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the-monkeies-girl · 3 days

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Peppering Kisses. ( Planet of the Apes Imagines. )

Characters included below: Caesar, Noa, Blue Eyes, Anaya and Koba.

Caesar.

The sensation of a heady body next to your own, the heaving of the Ape King’s breathing against the side of your body, rocketing whatever linear space you were drifting in and out of into a full blown conscious state. Fluttering your eyelids open, you were washed in a sea of darkened fur to which you felt drowning was the best state, nuzzling your face inwards to take in the musky scent that clung to happily to the very tips of the coat that lined his entire body. So envious of that, your mind mumbled to itself. To always be warm, even though he offered it to you in the sacred scapes of the mornings like you found yourself in.

Caesar next to you did not shift, didn't urge himself to do that, sleep still cusping around his eyelids as you peered up at him, the tugging under your own eyes enticing enough to want to come back down to sleep but… There were moments like these that finally gave you a chance to see him without the permanent scowl that rested, some semblance of innocence resting on his expression, eyelashes cradling down, his nose snorting here and there between the breathing of his mouth. Lifting yourself up was the difficult piece of his occasion, the heaviness of his long arm alone keeping you almost pinned at his side for the entire night of rest, something innate from the protective stand the Ape had towards you. It was rare for you to wake up before him, the dawn of the day barely on the horizon.

It was rare that you were left wordless, looking down at him as you propped your body against his broad chest, slotting to rest against him and gaze at his face with hazed and slumber encrusted adoration. It was hard to believe at times, your fingers coming up and tucking back some of your hair as you leaned inwards to place a delicate and fluttering kiss against his chin, feeling the delectation of the bearded fur that rested there, aged to a fine white lined coating, thickened in the dead of Winter. Despite the chill of the air, his skin was hot as ever and you wanted nothing more than to skin into it yourself.

Nothing from the Chimp, you smiled against the leathery nature of his skin and swept upwards to his cheek and pressed a few lining kisses against his cheekbone, but and down you brought your mouth, coating ever so slightly with saliva that was building out of anticipation of your mate waking up and having you so close to him, eager and ready, but always willing to wait if he had something more pressing.

Something more pressing than your body weight against him, your actions becoming a bit more brashed as you lifted up a bit more, your weight contorting against his own, feeling the shift of his shallow sleep against your chest as you caressed his right eye socket with a small smooch and traced downwards towards the delicate sweeping of the wrinkles that were ever present under his eyes.

“I am… Awake.” That voice tore through you without reserved, incredibly dripped in a coated baritone that was resting deeper than usual at this time of day, Caesar’s lack of self-control teetering itself into the forefront but there was enough lacking that he felt the desire to pull you inwards by placing the arm that had previously been holding you back into position. You groaned at the impact of being held against him and smiled where your mouth had rested. “And you’re just letting me attack your face?” Caesar laughed at the implications of that, something in itself that was not common and it made you swell with pride at the tiny tug you had gotten from his lips, eyes entranced enough for your lips to follow suit and you were kissing at the very corners of them. “Think… I would know…” You smiled sleepily against his lips, giving him a full frontal peck before dancing your face towards his left side to give equal love as he so deserved, “If you… were a threat to…mmm…” He slowed his speech, the scent from your hair coming to full throttle at the shift you gave by tugging closer to his left side, “If you… were a threat to my face.” “I could bite it off.” You teased jokingly and bared your teeth against his left cheek, Caesar enjoying the sensation of your hot breath and saliva against the part of his face as he brought you in even closer, as if to dare you to continue. Caesar peeped one eye open lazily, locking briefly with your own as he raised his head to make the contact before letting it fall back against the next, against the animal hides that cushioned himself for your viewing pleasure, “Would like to see you try.”

Noa.

There were not many days where you were left alone to your own devices with the Master of the Birds. Between the re-building of the Clan and Village, to the sweeping of the Elders' words about your lack of Ape-ness during the meetings that Noa coincided in with older Apes who refused to see a newer outcome, afternoons where you and he could get away became increasingly more scarce.

It was true, you thought for a moment and looked down at him, Noa’s entire broad back laying nearly flat against your stomach and navel, your legs casing him in a cage of affection as they tapered down the top portion of the side of his body and you were able to sustain just enough of your strength to look down at him upside down, taking in the features you knew from the dim fire-light of your nest in a different perspective. Thankful for the tree you were perched under, you were able to maintain the position of having nearly all his front weight against your chest and there were truly moments to savor from how suffocating it felt to be with him like this.

Noa was beautiful, there was no denying as his right hand lightly traced itself against your kneecap, the other being tickled by the long grass of the meadow below, crunching under your weight and crunching under the adoration that seeped from your pores. Even with his eyes shut, it wasn’t hard to imagine the green nature of them, eclipsed by the darkened pupils and sprinkled with the golden rays that even rivaled the sun's color in intensity.

The deep richness that flooded from his fur, brown and sunken in tones of honey tearing itself against the darkened scape and it was taking in every crevice of your skin that was exposed to it in the selfishness of wanting to be closer. Gazing down at him as his head rested near your collarbone, Noa’s head to the side in a state of relaxation, it was hard not to brush your fingers along the softened aspect of his browline that was not hardened in contemplation or obsession.

“Echo word,” Noa muttered quietly, tucking his face a bit more into the fabric of your shirt to stop your brushing motion, “Feels… Funny. Against skin.” “Tickling?” He chortled, slipping his eyelids open just enough to captivate you in some form of dance of glances and you felt yourself dropping down the tree trunk you were pressed against, Noa’s body languid and slow above yours to get you pinned to the ground below, his pelvic bone crushing yours only slightly but caused the adverse effect of your soft moan into the air before you pushed to have him on his back, your legs bringing themselves around the narrowing of his waist. “Touching you here,” Fingers placed themselves back into position on his brow line which tore a tiny grin from the Ape below you as he looked at you with heavily hooded irises, coated with delicate traces of his intentions, “Tickles?” Noa growled lightly, the sound itself reverbing against your entire body once your face drew itself closer to his. His scent was enough to send you over the edge of bliss; the tanglement of vines that trailed up to the Eagle Enclosure, the rubbing of wings together before taking flight and even the air between them as they soared. You wanted again… To drown in it, kissing lightly around his face and garnering yourself a long arm around your waist to keep you steady as you work with your mouth.

From the dips around the corner of his lips that he pursed sillily for you, tongue nearly drawing at the shape of his bottom lip itself, Noa respondent in the only way he knew how in regards to you kissing him in such an Echo fashion. He let it happen; willingly, always to experience something new. “So this tickles you?” That was whispered right near the shell of his ear as you drew up the side of his face, scattering nothing but the faintest of kisses along his cheekbone that was sculpted perfectly, slotting his jaw open and the minor uptake of his breathing utterly noticeable.

“Yes.” “You want me to stop?” You breath scattered down his fur and brushed at his skin below, Noa releasing a shiver that spiked the fur along his shoulder when you resumed to kiss along the bridge around his heart-cartoon shaped nose. “No.” He grumbled deeply, the hand around your waist tugging you even further and you let yourself fall flat against his chest, raising a hand to keep you leveraged against him and playing against the bare nature of his scar that weaned into the fur that played around it. “Keep… Going… Echo thing… Noa enjoys.” Smiling against the wrinkles that draped themselves under his eyes, you saw them fall shut in response as you continued on your way, taking in every bit that he was willing to give you, the rising and falling of his chest against yours tangling into the intimacy of the moment, the time in space that you two were allowed to be alone and Noa felt no understanding guilt to take it all in.

For here, you were nothing more than a mated pair, no expectations though the hands that held you always beckoned for a bit more and you knew without a doubt that you’d end up bare against him and he’d be the one to trail hot mouthed kisses along your body, but for now. You were his Echo and he was your Ape. And there was nothing else that mattered.

Blue Eyes.

“Do you have to leave?” Your voice attempted its shot at coming out whining but it was impossible to have, the tone sounding more akin to desperation as you looked at Blue Eyes, spear in his hand. Trailing your gaze to the entryway of the nest itself, you drew your bottom lip in and carefully got your body into position, hands and knees to the edge of the nest itself where your fingers teetered against the bundled up thickets of branches that gave it such a delicate bounce under your weight. “Can’t you stay just a few minutes longer?” There was intense contemplation from the Prince of the Apes, something that was weighed in his mind for more than needed as he looked at the state you were in. The flushed nature of your cheeks, the messy abundance of your hair as you had only just woken up a few moments ago to an empty space next to you and the drawing of your breathing, so slow and enticing to Blue Eyes that he really figured the idea of nestling into your ribcage to be a fair advantage for himself; at least that way you would be able to breath for him and in these instances that he was unable to do it for himself, the Chimp knew he’d be alright.

The thinned t-shirt you had chosen for sleep the night before giving him the most tasteful view of your chest for his azure gaze as Blue Eyes felt his body stiffen at that mere and otherwise innocent sight of bare skin.

‘Ash,’ Blue Eyes signed at you with his stocky fingers, so incredibly nimble themselves that it left you feeling they were a contradiction in their own right as you drew your attention from the actions of his hands to the way that his breathing ripped against the lining of the silvering scars against his shoulder and down his right pectoral. Fingers moving exhilaratingly, you yearned to pull him closer and touch them again and again until the patterns, the dips and hugs against his fur were nothing more than second nature but you were torn out of that crazed idea as he finished his thought, ‘Waiting for me, would feel bad to make him wa---’

“You always make me wait. At least come kiss me goodbye.”

That surely came out as a whine this time, something that was accompanied by you rolling your head and taking your body into a seated position, back so far that Blue Eyes was no longer able to see your chest floating and teasing his line of vision and the perk he had in his shoulders, the hackles rising and falling with each catering breath, ceased and there was a clinging of disappointment in the air from both parties, Blue Eyes having been in too much of a haste to get ready, too much of a want to hang out with his friend that he had neglected something inherently more important.

His mate, the spear dropped from his hands and landed against the wall, his very own beating heart for without his own, you’d carry him to the ends of the Earth. These are things Blue Eyes knew and felt, but there was always that idea that you’d wait for him even if he never asked, never thinking about the prospect that making you wait was indeed tortuous for you as he came towards you, gait careful as to not offend, his long arms instinctually reaching for you and tangling themselves around your waist.

There was no time spared, Blue Eyes successful in getting your body up as if you were nothing more than a branch that had loosened itself from the nest, your thighs shaking in want as you wrapped them around his thinned waist, secure and knowledgeable that the Ape had the strength to sustain you in animation as his hands tucked under the fleshy tone of your thighs to keep you secure against him. A position that Blue Eyes catered to, holding you up against him as your delicately boned arms wrapped around his neck and you drew your face inwards.

Lightly his lips were swiped, something so unfamiliar but wrapped in reminiscent qualities as he recalled to himself that this was one of those Human forms of affection that were not commonly displayed out of your own desire to keep him comfortable, but you knew that Blue Eyes would display the behavior back itself in his own desire for your comfort. It was always a win win, and a give and take as he pursed his mouth against yours, feeling your return with a smile before you drew your scattering mouth upwards to his nose, then to the bridge of his brow where you rested there for a moment.

“You won’t be done the entire day, right?” You could feel the inclination of a ‘no’ as Blue Eyes shook his head for you and rested his face into the crook of your neck and drew in deeply, enriching his lungs with your scent that was going to be the motivation to return with the best hunt he’d ever experienced, the high too staggering to come down from as you were rested back on the nest, lightly and felt the body weight of the Ape crush you for a few moments as you got situated and felt the draping of an animal pelt coat your body. ‘Go back to sleep,’ Blue Eyes’ signing used a quiet and hushed tone, his other free hand coming up to brush you hair back, ‘Will be back before you wake again, I promise.’

“You better.” Yawning, it always amazed you that he was able to detect your sleep before it even became evident in the dropping of your eyes.

“I…” Blue Eyes grumbled and placed himself a light kiss against your eyelids as they fell shut, “Promise…”

Anaya.

“Your fingers are sticky, stop touching my face!” You laughed viciously, head tilting back as you tried to escape the grasp of the Chimp who had you pinned on the ground in the first place. You were flurried, back encasing itself with a scape of dirt and sediment as you wrestled under weight that you knew was too strong to let you go unless he was willing to do just that, his bulky fingers drawing themselves against your cheek and glistened with the ripest mango juice that even poured into the corner of your mouth for you to have a taste.

Slowly he drew his pointer finger along the outscape of your cheek, your head tilting to the side with a small playful snap towards the digit as if your blunted teeth were going to do anything against the calloused nature of his fingertips. You wanted to try though, even if it meant getting nothing more than a mango flavored finger in your mouth “Anaya, I swear to---” “Ah, swear to your Echo God,” He nearly cooed at you, taking a swiped bite from the mango in his free hand, the one that was not causing absolute agony against your skin as the sticky juices from the mango were now mixing into your skin and into the sweat that lined along the small hairs that prickled with excitement of having him mounted on top of you, playful in all aspects. That touch of primal fear always remained that he was putting no effort into this at all, and your movements were ultimately subdued by Anaya just applying more of his weight as he smiled smugly down at you, dropping his face to be parallel with your own as he grinned, your eyes captivated by the sheen his canines tugged onto from the sun that cased in from the tree leaves above. “Do not think… That will do… very good against… Anaya and his mango.”

“No-” His tongue peeped out, tracing the very tip along your cheek where his finger had previously been as a shriek tore from your throat. Not out of disgust, but out of acute amusement at the Ape’s comfort level around you, something that has sky-rocketed with the attraction he felt towards you was confirmed and Anaya finally felt confident enough, not terrified or scared as so often was the case when he was around you, to actually pursue and court you into being his mate. This endeavor - was one of many as he finally flattened his tongue against your cheek, letting out a small muffled huff against your skin and lined it with his saliva. “Anaya! NO!!!!” “Do not understand,” He whispered right into your ear this time, having swiped his wet appendage to the shell of that body part, licking it tenderly and giving a tiny nip right towards the end of it to tease you even further as you wringed your body below him again, hips raising and falling back into the Earth below as you laughed. “Echo allowed to place… Those things,” He thought for a second and hummed lightly into your hair, “Echo kisses… against Anaya’s face but… Not allowed to do the same?”

“You’re licking me!” Erupting into a giggle as he brought his tongue down the side of your face once more, you felt him drop the mango from his hand so he could grasp at your curved body and bring you closer. “Licking me isn’t the same thing!” “How kiss then?” There was no hesitation on your part as your lips pressed themselves against his own, hardened and quick to the point where you caught Anaya with a partially open mouth which he accepted and you were flushed with the mango taste, so tender and juicy against your tongue before you drew your tongue, the very tip of it to his chin and licked the juices from there with a ravenous and small laugh. “Like that.” “Very similar to what… I was doing.” “Hmmm.” You giggled as Anaya drew himself back onto his butt and sat with you enthralled in his arms, your legs coming to rest, tucked next to his muscular thighs. Carefully, you slipped your arms around his neck and cased your fingers into the coarse but oddly enticing nature of his fur and felt the shift of his muscles under as his shoulders rolled. “Not the same though,” You muttered, bringing your face near his once more and shouted a few pecks against his cheek and trailed from one side of his face to the other, “More lips, less tongue.” Anaya’s eyes fell shut slowly at the ghosting of your mouth, so smooth and inclined to please even if there was nothing inherently mated about the situation. “No fun… without tongue.”

“There’s plenty of fun,” You whispered heatedly against his right cheek and drew upwards to his brow line. Never too serious there, you felt it adjust to your hot mouth as you placed open kisses there, smooched and coated with saliva. “You just need to learn to appreciate it.”

He tightened his arm around you roughly, dragging you in closer to his chest as his eyes finally opened again, Anaya giving you a small bit of side eye as you pulled your head back to look at him properly, admiring the work of wetness you had given along his forehead. Grinning in satisfaction, the Ape brought a hand up and grasped the back of your neck with it and kept you steady as you wanted to bring your lips back to his face, “Appreciate it… Plenty, my Echo… But you need to appreciate Anaya’s… kissing too.”

Koba.

Never in your wildest dreams when you first came to the Colony would you have seen yourself in this position with a Bonobo. Thighs around his bulked waist, larger in most part compared to yours, but then again, compared to a Chimpanzee, it appeared to be more flushed and narrow but was surely not lacking muscular intent as evident in the way that they were moving his body against yours.

You had never imagined how rough and coarse it was going to feel to have Koba’s body rushing with carnal desire that was flecking around the edges like a golden nugget with aggravation that this was even happening, the heightened motions against your semi-nude form were enthralling enough as you were bounced, not allowing the full scape of moving yourself; Koba would never allow that and you have given up trying once he tried to bite your hand off. It was never enough to garner yourself true and unfiltered satisfaction as your chest rubbed, fully clothed and friction based against his own chest that was littered with patches of thinned fur and thicker tuffets.

It was all subdued on your part from lack of pleasure outside of penetration, the feeling of how he stiffened against you, the one form of affection reaching itself into you as the arms that were too long for his body tangled themselves into the depths of your shoulder blades to keep you from moving as if you were willing to do just that and not cure your morbid curiosity for how it felt to have him inside of you. It was hot as usual; catapulting whatever sense of attraction you had to the brink that you had set in your mind. An invisible line to ensure that you never stepped over the boundaries that were evident from the moment Koba decided to take you for the first time.

Stifling yourself, you refused even the most bare of delectations, unable to seat your face into the crevice that dripped from his sturdy neck to the more curved delicate nature around his collarbones. You wanted to, your eyes sinking themselves into that body part that taunted you before your glazed irises met his eyelids, squeezed shut for just a moment as he revealed himself into you, drop by drop. Never lingering, this was the only time you felt at one with an Ape here and you weren’t willing to tear yourself away from it. You could do it, just one time… Temptation rocked at the chance it saw as Koba still held onto your blades, bruises there inevitable against terrible prone skin; something he no doubt complained about in his own introspection. Temptation took its chances as you drew your face in and placed the smallest of fluttering against his scarred cheek; a human desire for more despite Koba giving you it in the form between your legs.

Immediate reaction was impossible, or so it seemed in the haze of the moment. Koba was still hardened, body lacking any other movement other than sustaining you on him until he felt the wash tearing him away and you were tossed back onto the nest in disgust of seducing him in the first place; always a sound excuse for the Bonobo who would trail around you in the Colony day in and day out for some form of entertainment. He hated you, you knew as you yourself squeezed your eyes shut and placed a kiss against him, this one closer to the side of his face where the skin fell deliciously into that blackened coat of fur that left you wanting more every time it was near to the very edge of what felt like insanity. You just wanted to know… Nearly flat faced against him, the kisses you were giving turned incredibly selfish and you drew in what little your nose was able to detect. The mush of dirt between toes, the moss growing against a fallen redwood and the speckling of watercolor ash that clung from sitting too near to a firepit. You just wanted to know what it felt like! What it… felt like… To get his affection if even it were nothing more than a farce, a means of convincing for him.

The bitter notion that you deserved none of that floated through your conscious mind as you went in again to press another kiss in, but to your surprise Koba pulled his head away and you were left nearly tonguing the air. Reality swept into you as you tugged away from Koba’s face, your ample stare looking straight into his one good eye, glassed and ready to sneer at your jugular, your imagination picking up the tiniest bit of hinted endearment in the eye that was no longer able to see the world.

“I’m sorry---” You were tearing yourself away from him, staggering nearly to your feet and looking around with a frantic pace to find your underwear and pants, somewhere there, lost and discarded without a care. “I’m so-sorry, I’m---” Nothing was said from the Bonobo, he didn't even bother looking in your general direction as you flew into your clothing, coming to a slow pace when you needed to button them, your fingertips sweaty. “I’m--- Going to leave now, you--- Please don’t… hurt me… I don’t--- Know why I did that. You- you should yell at me, I-I would feel so much more comfortable if you did.” Bargaining was obviously not your strong suit as you grasped your jacket shakily, giving him one more glance at the state you had left him in. Koba would come to his senses, post bliss. Koba would come to seek revenge, as was often the case and you were going to need to keep a set of eyes on the back of your head. Koba would… Your lips drew themselves in as you lapped up the small bit of taste that you had gotten from him. Koba would continue hating you even though the actions you had just posed to him threw the entire premise of the arrangement. “A-Are you not going to---”

“Get out.”

Your mouth popped open at how softly that was spoken, mind reeling from the lack of reverb against your ear drums. “Koba--”

“Get OUT!”

That was more like it, the lick of fear ricocheting against your spine and without another word, you were flashing yourself out the entryway, sliding your body weight against the slick nature of the rock below and tried to catapult yourself to the safety of your small hut for the night to rest with one eye open. Koba watched you innately, intensely and scrutinized every motion down to the way your toes moved as you had tried to stumble into your boots amidst the murmured apology; the skin on his face that you violated scorned heat.

Reddened just like his temperament towards you. Confusing… Just like that notched pull Koba had in the back of his mind that wanted it to happen again so he could actually find some justification for not… Enjoying it.

#caesar #noa #blue eyes #anaya #koba #pota #planet of the apes #planet of the apes x reader #caesar x reader #noa x reader #blue eyes x reader #anaya x reader #koba x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader

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alottanothing · 1 day

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This is for @twola, who, about a week ago was having a bad day and wanted someone to write a snip of Arthur beating the shit out of someone who made the reader cry; with the addition of some smutty goodness, of course.

