#someone will automatically assume she’s fem v

[merge-conflict]

Still surprisingly not over the Other category but the other part of marketing nonbinary pairings is like the lack of terms we have. I can’t exactly call Abernathy/Valentine toxic yuri because Valentine isn’t a woman, but she was when that ten year uneven relationship started! And to some degree she enjoys “playing” the loyal butch role, even if that isn’t quite the right descriptor to have for her. Anyway it’s such a pain not to have easily understood words or terms for yourself and idk why I’m experiencing it mostly through trying to tag my writing but here we are. If I was *smart* I could come up with some kickass terms myself but alas…

[seraphfighter]

I'm late but we ballin' gimme an 8 and. 11 pwease

Boop

Boop

From this

8. Greatest strength and greatest flaw about your OC?

I would say Val's greatest strength is her resilience. Girl has been through a lot and many people would've given up in her shoes. Not that she never wanted to. But she always somehow finds a way to keep going. On the other hand, she is cynical because of everything she's been through. She's automatically going to assume the worst about someone upon first impression because it's easier to push people away instead of opening up and risking getting herself hurt.

11. What actor or voice actor do you best see playing your OC?

This isn't an exciting answer, but I don't actually have one. Face and voice claims are never really something I've done for my OCs because they all look a very specific way in my mind. I do imagine Val's voice is close to default fem!V's voice though, just with a hint of a Hispanic accent.

[bvckysmanbun]

Six Miles High

 Jason Todd x Fem!Reader (smut)

I recommend you guys listen to song “Wrong” by MAX. I associate that song with Jason so much ever since I discovered it and it was the inspiration to…this fic. Comments highly appreciated!  

Tag(s) @dammianwayne, @theshortegg

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.7k

Once or twice, three times tops, Jason receives a text with a location each month. It’s always the same number that reaches out to him. Each time, he forwards the number to Roy so that they meet at the location.

The sound of a speeding motorcycle echoed down the highways of Gotham. A grin grew behind the visor as he saw a tunnel. His hands grips the handles, accelerating. If he didn’t have plans, he would’ve ridden without his helmet. He loved the feeling of the wind dancing through his hair, his hair locks joining as they curled and uncurled to follow the wind’s rhythm.

He’d see Roy waiting by the doors, a stupid grin would be on his face as Jason pulled into a spot in front of the club. He kicks the stand to lean the bike, leaning against it as he pulls off the helmet. Music booms from the club onto the streets, into the streets.

Jason runs his hand through his helmet hair, making it look wilder than usual. The white fluff in the front perfectly blended with the black. He puts the helmet in its spot, pushing himself carefully off the bike and unzips his black leather jacket. He reveals a tight white V-neck and gives Roy a cocky smile.

“You know, I don’t why you bring me with you every time, when you already have a girl for the night,” Roy laughs out, holding his fist out for Jason to bump back. Jason laughed with him, bumping his fist and nodding his head towards the door.

This wasn’t the first time he and Roy had come to this particular club. It was actually one of Jason’s favorite. Roy and Jason flash the bouncer a grin as they walked past the line, the complaints of the unfortunate crows stuck in the line fills their ears, but could not overcome the sound of the house music.

Making their way to the bar, Jason would point out girls he found to be Roy’s type. Roy would either say that he didn’t take girls who were too drunk (it’s not sex if there is no consent), keeping an eye on them just in case someone did try to take advantage; or that they didn’t really captured his attention. It was routine.

It was their way of…capitulating to the night, the social life outside of the Outlaws and their usual…work nights.

Roy never really looked for anyone, he just went for the hell of it. Moral support one could call it. Sure, he could try and get a girl for the night, but for the past…what was it now? Four months? Five months? However long it had been since Jason’s little game,  he found amusement in watching Jason go find the girl that had captured his attention.

As they near the bar, Jason’s eyes search the entire length of bar until they fell unto a familiar pair of legs. Roy laughs, leaning into Jason so that he could hear him over the music. “Go get ‘em!” he screams, going to the other end of the bar to grab himself a beer.

Jason makes his way to body that belonged to legs. Those legs, god those legs. His eyes traveled up the legs to take in the rump of the body. He sucked in his breath when he realized how short the dress was.

His face heats up when his body made its way to the figure, her body leaned against the tabletop; her left arm was folded in front of her, that way her left hand could rest on her right elbow, her hand swirling the glass of whiskey. Her head turned to the right, giving Jason a sideview of her face as she held the glass to her lips.

Hands hold themselves beside your figure, gripping the edge of the table so that his thumbs rested on the bottom and his fingers on top. You smiled, gulping down the rest of the drink.

“Just when I was beginning to assume you wouldn’t show,” you yell into his ear as his body pressed into yours from behind, his head next to yours. It didn’t hurt him. Not with all the music vibrating all around them, filling all the space that physical objects and bodies weren’t taking up.

