#smutish

your eyes trailed up the long expanse of her body, eyes stopping at the swell of her chest, rising and falling softly with each breath. "welcome home kitten." her deep voice sent shivers down your spine and your eyes up, making eye contact with her.

her lips were quirked into a small smirk, a smirk that said she knew exactly what you were looking at- not that she ever minded.

making quick steps toward her you were stopped before you even got onto the bed, that familiar buzz of rest mist curling around your waist. "ah, ah, ah sweetie, shower first." her words made you groan, head thrown back before you looked at her again, a pout on your lips. she chuckled, sitting up and pushing her fingers against your chest softly.

"you know the rules."

with a huff you turned around, practically running to the bathroom and rushing through your night routine. stumbling out of the bathroom, one foot getting caught on your underwear, you moved quick, launching yourself onto the bed and right on top of sylus. already anticipating your actions, she wrapped you in her arms, legs spread around the weight of your body.

you wiggled around before shoving your face into her chest, nuzzling against the warm skin. her fingers traced patterns on your skin, swirling around mindless shapes across your back and neck.

“long day?" sylus asked, a small smile on her lips when you groaned into her breasts. her legs wrapped around you, locking you against her. not that you were complaining.

your lips pressed soft kisses against the swell of her chest, teeth scraping across the skin every so often. on days like this all you wanted was one thing— to suck on your girlfriends tits until you passed out and had the best sleep of your life. and she always provided, her hand that was on your back moved to your head, twirling the strands around.

"take what you need, beloved."

placing a kiss on over her heart, your hand pulled the flimsy top of her negligee down, her big boobs spilling out completely. mouth watering, you nuzzled against her nipple before taking it into your mouth, sucking on the perked bud softly. sylus moaned quietly, hand steady on your head to anchor you to her, the other taking her glasses off and placing them neatly on the bedside table.

warmth spread across your body, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of her heavy breasts crowding your face. your hand came up to her other breast, cupping the fat and squeezing it gently, almost using it like a stress ball. sylus relaxed into the pillows, red eyes full of love as she watched you suck at her nipple for comfort.

One day on set, you noticed that there were provided binders for certain roles. You being you, you nicked one, and when you entered Colt's trailer to spend your break time with him, he couldn't help but notice the lack of something.

You yourself couldn't help but notice his lingering glances.

"Colt. Why do you keep staring at my chest?" You sounded curious yet smug.

Colt stammered before spitting it out, "Well i just couldn't help but notice that... there's something missing?"

You stared at him blankly, raising your brows.

"Where are your amazing boobs?" His head tilted and you broke into an amused smile. Only Colt would notice something like that.

"There in the same place that they're always in? I'm wearing a binder."

"Ohhh.. why?" Well that was a better reaction that it could've been.

"Just feels better. Don't tell anyone though, I kinda robbed it from the costumes people." You looked away sheepishly, only looking back at him when you felt his hands grip your sides.

"You're secrets safe with me, baby." Colt leaned down to press his lips to yours, a feeling blossomed within you, fluttering in your abdomen.

He wanted to show you that you could trust him with anything, that no matter what he would love you. Boobs or no boobs.

"Mm." He moaned quietly before pulling away slightly. "So... can I see it?"

A chuckle left your lips before your hands snaked down to the hem of your shirt, lifting the fabric to reveal the binder that wrapped around your chest, compressing your breasts.

You sighed when he ran his hands along your front, arching only a little into him.

"You better not wear this like crazy, I need you alive and breathing, or else we can't make out like usual." His voice was firm but still gentle.

"Don't worry, Colt, I won't. Just for a little while."

"Good. If not ill just take it off myself." He threatened jokingly.

"Calm down, stuntman." You teased back, "You can trust me."

"Mhm." He agreed, leaning in for a kiss, your fingers threading through his bleached strands. The pair of you deepened it until you pulled away.

"How many stunts you got left today?" You wondered.

"Hmm. Onlyyy.. three small ones." Colt hummed.

"Only? I better not see you with the medics later."

"You wont." He paused. "I hope." He winked.

You punched his arm lightly, brows furrowed, then followed it with another kiss because he's obsessed with your lips. "I'm being serious!"

"So am I!" He copied your tone, cheesing.

He carried on after your confused expression, "Your binder. If I see you afterwards and that thing isn't off–" "Okay, okay! I get it. Jeez." You snickered.

As the day was wrapping up, you and colt had a quiet journey back to his seaside apartment–both being pretty tired after a long day of recording scenes and doing re-takes and for him: doing multiple stunts.

