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kitmoas · 7 months

Text

in which prey becomes muse

Kate Bishop x Reader

Warnings: **18+** **Minors DNI** **SMUT** dark and demonic themes, death, possession, knife, stomach bulge, stalker stuff, slight "magic" things

If I missed anything let me know

Author's Note: I once am again sorry this is late, life man. BUT it is here and part of a nice little trick r treat vibe. so here's part 1 of the double feature for good ole Friday the 13th. Once again I apologize if it's rough. I am still MONTHS out of practice when it comes to writing, so I'm trying my hardest to get back into the swing of things and remember how to put my thoughts into good words. So bare with me.

Kitmoas | Necrosis Kitmoas | Navigation

Even now, up against the wall with her knife pressed against the thin stretch of skin above your rapidly beating heart, you can’t help but admire the way that the sunlight bounces off the golden handle or how the intensity in her dark blue eyes swirls in storms. The way she stands, the soft smirk pulling at her lips and the slight slouch of her shoulders, almost makes you feel relaxed. The warmth of her body is intoxicating as it shields you from the wind soaring through the air.

You had seen her so many times in your travels around the small town, across the road or in the diner. She was pretty much the talk of the town since she got here, everyone gossiping about the city girl who escaped to an old town. Something about her was so enticing, so enthralling; and though you knew you wouldn’t survive the encounter, you just had to take the chance as it was given to you. She was the definition of a heartbreaker, even from the way she carried herself on a day to day basis.

Falling into the trap that she set was easy. It was almost foolproof even before you realized what was happening. You wanted to be seen by her so badly that you didn’t realize that you were the reason that she even ended up in the dead-end broken down area. The young girl already had a bit of a history, and though you didn’t know what this meant you could tell she had traveled to many places and seen the world more than anyone you grew up with.

Despite your predicament, you wanted to know more—the mystery of the girl who not only knew who you were but was risking arrest to be near you. This should have scared you, and maybe deep down it did, but on the surface it just excited you. Your mouth had opened many times, jaw dropping and lips moving silently, as you tried to say something or ask any of your gnawing questions but you were stopped each and every single time.

There’s something in her eyes as you stare up at her, an almost unnatural glimmer. “Can your little mind not make up any words?” she husked, her voice raspy and deep as if she hadn’t spoken in months.

It's a simple first sentence, and you can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or taunting you, but you can’t help the blush that rises up your neck. Scrambling to find an answer in your mind, you just shake your head pathetically. Heart dropping as you see her smirk fall from her face, her lips falling into an annoyed straight line. The disappointment radiates in the cold air, chilling you to the bone and making you crave the heat that once emitted from the brunette.

“I suppose this isn’t much of a setback. I didn’t track you for this long just to hear you speak. I heard you’re quite the annoying one.” She watches you blink slowly, a squeak tumbling from your lips when she pushes your body back against the wall with the tip of her blade. “Isn’t that what Ms. Adovyn said? It was quite difficult to tell through all the screaming, but she had a lot to say about you and that was years ago.” The smug look twitches back across her face, stretching it entirely too far as she watches realization settle into your eyes.

Ms. Adovyn was your high school teacher, some arts class you took freshman year, who passed away just a year ago. It had shook the entire town after they found her body mutilated in her own secure home and not a single suspect to be named. Slowly you try to pull yourself from this haze of infatuation that you have found yourself in to try to put things together. There was no way that all the random unsolved murders and disappearances in the town were all linked to this girl. She was barely older than you and some of them went as far back as your childhood. The neighbor who used to babysit you was found skinned when you were just seven years old, but it was left an unsolved crime with zero traces of fingerprints or struggle.

A soft giggle from the girl looming over you snaps you out of your thoughts, and you gasp as you look into her eyes. Pure black with a pulsing cobalt light within, almost hypnotizing you as you struggle to pull your focus from her. “What? Don’t tell me my secret is already out?” Her hand moves, dragging the knife down your chest towards the neckline of your shirt. It leaves a thin, stinging red line, a few small crimson bubbles forming.

You shake your head slowly, confusion flooding your system as you try to fight whatever you can feel brewing in your stomach. Unsure of what she means by secret, you start to become hyper aware of where every single part of the girl is. Her hand is firm against your hip, thumb softly rubbing at the bone she finds there—too softly for how hard her nails dig into you. Her thigh rubs harshly against you so that she keeps you almost glued to the dingy brick wall. The fingers that have a claw grip on the glimmering handle dangle carelessly down your shirt.

Her face slowly turns up from where she was watching your body squirm to pout up at you. “Aww c’mon. I thought you would fight me more than this. Or are you so stupid to even realize what is happening?” The soft hair on the top of her head falls down in front of her eyes, making her look like an innocent puppy as she tilts it in questioning. “I thought after I waited for you for so long you would at least make this fun.” Growling under her breath as she leans in to nip at your collar, she bares her teeth at you as she pulls away. “Maybe you would come with a bit of a bite?”

When her thigh forces its way in between your own, her muscle pressing upwards, it starts to make sense. The warmth bubbling in your stomach is starting to almost feel painful, and the longer you feel her calloused hand on you, the more it confuses you. Trying to understand your own bodily reactions, you allow that heat to start manifesting in a thing you can control—anger. You weren’t sure where the sudden confidence in your vocal cords came from, nor the grit in your normally soft respectful voice. “What? Can’t get laid? You have to commit crimes for someone to fuck you?”

The girl’s eyes almost become a beacon of light, the cobalt flashing brilliantly as she lets her head fall back shrieking in laughter—a loud, rambunctious sound that blends in with the howling wind. “Well there’s your personality. You just needed to get touched a bit? Is your poor pussy being neglected?” Sneering at you, she lets her head roll back to look at you again. Licking at her lips, she sharply grinds her thigh up into you as she raises her eyebrow in questioning. “Do you need someone to make you feel all warm and wet? Someone to make you understand just how your cunt should be handled?”

Your mouth opens and closes as you stumble over your words, feeling someone’s hand touch between your legs for the first time with purpose. It wasn’t a surprise as to what she wanted, but you weren’t sure she would actually go through with it. She had kept you in the same spot for so long that your legs were tingling with exhaustion and your back was starting to ache.

Craning your neck, you try to look down at where the shiny blade pressed into your lower torso. The need to deny her was strong, and the urge to grapple for the control you were so used to ran deep in your veins, but something stopped you. A warmth that was building slowly, the center of it was rooted in your stomach. You wanted to ignore it, but it was there from the beginning and it only burned faster the more she touched you.

“Tell me, everytime I waited for you to see me, did you think of me that night? Every single time I made sure that you noticed me trailing you, did you touch yourself to the thought of me?” Her hand moved softly along your thighs, nails scratching at the tender skin she finds as she speaks through gritted teeth. It’s almost like she’s forcing herself to take it slow.

Shaking your head, you’re honest but you wanted to lie. How do you tell a beautiful girl that you just wanted the chance to speak to her, that you never once thought of her in a sexual way? There was no way that she would want someone so innocent that you had barely even touched yourself, right? Will she think you’re too much of a prude? Will she mock you for never allowing someone else to touch you?

The girl snorts, pulling away slightly to stare you down. Her eyes watch you carefully, hand placement a bit lighter than before as if she is almost testing to see if you’ll move. “Oh, oh! I get it. The pretty girl is a virgin, aren’t you?” Nose wrinkling as the devious smirk stretches her mouth unnaturally. Her gaze turns predatory, darkening as her nails dig aggressively into your thigh. “You don’t even know how to say no, do you? The perfect little thing for me to completely corrupt and ruin.” Her voice echoes the longer she speaks, raising as she gets more and more excited. Almost like a little puppy, hearing all their favorite words, she even begins to bounce on her toes slightly. “They told me you were the ideal person, absolutely exquisite, and they were utterly correct. You had to have been sent to me from some higher power, and all I had to do was listen to them.”

Blinking slowly, you weren’t even aware that you were being moved from the wall. The way she spoke was confusing, what did she mean by that? You were so lost in thought that you didn’t see the other girl’s change in demeanor. Twitching slightly, even letting the blade clatter to the dirty wet pavement below you, her body starts to contort. Muscles and bones stretching and cracking as she twists around.

It’s her hand gripping your throat, clawing as she lets her nails dangerously dig into the veins she finds there. Cutting off your oxygen immediately when she somehow body slams you to the ground, pressing her entire weight on your neck. Her knee digs into your thigh and forces her way in between your legs. **Popping her head directly in front of your face, and though you already couldn’t breath the way her appearance changed, causes an unsettling chill to overwhelm your body.** Eyes sunken in, completely glowing cobalt, and every ounce of color drained from her skin leaving her gray and her veins almost filled with ink.

Her hips grind down into yours, and her free hand gropes viciously at your breast. Stings of pain pulse through your body, and settle in your stomach as a low burn. Shame fills your brain as you realize what’s happening and how your body was reacting. “It’s okay, little girl, you were made for them and it’ll be me who gets to take you for them.”

Slipping her hand down your body, her nails somehow scratch into your side harsh enough to cut the skin it finds. Fumbling around for a minute, her hand finally catches on the hem of your pants. Ripping the fabric almost completely her smile turns feral at the sight of your lacy underwear. Her thumb clumsily rubs against the thinnest of the fabric that covers your cunt before her head pops back up, eyes almost glowing. “Oh, how silly of me. Why would I not tell you my name? My name came from the person who gave me my blessing, Keket, but you can just call me Kate.”

Your vision is blurry, twitching as you stare up at her. Back pulsing slightly from where the pebbles and dirt dig into, but it’s the way her fingers slip your panties to the side and swipe through your folds that makes focus difficult. The tip of her pointer pokes at your clit and it ignites something that you weren’t expecting. Arousal wasn’t something you felt often, and you didn’t even think that the warmth brewing in your body was that, but there was no denying the gush of wetness from her direct touch.

Cackling the young girl’s face almost morphs as she notices the change, allowing her finger to rub small tight circles on your rapidly hardening clit. “Such an innocent little virgin, who’s cum and blood is worth so much to the الألوهية.” Her voice deepens as she speaks, leaning more heavily against your throat. “Your body is theirs to own but for now this pure tight pussy is mine to stretch.”

Even though you wanted to ask what she was talking about, wanted to figure out who this girl was, you didn’t have the opportunity as she shoved two fingers into you in one go. The scream that tears through your teeth is muffled, barely there from the weight of her body against your neck. You can feel the pain throbbing from between your thighs and you’re pretty sure she tore something, but the moment her thumb comes up to caress your clit it’s almost like none of the pain matters. The warm arousal floods your system and begins to push out the pain.