“You think I’d bail?” he says loud enough for you to hear as his nose brushes against your ear, down to your jaw.

“No, but I was starting to get impatient,” you laugh, your face heating up as his lips trail up and down your neck. They were always hot and sloppy. He wasn’t even drunk. He never drank until he got home with you. In his opinion, just being around you made him drunk.

“Funny,” he says, kissing back up your neck and gently taking your earlobe in his teeth, tugging. You press your body into him, feeling the start of his erection against the back of your thigh.

“Tease,” you groan out, pushing yourself further against him, enough for his hands to break connect with the table. You slip out of his grasp, laughing as you make your way to the dance floor. Jason quickly follows, trying his best not to lose you in the string of people who were bumping, grinding, making out against him and each other.

He loses you for a few seconds, turning in 360 angles multiple times before he spots you, dancing against a couple of people. Your eyes connect with his, a beautiful yet devious smile makes its way onto your face as you let your hands roam over your body. He wanted you right then and there.

In a few strides, he’s in front of you. You press yourself close to him seductively. God, he didn’t know how much longer until he dragged you into a corner. His body sways with yours, his hands roaming over every inch of your body. You flip your body around so that your back is pressed into him, your hands guiding him to all the right places that needed to be explored. You let him know what you want; your hand on top of his as they make their way over your breasts. His head is close to yours, your head tilted upwards as you let your heavy breaths make their way to his ears.

It goes on like this. The two of you intimately dancing against each other; kisses making their way down your neck, your hands helping Jason’s roam to the parts of your body that needed him. 

Every other song you’d switch so that you were dancing away from him, or against him, only then it would be your hands roaming his body while his hands stayed on your hips. Your hands would dip into the hem of his shirt, lingering over his abs or the tips of your fingers dipping into the waist of jeans before he grabs your wrists and you laugh, throwing your head back.

The last time you turn around so that your back is pressed against him, he moves his thigh between your legs to spread them a little. You let out gasp, looking around. It was then you pull Jason by the arm towards the spot between the bar and the bathroom. Jason presses you against the wall, a silent moan escapes your lips as your back presses a little harshly against the vibrating paneling of the club’s interior.

One of his calloused hands makes its way to your thigh, sliding it to the back on your knee as he hikes it up to his hip, the hem of your dress riding up. Right hand snakes to his neck, pulling him in for a kiss as your left hand grabs the material of his shirt towards the bottom, pressing your bodies together so close, as they practically become one.

His lips hungrily take yours, Jason fighting back the urge to let his tongue lace over your bottom lip. He pulls away, knowing he would lose control soon. “Let’s go,” he growls seductively in your ear, pulling you away before words or noise could escape your mouth.

He hands you a helmet once you reach his motorcycle.

“Just because I love helmet hair on you, does not mean I like it on myself,” you purr, pulling the helmet on while keeping the visor up. Something about seeing that man with tangled and messy hair just riled something up in you. He chuckles lowly, pulling his respective helmet and getting on the bike.

“Let’s go. I’ve got a bottle of whiskey and a kitty waiting for me,” he says over the starting engine of the bike. A familiar warmth between your times welcomes his comment and you hop on, wrapping your arms around his torso; a soft squeeze gives him the okay.

As he pushes his speed, going around ninety-miles-per-hour, you loosen the grip just by a millimeter. The sirens of the GCPD sound off and laughter fills the arm as you both zoom towards the Jason’s apartment. They never caught you two. It gave you a high, made every night that you two spent together so much more thrilling and electrifying.

Your hands begin to roam over his torso, hands dipping into the front his jean’s waist.

“Y/n,” he warns, going a little faster, turning towards his street. He tries his best not to let your dirty flirting get to him.

The moment the motorcycle slides into its usual space, Jason pulls off his helmet then yours, picking you up. Your legs automatically wrapping around his waist, the hem of your dress rides up to the point it’s basically a belt around your hips. Jason’s hands are on your ass, holding you close to him as he makes his way up the couple of floors. You continue whispering in his ear, explaining in detail what you wanted from him. The heat from in-between your thighs grows, you could nearly smell your want for him.

One of Jason’s hands roam a little higher, trying to reach for your panties…you didn’t have any on and Jason gasps. He stops on the last step to his door; a sexy, devious look on his face.

“You dirty, dirty girl,” he growls, pushing his unlocked door open. Nobody was stupid enough to break into Jason Todd’s apartment.

“What are you going to do?” you moan out as he attacks your neck, pressing you against the wall. The same hand that discovered that you wore no panties was the same hand that smacks your ass. You let out a gasp, your head hitting the wall as you tilt it back, giving Jason more access.

“I’m going to show you how much I love playing with dirty girls,” he whispers in your ear, his teeth tugging on your earlobe once more. You groan out, grinding against him. Your heat was getting unbearable. Jason knew, too. “Aw, what’s wrong? Does your pussy want my attention?” he whispers along your jawline, one his hand reaches for the zipper of your dress. He rips it off.

