(AFAB Reader, More Subby, Comes Fast, Eager Jason At The People's Request )

(AFAB reader, more subby, comes fast, eager Jason at the people's request 🤲)

IF you praise Jason while he's inside of you, he will come first.

Jason thinks that this is a design flaw. You... disagree.

You discover it by accident the second time you have sex. The first time is negligible—Jason was nervous about being intimate with you and doing a good job, and he was a big ol' virgin, so obviously when you stroked his face and told him what a good, sweet boy he is, he blew his load. Obviously.

The next time has him seeking you out after patrol. He's freshly showered and maybe a little worn out, but he misses you. Moreover, Jason is prepared to fuck you. Show you that he can take charge and not rut on you like a dog. Jason's one of the most disciplined people ever. Certainly the most disciplined that you've known. You're telling him that you sink onto his cock and all of a sudden, that control swandives out the window? Impossible.

No, Jason knows better this time. He's going to be gentle, obviously, but he's focused on your pleasure. He finds you in bed already but not asleep because you can't sleep until he's home, not completely.

He prowls the bed, trying to hone his instincts. Having sex with you is just like any task he has assigned. Everything narrows to this moment. All of Jason's attention is on making you come first.

You greet him softly. This is where Jason is tricked. Jason forgets what a soft voice belies. You don't even realize you're doing it. You tell him you missed him and kiss him hotly, kiss down his neck, rake your hands through his hair. You tell him what a good man he is, keeping Gotham safe, protecting you and everyone in it, and Jason is hard.

Damn. Jason had meant to keep this on his terms. Get hard from your pleasure. But you catch him off guard like this, warm and soft and free with your praise. All you have to do is spread your arms and welcome Jason in and his fat cock is pushing against the waistband of his boxers.

He shudders as you scratch the nape of his neck, nip his ear. But then Jason clears his head, fights through the thick honey of your presence. No, he has a mission. He intends to complete it.

Jason throws himself into your body instead. He knows his size is all-encompassing. You're swallowed up in his arms, caged in between his shoulders. Yes, good. Jason wants you to feel overwhelmed in the best way, the way he feels when he's with you.

You say faster, so Jason goes faster. You say slow down, so Jason slows down. You say rub my clit, so Jason rubs your clit. You pull him closer with your ankles digging into his back, so Jason steadies himself and fucks you deeper.

And then Jason forgets the lesson. Forgets what makes you so persuasive.

And when you gasp in his ear, "you're fucking me so good, angel," Jason feels his gut tighten dangerously.

"Wh-what?" he asks, hips stuttering.

You grin, eyebrows contorting in pleasure. You grab his face with both hands. Jason's brain is sending him warning signals.

"Ease up," you tell him gently, so Jason eases up. Your grin grows.

"You're such a good listener," you say. "That's why you fuck me so good, Jason."

Gut tightening. Jason wrangles his urge to empty his balls in your pussy. No, he's being good! He's a good boy, not a good dog. Good dogs can't do anything but whimper and come and come.

You scoot closer, forcing him deeper into you. Jason shudders. You wrap your arms around his neck, bring his face close to yours. Jason braces himself with his hands on either side of you.

"Yeah, you're so good." You pet his hair. "You were made to be inside of me, honey bunches."

Briefly, Jason thinks about if the roles were reversed, if it was you inside of him. He thinks you'd probably be able to hold off better than he can. This is actually fucking impossible. You're so wet, pussy a hundred fucking degrees. And when you make him slow down, Jason feels the drag of his dick against your walls, and everything in his brain turns to static.

"If you wanna come, you can come," you say sweetly. Danger, danger! You look up at him, having the gall to look innocent. There's no way you don't know what the hell you're doing.

"Wanna make you come first," Jason says, voice stronger than he feels.

You hum sympathetically. "But you're so sensitive, baby. Can feel you shaking."

Jason shakes his head, locks in. No, he's going to make you come first. He starts to fuck you in earnest, his thrusts hard enough to make you squelch against his cock.

And then you go in for the kill.

"You're so pretty," you say. Jason's eyes flutter. Your gaze turns predatory.

"Yeah, pretty and good and strong. You're my big, strong guy, aren't you? You thought about this all day, I bet. Thought about how you'd make me feel good. You don't have to think about it anymore, sweetpea. All you need to do is get hard and come inside of me."

Jason shakes his head again. No, no, he's not going to give in. He can hold it. He can be good.

"Good boy," comes your sweet voice. "Good Jason. You fuck me the best. No other guy could do it for me like you can. You'd tear open anybody who tried, wouldn't you?"

Jason nods eagerly even though his balls feel tight. Yes! Yes, he would! If you told Jason to bite, he'd only ask how hard. He'll drown his muzzle in blood for you.

"Uh-huh," you say knowingly. "I love you, Jason. I love you so much. I'm yours. And you're mine."

That does it. The last of Jason's control shoots into your cunt in hot spurts. Jason tears up out of frustration and pleasure. His mouth is open in a silent shout.

You grin and keep to yourself how easy it'll be to get knocked up off of your boyfriend's fat cock. A few sweet words and he's coming. That's when you start to believe that this is a habit, not an outlier, for your virginal boyfriend.

"Fuck," Jason says, lashes thick with tears. "Fuck, fuck. I was s'posed ta hold it."

You coo, wipe his tears with your thumbs. "It's okay, baby. I don't mind. We can practice."

Yes, you'll practice, alright. Practice how many times you can make Jason come inside of you. And if Jason's truly bent out of shape about not making you come, well, you have no issue with training him how to eat you out.

(The first time Jason makes you orgasm before himself, he gets so excited he comes.)

Half My Soul

Pairing - Jason Todd X (F) Reader Words - 4.6K Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Unprotected Sex - Swearing - Choking - Dirty Talk - Multiple Orgasms - Crying - Begging - Jason makes reader Embarrassed - Jason is giving major Dom Vibes - Car Crash mention at the start (Reader hits Jason with her car lol) - Fluff at the End. Notes - I have nothing to say for myself. The idea of the reader wearing Jason’s holsters came to me in the middle of the night and I scrambled to come up with something resembling a plot. I love you all very much and hope you like this!! 💕

MASTERLIST

**

You spin into his life with no clear trajectory.

For a second he thinks you’re a misfire, a stray bullet fired straight into the centre of his armour-covered chest. He feels your impact burn, the bones of his spine shaking in response to a wound that isn’t there. There’s adrenaline bleeding into his bloodstream and while Jason knows his mind works a mile a minute, it goes completely silent when he looks at you.

Because you just hit him with your car.

And he’s lying on his back in the middle of the street like a moron.

“Oh fucking shit! Please don’t be dead.” Your voice registers vaguely in the back of his skull, there’s a shrill note of panic weaving through your words and he’d laugh if the breath wasn’t knocked from his lungs. “Also, please don’t sue. I’ve got no money, the only thing you’d win in the settlement is my fucking cutlery.”

He could use some new cutlery.

Keep reading

Just for Today - Happy Lowman

Summary: When Happy turns up with a woman on the back of his bike, his mother is delighted

Warnings: swearing, speeding, lying (lol)

Note: 2.1k WHY DID WE NEVER GET TO MEET HAPPY’S MOTHER?! There was a whole episode where she was just chilling inside near a mess of pancake batter! This is always gonna be one of my favourite tropes. Also somewhere along the way did the fandom just headcanon that Happy was Hispanic? Or was it mentioned in SOA? I can’t remember seeing anything but literally every fic I’ve read has him as Mexican, rolling with it!

Happy glanced at you briefly as he continued his phone call. You had no idea who it was or what it was about but judging by his expression, which in honesty was subtle but spoke volumes for a guy like Happy, it was important.

You took the time to admire the gas station parking lot Happy had parked up in, it wasn’t much. The chance to stretch your legs was a welcomed opportunity. You had only been riding for two hours but for someone that wasn’t well versed at riding on the back of a Harley, your back was killing.

Happy snapped his phone shut and strode back to where you were standing by his bike, “We gotta stop in Bakersfield.”

“What’s in Bakersfield?” You stared up at him, squinting in the sun. He took his helmet from the handlebars and put it back on, you followed suit assuming you were about to take off again.

“My mom.” Was all he said before taking his seat and starting the engine. You couldn’t help the way you jumped at the noise, sure you were getting used to the sound now that you were around the club more, but you still had a way to go. Deciding to ignore Happy’s slight smirk you climbed on behind him, securing your hold around his waist.

“I get to meet Mrs Lowman? I hope she has embar- shit!” Happy speed off from the carpark, cutting off your teasing in the process, “asshole.”

Riding with Happy was… an experience. When you found out that it was him that was tasked with getting you to the San Bernardino charter, you had been hesitant to say the least. You’d even put up the argument that it was a waste of resources, sending him with you, and you would be absolutely fine driving your car down yourself. The club disagreed. It wasn’t safe, they argued. So take the scariest guy we have, you had mocked. You’d made it your mission on this trip to get him to crack a joke, a smile even. So far you’d had no success.

