Jason Todd... loves to evaluate books with you. The two of you even have a tiny book club where you choose a book to read and by the end of each month you both have a deep discussion about it.
Jason Todd... is extremely affectionate with you and slightly clingy. When he's tired at night and you're doing things, he'll wrap his arms around your waist and bury his head into your shoulder.
Jason Todd... always wants to get burgers with you because he is complete fatass.
Jason Todd... enjoys when you're bold and actually make the first move because it really shows that your love for him is real.
Jason Todd... finds it funny when you tease him about anything and pretends to pout whenever you make a really good remark.
Jason Todd, who always has a hand on you when you’re out in public. Whether it be actually holding your hand, having an arm around your shoulder or waist, or a hand gently pressed to your lower back. It grounds him, reminds him that he’s still there- in the present moment with you. It’s a physical confirmation that you’re safe and that he’s there to protect you, always. No matter where you are or what you’re doing. You don’t mind because it makes you feel safe, feel loved. Dating Jason Todd means dealing with all sides of him, including the protective one such as this. And you love every second of it. You wouldn’t give it up for the world. So, everytime without fail, you lean into his touch and smile up at him with the brightness of a thousand suns before giving him a quick peck on the cheek as a ‘thank you’ for always being there to look out for you. No matter what.
── (18+) in which big strong redhood makes you choke him during sex! ꨄ︎ ; unprotected p in v, breathplay, cowgirl position, praise, pet names (baby)
JASON TODD who insists you choke him during sex.
it happened accidentally— your hand resting against his throat while riding him, pressing down a little too hard against the hot, flushed skin, and not noticing until he suddenly spoke up.
"you fuckin' choking me?" he makes a noise between a scoff and a groan, voice low and gravely, breaking you out of your pleasure induced trance. your hand flies away like you've been burned, your hips faltering in their desperate bouncing movement on his cock. "ohgod–" your eyes widen, "jay- m'so sorry baby" you rake your eyes over his body for any sign of discomfort, did you hurt him? is he okay? did he--
"i didn't say stop."
it catches you off-guard, that gruff voice telling you to do something to him rather than the other way around. his large, calloused palms meet the fat of your hips, directing your movements so that his cock starts plunging in and out of your sopping cunt once again. he's amused, watching your brows furrow softly in confusion and pleasure, a shit eating grin plastered on his face.
"cmon, baby" he gives your ass a slap, enough to have your velvet heat fluttering around him. "you're not dumb, are you?" he speaks so casually, taking entertainment in the way you can't decide what to do. you shake your head hesistantly, earning a low, soft chuckle from him. "yeah, you're a smart girl..." he trails off, taking your hands in his and bringing them to rest against his neck. "just press down, s'all you gotta do" he reassures you, practically cooing at you to strangle him.
and what can you do when he's looking at you like that-- eyes half-lidded, lips kiss-swollen and bitten, his face tinted a pretty pink, expression one of pure hunger, except for wrap your fingers around his throat and squeeze.
the smirk on his face falters, his face twisting in pleasure when you start bouncing on his dick again, lewd plap plap plap! sounds filling the room, your hands around his neck an added stimulation. you tighten your fingers where they rest around his throat, feeling the muscle and tendons underneath his skin. the hitch of his breath as that pressure increases.
"there ya' go" he wheezes out a string of praises, what's left of his breath fanning over your hot skin. his cock is practically impaling you, your orgasm building unusually quick low in in your tummy at the sight of him. the veins are popping on his forehead, skin a deep, beet red from the blood flooding his head.
his eyes are half-lidded, like he's about to pass out. his hips bucking up into your heat speak for him though, he's right where he wants to be.
you could laugh at this if he wasn't so deep that you could feel him in your throat, your big, burly boyfriend being choked by someone nearly half his size. you're barely scratching the surface of "hurting him".
his mind is clouded with arousal, he's so dizzy that all he can focus on is you-- how beautiful you look cutting off his air, and how good you feel wrapped around his shaft, a creamy white base of slick forming at the base of his cock from just how long the two of you have been fucking. how did he get so lucky with a girl like you?
he chokes out a raspy groan when your thumb presses down harder on his airway, the exact thing that sends him over the edge. you cum together, because god, it's hot knowing jason todd is a masochist, that you abusing him is enough for him to cum quicker than he ever has.
"oh fuck--! baby--" his name comes out in a cry, tearing from your throat as your pussy clenches around him, leading you to forget that you're still controlling your boyfriends air intake.
as for jason, he simply cannot make any noise, because of the two hands not allowing him to, except for a low, wheezing groan, while his load inside of you-- hot and sticky pulsing into your womb. he never signals for you to let up though, he wouldn't dare to tap out.
when you finally pull away, you watch him sputter at the sudden abundance of air, clearing his throat and letting that cocky smile take its place back on his face.
there's remnants of your hands— dark purple fingerprints blooming beautifully on the sides of his neck. you wish he could see, because you know he would get hard all over again from the prospect of his girl marking him up.
the bruises almost look like hickeys, something far more vanilla than what he just had you do to him.
he doesn't pull out, simply coaxes you down to rest against his broad chest, pressing soft kisses to your hairline like he's the one who should apologize.
"fuck-- we gotta start doin' that more" he's still catching his breath, chest heaving up and down. you can't exactly tell what he means by "more", if he'll make you choke him, or if he'll choke you.
damian wayne who always finds a reason to touch you.
damian despises pda. he’s too proud and too disciplined to let anyone but you witness him being even slightly soft. however, when the two of you are alone and in the comfort of each other’s presence, every rule he has about showcasing affection fades away.
if he’s handing you something, even a mere water bottle, he’ll extend his arm a fraction more than necessary just to ensure that your fingers brush his during the exchange. the touch is featherlight—so light that it could be excused as a simple accident, but you both know the truth.
in the same way, you could trip over a cable or a loose rug and he’ll place a hand on your waist to steady you, muttering a low, “watch your step, habibti.” even though you don’t need it, his hand will stay for a beat longer, as if reassuring himself that you’re still there and still safe.
if you were to point it out?
“there was simply an eyelash on your face,” after he cradles your cheek with his hand, lightly brushing your skin with his thumb like you’re something that belongs in a highly guarded museum.
