jason todd & bucky barnes apologist. mcu & dcu. horror enthusiast. comic nerd. jjk. re2. arkham knight. vampires. gothic art. twenty-one. she/her. full-time yearner.

MDNI. my fics are 18+. angsty, darker themes & smut.

latest -> big ol’ freak

taglist | gtfo zionists | sideblog | recs

☆ indicates smut.

Bucky Barnes

-> loathe isn’t strong enough ☆

ANGST. slowburn-ish. smut; hatefucking, crying during sex. betrayal. reader is morally grey. hurt!comfort. approx. 20k wc

-> wanna play a game? ☆

ghostface!bucky. fearplay. horror themes.

-> solo mission

angst, reader!hurt, hurt!nocomfort

-> winter widow / p2 / p3 ☆

what if you were the one who fell?

reader!winter(soldier)widow, angst, violence, mention of torture, flashbacks, yearning.

-> “i didn’t have anywhere else to go”

reader!hurt, enemies to lovers, angst but also fluff

-> tell me again in the morning

fluff, reader!drunk, friends to lovers, confession.

-> sleeping with the enemy ☆

enemies to lovers, one bed trope, angst, bucky!hurt

-> the blood we’ve spilt ☆

wintersoldier!bucky x vampire!reader

hydra experiment, forbidden love, torture, blood, sexual tension, violence, eventual smut, some tooth rotting one-liners -> (bonus)

-> bucky barnes is a slut ☆

short. kinda fluff. suggestive. fruit as a sexual innuendo.

-> “i didn’t ask for you to love me.”

angst. hurt absolutely no comfort.

-> “congressman barnes is a munch” ☆

pure smut. f!recieving.

-> “demolition lovers”

you took his bullet, but now you have to say goodbye. angst. they’re so in love, it’s painful. hurt/nocomfort. yes it’s an mcr reference.

-> “hates me, not?” ☆

sub!bucky. dryhumping. begging. whimpering men.

-> “perfect distraction” ☆

bucky is in love with you but you’re bestfriends. when you both hookup for the first time, you suggest fwb and he desperately wants you so he’ll settle for fucking you stupid.

-> “fatal attraction” ☆

avenger!bucky + newrecruit!reader. angst, enemies to lovers, jealousy

Jason Todd

-> safety net — the masterlist *series

college au, smut, virginity loss, angst, fluff. betrayal.

-> bulking season

jason has been bulking and he’s extraaaaa big.

-> jason, the romantic

fluff. short. drabble

-> tower of memories *ongoing

hurt!comfort. angsty; very angsty-relationship, heated arguments. reader!hurt; blood, torture, violence, lowkey horror. slowburn-ish. +more tags to be added.

-> not over it

emotional damage, angst, trauma. hurt/comfort.

-> keep it on ☆

mask kink. filthy smut.

-> too angry to notice ☆

jason todd x reader — reader!hurt, angst, smut

you fucked up on the mission. bad. you ended up getting hurt and hide it from jason. he’s so pissed at you for messing up patrol he doesn’t even realize you were hurt. until he does, and the tension between you boils over.

-> f*cking the stress outta you ☆

exactly what it sounds like.

-> “jason’s love language is physical touch” ☆

sweet, soft smut.

-> merry christmas, i love you

fluff. angst. friends to lovers. happy jason.

-> melt into the kiss

jason folds like a lawn chair. fluff.

-> bf!jason is a yapper

boyfriend!jasontodd is such a yapper, he can’t do secrets.

miscellaneous

sweet treat — clark kent — fluff & smut ☆

huge apologies — unnamed mc — very smutty ☆

godforsaken beginnings — w/w — vampires. ☆

vampire!jason who comes into your home while you’re sleeping. he hasn’t seen you in over two years and when you wake up with him crowding over you, you scream at the top of your lungs. eyes wide in a panic as you thrash and he places a firm palm over your lips. his eyes shone a bright green and his lips were stained an unnatural red, still dripping down his chin. his eyes sunken in as he pleads with you despite having the upper hand.

“please help me,” he practically cries before inching closer. when you don’t move, he collapses onto your chest, letting his weight rest on you and burying his face there for comfort.

still reeling from your bestfriend coming back to life, you hold him there against you. hand smoothing back his tangled hair and a new tuft of white that took home on his bangs. you keep him close like he could leave you again.

vampire!jason who explains what happened vaguely because even he didn’t understand. he tells you he just woke up like this. that he’s sorry to scare you and clenches his fists like he’s afraid to see what he’d do if he touched you any more than he already was. afraid to move his hands.

vampire!jason who tries to fight the urge to sink his teeth into your plush neck, but he fails. his head moves from your chest to your shoulders, then his lips kiss your neck. you jolt in his grip and gasp his name, your body betraying you with how much you’d wanted this. never imagining that you’d get a chance with him since you never got to tell him you loved him. he takes a deep breath from the crook of your neck and moans.

“you smell exactly how i remember.” breath ghosting over your skin, “even better now.”

you gulp as his fingers curl around your neck and apologies begin to slip past his perfect lips.

“i’m so sorry. i need to. i have to do this.”

before you could question what he meant, the veins around his eyes suddenly become darker and your eyes widened again. he leaned further into you and breaks your skin with his teeth. the scream quickly dies in your throat as a stinging pleasure takes form. you gasp his name but hold him closer. thankful to have him back in any way.

vampire!jason who moans egregiously while he sucks your blood. the sound echoes from your throat, dancing by his ears while he continues cursing himself for feeling this way about you. you don’t miss how he inches himself closer to you, hands at either side of your head digging in and ripping the sheets. he mewls as he pulls from your neck, his mouth relentless against your skin. his eyes roll to the back of his head as he stuffed himself further ontop of you.

vampire!jason who begs you for forgiveness afterwards. on the verge of tears, he stares down at you and whimpers your name. he pulls your limp body upright in his lap and cradles your head close.

“fuck— i didn’t mean to take so much. i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry.”

but you’re smiling in a blissful state because it felt like you were staring at yourself from outside of your body. almost as if you were high from this. floating in a exhilarating way you hadn’t felt in a really long time.

vampire!jason who feeds you his blood while you’re half conscious. something told him this was the cure to him losing control and keeping you alive. in the back of his mind he knew he was teetering with life and death and that you were the only person he needed. the only person he thought of when he awoke. not bruce, not joker, but you. all he wanted was you and nothing could stand in his way now or ever again.

vampire!jason who doesn’t sleep until you gasp awake hours later. he holds a damp towel to your forehead and still has your dried blood on his face, not caring for it but only you. he sighs as you grab at him in confusion, pulling him closer to smell the tasteful nectar that no longer ran through your veins. the scent suddenly gaining appeal as you grasp as him.

you breathe his name back and ask him for some of it without truly understanding the implication. without a second thought, he keeps your gaze and bites at his wrist, holding it to your parted lips.

vampire!jason who thinks he could’ve came from the sight of you like this. his lips part and moan, watching your eyes glow a low red as you wrapped tight fingers around his wrist. a breathless gasp escapes him and a growing heat emerges.

“don’t do this with anyone else okay?” he suddenly says. “just with me.”

you’re too far gone to have register anything but the sweet warmth on your tongue.

vampire!jason who quickly understands the intimacy of this moment. he immediately sees how much of you he wanted and badly he needed you just like this. he held your head close, cradles you in his arms as he leaned against the headboard. his hips mindlessly bucking and stilling like he were holding back. he doesn’t stop you from taking what you wanted and he smiles throughout it all.

“if i had to die to have you,” his green eyes gleaming bright as they watch yours, “i’d do it all over again.”

a sickening rasp leaves his throat, stretching through the empty air and filling your eardrums like audible horror. you gasp with him as though you could breathe the life into him. but he’s slowly getting quieter in his breaths and that’s what’s scaring you more.

a sudden clanging of the bars make you flinch to find its source and wish you could grab at your pounding head. though, this deep in the abandoned wing of arkham, the walls echo the sounds of one another just enough to disorientate.

this was his intention in bringing you both here, to toy with you and see how you crack. but jason was taking more of the blows than you were and this time you feared he wasn’t gonna wake up from it.

no one was coming to save you.

a croaking sound you hardly recognized comes out when you try to speak, “ja—jayce…”

he doesn’t move at all. instead his head slumps further into his torn up suit and that stupid R hangs off of his chest by a thread. you cry out when you try to move out of the restraints in your own seat, trying desperately to get closer to him. your voice was ragged and your hearing low, probably from the blows you’d gotten to your own head. but nothing could compare to what he’d done to jason.

“no,” you try again, swallowing down the cry threatening to slip, “he’s not gonna win.”

the pattering of his blood dripping from the wheelchair he was strapped to snaps you back to just how helpless you are now. with immense struggle you scoot your chair even closer to his, just enough to stick your neck out and touch his face with it. the horrific J etched into his skin, raw and branded, it only deepened your disturbance. not caring at all for the blood wetting his face, you touch yours to it and try to lift his hanging head from its position.