It wasn’t that you disliked Happy. You just hadn’t had much to do with him before. You’d never had a full conversation with the guy. He didn’t joke around like Juice and Tig. He didn’t tell you stories of ‘the old days’ like Chibs and Bobby. He was just there, always observing. Maybe he just hadn’t warmed up to you yet, you’d only come on as SAMCRO’s lawyer five months ago. It kept you busy, busier than you thought it would. But the compensation was worth it.

Happy rode fast, and what should’ve been a 90 minute ride to Bakersfield, definitely wasn’t. You soon found yourself cruising down the streets you could only guess Happy grew up in.

Pulling into the driveway of an older house with an immaculate garden, Happy cut the engine and signaled for you to get off before he followed. Shaking your legs out you took in your surroundings, “Did you grow up here?”

You were fishing for any morsel of information you could get about the man acting as your chauffeur, rolling your eyes when you received a grunt in response. Before you could push for a verbal answer the front door opened and an older woman hobbled out, excitement clear on her face.

Happy made his way to her immediately, gently taking her by the arm to keep her steady, “Ma, slow down.”

She slapped his hand lightly before reaching for his neck and pulling his taller frame into a hug. You smiled at the sight.

It didn’t take long for her to notice you standing back awkwardly, and she looked to Happy for an explanation.

He barely got your name out before she was walking over to you, arms wide open ready to wrap you up in a welcoming hug much like she had done her son.

Catching Happy’s eye over his mother’s shoulder you noticed his face was pulled into a scowl, you raised an eyebrow at his expression.

“Welcome, mija,” she pulled back to smile at your still surprised face, “Come in, come in! Lunch is still hot.”

She turned then and made her way back inside, no doubt to start dishing up the meal.

You walked a few steps to close the gap between you and Happy, “Your mom is the sweetest person.”

Happy nodded in response, the corner of his mouth curling up into an almost smile. He tipped his head to the house signalling for you to head inside. As the two of you walked in you whispered, “What’s her name?” In the rush of the initial meeting you hadn’t even thought to ask.

“Maria.”

As soon as you stepped through the front door you felt… welcome. The walls were decorated with an assortment of picture frames, each containing a different snippet of Maria’s life and loved ones, music was playing quietly from the radio, and a mouthwatering savoury smell filled the air.

You paused in the doorway to the kitchen as Happy stepped around you, gently moving his mother out of the way to get the plates she was trying to reach. Maria patted his arm affectionately, turning her gaze to you she motioned for you to take a seat at the table.

Soon a delicious looking soup was placed in front of you, and the Lowmans flanked you on either side, “Thank you, Maria. This smells amazing.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You might not like it!” She joked as you took your first spoonful, as expected it was delicious. Maria smiled as you voiced your praises.

As you ate quietly, Happy and his mom made small talk catching up, mainly about her health. As spritely as she was, you could see Maria was on the frail side. Happy obviously worried about her.

“You need home help, Ma-“

“I need no such thing, Happy. I’m fine.” She turned her attention to you, cutting off her son, “And what do you do for work, dear?”

You flicked your eyes to Happy briefly seeing his scowl at being interrupted, “I’m a lawyer, ma’am. The boring paperwork kind.”

“A lawyer! Smart girl, Happy. How did you two meet? You never said anything about a girl!” The smile was still on her face as you quietly choked on your mouthful of soup and Happy froze in his seat.

“No, Ma-“ The Son’s explanation was interrupted.

“You know, he’s never brought a girl home before. I worry about him. At home by himself.”

You and Happy locked eyes for a second, before he tried for a second time to explain, “Ma, it’s not-“

Again he was cut off. You had to let out a small giggle as he tipped his head back in frustration.

“You should’ve told me, mijo! I would’ve tidied the house up. Made a good first impression.” Maria looked ecstatic. She looked every bit the doting mom.

“Ma,” he placed his hand flat on the table top to make a point, “We’re-“

“We’ve only been together a few months.” It was you cutting him off this time. You could feel his glare as you stayed facing his mom, “I told him to tell you, but… you know what he’s like!” That made Maria laugh in agreement. Yeah, she knew what he was like. She raised the man. You however, had spent only a few hours with the guy, and that had been in silence on the back of his bike.

The home phone began to ring from the living room, Maria pushed herself out of her seat to answer it, leaving you and Happy alone.

You turned slowly to face him, “Okay-“

“What the fuck are you doing?” His glare hadn’t changed, his tone was accusing, but also curious.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know! It just came out. She sounded so excited, Happy.”

“Not your place.”

“I know,” you sighed, “You saw her, she just wants you to be happy. What do I say now? How the hell do I take that back?”

Your attention was pulled from the man beside you back to his mother as she returned to the table, still smiling brightly, “Julie from down the street. Wanting to gossip. Anyway, what were you saying, dear?”

You swallowed thickly, trying to work out how to break the truth, “Um, actual-“

“Met through the club,” Happy’s gravelly voice was doing the interrupting now, “She was doing some work for TM, went from there.”

You turned to him in shock. What the fuck was happening right now? Instead of meeting your gaze he focused his attention on the bowl of soup in front of him.

“I knew you’d find someone!” Maria grabbed your hand gently, drawing your attention, “He works so hard you know? Always working when I call. He needs someone to draw him away sometimes.”

That you knew. From your limited exposure with the club, you knew they were always working on something. Long nights, often without sleep.

Clearing your throat you nodded your agreement, “I try my best, ma’am. He can be incredibly stubborn though.”

Maria laughed knowingly while her son grunted beside you.

“I know all about that, dear! Keep at him. He gives in eventually.”

You let yourself relax with the current situation, “That’s good to know.”

After lunch and a million more questions about your relationship, which Happy had so kindly left to you to come up with answers for, Maria shooed you away to the living room to relax while she and Happy cleaned up. You had tried to protest but you had quickly learned where Happy got his stubborn trait from.

Sat on the couch flicking through an old photo album that Happy had tried to snatch away from you, only to be scolded by his mother much to your amusement, you found yourself tuning into the conversation between mother and son in the kitchen.

“She’s beautiful, mijo.”

Happy grunted.

“And nice! She’s exactly what you needed.” It was silent bar the splashing of water as the dishes were washed, “You be good to her.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ma.”

“I mean it, Happy. Treat her right. I want her around for a while.” A small smile found its way to your face.

“I know, Ma.” This is not how you saw your day going.

“Do you love her?” You heard him clear his throat awkwardly.

“Shit-“

“Language.”

“Uh, yeah. She’s great.”

You had to bite your tongue to stop the laugh that was close to escaping. You’d never heard Happy speak so softly with someone before.

“I’m happy for you, you know. She’s good for you. Bring her around more.”

“Maybe.”

Footsteps rounded the corner and Happy came to a stop in front of you, staring down at the photo album.

“You were the cutest kid,” you teased, “look at all your hair.” Lifting the book to show him.

“I was there.” He took the opportunity to take the book from you, snapping it shut and putting it back on the shelf, “We gotta hit the road.”

You pouted, wanting to spend more time getting all the juicy details of a younger Happy from his mom, but at his glare stood without argument.

“Heading out so soon?” Maria questioned as she joined the two of you in the living room.

“Gotta get to Berdoo.” Happy answered.

Maria sighed understandingly and turned to you, “See what I mean? Always working!”

Your eyes flicked to Happy briefly, seeing from his expression that he felt bad, “He has an admirable work ethic. I’m guessing he gets that from you, you’ve raised a good man, Maria.”

Maria pulled you into her embrace, “You’re too kind. Keep him in line won’t you?”

“Of course.”

Pulling back from you she turned to her son and repeated the action. It was almost comical, seeing a large man like Happy being pulled down to his mother’s height, “Remember what I said. I want to see her again.”

You should keep a tally of how often Happy responded with a grunt over a verbal response.

“Be safe on the roads won’t you? I love you.”

“Love you too, Ma.”

The love between the two was clear. Happy was the apple of Maria’s eye.

They ended their embrace and Happy moved to stand beside you, taking you by surprise when he hooked a finger through one of your belt loops and tugging lightly, signalling it was time to head out.

“It was lovely to meet you, Maria. Thank you again for lunch.”

She waved off your thanks, “You take care, mija. I’ll see you next time.” She spoke with a wink.

She walked the two of you through the kitchen and waved as you continued out the door.

You waved back enthusiastically, “Bye!”

Happy led you down the path toward his bike, hand barely grazing the small of your back.

“I can’t wait til she’s my mother in law.”

“Put your fuckin’ helmet on.”

The Alchemy I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

warnings: slow burn, mentions of attempted sa for reader, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of standard gotham violence

Dear fuck, he’s as heavy as he looks.

You use all of your weight to pull him backwards towards the couch, almost giving up when you realized you’d have to lift him up off the ground to actually get on it.

Getting him through the window was enough of a hassle, challenging the difficulty of the decision to bring him in here at all. 

Thankfully you don’t have to think too hard on it because you feel his body stiffen up suddenly. He jolts upright, though clearly pained to do so, hand flying to the gun holster on his side.

You take a step back, hands out in front of you. “Hey, it’s alright.”

“Who are you?” His voice is interrogative. 

You put your hands down, “You’re the one who passed out on my balcony, I think if anyone gets to ask that question it’s me.”

He stares at you, white lenses bearing into your soul.

