Work Text:
If anyone asks–not that anyone is going to, but, you know, in the theoretical scenario when someone feels like committing suicide through the novel new method of asking invasive questions about Red Hood's personal life–Steph can honestly say that she was joking.
Sure, maybe it wasn't a joke made in the best taste, but in her defence, Jason really was basically screaming that he needed to have the kind of orgasm that left someone crying from how all-consuming it was, legs spread wide because they couldn't gather the energy to close them.
Massive bratty bottom energy, is what she's saying.
She hadn't expected him to actually take her up on it (had, in fact, kind of expected to be dodging gun shots like her, well not life, she's pretty sure that Jason's not so trigger happy that he'd kill her over a joke regardless of how bad it was, but maybe like her immediate future of not being injured depended on it. Getting shot, even if it does hit kevlar, fucking hurts. And the absolute last thing she needs is more mysterious bruises to hide from her roommates. She's pretty sure only the fact that they very much know that she's not in a relationship is preventing them from staging some sort of intervention, but the 'I'm just clumsy haha' excuse is wearing a little thin).
Said roommates are also the reason why she's flat on her back in one of Jason's safe houses rather than flat on her back in her bedroom. Even though that's where all her stuff is, she wanted to fuck Jason in a place where they wouldn't have nosy neighbours complaining about how loud she's going to make him scream, or to have to worry about doing the walk of shame in front of anyone. The indignity of slinking into a sex toy store as Spoiler with the goddamned boogyman of Gotham's crime lords by her side was much, much, much preferable. She can probably beg Babs to wipe the resulting news footage from the internet, right? If she asks real nice?
Plus, making Jason pick out the strap she was going to use on him was, like, really, really, really hot. Forest fire hot. Magma hot. Global warming hot.
She's pretty sure that she's been at least a little wet from the moment she watched him wrap a hand around a toy, weigh it in his palm, just the slightest hit of teeth biting down on his bottom lip as he considered.
Yeah, that sight alone was worth any amount of indignity she's going to have to suffer through later.
There's no way she's going to brag about this, she's not the type of kiss and tell (plus, there's like, zero percent chance of Jason letting her hit it again if he catches her bragging about bending him over and making him her bitch), but if it goes viral on, like, TikTok or whatever, she won't have to do any bragging! She can just swan around with a freshly 'yes indeed I did peg that man built like a sexy fridge with thighs you would pay a thousand bucks to watch crush a watermelon, thank you very much' glow.
(Timothy Jackson Drake, eat your heart out!)
"You are like, supernova hot, you know that?" she asks conversationally, running her hands up those delicious thighs. She digs her nails in, drags them back down and to her delight, Jason's cock visibly twitches where it's flat against his belly, smears precome in a pretty little line against his abs. She rubs her thumb over the top, teases him by pressing the edge of her nail into the slit there, and then brings her hand up to his mouth.
Jason rolls his eyes, but he does open his mouth, curls his tongue around her thumb. And she doesn't miss the pretty little blush that he makes, either. "Yeah, that's me, Red Hood, notoriously the hottest vigilante doing it right now. Move aside Superman and Starfire, there's a new hottie in town," he drawls, deeply sarcastic.
Steph snorts. "I could send you some RPF that wo-"
"Absolutely not."
She cackles.
(Ooohhh, there's probably going to be new Spoiler/Red Hood fic out soon! Maybe fan art? She'll have to hunt down the best ones and–oh, wait, no, would Jason think she was mocking him if she did send it to him? That 100% would not be her intention!
She probably shouldn't send anything. Shoot. There goes that plan.)
"So, are we going to get back to the main course, or should I just pull out a vibrator and take care of myself?"
Steph's pussy clenches down; she's never so badly wished to also have something inside of her. Fuck, why the hell didn't they go for a double ended toy? "Please, please let me watch that one day," she unashamedly begs.
Jason rolls his eyes, but that cute little blush darkens and creeps down until his entire decolletage region is a delicate pink.
Steph wants to bite.
"Well then," she says, and her voice catches in her throat, tighter than it was the last time she spoke. "Get to it then, cowboy."
