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ms-nesbit · 1 year

Text

Sugar and Spice

a jason todd x reader fanfic

Rating: 18+ (minors dni)

word count: 5.4k

warnings/notes: mention of trauma and abuse, Jason Todd isn't Red Hood, explicit content, smut, panic attack

summary: jason is a baker with cake, and y/n a horticulturist with a chance to sow her wild oats.

AO3

“And would you like that for here or to go?”

The streets of Gotham buzzed with citizens despite the imminent crime, visitors entering and leaving famous Zia’s, a bakery home to Gotham’s finest breads and pastry sweets. Inside the confined space displayed an array of baked goods, its floor littered with customers clutching their tong and red plastic tray.

In a rouge apron dusted with crumbs and splotches of icing and egg, Jason tended to the confectionery inventory, carrying a large metal pan holding marranitos (Mexican cookies baked in the shape of a pig) on one hand, and a smaller metal pan containing sourdough bread on his other. The dark, robust waft of molasses and ginger filled the air, catching the attention of some of Zia’s more loyal patrons.

“That fresh?!” one blurted.

Jason vaguely smiled behind him before attending to replacing the pan on its designated shelf. “Always.”

As much as Zia’s advertised its pastries, certain Gothamites - single ones with more time than they should have been allotted - spread merry news of eye candy in the shop, drawing more attention than Zia’s owner, Aurelio, expected.

One, a man named Ed, passed a whisper to y/n, who worked nearby at the Gotham Nursery as a horticulturist: “You know, y/n, if you’re ever looking for a snack for your sweet tooth, you could just stop by.”

His expression faltered, as if he was holding something back, but y/n disregarded it as she loaded his plants onto the trunk of his 4x4, and sent him on his way with a brief, “I’ll be sure. As always, thank you for coming, Eddie.”

She hadn’t given the recommendation much thought until on her lunch, when she stopped by Zia’s and stepped into the bumbling bluster of business. Then, as Jason emerged from the kitchen of the bakery with hands full of crumbly tricolor polvorones and loaves of rye bread, his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth in concentration and tee shirt sleeves rising up just enough for all to see his toned biceps, y/n understood Ed’s undertones.

“Excuse me.” a voice from behind snapped y/n’s attention, causing her to turn around to a stern, tight-lipped woman blinking at her. “Would you mind moving over so I could go in there?” she pointed to the shelves y/n blocked, her question seeming more of a kind demand rather than an inquiry.

Nodding feverishly as she stepped aside, y/n bumped into a sturdy tall figure, a string of apologies leaving her lips before her eyes met a pair of hazel, a mix of greens and grays swimming in his irises.

“I’m-I’m so, so, sorry.” y/n was captivated, distracted by the baker’s face shape as he stared down at her with an understanding grin.

“It’s okay, it happens all the time.” the man swiped loose sugar granules from his apron, prompting y/n to take her gaze away from his face and onto the mess of cinnamon sugar on the floor.

“Oh, jeez, do you need me to—”

The man waved a hand in y/n’s direction to calm her down. “Again, it happens a lot. Are you new here?” He used his free arm to catch Aurelio’s attention, who passed him a broom and dustpan to begin cleaning the faint piles of sugar.

Y/n shook her head. “Yeah, I’m not used to this kind of foot traffic.” She squatted on the ground and helped collect particles off the ground with her hands.

Brushing her pile into the maroon dustpan, he glanced at her work uniform. “I didn’t know that Gotham had a botanical garden.” He looked at y/n, his thick, pearl strands of hair falling from his hair net. Y/n felt the stare, and had to bow her head to hide the passing blush tickling her skin.

“You should stop by sometime.” Y/n shrugged when she and the man stood on their feet, disregarding the crowd staggering impatiently around them. “I could analyze your soil’s pH, or even recommend some plants depending on your living situation.”

Y/n watched the man’s adam’s apple bob before he spoke. “And what about a five-hundred square feet flat?”