Since it had been a day of focus and intricacies, you had your head in the clouds a little bit, just being glad to finally spend a night with your boyfriend.

You and Colt decided to order takeout since you were both too fatigued to make a big meal, settling for cuddling on the couch as the TV plays some nonsense instead.

It only took a few minutes of lying still to realise your chest had been hurting a little more than usual, that thought reminded you of the fact you were still wearing the stolen binder. Well shit...

"Uh, not to alarm you, Colt, but i kinda forgot to take off the binder." You murmured.

"You– baby, I told you this would happen." He sighed in amusement, sitting up properly so you were arm to arm, turning his head to you.

"Didn't you say you'd take it off for me?" You teased, wiggling your brows.

"Yes. Yes I did, and i always keep my promises." He agrees, hands already finding the hem of your shirt as he gently lays you on the couch, holding himself above you with his other limb.

You watched soundly as he removed the thin cloth, revealing the fabric of the binder, compressing your chest and making it just a little harder to breathe. Oh, and you couldn't forget about the ache in your back.

"God, you know how dangerous this was? I get you might feel more comfortable without them but you can't wear it this long, babe."

And you even had the nerve to roll your eyes at his concern.

"What was that? Did you just–?" He laughed, baffled.

"Maybe I did, maybe i didn't, you gonna take this off me yet? They're sore..." you whined playfully, knowing he was getting fustrated.

Colt growled just faintly, but you still heard it, clearly he was trying to keep himself composed.

Rough fingertips trailed up your sides and along the fabric of the binder to the straps, carefully lifting them and soon enough safely removing the binder.

Your breasts finally free from the compression, he leaned his head down, nuzzling his face within the valley between the two soft mounds, letting out a deep, gravelly sigh, even breathing in your scent.

"Oh, that's so much better..." A breathe you didn't know you had been holding spilled from your lips and you tilted your head back against the couches arm.

"How sore are they?" He didn't even require an answer before he cupped your boobs with his hands, keeping his thumb clear from your nipples as to not cause any pain just incase they're sensitive.

"Hmph... 6/10." You concluded.

"Okay.. that's not so bad, but it's still not good." Colt scolded, thinking you were listening while you relished in the feeling of his fondling. Colt's hands are the perfect size for your chest to fit in each palm, and his passion just added on to that.

After moments of massaging your aching breasts as well as licking them, sucking your nipples and leaving trails of wet kisses in-between them, he decides it's questionnaire time.

His head rested on your chest while your fingers threaded through his bleach-blonde tips. "So, why did you steal it in the first place?"

"Hm, I've always wanted a binder. Sometimes I love my boobs... but most of the time they're just in the way, and i feel like it'd be easier without them." Your voice was soft as you spoke, opening up about how you felt.

"But they're beautiful?" Colt mumbled, glancing up at you.

"Yeahhh." You agreed with a small sigh, then added, "With the binder on, I just feel more... me. It just feels right."

He nodded, understanding how you felt. "Well, I'll buy you an actual one, so you don't have to use a stolen one from the costumes department."

A smile graced your lips at his open support and even spoiling connotation. "Really?" He nodded against your skin, his expression mirroring your own.

A beat of comfortable silence passed before Colt spoke up, "Do you wanna talk more about it? Like.. how you feel inside?"

"Hmmaybe another day when I've gotten more sleep." Your words turned into a yawn from just talking about it and he agreed, knowing the long day had wrecked you both.

"That's fine with me, baby."

P.S : I put a lot more thought into the second half...

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Taglist: @cosmicyeehaw @stxrrrdusttt @lauuispunk @pixiebuggz @ken-dom @marstheflower16 @qardasngan @storyofhappytorment @avocado-writing

Jason never thought he would find someone so easy to be with. Someone so easy to love and to give love back to. You had your ups and downs like any other couple, but you work together perfectly. Like if this were a dance, you two knew the choreography back and forth.

Both of you were broken in your own way. Jason had his own problems with himself with opening up and communication, but you accept it, but that didn't make you perfect. You didn't trust anybody so easily. Most of the time, you didn't even let Jason help you with your own leads and went alone, believing you could handle it on your own, but Jason was always there. Lurking in the shadows to jump in if you need it.

You knew, you always knew. He worried, and sometimes you believed he worried too much about what was really at stake. You knew he worried when you both were making dinner after a long patrol, and you rolled your sleeves up, making him see your scars all over your arms. It didn't matter what they were. Gunshot wound, cuts, burns. They were there for Jason to see, but nobody else.