“jason get up.” sniffling as you strain against your restraints just to touch him again, “you have to get up. you’re gonna die down here, please.”

though he makes no indication of waking up yet, but at this distance you could now see his chest was rising and falling. just barely. you nuzzle closer to his face and he twitches towards you when your tears fall. against his skin they revitalize and his fingers stretch out again. a pained groan lifts from his tongue and it completely shatters your heart.

the sight of him makes you cry a little harder, whispering soft apologies by his ear like it could fix anything. like he wasn’t just a man trying to help fix a broken city that took from him before. now he pays the price twice and you could do nothing to stop it.

he takes a sharp inhale and says something meant to soothe you, though you knew it was mostly to himself. “don’t cry,” he croaks, “batman is going to get us.”

you nod at his sentiment anyway, hoping that what he said was true yet knowing that no one was coming to save both of you. nuzzling a little closer to him, the clanging gets closer and you shut your eyes. utterly defeated and you could see it on his face too that he was tired yet somehow in his eyes a glimmer of hope remained. a hope that one man inspired him.

suddenly he rasps, “i-i forgot if i…” trailing off and taking a deep gulp with immense struggle.

trying to figure it out for him, you hold back your tears, “you forgot what jay?”

a small, misplaced smile takes form on his face and he looks up at you, “i think i forgot to make my bed before i left.”

that only makes your lip quiver again, nodding along and leaning closer to him. “that’s okay jay. i’ll make it for you when we get out of here okay?”

you knew this was far from over, but for the sake of jason and his lethargic exhaustion, he nods and you let his head fall onto your shoulder. he sighs as he drifts asleep again.

murmuring a soft, “he’ll be here.”

the helplessness slipping into knowing that your impeding demise was imminent. but a moment of bliss might be the only relief you could offer him, relaxing the strain in your arms as you let him droop further against you. the slumber that you emerged from resumed its efforts and drags you under with his unconscious form. you crane your head further into his limp one and your tears wet the side of his face.

all you could do was remind him that even if no one came, the two of you remained. that there was someone there with him and maybe that could ease some of that pain.

lashes fluttering as you succumb to exhaustion as well, you try to reassure him. “yeah, jay. he’s coming.”

but dick didn’t know you’d seen jason at that coffee shop first. that he’d ordered something off the menu thinking it was a black coffee but really it was an americano with two pumps of syrup, grimacing disgusted when he drank it. or that he softened when he saw you laugh and point to the menu, telling him, no one ever really bought that drink. or how his eyes crinkled when you made him a new drink and how he thanked you generously when you told him he didn’t have to pay. and he wasn’t used to this, being on the receiving end of the tenderness.

no one found out that jason would come to your shop often then, bringing his cheeky humour and his roughened edges that you’d dulled. you’d take your breaks around the same time everyday and he’d be sure to be there, and sit with you by the patio to talk about the future he knew was uncertain.

his hands would linger near yours but never close enough to really touch.

just warmth radiating fondly.

the two of you walked home a few times. only when you casually mentioned you lived close by. he frowned and shook his head at you like you were the innocently naive, saying.

“gotham is dangerous and she is evil, but she’ll love you if you protect yourself, y’know?” he watches you blink at him before he shoots you a smile. “i’ll be back to walk you. wait for me.”

and he did walk you home everyday for the following few weeks.

jason was hesitant on touching you, always needing some reassurance to do so but when he finally took the courage and kissed you, it felt like sparks flew. his palms were clenched tight while he leaned you backwards, just enough for your back to arch. then you guided his trembling hands to your hips, reassuring with your gentle touch and they found their way around.

he put one of his hands on the small of your back while he changed his tempo, lips curving around yours as he held you closer. desperately, he pressed himself to you, keeping you there like you’d run. god, you wouldn’t dream of running.

but that was it.

you kissed once and it was insanely good. he’d groan into your mouth and touch your hair like he needed more. swallowing the sound down, it sounded like music to your ears when he did it. you’d feel the weight of him, unmistakable against your body, warm and heavy.

then he disappeared again for a few days.

but by the eighth week, he came by your house when you were off, lounging on your couch. giant t-shirt draping over your body as you ate takeout from the box. he opened the window and let himself in, crawling inside like it was hard to do.

you ran to him, of course you did. grabbing his arm more roughly than intended, you draped it over your shoulder and lugged the man to his feet. pulling him with immense difficulty to the couch and dropping him there to run wordlessly and grab the first aid kit before panicking when you returned.

“i—fuck, what happened? who did this?” rasping as you sat on your knees to clean the cuts on his face. “are you hurt anywhere else? should i take you to the hospital?”

he grabs your wrist when you reach for your phone and brings it to your chest. “no,” it’s almost a breathless gasp. “please don’t.”

you nod slowly as you start to pull up his shirt and cut through the fabric. not entirely sure what to do but trying nonetheless to help the regular you’d been silently crushing on for the last month. cleaning up the slash on his abdomen and watching his face contort when you put ointment and a bandage. you watch as he slowly drifts and falls asleep, lips parting blissfully. then his hands reach out for you when you stand with his eyes still closed, he whispers your name in a sigh.

“thank you ma.”

you let him sleep off whatever the hell it was and wash the blood from your hands despite the shakiness it presented. you shower silently and replay the evening over in your mind. nearly forgetting that this man passed out in your couch had gotten into your apartment though you’d never brought him up with you. before, he’d only walked you to the building.

how did he know which one was yours?

part of you was terrified of him but the other part was worried. you check on him repeatedly on the night but when you see his breathing has evened out, you head back to your room after dealing a blanket over him. you fall asleep unwillingly with your bedroom door locked and a desk in front of it.

when you wake in the morning, he’s gone with all traces of himself with it.

jason doesn’t come by for days later though you don’t stop looking for him. the stain you swore was on your couch is cleaned and the seat he took in the shop was cold. he hadn’t gotten his bitter drink from you in a while and despite his sudden, horrifying appearance at your place, you miss him.

you look for him even though a part of your brain was nagging you to stop. you ask your coworkers, and even your manager for camera access, they all say no. people say they don’t even remember him, and you start to feel crazy.

did you imagine him?

but when you go to the library by your place to study, you see him hunched over a copy of animal farm and oversized hoodie engulfing him. not even a minute goes by before he sees you too. though to your surprise, he comes up to you.

“hey,” his voice the same strong yet unsure tone that you grew to love.

“hey,” continuing to flip brought your page and sparing him a short glance. “haven’t seen you in a while.”

he sighs and sets his book down at your desk, pulling a chair out to sit next to you. “i’m sorry. i haven’t come by i just didn’t know how to apologize.”

you blink at him, “apologize for what? scaring me shitless and then disappearing without letting me know you were okay? fuck you dude.”

“wait,” grasping his long fingers around your wrist when you try to get up to leave. “i didn’t know where else to go. just let me explain. please?”

his eyes shone with a gentle sheen of wetness that showed his sincerity. the nagging disappeared as you listened to him and nodded, letting him lead you to the corner of the library.

only then does he tell you about his family. about the way the life has treated him like a punching bag and how the man that he thought was protecting him wasn’t willing to take all of the risks. he told you about how he wanted to fix this place for good. how all of the bad people seem to keep winning and that he didn’t want to be part of that anymore. he started to see how his anger was always warranted, and how the world had turned their back on him. the love that fostered over these last few weeks only bloomed further.

noticing how his eyes flicker across your face or how he watched, you take a drag of a cigarette when you stood outside. the both of you had become accustomed to one another, and the familiarity of his gaze didn’t burn, but it warmed you up. It was no surprise when he finally let his eyes fall to your lips, trying not to give in to what he wanted from you so bad.

though he was taken aback when you took the initiative and pressed his hovering hands to yours. then you kissed him and it felt like church bells rang in his mind as he lost all resemblance of himself. jason walked you back to the brick wall and pressed you there, hand caressing your cheek as you moaned softly into his mouth. he swallowed it down and shivered when you bit his lip.

his strong arms lifted you up and deepened the kiss, slowly grinding his hips back into yours when you shifted against him. breathlessly, you feel yourself surrender to him, just like you knew you would. the moment gets more heated as you drop your fingers to wiggle at his belt, letting the metal clink and fall open when he reluctantly pulls back. breath warm and heady as he gasps for air and rubs your cheek with his free hand, watching you blink confused at him.

“no,” breathlessly gasping. “i can’t do this to you.”

furrowing your brows at the implication of his words, you shake your head. “do what?”

“this,” he says quickly before gently moving you off of him so he could move away. “touching you.”

entirely confused by his sudden change you only take a couple steps backwards too. hand coming up to touch your lips like it could hold his memory there. jason seems to notice and moves in a little closer.

“i have done a lot of bad things in my life. i’ve hurt people because i was angry and i’ve lost control more times than i could remember.” he rasps. “i don’t want to do that to you. i can’t do that to you.”

you can’t help but scoff. “i’m a grown woman jason and you’re the one who broke into my apartment bleeding and ran away before we could discuss it.”