Her hand thrusts, vigorously, and it causes your body to move along the ground. You can feel the pavement and all the random things beneath you scratching at you, leaving bright searing burns. “God, you were born to take this and you’ll take more. Won’t you?” She’s leaning up over you now, a brief relief as she allows you to take gasping breaths.

It takes a minute for the oxygen to spread throughout your body, and it does nothing but fan the flames within your tummy. Rough and tender, you take your time to inhale as you try to calm down. You wanted to gain control over the situation, but you knew that you were even rapidly losing authority over your own bodily functions. When her calloused fingers rub against a spot inside you, you can’t help your hips rutting up into her thrusts. It indirectly motivates her and she leans down some so that she spit on your clit. Playing for a moment, and stuffing the spit inside you, she practically growls as her body flops onto you.

“You feel so tight around me, so fucking wet. I bet you’ll feel even better around my cock. Tight little slutty cunt letting just anyone take her virginity.” Her fingers move faster inside of you as she bites into your neck. The sharp nips dig into where your sensitive skin is already bruising from her hand, as her hips push her fingers even deeper into you. You can’t help the moan that slips through your lips, and the way you start grinding down into her.

Letting your eyes slip closed, you finally allow yourself to try and enjoy what was happening. This was your first time and while it wasn’t how you envisioned it, Kate is a gorgeous woman and you were surprised she even wanted you. You’re still a bit confused by how she was talking but you knew that many people were into roleplay so maybe that’s what was happening. Her strength came as a shock and even her appearance seemed weird, but everyone wanted her and you got her.

“If I was you, I would focus whore.” A harsh slap lands on your cheek, slamming the side of your face into the ground as she demands your attention. Her fingers had abandoned their post in between your legs and instead she was grinding her own hips there, a bulge prominent. It felt nice but you were confused as you tried to blink the stars from your vision. “Ready or not princess, I’m about to own you.”

She barely finishes her sentence when she snaps her hips, and something is forced into you. You weren’t quite sure what it was, but it filled you overwhelmingly. It rubbed against that spot inside of you that forces a whine from your throat, and for the first time you cling to her. Arms swing instantly so that your nails dig into her biceps. It was too much and not enough all at once, and you weren’t sure how to feel. You wanted her to do whatever she wanted, but you knew that was exactly what she wanted.

Hips rutting into you, she lets her hands fall to your stomach to allow her thumbs to press into the bulge she finds there. “Do you see that little girl? You see my cock so deep inside your stupid little cunt? It’s leaking all over the place, even if most of it is blood.” She shrugs as she moves her hips, staring down at the way you stretch around her almost obsidian fog appendage. The bright red blood coats it and makes it seem as though it isn’t practically nothing, just a temporary blessing from the higher power to give an advantage to it’s chosen vessel.

Her voice shoves you closer to the edge, rough and rumbly as she humps you like a dog. You wanted her to touch you more, something triggering in your brain to miss her touch. She leaves her hands where they are though, a knowing smirk spreading on your face when she sees you desperately starting to plead up at her. She knows the signs even if you don’t.

You have already started to tighten around her cock, easy to push towards an orgasm as she manipulates your body however she wants. She knew that you would be simple, even wet while she was roughing you up with a knife against your throat. It never took much for someone so pure, and she knew that she had to act fast as well. Letting her hips rut into you at a speed that shouldn’t be able, but the spirits helped her along.

“Do you want me to touch you? You want your stalker to touch you?” She hums, tilting her head as if she wasn’t even physically exerted. Her hair messy and moving all over the place as she forces herself into you more. “Does your little cunt need my touch to cum?”

Nodding you let yourself succumb to her actions, the want to fall over the edge becoming too great now. The coil inside your stomach is almost searing hot and cracking. You didn’t want to give in, but you knew that she would never let you cum if you didn’t and for some reason you didn’t care. The more she shoved her cock into you the more delirious you got, your brain fuzzy and unfocused.

“Beg. Babble like the little slut you are and beg your stalker to take your body. They want to hear you beg like the bitch you are.” Her words are punctuated with a sharp snap of her hips, forcing you unwillingly over the edge.

Your vision completely fills with stars, blinding you as you scream. Kate hurriedly slams down into you, her body leaning fully on her arm that lays across her throat, to cover your mouth with her hand. She may be protected by the divine power, but she knew that suspicion could arise if people heard your screams and they were not one for attention. Pinching your nose closed she allows you to ride out your orgasm, body convulsing underneath her.

Entirely surrounded by not only her warmth, but the boiling heat within your own stomach, you try to push as much oxygen out through the small cracks in her hold on you. It was painful but she’s still rutting into you and pushing the cum to start leaking out of you. A small puddle forming below you the longer that she thrusts into you, and your eyes roll back completely until they slip shut.

Slowly Kate starts to pull out, leaning against your throat as she stares down at your red puffy cunt. It leaks cum and her own black almost molten cum. She hadn’t even realized that she was able to cum in you, solely focused on pushing you over the edge and keeping the blanket of security over the two of you. Blinking slowly she feels her body start to lighten, a sure sign that she did well and the authority was pleased. It all seemed to be going fine, her hand reaching down between your thighs to shove the wetness back into you, until a small crack echoed through the alley and her arm shifted downwards.

Cautiously the young girl looks up at you, your lips blue and parted. “Fuck, I’m so sorry محبوب الجماهير! It wasn’t supposed to go like this! I promise, I thought I did good.” Despite her panic, her body’s color drained and her eyes sunk into her head, the fog leaking out briskly as her jaw dropped open.

The next day not a single piece of evidence was found, just chunks of your skin stuck to a completely clean knife in a small cloud of dense fog.

The translates are roughly

--محبوب الجماهير! -- idol

--الألوهية--divine/divinity

(Shoutout to my girlfriend @themidnightcrimson--she edited the beginning part of this so if it got terrible at the end you now know why.)

#kitmoas | Necrosis #kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #dark kate bishop x reader #kate bishop fanfiction #kate bishop fic #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop smut #marvel fanfic

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rottingpirate · 1 year

Note

Hello I want to cowardly ask you for some light angst with könig if it's not a problem. I've been craving some sweet angsty comfort with the big guy

Maybe something happened during mission and he got overwhelmed and stuff and reader finds him and comforts him

I absolutely love your writing btw I'd marry you if I could

Staawp ily <3

Lucky to have you || König x M!reader

Warnings: sensory overload, emotional hurt/comfort

Wrong. Everything was wrong.

His hands started to shake as soon as he got off the helicopter. He wanted to disappear. To pretend like he wasn’t here and instead somewhere else. Not feel anything. He was so tired and all he wanted to do was get into his room and stay there forever.

He hated it, the talking, the whispering and murmuring, the bright lights of the base, how tight his shirt felt, the light smell of your cologne. He hated it all. Every little thing had gotten on his nerves today, from unnecessary words to his struggle in opening the cabinets to successfully completing the mission.

He was exhausted. The type of exhausted that just sleep couldn’t fix, the exhaustion that creeps into your bones, dragging you under water and not letting you swim back up.

He took a deep breath, then another.

He got closer towards the entrance of his room. As soon as he got there he wanted to melt into the ground, to turn into a small puddle of nothingness. But even that wish didn’t come true as there was a knock on his door almost as soon as he closed it.

Another knock. Every sharp movement resonated in his skull.

Your voice. "König, can I come in?"

He nodded. When nothing happened he mentally cursed himself, you couldn’t see him after all. "Yes." His voice shook and felt embarrassed.

"Hey," You muttered, walking in and closing the door behind you. "What’s goin’ on?"

You. You were here. You were in his room. No. You couldn't see him like this. You shouldn't see him this weak and vulnerable. Or maybe he deserved it.

He screwed his eyes shut feeling self-conscious.

"Woah, hey, are you okay big guy?" Your voice was soft as you approached him, footsteps stopping in front of him.

"Too…much."

"Okay, try breathing in and out slowly, just try to relax..."

The man sucked in a shaky breath, holding it for a second before blowing it out slowly. It helped, but it wasn't enough. "Can I touch you?" König's eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded. A strong hand rested against his shoulder, another hand resting on his knee.

"I need you to breathe with me, yeah?" it almost sounds like you're pleading. Voice shakes where it was once strong.

König opens his mouth and tries to do as you say, but it's too much. His chest stutters and he's left wheezing.

"Slow down, König," Your tone has dropped to a whisper, your mouth is right against König's ear and he focuses all his energy on your voice.

Anything but the pain in his chest and the tears building around his eyes. "In through your nose, slowly and out through your mouth." He puts emphasis on the words slowly and König does as asked.

"Alright, keep doing that. Can you name one thing you can taste?" It was a strange request, but König thought about it for a moment, mumbling his answer.

"Coffee." You brought him a cup this morning.

"Okay, good. Now tell me two things you can smell."

"Gasoline and...books?" He heard a light chuckle.

"Okay, yeah. Three things you can hear."

He listened, trying to identify every small sound he heard. "The wind...people talking...and...your voice."

"Okay. How about four things you can feel?"

"My clothes, the ground...the bed sheets...you..." He was feeling slightly better and his breathing was more controlled.

"Okay, will you open your eyes for me?" You wondered.

König let out a shaky breath, opening his eyes slowly. He was met with a kind smile, and you were crouched down right in front of König.

"Um-"

"There, okay, lastly five things you can see." You were right infront of him, and König didn't want to look away. He knew what you looked like, but he had never seen you this close. You were beautiful.

"The wall, um... the door. A book..." his gaze shifted back to you. "Your eyes. And... your hand on my leg." Smiling, you nodded.

"Good. Better?" König nodded, knowing he was staring, but not really caring. You let out a small laugh, taking your hands off him.

"Thank you"

"König," You spoke softly. "Are you feeling a bit better?"

"Y-Yeah," He says. He sniffs and shuffles closer to you and whispers back "Please… please stay." He flings his arms around you.

"Please stay."

"Of course I’ll stay."

#könig #könig my beloved #könig x male reader #cod mw2 #cod x male reader #call of duty modern warfare #x male reader #könig x reader

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filthforfriends · 1 year

Text

Shame and Pleasure

(Previously known as DILFiano)

CW: 24 year age gap!

Word count: 4.7k

Damia’s voice has some sort of hypnotic quality. It lulls you into a state where other thoughts are quieted, and your scope of focus narrows to sensation. Without thinking about it, you surge forward and hug Damia, slotting your face against the bone of his shoulder. Unintentionally, your unfiltered gratitude is what finally gets to him.

