Could you do one and fifty nine with Jason
Summary: Jason and Reader visit the Wayne Manor for the first time for a friendly lunch. A pity he doesn’t plan on keeping it PG-13 for long. [As stated by the ask, prompsts one and fifty nine with Jason! “What? Does that feel good?” + Public with Jason]
Word Count: 2531
TW: Cussing and smut, as the prompt implied. Enjoy!
People that asked to be tagged: @sarcasmismyfirstlove, @dora-the-grownup
A/N: Angst coming in tonight! On may I’ll start a new rhythm, at least two pieces per week, but for now I can’t relax, I have uni work!!! I hope you enjoy, cuz I definitiely did.
In a twist — Jason Todd x Reader
Bruce was a reasonable man, and his points had been valid when he had sneaked up on you to have a “private talk”. You didn’t want to listen at first, given his relationship with Jason, but deep in your heart you knew it would do him well. Thus, a lunch didn’t seem like a big deal, until you had, of course, proposed so to Jason, which he had flipped about. He made his point clear and it took you some convincing, but you thought you had changed his mind after a long and torrid bath. In retrospective, you should have been sharper from the moment he had easily agreed after, as if someone had momentarily replaced him. But now there’s nothing you can do except press your knees harder.
You started to feel it in the car but thought nothing of it in the end. Twenty minutes ago, he had been going at it hard on your body back home, thus maybe you were still feeling the pleasure of the aftermath, sighing content into the kiss he left on your cheek. Sweet, innocent. He was being lenient, and you loved that. You loved him. After all, Jason wouldn’t be convinced by someone who was just a girlfriend; you were so much more than that, and he had made that clear lots of times in bed, when you both were alone on your own. He cared; he just didn’t want to show it to anyone who he just met. He was selective and picky about the people he put his trust on. You understood that and felt deeply honored because of it.
“I’m glad you agreed to it.”
“Well, your convincing gave me some thinking. I thought it would be fun.”
You kiss him, stupidly in love as you are when he looks at you like that. Jason Todd might be not as charming as certain people, but he has a certain something that makes him irresistible, so charming you would give in to anything he asks with that deep voice of his which he uses on missions. You always get so wet when he is commanding like that. The worst thing is he knows, which makes him cocky as hell. But you like him like that too, unfortunately. You smile into his second kiss as he car seems to stop at the entrance of the gates of Wayne Manor. It’s imposing, and TV does not make it justice; it’s in some way uncanny, as you’ve seen many reportages and interviews on the gates of the Manor, but no one’s been so close, has gotten past the doors. Not any mediocre Gothamite, at least. The Wayne Manor was quite famous because of its galas, but normal people like you didn’t have access to those. Not before you met Jason anyways.
Jason kept his surname, but you learnt quite quick he was, in civil records, Bruce’s son. Fortune did not attract you, as tempting as it might have been once; and you deeply admired how Jason had been trying to make it on his own. That’s kind of how you two met, and you wouldn’t have it any other way – people met at bars, but you got closer in a hostage situation where he had infiltrated the group as one of the day to day civilians who just had the bad luck of being stuck in said situation. It was no coincidence, and you helped him in his plan, being bold and a bit reckless, just like he was. People said opposites attracted each other, but that was not the case with you two. In some way, similarities tied you together. You understood things no one else seemed to, and you hugged him close the first night he decided to stay, as a friend. Then it all had been natural.
He helps you get out of the car, your knees slightly weak from the anxiety that is now suddenly spiking up and maybe from something else that you can’t quite pinpoint. But then the door is opening, and you are met by Alfred Pennyworth, one of the few figures apparently to Jason in the Manor. You greet each other, cordially; it’s weird, you think, being so close to the family and yet working for it, in theory. You don’t mind his inquisitive stare as Jason gets you in, taking you by your waist, hips together almost.
“I just want to say I completely understand if you want to break up with me after meeting my family.”