“and i shouldn’t have done that.” he sighs. “i shouldn’t have involved you.”

this time you press on. the tension between you unbearable as you yearn for the touch of his skin. “maybe i want to be involved.”

an incredulous laugh escapes him as he shakes his head. “you are not involved.”

crossing your arms over your chest in defiance, “i think a guy showing up in the middle of the night, bleeding all over my living room makes me involved.”

“it doesn’t. trust me, you don’t want any part of this life. you’re just gonna get hurt.” he argues back.

squinting your eyes at him, you sigh. “let me worry about myself.”

“i can’t.”

“that’s not really my problem now is it?”

jason takes a moment to look you from eye to eye. “listen to me. you are not apart of this.”

“and you listen to me jason.” you reply quickly wanting him to understand without realizing how both your voices had risen. “you made me a part of this the day you walked into the shop.”

“yeah and i regret that!” the words escape him before he can think about how it could hurt.

your lips part and your brows had a soft furrow in them. a breathless gasp slips in shock. “you don’t mean that.”

“i do mean that.” doubling down on his words. “it was idiotic of me to involve you and i shouldn’t have brought some civilian girl into this so let’s just forget it ever happened.”

trying not to show how your heart crumbled, you take a couple backward steps. you watch as his face contorts and returns back to its original form.

“i thought...” you trail off when he finishes it for you.

“you thought i was the boyfriend type?” he throws back more harshly than he needed to. “that i’d be all loving and mushy? that’s not me and that’ll never be me so just drop it.”

he didn’t take the words back. he didn’t try to stop you from believing what he said was true. he wanted you to believe it and part of you did even if most of you was screaming that he was trying to protect you. deep down you knew this was his coping mechanism. this was how he saved you both even if it meant sacrificing himself.

but mostly, a deep rooted sense of distain took for him. this was cowardice. this was a kind of protection that you never asked for and it was all his fault. he was the one to involve you in this in the first place and now he was blaming you for trying. now part of you was blaming yourself for letting yourself believe that this could’ve been something.

a soft sigh escaped you as you slowly nod your head at him. “right.”

turning around and walking back towards where your things sat. You collect your belongings and leave without another word letting him ponder on his own if that’s what he was even really doing. You decide then and there you won’t look for him, but this was not something that you needed to weigh heavy on your mind. So many other responsibilities had already taken form in your life and here he was making it harder for the both of you.

the following weeks you find yourself, looking for traces of him in mundane things. orders of black coffees with no milk and no sugar you find yourself thinking of him. leather jackets and cargo pants seem to bring you to his attire.

you accidentally cut your hand cooking dinner on the third month and the blood droplets seem to capture you. Why did they take you back to him? Why couldn’t he have just been a normal guy?

You try to throw yourself back into the thick of everything else. Your friends invite you out for parties for birthdays and you don’t skip any of them. You go out for lunch you take them to dinner and inevitably you go to a bar.

You tell yourself that this is gonna pass and that you just need to find someone to take your mind off of the guy, the mysterious one, who broke your heart without ever really knowing him.

That’s when you meet him—Dick Grayson.

His dark luscious hair and his beautiful piercing eyes. He was the life of the party. He is everything that you needed to pull you out of the slump. There’s something faintly reminds you of someone else you pushed that feeling and that thought down and instead you let him buy you a drink. And then another. And then another. When he goes in for a kiss, you pull back and you’re not even sure why.

this gorgeous guy was trying to get with you and here you were thinking of some idiot who left you high and dry at a public library.

when you go to work a coffee bar at some fancy gala, there Dick is again.

only this time he’s lost that sleazy unbuttoned shirt that he was wearing at the bar and it’s been replaced by a sleek neatly tucked in suit. one that looked like it costs double what your rent is for the month. you tell yourself you’re not being a look at him you’re not even gonna give him satisfaction or yourself the heartbreak even if that wasn’t even a sure thing.

But he’s the one to approach you and all you really wanted was a distraction.

“well hello gorgeous. i didn’t think i’d see you so soon.”

you blink up at him, hand still holding a half made drink as you awkwardly smile. somehow dick finds entire thing endearing and he gets you out from behind the table, pulling your apron off and leaving the banquet entirely. charming as ever, it doesn’t take much for him to convince you to follow along and fall into his advances.

slowly, he makes his way into your life too. but the difference is dick pulls you into his, bringing you gifts and lavish things that you’d never really cared for. he invited you to parties that aren’t your scene and he introduces you to his friends. when he kisses you, it’s hunger and delight. it’s on your way back to his apartment, when the both of you had a little too much to drink.

his hands reach yours while you walk and he brings you closer by your waist. fingers lingering by your hip when he says your name quietly. when you turn to look at him, he presses his lips to yours, soft and plump. it’s teeth and lips when he pushes you against the door, desperate hands trailing down your waistband when he tries to feel your underwear through the silky dress. you gasp his name into his mouth and press your hand to his chest. a small whisper of a not yet, that he nods and takes like it was no big deal.

yet here you were, yearning for something more difficult. something more devastating that you felt guilty for taking this moment for granted. there’s no explicit label on the two of you, but the message is clear to everyone around you and him alike.

you’re his girl.

months go by like this, where nothing progressed beyond sitting in his lap, kissing him hard and apologizing when he wanted more. but dick was patient and he was understanding and he waited.

now you’re sat at another one of the many galas you’d attended in the last year and dick is busy chatting away a group of stupidly rich people. conversing with them like he’s meant to and slyly receiving touches and remarks about his looks that should’ve made you angry or jealous. but you never were. his personality was flirty as is and you didn’t care that other people appreciated how attractive he was. if anything it was like a compliment.

coddling a fruity drink in his hand and another to gesture wildly, dick laughed all evening and secured a couple of deals for his fathers company. the company he’d never truly elaborate on so you wouldn’t know why he was away at odd times in the night. or why he sometimes got phone calls mid-date and needed to leave for a while before texting you that he’s sorry he can’t make it.

somehow, none of it really mattered. part of you knew that dick grayson wasn’t yours.

by the time you get to the manor with dick, he’s wasted and bubbly enough to be looser. though it amplifies his flirty personality and he spends the limo ride home kissing down your neck, leaving marks that you definitely didn’t want to stay. you tilt your head for and hum his name.

“gray, you’re gonna leave a mark.” fake protesting even as your eyes roll in pleasure.

“i want to leave plenty.” groaning against your neck as the car stops by the house.

he reaches over and pulls the window down to hide from the rear view mirror, bringing you up onto his lap. the plush of your ass is kneaded as he shifts your hips against him, dragging and gasping at the sensation. minutes go by like this, friction burning between you as his dark hair sticks to his forehead from how much he was working himself up.

“can we?” he rasps, not needing to say the whole thing before you already understand.

you pull away to look at him and see the desperation etched on his face. part of you wants to give him what he wants, to finally give in to that temptation but the rest of you says to wait for some reason you couldn’t understand. here was this gorgeous man, sculpted like a greek god with his perfect teeth and his chiseled jaw. he was beautiful and everything anyone could ever want, but you couldn’t just say yes.

“you’re drunk,” you state, pulling yourself off of him and opening the door. “let’s go inside and sleep this off.”

he groans like it hurts when you pull him out by his hands. “hasn’t anyone ever told you how much it hurts when you don’t take care of it?”

you hum and bring his face closer to yours as you walk to the door. hand settled low on his back as he holds himself up with an arm around your shoulders.

“nice try dickie. you can help yourself when you take a cold shower.” kissing his cheek as you shut the door behind you.

coherent enough to hold himself upright, he huffs softly and then smiles. leaning over to kiss your lips again, pecking like he was soothing himself before nodding and pulling off his shoes. from across the corridor you could hear a faint sound coming from a television. low enough to be mistaken for sounds of the house.

dick guides you further into the house by your waist and settles his hand by your hip when you reach the living room. along the way you leave you purse on the counter, phone tucked inside it as you start to see the black haired man sitting on the couch, facing the television.

“took you long enough dick head.” the familiar voice echoes with barely concealed annoyance. “you were supposed to help cass tonight.”

dick sighs as he walks himself to the kitchen to grab a beer. “i told her i had to go to bruce’s thing. she’s way grown enough to patrol on her own. probably more capable than you.”

“yeah? well duke had to go and—” cutting himself off as he stands and turns his body to where you stood.

his eyes widening as he sees you there, standing in a pretty dress and a softly dishevelled appearance, as though perfectly imperfect. jason’s lips part at the sight of you, and you take in the look on his face as one of disbelief. something in his appearance had shifted in the months you hadn’t seen him. something about his face had gotten more mature and intense. like he’s seen a couple things more than from when you last saw him and he looked more tired.

exhausted really.

“—you shouldn’t be out doing that shit right now anyways. bruce told you to lay low after what happened last time.” dick says as he takes a swig of his beer.

when he noticed how you and jason were looking at eachother, he looks between you. quickly you break the eye contact, but jason doesn’t. his gaze remained steady.

