#tall woman with a gun save me

[timmydraker]

During a patrol in Gotham one night, Red Robin comes across a strange sight.

A young woman stands over a crumpled body with a sling shot primed and ready, aimed a man with a rather large hand gun. It’s clear she’s protecting the woman who looks like she’s been hit over the head and had her bag nabbed, as it’s ripped and contents are spilled everywhere.

The girl sits shaking, she isn’t scared at all, standing strong with a shard of glass aimed at the man’s crotch.

Tim jumps down and disarms the man smoothly before turning to the young girl, who upon closer inspection seems to be around thirteen years old.

“Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head and stares at him for a moment with awe in his eyes before her eyes widen and she turns to the person behind her, “But she is! That guy was cornering her and I tried to help but he hit her and-“

“Alright, I understand. Would you like to help me get her to the ER a few blocks away?”

The girl nods with a determination Tim remembers seeing in Dick and Jason in their Robin days and he smiles.

He doesn’t ask her what her name is because side he knows he’ll follow up and find something to feel guilty about, but the girl seems to have her own plans.

She shows up a couple of days later, standing on a tall building with a cheap Robin outfit on.

Tim is confused before he drops down and she gives a big grin and mock salute, “How can I help?”

Tim smiled a little before shaking his head, “Taking the title of Robin, are you?”

She nods, now more bashful, “Well, I want to help people. I don’t want to fight exactly, but… well, sometimes you bats are too busy with the villains to notice the little guy and- bro to say you’re a bad hero-“

“You’re right, it’s okay. We can only do so much and sometimes preventing more damage being done saves more lives, but there will always be a cost.”

She smiles, bright orange, and impressively curly, hair getting in her eyes and sticking to the poor quality glue of her fake domino.

“I want to help. I… can help, please.”

Tim answers after a solid minute of silence, “What is your name?”

She frowns, “Aren’t I supposed to have a secret identity?”

He smiles in answer, “Yes, but I know what you look like and I can find out, I’m asking out of politeness.”

The girl looks like she could pout and Tim feels strangely old at the sight, even if he’s still got a few months before he can even legally drink.

“Carrie. Caroline to be specific.”

Tim smiles, “Well, Carrie, here’s the deal. I will meet you here or somewhere like here every night and until, and only until, you can land a hit on me will I agree to let you help.”

While Carrie doesn’t look pleased she nods, a clear sense of hope in her eyes even as she looks nervous.

She looses the first fight, and the second and third and fourth, but she gets better and better.

Tim doesn’t tell anyone about Carrie Kelly, nor does he tell her that he does end up doing a back ground check and finds two dead beat parents more focused on weed than their incredibly skilled daughter.

When she proves to be relentless in her desire to save lives he sends her to a teacher to help her stay hidden and safe. He’s not like Bruce, he doesn’t send her overseas to some dangerous people, but close by and to someone he trust to not hurt her nor tell anyone else about the strange young girl whose managed to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Selina Kyle is more than happy to take in the girl when she watches her sling shot fire crackers at muggers.

When Carrie comes back and meets Tim on a rooftop, she not only manages to hit him but knocks him off his feet.

Tim grins at her, pride filling his mind and making him understand Bruce just a little more.

But unlike Bruce, he isn’t throwing her into the fight at all.

Tim Drake is the one who pays for her school pills while her yippie parents refuse to work or spend money on her, and sends her real time footage of medical lectures in various collages across the country.

Carrie doesn’t become Robin, nor did she even wear that suit after the second night and he gave her a basic training outfit that properly covered her eyes and hair, but she does become something else.

She becomes Cardinal, the vigilante that swoops in to save civilians and provide the medical care that saves hundreds of people and allows the ambulances and hospitals to have a chance.

When she makes her debut the other bats worry about a new kid making bad choices, probably inspired by them, but Tim ignores it if only because he’s actually proud of her and trust her in a way he hasn’t trusted teammates in years.

After a year of this, a young girl asks for a meeting with Mister Tim Drake at his company and, purely so he wouldn’t have to do more pointless numbers, he lets her in after she passes the security check.

The girl who comes into his office is barely ten, cute little clips in her dark bob hair and a big book bag almost half her size behind her.

Tim recognised her instantly once he sees the bright yellow shoes she’s wearing.

This little girl, name Mia Mizoguchi, has been stalking him and Carrie for a few months now.

After he enrolled Carrie at Gotham Academy, the young girl nicknamed ‘Maps’ had been asking Carrie a lot of questions. Carrie had been good at avoiding incriminating answers, but had fallen for the younger girls clever trap as she casually spoke out infomation that could help with cases and Carrie delivered it back to Tim.

As soon as he realised that Maps had done exactly what he had done and figured out who Carrie was he was impressed. Because even if Carrie was new to the game, she had a skill for tricking people into looking away from her and had done well to stay low.

Maps had made the connection back to Tim, apparently.

Luckily, unlike Bruce, he wasn’t ignorant to their little stalker and actually knew her family from a few galas and charities. To be fair, Tim also wasn’t clouded by grief, but as he lets the girl explain how she totally doesn’t know who Red Robin is but if she did know who he was she would want him to know that a new drug trade route was actually being covered by a cotton candy company and she has over sixty pages worth of proof.

When he shows up to The Nest (named by Carrie) with Maps behind him, he finds Cardinal waiting with an excited gleam in her eyes.

Due to her being so young, Tim doesn’t allow Maps to go into the field until she’s the same age as both he and Carrie were, but she’s quick to show her worth taking over coms and doing an insanely detailed level of detective work that Tim can’t help but be a little jealous of.

Just like Carrie, who has been trying with Selina about only becoming Catgirl if Catwoman stops being a criminal for a few weeks now, he sends her to someone else for mentor ship.

Maps is a sweet girl, but she loves to talk and has a lot of friends who have most of the same interest, so he sends her to the one bat member he trust most.

Cassandra Cain immediately tells Tim that he has to adopt both of them and can’t quite understand why them both having living parents matters.

It’s Cass who gives Maps her vigilante name, Sparrow.

[wondersinwaynemanor]

imagine some Gothamites pretending to be in trouble or hurt and calling for a specific bat just because they have a crush on them, but the batkids purposely mess it up by sending another bat.

they also do this because they're little shits.

[i told myself i won't make this too long, but oh well]

scenario 1:

a woman, who's not even in trouble, she mostly wants to see Nightwing's new suit because.. oh.. the new suit causes his behind to form well.

Woman: Nightwing, Nightwing! Where are you? I need help.

Robin! Tim, hops down from the tall building and mind you, his skateboard tucked under his arm: Hi, Ma'am! Sorry, Nightwing is unavailable tonight. I, Robin, will help you.

Woman, judges the skateboard before looking at Tim: Uh. Thank you, Robin, but I was specifically asking for Nightwing. Is he- he around?

Robin! Tim, cheeks red from the cold, shakes his head: No, Ma'am. Sorry.

Woman: That's... That's okay. I'll figure out my problem on my own. Thank you again, kid.

Robin! Tim nods at her way before climbing back up the building.

Nightwing appears from the darkness, laughing his ass off. Tim joins his older brother until their stomach ache from the laughing session.

--

scenerio 2:

young teenage girl with pink highlights on her hair bikes through the neighborhood and out of nowhere, just falls down on the side of the road, on the grass. but gently. purposely.

Teenager, holds her ankle: Ow, ow. Is The-The Signal around? I kind of.. Uh... Fell.

Robin, comes out from the trees and he looks even brighter than ever with the sun still out: That was kind of careless of you.

Teenager, a bit annoyed: Robin? Don't you only patrol at night? Where's The Signal?

Robin, adjusts his katana and shrugs: You'd be surprised that I happen to do this at morning too. Well. Occasionally.

Teenager, skeptical: Uhuh.

Robin just stares at her, not even answering about The Signal. it makes the teenager a bit uncomfortable.

Teenager, manages to stand: Anyways... I think I feel better now. I'll head home.

Robin, lips twitching to a smirk: Stay safe.

behind the trees, Duke and Tim giggle like little children.

Robin: I must admit.. That was quite hilarious.

--

scenario 3:

two loud men exit the bar. they've been talking about Spoiler and Black Bat inside, fangirling like teenagers about their crushes.

little did they know, Red Hood was inside that bar as well.

Man 1: Fuck, I'm too drunk. Is Spoiler there? I need help to go home.

they are not even drunk.

Man 2, hides a smile behind his hand: How about Black Bat? We poor men need some saving.

before they can even lift their mouths to laugh, Red Hood apprears from the alley, gun on his hand.

Red Hood, voice so deep from the helmet: Need a lift, boys? There's enough room for both of you on my bike.

Man 1 gulps and Man 2 nearly passes out.

Red Hood, smirks: Not the person you wanted to see, huh?

Man 1: Uh.... You are a sight to see, Red Hood. Uh, Sir.

Man 2: But no, tha-thank you.

Man 1: We can manage. Right, dude?

Man 2: Right. Of course.

Red Hood, wants to laugh so bad but he has to keep this persona first: Well, let me know if you need anything.

both men run to the other direction. one of them even trips.

Red Hood hears Steph and Cass' lively laughs through the comms.

--

scenario 4:

a young adult man steps outside his building, doesn't mind the drizzle from the Gotham sky.

Man: Shit. I forgot my keys.

Man, looks up at the building: Is Red Robin out there? I need help in finding the keys to my apartment.

there's no sign of the vigilante so the man decides to just re enter his building.

out of nowhere, a sound of someone landing behind him makes him turn around and he is faced with Black Bat, holding his keys around her gloved hand.

Man, shocked: Um.. Hey. You found- you found my keys.

Black Bat doesn't respond, just lifts the keys higher.

Man: Tha-thank you.

Black Bat nods before grappling to the darkness.

the young man feels stupid for doing what he did, which is throw his keys behind the dumpster. and he didn't even get to see Red Robin.

somewhere, Black Bat joins Spoiler and Red Robin on top of a building to share some laughs and enjoy some Batburgers.

--

scenario 5:

a couple of bestfriends, woman and man, stop by at the side of the road. they were gossiping about Red Hood's arms, modulated voice and height, saying how sexy he looks.

out of stupidity, the man stabs his switchblade on one of the wheels of his car.

Woman, nods at him before calling for help: Someone help us! We don't have a spare tire.

Man, heart beating so fast: Red Hood, can you please help us? Red Hood!

after a few minutes of longing, Nightwing, Spoiler and The Signal appear from behind their car, startling the two of them.

Nightwing, grins cheekily: Good evening.

Signal, smiles: You called for help?

Spoiler, huge smile on her face with a spare tire on her hand: Glad we saw this lying around.

it's actually a spare tire at the back of the man's car.

the woman and man exchange glances, slightly nervous.

Man, touches his chest: Oh, thank goodness.

Woman, pretends to be in relief as well: Thank God for you, guys. We appreciate it.

Signal and Spoiler help each other in putting the tire.

Nightwing, grin hasn't faded: Sorry, the Red Hood is a bit busy tonight.

Signal: Maybe try calling out for him some other time?

Spoiler: We would give his number to you, but he's kind of a private person.

both the woman and man blush, embarassment creeping on them.

by the alley, Red Hood watches the rest of the batkids, a low chuckle on his lips.

--

a bonus:

a bunch of teenagers play around under the rain, splashing mud on their clothes. one of the blonde girls call out, "Robin, come play with us!" then the rest of her playmates giggle at that. they idolize the young hero.

and who comes out of the darkness? the rest of the batkids except for Robin. they make sure that the children are able to go home and are safe.

meanwhile, Damian is at the Manor with a stuffy nose as he is sick due to playing with his pets under the rain last weekend.

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 1- Mafia! Miguel O'Hara

        In this Universe, it was not just the villains' you had to be afraid of. In every corner of the city of Nueva York, there were members of the mafia. The amount of families that ran different parts of this city were starting to make one lose count. No matter how safe you felt, you weren't. Everyone, including you, knew better than to mess with anyone. It was best to keep your head down and mind your own business. At least you wanted to.

        It was just another ordinary work day for you. The alarm clock was put on snooze more times than you could count, and now you were running late. Hurrying down the street with a poorly prepared sandwich in hand, you begged to make it in time for work. It was a miracle that the clothes you wore even matched properly. Honestly, preparing the night before always sounded like a great idea. It was just a shame you were too tired to do so.

        Right as the signal changed to walk, gunshots were heard. Everybody ran the opposite direction, knowing better than to get anywhere near. Everyone, except you. Your lateness was going to get you either fired or killed. As of right now, being killed sounded better than being fired. At least it did in your mind before you actually ran towards your job in the mist of another gang war. The tears in your sandwich were going to be a grim reminder to wake up earlier tomorrow-if you lived till then.

----------

        Miguel sat in his vehicle, watching his men go at it with the members of the Vulture clan. He had warned them several times to do this inside, but what point was there to talk with idiots? Needing some fresh air, Miguel stepped out of his car. How much longer until the other side gives up? Wanting to reach for his own gun, Miguel heard the cries of a woman. It was an all too familiar sound. He knew of the effect he had on them.

"Oh?" A slight smirk formed against his lips as he watched you run through the middle of a warzone, "Qué idiota. (What a dumbass)" He muttered under his breathe.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I won't be late next time! I'm sorry!" You cried repeatedly as you fell on the ground, holding your head.

        Miguel found you entertaining. He drew his gun and proceeded to make his way over to your trembling body. Luckily, he only had to fire a few times before his foot was near your (h/l) (h/c) hair. With ease, he grabbed your arm and lifted you towards him. Like instinct, you grabbed onto him, apologizing like there was no tomorrow. A smug grin formed against his lips.

"Parece que me encontré con un perro callejero. No puedo dejar a una cosita tan bonita como tú aquí sola. (Looks like I found me a stray. Can't leave a pretty little thing like you out here alone)" He said lowly. Finally, you raised your head,

"I-I'm so sorry. I was just late for work and...and...You have a gun." Your words kept stuttered as your brain finally started to connect the dots, "I swear I didn't see anything! I'm just passing through! I'm so sorry!"

"What's your name?" Miguel asked as he led you to his car.

"(Y/N)" You replied, watching his every move.

        You were terrified. You had almost died and were saved by a mafia member. Now your life was in his large hands. His beautiful red orbs felt like they were staring into your soul. There wasn't even a speck of dust on this man's clothes. He was so tall and seemed to be on another level than the other guys. Perhaps owing your life to him was not so bad after all. He was handsome and honestly, if he asked you to do something, you probably would.

"Te haré un buen uso si te gusta lo que ves. (I'll make good use of you if you like what you see.)" Miguel's smirk only widen. It took you a minute to slap your flustered cheeks and get your head out of the gutter,

"Huh? I'm sorry, I don't understand Spanish." You politely told him, not wanting to anger the man with a gun. Miguel motioned you aside before entering the car as well,

"I asked where you worked. I'll take you there."

"Are you sure? I'm already being a burden to you."

"You'll be paying me back of course," Miguel's eyes pierced yours, "Just do what I say and we'll be even."

-----------------

"Ugh, Qué descuidado. Nunca has estado con un hombre, ¿verdad? (How sloppy. You've never been with a man, have you?)" Miguel hissed as you sucked on his large cock.

        His hand held your head, guiding you down his shaft. Tears threaten to spill as you felt his tip hit the back of your throat. He was far too long and you had no experience doing something like this. Stroking your hands against his cock, you tried your best to please him. He did save your life after all. Swirling your tongue against his tip, you felt him twitch. He hand returned to your head and started to move you on his own. It hurt as he fucked your mouth, but it made you feel hot.

"Swallow." Miguel commanded as he shoved his cock deep into your mouth. It burned and hurt your jaw, but you did as he said, "Good girl."