Okay, yeah. You tell him your name. He doesn’t move. “You just looked like you needed some help..”

His posture loosens a bit, and his hand finally leaves the holster.

He glances down at his abdomen, a sizable tear in his suit and a nearly alarming amount of blood. “You got any bandages?”

“Uh, I—yeah, yeah, I do.” You dart down the hall into the bathroom, shuffling through your first aid kid. You toss a few wraps into your arms, along with some antiseptic spray you suspect he’ll need. You grab your hand towel and get it wet under warm water. 

When you return, he’s moved himself onto the sofa, lifting his shirt up to assess the damage. You round the couch, seeing more blood than you’d have hoped for.

“Can I?” You ask, motioning to his injury. 

He looks up at you for a long moment. He nods.

You kneel down in front of him and replace his hand in lifting up the shirt. It’s a cut, it doesn’t look terribly deep, but still not shallow enough that he could just leave it.

You take the rag and dab it around the wound, trying to clean up the blood as much as possible without making contact with it.

He’s very still as you work, and you get the strong impression he’s watching you carefully.

You grab the antiseptic spray, shaking it. “This’ll sting.”

He grunts.

You apply the antiseptic thoroughly and he doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t move his gaze from you for a second.

You unwrap one of the bandages and place it on firmly, making sure there’s no bleedthrough.

And not that you particularly want to be thinking about this right now, but the man is noticeably ripped. Stacked like a house of cards.

You rip away your gaze and stand up, hands on your hips, taking a deep breath. You look at him—at his helmet.

You don’t know how you can tell, but he’s studying you. Trying to get a read on you, maybe. Regardless, you’re eager to escape the gaze.

You shovel the remainder of your supplies back into your arms and bring them back to the bathroom, calling out, “I didn’t take off your helmet, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

There’s a short beat. 

“Do I seem like someone that worries often?” 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door. 

You look at him. “You seem like someone that doesn’t worry enough.”

He snorts. “You’re not far off.”

You make your way back once you’re done, looking at the disregarded meal you’d been interrupted from. “I have pasta if you…eat.”

“I do.”

“I can go in the other room if you—”

He clicks the lock on his helmet, taking it off. He’s left with a second mask underneath, covering his eyes and nose. His dark hair sticks up from the helmet, a white streak poking out in the front. He looks younger than you would’ve expected. Cuter, if his jaw is anything to go by.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Okay then.

You grab a second plate out of the cabinet and scoop on the rest of the pasta from the pan.

You hand him the plate, avoiding standing too close. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

You turn back around as casually as possible after hearing the name, wanting to avoid letting your face give anything away.

This guy kills people, right?

You sit down in the armchair across from the couch, spooling the pasta on and off the fork. He doesn’t show the same hesitation in dining away that you do—you guess fighting crime would require some calorie exchange.

“You a nurse?” He asks after a few minutes. 

The question takes you by surprise. You hadn’t taken him as a small talk kind of person. “Huh? Oh, no, I’ve just taken a few first aid courses and stuff.”

He gives a short hum, thoughtful.

“What?”

“You’re good.” Hardly.

“I didn’t really do anything.”

“You did enough.” He says, not leaving much room for argument.

He stands up at once, walking past you to the kitchen. Your gaze follows him silently. He puts his empty plate in the sink and returns to the edge of the living room.

He looks at you once more and pops his helmet back on followed by the click of the lock.

“I’ll see ya.” He says shortly, before ducking out the window.

You’re left alone, sitting in your armchair, plate of cold pasta forgotten on your lap.

That could’ve gone very badly. Maybe not your most thought-through decision to literally drag the Red Hood into your apartment, but hey. Maybe you’re exercising your ability to be an upstanding, helpful person. Or maybe you were just hoping to prevent a vigilante being found dead on your fire escape.

Regardless, you close the window after him, leaving it unlocked. Just in case.

You wake in the middle of the night to the sounds of footsteps in your living room. You shoot upright, immediately spotting the lamp light flooding in from under your door.

Creeping to a stand, you grab the baseball bat next to your bed and slowly walk to the door.

You creep the door open as quietly as possible, inching out half a step at a time. A nearby creak on your floorboards had you swinging blindly, only to have your bat get stopped midair. You look up to see Mr. Hood himself, blocking the blow of your hit with his hand. 

“Wow. You and a bat against Gotham, huh, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You let go of the bat and drown your face in your hands. “What is wrong with you?”

“Apparently that I don’t carry enough baseball bats with me.” He says coolly, inspecting your bat. Though he’s got to admit, your bat is probably a hell of a lot more useful than his. 

You drop your arms at your side. “If I’d known bringing you into my apartment one time was going to be considered a free pass forever, I might’ve thought twice.”

“If I’d known I was going to nearly be concussed with a baseball bat, I might’ve too.” Barely. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re still half asleep and it was not a very good swing.

He looks at you straight on for the first time. His helmet quickly drifts down and back up to your face just as fast.

You look down. T-Shirt, underwear, and…no that’s it. Not…ideal. You pull down on the unfortunately not at all oversized shirt, wanting to creep back into your room.

He turns his back, allowing you to do just that and scramble for some shorts to throw on. 

“Very gentlemanly of you.” You call out from your room, “And only thirty seconds after breaking into my apartment.”

“Okay, one, I’ve been here longer than that. In a non creepy way.”

“Right.”

“And two, I didn’t break anything. You live in the middle of Gotham and don’t lock your window?”

You reemerge in the doorway, “I live on the eighth floor.” 

He turns around to face you again, helmet in his hands. “Didn’t stop me.” No it did not. 

“Mm. So are you here specifically to judge my home security or was there something you needed?”

He takes a deep breath, “Actually yeah. I just need a place to rest for a minute.” 

“Rest from what?”

A series of gunshots echo from down the street.

“Next question.”

Concise.

You and Hood sit on the couch in the dark, per his insistence, because for some godforsaken reason, you have no curtains. It takes a few minutes for the silence to dissipate into forced conversation, which takes a few more minutes to fade into actual conversation.

“Can I be honest with you?” You ask him.

“Does it matter how I answer?”

“I don’t understand how you’re not dead.” You poke your head up, turning to him. “Are you human?”

He cranes his neck to look out the window, “Maybe getting shot at isn’t the worst thing that could happen tonight…”

You roll your eyes with a smile that you’re glad is hidden by the darkness. “Oh, fuck off.”

“You don’t have much in terms of self-preservation skills, do you?”

You ignore him as to not acknowledge that he’s probably right and roll through to your next curiosity, “Who the hell was shooting at you anyways?” Though, you don’t really expect an answer.

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. They got ‘til sunrise anyway.”

You tilt your head, “‘Til sunri—” oh. Yeah. Come to think of it, he does have two guns on him right now. At least that you can see. You squint blankly at the wall, “You know, I’m placing a lot of trust in the hope that you’re not just as bad as those guys.”

“Yes you are.” He nods, not doing anything to convince you that he is in fact a good guy. He hasn’t tried to harm you in any way though, so you guess that’s a good sign.

You tilt your head at him. “Do you get paid to do this?” 

“I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of people who would pay me not to do this.” 

You nod solemnly, mouth turned into an exaggerated frown. “So you have a day job?”

He looks over at you, “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Are you always so dodgy about answering them?” You shoot back. If you’d thought for .5 seconds longer on that, you might not have said anything. But you feel comfortable here, in your apartment with a man whose face you’ve never seen, name you don’t know, and always has at least two loaded guns on him.

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah. I am.” He looks over at you. “You live here by yourself?”

You look around at the empty apartment before turning back to him, “Seems that way.”

He shrugs, “Boyfriend could be out or something.”

“Well most people are asleep at one in the morning. Like I was. Remember that?”

“No.”

You sigh, curling up into a ball on your end of the couch, resting your chin on your knees. You’re quiet for a minute before piping up, “Do people actually break into apartments on high floors a lot?”

“Stupid people.” He pauses, looking over at the frown on your face. “Look, I’m in the neighborhood a lot. If I see somebody climbing your fire escape I’ll shoot them.”

You let a little smile out, “I’m thinking there’s other steps you could take before you get to that point.”

“If you want to waste time.” His gaze doubles back at you, “That was a joke, by the way.”

You bark out a tired laugh, “Yeah, I picked up on that, thanks.”

He removes his eyes from you, fixing on a set of pictures you have hanging on the wall.

Your eyes flutter and you move to rest your head on the arm of the couch. “Is this going to be a regular thing then?”

“You could lock your window.”

“Living on the eighth floor didn’t stop you, I can’t imagine a shitty lock will do much more.”

“If you don’t want me here, I won’t be here.” He says gruffly.

“If I don’t want you here, I’ll let you know.” You mumble, eyes closing.

You can barely make out a laugh from him, “Good to know.”

You’re not quite sure how much time goes by when he leaves, but you have a pretty strong feeling you’d fallen asleep. Your main indicator was feeling the blanket draped nicely over you that you could’ve sworn was on the chair across the room.

Maybe it’s ten o’clock at night and you’re sat on your kitchen floor, bawling your eyes out. Maybe you’re going to have to quit your job. Or maybe you’ll have to face a lawsuit. Maybe this is the worst day in the history of time. Maybe it’s about to get worse. 