“Stellina, I want to do this a little differently.” His hand is gone so quickly that your body doesn’t know to stop moving with it. For a moment, you’re thrusting against the air. Even without the cliroral stimulation, you were wound so god damn tight. Damia doesn’t wipe his fingers off. He crawls up to the headboard and arranges pillows behind his back so casually. Poise. You can’t help but feel betrayed. Bringing you so close to orgsam then pausing was mean.

“Do you understand that we can stop whenever you want?” You nod, confused. “Are you absolutely sure you want to continue? I need a verbal answer for that.”

“Yes,” you state firmly.

“Take your skirt off so I can admire you.” Heart racing, you attempt to control your trembling hands on the zipper, but he sees. Damia waits for your face to reveal uncertainty while you strip. He observes none because there's none to observe. In fact, it's exactly the pointed attention you’d been craving. Damia opens the drawer in his bedside table. You take off the bra first, hoping he’ll look up to admire your underwear, that his breath will catch at all the expanses of taut and supple skin. Instead, his attention stays on the contents of the drawer.

“Someones not very appreciative,” you tease. He spares an insultingly brief glance and gaffs.

“Cheap lingerie loses its thrill after your 20s.” Damiano freezes completely and winces. “Sorry, that…Christ, I’m sorry.” You can see his brain recalibrating to parental/nurturer to assess the damage he’d cause to your confidence. Admittedly, the snub stung, but reassurance wasn’t something women his age needed. So you didn’t need it either.

“You know what else lost its thrill? Razor wire in my asscrack. I’m never wearing those again.” He lets out a short series of awkward, barking laughs while you take a seat on the edge of the mattress. Damia appears mystified at how well you’re handling his slight. He's trying to see through the cracks in your facade and you're praying he can’t.

“Apparently I forgot that being an insensitive asshole is also supposed to stay in your 20s,” he sighs, cocking his head to the side. “God, what a dumb thing to say.”.

“So…” you probe.

“I won’t kiss you,” he states absolutely. You make a dramatic sound of indignation. “So now that I’ve fucked up your arousal and the mood –” Playful, he draws out the first syllable of the sentence just as you had.

“There was a mood?” you chirp, crawling towards him. Recognizing it was an accidental admission. Damia leans over and checks Icarus’ location, which is very promising. He lets out a burdened sigh.

“Yes, there was a mood. C’mon, don’t be coy.” As Damia sits up, you move onto his lap. “Woah! Okay,” he throws his hands up.

“Want me to get off?”

“No,” he whines, like he’d prefer his answer to be a lie. “Well, I – hmm. This isn’t what I had planned.” Accidentally, you’ve switched the dynamic. This was the first time you’d seen Damiano more present than tortured. If you had control that meant, however much he may deny it, Damia had allowed you to. So you settle yourself in a straddle. Very slowly, Damia’s hands lower and come to rest timidly on your thighs.

“Will you take your clothes off?”

“Absolutely not,” he answers curtly. That rule was clearly nonnegotiable. Testing exactly where the boundaries lay, you lower a hand to Damia’s groin. The pajamas are navy so it takes a second to find his cock. He’s so hard he’s throbbing, which is no small achievement at 42, you’ve heard. Damia swats your hand away, refusing to meet your eyes.

“This isn’t about me.”

“This is about both of us. Stop kicking yourself for getting hard.” He shakes his head and looks away, scowling. “It's a natural reaction to stimulation, not a condemnation of your character, Damia. Fuck’s sake, be decent to yourself.”

“Wise words,” he replies, cynically. He is so clearly overwhelmed with self-loathing that it hurts to watch. A better person would leave rather than make him face this.

“Why can’t I touch you?”

“Because we aren’t going to have sex!” he snaps. That wounds you quicker than you can control your expression.

“But what the fuck am I supposed to do? Nothing? That’s cruel. Maybe I could be a decent human being and resist this if, if — you, I…” He tilts his head back and growls in frustration. “I didn’t even know you could make love to someone’s hand.” Now you’re the one plagued by self-consciousness. “If I hadn’t ruined it, you’d be able to grind on my hand to completion. Like…” Damia is so in awe that he’s speechless. He’s also damn near hysterical. It’s such a juxtaposition to your emotions at the moment. Damia’s burning shame morphs into a tingling sensation between your legs, just as fiery.

“You’re so pent and you desperately need someone to take care of you. So then what? I just send you off into the night for some high schooler that doesn’t know his herpes status or some college guy who treats you like you’re disposable? ”

“I already did go off into the night and pick someone.” You scoot closer to Damiano and watch that settle in.

“Your ability to always say the right things is gonna get you in so much trouble.”

“I wanna be in trouble with you.” Another car drives by. Another piece of Damiano is illuminated by a slant of light. This one is jaded, dissatisfied with a life he knows should bring him joy. In reality, that life acts like an echo in an empty room, a reminder of how vast the unfulfilled spaces within him are.

“Why can’t I kiss you?”

“What I had in mind –”

“I know. But right now, why can’t I kiss you?” You lean in close enough to touch lips and stop. Damia clearly wanted to, but he had to instigate.

“I don’t know how I’ll feel about it.” His breath hits your face as he whispers.

“Last time –”

“Last time was amazing, but I’m afraid it will feel wrong. Guilt and arousal are opposites for me.” He clears his throat roughly. “Which is why it can’t happen.”

“Okay,” you switch to a whisper. “Could we start small and see how you feel?”

“I…yeah. Or, no! Fuck.” He sighs heavily and closes his eyes. “I shouldn’t be doing this at all. What the fuck is wrong with me? I can’t believe –” You grab his hand and push it between your legs. “Oh my god…you’re already wet again.” You press your foreheads together and nod. Damia drags his middle finger between your labia, cupping your vulva to apply gratifying pressure. Meanwhile you kiss his neck.

“Do you like licking?”

“Licking, biting, but not hard scratching.” You run your tongue up the column of his neck and trap his earlobe between your teeth. Very slowly, you pull downwards with your mouth and Damia shudders while he finally moans. Your tongue traces the shell of his ear, running behind it as well. It finally hits you that this is Damia inside your mouth. No, it's not as you had hoped, but the fact of it happening at all was mind blowing.

With every taste of salty skin, you said a little prayer, worshiping at Damiano’s altar. Some greater force, may it be sexual chemistry or supernatural, had brought you here. Cherishing and savoring Damia in every way possible was the only option you’d ever consider. Just the reassuring pressure of his hand made you pussy throb.

Having covered his neck, you start using your hands. One caresses where your tongue had already been, and the other pushed Damia’s hair back from his face. You kiss from jaw to hairline, not pecks, but slow and open-mouthed. Your body sways upwards with each inhale, each kiss, and downwards which each exhale, each parting of skin. There's nothing to grind against, but keeping time with the ebb and slow of sensuality just intuitively made sense.

When you switch to the otherside, Damia stops you, his hand on your jaw, thumb on your chin. He holds your face completely still, and is totally stationary himself. Only his eyes move, and rapidly. Those two seconds last your entire lifetime.

He pulls you in, loses courage, but the forward momentum has already been established. In the spirit of starting slow, the first kiss is chaste. Lips meet, then part. That’s all. Your eyes fly open, but Damia’s remain closed as he thinks. The hand between your legs pulls away. For a moment your stomach drops, but then you feel that arm wrap itself tightly around your lower back.

This next kiss is just as demure, except Damia pulls your entire body against his. It’s that breath-taking physical intimacy from the rooftop, forceful, but on the right side of two much. Damia knew how to handle a woman. He didn’t touch you like you like there were 24 years of separation.

“No.” He shakes his head, brow furrowed, pulling back.

“Yes,” you insist, surging forward. “100% yes.” Instead of freezing up, you remember to embrace him back. The next kiss is so slow that the skin of your lips stick together as you pull away.

“Cazzo,” he grunts, eyes squeezed shut. “Are you sure?”

“So fucking sure.” You press your chest to his and the skin to skin contact changes everything. “Absolutely positive,” you moan. Your nipples harden against Damia’s sternum, body waiting in rapture for a caress or so much as a puff of air from a sigh. You’re left feral and clawing at him, mewling in an effort to achieve more contact. Damia’s chest hair tickled your nipples as they became so hard you whined in discomfort, rubbing against his warm sternum.

You’re so overcome that Damia has to use his thumb to tug at the corner of your lips. As soon as you remember to open your mouth, Damiano's tongue is inside. The force of the kiss is literally bending you backwards. Rather than resist, you open your mouth completely and turn your head to eliminate the possibility of space. Total compliance. Allowing Damia to mold your body’s shape has an unique effect on him. Or perhaps it's your breast tissue that he so badly wants to feel with his tongue.

Either way, his self control shatters. Damia forces you onto your back via his height advantage. His body lands on top of yours in missionary position and he groans in satiation, pulling the sound from as deep as his toes. You shrink into the mattress, both intimidated and overwhelmed with excitement.

Damia’s teeth sink into the soft tissue on the inside of your bottom lip. Instead of pulling back you take the pain and squeal. His hips buck in response, clothed cock against your naked cunt. The sound you make is loud enough to remind Damia that he needed to employ critical thinking.

“This is why I can’t kiss you,” he gasps, pulling away. The babbling starts before your brain has even decided what you want to say.

“No! Please, please, please. No, it's okay. It’s – you can’t stop. You have to keep going. Damia! Damia, please don’t – god please, please don’t just stop. You can’t, Damia you can’t –” He kisses you once more to silence the begging.

“Shh, shh. Tesorina, let me help, hmm?” He sits back, pulling you up with him after settling his weight. Your movement is disjointed. It feels like you’re still in that moment, where you were exactly two layers of fabric away from Damia making love to you. How could that moment just end? How could he act like it was anything less than earth-shattering? He’s situated against the headboard again before he realizes how shell-shocked you are.

“Sweetheart, come here,” Damia beckons, firmly. You crawl upwards, tripping on his legs before he spreads them wide. He pats the space right in front of him. You kneel there, so aroused and confused and pent up that you might cry or scream.

“Turn around. Back to my chest.” It's awkward and unflattering to reposition. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to give you whiplash. Just sit down and let me.” Damai wraps both tattooed arms around you, and drags you closer. Encircled in his grasp, his upper body curled over to fit perfectly against your spine, lips to your cheek, yes you understood now. It was so much more intimate than you had expected.