“it was blocking your eyesight. it’s a hazard,” when he ever so softly tucks the thinnest, least hazardous strand of hair behind your ear.
of course, he’ll never admit it. whenever you try to tease him about it, he’ll tell you that you’re reading too much into it, but the tips of his ears always tint the faintest red.
it’s not in an obsessive way, like he just has to touch you to show control or stake a claim. instead, it’s as though you have some sort of magnetic pull on him, one he could never resist if he wanted to. a pull that makes him long for the warmth of you, and he can only fulfill that longing with light brushes of skin in private.
yet, somehow, the subtle touches and quick grazes mean more to both of you than any public gesture ever could.
featuring: wally west, tim drake, dick grayson, jason todd
content: smau, established relationship, fem!reader, talks of pregnancy (non-serious), potentially sexual themes ??? this is just crack don't mind me
— wally west
— tim drake
— dick grayson
— jason todd
a/n: baby's first SMAU! this is a prompt that has floated around in my brain for a while and i'm honestly kind of shocked that i've never seen it done before (let me know if u have). all the pictures are from pinterest btw. let me know what u think!
likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3
The money I’d pay to have Jason Todd shirtless, on his stomach with sweatpants hanging low while I straddle his slutty waist and leave hickeys all over his back, and munch on his shoulders like he’s my favourite snack, and mess up his hair with my fingers, and give him neck kisses that would make him groan, and squeeze his biceps because they’re so big—
Jason Todd, who needs you like he needs to breathe- scratch that, he needs you more than he needs to breathe. He genuinely cannot sleep unless you’re by his side, cuddling him or even holding his hand. He struggles to keep from hyperventilating after a rough night of patrol unless you’re right there in front of him, cupping his face and peppering little kisses anywhere you can reach. Crowds make him nervous, he can’t even walk through the city unless you’re in arms reach, where he can pull you to his side in order to keep himself grounded. He searches for you in every single room he enters, even if he knows you won’t be there. Call him cheesy, but he keeps a photo booth strip of the two of you from one of your dates by the pier in his wallet, he pulls it out to look at whenever he needs to calm himself down and you’re not around. Jason needs you so much, it literally hurts, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
AK jason todd being an anxious fidgeter and reader being his personal stress ball…
the cuticles around his nails were destroyed, picked at beyond repair. alongside the burnt scars littering his hands, he’d managed to make a new batch of blood build up. his boot tapped aggressively against damaged concrete, gaze flitting every which way at the lack of stimulation, the indefinite silence taking him in.
“working something out in that head of yours?” you interrupt, startling the fledgling. his fidgeting ceases comically fast, although you can’t tell if it’s due to your distressing materialisation in front of his very eyes or the shame that shook his innermost self at being seen picking at skin.
his lips press together in a tight line. “barely,” he grunts out, averting his gaze from the familiarity of the cot beneath his weight sinking all the more once you find yourself sitting beside him. it’s a subconscious movement when his hand finds yours, pinching the skin between your thumb and index finger.
you can tell his nerves are at an all-time high, already working his bottom lip over and nipping the flesh off. ensuring that jason can see your free hand before moving it, you carefully glide your thumb over the chewed mess of his mouth, pulling the softness from between his teeth. he pauses, inexperienced to your touch.
intimacy of an emotional kind wasn’t his forte, yet here he was, allowing your touch without repercussions, acknowledging how out of his mind he could be. if rubber melted with heat, jason melted with your affections, closeted in the dark where no one could see. ever the gentleman, he cautiously works to pick at his new toy instead: you. his fingertips sear into your sides as he rubs the skin over, up and down, without a stop.
for all the bumps and hard edges of jason todd, you were a slick and smooth surface for him to work on. what he wouldn’t dare to say in i love yous, he did in quiet favours under the shadows.
his hands slide up along your shirt. “you piss me off,” he whispers, though the way he ogles you speaks the opposite.
“i know i do.”
“i’ll hurt you.” his fingers stop just as they glide over your ribs, feeling the caved-in ridges. “i’ll bare it.”
“you shouldn’t have to. not for me.”
“then for who?”
he swallows, finding your logic undeniable. if not him, then who else? his mind could work at it a thousand times over and it would still fail. neither of you had anywhere to run for a safe space, so you’d made each other the spaces you’d missed. this was arkham, thus hell.
okay, so maybe jason likes fucking you at a nice angle. and maybe, for all intents and purposes, that angle ends up being reverse cowgirl — especially when he's in one of those moods. don't get him wrong, jason loves a good doggy or missionary, but you in reverse cowgirl? while he's trying his hardest not to cum inside?
his bicep rests over his eyes, free hand set lazily on your hip for the sake of saying he held onto something the entire time.
"yeah, that's it," he groans, sinking into the mattress. his cockhead presses against that particular spot inside that makes you see stars, each bounce drawing out an embarrassing moan from your lips. "that's my pretty," he praises, breathing hard enough for your to hear. the tremble in his voice lets you know more than enough: he's been holding in the urge to cum for less than a minute, sweating to keep the edge off his voice. fingers barely digging into your skin, he holds your hips down with both hands, stopping your movements. a whine nearly erupts from you.
jason's struggling. he's one good thrust away from cumming inside, your name at his lips in weak pants. "jay?" "just a second, sweetheart." you turn your head to nab a quick glimpse, finding the sweetest closed-eyed and bitten lip expression. his eyebrows are knitted together so perfectly, a mess of sweat at his forehead. he’s trying his hardest for you.
“jason, baby,” you start, chest heaving as you catch your breath, “it’s okay if you cum.” it isn’t like he doesn’t know that, but reassurance gives the man a sense of peace. he squeezes your side and brings you into a slower pace, shuddering with every soft bounce, head thrown back. your thighs are shaking, most likely due to the sudden stop brought back into movement, but jason’s twice - if not thrice - as wrecked beneath you.
his breathing turns erratic, cock jumping at any stimulation when your folds flutter around him. red in the face with an utterly pathetic moan, his hips jolt upwards, mind going blank. you feel it seep between your legs, warm and thick, and he quite literally writhes. the view from behind is delectable, a beautifully arched back whilst he paints your insides, all on display for his eyes.
you're out with jason todd, either decided to go to the mall or out for walk together, and the moment you walk past a bookstore you notice his gaze automatically locking on the books on display and his steps slowing down to better inspect them, trying to be subtle about it but accidentally tugging on your hand that he was holding his by doing so. noticing his obvious interest, you suggest going in.
you stand next to him while he browses the books once inside the store, attentively staring at them and walking very slowly—if anything at all. you also pick up certain books that catch your attention or focus on specific sections that you like, but he seems to intend to check every aisle on the store.
you see his eyes widening as he goes "oh, look what they have" and picks up a book, with a smile showing on his face. he inspects the cover and the back of the book and goes through the pages a few times before turning to you. he tells you about how he's been meaning to read it, what he knows about the book and why he thinks it's interesting, that he's familiar with the author and loves their work and also explains why it is that he likes it so much. he looks adorable rambling to you, his face lighting up as he remembers the details and gesturing with his hands while he explains them to you, it's like all he cares about is talking to you about it rather than the book itself.
it's the same as he keeps going through the rest of the books. he tells you about the books he's read and liked the most and what makes them so good, facts about the making of certain book that he finds interesting, why he hates a specific book or how certain saga fell off after certain book. he makes two steps, stops, picks up a book, remembers all the things he has to tell you about it, keeps walking and then does it again. he gets excited when he sees a new edition of a book he's never seen before or one that he's been looking for, and tells you about the one he owns or which other one he'd like to buy. he picks up a book with a silly drawing on the cover, laughs at it and then he's immediately turning it to you so you can see it and laugh too before putting it back where he found it.
everything that catches his attention at the store, he just has to let you know about. he doesn't need to do it, he could be silent while going through the books, he doesn't have to tell you about his decision to buy certain book or not to, or to tell you anecdotes that seeing a specific book reminded him of, but he'd been meaning to talk about these things with someone, he'd been waiting for the opportunity to show up and it finally has now that he's found someone he trusts enough to tell all these silly things to.
at certain point you stopped paying too much attention to the books for yourself, conforming with walking behind jason and listening to what he has to say instead, but then you hear him saying "look, they have the book you wanted to get", holding it up for you with a soft smile on his face. it seems like the whole time you spent at the bookstore was just a constant reminder of what makes you love jason so much.
you end up walking out of the store with a new book for you, two more for jason and too many feelings for the man who randomly decided to open up to you on a bookstore.