The sound of your living room window sliding open has you startling into a rush, body panicking as if you’ve done something wrong and desperately need to cover the evidence. The past few weeks of sporadic visits leaves no question about who it is, and you just hope the kitchen island in front of you will be enough to convince Hood that you’re not in and he’ll leave.

But because today is today, that’s not how it goes down.

You can vaguely make out the sound of his footsteps approaching, a courtesy that you’re sure he incorporated on purpose.

“Oh fuck…” you mutter to yourself, wiping your eyes.

He rounds the counter, looking down at you. “Wha—what’s wrong?”

“Fuck. Nothing.” You say, standing up and adjusting your clothes. “Are you hurt?” He better fucking not be at only ten.

“No, I—why are you on the floor?” 

You roll your eyes, “I live alone, forgive me for assuming I would be given the privilege to cry on the floor in private.”

“Did something happen?” You’re trying really hard not to call him an idiot. 

You raise your eyebrows, giving a light nod. “Uh, yeah, I’d say so.”

He shifts in his stance, “Do I need to talk to someone?”

You scoff, knowing damn well his version of ‘talk to someone’ does not include talking to someone. “Why are you even here so early?” 

“Wanted to stop by before I went out.” he says quietly.

You’re about to snap something at him again, but the burning in your eyes takes immediate priority. You wrap your arms around your middle and try to calm yourself down, with very little success. The tears fall easily and your shoulders start shaking as you look at the floor, letting the melancholy take over. 

It feels like much longer than it probably was, but sometime after the first few tears fall he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. This only makes you cry harder, sobbing against his armor. Your arms stay wrapped around your center, while his hands remain completely still against your back, though firm. You don’t realize it immediately, but he’s holding a good portion of your weight up, you’d for sure collapse onto the floor otherwise. You kind of wish you would. Sitting on the floor felt nice, maybe falling down on it will feel even better.

You slowly start to regain your breathing, the well in your eyes drying up again. He waits for you to stop completely and slowly pulls back from you, hands momentarily still wavering next to you like he’s ready to catch you.

It takes you a minute to notice, but his helmet is locked on to the finger-shaped bruises on your forearm. You awkwardly move your opposite arm to cover them, looking around your apartment with nothing to search for.  

He’s quiet for a long while, clearly thinking hard. “What happened?”

You sniffle, “Some asshole at my job.”

“Some asshole?” He doesn’t believe you. Rightfully so, but he has no business being able to tell that you’re lying about one single word in that sentence.  

“My boss. Was very intent on successfully hitting on me.” You exhale deeply, “His approach could use some work though, if I’m honest.”

His posture remains statue-like. “Where do you work?”

You look at him straight on for the first time that night, “What does that matter?”

“I’ll take care of it.” He says simply.

You wave him off, “It’s fine.”

He waits a moment before letting you know, “I’m being polite by asking, I’m going to find out either way.”

You plop back down on the kitchen floor, knees to chest. “Well, then do it the hard way.”

About ten seconds of him staring down at you in silence go by, before he sits down next to you. It’s a bit funny how he tries to shrink himself down next to you, you’re assuming because he doesn’t want you to get panicked again because this massive stranger is sitting next to you in your kitchen in the dead of night.  

You don’t look at him as he clicks his helmet off and sets it on the other side of him. It’s quiet for another minute when he holds his gloved hand out to you, and you’re not quite sure how you know what he wants, but you do. You place your bruised arm in his hand, letting him gently pull it closer to him and scan over it. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

Again, you don’t know how, but you can tell he’s asking how far things went. “I started screaming and it freaked him out. He let me go.” you say numbly. 

You can see him nod out of the corner of your eye, bits of red making their way into your peripheral despite the discarded helmet. You turn slowly to look at him, finding him looking at you already.  

His face is more covered than it had been the first night, the same black mask covers his eyes but the lower half of his face is also hidden by a red mouthpiece. You’re in the lamp light and closer to him than you had been before and you’re counting out specks of green in his blue eyes. He lets you, to your surprise, and when you run out of emerald hues you take focus on his thick, dark eyelashes. Your gaze moves back ever so slightly to make eye contact with him and you tear your eyes away, zeroing in on the kitchen tiles. 

You sigh contemplatively, “I’m worried if you kill my boss it’ll be traced back to me and I’ll get pinned for it.”

He doesn’t laugh. But your delivery was a little dry in the wrong way so really it was on you.

“I’m not going to kill him.” he tells you, “I wouldn’t gamble with my pied-a-terre like that.”

Your head falls back, hitting the drawer behind you with a light thud. “Then why waste your time at all?” Maybe you should slow down with the snide comments.

He wants to, but he doesn’t call out the implied self-slighting in your words. “Maybe it’s a ‘me’ thing but I don’t particularly like men that hurt women.”

You let out a dry laugh. “In Gotham, it just might be.”

He sits with you on the linoleum tile of your kitchen until your eyes start to droop and he lightly corrals you to your bedroom before taking his exit through the window. You told him multiple times that he could go and you were fine, but he insisted that nothing important was happening in the city that time of night. You didn’t quite believe him though, because it was past midnight by the time he’d headed out.  

When you showed up to work the following day your boss wasn’t there. Wasn’t there the day after either. Or the day after. He didn’t make an appearance again until the following Monday. And when he did show face, he did so with a neck brace and a cast on his leg. But once more, he absolutely refused to make eye contact or speak to any of the female employees. It actually became a whole thing when he wouldn’t give instructions or feedback to any of you, and insisted on having his secretary replaced with a man, who he then used as a middle man to speak to all of the women for him. HR got involved three times in the span of the next five days, and by the Monday after, he’d been fired.

So to recap: yes, no, no, undecided, and hard no. 

Maybe you’re really starting to like this Red Hood guy.

Hard yes.

You’re slightly on guard upon hearing a clattering on the balcony, though if the past few weeks have been any indicator, you’re not in much danger.

Your posture slumps as you peer around the hallway corner, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Good to see you too.” he grumbles, dropping onto the floor.

“Well, I have to imagine I’m a step up from the last person you saw.” You say, looking him up and down, seeing what sure as hell looks like a gunshot wound on his chest armor. “What happened to you? The Mad Hatter uses guns now?”

He groans, “Ah, I said something about him being a heartless fuck, and I guess he took it personally.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, Hood.”

He waves you off, “It’s not that big of a deal.” 

You scoff, “He tried to shoot you in the heart.”

“Yeah, well, he missed.” He grumbles, adjusting his position on the couch. 

You exhale sharply, “How do you know?”

“How do I know?” He tilts his helmet at you, exasperated. 

You throw your arms up at your side, “I don’t know! I’m not equipped for this scenario.”

He huffs, “Look, it’s fine, it hit my armor. It’ll probably just be a bad bruise.”

“Probably?”

“I don’t think there’s blood. Could you…” he vaguely gestures to his torso, but it's enough for you to get the hint.

You shake the panic out of your head, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

You help him shrug off his jacket as he strips off his armor, and you lift his shirt up as slowly as you can in case the injury is worse than he thinks.

You’re not shocked to see that he has scars, that’s kind of a given in his line of work. What you are shocked to see is one very long scar that lines directly up the center of his body. It’s a deep scar, too.

And, oh. The long scar extends further, splitting off into a fork at his collar. That’s—oh. Oh. Oh. That is an autopsy scar. 

You’re not sure what to do. You’ve never seen a living person with an autopsy scar—though you have to imagine neither have most people.

He clearly does not want to talk about it and you’re happy to let him keep the skeleton in the closet.

You avert your gaze back over to his diaphragm at the area of reddened skin.

“There’s no blood, but…” You inspect it a bit closer, “I think there’s going to be a bad bruise. You might end up with bruising on your ribs, you need to get that looked at.”

“I am.” He says shortly.

You stand up straight, dropping your shoulders. “By someone who went to medical school. Or has taken more than one anatomy class in their life.” 

He yanks down his shirt, standing, apparently too quickly, and wobbling. You catch his arm as he sways, attempting to steady him. “You should sit down.”

“Need to go back out.” He grunts, trying to pull away from you with little force.

“To get killed? ‘Cause you’re going the right way about it.” 

He tilts his head at you like he’s daring you to be so bold again. At least that's what it felt like. You sigh, gesturing to the couch, “Sit down.”

You didn’t expect it to work but he does as told.

You look around, unsure of what to do next. “Do you need ice?”

“What?”

“You’re hurt.” You say slower. “Do you need ice?”

He falters for a second, “No, it’s—no.” A couple beats pass before he adds, “Thanks, sweetheart.” 

It’s impossible not to notice that he’s staring at you. You feel hot under his gaze, not knowing what to do with yourself. You clear your throat, telling him to hang on for a second. 

You call out behind you as you walk to the kitchen, “Take your helmet off, it’s rude.” You grab the painkillers from their new easily-accessible place on the kitchen counter and grab a water bottle from the fridge.

It was a joke but when you come back his helmet is off and he’s just wearing his domino eye mask. His hair is extra tousled, the white streak barely visible in the mess of loose curls. You toss the bottle of meds at him, followed by the capped bottle of water. He catches them easily, downing more than he probably should have but he got shot tonight so you figure you’ll give him a break about it.    