“oh jason, this is my girlfriend.” dick says your name. “this is my brother, jason.”

girlfriend.

you nearly grimace at the name he calls you but somehow keep it inside. mentally you’re cursing yourself for not meeting his family before this happened. had you known that they were related you would’ve never even spoken to them. you would’ve never thought to talk to Dick in the first place.

now you’re stuck in this awkward position where you have to tell the guy you’ve been seeing casually for the past couple of months that; hey, I used to have a huge crush on your brother and I actually made out with him and also sometimes I imagine his face on yours.

well, maybe not the whole thing.

he probably doesn’t need to know all of the details.

your mind is going a million miles a minute and you can’t even think about what you’re supposed to do next. do you shake his hand? or maybe you’re supposed to stand frozen like you have been for the past 30 seconds and hope it’s all just a dream.

but then jason raises his hand, and offers it out to you like it’s the easiest thing. he smiles softly and you find yourself—

“hey, i’m jason.”

somehow this option didn’t even occur to you and it was the one that burned the most.

you hesitate before you offer your hand as well and let him take yours in it, shaking it soft yet familiar. almost intimate if anyone was looking too hard, and thankfully, dick was inebriated enough just to not notice that part.

“hey,” you offer back and repeat your name, trying to forget how bitter it tasted on you tongue right now. he holds your hand for a moment longer than necessary, and you find yourself looking into his eyes like you didn’t know him completely already.

“he’s gonna be staying here for a while since his apartment has roaches and shit.” dick pats jason’s back and still doesn’t notice how he couldn’t pry his eyes off of you. “his rooms across from mine.”

his grip tightens ever so slightly when you try to pull it away.

“guess we’ll be seeing a lot of eachother.” jason says with a gaze on you that could light a thousand fires in your soul.

this was going to be a long, long summer.

he’ll stare up at you with hearts in his eyes and a look that could only be described as puppy like. then he rasps, “please.”

desperation evident in his tone and a break in his voice that struck deep. running your fingers through his hair and he practically moans. you nod your head and bite your lip when his eyes fall to it.

it’s enough to spur him on immediately.

before you knew it he was on his knees, fingers curled around your thighs like a brace to keep you there. his roughened hands hold you tight while he’s kitten licks at your clothed core. groaning like it hurts when you buck up into him yet not letting you get any further. he doesn’t let you shut your legs when the sensations are too much. jason won’t let you run from how it feels and he won’t let himself get off yet either. pressing himself hard against you when he lifts your hips, guiding you closer to his mouth like he could devour you whole.

it’s a miracle you remember that he genuinely can go on like this for hours before you pry him off—again, to no avail.

“jay—fuck, babe just take it off of me.” gasping as you try to push at his head and buck into him at once.

instead he moans against you like he’s the one getting off. “mmhf, give me another minute.”

struggling to find the words and clamping your legs around his head, you pull him up by his hair. it dawns on him then that he was absolutely drunk on you and didn’t seem to care. whining his name again, jason buries himself deeper between your legs. lapping desperately as your hips lift completely off the cushion. you mutter under your breath and gasp for air when he holds your hand in his and groans again. the fabric of your panties wet from arousal and his ministrations all at once. clinging tightly to your skin and he sucks in pulses. your free hand jumps to grab at him, at something to ground yourself from the feelings rendering you helpless.

it builds up higher as he takes both of your wrists in one of his big hands and holds it over your stomach. his other hand coming to wrap around your thigh and pull it further apart, deepening his movements instead of just taking it all off. flicking and flattening his tongue against you.

you’d feel embarrassed if it wasn’t jason. but the warmth pools in your core and if he wasn’t holding you down, you’re sure you’d be jumping around the place. he knows your body better than you do at this point.

“it’s okay ma,” groaning into you and parting just to speak. “just let it happen.”

when you turn your head to the side, trying to hide in the throw pillow there, he tugs you further down the couch. hoisting you up as he sits on his knees, only your upper back touching the cushion now. the tension snaps like an elastic band, the overwhelming force ruining you and probably his shirt too as you let go. but jason doesn’t stop eating like his life depends on it. he keeps humming as you shake in his grips. looking down to him, the high mixed with this one making you feel like you’re floating over yourself, watching him commit this filthy act with a smile on his sweaty face. 

he doesn’t relent, instead he continues his ministrations while you whine beneath him. weakly pushing at him while simultaneously aching for more. jason finally puts a finally kiss to your puffy clit and stands, trailing his lips up your bare torso til he sucks at your breast. moaning egregiously at how pliant you’d become, he finally reaches your face and locks lips with you.

the kiss is heady and sweet, utterly yours in a way that made you shiver. he’s twisting his tongue around yours as he pushes the taste of you so fat down your throat that you could help but feel impossibly filthy. while he’s got you there, his hands move on their own accord. finding his belt and clinking it open when you move quickly to push them down his legs. he lets you take a little control then, kissing passionately while you fiddle his belt out of the loops and shove his pants and boxers down with them. that’s when you hear the faint flicker of your lighter on the table and jason pulls back to place the joint between his lips.

eyes boring into yours as he takes a long drag, not wavering his gaze on you. he pulls you up by your chin and the rest of your follows breathlessly. leaning up into him until he brings his lips over yours, just ghosting there. then he exhales and the smoke fills your lungs slowly. sucking the intoxicating air in as he follows you back down too your back hit the cushions again, sealing the moment with a kiss.

the high only intensifies when he puts the joint on your lips and nods to make you do the same. the air that lifts from your mouth and touches his, you watch as his eyes fall to your lips and the thick cloudy smoke follows up into his parted lips. for a moment his eyes rolls back and the tuft of white in his hair that was stuck to his forehead looks similar to the milky white cloud that gathered around you as jason exhaled again.

you feel something thick and heavy on your clothes core again as he pushes your sweaty hair out from your face. a heady smile on his face and his red rimmed eyes nearly a a lot with how high he’d gotten. he leans up a little to kiss your forehead, but the drag is devastating on your sensitive bud. you grasp at his shoulders.

“wait, not yet.” gripping tightly while he only smiles and pouts.

“what?” he taunts. “too sensitive princess?” continuing the tireless dragging with his hand firm in directing his thick length.

it catches on you again and you gasp sharply. throwing your head back while trying to buck up into him and nodding.

“v—very.” the word a breathless sound on your tongue.

jason hums as he leans forward again, keeping you still beneath him despite how you try to feel him again. instead he’s pressing his full weight down on you while he smiles, pretending like he doesn’t know how hard he was against you now. his lips part on gasp just as yours do, almost like he’s mimicking how you move.

the next words were raspy as he said it and you knew you were done for. “too bad. you’ll be okay.”

his hand continues to drag his length over and over against you, the fabric doing nothing to barrier you from the other. the cotton now wet with arousal and precum, the slippage gives him more room to tease. watching you breath hitch and falter, he pulls himself up to drop it back down and let you feel he weight of him. when you try to hide from him again, he turns your head back to look between you. to see the squelching mess that you’d created from how he was making you feel.

“you see that? that’s all mine.” he moans as he just drags his length a little harder against you.

he uses his free hand to paw at your breasts, mouthing at you relentlessly like it was the last time. practically slobbering over your chest as he drops his mouth to the other and rolls the peak with his thumb.

crying out as the overstimulation peaks, you feel a tear rush down your face. though he only continues, the look in his eye that told you he meant for you to really feel it. jason moans against your skin and the vibrations made everything intensify even more. he makes a broken sound then, sputtering as he says your name and his movements turn messy. his hips buck mindlessly as he breathes hot against your chest.

one of your hands come up to grab his hair and hold him there as you reach the peak once again, crying out his name as he comes undone. with a harsh gasp, he comes in thick ropes, painting your panties with his spend as the rest lands onto your stomach and thighs.

jason collapses against you, kissing up the side of your face as he catches his breath. finally pulling away to look at you, breathing heavily and melting into the cushion. a blissed out expression on your face and the lingering scent of skin, weed, and vanilla in the air. the intoxicating scent of you that he breathes in was riling him up again before you even spoke to him.

he breathes your name, “you okay ma?”

taking a thick swallow from how worked up you’d gotten, you nod, rasping a quiet, “yeah.” before he quickly got up and grabbed the water bottle on the counter. pulling you up while he rested his back on the seat and held you close to his chest, bringing the water to your lips.

you drink quietly, the room quiet beyond the soft sound of your music playing from before and you gulping hard. when he brings the bottle down, you drop your head to the crook of his neck and sigh. “you’re the worst.”

that only makes him grin and kiss the top of your sweaty head. “you mean, i’m the best?”

effortlessly lifting your hips just to pull your ruined panties off and place you firmly back onto his chest. then he’s letting his palm lay flat over your core, whether in silent apology or quiet possession, you weren’t sure. you didn’t complain regardless.

with no energy to argue, you just sigh softly into his neck and shut your eyes. jason holds onto you tighter as hums to your playlist like he knows every one because he does. he listens to your music so he can know you even more intimately than he already does and when you smoke with him, he adds them to his playlist.

he keeps the bottle close to where he sat on the table for when you taped him to pass it to you again because he knew you would. after a few minutes passed in steady silence where you only laid on him while he listened to you breath, you lift your head ever so slightly when he’s already looking down at you, bottle in his hand with the cap screwed off.

asking if you’re, “still thirty baby?” even though he knew you were, he was just waiting for you to ask.

when you smile weakly at him, he brings it up to your lips while he brushes your hair back with a tender touch.

while you fall into your exhausted slumber, you’re left wondering how you got so lucky to have him and he thinks exactly the same while watching his world drift asleep.