𝜗ৎ this was one of those works that reminds me i don’t actually know english omg i’m sorry if there’s any mistakes,, also i know this probably sucks bc it’s pretty vague so sorry about that too lol
“You look really good right now, ma,” Jason says, nudging your head to the side to have more access to your neck. You laugh softly, tangling your fingers in Jason’s messy head of hair.
“Jay, I literally just woke up,” you mumble, closing your eyes while Jason’s lips kiss up and down the column of your neck. You woke up from your nap to find him cooking dinner.
“Exactly. And you look gorgeous. Is it not evident by the fact that I can’t keep my hands off you? Wanna just fucking eat you,” he says, biting your ear for emphasis, causing you to giggle. You turn to look at him, tugging playfully at his hair.
“Eat me, huh? Is that a promise?” you ask with a smirk.
“Oh, it definitely can be,” Jason smirks back, crashing his lips against yours. He presses you against the kitchen counter, the hard material digging softly into your lower back. You moan in Jason's mouth, holding him close to you. Before Jason can pick you up to put you on the counter, a voice startles the two of you.
“Uhhh, can you not do that here?” Dick says, standing in the doorway, taking a bite of his sandwich. Startled, you jump into Jason's chest for safety. He tightens his arms around you instinctively before letting out a sigh of relief, seeing that it is just Dick. The relief is only momentary for Jason, who shoots dagers at Dick.
“Dude, why the fuck are you in our apartment?” Jason asks. You laugh into Jason's chest at the ridiculousness of the situation.
"Well, I didn't know it was 'our' apartment now. If I knew you had another person here, maybe I would have announced myself," Dick states, walking over to extend his hand towards you. "It seems you know who I am, but I don't know you. I'm Dick," he says, extending a hand towards you. Jason slaps his hand away, but you laugh and shake Dick's hand, introducing yourself.
"I'm Jason's girlfriend," you say with a smile. You had no qualms about Jason not wanting to tell his family about you. His relationship with his family was tumultuous to say the least. You knew how Jason felt about you, and you fully backed his decision not to disclose your relationship to them.
"Wow, you must be doing community service then," Dick jokes, as Jason's face goes red and he shoves Dick.
"Okay, great, you met my lovely girlfriend. Can you now explain why you are in our apartment?!" Jason asks Dick again, raising his voice. You put your hand on his chest, giving him a look. Jason knew you did not like it when he raised his voice, so he took a deep breath.
"Well, Kori and I got into an argument. You're in a relationship now, so you know how that goes. Thought I should give her space to cool off, so I came here," Dick says, scratching at the back of his neck.
“You got kicked out?" you state flatly.
"I mean, that isn't the verbiage I'd use... yes, she kicked me out," he says, dropping his head. You give Jason another look before turning to the oven to check on dinner. Jason huffs as you walk away from him; whatever moment the two of you had long gone.
“For the last time, that still does not answer why you are physically present in my apartment. Why didn't you go to the manor?" Jason asks, crossing his arms.
“Well, your apartment is closer"
“You are full of shit, the manor is closer to Bludhaven”
“Okay! Maybe I wanted to see how my little brother was doing. You don't come around often, and I got to meet your super awesome girlfriend. It is nice to see you happy and not in a constant state of brooding," Dick says quickly.
"He does like to brood," you agree.
"If it isn't too big of a deal, to both of you, I'll sleep here for tonight and be out of your hair in the morning." You can tell Jason's resolve is beginning to crumble. He looks at you for confirmation, hoping to silently communicate with you.
"Jason always makes too much food. You two can set the table for three," you say. Jason nods, accepting your answer, and a big smile overtakes Dick's face. He catches Jason off guard when he wraps an arm around his shoulder.
"Oh, this will be so great. I get to catch up with my lil bro and his super cool girlfriend since they are letting me crash. And, I can tell you every embarrassing story I have about good ole Jaybird," Dick sings. If it were possible, steam would be emitting from Jason's ears.
jason todd cannot let you know how badly he's been crushing on you.
anyone could've guessed it by how he treats you. jason was naturally observant, but when it came to you, there was a difference. he'd steady you at the waist whenever you stumbled over your feet, brushed the hair out of your face when the wind was much too strong, wouldn't complain about your whining when something didn't go your way.
dick had noticed way too early: when commotions rose, he'd be at your side, massaging your shoulders and leading you with a hand at the back of your neck -- like right now, where he stood before you to help tie your sneakers.
"i can tie my shoes myself," you scold, yet the glare jason shoots at you, with the dirty bottom of your shoe rubbing against the knee of his pants, is enough to quiet you down. he's fumbling the strings, big fingers making it difficult to deal with the smaller material.
he finishes quick enough, pausing to look up at your face, and suddenly he feels like a love-struck fool. "you just did your nails," he points out, "no way was i about to let you ruin them when they're pretty." you swallow a lump in your throat, the simplest recognition from his part making your stomach feel in twists.
dick clears his throat, a brow raised.
"tell me, again, about how you guys are not a couple?"
"he's just being friendly," you roll your eyes, attempting to hide the flush that forms on your face once jason squeezes your ankle and pushes your shoe away to stand up.
"friendly? the man looks out for you like no one else." you scoff at the absurdity of his accusation. in reality, it was stupid how neither of you had realised it yet. at your side, with his 6'1 build, jason carried your bag over his shoulder, makeup swatches along his hand, and an embarrassing lip stain that never came off when you tested it on him. anyone would think he was doing the service of a tortured boyfriend brought to the makeup counter by his girl.
you glance at each other and then at dick, trying to hold back that common awkward laughter that bubbled its way up whenever someone asked what you both were because, truly, what were you if not a confused pair of regular friends with regular habits that totally never regularly looked at one another like you'd yearn to dig a home deeply between each other's ribs?
jason sniffles, placing his hand over your shoulder. his nose was red from allergies, something about dust in the air being his worst enemy. "yeah, richard, way to make it weird." his tone holds a silent edge, hinting to back off. dick knows it all too well. jason's been pining for so long that he doesn't notice how badly you'd wish for him too.
synopsis: dick's patrol partner has a confusing run in with ivy. jason's more than willing to help solve the problem. (4.2k)
warnings: SMUT, piv, oral (f), fingering, unprotected sex, sex pollen/aphrodisiacs, rambling dirty talk, praise/degration, jason's a self proclaimed eater, big dick jay, probably more idk, proofread in theory
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
you practically barrelled through the doors of the batcave under dicks arm, wasting zero time in taking your tactical gear off and heaving into the air, out of breath and sweating through every layer you had on.
damian, who'd been out with jason on patrol at the other end of the city came in through the in-manor entrance, smoothie in had with a scowl of disgust on his face.
