Movie Magic
jason todd x gn!reader
summary: a cozy movie marathon date with jason todd
tags: fluff, kissing, minor reference to canonical character death
rated teen | wc: 1k
a/n: inspired by an ask from the lovely @orchidsangel
It’s a Saturday morning, and the weekend is stretching wide in front of you. It’s been a long week, so you and Jason have decided to do a movie marathon together instead of going out. The morning starts with breakfast, fresh fruit and real maple syrup drizzled over French toast. Dishes done side by side in the sink, winter sun coming in pale through the window. A few days earlier, when you’d done the grocery shopping, you’d picked up snacks specifically for this day. There’s popcorn and chips, pretzels and M&Ms, licorice and skittles. Each gets put out in their own bowls, ready to be eaten. Then would come building the blanket fort. Moving cushions and the duvet from the bed out into the living room, pulling bedsheets out of the linen closet. While Jason rolls an empty clothing rack out to hold up the blankets, you get the idea to take down some of your fairy lights and put them up in the fort, little pinpricks of light to stop Jason’s fear of small dark spaces from creeping in. It takes all of your decorative throw pillows you had insisted on and Jason had affectionately rolled his eyes at for you both to get comfortable. But it is comfortable, tucked up under Jason’s arm and swaddled in blankets, snack bowls tucked between your hip and the side of the couch.
Jason puts on the first movie, something you both loved as children. You laugh at the same moments, point out your favourite characters and scenes. His ribs knock into yours when he snorts, warm and solid beside you. Jason puts on the sequel, which you both agree is nowhere near as good as the first. Offhandedly you mention that at least the third was better since they brought back the scriptwriter from the first movie and Jason has to press pause. Turns to you jaw slightly open and asks if you’re serious, that there’s a third one, that they made more. The thing is, there was a third movie, only Jason wouldn’t have known. Resurrection and revenge doesn’t really leave a lot of time for catching up on pop culture. You wrap your arms around him tighter, navigate to the next movie and press play. For this one, the two of you are silent. Jason’s eyes are wide and attentive, lips parted in awe. You watch him as much as the movie, drink in his reactions eagerly and the way his arm tightens around your shoulder at the tense moments. The credits start to roll, and still Jason doesn’t say anything.
“So… what did you think?” You ask. He runs his fingers through his hair, looks you in the eye, and goes on one of the most impassioned rants you’ve ever heard him give, and you’ve heard him rant about everything they got wrong in the newest Sense and Sensibility adaptation. He barely stops to breathe between discussing the casting and how surprisingly good the stunts were. He talks himself hoarse until you pass him your soda. That manages to interrupt his flow of thought, and he apologizes sheepishly for getting too caught up in the movie. “S’okay, I like hearing you be passionate. What did you think of the cinematography?” and he’s off again, hands flying through the air as he tries to describe just what parts excited him the most.
It’s his stomach rumbling that interrupts him a second time, causing the two of you to laugh. Lunch gets eaten on the couch, plates carefully balanced on laps. You convince Jason to watch Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, and the look on his face when he gets torn between getting a version of his favourite book with added death jokes and wanting to point out how inaccurate a Regency society faced with the zombie apocalypse is, makes you have to constantly stifle giggles. You take turns after that, introducing each other to different movies as the pale sun slowly moves across the sky. Jason chooses a movie Damian made him watch, which despite the scary moments that have you burying your head in his shoulder, has some of the most beautifully shot scenes you’ve seen in a while. You get into a heated debate over Howl’s Moving Castle, eventually having to agree that book Sophie is more interesting but movie Howl is more dreamy. Jason has to dive for the popcorn bowl when you start yelling at the tv screen for the characters in the next movie to just talk to each other goddamn it! He indulges you when you rant about how most of the time the miscommunication trope is just lazy writing, that if the scriptwriters wanted to get the audience actually invested in the characters then they needed to stop making the climax something so easily fixable. You get so excited when something happens onscreen that you know a behind-the-scenes story about. Poking Jason in the side to make sure he’s listening before launching into an anecdote about how they’re actually only filming on horseback for the long shots, all of the closeups done on fake platforms to make filming easier. Or how the censorship rules of the time meant the director had to find a way for the characters to metaphorically kiss, and that’s why they’re always sharing cigarettes.
It’s beyond time for dinner, but full on snacks and treats, neither of you are feeling hungry yet. You’d introduced Jason to the magic of peanut M&Ms mixed into butter popcorn and you can tell that he’s going to be obsessed for the next while. The credits on the latest movie are rolling, there’s dishes to do and a couch to put back together, but all those things can wait. You look up from where you’re curled up beside him, cozy under the blanket and the weight of his arm, and he’s smiling down at you fondly. It doesn’t take much to stretch up and press your lips to his. He tastes like chocolate and salt and a long lazy afternoon. You can feel the edges of his lips turning up into a smile against yours.
