This scene
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@fallenwinged
This scene
suprpowers:
Conner’s reply to the man’s teasing is a rather gruff sounding moan, or perhaps it was just a grunt as he realigned himself to give himself better friction and the male a little less stimulation. If that’s the game he wanted to play, then Conner could use his strength to his own advantage. Jason was like a paperdoll to him right now, he could lift him with one hand if he wanted and he currently had him pinned nine ways till Sunday. He only does this for a few seconds before a change of heart hits him and he moves back to give the man what he so desperately wanted out of him.
“Two fingers is my counter offer,” Conner moans softly, lips finding a salty spot along the other side of the male’s neck to suck on for a moment. He’d hardly marked Jason’s left side, having mostly focused on the right up until now. “I do want something tight, and I know a fucker like you is the type that fucks and never gets fucked. Mr Alpha Dom Top, right? I am right, aren’t I?” he grins, huffing with a haughty breath of laughter that in turn causes his chest to swell greatly. “I’ll even let you suck on them,” Conner tries to sweeten the offer, as if that’d be something that a man like Jason would ever be remotely interested in. Using his TK, Conner slowly sends tendrils of telekinetic energy down the man’s legs, twisting and curling around the expanse of dense muscle. It’s when it reaches his ankles that everything tightens, everything pulls down towards the surface he has him pressed against. “You can move your hips, just not your legs and your arms. I’ll release you if you say one word and one word only, and it’s Batman’s first name. Otherwise, I’m going to keep having some fun, are you cool with this, ‘Hood?”
If it was some other stranger, Jason could’ve pushed him off and put an end to the struggle. But with Conner, Jason just kept on and let the other continue on with his tease and his little marketing talk. Two fingers. It was almost too adorable; Superboy was trying his hardest just to put it in like the jock finally got the girl out of the party and trying his best to score. That while his lungs still fought for air, through heat and through rut—and how Conner decided that he could play around with instant bondage—Jason’s chest finally swelled for a good lungful and forced out his chuckle. Tried. It was more of a smile through his slack mouth, leaning towards the other as if to nudge the side of his face and sighed onto the scruff --------- maybe he did consider cuddling the other just for laughs. Looks like the Kent got their bad boy—adorable effort.
“Bruce—” he finally hummed as he pressed on close once more, lips leaning up to his ear where he captured the lobe with a little nip and breathed on as their chest rubbed on with the throb of their lengths. Now, whether or not Conner would keep to his word is up to him—if anything, it was more a thrill; Conner was already pulling stunts that Jason didn’t know he was willing to do… considering Clark is just the sweet farmboy lover. At least the boy knows more than just the birds and the bees. “ --------- you really think that I’m as uptight as Bruce and as much of a shrinking violet like your daddy, Kon?”
capedaffairs:
sebastian could tell by the way jason regarded him that there was still some level of distrust. and while he couldn’t fault the man for feeling some type of way, particularly in reference to bruce, he did wish that jason would open up, at the very least, to him. jason had become something of a vigilante, in his own right. sebastian was far from being a hero. “tim is still young. he doesn’t understand the life you and your father had. or what you’ve been through.” sebastian was honestly surprised at himself. he hadn’t felt so … parent-like before.
“regardless of what you choose to believe. i am still in your corner, too.” he shrugged. he wouldn’t say anything more on the matter. the cat would, however, keep tabs on jason, if he needed to. bruce didn’t need to know what the red hood did. sebastian would watch out for him. it would be better that way. “tim is far from needing the bird and the bees talk, jason. he’s had sex, i’m almost positive.” he waved his hand dismissively. “what about you? do we need to have the ‘always use protection’ talk?’ he teased.
Well, Sebastian did say it. Regardless of what Jason believes—so there it was. And while he was more than capable of thinking of another quip, or any other metaphor for corners and cats, them and their empty attempts to convince was more of an inconvenience to Jason that it is to them. To think that he’s trying to get into Tim and Damian being that they have the one who are more protective and tense when it came to Bruce’s more intimate relationships, Jason would rather steer clear. If anything, he was one less person to worry about—he’s doing Sebastian a favor really. He didn’t need the whole camp counselor thing when the thing that really counted was staring at them right in the face. Really, words were always an easy throw --------- exactly why Jason has a smile to play on along with.