Her manicured nails trail up his abs, bunching the fabric of his shirt and scratching up to his broad shoulders. He gulps in anticipation with the tip of his tongue touching the ends of his teeth, watching her hands find their path. His ears bloom red with heat and lust. He’s blushing hard and she sees it.

She inches up his neck, dragging soft red lines across the sides and earning a hum of appreciation he instinctively lets out. She presses her thumb to his pink lips, and his big blue eyes suddenly widen.

“What are you—” he starts but she shoves past the first knuckle into his mouth, and his lips immediately wrap themselves around it.

“I said shut up, didn’t I, Barnes?”

Like the respectful man he is, he listens.

She hums in approval as he stays silent and pushes her thumb further into his mouth, letting him slobber over it before pulling it back out—just to prove a point.

"You're so much cuter when you get what you want, you know that?"

Dumbfounded, he stares up at her like he wasn’t sure if this was really happening, trying to recall how he’d gotten himself into this situation— how she’d gotten him bound for her. But truth be told, he liked this. He wanted this. This big beefy man was dying to be touched by her, manhandled by her into submission even if his pride wouldn’t let him admit it. Bucky always had a soft spot for her, even if they’d fight like hell. The devilish grin on her face when she saw the gears turning in his brain made him so much harder.

“I see the way you look at me, Barnes,” inching herself even closer to him, a leg on either side of his thick thighs.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes.

She nods in amusement like she’s listening to his thoughts, seating herself firmly on his beefy thighs.

"F-fuck,” he groans, growing even harder at the contact.

He was always down bad for her and she could tell just from the way his eyes would wander. She pretends not to notice but tonight, she has him all to herself. No responsibilities, no work, no distractions. Just them.

Giggling at his reaction, she gleams. Her lip is caught between her lips in a seductive smirk.

“You’re so fucking easy, you know that,” ghosting her breath over his cheek as she deliberately shifts her hips on him. He chokes on his spit, straining his hands against the ropes that were just barely keeping him bound.

If he wanted out of them, he could’ve done it.

But he waits and her curiosity gets the better of her. She grinds slowly against the bulge in his pants.

“S—stop that,” he chokes out again. Pulling himself together and glaring at her, lust and embarrassment in his eyes, “god, I hate you,” he’s lying through his teeth. His boner is literally pressing against her core.

“no, you don’t,” she teases, “you hate how much you like me, don’t you, Bucky?” licking a stripe up his jaw and biting at the sharp edge.

“Y-yes, I mean no,” he tries but they both know he doesn’t mean it. She twists her hips in his lap, leaning her head back to stare his flushed appearance. He groans again like it hurts, huffing at her. “Okay—fuck—please,” she smiles at his silent submission.

But still, it wasn't enough.

“Oh, come on now. You can beg better than that,” her voice dripping in honey-tongued seduction.

Seating herself harder against him, his rock-hard length creating the most delicious friction through his jeans. Bucky throws his head back, and she grins down at him like she knows something he doesn’t, leaning into his ear.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you what you can’t seem to say you want,” his lips part as she says it, his eyes gleaming with joy. But she’s stilling her hips against his, and he whimpers in protest, “if you admit it first,”

His breath hitches, brows furrowing, “Admit what?” practically whining the words out of frustration.

“Admit you belong to me. Hmm?”

A heavy gulp pollutes the air as soon as the words come out. His lips are pink and plump from biting them too hard at her mean ministrations. She stretches out her arms behind him, rubbing him just right again.

“D-don’t do that—ah—I’ll—”

She giggles, interrupting him, “You’ll what, Bucky?” dragging her lips over his neck now, hips giving him the slightest contact with a subtle shift.

Everything was building for months, the stares, his lingering touches, the way he would stop himself from saying something and bite back his real desires.

The way she would do the same.

But not anymore.

“You’re so fucking annoying, shit,” He’s practically shaking beneath her, hips bucking back up into her.

She stops her movements and hovers over him. Desperately, he gasps, thrusting his hips upward again but finding no friction to suffice it with.

"Why did you stop?" whining the words in a way she'd never heard him before, and god, was it glorious, “move.”

She stares down at him, “You just called me annoying, so no.” She’s batting her pretty lashes like she could do no wrong, like she were the most innocent woman, just sitting in his lap with no intention of getting him off through his jeans.

He grunts in that way he always does, bucking his hips up when she inches away, “come on, I was joking,” whining the words so gorgeously. He breathes out her name, before biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. She doesn’t move, crossing her arms and he almost cries, at how badly he wanted her on him again, "Please, okay fine, please, let me fuck you.”

She hums, pretending to think to hear him whine again, "That's not what I was looking for," seating herself back on his lap, earning a beautiful moan out of him, "but it sure was pretty, so I'll sit for you,” he gasps in relief as she’s planted back down, “how's that?"

His hips move in circles to coax her, "No, no, wait please, I want you, okay?" he pants, straining against his ties, the chair groaning beneath him as he leans as far as he can into her, "You own me, alright? I belong to you," he watches her face begin to unravel as he grinds perfectly against the seam of her pants, teasing her scrumptiously.

Everything about him screamed power and authority, but beneath her, he was singing like a fucking canary, telling on himself and how desperately he was chasing his pleasure. His perfect, plump lips fall open, and she can't help but lean towards them. He makes contact first, kissing her soft and purposeful as though he's been waiting for this moment for years.

The intrusion is immediate, and he bites her bottom lip to make her open wider, causing her to gasp and moan while he tangles his tongue with hers. The muscles fighting for dominance as all semblance of control and sanity leave both of their minds, and her hips shift in tandem with his. It felt like being drunk for the first time; it felt electric, it felt like fireworks, and they were dry-humping like teenagers.

She had him wrapped around her finger.

She pulls away enough to whisper against his lips, in the sexiest, raspiest voice, knowingly teasing him, “wanna do it raw, pretty boy?"

Fuck, she was gonna kill him. Like something out of a wet dream, her words dawned on him and he was entirely ruined.

Suddenly, he moans her name, stilling his hips as his face falls into the crook of her neck. She freezes, eyes widening as she runs her fingers soothingly through his hair and pulls his head back to face her. He shudders and groans, his skin flushed. A warm, wet spot was pooling just beneath where she sat on his crotch.

“Did you just—?” their faces inches apart.

There was no embarrassment anymore, despite him literally cumming in his pants; now he was past that. He barely pulls at the ropes keeping his arms back, vibranium arm yanking it off with ease. The tearing sound fills the air as she gasps and hops off of him.

“I told you to stop fucking teasing me,” his voice sharp with a newfound anger beneath the edge.

He’s standing now, towering over her, fury evident on his flushed face. Even in anger, he looked like a snack she wanted to unwrap slowly, and lick the wrapper clean like she just couldn’t get enough. His eyes trail down her form and his metal arm wraps around her wrist, pulling her into his embrace before she can get too far.

He crashes his lips into hers and his restraint is entirely gone. Kissing her hard like he had no time to waste, his tongue tangles with hers and she couldn’t do anything about it this time. His fingers firm and purposeful as they snake up the nape of her neck, gripping enough to coax a sharp gasp out of her.

He leans down, whispering in an authoritative and deliciously rough voice that made her shiver exactly as she imagined it would, lips ghosting over hers.

“Now you're really gonna get it.”

#happyfreakysundayeverybodygetlit

jason tosses his mask onto the couch unceremoniously and continues his rant that had been going on for half an hour now, “do you have any fucking idea how royally you just fucked up?!”

now that you were in the batcave, you just felt tired. exhausted and in need of sleep. maybe, even a trip to bruce’s liquor stash.

you blink at him, shifting closer toward the couch, itching to sit down, “i know i fucked up-” but he’s not having it.

jason’s voice gets even louder, stampeding over yours, “you know?! well then why the hell did you do it?!”

“i-i don’t know i just did it okay,” you huff, voice trembling slightly.

trying to stifle any sound that you were in pain from rising. you knew damn well why you let it happen and let those loser goons spot you.

you and jason were out on patrol and happened to stumble upon the group of goons running the cocaine batman had been looking for months for. you had them cornered until they had the shot of jason from the building directly behind him and they threatened to take the shot if you didn’t let them take the drugs.

it’s not like you’d let those fuckers have the drugs and resell them throughout gotham. no. but you weren’t gonna let them shoot jason either and that’s what got you hurt. after he shifted from behind jason to grab the duffle bags of cocaine being exchanged, you lunged back towards him, slicing through the bag. and in anger, he sliced through you. that was enough for the rest of them to chase after you while you shouted for jason to, “fucking run todd!”

he hasn’t shut up about it since then.

his jaw clenches as he steps closer to where you hovered over the couch armrest, “you lead those assholes right to us, i need to know why,”

you slip onto the couch, keeping a firm hand to the stab wound, “i didn’t mean for them to follow us, they just did!”