“What was that for?” He murmurs.
“For listening to me ramble. And for introducing me to your favourite things.”
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𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔭𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔲𝔰 ℜ𝔲𝔪𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰
pairing: scene!re2r!Leon & gn!reader.
cws: oral (m. receiving). cringe dialogue :3
an: hii, first fic. let me know if you like it! likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 any comments you'd like to share are welcomed (just don't be too mean pls)
yes i stole this title from depeche mode
The first rule about being scene is never calling yourself scene, duh. Unless someone calls you emo, then yes, you have to set the record straight. Only posers bring attention that they’re scene—a real scene kid doesn’t worry about people knowing they’re scene, they’re too busy collecting monster energy tabs, bright new kandi to show off, or getting ready for their next concert.
Control by Metro Station blares through the small desktop speakers. Volumes maxed but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough, unless you feel the vibrations through your body, it’s never enough. Leon’s sat on your bed, making a new monster’s tab necklace for you. Hello Kitty plushies cover your bed, blankets haphazardly thrown over the mattress, Leon doesn’t mind—he’s too focused on this necklace.
Leon’s the type of guy that parents warn other parents about. The guy’s a danger to society, he’s definitely a satan worshipper. Just listen to that noise that he blasts in his earphones—just screaming pornography and filth is what it is. An eyebrow piercing, spider bites, ears pierced with those spiky colourful studs in them. Skinny jeans so tight, it probably cuts off circulation, band tees, complete with an i heart boobies bracelet, and decked out with rainbow kandi up the arms.
You’re engrossed in updating your MySpace page, looking for the perfect background. With the song playing and Leon focused on his own task, the world sort of melts away.
Until…
“I heard Marilyn Manson got surgery to remove his ribs so he could suck his own dick.”
At first, you think you heard Leon wrong. Why would Marilyn Manson do that?
“What?”
“Marilyn Manson got his ribs removed so he could suck his own dick.”
“Dude, that’s like impossible. If he didn’t have ribs, where would his organs go?”
Leon shrugs. A thin string in one hand, a monster tab in the other as he so carefully places the string through the opening. “Claire told me that Chris told her that.” He says, not even making eye contact with you. “Plus, Chris works for the military or something, he probably has intel on celebrities,” Leon adds, finally tying off the necklace.
You only roll your eyes. Claire and Leon are so gullible. How would that even work? Did he get his whole rib cage removed? How would he walk around? Could the body live without ribs? Why are you even going through the semantics over something that’s clearly not true!?
“Leon, how many times are you going to let Chris play your ass?” You ask with a raised brow. One time Chris sent Leon a chain message that left the poor guy so paranoid, even after he passed the message on to ten other people. He begged you to stay awake with him until 4AM just to make sure nothing bad happened to him.
Another time, Chris sent him a link to a YouTube video, telling him that it was a link to Fall Out Boy’s new single. Leon clicked it, didn’t even think about it, he was just so excited to hear a new Fall Out Boy song!
The moment Leon clicks the link, his computer is locked and a bunch of screamers pop up. Leon shouts and falls back in his chair. “Fuck you, Chris!”
The satisfaction doesn’t come from Leon getting scared by the screamers, it’s just the fact that Leon falls for everything he says without Chris needing to build up his story. Leon just trusts Chris. Chris is the cool older brother Leon never had and he just wants to be as cool as him, does whatever he can to prove it.
The day that Leon stops being gullible is the day that My Chemical Romance will break up.
“I bet you I could suck my dick without getting my ribs removed.”
Of all things to want to prove to you, he wants to prove that he can suck himself off? Sure, you’ll take him up on that bet. And you know just what the prize is.
“A pack of monsters?”
“A pack of monsters.”
“Do you need help?”
Leon’s gaze meet yours, his mouth slightly parted as he takes in your words. His best friend is offering to help him out? Shit, he’d take any attention he could get, really. “Yeah.” He says.
“Just to get me going!” Leon’s quick to add, he’s definitely not interested in his best friend like that. Totally. Hasn’t had a crush on a person since Amy Lee came into the scene.
“Of course.”
Leon’s already pushing the bowl of monster tabs behind him, hands resting on your bed as you walk over to him. It’s not like Leon’s ugly or anything, the opposite in fact. His black hair has red highlights weaved between the strands, the roundest of cheeks, and plump lips. But he’s just a friend, your best friend.