“There are ways to accommodate the situation if you’re willing. It just takes the right pair of hands and mindset.” y/n gave the man a smile, to which he reciprocated, his soft skin forming ripples from it.

She swallowed the warmth she felt in her stomach, an unfamiliar sensation she whisked away as she followed the man to the checkout counter. His back turned to her, y/n was able to take in his other features: his broad shoulders, appearing almost heavy on his torso, and the merlot tee shirt lazily tucked under the waistband of his washed jeans, which were partially ripped along parts of his left knee and right ankle. Y/n blinked away her urge to follow the natural curvature of his legs up to his ass, though she would admit that her id was pleased with the crumbs of image it viewed.

“Do you think you could show me what I could do? Doc has told me that I need to, uh, spruce up my space.” The man rested his hands on the counter, marginally leaning over it to inch closer to y/n in flirtation.

Y/n couldn’t meet his hazel eyes, unwilling to be enchanted by whatever undertones he was trying to communicate; though, to her dismay, he did attract her, even with the hair net clumping his seemingly soft hair in place, and the poorly executed pun. So she obliged, just a bit. “I work today till six, if you’re able.” one of her shoulders bounced, as if she felt apathetic about his advances.

But he, unbeknownst to y/n, was stubborn. “I can manage.” he wrinkled his nose playfully at her, eyes flickering between her blank stare and her suppressed grin. “My name is Jason, by the way.”

Jason. Like the killer. “Nice to meet you. Here’s the address.” y/n slid a business card across the counter in Jason’s direction, back beginning to turn. “I’ll see you there.”

“Wait, I didn’t catch your name.” Jason called out across the store to her, unbothered by the several customers stopping to look for y/n.

With a hand to the door handle, pushing the heavy door open, y/n looked over her shoulder, said flatly, “I guess you’ll have to find out.” and left with a few strides, disappeared from Jason’s sight.

“I’m gonna find out alright.” Jason murmured, a corner of his lips turning into a grin.

—

The Gotham Nursery began winding down in visitors, employees cloaking its temperature-sensitive annuals with thick tarp as they prepared for the chilly night ahead. Y/n checked her watch, then the nursery’s entrance, a habit she built as the day passed. Was I too passive? She thought as she hauled mulch across the store lot. Did he forget about me? She mused as she jotted down plant observations in the greenhouse.

Y/n indulged the information about her encounter with Jason to her coworker, Xoe, who was more than enthused about it. Each passing hour, Xoe would cross paths with y/n, bugging her about whether or not she had seen Jason.

It wasn’t until five minutes until closing when Jason arrived, parking his sleek, rumbling motorcycle in a compact spot. A couple of the employees noticed him, and rolled their eyes in frustration, mistakenly thinking that he was a customer, not y/n’s visitor.

Y/n locked herself in the nursery’s greenhouse with her choi sum mustard leaves, using a dainty stick to lift the heavy leaves of the plant. She wrote down the subtle changes in the plant’s behavior, noting the thickness of the leaves after incorporating iron-rich soil.

“Y/n?” Xoe asked, peeking through the polycarbonate door, evoking y/n to look up from her work. “Someone named Jared is here to see you.” Xoe then gave y/n a wink, intentionally mistaking Jason’s name.

“Sure, he can come in. Thanks, Xoe.”

“No problem.” Xoe said, opening the door fully for Jason to allow entry, before throwing y/n a suggestive look and shutting the door.

Distracted by the array of plants both on the ground and overhead, Jason tread carefully through the path of the greenhouse. He raked his fingers through his hair as he stopped to observe the vine dangling from a hanging planter, avoiding touching it in fear that he would somehow kill the plant. Y/n gawped at his actions, amused by the conscientiousness of his every move in spite of his tall, muscular frame.