You plop down on the couch next to him, honestly closer than you’d meant to. Your knees and shoulders lightly brush against one anothers, though neither of you make any moves to scoot over. 

You both look straight ahead at the wall, simmering in the amity. “So did somebody else deal with the Hatter or when you get shot do you just bounce back like a T-1000?”

He scoffs, “No, getting shot at is a bit of an inconvenience for me.”

“Wrong line of work.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “You’re telling me.”

You turn your head to him, “Why do you do it then?” 

He looks back at you earnestly. “Someone has to.” 

“Someone does.”

He tenses up a bit at that, breaking eye contact. “Not well enough.” 

Your head slowly lulls and drops into a rest on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen up a bit more before almost completely relaxing.

“So violence is the answer to violence?” you ask, not argumentative, just genuinely musing. 

Hood sighs, “Half-assed reform programs didn’t do anything, shitty ‘crisis interventions’ didn’t do anything, the cops sure as hell don’t do anything.” He shrugs under you. “You run out of options eventually.”

“And that’s why you took it upon yourself to intervene?”

“Mm. ‘When reason fails, the devil helps.’” He says, quite melodramatically, in your opinion.

“I-Is that—” you squint, shooting off of his shoulder to look him in the eye. “You spend your nights getting in street fights and shootouts and you spend your days reading Crime and Punishment of all things?” You gawk at him, “That explains a lot about your disposition.”

He shrugs with a shake of his head. “It’s a rough world. Can’t afford to be reading about Hogwarts.”

You pause, combing through your next words, “‘Man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn’t calculate his happiness.’”

His eyes crinkle under his mask as he smiles, clearly pleasantly surprised that you know your shit. “Touché.”

You grin back, pleased with yourself. 

There’s a brief recession where your smiles both get caught in the flicker between on and off, where your eyes take the opportunity to scan over each other’s faces. 

You realize that this may be the first time you’ve seen him properly smile and it’s so magnetizing. So much so that you don’t realize you’re staring at his lips until your eyes snap back up to his and find that his are on yours.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he nudges you a bit with his shoulder. It does just enough to break the trance, giving you the cue to rest your head on him again. This time you allow more of your weight to lean against him and he actually seems relaxed for once.

 You glance at the clock on the wall without moving and realize it’s almost four in the morning. “I’m tired, Hood.” you mumble into his shirt.

“You don’t—” he falters for a moment, “You don’t have to call me that.”

You squint at him, “What should I call you then?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “J.”

“J?” you whisper, like it’s a grave secret. You guess it kind of is.

He nods.

“Okay.” Your cheek flattens against his shoulder. “J.” 

You nearly think you’re imagining it when you feel him rest his head against yours.

“You don’t know how to protect yourself?”

You roll your eyes at him, “You saw the way I swung at you with the baseball bat, what do you think?”

It’s only just after sunset, you could still see some purple-pink hues in the sky if you looked out the window. He’s started showing up before patrol some nights, saying he felt bad about waking you up at 3 am multiple times a week. So now, he mostly only drops in late if he’s a manageable amount of injured.

You stand in the middle of your living room together, after you’d made a joke about needing him as a bodyguard in Gotham. As it turns out, that was a one way street to him finding out that you’re useless in a fight.

“I was hoping you were having an off night because you just woke up, but now I'm concerned.” He says, grimacing.

You shrug, “I carry pepper spray.” 

He grumbles, displeased. “Put your hands up.”

You drop your head to the side and glower at him, “Really?”

He raises his eyebrows at you. Just do it. 

Alright, you’ll humor him. You put your fists up and he holds his hands open in front of you in kind. You throw a light punch.

“Come on, put your weight behind it.”

You do, hitting his hand harder. “Hood—”

He tilts his head forward at that, looking at you through his brows.

You inhale impatiently, “J, Why do we have to do this? I don’t have any illusions that I could knock you out and I can’t imagine you do either.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s not about knocking someone out, it’s about defending yourself. Gonna be a hell of a lot harder to hurt you if you’re throwing punches. Harder.”

You give a raised hum, “Not if they have a gun…”

“Well, we’ll work on that too.”

You groan, throwing a half-assed hit. “Where’d you learn to fight?” You ask before throwing another.

“Turn your body into it.” He corrects. “My, uh, my dad taught me.”

You hum, hitting him again. “Are you guys close?”

“You’re being nosy again.” He grunts amidst a hit.

“You’re being evasive again.” You shoot back.  

He drops his hands, taking your wrists in his, “Here, put your hands in front of your face when you shoot so you can block counters.” He tells you, adjusting your stance accordingly.

You make a face, “I’m confused, am I fighting a mugger or a kickboxer?”  

He ignores you, moving his hands around to give you different angles to hit at. 

You go at it for a few minutes, taking his critiques with reluctant concedence. “Alright, that’s good.” He says, relaxing his body.

You perk up, “We’re done?” 

“No,” he shuts you down before asking earnestly, “Do you trust me?”

Your brain hadn’t even fully processed the question before you nod, mumbling a ‘yes’. He takes a measured step closer to you, watching carefully for your reaction. You almost back up in surprise, angling your head up further to look at him properly. You give no objection, so he continues, “I want you to try to get me on the ground.”

You let out a sound that’s half-laugh, half-scoff. “You’re twice my size.”      

He sighs, looking at you somberly. “Sweetheart, odds are you’re not going to be evenly matched against someone that wants to hurt you. You get ‘em on the ground ‘n you have the upper hand or it’ll give you time to get away.”

You throw your hands up at your sides, “I don’t—” You huff, “Fine, okay.” You try to trip him by sliding your leg behind his and kicking, but he blocks you expertly.

You, against better judgment, shove your shoulder into his side, though it does nothing to phase him, let alone knock him down. 

“You gotta get more creative than that.” He chastises with a tut. 

In response, you take a step back to reassess the situation. You try to maintain a poker face as you strategize in your head. You make a dive for his legs, wrapping your arms around the back of his legs and pulling hard to make him lose balance. You’re sure if he were actually trying for a damn you would immediately be done for afterwards, but it does make him wobble. You then throw all of your weight against him, pushing him backwards and causing him to hit the floor with a thud.

He probably allowed for gravity to come to your aid, but he lands on his back all the same. You land half on him, half on the carpet, your hand resting on his chest. He looks up at you nodding, “Good. That was good, sweetheart.”

You smile, quite proud of yourself, and start to stand up when he hooks his arm around the back of your knee and pulls you to the ground too, switching places with you. You hit the ground gently with a sigh, “Really?”

He has one hand rested next to your head to balance him in his place above you. He smirks down at you and lets a tussle of white hair hang over his forehead. “Can’t be getting cocky, sweetheart.”

You laugh sourly, “Coming from you?” 

You quickly push at the bend of his arm and use the distraction to adjust your position to wrap your legs around his center and push your arm against his chest in an attempt to rotate him off of you.

He counters you by pushing your shoulder down, holding you down to the floor. His opposite hand flies to pull your forearm away from his chest, pinning it next to your head, careful to avoid your hair. He moves so quickly that you have half a mind to think he acted on pure instinct. That, and the look on his face when the dust settles says that he hadn’t intended for you to end up in this position. 

Your legs are still wrapped around him and you’re too frozen in the moment to make any changes. He’s in no more of a rush to move, large frame towering over you. You feel his touch stutter against your shoulder, his eyes flickering across your face.

You gaze up at him, taking in the soft look in his eyes behind the mask. You think you can see more green than you did before. You unwrap your legs from around his waist and slowly start to sit up. He releases your wrist and eases the pressure on your shoulder. He leans back half as quickly as you move forward, stopping when you’re propped up on your elbows.

Your faces are only a few inches apart and it feels like your only option is to look down at his lips. You have a feeling he’s doing the same to you. The adrenaline of the hassle has long since faded but the rhythm in both of your chests remains quick.

He leans forward so barely, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. “J…” you say breathily, not sure what implication you’re aiming for.

He stills and this time you’re sure he’s looking at your lips. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to come back to himself and inches his face away from yours slowly. 

You let the hold in your breath release, disappointed more than anything. He eases off the floor to a stand and holds his hand out to help you up too. You take it with more of a frown than you’d meant to let out and rise to your feet.

“Let’s, uh…” He looks at the ground before taking a step back and putting his hands up again. “Let’s try some combos.”

You blink up at him for a second before raising your hands too.  

Alright, one step at a time.   

─── [𝘚𝘊𝘈𝘙𝘠 𝘉𝘖𝘠𝘍𝘙𝘐𝘌𝘕𝘋 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘛𝘠 𝘎𝘐𝘙𝘓𝘍𝘙𝘐𝘌𝘕𝘋] <3

⌗ 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 + 𝐁𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐎!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝟏𝟖+, big size kink, dacryphilia, choking, fingersucking, oral, throat fucking, praise kink, use of safe 'word', spanking, fingering, daddy kink/ddlg, vaginal sex, manhandling, hair pulling, finger sucking, all characters are over 18, readers skin color is not mentioned

You're boyfriend comes home and sees you all dolled up, what is he supposed to do other than mess it up by making you cry in pleasure?