        You let out a cough, trying to hold your composure. Miguel lifted you up and placed you on his lap. He slid your underwear to the side, sliding a finger inside your wet hole. Moans escaped your throat as you held onto his shoulders. His thick fingers stretched you out better than your own toys. It felt good. With a sudden curl, Miguel had you putty in his arms. Your moans were getting louder as your felt your climax approaching.

"Que guarra. A punto de correrme solo con mi dedo. (How slutty. About to cum with just my finger.)"

        If only you knew what he was saying. It turned you on more just thinking about the naughty things he was calling you. This sexy stranger who saved your life was now about to fuck you in his car. You should be regretting this, but your better judgement was telling you otherwise. Feeling Miguel remove his finger made you mewl in protest. His placed his fingers' in your mouth as he lowered your waist.

        Your eyes widen as you felt him slowly enter your throbbing hole. It was hurting. Your small hands gripped onto Miguel, trembling from the feeling of being stretched out. Instead of slowing down, Miguel held your waist and slammed you down on his cock. Your back arched as you let out a cry from your orgasm. He was so deep inside you. Your body felt so full that it made your brain all fuzzy. This was something knew that you weren't sure if you wanted to stop.

"Already? We still have 20 minutes until we arrive at your work. Don't give up on me now," Miguel told you as he thrusted his hips up.

        Another cry escaped your throat as you felt his tip hit your cervix. Miguel was enjoyed this by the lick of his lips. He demanded that you started moving. That hungry look in his eyes every time you bounced on his cock. You felt like you couldn't get enough. Your legs were shaking as each thrust made your stomach turn. Sloppy moans and cries were all you can come up with as his cock bullied your cunt. This man was going to destroy you. Feeling his hands grip your hips was a sign.

"I'll take over now," Miguel's smirk never faded, "Voy a hacerte mi juguete personal, cariño. No tendrás que preocuparte por llegar tarde al trabajo si tu trabajo es mi polla dentro de ti. (I'm going to make you my personal toy, sweetheart. You won't need to worry about being late to work if your job is my cock inside you.)" He whispered in your ear.

        Whatever he said made your body shiver in delight. Miguel moved you against the car seat, slamming his hips into yours. He held your waist up, enjoying the view. Your lewd expressions were one of a kind. The way your boobs bounced with every thrust and how your body twitched when he pounded you were delightful. He could soak in every fiber of your being. You were his new favorite. Feeling your hole suck him made his smirk widen more.

        He moved your legs above his shoulders, enjoying your cried of pleasure as he ventured further inside you. His cock twitched as he neared his orgasm, wanting you to reach yours first. He leaned down to take a nipple in his mouth while his thumb rubbed your clit. His ears perked up as you called his name out. Your body arched once more as he cam on his dick. Miguel chuckled as he picked up his pace. He groaned lowly, shoving himself as far back as he could, coating your walls white.

"M-Miguel....That...was amazing," You barely breathed out. Miguel fixed his hair before reaching for your cheek,

"We're not done yet. We still have 17 minutes until you reach your job...If you decide to work there anymore when I'm done with you." He chuckled darkly, thrusting his hips into once more. You let out a cry, gripping onto the car seat,

"B-But I have...to ah...w-work for...ah~" Your words fell on deaf ears. Miguel was going to fuck the idea of work out of your brain,

"You got saved by me. Whether you like it or not, you're going to be mine now."

"M-Mig-"

"Not everyone gets a chance to be the leader's pet. Enjoy my cock inside you because I'm not letting you go."

        Only a whimper could escape your lips as Miguel kept bullying his cock inside you. Your legs started to grow numb. All you could feel is Miguel. 

------------

"Everyone is dismissed." Miguel spat as he finished his meeting, "Lyla, make sure Peter gets informed on what we discussed. Make sure he gets here on time next time."

"Yes, sir." Lyla said with a chip.

        Once everyone was gone and the door was shut, Miguel moved back slightly. A smirk formed against his lips as he looked down at you. You had been under his desk during the whole meeting, sucking and playing with his cock. Miguel reached out to stroke your hair, enjoying you nuzzle your head into his hand.

"You've gotten better, cariño. How naughty of you to try and distract me while working." He said with a grin. You climbed onto his lip, bringing him in for a kiss,

"At least I was early," You said with a soft whine. Miguel agreed before filling you with his dick, "Mhpm, I-I was going to...hah...ask...if we can, ah, g-go for d-dinner." You whimpered, trembling at his brutal pace. 

"¿Cena? Estoy a punto de llenarte aquí y ahora. (Dinner? I'm about to fill you up right here and now.)" 

"M-Miguel..." You moaned, holding onto him as you felt your high approaching.

        Miguel licked his lips as he watched you melt under his touch. You had been by his side for almost a year now. The family was hesitant to welcome you, but quickly did once they saw how much Miguel enjoyed your company. Needless to say, you never had to worry about being late for work again. Your job was to keep Miguel satisficed, which was a simple task since you lived with him. From dawn to dusk, Miguel used your body to fuel his lust. He liked you far more than anyone before and that was not going to change anytime soon. You belonged to Miguel now and forever.

"Say it again for me." Miguel demanded as he laid you against his desk. You cried softly as he pounded your poor pussy,

"T-Thank you for saving me,"

"Una vez más. (One more time.)"

"A-Ah~ T-Thank y-you for saving me~"

"Good girl."

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Not exactly a meet cute between Jazz and Jason.

Jason's had a long night of beating the shit out of a gang that dared to sell in his territory, the last thing he needs is the Bats on his tail. He can always sense them when he leaves Crime Alley- they watch for him. Waiting for him to fail. It pisses him off.

So Jason shakes his tail, he's pretty sure it's the demon brat, parks his bike, removes his helm and heads into the loudest bar he can find, ditching his mask along the way. There are no camera's and there was no one watching, so Jason just looks like any other angry frat guy at the bar. Well, he supposes that the Leather jacket might be a stand out.

He grabs a drink, and looks at the time. Jason just needs to wait out the chance that a baby bird saw his bike and hope that curfew kicks in before this has to be a 'conversation'. Besides, the music is good and despite all the people, the crowd is pretty behaved.

"Hi! I'm so glad you're here!" A woman approaches, he can tell she's had a few drinks from her walk but her eyes scream sobriety and fear. She's tall in her flats, her hair looks disheveled (from dancing maybe) and her outfit screams 'this is the one fun black top I own'. She's beautiful and her approaching him might've been a wet teenage dream if his suspicions weren't immediately raised.

"I certainly am here." Jason replies, a smirk set into his features easily and as he straightens out his back he can see the three men watching the back of her head like predators. They're wearing super lame white hoodies and coats, like they're organized somehow.

"That's why you're my hero! Always ready to grab me at a moment's notice! Any chance you'll be good to leave after you finish that drink?" Her eyes are pleading but she keeps the same happy smile and joyful tone the whole time.

"Nah, no worries about the drink. It was cheap and I was just getting bored with it anyway. " Jason explains, setting his glass down on the counter. He's mentally photographed the three creeps, "Did any of your friends also need a ride home?"

"Nope! They all got in an uber... without me. So they'll be just fine!" She explains and there is an anger in her eyes that clearly meant she was telling the truth. Her hands are straightening out his jacket collar, making it look like they're more comfortable with each other than just strangers. She lays her hands flat on his chest once her task is completed and Jason feels his throat go dry.

"I'm always telling you to find better friends. Now c'mon, I parked out back." he wraps an arm around her waist, though its not tight, and peers over his shoulder. These guys weren't going to leave without a fight it seems, Dumb, Dumbie and Dumber are all watching her with evil in their eyes.

The two of them walk out and before she can even say thank you, the door swings back open and she's sucker punched one of the assholes and Jason's pulled his gun out for the other two.

"You gents are gunna go home, or you're gonna end up in the dirt. Pick." Jason growls. Not taking him seriously at first, he shoots one dudes foot and the last one standing looks like he might pass out. He picks up his fallen comrades and backs away into the bar.

"For ancients sake those dudes were trying to traffic the hell out of me." She sighs, and Jason holsters his gun.

"Yeah no shit. You okay?" Jason inquires.

"I will be. I'm Jazz, thanks for saving me Hood."

"I'm no-"

"You're literally leaning comfortably on Red Hoods motorcycle that still has his helmet perched on it. No one would do that unless they were suicidal or him." She challenges, but then a look changes in her eyes and she almost looks nervous "But still, do you uhm, wanna get out of here?"

He blinks. She was trying to pick him up? AFTER finding out he was a crime lord??

The answer is that yes, Hell Yes, Jason does want to get out of here. None of the Bats will bother him while he has a civilian, not at the diner he takes her too and certainly not while he's taking her back to one of his safe houses.

Jason had expected one of his siblings to show up in the morning and cause a ruckus. He hadn't planned for a dude to let himself into his kitchen screaming about government agencies tracking Jazz down that wasn't related. Turns out it's her brother and he's floating and no he's not going to explain why he's there or how he found them.

Jazz has a lot to explain to the both of them and it starts with "So I can admit that I have a thing for motorcycle guys-"

[beuxwhoyouare]

Rodeo Buckin’

Every year, my cousins and I take a fun and much needed trip to the rodeo. You might think it’s a little country, but it’s a real melting pot of cultures, the good food, the music, the performances, and ugh the food.

This year my cousin Jane brought her fiance and the whole family was left swooning.

Mario was such a mans man or at least the manliest man my cousins been with in her life. He was a gentleman to all of us offering to buy our food, hold our place in lines, or even giving our smallest cousins a boost to see all the action during the nights big events.

I was so tired from working overtime this week at work and almost fell into a ditch when Mario caught me. Wooo I don’t think a man has ever securely held me like that in my life. He wasn’t obscenely tall but he was well built and always clean cut. I think my cousin said he was a nurse or medical assistant of some kind so he also made good money.

We all split up to enjoy all the rodeo fun. After a few hours I headed to some of the petting zoo stuff just to relax after a long evening out in the heat. I turned the corner and found Mario near the restrooms making out with some other woman. I couldn’t help myself and loudly gasped at the sight. We all thought he was a gentleman but more than anything it proved he was just another whore. He turned to see me and began to hurriedly approach me and that’s when I ran to find my cousin and let her know the truth.

He was way more athletic than I was so I was at a disadvantage but to my aid came a security guard who saw the built man chasing me. But I was wrong, it was definitely not a security guard for the rodeo. I slid around a corner out of Mario’s sight when the stoic guard yanked me to the side. Mario ran by searching around for me but I was hidden behind the guard.

“Thank you sir, but why did you protect me?” I asked somewhat intimidated.

The stoic man stood above me and simply nodded. He guided me to an inconspicuous looking tent. He nudged me to walk inside and I obliged. I didn’t understand what I was looking at in the dim room. A weakly glowing orb in the middle of the room had what sounded like a crying creature inside of it. I began hearing a voice as I approached it cautiously despite not seeing any mouths moving on the small orange lizard looking creature inside the orb.

“I need a hostttttt.” the voice inseminated into my head.

“A host? I can’t really take in a pet or a roommate right now?” I said without trying to be too sarcastic.

“I sense you’re running from a predator….bring it here so I can live.”

“A predator? Oh do you mean Mario? What are you going to do to him?”

“He will be my host so I can continue living to conquer this planet.”

“I don’t really know how you’re going to do all that with Mario but I mean I can do my best.”

I left the tent and saw him still angrily searching for me nearby. I yelled his name before looking around as if I hadn’t. When he saw me he gunned it straight to me and I slowly walked back into the dark tent.

That’s when the stoic man grabbed Mario and restrained his arms behind his back. He then escorted my cousins fiance in front of the lizard like creature. The voice started making sounds that I couldn’t really make out as Mario yelled expletives at me to tell the man to let him go and when he got free he would mess me up.

The walls in the tent started thrashing around as if there was a hurricane outside and as I ran towards the door to see what was going on. A strong gust of wind pushed me back so hard I fell on the ground and hit my head before passing out.

When I came to I saw a figure checking itself out in a bright room mirror. My eyes came back into focus to realize that I was on the floor of the restroom at home and that figure was Mario. I recoiled out of fear that he was about to hit me. Mario continued buttoning up his shirt and turned around to me.

“Don’t worry I’m not going to hurt you. You saved me and I owe you my life.” Mario said as I curled up anticipating a strike.

“Oh! It’s you? You’re inside of Mario? So where is he?” I asked inquisitively.

“He’s gone…once we choose new hosts they’re no longer in existence anymore.”

“That’s kind of sad. But then again he was a freaking cheater.”

“Cheater? How did this Mario cheat? Was there a competition ongoing between you and him?”

“Well no, he was dating my cousin. He was making out with someone else.”

“Mating hmm? How do you humans make out? What’s the goal of the game?”

“Dating actually, but oh well I can show you maybe?”

The creatures naivety was my gain as I tried to hide devilish grin. Let’s be real, no matter who was piloting that body “Mario” is hot as hell.

“How did we get home anyways? Where is everyone?”

“Your group found us and I carried you to the car. They said you drank too much? They left back to the event and they asked if I would stay to take care of you, whatever that entails.”

“Great. I’m going to show you how you can take care of me.”

I lunged at the beefy man and put my hands on his neck. I used one hand to take off his hat and the other to caress the back of his neck as I went in to begin making out. I know he’s engaged to my cousin but screw that right now I needed to know for myself what made Mario so fine to so many people.

I ripped his shirt off and was greeted by a proud torso. Standing up straight and wide, strong arms, plump pecs, and shoulder that could throw me around into any position…and I wanted to put it to work. He stood there unsure what to do next and I moved down to yank his pants and boots off leaving me to view Mario in all his raw glory.

Oh my god that’s why so many people want him.

“How does that fit?” I stupidly asked as if Mario would have an answer.

“I don’t understand. Fit where?”

“Never mind. I just need you to keep thinking about what makes you excited and happy so you can help me out.”

The new Mario likely thought about conquering the world and not me like I wanted but nonetheless the objective was met. Mario's body knew what to do and while he was a shower, maybe he was also partially a grower. It was already thick but it’s getting thicker?

I eagerly greeted the scarily wide tool into my mouth and the new Mario finally had a human reaction. Moaning louder than I’ve ever heard Mario even make sounds. Insatiable is the only way I could describe how I felt. I kept wanting more and the creature kept cooing at the pleasure I was giving it. I could keep taking what it wanted while it got what it wanted. I guided his muscular hands to my the back of my head as he began bobbing my head up and down.

He started picking up the pace and I got an idea. Well I missed the rodeo so this was my change to ride the horse myself.

I got up and he looked at me with yearning eyes. He wanted to finish so badly but I remained in control. I turned myself around and bent over. I told him to put his hands on my waist and begin to buck it hard and fast. And did he ever. Using the muscles alien to his usage I could feel all the efforts Mario put in at the gym going in and out of me. Pleasure mixed with pain in the best ways.

I could tell he was nearing the big moment because he left me breathless. It was an unbelievable pounding. I didn’t actually think I’d be able to take him all but I was determined to feel it all myself.

“Unhh ohhhhnnnnn. What is thisssss?”

I could feel the warmth envelop my insides. Woah that was hands down the best I’ve ever had. I kinda wanted to go again. I bit my lip and told him that he would need to go take a shower while I collected myself.

I saw him take a few selfies as I got up to collect myself.

