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The music coming from inside the club is so loud Jason can see the glass from the door shaking as he approaches. Today is supposed to be a day of love and romance, but all it brought for Jason was memories of mistakes and regrets. He was excited when he heard Amity were playing, it was the perfect thing to distract him from his woes. He's been waiting his whole life for this concert. It's not often that Australian bands even come out to the states, let alone try their luck in Gotham.
“Fuck, I’m late,” he mutters, hearing the vocals of his favourite singer as he steps into the club and sees the crowd in front of the stage. The large sign "The Amity Affliction- One Night Only." hanging above the stage in a dark neon glow.
He steps up to the back of the crowd. The swarm of sweaty bodies writhing so close together that he can’t seem to find a way in. A man in a ripped denim vest, his lean biceps covered in swirling ink almost as tempting as his soft jawline and silky red hair. Jason tries to get his attention but the man disappears into the crowd. Jason takes the opening, slipping his way into the mass of people. He pushes past a small group before the crowd seems to part and a flash of colour in this sea of black catches his eye. A woman, her hair split dyed red and black, her arms covered in fishnets and leather. There seems to be two or three of them, all huddled together at the front of the stage.
"Hey sorry man," someone says, knocking Jason in the shoulder as they make their way past him and towards the front. He lost sight of her in those few seconds, but as he turns back he sees her waving, at him? He turns around, checking she isn't waving at someone behind him. Jason doesn't see anyone, so he waves back at the woman who looks like she’s making a beeline for him.
The crowd seems to funnel her toward him, like a wave rushing to the shore. She makes an abrupt stop, the crowd behind her slamming her into his chest, his hands instinctively clutch her shoulders to keep her from toppling over. It’s then he notices the intricate ink hidden under her fishnet top, snaking their way up her neck and down her fingers.
"Shit, sorry mate." The woman says, her eyes giving him a once over, pausing slightly when she see's his tuft of white hair. Jason tries to recall where he has heard the strange accent before, feeling like it's right on the tip of his brain, "didn't mean ta get me legs all twisted. Ya right?" she smiles in a way that makes Jason shiver, her eyes lighting up in a way that makes him think she's seen him before.
'Right what?" He asks, unsure what exactly she's talking about.
She gives him a confused look before uttering something about Americans under her breath, "See ya later," she shouts, snaking around him and grabbing hold of a smaller woman he hadn't seen. The two women turn, already making their way from him.
"Wait, can I get your name?" He calls out to her as she walks with her friend back into the crowd.
"Ya got buckleys of that mate!" She shouts back, it surprises him that he can even hear her over the roar of the music and the crowd. He sees the woman beside her shoulders start to shake, her head thrown back as if some kind of joke has been told.
Completely baffed by what the fuck just happened, Jason moves into the crowd. Intent on just enjoying the band he's waited so long to see. They're good. Better than good. Better than he could've ever imagined. But his eyes keep wandering, searching for her. He occasionally catches glimpses, flashes of red in the dark crowd. But never more than that.
Xx
The night and the party keeps going and going around him. Fuck, he feels like he's just ran all the way to Central city. His legs are aching, he's sweaty and his mouth is so dry. He squishes and squashes his way to the bar. The line is much smaller than he thought and he can hear some kind of commotion. The closer he gets the more clearly he can hear your tone and that harsh accent he had heard from your soft looking lips.
“What's the problem?” He asks, sliding up next to you at the bar.
“Can’t understand her,” the bartender looks with impatience at Jason.
“I got it." You say turning to Jason and he sees an annoyance on your face, “look dude. It's a VCR. It's common, right?”
“A what?” Jason asks, “like cranberry?”
“No.” she shouts somehow offended, “Fuck. Do you have any grenadine?”
“Yes?” The bartender replies.
“Vodka? And coke?”
“Coke?” Jason asks, “are you insane? You can't ask for that at a bar.”
“Ahhh..” you clench your teeth, rolling your eyes, knowing that you should've just bought a flask from your van. “Fine. Just give me a jager bomb. You want one?” You turn to Jason, “come on don't make a girl get maggot on her own.”
“How could I say no?” He smiles, ordering the same and leaning his elbow onto the bar.
“You couldn't,” you reply, clinking your shot glass with his before dropping it into the cup.
“So what's a girl like you doing in a dump like this?” He asks, taking in your wholly black outfit, the artwork he can now see through the holes in your torn stockings running down your legs and your soft lips painted with a dark green lipstick.
“With the band. Who can say no to a free holiday?”
“Are you- like a-”
“A groupie?” You laugh, tapping him lightly on the shoulder, “yeah, nah not a groupie.”
“I didn't mean to imply-”
“Deadset, unless you have a problem with groupies.” you tease, your eyes shining with mischief, “you're cute when ya flustered.”