Jason noticed how you only wear long sleeves everywhere you go, didn't matter if it was a sweater, a hoodie of Jason's or yours, shirts with long sleeves, or even separate sleeves to cover your arms. If somebody asked you, you would dismissive as ‘you were always cold’, but Jason knew better.

He never asks about them. He doesn't ask if they hurt or if they are new, nothing. Jason is pure silence. But you notice the stare he gives you, how, while you cut the vegetables or whip whatever dough you were doing, he always saw them. How does your skin even bend to a cut or a burn when they are too deep, but he didn't say anything, not even a sound.

You also noticed how, when he ends his own patrols, he waits for you on the rooftop of your apartment. Waiting for you. It doesn't matter if he has to wait thirty minutes, one hour, three hours, or even five hours for you to get there. He would always be there, sitting, waiting for you. When he finally feels your presence take place beside him is always the same dialogue, but you don't get tired of it.

“Everything well?” He would ask, looking up at you.

“Everything is fine,” You would respond. Sometimes it could be a lie since the next morning you would have a bruise on your side or some new cut that he hadn't seen before, but deep down, hearing you come back and say that everything was fine was enough to calm him after a long night of waiting. 

But today was not one of those days. The sun set, and the city began to calm down. But still, there was not a sight of you. Jason waited, and waited. Hoping to hear from you soon. To see your silhouette showing around a rooftop close by. To perceive the sweet smell of vanilla of your shampoo. Something. But it didn't appear, and Jason was getting worried by the minute.

He came down. Change of clothes and still waited. The window to the apartment is open for you to come in. He was already looking for his laptop to start tracking you, because you wouldn't assume Jason would let you roam Gotham without a tracker attached to your boots.

Jason was getting anxious when he started the tracking. You had been away for more than ten hours now. It was not a behavior common of you; he wouldn't admit it, but he was worried. But then he heard it. The leather boots hitting the wood floor of your apartment while you get in. He stood up immediately, walking to you on long strides.

“Where have you been? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He said, hovering over you, looking for something new, for something to tell him you are on the bridge of the dead or worse.

“Everything is fine,” You mumbled in pain, but both of you knew it was a total lie. You managed to get into one of the bases of a gang you wanted to take out, but they managed to get to you. You thought it would be easy. In and out in no time. But you got distracted, and one hit went, and another came, and before you knew it, you were in such a bad shape you didn't even know how you got home. 

You had more bruises than you could count, cuts in your face, and you could even bet you had some broken ribs. But nothing you couldn't manage. But what you couldn't, was the guilt and the pain on the face of Jason. The only thing you didn't want was for him to worry. But he did. no matter what, he always did.

Jason didn't ask…like always. He helps you take off your suit, and then he sits you down on the couch. You could see his worry in every part of his expression. You couldn't keep the words in after so long.

“Ask,” You incite him to finally speak up. To ask everything he had never said to you. He hesitates while looking at your arms. Your scars are all over them as if they were tattoos all over each other. But then he speaks up.

“...What happened?” You were about to answer when he added, “What is new?”

You signed, not knowing where to start. The longer it took you to think, the more bewildered you felt to tell him. When Jason saw that you didn't say anything for a long time, he stood up. You thought he would leave. That he got tired of this, he would leave to think, and leave you alone in your home, but he extended his hand to you. He didn't say anything; he just waited for you to take it. And you did.

You stand up next to him, with a little help. Your hand is a contrast with his rough palm. 

He towered over you, but there wasn't something of a dominance in his demeanor; he just looked calm that your hand was in his. That this was the sunrise after the storm.

“What are you–” 

“I want to see your scars.” He murmured. It was a silent request for you to open completely to him. To trust him with your wounds.

“Jason...” You try to say, but then he insists.

“I want to see your scars,” He repeated, looking only into your eyes, never to your scars, only you. You were what kept him grounded, and he wanted to be the same thing with you by showing him all those wounds to him. All those scars you had decorating your body by not letting him completely in every fight you have had since you decided to live this kind of life.

“But–” You try to resist. To understand the wanting of all this, but he interrupted you again.

“Just… Please,” Jason was never of a pleading guy, but now he was. Because he wanted to see all the damage, what it was you, not some glimpse of it. He wanted all of you.

“...But why?” You muttered, wanting to understand, but deep down, you knew that you were asking because you were hesitating about showing him. You knew that if he saw you completely, there was no turning back. The fear of being seen fully by someone was eating you apart. It was something that no one had asked, but Jason did. 

Jason was different; he was something you had never had. You liked it, you like the difference from someone else. You liked the security he gave you. But was that enough for him not to step aside when you show him the wounds from the deep?

