Frank Castle X Steve Rogers - Regret (ao3)

has this been done already

I think Jason should be allowed to manipulate his family with the "oh, you are my favourite, actually" line. It sounds very flattering to them (because Jason? Jason-I-Want-Nothing-To-Do-With-This-Family-Todd? Admitting you are his favourite? Oh, the hundred per cent bust of ego!) and more to say, this system of manipulation is eternal.

They can argue with each other as much as they want, but none of them would believe the other — Jason Todd is too tsundere to say something like this aloud, to each of them. So, someone is lying. For sure.

(And they are too self-assured in themselves to doubt that they are his favourite. Also, Jason makes every manipulation, specifically individual. So, it is not like he repeats the same confession and reasons. Very believable. Aka: this family needs someone to be open about their love, so they latch on everything and everyone who is willing to admit that openly)

Dick, slightly frustrated: Why are you asking me this favour? You know, I don't usually do these sort of things, I don't really... I don't know, it is too dangerous, I don't like the whole idea.

Jason, face dropping: Oh... Sorry. I shouldn't ask you, just... Dunno, I thought since you are my only big brother, and... Urgh, I guess I am still too attached to you more than to others. You are right. I'll ask Timbers or—

Dick, with his eyes suspiciously wet: oh-

Dick: NO, no. I'll do it. Don't worry. Big brother got your back, Lil Wing!

Tim, frowning: So, am I getting this right — you want me to hack into some system in someone's high school to fix the diploma of a kid who got a ONE bad grade—

Jason: He needs this scholarship. He is a kid of the streets! He can't do it otherwise, and it is not like the world would collapse if you fix one grade!

Tim: Yeah, I don't care about morals, I am just confused. Why would I want to spend my time on this, I am pretty sure—

Jason, dead ass serious: You know I don't like to communicate with this family. I only ever love talking with you, so sue me for thinking you could do me a favour.

Tim, instantly smirking: Ah, so I am your favourite... Well-well, big brother, I guess I can do this.

Damian: I am *not* going to tell you what our father is planning to do with this specific villain. Who do you think I am? An idiot?

Jason, sighing: Damn, and I really thought we had each other's back since League of Assassins.

Damian, scoffing: Emotional manipulation will not work on me.

Jason, all confused: Why would I manipulate you? From all people? I didn't raise you to fall on shit like this.

Damian: Tt.

Damian: Fine. Since, I guess, I owe you for babysitting me...

Bruce: Jason, I appreciate your... strive to help me, but nothing has ever gone well when you worked on cases like that. Let me handle this, and—

Jason, silently sitting down on the armchair, hands on his head: (sniff)

Bruce, panicked: Jaylad?..

Jason: I get it. I really do. No matter how much I love you, no matter how much I keep choosing you over anyone in this family, you don't love me anymore. I really understand it. I... I came in peace with it. I just wished you would tolerate my work... a little bit. You know?

Bruce: No, no, sweetheart, I— I am your favourite?

Jason, sniffling angrily: Who else it could be, old man?

Bruce: Oh. Oh, Jaylad— (instantly hands him the case)

(The family dinner)

Bruce, mentally humming to himself: Oh, these kids have NO idea that I am Jason's favourite because we are connected like that ^•^

Dick, mentally beaming: Oh, no one here has an idea that I am Jason's favourite because I am his big brother and protector! :>

Tim, mentally laughing evilly: Oh, these flops have no idea that I am Jason's favourite and that he wishes I was his Robin!

Damian, mentally kicking his feet: None of my family members suspect that I am Akhi's favourite because he was practically my nanny through all childhood. Tt.

Jason, munching on food: Lol

What if: Both Ichigo and Urahara were booted back in time in the Swinging Pendulum universe?

Notes: Idk if I’ll continue this later (once those later SP canon parts are written). But I was in an UraIchi mood, and I’ve been trying to write some more of SP so here’s hoping this helps me get past that writer’s block.

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ok but does Bucky ever but Steve in thigh-high or knee-high heeled boots, when he's dressing him up?

Pls imagine Steve in these boots or something like them.

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Bruce watches from the shadows above, perched on a rooftop, his gaze fixed down below. He tells himself that he’s scanning the Arkham Knight armor for design weaknesses, but his attention keeps drifting to the lines of Jason’s waist. It's crafted for efficiency and intimidation, yet there is something almost scandalous about how it fits him. The armor cinches his waist, and the fabric clings to his skin, making his shoulder appear even broader. He shouldn't notice the way it hugs his body perfectly. Jason presses his fingers against his helmet, sneering something into the comms, then starts walking. Hips swaying, stalking forward like a goddamn feline. The pointed ears are a mockery of a bat, but Bruce sees nothing but a cat.