Jason, appearing diverted, used his peripherals to glance at y/n, who sat on a wooden chair on the other side of the greenhouse. Her attire was similar to their first encounter, except she rolled up the sleeves of her forest long-sleeved top, and wore patterned leather gardening gloves. He admired the contrast of her head to the overhead vines coming down around her, the hearty heart-shaped leaves forming a convex halo. She was breathtaking in her relaxed state, and it was clear to him that the greenhouse was a sanctuary, a treehouse she escaped to when she sought solace.

“Didn’t think you’d make it, Jason.” y/n held her notebook and pen in her hands as she spoke, still working at her scientific examination notes.

“Uh, yeah,” Jason mumbled, peering at a distant crimson flower in bloom. “I had to clean up after close. This is where you work?” He looked up at the opaque ceiling of the greenhouse, in awe of the varieties of plants with which he surrounded himself.

Y/n nodded. “Most of the time, yeah. It’s my job to basically make sure the plants are at an optimal growing point so that we could use the info to pass on to customers or vendors.”

Jason sensed the formality in her tone, humbling his ego before he returned, “And you like it?”

Y/n crossed her arms at the question, obviously peeved. “Of course. I don’t know why I would be here, or go through all the schooling, if I didn’t.”

Jason pressed his lips together, remorseful of the offense she took at his inquiry. “Sorry, I should have figured.”

“No, I…I get it all the time, honestly. People are so surprised when I tell them I like it, as if it’s some boring thing.” Y/n rambled, full of thought as she flipped through vague memories of conversations she had with others. “I’ve always loved nature, but not aesthetically, if that makes sense. It’s a science to keep these plants alive and thriving after all the damage we’ve done, and I don’t think I have to keep justifying it.” she clicked her tongue at the end of her statement, eyes looking off to the side in vexation.

Jason rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort. “I get the same comments about my baking. I mean, don’t get me wrong - it’s not nearly as lengthy as the schooling you went through - but I find happiness punching the fuck out of air bubbles in the dough.”

The joke emitted a chuckle from y/n, breaking the tension in the space that could have been otherwise excused by the high humidity. Humor was a strength of Jason’s, and he used it to his advantage in times like these when he found his foot in his mouth, or his tongue in a knot. He wanted to start over, rerun his words smoothly through his head so he could properly express himself without offending y/n again.

Instead, he offered baguettes. “I brought something we could both have in here, if we can have it.” he pointed to the backpack strap on his shoulder, and began to maneuver his backpack to his hands so he could unveil the crispy logs of cooked dough. He handed one baguette to y/n, who removed her gloves to accept the gift, before he took a bite out of one himself.

“You make these?” y/n asked, chewing on a piece. Mouth full of bread, Jason simply nodded. “I have to say, as much as I like plants, I think I would gain a lot of weight if I could bake this well.”

The compliment made Jason beam, squirreling chewed bread in his mouth causing his cheeks to round. After he swallowed, he responded, “Yeah, I get that a lot. Though I don’t think you’d look any bit different with more.” his eyes scanned y/n’s body evocatively.

Y/n’s cheeks tinted, covering her mouth respectfully as she spoke. “It’s really fresh for stale bread.” she gestured to an empty seat beside her. “You wanna sit here?”

Jason shook his head, plopping himself down on the seat before he turned his body to face her. “Oh, I made it before I left.” Jason remarked nonchalantly, taking another bite out of the bread.

Y/n stared at Jason as he ate his workmanship, giggling at him. He gave her a doe-eyed expression, confused by her mirth. “What?”

“Nothing, I’ve just never seen someone so passionate about eating bread.” Her eyes gleamed at him, smile radiant as she spoke. Jason’s chest burned when she passed him the look, mesmerized by her appearance. He grew accustomed to the constant comments about his looks from Gothamites - and the unfortunate harassment or assault that would take place by a select few - but he followed his instinct when he felt something different about y/n; whether it was the way she presented herself, or the way her eyes shaped into crescents as she smiled, he was absolutely enamored by her, and wanted to explore all that made her content so he could replicate it for her.

