and it’s then he realizes he’s also forgotten to pick up his fucking towel in the process.

While Roy’s been completely stupefied by your ethereal features, you’ve been staring at his half-mast cock with an unreadable look. Roy inwardly groans when he realizes that Jason would probably know what it meant but erases the thought as soon as it pops into his head.

Roy looks down at his freckled, pink-tipped dick, then back up at you, then back down again and back up.

“Jeez,” he spouts, scrambling to the floor to snatch up the Justice League embroidered towels they supplied in the locker rooms. “Sorry,” his voice is thick with want as he squeezes his words out from behind a lump in his throat you’ve conveniently caused. “Didn’t see you there,” he says once he’s popped back up and secured his towel. “You alright?”

Your eyes flick down to his now completely erect cock that’s covered once again by his towel, then back up to his light green eyes. He follows the motion self-consciously, eagerly awaiting your next move. 

You’re a wild card to him. He can truly say you’re one of the few people he’s unable to read and one of the only people that he never knows what you’re going to do next. 

You’re a captivating mystery, an enigma for Roy’s puzzle-loving brain to tirelessly work at. And here you are, revealing almost everything to him while still revealing absolutely nothing. 

You nod and he watches as a magnificent blush coats your cheeks, though not the ones he’s been carnally craving.

“Sorry,” Roy sputters again as you continue past him like nothing had even happened. Like Roy hadn’t been staring at you for two minutes straight. 

You shake your head easily as if to say you don’t care, but Roy hopes you do. 

You continue past him with your usual confident stride, leaving Roy to wonder how you can possibly expect him to move at all with the trance you’ve put on him. His wobbly knees struggle to remain upright as your silent padding grows more and more distant.

Your scent lingers in the air around him like a cruel reminder of what could’ve been.

When he’s finally able, he turns around to watch your ass jiggle further and further down the hall with a heavy heart and even heavier blue balls. His heart nearly stops when you actually turn around to see if he’s still there, only to blush and duck your head back around on account of his blatant staring.

And so, the chase continues.

A/N: i’ve fully fallen in love w my characterization of roy and i’m absolutely WRECKED about it ok? i hope u feel the same and let me know if u do! ALSO ok I wrote this back in March (before I broke my pinky lol) but I did edit recently, but if it sounds a bit off from my current stuff that’s why :,P

Important: Cardinal is not usually mute, I take a lot of her hero design from Black Bat and thought it would be cool to include another aspect of Cassandra's character, hence this!

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