“I managed to survive our first night with your horrible snores. I think I can take it.” He chuckles, giving your waist a firm grip, as if suddenly validated in some way. What you two had was not a superficial or shallow thing. You trusted each other completely; he knew, or was starting to come into terms with, that if you hadn’t fled yet, there were not many possibilities of you doing so in the future.
Except of course, Dick fucking Grayson.
He comes down the stairs, casually almost, and marveling you. Jason notices how your eyes open up slightly, pupils dilatating – is it attraction? He was quite aware of Grayson’s charm, his natural charisma that seemed to outweigh his attractiveness, and that was quite difficult. He opens up his arms as he gets to the bottom and comes closer to Jason, of course, first. Jason can’t quite process what he’s saying, because his eyes are moving to Dick’s: and his pupils are dilated too as his eyes pose on (Y/N) for the very first time, fully. It’s like he drinks her in a gulp, and seems mesmerized, much to her embarrassment, which he covers up with a small chuckle, before offering up her hand.
“Uh, (Y/N) (L/N). A pleasure.”
“Pleasure’s mine”. He answers, naturally, a small “enchanting” (he would say flirty) quick wink before looking up Jason. “So this is it, huh? The one’s that’s been keeping you away from patrolling”
“He can make his own decisions.” She sharply answers before Jason can even open her mouth. That did not get in well with her, which Dick seems to realize – panic is all over his face, as Jason starts to laugh and shortly after is followed by her. “Shit, Jason was right, you really are a Labrador.”
There’s a second laugh and a scoff from two significantly younger “kids” as they go down the stairs. Dick chuckles, slightly embarrassed and shrugging. You recognize the smaller one, Damian, but you can’t quite make out the teenager one.
“That was a good one. Pleasure’s mine, (Y/N) (L/N). Tim Drake.” Direct, doesn’t beat around the bush. He might be your favorite one for now.
Presentations are made, and it’s only when Bruce himself appears that you start to feel it, taking air abruptly and gripping Jason’s arm tighter. A slight vibration on your crotch, soft and pleasuring enough to not be uncomfortable or unwelcomed. Perfect enough to build up something.
“Jason, what the fuck-“. You mumble almost in his ear, before walking up to Bruce, offering your hand first, letting him talk, and welcome you in officially. You feel Jason’s smirk even when you can’t full see it. It irks you. Fuck, he has plan.
You are guided in by Alfred to the dining area – classy, enormous, slightly warm because of the fire not very far from the table. Tim and Damian flock around you, asking you all type of various questions which seem to be “basic” ones – you try to keep concentrated even as Damian’s ones get harder and your mind flies somewhere else.
Bruce is presiding the table, at the top of it, and then at his right there’s Damian, and at his left Dick. You’re put up next to week, in front of Jason, Tim left at the other side of the table, contrary to Bruce. The sitting makes you nervous, even when you are close to possibly the smoothest talker in the house. When you sit down you expect to hear some noise, but it seems muffled by your thighs tightly pressed against each other and knees. You’ve been giving it some thought, and you are now quite sure that it’s in your underwear. It didn’t quite had been as light as always, and Jason had been quite insistent on your lingerie choice, bra and knickers matching. But he had always been fond of your underwear matching sets, so you had not thought much about it. “Fucking devil”.
“So, Gotham. Try to tell me about your life in a minute or so.”
You keep, or try to keep, all of your attention on him, looking directly at his direction and smiling, softly, when you notice Jason giving some curt answers to Bruce. That’s new. But when you think you have it all controlled, the vibrations go up a notch and you have to take in air harshly again. You explain it’s a cold, your breathing suffering at times because of it. Dick smiles sweetly, understandingly enough, and says he has an excellent home remedy he will pass you on lately. You thank him, turning to your first dish, a soup.
You fear you are going to leave a permanent mark on the Wayne Manor for the wrong reasons. It’s almost dessert time and you are slightly red, hiding as best as you can your pants with coughs and sneezes, but you are sure you’ve bended slightly the silver cutlery – the ministrations of your underwear are continuous now, pressing tightly against your crotch, and there’s an uncomfortable cold wet spot against your most sensitive part. You haven’t yet embarrassed yourself in a conversation with the Wayne’s, which seems an achievement by yourself, and you would dare say that Dick and you have the potential of harvesting a special friendship – of course, if Jealous Jason is not to get in between.
