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Jason checks his air filters are working at full capacity before he swings down into Robinson Park.
The purple-pink spore cloud is a sure-fire sign that Ivy is back on her bullshit, and he’s not about to ruin his streak of not embarrassing himself under the influence of pollen, thank you very much.
He's not strictly supposed to be here, but he taps into the comms for all of twenty-three seconds and that’s exactly enough to convey the general sense of all out chaos out there so… what the hell. He figures one more body checking the area for civilians never hurts, and the Big Bad Bat doesn't ever have to know.
The public bathroom on the east of the park is empty, and Jason doesn't find anybody hiding in the central bistro or the bandstand either. Most people probably cleared out ASAP, like good little Gothamites.
As he skirts around the east wall of the botanical gardens, he catches glimpses of black and green and blue through the hazy air - looks like Bruce and Dick are keeping Ivy occupied. No sign of Robin - either of them, Timberly or the shrimpy new one - which means whatever this stuff is, it’s probably one of the sex pollen varieties.
Yeah, Jason is real glad that's not his problem.
He'll check out the old observatory and then book it before anybody spots him.
Of course, he doesn't actually get to do that because halfway up the lawn a body slams into him out of nowhere and they roll down the banking in a tangle of limbs. Jason fights down his instinct to lash out before he gets his bearings, because chances are this is a dosed bystander.
Except it's not.
They skid to a stop and he's up on his feet and it's Spoiler.
Her hood has come down in the tumble, blonde hair sticking out at odd angles where it’s coming loose from a ponytail. The blank face covering she usually wears is gone and her exposed eyes are wild, pupils blown wide.
She isn’t wearing a rebreather.
Fuck.
Spoiler takes one look at him, her eyes going impossibly wider, and frantically shakes her head. His reputation clearly precedes him, and Jason has a split second of bittersweet pride that Bruce still sees him as enough of a threat to warn off his obedient little birds before the girl whips around and stumbles in the opposite direction.
And. This isn’t his problem. He wasn’t even supposed to be here in the first place. Jason could just walk away.
But every ounce of training in him screams contain the threat, and nobody else seems to be on this side of the park. Shit.
The purple of her suit is only a shade darker than the spore particles lingering in the air - if she gets more than a few feet away he'll lose her.
Fuck it.
Jason lunges after her, grabs the edge of her cape just before it slips out of reach. She twists to kick at him, vicious, but the angle isn't great so he rolls with the impact, uses the momentum to duck forward around her and pull her back into a tight hold against his chest, her arms trapped at her sides.
She thrashes for a moment, then stills and starts running through an unfamiliar breathing exercise. Not bat-trained? Or a new one they've incorporated since he died, maybe? Spoiler wasn’t a player when Jason made his big Gotham comeback, he doesn't know enough about her to know who she's trained with.
"Spoiler," he says, and the helmet's voice modulator doesn't really lend itself to soothing but it’s not like he could waste time with niceties anyway when there’s a mind altering drug literally hanging in the air. "Haven't really had the ple--"
She stamps down hard on his toes. Clever, if he hadn't been wearing steel-toed boots. Points for effort, but this is getting old fast.
"Look, Blondie. You've been dosed."
Spoiler shakes her head again, snarls wordlessly. Is that the pollen? Fuck, it's been too long since he brushed up on which strains do what. And he doesn’t remember any of them being this particular shade of lurid magenta.
His second of distraction is long enough for her to try for a headbutt.
Oh, Jason likes this girl. She’s spunky.
Unfortunately for her, she only manages to brain herself on the wonderfully protective helmet Jason chose for that exact reason. He barely feels the impact; Blondie yelps and goes slack in his hold, momentarily stunned.
“Okay, that was ballsy,” he tells her, taking the opportunity to zip-tie her hands. “But you’re done, kid.”
She groans, shakes her head again, clenches her jaw so tightly Jason can practically hear her teeth grinding, but she doesn’t make another attempt to fight him.