Well, this is the first time I've written publically for our dear cowboy Arthur Morgan. And I simply cannot write anything considered a 'snip'. So here's what my brain calls a snip; over 5k words just for you, twola. I hope this makes up for the bad say you had last week. :)

And shout out to my partner in writing crime, @itswormtrain, for making this readable!

Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, smut (18+ MDNI), oral (f!reader receiving)

The sun was beginning to set over the peaceful hills and sprawling trees of Cumberland Forest. Those lingering traces of daylight caress the rugged terrain with whimsy, casting shadows that dance over the dirt path under the hooves of your young stallion. Nature seemed to pause in reverence as the sun gracefully lowered itself behind the distant mountains; the only sound was that of your horse's steady walk and the murmuring babble of the Dakota River in the distance.

It had been too long since you’d enveloped yourself in such tranquility, seemingly always at the receiving end of Miss Grimshaw’s scalding. Any anticipation of exploring the wilderness or going on jobs with the guys was always overshadowed by the necessity of chores.

When you’d joined the ranks of the Van der Linde Gang, you had hoped you’d garner a little more excitement than a seemingly endless cycle of laundry, cooking, and mending. Sure, the mess in Black Water and the threat of the law constantly at everyone’s heels was a form of excitement, concerning, but still excitement. Though, things had died down since all that, and Horseshoe Overlook was truly an awe-inspiring place to call home for the time being. Even so, camp chores remained deeply understimulating.

In truth, you were just antsy; you always were when Arthur was away for more than a couple of days. Your mind always thought the worst, despite knowing your handsome outlaw was more than capable of handling himself on jobs and in the wilds. But that nagging concern never ceases to occupy your mind. His absence at camp was never more cumbersome than when Grimshaw was barking out instructions, or when Uncle’s drunken singing was so off-key, it scraped against your brain like a rusty old knife. You simply couldn’t stand it anymore; you needed peace and quiet—something to scratch that itching thought in the back of your head.

Admittedly, you hadn’t planned to venture so far from camp, or any sort of civilization for that matter. The towering ramparts of Fort Wallace were in your sights before you decided to turn back. Were it not for the shotgun secured in its holster on your saddle, the late hour would have left you feeling considerably more anxious. Arthur had taught you well, and instilled in you enough confidence not to worry as you trot down the dirt path toward Valentine.

There wasn’t a single soul to be seen for the majority of your journey; your only company that of your horse and Mother Nature’s comforting embrace. You almost hated the far-off glow of a town in the distance, over the crest of a hill. Soon you’d be back at camp with nothing to do but laundry and fret over your lover's absence.

“Pardon me, miss.” You nearly jump from your saddle hearing the strange man’s voice. “Thank god for you, would you mind – too terribly – giving me a ride back to town?”

Your heart skips a warning in your chest as you look around, where did he come from? The question dances in your head as you fight to form the words you want. This was O’Driscoll country—a notion you were suddenly very aware of, and your eyes glance at the rifle still tucked securely in the holster on your saddle.

“I was thrown from my horse, ya see—wild beast took off without me. ‘Fraid I hurt my ankle when I fell.” He explained, garnering a wave of sympathy that clouded the caution in your gut.

The stranger wasn’t dressed in the usual black and green of Colm’s gang: just simple trousers and a dirty work shirt and boots. What could it hurt?

“Yeah, alright,” you said, giving the man a faint smile.

“Oh, bless you, miss. Bless you,” the look of relief on his features did well to settle the remainder of the apprehension swirling in your stomach.

With a firm grip, you steadied your horse so the man could climb on, offering your hand to help him up.

And that act of kindness was your mistake.

His grip on your wrist was like a vice, painful, as he yanks you from your horse's saddle, your boots nearly getting hung on the stirrups. A sinister laugh echoes through the tall trees, splitting the serenity with the jagged sound of malice. Your stallion rears and cries, spooked by the abrupt movement, but the stranger is quick to steady him, forcing your horse into a full gallop toward the glow of Valentine leaving you where you fell.

When the shock wears off, you aren’t sure which was stronger, the wave of anger that envelopes you, or the sudden fear of solitude that brings forth the steady stream of tears down your cheeks. Both feelings were justified, you figure. That, and how utterly foolish you feel for trusting a stranger.

You knew better. Your time with the Van der Lindes taught you not to trust anyone, at least not someone on the side of the road pretending to be hurt. That was the oldest trick in the book. One you’d used several times to con someone out of something. Now, you were out a horse and a shotgun.

When the landscape grew darker as night fell, those shadows that you once looked on with awe and majesty, now loom sinisterly.

Stupid! You scolded yourself, more tears searing down your face. It would be dawn before you made it back to camp on foot; if you made it back to camp at all.

Without the security of your shotgun at hand, your confidence in making it home unscathed was growing short. Animals lurked in the trees around you; monsters both beast and man would undoubtedly set their teeth on you if they found you alone and without the means to protect yourself.

A shiver surges through you, a combination of the onslaught of fear and the chill from the mud you’d landed in. If you’d been riding with Arthur, no one would have the gall to steal from him. And if they did, they surely wouldn’t live long enough to get far out of reach.

You wipe the mud from your hands to your skirts before swiping at the tears staining your face. Maybe someone from camp would notice you hadn’t returned yet and send someone looking for you. Why hadn’t you asked someone to ride along with you, Mary-Beth would have, and she would have appreciated the quiet you wanted. But no, all you needed was the shotgun… How foolish you were.

With a sigh, you work yourself to your feet, boots, and skirts caked with mud and dirt. Even with the weight of self-pity beckoning you to stay planted on the side of the road, the rage put fire in your steps. You would make it back to camp, feet surely blistered, if only to lessen the embarrassment of being robbed.

Anger proves to be a useful motivator as you trek down the road before you, lit only by the white light of the moon. The tears had stopped, but they threaten to spill again simply from how much your feet hurt. That glow seemed to have tricked you; Valentine wasn’t close at all. All there was was trees and rocks and dirt in every direction. You were utterly alone; lost in the wilderness with only thoughts of your naivety to keep you company.

Suddenly, the sound of hooves pounding against the earth resonates through the stillness of the wood, sending shivers down your spine and provoking a new wave of tears. With every nearer beat of the rider’s approach, anxiety constricts your heart, sending a whirlwind of possibilities into your mind. Images of dark strangers conjure in your thoughts, each with a fiendish smile and a revolver on their hip, a green bandana tied around their neck. All your anger drains, as you feel fear creep deeper into your being. You wish you still had your shotgun.

“You need a ride, miss?”

Relief crashes into you like a wave against stone; you know that voice, deep and comforting—kind (to you, at least). This time, it was joy bringing tears to your eyes.

“Y/N?” The look of surprise was to be expected on Arthur’s face as he beholds the sight of you, muddy, with tears staining your face. “Darlin’, whattaya doin’ out here?”

Immediately he jumps from his horse, warm hands gently holding the tops of your arms as he gets a better look at the state you’re in. All traces of his hard exterior are swept away, leaving the softer, more compassionate man you fell in love with.

“Camp was driving me crazy without you. I just wanted to take a ride, but some asshole stole my horse—yanked me off my saddle an’ everything. S’why my skirts are all muddy.” You explain, fighting more tears.

Some of the softness fades, still, his voice is gentle when he speaks again.

“Did he hurt ya?”

You shake your head, “no.”

The pad of his thumb dances over your cheek tenderly as he tilts your chin to look at him.

“Darlin’, ya been cryin’.”

“’M just cryin’ at my own stupidity, is all.” You tell him. “Should’a known better than to trust a man alone in the woods.”

Arthur takes a deep breath through his nose, nodding.

“D’ja at least get a good look at ‘im?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you nod. “He took off towards Valentine.”

Arthur glanced south and nodded too, “Then I reckon that’s where we’ll find him.”

He places you on the saddle and mounts just behind you, drawing you close to his chest as he gives his loyal mare a gentle kick to urge her back onto the road.

With Arthur's arms around you, the darkness of the forest shifts back into the realm of tranquility. The menacing silhouettes of the towering trees became that of gentle giants, swaying gracefully in the night breeze. No longer did the whisper of rustling leaves hold a feeling of foreboding. The forest, in the ethereal silver glow of the moon, was a picture of peace and beauty once more.

Despite what had happened, even Arthur was a beacon of serenity. He hums as you both ride. It’s the same tune Uncle was singing when you left, only Arthur’s melody instills you with a sense of calm while Uncle’s attempt had you on the verge of threatening to remove his tongue. Every so often you feel his lips press to your scalp, leaving soft kisses in your hair and each one helps to remedy every sour thought plaguing you. It never ceases to amaze you just how tender your outlaw could be. To the civilized world, he was quite literally the poster of cruelty and evil, but for you, he was your knight in shining armor.

Valentine was quiet when the hooves of Arthur's horse turn down the main thoroughfare. The muddy roads, churned up by hooves and wagons, were dimly lit by the flicker of oil lamps. In the distance the stirring of livestock in their pens echoes through the stillness of the air, the only other sound coming from the saloon in the middle of town.

Smithfield’s always seemed to clamor no matter what time of night it was. Debauchery never slept, you guessed. The clinking of glasses and the lofty tune of the piano can be heard as you pass the sheriff’s office, a symphony of merriment in the still night air that lent such disregard to the tired citizens of Valentine.

A few men stand outside, bottles in hand as they lament lost love and glory, belching and hiccupping into the cool air. Horses tied to the hitching post whinny and jerk at reins keeping them in place, and there among them was your stolen stallion.

Arthur steers his mare to the front of the saloon, his heavy boots landing with a squelch in the mud as he dismounted. He helps you down, strong hands circling your waist and steadying you in the soft earth.

“I’ll be right back, darlin’,” he says and tips his head toward your horse. “Get yer boy, Imma go take care of some business inside.”

Before you can utter a word he stomps up the stairs of the saloon, his frame taking on the posture of The Enforcer as he pushes through the swinging doors.

His face wasn’t unknown here, it was only a couple of weeks ago he and a few of the other men from camp had gotten into some trouble. You weren’t there to see the fight, but you’d heard all about Arthur’s trip through the window—now boarded up and waiting to be repaired. This time, you hoped it wasn’t your handsome outlaw cast through the pane of glass.

While Arthur is inside, you deftly untangle your horse's reins from the post, gently stroking his mane to soothe his soft whinnying. You smile when he nuzzles you back, happy, it seems, to be back in your care.

“Was that awful man mean to you?” you ask softly, rubbing the coarse fur of his strong neck. “Arthur will handle it, don’t you worry.”

As if on cue, the jovial commotion in the saloon ends; the happy voices now holding anger or shock. The piano playing is lost to the disgruntled sounds inside and a moment later, the man who nearly ruined your night is thrown through the doors.

His bruised form topples down each step before landing in the mud. You watch, unable to quell the sense of pride that surges through you as you watch Arthur swagger through the saloon doors and down the steps, spurs jingling. The confidence he holds as he looms over the thief settles over you warmly. This act of violence was in the name of chivalry; the man deserved whatever justice Arthur planned to dish out.

“Didn’t need ya to point him out after all, darlin’.” Arthur's words fell from his lips with the ghost of a grin, pleased with the opportunity to put your attacker in his place. “This feller was inside boastin’ to the whoooole saloon ‘bout the horse he stole from a helpless young woman just outside of town.”

Arthur kicks the man as he tries to stand, the thief falling back into the mud with a groan. Folks begin to gather on the wooden porch of Smithfield’s, their faces twisting in looks of both concern and excitement as they watch your handsome outlaw and the man who’d stolen your horse.

“See, normally I don’t waste my time dealin’ with dim-witted horse thieves. Hell, on occasion, I am one. But you see, that weren’t just any helpless young woman ya stole a horse from… that was my woman.” Arthur deals him another kick to his gut, knocking the wind from his lungs a second time as he tries to stand.

“An’ if it ain’t clear already,” Arthur says reaching to pull the man from the ground and holding him by the lapels of his jacket. “I don’t take kindly to anyone hurtin’ my woman in any way. Ya understand?”

The deep timbre of Arthur’s voice works over your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. He looks so fierce in the flickering light of the oil lamps, the brim of his hat shielding his eyes from you, though you know they were cold, focused on the man in his grasp.

No coherent words fall from the thief's mouth as Arthur holds him nearly off the ground, only a moan of anguish, surely from the two kicks he’d suffered.

“Nod if ya understand,” Arthur demands with a shake.

Anger churns on the thief’s face, but he nods, slow, jaw clenching as he musters the gall to fight back.

“Fortunately for you, all I’m lookin’ for is an apology…” Arthur tips his hat in your direction. “…to the lady.”

The man’s dark eyes glance your way and he sneers, shaking his head with a mirthless chorttle.

“I ain’t apologizin’ for nothin’, especially when your woman is stupid enough ta get her horse stole in the first place.”

If you cared even slightly about the fate of the man who’d stolen your horse, hearing those words escape his mouth would have caused your stomach to drop knowing the sort of fire he just ignited. But, you want nothing more than for Arthur to beat him into a bloody pulp.

To your surprise, however, Arthur remains steadfast, but his voice is increasingly more sinister when he speaks.

“Maybe ya didn’t hear me. An apology. Now.”

“No.” The thief spat, a fiendish smile turning his lips.

With lightning speed and unyielding force, Arthur’s fist collides with the man’s jaw, unleashing a thunderous crack that has the onlookers gasping. The sudden impact propels the thief backward, his body crashing into the cold mud for a third time.

You expect him to stay there, really if the man had any wits about him, he would have. However, despite the two kicks and the blow to his face, the thief rose from the mud, foolish determination etched onto his bloodied features. Arthur almost scoffs and wastes no time proving the extent of his strength. He strikes him again, obliterating the remnants of the man's fractured jaw, the sound resonating with a deafening crack.

No one rushes to the man's aid when he falls to the muddy earth for a fourth time, wailing in anguish at his shattered jaw. Arthur stands over him, tall and formidable, his presence almost challenging the man to get back up, your outlaw more than prepared to deal out more justice.

“Should’a apologized…” Arthur chides. “If ya had, maybe ya’d have use of that jaw’a yours right now.”

The man groans in agony, writing on the ground as he holds his broken jaw.

“But I had ta keep ya from speakin’ ill’a my woman like that. I certainly don’t appreciate when slimy fellers like you use her kindness against her.” Arthur slowly circles the man like a fierce wolf circles their prey. “Then ya had ta go leavin’ her out in them woods, faaar from any sort of civilization, all alone. An’ well. I ain’t takin’ no apologies for that.”

He stops, one leg on each side of the thief before dropping to his knees, fist poised high over the old leather hat on his head. Arthur didn’t leave your attacker with only one more punch; the man under his weight had committed the ultimate sin in your lovers eyes. He’d hurt you, a crime that warranted the ultimate punishment.

The sound of each punch reverberates through the air as Arthur’s fury drives him to deliver decisive blows. As you watch, pride swelling in your breast, you swear each hit lands with such intensity the ground beneath you trembles. All the folks gathered to watch pass whispers while looks of shock mold their features. Come the morning, the town would be talking again about the stranger who liked to stir up trouble in the sleepy city of Valentine.

When Arthur finally stands, flexing his surely aching knuckles, the man beneath him is unrecognizable. Blood and bruises distort his face, teeth missing from his gaping mouth. His limp body is unmoving in the mud and you haven’t a care whether he was dead or alive.

There is a hint of shame on his expression when he drew himself back into your orbit, the coldness in his eyes warming in your presence.

“’M sorry, darlin’.” He says refusing to look you in the eye. In an instant, the Enforcer was gone, leaving only your kind knight in shining armor standing before you, his knuckles red and bloodied from dealing out justice.

“For what?” you say taking his injured hand in yours, wiping the blood from the cuts with a clean section of your skirt.

“For what I done.”

You shake your head and tilt the brim of his hat, looking to meet his lowered gaze. “All you done, Mister Morgan, is protect your woman. Ain’t a lick of shame in that.”

He grins softly, gently caressing your chin and cheek with his clean hand. His expression meets yours completely.

“’M just glad I happened upon ya when I did.” He murmurs and you step closer to him.

His gentle eyes, painted in a delicate watercolor palette of blue and green, softly convey the deep love he possessed for you, along with the ever-lingering fear of losing you. The exquisite blend of tenderness and vulnerability was something seldom seen by anyone other than you. And each time those meticulously built walls of his came down, you were honored to behold the part of him he kept hidden from everyone else.

“Me too,” you whisper, hoping the look you give him in return conveys the same sentiment.

The lives you lived held no real guarantees apart from a bullet or a hanging rope. You learned quickly to never take for granted a single moment, and this one you certainly weren’t.

“You ready to get back to camp now, darlin’?” he asks, fixing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Camp… you almost grimace at the thought of returning to the mediocrity of it all.

“Actually.” Your eyes glance over to the hotel across the way, mischief coating your smile. “Was thinkin’ I should reward my rescuer.”

His brows furrow following your glance, oblivious to your meaning.

Before he can open his mouth to form a question, you kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck, stretching on your tiptoes to gain the fullness of his kiss. As if on instinct his arms weave around your waist, your feet coming off the ground as he pulls you in closer to deepen the draw of your joined lips. It’s slow and lazy and perfect, his mouth undemanding but firm against yours, making you melt into his very being.

Your head is spinning when he pulls away, placing your feet gently back into the mud, and you can’t fight the smile unfurling over your wet lips.

“I’ll buy us a room at the inn,” you say, batting your eyes coyly. “S’ the least I can do for my knight in shining armor.”

Arthur laughed, heartily. There is an undeniable charm to the sound of his chuckle, as it cascades through the air, enveloping you with an infectious happiness each and every time you hear it. As his eyes hold yours, a playful glimmer twinkles behind them as he swiftly deciphers your not-so-cleverly veiled plan.

“A knight, hmm?” his brow lifts onto his forehead in a deep arch, his smirk firm on his lips.

You nod, “In shining armor.”

He chuckles again shaking his head before scooping you into his arms with ease. You gasp at the swiftness, and laugh too, draping your arms around his neck before planting a kiss on his bearded cheek.

“Well, then, I reckon I should play the part, shouldn’t I, sweetheart?” he says as he steps around your fallen, broken-jawed adversary on his way to the Saint’s Hotel. “Ain’t never been a knight before, just a dirty ol’ outlaw.”

You laugh and roll your eyes.

He whistles as he trudges through the soft earth for his horse to follow and his loyal mare falls in close on his heel. Your horse follows too, nearly as inseparable from his horse as you were with Arthur.

“Ya ain't old, and ya ain’t dirty…need I remind you who's got mud all over their clothes?” you say kicking up your soiled skirts to get his attention. He just laughs.

“Maybe ya forgot already, but I was on my knees in the mud beating the life outta that fool who robbed you. That makes me just as dirty as you. ‘Sides, I reckon neither of us will be wearin’ them for much longer anyhow.”

His comment, and accompanying bravado surges through you like more wildfire, adding to the flames he’d already been fanning since throwing your attacker through the saloon doors. Arthur’s confidence in his ability to have you swooning with only the low smokey sound of voice and the words he spoke had grown exponentially. Which was both something of a blessing and a curse. You enjoyed the days of flirting and seeing him grow red in the face from your flattery. Now he made you putty in his hands with a few words and a coupling smile.

For that moment, however, you decide it’s a blessing; he’s your Savior in Spurs—a cowboy casanova.

You toss a coin to the innkeeper from the pocket of your skirts and he casts you a key that you manage to catch as Arthur wastes no time making his way upstairs.

In truth, the Saint’s Hotel was no paradise; with its meager accommodations and thin walls, it was hardly a place to find rest. However, that night, that illusion of privacy might as well have been nirvana. You could hardly recall the last time the two of you had a chance to make use of actual walls instead of the canvas flaps of Arthur’s tent. Here, the neighbors were strangers who wouldn’t be casting you looks over the fire the next morning, knowing far too much about what you and Arthur had gotten up to in his tent. You were going to savor every tiny detail unabashedly while you could.

The fire was already burning brightly in the fireplace, warming the room from the cool mountain air outside the windows, adorned with sun-rotted lace curtains. The wooden floor creaked under each step as if to voice its displeasure at the neglect it had suffered over the years. The faded wallpaper, once bursting with colorful patterns, now barely clung to the walls, faded and dusty. The bed, while made with threadbare quilts and pillows, appeared sturdy enough not to break under both your weights, and that was all you truly cared about.

Your boots are the first to come off once Arthur places you back on your feet, discarded with a couple of eager kicks before his hands reach for the fastenings of your skirts. Yours wind around his neck, burying your fingers in his honey-brown hair as you kiss his soft lips.

For all the violence they inflicted mere moments ago, Arthur's hands were so very gentle, plucking at the ties holding your skirts in place, and again as his deft fingers loosened every button of your blouse with practiced ease, leaving you in just your chemise. Despite the warmth of the fire burning in the room, a chill works through you and you sigh, more gooseflesh prickling your skin as Arthur moves his hand to the globe of your breast, thumb sweeping over the covered peak of your nipple.

His featherlight touches make your mind a dizzying vortex of desire. This man, who uses his hands to deal out death sentences, only ever uses them to worship you. His mouth, which often spits out sarcasm and cruelty, paints your skin with tender presses and undeniable words of adoration.