After lunch, Bruce says he’s going for a drink, some coffee, and invites Jason and you both to stay – but there’s no way you can go through it, and he seems to know as well as his hand trails around the curve of your ass, his hand almost trailing down to the hem of your dress and slowly getting his hand up-
“A pleasure, truly, we hope we can do this again! Bye everyone!”
That must have been incredibly rude, as you gripped Jason tightly enough and got him out of the Manor. You walked, still gripping his arm with more force than before and letting out the first pants in all evening.
“Are you fucking stupid in the head or-?”
“Hottest thing we’ve ever done. Don’t deny it. You know I hate it when you lie to yourself”.
For the ride back you are offered one of Bruce’s rides, someone else getting you home, but he seems as eager as you are, if the slight bulge in his pants is anything to go by… So Jason decide to steal one of Bruce’s car, a black modern one, which seems new if you are to guide yourself by the smell. You both laugh as teenagers as you get inside, quickly, and Jason rides away. Fucking God you want to ride him.
You don’t make it home. The Manor is near the outskirts of the city, meaning there’s no one generally on the road save the occasional interview and the crew following it. He is a private person, and no one has business with him if there hasn’t been a previous appointment made. Thus, horny and hot you both kind of decide to fuck in the middle of the woods.
“I don’t know if Bruce has cameras here or not but-“
“Shut up, we are not getting naked, so-“
“I love you so much”. He says, chuckling against your mouth as you get off your seat and climb onto the driver’s one, Jason’s lap, kissing him fiercely and passionately. There’s a certain desperation on it. “I wanted to know so badly how wet are you”
“Dripping. So take yours out and I’ll if it up enough.”
It’s quick, like teenagers fucking desperately in the middle of nowhere. Your hand goes into the glass of the window, trying to hold yourself up as his tip rubs on your entrance, slightly on your clit, making you press yourself tighter against him. He doesn’t play much as he gets in, your knees almost giving out and making you sit on his completely.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck”. You curse, against his ear, your thighs paralyzed by the feeling. Full, agonizingly full and wet.
“You are incredibly wet. You are going to get my pants ruined, baby.”
“Like you care”
“Like I care.” He laughs, conceding you the victory, as one of his fingers makes his way inside your dress to play with the little pearl inside, rubbing it teasingly and making your entire body boil.
“Slowly, baby. Or else I’ll come too quick.”
“Yeah, yeah”. He mutters, almost as if in trance as he continues playing, with a little more care.
It’s desperate. There’s a small buildup until you feel like nothing he will do will ever be good enough.
Then he starts ravishing you. His hands get on your back, almost as if trying to break your dress, the zipper; he grabs and slaps one of your buttocks, trying to leave a mark behind and succeeding in so with the thrusts he’s giving you which make you go wild. You mark him all over the naked skin you get – his neck, his shoulders; you open up his shirt and drag your nails in his chest as he gets deeper each time. Both of you have started to sweat, and you can feel it in your lips as he gets you closer and closer; he might be at its brink, you think, because he starts playing with your little pearl, giving it rubs and circles just as you’ve taught him multiple times. You beg him to stop, but he knows that’s not it – you always say no, but you mean yes, you’ve talked about boundaries, and he loves to open her up inside until she’s scratching and begging, too overwhelmed with his kisses and love ministrations. Because that’s what it is, what it has always been: making love.
Your orgasm hits you first, squeezing him impossibly so: he has to make his own way, with a little more of force, pushing you to the driving wheel almost, just so that he can give his finals pumps. He cums inside, filling you and making you screech, oversensitive. Your fingers search for his back, his neck, which always makes you feel safe and sound. He grabs you back, by your waist, his head on your chin, kissing your neck lovingly enough to make you melt.
“I hate your little games.”
“You love them. Next time, what about-“
“No!”