“I need--” she mutters, low and garbled through her teeth. “I need --”
“Yeah, I know what you need,” he taunts, angling his hips away from her as she mindlessly grinds back against him. “But you ain’t getting it from me. Maybe I’ll take pity and leave you here, all trussed up for your little pretender boyfriend.”
Even as he says it, he knows he won’t - he still hasn’t seen another soul, and left to her own devices she’s as likely to hurt some poor bystander as she is herself. Jason might be a heartless bastard, but he’s not going to subject innocent people to sexual assault just to be petty.
But Blondie surprises him again, jerking against the hold and shouting, “No!” And, well, that sure catches his interest.
“Aw, what? You on the outs with Little Boy Blunder?”
“Yes,” she hisses, throwing her head back against his shoulder now. Too weak to do more than jostle him a little. “He’s pissed at me, you can’t--”
Jason shakes her a little, just to shut her up. “You don’t get to tell me what I can’t do. But color me interested. What did you do to get on his bad side, exactly?”
Spoiler goes taut again - every muscle in her back pulling so tight so suddenly that it must be painful - and when she speaks, she bites out the single word like it’s a curse.
“Lied.”
“Uh huh.” Interesting. The reaction more than the answer. “About what?”
She thrashes her head uselessly against his shoulder, presses her lips tightly together for as long as she can but it’s like the words are physically torn out of her.
“About being dead, I– I let him think I was dead! Fuck.”
Real interesting.
“You’re the Robin Black Mask talked about offing.”
Jason’d heard there was a girl one there for a hot minute. He hadn’t paid it much interest, besides the fact that Bruce had apparently changed up his recruitment criteria from black haired, blue eyed boys.
“Shoulda guessed. Stealing your boyfriend's clothes to impress him, now that’s sweet. Real shame he doesn’t seem all that into it.”
“You’d know all about that, asshole,” she snaps, not an ounce of attempted resistance against whatever drugs are flooding in her system. “Between Robin and Nightwing, I hear you’ve got a real pathetic kink for dressing up as a cry for attention.”
“Okay,” Jason says, done with this line of conversation. He pulls off one glove with his teeth and stuffs it into her mouth. She splutters uselessly against the leather and he smiles sweetly at her. “You’re coming with me.”
Jason is glad his bike is on this end of the park, because she wriggles against him the whole way there - half deliberate struggling and half mindless humping. At least she can’t talk anymore.
Or, more accurately, not until he wants her to.
This is definitely a new type of pollen in Jason’s book - some sort of inhibition reduction? A compulsion agent mixed into the usual aphrodisiac, maybe? - but whatever it is seems to make for a particularly raunchy truth serum at any rate.
He hasn’t decided yet how best to use this unexpected font of information, but he’s sure he’ll think of something. For the moment, though, he needs to concentrate on getting his new buddy somewhere less public.
It’s a little tricky, balancing her weight and disarming the security on his bike single-handed, but he gets her on the thing without dropping her. Good enough.
She shamelessly rubs herself down against the seat, moaning wordlessly around his glove, and, hm. Is that getting worse? That’s more like the pollen response he’s used to; heightened libido and - he twists his arm to press his bare wrist to her forehead - yeah, she’s burning up.
Hopefully getting off will drop her fever enough that she won’t die. Wouldn’t want Bruce to pin that on him, after all.
There’s a safehouse in Gotham Heights that he won’t be too annoyed about burning. Jason can ask his questions, and then leave her there safe and secure with her fingers. Or a dildo, if he’s feeling satisfied with her answers. Maybe even send B a nice cryptic clue to the coordinates just for kicks.
Spoiler’s control is slipping now, jelly-limbs flopping haphazardly. Jason doesn’t trust her to not fall off the back of the bike, so he slides onto the seat behind her. The suspension creaks with their combined weight.
Wrangling her into place and boxing her in with his thighs and arms is easier than it would be if she weren’t so out of it. It works well enough - she slumps back against his chest, bound hands somewhere between her legs and out of his way.
Unfortunately, it also puts her ass right against his crotch.