Your hands snake from their place in his hair to the buttons of his blue work shirt, loosening only a few before he swats your hands away gently causing a whine to sound in the back of your throat. He meets your furrowed brow with smirk and a quick peck on your lips before moving your hands back where they were.

“Feels good, you doin’ that,” he tells you.

You gently scratch the hair at the nape of his neck. “This?”

“Mhm…” he leans to kiss you again, a slow, worshipful act as though he is trying to memorize every detail of your mouth against his.

Desire thrums through you ever hotter. You need him.

“Arthur…” you breathe in weak protest as his lips scour down the column of your neck, his hands pulling your chemise from you. “…I’m s’posed to be rewardin’ you.”

You feel him smile and shake his head as his kisses venture further across your collarbone. When he relieves you of your bloomers, you shiver and moan at the feeling.

“Don’t need no reward, darlin’.” He whispers against your skin between kisses. “Think its you that needs taken care of after whatcha been through.”

Calloused fingers spray over the small of your back as he brings you against him, the hardness in his trousers pressing against your bare form. You feel your own arousal coating your thighs, warm and wet, and begging for the feel of him inside of you.

“Will ya let me do that darlin’? Take care of ya?” his hands explore as he speaks, trailing down your spine before cupping your back side with a little squeeze.

Your head falls back with a ragged sigh, fingers tugging at this hair. As much as you want to tease and dote on him and show him how grateful you were for his timing, you can’t think when he has you like this: naked and vulnerable to his touch, mind cloudy with desire.

“Yes, Arthur. Always.” You murmur, lost in the blissfulness of his touches.

As if you weigh nothing, he takes you in his arms again, hoisting you aloft, and carrying you to the bed where he lays you so tenderly over the threadbare coverings.

You watch, heart pounding against the cage of your ribs as he quickly sheds each of his layers. It is a show you have seen a dozen times and helped with a dozen more, still, your lust-blown eyes gauge him with reverence and awe.

He is truly magnificent, your handsome outlaw; strong shoulders and wide chest dusted with coarse hair your fingers yearned to comb through. Warmth drifts through your body as you drink in every inch of him, eyes landing where his cock juts from dark curls proudly and your cunt clenches in anticipation.

“C’mere, sir knight…” you say stretching across the mattress, smiling, and batting your lashes. “…come an’ claim yer prize.”

Arthur chuckles heartily as he climbs into bed, and you welcome the press of his weight with a happy sigh. He teases your lips with his own, soft kisses that leave you wanting before the press of his tongue coaxes your mouth open. You reciprocate, drinking from his mouth with hungry groans.

Heat pools lower and lower where you want him most; feeling the long pulsing line of him against your thigh was like torture, causing another whine to escape your busy lips.

“Please…” you sigh, a slow undulation taking your hips in search of some form of stimulation.

Once more he obeys, his mouth laying a hot trail down your sternum, stopping to draw your nipple between his lips before traveling further down. The sensation of familiar, calloused palms gliding down the stack of your ribs as his kisses continue their way down, squeezing the swell of your hips and kneading the softness of your thighs have your quiet moans echoing through the room.

Arthur dips his mouth to your center abruptly and draws his tongue up through your slick folds, tasting just how much you need him, and he groans.

“Mmmm, darlin’,” he murmurs before swirling his tongue over the bud nestled at the apex of your cunt. “I don’t do this enough…”

You gasp, a flash of heat pulsing through your center, head rolling against the pillow. He didn’t do this enough, then again, the two of you rarely found yourselves so alone together. And there was barely enough room for the two of you on Arthur’s cot anyway, let alone room to explore other methods of pleasure.

He intensifies his exploration, drawing his tongue over you in wide flat strokes, while your thighs come to moor on his shoulders, heels digging into his back. You feel his shoulders roll as he dedicates himself fully to his task, thrusting his tongue into you, filling you with warm velvet before abandoning your core for the silky nub crowning it. Arthur's tongue curls against it until you shiver and gasp.

“A-Arthur…” your breath hitches, hooking your fingers into his hair.

A low purr rumbles through him as you press against his face, hips rolling in rhythm with his ministrations. Your lover sweeps his tongue over and around your clit repeatedly. Sensation swells low in your belly, feeling yourself nearing the ultimate peak and you tug his hair ruthlessly wanting more. Needing more than just his mouth. His truly wonderful mouth...

“C’mon, darlin’,” he mutters against your dripping cunt, the gust of his breath billowing over your heated center causing you to shutter.

Without fanfare a wide finger dips into your core, then another, making your back arch and a loud moan spill from your lips at the delightful stretch. For only a moment, your cry reminds you of the paper mache walls surrounding you; no doubt everyone in the Saint's Hotel knows what the two of you are up to, but you cared little with Arthur between your legs eating you out like he was made to do so.

Stars dance in your eyes as you skirt the edge of your undoing. He growls encouragingly when you flutter in warning against his lips and around his fingers.

“That’s it…” he murmurs, voice low and utterly sinful. You can even feel his proud, smirking lips against your center, the image alone snapping the spring coiled low in your belly.

Ecstasy hits you like white-hot heat, tunneling your vision as you jerk against his face, heels digging into his back. His name falls sloppily from your mouth in a flurry of mixed vowels and sounds that hold no cohesive meaning, each one melding into throaty moans.

“That’s my girl…” He grins, removing his fingers to lap up all the juices of your arousal as you ride out your orgasm against his face.

Slowly you come back to yourself, the tremors of aftershock fading as your breath and vision catch up to you. Arthur remains content between your legs, gently kissing the soft skin of your thighs, once more humming the tune he’d serenaded you with on your way into town.

When he smiles at you, lips and chin shining with your nectar, love burning behind his blue-green eyes, you pet his hair, holding that gaze with the same reverence. Slowly a smirk unfurls on your lips.

“Like I said, knight in shining armor.”

#Arthur Morgan #Red Dead Redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fic

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cherryredstars · 2 days

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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Age Gap

A/N: Missed them

Unedited

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5

Miguel sighs as he peers over at you.

You’re sitting on the floor, where your old, second-hand couch sat. The hardwood has discoloration to prove that the creaky furniture lived there once upon a time, a lighter shade compared to the dark surrounding wood. You haven't moved since Miguel told you to take a break after he found you on the verge of tears while you were packing away the items sitting on your bookshelf. Since then, he's carefully put the items away in a cardboard box and saved dismantling the shelf itself for another time.

You're picking at a loose threat at the end of your tank top, fighting the urge to cry by sniffling and blinking rapidly. Miguel's mouth thins before he sets the dish in his hand on the counter and makes his way over to you. He kneels besides you, tilting his head to the side to try to get a better look at your face. It proves futile as you hunch your shoulders forward to fold into yourself. Miguel is gentle as his hand grasps your chin, slowly forcing your head up to look at your face. He gives you a small smile, his hand moving to cup your cheek. His thumb applies the smallest bit of pressure to your skin as he rubs at the puffiness that's starting under your eyes.

His thumb catches the first tear that escapes pass your lash line, but the following tears come too quickly. You lean forward, burying your face into the crook of his neck as a sob wrecks through your body. Miguel is quick to wrap his arms around your shaking frame, adjusting his position so he can pull you into his lap. He whispers soft words into your ear, trying to calm you down as he runs his hand through your hair comfortingly.

"Shh, why're you crying, preciosa?" Miguel mumbles to you, shifting your weight on his lap to make sure your back doesn't ache later from the awkward position.

You only respond with a sniffle, trying to fit yourself closer against him. Miguel presses a soft kiss to the side of your head, not pressuring you to speak until you're ready. Eventually, your breath settles to shaky exhales and you pull away. Tears still trek down your cheeks, but you stubbornly wipe them away with the palms of your hands. Your cheeks come back red from the lack of oxygen and the irritation of rubbing your skin so hard. Miguel's usually burning hot touch turns to a soothing balm as he cups your cheek and presses his lips to your forehead. His arms stay wrapped around you, but they're loose around your hips. A silent show of support.

"I'm gonna miss you." You sniffle, the words coming out cracked as your lips begin to wobble with a new wave of tears forming in your eyes.

Miguel's smile remains soft as he kiss at your puffy eyelid, moving to cover every inch of your face in his feather light kisses. Watery salt blooms against his tastebuds, and he rests his forehead against yours to look into your shiny eyes.

"Only for a week, baby." Miguel reminds, "Then you'll come back home."

You look past his shoulder to look at the packed boxes around your growingly sparce living room. All the belongings that you've collected from your childhood home and from your years at university now stowed away in dull cardboard.

"Yeah, but it feels like I'm leaving forever when I'm packing up all my things." You mumble in defense, looking back at Miguel.

Miguel's smile widens as your eyes meets, a mischievous gleam twinkling in his eyes.

"At least you're not the one who has to unpack all of it." Miguel teases.

You huff before playfully swatting at his chest. It rumbles with his chuckle, his hand pinching your waist lightly. You cross your arms as you look down at him, glaring at the handsome man.

"It's not like you would let me help you, anyways!" You correctly conclude. "You're only bringing it next door, anyways."

Miguel rolls his eyes, "What type of help would you be? You can't even carry a single one of these boxes."

Your mouth drops in offense, but Miguel grabs your wrist before you can swat at him again. Miguel hides his cheeky smile in the palm of your hand, lightly kissing the soft skin. Despite the affection that you would usually melt at, you continue to glare at him.

"Do I have to remind you that I had to move into this apartment? Who do you think carried all this junk in here?" You reply, proud at your comeback.

The feeling quickly deflates when Miguel raises a brow. "Oh, you mean the boxes of junk that I carried into your apartment after I came home and found a pretty little thing struggling out in the hall?"

You open your mouth to defend, but Miguel cuts you off, "Or are you talking about the day I called out of work because someone couldn't figure out IKEA instructions and needed help assembling furniture?"

You slump, tears dried up and replaced with defeat. Miguel chuckles at you, kissing your pouty lips. You scrunch up your face as you pull away from him, getting up and turning away to continue packing up. Miguel watches you from the floor, shaking his head at the attitude you've quickly developed.

His arms come to wrap around your waist, gently swaying your body as you begin wrapping the dish Miguel set down before. You melt into the touch despite the sour look on your face. Miguel peppers small kisses to the side of your neck and to your shoulder, humming happily.

"Gonna miss my spoiled girl." Miguel speaks into your skin, sighing as the reminder of your fast approaching departure enters his mind.

"I'll only be gone for a week," You mock his earlier words, smiling slightly at the reassurance that you're not the only one that'll be affected by the time away.

"Too long, " Miguel argues. "Do you have to go back to your parent's house for break? Just stay here with me."

He tries to make his suggestion more convincing with a roaming hand, slowly dragging down to the waistband of your shorts. You snort, shrugging him off of you as you hand him the protected plate. He takes it from you with a displeased grunt, putting the plate in the designated box. You turn around, your arms coming to pull Miguel close to you again by loosely wrapping your arms around his neck. You raise yourself up on your tip toes to give him a few soft, quick pecks. He instantly returns them, a small smile growing on his face.

"I can't wait to move in with you." You whisper up at him, your own smile growing on your face.

"Too bad you didn't get evicted from that noise complaint, could've moved in with me faster instead of waiting for your lease to end." Miguel teases, beginning to sway your body again.

You roll your eyes, your cheeks burning up at the reminder of the noise complaint from a few months ago, the memory of what you did to gain that noise complaint flashing through your mind.

"I don't think I would be allowed to live in the building if that happened," You giggle, tilting your head at him.

Miguel hums dismissively, "Well, at least I have you all to myself now."

He leans down, and you close your eyes as you wait for him to kiss you. His nose rubs against your cheek, and you tilt your head to the side. You instantly regret letting him close to you when you feel the cold edge of his teeth before he bites down on the apple of your cheek. Your face twists in disgust as you push away a laughing Miguel.

"Ew, get off of me!" You demand, holding him back with two hands on his chest. "Go away and help me pack!"

Miguel chuckles as he walks away, warmth and happiness radiating off of him as he disappears to go pack up another room. You huff and roll your eyes as you turn back to wrapping dishes, wiping at the wet spot on your cheek. Your huff turns into a small chuckle as you smile to yourself, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from looking insane.

You can't wait to move in with him.

125 notes · View notes

milliesfishes · 17 hours

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𝓔𝓷𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

[fem reader] contains: nudity, talk of male anatomy pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: pirate billy x mermaid reader author’s note: based on my love @francixoxoxo 's pirate billy au- leaving the tag below. (thank you lovey for letting me write for this!) I have a mermaid special interest and it's been a delight. Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The sea was a home in and of itself, but it was lonely all the same.

Sitting on the rocks and looking out at the moonlight reflected on the water, Billy pondered this thought, but came to no conclusion from it. The crew of the ship was docked here for the night, on a regular supply run. It was also a chance for the men to stretch their legs, flirt with local women, blow off steam; gear up for the next bit on the ship.

It had been a long night of drinking and roughhousing, and truly, Billy was exhausted by it all. The usual distractions hadn’t sufficed, and now he couldn’t sleep, plagued by the thoughts he’d previously stuffed into the recesses of his mind.

Piracy was far from his first choice in lifestyle, but he’d had little choice in the matter. Growing up by the sea meant he’d taken to the work easily, and he got along with the crew well enough, but his inner voice irked him. It wasn’t honest work, he knew. And sometimes when he was tying a knot or leaning over the railing, he saw his life stretched out before him if he continued on this path. An endless path of mopping, sailing, robbing. He hated how it played out before his eyes.

Shaking his head slightly, Billy began to strip his clothes off, deciding maybe a night swim would clear his head and get it back to normal. It was never good when he got too deep into thought- it only made things worse for a future version of himself.

Summertime made the water warmer than it would have been otherwise, and he left all his clothes on the rock, sliding down into the water. The slight chill sent his thoughts scattering back into the dark from whence they came, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, some peace. A little while in the ocean and they ought to stay where he wanted them for a good while, maybe even until the next time the crew came to port.

Since it was dark, he floated on his back, unashamed of his nude state. He was definitely far enough away from the village that nobody would be able to see him without coming real close. Relishing in the quiet of it, he breathed the salt air and closed his eyes briefly.

While some found the sea terrifying due to the unknown of it all, Billy was comforted by the mystery. His mother had told him young that the water was like a woman; an untamable enigma. One could only fully appreciate it if they leaned into the secrecy. Regarding both women and the sea, the message had served him well.

There was a sudden splash behind him, and he shifted so he was treading water. It was probably just a fish, but he’d learned quickly in his days as a sailor to keep his guard up at the first hint of danger.

Turning in a full circle, Billy saw nothing. Just the moonlit water. The waves lapped gently at his chest as he surveyed his surroundings. A human wouldn’t have been able to hide this easily. An animal would have swum far from him by now.

He moved a little closer to the rocks just in case, keeping an eye on the horizon. Putting one hand on the rough surface of the boulder that held his clothes, he peered at the water below. Nothing, as expected. It was stupid to think he’d be able to see even a foot under.

Another splash. Billy jolted, whipping his head around. He was getting suspicious. “Anyone near?” he called, squinting as if that would make the visage of darkness clearer.

There was the sound of a body in water. A human body. Reaching up for his pistol on the rock, he half-shouted, “I know you’re there! I can hear ya.” Billy stretched his arm. The gun was just out of reach. “Come about!”

Just as he was convinced he’d made the whole thing up, there was a movement in the shadow of the rock a little ways from him, maybe ten feet. Something was hiding.

Intrigued, he stopped trying to grab his pistol. A feeling told him his unknown companion wasn’t a threat. Billy cocked his head, focusing on the spot. “I ain’t gonna hurtcha.”

Slowly, the creature revealed itself from the shadows. The pale light of the moon revealed more than he thought it would. He saw it wasn’t a creature at all. It was a woman. And a stunning one at that.

You were unlike anything he’d ever seen.

Beauty so rare it felt otherworldly. Long, wet hair sticking to your breasts, and he could tell they were bare under that. Your shoulders were uncovered, except by spiderwebs of hair.

He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. There was a magnetic quality to you that he couldn’t shy away from, that he wouldn’t if he had a choice. You blinked at him owlishly, innocently. “Are you a human?”

Oh, your voice. Lilting and light and only comparable to music. He regained his bearings, realizing the odd question. “‘Course. Were ya expectin’ the kraken?”

You tilted your head, gliding closer to him. He felt his heart palpitate as he got a better view. Now he could see the water clinging to your skin and eyelashes, your goosebumps from the night air. It felt like he was being studied, but somehow he didn’t mind. With anyone else it would have been bothersome. With you…he was happy to have caught your attention.

Reaching out, you took one of his hands in your smooth ones and examined it, turning it over once. You traced a finger over the veins, the bones. It was as if you’d never seen one before. Your touch set him on fire.

He realized the oddity of the situation. “What…what’re ya doin’?”

“It’s just the same as mine,” you held out one of your hands for comparison, flexing the fingers.

“I’d imagine it is.” His mind was half and half. One part grounded, the other transfixed by you, hanging onto your every move.

Shifting closer to him, your eyes wandered over his chest, his face, his hair, as if you were looking for something. Billy swallowed. “Is…is everything okay?”

“You’re just like the men we’ve got,” you said distractedly, not answering his question.

“How different are the fellas where you come from?” Billy asked, a thousand unasked questions on his tongue.

“Not much, apparently,” you said as your eyes roved over him. “Except-” your gaze fell below the water, and he got the distinct impression that you were looking between his legs. Suddenly remembering he was nude, Billy reached a hand down to cover himself, cheeks flushing even though it was dark.

“I…uh…” he stuttered, then remembered the water was pitch black. You wouldn’t be able to see him. He removed his hand, shifting a little closer to you now. “What’re ya doin’ out here so late?”

“I like night swimming,” you explained, not providing a reason for your state of undress. Billy wasn’t in any place to judge, since he was in the same way, but it was just so rare for women to be so unashamedly naked like this. Not the women he’d met anyways; you were clearly something different. Something special.

Still peering down into the water, you were squinting a bit. Again, he felt like you were looking at a bit of him he didn’t normally show just anyone. “It’s dark…maybe if I got a closer look-” You made like you were going to dive down, and Billy quickly caught you by the shoulders.

“Ah…let’s not get so close, dontcha think?” he smiled boyishly, slightly distracted by how silky your hair was even though it was wet.

You seemed to understand. “Maybe another time.” As he was holding your shoulders, Billy sunk a little deeper, and you perked up. “Here, let me help you.” Gently, you pushed him against the rock, just holding him there. He was surprised by your strength. Not that women couldn’t be that way, but he was a fully grown man. Yet another strange thing to categorize. But the more unconventional you were, the more of a desire he felt to know you.

“Do ya…do ya come here often?” he asked, trying to learn something about the strange woman by the rocks.

“Not nearly as much as I’d like,” you smiled, and his heart stuttered. “My father doesn’t like it when I stray too far.”

“Especially when you’re meetin’ strange men after dark I’ll bet,” Billy grinned, and you laughed, pretty and clear.

“I don’t imagine he’d like that very much, no,” you sighed. “Especially since you’re…you know…” you nodded at his body.

He nodded back, his grin still evident. “Ah, yeah. Ain’t imaginin’ he’d be too pleased if he knew I wasn’t wearin’ anythin’ either.”

You frowned confusedly. “It’d probably be more about you being human.”

Now he was lost. “Now…why’d that be an issue? You’re…”

There was a beat of silence. You drew back a little, fidgeting with your fingers. Lips rounding in an oh shape, you swam back further, shyly. Leaning back a little and biting your lip nervously, you lifted your tail out of the water. A long, shimmery fish tail.

Billy’s eyes widened in surprise. And suddenly your fascination with his anatomy made sense. He moved closer curiously, but you drew back, looking slightly frightened.

Recognizing it, he stayed where he was, instead outstretching a hand. “I’m not gonna hurt ya. I was just…surprised is all.” Some of the men on the crew had spoken of dangerous women with tails who sang sailors to their deaths and made them mad with lust, and he hadn’t known whether to believe them. But here you were in front of him…harmless, shy and inquisitive.

Reemphasizing his hand, he gave you a smile. “I just ain’t never seen any merfolk before, not in person. But I ain’t gonna do nothin’ bad.”

Looking from his face to his hand, you cautiously moved closer. Billy nodded encouragingly, trying to coax you over. An idea struck him. “I’ll letcha look at my…” he looked down between his legs. “...sometime.”

Your eyes lit up at that. Cautiously, you reached your hand over to his, your soft meeting his rough. He brought you closer, so your stomachs were a breath’s width from touching.

Now that he had you here he was even more enchanted. He knew why he’d been so drawn to you; no doubt it was a part of your mermish characteristics. But there was something else here, something sparkling. Your eyes were like the sea, tumultuous and secretive, and he liked that.

Lean into it.

Billy dipped his head and caught your lips in a brief kiss. You tasted like salt, which only made him thirsty for more. When he pulled back, he saw your eyes were wide like the full moon behind him. “What was that?”

He smiled. “A kiss.” Reaching up, he thumbed the side of your cheek, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

You searched his eyes. “We don’t do that where I come from.”

“Ah,” he watched your expression. “Did you like it?”

Adorably, your brow furrowed slightly in thought. Then you slowly nodded, lips parting slightly as you looked up at him. “Yes.”

Billy hummed, his fingers finding the spot under your chin. “Do ya…wanna do it again?”