They sat together, knee to knee, gazing at each other. Y/n placed her bread on the table and her hands on her lap, drawing Jason’s attention away from her face. His eyes snapped up, though, unwilling to be perceived as perverted, or his intentions impure. Y/n suppressed her temptation to cave in to him, fingernails digging into the skin of her thighs as she desperately tried to keep them to herself.

But his skin was as firm as his voice, five o’clock shadow scattered across his cheeks and jawline; his skin creased as he grinned, even the slightest, a wrinkle forming along the edges of his mouth. Y/n wondered what his lips tasted like - were they as tender as they appeared? Or were his kisses all-encompassing, conveying what words couldn’t describe?

Y/n wanted to find out, but she hesitated: she didn’t want to hurt again; she didn’t want to wither at her roots like the neglected plants she studied, slumping over in her seat as she felt the remaining cells in her body seize. Had the encounter with Jason been years ago, y/n would have already been all over him, straddling his lap - she was much more daring then, naive of the darkness that could ensue.

Instead, she glued her hands to herself. Jason noticed her stare plummet from joyous to cold, her eyes glossy as she blinked away what dark thoughts laid behind them. He placed a hand over hers, thumb stroking the underside of her palm in an attempt to bring her back to the present.

“Sorry.” her voice sobered up, ignoring the display of affection Jason committed.

Shaking his head once, he responded, “Am I doing something wrong? I’ll scoot my chair back and keep my hand away if you want—”

“No, no.” y/n hastily said, unaware of what she presented with her response. “It’s not you, don’t worry.”

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

The question caused y/n’s heart to rise, excited by the thought. She nodded and leaned forward, cupping his neck as they closed the gap between them and pressed their lips together softly, y/n’s nose filling with a mixture of the leather of his jacket and clean yeast from the bread. Jason instinctively brought his hands to y/n’s face, holding it as he sharply inhaled into the kiss. He was pleasantly surprised by the action, parting his lips as he wanted to deepen the kiss.

But y/n pulled away, and then turned her body from Jason, attempting to conceal the blush creeping up her neck.

Initially worried about crossing a boundary with y/n, Jason noticed the tint in her skin, and grinned, cupping her chin and turning her head to look at him. “You don’t need to hide from me, hun. I don’t know what you went through, but I won’t hurt you like that.” he assured y/n, tone warm and disarming. His thumb brushed her cheek, eyes distracted by her beauty.

“It’s y/n.” she informed him distractedly. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you.”

“Y/n.” he repeated, captivated by her eyes as she grinned softly at him. “I can make you a pinky promise that I won’t be a threat, but I’m not sure if a ten year-old’s logic resonates with you.”

It did. Y/n held her pinky out in between them. “I need something to ground me.”

Jason linked their pinkies, pulling them to his chest. “Y/n: I swear I won’t hurt you. Pinky promise.” y/n’s eyes searched for his other hand, which laid on his knee. No crossed fingers. Good.

“Can we go back to kissing please?” her brows furrowed, slightly embarrassed by her request. It was Jason’s turn to answer with a kiss, this time heated and impatient. His lips nibbled on hers before dragging a tongue along her bottom lip, evoking a moan from y/n. Jason’s hand held y/n’s as they deepened their kiss, mouths opening in an attempt for Jason to draw another moan from her. He used his free hand to tangle in y/n’s hair, pulling her closer than she already was.

When y/n mimicked his actions, she tugged lightly at his hair, causing him to groan and shiver. She tore her lips from Jason’s, noticing how his were already swollen despite the little contact she had with them. “You like that?” She quirked a brow.

“A little more than I should.” Jason smirked back, biting his bottom lip. He hissed when y/n tugged at his hair again, this time harder and deliberate. “Keep that up, doll, and I’ll have you bent over on this table.”