The light from the city frames Jason's body, showcasing his slim waist and Bruce can't help but wonder what it would feel like to press his fingers into the soft skin, to hold him down and never let him run off again.

A wave of nausea crashes over him as it usually does when these thoughts claw their way into the back of his mind, grabbing on like a parasite until they drain his thoughts and leave him thinking of little else. It's a sickening familiarity. Jason turns his head suddenly, tilting it upward toward the rooftops. Bruce knows he's shrouded in darkness from where he is standing, hidden from being spotted. But Jason pauses in his steps, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, the curve of his hip exaggerated even further as he places one hand there. His stance is almost suggestive.

Bruce feels his entire body stiffen as he can't tear his eyes away. The stance, the way his armor pulls tight across his waist and hips, and the way his fingers tap idly against himself, as if taunting whoever might be watching, entirely ripped apart all of the self-control he prided himself on having.

The suit doesn't only protect Jason—it weaponizes him. Bruce is convinced it's with purpose, serving as a distraction for all of his enemies. Jason finally moves again, but the damage has already been done. The image is seared into Bruce's mind and he knows it will come back to him, late at night when he's lying in bed. He hates himself for it.

I just love (thick)Bucky being using any excuse to put his hands on Steve. The Xmas tree is too tall and nobody can decorate the top? ofc he will grab his guy's hips and lift him up so that he can decorate it (plus, he gets to have his face at the same lvl as That Ass). And then ofc when he puts him down he makes sure to rub as much as possible against Steve's back while Tony and Clint have their usual dramatic reaction :')

I have the feeling that if Bucky were eye-level with The Ass, there’d at least be a lot of talk about eating Steve out / enthusiastic rimming and an even more enthusiastic fuck in Steve’s future.

And the rub down when Steve’s being lowered is the filthiest sort of promise. His hands on Steve’s hips, keeping him close even after Steve’s got his own footing, rolling his hips into him nice and easy while whispering something in his ear that makes Steve blush something fierce. 

He’s putty in Bucky’s arms, melting against him. Probably feels so deliciously tiny, Bucky’s broad hands spanning his hips, Bucky wrapped around him like Steve’s still five foot nothing, even though Steve technically has an inch or two on him now.

Clint and Tony are having a breakdown while Rhodey is tucked away in the corner, texting direct quotes to Coulson so that they can use it in their next fanfic.

Jason, stubs his toe: Damn!

Bruce: Language!

Alfred, drops a plate: Oh fucking hell!

Bruce looks horrified and Jason looks excited.

Alfred: Master Bruce, I would suggest you close your mouth before you catch flies.

The whole Bat-Family situation becomes both much funnier and much more concerning when you understand that it’s not a case of Batman’s adopted kids deciding to go into the family business. At least half of the Bat-kids were already costumed vigilantes of some description at the time that Bruce Wayne entered their orbit. Gotham City has a child vigilantism problem. This is what Batman has to deal with.

Hello, I just discovered your blog and I wanted to say I love your writing!! I was wondering if you have any sub!steve headcanons you would like to share? :D

i'm not always great at thinking up cohesive headcanons, so take a little fic where bucky fucks steve straight into subspace!

NSFW 18+

-

“Oh, fu-uck…”

Bucky’s tongue is rough against Steve as he grips the sheets hard beneath him, ass canted up and cheek pressed into the soft linen pillows. His cock is curving up towards his belly, red and straining and spent, leaking with the remnants of his last release. He isn’t sure how long they’ve been at this-- Bucky taking him apart with his tongue and fingers, drawing pleasure out of his very core and guiding him to a comforting, suspended place he can’t seem to find anywhere else. There aren’t many places that are quiet for him these days, but underneath Bucky’s gentle touch, the world dampens out.

Bucky hums and the vibrations send a jolt through Steve, gasping as his tongue curves and digs deeper into him.

“Christ, Buck, I--” he cuts off with a strangled groan as one of Bucky’s fingers slip in alongside his tongue, crooking outwards and spreading him open as he pulls away.

Bucky hushes him when he whines at the loss, a gentle hand resting between his shoulder blades.

“I’m going to fuck you now, alright?” Bucky asks, his voice low even though he sounds just as wrecked as Steve feels.

Desperate, Steve nods. “How d’you want me?”

There’s a moment of silence as Bucky seems to think, then the hand between his shoulder blades dips to his waist.

“On your back,” Bucky says, then he’s urging him to roll over and Steve is pliant under his touch.