✧ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 ✧ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘!!

Jason left at 7pm, it was now 2am and you were still awake..

While trying to fall asleep you found yourself watching random videos on your phone and scrolling through various apps, finding cute outfit ideas and just clothes overall. Then you got bored and decided to read some of Jason's books under the bed, they were really good and you were invested but you suddenly felt the need to put on makeup..and boom, you're wide awake and now waiting for your big boyfriend to come back.

And just as you were done with admiring yourself and your work in the mirror you heard the window open, meaning jason was home.

You hopped up and opened the door from your bedroom to make your way to the livingroom, you stopped for a second and froze as you took in the image of your tall, downright scary looking boyfriend. The red practically glowed in the dim light on the moon shining through the window.

"You're just gonna stare, huh?" His slightly moduled but still deep voice snapped you out of it. He turned around and god..he looked even more terrifying "why’re you awake, babe?" He asked as he walked towards you "hm?" He questioned again with his cold fingers against your warm cheek "couldn't sleep.." you smiled and looked up at him through your falsies.

He hummed and took his masks off and smiled down at you, god you never really took in how fucking tall he was..he literally towers over you.

"Who did you get so dolled up for?" He asked softly and so lovingly, he adored you quite frankly..I mean how could he not? How couldn't anyone see you and not fall for you? Jason's lucky to have you, and you're lucky to have him. It goes both ways of course, cause who wouldn't want a goddamn handsome man like him? He was smart, respectful, educated, fucking hot and he knew how to fuck.

You smiled at his question and grabbed his gloved hand "no one actually..I was bored and wanted to try this style of makeup i saw" he chuckled and shook his head "looking so pretty cause you're bored, hm?" Jason's hand went to your waist and down to under your big shirt to grab at your soft ass "how about we make the most of it?"

You tried to contain your grinning but ultimately failed as you teasingly asked "what do you have in mind, mister red hood?"

Jason chuckled deeply, that name coming from your lips got him excited. really, really excited.

"I think you know, little miss civilian"

You cocked your head to the side, more into his touch and Jason put his thumb on your bottom lip as you immediately wrapped your glossy and plump lips around it, staining his gloves with the sticky lipgloss. You started to suck and didn't break eye contact with your big boyfriend.

Jason just groaned at your innocent look and slowly ran his other hand back up again to stop and softly caress the sides of your neck before he breathed out "can I?" He asked almost desperate. He always asked, but the way he asked right now meant that he'll be rough with you tonight.

You hummed around his digit in excitement "mhm~" as a 'yes, fucking please!'

As soon as jason got your consent he slammed you against the wall behind you by grabbing you neck in a tight grip. Jason was already breathing quite heavy and his pupils were blown wide, leaving very little of the pretty green color left in his eyes, he had the Adrenaline from being out on patrol and beating people half to death still pumping through his whole body, making him feel almost high. He was already rock hard thinking about how he would pound your poor pussy into the mattress.

Jason pulled his thumb out and shoved his index and middle finger down your throat "yeah, take it, baby..good girl" he huffed and groaned softly at your cute choked noises as you gagged on his fingers. His cock ached and throbbed in his tactical pants at how goddamn pretty you looked gagging on his fingers and him holding you up by your throat with your toes barely touching the floor.

"Fuck you drive me insane.." he hissed through gritted teeth. Your hand suddenly went down from his chest to his abs and then finally his weeping cock, making the man hiss and moan, that was the last straw for him, he needed to feel you "fuck—get on your knees, baby—get on your knees for me"

you happily did as he said while his hands helped you down to the ground. Jason unbuttoned his pants and shoved them down far enough to let his fat cock bounce up and down infront of your face, It pulsed and twitched as your eyes could only look at his veiny cock, your mouth began to water and gap at the sight.

"Open your mouth, pretty girl" Jason hummed "and give me your hands" he demanded as he already grabbed both your wrists and placed them on his strong chest. "Don't want you touching my pussy without permission, hm?" Your head was trapped between his big built and the wall behind you, it made you feel so vulnerable to him, you loved it.

Jason pressed the wet head of his throbbing cock against your lips and pushed you harder against the wall in the process as you let him slide his fat cock inside your mouth. You instinctively started sucking him in as far as you could, relishing in the needy and absolutely horny moans from Jason.

Jason choked a broken moan out as you started suckling on the salty with precum head of his cock, you moaned at the mere taste of him and you knew you were already embarrassingly wet. "And remember, baby..three taps on my chest and i'll stop, okay?" You nodded and sucked harder on his tip, but that wasn't enough consent to him so he pulled out of your mouth with a hiss "I need a yes, baby, I'm about to face fuck you dumb, I need you to understand your safe word."

You almost moaned at the way he scolded you but you decided to be good and nodded "y-yes I get it..three taps.." your eyes kept switching between his emerald ones and his red and dripping cock "good girl..you deserve your reward now, hm?" You nodded frantically "mhm!" and waited for his 'go ahead'

"Oh my god—fuck..you little vixen.." he cursed. Jason couldn't fucking stop himself from rutting into your mouth and moaning at your gags. His cock felt so heavy on your tongue and in your throat, god this felt almost therapeutic. It made you feel so good, airheaded, no thought in your head, no worries in the world, just fucking good.

Jason started thrusting harder into your tight and warm throat "ohh..f-fuck!" He cursed through gritted teeth.

Your manicured hands started to grab at his chest and dig your nails into him. Fuck you were so wet it was getting so uncomfortable, you needed relief so bad that you just clenched your thighs together just for the smallest friction on your throbbing clit.

Jason held your hands against his chest tightly while moving his hips against you and basically using your throat as his pretty fleshlight.

Jason fucking loves getting blowjobs from you, it's his favorite thing when he gets back, just you hungrily sucking him off. So desperate to drink his hot and bitter cum. He still thinks a lot about that one time he came home and you immediately came over to him and got on your knees for him, it was a little awkward cause the door was still open and the neighbor just passed your apartment at that moment, but that just made it hotter. He wants everyone to know that you're his. he would fucking die for that moment to happen again. You were so horny that night, just wanted to suck him off so, so bad. But truly nothing beats being inside of your hot and tight cunt, just swallowing his cock whole as you grind your hips against him and he plays with your clit.

Jason pressed his forehead against the wall and almost came when the both of you made eye contact, just your teary eyes looking up through your pretty lashes, eyeliner and mascara running down your cheeks. Something about knowing that he caused this just fucking did it for him, he made a mental note to take a picture of you after he's done with you.

Jason threw his head back and just kept fucking your throat as he began to huff and groan almost animalistic, then the need to be touched became way too much for your poor body to handle and you tapped on his chest. Jason, being the decent man he is, immediately pulled out of your mouth and kneeled down to your level, cupping your pretty but messy face, drool covering your mouth, tears streaming and makeup already ruined.

But he couldn't focus on that right now, "are you okay, baby? Did I go too hard?" He asked out of breath and worried that he might've hurt you. You immediately shook your head "n-no! Just want you to fuck me, jay.."

You gave him a fucked out smile and his cock was never that hard before, you looked like a dream..maybe a wet one but those are always the best.

Jason just let his hand wander your soft and curvy body as he grabbed your neck again with the other to kiss you, neither of you really wanted to make the kiss romantic. Right now, you two just wanted to fuck like rabid bunnies.

Jason had his fingers and nails dig into the plush skin of your waist "shit..m gonna ruin you tonight."

You shivered and yelped as jason suddenly yanked you off the floor and swung you over his shoulder with your ass right next to his face, he could've sworn he was able to smell your sweet cunt. jay was literally unable to resist the urge to play with your wet pussy while you're over his shoulder, so he basically ripped your panties off your ass and yanked them down your legs to throw them onto the floor "jayy~" you whined, grabbing onto the red jacket "don't tease me—" your breath stuttered once Jason's fingers easily slipped into your cunt "oh fuck.." he said under his breath, just barely audible "sweetheart, you're so fucking wet for me.."

Your hips started to jerk into his touch while Jason just curiously played with your folds and wiggled his finger inside of your cunt. "S-stop!~" your pleads just made him chuckle and smile "you say that, but you keep clenching and bucking your hips" he paused and striked a harsh slap against your ass "bad girl" he said, the grin in his voice was very evident, he loved playing with you like this, just getting you as desperate as possible. "Jason~ fuck—please just f-fuck me!"

Jason kissed your ass and walked over to the bedroom and swinging off his shoulder so that you were laying on the edge of the bed and you immediately spread your legs for Jason as you watched him take the rest of his get-up off and then drop to his knees "your pussy's the only thing I'd get on my knees for.." he placed a kiss on your clothed cunt and spoke up again "maybe for you too but..this ain't the time to talk about that" he mumbled and kissed your pussy again before hooking his fingers underneath the waistband "how much were these?" You steadied yourself on your elbows and breathed out a "huh?" Jason rolled his eyes and looked up at you "were they expensive?" He asked again to which you shook your head "not really.." "not really?" He repeated with a chuckle "yeah, why—" you got cut off by the loud sound on cotton ripping, Jason just ripped your panties in half..fuck that sheer strenght of his made your pussy clench around absolutely nothing. But you wanted to clench down on his cock so bad.