Y/n chuckled, allowing her id to take over. “Oh really? And what else would I have to do to be blessed with that opportunity?”

“I don’t think you want to know.” Jason pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down hard. His eyes ran over y/n’s body slowly, taking in the view as y/n uncrossed her legs. He wondered if he should just take her here - an image of y/n in pleasure, her brows knitted and mouth agape, clouded Jason’s attention, blood rushing to his dick. It took a moment for him to notice that y/n’s hand was trembling in his hair, and when he did acknowledge it, the corrupt thoughts disappeared completely. “Are you okay?”

Y/n stopped herself, pulling her hand away from his hair and chewing on her lip. “Yeah, sorry. Dunno what got into me.” she laughed humorlessly.

“You know,” Jason started, hand rushing back to her cheek, “we could just go to my place and talk. We don’t need to do anything sexual, if you’re not up to that.”

The proposition nearly brought tears to y/n’s eyes. It was eons since someone considered her that much - she usually had to hold her ground herself. All she could release from her clogged throat was a faltered affirmation, and she rose to her feet, collecting her work and returning them to their designated area.

Extending an elbow for her to take, Jason guided them through the greenhouse and back outside, holding the door open for y/n as she strolled through. His eyes were glued to her, watching her reaction to all of the plant life around them; he was in awe of how much knowledge she had of them, informing him of pieces of trivia about random plants they passed.

When they reached his motorcycle parked in the lot, his shoulders slouched. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you that I ride.” Ride, y/n thought to herself, eyes examining the vehicle. “Do you still want me to take you, or do you want to take your car, or…”

Y/n wriggled her lips in apathy. “I take the bus, so I think this would be the more logical option.”

Without skipping a beat, Jason offered y/n his helmet, lifting a leg over the bike seat to straddle it and waiting for her to secure her helmet before seating behind him. She snaked her arms around his waist, locking her fingers together over his navel, the touch producing heat on Jason’s stomach. He looked back, waiting for a response from y/n; when she gave him a simple thumbs-up, he turned the key to the ignition and shifted into neutral, manually backing out of the parking space with his legs before taking off from the lot with a thunderous roll, the reverberation heard from miles away.

Although it was y/n’s first ride as a passenger on a motorcycle, she was tranquil, snug behind Jason with her fingers barely tracing what she assumed to be muscle lines along his abdomen; although it wasn’t Jason’s first time having a passenger on his bike, he was particularly cautious, downshifting early and even stalling his engine trying to do so.

Once they arrived at y/n’s apartment - with directions from y/n - Jason parked the bike on the street adjacent to the complex. He helped y/n off of her seat, and held her hand as she led them to her space on the second floor.

“And this is it.” y/n announced half-heartedly when she opened the door, entering into the kitchen of the grand apartment. Jason was silent as he inspected the decor, stopping occasionally at framed anatomical prints of plants. As he wandered into the living room, he spotted a wooden tube radio resting on the nightstand beside the couch. He observed its specifications, murmuring incoherently as he studied the device.

“You like it?” Y/n asked, handing Jason a can of sparkling water before she sat down on the leather couch.

Jason nodded. “I haven’t seen one of these in forever. Makes me feel kind of nostalgic, to be honest.”

Y/n tucked her legs under her knees, taking a sip from her can. “That’s why I bought it. M’not much of an audiophile, but I like the crisp sound of these. Plus, usually when guys are over, they think I’m some old lady, and eventually leave me alone.” Her final comment made her chuckle, and Jason grin.

“I guess we’re both old.” he added, winking back at her. Y/n patted the empty space beside her, offering him to sit. “Do you listen to a lot of music on here, or just the AM talk shows?”

Y/n’s smile widened. “A bit of both. If I have the free time, I prefer podcasts or audiobooks, which I can project through there, but y’know.”

“But what?” Seated next to y/n, Jason nudged her playfully.