His legs spread automatically, eyes half-lidded and dazed as he watches Bucky drink him in hungrily.

“So pretty,” Bucky murmurs, reaching out to brush some of Steve’s sweaty hair off his forehead. His fingers trail down over his temples, across his cheek, making Steve shiver as he latches onto his gaze. Commanding and gentle in equal measure. A thumb brushes over his lips-- metal-- and he nips softly. “Good boy.”

The praise goes straight to Steve’s core and-- oh. They don’t always do this. It feels sacred, still. New territory. Slipping into these roles where Steve lets go of the wheel for a few wonderful moments. But Bucky’s words are already seeping into the crevices of his mind, drawing out any residual stress and pushing him towards the edge.

Bucky’s hand is still moving, down his jaw and across his collarbone, before coming to a stop on his neck. Steve’s eyes widen, lips parting, and Bucky’s eyebrows raise.

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asks. “I was wondering if you’d like this.” He increases the pressure of his hold marginally and Steve whines, head tilting back and hips canting up. It’s exhilarating-- dangerous. His heart pounds and he wants. He wants so goddamn bad.

“Please,” he whimpers, and Bucky lets go, soothing his disappointment with a kiss.

“Just gotta get myself ready,” Bucky mutters against his lips. “Won’t be a minute.”

It’s almost Pavlovian the way the cap of the lube opening makes Steve’s legs spread wider, hole fluttering around nothing. He whines a little more insistently, and Bucky hushes him again, slicking up his cock and reaching down to finish prepping Steve as well. A moment later, he’s hitching Steve’s legs over his shoulders, taking his strong thighs around his neck and pushing in.

Bucky’s fingers are incredible-- his tongue even better. But Steve is certain there’s nothing as fulfilling as his cock, thick and heavy as it pushes past that tight ring of muscle. They’re both breathing heavily, soft whines sounding adjacent to Bucky’s low grunts as he bottoms out. There’s a moment of stillness as they adjust to the sensation, as familiar as it is.

Then, Bucky growls, and Steve’s eyes roll back as he starts to thrust into him.

He lets himself go, the world around him going wholly mute as everything zeroes into the place where he and Bucky are joined together. He scrabbles for purchase on Bucky’s biceps, shoulders, back-- but it’s no use as Bucky takes his hands and pins them over his head.

“Stay still,” he says, and Steve is helpless but to listen, going limp as Bucky fucks him harder, his other hand going back to his neck and--

Oh god. Oh god. It’s so much more thrilling in the moment. Held down where Bucky’s pinning him, knowing that his safety is quite literally in his hands, but trusting him with the very bones of his being. Bucky won’t hurt him. Bucky has control.

And it’s that notion alone that has Steve stepping off the ledge, his body free falling into open air before drifting higher, higher, higher--

He comes with a cry, thighs tensing around Bucky’s neck as his release paints his chest. It isn’t long before Bucky follows, groaning low and long as his cock pumps inside Steve. There’s a distant sensation of come seeping out of his ass, but Steve could care less. He feels like he could live inside Bucky-- take refuge in his very soul.

Static fills his mind, and it takes a few minutes for the world to come into focus as Bucky pulls out, catching his release with a towel they keep on hand and gently cleaning them up. The care only does more to push Steve further out of his mind. Higher. Lighter. He could be floating, he thinks. He could be floating over his goddamn body and it feels so good.

He blinks and Bucky is hovering over him, eyes soft and concerned.

“You with me?” he asks. It sounds like his voice is being fed through a shoddy speaker.

Steve smiles, reaching for him. Bucky obliges, taking him into his arms and rolling them over. Pillowing his head on Bucky’s chest, Steve hums in content.

“Are you feeling floaty?” Bucky asks, lips brushing Steve’s ear. It was the way Steve had described the feeling the first time they’d found this space between them and he nods. “Mmm, fucked you straight into subspace, didn’t I?”

“You knew what you were doing,” Steve slurs. “Jerk.”

Bucky laughs, his chest shaking against Steve’s ear. It makes Steve smile wider.

“What,” Bucky teases. “Can’t enjoy my fella when he’s all soft for me?”

Steve scowls. “Never said that.”

Bucky snugs him closer, browsing his nose over his brow.

“That’s what I thought,” he pauses, kissing his temple. “Mine.”

Steve lets his eyes drift shut, hand resting over Bucky’s heart. Instinctively, he listens for his heartbeat. It’s strong. Steady. Sure.

“Yours.”

-

thanks for reading, y'all!

jason: why are you looking at me like that?

damian, age 4, wondering why jason looks white if he's his brother: you're colored wrong

jason: what the fuck?