A slow smile came to your face, and you nodded again, tilting your head up and waiting, looking expectantly at him. He chuckled slightly, the hand that had been holding yours sliding around your waist and pulling you into him. Now he could feel the line where your skin ended and your tail began. Soft and sleek, all of you was.

“Close your eyes,” he said warmly, and you obeyed, your chin still lifted. Smiling at the sight of you, waiting to be kissed, he committed the image to memory. Your eyelashes were touching your skin, causing a pearl of water to fall from one of them, looking like a tear. Skin glowing from the light of the moon, hair wet and curling over your torso, you were a vision.

Then he leaned down and moved his lips against yours again, feeling like every star in the sky had decided to smile upon him that night.

Maybe he’d imagined he could be captivated by a mermaid, but he never dreamed he’d be kissing one.

Billy felt your hands slide up his chest, seemingly testing the waters. He smiled against your lips, nuzzling his nose on your cheek. His hand lifted to slide into your hair, holding the back of your head and pushing your mouth onto his.

You seemed unsure what to do with your hands as they were settled on his shoulders. Billy sensed it and took his other hand off your waist, fingers grasping your hand and dragging it into his hair. It seemed that instinct took over, and your fingers combed through his curls, eliciting a quiet groan from him.

Pressing your chest into his, you folded your arms around his neck, your hand remaining in his hair. The action lifted your body further up, and he lowered his hand to where your bottom would be if you had legs, making you shiver against him.

Pulling back slightly, he ended the kiss with a few gentle pecks, slowly easing you out of it.

Your smile when he opened his eyes was radiant. Billy traced his hand up your bare back, stringing through your salt strewn locks.

“Why do humans do that?” you asked in a hazy way, smiling sweetly up at him.

He returned it, feeling happy in a carefree, foolish way. “To…show other people ya…ya like ‘em. Cause it feels nice.” He stroked the apple of your cheek. “Did it feel nice for ya?” That part was asked in a whisper.

Your eyes were soft, slightly stormy in the best way. “I liked it.”

Billy smiled and leaned in for another kiss, but you lifted your head suddenly, as if you’d heard something. He frowned. “Are you-?”

“I have to go,” you said hurriedly, fixing your eyes back on his. Carefully, you pressed your lips to his for a slow kiss goodbye, and he felt like he was floating.

Before he knew it, you had slipped out of his arms and the last thing he saw was the glimmer of your tail on the horizon.

Billy didn’t move for a moment, dazed by you. He took in a breath, laughing slightly in disbelief.

A mermaid. He’d kissed a mermaid. And it had been like fireworks.

#billy the kid pirate au #billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney fanfiction #william h bonney x you #billy the kid imagines #billy the kid au #billy the kid 2022 #william h bonney imagines #william h bonney #milliesfishes billy #Spotify

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iliketangerines · 2 days

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Would you be able to write something with mk11 Liu Kang and female reader? Where reader was almost killed in a fight but Liu Kang manages to save them in time? And as he's treating her wounds he confesses his feelings for her and they have sweet and emotional sex?

Thank you in advance! It's amazing how many requests you post a day on top of uni. Keep up the good work! I get so excited when I see that you posted something new :)

a new love

a/n: i need them BOTH NEOWWW

pairing: liu kang x afab!reader x kitana

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), face sitting, chest play, grinding

you can hear cheering all about you, muffled behind the ringing in your ears as you clutch at your side, blood seeping into your armor and leaking onto the ground

the pain burns you, spreading through your body slowly like a poison, and you can feel your heartbeat pounding against your chest much too quickly to be normal

the world is hot and sweaty, too much and too little at the same time as the ringing in your ears fades in and out with the sound of ragged breaths

a hand places itself on your shoulder, and you flinch at the contact and draw your weapon as you blink at the person, trying to find the energy to continue fighting

you hear the familiar voice of Kitana, warbly and dull, and the silhouette of Liu Kang joins the fuzzy figure of Kitana’s as you fall down to the ground on one knee

looking down at the blood pouring from your side, you try and put your hand over the wound to stop the bleeding

and yet, your own hand is too heavy to lift as your eyes begin to close, and you can feel someone touching you, lifting you, cradling your head

it feels so familiar and safe, warm and comforting to be in the hands of whoever is holding you, and you let your weapon fall to the floor as your eyes close and let darkness take your consciousness

when you wake up, it’s the high rise ceilings of medical ward in the Outworld palace, and you groan as your head pounds with pain

you attempt to sit up and hiss through your teeth at the pain that shoots through you as you do so, and you struggle to breathe for a second as you sit up and pull your shirt up to assess the damage

a sizable bandage covers yours torso, and you probably just broke something considering the blood that had started to seep through the bandages

there’s a creak as the doors to the medical wing open, and you spot Kitana and Liu Kang conversing with each other and holding some food

although Liu Kang looks rather strange with glowing white hair and eyes and tattoos, but you could recognize his face anywhere

both of them stop as they realize you’re sitting up, and then in an instant, they’re both next to you, pushing you down and checking on your bandages

Kitana scolds you, telling you to be more careful, and Liu Kang frowns and asks if you feel okay, if anything felt out of place, if the bed was comfortable enough

you wave the both of them, saying that you were fine, that you’re a warrior and you would survive a simple stab wound

Kitana growls at that, saying that it wasn’t just a simple stab wound and that it was no laughing matter

Liu Kang crosses his arms and nods his head as Kitana goes on and on about how you should be more careful with your wounds and your defensive positions

eventually, she runs out of breath and criticisms and pinches the bridge of her nose and looks at you, saying in a soft voice that she was very worried about you

the champion chimes in, saying that the both of them had been very worried about your state of health and that you had been out for almost two weeks

he continues, saying that your wound wasn’t even healing properly for at least a week, festering with diseases and what not, and that it had only started to heal properly only a few days ago

you look between the two of them, and you mumble out that you’ll be more careful next time Shao Kahn comes around

Liu Kang glances at Kitana before looking back to you saying that Shao Kahn was no more, Kitana was Kahn now

your head whips to her, and she smiles and nods at you as your mouth drops open into a smile and you laugh and squeeze her hand

she laughs with you and can’t help it as she dips her head in close and plants a kiss on your lips, and you lean into it, melting into the touch

her hand comes up to cup the back of your head to bring you in a little closer, and you sigh into the kiss and bring your own hand up to cup her face

she’s warm and soft, familiar and comforting, and you want to pull her into your arms to get even closer, to press yourself against her and feel her completely

but then she pulls back, eyes filled with wonder as she looks at you, and she whispers quietly that she’s missed you

Liu Kang pouts at you and asks where’s his kiss, and you laugh and say that he can get one any time he wants to

immediately, he leans down and presses a kiss to your lips as well, eyelashes tickling your cheek as his eyes flutter close at the feeling of you against him

he pulls away after a few moments, and he mutters that although he and Kitana would love to hold you closer, you needed to heal for a few more weeks

you frown at the two of them, opening your mouth to protest, but the both of them shoot you a glare and you settle back down in the cot without a single word

Kitana then adds on that Liu Kang was a god now, and you nearly shoot out of bed at the comment

the next few weeks are torturous as you heal, the two of them barely touch you, treating you as if you were glass, and you were frankly had gotten over the doting after the first few days

you were an Edenian warrior, powerful and great and experienced with fighting and war, you could handle yourself just fine

the nurse looks up at you and clears you for fighting again, and they leave the room as Liu Kang and Kitana help you up from the bed

smacking their hands away, you grab your belongings and storm out of the room back to your bedroom, frustrated that they were treating you like a child

you throw your items back into their places angrily and dress yourself in your training outfit, determined to blow off some steam and prove that you weren’t helpless

as you pull on the last part of your training robes, Kitana and Liu Kang walk into the room and glance at each other and then at your furrowed brows and how your fists clench angrily

Liu Kang asks what’s wrong, and you hiss at him and tell the both of them to leave you alone and that you’re going to train

Kitana grabs onto your arm and pulls you back, asking why the hell you’re acting like a brat, and you scowl right back at her and say that you’re a fully grown adult warrior, you do not need to be doted on like a child

the champion sighs and asks what they’ve done wrong, they want to fix whatever mistake that they’ve made, and you turn to them with an expression of disbelief

you step closer to them, pointing an accusatory finger in their direction, and you list every single thing that they’ve done to baby you, barely touching you, treating you like a fragile little thing, like you can’t protect yourself

you’re frustrated, you just wanted to be with them and be close to them and have them close to you, and yet they kept on avoiding every time you reached out for them, only ever touching you to change your bandages

it had left pent-up energy in your body, sexual frustration and anger at the both of them, and you were tired of them acting like you couldn’t handle yourself

breathing heavily, you sigh and unclench your fists and press the back of your hand into your forehead, and you take a second to just stare up at the ceiling and gather your thoughts

you look back at them, and Liu Kang looks sad, lips turned downward in a frown and brows furrowed

Kitana, on the other hand, looks hard and all edges, none of the softness of Liu Kang, lips pursed and eyes glinting in the light like a predator’s

she steps toward you, Liu Kang following behind her, and she tilts your chin up with her finger, asking if you were done

Liu Kang comes up behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder, arms coming up to circle around your waist and kiss apologies into your neck

she says that her and Liu Kang had been careful with you because you had been on the brink of death, you had died

you blink at her and let out a small what in disbelief, and Kitana sighs and puts her hands on her hips, looking down and grimacing before finally looking back up at you

your heartbeat had stopped for a minute, you had technically died in front of Liu Kang and Kitana as they carried you to the medical wing, there was blood splattered all over the ground, a trail that had taken a whole day to clean up because of how much there was

they thought that you didn’t survive in the fight that they had caused, and for weeks they had thought you were never going to wake up

neither of them want to risk accidentally hurting you again because they’re scared of hurting you, and Kitana looks away as she finishes, huffing as she holds back tears

none of you speak for a moment as you take in the seriousness of what had happened to you, and you bring your hands to hold Liu Kang’s shaking ones

you can feel his tears on your shoulder, and you look at Kitana, mumbling that you didn’t know

she takes in a shaky breath, saying that you were right though, you are a very capable fighter, one of the best in Sun Do and that she and Liu Kang shouldn’t have diminished your ability to fight because of their own fears

stepping closer to you, she raises one of her hands up to cradle your face and asks you to let them make it up to you, and you breathe out an okay

Kitana nearly throws herself into you as she smashes her lips into yours, one hand continuing to cradle your face and the other on your shoulder, nails digging into the soft skin

Liu Kang behind you resumes his kisses to your skin, hands moving so that they rested on your waist, and he squeezes it, sighing into your skin that he missed you, that he loved you

you can barely hear him over the sound of your own noises as Kitana kisses you breathless, only pulling away to give herself air

she pulls your forehead to rest on hers, panting and letting your breaths mingle as Liu Kang whines for attention as well

you turn your head to the side, and he meets you with his lips, pulling you into a soft kiss and moaning into your mouth

Kitana’s hands slides along your body, squeezing at your chest and making your knees buckle as she slides her hands up and under your shirt to pinch at your nipples

Liu Kang hums and pulls away, staring at you with those soft eyes, and he whispers that they should move to the bed

you nod in agreement, head already spinning from being surrounded on both sides, and Liu Kang picks you up, hooking one of his thick arms underneath the bend of your knees and the other underneath your back

holding onto him for balance, he deposits you on the bed so that you’re flat on your back before going back to kissing you, his weight pressing into you

your hand reaches out blindly, and you can feel the familiar weight of Kitana’s hand in yours and squeeze it as Liu Kang desperately kisses you

it’s messy and wet, teeth clacking against each other and breathless pants before moving in for more, but neither of you can find yourselves caring at the lack of air

he rips at your clothes, the fabric burning in his hands as he stares at your chest and moves to dip his head low and press his tongue to your nipple

his hand ghosts over the scar on your side, and you shiver, making him whine into your skin and look up at you in worry

you whisper that it’s okay, just feels sensitive, and he nods, holding onto your side gently as he starts to suck hickeys into your chest

Kitana tilts your head to look at her, and you squirm underneath Liu Kang’s weight, wanting to please her as well

she laughs at your impatience and tells you to be still, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go of it and pulling back

the complaint dies in your throat as you watch her undress, revealing her lean body to you, muscle hidden in its thinness, and she crawls up onto the bed and asks if you wanna please her

you nod at her, whimpering out a please, and she laughs and says that she thought so before coming over and straddling your face while facing Liu Kang

she slowly lowers herself onto your face, and you bring your arms up to hook around your thighs to bring her even closer

your tongue comes out to fuck into her pussy, and you moan at her taste, having missed her, the weight, the taste, the pleasure

Liu Kang wraps his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around it before lightly nipping at the sensitive bud with his teeth, and it makes you jolt and lose concentration for just a moment

Kitana hums as your tongue stops moving briefly, and she lets you regain your concentration, riding your face as Liu Kang teases your chest

you can barely concentrate with Liu Kang biting and kissing at your chest, moving to the other nipple and giving it attention while Kitana rides your face

the lack of air only makes everything more intense

it’s like you’re breathing in pleasure as you feel Kitana grind her hips further into you, and you happily let her use you for her own pleasure as you use your tongue to fuck her

the feeling settles into your lungs, spreading down your veins slowly into your stomach, pooling and building, and your thighs squeeze uselessly around Liu Kang’s waist to try and get some friction on your needy clit

he moans into your skin as you squeeze his waist with your legs, and he bites into the skin of your chest harshly as Kitana moans loudly, cumming on your face

it’s all you need to cum in your own pants, lapping at Kitana’s taste and squeeze her thighs with your arms, and you try to ride out your high on Liu Kang

however, he doesn’t seem to notice your own desperation, too lost in his own task on littering your skin with his marks, and your orgasm sputters out, making you whine and sob and twitch underneath his grasp

Kitana lifts herself up off your face, and you whine again at the loss of her warmth

she comes around to smile at you, telling you did so well for her before going to Liu Kang and grabbing his hair to pull his head up

he whines at the feeling, looking to Kitana, and she says that they were making it up to you, not to pleasure just themselves, so why did he ignore you to chase his own selfish needs

the words take a second to settle into his brain, and he looks to you with a downcast look and mumbles out an apology

Kitana tells him to get on the bed, on his back, and he follows the order quickly

she helps you get up onto your shaky legs and tells you to remove his pants, and you do so with clumsy fingers, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach

slowly, Kitana straddles his waist and orders you to grind against his cock, and you do so, biting your lip at the feeling of the head of his cock pressing into your clit

your slick covers his cock as you start to grind against him involuntarily, and she coos at you, telling you that you’re doing amazing and to take what you need

you grab onto her shoulders for balance as you whine and chase your own pleasure, and Kitana chuckles, grinding against Liu Kang’s abs

she groans at the feeling, slapping away Liu Kang’s hands and telling him that he’s not allowed to touch her and you and that he’s not to cum until she tells him to

he whines but obliges, panting and gripping onto the sheets as you grind against his cock, the tip bumping against your clit and making you keen

you grind your hips down further, too lost in your own pleasure, and Kitana grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss

moaning into her mouth, you cum on Liu Kang’s cock quickly, still sensitive from the precious one, letting your cum cover his cock and drip down onto the sheets and his waist

it only makes it easier to grind against him as you ride out your high, and Liu Kang keens underneath you to, begging Kitana to cum

she ignores him, continuing to ride his abs as she kisses you, and she whispers praises to you as you slow down and pant for air

Kitana bites her lip as she cums again on Liu Kang’s abs, sighing at the feeling and grinding her hips faster against him

he begs again, please, and she lets her orgasm die down first, getting up off of him and helping you off of him and to lie next to him

she grins at the champion, telling him to stretch you out for his cock, show you how sorry he is for neglecting you earlier, and he eagerly shuffles until your thighs are resting on his shoulders and his tongue assaults your sensitive clit

as his fingers thrust into you and you whine, Kitana leaves the bed and rummages around in the drawer before pulling out her strap

you eye her as she attaches it to herself, and she crawls back up to you, saying that they were going to make it up to you tonight

none of you are seen for the rest of the day

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francixoxoxo · 14 hours

Text

𓆉 Opals and Pearls 𓆝

Pirate!Billy the Kid x Mermaid!reader

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦— 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐡𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬!

I wanted to put out something short and sweet to introduce my pirate/mermaid au for Billy the Kid!! I’ll definitely be writing more for this and eventually putting out a long form fic for ao3 and here on tumblr so stay tuned

You had Billy entranced since the moment you met.

Your eyes shone and glimmered in the light like opals, you moved and spoke in a way he’d never seen before. Your hair fell over your shoulders, thick and voluminous despite being wet, covering your ever-bare breasts. You wore little jewelry, but what did adorn your neck and wrists was made of pearls that added, not distracted from your impossible beauty.

Not to mention your lower half, a tail of iridescent scales that caught the light in ways reminiscent of stained glass in a church. Meeting you certainly felt like Sunday mass— you made him want to fall to his knees and worship you. You were perfect.

Billy met you at night, under the cover of darkness on the shore, where you lay with your belly in the surf. The way your eyes brightened as he came close made his heart swell to burst. “Hi.” You had your hands clasped on your chest, hiding something from him.

He had a few guesses as to what it was, as he shrugged off his boots, rolling his pants up to his shins and wading ankle-deep in the water. “Hey, darlin’.”

Sometimes Billy wondered how such an ethereal woman, a mermaid could find him interesting. For Christ’s sakes, you had the voice and heart of an angel. You were so esoteric, so mystical. If the ocean was a woman, you were her— incomprehensibly deep, he’d be a fool to try and understand every corner or curve of you. He was just a man.

But that seemed to be what you loved about him; there was a calming, rugged simplicity in him. A humbleness you wanted to appreciate with your whole soul. He adored you with no expectations. His love was not debt.

Billy sat on the damp sand, not minding his pants getting wet from the small, lapping waves. You had the giddiest smile on your face, crinkling your eyes and absolutely enthralling him. Perhaps it was your inhuman nature, something special about your being, but you drew him in like a sunfish on a hook. He regretted his silly human need to breathe— otherwise, he would happily let you drag him to the bottom of the sea if it meant he could be with you. Really, truly be with you. No fears of Jesse and the rest of the crew finding out and harming you. No fears of your parents discovering Billy and your meetings, and never allowing you to the surface again. Fears of this strangely beautiful connection being ripped from him, where it had already nestled itself a home in his heart.

But he would settle for this, only for the glimmer in your eyes and smile on your cheeks as you opened your hands. “For you!” Billy leaned over his knees, his lopsided grin growing to match yours.

In the center of your palm, the smallest of shells, a soft cream dappled with brown at the creases. “F’me?” Billy couldn’t help laughing the words, gently turning over the shell in your hand to find that the inside of it was a smooth lavender. Beautiful and delicately intricate— not unlike you. You hummed softly, the sound a song of itself, pressing the dainty shell to his own calloused palm.

“Do you like it?” Your brows drew together hopefully as you watched him inspect the shell. Billy snorted through his nose, shaking his head and looking up to meet your gaze.

“It’s beautiful.” He confirmed softly, “ain’t surprised you found it. Beauty knows beauty.” The way your nearly luminous eyes twinkled at the compliment, Billy felt a bit weak at the knees. You pushed yourself onto your hands, folding your tail under you and leaning forward to press a tender kiss to his slightly chapped lips.

You tasted like crisp saltwater, a stark contrast from your soft, surprisingly warm lips. When you broke from him, far too soon for his liking, you carefully took his fingers and curled them protectively over the shell. “Could I get you more?”

As if you even had to ask. Billy tucked some water-logged hair behind your ear, silently admiring the dainty pearl earring the action revealed. “You kiddin’? I’d love more, baby.”

Well, he’s not sure what he expected. Maybe a couple more before you got tired of it.

Billy didn’t expect that every time he met you, regretfully always in the dark, you bore gifts that he didn’t know how to repay. Billy’d scoop you into his arms, treading along the shore to give you a taste of what walking around must be like, and you’d lift a palm full of little shells, sea glass and pearls.

Once, you’d swam up to him as he sat on the rocks. Billy cocked a brow, eyes glancing under the water, “Whatcha got there, pretty girl?” And you’d smile shyly, swimming closer.

“Close your eyes, Billy.” You willed, taking his hands from his knees and moving them to cup to receive the gift. He was grinning boyishly, dark brows lifted as you placed something much heavier than he expected into his hands. Well, not particularly weighty, but much more than the few pearls and shells you’d given him. It was full of ridges and jutting edges, rough on his palms and wet from the saltwater.

“Can I look now?” Billy grasped the object gently, trying to subtly get an idea of what it was. You perched your elbows on the rock by his legs, admiring his face for a moment. Part of you wanted to reach out, to feel the subtle on his jaw under your fingertips. But you resigned to nod and coo, “Look.”

He opened his eyes, the blue irises bright with mirth as they settled on the large conch in his hands. He laughed a bit, turning over the sand-colored shell and admiring it. “Awh, baby! Y’outdid yourself, huh?”

The sheer joy in Billy’s expression filled you with a giddy pride. Apparently the things you’d accepted as natural, common things were beautiful rarities for him. And the happiness you felt from sharing them with him never seemed to ebb. “I knew you’d like it.”