She shrugged. “I dunno. Kinda gets busy sometimes.” her response was sad, as if she had no control over the time she spent, but Jason understood that it was relatively normal for an adult.

He dropped his grin in response, acclimating to the shift in tone. “I’m like that too. Though I don’t remember a time when I didn’t have a lot to take care of.”

Y/n’s forehead creased in worry. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Jason breathed deeply, contemplating whether or not he should elaborate. “I didn’t really have the parents of the year growing up, and once I was adopted, I still had a bunch of responsibilities. When I think back to it, it feels like I missed out on a lot.”

Y/n nodded in agreement. “I get that. I…something happened, and I basically had to grow up quicker than some other people my age. I can’t really…” her voice trailed off, drowning in emotion. “It’s hard for me to feel normal.”

Hands beginning to tremble, y/n balled them into fists. Jason placed his hands over hers, squeezing them lightly to draw attention away from her thoughts. “Hey, I’m here. It’s okay.” he uttered, lavender softness in his voice. “Is it okay if I held you?” he asked, to which y/n nodded. Jason wrapped his long arms around her, pulling her tight to his chest. There, y/n felt guarded, safe, as if his arms were hardy tree branches that couldn’t be easily torn; she detached his heartbeat, steady but firm. Each of his features soothed her, rocked her back to the present, as he’d hoped.

He kissed her head, watering her otherwise malnourished body; Jason’s face focused on her, a tall, broad sunflower in need of nutrients facing the sun. She replenished him somehow, something neither of them could quite pinpoint, but enjoyed nonetheless.

Fingertips following the veins along Jason’s arm, y/n discerned a wanting similar to what she experienced at the greenhouse. She looked up at Jason, who was already gazing down at her, and gave him a look: please kiss me.

And for all that he could, Jason enthusiastically obliged, dipping his head to crash his lips to y/n’s. They both breathed into the kiss, hands fumbling to secure themselves in their embrace as their kiss rushed, tongues meeting briefly before disappearing again. Jason was the first to moan into the kiss this time, almost a whimper of desolate desire.

Y/n’s fingers spread, palms flat against Jason’s chest as she pushed him down onto the couch, readjusting to straddle his lap without breaking the kiss. His hands slipped underneath y/n’s top, nails grazing against her skin. He pushed the top up to her chest, breaking the kiss to allow her to pull it overhead and toss it aside.

Before returning to the kiss, Jason gawked at y/n’s chest, surprised by her bare breasts. “Holy shit.” he whined, licking his lips. He tilted forward to flick his tongue on her sensitive nub before kneading her breasts with his hands, occasionally leaning in to suck and lick her nipples. Y/n relaxed her shoulders and let out a soft moan and grind her hips against his, causing Jason to buck his up instinctively.

Their movements were restricted by their clothing though, and y/n knew that as she hopped off Jason to shimmy her pants off, panties down with it, and shook Jason’s jeans off as well before returning back to her stance on him. “Condom?” she murmured nervously.

Jason pointed to his jeans. “Here, lemme put em on.” he reached over to his pockets, pulling one out and tearing open the wrapper. Y/n watched, eyes dark with wanton, as he rolled the condom onto his thick, hard erection.

Y/n repositioned herself on his lap, lowering herself on him. She hissed at the contact, unfamiliar with the girth stretching her walls. When her hips were flush with his, y/n remained still, acclimating to the sensation; Jason, however, tremored underneath y/n, using all of his strength to restrain himself from thrusting up into y/n. He craved the noises she emitted, and anything that would drive her to ecstasy, but had to wait. His hands moved to her thighs, grasping at them and awaiting her signal for him to move.

Instead, y/n’s hips rose and fell, rocking slowly. They both moaned at the motion, unsatisfied by the gradualness of her hips. One of Jason’s hands moved to her ass, guiding her hips to angle itself perfectly.

“Oh, god.” Y/n gasped, the different angle granting Jason’s cock to brush against the base of her cervix. Jason’s grip on her thigh and ass tightened, letting out a guttural moan.