"you look awful." he muttered, eyeing you as dick set you on a table in the med bay.
you merely growled under your breath, too overwhelmed to give what would've been a typical response.
dick glared at his youngest brother, helping you get down to the tank and protective shorts you wore under your suit.
"helpful. can you get tim, please?" he urged, waving around the room at damian while he took a slow, deliberate sip of his smoothie.
you were gonna kill him. as soon as you stopped feeling like you were on your own deathbed.
before damian could respond, you latched a hand onto dick's arm and stared at him through your lashes with a weak look.
"i need to throw up" you tried, and his face flushed, rushing to get the garbage can to you before you took a star out of your hair and threw it at him, you accuracy still good enough to land right in front of his feet.
"no.. bathroom, i need-" you paused, head spinning momentarily from the heat that seemingly came right from your bones.
"need to make myself puke. get it out" you mumbled, trying to ease yourself off the table and missing the edge entirely with your hand.
dick rushed to keep you in place, forcing you to sit back, deeply considering latching the wrist restraints.
"nothing ivy would've done to you is coming out from puking it up, we need to figure out what it is first" he grabbed your hand, trying to get you to make eye contact.
finally, he had realized that damian hadn't moved.
"i told you to go get tim!" he stressed, and damian crossed his arms with a low scowl.
"he's still in chinatown stopping a hostage robbery with father. they wont return for some time." he stated, setting his drink down.
"great! so there are no adults around-" you started, groaning in pain when a flash of heat settled deep in your stomach, your legs tensing and your chest falling to your knees in agony.
dick wanted to take that to heart, but he really didn't have time, so he settled for a pinch of his nose and a shake of his head.
"we need a blood sample, go get the vials." he directed, a small smirk on damian's face when your head whipped up.
"no, no! absolutely not, last time he drew my blood he took extra to do some freak testing on me-" you shouted, shaking your head rapidly and gripping onto dick's arm.
he took a deep breath through his nose, waving damian towards the med supplied regardless, trying to soothe you with a hand on your knee. " he promises not to do that again. we need to test you, sweetheart."
you groaned in response, glaring towards the boy when he came back gloved and with vials and alcohol wipes, begrudgingly holding your arm out for him.
he smiled sarcastically, face immediately dropping as he wiped the alcohol pad along the inside of your elbow and gripped above it, giving you a quick look to make sure you were ready as he slid the needle into your vein.
jason came into the cave just as damian pulled the needle back out of you, two fingers on your skin to keep pressure on the site so you didn't get blood all over the place
"jesus. you look like shit." he mused, your head slowly lifting to make eye contact with him. if looks could kill.
he trotted over as damian left with the sample, gripping your jaw in his fingers to assess you.
dilated pupils, dripping sweat, flushed on every inch of exposed skin, breathing like you'd just run a marathon, and mouth dry like you were dying of thirst.
"what happened to her?" he asked, shooting a glare to dick as if it was his fault.
he only sighed, jaw tensing. "i was getting down from the fire escape while she was fighting ivy. she grabbed her by the throat and fucking kissed her" he explained. gesturing at your disheveled form and the light fingerprints against your neck
"so you were doing fuckin' somersaults off a building while your patrol partner got eco roofied. great going, dickhead." he gruffed out, rolling his eyes.
that spiralled into an argument, like it always does, and so they were both too busy to notice you oggling jason.
he was still dripping water from his shower, hair damp and messy. he was shirtless and only in a pair of loose shorts that hung so low on his hips you could feel your mouth watering at his happy trail leading into the waistband.
and it was jason, so, no matter how loose the short, they still found a way to cling to the muscles of his thighs.
you only snapped out of it when damian peaked around the corner looking utterly grossed out, and called for his brothers.
jason huffed, spiwing under your jaw affectionately with one finger before turning to damian. "we'll be right back, princess." was all you heard before all three of them left your line of sight.
damian cleared his throat as they all approached the computer, bringing up the results from your blood sample on the screen. jasons lips parted in realization when he read the words.
unbearable levels of maca root. like, so high he was shocked you stayed upright long enough to have your blood taken.
dick didn't seem to get what it was, so damian moved over to the page he'd pulled up on the plant, allowing him to read.
a plant used to boost libido and energy. at this dose, with dizzying blood pressure changes, headaches and stomach pain. accompany that with ivy's tantalizing pheromone production, and you had a concoction that could send your heart into dysfunction.
damian cleared his throat once more, standing square in front of jason and dick with an uncomfortable scowl.
"this seems like an issue best handled by.. one of you two. i will see myself out." he nodded, cheeks a little flushed, before walking out of the cave and off into the manor to put on some headphones and the loudest music he could tolerate.
the remaining brothers stared at each other, dumbfounded and unable to come to any ideas on what to say to you.
"maybe we could bring her to the bar, or something? one night stand type deal?" dick suggested, and jason raised an eyebrow at him like he was a moron.
"she looks like a fucking tweaker off cherry hill, dick. nobody's tapping that." he whisper-shouted, moving an arm out towards the med bay, to the bed you were no longer on.
they both twisted their heads to the side, letting out a synched "shit." at the realization that you'd moved.
they both scattered to the room, only to find you curled up in a corner, face pressed to the cool metal of the supply locker. you only backed in further when they approached you, dick kneeling at your side while jason stood awkwardly with his arms crossed.
"we found out whats wrong.." dick started, and your eyes lit up with hope for a moment before you took in their expressions. jason scratched the back of his neck, staring at the ground. dick refused to make eye contact.
"okay... what is it?" you asked, voice weak from exhaustion even though there was this lighting coursing through you that you couldn't even begin to explain
jason looked up first, sighing. "it's a very, very strong aphrodisiac. meant to make you uncomfortably and insatiably needy until, well... someone fixes it." he explained, sniffling casually after in an attempt to pretend this was a regular conversation.
dick continued. "you could theoretically wait it out... a cold room and a lot of water, we'd keep track of your blood pressure and run you an iv, just to be safe, but-" he paused, clearing his throat
"but there's no telling how long it'll take get better. so it's easier if i just get laid." you finished the sentence for him, and he nodded slightly, pursing his lips together.
you hid your face in your hands, a tear leaking from your inner corner and sliding down your cheek.
"i'm in too much pain to wait it out, dick, i can't-"
"it's alright," jason interrupted you.
"if you've got someone you can call, or if-" he licked his lips. "if you want one of us to help, we can." he nodded, stoic, like this was a mission he had to complete and not the question of if one of your co-workers, friends, was gonna have to fuck you tonight.
"i don't have anyone." you whispered, a little embarrassed.
you took a minute to think, long enough to the point both boys thought you might be trying to save their ego.
"listen, ma. you and dick are close, you'll be comfortable with h-"
"no." you shook your head, interrupting with the loudest tone you'd mustered all night.
dick's eyebrows shot up a little, and jason's jaw tensed awkwardly.