Damia wanted to watch. He wanted to watch his hands touch you. Penetrate inside of you. He wanted to watch how wet you got. A vibrant color in your peripheral vision catches your attention. It’s one of a couple dozen sex toys in the open drawer. He follows your line of sight.

“Still a yes?” It was intimidating, but not a deterrent.

“Yes,” you pant. One of his hands wanders downwards. The anticipation throbbed in your cunt. You minutely roll your hips up to meet Damia’s touch, turning your gaze upward, because watching the act made you squirm. Impatient didn’t begin to cover it. More like you wanted to peel your first layer of skin off in anticipation. His fingers massaged your vulva, circled your hyman, spreading your pre-cum because he liked the way your pussy glistened.

“Touch me, touch me,” you grunt in frustration. “It hurts.” Your cunt was so engorged that the throbbing was painful. You didn’t deserve the teasing, had barely survived these weeks of anticipation.

“It’s not fair,” you exclaim in anguish, and it’s not as if you could push his hand downward. Damia was already there. You’d never looked at yourself this way, so directly. Masturbating was always done under the comforter.

“Stellina, what's not fair?” he coos, then kisses your ear. You whine and buck, frustrated that none of the bedding was sturdy enough for grabbing to externalize intense sensation. Something rips.

“Ugh,” you growl. “I’m sorry, it’s just hhhuuh –” Damia pushes two fingers inside. All the way inside, so his hand is flush against your body. His left arm acts as a seatbelt while you tremble. Damia thrusts his digits in and out and your body makes embarrassing, wet noises again.

“My fault. I’m accustomed to teasing being a necessity. But you’re so responsive…” Damia rests his chin on your shoulder and drops his other hand to your pussy. He has the perfect vantage point to get exactly on your clit. It's unlike any sensation you’ve felt. A lightning bolt in your pelvis, more pain than pleasure. You yelp, leaning forward, and closing your legs tight enough to trap Damia. Whether it be to maintain the stimulation or quell its intensity, you do not know.

He follows, so you’re still chest to back. Even with his hands immobilized, Damia can still make tiny motions against your clit. Finally reduced to an animal, you hiss and kick the blanket off the bed as energy tightens around your hips.

“Stellina, relax,” he commands. You cross your knees and squeeze tighter, instead, rubbing your legs together to increase the stimulation. Pleasure it is, then. Your body had decided. With a tremendous exhale you release him, sitting upright. Damia continues to pay attention to your clit. His fingers curl towards your belly button again, internally. It’s not even distinctly enjoyable, just powerful and orgasmic. Could a person be so turned on that they couldn't feel pleasure?

Watching Damia’s hands becomes too visceral, so you lean your head back onto his shoulder and trust his skill set. Meanwhile, one of your fists is colliding with the fitted sheet and the other has found its way to gripping Damia’s thigh, sliding on the fabric of his pajama pants. This does absolutely nothing to anchor you amidst the stimulation. It only adds to the reservoirs of energy that you’ll be forced to externalize, whose pressure is mounted by Dami’s insistent clitorial stimulation. You’re reduced to damn near drowning in a sensation that can only be called So Good It Hurts.

“So close, but I can’t….I can’t, my – mm ah.” Damia switches his legs from being outside yours to inside. When your body tries to cramp down, he keeps you spread open and continues pleasuring you. The arm responsible for internal stimulation wraps around your ribs and holds you close, so every inch of your naked back is pressed to Damia’s.

“Take your time,” he murmurs. Damia’s hold you secure, left hand brushing his fingertips across your erect nipple. A troubled whine is your best attempt at communicating that you don’t want to take your time. Instead, Damia pinches your nipple, twists, and pulls. Finally, you’re submerged in orgasam and it doesn’t feel like drowning at all. It feels like breaking the surface.

While cumming, you tense so hard it turns into convulsions. Then you nearly outright scream.

“Yes, sweetheart, be as loud as you want,” he encourages. This was so the opposite of teenage boys, shushing you because their parents might hear. Damiano curled forward when you did, relaxed back with a sigh when you did, but his finger on your clit never stopped.

“Uh ah, oh my god. Wha –’” gasp. “What you, are you doing?” Damia chuckles in your ear and lets go of your waist. He reaches into the drawer and pulls out a magenta vibrator. It's unintimidating, only about four inches long.

“Keeping momentum.” Damia replaces his pointer finger with the head of the toy, which was still turned off. “Still a yes? Are you still sure?”

“Mm, mhm.” The surface of the vibrator was so smooth and the material almost soft. It must be really high grade silicone. You nod, still struggling to catch your breath.

“I need a –”

“Yes!” you exclaim, interrupting him. Even so, when you check on Damia, it's clear he’s beating himself up again. Reconfirming consent had pulled his mind away elsewhere and finding the right words with a throbbing pussy was challenging.

“Hey, I said yes to doing this to you.” He returns his focus with a tortured smile.

“I know sweetheart, your enthusiasm is noted.”

“So why aren’t you here?” At first, Damia is preparing a counterpoint, but then he’s just genuinely shocked. “Get out of your own head. Be with me,” you huff. His ministrations between your legs briefly falter and you fear the worst, but his pointer and middle fingers return. You hear a barely audible click. The vibrator turns on with a quiet buzzing sound.

“I assume you’ve never used a sex toy before, and the first time can be really powerful.”

“Never,” you whisper.

“So we’re gonna do a lot of talking. This is the lowest setting.” The vibrator hovers in the air, creating unbearable suspense. “This is how it feels,” he narrates. Instead of applying the toy to your clit, Damia brings it to your lower stomach. You tense from the novelty of the sensation, but after that passes, it's really gentle. He moves it back and forth, then further down, onto your pubic mound.

“I’m okay, keep going.” Finally, he brings the silicone head against your clit, making clockwise motions. It’s like the normal pangs of pleasure one gets from clitoral stimulation, but less powerful, and on a much greater scale. He switches to counterclockwise rotations, stimulating the nerves in the opposite direction.

“One or two?” he murmurs.

“One, please,” you pant. The “please” makes his cock jump and Damia pretends that you can’t feel it, even as the sensation makes you grin. He tries stationary and making smaller circles, as well as moving vertically and horizontally. After each, he checks in for your preference. Discerning what felt best was difficult, because all the sensations were incredible.

“Higher.” The buzz goes up in pitch and you jump as soon as it touches you. “Christ,” you pant.

“Do you wanna go back down or be gradual on this setting?” He’s already adjusted it back to the lowest setting.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, breathless.

“You don’t know if you want to continue?”

“Ugh no,” you groan, with an eye roll. “I don’t know how to cum twice. It feels like I’m full of, like, lightning or something.”

“Full of lightning sounds like you’re about to cum.” Damia turns the vibrator back up a notch and you both want to thank him perfusing and curse him out.

“No, it’s barely been, unhh…we were trying stuff and – oh my fuck.” This orgasam felt more challanging than the last one.

“The longer you touch yourself, the more blood flows to that area. So it actually gets more sensitive over time, which makes it easier to cum.”

“Momentum,” you gasp.

“Yes. I’ve been stimulating your clit continuously which certainly isn’t a chore with someone so god damn responsive,” he growls. That tone of voice belonged to a part of Damia that he’d never allowed you to see before. You run towards it with open arms.

“Tell me.”

“Tell you how much of a greedy piece of shit I am for taking these first times all for myself?”

“God, yes.” Your chest heaves as it struggles to adequately oxygenate your body. “My nipples,” you beg. Damia brings his left hand up to your neglected breast. It's rougher than you expected. He digs his blunt fingernails in while twisting. Then flicks the hardened nipple upon releasing and pinches it very firmly. You let your head fall back. Gravity is gone and things feel too floaty to hold yourself upright. He’s so solid behind you, watching every reaction.

Somehow, you’re able to meet his eyes and now Damia can’t look elsewhere. Locked in, he has to watch you cum. He aches as your eyes fall closed and your mouth open. Damia can feel your hands clawing at him and he manages to find your right and holds securely. It's your face that makes it possible to live with himself: peace, bliss. How amoral could it be? How disgusting could he be if he gave you this?

When you cum everything tenses with a vengeance, but the release is quicker and more profound. You see twinkling sparkles against the black backdrop of your closed eyelids. Those wells of nervous energy are as empty as they’ve been in years. It's like you can breathe for the first time, except you can’t breathe at all. The stimulation is gone, but your clit still beats with your heart’s frantic rhythm.

“Catch your breath, sweetheart. You’re okay.” Every effort comes out as a gasp. Damia wraps both arms around you, and shimmy’s down so he’s on the mattress. Laying naked on his bare chest, in his bed, as he calms you down from orgasam doesn’t even seem real. This moment belongs in your fantasy life and the cognitive dissonance is intense.

“Inhale, exhale,” he chants, rubbing your back. “Inhale, exhale,” is timed with his own breathing, which raises and lowers your head. Realizing that he’ll misconstrue this as a trauma reaction, you are very studious in evening out your breathing.

“I’m really not having a panic attack. It was so good that I actually saw stars, I swear to god!” Damia snorts and you’re relieved not to find him amidst a moral crisis.

“You saw stars because you hold your breath when you cum,” he laughs. “We would have kept going if I wasn’t worried about you passing out.”

“Oh…” You're unsure whether to feel embarrassed about this subconscious habit. It had cost you orgsams from Damia, so the automatic response is vehement hatred. Judging his reaction while unable to see his expression was impossible, so you sit up and straddle his torso.

“Don’t worry, it’s common,” Damia chuckles and casually rubs your flank, face unchanging. Was it subconscious? Was it just meant to be a casual, comforting gesture between lovers?

“What should I do?” you manage to say.

“Well it can be a stress thing," he replies, thoughtfully. “You can also practice by yourself. The right partner might also be really helpful.” Your expression gives you away and Damia is backpedaling before you’ve said a word. “No! No, absolutely not. This is never happening again,” he declares with finality. Placing both hands on your hips, Damiano guides you off of his lap and to the edge of the bed. You stand with your eyes stinging from rejection.

“You do know that I don’t expect you to be my boyfriend or some shit? I’m attracted to you, you’re attracted to me. I am more than capable of discretion. We’re both consenting adults, but you make it into this exhausting moral quandary.” He’s wide-eyed and taken aback, even sitting upright to conversate.

“I didn’t recognize that you were such a realist,” Damia admits, astonished. “But to be clear, for me this is some exhausting moral quandary, and you are far too intelligent for me to explain why.”