“Can I…?” Jason asked between pants, self-control wavering. Y/n nodded feverishly, barely containing herself as she steadied herself on Jason’s chest. He began thrusting up into her in the same angle, both hands gripping her hips as his pace quickened.

“Fuck, you’re so good.” Jason whimpered, eyes laser-focused on y/n. The sounds of skin-on-skin slapping, along with pants and intermittent, pornographic moans, escaped them and into the room. Jason wanted more, more, more as he continued to pistol his hips up, quickly popping a thumb into his mouth to moisten it before rubbing it on y/n’s clit in hasty yet intricate circles.

The motion evoked y/n’s orgasm, her core hot as she let out a silent scream. Her nails dug into the fabric of Jason’s shirt, sharp enough to leave marks on his bare chest, as he guided her through her high. Before she could calm down though, Jason picked up his pace, this time chasing his own high as he relentlessly thrusted up into her pussy. In moments, y/n was thrown into another orgasm, body tingling as she whined loudly into the air.

Her walls, like velvety petals, tightened around Jason’s cock, which was already begging for release. Every moan and word barely leaving her lips was as gospel to him, bringing him closer, higher, until-

“Y/n, I’m gonna come, fuck.” Jason sobbed, neck red and forehead covered in beads of sweat. His hair stuck to his head, stray strands bouncing with his thrusts as they grew sloppy, desperate, frantic for him. “Y/n, y/n,” he repeated as hell broke loose, his vision blurring as he sharply thrusted up into y/n, coming with a loud cry. His hips stuttered, grip on her hips loosening.

Y/n rode the high with him, watching as his brows furrowed, eyes fluttered shut, and swollen pink lips form into an ‘o’ shape. Each profanity that left his lips were a secret he could no longer hold, and she was so happy to indulge in them.

Minutes passed before Jason picked y/n up, laying her on the couch as he stood up. “Do you know where the bathroom is?” he asked innocently, cheeks azalea. After y/n pointed to the nearest ajar door in the hall, Jason disappeared for a moment before returning, towel in hand and condom disposed of.

He kneeled beside the couch, gingerly patting the towel on y/n’s thighs, cleaning up any residual juices that were released. The sight of her wet pussy made his cock twitch again, but he knew better than to entertain the thought, gently wiping away the wetness on the crevices along her ass and thighs. Y/n glanced down at him, heart warm as he finished cleaning up. “Is there anything I can get you, hun?” Jason smiled, eyes glistening. If her legs weren’t tired, y/n would have sat up and smooched him right there.

But she shook her head. “I think I’m okay. Thank you.”

Jason took her hand in his, holding it up to his lips before he placed a tender kiss to her knuckle. “Of course, Princess. You’re a flower, too, y’know.”

The compliment made y/n blush, skin rising with goosebumps. She hadn’t been pampered like this…ever. It was foreign, and the realization triggered a sympathetic nervous response.

Y/n sat up in worry, drawing her hand quickly from Jason. He frowned at her, apprehensive that he caused any offense. “I’m sorry - do you need some space? I can get going, if you need to.”

First waiting for a response, Jason noticed y/n’s eyes darting from side to side, spiraling into the dark trench. He scooted closer, pulling y/n’s head to his, their foreheads pressed together. “Deep breath, doll.” he cooed, “I’ve got you.”

And he did. His hands held y/n’s delicately, thumb brushing her skin as they breathed together in the apartment, his voice shining light onto her focus like a spring sunrise after a seemingly interminable winter.

The words pollinated her soul, bringing her to life in ways she hadn’t felt before. Jason’s skin was calloused, wrinkled, with scarring near the knuckle and palms, but y/n felt comforted by them. And she emerged from the dark trench, opening her eyes to find the sunflower staring back at her with a soft expression and a softer grin to welcome her.

And y/n finally felt like she found home.

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