"no?" he tried, shifting his weight onto one leg before kneeling onto it, cupping your face.
you looked at dick, a small smirk tugging at his lips. and when you felt better, you'd slap his smug fucking face for choosing now as the time to give you the 'i knew it!' look in front of the boy you'd been crushing on since you were seventeen.
but then you looked at jason, and your flush of embarrassment melted into more need, more than you already had, which was already more than you could handle.
"please, jay." you tried, grabbing his wrist where it was below your jaw.
he gazed over to dick quickly, but nodded at you. "of course, princess. i got you." he reassured, and dick stood.
"i'll warn tim and bruce not to come in through the cave entrance." he nodded, walking off.
jason licked his lips, getting you to look him in the eye again.
“you’re sure, yeah? this feels- i don’t want to take advantage of you, ma. you’re feeling a lot of shit right now” he furrowed his eyebrows, eyes soft on yours to try and get an honest answer out of you.
“jay, please,” you tried, reaching out for his face.
the last thing you wanted on top of the embarrassment of him seeing you like this was to have to admit how badly you wanted him- drugged or not, while you were a weeping mess.
he nodded stiffly, sitting down next to you and guiding you into his lap, dry, calloused hands carding through your sweat-damp hair before he pressed his lips to yours.
you sobbed into his mouth. relief washing over you just barely at the contact, but enough to subside the delirium inducing nausea.
you tried to push your face closer to his, but he gripped the bottom of your skull softly, keeping you in place.
his tongue prodded between your lips, and you swore you felt your body cool down 5 degrees. he hummed into you, tongue swiping the back of your teeth in a way that made your legs squeeze together in his lap.
you reached for one of his wrists, weakly guiding his hand to your thighs, pulling back from his kisses to give him a pleading look.
“you tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?” he squeezed your thigh, and you nodded desperately, parting your legs for him when he tapped the side of your leg.
he cupped your mound through your shorts, lips getting back to work down your jaw, to your neck. he nipped and licked at the exposed skin, moaning against you at the salty taste of your sweat.
one arm linked around your waist, pulling you up off his lap slightly so the other could tug your shorts down, leaving you in a dainty pair of cotton underwear, soaked through and sticking uncomfortably to your already oversensitive skin.
his kisses and bites only subsided when he slid his hand down the front of them, middle finger finding your clit with practiced ease.
he rubbed light circles, fighting the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth when you whined and your legs immediately clamped around his forearm.
“relax, princess. open up f’me” he murmured into your hairline, gaze piercing down to where your panties had shifted to the side.
you were glistening, the insides of your thighs stained with your own arousal, your folds puffy, and your clit so swollen every touch made you want to jolt.
“this okay?” he asked, eyes lifting to your face again for a brief moment to make sure you were okay.
you nodded eagerly, and jason nodded slowly with you, maintaining eye contact when you looked up at him to express your honesty.
your lips parted when he slid a finger down to collect some of the building moisture, using it as slip against your nub.
“there we go, sweetheart. that’s it” he cooed, kissing the corner of your mouth when your eyebrows furrowed and you gasped.
your hand reached for his forearm, scratching lightly at it to keep it in place, the stimulation distracting you from the heat in your bones.
“more” you cried, curling your head into the crook of his neck to hide the desperation, like it would help.
he hummed in response, pressing quick kisses to your forehead as he shifted his hand, middle and ring finger pushing into you gently while his thumb replaced the attention on your clit.
you moaned into his skin, nails out and digging into the skin of his wrist when he curled his fingers upwards and brushed your walls.
“jay- nh, jason” you tried, gripping his forearm tighter while he shushed you.
“i got you, baby, it’s okay.” he purred, biting his lip to keep from groaning when your slick started to stain the palm of his hand.
he used his free hand to grip your jaw, forcing your head up to smash his lips into yours once more, your cries muffled into his mouth while tears caught on your inner corners.
your thighs started to close in again, trembling softly while you neared your peak.
“haah, jay-“ you tried, babbling into his mouth, spit smearing against it.
“i know, princess. i know. ive got you” he reassured, gruff voice taking such a soft tone you felt your heart throb in your chest.
you buried your face back into his skin, teeth baring and digging into the muscle of his shoulder when you reached your peak, muffled sobs echoing in the space between your bodies, his fingers slowing to a stop as he worked you down from your high.
“there we go, baby. better?” he hummed, not giving you any time to answer before he slid his fingers between his lips to lick them clean.
your eyes blew wide at the sight. “mhm, better, jay. but i-“ you whimpered, trying to get the point across without directly telling him.
“you need more, ma. i know. had to work you open for me, yeah?” he cooed, cradling your face to press a quick kiss to your lips, then the tip of your nose.
you furrowed your eyebrows, and he couldn’t hide his grin.
he adjusted your thighs so they wrapped around his waist, picking you up and placing you back on the med table.
“what? nobody ever get you ready before? what kind of losers have you been letting have you like this, huh?” he asked. it was almost mocking, and you gasped into the side of his hand, the tone making a new pool of need drip into your underwear
you only shook your head in response, not bothering to answer the second question- he’d already answered it. they were losers. ones you were using to try and get over him, at that.
“don’t tell me.. nobody’s ever tasted this perfect cunt before, hm? they thought they were above that? just fucked you like a sleeve?” he licked his lips. your thigh twitched around his waist.
you didn’t respond. you gaped at him.
“you know, i saw you come home from dates. heard you tell dick how bad they were. saw how tense you were all the damn time” his eyes raked down your body. he lifted your shirt up over your tits and smirked softly.
you only moaned at the cool air on your nipples, eyes boring into his, begging him to do something.
“it didn’t take much to figure out that nobody had ever fucked you how you deserve.” he sighed, almost a little angry at the fact that nobody had cherished you like he wanted to. that you were stuck with selfish fucks and fake orgasms.
“but that’s okay…” he cooed, head moving down to let his mouth latch onto your chest, tongue lapping at your nipple.
he moved his head slowly up your neck, nipping behind your ear before pulling your body closer, straining hard on pressing right into your inner thigh.
“cause i’m gonna ruin you for anyone else. and i will gladly be the first to show you what it feels like to be taken care of properly” he mumbled, lips planting themselves on your cheek before he stared you down like prey.
“jay-“ you cried, so desperate for him to turn his words to reality.
he was quick to move back, ridding of his shorts, cock immediately springing up and slapping his lower tummy, a groan slipping from his lips.
you leaned back on your elbows, gaze transfixed on him.
pink and weeping at the tip. a generous length you could handle, but with a girth that you worried would break you open. one vein down the bottom that throbbed when this small, needy sound came from the back of your throat unwarranted.
without even registering your movement, you sat back up and reached out for him, immediately having your wrists gripped and pinned back to the table on either side of you.
without a word jason’s mouth was on yours again, your tongue immediately pushing into him with need, a wicked smile meeting your swollen lips.
then he adjusted your hips on the table, hand caressing your lower back, and he pressed the tip of his cock into your entrance.
you sobbed into his mouth. two fingers not nearly enough to help you gauge how much of him there was as he pressed into you.
“jason!” you cried, hand pressing against his hip as you stared up at him, jaw hanging open.