“I don’t want some high school boy who doesn’t know his herpes status or some college guy that's gonna treat me like I’m disposable,” you counter, using Damiano’s own words against him.

“Y/n.” he holds his hand up. “Your friend’s father is not the alternative.” There's nothing to say, because you’re both right. For a moment you just stare while tension wraps a hand around each throat.

“It’s absurd for me to have any expectations of you. I apologize and you’ve been so…” you search for the least controversial adjective, “generous.”

“It's nice to see you act your age for once, actually,” he huffs. The man that had growled in your ear and watched your pussy leave a wet spot on the bedding was gone. To fill his place, a new iteration of Damia had been created for your benefit alone. He was a nurturer who didn’t entertain false pretenses about this connection being normal. How many mirages could Damiano make before forgetting how to experience his own thoughts and feelings altogether?

“You understand that I can’t let you leave this room thinking that this is going to happen again?”

“Yes,” you reply in monotone.

“Alright.” He stands with a groan and picks your bra, underwear, and miniskirt off of the floor. In the meantime you retrieve your shirt from the otherside of the bedroom and pull it on. It's strange how a person can go from having three fingers inside to avoiding your hands touching as he passes clothes over. A hint of magenta in your peripheral vision catches your attention. The vibrator still lay in the sheets, undisturbed by this excruciating turn of events.

“Are you still good?”

“Yeah.” No. Once your skirt is back on, Damia walks you through the doorway. After such intense intimacy, any level of personal space feels awkward. You’re not expecting him to pull you into a hug, so much so that your arms hang by your sides. He strokes your back with a steady, warm hand, wrinkling the thin fabric while pressing his lips to your scalp. You’re aware that this embrace is Damiano’s way of communicating his feelings, but you haven’t a fucking clue what he’s saying.

It was unlike any hug you’d received from an adult man, another first Damia was taking from you, but this time he didn’t realize it. Finally, you embrace him back and press your face to his bare chest. His skin smells delicious as always, especially after sweating a little. Damia wraps his arms tighter, hand moving to rub back and forth across your shoulder blades. He kisses your head again.

This is an emotion you didn’t have a name for: so safe that the urge to cry abates. Simultaneously, that very same feeling makes you tear up because it's safe to cry. Was this the hug you were missing throughout your childhood? Was this how a male parental figure was supposed to make you feel? Your unaffectionate father had left you no frame of reference.

“Okay, good night.” When he pulls back, you can’t decide if you want to kiss him. That consideration quickly becomes mute, because Damia won’t look at you. Instead, he just closes the bedroom door in your face.

Notes: Sorry. 🤧 (You can now opt out of age gap fics by resubmitting your preferences to my taglist) I was unable to tag people for two months so you probably missed the last installment, which can be read here.

- XOXO Eden

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jasntodds · 8 months

Text

Petrichor [7]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 14,007

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of scars, mentions of a panic attack, manipulation, canon drug use, comic book science? Titans science? (author's note at the end lol), canon violence, blood, bruises, gore, breaking bones, mentions of nightmares, canon character death (I'm so sorry)

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work.Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: Happy birthday to Jason Todd!! So, sorry I did this for his birthday lmao I lied, this is longer than I thought it would be lol But I'm so sorry. I don't have anything else to say for myself besides canon made me do it and so did the comics lol I hope you guys like it!! If you want context from book 1, let me know and I’ll tell you!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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Over the next couple of weeks, Jason continues to go to therapy as directed by Bruce. To his surprise, it actually seems to be helping a little bit. He’s still having nightmares but they aren’t every night anymore. His hands aren’t shaking as badly either. He just feels a little bit better. Maybe Bruce and you were right about Leslie.

You and Jason are doing better, too. There have been moments where he’s gotten a little too frustrated but he remembers your talk and you give him a little bit of space until he’s ready to talk. It works for the both of you. You go on dates at least once a week and you both actually feel normal during the day. It’s not about being a vigilante and figuring out how to survive.

You go out on patrol three days a week instead of six. This is Jason’s thing and you know it bothers him. You can wait to patrol every night until he gets Robin back. It doesn’t bother you that much. And this way, you get to spend more time together and exist in a normal way that you desperately craved. You are a normal couple for once.

Above all of that, it’s been good. Things have been good. And while that is terrifying, you and Jason stick it out anyway. You don’t run or push. You both want to sometimes because it’s easier but you’re both fucking happy. So, you don’t. You don’t do it because losing each other is worse than anything the other could ever dish out. Running and pushing wouldn’t do either of you any good for the first time in your lives. So, you both enjoy the happiness together. Until things come to a screeching halt.

You're in the living room, having a FaceTime TV marathon with Gar when Bruce comes home. He offers a quick hello before trying to walk off but you call him anyway. He’s home a lot later than he should be since he went to pick up Jason. It was his request you stay back this time.

“Where’s Jason?” You question.

In all fairness, you wouldn’t be asking him normally but you also haven’t heard much from Jason since his therapy session ended. He said Bruce was taking him somewhere so he would be home later. And that was kind of the end of it. He’s been doing quite a bit better so you haven’t been as worried when he doesn’t text you back right away. But now Bruce is here without him.

“In the city.” Bruce answers plainly.

“Why? You went to pick him up?” You raise a brow and something happened. Jason texted you in the car. He was fine and with Bruce.

You look at the time and see that was a few hours ago.

“He’s upset. I’m giving him space. You should, too.” Bruce states.

“What did you do?” You deadpan, pulling up the text thread with Jason.

“I did not do anything.” Bruce defends. “He’ll be home soon.” Bruce states before he walks off.

“Everything okay?” Gar asks.

“Nope.” You shake your head. “I assume they got into some sort of fight again.” You roll your eyes. “Did he text you by chance?” You ask seeing the read receipt from a few hours ago.

Gar checks his phone and the last he heard from Jason was that morning. “No, he hasn’t texted me since this morning. What’s going on?”

You: you okay? Bruce said you’re upset what happened?

“I have no idea. He was fine earlier.” You let out a sigh, looking back at Gar through the tablet screen.

“You said he’s been better, right? Maybe he’s just blowing off steam from Bruce.” Gar suggests. Jason has shared some of the stuff that's happened and has complained a little about Bruce.

“Yeah, but if that’s the case, he usually comes to me to bitch about Bruce because I always agree with him.” You give Gar a grin just as your phone goes off.

Jaybird 🥰: fuck bruce I’m fine don’t worry

You: what happened? Do you want me to come get you?

“Well he texted me back and I was right, fight with Bruce.” You roll your eyes.

They fight sometimes, usually about Robin-related things or Jason wanting to do something reckless and Bruce putting a stop to it. Jason’s usually only a mad an hour or so before he’s fine and over it. Jason doesn’t hold very many grudges.

“Did he say about what?” Gar asks.

“Nope. Just said, fuck Bruce.”

Jaybird 🥰: no just wanna be alone still you and me love you ❤️

You: call or text every so often so I know you’re okay please I love you, too 🥰

“What’d he say?” Gar asks. He worries enough for the both of you/

“He wants to be alone and when Jason wants to be alone that is never good. But we have this thing where I let him be alone and then he tells me about it later. So, I guess I have to wait. If he isn’t home or texting me in a few hours, I’ll go look for him.” You reluctantly put your phone down. Giving Jason space is never easy.

“Think he’ll be alright?” Gar asks with worry in his voice.

“Yeah, him and Bruce fight sometimes. I’m sure it’s nothing too bad, Bruce probably just said something stupid and Jason was already in a mood.” You let out a sigh as the worry feeling gnaws at your stomach.

“Did you want to still—“

“Yeah, yeah, no. We can keep watching. He said he’ll text me.” You offer a soft smile while the two of you continue your show.

It’s not fair. It’s utter bullshit. Jason can’t help the way his blood is boiling and fuming while his hands shake. Bruce doesn’t think he’s good enough to be Robin. Bruce gave up on him. Jason is supposed to be his son and Bruce gave up on him anyway but he never gave up on Dick. If Jason weren’t so weak, this whole thing never would have happened. But he’s gonna prove to Bruce he can be Robin. He can be the best Robin and he can be a better Batman, too. He just needs a little help in the fear department.

He’s desperate. He tells himself this is a one-time thing. Fear creeps in his throat, grasping to be let out in the damp air. It’s a one-time thing, he tells himself. He’s out of options if he wants to be Robin. He’s out of options if he wants to keep the most important thing in his life. All he needs is a quick fix to fear and he’ll be back out there, better than he has ever been. He’ll prove it to Bruce. Bruce is wrong about him.

Bruce thinks he’s a mistake. He thinks Jason isn't worth the trouble just like everyone else. Bruce thinks Jason is weak. He thought Jason could replace Dick and he couldn’t. Not as Robin and not as Bruce’s son. But if he can get rid of his fear, he can show him how wrong he is. He isn’t just another mistake. He isn’t weak and he’s better than Dick. He swears this will be it. It won’t be bad. He can handle this. He swears it’ll all be fine. So, he hangs up on Leslie and heads inside the gates of Arkham Asylum as rain patters around him.

He’s a master manipulator. Jason knows that. It’s one of the things he’s best at. But the desperation for a cure to fear clouds every aspect of that. The desperation doesn’t let him see why Crane wants information for the cure. He can’t see Crane’s angel in his state of paralyzed desperation. And Jason has been manipulated before. He swears he’ll know if Crane is manipulating him because he knows what to look out for this time. But, desperation and the fear of being scared forever, go hand in hand. Fear and desperation cloud everything. He tosses his loyalty from the window as he gets closer to the formula. Crane gives him a piece of it with every piece of information Jason gives him.

“Tell me about the first Robin.” Crane offers this grin that sends a chill down Jason’s spine.

“Like what?” Jason huffs.

“His name, where he is, everything you know.”

“Dick Grayson. He’s in San Francisco and goes by Nightwing.” Jason explains, throwing Dick completely under the bus. He has a problem with Dick now anyway. Dick Grayson has always been the goody two shoes and Bruce’s favorite. Jason only got to be Robin because Dick abandoned Bruce. Jason was a filler. “He’s with the Titans. He got Deathstroke’s son killed and dropped me from a skyscraper.” Jason lets out a scoff.

“Interesting. Doesn’t seem to be the golden boy Bruce portrayed him as.” Crane grins and this is easier than he thought it would be. Jason has no problems rolling, apparently and Crane knows he’s going to use that to his advantage.