“On second thought I think I need to come with you to show you how to clean off Mario.” the devilish grin returned to my face

[harrowharkwife]

thinking thoughts about how nona was so obsessed with crown, and crown specifically- not coronabeth. crown, with her boots and her cargo pants and her guns and her hair tied back, with all her charm and strength, all her rage and determination.

was that really just nona? or, walk with me here- is there a chance that that was actually alecto, too, bleeding through and rising to the surface?

alecto, seeing a kind of kinship in crown- in this big, tall, strong blonde with a sword strapped to her back, hot and lovely and kind and awful and powerful and perfect. this woman who refuses to give up- on her sister, on saving jody, on BOE's resistance. who's unafraid to throw one hell of a tantrum, if it means being listened to, for once. crown, who everyone thinks of as dumb, who everyone underestimates, who no one ever takes as seriously as they should, even though she's clearly capable of plenty of atrocities in her own right. this woman who's been described over and over again as someone who positively radiates life, and energy, and vitality, and strength. this woman who wanted nothing more than the chance to be herself, to be free, to serve as cavalier and guardian and protector, but was instead sentenced at birth to a life of being a princess and wearing dresses and looking pretty and loving less and staying out of the way and keeping her mouth shut and playing second fiddle to a necromancer obsessed with power and glory. familiar, no? this woman who was betrayed, left behind, left alone, and left utterly in the dark by the one person who's supposed to love her the most- only to then be told that being abandoned was in her best interest, really, for her own safety.

thinking about all the times we've seen ianthe insult crown's intelligence and praise her beauty in the same breath. you big dumb bimbo, what can you do? of all the times we've seen ianthe fussing over crown's appearance. thinking of the sister-lyctor makeover-montage ahead of dios apate minor, and how harrow hated every second of it, and how ianthe treated it like nostalgic second nature. thinking about the third house: fucked-up planet gossip-girl with all its betrayal and espionage and flesh magic and debauchery, three for the gleam of a jewel or a smile. thinking about the pressure that must have come with keeping up the double-necromancer ruse, about ianthe having successfully played the part of two necromancers from the age of six. exactly how much practice must that have taken? thinking about the casual, automatic, possessive, offhanded, violating nature of ianthe playing god and giving harrow a full head of fast-growing hair without asking, without even telling her, just to make harrow prettier, just to piss her off, just because she could. how she did it so easily, and without hesitation, almost as though she's maybe done that sort of thing before.

thinking about preservation. about a perfect body frozen in ice for a myriad, about ianthe spending all her downtime on the mithraeum figuring out how long she can keep an apple core in perfect stasis before the rot sets in.

thinking about corpse puppeting: a deceased world leader here, a trusted cavalier and friend you've known from the cradle there. about i picked you to change, and this is how you repay me? about she took babs. and who even cares about babs? babs! she could have taken me!

thinking about alecto, and hollywood hair barbie, and you have made me a hideousness.

thinking about crown, who's by her own admission boobs and hair and talk and a hell of a swordhand.

thinking about something as simple as stud earrings, and about how much grief ianthe gave her for daring to wear them.

nona loved crown.

something tells me that alecto might, too.

[j23r23]

Getaway Heart

Tangerine x Reader - angst & fluff

Warnings: blood & vomit

You’ve been a getaway driver since you got your license at 18, maneuvering through the streets with audacity and precision that caught the eye of all the right, and wrong, people. For the past ten years, you worked alone in the shadows, carving out a reputation as the go-to driver for high-stake jobs.

On a rainy evening, the twins handler, a no-nonsense woman with a penchant for dark sunglasses and cryptic instructions, invited you to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Madrid. The place smelled of oil and rubber. There she introduced you to the two men known only by their code names: Tangerine and Lemon. They were looking for a reliable driver, and their handler thought you fit the bill. You knew the Fruits were renowned in the industry for being very good at what they do but were slightly unhinged.

Tangerine was the first to step forward. He was tall and lean, with a sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes that seemed to dissect you with a single glance. Dressed in an impeccably tailored suit that contrasted starkly with the grime of the warehouse, he exuded an air of sophistication and control. His voice was smooth, almost velvety, “So, you’re the driver everyone’s talking about,” he said, his tone carrying a mix of skepticism and curiosity.

Lemon, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Shorter and more muscular, he had a rugged look about him, with bleached hair and an unpredictable glare. His attire was casual— black jeans and a denim jacket—giving off a more approachable vibe. In his hand, he toyed with a small sticker book, flicking it absentmindedly as he watched you.

The initial meeting didn’t go smoothly. Tangerine’s aloof demeanor and Lemon’s staring put you on edge. Tangerine scrutinized your every word and movement, as if searching for a weakness, while Lemon tested your patience with his relentless talk about trains.

“Look, love” Tangerine finally said, crossing his arms, “we don’t have time for screw-ups. We need someone who can handle the heat and think on their feet. Can you do that?”

You met his gaze, your jaw set in determination. “I’ve been doing this long enough to know that hesitation can get you killed. I can handle the heat. Question is, can you keep up? Oh, and the names Orange, love.”

There was a moment of silence before Lemon burst into laughter. “I like this one,” he said, clapping Tangerine on the shoulder. “Got some fire in her.”

Tangerine’s lips curled into a faint smile, the first sign of approval. “Alright Orange,” he said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The memory made you grin.

Right after meeting the twins you had your first job together and it was utter chaos—shit hit the fan, sirens blaring, guns a blazing and the scent of burnt rubber hanging heavy in the air. You were behind the wheel, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you navigated the streets of Madrid with precision.

"Tangerine, we've got company!" Lemon's tone was annoyed.

Tangerine, cool and collected, leaned out of the window, firing off shots with deadly accuracy. "I can see that, Lemon! Im not blind!"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, as the banter between the twins was getting on your nerves. "Would you two save the chatter for later? I'm trying to concentrate here!"

Lemon laughed. "Relax, Orange, we've got this under control."

You just sighed in annoyance and literally put your foot down, pushing the pedal to the metal.

Tangerine, sitting in the seat behind you, clung to the door handle, as hes being pushed back by the force of the speeding car. "Bloody hell, Orange? " he shouted, his voice a mix of panic and irritation.

Lemon, in the backseat, looked even worse. His face was pale, and he was gripping the headrest in front of him for dear life. "For the love of all that's holy, slow down!”

You smirked, your eyes darting between the road and the rearview mirror. "Relax, boys. Let me do my job and i let you do yours" you said, narrowly missing a pedestrian who decided now was the perfect time to jaywalk.

"Relax? Relax?!" Tangerine's voice went up an octave. "We’ve got the entire Mafia of Madrid after us, how in hell am i supposed to work when you’re driving like a maniac!"

You took a sharp turn, the tires screeching in protest. The car tilted dangerously, but you managed to keep it from flipping. Lemon made a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a growl. "If we die, I’m haunting your ass!"

"Hold on to something!" you yelled, spotting a narrow alleyway ahead. Without hesitation, you swerved into it, the car barely fitting between the buildings. The side mirrors scraped against the brick walls, sending sparks flying.

Tangerine’s knuckles were white from gripping the door handle. "Jesus Christ, woman!"

You chuckled, adrenaline pumping through your veins. "I got hired for my driving skills, remember?"

Lemon let out a strangled laugh. "Skills? More like suicidal tendencies!"

As you burst out of the alley and back onto a busy street, a car tried to cut you off. With a quick flick of the wheel, you sideswiped it, sending it crashing into a parked truck. "One down, a few dozen to go," you quipped, glancing at your handiwork in the mirror.

"Just keep us in one piece!" Tangerine barked, looking both impressed and terrified.

You sped towards an upcoming construction site, an idea forming in your mind. "Hold tight," you warned, accelerating even more.

"Oh hell no!" Lemon groaned, clearly dreading your next move.

You aimed for a ramp leading up to a half-built overpass. As the car launched into the air, all three of you screamed—though in your case, it was more of a whoop of excitement. The car soared over the gap, landing with a bone-jarring thud on the other side. The cars that are chasing you weren’t so lucky; the first few smashed into the gap, creating a massive pileup.

Tangerine looked at you with wide eyes, his breath coming in short gasps. "You’re absolutely mad, you know that?"

Lemon, still clutching the headrest, nodded fervently. "Completely off your rocker."

You gave them a cheeky grin. "But i got rid of them, no?"

As the car sped away from the chaos behind, Tangerines eyes still held a hint of disbelief. "You’re a bloody lunatic!"

Lemon slumped back in his seat, finally letting go of the headrest. "Next time, I’m driving."

You laughed, the thrill of the chase still coursing through you. "Sure."

After a few more sharp turns you finally pull into a secluded garage. You killed the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening after the chaos.

"You two okay back there?" you had asked, trying to suppress a smirk.

Lemon had groaned, his face pale as a sheet. "I think I'm gonna be sick, now that we stopped," he had mumbled, clutching his stomach.

Tangerine had shot him a glare before leaning out of the window, retching onto the pavement. "Yeah, and somehow we made it out alive!” he had grumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You turn in your seat looking at the boys smiling. Tangerine shook his head, laughing despite himself. “But remind me never to question your driving skills again.”

“Deal” you replied with a grin.

After that night, the three of you went through countless jobs together, facing danger with unwavering trust in one another. As time passed, your feelings toward Tangerine began to change. Working alongside him, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the way your heart fluttered whenever he flashed a rare smile or the way your pulse quickened at his touch.

The more jobs you pulled, the deeper your affection for him grew, and the harder it became to suppress your emotions.

And now, something feels off. As you sit in the driver's seat of your idling car, the engine's purr does little to calm your anxious nerves. The night is heavy with tension, the rearview mirror becoming your only solace. You glance back repeatedly, your mind racing through every possible outcome of tonight's job.

Tonight's mission was supposed to be a straightforward smash and grab. The target: a high-end jewelry store fronting as a money laundering operation for one of the city's major crime syndicates in London. Intelligence indicated minimal security—just a couple of guards, easily neutralized. Tangerine and Lemon were tasked with infiltrating, grabbing the goods, and getting out before anyone noticed. Simple, clean, efficient.

You were parked in the back alley of the building, engine running, ready for the signal. The minutes stretched on, each one feeling like an hour. Something gnawed at your gut, a premonition that things weren't going according to plan. You'd run through every escape route, every contingency, but no amount of planning could shake the unease that had settled over you.

The longer you waited, the more your thoughts drifted back to Tangerine. His smile, his confidence, the way he always seemed to know what to say to calm you down. You remember the first time he took a bullet for you. He had laughed it off, calling you a softie for worrying. That was Tangerine—fearless, almost reckless, but with a heart that beat fiercely for those he cared about.

You trusted them both with your life, but tonight, that trust felt more like a lifeline, taut and fraying with each passing second.

The rearview mirror offers no new insights, just the darkened street and the distant sounds of the city. You grip the steering wheel tighter. You can almost hear Tangerine’s voice, telling you to stay calm, to trust the plan. But the plan is starting to feel like a distant memory, overshadowed by a growing fear that this time, things won’t go as smoothly as they always have.

And then, like a thunderclap, the back door of the building bursts open.

Suddenly, Lemon charges through the back door of the building, supporting a hunched over Tangerine. It's clear that this simple job has gone terribly wrong. As they stagger closer, you see the blood—Tangerine is losing a lot of it. You reverse the car and drive towards them. Lemon yanks open the back door, practically shoving Tangerine inside before he climbs in himself.

"Go, go, go!" Lemon shouts, urgency in his voice.

You change immediately into first and slam the gas pedal to the floor, the tires screeching as the car lurches forward. The doors are barely closed, but you don’t have time to worry about that. In the rearview mirror, you see Lemon struggling to put pressure on one of Tangerines wounds, while the latter squirms in pain.

"What the fuck happened?" you demand, weaving through traffic with precision.

"Tangerine underestimated the Job, didn't wear his west and got shot," Lemon replies, his voice strained. Tangerine just groans, clearly in too much pain to speak.

"You didn't wear your fucking west?" you scoff, your hands gripping the wheel tightly. "You always chastise us when we're not wearing one, what the fuck were you thinking!"

"Yeah, well," Tangerine mutters in pain, "we all make mistakes."

You maneuver through the city's maze-like streets, dodging late-night traffic and running red lights. The city's neon lights cast eerie reflections inside the car, illuminating the tense scene. The smell of blood fills the air, and you can hear Tangerine's labored breathing from the back seat.

"You better not die on me, Tangerine," you say, your voice tight with a mixture of fear and anger. "I’m not dealing with your expensive funeral."

Tangerine tries to laugh, but it turns into a pained groan. "Always… so considerate," he manages to say between gasps.

"Save your strength, mate," Lemon says, pressing another wad of cloth against Tangerine's bleeding abdomen. "We need you to stay awake."

The car roars down a narrow alleyway, the tires barely gripping the slick pavement as you take a sharp turn. You can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. Every second counts, and the safehouse feels a million miles away.

"I swear, if we make it out of this alive, you're going to owe me one pristine car cleaning," you assert firmly, your voice tinged with worry.

"Deal," Tangerine replies, his eyes closing. Lemon looks at you through the rearview mirror "Just get us there in one piece."

You weave through the final stretch of city streets, your knuckles white on the steering wheel. The safehouse looms ahead, a nondescript building that has become your haven in times of crisis. You screech to a halt after driving into the garage, the car barely stopping before you pull the handbrake.

"Help me get him inside," Lemon says, rushing out and opening the back door. Together, you and Lemon half-carry, half-drag Tangerine towards the entrance, his blood leaving a grim trail behind you.

"Hang on, Tan," you whisper, your voice breaking despite your best efforts to stay calm. "We're almost there."

Inside the safehouse, the familiar surroundings offer little comfort. You clear the kitchen table with a sweep of your arm, sending everything crashing to the floor.

"Lay him down here," you instruct. "I need to see how bad it is."

Tangerine's eyes flutter open, and he looks up at you with a weak smile. "You always did know how to make things dramatic, love" he jokes, his voice barely a whisper.

"Shut up," you say, your throat tight. "Just let me fix you up."

As you rip open his shirt, revealing the extent of his injuries, the reality of the situation hits you like a punch to the gut. Four bullet wounds, two in his left shoulder one in his right arm and the worst is stuck in the right side of his abdomen.

This isn't just another job gone wrong. This is a fight for survival. And in this moment, all you can think about is keeping Tangerine alive.

"You ruined my Burberry suit," Tangerine complains weakly, attempting a half-hearted smirk.

"I said, shut up," you snap, your voice tight with worry. Your hands move quickly, working to stop the bleeding. Tears blur your vision, but you force yourself to focus, ignoring the emotional storm brewing inside you.

Lemon stands by, trying to keep pressure on the wounds. He looks at you, concern etched on his face. "You alright?" he asks, noticing your tears.

You nod, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on your shoulders. Each bullet you extract from Tangerine's flesh elicits an excruciating scream from him that reverberates through the room and it slices through you like a knife. But you steel yourself against the anguish, focusing solely on the task at hand. With each bullet removed, Tangerine's body relaxes a fraction, but his agony remains palpable.

Exhaustion settles over him like a heavy shroud, and he slumps back, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. You work quickly, stitching him up as best you can with trembling hands, the urgency of the situation lending you a sense of clarity.

Once Tangerine is bandaged and relatively stable, you turn your attention to the smaller cuts and abrasions littering his body. With gentle care, you clean away the blood, your movements deliberate and precise as you tend to his wounds.

When you finally finish, you look to Lemon, concern etched into your features. "You got any injuries?" you ask, your voice laced with worry.

He shakes his head, his gaze unwavering as he grabs a blanket and pillow, arranging them to make Tangerine's makeshift bed on the kitchen table a little more comfortable.

You look at your blood covered hands and your mind starts to race,

The reality of the situation sinking in. Despite your years of experience you can't shake the feeling of helplessness that washes over you. You've faced danger countless times before, but this time feels different.

As you turn to wash the blood away in the sink, Lemon appears at your side. His eyes hold a depth of understanding that cuts through the turmoil in your soul.