“I want to see how many times you have needed me and I wasn't there.” You look up at his eyes. His eyes were screaming at you. Pleading with you to let him. Let him be your anchor. 

So you gave in. 

You step aside. Jason didn't react, but you could see he was troubled. He thought he had done something wrong. That you were pulling away. Going away from him. But the touch of your hand on his hand rises softly and smoothly up to his arm. Calming him.

You started taking off your shirt softly, trying not to cause much pain for you and your probably broken ribs. You wince while at it. On a normal day, you would have complained about Jason helping you, but this wasn’t a normal day.

You let him help, and when you let your arms down the moment you felt the shirt fall somewhere around the room, he saw all of you. Your arms at full length, your neck, your shoulders, your breasts, your abdomen. He looked at your naked torso, but not because of some desire. It was because they were covered in scars, all your torso covered in them, making it seem like a mural of some kind.

Scars over each other, making it seem sometimes like just some bad formation of the body. cuts too wide, too unbelievable. Jason was looking at everything, and you could see his gaze piercing at you as if with it he could make them disappear.

You had to look away, feeling somehow judged by his gaze, but Jason didn't want to make you feel like that. It was never his intention. He took a step closer to you. Looking now at you. The scars were very visible now that he was towering over you, but he didn't care about them. He cupped your chin in his hand very softly, making you look up at him. He was gentler than you had ever seen him.

“I know it's bad, you don't–”

“You are glowing,” He whispered, making you stop what you were staring to say. His voice was like a balm to all wounds, old ones and new ones. 

You didn't answer. You just look up at him like his gaze keeps all the answers in the world. He started touching your scars softly. going from your shoulders, down to your arms and hands, managing a shiver from you.

“I can stop,” He said suddenly. Thinking the shiver was for another reason.

“No,” You answer too quickly, but you didn't care. You didn't want this moment to end so soon, and in such a high level of vulnerability.

He took another step closer, and now your chest was almost touching his. His breathing was so close to your exposed skin that it made another shiver go from your side, but you didn't care, and neither did Jason. His head came down to what looked like to kiss your neck, but in reality, he kissed your scar on your shoulder. His lips are soft and kind, like a balm being delivered into your skin by his lips.

He kissed all your scars, stopping to caress each one of them. He went everywhere but never to your chest; you knew that he thought he couldn't touch your breasts. That it was a boundary he shouldn't cross. You and Jason have had sex before, but never this far, never at this level. So you decided to make the first step.

“You can...touch,” you said hesitantly, but because you weren't used to talking about this with Jason, even after these long months with him. Jason was now behind you, kissing your back, every scar around it, and giving more teasing kisses on your shoulder blades, making you lean into them. The moment your words came out, he stopped to look at you. Thinking he heard you wrong.

“Are…Are you sure?” You stop to bite your lip to think if this really was a good idea, but Jason interrupts your judgment. “We don't have to if you don't–”

“I want to,” you said, turning to him. Now, his eyes are going into your breasts, but not in a filthy desire kind of way. It was more like asking for consent. For you to back away one last time. You just nodded and let him.

His kisses started softly, from your neck to your collarbone. nipping here and there but not sucking completely. Tonight, he wanted to be gentle with you, and he was gonna keep his word.

When Jason came into your chest, his kisses were more delivered and open-mouthed. One of his hands went around your waist, pulling you closer to him, making you gasp softly at the sudden proximity. His lips went to your nipple, tracing it with his tongue and suddenly sucking at it. His other hand was caressing your other breast, but it was also him tracing the scars on your left breast with his fingertips. A soothing touch to make you feel more sensitive and arch into him.

Which you did. Jason always knew how to touch you to make it comfortable, but also to make you feel with desire. He kissed all the way into your left breast, now giving it the attention it deserves. His lips are tracing every scar until his lips started sucking on your nipple as he did with the other one. You didn't moan, you just gasp at the touch, but your back was arching into him unconsciously.

Before you could notice, Jason was taking you by the back of your tights and lifting you, but still very gently. Taking you to your room. Jason has always been rough in bed; you didn't mind it. You even liked it that he was like that. But tonight was different. Tonight was not about his desire of him to make you his or about how many bruises you're gonna have the next morning. This was about making you realise that, no matter what happens. scars or no scars. He still likes to see you like the perfect paint he saw you as.

This was more like a practice for me to write smut, and I think I did quite well for me to be writing it at 1am. It was fun and I enjoyed it. But I took too long! But I'm getting better, and yeah... Jason is hot to write.

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