The second the engine roars to life, she’s squirming down against the vibrations. Even through their gear, she’s plush and soft against him and, Jesus fucking Christ, Jason is glad his safehouse is only a ten minute drive away.
Ten minutes is apparently way more than Spoiler needs in her current state. It takes less than three for her grinding to pick up enough to become a distraction, and less than five for her to orgasm - whole body shuddering, throwing her head back against Jason’s shoulder and panting heavily through her nose, right against the audio receivers of his helmet.
Fuck.
Jason focuses very very hard on not crashing into a wall.
Thankfully, she goes mostly boneless after that. The overwhelming heat of her is still pressed all up against his front, and the slightly crackly sound of her breath is filtering through to his ears, but at least she stops wriggling. The reprieve lasts long enough for him to carry her into the apartment and drop her on the couch.
Spoiler grunts, shuffles herself so she’s mostly sitting upright, sprawled loosely against the backrest. More cognizant now that she’s burned through some of the pollen, if Jason had to guess. But it’s likely to start building again soon, if the pattern is anything like it used to be.
As if to prove his point, Spoiler starts fumbling for her suit zippers with her still-tied hands. Her face is flushed, her forehead shiny with sweat. Her lips are very very red where she’s moaning incoherently around Jason’s glove and, look, he’s not made of stone okay. He’s definitely chubbing up in his pants a little.
He watches her struggle for a few minutes before he decides to take pity.
“Promise not to bite, and I’ll take that out,” he offers. She glares at him through long pale eyelashes, but holds herself still while he tugs it out from between her teeth. “Better?”
“No,” she answers, and then immediately looks pissed about it. Like she maybe forgot about the fun little compulsion element to this thing until the truth was literally dragged out of her. “God fucking dammit, I’m so fucking hot!”
“Wow, the ego on you,” Jason mocks, but the way she’s rocking her hips in little circles against the couch cushions is undeniably pretty damn hot. Her hands are still scrambling uselessly at her suit. “How about a little game of you answer all my burning questions and I’ll maybe help you undress before your brain melts out of your skull ?”
He’s not sure what reaction he’s expecting, but it’s not her throwing her head back to laugh at him. It makes her chest heave and she abandons her search for fastening to start pawing at her tits. While laughing.
It’s ridiculous and kind of endearing, and it has Jason fighting to keep his face straight even under his helmet.
“What’s the joke, Chuckles?”
“You,” she says, and yeah, he really should have anticipated that response. Sue him if he’s a little distracted.
“How so?”
“I haven’t been with the bats for months. I can’t tell you anything you don’t already know!” The humor in her voice tapers off into a breathy growl. Pollen must be cresting again, she’s clearly getting frustrated.
“Oh, I wouldn’t sell yourself short,” he says, tapping the chin of the helmet in mock-thoughtfulness. “Don’t know if you heard, but I’ve been out of town a while myself. Maybe you can fill me in on what I missed.”
It must not be enough of a question to trigger the compulsion, because instead of answering she surprises him again.
“Yeah, I know who you are, Jason.”
The way she says his name, half-scoff half-moan, makes his spine tingle.
“Oh, you think so, do you?”
“Yes, I do,” she glares at him, answering the question with the bare minimum. Jason is begrudgingly impressed with the malicious compliance, in the state she’s in.
Her face is very red, sweat dripping into her eyes. He should probably cool her down a bit before she drops dead of heat exhaustion.
“If you knew me so well,” Jason says, reaching down slowly to pull his knife. He makes a show of flicking it between his fingers just because. “You’d be more frightened. Daddy didn’t warn you I’m a killer?”
“He’s not my daddy,” she snaps, which is an interesting part of that sentence to focus on. Or maybe Jason is projecting. Doesn’t matter. “And I don’t care about killing those scumbags.”
Jason steps closer, trails the flat edge down the back of one hand and up the other. Spoiler’s pupils are already blown wide with arousal, but he thinks he catches a momentary flicker of fear in her eyes when he slides the blade between her wrists.
“Really?” he asks, low and dangerous.