"Not exactly the night we planned, huh?" Lemon tries to joke, but his voice wavers.

"Yeah…" you reply, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

"You love him, don't you?" Lemon's voice breaks the silence, gentle but insistent.

You pause, the question hanging in the air. Tears spill over, and you nod, holding in a sob. "Yes," you whisper, your voice cracking. "I do."

Wordlessly, he reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. His touch is grounding.

With a steadying breath, you push aside the tumult of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

You look back at your shaking hands seeing the sink run red as you rinse the rest of Tans blood away, the water swirling slowly like the tension in your chest. The room feels both too small and too vast, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

Lemon's eyes soften with understanding. "Does he know?" he asks gently.

You shake your head, tears now flowing freely. "No," you manage to choke out.

Lemon gives you a sad smile and pats your back. "It's gonna be okay. He's tough. He'll pull through. He's Tangerine, after all."

You look over at Tangerine, his face pale and his breathing shallow. The sight of him like this, so vulnerable, breaks something inside you. You sink to your knees beside the table, clutching his hand in yours, your tears falling onto his bloodstained shirt.

"I should have told him, “ You whisper, your voice breaking. "I should have told him every day."

Lemon kneels beside you, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "He knows," he says softly. "Somehow, he knows. And he’s fighting.”

The room is silent except for the faint, labored breathing of Tangerine. You press your forehead to Tangerine's hand, your sobs shaking your entire body.

"Please, don't leave me," you whisper, your voice raw with pain. "I can't do this without you."

"He's going to make it," Lemon murmurs, more to himself than to you. "He has to."

You cling to those words, praying that they're true. Because the thought of a world without Tangerine is too much to bear.

When the morning sun shines through the kitchen window, you stir, the warm light nudging you awake. You jolt up, immediately checking on Tangerine and finding him still breathing, albeit slowly. His chest rises and falls steadily, and a wave of relief washes over you.

Your body aches from the uncomfortable sleeping position, but you ignore it, stretching briefly before moving around the kitchen to make some coffee, the familiar routine grounding you.

Suddenly, you hear a faint sound. Turning around, you see Tangerine, though barely conscious, calling out for you, reaching out weakly.

"Hey, " he murmurs, his eyes fluttering closed but a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You rush to his side, your heart heavy yet light with relief. “don't go too far" he whispers, his hand finding yours.

"Lemon!" you call out, your voice trembling with a mix of emotions. "Lemon, get in here!"

Lemon appears in the doorway, eyes widening as he takes in the scene. "What's going on? Is he—?"

"He's awake," you say, unable to contain the sob that escapes your lips. "He's going to be okay."

Lemon's face softens with a mixture of relief and joy. He steps forward, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I told you he's tough," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "Tan doesn't go down that easily."

You nod, unable to speak, the relief washing over you in waves. You stay by Tangerines side, his hand still clasped in yours, feeling the weight of the nights fear and uncertainty lift just a little.

Lemon places a gentle hand on your back, his voice soft but firm. "You need to rest. Take a shower, change into some fresh clothes. I'll keep an eye on him."

You hesitate, glancing back at Tangerine "Are you sure?" you ask, your voice wavering with concern.

"I'm sure," Lemon reassures you, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You look like shit."

"Thanks, Lem." you shake your head at his compliment and make your way to the bathroom. The hot water cascading over you feels like a much-needed cleanse, washing away the grime and the fear of the night. You change into fresh clothes, feeling a bit more human, and take a moment to steady yourself before heading back to the kitchen.

When you return, you see Lemon leaning close to Tangerine, their voices low as Tangerine attempts to sit up, wincing with every movement. Lemon supports him, and you quickly move to their side, slipping an arm around Tangerine to help. Together, you guide him into one of the bedrooms, easing him onto the bed so he can rest more comfortably.

"Thanks," Tangerine murmurs, his face still pale but his eyes more focused.

"You need to rest," you say, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. "We'll be right outside." As you and Lemon turn to leave, Tangerine's voice stops you.

"Wait." His hand reaches out, grabbing yours weakly. You look at Lemon, who gives you a knowing nod.

"I'll give you two some privacy," he says softly. "Call if you need anything." You nod at Lemon before turning back to Tangerine.

"You scared the living daylight out of me last night," you admit, your voice trembling slightly as you sit on the edge of the bed, Tangerine's hand still clasped in yours.

"I didn't mean to," he replies, a weak smile playing on his lips. "But I guess I did give that Burberry suit a run for its money."

You manage a small laugh, tears of relief filling your eyes. "I guess I owe you a new shirt," you say, your voice breaking with emotion as you remember ripping it off him to stop the bleeding.

"And i owe you a pristine car cleaning," he replies, squeezing your hand tightly, his smile widening.

Your laughter fades and you sit in silence for a moment, gathering your courage. You know that now is the time to speak your heart. “Tan I—” you begin, but Tangerine interrupts, his expression soft.

"Thank you." He looks down for a second, watching his hand play with yours. “Sorry, you were saying,” he looks back up into your eyes.

You blink in confusion, feeling your cheeks flush. "Oh, erm… you don’t have to thank me. It’s... it’s part of the job." you mumble.

Tangerine’s grip on your hand tightens, his eyes never leaving yours. "It’s more than just a job to you, isn’t it?"

You swallow hard, the truth pressing against your lips. "Yes," you whisper, barely able to hold back the tears. "It’s more. So much more."

He nods, a bittersweet smile on his face. "Lemon might have hinted at it before, but I’ve suspected for a while."

A mixture of relief and embaressement washes over you. "Lemon and his big mouth," you mutter, a weak laugh escaping your lips.

Tangerine chuckles, but winces in pain. You scold him lightly. "Don’t laugh, you idiot. You need to rest."

He grins despite the pain, bringing his hand to your cheek. "Will you stay?"

You lean into his hand, feeling his touch. "I'll stay." you whisper, tears falling freely now.

Tangerine’s eyes soften, and he reaches out to brush a tear from your cheek. "I’ve been feeling the same way you know. For a while actually."

Your heart races, and you struggle to find your voice. "What?" Tangerine’s eyes flick between your eyes and your lips before he closes the gap, kissing you softly. The kiss is tender, filled with all the unspoken emotions you’ve both been holding back.

Its a clusterfuck, but someone might like it...

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Artist: Norm Breyfogle

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman is working tirelessly to find out who you are. What will you do when he finds you? What will he do?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)

Warning: Adult language, breaking in and entering

Word Count: 1.4k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it 

Part One Part Three

Part Two: Job Opportunity

“Master Bruce, do you think there is a possibility that this manhunt of yours may be born out of paranoia? Or perhaps an injury-induced delirium?” Alfred asked, as Bruce manically typed information into the Batcomputer. 

“That’s the problem, Alfred. There are no injuries. None. She healed me. She saw my face.” Bruce’s low voice rumbled. 

“Only you, Master Bruce, would consider a lack of injuries a problem,” Alfred sardonically stated. “Are you quite sure it was a woman?”

Bruce didn’t bother with a verbal response. He merely gave a curt nod. The sound of the elevator pinging and the door opening did not budge Bruce’s concentration from the computer. 

“Bruce, I’m back from Commissioner Gordon’s. The fingerprint is a dud. There are no matches in the criminal database,” Dick said, jumping into a rolly chair and sliding very loudly over toward Bruce. 

“That narrows it down, only about 25% of women in Gotham don’t have any form of criminal record,” Bruce muttered out loud. He didn’t particularly care if anyone heard. It moreso was for his train of thought. Bruce continued typing furiously, “I’ll check it against the other databases.”

Dick spun aggressively in his chair, “You got that fingerprint off your suit, right? What about the mask that was left?”

“The mask had been unused and freshly opened. There were some traces of fingerprints on that but my blood made them nearly impossible to ascertain,” Bruce said flatly. Bruce’s computer flashed with an oncoming message from Barbara. 

[The street cam footage was shaky, but I got a general description. She is about __ tall, with __ hair, and __ skin. It also appears that she is wearing a medical uniform that is issued for Gotham General Hospital. You’re welcome, Babs.]

Dick leaned so close to the computer that his and Bruce’s cheeks touched, “Wow I didn’t realize you brought in the big gun Babs. You want this girl found.”

Bruce tried not to smile at the ridiculous boy, “She saw my identity, Dick.”

Dick inhaled sharply through his teeth, “What are you going to do when you find her?”

A few ideas popped into Bruce’s mind, not all of them were legal. 

“He hasn’t got a clue, Master Dick,” Alfred said, spawning behind the two men, holding a silver tray with a bowl of Lucky Charms on it for Dick and a large black coffee for Bruce. 

“Thank you, Alfred,” Dick said, taking the cereal, “I mean she saved your life, Bruce. She hasn’t told anyone your identity,” Dick said, feeling the odd need to defend this girl he has never met. 

“She could just be selling the information to the highest bidder,” Bruce said, sharply taking a glug of coffee. 

Dick held back from rolling his eyes. He looked at the monitor and stared at the girl. “She saved your life when she didn’t have to. I don’t think she would ruin it on a whim. Not every person is out to get you, Bruce.”

And with that Dick and Alfred left Bruce alone in the Batcave. 

Bruce took another long sip of his coffee and continued his search. A small smile, barely a smirk lifted on his lips. 

It was a good thing that healthcare workers needed to get fingerprinted. 

He found her. Now all he needed was a solid plan. 

************************************************************************

“Y/n please girl. Please, please, please, please, please,” Sam begged jokingly with her hands together. 

“Nope! No! I am not taking another patient with bed bugs! I took the last one for you and I felt itchy for a week. Besides I have my hands full with an IICP and a stabbing,” I said, wagging my finger at my friend. 

“Gah fine! Wish me luck. I’m manifesting that I have rancid energy that repels beg bugs but is very welcoming and kind to patients.”

I laughed at her, “When you figure out that ratio please let me know, babe.”

The rest of the shift went by quickly, and mostly uneventful. I healed the head injury enough that no surgery would be required. I healed that stabbing enough that he could go home stable the next day. I healed a gunshot wound. A sick two-year-old with a fever. And so on. By the time I was walking out the back of my eyes burned and my back throbbed. I needed to do some stretching. Maybe take a long bath with some Epsom salt and a dirty romance novel. 

My walk home was uneventful. I was grateful to see my apartment. I wanted to shower, sleep, and cuddle Hashbrown. 

I turned the key to my apartment and stepped my leg in to block an anticipatory escape plan from Hashbrown. I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion when she did not greet me at the door. A sense of unease flooded my body and I rushed in.

“Hashbrown? Here kitty-kitty!” I yelled in my sing-song voice for her. The hairs on my neck stood up. Something about the energy in my home was different. It was charged. Slowly, I grabbed my pepper spray. With my other hand, I grabbed my phone. 

Out of the darkness, there was a twing of metal and my phone and pepper spray were on the ground. Quickly, I turned to run out the door. 

“I just want to talk,” a gruff voice said from the darkness. I fumbled my hand against the wall and flicked on the light. 

I tried not to laugh. 

Batman was in my living room, with my cat on his lap. Hashbrown, the traitor seemed completely enamored by him. Some guard cat she was. 

I walked casually to my kitchen, to my fridge. “Do you want anything to eat or drink, Batman? I have some leftover Thai food, some diet cherry vanilla coke, water, coffee, tea?” 

“None for me,” he said, his voice seemingly lower by the second. 

After my dinner was assembled I joined him on the couch. I faced across from him. “What do you want to talk about? And why the fuck did you feel like it was okay to break into my apartment?”

“You’re bold. Is it a front to hide your fear of me?” He asked as Hashbrown nuzzled against his sharp chin. 

I looked at him, almost annoyed, “Should I be afraid, Bruce?” 

“I guess that depends on your answer,” Bruce said, intentionally not finishing his statement. 

“If you want an answer you need to ask me a question,” my tone was sharp. My anger was surging. I just got off a thirteen-hour shift of a four-day stretch. I just wanted to eat, shower, and go to bed. But this oversized emo chicken was interrupting that. 

“What would you do if the world knew about your healing powers?” He asked, and my heart stopped. 

“What would you do if the world knew your identity, Bruce Wayne?” I practically hissed the last part. How dare he break into my apartment, pet my cat, and threaten me? 

“It would be the end of the Batman,” Bruce said.

I looked him dead in the eyes. I held no fear. I just showed him my true exhaustion. “If you’re worried about me telling anyone, I won’t. Call it personal morals or call it fucking HIPPA I don’t care. I’m not going to tell because you were my patient and I cared for you. End of story. Now get out of my house.”

“Would you like to work for me and my family?”

The offer caught me so off guard I almost got whiplash from it. “Excuse me?”

“You would be a permanent first responder that lived in the Wayne Manor full time. Full benefits. A salary ten times what you are making now. You will need to sign an employment contract and an NDA. Your cat of course can also live at the manor. Your services will just need to be available 24/7.”

My mind whirled, “Give me a week to think about it. Write a draft proposal and give it to me as soon as possible. To be frank, I do feel like this is a form of manipulation. You want to hold power over me by being my employer and having me sign an NDA. You want to keep a close eye on me so that you know what I’m doing, who I’m talking to, and what I’m saying. You do not trust that I will simply not say anything out of my own morality.” 

I saw a ghost of a smile on his face, “You’re smart. You will fit in well. I will have the draft in your mailbox by tomorrow. Goodnight, Miss Y/l/n.”

Before I could say anything, he was out the window and vanished into the night. 

“What the fuck, Hashbrown?” I yelled, scooping her up. “What am I going to do?”

[gtsdreamer2]

"Come on sweetie, make me bigger. You know how it makes me feel. You know I crave it. I can't help it, of course. The feeling of growing bigger...stronger...sexier..more powerful, it's just too much of a rush."

You had just surrendered a whole foot of height to this woman. She was now a little taller than you. You were hoping that she would be satisfied with that, but it seemed that she was only getting more drunk on the power and needing more.

"No, I need to keep the rest of my size, I can't risk being any smaller!" You pushed her off of you with force and her body thudded into the wall behind her. The kinetic force was absorbed by her body and she shuddered as another three inches were added to her height.

"Mmmph." She cooed, "You're going to help me grow, one way or another." She rushed you then, grabbing your arms and pinning you to the wall opposite where she just collided. As she reopened the channel to start stealing your size, you used your free legs to deliver a forcible kick right beteeen her legs. Her body rose from the force, but didn't come back down, as the impact was again used as fuel for her growing form.

As she grew, so did the density of her muscles. Her grip on your wrists tightened as she started to laugh. She threw her head back in ecstasy and let out a breathy moan as she planted a big wet kiss against your lips to steal more of your size.

One, two, than three more feet were stolen from you as you became too weak to fight back. She was now holding your two foot tall body by one hand as you were pressed against the wall and her hungry mouth.

Just then, your roommate came home to find this ten foot tall beauty close to finishing you off. He pulled out his gun and was ready to fire on her to save you.

"Wait, don't..."you cried out meekly, but it was too late. Your mate pulled the trigger, hitting her in the small of her back.

The kinetic force of the bullet was stronger than anything a normal attack could deliver to her, but her invincible body had no trouble converting all that force just the same. She exploded outwards in all directions screaming and moaning and laughing in ecstasy as she gained twenty feet in height over twn seconds. Freaking out, your roommate fired three more shots into her, exponentially speeding up her growth.

"This is phenomenal! I'm phenomenal!"She roared as she destroyed the room she was previously confined to. You were clinging to one of her toes for dear life at this point as she removed the rubble from above your friend. "Shoot me again. I need more!" She commanded. Whether it was out of fear, or worship, he obeyed this new goddess and fired the remaining shots right into her. Her orgasm moved through her as she crested the hundred foot mark.