“for a smart girl, jesus, you do some idiotic things sometimes!” he moves even closer, towering over you now. you nod as you sink into the couch.

at this point you were hardly listening, just trying to keep yourself upright and awake. you were a little surprised to how he didn’t notice you holding your side, but maybe it was your black and red suit masking the blood seeping through it or maybe jason was just to mad to care. either way way, you keep nodding at him, trying to get rid of him so you could lay down.

he furrows his brows, “what the fuck are you nodding at me for?” to which you didn’t have an answer.

he shifts closer, “you’re really gonna mess up patrol, nearly have us killed, and then lay on the couch? like you did nothing?”

biting back a seething wince, you retort, “what do you want me to say jason… i know i messed up, i’m sorry, can we move on?” leaning your head back on the couch, letting it rest on the edge of the headrest. you let out a soft groan from the stretch but he doesn’t notice, still too angry to realize.

you knew you were being stubborn by not telling him, but jason was being a complete ass too. you also knew him well enough that he would be even more pissed at you for not telling him what happened in the first place.

it was like a cycle at this point, and you’d recognized how he could filter through them and ultimately end on self depreciation. first he’d get mad, then he’d get sad, finally he’d reach his crescendo of brooding that made you question if you should make him finally see a therapist. of course he wouldn’t let you though, he was convinced reading something on psychology would probably be better. because, he was just as stubborn as you after all.

and honestly, at this point, you were damn exhausted and wanted him to shut up so you could lay down.

but alas, he’s standing over you now, finger in your face.

“why the hell did you do it then hmm? you led those dickheads right to us! they fucked with my damn bike!” he pouts slightly.

you can’t help but huff out a laugh, biting the inside of your cheek when it rumbles your stomach, “you care more for the bike then? don’t worry toddy, i’ll get you a new one.” your head lolling back again.

“just give me a minute would you? you can use mine for now.” you vaguely gesture to the key in your pocket but are too lazy to pull it out.

thinking you were just being cheeky, he moves closer, grabbing your chin. his grip was not hard. it was just enough to make you face him.

“ah ow, fuck jason!” you exclaim, pushing at his grip but it tightens.

he brings his face close to yours, “the next time you pull that shit on patrol, it will be your last,” his eyes briefly flicker to your lips, where you were biting hard enough to draw blood.

your hand slips from your wound before pressing back in and hissing at him, just enough for it to be mistaken for just a sneer at his attitude.

the hot headed idiot still doesn’t notice.

“you’re not even sorry are you? we blew the operation and you’re still,” he eyes you shamelessly and scoffs, “smug as ever.”

you pull your chin from his grip. his hand lingers there, following your movement and gently grazing your face. his thumb swiping away the drop of blood you’d drawn from biting your lip too hard. as if taking in your appearance for the first time, his eyes flicker to your lips again.

“why’re you…” he trails off looking you up and down, “are you okay?” his demeanour completely shifting.

his eyes shift up to yours and he looks at you with less anger.

was it concern?

“what happened?” he deadpans.

“nothing,” you shift uncomfortably, not used to the proximity with him.

his hand near your face stays in the air, hovering. he narrows his eyes and stares for a moment. then, suddenly he’s sitting next to you and touching up and down your arms trying to feel for something wrong with you. you don’t answer him, he sighs.

“why won’t you ever just give me a straight answer?”

“oh god, please just spare me the fake caring act alright? i’m here because i want the black mask gone as much as bruce does,” you say with a bitter tone.

you and jason had never really gotten along. he was always reserved and didn’t have patience, rushing into things without thinking them through first. jason would head into a gunfight with nothing but his fists just to feel something.

but so would you. and maybe that’s why he scared you so much.

he reminded you of yourself.

he scoffs at you, anger seething from his tone, “what makes you think i don’t care huh?”

you blink at him, knitting your brows together. fingers still pressing into the wound that’s sending white hot flashes up your body, “i know you don’t care let alone like me todd, so just save that shit for someone who’d believe you.”

he shifts roughly on the couch, causing it to dip slightly and you groan softly as it makes you move too.

he notices this time.

“you’re hurt,” he states rather than asks you.

you do your best to glare at him, “i’m fine,” he immediately interrupts, “like hell you are.”

“don’t change the subject jason.”

“me? you’re the one trying to confuse me!” he throws his hands up exasperated, “look okay, i do care. more than you know.”

“you sure have a funny way of showing it,” you mutter and he brings his ear closer to your lips.

“what was that? you’re mumbling sweetheart, say it with your chest,” he’s practically pressing his ear to your face.

you knew what he was trying to do, cause it’s what he always does to get you to stop ignoring him. he’s trying to annoy you. trying to get a reaction out of you.

typical of someone with brothers.

you shove him away from you with your gloved hand, weaker than usual so it hardly moves him.

“i said you treat me like shit. so excuse me for thinking you don’t care about me,” you say staring right at him, faces far enough to see every feature but close enough to feel his breath against your cheek.

“and you’re a cunt,” you say finally, just wanting to get that bit out.

he barks out a laugh and rests his hand on your thigh. the action sending shivers down your spine. almost distracting you from the pain.

almost.

until jason moves abruptly again.

his hand wraps around your shoulders as he pulls you into a side hug, the movement pulling on the muscles and the skin of your wound. it felt like a dagger was being dragged down your ribs and salt was poured directly inside. a metallic taste floods your mouth immediately. but you show no indication of your suffering. not yet.

“things like this aren’t easy for me okay,” he admits and you freeze.

was jason talking about his feelings?

“g—go on,” you prompt him, not feeling confident enough to speak right now and also wanting him to open up to you more.

he sighs, “i care… okay? i care a lot more than i’d like to admit.”

you keep staring at him, partially because you’re worried if you say something, you might make him stop. also because you didn’t know if it would come out as a pained groan.

he takes your silence as an invitation to keep speaking because jason doesn’t like awkward air hanging between them. he lets go of you and runs his hand through his hair.

“i didn’t mean to get mad at you, you just—you just frustrate me okay!”

you nod again as if you were understanding and he continues.

“you question me and push my buttons, and try to take shots for me like i’m not a grown man who’s literally come back from the dead!” he says his voice growing a little louder, “and today you did it again! you blew our cover and you don’t even have the decency to tell me why, so i’m forced to assume you’re just fucking with me again.” his voice softens at the end.

“jason, i swear, i only blew it cause i knew it was gonna end badly alright,” you say and sit up straighter, the feeling of sharp pain being pushed up your side and down your spine, you settled back down, “you have to believe me.” you say through partially gritted teeth.

he looks at you like he’s pleading with you now, “i’m trying to, but you’re still lying to me. i know it.” his irises blown wide, “it’s not easy for me… to trust i mean.”

your gaze softens at the sight of him.

his vulnerability was rare.

“okay, f—fine,” you say forcing yourself to sit completely upright with the support of your free hand, the one clutched to your wound on the opposite side to him, “they were gonna kill you. alright?”

he laughs humourlessly, “kill me? yeah, i’m sure, they could try though. i’d like to see it,” you roll your eyes at his confident demeanour.

“no asshole, they had a gun. on you. you just didn’t see it cause you were too busy watching me,” you finally admit, letting the reality sink in for him.

he thinks on it, you swear you can see the gears turning in his head.

“that’s why you ran at me? why there was powder on your knuckles?” he says softly.

when you nod, his eyes soften, “you didn’t want them to have the drugs either so you cut through their coke supply didn’t you?” you nod again.

he runs a hand through his hair, the white streak bouncing back forward onto his forehead.

“i guess you want me to thank you now huh? for saving me?” he says reluctantly. he was used to people doing things only as favours for him. always wanting something in return.

he was used to being used. his interactions before you were mostly transactional.

you shake your head, “no, i just want you to understand. i’m sorry i blew our cover but i’m not sorry for how i did it.”

he blinks at you and then purses his lips. letting the truth sink in and tangle with his reality.

you saved him.

you care too.

he smiles to himself then to back up at you, taking your hand in his. slowly, he brings your hand up to his lips, pressing the soft plump skin of his lips to the gloved leather of your hand.

“thank you, princess.”

the action makes your breath hitch, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. his irises blown out in adoration.

you push that feeling down and ignore the blood rushing to your core.

you abruptly stand and clear your throat, “you’re uh, you’re welcome. i’m gonna go change.” and you leave him there as quickly as you could.

your body protesting as you stride hard away, ignoring the burning in your stomach and the feeling of jason’s lips having touched your skin.

jason stays there, watching you walk toward the bathroom, dumbfounded. you’re already down the hall and closing the door when he quietly murmurs.