“They all like it raw and I’m a giving person,” he shrugged, letting his gaze weigh onto the other as he crossed his arms once more into the swell of his form. “—not that it mattered anyway, I got perks…”
martyrizedme:
“ Yeah, great. I feel incredibly safe with you… I meant, where are we as in a location. You know, geographically speaking. ” Matt tried not to be a smartass with people who had clearly saved his ass, but his patience was thin and he’d really like to put some distance between him and Castle Jr. He’d rather not get in a whole spat about disarming the guy if trouble came around again. Hallucinations and gunshots from earlier rang in his head and Matt shook it in agitation. He needed to check on Foggy and Cari, too. But he couldn’t exactly do that with his current company around and without a phone.
The hair on the back of Matt’s neck bristled when the guy used his name, and he quickly shoved his cowl back on. The helmet felt like another added layer of protection against all the demons knocking against his skull, helping to ground him in the moment. “ You have working eyes and clear mental issues… That’s great. Real good to know, ” he taunted back as he stood up straight. Matt did his best to stretch out the kinks in his shoulders and heaved out a deep breath. “ Now, where’s the sign-out sheet for your makeshift hospital ? ”
If Jason could have a dollar for anyone that regarded the Red Hood and him as insane, he’d be rich --------- and he’d be richer if it’s a dollar more if the claim came from some hero who jack off pretty hard on their double life and pretend that they don’t have issues. Though while sass was easy, Jason knew better than to agitate an already tense vigilante—even more so since what he had in mind was pretty much of an open wound. The fact that he was already all tensed up... and Jason was within throwing range of his nifty little baton. Dick is gonna be so jealous, really. But that’s it; he can’t really joke about how Matt Murdock was screaming about eternal damnation and prove that he was just as much jacked up in the head, can’t he? Though it was funny to think that people still believe that. Scared of Hell and it’s punishments --------- and there he is, Jason Todd, practically walking through damnation with every fucking waking moment.
“Oh, I just usually ask for a kiss on the cheek,” Jason teased on as the distant sirens were easy enough to just make him focus. Taking out the trash was one thing, cleaning up the drip trail was another. “—but since we’re close to Coney Island maybe you can shoot some balloons for me and give me a cute lion plushie instead…” he hummed on, knowing that the man will most likely jump out and get back to Hell’s Kitchen since it’s a mere bump and a thrust.
Turn and smoulder.
suprpowers:
“You should just let me fuck you,” Conner proposes finally, their bodies stilling for only a moment as he takes in the male’s sweat-slicked frame. Trapping the male’s arms overhead, Conner moves down his body, away from swollen lips and harsh breathes to a place where he can once more leave his mark. Although his hands do leave, the binding does not. See, within his cache of abilities exists a tactile telekinesis, one that currently had it’s tendrils winding up the man’s body. The brunt of it snakes around thick wrists, tying them together, and his focus maintains on the man’s strain. Tongue running over a bicep, saltiness pooling on his tongue, those crystal-blue Kryptonian orbs observe the male’s struggle, smirking when he opts to take a lighter taste, his touch more akin to a feather than the bullish presence it had mirrored prior.
Hand firm against Jason’s swollen length, Conner keeps his contact firm and omnipresent, digits splayed flat against his groin. He’s made his way to the former Robin’s chest, pert nipples each enjoying a hastened tease. It’s when he’s finished mirroring his attention to one side of the body to the other. Conner pulls back up, hand tugging firm on his jaw, wrenching his mouth open to kiss him quite violently. Although he doesn’t split a lip, their teeth clash, and it’s ten varieties of desperation rolled into once. “Just let me fuck you,” he practically wines, hips slotting together and resuming that grind against him once more.
It was easy to forget when he’s not at all up in arms and on his full guard—Conner was special beyond his strength. Jason was just meant to take it. No. He wasn’t in the water. He’s not under the rubble either. He’s done this before. And Conner was making it easier to forget. In sparks. In marks. In the way his lips grazed against the heft of his form. That where teeth tugged at a nub, Jason just let his head fall back in a firm tug, mouth slack in some silent moan as his thrill rode through his own struggle to just breathe. No. Conner tasted him more. Jason sighed. And all that there was are the sensations that rushed in with the stale blanket of the night air. A tug against his throb and his gasps came louder. Rougher. His fists clenched right down to his biceps, and where his sure smirk once was, it was just all pleasure in paints of fluster --------- and all at once, it was just all Conner; in its warm cloy. Soft lips. Hard demand. Harder below.