Finally coming down from her high, she planted her gigantic ass, destroying several buildings. "That was amazing. I think I'm actually satisfied for now." She sighed heavily, basking in her afterglow. She looked to the horizon and saw a small (to her) plane on its way to deliver a nuke to stop the giant threat that was her. "I guess I could get a smidge bigger." She said, opening her arms wide to accept the bomb into her bountiful bosom.

[fushipurro]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

Chapter 4 - Black Star

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☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, cowboy!au, gangs, gun violence, graphic depictions of death, blood, mentions of alcohol, creampie, breeding kink, mutual masturbation, biting

☆ Word Count: 6.9k (tehe)

A lot’s changed since you were last in Manzanita Post some years ago. What was once a one stop shop for hunting supplies has evolved into several storefronts, a couple homes, a dozen tents, and even a train station to increase foot traffic.

To reach Blackwater from Valentine, you inevitably had to pass through Tall Trees. You considered ignoring the fork in the road ─ one that takes you to either the post or the plains ─ to get to Kento sooner but ended up deciding on a quick trip down memory lane instead.

And a good decision that was; one you’ll realize in due time.

The general store in town happens to be where your father had met your mother. The business belonged to her family after all; at least… it did back then.

After some time spent perusing the store, running your fingers along the dusted shelves, you leave with your satchel full, stepping out into the midday sun. The redwood trees offer plenty of shade, but not enough to cover all of the sun’s golden warmth.

There’s an acrid smell in the air as soon as you step out, one with traces of metal mixed with harsh vapors ─ blood and smoke. The man responsible is more than aware of your presence.

His familiar green eyes already locked onto your form, all in that same midnight leather outfit. He smirks when you finally catch his gaze.

“We meet again I see, and so soon too,” he purrs, a laugh rumbling from deep in his chest. “You followin’ me, sweetheart?”

You huff, almost caught off by his amusement. Satoru claimed him to be a grouch, but all you see is a flirt. “Could say the same to you, Outlaw Killer.”

“Are you making a confession? I’d remember any wanted posters with your pretty face on ‘em,” he says with full confidence. You gotta give him credit for being bold, any woman would feel red in the face hearing that.

“Then you must not have seen today’s paper,” you tease, though really, it’s just an attempt at getting on equal footing. He’s got the looks, now you just need to see the personality.

“Do they even have it up to date this far in the woods?”

“Touché, but you came here for a reason, didn’t you?” you muse, quirking a brow as you shift your balance to one foot. “If not me, then what’s the reason?”

He takes a drag of his cigarette then turns his head upwards, exhaling into the light. “I go where there’s money, simple as that.”

A reasonable answer, one you can relate to in your own journey.

“Can’t imagine there’s much of that out here for you compared to Valentine,” you remark. If he wanted a job, that’s gonna be the place.

Tall Trees has never been the most hospitable of places to settle down in. Many try, but having run-ins with bears on your way to and from the outhouse each day doesn’t make for a quality stay. Unless you’re a hunter, and a brave one at that, this is not the place for you.

“Check again, cowgirl.” The man taps the back of his hand against a sheet of paper nailed to the shop’s log exterior ─ a wanted poster. “I think I’ll do just fine out here.”

Your curiosity grows, wondering what sort of outlaw is here of all places. Posters like these are few and far throughout the years in Manzanita Post, for the same reason as the lack of housing. Stepping closer, you now realize why there’s a need for such a thing here.

The outlaw wanted ─ dead or alive ─ is none other than the man who killed your parents.

You expect murder to be reason warranting this, but instead, it’s robbery. Just robbery.

The poster lists how he and his gang have been ambushing traders in the area, holding them at gunpoint for their supplies.

Why isn’t it murder though? You can’t honestly believe everyone’s unaware or has forgotten what this man did to your family. Since coming here, you’ve already seen some remnants of your mother’s side or family friends ─ one of which is taking care of your mares at the moment. But all it took was for one rich city-slicker to get robbed before the world started causing a fuss.

How aggravating.

“Someone you know?” he asks, all signs of romantic intent faded from his expression, replaced with his own budding curiosity.

“What makes you say that?” you snap, a certain hostility lacing your tone.

“Your face,” he says, gesturing with his cigarette. He appears unbothered by your slight outburst. “Could kill a man with those looks.”

If anyone’s getting killed today, it’s going to be that man. He deserves a fate worse than sitting behind bars in a city jail. A fate you can grant him.

You don’t reply to the bounty hunter though, merely turning on your heel in the direction of your horses. Leaves and twigs snap harshly with every step taken, fueled by an ignited rage.

The cowboy snuffs his cigarette beneath his steel toe boot, deciding to follow after you. He doesn’t have to ask where you’re going; the answer is obvious, and he wants in on the fun. You’ve barely make it out onto the road west of the post before he’s already at your side atop his steed.

“Mind if I join ya?” He grins, eagerness evident in his features.

You spare him a passing glance before looking back ahead.

“Do what you want.”

And so he does.

Toji, ends up proving to be refreshing company in a forest full of distant memories, aged like the trees themselves. Along the way, he recounts many tales of his previous hunts to you, all to help lighten the mood. Some are humorous, and others downright gloating, but you appreciate the distraction, nonetheless.

One such tale is about a guy who thought the best place he could lay low from the law would be some slippery rocks besides a stream of rapids. Needless to say, when coming face to face with someone as intimidating as Toji, the guy tried to flee, only to trip and fall into the current. It would’ve been funny had it not been a bounty where the reward would only come if they were still breathing upon return.

This went on for another dozen tales, all until arriving at the edge of Aurora Basin. And unlike the trading post, the lake hasn’t changed one bit.

On the far side along the shore, the cabin you called home still rests, nearly untouched save for nature’s reclaim. The afternoon sun makes it appear glowing in a thin sheet of gold; rays of light reflecting off the surface of calm waves and glass windows. In the distance, an elk can be heard and seen calling out for its herd. A bull and some cows, a few calves mixed in.

A family.

You wonder if the wolf dubbed Lobo still prowls these grand sequoias with his own pack. They no longer have the threat of humans mingling around their watering hole to worry. Not since the day you left these woods and into the frontier.

“Anything interesting?” Toji inquires, calling you back from your youthful reverie.

You take a moment to breathe in the familiar air that tickles your lungs with frostbite, shaking your head in response to the man. “Nah… just admiring the view is all.”

He hums, and although he’s unconvinced by your answer, he doesn’t push.

The remainder of the ride through the mountain pass is quiet, leaving you to ruminate your memories a little while longer.

You’ve spent enough time out here with all of Tall Trees as your backyard of play. You practically have a name for every tree and animal you’ve come across in your youth, all of which are now just a bitter reminder of what once was. You were born into this forest; it was your whole life. But for your father, it was an escape.

The gang he ran with originally was settled in the deserts down south, but he came here in search of a different life, separate from all the needless killings and petty thievery. He found that, and everything else he dreamt about having.

His biggest mistake however was thinking he could walk away from his past like nothing ever happened and believe there would be no repercussions.

Like many others in the growing world, the gang you’re hunting followed your father north for a fresh start as well. In doing so, they made their claim through the only way they know how.

Bloodshed.

“Hold up,” Toji suddenly says, drawing your focus. You turn to him as he’s already pulled a pair of binoculars from his bag, looking intently at something in the distance. “There’s a sniper up ahead in a lookout post.” He offers you his binoculars to confirm, and sure enough, you recognize the armed outlaw.

“Looks like we’re here,” you tell him, handing him back his gear.

Toji leans forward in the saddle over crossed arms, angling his head to look at you. “What is here, exactly?”

“Cochinay ─ the hideout of our target.” You move Valentine off the trail and into the undergrowth for cover. “We should go on foot from here on out,” you add, dismounting with your Springfield rifle in hand.

Toji hitches his black stallion ─ Blackjack ─ to a tree close by. “I get it’s none of my business and all but seeing as we’re fixin’ to bust through the doors of their camp, you might want to tell me a little more on what you know.”

Sadly, he’s got a point.

Your past isn’t something you often share, especially with someone you only recently met. Satoru was an exception ─ a brief glimpse at the overall picture of your youth. But this? This is where your old self died, marking the birth of the you from today. It would be wise to at least give Toji something to work with. And so, you sigh, and begin to tell him.

“I’ve got some history with this gang,” you start, moving stealthily through the shrubbery on your approach to the camp. “My father was a longtime member, he was born into their way of living.”

“Guessin’ that’s where you got the nerve to charge into an outlaw camp twice now including this?” His words referencing Suguru and his gang. You glance back over your shoulder, seeing the knowing smirk on his face. “What, don’t look surprised,” he laughs quietly, “I wouldn’t be a very good bounty hunter if I didn’t have eyes on everything goin’ on, now would I?”

Rolling your eyes, you press on, creeping closer to your destination. A wooden wall comes into view ─ high and spiked at the top. It wouldn’t surprise you to find some carcasses staked and on display as a warning to anyone who comes too close.

“Everything I am is because of my parents, not some degenerate group whose only motivation is liquor or gold,” you scoff. “Outlaws or not, I was raised to not back down.”

“So what happened to them?” His questions stops you dead in your tracks. Toji moves to your side to get a better look at you, your head hanging low, with eyes glued to some hummingbird sage at your feet. You reach out to said petals, the violet color meshing with the shadows and fading sunlight.

“That man on the poster.” You pause, drifting your gaze from the flower to Toji as a breeze kicks up, taking some of those very petals away and into the air. “He killed them.”

“I see,” he replies, offering no consoling words after. You’re glad, because what good would they do now? It’s neither the time nor place, and the memories you have are just that.

Memories.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Life will always go on and all you can do is ride it out like a rodeo bronc, hoping that in time, everything will calm.

“You here for revenge then? I’ll warn you now, that can get pretty messy if you’re not careful.”

“Something like that, but don’t worry about me.” You end the discussion before he can say more by moving up along the wall.

He snorts though, continuing to follow. “Didn’t say I would,” Toji mumbles under his breath. Really, he doesn’t think he has to, given your headstrong attitude. So long as your arrogance doesn’t get in the way ─ you should be just fine.

You end up finding a section of the wall where the wood is rotted, or chewed away, enough so that it can be removed with ease, making for a silent entry. It’s funny how common of a theme this is becoming. Do these gangs not pay attention to their security? Even on the inside, the grass is kept tall with a plethora of barrels and wagons that are perfect to hide behind.

The camp itself is divided on the inside into multiple sections. With steep mountains resting on either side, any efforts to scale around would be futile. The only way to the heart of said mountains is through two sets of gates, the first of which has a pair of guards on sentry duty.

The only way to reach your goal is to go in guns blazing.

“Cover me while I handle the guards?” Toji requests, as if reading your mind. You respond with slight nod of your head, readying your rifle. “Best not to stray far once we make ourselves known.”

“Don’t go running in front of my sights now,” you tease, and he laughs one final time before his expression turns serious.

Toji sneaks around in front of you, inching closer to the gate. Once far enough away, you let a sigh when you know he can’t hear. It’s easy to feel safe in a camp of outlaws when your partner is coined the outlaw killer, but you can’t forget that you’re up against the man that shattered your family. One mistake, and you’ll be joining them six feet under, assuming they were ever buried to begin with.

“Howdy gentlemen.” Toji stalks up to the men seemingly without a care, tipping his hat all the while. One hand remains hooked on his belt, close to the iron at his hips.

“Who the hell are you?” one of the guards questions, not waiting for his response as his finger meets the trigger of his rifle.

Too slow. The bullet from yours whistles past Toji and into the outlaw’s skull. Their body collapsing with a heavy thump.

“Intru–“

The other guard’s cry for help is silenced midway by a blow from Toji’s revolver. Either way, there was never a need to make the announcement, not when the sound of gunfire is echoing against the canyon walls.

From there, everything quickly turns to a blur fueled by adrenaline. With a revolver in one hand, and a sawed off in the other, Toji unleashes hell upon the camp while you snipe from afar.

The gate to the second area opens, cueing the arrival of a dozen more outlaws, completely underestimating what they’re up against. Their screams are nightmarish, as if met by Death himself, dressed head to toe in black leather stained in crimson tones.

Toji’s downright sinister smile never falters while reveling in the carnage crafted by his own making. It evokes a primal feeling from within watching one man inflict such destruction upon those who upended your life.

“Move up!” he shouts to you, stepping past bodies into the next section of camp. More outlaws await, fixing to meet their final breaths with an anguishing cry.

In your haste to keep up, you fail to notice one of the cowards slipping close to the wall as you enter. They grab your ankle unexpectantly, forcing you down and into the dirt. The outlaw kicks your rifle away, pinning your body down with their knee at the small of your back.

This position makes it near impossible to fight back, and your mind starts to race with thoughts and memories, flashing before your eyes. What a pathetic way this would be to meet your demise, and at the hands of some lowlife no less. For a split second, you wonder whether you should keep squirming or let the inevitable come sooner.

You wouldn’t have to fight anymore.

You may even see your family sooner, contrary to the brave front you always have up.

No sooner do you feel their grip loosening, on top of something wet hitting your back like rainfall. A long, serrated hunting knife falls dangerously close before your face. It’s blade and handle coated in fresh blood.

“Get up!” You hear Toji’s voice shouting at you.

Using the newfound freedom, you take the bloodied handle, curling your body around before snapping your arm to the side without any hesitation, slicing the outlaw’s throat. They cry painfully before meeting their end, choking on their own blood.

Toji rushes over, pulling you up by your arm. “Why didn’t you yell for me?” he says, his voice tinged with subtle anger, like a scolding parent. Another outlaw tries to take advantage of this reprieve but is quickly met with the barrel of Toji’s shotgun point blank between their eyes.

Another one down.

“It doesn’t matter,” you claim, picking your rifle back up. He doesn’t buy it, still giving you that disapproving stare.

“Stick close, I mean it,” he warns, waving his finger at you. His tone leaves no room to argue either.

You throw your rifle over your shoulder, swapping it out for dual revolvers prime for close combat. With your backs together, the two of you shoot all who dare to come close, sometimes maneuvering your arms around the other like a ballroom dance. Bullets fly all around, making you duck and twirl, spinning as one with elaborate footing.

“Cover me, will ya?” you call out over the gunfire into Toji’s ears. He responds by picking up his pace, refusing to let any threats near while you turn to an ole reliable from out of your satchel. Dynamite.

It’s not often you get the chance to use some explosives, especially without any drawbacks. You more than happily light it up before tossing it towards the innermost gate.

The blast ruptures, collapsing the gate and one of the guard towers as well. Pieces of the fence go flying in all directions, one even impaling another outlaw in the chest before your bullet could fire.

It takes a minute before the smoke clears, finally allowing you to see into the heart of the camp ─ seeing him as you do.

The bounty’s face is twisted with displeasure, knowing full well the dire state he’s in. It’s only a matter of time before his life and all his claims are forfeit to the one he took it all away from.

You pull up your rifle once again, aiming down the sights at his sorry face. Realization dawns on him the moment he meets your eyes through the scope, and right as you fire, he bolts down into a cave.

“Shit,” you hiss, abandoning Toji’s side to take pursuit. He shouts for you again, but his voice is clouded by the bloodlust you feel with your prey before you.

This isn’t your first time up in Cochinay, so you know full well the many tunnels feeding through the mountains. While they most likely provide shelter for the gang, they also offer a means of escape if need be.

You can’t let him get away.

With that said, you know exactly which paths to take to catch up. The bastard never even bothered to learn the best route to escape you soon realize. He was far too confident that nothing could take him down.

Big mistake.

It’s ironic how he took your father from you before your very own eyes, and then your mother’s soon after. Yet now, in the face of the one who got away, all he can feel is fear.