“and i’m sorry.”

the cut wasn’t too deep and the bleeding had stopped. at least.

you’re sitting on the floor of the bathroom, your black suit already pushed down to your hips as you bite off a piece of thread.

you’d been struggling to thread the needle for almost 20 minutes now, groaning quietly to yourself when it would miss again. your fingers were trembling at this point and stained as your gloves laid on the tiled floor.

with shakily hands, you finally give up on threading it and opt for stapled stitches.

whatever right? same shit?

you pull out bruce’s first aid kit from the cabinet and rummage through it. you know he has it, you’ve seen alfred use it on him before. but even bruce winced when alfred stapled his wounds shut and you knew that if he was wincing, you might as well be screaming.

your fingers dance over the plastic holding the metal stapler. you unwrap it. blooding covering everything you touch, but you weren’t worried about that now, you can clean it up after.

you pick up the leathered glove and stuff it in your mouth, biting down to muffle your sounds.

hands still trembling, you slowly pull the skin taut and groan into the glove. you press the metal to the skin and close your eyes, knowing it’s probably not a good idea to close them now but you know it’s about to hurt. then take a deep breath, clicking the staple down quickly. sharp steering pain shoots up your body, lingering through your fingers.

you did not know what you were doing at all.

you can’t help the yelp you make as the first staple closes down and the glove slips from your teeth. the whimpers that leave your throat were quiet. soft and barely audible.

but jason still heard them.

jason is on the couch, staring at his red mask he’d thrown there earlier.

he was beating himself up for being mean to you when you’d been trying to help him. he was also trying (and failing) to not think about how you’d basically just shut him down.

he bites the inside of his cheek.

a sound in the bathroom distracts him from his thoughts. he turns his head immediately when he hears a whimper.

soft and muffled, but he hears it.

he’s on his feet, stealthily moving towards the door. he knocks when he hears another muffled sound.

he calls out your name, “you okay?”

you call back from behind the door, “f—fine,” your voice shaky enough for red flags to raise in his mind. he presses a hand to the door. thoughts racing. he asks the first question on his mind.

“you on your period?” he scratches his head with his other hand.

you snicker despite the pain, “no…”

“taking a shit?”

you laugh again. this time ending it with a wince.

he furrows his brows, knowing you’re hiding something, “fuck it, i’m coming in regardless.”

you panic, the room was not nearly clean enough for him to come in without suspecting a thing.

you yell out before he can twist the knob, “no—yes, i am. i’m on my period and i—i’m taking a dump jason, stay out there—”

but it’s no use.

you forgot to lock the door and he pushed it open.

his eyes land on you and they immediately drop to the sight on your torso. his mouth gaping at you as you sit on ground, a bloodied metal stapler in your hands. fingerprints of blood across the white tiles and staining your hands.

it looked like a fucking crime scene.

“jesus, why didn’t you say something?” he kneels next to you, taking the stapler from your shaky hands. he’s being extra gentle. careful not to move you.

“i didn’t wanna worry you,” you breathe out, brows knitting together at his genuine concern. your hand rests on your leg now that he took the stapler.

“and this? why are you using this? i could’ve stitched you up properly,” he shakes his head head, stammering, “fuck, did this happen because of me?”

when you don’t answer he sucks in a breath, already knowing the answer and shifts closer to you. he gently touches the skin around the wound and winces as if it hurt him too.

you huff out a weak laugh, “sorry, i’m making a lot of mistakes today.”

he shakes his head and shifts even closer to you, “shut up.” his hands move, one under your knees and one to your back, lifting you off the ground. keeping you close to his chest, he stands.

he walks out of the bathroom door and further down the hall, reaching his bedroom. he gently places you on his bed. a fuzzy grey blanket greets your aching skin as you settle on something soft rather than the hard cold floor. he’s careful not to agitate your wound.

“don’t move,” he warns before giving you one last look, disappearing in his closet. you weren’t about to protest. you drop your head back on his pillow, breathing in the scent of him lingering from the comforter. the faint scent of him lingers in the room and greets your nostrils, you can’t help but revel in it.

he returns a moment later with supplies in his hands, his suit pushed down to his hips. a black compression shirt peeking out.

“i’m gonna stitch this up properly alright?” you nod and he starts working.

leaning over you and moving with practiced precision, he stitches you up like he knew exactly what to do. he takes the single staple you had put in out with a tool you didn’t quite understand. telling you to squeeze his hand when it hurts too much but he takes your hand without you having to. he had been taking care of his own wounds for years, so he really did know what he was doing. and he was much gentler than you were being to yourself earlier.

he looks up to make sure he wasn’t hurting you every few seconds. eyes threatening to water at the sight of you getting hurt, for him. he works quickly stitching you up, trying not to prolong it for you. he knew you’d been in pain and covering it up for him and you knew how in his head he could get.

gently removing the dried blood around the wound, he pulls out a piece of gauze and a bandage, carefully wrapping the wound.

“there. all done.” his hand lingers on your hip a moment too long before straightening himself upward.

he moves to get off the bed.

“wait, jay,” the nickname makes him freeze and turns toward you, “i’m sorry.”

he seats himself back down fully, still on the edge of the bed, “what do you have to apologize for? i was a dick to you and here you were, taking a knife to the rib for me.” his words laced with malice toward himself.

you huff, “i did that, not you. you didn’t know,” he says nothing so you continue, “and i meant for earlier, when you were being vulnerable with me.”

he gulps at your words.

“pfft, its fine. don’t worry,” he starts, trying to downplay it but you’re not having it.

“no, dammit, it’s not fine. you were being honest and i was just avoiding it,” you admit, stepping out of the your avoidant tendencies you both had.

he raises a brow, “and what were you avoiding exactly?”

“that i care too jay. maybe a little too much.”

he stares at you for a moment, contemplating. then his hand moves to take yours, squeezing gently when he laces his fingers with it.

“what’s wrong with caring about eachother?”

you blink at him sitting up against the headboard right now. both your hands still clutched together, “i dunno, i guess i just thought you hated me before.”

he shakes his head, shifting himself closer to you, knees brushing against yours, “i could never hate you princess.”

“you don’t hate me?”

he shakes his head in response.

“i thought—i thought you didn’t like me or maybe cassandra had a problem with me since we always have missions—” he cuts you off.

“what does cassandra have to do with any of this?” he says coldly.

“aren’t you guys like… a thing?” you genuinely ask. you’d been suspecting them together for months, and they definitely seemed comfortable.

his response is immediate, “fuck no. what? what would give you that impression… i don’t like her at all.” exaggerating with his faked scoffs.

“well don’t go belittling her now… i just thought you were together.” you sigh, feeling embarrassed for suspecting them together.

he presses his lips together before giving you a stern look staring like he was reading your mind. he knew you too well, maybe better than you knew yourself.

he shifts one of your legs to the side, maneuvering you gently by your knee, before settling himself between them. you gasp softly but don’t stop him. his hands shift from yours to your hips, making mindless circles as his eyes bore into yours.

you could see them softening at the sight of you.

you could feel his demeanour shifting at your proximity.

“it’s always been you.” his irises blown out just like before when he was watching you.

“m-me?” stammering your words and he confirms it with a nod, trailing his hands up to your waist.

holding you there.

“yeah, you. it’s always been you,” a soft kiss to your cheek sends a shiver down your spine.

then works his way down.

his lips trail down your jaw then to your neck, pulling out a soft moan.

“jason,” the heat pooling between the two of you. he smiles against your neck and you can visualize his expression without even seeing his face.

“tell me you don’t want me. tell me to stop. i’ll stop right now.”

then he looks back up at you and you bite you lip. jason looked so beautiful, his skin flushed slightly, voice dripping with desire. he smiled at you and you felt your heart skip a beat.

it was rare.

and god it was a beautiful sight.

“i want you,” the breathless words come out effortlessly, even though he’d barely touched you.

like a moth to a flame, he wastes no time crashing his lips into yours. he breathes you in deeply and moans into your mouth. rough calloused hands work gently as they trail up to hold your head in place. the gasp that escapes you is utilized as an invitation to put his tongue inside, slipping against yours as his fingers lace through your hair and tug to open you up more. he’s slowly getting more aggressive with his kisses, like a man starved. you could feel him shaking with the anticipation, or maybe it was him holding back. you couldn’t tell and you didn’t care right now. the only thing on your mind was him.

he lays you back down on the mattress and you drag him down with you by the neckline of his shirt. he stays between your legs, careful not to put his weight on you, momentarily parting from you but you pull him back down harder, biting his bottom lip between your teeth. like a promise.

he groans so beautifully.

finally, he pulls back. heavy panting and lips swollen.

“fuck baby,” his pink lips stayed parted as he took sharp gulps of air. you’d made him breathless.

you stare back up at him. with his cheeks slightly reddened and his lips swollen from kissing you too hard. you can’t help but bite your lip. he groans again at the sight.

“don’t do that,” he almost whines, “not when i can’t really have you right now.”

“who says you can’t have me?” you retort, your hand moving up to the nape of his head, holding him there.

he hisses at the feeling, “me, i do. i’m not risking hurting you.”

this time you groan and let go of his hair, “i’m a grown woman jason, i will be fine. i’m telling you that i want you.”

he stares down at you, his hair draping over his forehead as he leans over you, “i’m not fucking you like this. not until you’re healed.”

you’re about to protest again when he shifts down to the balls of his feet, hands grazing over your thighs.