Getting Leon’s jeans down proves to be a challenge, the tight fabric doesn’t want to be pulled off his fat ass. “How’d you even squeeze into these, dude?” You grunt as you finally get the jeans past his thighs. “Oh, just a hop… or a few,” he answers with the shrug of his shoulders.
After successfully removing his skinny jeans, you palm him through his boxers. The sight of them makes you snort, “invader zim boxers?” your voice soft but the teasing lilt isn’t missed by Leon. Leon’s mouth parts to speak but only a moan escapes him as your hand fondles him.
“They’re cool.” His voice strained.
No response from his best friend as they continue to palm him through his boxers. Invader Zim is cool! Everyone has a gir plush, backpack, or hoodie. “It’s cool, right?” Prodding for your approval.
“Mhm.” You’re too occupied with watching Leon’s dick get hard under your simple touches. Sure, you’ve slept with people in the past, but that doesn’t mean that you’re an experienced lover or something. Just seeing a man get turned on because of something you did is just hot—especially when it’s your cute little best friend.
Soon Leon’s boxers are pulled down, exposing his half hard dick, a hiss through his teeth at the sudden change in temperature. Grooming is not a priority for this man, hair just so unkempt—not that it matters to you. A soft kiss pressed on the underside of his length, makes Leon’s body twitch. Very sensitive and not just emotionally either.
Your tongue darts out, a tentative lick up his length. Raccoon eyes watching every expression that Leon makes—which is a lot. His brows are furrowed, his mouth doesn’t know whether to stay open or closed, his own tongue running over his spider bite piercing. Makes you wonder if this is Leon’s first blowjob.
Your tongue swirls around the head of his length. The salty taste of Leon’s precum coating it, Leon’s hand on the back of your head, trying to coax you down further—which you allow. Leon’s not the biggest man, but his dick is thick and girthy. Your warm mouth swallowing him nearly all the way to the base of his length. Pretty moans drawn out from Leon as you bob your head up and down, just to warm him up, obviously! You definitely aren’t enjoying the way his nose scrunches up, how his breathing hitches at one point, or the way his hips are unable to stay still, trying to get more use out of your mouth.
After a few moments, you pull away. Your lips glistening with your saliva as you do, spit strings from your lips and the head of his length. “I think you’re all warmed up, Leon.”
Leon wants to smack that smug smile off your face. Lost in the sensation of your mouth, he had forgotten all about his stupid bet. “How about we forget about that part?” Leon groans, dick twitching against his pudgy tummy. You shake your head, “Not uh, I want to see if it’s possible now.”
Leon is surprisingly flexible. Still, you have to help him get into position. On his back, legs being pushed towards his face. His neck craned at an awkward angle as the tip of his dick narrowly misses his mouth.
“Looks hard.”
Seriously? That’s all you have to say? Leon lets out a grunt as he tries to strain his neck again. This is so stupid, you think. Still, you are very curious about it. But a thought also occurs to you, is Leon giving the suck or getting the suck—kind of a what came first situation, the chicken or the egg.
Leon’s tongue is just barely able to lick the tip of his length. With a little more help, you push his legs closer to his face. Finally, he’s able to wrap his mouth around the head of his length. Your saliva still coating it, it’s like an indirect kiss!
“Don’t know why Manson had to get his ribs removed, this is easy,” Leon mumbles, mouth full of his own dick.
Yeah, yeah, so easy. Leon couldn’t even do it without your help! Can’t deny that the sight before you isn’t hot. This would make a good MySpace photo… ‘Scene Kid sucks himself off to prove that you don’t need your ribs removed to do it.’ A caption or a Fall Out Boy song title?
Leon’s mouth eagerly sucks at the head of his length, he can’t move any further down—so maybe his ribs would need to be removed for him to take it all down his throat. He’s not shy at all to do this in front of his best friend, a surprising fact. His neck and his ears are flushed red, all you can hear is the sounds of suckling and his little moans.
It doesn’t take long for Leon, his thighs start to twitch as that feeling of pleasure builds in the pit of his stomach. Balls tightening, his mouth parting from his length, the moan that bubbles in the back of his throat is so delicious, whiny and airy. Creamy white ropes coat his face and his hair, his lips glossy from his saliva, and panting like a dog in heat—all blissed out because of his own mouth.
Leon’s head falls back against your pillows, legs all jelly like as you push them back down. His chest rising and falling. While Leon’s pretending like he just gave the best fuck of his life, you grab your digital camera.
Leon gets his pack of monsters and you get a photo to remember this occasion by. His hair sticks to his forehead, his eyeliner smeared, making it even more raccoon like. The flash of the camera barely registers in Leon’s mind.
MySpace worthy but you’d rather keep it to yourself.
“Dude. Does this make me gay?”
“Shut up.”
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