How a chuckle managed to forced itself through swell and the drowning inhale as Jason tried to take the kiss was almost a blur in his mind. But Conner was making things too clear at least. Conner’s squeeze, Jason’s rut. Though with how Conner was practically prying his cheeks apart with every knead, he growled on as his warm breath came ragged against the other’s kiss. Jason gripped their cock’s then—tried to. But at least it was enough of a press to make Conner feel how hard he is against his own—especially with how their lengths slid on with another rut. “—aw, too hard and too frustrated? Want a tight squeeze?” Jason taunted—words closing with a grunt as he felt the knot inside him tighten with how their bodies just pressed close and flush. Sweaty. Warm.
pirctesmile:
He didn’t argue when Jason told the young woman that Red Hood did it. He was supposed to be dead, and having his face pop up on tv again wast the last thing he wanted. If Jason wanted to be seen at the bad guy, or whatever god awful scenario the media will manage to come up with —- so be it.
‘‘I’ve seen the Batman, once. I wasn’t impressed, if not for how deep his voice sounds,’‘ he replied with a deadpan attitude, getting into the van with Jason in a matter of time, before starting the engine. ‘‘Easy to call another man old when you’re hiding behind a mask,’‘ he teased him, turning the music on for it to tame the background noises of the sirens while driving down the block. ‘‘Now would be the right time to tell me what you were doing at that diner,’‘ Frank didn’t believe in coincidences.
“If there’s smoke, there’s fire— ” Jason admitted plainly, canting his head towards the other before turning his sights back to the streets before them. Jason was far deeper in the underbelly of Gotham than Bruce could ever be… and with the word among the rats about some new exterminator, the news of it would reach Jason sooner or later --------- even sooner when it grazed along the news too. Vigilantes. More plague on the streets… and even more so with a copycat one. Except he wasn’t. The Punisher was really in Gotham—and Jason knew better than to let it catch on and set ablaze and send them all coming. Batman included.
“-------- it was a rumor at first… and then the next thing I know, the Chinese had been hit… and the only Chinese that I’ve hit on is my take out…” Jason trailed on, stealing a glance at the side mirror for anything suspicious. “Had to find you before he finds you first…” he finally shrugged.
🐦| EVENT STARTER
There’s a reason why it had always been a race with Bruce and the Robins. Slack off long enough and the fear that the Bat has once instilled in them had long been gone --------- not that it was that much of a brunt; slap em’ on the hand and they’d come back sooner or later. Give them extra weapons and it’s a street party. He puts them down, they crawl back up—and Jason was left dealing with overtime. Pro? At least he has more reason to throw to Bruce or anyone else to why his way works—not that he needed to, but that could make them shut the fuck up. Con? Everything --------- and by everything, Jason meant from top to bottom and side to side. The other included. Like it or hate it, it’s not just about shooting to kill.
“—isn’t it past your bed time?” his voice strained through the filters of his helmet as his broad chest swelled for a sigh. Exasperated at yet another hurdle. Judgmental at yet another hurdle. But it’s all in a night’s work. Same old bullshit but multiplied by ten.
“Really? You don’t think I understand what it’s like to be abandoned? Forgotten? To be the Robin nobody trusts?”
Art by Dexter Soy
martyrizedme:
Now that Matt was trying to recall the events of the past day, he could grasp pieces of what happened. Of course, he didn’t try to remember any of it with too much effort. Because what actually happened was deeply mixed with what his mind had hallucinated, and it was nearly impossible to tell what had been real and what had just been demons of his imagination without getting nauseous. He drained the bottle of water until the plastic became a crinkled mishapen mess in his grip, and tried his hardest not to think about the lingering scent of gunpowder and blood that he was certain was real. Those smells were never too far behind with men like the Red Hood.