Jason grinned up at you through his black hair and then just started making out with your pussy lips, grunting and growling at the taste of your sweet pussy. You were writhing on the sheets and grabbing them as your back arched off the mattress "ohh—f-fuck! D-da.." you trailed off, not sure if you wanted to say it but then jason stopped fucking you with his tongue and just slid his fingers back into your pussy as he got onto the bed "yeah? What did you wanna say, hm?" He huffed as his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead and his red, hard cock pressed against your thigh, once he got up, twitching and leaking on your skin "I'm listening, baby" he groaned out in such a sweet but deep tone while he looked down at you. you bit your bottom lip, choking down some moans as his fingers rubbed against your g-spot, jason knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew what made you twitch, writhe and scream.

You finally spoke up "daddy.." and Jason's soft face turned dark with lust and a grin telling you that you aren't gonna be able to even sit tomorrow.

Jason grabbed your waist and flipped you over, showing his your beautiful ass and your arched back "fuck, look at that ass.." he mumbled as he just admired your beautiful body, he loves every fucking curve, dip and stretch mark of your body. He could kiss every inch of you every second of the day and he'd die happy.

Jason's strong hand came up to your pussy and sank in two fingers, but not moving them. Leading to you whining and crying "don't whine baby.." he began and slapped your ass "how about you just shake your ass on my fingers?" He grinned and tugged his bottom lip between his teeth "and if I'm feelin' nice, you'll finally get this fat cock in your needy pussy, yeah?"

You immediately nodded "o-okay!" You mewled but you then recieved another slap on your ass "what was that?" He asked while squeezing the plush flesh "m-meant yes, daddy" you corrected and started shaking your ass to feel more of his fingers, making you lay your head on the sheets and bite them to muffle your moans and embarrassing whimpers.

Jason enjoyed the show greatly, he watched your ass bounce up and down on his fingers so intently. He chuckled and pulled his fingers out of you to quickly suck them clean and grab his cock "fuck..you're such a good girl, baby..the best girl, aren't you?" You hummed in agreement, your mind was at that point that you just agreed with anything jason said without even knowing what he was saying. And Jason knew that, so he will ask you to repeat what he said so you know exactly what you agree to

"then say it, baby" Jay rasped and grabbed your hips with one hand while the other is grabbing his cock and teasingly prodded it against your clit and then through your folds. "H-huh?" You asked, mind confused and clouded due to his cock being so close to being inside you

Jay grabbed you by the hair and pulled your head back so you looked him right in the eye "say you're my good girl" he groaned and softened his tone as he trailed off, seeing your glossy, pretty eyes..with no thought behind them "my pretty, favorite little sweetheart.." you grinned dumbly and opened your mouth just to get cut off my a gasp as jason pushed the head of his cock inside, causing jason to already huff and groan. "C'mon now, say it, smart girl" he mocked and shook your head in his hand.

You whined and wiggled your ass, you tried to push against him to get more of his cock inside but his hand on your hip stopped you, again, jay was way bigger and stronger than you. And having you fight against him, knowing you'll lose got him so hard. Your play fights always turned into rough sex

"'M your good girl, daddy! I'd do anything for you, daddy!" Jason grinned and moved his hand down from your jaw to your neck again and roughly manhandled you to turn over so you were laying on your back and he had all of that pretty body on sight. "Look at you.." he said, with a deep but soft voice as he was watching you over like you were some type of meat to him. He chuckled once you reached your arms out and made grabby hands so he'd kiss you again "so needy.." he smiled down at you and did as you asked, you happily wrapped your arms around his neck and hummed once he kissed you.

Before you knew it, jay was pushing his cock past your pussy lips and slowly pushed further, "mmpff!—j-jayy!" You whined at the stretch and dug your sharp nails into his back, he winced a bit, but God did he love your nails scratching his back open. Jason dipped his head down to kiss at the soft skin on your neck to suck a few dark spots into it. Jay loved seeing the marks he left on you the next morning, and of course also seeing the marks you left on him, sometimes he even verbally encourages you to suck hickeys into his skin.

The stretch of his cock certainly wasn't unwelcomed, but it was still a bitch to get it inside..Jason looked up again and quietly checked up on you "you okay?" Even though he was trying to keep his persona going, he still cared about your well being.

You nodded happily and kissed him again while your legs wrapped around his waist to get him to go deeper. once his tip finally brushed ever so slightly against your cervix, he let out guttural, animalistic growl to be then followed up by a whimper. Jason didn't waste anytime to start thrusting in and out of that little piece of heaven you got between your legs, because God knows jason would go feral if he tried cockwarming with you. He just needed to fuck you at any given moment, he's a desperate mess just like you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He cursed through gritted teeth as his hips continued to slap against yours and his cock hammered in and out of you "you feel so fucking good, baby—" Jason whimpered and groaned once he felt your pussy clench and throb around him, jason knew just how to fuck you so you'd fall apart almost immediately. Your nails were scratching at his strong back "you gonna cum for daddy? Already?" He scoffed and as you nodded he pulled out, leaving you moaning and frustrated as he just grinned down at you

"I want you to ride me, can you do that for me?" He asked with a cocky grin while you whined and pouted "j-jaee..." you slurred and grabbed at his arms, jason tapped your forehead and chuckled "can't be this dumb already, babe..c’mon" he ordered and laid down on the pillow before grabbing your hips and pulling you onto him. Once you were ontop and could see his smug face again you pouted sadly "Jay—" "when you ride me you can get to cum as much as you like, how does that sound, hm?"

Jason grinned again at you staring down at his cock, almost hypnotized "c'mon, be a good girl and ride Daddy's thick cock" he urged by massaging the fat of your wide hips "k-kay, daddy.." you mewled and slowly aligned his cock with your dripping hole to immidietly drop down on him with a loud and long moan.

Jason clenched his teeth and gripped your hips tighter "shit—Baby, you feel so good..fucking everytime feels like the first fucking time" he cursed and let his head fall back, he looked so pretty like this. Relaxed, face flushed with heat and his hair stuck to his forehead while the other hairs decorated the pillow nicely. "Bounce for me, babe..bounce on my cock" he groaned as you started lifting your hips slightly and dropping back down, finding a rhythm you both enjoyed. You desperately rolled your hips and threw your head back, so lost in the pleasure. You put your hands on those that were on your hips to help you steady yourself.

You thought you had a nice view before, but you're not seeing what he sees..he just sees his fucking angel making herself feel good on his fat cock, so good that she doesn't even know what's going on anymore, his pretty little airhead angel..

You choked out a moan and felt your thighs burn, but you were so close again..that burning in your legs wasn't going to stop you. Jason felt your hot walls throb and convulse on his cock, making him grin again and let his dominants hand travel down to play with your clit, he's always happy to make you cum faster.

"Yeah, baby..fuckin' cum on me" he huffed and watched you closely as your thighs started shaking "make a fuckin' mess— good fucking girl" Jason looked up was was not ready for that sight..

You were sucking and biting on your own fingers as your mascara and eyeshadow running eyes stared him down as you came on him. Jason cursed, gritted his teeth and grabbed your wrists to slam you under him as he fucked you into the mattress like a feral animal "f-fuck, baby..you damn angel, huh?" Jason ripped your fingers out of your mouth and replaced them with his own "so fuckin' pretty..damn.." he groaned and began to thrust harder, forcing another orgasm out of you. You whined and mewled as you bit down on his fingers and came on his cock.

"P-please, daddy! C-cum inside me!" You cried, muffled due to your mouth being full. Jason couldn't even think anymore after everything you just said and did, his thrusts became more sloppy as he moaned into the mattress next to you. "Fuck!" His yelling drowned in the mattress as he creamed your pussy full to the brim.

You don't think he ever came that hard...and that much..after good 10 seconds he was still cumming and moaning before pulling away from the mattress with a string of spit connected to it and his lips "that was...fucking good..." he chuckled and grinned down at you, he held his weight up to not crush you and just look at you and the marks he's left on you.

"My pretty girl..fuck you look so good" he said in a soft and loving tone as he wiped your hair away from your face, "I could just look at you all day.." you giggled at his compliment "no you couldn't! You'd try to fuck me" Jason let out a soft laugh and kissed your forehead "let me run you a bath, okay?" As he was about to pull out, you pulled at his bicep to get his attention "wait, you forgot something.." you mumbled with an almost shy grin. Jay smiled and ran his finger over your cheek "n what would that be?"

You bit your bottom lip with the same grin "you wanted to take a photo of me.." you mumbled and Jason's eyes widened a bit before kissing you "you're right, baby.." his grin widened and reached down to the side of the bed to reach into his pants to get his phone.

Once he got it, he pulled his Softening cock out of you and groaned out a hushed "fuck..look at that.." as he saw your cunt drip with his cum. Jay turned on the camera and made sure to get both your overflown pussy and your pretty face in the picture "say 'I love my daddy'" he encouraged as he held your thighs open you giggled happily and said "I love my daddy!"

