He can get his own coffee in the morning.

He can shove down his thoughts and emotions on his own.

He doesn't need good luck or a quick kiss before leaving for a mission he may not come back from.

He can stitch himself up perfectly fine in the filthy bathroom of one of his safe houses.

Yet here he was, crawling in through your apartment window like something your cat would've dragged in- soaked to the bone and covered head to toe in blood.

He's almost embarressed to say that most of it is his own.

He doesn't back down when you reach out with a gentle hand after perking up at the sound of his boots hitting the ground, though.

He knows better than to deny the only love he gets.

Sure, he doesn't need your help.

But he craves it.

He craves those gentle touches that only come when the lights are so dim that your bodies are concealed.

He craves the way you put just a bit too much sugar in his coffee, telling him to have a "sweet day."

He craves the kisses you pepper all along every new scar and bruise.

He craves your love.

He craves you.

Clingy!Jason who would hold you tight every time you are alone because he honestly has been so touch starved all his life and now that he has you he can't get enough.

Clingy!Jason pulling you for tight bear hugs that leaves you breathless and he can't help but laugh at your reaction every time.

Clingy!Jason who would totally whine and complain if you try to break out of his embrace when you're sleeping together.

Clingy!Jason who would lay on top of you and rest his head on your chest, he's so heavy but always says he's not if you try to move him.

Clingy!Jason who wraps his arms around your waist when you're cooking.

Clingy!Jason who follows you around the house when you wake up in the night to grab a drink/snack.