If the fear was there at all, she tamps it down quickly enough for him to doubt it. She holds eye contact with blank lenses of his helmet, and brazenly yanks her hands down against the knife until the zip-tie snaps. Bold. Reckless.
Jason loves it.
“Really,” she answers, already working to unfasten her suit. “Crime dropped all across the East End when you were in control. Shame you dropped us nobodies again the second you got the chance to hash out your issues with your daddy.”
“Fuck you, I didn’t–”
“No fuck you,” she yells, looking up from where she’s peeling the soaked spandex down her torso to glare fiercely at him. “I work the Narrows, asshole. You know how much that power vacuum fucked us up over there? Do you care?”
“I–”
“Shut up,” she bites, with such ferocity that he actually does. “I need to get off again before I fucking melt. If you’re leaving, now’s your shot. If you’re staying, lose the stupid helmet.”
Jason does take his helmet off, for the sole purpose of making sure she can see him roll his eyes.
“This stupid helmet is why I’m not the one clawing out of my own skin right now, Blondie.”
She finally kicks her suit off her legs and, dang, girl sure commits to the bit - her underwear is also purple; a lighter shade of lilac everywhere except the dark wet patch where her panties are soaking.
“Maybe you should take notes.”
“Maybe you should shut the fuck up,” she says, unhooking the front clasp of a very heavy duty sports bra.
Her breasts spill free, gorgeous pink flush all down her chest. She tugs her nipples into taut little peaks. Sweat is gathered on the teasing ledges of her collarbones. Jason kinda wants to lick it off.
Spoiler grabs herself through her soaked panties with a shameless moan.
“I can’t, I can’t,” she pants. “Last chance to go.”
She trails her fingers across her pussy through the wet fabric, teasing herself even now, and Jason edges forward, transfixed. He’s only ever been with one woman, one nowhere close to his own age, and this girl is nothing at all like Talia.
Something in him itches to catalog the differences, but he keeps his voice carefully bored. “It’s my safehouse sweetheart. You can’t make me leave.”
“So predictable,” she snorts. Then she finally dips her fingers into her panties and throws her head back in a half-moan half-snarl, like some feral thing. Jason kind of wants to see what it’s like when she bites. “If you’re staying, stop talking and do something useful with your mouth.”
And if that’s not an invitation, Jason doesn’t know what is.
“Predictable?” he says, dropping to his knees in front of her. He can smell her, salt sweat and musky sweetness. “I’ll show you predictable.”
He presses his tongue to the fabric, right over that obscene wet spot, the evidence of her earlier pleasure, and she bucks up against his mouth. She tastes as good as she smells, god .
“Oh, fuck, fuck, please,” she doesn’t hesitate to grab his hair, pulling tight, and fuck , that goes right to his dick.
Her strong thighs are glorious wrapped around his ears, smooth skin slippery with sweat. It feels like she could squeeze them tight and snap his neck at any moment, and maybe that thought shouldn’t be getting him hard but here he is.
Now is so not the time for introspection. Jason tugs her soaked panties to the side to get his mouth on her for real and it’s fucking amazing. She’s so wet already, thick and hot on his tongue.
He finds her clit, sucks it between his lips. Her thighs clench around him as she comes with a muffled moan, squirting on his chest a little, and getting her off is exactly as hot as he thought it’d be, fuck.
Jason tries to move back, give the girl some room to catch her breath - Talia always hated feeling overstimulated - but Spoiler clutches at his hair with both hands and holds him in place while she grinds against his face. Jason lets her, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her ass and holding on for dear life.
Christ, he takes back everything he said before; sex pollen is amazing.
Spoiler comes again quickly, riding herself through the full body aftershocks before she hauls him up and away from her swollen red pussy.
Jason is panting almost as much as she is, which is mildly embarrassing. He’s also hard as fucking rock in his cup. He might feel worse about that if Blondie’s hips weren’t still twitching down against the sofa like she still needs more.