He’s broken. He’s desperate and Crane has the cure he wants. This is going to be easy and Crane gets all benefits. Jason lets him take down the Bat but in the best way. Crane is going to get the Bat’s son to turn on him and get rid of him. To break him. And then Dick Grayson and all of Gotham will follow. Crane finds the whole thing a little poetic. He can use him. And Jason will never see through it once he figures out the formula.

“Yep.” Jason answers simply, wanting to get this over with and Crane offers him a piece of the formula.

“The Titans. Who are they?” Crane asks, hiding the malicious intent behind curiosity.

Jason looks up to him and he doesn’t like to throw some of the others under the bus. But Crane is here. He can’t do anything. And most of them thought he was just Dick’s weaker replacement anyway. They gave up, too.

“Rachel Roth, Raven. Hank Hall, Hawk. Dawn Granger, Dove. Kory Anders, Starfire. Conner Kent, Superboy. Gar Logan, Beast Boy.” Jason pauses, waiting to see if Crane knows more.

Of course, he does. He’s in Arkham, not living under a rock. The Bat gains a new sidekick and everyone knows about it. Crane is only taking a guess the new sidekick also was a Titan based on when you showed up and your close proximity with Robin, himself. He saw Jason’s hesitance on his face. The fear.

Crane chuckles softly. “Aren’t you missing someone, pal?” Crane asks, almost a little too warmly. “Could have sworn there was one more.”

Jason grits his teeth and he’s so sorry.

When he came up with this plan, he had a feeling Crane would want information. He came prepared for it. Part of that preparation was leaving you the hell out of it. Not you. Crane can’t know about you. Anyone but you. But he does know. He already knows you're a Titan and he already knows you work for Bruce. Jason has no choice if he wants the formula. And he is so sorry.

Jason says your name with bitterness on his tongue. “Bluejay. She doesn't really like the name thing though.” Jason answers.

Crane has a soft smile. “She’s the new bird. So many of you are birds.” Crane chuckles. “I do find it interesting you would try to leave her out of it. She’s the new edition to Batman. Let me guess,” Crane boasts around his cell. “Your girlfriend.”

Not you. You've done everything you can to save him and help him. He loves you. Not you. Anyone but you.

“No.” Jason answers. “Just friends.” He bites the words because maybe Crane doesn’t know for sure you’re together and he wants you at arm's length.

“If you want the formula, you really shouldn’t lie to me.” Crane has a sinister smile. “You wouldn’t leave her out of it if you were just friends.” Crane lets the words fall with ease.

He’s so fucking sorry.

“Yeah, okay fine. Girlfriend.” Jason spits.

He knows you’ll never forgive him if you find out. You can’t tell Molly anything but he’s here telling Crane everything. You're going to hate him. But he needs a cure. He can’t feel this way forever. He can’t do it. He doesn't think he’ll be able to live like this anymore.

“Ah, young love.” Crane smiles with that shrug of his shoulders. You're going to be an interesting obstacle in this one. He’s already trying to protect you from this. Crane knows he needs to break that bond as fast as he can if he wants this plan to work. “I want to know about her.” There’s this look that crosses Crane’s eyes and Jason almost turns around.

But he doesn’t.

“Why? She’s not with the fucking Titans and she hates Bruce. She works with him because of me. That’s it. She got a suit out of it and a place to stay.”

“I’m a bit of a romantic, myself. Love stories are cute. Always having someone on your side, through thick and thin. It is quite romantic, don’t you think? If we’re going to work together, I want to know why she’s so important to you.” Crane grins. “You can trust me, boy. We want the same things and the way the Bat has treated you…it’s so cruel. But I, I believe in you. That’s why I’m helping you. You trust me, don’t you?”

You're going to kill him. Guilt chews at his limbs. His jaw squares and he thinks swallowing his own teeth would be easier than this. But he has to. Maybe Crane is being sincere. Jason thinks he is. At least enough. Maybe if Jason tells him enough, Crane will see you aren’t a problem. Maybe he’ll see you would side with them. You want Gotham to be better, you don’t agree with Bruce’s ways. Maybe Crane will understand. He’s helping Jason, maybe he can help you. You're scared, too.

“Dick found her.” Jason answers reluctantly. “She joined the Titans. We went after Deathstroke together. Got kidnapped and dropped from the skyscraper. Dick saved her. CADMUS attacked her, Gar, and Conner when I was gone. Dick left them alone when shit hit the fan. CADMUS left her for dead. So, she came back to Gotham.” Jason explains.

“She was there with Deathstroke.” Crane lets out a sigh and like Bruce, in a way, he can always tell when someone could need him. Someone who’s been traumatized. His intentions aren’t as pure as Bruce’s. “But Dick saved her and not you. Did you save her?”

“It wasn’t like that.” Jason shakes his head. “Dick tried to save me first and dropped me. Then he saved her. But yeah,” Jason nods. “I protected her and she did the same shit for me.”

“The two of you went through something so traumatic together. That really must have brought you closer. It’s not as romantic as I was hoping for but it is quite nice.” Crane grins. “She has powers, doesn’t she?”

“Acid generation.” Jason stares, leaving out the combat clairvoyance and the possibility of you having sharp shooting abilities. Two things Crane can’t prove Jason lied about.

“Now that is interesting. Does she know you’re here right now? Asking for my help?”

“No.” Jason shakes his head. “Look, she’s got nothing to with this shit. But, I can get her on our side. The other Titans targeted me for all types of shit I didn’t do and she was the only one on my side. She’s not a fucking problem. I can handle her.”

Crane grins and that’s all he needs. Jason is already hiding something huge from you. The distrust will be there and Jason doesn’t know Crane’s whole plan. If it goes the way he thinks it will, it’ll break your relationship. He will have no one left besides Crane. Exactly how he wants it. So, he decides he’ll let Jason think he believes this whole thing and moves back to the Titans.

“I do hope you’re right.” Crane sighs. “Tell me everything that happened in San Fransisco, with all of the Titans.”

Jason lets out a sigh before he spills every piece of information. He tells him everything from Trigon to Deathstroke to CADMUS. He tells him about the Titans turning on him for something he didn’t do, you talking him off the roof. Dick's confession and Donna’s death. Everything.

Then he tells Crane everything he knows about Bruce. The manor, the Batcave. Everything. He tells Crane about his training and the cabin, how Bruce found him and how Bruce found Dick. He spills and Crane lets him talk. Crane listens a lot but asks questions where he finds needed but he mostly just lets Jason talk as Jason keeps you out of it as much as he can. Jason is far more cooperative when it comes to everyone else.

Crane figures once he figures out the formula, he can get more information on you and use it against him if he needs to. He can’t have anyone if this is going to work and Crane knows exactly how he’ll be able to accomplish it. But for now, it’s about the Titans and Bruce. By the time Jason finishes, he’s got the formula tucked away in his pocket, ready to let fear go.

Jason pulls his phone from his pocket once he’s far enough away from Arkham. He’s spent the walk running over every lie he could tell you. Guilt eats at him with every step he takes. You're gonna kill him. He’s gonna lie to you because he knows for a fact, you’ll freak out. You’ll think he’s gone off the deep end and you’ll tell Dick. You’ll drag him kicking and screaming out of Gotham. You’ll tell Arkham and he won’t be able to see Crane again. It’s not fair and it’s not right. But you can’t know. And a part of him finds that to be unfair, too because he’s gonna fix his fear while you have to suffer with yours. That’s not fair to you. So, he thinks.

Maybe he can figure out a way to bring it up without bringing it up. Maybe he can try to see how you’d feel about a way to get rid of fear. If you seem for it, then he can tell you. He can see if you want to help. But the more he thinks about that, the more he thinks about Crane.

You’d have to be involved with him. Jason doesn’t want you involved with him. Not him. And he knows, the second he tells you about Crane, you’ll lose it. Even if you want a cure-all. You’ll bail the second you hear about Crane. You would never work with a guy like that. So, he has no choice. It’s that or end it and he doesn’t want to do that either.

“Hey.” Jason says as you pick up the phone.

“Jay? Where are you? I’ve been texting you to make sure you were okay.” He can hear your worry and he thinks maybe the anti-fear drug will make him not worry. Maybe you don’t want to worry so much.

“I’m sorry.” Jason clears his throat. “I needed to clear my damn head. I’m fine. Can you come get me, please?”

“Yeah, of course. Where are you?” You answer and Jason can hear you rustling on the other end.

“I’ll text you the address.” Jason states. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” You hang up and get to your feet while Jason texts you the address.

When you reach Jason, he’s soaked. Your heart aches, feeling like it’s being squeezed right through your rib cage at the sight of him. He looks exhausted and lost. He looks distant and he is drenched from the winter rain. Something bad happened and you have no idea how you're going to be able to help.

You take off your helmet, not getting off the bike. “Jay, are you okay?”

Jason gets up from the curb and walks up to you, offering you a fake smile. “Yeah.” His jaw clenches and he doesn’t even want to go home. He doesn’t want to see Bruce. He’d rather be outside in the cold. “All good.”

“What happened?” You reach out but Jason dodges you, reaching for his helmet. A lump grows in your throat. He doesn’t dodge you. Not like that.

“Bruce took Robin away.” Jason’s voice cracks as he shakes his head.

He dodges your stare. He doesn’t want to see the look you’ll give him. On the one hand, he’ll feel guilty. He’ll feel guilty for lying and talking to Crane. And on the other, you’ll give him a look that screams pity and that is the last thing he needs. Jason Todd doesn’t need anyone’s pity.

“What do you mean?” You question.

“Like fucking permanently. He said I can’t be Robin anymore.” Jason lets out a bitter scoff as he feels the anger come back to his bloodstream.

“Jay, I’m so sorry.” You say softly.

You never thought Bruce would take it away like that. Jason has been doing everything Bruce asked him to do. Ever since the Pete Hawkins thing, Jason has backed off entirely. He is putting a real effort into therapy, really trying to let the process help. Why would Bruce rip it away from him?

“Fuck him. I’m gonna fucking show him he’s wrong. He's fucking wrong about me.” Jason grits his teeth.

“He is.” You nod your head. “Come on. Let’s get you home and warm and we can talk more, okay?”

“Whatever.” Jason scoffs, popping his helmet on before he gets on the back and holds onto you while you drive back to the manor.

You get Jason back to the manor and into a warm shower. He says almost nothing. It’s as if he’s completely numb and it breaks you to see him like this. Jason is anything but quiet in a shower with you, usually. And he’s always handsy and cheeky. But, tonight, he’s just quiet, going through the motions, stuck on his own head.