“but i never said i couldn’t make you feel good.”

you feel heat rise to your cheeks as he pulls his black shirt off and reveals his toned abs. mouth watering at the sight.

you have seen him shirtless before, but not like this.

your eyes follow the faint lines of his autopsy scars.

you snap back to what he’s about to do when he hooks his fingers into the fabric of your suit. he tugs the fabric at your hips and starts dragging it down.

“jason, you really don’t have to,” you start, watching him pull the suit completely off your legs and tossing it to the floor. it falls on top of his black shirt.

“i want to.”

he immediately presses kisses to the inside of your knee, “i’ve wanted to for a long, long time.” his lips dragging up your inner thighs.

you let out a soft whimper when he reaches a sensitive spot. he purposefully sucks the skin there, leaving a love bite. you arch off the bed and his hands drag up your body, gripping at your hips to keep you from moving too far.

“you’re so beautiful,” he breathes against your skin, moving his lips to your bare stomach, “so gorgeous.” he licks down to the trim of your panties.

his fingers hook themselves with your panties and pull them down slowly. he sucks in air with every new inch of you he can see. his tongue darts out and wets his lips. once he finally pulls them off, he tucks them in his back pocket.

“fuck, you’re hot,” he says staring down at you laid out for him.

you giggle and his eyes flicker back up to yours, coming up to kiss you again. more passion and desire evident in his kisses now, before he moves to settle back down on his knees for you.

he pushes your legs apart again, ghosting his breath over your core. his stomach nearly flat on the bed while he’s looking up through his lashes, “you can still tell me to stop okay? at any point.”

you run a hand down your stomach and up through his hair, he leans into it, “jason, i’m not running away.”

you make sure he’s looking at you when you speak, “i want you.”

eyes full of desire and heat. he gives you a grin and kisses the skin on your lower stomach.

“good,” and he licks a stripe up your core and you jolt up.

“f—fuck,” you gasp out as he continues, groaning into you. he licks up again, eyes never shifting from yours.

he wants to drink in every reaction, every gasp, every moan.

he doesn’t wanna miss any of it.

“you taste so fucking good,” he moans into you as you arch your back again, gripping his hair tighter. he’s groaning into you and lapping at you with a purpose, like this was more for him than for you.

“t—this isn’t fair,” you whine.

he chuckles, the sound rumbling and vibrating through your core.

“what’s not fair?” he stops moving his mouth on you and suddenly bites your inner thigh. you gasp again, “hmm? tell me? cause i can tell you what’s not fair.”

he dives back in, eating you out like he’s starved.

writhing beneath him, one of his palms flat on your stomach to keep you from running away.

he speaks between licks, grinning up at you like this was his new favourite task, “you shouldn’t be taking hits for me, that’s what’s not fair.” his hands cup your ass and pull you in closer to him like he couldn’t possibly get enough, “you’ve been holding this out from me, and that’s really not fair.”

moaning out, both of your hands now reach down for his hair. begging at this point, “jay, oh god, please.”

he hums appreciatively into you as you whimper at how the vibrations feel against you.

“yeah?” he parts again for a moment. “please what, princess?” you look down to see the devilish grin on his face, his chin glistening with the essence of you. he looked so good you could’ve came right there.

oh my god, he’s gonna be the death of me.

“please don’t stop,” you breathe out staring down at him through glossy eyes. he already had you where he wanted you.

“you don’t have to worry about that, pretty girl. i’m not going to stop,” he turns his head and places gentle kisses to your palm that juxtapose to when he leans back in, sucking at that bundle of nerves that make you cry out.

he softly takes it between his teeth, still staring up at you with his pretty eyes. he tugs and watches you squirm, sucking it in again and groaning, knowing its effect on you.

letting go with a little pop, he shifts back down to where you wanted him the most. a breathy moan escapes you again, panting out soft calls of his name as he works you. his palms rub at your backside as he works his muscle into you.

then without warning, he slips a finger in and your head drops back into the mattress, unable to watch him anymore. he’s like a man on a mission, trying to get you there like he would die if he couldn’t. one of his hands snake between you and he runs circles around your clit. the reaction is immediate, you grip his hair so tight, you thought you might rip his hair out. but you didn’t care and neither did he. he moans into you, rutting himself into the mattress. another finger slips in effortlessly and you moan obscenely.

the pressure was building fast. he was lapping at you as if it was the only meal on earth and he had been starving. his eyes remains on yours as his thumb rubbed faster.

and faster.

“come on, give it to me,” he pants into you, not stopping his ministrations.

he kept grinding into the mattress as he worked you harder, chasing his own high. but you were already there, tears forming and your body convulsing. pushing his head further down on you as he worked you through the high.

he was relentless, not stopping until you finally came just like he wanted. he moans against you again and his hips falter, stopping their movements.

his mouth didn’t stop though, kittening licking at you until you were practically crying at the stimulation and pushing his head away. finally he pulls from you, with a few wet kisses up to your lower stomach before he looks back up to you.

you waste no time pulling him up into a kiss, not caring for the taste of you on his lips. the kiss was slower, like he was trying to memorize the feeling of you.

when you parted, you finally took in how flushed he was, how worked up you made him.

you reach down for him and his hand stops you immediately.

“no, tonight was about you,” he says still breathless, a satisfied smile lingering on his handsome face.

“but what about you?” you protest, trying to reach again but he doesn’t let you.

his fingers lace with yours again.

“oh trust me, i’m okay,” he gestures sheepishly to the wet stain on his crotch. your eyes widen in realization.

he got off on getting you off.

you smile so wide, it might look like it hurts. then you pull him back down into a sweet kiss. he returns it, deepening the kiss impossibly before you pull back to speak.

“tomorrow then.”

“please,” he begs over the phone, “i’ll be good i swear. i’ll stop fighting just let me come home.”

from his tone you could tell he was just done crying and it just sounded pathetically beautiful.

“this is not your home. this is my house.” you coo as you stir your dinner. “stop calling me dex.”

you hang up without listening to the rest of his pleading. though less than 10 minutes later, he’s at your front door, begging again.

“baby,” eyes red and puffy, “i need you, i can’t breathe without you. please, please, don’t cut me off again, just—” he breathes as he ghosts his arm by your shoulders like he’s asking for permission. “can i please stay?”

you sigh and let him inside the house. he silently walks in, muttering a quiet thank you as he passes you. as soon as you close door and turn, dex is already on his knees.

“what the hell are you doing dex?”

dropping to his knees, his hands caress the backs of your thighs, dropping his head and burying it between them. gripping you tightly like he could bare letting go. “please take me back. nothing is good without you and it’s making me fucking sick, please,” practically blubbering at this point.

he was so strong and his biceps wrapped around you effortlessly. you could feel the strength just radiating off of him always, like an ever glowing essence.

you sigh, hand touching the nape of his neck and travelling up through his hair while he hums in contentment, “please stand up.”

the sound that he makes was teetering the line of desperation and relief. his lips press against the plush of your thigh while his hands rise to cup your ass. with your hand still buried in his hair, you pull him up with a slight tug, trying to get him to stand. though he keeps slowly rising, kissing up your side and dancing over your stomach, the fabric rising with every movement. a soft gasp escapes your lips and his touch slides up your spine, a shiver running through you. he stops just by your neck when you tug his hair harder and he hisses your name though one would argue it was a moan. you shove him gently and tell him to sit down, though you knew he could’ve stopped you.

you tend to his wounds and wipe his face and he watches you the whole time with puppy eyes. you share your dinner with him but you don’t touch again then, he only steals glances between bites.

within the span of an hour he’s inching closer to you on the couch and he’s watching you when he thinks you’re not looking. no one really cares about the news playing on the television as it repeats something about the AVTF.

his heavy hand rests just under your chest as he pulls you in and buries his nose in your hair, taking a long deep breath in. memorizing your scent like it gave him life.

by the end of night dex is situated between your legs, groaning like it hurts to part from you. he whispers soft thank you’s like he’s grateful for this meal you’ve provided. pushing your legs up higher over his head while you pant and squirm. but dex takes more control then, ignoring your pleas to slow down and dragging you closer to his mouth. maw slack and relentless as he laps and teases. his strong arms wrap and hook around your thighs. tongue teasing the sensitive bud for what felt like eternity. you’ll push his head away to no avail, weakly spent as you attempt it.

“dex, enough. i can’t,” you pant, voice bordering on barely concealed exhaustion and blissful satisfaction.

he shakes his head against you and that only makes you gasp again, throwing your head back.

“not until you promise hmm?” he says between his drunken moans, “you can’t leave me.”

crying out from overstimulating pleasure you nod, “okay, fuck— i won’t. you can stay.”

looking up at you through his hooded eyes, he smiles with them before kissing your inner thigh. he leaves gentle kisses to let you cool off, letting the feeling subside for barely a minute before diving right back into his ministrations. he lets you squeeze yours legs around his head and writhe as you say his name.

“now really try to suffocate me with these,” he says as he squeezes your thighs harder around his neck, turning his head to bite the plush of your thighs.

you know you’ll let him in again. you’ll always let him come back. maybe one day you’ll tell him how you follow him too.