“shhh, baby. i got you” he nodded slowly, the hand not on your back cupping your face delicately as he pushed further
“biiiig stretch, ma. m’ right here” he cooed, burying himself to the hilt. a moan died on your tongue, coming out in this choked, needy whine that made him throb inside you.
he grabbed your hand from his hip, thumb brushing along your knuckles, a litter of kisses following.
then he lead you onto your back, setting your hand down to adjust your legs so your thighs were parallel to his chest, and your ankles were up on his shoulders.
then he leaned down. pressing your own legs to your chest without moving his hips an inch.
“atta girl,” he groaned, backing his hips up ever so slightly and jutting back in, eyes hooded as he watched your face contort in pleasure.
“jesus fuck- jason” you moaned, tangling your fingers in his hair.
the burn in your thighs was only an addicting twinge on top of the pleasure of him nestled inside you.
“can barely fuckin move, princess. poor pussy doesn’t want me to leave her” he chided, rolling forward with a focused tension in his brows.
“so fuckin- damn, ma. so fuckin’ tight around me, feels like heav-“ he choked out the end of his sentence when you clenched around him, crying out his name and tugged at the curls by the nape of his neck.
he found his rhythm, hips slapping against the backs of your thighs. he shoved his face into the crook of your neck, leaving sloppy, wet kisses along your pulse point.
you felt his teeth scratch at the skin before he sucked a sweet mark, his hands roaming down to the tops of your thighs to squeeze lovingly at the soft flesh there.
“this is how a good fuck is supposed to feel, yeah?” he babbled, nipping at your jaw.
“can’t fuckin’ shut you up, the prettiest damn noises i’ve ever heard” he groaned, leaning his head back to watch the tears gather in the corners of your eyes.
“mh, jason-“ you whined, but he was so lost he couldn’t stop blabbing.
“feel so fuckin good around me, baby. never letting you go. nobody else gets to have this.” he pressed your thighs even closer to your chest, the tip of his cock prodding at a spot inside you that made your vision go white.
you cried out, nails digging into the backs of his shoulders cause all you could do was grip onto him for dear life.
“ohhh..” he smirked. “right there, huh? that feels good?” he asked, sweet, sweet tone dripping with condescension
you nodded eagerly, trying to pull his back closer to you, needing to feel him everywhere.
“so fuckin pretty like this, ma.” he licked his lips.
“poor things never been taken proper care of… must’ve been so pent up, yeah?” he asked, tilting his head to the side mockingly.
“jay- nh. jason, jace,” you babbled, eyes falling shut, tears finally dripping down your your cheeks.
“that’s it, sweetheart. can feel you squeezing me. gonna come on my cock?” he wiped the tears from your face with his thumb, cradling the bottom of your skull to get you to open your eyes.
“mmmhm! yes, can i-“ you tried, voice giving up on you when his fingers found your clit again.
“of course you can, sweet thing. give it to me, hm? come on,” he urged, one hand working to keep your legs stable so you didn’t accidentally push him out of you.
they still shook in his grip, your head craning back with a soft mewl. your back lifted off the bed slightly when you came, gripping at his hair to bring him closer to you.
“there she is.. there we go, good girl” he cooed, hips still rolling into you slowly, thumb slowing to a stop.
you cried in overstimulation when your orgasm faded and he was still moving with fever.
he shushed you softly, giving you a few slow, sloppy kisses as he felt you near your end again.
“hold on for me, ma. you can wait, can’t you?” he purred, earning an eager nod and a bite into his shoulder once more, a feeble attempt at muffling your sobs.
his hips slowed, and he perched himself as deep as he could get. you felt the heat of him finishing inside you, sweet ropes of come painting your walls while he groaned into your ear.
he pulled back with an obscene, slick pop, keeping your legs pressed to your chest with one arm while he knelt to the floor and licked a stripe up your cunt.
you squealed, fighting against his grip momentarily before his tongue prodded gently into your pussy, and he lapped at your mixed spend with a moan.
your body relaxed slightly, back still arched up and legs beginning to tremble again.
his nose brushed your clit with a particularly greedy swipe of his tongue through your folds, and you went dead silent.
your vision blacked when you came again, body writhing off the table with only his arm for stability. when you came to, all you could do was whine pathetically, chest heaving when jason came back up to press a kiss to your lips.
“there we go, baby. that’s it. breathe,” he soothed, adjusting your body so you were laid more comfortably on the bed.
he turned to grab a cloth from the med cabinet, dampening it with cool water before he swiped it along your inner thighs with precise gentleness.
you twitched when the cloth came in contact with your clit, and he shushed you softly.
“s’alright, sweetheart. gotta clean you up, okay?” he whispered, kissing the top of your head as you nodded.
when he went to walk off to get you some clothes, a promise of his ensuite bath upstairs waiting to sooth the ache in your bones, you called his name.
he turned, humming sweetly at you.
“how long have you known?” you asked, whisper quiet. he smiled.
SYNOPSIS: "I'm so fucking sorry." He says into her shoulder. "I'm sorry, baby. I fucked up. I'm fucked up, it's my fault." His grip tightens and there's a weird cognitive dissonance at war in his head.
She feels so good against him, like home and fresh air, and Jason finally feels like he can breathe again. The other part of him scorns him for thinking he had any claim to this in the first place, rages about being cracked with too many fissures to ever truly keep himself together.
MASTERLIST
A/N: The must requested part two, one of my fav fics I've ever written
It's the smell of antiseptic that ends up rousing her.
The first thing she notes is how her entire body aches like it's never hurt before. Her head is pounding, but it's a muted sort of pain that she can ignore if she doesn't think about. She shifts in place with a small groan, and there's a sudden noise at her side that prompts her to slowly blink awake.
Jason is sat next to her, chair dragged right up against her cot in...in the cave? He looks haggard, hair a mess like he's been running his hands through it for ages, worry tensing his muscles.
"What?" She mumbles, trying to sit up.
"Don't." A warm hand presses her back down. "You need to rest." Too exhausted to argue, she lays back down. The heel of her palm presses against he temple as she tries to get her bearing and remember what the hell happened. She peers down to find she's not dressed in her usual clothes, but something more comfy and loose, a shirt she recognises as Jason's. She's certain she wasn't wearing that before, and she would've noticed because the first thing she did when she got home was try and take it off to get a sample of whatever-...
Jason can tell the minute she snaps back into it, because her body immediately tenses and her eyes find his, lined with a hint of disbelief and so much hurt in makes him grip the headboard of her cot in a white knuckled grip.
"It wasn't me." She says. "I didn't take anything on purpose. I wouldn't do that to myself. To you."
He clenches, unclenches his jaw. Cannot quite meet her eyes when he speaks. "I know. I saw. When I was on patrol."
The words settle over them like a cold blanket, pushing against the dam that's been building up since the minute he stormed out of their home.
"You know." She repeats slowly.
"I shouldn't have left." He sits back down in the chair, hand carding through his hair. "I just...I freaked out and-"
"I needed you. I needed you, and you walked away..." Her voice cracks, and Jason feels it like a physical blow in his gut. His jaw clenches, eyes cast down as he wrestles with his own head.