“Cute? Not handsome? Imposing? Sexy?”
“Very cute,” you reach out, touching his arm again, “hold on one tick.” You pulls out your phone typing a quick text to your mates before looking back up at him. “What's ya plans for the rest of the night?”
“After this? Nothing.”
“What about right now?”
“Plan was to get your name at least.”
“Cheering, we're bout to do the harry.” You takes his hand, pulling him from the crowd and towards the stage entrance.
“Where are we going?” He says, taking longer strides to keep up with you, “I don't wanna miss my favourite song.”
“They haven't played it yet?” You ask, turning to look over your shoulder as you open the door and flashes your badge at the security guard, “they usually play Show me your God and Drag the Lake as an encore.”
“How did you-?”
“They're popular, I reckon we've got maybe 2 more songs,” you say, pulling him into the curtain bay and pressing him into the wall. “You can watch from here if you want, but first-” you catch his jaw pulling his lips down to yours, your arms on his waist as you press yourself into him.
“Hmm.. Don’t even know your name,” Jason mumbles into your mouth, fuck you taste like cigarettes and marker pens. How is that so fucking hot? He circles his arms down your ass, your fishnets feeling like sin on his fingertips as he lifts you, spinning you around until he’s pressing you into the wall. “Where’d you come from?”
“Hell,” you smirk into his mouth, “you been?”
“Yeah, didn’t agree with me.”
“Me neither.” Your long pointed nails scrape through Jason's hair, tugging his face back, “got you all messy, mate.”
“That dark lipstick all over me?”
“Yeah, not sorry 'bout it,” you pull him back in for another kiss, while he presses you harder into the wall, his cock is so fucking hard. God, how's he going to explain this when he has to leave?
“Can we really do this right here?”
“Not really. But I thought you'd like the view.” Your head tilts to the side, “they're about to play ya song,” you swats at his hands, “don't you wanna see it?”
“I’m pretty happy with this view,” he kisses into your neck as he sets your feet back on the ground. When you go to walk away he pulls you back, “Hey mystery girl,” he tugs you in front of him, “I ah-”
You look down noticing the huge ass fucking tent in his pants and the pouting of his lower lip, “You need some help there?”
“Yes,” he mutters under his breath, “This is your fault.”
“My fault-” you hold a hand to your chest, “Nah, yeah, I guess ya right. Ok. Come on,” you take his hands wrapping them around you as you walk forward. Your body hiding what's poking you in the ass. The hardness sending a tingle through you with every step you take.
“That's making it worse.”
“Shh, they're about to start.”
The band starts playing and Jason shouts in your ear, “This ones my favourite.”
“Sames. Sorry we can’t mosh here,”
“This is a great view.” he smiles, leaning his chin onto your head, his hands clinging together around you as you sway together, watching from the curtains as the band rocks out.
You both watch the band and the crowd, the whole place seems to shake with the bass and the beat of the pulsing crowd. The band says goodnight, before heading into the crowd to meet the fans, “Saw the thing now, Happy? Wanna see something else cool?” you ask, peering up and over your shoulder at Jason. Your eyes going wide with how joyful he looks.
“Is it going to kill me?” Jason replies, looking down at you with curiosity.
“If you want, but mostly no.” you turn, taking two steps and grabbing a stray hoodie from one of the hangers and handing it to him, “This should help you with your ah-” your eyes dart down 'problem.'
“Thanks,” Jason says, tying it around his waist. “So mystery girl, where we going?” he asks as you lead him down a corridor and out the back of the club, “Killing me in an alley isn’t very original.”
“Mate, original is the last bloody thing I am,” you smirk, dragging him down past the street lights, into the darkness and towards your van.
“Wow, Mystery Machine, eat your heart out,” Jason jokes, leaning on the van.
“Told ya, you think I'm a fibber?” you quirk your brows.
“You live here?” He asks as you slide the door open and he takes in the dark fabrics hung from the roof over the windows, the shelves of books and the tiny bed hidden in the back. “It's nice.”
“It's a shitheap, but Bertha's my shitheap, goes everywhere with me.” You climb inside, ducking your head and pulling your powder drawer open, “maybe watch your head and give me like one-” you bite down on your lip to help you concentrate until you find the vial you need and pour some of it into your palm, ”Last chance to bolt,” you peer up at him lowering your lips to your hand.
“And miss all the excitement?”
“Get in then,” you direct him, giving him a quick smile as he steps inside, “Shut the door behind ya,” you flick your chin towards it and as he slides it shut you begin to whisper into the powder. With the words said, you release the powder, blowing it out and around you.
“The fuck is this?” Jason asks when the purple powder drifts from your palm and into the air. The mist swirls and swirls around you.