He took the picture and smiled at it before throwing his phone behind him on the bed and threw himself onto you to leave kisses all over your face "jayy~ you wanted to take a bath!"

"Just one second.." he mumbled before grabbing your face and kissing you on your pouty lips "I love you, baby.."

You kissed him back and giggled into the kiss "I love you more~"

⌗Tagging ☆ @spaceace5834 @winterbimbwo

Working For It

Pairing(s): Bruce Wayne x F!Reader x Selina Kyle

Summary - Bruce and Selina love to make you work for his cock.

Warnings - 18+ ONLY! Smut. Thigh riding. Fingering. Face sitting. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Multiple orgasms. Bruce and Selina are a little mean. Aftercare.

Word Count - 1.9k

“Come on, baby. We both know you can do better than that,” Selina purrs from where she lays on the bed. She’s on her side, one hand supporting her head while the other is between her thighs, playing with her clit.

All you can do is whine and moan as you roll your hips, almost desperately, against Bruce’s bare thigh. His back is against the headboard, eyes dark as he watches you cover his thigh in your slick. His cock is rock hard, the head red and dripping precum. He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t know, Selina. I don’t think she wants my cock that badly.”

His words have you whining out of frustration. You do want his cock. You really do, but the slicker his thigh gets with your juices the less friction there is, making it harder to keep your pace and chase your pleasure. 

“I do,” you gasp. “I do want your cock! I want it so badly.” 

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless?” he asks. 

You nod eagerly. You do. You really do. It’s been on your mind more often than it hasn’t all week and it’s been driving you crazy. But both of your lovers seem content with torturing you instead.

“Gonna be a good girl and come on my thigh then?”

“Yes. I want to be your good girl,” you mange to choke out. You try angling your hips differently, getting your clit to fully press against his body, but it doesn’t really work. Instead it only leaves you more frustrated than you were before.

Bruce must take pity on you because the next thing you know you’re being briefly lifted from his thigh while a towel is draped over his thigh.

“There we go. That’s better,” he coos. The hand on your hip, that’s been keeping you stable this entire time, gives you a gentle squeeze.

You have already started rutting against him again, the friction created by the towel giving you more control and feeling of it dragging against your engorged clit feels amazing and has you finally getting closer to your release. 

Bruce is enjoying the fucked out expression on your pretty face as you moan and fuck yourself on his thigh. You’re so goddamn wet that you have already soaked the towel, seeping through the fabric and clinging to his skin. His attention is pulled away from you as Selina moves. She pushes her tongue into his mouth and he moans into the kiss. His free hand comes up between her thighs, his fingers easily sliding through her slick folds and he pushes them up inside of her. She moans as she starts to fuck herself onto his fingers and he takes the opportunity to wrap his mouth around one of her nipples.

Your eyes are completely focused on Bruce and Selina. You love watching your two lovers kiss and touch each other. It adds to your own excitement, adding to the pressure building up deep inside of your lower stomach. Selina’s gaze meets yours, mischief dancing in those green eyes of hers.

“I think she should only be able to have your cock if she can cum in the next 30 seconds.” 

Bruce chuckles and it’s clear he’s agreeing with her. They both love torturing you so much and you’re so intoxicated by both of them that all you can do is listen to them because you want it. You want his cock. No, you need his cock. You need to feel him splitting you open and filling you up so badly, until you’re so fucked out you can’t remember your name anymore. 

“20 seconds,” Selina calls.

As mean as he can be at times, Bruce is still nice enough to keep a grip on your hips, continuing to give you the leverage that you need as you continue to grind your soaked cunt against him.

“Ten seconds.”

They both can tell you’re close by the way that your moans continue to grow louder and louder.

“5 seconds, baby. Time’s almost up.”

By the time that Selina reaches 3, you’re crying out Bruce’s name, your head thrown back and your eyes shut, as your orgasm steals away your breath. He catches you as you collapse against him, your head coming to rest against his chest as your body shakes and you trying to regain control of your breathing. As you come down from your high, catching your breath, he praises you and tells you what a good girl you are for them. Selina’s hands come to rest on your hips and she presses feather light kisses to your sweat soaked skin, adding her voice to his praises. 

Their words start to spark more heat inside of you, a growing need starting to build back up from deep within. There’s only one thing that you can think of that will help soothe it.

“I can’t believe the two of you timed me,” you mutter once you finally feel recovered enough. “I better get my reward.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Bruce replies. You feel Selina pull away and he gently flips your positions so that you’re now laying on the bed with him on top. He presses his lips against yours in a slow and sweet kiss. You sigh into the kiss as your hands come up to cup his face.

He pulls away sooner than you would like for him to, resting on his knees as he gets you to wrap your hips around him and he lines his cock up with your entrance. You gasp and your back arches as his cock starts to push inside of you. That delicious stretch as your body accommodates his large size has your fingers gripping the bedsheets. He bottoms out inside of you and stills for a moment. 

Selina kisses you before settling her legs either side of your head, facing Bruce. Her pussy is absolutely dripping with need, her clitoris red and engorged, poking out from beneath its hood. You swallow thickly at the sight, your cunt squeezing around Bruce’s cock, drawing a deep groan from him. You have to taste her. As you tug her down to get her to sit on your face, Selina laughs.

 “Always so eager to please,” she purrs, already gently rolling her hips. 

You answer her by wrapping your lips around her clitoris and sucking, drawing a moan from her. Pleased, you release her clit and lap up her arousal, groaning at her taste. 

Your groan quickly turns into a moan as Bruce slowly pulls out before roughly thrusting back into you. He sets a steady pace, each thrust making you moan against her pussy. You’re still so sensitive from your previous orgasm you can feel the pleasure quickly building up inside of you. Your nails dig into Selina’s muscular thighs in attempt to try and ground yourself.

Though you can’t see either of them right now, you know that they are kissing. Their moans and groans are muffled and his pace has slowed, letting the pleasure that's been building up inside of you slowly fizzle out.

As you roll your hips, looking for some friction and trying to get him to move faster again, you push three of your fingers inside of Selina and wrap your lips around her clit again. You know when you have found that sweet spot deep inside of her by the way that she suddenly gasps your name and her body squeezes your fingers while her thighs squeeze the side of your head. Her nails scrape against your skin and she rides your face more insistently, chasing after her high.

Bruce’s pace slows down even more. He drags his cock against the walls of your cunt, making sure you can feel every last vein, as he watches Selina fall apart thanks to your deft tongue and fingers. Her mouth drops open as she cries your name and her entire body shakes as her orgasm crashes into her. The sight is almost enough to have him cumming right there. She rolls off of your face, collapsing against the mattress as she breathes heavily.

He sees his chance and moves forward. Your mouth and chin are covered in her release. He can’t help himself. He licks a stripe from your chin to the tip of your nose, groaning softly at the tangy taste. You giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss and happily letting him push his tongue into your mouth. 

As the two of you kiss, Bruce starts to move again. This time faster and a little bit harder than before. Each thrust has you moaning wantonly as your nails start to dig into his back. The springs of the mattress creak with each thrust and his head comes to rest in the crook of your neck.

Slender fingers surprise you as they press against your overly sensitive clitoris and start to rub tight circles against it. You’re sure that you must be drawing blood as the grip you have on him tightens the closer you get to your climax. Pleasure is thrumming through every inch of you and you know he’s as close as you are. His thrusts are growing sloppy and his usually grunts and groans are turning into moans of your name.

“Come on, baby. Let go.” 

You have no idea which one of you Selina is actually talking to. Perhaps both of you? In the end it doesn’t really matter. You get there first, your body locking up and squeezing his cock as the edges of your vision turn fuzzy and all you can hear is your heart thumping away in your ears. Bruce falls straight over the edge with you, the squeezing of your cunt too much for him, and he buries himself as deep as he can, as he fills your pussy with his cum.

By the time you come back to your senses, Bruce has already pulled out of you and is cleaning you up, while Selina has your head resting in her lap and is gently stroking your hair. The feeling of the damp washcloth coming in contact with your pussy has a sharp gasp leaving you as you realise just how sore you are down there. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs before pressing a kiss to your knee. “Got a bath running for you. Should help with your discomfort.” 

“And I’ve ordered takeout from your favourite place,” Selina says. “You must be starving.”

“Sounds good,” you reply. She’s not wrong, you are hungry, and food from your favourite place sounds absolutely divine.

Your orgasms have left you completely boneless and exhausted, but it’s the good type of exhausted. One where you feel so content with your life and loved by the two people that you love most in this world. It also leaves you pliable and easy for Bruce to manhandle as he lifts you from the bed. You curl into his embrace, snuggling against his body, which has him chuckling. As he carries you toward the en-suite, you find yourself desperately fighting to keep your eyelids open as sleep tries to claim you.

The feeling of hot water washing over your body doesn’t help. It’s a battle the entire time to keep yourself awake. One that both Bruce and Selina seem to find amusing.

It’s only after your bath and your food has arrived that you wake up a little bit more. The smell of the food making your stomach growl and your mouth water as your body decides that eating right now is way more important than trying to get some sleep.

Once you’re full, you have no issues with falling fast asleep. Especially when you’re finally tucked in bed with both of Bruce and Selina’s bodies pressed against your own.