Something cold squeezes his heart, the fear of losing her, of losing this stunning him in place. Inhaling sharply, he forces his eyes up to look at her. "I'm here now." "I'm not leaving you again." Jason swallows. "I'm sorry-" He says hoarsely, reaching out to grab her hand.
It disappears under the covers before he can touch her.
"I think I want to be alone." She whispers, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
"I'm here." He repeats over the thick lump of hurt in his throat. Jason knows he doesn't deserve to push, does not deserve to take the place by her bedside when he abandoned her so hot-headedly. She has always been light and warmth and softness, while he was forged out of rough lines and sharp edges.
"For how long this time?" Her voice sounds exhausted, like she's giving up on a battle she hadn't wanted to fight in the first place.
He swallows, feels heat burn the back of his eyes with shame. Because that's exactly what it is. Shameful. How many nights had they spent tangled together where he'd run his fingers through her hair, pressing his lips down her throat and murmuring the promise that she'd always be safe with him into her skin?
"Let me explain." He says, a little too quickly, a touch too desperate to get his words out. "Please." And as soon as the words are out he realises how fucking hypocritical he sounds. It's why they're in this situation in the first place, because he was the one that was too thick headed to let her explain herself before.
She seems to realise it too, because her expression pinches and both of them fall to a beat of miserable silence. What would he even say? That he froze and panicked and fell back into assuming the worst with anger as a crutch to deal? It didn't seem enough, and it sounds so stupid in his head that he visibly struggles to put it into words palatable enough to not get him socked in the jaw.
"Oh, you're up." A voice from the entrance to the cave interrupts him before he can try and speak. Both of them turn to look at Tim, who slowly makes his way towards them with silent footsteps. He looks between the two for a moment, and Jason is struck with the thought that he's assessing the situation before he changes anything about it.
Tim's eyes narrow ever so slightly when he spots her closed off body language and the desperation in the lines of his brother's shoulders. Making himself stand a little straighter, he doesn't really say anything until he's at the other side of her medical cot. "Thought I'd bring you your next dose." He taps the clear glass bottle in his hand, messing with the IV drip idly. "I should swap this out for a new bag of fluids too." He speaking half to himself.
She doesn't reply, just nods tightly. The atmosphere is still charged with hurt and unsaid words, and Jason wants his brother to leave again so he can try and fix this.
"Bruce is looking for you upstairs." Tim says to him suddenly, pushing a syringe into the vial. "Dick wants an update on her condition too, do you mind?" He casts Jason a glance.
"Do it yourself." Jason furrows his brows.
"He asked for you." He's surprised when Tim pushes back, then turns to her instead with a small, apologetic smile. "And the medication is going to make you a little groggy, so you'll probably drift off in a bit."
She feels like she got hit by a truck, so complaints there.
"I'll stay here. You can come back when she wakes up." He tells Jason, finishing up pushing the medicine through. There's something about his tone that's a little off, and it raises Jason's hackles a little. Why the hell would he leave now? He has no intention of ever doing anything remotely similar to-...
Jason's thoughts screech to a halt at the subtle, grateful look she casts his brother's way.
Oh.
The fight drains out of him all at once. One shaky inhale later, he's nodding and pushing himself to his feet, his feet carrying him quicker than usual to the stairs that lead up and out.
In his absence, the pressure pushing down on her chest lightens up a little bit, and it makes her feel a little guilty, but if she had to keep having this conversation with Jason now then something in her would crack. What do you even do in this situation? She'd never once thought he'd act like that, so...so angry at her. So unwilling to listen and believe her. To give her a chance.
The click of a new fluid bag being adjusted to stand snaps her out of it, and suddenly she's grateful for Tim. They've always been fast friends, and she's known him longer than she's known Jason.
"Thanks." She whispers, squeezing her eyes shut to fight against the prickle of tears.
"Yeah, of course." He replies easily, though the smile he casts her is sad. "You know he really-"
"I know, Tim." She squeezes her eyes shut. "I know why he did it. Can we just...can we not?"
The responding, slow exhale is enough of an answer.
When she feels around blindly, Tim lets her clutch onto his arm, her knuckles white. He takes a seat at the edge of her cot when the first hiccup breaks the dam of quiet tears. A warm hand lands over hers.
He stays with her in silent solidarity, soft cries echoing off the walls off the cave.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Jason forgot how loneliness slowly eats away at the heart. He hasn't had to feel it in years, ever since they got together, but now? Now it aches whenever he goes back to the safehouse he's camping out in, to be met with cold walls and empty rooms. He feels it prickling in his chest when he scrolls through their old messages whenever he can't fall asleep. In the simple way he instinctively goes to look for her when he's forgotten she isn't there. She hasn't been for five days now.
Jason is trying to give her the space she asked for the last time they talked in the manor. He's holding himself back from texting and calling, from going home just to see her and assure himself she's still there. He's trying so fucking hard and it's killing him on the inside because he doesn't know when it'll end.
If it'll end.
He sent flowers to their doorstep once, and occasionally orders food to be delivered. No note, no name, but she'd know who it was all from. No text had come in to acknowledge it, but at least he feels like he's doing something to take care of her, even if he can't see her in person.
Normally Jason wouldn't be this cautious. He's not the type to tread lightly, but every time the thought of going back and pushing himself inside their home to explain- to plead and demand and apologise until she understood, the waver in her voice when she asked him to leave her alone to think for a few days haunts him, freezes him into place. He doesn't want to fuck this up. Jason wants to keep what they have so badly that he's willing to go a period without it if there's a slight chance that she'll forgive him.
Jason breaks on the sixth night away.
Deep in his bones there is a right debilitating fright gripping his by the throat when he wakes up thrashing so hard from a nightmare he'd banged his elbow on the nightstand hard enough to bruise. His heart is racing, pounding so hard it hurts, palms sweaty and breathing too short to be normal. He's not new to waking up like this, but he's never dreamt of this before.
He's never seen he hollow eyes and cold body spawled over the floor, a scenario where he really was too late that day. Jason has never had to reckon with the vision of her so cold and still, dirty needles and white powder scattered around her like a taunt that'd only hit him where it hurts most.
His hands shake as he presses them against his face, trying to will down the rising panic and take a deep breath. It's not working, not when it's still dark enough outside for the black to hold onto his worst fears. It's been so long since he's had to go through an episode like this alone, without soothing hands running up and down his back, a soft voice in his ear talking him through it.
The phone is pressed to his ear before he can stop it, the need to hear her voice to confirm she's alive taking over all the restraint he had had. She was alive, she had to be. It wasn't real, it wasn't real. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registers that it's too late in the night for any sane person to be awake
He calls again, and again, and again.
Somewhere in the distance he swears he can hear laughing.
"Hello?" The soft sound, a tired voice through the phone - it hits him hard. Jason shudders an exhale out in relief, hunching over and trying to calm himself down. "...Jason?" She says after a moments hesitation.
"Hey." Is all he can say, He wants to curse himself for how weak and broken it sounds. "You were asleep."
A beat of silence. The rustle of sheets on the other side.
"Well. It's 3:20 in the morning." A touch of concern.
"Yeah." He presses his forehead to his knees. "I just needed to...to hear you." His voice breaks.