You don’t understand how Bruce could take Robin away like that. It’s not fair. Jason does what Bruce asks him to and he messes up sometimes but that’s normal. How does he not see Robin is the most important thing to him? You even told him that. And he took Robin anyway. He never should have let him be Robin in the first place if this was something that could happen. Dick almost killed someone and he didn’t take Robin from Dick. Jason tries his best. Why isn’t that good enough for Bruce?

Dick was always right about him.

Jason plops onto your bed, his eyes red and puffy. His heart feels like it’s being crushed by cinderblocks. It all hurts. How did he really let another person down? How was he fooled into believing Bruce was different than everyone else? He thinks about his dad. His dad wasn’t a good person but Jason, sometimes, wonders if it was him. Maybe it was his fault his dad was like that. Maybe it was different before him. His dad didn’t choose to be his dad. But Bruce chose it. And still is giving up on him. Jason is Bruce’s son by choice, he thought the choice of picking a son, would make it different. But it’s the same old story Jason hates retelling.

He fucks up and people give up.

“Want me to rub your back while you tell me about it?” You offer as you stand in between his legs, looking down at him.

Jason looks up at you and you always worried so much. He wishes he could be better so you wouldn’t worry about him. He wonders why you choose him. You don’t have to, like Bruce. But you do. He wonders if one day you’ll stop. If his mom and his dad and his uncle and Dick and Bruce all chose other things over him, why wouldn't you? But he looks up at you and you give him this soft smile with your fingertips brushing his knees with care and he thinks you're still different than everyone else.

Jason cracks a soft smile. “Yeah, actually. Thank you.”

“Of course.” You smile softly.

Jason switches to his stomach, facing the TV just as you did the first day you started your friends-with-benefits situation. You sit on top of him and run your hands over his back. Your hands are cold, sending goosebumps up his spine. Your hands are always cold, something he always finds a bit ironic given the acid generation warms your hands. But your fingers are soft as you trace over the scars on his back. You do it every time and he always meant to ask.

“Why do you do that?” Jason asks, his eyes closed with his head on his hands.

“Do what?” You ask as you start rubbing his shoulders.

“Trace the scars.”

“I dunno.” You shake your head and you didn’t realize you did it often enough for him to notice.

You're not even sure why you do it. It’s something mindless. Maybe it’s your subconscious wishing if you trace them enough times, it’ll remove the damage the scars have caused him, like a magic eraser. Or maybe tracing the scars is confirmation he’s real.

Sometimes, you have a hard time believing he’s real. All of this is real. You used to dream of a life outside of the basement, sometimes they’d feel so real you could swear they were. Wishful thinking.

Maybe you trace them as confirmation that the raised and paled skin is real, Jason is here with you and you're not dreaming. Maybe you like the way the scars look on his skin but he managed to pull through all of his terrible shit and make it out the other end with a smart mouth and a heart of gold anyway. Maybe, you just do it because you care about him regardless of the scars and what made them.

“Does it bother you?” You ask softly.

“No.” Jason answers. “Just wondering.”

It always makes him feel vulnerable, a harsh reminder he is not invincible as much as he likes to believe he is sometimes. He might have survived those injuries but they’re there as harsh reminders. And you touch them and he thinks maybe you find comfort in them, because you have them, too. And that’s always enough for him. He thinks it makes him feel human and real and alive. He always feels a little exposed but it’s become comforting with you.

“What happened?”

He thinks he has his lies in order. He knows he might be sabotaging the relationship. Despite everything he thinks as you massage over the scar on his back, he knows. He knows you might not forgive him. There’s always a chance you won’t be so understanding when you inevitably find out because you always figure him out. But it's a risk he has to take.

He can’t keep doing this anymore. He can’t keep not sleeping. He can’t keep shaking and freezing. He can’t keep living like this. He knows he can’t. It’ll destroy him. It’ll be miserable. The idea of going back to being useless and not good enough and a disappointment, he can’t live like that. He needs help now, before Bruce finds his replacement. Maybe you’ll understand that part.

“He fucking said he made mistakes and I guess I’m fucking one of them.” Jason scoffs from under you.

You narrow your eyes thinking Bruce didn’t actually say that. You have no faith in Bruce to communicate worth a shit given your conversation with him and given Jason and Dick. And Bruce might be very good at hiding his emotions, but you know he actually cares about Jason. You don’t think Bruce would ever tell Jason he was a mistake, even if he thought it.

“He said that?” You ask, pausing for a few seconds.

“Basically!” Jason groans. “And he doesn’t want to make more mistakes and he said I can’t be Robin anymore. He thinks I’m a fucking mental case. He doesn’t care it’s important to me. He doesn’t care that I’m doing what he wants me to. It doesn’t matter to him. It’s fucking bullshit.” Jason’s voice shakes as his back tenses under your palms.

“That’s not fair. I don’t know why he would do that. You were always a great Robin.” You say softly.

You wish you could have heard the conversation so you would know better what to say. But, you also know, even if Bruce didn’t say any of that and it came out wrong, it wouldn’t change anything for you to decipher it for him. At the end of the day, Bruce could have outright told Jason he loves him and he doesn’t want him to die and Jason would still be absolutely crushed with Robin being ripped away from him. Bruce’s delivery of the message doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything.

“Just fucking tired of being scared.” Jason lets out a defeated sigh. “Fucking gave up on me. Ya know, thought he was fucking different.” His voice is etched in pain and you wish you could take it all away. He never deserves the pain he gets.

It’s honest. He can be honest with you about that. Maybe he wants you to figure it out.

“Yeah, I get it. Being scared really sucks. You’ll get better though. I know I keep saying it but it takes time, Jay. Bruce should be giving you more time.” You say. “I’m really sorry about him.” You lean down and press a kiss to his shoulder blade. “You still have me, okay?”

He knows. He’ll always have you. Somewhere inside of him, he knows. The anxiety of you freaking out and leaving when you figure it out is there, but he also knows he’s given you every opportunity to take off and run. And you never do. You’d understand his desperation. You'd understand why he lied. He knows he still has you.

“What if there were a cure for fear?” Jason asks and he’s glad you can’t see his face. You’d know.

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow.

“What if there was a cure? Like we can just take it and not be scared anymore.” Jason listens carefully, feeling your hands pause on his back. He knows without looking that you've got your right eyebrow raised at him, your eyes narrowing at him as if you can’t decide if he’s joking or serious.

“I mean that’d be great, but there would be consequences, right?” You question.

You're a little concerned with the question. But, that’d be insane. It’d be insane for him to really look for a cure to fear. You swear he’s just talking, doing one of his hypothetical talks he does like you do about the zombie apocalypse.

“Like what? Being fearless sounds pretty fucking good right about now.” Jason scoffs.

“We’ll, fear is just adrenaline, right? But that fear also keeps you looking both ways before crossing the street, it alerts you when someone is following you home. Without fear, also means you won’t have excitement. You’ll probably be emotionally numb to a lot of things. Not having adrenaline is dangerous though.” You answer.

“Yeah, but isn’t that fucking better than being scared all the damn time? You’re afraid of everything, too and your nightmares are back. You wouldn’t want something to stop it?” Jason looks over his shoulder.

Your nightmares came back a week and a half ago. You and Molly were on a walk and ran into Jerry’s Gotham house. You still don’t know how you missed it, but you did. You were walking and having a good time and you saw the house and that was it. You broke and it’s like all of the progress you made over the last few months evaporated into the atmosphere. Molly had to call Jason because you were having a panic attack and couldn’t snap out of it. The nightmares came back that night.

“Of course, I would.” You shrug.

You think about it and maybe it would be nice. If nothing else, just so you could get some damn proper sleep. So, you both could get some proper sleep. Maybe if you both got some sleep, you’d be better. Maybe Jason makes a good point but then you think about how happy you are when you see him and when a new movie comes out and your marathons with Gar. You wouldn’t want to trade those feelings for being fearless.

“But not if it means getting rid of everything else. Adrenaline also keeps us alive. I’ve been numb and that’s worse than being scared. Why?” You ask. “You trying to find a cure to fear or something?”

“No.” Jason scoffs, letting out a fake laugh and he was really hoping you’d be on his side with this one. “Just fucking saying, wish there were a cure. At least so I can be Robin.”

“Look, it sucks, Jaybird. But I don’t think the answer to being Robin is being fearless. You had to use that fear to survive out there, too. You’re gonna be okay and then you can go out and be your own hero. You don’t have to be Robin. Dick quit and became Nightwing. You don’t need Bruce to help people.” You say. “And I still think you’re plenty good enough. I’m just saying, if Bruce won’t let you, do it yourself when you get better. You’re good enough.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Jason sighs. “Maybe you’re right but he doesn’t believe in me anymore.” Jason says and you know it’s never your approval he’ll need. And that’s okay but you wish sometimes, like tonight, it were enough. “I’m gonna prove him wrong.”

“Good, fuck Bruce.” You smile softly. “Just…give it a little bit, okay? Keep seeing Leslie, too. She’s been helping.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Jason huffs.

“I’m serious, Jason. You do sleep more now. Seeing her is helping, just keep up with it. And then we’ll go out together. Fuck Bruce. We’ll be our own team.” You let out a soft chuckle.

“Thanks.” Jason lets out a sigh.

You make good points but his mind is made up. He’s going to do this. He doesn’t have time to wait around and hope for the best. He isn’t going to Leslie. He’s going to make the anti-fear drug and he won’t be scared anymore. Maybe you're right. Maybe he’ll be numb to everything but he doesn’t care anymore. He is desperate for a cure. He needs it. Maybe he can only use it to be Robin, just to prove himself. It’ll be a quick fix and that’ll be the end of it. Just use it out there and to sleep. You make good points, but he has to do this. And he is so sorry he has to lie about it.

Jason turns from under you so he can face you and you place your hands on his chest. You have a soft smile and he feels so guilty but you’ll understand. You’ll get it when he can function better, it’s just until this whole shit wears off. You’ll get it. If anyone will, it’ll be you.

“Thanks for not giving up on me.” Jason places his hands on your thighs, his thumbs rubbing softly against your bare skin.

“You and me.” You smile softly.

“Yeah.” Jason smiles looking at the necklace hanging from your neck. You haven't taken it off since he gave it to you. “You and me.”

“You okay?” Your voice is filled with love as you ask. No one ever asked like that before.

“Yeah.” Jason answers simply. “Just glad you’re here.”

“You sure? I’m really worried about you.” Your brows knit together. “You know I’ll always be here. No matter what.”