“I love it. I gotta get you somethin’ sometime, it ain’t fair.” Billy’s eyes flicked to you, holding yourself up on the rock and staring up at him with twinking doll-like eyes. Your chin propped up on your fist, your wrist bare. An idea flashed behind his eyes, but he played it off by shifting the conch to one hand, the other holding your chin and tilting it up to him. He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours gently.

You let out a soft hum into the kiss, reaching your arms wound around his shoulders to, with surprising strength, tug him down into the water. Maybe his clothes were getting soaked, and maybe it was a bit cold for a swim, but Billy’s eyes crinkled in a deep laugh, carefully placing your gift aside and pulling you close.

“I don’t need anything.” You protested, voice sweet as honey against his water-logged muss of hair as he pecked at your neck. The giggle bubbling past your lips told him otherwise.

You deserved the entire world.

Billy took much care in selecting a gift fit for you. A plain chain wasn’t good enough— well, frankly everything affordable in the market wasn’t good enough. He was beginning to think that no worldly gift was worthy of being ‘round your wrist.

Pearls seemed too on the nose. Besides, if you wanted pearls you would’ve already been drenched in them, with how common you told him they were where you’re from. Anything with shells or sea glass felt just the same— he wanted to give you something you’d appreciate as something new, the way he appreciated everything from you. Something special. Nothing seemed to meet his standards for you.

He nearly gave up, planning to try at the next port town and just give it to you when the ship docked back here. Just as he was about to make his way to the pier, a particular jeweled bracelet caught his eye. He couldn’t have imagined a better gift for you; a simple golden chain, adorned with three sizeable opal stones. Stones that shone like the scales of your tale, iridescent like everything about you.

It had been most of his salary. But he didn’t give a damn— it was perfect. You were worth more than gold or riches, anyway.

What was even more priceless was your reaction. Billy tread through the sand with his hands behind his back, staring at the back of your head as you stared out at the horizon, the stars coming down to meet the sea. When you felt his presence more than heard it, you leaned your head back to look at him looming over you, a grin splitting your features. “Hi.��

“Hey, princess.” Billy hummed, crouching to press a kiss to your temple before moving to sit cross-legged beside you. His hands were cupped in his lap, hiding the gift. If you glowed this beautifully in the moonlight, he wondered if seeing you in daylight would knock him senseless. You pressed a simplistically beautiful little peach shell into his knee with a smile. “Mmm, pretty.” Billy hummed, pride washing over you similar to the seafoam currently lapping over your tail.

Your bright eyes flicked to his hands, brows drawing together in an impossibly cute expression. “What’s that?”

Billy smiled nearly shyly, pulling his hands apart and lifting the gold bracelet laid over his fingers. Lying over his knuckles, the teal flecks in the opal caught the moonlight in a way reminiscent of your scales. The grin that parted your lips was worth every minute of searching, every penny spent. Your hand came up to cup over your mouth, regretfully hiding that smile as you gasped.

“Oh, is it for me?” You gawked, reaching out to trace a finger over the chain, a free hand splayed over your heart. Billy nodded, smirking proudly. You didn’t have this kind of jewelry where you were from.

You let him clasp the bracelet ‘round your wrist, you admired the way the metal and the stones caught the light. Oh, you’d never seen anything like it!

Finally, Billy could give you something equally special as everything you’d given him. He could finally return the favor of showing you his world. He wondered if the bracelet would bring thoughts of him to your mind, a smile to your lips, the way all your gifts had for him.

Billy could only hope to be half as preciously intriguing to you as you were to him.

#billy the kid pirate au #francescas anthology #billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #tom blyth #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #billy the kid 2022 #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney fanfiction #billy the kid imagines #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid smut #pirate billy X mermaid reader #Spotify

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deathblacksmoke · 2 days

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if not for you

pairing: matt dierkes x reader

word count: 1K

cw: emotional hurt/comfort, sweet bb matty

author’s note: needed some more matty on my masterlist, so my beloveds @darksigns-exe and @circle-with-me gave me some ideas <3

divider by @saradika-graphics 💛

It has yet to fully set in that he’s here with you, with no permanent end in sight. You’ve grown so accustomed to missing him, to making do with quick video chats and phone calls. The steady beat of his heart beneath your head feels fake. Like a fantasy.

You toy with the string of his hoodie, his favorite that he leaves with you when he’s gone. It’ll go back to being yours eventually, but you push the thought away, choosing to think about it another time. You hear him snicker from above you, his hand placed gently between your shoulder blades, patterns delicately traced over your back. You gaze at him and it’s like the first glance every time, being met with his bright, beautiful smile.

“What are you thinking about, honey?” he asks you, his touch shifting up to place his palm to your cheek. You close your eyes to the bliss of the feeling, his warmth radiating through you, before your expression settles into a pout. He tuts at you before his fingers hook beneath your jaw, angling your face up so he can get a look at you. “What’s on your mind?”

“How much I’m gonna miss you when you leave,” you whine, hating the way you sound while being unable to stop yourself. His mouth sets into a frown, too, and it tugs at your heartstrings painfully.

“Where am I going?” he teases, and you’d normally find it funny, but you’ve dug your heels into being sad. You don’t have any way to back out.

You normally tag along with them for the shorter stretches of shows, take time off from work to spend a couple days with Matt and the guys. He comes back home with you at the end of it all and everything is fine, nothing hurts.

It’s never too long after that before he’s gone so long that his scent is gone from the sheets and from his hoodie, so long that Boo and Zeus no longer stare out the front door pitifully waiting for him to come home. You know it isn’t fair, to make him feel guilty, but an ache sets itself so deep in your chest that you can’t help it.

“Wherever the next tour takes you,” you say, whimpering a little pathetically before burying your face in his chest again. The hand he keeps steady on your cheek does very little to soothe you, not in the way that it normally would. “It gets longer each time. You go further away.”

He sits up when he senses your body beginning to shake, the start of some embarrassing waterworks that you’re helpless to prevent. He gathers you into his arms, wrapping you up tight in his hold. You feel yourself begin to settle, though you’re not quite lulled. A delicate, barely there kiss is placed to your forehead, another to your temple. He wipes away the tracks the tears have left on your cheeks and you allow yourself a deep breath in, and then another.

“You’ve got a while yet before you have to worry about any of that, honey,” he assures you, and you know it, but it doesn’t stop you. It never has, even as foolish and silly as it makes you feel, wasting precious time being sad when he’s right here with you. “I’m right here.”

You place your hand over his where it rests on your cheek and let yourself sink into that feeling. He’s here, he’s right here, and he’s staying for a while. He’s solid beneath you, tangible, warm, and real, and for once you know he’s sticking around. You do your best to chase away that fear that he’ll vanish into thin air, be ripped out from under you like countless times before.

“For how long this time, Matty?” you ask him. He rolls his eyes but he drags you closer still. You’re lightening up but your heels are still dug.

“For so long you’ll be begging me to leave by the time I go,” he jokes, knowing you’ll be clingy and asking for one more kiss until the moment you part with him at airport security. “You’ll be so sick of me.”

You beg time to pass slowly, for time to stop and for it to be you and him for just a little while. You bring his lips to yours, kiss him slowly and commit it to memory, the way it feels to have him solid beneath you and soft in front of you, the way his big hand feels where it’s warm on the small of your back.

“I could never be sick of you,” you assure him. You know he knows it, that he was saying it in jest. Nonetheless, you need it to be said. You need to make sure he’s always told how much he means. The moments you briefly imagine your life without him cast a black and grey over everything — life turns dark. You only wish he could be around all the time. “I would be lost. So lost.”

“I know, baby. I’m right here. Don’t worry now.”

You wish you hadn’t turned your peaceful afternoon nap into something sad, something dramatic and agonizing. You allow yourself to relax, take your final deep breath and bring your hand to his jaw, kissing him deeply. You need to keep yourself firmly planted in this moment, in every moment you have with him until he leaves you again.

His skin is warm beneath your palm, his eyes solely focused on you. He smiles, knowing it’s what you need from him. You allow yourself to settle.

“Maybe I can finally convince you to come with us next time,” he adds. It’s an offer he always makes, every last tour. You always turn him down as quickly as he asks. You’ll let him have his thing.

The offer sits in the back of your mind. Maybe you could go remote at work. Maybe you could quit. You wouldn’t have to say goodbye to him anymore. For the first time, you let yourself really consider it.

“Maybe, Matty,” you respond. His grin and the way his hold tightens slightly on your hips makes up your mind.

taglist: @circle-with-me @darksigns-exe @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens @sitkowski

@somebodyels3 @broken0mens @collapsedglasshouses @cookiesupplier @abiomens

@monotoniscreaming @bngurngheart @agravemisstake @iknownothingpeople @anameunmusical

@itsafullmoon @somewhere-diamond @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @fadingangelwisp

@cncohshit

#matt dierkes fic #matt dierkes fluff #matt dierkes rpf #bad omens fic #bad omens fluff #bad omens rpf #deathblacksmoke works

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secretlyharumi · 2 days

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new and updated theory on the source of lloyd’s power!

in dragons rising there definitely has been lore dropped here and there but more than anything I find ammunition to power my long winded theory that lloyd’s powers come from his heart, in theoretical and just elemental sense.

doc wyatt has established there isn’t a set explanation (YET) in show, but he did like one of my tweets regarding my claim that Lloyd’s power resonates within the heart and soul.

starting out, lloyd’s power has never been defined. it is hinted by the writers that lloyd has no idea what it is, though what we do know is that it—-

1) can create life and destroy it (the book of elemental powers)

2) draw energy from the elements

3) shield oneself / very powerful in attack

4) does not belong to the source dragon of energy but belongs to the source dragon OF LIFE

5) has some sort of connection with the FSM

and lastly, by LEGO GROUP’s definition.. it’s ENERGY.

energy can have have different meanings. energy in lightning’s case seems to be the electrical sense, but energy can .. power up things, it makes things work -

energy is also used as a synonym for life force, this is demonstrated when referring to the act of draining source dragons and the whack-rats.

what i am getting at, is I believe that energy in the sense of lloyd’s powers is that he holds the essence of life itself. his power works hand in hand in his survival as well as keeps him alive.

now to connect him to LIFE , a source dragon, was very interesting but made a great deal of sense. Life is in everything, energy can create life.. who created life?

THE FSM used elemental powers to bring Garmadon and Wu into existence, he also holds the ability that past his death, he could steal lloyd from the mortal world to speak to him in the grasslands.

the elements of creation can be drawn from in their energy for lloyd, but the elements of creation were the core four.

LIFE = Lightning, Ice, Fire, Earth

so….

that also makes sense as to when he was dying in mystake’s tea shop that they had to use their elemental powers of creation to revive lloyd or heal him.

now jumping into the theory that will always be my favorite, and the show itself actually jumped into it was elemental powers being felt or drawn from different places depending on the elemental powers, ie nya with veins, zane with his mind, etc etc etc—

lloyd’s power comes from his heart in my opinion.

firstly, life—- energy is what makes the heart beat, you cannot live without that.

mentally, lloyds power has always been his true self, his heart, the way he cares so deeply for people (even if they do not deserve so)

green in spirituality also represents the heart chakra, it is very similar in description.

but as someone so close to his mortality, and who i believe is always aware of such, it makes so much sense.

in s8, when his element is fighting for him as he’s succumbing to his wounds in the fight in krytparium it sparks on his chest,

following this— the elemental master figures that were released in the SOG wave depicted different elements and where they were located differed on the ninja, lloyds was insanely insanely obvious—

overdrawing from his element has caused him great sickness multiple times. we see this with golden power, then we see this with him fainting while using his element against griefbringer in MOTM (something very opposite to his element— death)

the fact that his power kept him alive but also left him for a bit after he almost was on the brink of dying in s8

now with dragons rising and the conduit putting him in a semi coma for several days because of his mortality

he puts his hand on his heart when he approaches the imperium source dragon when saying “this place, i feel weird”

him believing he’d die from conduit power…

it’s justttt…

but that being said there is so much they could discuss about lloyd in show, whether discovering his powers, or seeing the actual scope of what they do

lloyd is very hesitant and he out of anyone never talks about his powers or how they work

but there’s so much there, like what if his elemental power could heal people or bring people back to life (other than himself LOL)

#lloyd garmadon #ninjago lloyd #ninjago dragons rising #dragons rising spoilers #lloyd stop being on the brink of death #lloyd montgomery garmadon #lloyd ninjago #lloyd #ninjago #ninjago dr s2 #my long winded theory #tell me what u think #q

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zweiginator · 2 days

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being forced to go to a fancy gala with your mom and stepdad, and of course--your step brother, patrick. wearing a long, silk dress that hugs your body. the satin material almost seems to caress your tits.

and patrick has noticed you're beautiful. he's not an idiot. he's a boy in his twenties who still wakes up with morning wood like it's clockwork.

he has been very careful around you. maybe because his dad pulled him aside after he broke up with his last girlfriend. told him he needs to be more gentlemanly. work on how he's perceived. boys who act like this don't get pretty wives and good children.

patrick never claimed to want those things, however. but he is intentional with his gaze. doesn't let his eyes linger, although they beg to.

the dress, though. it's the product of dreams. satin and emerald green and low cut but still modest. tight yet flowy where it needs to be.

patrick drinks far too much champagne. pretends to care about the surface-level conversations he's halfheartedly contributing to. is he excited about going on tour? what about college?

who fucking cares? -- is what he wants to say.

he loosens his tie and goes out back for a smoke. the air is breezy and cold for early august. it feels good in his hair. and you're out here too. looking out onto the water. your heels sit beside you, one toppled over.

"hey." patrick says from behind you.

"oh, hi pat." you turn around, leaning your back against the railing. rusted metal bars that dig into your palms.

his cigarette is limp between his lips. the flame extinguishes itself, but patrick doesn't bother to relight it.

"your dress is really nice." he says. "the color really suits you."

you look him up and down. his hair is nicely done, styled but still messy in its own regard. his tie is crooked but his suit is pressed nicely, perfectly tailored. an easy shade of black that isn't hard on the eyes. but it contrasts nicely with the hazel in his eyes.

"your get-up isn't so bad yourself. you clean up nicely."

the way you look at each other in this moment confuses you. both of you. watching the wind blow the chimes hanging from a nearby gazebo and the moon wane as your chests rise and fall. wondering if you would have ever crossed paths if not for your respective parents doing it for you. thinking about summers tangled in each others' sheets--what could have been.

but you're step siblings. and it will never be. it can't. patrick nudges his elbow against yours, and you grab onto the swell of his bicep. he walks you back inside with his suit jacket over your shoulders and you both pretend, in your own innocent way, that you can love each other, like that. for the night.

#ask #challengers #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #stepbro!patrick #angsttt #au where step bro patrick actually has morals and his relationship with his father is already so complicated and fucked up that fucking #his new wife's daughter / his step sister is low even for his standards #so he bites his tongue and hooks up with girls he doesn't really like #who vaguely remind him of you #and he has to actively remember their names or yours will fall from his mouth during sex. it's so readily available.

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sexy-monster-fucker · 19 hours

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Hey again pookie bear. I know we both saw that gif of the pajama pants with Lee 👀 Can you write something about cuddling with him in said pants and maybe doing a little more in said pants, yknow what i mean? I'm giving you creative freedom I just want the pants fic LMAO

Love you my pookie bookie boo bear

HELL YES! He is too fucking fine in those pajama pants dammit! I’d do anything for you, I love you too pookie wookie 😘

Lee Russell x Reader

You sat on the couch in the living room. Mindlessly staring at your phone, scrolling through posts of people you had not seen or spoke to in a long time.

Lee was in the other room. Fresh out of shower. Getting into his pajamas.

Eyes shooting up when Lee entered the room. Tenderly smiling at him. Unable to deny the certain part of him that caught your eye as he strutted into the room. Outline of his cock apparent in the loose fitted pajama pants. You watched as it swayed with each step he took. Arousal pooling deep down inside you.

Lee sat beside you on the couch, planting a soft kiss to your cheek. Noting the way your eyes scanned up and down his body. He sat back, spreading his legs and giving you a better view of him. His arm wrapping around and pulling you against his shoulder. You fell into his grasp, nestling your head in the crook of his neck. The aroma of fresh soap strong on his skin. The sweet musk of his shampoo faint.

“You smell so good,” you cooed. “Thank you, dear. I’ve always gotta be good for my lady,” Lee smiled at you. He clicked on some random channel on the TV, not that you could pay attention. You were too fixated on how perfectly his cock was outlined in his pants. How he sat perfectly perched it so you could see his soft member. You blushed fantasizing about taking him in your mouth.

You placed your hand on his thigh. Fingers spreading across the smooth fabric. You kissed his cheek as your hand traveled further up to his groin. Lee eyes watched as your hand journeyed up, smiling at your desperate fingers toying around the base of his clothed cock. He readjusted his hips, pushing himself further into your grasp.

“See something you like, sweetheart,” southern drawl dripped off his hush voice.

Heat rose to your cheeks, your eyes unable to move away from the growing erection. His hard cock pitched a tent in his pajama pants showing you just how big he really was. Your hand found itself wrapped around his member through his pajama pants. Lee huffed a satisfied breath feeling your hand begin to stroke him.

Lee turned to capture your lips in a kiss, sloppily exploring your mouth with his tongue. Grunts and moans fell from him as you picked up speed. “Fuck, Y/N…” Lee praised you breathlessly.

Free hand finding his balls, fondling them. Shaky air fell from Lee’s lips at the sensation, rolling his hips into you. A small dark spot began forming where the tip of his cock pressed against the pants, precum leaking from it.

You smiled while watching Lee scrunch his face up in satisfaction, completely lost in the feeling of your hand stroking him. His hand gripped your breast, massaging it through your shirt. Pinching at your nipple as it hardened. You kissed at Lee’s neck, his head falling back in ecstasy.

Lee began thrusting up into your grasp. Moaning desperately for you. “Goddammit… I’m— fuck—“ he was a complete mess in your grasp.

The fabric in your hand grew wet. Lee’s chest heaved as he came. You continued stroking him through his high, feeling the heat of his cum as it soaked against your hand. He leaned forward, dark hazel eyes catching yours. His cheeks flushed as a smile painted his face.

“Sure did make a mess,” Lee stared down at his groin, a chuckle paired with his heavy breathing. He had completely ruined his pajama pants. You smiled at him, kissing him.

“You’re too good to me,” Lee chuckled as he stood up. You blew a kiss at him, “I’m always here to please you, Mr. Russell.”

“Don’t worry,” Lee began removing his pants as he walked making sure you got a good view of his semi-hard cock, “I’ll make sure and pay you back for it.”

{end}

#lee russell #lee russell x reader #vice principals #walton goggins #walton goggins x reader #vice principals x reader #writing #sexymonsterfics #requested

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reallyhatethiswebsite · 2 days

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Bratty bottom Raph and gn reader for sweet anon 😊 nsft

Such a rare and wonderful treat you had splayed beneath you. A feast laid out on red silk. Raphael’s usually well-kept hair was in disarray from the amount of times you’d run your hands through it. Big brown eyes were wide, black-hole pupils consuming his irises. In them you could see your reflection looming above him, perched on his abdomen with your thighs either side of his belly. A lovely, fetching flush spread across his cheeks and ears. His throat bobbed when he swallowed. You followed it with the tips of your fingers, resting them in its hollow. His neck seemed bare. He’d look amazing in a collar, you thought. Maybe some day he’d wear one for you.

“Is it your plan to do nothing but ogle me all night?” He snapped. His handsome aquiline nose always scrunched up when he did. What a stunning creature.

“You say that like you don’t enjoy being ogled,” you replied sweetly. The erection you felt against your ass was an obvious indication.

“There’s a time and a place,” the devil said between grit teeth. He gripped the meat of your thighs, dug his fingers in. If he were in his true form, no doubt you’d have shallow wounds that he’d lick clean when you were done. Instead, his blunt human nails bit crescents into your skin. The dull pain was quite pleasant. You rocked back a little, pressing on his cock. He hissed, rolled his hips as best he could. Trying to rub his aching prick against you. It felt thick and hot, like soft steel. At its base, squeezing him just right, was a ring. Made of infernal metal. Enchanted with runes. No matter how close he was, no matter how many times he’d been brought to the edge, Raphael couldn’t come.

In his long life Raphael had collected many different interesting toys – plugs, rings, dildos, cages, things like that – but this ring was your favourite. Simple but incredibly effective; say the right word and it would displace itself, giving you full control over when and where your devil could orgasm. Such a rush, a thrill like no other, to test him and his limits. Of course he could overpower you whenever he wanted, but part of the fun, the game, was to see how much he’d let you get away with. Touching him in places you normally couldn’t, feasting on his sexual ruin, licking tears of overstimulation from his cheeks as you milked his ruddy spent cock and overworked his prostate until he whined for you to stop…ah, there was nothing like it.

Raphael didn’t often submit like this. Only when the mood took him, and he’d been stressed lately. He was clamouring for orgasm; desperate for it. Beads of sweat rolled down his temples. His jaw clenched tight. Nipples hard and full of blood – you’d been relentless plucking them like sweet strings, suckling when the desire struck, telling him how pretty he’d look with piercings you could roll around on your tongue. His chest heaved. His bulky frame trembled. He was going to leave bruises where he held you. You could just imagine how full and fat his balls were. He was almost at breaking point. You supposed you had been playing with him for a while now.