"Where are you?" And fuck, hearing her voice makes him ache, makes the anger at himself, the loneliness of the past few days fester until it's near unbearable.
He zoned out and she's still talking, he realises with a start.
"-okay? Tell me where you are."
"The apartment on 5th." He says, willing the tightness in his chest to loosen all the way. "Go back to sleep. Thanks. For picking up." He adds at the end, finally coming down as the knot in his chest loosens. Jason takes in a deep, shaky breath and ends the call before he does something stupid like grab his keys or use his front door.
There's no way he's going back to sleep now, not when there's a chance of seeing...that again. His heart is still erratic, so he leans back against the headboard and closes his eyes, willing himself to try himself under control.
Maybe it's been an hour, but sometime around then, the telltale sounds of footsteps outside his door and the jingle of keys fitting into the lock have him sitting straight up. The sheets pool around his hips, hand reaching for the knife he sleeps with under his pillow sometimes. The hilts is a familiar weight in his hands.
"Jason?" A voice echoes through the hallway, getting closer. His fingers loosen on instinct, a shock through his system. He doesn't say anything, just sits there motionless as her silhouette draws closer, until finally she steps through the door.
They stare at each other for a moment. He's shirtless, sitting up and staring at her, eyes wide with disbelief. She's wearing his shirt and a pair of boxers, hair sticking up on one end.
She looks beautiful.
Slowly, she sets her keys down on the nightstand and sits down next to him. His fingers twitch, but he keeps them in his lap.
"Are you alright?" She asks softly. There's a furrow in her brow as she takes him in. Red eyes, light scratches along the center of his chest where he's been clutching on trying to breathe earlier. He has an exhausted look about him, like a man who hasn't slept in days.
"You're here." He says, finally finding his voice. He shifts in place, eyes darting away like he's not sure if he's allowed to look anymore.
"You sounded rough over the phone." She offers. A pause. "And you look like shit."
It's so close to their usual back and forth banter that it hurts.
Jason swallows, shrugs in an attempt to be casual, eyes fixed on a spot over her shoulder. "Nightmare. I'm fine."
A hums. Tentatively, she places a hand over his. "You're still shaking." Comes her soft voice, and his gaze snaps back to her immediately, electricity up his spine.
She's so close, and Jason hasn't seen her in ages, and he really never understood what needing someone could ever mean until he fucked up enough for it to finally hit him. Her scent washes over him, and suddenly it's too much. His shame, the anger at himself, the pain of missing her, it all boils over and Jason can't help it anymore.
Her turns his palm over and grabs her hand, the other arm coming up to wrap around her shoulders to pull her close.
"I'm so fucking sorry." He says into her shoulder. "I'm sorry, baby. I fucked up. I'm fucked up, it's my fault." His grip tightens and there's a weird cognitive dissonance at war in his head. She feels so good against him, like home and fresh air, and Jason finally feels like he can breathe again. The other part of him scorns him for thinking he had any claim to this in the first place, rages about being cracked with too many fissures to ever truly keep himself together.
And then a hand settles into his hair, a thumb stokes the nape of his neck. She leans into him, shifting to settle down on his lap. Jason instantly takes the opportunity to pull her closer, adjusting so he can wrap both his arms around her with his face buried into her shoulder.
Seeing him like this breaks her heart. Jason, strong and sturdy- an anchor that kept himself and everyone around him afloat through sheer stubbornness and resolve. Her shoulder turns damp and her heart twists because she can count the number of times she's seen her boyfriend cry on one hand. As shitty as he was to her earlier, after some reflection she understood why he might have reacted like that. It's not something she's okay with, but she gets it.
"Shh, Jay." She shushes him, resting her cheek on his head, rubbing his shoulders. "It's okay."
"it's not." He shakes his head. "It's not okay. I should've-I didn't even give you a fucking chance-"
"Listen." She sighs, moves to cup his cheeks and tug until he lifts his head. Red eyes, sorrow and guilt filled stare up at her, and the honesty she sees is all she needs to know that he means it. That he really is apologetic and his reaction was not one out of malice, but self-preservation. "You're right, it wasn't okay. But I forgive you."
"You shouldn't." He manages to shake his head with a bitter, small laugh.
"I do. I know why you did it. I understand, I wish you'd have let me explain, but I understand." She smooths a thumb over his brow, but it does nothing to get rid of the furrow there. "Just don't let it happen again."
Something in Jason softens, a piece of the weight whisked away at the reassurance. "It won't." He promises, bumping their foreheads together, and he looks so intense with his words that she believes him. "I'll be better. I want to be. For you."
"I believe you." She leans forward, brushes their lips together in a chaste kiss, all soft. No harsh lines, no goodbyes. Just a promise.
Eventually, she pushes on his shoulders until he gets the hint and lays back on his bed. She settles down, head on his chest and pressed close under the covers. He never lets her go for a moment, strong arms banding iron around her the entire time, like he's afraid she might change her mind and leave if he lets go. For the first time in a week, his head is blissfully quiet. There's no way Jason isn't going to make this up to her even if she has forgiven him, but right now tiredness tugs on him so hard he can't do anything but follow her lead.
Lips press to the crown of her head. "I love you." Jason whispers. He says it again for good measure.
She hums, tangles their legs together and repeats it back to him, listening to the beat of his heart and letting it lull her to sleep.
They have a lot to talk about in the morning, he has his amends to make no matter what she says, but for now? This moment?
Thinking about you and Jason Todd being that one couple that gossips about other couples.
The dinner with some of your coworkers and their significant others had been pleasant enough. The food tasted good, the drinks too, but you couldn't help but pick up a weird vibe from a former couple at the table.
After saying your final farewells, you and Jason walked to your car and after some initial superficial comments about the restaurant and the evening in general, you finally said what you had been thinking all night long.
"So..." you start, trying to sound nonchalant, "was it just me or were Alan and Emily acting weird?"
Momentarily shifting his gaze from the road, Jason looked at you with an excited look on his face.
"They were!" he said, and from his tone, you could tell he had more to add to the conversation. "I mean, did you see the look on her face whenever he would open his mouth? She hates him."
You turned your body in your seat, now fully facing him as he kept driving.
"And I'll tell you more. You know the woman in the green dress on our side of the table?"
He hummed, urging you to continue.
"Rumor has it her and Alan are hooking up," you revealed, earning a look of pure shock from your boyfriend.
"Isn't she engaged as well?" he asked in disbelief.
"That's what I'm saying!"
A moment of silence went by, but the conversation wasn't done yet.
"Do you think she knows? Emily, I mean."
"I don't think she did before tonight. But now she must at least suspect something," you replied.
"I'm telling you, either way, she hates his guts," he said, before adding, "I would hate him too. All he did was talk about his pickleball games."
You laughed at his statement, totally agreeing with him. But at that point you started to feel bad about how judgemental you were being.
"Anyway, that's their life and they can do whatever they want."
"Yeah, no, exactly."
Safe to say that later that night while getting ready for bed, one of you made a comment in passing about the whole situation, and a lot of other observations — how Jason likes to call straight up gossiping — were made.
A/N: What can I say? This man loves Jane Austen after all.
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