“Fuck,” you gasp out, trying your best to get friction between your heat and him. He moves you from the wall, to his bedroom. Dumping you on the bed, he drops his leather jacket onto the floor and his shirt follows. He drops to his knees, spreading your legs for himself. God, he could smell the want. It got him hard whenever you were wet and wet only for him.

“Jason!” you cry out as his thumb runs up and down your slit. His thumb strokes you a few more times before he dips a finger in. Your body withers, trying to grind against his finger. He pulls his finger out, and his face slowly reaches in. “Jason, please!” He gingerly blows air onto your clit, your hands flying to the sheets and your back arches.

His mouth finally makes its way to your cunt, his tongue dividing your folds. You cry out, his tongue moves in little figures over your clit. At that moment, the only thing you knew how to say was “please;” you spoke it fast and in gasps. His tongue reaches your entrance slowly. He knew to watch for your body’s reactions. If your body wither, he’d go faster. If there was no progress, he began to experiment. Tonight, it was wither then go faster night.

“Jason! Please, please, please! Make me cum!” you scream, his tongue lapping you like his last fucking meal, his fingers joining in. Two fingers this time. The coil in your stomach tightened, your legs begin to tremble, pressing against Jason’s head. Your hands fly to his hair, pulling him up. His tongue retreated, but his mouth devoured your clit; he added a third finger. Your back was practically off the bed and you screamed out your praises to Jason, blinded by white spots  as he lapped up your release.

Jason kissed his way up to your breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it, sucking softly before carefully taking it between his teeth and tugging enough to stimulate something for you. He did the same for the other one, before finally capturing your lips.

“On your knees,” he growls, pullings away from your lips and pushing himself off, standing up straight up. You raise an eyebrow, eyes trailing down his body as his hands unbutton his jeans. A content hum vibrates throughout your body and into the air.

“Yes, daddy,” you lick your lips at him. His eyes darken as his pants drop.

“Hands and knees, now.” You turn yourself over, climbing onto your knees. You lean forward so your cheek presses to the mattress and your ass sticks up. A gasp forces it way out of your mouth as Jason’s thumb makes it way to your cunt, stroking between your folds again. You could feel the moisture building up again. “Stroke yourself, babygirl,” he demands.

The moment his thumb leaves you, your fingers replace it. You stroke yourself, moaning into the mattress. You quickly peek over your shoulder and see Jason stroke himself. You almost moan at the sight. Jason masturbating while watching you play with yourself.

“Jason, I’m not gonna last,” you moan loudly into the mattress, trembles shook your entire body.

“Keep going,” he demands. “But when you come, stop touching yourself.” The only sound was of your fingers vigorously rubbing yourself. He slaps your ass. “Am I understood?” He knew damn well it was about to happen, too.

“Yes!” you cry out, quickly pulling your fingers away from yourself. You cry louder when you feel the tip of Jason’s cock tease itself against your fold; it replaced your fingers. You try to press yourself onto only to cry aloud again when the feel of Jason’s cock goes missing. “Jason, stop teasing me!” you shout.

You gasp when his length made its slow plunge into you. “You’re so tight,” he groans in a sultry tone into the air. His hands go on your hips as your bodies make contact; your backside to his hips. He gives you a minute to adjust. Your hand makes it way to your clit, rubbing as he begins his slow rhythm. He pulls out until it was just the head of his cock before plunging himself back in. As he sped, so did your fingers. He grabs your hair, pulling you back so that your face was no longer in the mattress.  Jason’s name becomes a prayer you cry out to the god he swore did not exist. That made his cock twitch, driving himself deeper into you.

He quickly picks you up, never breaking his contact with you and presses you to the wall breasts first. His hands spread your legs further apart and he finally hits that one angle he knows will get you to come undone. You scream his name, trying to grip the wall as you push back against his cock, meeting him every time he slammed himself into you. His hand replaced yours, rubbing fiercely against your clit. Your body gives a tremble, your legs ready to give in, but Jason keeps holding you up as he rides out your high, soon releasing after you. He groans, tilting his head back, giving one final, rough thrust into you.

“Fuck,” he cries out, pulling out of you. He holds your limp form against him as you try to catch your breath. He throws his comforter over, slipping the both you underneath, bringing the comforter back over you. You lay on his chest, listening to thumping heart as it slowed down.

You look up to him, pecking him on the lips. 

“I love your text messages” he gives you a stupid smile. You smack his chest, kissing the same spot when he pouted. “That hurt.”

“I’ll make it up to you with breakfast,” you say with sultry smile. His eyes darkened again as he grins, capturing your lips. 

“Oh, so we’re staying the night?” he chuckles.

“How can’t I, knowing that,” your hand trails down to his cock, feeling it twitch in your hand, “this awaits me in the morning.” He grins, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. What the hell would he do without those text messages?