“Poor thing,” you cooed, swiping his bottom lip with your thumb. You moved away before he could bite it, knowing him too well. If looks could kill, you’d be a pile of ash – and yet beneath you he remained. “I suppose I should take care of you. You’ve been such a good boy, after all…”

“You are treading on very thin ice, little mouse,” Raphael growled, but as always, his body betrayed him. He shuddered. His upper lip curled, angry, frustrated. The threat in his eyes was real, you knew, and yet… You wanted to play just a little bit more.

You smiled innocently, reached behind you to hold his cock, so warm and stiff and heavy in your hand. The devil watched, rapt, as you lifted yourself up and guided his cockhead to your entrance. You were ready for him. Always ready for him. Both of you sighed in unison when you rubbed his sticky glans around your hot hole, a tiny tease, but he was getting impatient, pushing down on your thighs.

“Inside,” he hissed, brown eyes flashing yellow briefly, a hint of glistening fang. “Let me inside.”

“As you wish,” you purred, sinking down on his cock completely in one drop. You groaned throatily as you took him in. He always made you feel so full. The way he tensed, his sharp inhale, the twist of his expression; these things told you he would’ve finished instantly. Except you hadn’t taken the ring off. You felt it nudge against your hole when he bottomed out.

“Damn you!” Raphael barked raspily, composure disintegrating. He viciously bucked his hips, teeth bared. You tumbled forward with a cry, your hands flat on his pecs for stability. For a moment you felt claws digging into you as he struggled to maintain control of his form.

“Tell me what you want,” you breathed. Your faces close when he reared up. He was done laying pliant. You slipped into his lap as he crushed you tight. You could taste his humid panting. His stare burned.

“You know what I want.”

“Say it,” you whispered. “I want to hear you tell me.”

He was so handsome even when he sneered so terribly.

“I want to come, you contemptuous creature,” he snarled. He bit your mouth, spat the rest of his words behind your lips. “I want to finish inside you. I want to fill you with my spend. Mark you from the inside. Make you mine body and soul. You are mine. Now let. Me. Come.”

“Fuck,” you gasped. How could you say no to that?

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #fanfic #cringe #happy testicle tuesday

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museadvicecorner · 1 day

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Show, Don't Tell (Unless You Want to Sound Like Me): A How-To and How-Not-To Guide

Hey, my cute little Muses! It's your favorite (or maybe not) self-proclaimed advice-giver who still can’t get her own writing life together. Today, we’re tackling the age-old advice: “Show, don’t tell.” A rule that’s as confusing as trying to assemble IKEA furniture without the instructions. I mean, who needs those, right?

Why "Show, Don’t Tell" is Like the Holy Grail (and Why You Keep Dropping It)

"Show, don’t tell" is like that elusive treasure we all chase in our writing journeys. It’s supposed to make our stories vivid, our characters relatable, and our readers engaged. Instead, it often leaves us feeling like we’re playing literary Twister with our brains. So, let’s dive into this mess, shall we?

When to Show (Because Apparently, Descriptions Are Fun)

Imagine your character is sad. (No, not just because they’re reading my blog.) Instead of saying, “John was sad,” you could show it:

- Tell: John was sad.

- Show: John slumped on the park bench, staring at the ground as if the answers to life’s miseries were etched in the cracks of the sidewalk.

See? Now, John’s sadness is palpable. You can almost feel the weight of his despair. Or maybe you just feel the weight of your own struggles trying to craft such sentences. Either way, it's a win-win.

When to Tell (Because Ain’t Nobody Got Time for That)

Sometimes, you just need to get to the point. Not every moment needs to be a cinematic masterpiece. Here’s a hint: if you’re bogging down your story with endless details, you might be overdoing it.

- Tell: It was a cold night.

- Show: The icy wind howled through the leafless trees, its chill biting at the skin like a thousand tiny needles, making every breath visible in the frosty air.

Yeah, I know. The second one sounds fancy, but do we really need a weather report? Unless your character is battling the elements, a simple “It was a cold night” will do. Save your energy for the scenes that matter. Like the one where your protagonist has an existential crisis (which, let’s be honest, is probably inspired by your own).

The Balance (Or How I Pretend to Know What I’m Doing)

Finding the balance between showing and telling is like finding the perfect coffee-to-milk ratio. Too much milk and it’s bland; too little, and it’s just bitter. The trick is knowing when to be a barista of words and when to just dump the coffee and move on.

Here’s a worthy example (and by worthy, I mean it won’t make you want to claw your eyes out):

- Show: The corners of her mouth twitched upward as she watched the puppy stumble over its own feet, a laugh bubbling up from her chest.

- Tell: She was amused.

Both have their place. Use the first when you want the reader to be in the moment with the character. Use the second when you just need to convey information quickly and get on with your life (and your story).

The Overuse and Underuse (Because Moderation is for the Weak)

Let’s be real. We all either overuse or underuse this rule. Some writers show everything, turning their stories into long-winded epics that make "War and Peace" look like a quick read. Others tell everything, creating a narrative that’s as exciting as a grocery list.

Final Thoughts (Aka My Rambling Conclusion)

“Show, don’t tell” is crucial, but like most writing advice, it’s not a one-size-fits-all. Understand it, play with it, and most importantly, don’t stress over it. Remember, even Shakespeare probably had days where he was like, “To show, or not to show, that is the question.”

So, go forth, write brilliantly, and remember: if all else fails, you can always come back here for more advice (or just to feel better about your own writing skills by comparison).Happy writing!

Until next time,

Muse Advice Corner (a.k.a. the person who has way too many notebooks)

P.S. If this post didn’t help, at least you can say you survived reading it. That’s an achievement in itself.

Your feedback on my blog would mean the world to me! If my posts make you smile, why not fuel my caffeine addiction? Any support is super appreciated, even a comment too. Got any topics you want me to dive into? Just holler. Need some custom writing prompts? Hit me up anytime! :⁠-⁠) Also I'm thinking of starting a writing community do tell me what you think about it (⁠◠⁠‿⁠◕⁠)

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nanaminokanojo · 20 hours

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BAD NEWS (part 61)

-just when you thought you were over your humongous crush on your older brother’s best friend, geto suguru, you couldn’t have been more dead wrong, except satoru doesn’t like suguru for you because he knows his kind all too well: a huge ass playboy who breaks hearts like he changes socks. but you think, MAYBE you’ll be the exception…maybe not.

CHARACTERS: drummer!geto suguru x you/afab reader | gojo satoru | various jjk characters

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 61 next>>

You wished on all the forces of the universe to remove you from your current predicament. Have the floor swallow you whole, for the roof to cave in, make you disappear. Anything, any second now. But nothing. The universe isn't on your side, not this time. And you continued to stand between the counter and Suguru, gnawing at your lower lip so much, it's probably bleeding. All the while, you kept your eyes away from his unrelenting stare, fixing your eyes on the silver skull pendant that hung below his collar.

Suguru patiently stood his ground before you, not saying anything as time ticked by one agonizing second at a time. You can hear his every breath, fanning over your forehead. One minute movement and you'll be touching him. Not a good idea considering everything that happened. But it looked like there was no escaping this time.

Squaring your shoulders, you dared to meet his gaze, but you immediately shrunk back to your awkward state, except the words were already leaving your mouth before you could stop them. "You wanted to talk?" you croaked, your confidence dying in your throat when you saw the frustration dancing in his eyes.

Despite that, he was gentle in his approach. "That's what I said, kitten."

Or so you thought, regretting your next words. "C-can you um..." You motioned for him to move back, but he shook his head at you much to your chagrin.

"No. I don't think that's necessary."

You shrugged, sulking as you shifted your weight to your left leg. If he wasn't going to let you have your space, you can make it difficult for him, too. "Fine." You folded your arms over your chest, a satisfied smirk drawing itself across your lips when he slightly moved back at the action. "Talk about what, Suguru?"

His expressions were unreadable as he paused, evidently testing the waters. "Looks like I'm jumping all the hoops today, but I'll indulge you." He leveled his face to yours, mouth stretching into a grin. "Let's talk about that Sunday night you came home drunk. Particularly the part where you and I –"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" You were covering his mouth with your hand before he could finish, giving him a heavy look which he returned with one of understanding before you withdrew. You let out a loud exhale, feeling your knees go weak at the thought that the matter hangs between the two of you for discussion. You weren't ready, but you had to be if either of you are going to be okay with each other again without you evading him all the time regardless of how things would go.

You looked at him sheepishly. "Do you have to be this close though?"

He rolled his eyes at you. "You're not going anywhere this time, sweetheart."

Curse him for knowing you too well. "You're too close –"

"Getting shy with me now? Thought you wanted me this close." He arched a brow at you, getting in that pushy mood you disliked when directed at you.

"When did I say that?"

"Do you want specifics?"

"Now, you're just being exasperating." You did an eye roll which made him chuckle, but you were having none of his geniality. Instead, you pouted at him. "What about it, anyway?" you mumbled.

Suguru scoffed, the sound coming out with a little laughter of disbelief. "Did you seriously just ask me that, kitten?" He had taken a softer tone on you despite himself. "So, it's a trifling matter to you?"

You sighed. Talking about such things was hell on earth. You've taken drastic measures before just to avoid it, but he seems done with your nonsense. Suddenly, you felt tired, finally letting go of your guard and resting your forehead on his chest, prompting him to stand upright. You've always sought his familiar warmth without inhibitions, and you found comfort in the way he held you.

"That's not what I meant. It's nothing I can trifle with, as you put it. You're not someone I can just take for granted, and you know that."

"Y/N, that's exactly why I wanted to talk about it," he told you. "You're very important to me, too, and I don't want this to become the reason we fall apart."

The sincerity in his tone made you feel a little guilty although you knew it wasn't the intention. Suguru may have his flaws, some of which pissed you off terribly, but you can never deny that he cared for you, first, as Satoru's best friend, and second, as an actual friend to you. Your antics after what happened, something you even initiated, wasn't a good look, but you still felt like countering him on that despite the looming possibility of his words.

Stepping back a bit, you met his gaze, quickly regretting it when you saw just how intensely he was looking at you. But you leveled with him, all your unspoken feelings for him coming up to the surface and pretty much making your self-control crumble. He just held so much power over you, and he didn't even know it.

"Why does it have to make us fall apart?" you asked.

"Because..." He moved closer to you, large hands landing on your hips as he effortlessly lifted you up onto the counter, making you yelp and smack him on the arm from being startled. He chuckled as he stood before you, eyes lighting up as you pouted when he booped your nose. "You have a knack for avoiding things you don't want to deal with, better than you avoid your opponents on the field."

"I do not!" you protested, but it was met with a wry smile.

"Really now, kitten?" he challenged. "You managed to avoid me even in this house. Thought I wouldn't notice you sneaking out in the morning? Or how you made Megumi come here the day later just so you won't have to face me?" He feigned hurt but was unsuccessful in concealing the sly glint in his eyes and the slight upward twitch of his lips. "I made you hangover soup, you know."

You shrugged, feeling your face grow hot. "I'm sorry, okay?" you snapped, but the fight in you has long cooled down. "I just..."

"Yes, kitten?"

"I didn't know what to do about it," you mumbled. "I needed to think."

"And?"

You looked at him with narrowed eyes, silently considering what to say, and maybe you should be bolder like all those girls who pretty much got what they wanted from him one way or the other albeit momentarily. You weren't going to be one of them, were you? Come to think of it, he wouldn't even be around if the thought didn't bother him, would he? You just weren't sure in what manner, but you were going to make sure you weren't going to end up getting the short end of the stick.

Looking back to that night, he didn't force you into anything, even trying to stop you, but if this whole affair with him was one-sided, he wouldn't have done anything to cross that line with you at present and even a year ago.

"Does it bother you?" you asked him instead.

"Yes..." It was his turn to be uncertain and awkward. "Somehow, it does."

Huh, you thought, pushing further. "In what sense?"

"If you're asking if I regret it, kitten, I don't, and neither do I feel sorry in general save for the fact that you weren't clear in the head when it happened. I feel like I've taken advantage of you –"

"Okay, stop. I knew what I was doing, Suguru. I'm not exactly a kid you're supposed to babysit regardless of how you view me," you countered.

"Hmm. How exactly do I view you, Y/N?"

"Oh, I don't know. Your best friend's kid sister?"

Suguru arched a brow at you. "That's always been your opinion about me, sweetheart. I never said that. Otherwise, I wouldn't..." He let his words trail off as if he caught himself, but was hiding it under the guise of not wanting to state specifics.

You chuckled without mirth. "Do you realize what you're saying right now?"

His eyes went dark as he pushed his tongue against his cheek, jaw ticking as he ran his ring-adorned fingers through his hair in utter frustration. "Believe it or not, I do."

You faked a gasp, thrilled to your toes at his little revelation and deciding to make him 'jump the hoops' as he put it earlier. "My, my. My brother's best friend has the hots for me? Who would have known?"

"Y/N..." He sighed. "Kitten, don't say it like that. You make it sound like I'm some creep who stole your virtue."

You scoffed playfully. "You're the one acting like a damn virgin here since earlier. Now, I feel like the creep who stole yours."

"What?" He looked so appalled at your words that it was comical and you couldn't help giggling at his expression. "You little –"

"You're cute when you're flustered."

He rolled his eyes at you, but couldn't help but join in your laughter anyway. And as if nothing happened, you're back to being your silly selves around each other again. Or so it seemed in that moment which easily broke when he spoke again.

"So...did you dislike it?" he asked cautiously, looking at you from under his lashes. He sounded hopeful, and you couldn't help but think if he was ever any degree of vulnerable around anybody else.

"I don't know. I was drunk, remember?" you decided to bait him, and he bit it, making a face at you. You laughed even more at that.

"I'm serious, kitten." Suguru inched closer and closer, eyes hazy as he looked into yours, and you didn't even realize he was already standing between your thighs.

Shoot your shot, you thought to yourself, only hoping you won't regret it, but it seemed like a problem for future you. "I believe I made it clear just how I felt about it."

"Mhmm." His reponse was shaky at best, and you loved that you had this effect on him, too. "I can show you more, kitten," he whispered, lips almost touching yours, his piercing gaze daring you to make the next move as they shifted to your mouth ever so slowly, the intensity making you feel like he was touching you without even doing it, making you squirm.

But you weren't about to give in easily, inching back slightly even as your hand slid up his shoulder. "I don't know, Suguru." You smirked at him. "Can you?"

He returned the gesture, eyes smoldering. "Wanna find out?"

"I–"

"I'm home!"

Suguru jerked back at the sound of Satoru's voice from the direction of the hallway, leaving him with no choice but to stand awkwardly against the adjacent sink.

"In here!" you called out, picking up your abandoned sandwich, taking a bite as you suppressed laughter at nearly being caught by your brother who appeared by the archway and leisurely entered the kitchen.

"You're here, too? Didn't know you were coming over," he said to Suguru. "Had dinner yet?"

Suguru furtively glanced at you. "Was about to."

You winked at him then hopped out of the counter, taking your sandwich with you, motioning to leave the kitchen.

"That's all you're gonna eat? Is Utahime telling you to lose weight or something?" Satoru asked, noticing your food.

"Nah, too lazy to whip anything up." You looked at Suguru, your gaze pregnant with meaning. "I'll be in my room. Don't bother me."

TAG LIST: @lilc77 @strxkbylightning @lavender-hvze @maya-maya-56 @kibananya @nerdisthenewcool @darkstarlight82 @lysaray @ti-mame @ri-sa20 @diogodxlot @sugurubabe @guacam011y @yeehawslap @luvvmae @s-j320 @ichorstainedskin @iaminyourfloors @tanchosanke @hellyyy06 @tacobellfreshavocado @mrs-monkey-d-luffy @iluv-ace @clxvrs

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PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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jasntodds · 16 hours

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Penance [3]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 10,943

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, some fluff, mentions of death, mentions of injuries, the case jason is working is a reference to red hood: lost days

Summary:❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞

It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right?

Right?

A/N: I'm so sorry for the late chapter!! I had family from out of town here that I haven't seen in like 15 years lol and then I was sick lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

You head home, the smile not leaving your face. Despite your thing for running, you've been doing better. You got better about it before Jason died. And you're choosing tonight, to not run from it. A part of you thought maybe you would because Jason deserves better. But your heart beats to the sound of his name. And there is nothing you’ll ever be able to do about it. He has ruined you for anyone else and you can’t even be mad because you only ever want him anyway. Even if that means friends. So, instead of running and punishing yourself tonight, you let the smile plaster itself over your face and you let your heart beat wildly while your stomach spins with butterflies.

Molly’s attention is pulled to the door as you lean against it, closing it.

“Hey.” Moly chimes. “How’d it go?” She asks, seeing the lazy smile across your face, gathering hope for her friends.

“Good.” You push off the door before you kick off your shoes. “Tim suspects nothing. I’m sure he will at some point and we’re gonna start tomorrow.” You explain, noticing the laptop open in front of Molly but seeing Goodreads open instead of anything of importance, immediately telling you Molly's been waiting for you.

“Oh, we’re?" Molly beams with a teasing grin. "So you guys talked?” Molly's eyes track you as you walk over to the sink.

“Yes.” You answer and the smile doesn't budge. “We train Tim tomorrow.” You state casually as you grab a small bag of Cheetos from the cabinet beside the sink.

Molly eyes you as you jump onto the counter, sitting to face Molly before opening your bag of Cheetos. You offer no other explanation. No part of Molly should even be surprised because of course, you aren't going to give her any detail unless she asks specific questions.

“You haven’t spoken to him in a month and a half. You’ve been asking about him at least every other day. And that’s it?”

You sway your feet, not quite letting your heels touch the cabinet below you as you shrug. “It’s kind of weird. I don’t know.” You shake your head before eating a Cheeto. “It was really nice to see him though.” Your voice is soft as you divert your eyes to the bag in your hands, a tender smile on your lips.

Molly's chest warms with your response. It's not that you've been miserable or even all too unhappy over the last month. It's just that it's very clear something is missing. It's clear that it's been hard for you and some of that is your own doing to yourself. Tonight, you seem calm, not as on edge as you usually are. Before tonight, it was as if you were just anticipating something horrible to happen at any second but now you're sitting peacefully on the counter, your face clear of any worry lines and your brows aren't tugged together in thought. It's a bit of a relief from where Molly is sitting.

“Are you done punishing yourself?” Molly asks.

You snap your attention back to Molly before you scoff. “What?”

“You’re punishing yourself for what happened." Molly states simply. You won't explain hardly anything about your own blame. Molly isn't sure if it's just the death of Jason or if it's the whole fallout after, maybe both. But, Molly does know you and she knows you've been punishing yourself, regardless on if you'll ever talk about it. "Are you done? Now that you got to talk to him. I told you, he’s doing okay.”

“You always said you’re worried.” You point a Cheeto at Molly, intentionally avoiding the question.

“There will never be a point in time I’m not worried about him. He's Jason. Red Hood, Robin, just Jason. He’s always up to something.” Molly states with a soft laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, he is.” You let out a sigh. “I just…I really didn’t think he wanted to talk.” You shrug your shoulders. “I didn’t want to intrude on his space and ruin something for him, ya know? I mean…he died and he was really getting help and trying to get better, I didn’t wanna call and ruin that for him.” You shake your head as you chew the inside of your cheek.

That is not the full reason but it is the reason you're willing to say. You know if you tell Molly everything, Molly will tell you that it’s ridiculous. She’ll say it’s been forgiven. She’ll tell Jason and Jason will feel guilty, probably. Jason will bring it up so it doesn’t eat you alive. It's not something you want at all right now. So, you stick with half the story.

“I get it.” Molly nods her head. “At least you guys are talking now.” Molly smiles softly. "I could have told you he wanted to talk though if that was all you needed to know."

"Did he say something?" You question almost a little too quickly, making Molly laugh.

"No." Molly shakes her head. "But he always asked about you. He was asking Gar, too." Molly explains simply as she watches your brows furrow. "He wouldn't have if he didn't want to talk. You two have got to learn how to communicate."

"You're talking to Gar?" You ask, bypassing the entire point of Molly's explanation.

"Yeah?" Molly questions easily but she takes a page from your book and offers no other explanation. "Don't change the subject."

You let out a chortle. "Pretty sure all of our problems would be solved if we communicated." You scrunch your nose before finishing off your Cheetos.

"Okay, so we're in agreement. So, tomorrow, you're gonna see him and tell him that you still think about him all the time and this time a part was a huge waste of time?" Molly gives you a cheeky grin.

You nod quickly before flipping her off with the raise of your brows, making Molly just laugh in response. “I’m gonna shower and head to bed though. I will update you when there is something to be updated on with the Jason front.”

“Thank you.” Molly beams with sarcasm.

Meanwhile, Jason is with Tim. Tim has a lot of questions, that’s for sure. You said he was insistent but Jason had no idea. Tim has been asking questions ever since you left and it’s not even annoying. He just wants to know things about Robin and Batman, being a vigilante, stuff about Jason. Jason finds it a bit funny because it's very reminiscent of his early days as Robin, filled with questions and hope. Tim wants to know about Red Hood but he avoids asking about his death. It’s mostly what he’s doing now and how it all works. He asks about his Robin days. Jason doesn’t talk a lot about them but he tries to offer something that isn’t bitter or sad or discouraging for Tim.

“Think I’ll find Venta?” Tim asks, changing up his line of questioning for a minute.