God, she wants to bend Jason over the armrest of a couch and fuck him until he can't help but come all down the side. She wants to put him on his back and rail him until he can't come anymore, cock jerking uselessly between his legs as he comes dry. She wants to make him come until he cries and then pull out and crawl up his body, sit on his face until he almost suffocates in her pussy.
One day, one day soon, God willing and the creek don't rise, she'll be able to do all that and more.
(She wants to put Red Hood on his knees on a random rooftop in Crime Alley, make him eat her out and then leave him hanging, cock hard and useless in his cup. She wants to pull his hair and force his face, his fingers, his cock into her pussy.
She wants to see what it'll take to make the fearsome Red Hood cry.)
That's a bit full on, considering the vibe of most of their interactions has been very much on the, uh, friendly side. Still, she feels a strange connection to him that she doesn't with the other Bats, not even Babs or Cass; she feels like he can get her in a way that the others just can't, not because of any lack of willingness, but just because... they didn't grow up like she and Jason did. They haven't gone through what she and Jason have. Not that she's underselling anyone else's trauma or anything (Christ, Babs definitely gets like, silver medal at least in the Trauma Olympics) but there's a difference between what most of them have gone through and what she and Jason have.
"I feel like you're not paying attention to me."
Steph snaps back to the present, and grabs a hold of Jason's hips. He's warm and heavy in her lap, a long stretch of nudity that she needs to explore. He scowls down at her, but the effect is somewhat ruined by that cute blush making his ears red.
(She wants to bite.)
She rubs her thumbs against his hips and doesn't apologise. "Well, you gonna get to it, or not?"
Jason rolls his eyes, but he also reaches behind himself and she can feel a slight tug as he grabs a hold of the toy and slicks it up. He shuffles, just a little bit, and raises himself up. She can just see the toy past his balls, and even in Jason's big hand, it looks big.
Steph bites her bottom lip.
Jason sinks down on it, slow rocks of his hips as he works his way to the base. Steph isn't sure if he's aware of the noise he makes, of the thin whine that eeks out from between his teeth, but it makes her dig her nails into his skin. She's going to wreck him.
"Is it too big?" she croons.
"No," Jason huffs back. "Just–nghh."
Steph laughs, a light, airy noise that doesn't do anything to hide how turned on she is. She's pretty sure that her pussy's making a fucking puddle on the sheets underneath her from how wet she is. "You picked it out," she reminds Jason.
"Looked smaller in the box," he mutters. Steph snorts, but before she can respond, Jason leans forward, puts his hands on either side of her head, and begins to ride her. His pace is smooth, unhurried.
Steph can change that.
She grins up at him, runs her hands up his sides only to dig her nails in and drag them back down. She leaves pretty, red lines on his skin; not enough to hurt, not really, not for them, just enough to sting. Just enough to remind. Jason's pace stutters, speeds up. His breath comes faster, his chest visibly starts to heave. God, he's so insanely hot. Steph wants to see if she can get him worked up enough that his tits bounce.
"You look good like this," she compliments honestly. She skates her hands back up his sides and cups his pecs. She knows that it can be hit and miss, in terms of feeling good–or at least, better than how just having someone touch you in general makes you feel–but she will never forgive herself if she fucks Jason and doesn't play with his chest. He's so stacked that he almost fills out her hands, if it was a bit softer she could believe that she was groping a pair of A cups. Instead it's a delightful squish of muscle and fat; she squeezes, she massages, she rubs her fingers over his nipples until they perk up underneath her touch.
"Of course I do," Jason shoots back. Steph thinks that he's aiming for breezy, he misses it by a mile. His voice is hoarse, like he doesn't have enough air, and he can't seem to look her in the eye.
(So cute!)
Steph readjusts so that she can plant her feet better on the bed, give herself some proper leverage. "It's good that you know," she says, and thrusts.
Jason honest to god squeaks. His eyes go wide and he clamps a hand over his mouth.
Steph smirks like a cat who's got the cream and the canary. "You like that?"
Jason glares, lowers his hand to respond, and Steph takes the opportunity to fuck up into him again. Whatever Jason was planning on saying, it's lost in the pretty moan he makes.
Steph's going to make him do that again if it's the last thing she does.