When the mist clears he’s in a giant canvas tent, the large room centred by a huge bed. The four poster covered in lace and vines, torches dimly light the room, flickering over your pretty face, “That was fucking cool, how'd you did that?” he calls, noticing the distance between you.
“Boss taught me,” you shrug, twirling your arm around the bed post, your finger pointing out and beckoning him towards you, “feel better now you've got the head room?”
“Definitely,” he growls, stalking towards you faster than he thinks. Picking you up and slamming you both into the bed. He rips and tears at the fishnets covering your body, his nimble fingers quickly finding the clasp on your skirt. “Shit you're pretty,” he smiles down at you as his hands glide inside your thighs.
“You're taking too long,” you mutter, pulling out some red dust whispering something in maybe Latin he thinks before the mist is swirling around you and you're both naked.
“Where-? I need my clothes to get home.”
“On the hanger,” you point behind him to all his clothes neatly hung on your dresser, “‘sides, who says you're going home? Maybe I'll keep ya.”
“You can keep me right here,” he says as he presses his fingers into the dripping mess of your pussy. “Soaking,” he growls tilting over you so he can catch your lips in his. His hard cock is so swollen that it looks like it's been throbbing for hours. Well, at least 30 minutes by your count. He presses it down into your stomach, his fingers patting you from the inside and flattening his palm, giving you something to grind on while he assaults your lips. “Tell me how you like it,” he moans into your mouth.
“Messy, rough, quick, no strings.”
“Got any magic powder to help?”
“No, but-” you turn to the left, mumbling a familiar phrase into the pillow while your fingers reach up and press into the headboard, “how do you feel about restraints?”
“Can be fun,”
“Good.” you press the last piece of the puzzle and watch as the vines start to twirl from the canopy. “Kay, mate. On your back.” you push at his chest, rolling over, “I like to be on top.”
“Alright, mystery girl, don’t know how I’m going to tie you up while you're there.”
“Who said I was being tied up?” you tease him, holding onto his wrists and pushing them up to the edge of the bed.
“You can’t really think you’re stronger than me?”
“I don’t. But I know you’re not putting up a fight,” you smile as the vines tangle around his wrists, “Now be a good boy and sit still,” you perch on his thighs, your hands skating up the scars covering him, “Hmm, so the stories are true,” you whisper, your lips, tongue and teeth skating up the soft flesh of his stomach.
"What?" He asks breathlessly, his wrists tugging on the vines, while his body pushes up into your mouth. "Ah, fuck," he moans as your lips grow closer and closer to his throbbing cock. Your hands skating down his thighs, nails digging in gently to his flesh.
"Look at me, pretty boy," you say in a low voice, stating up at him from between his legs, "good." Your fingers start to travel the muscle lines of his thighs, "if you want me to stop, just say the word and it stops."
"Okay," he pants, his hips trying to thrust up towards your mouth.
"If it gets to much or wrists start to hurt you tell me to stop. Be a good boy and Repeat that back to me so I know your listening." His cock bounces at that and you feel like you've won the lottery.
"Stop means stop."
"Good job," you smile devilishly at him, your mouth ghosting over his cock as your tongue darts out to lick at him, "going to paint you so pretty with my lipstick, pretty boy." His cock throbs, a sneaky drop of pre leaking out.
He squeals so cute as you take him in your mouth, the salty tang of his pre cum salivating your mouth, his hips already moving to meet your every bob. "Pretty boys got such a tasty cock." You moan as you come up for breath and plant your hand at his base. Sliding your spit down the shaft, "what a good boy, can you thrust up into my mouth harder for me?"
"Ye-." He nods, the world barely audible as his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip. "What are you- don't stop," he begs as you pause leaning up to pull his lip from his teeth.
"So soft, don't do that, I want to hear you," you pump down on his cock with your fist, making him moan into your mouth, "how else will I know I'm doing a good job?"
"Fuck, sorry. I- that's so good," he moans thrusting up into your hand.
"Good boy," you slink back down taking him once again in your mouth, your tongue dancing along his long shaft, your spit spilling down while he fucks up into your mouth. Jason's moans fill your ears, his breathing getting heavy and his thrusting growing faster, But it's those short little pleas for more that tell you all you need to know.
He groans when you pull off his cock, crawling your way up his body "you did so well," you coo, cupping his face and bringing his lips to yours, "do you know how good you taste?" You ask him as you stick your tongue down his throat.
"Taste better on you,"
"Tell me what you want, pretty boy."
"You."
"How do you want me?"
"I want to be inside you."
"You just were."
"Your pussy, I want to fuck you."
"Ask nicely."
"Please, mystery girl. Please fuck me."
"How can I say no when you pout so pretty." You scoot down, your pussy hovering over his cock before sinking down. Your brain buzzing as his huge dick stretches you out, your pussy pulsing around him. "Fuck, ya filling me so good." You moan as he bottoms out, your hips already starting to mindlessly grind into him. Your nails digging into his chest for stability as you bounce on him.