“Don’t know.” Jason shrugs before he takes a squig of his beer. “If y/n can’t figure it out with you, might not even be in the city.” Jason lies with ease.

“What do I do then?” Tim is desperate for this mission to go smoothly. It's his first time as Robin and he doesn't want to let Dick down.

“Go back to Metropolis.” Jason states.

“Yeah, I guess.” Tim lets out a defeated sigh.

If anyone knows what it's like to not want to disappoint someone like Dick, it's Jason. It's hard and he doesn't fault Dick for this plan. Jason will give it to him, it makes sense, it's a good idea. But, Tim isn't going to find Venta and Jason feels for him.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Jason changes the subject in hopes of taking Tim's mind off of Venta for at least a second.

“Uh, yeah.” Tim nods his head, shifting in his seat. “Bernard.” Tim's heart weighs heavy in his chest.

Jason nods once. “How long has he been in the coma?”

“A while.” Tim says sadly.

Jason watches Tim fiddling with his half-empty water bottle in front of him. All things considered, Jason thinks Tim is handling everything well, at least on the outside. Jason is certain if you were the one in the coma, Dick wouldn't get him to leave under any circumstance. He'd be fighting tooth and nail until you were out of the coma, even if that maybe would not be the smartest or best route.

Usually, Jason is really good at compartmentalizing, partially through training with Bruce and partially due to trauma. But, anytime it ever came to you, it got a little muddied. He could still be Robin, no problem but in a situation like Tim is in, Jason isn't so sure he'd be able to work anything else until he knew you were okay. Tim seems to be able to put his emotions, his anger and care for others, aside for what must be done. Dick still isn't always the best at it.

Jason thinks this might make Tim a better Robin.

“Hey, the Titans will figure out. Always do.” Jason assures him.

"Yeah." Tim lets out a sigh with a soft nod, hoping he's right. “Can I ask you something?”

“You’ve been asking me shit.” Jason quips back.

“How’d you do it?” Tim asks bluntly. “Y/n said she’s been hurt a lot. Doing this. How’d you deal with it?”

Being here is not as easy as Tim is making it seem. The excitement of this is definitely helping but Bernard is still in the back of his head. Every time Gar or Dick or Conner text him, he almost has a panic attack, terrified it'll be bad news about Bernard. He feels like he's not helping and if anyone should be helping his boyfriend, it should absolutely be him. But, Dick is the leader and he can't just go against him. Tim still needs to prove that he can be a good Robin. It's as if he's being torn in two and maybe Jason isn't the best person to ask given everything but Jason is at least very honest.

“Cuts and bruises are different than a coma." Jason states, unsure how else he's supposed to answer.

"You know what I mean, man." Tim almost groans with a plea.

Jason pauses for a few seconds, knowing he doesn't exactly have an answer. The person he should be asking is you because if you can get up and continue this after everything, anyone can. For Jason, it's always been that he has no choice. It's always been about survival, it's still about survival. He can't just sit around and hope for the best. Jason's never been sit around and wait person anyway. Something has to be done. Unfortunately for Tim, that's about all the advice Jason is going to be able to give him.

“Just do it.” Jason answers. “Moping about it isn’t going to help. You get up and do something.”

“I’m here.” Tim states.

“Because Dick needed you to do something. That’s still doing something, right?” Jason raises though he does understand Tim's argument.

“Yeah, but shouldn't I be there to help?” Tim asks. “This is great, ya know? On my own, being Robin! It’s like the coolest thing ever. But, why couldn't this wait?” Tim shakes his head with a soft scoff.

“I’m sure he’s got his reasons.” Jason assures him. "Look, man, Dick's doing what's best for you to be Robin and you know they're trying to figure it out. This is still helping." Jason tries to offer some reason to Tim before he gets to his feet. “Come on. I’ll show you your room.” Jason jerks his head towards the door. “Don’t sweat it, alright? Dick’s got it handled.” Jason states and it’s still a little weird having a little faith in Dick but given all of the events that happened, Dick hasn’t given Jason too hard of a time when they’ve talked.

Jason shows Tim to a room. It’s not much. A TV and a couch, that’s mostly it but it’ll do. Tim won’t be in Gotham long anyway. Jason fetches him a blanket and tells him he has free reign of the place, just don’t break anything and then he’s off to his own room.

He’s switched rooms since the last time you were here. The mattresses is sat up against the north wall but he has an ensuite bathroom. The door to the ensuite is a few feet from the mattress, the head of the mattress and the doorframe on the same wall. Two dressers stand on the wall opposite. He has a turn table and some vinyls. A bookshelf stands tall, loaded with books right next to the bedroom door. It is not much, especially compared to the Manor and the Tower but it’s his. And it’s the things he likes.

Jason heads for the shower, expecting to get it done and over with before trying to get some sleep. But, despite feeling fine all day, something starts feeling wrong. He thought he felt fine, all things considered, but as he tugs his hoodie and shirt over his head, his hands start to shake. They’re practically vibrating right off on his wrists and his heart starts to thunder in his chest. Something in his body feels wrong, like something is going to melt out of his ears. It gets harder to breathe and his head gets dizzy. There's a feeling like maybe his eyesight might start to go next while his hands grip the edge of the sink to stabilize himself. Every muscle in his legs starts to feel numb and weak while the shaking has moved up to his elbows. His arms feel like cinderblocks so he slams his eyes shut and tries to breathe.

He doesn’t know what this is. It doesn’t feel quite like a panic attack. Those always felt explosive. They are loud in comparison. But this? This feels quiet and it feels sharp, deafening. It creeps on him and then hits him in full force when he’s not looking. It always passes but it scares the shit out of him that this might not just be a bad panic attack. What if the Pit is calling him back? He hates the thought but he knows it has to, right? Because being alive doesn’t feel quite right either. Nothing feels quite right anymore.

The feeling starts to pass in a few minutes while Jason looks to the mirror. He hates that white streak. Dick didn’t even get it. Jason gets dunked in the Pit and Jason comes back a monster with a white streak of hair, feeling like he’s going to be ripped back to his own grave in a matter of time. Dick on the other hand seems fine and his hair is fucking normal. What the fuck is even up with that?

There aren’t any bruises decorating his face and he can’t help but think you might have been relieved. You always were. But, you don’t see the y scar staring back at him in the mirror or the red and black bruises over his torso from the other night. He is thankful for that. They hurt. Jason doesn’t waste much more time on it before he gets in the shower. He has to get up early, an appointment with Leslie and all.

By the time the next day rolls around, you pick up Tim from Jason's, Jason nowhere to be found. All you got was that he had left early and he said he'd be back later. Very Jason not to give out any form of detail. And maybe you're a little disappointed you missed him. But, you don't show it as you and Tim head off to Harbor, Tim hoping to find Venta while you're just playing along. Mostly, you want to see how he interrogates people, see if he's any good at it. Tim has never seemed the violent type but you're thinking him as Robin might surprise you since he's so dedicated to the cause.

So, the two of you go and you spend a few hours doing this. You take a backseat, watching as Tim tries to get answers. You give out pointers whenever he lets someone go because he's not the best at it. He's not bad but you feel like he can do better. He can figure out anything, he just needs to get better at threatening people even though you know these people are in fact innocent so you're not actually inciting violence this time. Innocent people don't need to get hurt just so Tim can learn how to be Robin.

After a few hours, you suggest you head back, clearly you aren't going to find anything out. And you're hungry. Tim reluctantly agrees, mostly because you suggested you visit his parents really quick, grab some food, and head back. So, you do, making casual conversations on the way.

By the time you get back, you find Jason in his own training room, the room you were in last night. He's at the monitors working on something but spins around in a chair once you and Tim walk in, Tim holding a take-out bag.

"Got you food." Tim states, digging in the bag for Jason's.

Jason's eyes dart to you as you take your mask off and offer him a soft smile. "I'm gonna change. Don't touch my food..." Your eyes narrow at Jason. "Jason."

"I don't eat your food." Jason snarks back as he takes the container from Tim.

"The fuck you do." You quip back before you spin on your heels, heading to the bathroom down the hall.

You change quickly, ready to just eat your lunch. You still go to Excellent Gotham a few times a week and you're still not bored of it. Once you're in your street clothes, you head back to the room to find the boys practically scarfing down their food with Jason still sat by the monitors and Tim at the small table.

"Where were you this morning?" You ask as you take a seat beside Tim.

"Busy." Jason answers, mouth full of food. "Something for Babs." Jason lies, keeping it casual.

It's not that he cares if you know he's going to see Leslie again or that he cares much if Tim knows. It's that he doesn't want to get into it. There's still a lot of work to be done and it's his work to be done so he keeps it close to his chest.

"Right." You nod your head, eying him carefully before you open your own take-out container.

"She's got you working something, right?" Jason asks, careful not to make it seem like he's brushing you off entirely.

"Yeah, seems like it's just the one guy running shit but there might be more to it." You explain as you eat.

"So you guys just work with the commissioner?" Tim asks as he looks between the two of them.

You and Jason glance between each other before you both shrug your shoulders.

"Kind of." You answer.

"Basically." Jason answers. "There's some shit the GCPD can't do because of red tape or legal reasons so she sends us."

"We have to make money somehow." Sam says sarcastically.

Tim shakes his head. "Do you ever get used to it? I mean this has been awesome over the past few weeks."

Jason looks down at his food. He would not say someone just gets used to it, not really. There is always some form of excitement that takes over when he puts a suit on and he goes out. There's always some form of excitement facing off with people who can kill him and who want to kill him. That part is slightly different now, he almost feels just the tint of anxiety. Death became a reality and he is not invincible but he goes out. It's still something he genuinely feels good about. It's different and there isn't this huge sense of pride with it anymore but he still likes it. It's not so much that someone just gets used to it.

"Not really." Jason answers softly.

You don't think you'll ever be used to it. It's a routine, sure. That part of the job you're used to but everything else? Not so much. You still absolutely love doing it but it's different than before. It almost felt somewhat of an obligation then, living with the Titans and then Batman and Robin. But now, it's entirely your choice. This is your choice to do this and that is cathartic in a way. You're taking control of your life but that doesn't mean you're used to going out and willingly putting yourself in front of gunfire and a bunch of people who want to kill you. You aren't used to the pain that comes with it. Maybe going out every night to protect people is something someone gets used to but possibly dying for other people with such violence is not. Losing people to this life is not.

"I don't think so." You answer honestly.

The three of you continue your meals, Tim finishing first. He's back on his feet as soon as he's done, rushing to throw away his takeout dish as Jason and you watch him. He's still got the suit on and he doesn't look like he's going to change. Something about it makes you think this is probably how Jason was when he first got the suit. He probably slept in it.

"I'm gonna go back out there." Tim declares to the room.

Jason looks to you and you look to Jason. Are either of you supposed to stop him? He looks pretty determined. Stopping him might seem suspicious. Stopping him might be worse off for his training.

"You think you'll find anything out?" Jason questions.

"I have to. It's my job." Tim states and that's when you know you should let him go alone.

"Call if you need anything. Keep your phone on and I'll have Molly track it in case you get into any trouble like you did last night." You offer a simple smile.

"Right...yeah okay, thanks." Tim gives you a sheepish smile before he darts right out of the room, the bo staff in hand.

"He's gonna get his ass kicked." Jason mutters.

"Definitely." You nod your head.

"Why'd you let him go then?" Jason nearly chortles as he takes another bite.

"Why didn't you stop him?" You chortle right back. Tim is also Jason's job. "He has a job to do and we'll never be able to train him in any of this if he actually thinks he can do it. I get Dick is building confidence or whatever but Tim's detective skills will only get him so far." You state.

"That's why I didn't stop him." Jason laughs with the shake of his head.

The room falls silent as you both continue your food. You text Molly letting her know about Tim and just to keep an ear out in case something hits the fan and you and Jason need to go help him. Tim is only supposed to be asking questions, he should be fine until he gets back so you aren't too worried and neither is Jason.

"Still the Shimmer case?" You ask as you toss your takeout away.

"Uh, yeah and another one." Jason states, turning back to the monitors, pulling up a few missing posters for kids.

"More missing kids?" You question as you take a seat beside him.

"Nope." Jason starts, shaking his head in annoyance. "We know where most of them are which is the problem." Jason huffs.

"Do I even want to know?" You ask cautiously with a grimace.

"They've got them spread out across the city but anytime anyone gets close, they move. I think it's someone in the department running it." Jason explains, glancing to you. "Made a whole fucking business of selling kids."

"Fucking gross." You grimace as you tug your sleeves over your hands. "Are they keeping them in Gotham though?"

"These ones." Jasn pulls up about ten posters as he gestures to the screen. "We haven't gotten a sighting or word about in about two weeks so I don't think so. But the others we've seen here and there or heard something. Babs wants me to be careful, track who I can until I find the one running it. Then let her take it from there." Jason lets out a bitter scoff, still hellbent on fighting Babs tooth and nail over this one.

"Right, but you're Jason Todd who doesn't do that. So what are you actually going to do about it?" You ask with hope Jason will take it into his own hands. Anyone who's willing to just sell kids for who knows what, shouldn't be able to get locked away and then let free to do it all over again in a different city.

"Scare him out into the open and then kill him. Selling fucking kids. No one gets to just go through the fucking justice system that'll let them out to do it all over again. Babs is gonna be pissed but I don't fucking care." Jason huffs, determination written over every line of his face.

"Good, fuck that guy." You scoff and you'd be lying if you didn't want in. "Need any help?" You ask, keeping your eyes on the screen to not seem too eager about offering help.

Jason laughs softly. "I thought you didn't team?" Jason quips, looking back at you with the raise of his brows. It's the same look he always gave you when he just wanted to watch you squirm, the question at hand not even being a real question.

Your heart starts to thunder in your chest again and maybe sitting so close to him was just your subconscious because you swear you didn't do it on purpose. It's the way he grins back at you just as he always did whenever he was trying to fuck with you. Before, before things got all messy and real, he'd scoot closer to you and wiggle his brows. But, he doesn't. He keeps his signature smirk as your eyes are locked on his. You forgot how much you love the color green.

"That wasn't a no and I thought you didn't team anymore." You quip back, leaning your elbow on the table, resting your head on your hand as your brows raise at him.

He'd always team with you if you asked.

"Could make an exception." Jason raises back.

"Aw, just for me?" You scrunch your nose at him.

"Could be fun." Jason teases as his heart erupts into pooling lava.

"Could be." You nod your head, chewing the inside of your cheek. "Loser."

Jason lets out a laugh. "Actually, yeah, I think you can help." Jason cuts it short pulling a mug shot of a woman you helped last week. "Know her right?"

"Yeah, she was one of the women I got out of the ring I'm working. She flipped." You state.

"Rumor has it, she was working with my guy first." Jason explains.

"Right, and he got bored as they do, recruit someone else." You state.

"Think you could talk to her?"Jason asks. "She'll know, at least, who he is, could fucking help."

"She wouldn't give us any names." You shrug before your brows furrow. "You said you guys think he's working for the department?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, she bypassed the whole system and clearance Babs set up. She's not in the program either. I checked. Babs said it was some sort of glitch or something but I don't think she believes it." You explain.

"Well, what about her friends? We can try to find her but until then, what about her friends?" Jason asks, knowing someone had to slip at some point. The more people involved, the harder it is to keep secrets. People love telling secrets.

"Yeah, yeah, uh...we have a few we're watching and one in our program. I can try." You offer with a simple nod.

"Thank you." Jason offers a subtle, closed-mouth smile.

"Of course, happy to help." You offer the same smile back.

The room falls silent between you while you watch Jason look over his monitors. He really has the whole setup now. Scans over the city, security system, alerts. It reminds you a little of the Batcave and Titans tower. You and Molly don't have quite the extensive system Jason does but it works for you. You're happy he's got it all laid out though. It makes her feel like he might be being a little safe out there, maybe taking a little extra caution for his life.

Jason glances at you and he wonders how this would be different if so much time hadn't passed, if things were different between you. He wonders if you'd be more of a team, working these missions together. He wonders if you'd be here with him or if you'd still live with Molly. Would you still take up a different part of the city? That actually would make more sense. Three vigilantes spread out can cover more ground but he thinks about it anyway. Would you be training together still? Would you meet up halfway through patrol for a quick snack by his favorite gargoyle or the roof near the wolf enclosure at the zoo? Too much time passed and he really wishes it wouldn't have.

It's for the best, he tells himself over and over to try and convince himself it is. He wants you so bad still that it is killing him but he can't let you down like he did before. That is not fair and he's worried he's not ready. And this is the second time you've spoken in a month and a half. That doesn't seem fair to even spring it on you. But you should know, right? Jason wonders if you should or maybe too much time has passed there, too. Maybe you think his feelings have changed with the lack of contact.

They haven't. They never could.

He just wants you to be happy even if it's not with him.

Jason clears his throat. "How have you been anyways?" Jason answers, trying to ease his own thoughts. "Molly and Gar said you're okay." Jason says softly and he says it on purpose, testing the waters.

Your brows pull together, watching as the corner of his mouth pulls up just slightly. The honesty of him asking your friends is new. "You asking about me, Jay?" The sarcasm isn't as strong as it normally is as if you're genuinely surprised he's being blunt about it but you aren't mad. Molly mentioned it last night but you didn't press, thinking it didn't mean much but with Jason stating it, it has to.

Jason shrugs. "I know you ask about me." Jason quips back grinning back at you, taking a shot in the dark with his assumption. If he's been asking, he's hoping you were, too.

Of course, you do but you want to know how he knows that. And then you remember. Jason Todd knows every single thing about you, inside and out. Even in his worst mental health days, somewhere deep inside his guarded heart, he knows you always loved him. Of course, you've asked about him. You have to. You don't want to live in a world where you don't check on him. It would be a dull and grey world and that's just not one you want to live in.

You suck your teeth, an uncontrollable smile coming to your face. "I always have to check on you." You say quietly, looking to the screens. Jason wants to combust. "I, uh, yeah, I've been okay." You pull in a breath, not letting your words linger in the air for too long. "Living with Molly is different but it's nice." You nod your head quickly. "How are you?"

"Good." Jason answers. "Yeah, it's uh, it's cool being away from Bruce and being able to do my own thing." Jason nods his head.

You tilt your head, narrowing your eyes. "Why are they worried about you then?" You question carefully.

"They're always worried, like you." Jason quips.

"Because you always give us reason to be worried." You widen your eyes at him.

"I don't fucking know, honestly. Think they just are." Jason clears his throat again, desperately wishing people didn't worry so much about him. It makes the guilt heavier. "After everything."

"Yeah, that's, uh, yeah, t-that makes sense." Your face falls as Jason watches the sadness rip itself across your features.

"What about you? They're worried about you, too." Jason nods his head up at you.

You pull in a breath. "Uh...yeah it's just...I don't know." You shake your head. "Same reason maybe and uh, just...being out there." You nod your head, omitting the parts about some nightmares and some reckless tendencies that were not there a few months ago.

"You sure you're alright?" Jason asks as his eyes narrow slightly as if he has some sort of sixth sense always telling when something's going on with you.

There's a single second where you almost bear it all to him. You almost tell him why you picked a fight last night and why you never called. You almost tell him why you patrol more than he does -- according to Molly. There's a part of you that almost wants to tell him because you would have before. But that was before, this is now. It's different now. He doesn't have to carry it for you anymore. It's not fair to him.

You nod. "Yeah, are you sure?" You point a finger to your head.

"Yeah, yeah, uh I've been seeing Leslie." Jason admits despite him wanting to keep it close to his chest. He can always tell when something is picking at you, he considers this an olive branch, an offering of acknowledgment that he's still here. He watches you take a breath, relief almost washing over your face. "It's helping a little." Jason nods his head. "Maybe you and Bruce were right about it." Jason lets out a soft chuckle.

"I'm usually right about most things." You smirk right back at him. "I'm glad you're going and that it's helping." You smile softly at him, genuinely relieved he decided to go back. "You look really good, Jay."

"So do you." Jason whispers softly.

The words "I miss you" choke through Jason's throat, shredding the flesh into pieces. They get stuck and seep into the open wounds, reabsorbing themselves right into his flesh as the blood drowns them from ever coming to the surface. Before, you always told each other you missed each other but something about the words now feel too weighted. There's too much emotion tied to them. There are too many feelings tugged onto every single letter. The words will never be simply platonic again because how can they be?

He misses the way your hand would run through his hair after he's had a nightmare. And the way you'd kiss his head lazily before you'd eventually fall asleep. He misses the way you'd tell him you love him as if it's the only words you'd ever known and how even when they were said lazily and with sleep still in your eyes, they all weighed the same. It always meant the same. He misses being able to tell you everything and being able to expose his worst parts to you without ever being judged. And how your hand fit perfectly in his and the way you'd warm up her hands with her powers before rubbing out the knots in his back. He misses how you'd kiss him and immediately start smiling as if it is the one thing that would make you happy even on your worst day.

He misses the way you were allowed to love each other.

You almost pick up your hand and run it through the white streak of hair just to mess with it. You almost do but catch yourself. Maybe if you were still friends who had talked over the last month, you would have but not now. You don't want to invade his personal space. Jason has always been a bit skittish. You remember some of the first times you stepped into his space, touched him in ways he didn't seem to expect. He'd freeze, his entire body would tense as if you were going to hurt him even if all you did was rest your hand on his cheek. Over time, he'd relax but you remember that and it breaks your heart. You wonder if he'd freeze like that again or if he'd relax eventually.