“ Where are we? ” He pressed on, no longer wanting to think about what the actions the other man had deemed necessary in order to save him. Matt listened closely to their surroundings as he pushed himself up to his feet. The streets around them were still in a mild state of panic, but it sounded more like the panic that settled in in the aftermath of catastrophe. His legs wobbled weakly under his weight and he caught himself on the bearest surface. A harsh breath sucked in between clenched teeth before he reached for his cowl. “ – did anyone else see my face ? ”
“—safe,” now Jason was quick to answer that—the man was already on edge as he was given what he had to go through and as petty has he could be, he’s smart enough to know better… or considerate. Ha. Besides, the shit storm isn’t as over as they’d like to think. Sure, they did manage to stop Scarecrow on his tracks, but his machinations still had a kick in them. Jason still needed to creep through Gotham to make sure there were no more sign of it—or at least an immediate threat to the people who were just now trying to get up. People needed a place to sleep after all, and the streets and alleys filled with greater dangers doesn’t exactly spell poverty real estate.
“And you don’t have to worry, Mr. Murdock—” okay. Now that’s a taunt. Some little poke. “—I got the cowl off when we got here, I’m the only one who saw your pretty face… which could be bad for you,” now there was a chuckle, but while it was easy enough to antagonize, it sounded exhausted. It was almost like a desperate joke just to breathe through the city’s unlucky streak that Jason was sure enough to know would probably keep him awake from the next couple of months. “But hey, at least I think you’re cuter in person… and I like this banged up look better than the good boy front page darling...”
martyrizedme:
There’s a long, tense moment where Matt couldn’t figure out who was speaking. His head was still swimming and his stomach churning, he had to force himself to focus past the still lingering physical reactions to the toxin. The aggressive growl of the other man’s voice was a sharp contrast to his considerate actions and that reminded Matt too much of a certain someone, but the guy before him sounded a bit too young. His heartbeat a bit too unsure of itself. And then it clicked: Frank Castle Jr. He had never quite figured out what this guy’s deal was like he had with Frank. Matt made a mental note to make sure Gun Happy Man #1 and Gun Happy Man #2 never met, and quickly snatched up the bag. The scent of fresh bread was a godsend and helped to mask the thick scent of blood Matt swore he still felt around his feet. That wasn’t real.
“ Who the hell is Justin Bieber ? ” he gruffly asked. Not out of a genuine curiosity to understand the reference but simply a desire to latch onto something. Anything that took his mind off the past twelve hours.
He ate and hydrated himself on autopilot. It all still tasted like dirt and ashes but Matt forced himself to swallow it down and fill his stomach. He had already done his share of throwing up.
“ You seem to have experience with this kind of thing…. — Did you kill the people who did this? ”
Oh sure. He doesn’t know the Biebs. Sure. Okay. Jason would’ve had a little more sass to that if it weren’t for the fact that his hunch was right; the blackout was a calm before the storm. And while chaos wasn’t as wide spread, he knew better—even more so from the fact that they were now dealing with bigger villains. How Scarecrow managed to show his face again was beyond him—but he gotta give it to Bruce for being consistent; another fucking satisfied customer of the fcking Arkham roulette. But the real hilarious part is he was yet to see a shadow of any of Bruce’s children through it all. Or Bruce. The day that Jason was finally left alone in the playground and he’s about to clean up after his old man’s mess --------- obviously, he was in no mood to explain his necessary methodology... even more so give his side of the debriefing for anybody else either.
“Well, I had to haul your tight ass out there without them killing us—” Jason said plainly as his broad chest swelled for that unwelcome weigh of the night air as he turned to face the open face of the unfinished building floor that Jason used to hide the other. “ --------- I’m sure that if you try to remember what they looked like when you were all drugged out mid-fight, it’s be an easier pill to swallow.”
Matt had been given the antidote to the fear toxin hours ago and he was still unsure what was real or not. He had tried meditating through the disarray of his mind but every loud bang and rumble of the ground beneath his feet brought him right back. The visions of carnage and hell had dwindled away and yet he felt incapable of finding his center, as far away from being the man without fear as he ever was. So hours passed, and he still wore his Daredevil suit. The bodyarmor was worn more as a mental shield of comfort than anything else. The cowl discarded next to him while his listless eyes stared off at nothing.