She doesn’t seem to be getting the same kind of reprieve between waves anymore, her abdomen heaving as she tries to catch her breath and fails. Jason stays on his knees, nuzzles at the fine hair low on her stomach and looks up to meet her eyes across the gorgeous length of her body with her juices and a smirk on his lips.
“Predictable, huh?”
“Yeah,” she groans, half a laugh and half something like barely disguised frustration. “Never met a Robin that knew how to walk away from a challenge. Myself included.”
Jason blows a raspberry against her navel, but she’s not exactly wrong. It’s right up there in the manifesto, just between chatty and flexible.
“Bet you’d look real damn good in the green and scalies,” he says, slipping his fingers between her folds to tease at her entrance. He grins into her abdomen when he feels her gush at the thought. “And, speaking of Robins; how am I ranking so far?”
Spoiler slaps a hand over her mouth to muffle whatever she says, but he doesn’t even care because that’s answer enough. Jason grins wider, slides two fingers into her as a reward.
She’s hot and wet and soft, clutching at him when he draws back to thrust back in, God. She keens low in her throat, and grinds down against his hand.
Heat pools low in Jason’s belly, wraps tight around his spine, and fuck, he needs to get out of his goddamned cup. He fumbles his pants open one-handed, pulls his jock strap aside and can’t bite down the groan of relief when he wraps his hand around his dick.
“Fuck,” he breathes, gathering the precum on his fingers and stroking it down his shaft.
Jason doesn’t get more than two strokes in before Spoiler kicks him hard in the shoulder, and he has to pull his hands away from both of them just to catch himself, shit.
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” she growls, dropping off the sofa and into his lap. She grinds down on his thigh, the wet heat of her soaking through the bunched fabric of his pants. “You don’t get to come yet.”
Spoiler shoves him down by the shoulders, yanks his pants roughly down to his knees, and then sits right on his cock without so much as an if you please.
It’s ridiculously fucking hot.
(Okay. Maybe he is a little predictable.)
She braces herself on his chest as she fucks herself down on him, so fucking wet that all he can hear is the obscene sound of her. It makes his face flush with more than arousal.
Fingers tangling in his shirt pull it tight, dragging the rough kelvar-weave against his nipples in a deliciously tingly way. Her tits bounce beautifully as she moves, and the contrast between her exposed chest and his fully covered one makes this feel somehow even more erotic.
Jason grabs her thighs and holds on tight while she uses him like a sex toy, and it probably shouldn’t make that heat curl tight in his stomach but it sure fucking does, damn.
“So good, so good, fuck, yes,” she’s moaning, and it’s not aimed at him but Christ if the praise doesn’t wind him up tighter. “Fuck, fuck , yes, God--”
Her cunt spasms around him and her manicured nails cut sharply into the flesh of his pecs. Jason’s body sparks lighting between those two points of contact, and he’s coming embarrassingly quickly and he doesn’t even care.
Spoiler collapses down on top of him, heavy and grounding, panting hot against his neck. Jason can feel her twitching around his still-hard dick, warm and wet and amazing.
“Well then,” he says, and sue him if it’s a little smug. “Now that was a proper introduction, Spoiler.”
“Steph,” she mumbles into his shoulder. Jason did know that, vaguely, but he feels a little thrill of pride that she’s offered him that kind of trust. And he didn’t even have to ask. “When your dick is inside me, you can call me Steph.”
“Sure, I can do that, Steph. You wanna stay on the floor for round two, or…?”
“Oh my god,” Spoiler - Steph - groans. Her voice is exasperated, but her hips are rocking again. “Are you gonna talk the whole time?”
“Probably,” he admits, squeezing her waist. She huffs a laugh and it makes her cunt contract around him, fuck. “It’s part of my charm. Yours too I bet, Robin.”
“Fuck,” she pulses, gushing slick - guess he's not the only one that's predictable - and, yeah, Jason is absolutely not getting soft. She pushes herself up enough to meet his eyes, and the fire in them makes his cock twitch. “If I kiss you, will you shut up?”
Jason grins wider, bounces her in his lap.
“Dunno. Maybe you should try it and find out.”