If your father is watching past the clouds in the skies, he’d be proud to know how far you’ve come and how close you are to avenging him. He raised you to outshine him in every way, and with this ─ you’ll finally have closure.

You fire a warning shot past the outlaw’s head and into the rocky formation.

“Turn around,” you demand, your voice cold as the ice clinging to these very mountaintops.

He does so, his voice quivering as he yells, “You can’t kill me!”

You kiss your teeth. “The hell I can.”

“You ran when I gutted your parents; I’m not afraid of you!” A lie, evident in his demeanor that’s starting to crack under the pressure.

“And yet you’re doing the same,” you scoff, further adding a manic laugh ─ Sukuna’s influence, taking hold. “The difference between you and me is that I never ran because I was scared.”

“Liar,” he spits, but you ignore him to continue.

“I ran to live another day. To roam this beautiful earth doing damn well what I please because I’m free!” You pause, taking aim with your gun. “You won’t be taking anything else from me.”

“Watch me.”

He moves to draw his gun from his hip, but you’re faster. You’ve always been faster.

Click.

Widened eyes and a look of shock replaces your features. You’re out of ammo.

That moment of weakness is enough for the outlaw to fire his own round, and it hits ─ igniting your arm with fiery pain.

“Got you now, bitch!” He charges at you and grapples your waist, sending you down into the cold stone, hard. The force knocks the wind right out of you, but you can’t lose yourself now. You got lucky with his mistake, but the next will cost your life if you don’t start fighting back.

You’ve angered him with your words, and now he wants you to suffer.

He has you on the defensive against his blows, pounding at you with his fists. “I’m not afraid of you!” he shouts between his onslaught, one landing right over your injured arm, raised as a shield. “I’ve been running this gang since before you were born. I can always rebuild and conquer again!”

He poses his fist high in the air to strengthen the next blow, and in your weakening state, you’re not sure you’d be able to handle it.

“Give your father my regards,” he says with finality, only for that very hand to rupture at the sound of thunder rocking the mountain in turn. You lift your head up to see Toji ─ a rolling block rifle in his hands, giving you the opening needed to finish this once and for all.

You reach for the gun still bound to the outlaw’s holster, turning it on him. “Won’t have to… because you’ll be seeing him first,” you chuckle, pulling the trigger.

As it turns out, this revolver belonged to your father. A fitting way to take revenge.

The tunnel is painted red with your words, sealing the outlaw’s fate. His limp body falls forward overtop your own, the light gone from his eyes. Toji rushes over, easily lifting the dead weight from you.

“What did I say about sticking close?” he scolds, offering you a hand to lift you up. “Could’ve gotten yourself killed; you know that? Unbelievable.”

“You sound like my dad,” you tell him while laughing before he flicks you on the forehead.

Looking down at his future paycheck, he sighs, but then cracks a smile that shows nothing but joy.

“You did it, cowgirl. How’re ya feelin’?”

“Relieved,” you say; relief from knowing the cause for your traumatic past is lying in a pool of his own blood at your feet. “Although I did get shot,” you add. The way you say that makes it sound like it’s a daily occurrence.

He flicks you again for that.

“Come on,” he drawls with a hefty sigh. “Let’s go raid their shit so we can patch you up.”

The moon is high in the sky as you sit along the edge of a wagon, an oil lantern providing enough light for Toji to work. Thanks to the bastard’s shaky hands, the bullet missed its mark, narrowly grazing your arm instead of anything important. You’ll live, but you need a few stitches to close the wound.

“Gonna tell me now what you was going on in your head?”

“I don’t know what you mea– ow, watch it!” You wince when he tugs the thread a little too hard.

He mumbles a haphazard apology. “Don’t play dumb with me ‘cause I know you’re not. Twice today you could’ve gotten yourself killed.” He sounds annoyed telling you all this, but it’s coming a place of worry, whether you believe it or not.

“I’m not used to relying on others,” you admit after a minute of silence, taking a shot of some liquor to dull the pain in your arm and soul. As expected, this camp is riddled with various bottles and supplies ─ all free for the taking now.

“You don’t say,” he teases, and you shoot him a glare that he laughs off.

The next several minutes are spent in silence, admiring his handiwork. The needle and thread appear comically small in his hands, yet he offers a delicate touch. It’s safe to say this isn’t the first time he’s had to stitch up a wound, and you appreciate not having to do it yourself.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve learned not to rely on anyone either,” he tells you, his eyes flickering up to meet yours. The flame of the lantern burns bright in his eyes, reflecting amber tones mixed in a forest of green.

“I’m starting to get the feeling you have your own troubled past,” you muse, hissing at the final few tugs of the stitching.

“You don’t say,” he says again, that flirtatious tone from earlier returning. The gruffness of his voice ─ so close to your body ─ has your eyes fluttering back. His body being the only source of heat amidst the chilling air of the nighttime hours makes you wish to be closer, to embrace that heat.

He wraps a bandage nice and snug around your arm, dropping his hands to either side of your body, effectively caging you. You could shuffle away as there’s nothing but empty space behind you, but why leave the fire for the cold, when you instead could stoke the flames?

“Was there something else you wanted to say?” you ask in sultry tune, turning your head slightly to the side.

Toji moves closer, his eyes never leaving yours for even a second. His nose brushes against your neck, shamelessly taking in your scent. One hand moves up your arm, lingering on the side of your head, supporting its weight for better access.

“No,” he whispers against your ear, relishing in sound that involuntarily leaves your lips. So sensitive, he thinks to himself, and oh how he’s going to enjoy that soon. “There’s somethin’ I’d like to do though.”

Your hand comes up to meet his chest, bundling the fabric and urging him down to you. “Yeah?” you whisper back into his ear, smiling against his skin. “And what would that be?”

He chuckles, pulling back to see the look on your face when he tells you. You can see the desire building in his eyes, the lids half-narrowed, ready to swallow you whole into oblivion.

“You.”

You take your hand away from his chest, moving slowly down until reaching his belt, grinning all the while. “Well, aren’t you bold? I can’t say I’m not thinking the same way.”

Toji holds your wrist securely in his hand, pulling it further down his body. He pleasingly groans when you comply by palming him over his dark denim jeans. He lets go of your wrist in exchange for your head, clumping your hair together and fervently directing your lips to his.

It’s a heated exchange, but not the ravenous sort with tongue and teeth mangling together. In return, he bruises your lips with power hungry kisses ─ frenzied with passion and longing. His other hand lowers itself near the apex of your thigh, the tightness of his grip changing with the pressure of your hand against his core.

He's huge, that much is certain. What a lucky girl you are to keep finding such delectable men in only a few days time.

Finally, he lets go of your mouth, allowing you the chance to breathe in shared air. “Take it out.” His voice is deepened and straining, with a sense of underlying urgency.

While you’re messing with his belt, he looks down on with a sinful stare, treasuring the near desperation in how fast you’re trying to get to him. Your reaction to its size is priceless, a sight that never disappoints, and he’s not even fully hard yet.

“My turn,” is all he says before his hands are on you. You hope the sound of fabric ripping is all in your hand, or maybe a twig snapping in the distance (it’s not).

The two of you then share a moment of reverence for the other, tracing each other’s body and sex as if committing to memory a divine work of art.

“So pretty,” he praises, trailing a finger between your folds. “And so wet for me, too,” he sighs breathily, eyes fluttering shut when you let out another angelic sound.

You place your hand back around his cock, feeling his hip stutter in response, rutting once into your hand. Using his free hand to balance himself, Toji descends again upon your lips kissing more sloppily with the growing ecstasy. He throws his head back when you tease the spot just under the tip before throwing himself back onto you ─ swallowing up every whimper and moan when his finger finally pushes its way through.

His finger ─ thick and calloused ─ curls inwards over that sweet spongy spot, forcing your back into an arch, demanding you to ride his knuckles for more.

“Toji,” you mewl with an air of arousal peaking; a plead, for him.

He adds another finger making you gasp in response, and he uses this opportunity to dip his tongue far into your mouth. The flavor is intoxicating, an unhealthy mix of aged rum meeting his preferred brand of cigarettes ─ the ones with the series of cards to collect.

Gambling was always one of his favorite hobbies, and he’s glad to have gone all-in on you. For once, it worked in his favor, and now you’re coming undone by the very hands dealing the cards to win.

Your hands start to shake when he adds a third finger, stretching you out from the inside while rolling a thumb along your clit. Your grip around him quivers, drawing out a resounding groan. Despite how big and intimidating he is, it all ends the same when they’re wrapped around your finger. Needy, and with such pretty noises that are music to your ears.

The kiss breaks, but only enough to breathe while your tongues remain tied together for a few seconds longer. He presses his forehead to yours, pupils blown, staring right into yours. Beads of sweat fall along your cheeks, cooling your heated skin. The alcohol in your system works not only to numb any pain but also to help enrapture your body, flushing your cheeks a cardinal tone.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” he asks, curling his fingers again making your whole body twitch. His cock does the same, leaking heavily with beads of cum. You can feel his veins practically beating at the same pace of your heart.

“Fuck ─ I could ask you the same thing.”

“Go on then,” he chuckles, trying to hide how shaken up he is. You hardly need to do much of anything with your hand as he starts jerking himself on you without shame. His lips return to your ear, biting at the lobe when he whispers, “Cum for me.”

Your jaw falls slack with the euphoric feeling. Your body spasming around his fingers, clenching with no remorse for his trapped fingers. With that, Toji can’t hold himself back from letting lose onto your hand, spilling out a heavy load of white.

The stars overhead are but a blur to you now in your high, a mere backdrop to the heaven on earth feeling coursing through each of your veins.

He pulls back from your body, grinning when he hears you whining at the loss. The real show has yet to even begin, this foreplay merely the opening act for a night to remember.

You watch as he takes those same three fingers, wet with slick, and runs them each into his mouth. His eyes closing with a heavy sigh as he indulges in your taste.

“Mhmm, so sweet.” He drinks up your reddened look, another spark of arousal hitting you at the sight of his joy.

You can’t help but do the same when you notice the mess in your hand ─ raising it up so you too can partake in this flavorful exchange.

That grin on his face grows even wider than before. “Beautiful,” he praises breathlessly. “Now come here.” He beckons you by curling those same fingers that were inches inside you mere moments ago.

Effortlessly, Toji lifts you up and off the wagon, leaving behind the only source of light as he walks you to some bedrolls he laid out earlier in anticipation of spending the night.

He kisses you gently this time ─ the calm before the storm about to come. While doing so, he removes the remainder of your clothes thus freeing your chest to his eyes. You do the same for him, one button at a time until all that’s left is the statue of a god, adorned with many scars that map history across flesh.

Another moment of reverence, from one godlike figure to another.

“Turn around. On your knees.” He watches you wordlessly obey, shifting himself behind you. With two hands on either side of your hips, he raises you up into his full view. The sight of your cunt glistening with fluid is captivating, inducing a sense of frenzy.

He kisses you there first, then draws a stripe with his tongue before burying it between the velvet lining. A prelude for what’s to come, once he’s quenched his thirst. You can almost cum again just from that, but he stops just in time to keep you riled up.

“Just fuck me already, Toji,” you say, a mix of warning and urgency on your tongue.

His palm meets the globe of your ass, not enough to hurt, but enough to be known and shock your body. “And how do you ask?”

“Please?” you reply, matching his mocking tone.

“Good girl.”

Next thing you know, his tip is hot against you, rubbing loosely between your folds. You jolt when it grazes your clit, groaning with anticipation. But before you can utter another word ─ another plead ─ he bullies his way inside, stretching you more than his fingers possibly could.

A burning pain hits you from the sudden intrusion. “Fuck!”

“There, there,” he coos, one thumb over your clit. “You wanted me, so take it.”

He watches with marvel at how his cock disappears into your cunt, his whole body shuddering in reaction.

“’S too much, Toji.” Hell, he and Sukuna are in their own tier when it comes to size.

“Shh, you’re almost there, sweetheart.” He grunts feeling you tighten around him, so eager to please and be praised. “I could get used to this.”

A few moments are all you get to steady yourself before he’s moving. His hands gliding along every curve, mark, and dimple gracing your back, tracing up your spine and back around to your hips. As his pace increases, so do his sounds. Each thrust is accompanied with deep, heavy sighs and salacious groans.

“You like this, huh?” His words barely register in your ears, too drunk off the way his cock hits your cervix with each thrust. He leans down, hunching over your back while at the same time snaking an arm around to your front. “What h-hahppened to your words, sweets?” A whimper catches in his throat. “Where’s that pretty voice callin’ my name?”

“Toji!” You cry out feeling his sharp, wolfish fangs burying themselves in your neck. One hand holding you at your stomach right over where his tip reaches, and the other loosely around your throat in a show of a dominance.

“What was that?” He sneers against your ear, his breathing growing more erratic by the second. “Gotta speak up and tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” you moan, drool spilling out the sides of your mouth.

“Who?”

“Y-you ─ Toji.” Another moan, higher pitched than before.

“Again,” he growls.

“Toji, Toji, ‘Oji-ahh!”

You keel over in his hold, violently shaking as an orgasm tears through your body like lightning. Wetness gushes out from you, rolling down your thighs and onto his lap.

“So fucking good ─ shit.” His arms tighten and he leans his weight further into you, pushing your body into the bedroll with only one thought in his mind. “You gonna let me fuck a baby into you?” He moves the hand on your stomach down to your clit, inciting the bundle of nerves with rough circular motions that serve to overstimulate you. “You’d like that?”

“Yes, yes! Please!” you whine as he forces you straight into another orgasm. With how sensitive you are, all coherent thoughts are erased except for Toji, Toji, Toji. In this pursuit of pleasure, he’s all that matters.

“Good fucking girl,” he growls, his voice straining, “Now take it!”

With one final cry of his name, warmth floods your body. Your nails dig into the sheets, uncontrollably squirming in a puddle of drool, cum, and slick. For a moment, you think you may have even passed out, because next thing you know, you’re on your side still wrapped in Toji’s embrace. His cock still several inches deep, with no apparent hurry to pull out.

The two of you lay like this for some time, coming down from the high mountaintops of euphoria. Black and white spots in your vision slowly morphing back into stars and the picturesque view of the Milky Way galaxy watching over you both. No words need to be shared. This is all you desire.

You never thought that one out of blue trip to a town like Valentine could jumpstart a whole new chapter in your life, subsequently closing the pages of old, tossing it to the flames. You never outright planned on taking revenge on the man who tore apart your family, but knowing you were there to see him crumble in his final moments brings a sense of tranquility you haven’t felt for some time.

Wherever you go from here, you know that it’ll work out. The future is in your hands ─ a frontier of its own, now ready to be explored without regret.

You wake the next morning to Toji brewing a pitcher of coffee over the campfire. He hears you stirring from sleep, turning his gaze to yours with a content smile. There’s no arrogance or lustful feature ─ only a type of calm you see best at dawn.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

“Morning,” you respond with a yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Your voice is both thick with sleep and hoarse from screaming one man’s name a dozen times over.

He chuckles amusingly, pouring you a fresh hot cup. “Sleep well?”

Well, besides the whole-body ache… “Like a baby,” you tease. It’s a miracle your stitches didn’t open up once.

You take your time to enjoy the coffee and the morning view. Dawn always looked best up in these mountains with the cascading trees and fields of sage. If you close your eyes, you can hear all the familiar calls of birds and other wildlife mingling ─ the forest teeming with life at every inch.

“When we get his body back to town, that reward money’s all yours,” he says, while standing to stretch his limbs.

You shake your head. “Don’t bother, I got my revenge. That’s all I really wanted.”

Toji can’t be too upset at your words, it’s more money for him. He was already going to happily sell whatever he could find in all these dead outlaws’ pockets for his efforts, anyways.