"Hands are..fuck." He groans, tugging on the vines.
"They sore sweetheart?"
"So sore," he lies, he needs to het his hands on you, fuck he wants to touch you so badly.
"2 seconds," you mumble, leaning up over his head, the tip of his cock just barely inside you, your tits right in his face. He takes the opportunity to suck and bite at them, "I need to concentrate," you moan as his teeth bite into your nipple, trying to think of the words to dispel the vines as your thoughts start to swell. "Fuck it." You hit the dagger sigil on the headboard. It appears in seconds in your hand and you slice away the vines.
The vines go loose and Jason takes his opportunity to flip you. His cock thrusting up into you as he pins you beneath him. His hands move quick to pin yours to your side while his mouth moves to yours, "what's wrong mystery girl? Did I ruin your plan?"
"No, not at all." You moan as you wrap your legs around his thighs and tilt your hips up, fucking back into him, "God that feels fucking good."
"Fuck, keep telling me-" he moans releasing your hands. He takes one thigh in his hand and presses it up into your chest.
"That you're pretty? Sweetheart, you're fuckin stunning," you hold onto his face making him look you in the eye when he tries to turn away, "fuckin me so good," you moan, "yeah- grind, fuck, like that, pretty boy."
"Holding me so tight,"
"I'm getting close," you moan, arching your back up, "choke me, put those strong hands on me."
"So fucking happy you asked," his hand clasps around your neck, gently pressing in at the sides where, "that's a good look on you."
"I look good on you."
"Yes,"
"You going to-"
"Yes, you?"
"Together?"
"Please, please, plea-"
"Such a good pretty boy, begging for my cum without even asking," "Fuc- I'm nearly, Jason, fuck, cum. Cum" your pussy pulses, squeezing down on his cock, "cum with me. Do it. Now."
"Yes, yes. Yes. So ahhh-" he screams, as his cum pulses, more then he's ever felt before floods your guts.
"Keep going, just-" his pace starts to slow, "yeah. Like that. Good boy," your push his sweaty curls from his hair.
"From hell you said?" He jokes, pressing his forehead into yours, "I believe it now."
"Something like that," you say, "you want some water?"
"Please," he says, finally stopping and rolling down into your soft pillows. His hand wiping the sweat from his brow. His eyes locked on the intricate tattoo, which seems to be swarm of ravens that fly down your legs as you stand. You lean over a bench grabbing two bottles of water. As you turn back his eyes trace over the intricate pattern of the night sky on your right arm, stars and moons aplenty. He wishes he had time to explore them more, to ask about the black cat that rests in your shoulder dip.
"They're a bit wet," you say, pulling his attention back to you. Wrapping a tea towel the water, before grabbing another to clean yourself up before climbing back into bed. "You alright? How are your wrists?" You ask taking them in your hands and turning them over, "Sorry they're so red."
"It's fine." He tries to pull away, but your soft finger tips, covered in tiny letters he doesn't recognise graze over the marks, a tiny white glow pulsing from them that he nearly doesn't see.
"That better?"
"Much actually, what was that?"
"Just a little something I learnt from a mate."
"Oh," he sighs contently, definitely not jealous as his brain quiets down as you bring his head to your chest, "you're going to be gone when I wake up aren't you." He realises as you gently toy with his hair.
"Yes, Jason. I am."
"Can I call you?"
"No," you start and he lets out a petulant whimper, making you roll your eyes, "but you can have this," you pull a card from the air, "just light it up and I'll find you as quick as I can." He reaches for it, but with a swish of your hands it's gone.
"Where-"
"It's in your coat, you don't need it right now. I'm right here with you. Just get some rest, you earned it." You kiss into his forehead, watching as he drifts off into a dreamless sleep. No one dreams in this dimension, it's the reason you chose it.
Xx
Waking with a start, Jason pats the bed around for you. Only to find his pillows and the gun safely tucked underneath. Shit. He didn't even get to say goodbye. He bolts up, noticing how rested and relaxed he feels even if he had passed out in his jeans. Fuck, did he dream it. Dream about you? The tattooed, sexy witch who'd made his dreams come good for once.
Patting himself down, he tries to find evidence. The card, he thinks you put it in his coat and sure enough, tucked inside his inside pocket is a small card with a note wrapped around it. He almost tears his jacket to get it out. The note reads "Thanks for a good time, Zombie Boy. It was good to finally meet you." How did you?- But as Jason stares down at the card, he realises that he didn't tell you his name. He's pacing his room going over every detail, the card hanging loosely in hand when he figures out where's he's heard your voice before. His eyes dart to the gold lettering shimmering in the morning sunlight Costantine & Co Aust. Dept. Light for help.