Matt breathed soft and quiet and did his best to differentiate between what was real and what wasn’t. The passing heartbeats around him were the easiest sounds to latch onto and ground himself with. His chest pushed out with a heavy sigh as he roughly ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair. He was in the middle of pulling on it harshly because the genuine pain helped, but he quickly straightened up when he realized just how close one heartbeat was.
“ Um… hi - Who’s there? ” A day ago and he could’ve figured that out on his own. Now every stimulation of his senses seemed to blend together and only cause confusion. “ Whoever you are… Please, no flash photography. ”
Beyond a couple of hours was already pushing it to luck. Jason had seen enough to know that there are ones who broke down within less --------- even more so with how he watched the other wrestle through it. If anything, what attempts to fight his horrors were the least of his problems; Jason knew how to dodge or, ultimately, subdue the other. But soon enough, the screams. Even the antidote can only do so much—it worked, but not as fast as how the drug entrenched itself. It was the Devil’s own struggle before it finally took hold. That for a good moment, it was just screams. Wails. Desperate prayers that fell on deaf ears and walls that had been far too intimate with desolation itself. It was funny—in some other time, in some other situation—Jason would’ve laughed. Convulsing in fear. It was pathetic. He has had his fair share of sleazy men praying to him to keep their heads intact. But that was different. A sleazy scramble for survival is not the same as terror. Harrowing. Hopeless. Terror was different --------- Jason should know… he could remember the time he had screamed like that too. But that was over.
“Calm down, Justin Bieber…” Jason finally spoke, knowing fully that the drug has worked enough that he had watched the other in that muttering silence. Breathing. Clawing. Fighting. Shit. Imagine digging your way out alone? Back to the real world too. Now that’s pathetic. Jason scoffed as he watched putting a paper bag just close by.
“I got you some bread and water. --------- you need something to puke all that out with…”
THE SUPER SECRET RED HOOD NOT BATCAVE BASE
Stick your hands long enough into the thick of the mud and you’d find out that some things aren’t as dirty. Jason had already been funded by Talia al Ghul once, after all… so stealing syndicate money for his own personal use was far from something that would strike some semblance of guilt in him --------- most especially not when he’s not exactly walking their footsteps and live a life of a crowned pig that gorged on perverse luxury. He has a job… and his job requires necessities to operate. That was it. And Jason was very much willing to get dirty money for how own dirty work if that’s what it takes to keep his home from Gotham’s own rot. If anything, they should be thanking him for their philanthropy; after all, it was their money that is keeping the city safe and sound not just for them but for the future and beyond—well, save for infrastructures. Jason isn’t above blowing up a warehouse if that’s what it takes… or half the Gotham docks. And so it goes.
Located within Gotham, Jason’s safehouse is practically invisible—not even Bruce Wayne knows where it is and that says enough… not that it was something to write home about anyway. It’s one of many too… Jason was not at all picky --------- but most of all, Jason wasn’t really invested in it since home is a concept that was long gone from him. As long as there’s a place for him to plan his next move, store his guns, to train and to rest in—and most of all, a quiet and peaceful place for him to stitch his wounds and pry bullets out of his battered form to prepare it for the night after—it was all good. He slept in the streets, anyway… anything with a roof was more than enough for him.
The place itself was meant to be non-descript and most of all out of sight and therefore out of mind. His main hideout is an old factory building in amongst Gotham’s industrial multitude of old abandoned buildings. And while it was indeed a massive place, he only uses a portion of it while the rest was basically his arena where any intruder can have a go and play with him. But in the place that he does inhabit, the only thing that he can boast is a clean big bed. There’s a couch. There’s a table. More tables for his investigations. More for his bombs. Thee kitchen has a stove and running water—it was functional enough despite the old concrete and older tiles. For the most part, the open space is for training and working out… or when he’s too battered to crawl up to his bed when the night takes a turn for the unlucky. Though if he could crawl, at least the factory’s old communal shower works—and that one’s clean enough to be clean in. Then there’s room for guns and gear and a quick hatch to the garage downstairs for his bike.
But if he needs his feet, he can always take the underground tunnel and reach Gotham in full stealth… or if he needs to cover his tracks when the need arises… like when Batman manages to find him and he needs to blow everything up with one press of a button.
base type: hide out
location: somewhere in gotham
defense: high... especially when the traps are employed or if the bombs blow up
residents:
jason todd