“Ain’t that a shame.” He places a hand on his hip, green eyes cast down at your form.

“You know, we make a good team,” he starts up again after a brief minute of silence. “You ever thought about becoming a full-time bounty hunter?”

He flashes that devious smile of his once more, his sharp canines poking through when he curls that scarred lip upwards.

“Not a bad offer,” you hum, “Especially after last night.”

It’s honestly a thought you’ve had from time to time. There are always outlaws to hunt and money to make; you’ve done it before and if yesterday proved anything, it’s that you can handle yourself even when pitted against an entire gang.

As it stands, there are several options open to you now, with many possibilities for how life will unfold from here on out.

“So what do you say, cowgirl?”

☆ Notes: I’d like to thank past me for coming up with the dad lore in earlier chapters on the spot, because I honestly didn’t expect to make it a whole theme for this chapter until I started writing it. Gonna be sad though seeing this series end soon, but I’ve got a dozen more stories I plan on writing, and I’m always open for more cowboy content in the future :)

Also, just to throw in my own little headcanon with the forehead flicking and all… you always see Megumi smacking Yuji or whoever when he’s scolding, and I like to imagine he got that from Toji or maybe even Mamaguro since Toji’s strong enough to take it (not in the domestic violence sense, but you know what I mean?)

[dcextremefan]

The Writer - Gotham Knigths Jason Todd x reader - Part 1

Warning: I'm writting the reader as a female character because it's been a LONG time I don't write self insert, but you guys can consider the reader as gender neutral too. And there is some Arkham references haha :3 Hope you enjoy it :)

(Y/N) - Your Name

(L/N) - Last Name

Living in Gotham City is a mix of a lot of things, it can be fun, but also can be dangerous. Night crimes, gangs and thiefs, but thank God that in Gotham City there are still heroes who are willing to protect us from any danger.

I was sitting down while drinking my coffee at Pauli's Diner (Arkham Knight reference hehehe), writting something on my notebook until the waitress came serving more coffee.

"Thank you, miss Jones" you smiled at the blondie lady

"you're welcome, and please just call me Sharon, sweetie. You come here ever since you were a college student" Sharon served coffee

"times really pass so fast and I'm almost finishing my novel"

"That's why you need more coffee, and by the way, havin' a boyfriend or girlfriend?" Sharon asked with a smirk

"aah Sharon. You know that I feel awkward with these kind of relationships ever since I graduated"

"I know I know, darling. If you need something just call me. Oh, and tell your parents that I said 'hi' too"

The waitress left the table, you just needed some more minutes to finish writting, your novel it's a romance between an important angel with a human who is an apprentice of the most dangerous sorcerer on earth (yeah, it's a reference of my Mortal Kombat OCs account), and they have a chemistry between them even tho their romance is forbidden.

The angel is a hero while the human is seen as a villain by the whole society, you were about to finish your novel until some thugs entered into the diner.

"Everybody! Get down" said one thug

You quickly turned off your notebook and hide in your backpack, everyone including you got down on the ground. The big guy who was holding the gun was searching something, or better, someone. He was kicking the tables until he found you.

"found ya. You know why we are here!" said the tall thug

"I-I don't what you're talking about" you answered while stuttering

"liar. There were rumors about you, you just need to give what we want"

One of the thugs who is a female, spotted your backpack and took off your notebook

"this seems to be so important to you" the female thief said

You tried to grab your notebook back, but tall guy pulled you by your hair

"Let her go" the Red Hood has arrived, "You guys have enough courage to taunt an innocent writter"

"Get him!" the female ordered

The thugs started to fight against the Red Hood, none of them were so as skilled as the vigillante, he dodges all their punches and he used his double guns to shoot at them. He impeds the woman and he got her uncoscious. The Red Hood grabs your notebook and give back to you.

"Thank you, Red Hood" you grab your closed notebook

"you know why they were threating you?" Red Hood asked in a serious tone

"I- I have no idea, I was just minding my own business here writting my novel until these thugs came in"

"you're safe now, be careful when you're writting on your computer outside your home"

"I'll listen to your advice, thanks again, Red Hood"

And with that, the Red Hood flies away with his grappling gun, you grabbed your notebook, put it inside in yout backpack, paid Sharon for the coffee and then left the diner.

At the morning, Jason Todd, the Red Hood that saved (Y/N) last night, was helping Barbara with the breakfast.

"hmm so you saved a writter yesterday" Barbara broke the silence

"what?" Jason lifted his head towards the girl

"c'mon Jason, you saved (Y/N) (L/N) last night, a writter of my favorite romance"

"how do you know that?"

"she posted on her writting blog" Barbara showed her phone to Jason, he saw your writting blog. An official page about your books and updates, sometimes you even write about your everyday routine.

"woah, never knew she is that famous. But I don't get it-" Jason got interrupted by Dick Grayson who came along with Tim Drake

"good morning! Who's my favorite little batsiblings doing?" asked Dick with a playful tone of voice

"haha very funny, Dick" Jason elbowed Dick's arm

"you guys saw the (Y/N)'s writting blog?" asked Tim Drake showing his tablet, he is also a big fan of your romance

"yeah, Jason Todd- oh I mean, the Red Hood saved her at the Pauli's Diner yesterday at night" Barbara grabbed Jason's shoulder

"seriously, I started to get jealous of you. I always wanted her autograph" Tim pouted

Jason continued to cut the bread and his siblings noticed his serious face.

"looks like you're not in the mood today. Are you okay?" Dick asked him

"it's weird that last night instead the thugs rob the Diner, they decided to assault that innocent woman for some reason. Quite weird, right?" Jason said

Dick, Barbara and Tim looked at each other with a suspicious look

"and did she say the reason about why?" Dick asked

"no, all she said is that she was minding her damn business while writting her novel" he responds

"but do you remember what the thugs have said to her before you arrive?" Tim ask

"They said there were rumors about her and she just need to give what they wanted" Jason respond Tim's question

"hmm" Barbara thought for a minute and she went to her computer

"what are you doing?" Jason asked

"I'm trying to locate (Y/N)'s through her phone since she posts a lot by it, and you might investigate what's her business" she responded

"soooo... like a stalker?" Tim asked

"no, Tim. Not like that, but if there are rumors about her, I think it wouldn't hurt for us to investigate" Barbara chuckles

Jason sighs while scratching his head and put his hands on his hips

"alright then. Let's do this"

TO BE CONTINUED!

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Convenience Store Vampire, part 10 — Epilogue

Part 1, Part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

Dusk settled on Luxatia like a comfortable cloak. I reclined on my chair, closing my eyes.

It had been a long, long day. Mrs Vaceni was deeply suspicious about my assurances that nothing had gone awry, despite me desperately trying to convince her that she had dreamed our conversation on the phone. She had almost resorted to checking the security cameras, when I made a desperate bid for safety and locked my gaze with hers.

Now, if you know anything about vampires, you'll know we can mind control humans. And that was exactly what I did, before I deleted the security tapes. (I know, it was exactly what would get me in trouble with the exorcists, but what else was I supposed to do? She would report me for hiding Mizu in an instant!)

Now, however, it was finally over. I let out a sigh of relief.

That was when Mrs Carter came tottering in. “Good,” she said, when she saw me. “You're still here. Remember when I told you about my littlest? Well, she made a surprise visit, and I decided to let her meet you!”

I straightened up automatically, my hands fixing my shirt. It was not formal, or flattering, by any means, but I suppose it was perfunctory. “That sounds lovely,” I told her.

“Great! Vicky, come and meet Davey,” Mrs Carter said. She ushered a woman, tall, tan and athletic, in. "Vicky here's an exorcist, but don't let that fool you! She's a sweet little moonmallow, just like you."

I choked on my own breath as Lieutenant Viccenia Carter, the same woman who pointed that damn gun at me, walked into my store. She recognised me at the same time I did her, and my stomach dropped. From her look of horror, she felt the same way.

Mrs Carter, seeing our faces, said, with innocent cheer, “So, you two know each other? How lovely!”

“Yeah, we do,” Lieutenant Carter said, her voice oddly calm. “Listen-”

“I do not want to listen!” I slammed my hands against the counter. “Get out of my shop, please!” Oh, dear gods, what had I done to deserve this? Of all people, why did the trigger happy psycho cop have to show up just as my shift was ending?!

“I need to apologise,” Lieutenant Carter explained. “You saved Mizu's ass just now.”

I froze. “I do not know what you are talking about,” I replied, most unconvincingly. 

Lieutenant Carter pursed her lips. “You pulled a ghost out of my colleague's corpse just now, and you used that psychotic little spirit to hide his scent from us. I have to admit, it worked. I'm surprised a failure of a vampire like you could think it up.”

I glared at her. “If it had worked, you would not be here right now. So, what do you want?”

“I don't want anything, Dave, except to apologise. You did good protecting Mizu, and… It's against policy, but I'd like to thank you somehow. For protecting my friend from my stupidity. If you'd like to go for a meal sometime…” She trailed off, as though having just realised how ridiculous she sounded, asking the man she just tried to kill out on a date.

I sighed. “Sure. Why the hell not?” After all, it was not as if my day could get any weirder, right?

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Well, that's done! Hope y'all enjoyed it :) I'll probably do a high fantasy next, so for those of you who are on the CSV only taglist, I'll only tag you if you ask me to.

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii

CSV: @wifeblade, @trippingpossum (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[fishermcn]

There was a woman among Sam's fellow Fishermen with too green eyes that glittered like gemstones and a head shaved to show of the scars of the beast that nearly bit clean through her skull. A lean, mean thing with a fire in her belly that roared twice as tall as she, they called her Carrion not only for being the best baiter among their so-called guild but likewise for how easily she handled their ornery messenger birds.

(Was Carrion that first called him Crow. Told him hearing him croak out a sentence was twice as fine as smelling the smoke and gun oil wafting off of him, and just laughed and laughed when Sam asked if the bärgeist had eaten her good looks along with her common sense with that bite it took.)

Maybe that's why they fell in so easily afterwards, always trading barbs and jostling blows where with anyone else they'd draw steel or let their fists fly if they so dared. Might've been just knowing their own worth within the Fishermen; that no one with any lick of sense would ever want to take her spot as the next to draw a wasserwulf pack into a trap, nor would they ever want to try and muck about with the man that made their blackpowder bombs for their own peace of mind.

Wouldn't explain the long evenings talking about nonsense things, though. Things like owning a little house in Saltpier, where the thrum of people and endless lanternlight kept the lurkers at bay; things like him muttering lowly about a mother whose face he can't recall no more or her about a sister she always meant to go and see. Didn't explain them saving a bullet for one another when the hunts went on too long and the promise of escape wore too thin, nor the way she'd tilt her head towards him and doze a while to the sounds of his tinkering.

Couldn't explain it any other way when they staggered back to the Fells after seeing a dozen men dragged beneath waves and set aflame without ever coming back up, coated up to their necks in stinking mud and black blood yet still reaching for one another. Desperate, hungry, grateful as they ran roughshod over one another to forget for even a few hours what all they'd done and seen that night, and the chance to leave it all in that evening lost when they woke tangled up together and didn't so much as move.

("Carline," she'd muttered into his collar bone, trailing her fingers along the press of his ribs. "My sister called me Carline. Ain't no family name though."

"Samuel Whist." He'd croaked back, settling his chin over her head and counting the teeth marks etched into her skin. "Can have mine, I reckon.")

She gave him a tinderbox with their names etched into the inside, promising with a grin on her scarred lips and another in those emerald eyes she'd teach him to read it whenever he got around to taking a knee. He answered with a gold ring slipped around her finger and a chuckled drawl, asking if she were too impatient to wait the year he'd need to get one of his own.

Didn't have a year, though. Not when the Great Hunt finally came to pass, and not when the Daughters joined together in a dread choir to rouse their mother, the Queen Below rising to drag the isle into the depths as once She swore to. There weren't time for anything more than gunfire and bloodshed, for watching the dead sink only to swim back to the surface with the faces of friends or foes but speaking as Her voice... and when Saltpier burned and the sky and sea alike splintered like shards of glass before Her approach, there wasn't any time left at all.

("Don't." Never once has she ever heard him beg, not for anything. Never once had she seen the grey slate of his eyes so alive, so warm as they are now here at the end of everything they'd ever known. Struggling to stand, to so much as speak over the press of Her against reality, Sam shakes. "Please.")

("I'd have liked it." Carline grins, yet the fire of her is snuffed out by the furious storm and howling winds. Her gaze is cold, afraid for the first time he's ever seen as the axe in her hand slips from her grasp. "Carline Whist. It sounded like a good thing.")

Her tinderbox is enough to wound a thing they could've called a god, a cannon set alight to scar the Queen Below and send Her reeling back into the depths. Her pained, enraged throes are enough though, and the isle and all that'd endured for centuries is dragged down in Her wake, leaving behind only a man with a croak in his throat and too-stained hands... for the body of Carrion, of Carline, was likewise dragged into the abyss.

[midnight-moth-musings]

Rocket Queen

Captain John Price x mechanic reader, slight enemies to lovers

Part 2

---

If I say I don't need anyone, I can say these things to you

'Cause I can turn on anyone just like I've turned on you

I've got a tongue like a razor, a sweet switchblade knife

And I can do you favors but then you'll do whatever I like

John Price knows almost everything about everyone on base--part of his job as Captain is to always be informed. So when he walks into the cafeteria one morning and finds someone new sitting next to Soap and Gaz, he is utterly perplexed. He steals glances at the boisterous young woman engrossed in conversation with the two young men as he makes his coffee. Long, choppy hair frames her face wildly almost as if the tendrils have a life of their own. John searches for any clue as to her rank but finds nothing--the woman is dressed in black overalls with a grey long sleeve beneath them. Quite unprofessional, John tells himself. The edges of her shirt lift as she reaches over the table for pepper to reveal the swirling black ink adorning her wrists. She tilts her head back to laugh loudly--hair becoming messier by the second. What could possibly be so funny?

Here I am, and you're a Rocket Queen

I might be a little young, but, honey, I ain't naive

Here I am, and you're a Rocket Queen, oh yeah

I might be too much, but, honey, you're a bit obscene

The woman leaves the table seconds before John arrives--seconds before he is able to learn who she is. Soap and Gaz seem to notice the faraway look in their Captain's eyes and answer the question before he even has to ask it--

"You've never met the base mechanic, hm, Captain?" Gaz grins up at him in between mouthfuls of his food.

"Aye, she's proper fun." Soap winks, nudging Gaz with a laugh. John sits down next to the two and simply grunts in acknowledgment. He mentally takes note of this small bit of information--curious to learn more about this mysterious woman.

---

I've seen everything imaginable pass before these eyes

I've had everything that's tangible, honey, you'd be surprised

I'm a sexual innuendo in this burned out paradise

If you turn me on to anything, you better turn me on tonight

The sweet sound of Guns N' Roses blaring from an old speaker on my desk fills the garage as I work on the repairs of a Humvee that has seen far too much action in the field. Nonetheless--Gaz and Soap insist that its their favorite one, so of course I'll make sure the old beast is running until it falls apart. Dust and grease coat my arms in heavy strokes as if given by Van Gogh as I fiddle with the underbelly of the great beast above my head. I am jolted from my focus as a pair of boots walks into view from my place below the Humvee. I kick my heels to roll out on my creeper and wipe at the sweaty locks of hair sticking to my forehead.

"Music is a bit loud." I look up from my seat to see the unamused face of Captain John Price staring down at me.

I stand up with a grunt, wiping my hands on my overalls. The man standing before me crosses his arms as he still looks down on me. Damnit, why's he so tall? Makes him even more intimidating. I choke out a nervous laugh, ruffling a hand through my bangs. "Yeah, well, no one ever comes down here. Figured I could play my music as loud as I wanted."