"So," You pull in a breath. "This is officially your new place?" You ask as you look around the room.

"Yeah," Jason chuckles, his eyes still locked on you. "Did ya want a tour?" Jason offers.

"Yeah, actually that'd be cool." You laugh softly as Jason stands up.

He shakes his head and then offers you his hand on purpose. "Come on." Jason jerks his head.

You look at his hand and then back his eyes. Your hand goes into his as you get up. He drives you crazy and maybe this isn't the cat-and-mouse game you always played but you offer it anyway, for old times' sake.

"Shithead." You mutter once you're to your feet and your hand is back at your side.

Jason laughs this soft laugh that feels the way the first 'I love you' does. "Babe." Jason says back, for old times' sake.

The two of you start the tour. It's not a house. It's an orphanage that closed down years ago. You find it a bit ironic this is one of the places he picked but you keep it quiet. So, Jason leads you around, showing you some of the rooms and explains some of the things he wants to do. He wants one of them to be a library because of course he does. Another room he wants to dedicate solely to a kitchen and another to a training room, weight room, monitor room like the Batcave. There's another one he wants just for a shooting range to keep it all contained. You swear he has it all figured out. And then you get to his bedroom, last on the tour because it was furthest away from where you started.

You nod your head, looking at the bookcase. "Makes sense." You point to it. "I'm glad you don't have to hide it." You nod your head at him with a soft smile, the scrapbook page you made him for his birthday does not go unnoticed on top of the bookshelf.

Jason looks to the floor, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, it's nice." Jason looks around with a subtle smile.

"I really like it, Jay." You say honestly. "Do you like it?"

Jason looks around some more feeling a sense of warmth and and pride in his chest. "Yeah, I do." Jason nods. "It's not the manor or anything."

"You always said the manor wasn't the real you anyway. This the real you?" You ask.

Jason pulls in a breath, his eyes still scanning around the room. He isn't sure if it's all him, really. It's hard to tell these days what's really him and what's leftover from his previous life. It's hard to tell if those two things can bleed into one or if the past him died with the crowbar. He likes to think this will be the real him. Better. But, you always knew him better than anyone, sometimes better than he knew himself.

"You tell me." Jason shrugs softly as his eyes land back on you.

"I think so." You give him a tender smile. "Simple, repurposing something left to rot. Making it into something good. I think it's very you. And I do not think it is a coincidence that there are empty rooms." You offer him a cheeky smirk with a soft laugh. "Expecting guests at some point."

Jason chuckles as his cheeks start to burn. "Shut the fuck up." Jason glances to the floor and then back to you before he gestures a hand out. "You planning on needing a place to stay?" Jason quips.

"If you're offering." You quip back and you watch him shift his weight to his right leg before rolling his shoulders.

Jason's heart skips a beat right into his throat. "What? Bored of Molly already?"

"Nah, just fun to fuck wit you, still." You tease him with a toothy grin.

"Right." Jason scoffs but a smile is on his face, maybe his heart sinks a little even if he knew it was a joke to begin with.

The room falls silent and something about this doesn't feel right. It's weird not living together with no thought of ever living together again. You've always been just fine on your own and you love living with Molly but it's always Jason you wish were there when you get home. Missing him has become routine but not in a way you ever get used to. Missing him is just there, all the time. It's exhausting missing him.

"Might have to take up the offer though when I get hurt." You clear your throat, tugging your sleeves down. Jason's brows furrow at you. "Molly fusses over it."

"You planning on getting hurt anytime soon?" Jason asks as concern washes over his face.

"No." You scoff. "I just mean...ya know?" You shrug your shoulders.

Molly isn't squeamish. She never has been, not from what you remember prior to your mom dying. But, you got hurt your first week living with Molly and it really wasn't anything. It was just a long cut, not too deep, won't even scar. But, Molly fussed over it and there was a lot of blood. You aren't too oblivious to know why Molly suddenly fusses over blood. You just can't tell Jason that, it's not fair to him.

"It's Molly, she worries." You brush it off.

Jason nods his head with understanding, sensing there's something more but he chooses not to dig. "You're always welcome to stay." Jason pulls in a soft breath with a subtle smile.

"Thanks, Jay." You give him a small and shy smile.

"Of course." Jason says softly and he decides to leave it there. "Wanna keep waiting for Tim? Check on him?"

"We should. If something happens, Dick will kill us." You laugh softly.

"Yeah, we aren't fighting for once, don't wanna get back there." Jason chuckles as the two of you head back to his current training room.

The two of you take your seats beside each other. You get a text from Molly letting you know everything with Tim seems okay from where she's sitting. So, the two of you wait on the monitors, figuring he'll be fine. Nothing too bad has been going down around Harbor anyway.

A few hours later, Tim comes back looking quite a bit defeated. He greets the two of you before he heads off to change. Jason and you actually feel bad for him. He has so much hope of getting this done when there isn't anything to get done. You both entirely understand why Dick sent him on a fake mission. It makes perfect sense and in a way, it's teaching him he is not perfect. He won't win all of them and he can ask for help. That's when you both realize that is likely Dck's real point. You both can step it up.

Tim walks back in a few minutes later still looking a little defeated. The case is in one hand and his bo staff is in the other. He puts the case down against the wall and takes a place on the mat in the middle of the room. You let out a soft laugh. Apparently, part of being a vigilante is needing to train in order to work out frustration.

"Follow my lead." Jason whispers to you right before he gets up and heads over to the fridge while Tim is moving his staff through the air and between his hands.

"I asked everybody down on Harbor about this guy, Venta. And nobody's heard of him." Tim states in frustration, watching as Jason grabs a beer from the fridge.

"Must be in deep cover." Jason states, popping the cap from the beer, the cap clanking on the floor. You get up from your seat, moving to lean against the table that sits off to the side but in between the boys. "Or dead." Jason suggests before taking a sip from the bottle. Tim offers a simple glare to him, not liking the answer as he continues with his Bo staff. "You like that thing?" Jason asks, closing some of the distance between the boys. "Can you actually use it?" Jason stops about two feet in front of Tim.

Tim holds the staff over his right shoulder, facing Jason. This is his chance. "Why don't we go a few rounds and I'll show you?" Tim asks, almost seeming confident in his ask.

Jason looks to the floor, eying his beer and then he looks to you, a smirk on his face. Jason knows without a second thought that this is going to be fun for him, not so much for Tim. He raises his brows quickly before taking another sip on his way over to the table to put the beer down.

"You're going to regret asking that." You quip and you'd be lying if you said you didn't admit his confidence, even if unwarranted.

"What?" Tim asks, trying to conceal his sudden concern.

"You'll see." You laugh softly, crossing your arms over your chest.

Jason walks back over, the boys locking eyes on each other the whole time. You can't tell if Tim asked because Jason was Robin and he thinks it'll be fun and cool. Or if he asked for some training and now is regretting it because Jason was Robin and now Red Hood and he knows this will only end in pain.

Jason nods up at Tim. "One round." Jason states.

Tim takes up the challenge, taking a step back as he points the end of the Bo staff as Jason's chest. There's a very small and subtle smile trying to make its way onto Tim's face. Jason gives it a few seconds before smacking the bo staff right out of Tim's hands, sending it to the ground. Tim lets out a breath with a sudden jolt, almost defeat and even a little embarrassment covers his face.

Jason grins more to himself than anything. "Maybe two rounds." Jason states before looking over to you. "You wanna try?"

You push off the table, switching places with Jason while Tim picks up his staff. "Cool?" You ask Tim.

Tim nods a few times, trying to hide his excitement of getting to train with the both of you. "Yeah, we're good."

Tim takes a step back and this time, he holds the staff closer to himself, his grip tighter. His feet are planted better on the ground but you know he doesn't stand a chance. Tim doesn't expect sparring to be mean. But you trained with Jason who would kick someone while they were down just to make sure they're prepared for everything.

The staff is pointed at you and then Tim pulls it to the side quickly, about to use it to smack you with it in order to make the first move to not make the same mistake as last time. But you grab the end of the staff before it can even come close and in a quick and fluid motion, you yank it right from his hands, flipping the staff in your hands and pointing it right at his head.

"Alright." Tim lets out a sigh as you hand the staff back over.

"You need some help." Jason states, walking back over to you and Tim. "You're never gonna get this Venta guy if you can't even last a few seconds between us."

"There hasn't been a lot of time to train." Tim almost groans with the shake of his head.

"Yeah, I heard." You nod your head. "Gar told me. Well, you're here." You shrug your shoulders.

"Been a while since I sparred with anyone." Jason looks between you and Tim, something menacing behind his eyes.

"What'd you say, Tim?" You ask with a taunting grin.

"Wait, really?" Tim asks as his eyes go wide. "You guys will help?"

"Well, I don't want you to get killed." You state.

"Yeah, we're not trying to watch you sign your death certificate while you're here."

"Yeah, yeah, thanks." Tim beams with a large smile.

"I'm gonna change real quick, warm him up." Jason nods at you before he walks to the door.

"You guys are gonna help me?" Tim asks. "This is really cool. Thank you."

"You're a dork." You state, watching Tim chew his cheek. "It was so cool being trained by Robin though." You gush.

"He's not gonna go easy on me, is he?" Tim asks as he nods his head, realizing who he just signed up to train with.

You let out a cackle. "Fuck no. Jason doesn't go easy on anyone." You let out a laugh as you sit on the floor and start stretching.

Tim joins you and starts stretching. "How is this going to work with your combat thing?" Tim asks.

"I try to ignore it. It's actually a little easier to ignore now, like sparring with people I trust."

"You can ignore it?" Tim's brows furrow at you. "How's that work?"

"Eh, kind of it. It's not really ignoring it as just pretending like it isn't there. It's kind of hard to explain. I just noticed, even back at the Tower, it just wasn't as strong training with everyone. I don't know." You shrug softly.

Jason comes back a few minutes later, going to the back room where there's a jukebox. While Jason gets some music going, you and Tim get to your feet. Tim grabs his bo staff, moving it around again as if he's preparing. You watch over your shoulder at Jason.

He's gained a bit more muscle over the last month and a half. The shirt he's wearing fits him well, cutting just below his waist. The sleeves hug his biceps that you swear are bigger and it's tighter around his chest. Your eyes trail down to his sweatpants. There's no difference there but there was something about Jason in sweatpants that you found to be the most attractive.

Jason turns back around, catching you staring. Heat runs over his cheeks as he smirks back at you. It's cheeky and arrogant, just as it always is. You roll your eyes, turning back around. Jason walks over to you and Tim gets ready.

"Okay, give me what you got." Tim says with confidence, swinging the bo staff around fluidly.

Jason doesn't even let him finish the sentence before he yanks the bo staff from Tim with almost no effort and then smacks Tim on the side of the head, making him fall to the ground. You burst out laughing as Tim looks up at Jason with surprise.

"You rely too much on your toys." Jason states sternly. Tim gets back to his feet, holding his head. "Okay." Jason says calmly and he's starting to feel in his element again. "On three, I'm gonna attack. You ready?" Jason asks.

Tim gets his stance ready, a little wobbly on his feet. "Ready."

"One." Jason says and then immediately goes to smack Tim again but this time Tim blocks his arm only for Jason to kick Tim in the back of the knee, sending him right back to the ground.

"What the fuck." Tim says, quickly getting back on his feet. "You said three!"

"Yeah! The Riddler's not gonna count." Jason strikes right back.

Tim looks to you for help. This is completely different than how he's been training with Conner and Gar. With Gar, they count off and spar, Gar definitely seems to go easy on him with TIm's lack of experience. And to be fair, a lot of the training with Conner is Tim just hitting him with no effect at all. But, Jason really isn't going to play fair. Tim's only hope is that you will.

"No one out there is going to tell you when they're going to attack. You just have to know." You state, not willing to help. "You're a Titan today and we're here but you're gonna be on your own. You're going to be helpless one day. Learn today never to be helpless." You nod your head, taking your turn with him.

The two of you get into your stances. You know you won't be nearly as ruthless as Jason. You only have a few days to get Tim in shape to fight a demon but that doesn't mean you and Jason both have to be completely ruthless the whole time. You'll cut Tim some slack. He can take it anyway. He'll be fine.

You go to take a single step forward, making Tim try to attack and block first. But, you never finish the step. Instead, it only makes Tim come closer to you which makes you grab his arm and spin the two of you around, pinning his arm behind his back. Tim lets out a yell and you let go, going back to your stance.

"Ow." Tim groans at you.

"You're fine. It'll feel better in a minute." You smile back at him. "Come at me."

Tim does as told, trying to land a hit to your head but you block him before he ever gets close and then you kick him in the knee, just hard enough to send him to the ground. You look to Jason. Oh, Tim needs help.

"You told me to come at you." Tim groans. "I thought you were just gonna block."

"Yeah, no." You laughs softly. "Not happening."

"Because the Riddler's not gonna block." Tim almost mocks Jason.

"None of them are going to just block." You correct him. "Your turn, Jay."

Jason takes over again while you grab a Gatorade from the fridge, pulling out one for the boys, too. Jason actually starts teaching now, showing Tim how to properly block and when. He shows him different ways and the best ways. Tim does know some of the blocks, he's just not used to them quite yet which is a relief.

Once Tim seems steady there, you switch with Jason and instead, you block Tim. You show Tim how you do it and how quick it is for you. The thought behind it is that you're not the only one with this. If Tim runs into someone with this power, he needs to know how he's supposed to land a hit. So, that's his job. Watch you, and learn how you block and find a weakness in order to hit. That's what Jason did. Tim only gets somewhat close a few times before Jason and you switch again.

This time, Jason starts teaching Tim how to make contact. Again, Dick has shown Tim some defense which is a help but he hasn't had much time to practice. So, the boys work on that for a few minutes before Jason shows him a few more things. After a few minutes, you switch with Jason. You and Tim go back and forth for a few minutes before Jason decides to up more. You only have a few days to get Tim ready. Now, it's two against one.

"Come on, me against you two?" Tim groans.

You and Jason look between each other and you both shrug as if sharing the same brain.

"No." You both say.

"We're all against each other." Jason answers casually.

"You have to watch what we're both doing not only against each other but when we come for you. No teams. Every man for himself." You state.

The three of you take your positions before Jason gives the go-ahead. The three of you lunge for each other. You hit Jason first, knowing Jason would likely go for Tim first. Is it going a little easy on Tim? Sure. But, you know going all out isn't going to help him, not right now. So, you kick the back of Jason's leg first, giving Tim the opportunity to get one hit to his head. Jason is quick to fight right back, knocking Tim in the face before he turns around, nearly kicking you before you jump out of the way and land a second hit to Tim's chest.

The three of you keep this up for the next half hour. You and Jason try to divide your time between each other and Tim, making sure he's getting plenty of chances to not only try to take you both down but also block the both of you. You're both being careful not to go too hard but make sure you aren't going too easy either. The more you all go, Tim gets tired but he never gives up. About halfway through, Tim gets into his own rhythm, able to block more of you and Jason. He lands a hit to you once while you hit Jason and he hands just a handful of hits to Jason. It builds his confidence anytime he lands anything and blocks one of you.

After a half hour of sparring, the three of you take seats on the floor, bottles of Gatorade right beside all of you as your chests heave. Jason's eyes land on you with your messy hair and the bruise of your eye fading. You have the Gatorade to your lips and he sees the silver chain peaking out from the collar of your t-shirt. There's a bruise on your right bicep, that's more recent but it's not bad. And he watches as you smile and then laugh at Tim as Tim lays back, complaining that he might be dying. There's been something about your smile and your laugh that could make Jason smile even on his worst days. Maybe you are doing better. He really hopes you are. You look so happy.

You get up, Jason unable to peel his eyes away from you. He always loved the way you looked in sweatpants. You have on black joggers that hug your thighs just a little bit and pinch right at your ankles. Your t-shirt is shorter, cutting right at your waist and Jason can't stop staring. He swears you're fucking stunning.

You grab all of you a few of Jason's granola bars and when you turn around, Jason is staring at you. So, you look at the granola bars and then at Jason before you throw one right at his head. It bonks him, causing Tim to burst out into a fit of laughter.

"Something about needing to block or something?" Tim quips, barely finishing his sentence before you and Jason throw a granola bar at him. Tim flails trying to block them unsuccessfully.

You grab a few more before you take your seat back beside Jason, giving him a few granola bars, keeping some for yourself while Tim snacks on the ones the two of you threw at him. It's nice being able to get a little bit of a break. Jason is actually really enjoying this. It feels like old times and he's actually helping. Dick is trusting him to work with you and help make sure Tim is prepared to fight this big bad. That's a big compliment as far as Jason is concerned. And Tim seems to be enjoying himself even if you both are going hard on him. Jason always liked helping train the others and this is throwing him right back but in a good way where he's not bitter about it. He's just glad to help. He feels needed.

And it doesn't hurt that you're here and you're getting along. It feels different than it did before. But, it's really nice. You're both still laughing and you still think the same way. You're still on the same page with everything. It's just nice to be able to spend some time with you and check in on you. Jason has missed you more than words could ever describe and he wonders if you'll be able to keep this going once Tim leaves. He really hopes you can. And he watches you toss another bar at Tim with a smile and he decides, he will try. He'll try to keep this up after Tim leaves.

Just because Tim will leave, doesn't mean you and Jason have to go back to not talking. The not talking was the hard part but now that you are, it feels easy again. It feels like you don't have to give each other space the size of half the damn city. You can do this without having to sacrifice having each other in your lives. Jason decides as he watches you laugh, he's going to keep trying to have you in his life and he hopes you'll have him, too.

The three of them spar for another half hour before Jason teaches Tim more about his staff. Dick was the one who liked the bo staff and Jason wasn't much to rely on it but Bruce made him learn. Jason always thought it was because of Dick but he's realizing it was just preparation to be able to use anything and everything as a weapon just in case. So, you sit back and watch the two of them go back and forth.

Once they're done, Jason sends Tim off to shower first. Jason plops down in the chair beside you as you give him a soft laugh. He's been thinking through this whole training session that maybe you both can step up your game. Tim is going to need to experience based on what Jason has heard about Brother Blood.

"So," Jason clears his throat. "Penguin has a shipment of guns coming in tomorrow night." Jason states.

Your eyes narrow slightly, knowing Jason has an idea of some sort. "Does he?"

Jason nods his head as casually as he can. "Shouldn't be too hard. In and out kind of thing. Grab and leave."

"Uh, huh." You nod, turning to face him with a teasing grin. "Where ya going with this, Jay?"

"Could take Tim." Jason offers, casually before a smirk crosses over his lips as he crosses his arms. His eyes lock on yours. "Wanna?"

"You want us to take Tim on a mission to steal Penguin's guns?" You ask but you think it's a great idea. What better training than an actual mission of some sort?

"Good training. We can watch him and he can watch us. See how it's really done. Especially if he's going to be Robin." Jason offers with ease but he's thinking he really doesn't need to convince you.

A crooked smile creeps on your face. "You know I'd never turn down an opportunity like this." You laugh softly.

"Yeah?" Jason asks, hope in his voice.

"Hell yeah. It'll be fun anyway. I helped you and Bruce with Penguin a couple of times and like once it got a bit dicey. We'll be fine." You beam at him. "I miss fucking with Penguin."

"You would." Jason tilts his head back with a booming laugh and the void in his chest starts to not feel as hollow.

Your smile turns soft and warm with his laugh. You remember back at the tower and how he was treated. There was a lot going on that was bigger than him, bigger than you. But, you think about that and the general disdain everyone had for him at the time and you're watching him laugh now. You always wondered how anyone could feel anything but love for him. How could someone not be completely in love with him? Because you're sitting here feeling just as you always did around him.

You read once that studies suggest it takes three to six months to get over someone, which sounds a little miserable. It has not been even three months but it's been a month and a half and it feels like nothing even wavered in your feelings for him. You're just as in love with him today as you were sitting on the floor of the training room in San Fransisco and maybe that doesn't have to be a bad thing.

"You're having fun, aren't you?" You ask.

Jason grins back over at you. "It's not horrible."

"Uh-huh." You laugh as you shake your head. "Well, you look like you're having a good time." You shrug your shoulders at him as you chew the inside of your cheek. "And thanks to you, Tim will be great."

"Stroking my ego?" Jason quips back. "You get hit in the head too hard?"

"Shut up." You groan as you give him a gentle shove.

"Thank you." Jason laughs softly. "He'll be great because of you, too though, ya know?" Jason questions.

"Awww, now look who's being nice." You tease with the scrunch of your nose.

"I can be nice." Jason smirks right back at you.

"Yeah..." You let out a soft sigh. "You have your moments." You laugh softly as you check your phone. "Hey, uh.." Your brows furrow. "If we were done for the day, I was gonna head out." You pull in a breath, not really wanting to leave quite yet. "There are some people I wanna check up on before patrol tonight." You explain.

"Yeah, of course." Jason feels the disappointment cloud his chest. "I'll, uh, I'll call you if something goes down and text you the time." Jason nods, careful to let his disappointment show.

"Okay." You smile softly, ready to get the rest of the day over with so you can see him tomorrow. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jay."

"See you tomorrow." Jason smiles softly before you leave the room, allowing Jason to himself for the night.

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