Anxiety bubbles in my stomach as the man looks over me. "Right. Well, I wanted to come down here and introduce myself. Seeing as we haven't met before and you must be new. I'm Captain John Price." He holds out an arm and I take his hand, shaking it. His hand practically envelopes mine--squeezing tightly in greeting, before disconnecting.

"I've actually been here for five months." His eyes widen in disbelief at the revelation and I have to hold back a laugh. "Sergeant Y/N L/N, base mechanic, sir." We stand in an awkward state of silence for a moment--save for the blaring of my speaker. The captain glances pointedly at the speaker and I walk over to my laptop to pause the music. "Right, sorry sir."

He places his hands on his vest, gripping the straps tightly before stepping closer to me. "Interesting taste in music." He leans forward to glance at the screen of my laptop showing my playlist. I watch as his eyes flicker down the screen--before he nods in approval.

"Interesting? Is that good or bad, sir?" My words come out more defensively than I had meant for, but the captain's mouth quirks up as if trying to hide a smile.

Clear blue eyes meet mine when he turns to look at me and I find my heart skipping a beat. "Good." My cheeks heat up and I have to remind myself--this is your captain, pull yourself together. "I'll let you get back to your work then." He takes a few steps away before looking back over at me hesitantly. I watch as his eyes trail down my form and I suddenly feel self conscious of my ripped, greasy overalls. "I'd like for you to find a more...standard uniform."

My eyes immediately narrow and I cross my arms to stare back at him. "Standard uniform? I never realized mechanics were required to wear standard issue. Not many soldiers even follow that rule." The air between us thins as we lock into a stare.

Immediately, the captain's demeanor changes. I hold my breath as he grips the straps of his vest tighter--voice lowering an octave as he replies. "Are you questioning an order, solider?"

I bite back a snarky reply. "No, sir." The edge of his mouth twitches and I imagine I am about to receive a verbal warning--certainly not the first of my career. Instead, he simply nods. The captain turns on his heels and walks away--leaving my head spinning as to if I'm more irritated or intrigued by him.

---

Part 2 will be coming tomorrow. I wanted it to be one part, but I have a bit of a headache at the moment so I decided to post part of it :)

-P

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Top Spies Part 3/8

This chapter is so good, I'm really setting you up🤭🤭

Ruben and Reader are super spies, who have to pretend to be a married couple on vacation as a co-signed mission. A enemies to lovers fic, very sweet and funny!

Enjoy!

You woke up to somthing heavy pressing you down against the matress. Somthing heavy and warm.

"Ruben, get off me."

So he was a heavy sleeper. Not a very good trait for a crime fighting agent.

"Ruben please, I can't feel my legs."

A low grunt was the only sign of life coming from him. Trying to stirr him awake only made it worse. Ruben's grip around your body tightened as his face snuggled into the fabric of your shirt, which by the way, was starting to rise above your hips, revealing more of you than you ever wished for Ruben to see.

Suddenly there was heavy knocking on your hotel door.

"It's the hotel manager!" The voice behind the knock said. A female voice.

"Ruben, somone is..."

You had to say no more. Ruben's grip around your was gone and so was the weight of him. The knocking doors woke him up as if he had selective hearing.

"I'm sorry to disturb you this early Mr and Mrs Moreno, but it is very important!"

"Wait here." Ruben said, faster than you to get up and out of bed. His face looked sprung woke, his hair pointing in every direction. He ran a hand through it on his way to the door. You were right behind.

"I told you to wait in bed." He frowned.

"I'm not your real wife Ruben, don't tell me what to do."

He shook his head but stretched to open the door, revealing a tall woman dressed in suit and tie.

"Good morning Mr and Mrs Moreno. I am sorry to disturb your sleep this early in the morning, but I have received some very urgent information about your stay here at Resort de la Martinez.

"What information?" Ruben said, a hand held behind his back.

Who sleeps with a gun strapped to their sweatpants, you thought. Either way, the woman did not look the slightest intimidate by Ruben's lack of hospitality, the opposite really.

"If I may introduce myself Mr and Mrs Moreno, my name is Beatrice Sanchez the manger of this resort.

"Yeah, and what do you want?" Ruben frowned.

"My boss has requested to invite you to stay at his villa as his personal guests."

Ruben looked to you and you looked to him. He turned back to the woman. "I'll have to discuss this with my wife, thanks."

The woman lunged forward, preventing Ruben from shutting the hotel door in her face. "I'm afraid there won't be much of a discussion. My boss insists that you and your wife be his guests at the villa. He is very thankful for what you did for his nephew the other night."

Again, Ruben shot you a puzzled look. The boy who's life he had saved at dinner turned out to be the nephew to one of Portugals most infamous druglords.

"Our staff will have your things escorted as soon as you're ready, the woman, Beatrice, said. She bowed her head, leaving you and Ruben with no other option.

"What do we do?" You asked Ruben as he shut the hotel door.

"Call Captain Harlow. Tell him that there's been useful developments in our mission and that we need more equipment."

"More equipment? For what?"

He smiled. "Surveillance."

********************************************

"What now?" You asked.

Within days you and Ruben were moved into a lovely Spanish Villa at a private section of the resort. You had staff catering to you at all hours of the day and a car for you to use during the reminder of your stay. Although the offered luxury was tempting, you and Ruben stuck to your mission and spent most nights in the streets bugging the entire resort with cameras, microphones and movment sensors. During the day you were pretty much free to do whatever, most suspicious activity occured during night anyway.

"Let's go to the beach." Ruben yawned, stretching his arms above his head.

"The what now?"

"The beach. People need to see us do normal stuff together, otherwise they'll suspect that somthing is off."

He had a point. You hated that he had a point.

"Fine. Just give me a minute to pack my stuff."

"No need. Just grab a towel and take your clothes off. "

"Excuse me?"

Ruben grinned. "Didn't you read the signs on our way up here?"

"What signs?"

"There's only nude beaches around this private section. No bikini's allowed."

"What? That's ridiculous. "

"Those are the rules." He shrugged.

"Ruben, I'm not going to..."

"I'm joking." He chuckled.

You sighed in relief, tossing your bikini top his way. He caught it with one hand, twisting the fabric between his fingers before handing it back to you.

You had gotten to know each other very well, during the days you spent together. Contrary to your beliefs, Ruben could crack jokes. Lame jokes. However, some of them made you chuckle.

"I am going to the beach though." Ruben said. He had been down there every day since you moved to the villa. For some reason he was convinced that Alejandro Martinez kept a submarine near the Island. The best place to look was near the ocean.

"Then I am going to enjoy my day playing golf."

"You play golf?" Ruben questioned.

You grabbed your gloves and cap from your suitcase. "I'm a former junior champion, if you must know."

Ruben said nothing, although he looked impressed.

"Have fun." You said once the two of you went your separate ways.

Ruben walked to the beach as you took the car to the resorts own private golf course.

You stepped onto the lush green grass, clubs slung over your shoulder and your sunglasses perched on your head. You hadn't played golf for years, but this vacation/mission in Madeira actually allowed you to take up the sport that you loved so much.

As you made your way around the golf course, you couldn't help but notice the admiring glances of the other golfers. You were used to this kind of attention when you were younger, but today there was one man who caught your eye in particular. He was a tall and handsome stranger with piercing brown eyes and a charming smile. As you played your respective rounds around the course the man and you kept crossing paths, and he made a point to flirt with you shamelessly, despite you fake wedding ring. He seemed to be completely unfazed by the fact that you were married. In fact, he seemed to be drawn to it, as if the forbidden fruit was all the more tempting because of it. At first you were taken aback by his forwardness. You had never been one to encourage such behavior from strangers, and you certainly didn't want to risk anything that could potentially intrud the mission that you and Ruben had. However the man kept approaching you, forcing you to tell him off.

"Is your putt shot as awful as your pick up lines?"

The man laughed with his whole face, making him even more handsome.

"Is that a challenge?" He said.

You shrugged. "It's not a challenge when I know I'm gonna win."

The man looked to his caddie, nodding his head as to say that he was impressed. "Pepe hand me my putt." He ordered.

The caddie brought him his club, exchanging it for his iron seven. You stood ready to go, with the last hole within reach. You swung the club with ease sinking the ball right away.

"Impressive. " The man applauded. "If I sink the ball first try I'm taking you to dinner."

You smirked. He was slick, too slick for his own good. Successfully sinking the ball in the whole, the man turned to you, sporting a complement smile. "I guess dinner is on me. How about the restaurant near the marina?"

"Great, my husband and I will meet you there at seven."

The man laughed but stretched out his hand to shake yours. "Pleasure playing with you...."

"Y/N." You smiled. "Y/N Moreno."

"Alejandro Martinez." He said, causing your hand to go lump in his grip.

"Y...your...him."

"The owner of this resort? Yeah that's me."

But he was so young. Younger than you thought he'd be. He looked to be around fifty years old, but very fit for his age.

"You and your husband....you're staying at the villa with my family, no?"

"Um...yes."

You had a bad feeling about this. Alejandro Martinez was never known for spending much time at his resort, but here he was, enjoying a round of golf with you.

"Than we shall all see you again tonight." He turned your hand and kissed your knuckles. Heat rose to your face as you pulled away.

You couldn't wait to report all of this back to Ruben.

[summercourtship]

About the Kiss Drabble!!!

Can i ask for Vulpes Inculta? If yes can you do number 14?

14 - A kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished

Of course you can ask for Vulpes!! Generally, I’ll accept requests for any character I’ve written before. And I’m like… super excited to write him more, especially in an objectively sillier context than my actual vulpes x courier fic.  This ended up being slightly longer than the drabble length I had said but that’s okay lmao, I had a SCENARIO (it's like 1200 words). Anyway I love like... companion!vulpes scenarios/fics.

KISS DRABBLE PROMPTS

Vulpes was watching you struggle to climb over a fence, his arms crossed and eyebrows raised. He’d suggested multiple times that the two of you kept moving, although you knew that his motivation was to try and subtly corral you towards Cottonwood Cove without you noticing. You’d been successfully avoiding his attempts to get you to visit Caesar, but you could feel his patience wearing thin with every passing day that you continued to dodge his request. He just didn’t seem to understand why you didn’t want to visit the man whose entire ideology said that your only purpose in life was to have children.  

With a huff you swung your leg over the top of the not-particularly-tall fence, pulling yourself onto the other side before dropping onto the ground. 

“I think it would have been easier for you to try to find a hole.” He remarked. You waved your hand dismissively behind you, not bothering to look back at him. 

“That would take up too much time, I just want to check out these boxes.” You began walking to a gutted pre-war van not a few yards from the fence, with what was clearly an abandoned camp in front of it. The remains of a fire, an old bedroll, some crates, and a few ominous bloodstains sat in the shadow of the van, waiting for you to loot them. 

“So you said.” You ignored his comment, instead crouching by one of the crates and pulling out a bobby pin to try and open it. 

You had barely bent over when a force pushed you down, using the shift in your balance to easily knock you to the ground. You yelped, more from surprise than any pain, scrambling to pull out your weapon. But your assailant had the advantage over you and kicked it from your hand as soon as you had grabbed it. Distantly, you registered Vulpes cursing, though you were preoccupied with the woman above you. 

It appeared that a raider had been hiding in the van and decided to take the opportunity you presented. Luckily she was only carrying a rusty pipe as a weapon, which you were able to wrap your hands around and try to pull from her grasp. 

Then, as she yanked the pipe back from your hold, she sputtered and choked, looking down to where Vulpes was now pressing his ripper into her gut. You barely managed to roll away before she collapsed, dead. 

Shocked, you looked from the corpse to Vulpes. You didn’t even have it in you to make a snarky remark about how you could’ve handled her yourself. Instead, you could only muster a small laugh. “You saved me.”

He put the ripper away and the desert was silent without it's mechanical whirring.

“Caesar wants to see you.” He shifted slightly, almost uncomfortable as he looked down at you. “He would be disappointed if I let you die. Especially to a lowlife like that.” 

You stared at him for a moment longer before sighing and standing, brushing the dirt off of your pants. You grabbed your gun from where it had landed when the raider kicked it, placing it back at your side. “Well. I guess we should find somewhere to sleep, right?” 

Vulpes scaled the fence easily, landing on the other side in the matter of seconds. He turned back to look at you through the fence, frowning. “You cannot avoid Caesar forever.” 

“Once I have an actual reason to go down that way, I’ll pop by for a visit.” You began to climb again, the process slightly easier now that you had done it once. You could see him watching you, rolling his eyes. 

“You’ve been saying that for almost two weeks.” 

“And I haven’t had a reason to go down that way.” You dropped down from the fence. “You don’t have to travel with me.”

“I was told to bring you to Caesar.” 

“Then we’ll go on my time.” It was a conversation you’d had at least three times with him already, and it always played out the same. 

You walked with him, letting him lead the way (slightly) as you fiddled with your pip-boy and tried to grapple with your thoughts. Vulpes had killed someone for you. And even if his only motivation for doing so was because of Caesar, he still deemed your survival more important than anything.

Despite your desire to, you didn't dare sneak a look at him, sure that he would be able to feel your stare on his skin.

You only realized he had stopped walking when you almost ran into him. He was looking at you, expectantly, and you struggled to figure out what he had said before giving up and asking him to repeat himself. 

“Will this do?” He gestured behind him to a small shack. You nodded, pulling your gun and approaching. Once you had ensured that the inside was clear of any creatures or humans, you let yourself sit on the single dusty cot. Leaning back, you rested your head against the wall, letting your eyes shut. 

You could hear Vulpes moving around, placing his things down and investigating the cupboards and lockers, before his footsteps came to a stop. Then the cot dipped beside you. Startled, you opened your eyes to see him sitting in the exact same position as you, his head turned towards you. 

“I don’t like you-” You began, only to frown when he interrupted you.

“I’ve heard much worse.” 

“I’m not done.” You sighed, closing your eyes again. “I don’t like you, but I wanted to say thank you for saving me earlier.” 

“Like I said, it was for Caesar.”

“Oh really?” You opened your eyes again, leaning to look at him only to find him facing forward. He had a nice profile, you supposed, with strong features. 

“Yes, profligate.” He turned to look at you again, that same expression of annoyance that seemed to be on his face a lot when it came to you replaced by something that you weren’t able to discern. His eyes briefly looked down to your lips before snapping back to your eyes. But you’d seen it.  

And then you leaned forward, acting faster than your thoughts which were screaming at you that this was a bad idea, crashing your lips onto his. For a moment, he tensed and seemed like he was going to pull away from you before he pushed back against your lips, returning the kiss with a desperation you hadn’t expected. His hands rose to hold the sides of your head, threading through your hair to dip your face backwards as he shifted to practically drink you in.  

Maybe you would regret this when you parted, maybe you wouldn’t. You knew that this would have consequences- there was no way you made out with one of Caesar’s closest men and didn’t pay for it later. But right now, with his hands in your hair and your tongue swiping against his lips, begging for entrance, you couldn’t care less. 

You shifted, moving so you straddled his waist to deepen the kiss even further, opening your mouth and inviting him in. His tongue flicked against yours, pulling a whimper from your throat that you would certainly deny later. He groaned in response, moving his hands from where they’d landed on the sides of your face to wrap around your back, pulling you closer to him until your chest was pressed entirely against his. Your hands gripping his head, and you momentarily mourned the fact that his hair wasn’t long enough for you to pull or really grab onto. 

With a final gasp, you parted to catch your breath, panting. Despite no longer kissing, you stayed within a few inches of him as you breathed each other in, sitting in silence for a moment before he spoke.   

“Will you let me take you to Caesar now?”

“No.”