“I’m not gonna walk off a roof, I swear.” Jason’s eyes widen as a grin tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Good. I just know this is bad for you. I just hope you believe me because I believe in you.”

Jason sits up and places his fingers under your chin. “Thanks. Look, I’ll be fucking fine. Trust me. I got a plan.” Jason offers you a grin.

“That’s still mildly unsettling coming from you.” You smile. “What’s the plan?” You widen your eyes as your hands come to his shoulders, a teasing smirk coming to your lips.

“You’ll see.” Jason drops his hand to your waist.

“Oh, you’re not gonna tell me?” You laugh.

“What’s that you always say?” Jason teases. “We don’t always get what we want.” And he says your name, it comes out a little groveled but his voice is teasing.

“Shut up.” You groan.

“Do you trust me?” Jason asks as his hands squeeze your hips softly.

“Of course, I do. You know I do.” You answer.

“Trust me then. I got a plan. I’ll be back out there and proving everyone else wrong.” Jason holds his head with confidence.

You raise a brow at him. “Why do I have a bad feeling about that?” Jason and plans aren’t always a bad combination but he is desperate and hurt right now. You remember the last plan he had when he felt this way.

“Don’t. I got this. Like you said, I’ll be fine.” Jason presses a kiss to your lips.

“Right yeah, you will be.” You let out a sigh and you think it can’t be that bad. He’d tell you. “Okay. You’ll tell me through, right?”

“Of course, you and me.” Jason gives you a wild grin.

He hopes you won’t be mad.

The next day, Jason rents an apartment and sets up to work on making the anti-fear drug. ?You had plans with Molly anyway and that was the perfect excuse for him to get here all by himself to get to work. Plus, Bruce had to go out of town so that's one less person he has to worry about.

He feels guilt gnawing at his stomach like a bad stomach ulcer. But he works anyway. He works through it because this is the only way. And even if he wanted to back out, he already told Crane everything. If he wanted to back out, Crane could use that information against him. But, he doesn’t want to back out anyway, so he pushes the guilt and anxiety away as he puts together a botched drug.

You grow suspicious over the next few days. Jason is making weird and random excuses not to hang out. He’s always trying to get you to hang out more with Molly or for you to head to Excellent Gotham and get to know Tim better. You always need more friends, apparently. Normally, you wouldn’t think too much of it. Or you’d be worried he was distancing himself to leave. But it’s Jason and he’s definitely hiding something, so you follow him one day.

Your phone rings as you hide in the alley beside the building Jason walked into.

“Hello?” You ask.

“Why are you following me?” Jason asks.

He caught onto you following him a few blocks from the apartment he’s been using. He was Robin and a street kid, he knows when someone is following him. And he feels bad about it. For you to follow him, you have to be really worried. He doesn’t track you unless you get kidnapped and you don’t track him on his phone. You don’t follow each other. But you are. And he needs to find a way to assure you.

“I—“ You pause. “I-I’m not following you.” You scoff.

“Yeah, you are.” Jason states as he walks through the opposite end of the alley.

“Why do you think that?” You raise, crossing your arm across your chest.

“I can see you.” Jason answers, pulling the phone away from his ear as you jump, turning around to see Jason.

To be fair, you should have known he'd figure it out. But, you tried to be subtle and keep a far enough distance away from him. You put in a lot of effort. He's just more vigilant than you are, apparently.

“Oh, hey, Jay.” You give him a cheeky smile with a nervous laugh. “Whatcha doing?”

You might be following him. You might be figuring it out a little sooner than he'd personally like. But, he does find it a little cute. And a little amusing you really thought Jason wouldn't figure it out.

“Walking, what’re you doing, babe?” Jason quips, closing the rest of the distance between you.

You sigh in defeat. “Following you.”

Jason lets out a hearty laugh. “No shit. Why?”

“You’ve been…weird, sneaking around. Worried about you.” You groan as you scrunch your nose.

He's really not trying to worry you. He doesn't want you to worry about him anymore. Even if you would be completely against an anti-fear drug, a part of him thinks maybe if he has it, you won't have too many reasons to worry about him anymore. The way Jason sees it, he was always better off with less fear. Maybe the drug helping him, will help you. In a roundabout way.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m just working on something, alright?” He’s giving you that toothy grin that is always trouble.

“Right…that’s not nearly as reassuring as you think it is.” You quip back, the smile falling short.

“It’s a surprise, alright? Don’t worry so much.”

“A surprise?” You raise a brow.

“A surprise.” Jason echoes and it’s not technically a lie. “You said you trust me.”

“I do.” You groan. “I’m sorry. You just never sneak around. It’s weird, even for you.”

You chew the inside of your cheek and maybe you're being paranoid. You've always been a little on the paranoid side, especially since Jerry. And the paranoia decided to come back in full force with the nightmares. Maybe you're just paranoid, more worried about losing him. Things have been good, between you at least, you always get scared when things are good for too long.

Jason puts his hands on your shoulders. “I’m fine, babe. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Promise?” You ask.

“Promise.” Jason nods.

“Fine.” You sigh, taking his arms off of your shoulders and holding his right hand. “Just…whatever you’re up to, be careful.”

“Always.” Jason beams, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll see you at home, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.” You sigh, kissing him softly.

“Love you.” Jason grins, walking past you.

“I love you, too.” You watch him walk off and you really have a bad feeling about this one. But you can’t follow him and you have no reason not to trust him. So, you let him walk as you head back the way you came.

The next day, Jason gets the formula right. He uses an inhaler to take it and every fear he has ever had, melts away. It works. He did it. He got his cure to fear. So, he heads back to Arkham, high on the drug to confirm to Crane he got it despite the shotty formula.

And Crane already had a plan in motion. He had a feeling Jason would figure it out. So, he set up a plan and it’s time for the plan to go into motion so they can make Gotham theirs. Crane needs Jason to prove it works. What better way than to have him face off with the Joker alone? That’ll surely prove it. But, what Jason doesn’t know, is that Crane knows the downside to life without fear. Of course, he does. He’s the expert in it. Crane already has someone on the outside ready to handle it when this does not go the way Jason thinks it will. But is it perfect for Crane, another thing to hold over Jason’s head to control him.

And Jason doesn’t see the motive. So, Crane tells him to go after the Joker to prove it works and prove to the Bat he can do this. Jason doesn’t need Bruce. He can take care of the Joker all by himself. Jason, lacking all apprehension and self-preservation thanks to the drug, agrees easily. He’s not scared of him.

That next night, Jason convinces you to run out to the store. You were talking about needing some supplies for your scrapbook. You're reluctant at first, but decide to go. It’ll be quick. And Jason gets to work tracking the Joker.

But, with Jason at home, something just does not feel right to you. You make it all the way to the store, hoping the feeling will it go away, but it doesn't. So, you decide to call Molly, maybe Molly can talk you down.

“Hey.” Molly chimes through the phone.

“Hey, you busy?” You ask as you sit on the bike outside of the store.

“No, what’s up?”

You pause. It’s eating at you. Jason was weird as fuck last night when he came home and he’s been weird today. Convincing you to go to the store was weird. Him not coming with is also weird. And you have that feeling in the pit of your stomach. You shouldn’t have left.

“You….uh, I don’t know. I think I’m having a bad feeling so I just…need to talk I think.” You shake your head, the helmet weighing on your head a bit.

“What’s going on? Where’s Jason?” Molly asks.

“Home.” You answer. “I went to the store, he didn’t wanna come.”

“Is everything okay with you guys?”

“Yeah, yeah, all good. Not, uh, not what I wanted to talk about actually.”

“What’s going on?”

“Uh…do you…you know when something bad is gonna happen like really bad and you just….get this feeling? Like…right in the center of your stomach?”

You think you're being paranoid. It only happened once when your mom died. But since Jerry, you're always paranoid and the feeling comes back. Sometimes it’s wrong. Sometimes, it’s just you being paranoid. And you know that’s what this has to be because what could possibly happen to Jason at the manor?

“Yeah.” Molly nods her head because it happened with her mom. She just knew. “You have that feeling?”

“Yeah…I don’t know. Sometimes it's wrong. But it just…I don’t know. Feels bad.” You let out a sigh.

“When did it start?”

“Right before I left. Like, I got on the bike and I just….I don’t know. I think I’m gonna go home.” You shake your head and you can go home. You can always come back tomorrow.

“Are you sure? I mean...what if it’s a coincidence? Two’s a coincidence.” Molly tries to assure you.

“Yeah, I know but….what if it’s not? Can you stay on the phone with me while I get back?” You just can’t do it. It’s not a big deal.

“Yeah, of course.” Molly nods her head and you start the bike, taking off back to the manor. “What do you think it is?” Molly asks, mostly to talk you down.

“I don’t know.” You answer. “Jason’s been acting weird lately. I don’t know. I can’t explain it. It’s not….he’s…something’s off with him and I don’t know why I came. He told me to and maybe I listen to him a little too much sometimes. He said he was fine but I don’t know. I got a real bad feeling.” You groan.

“How far are you from the manor?”

“Like twenty minutes.”

“Well, if something is going on, you’re not that far and you haven’t been gone long. He couldn’t have gotten into too much trouble.” Molly tries to assure you but it doesn’t work.

The more you talk, the more paranoid you get. You know Molly is right. He couldn’t have gotten into too much trouble in the last half hour. But you worry anyway.

“Yeah, hey, can you conference him in? Just…give me some piece of mind before I get back.”

“Yeah, of course.” Molly states as she pulls the phone away from her ear and adds Jason to the call. The two of you listen as the phone rings and rings and rings. And then goes to voicemail.

“Fuck.” You let out a scoff as panic starts to flood your system.

“Maybe he’s--”

“No, he’d answer if it were you while I’m out. Call again.” You state and Molly does as told, getting voicemail again. You shake your head and you pull the throttle back, kicking the bike into third.

“Slow down.” Molly urges. “I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he’s just in the bathroom.” Molly says as she hears the bike rev further.

“He’d answer. I know he would. Double calls. He would because why would you call him twice in a row unless it were important?” You argue.

You're begging for you to be wrong. You hope against everything in your body you're wrong. This one time, you have to be wrong.

“Okay, so what do you think is going on?” Molly asks.

“I don’t know!” You groan. “That’s the problem. I have no idea what’s been going on with him. I followed him a few days ago and he brushed it off. Like it was no big deal but he was sneaking around behind my back. He said he was planning something or some shit. Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.”

“You don’t think he’s like cheating--”

“No! Of course, not. He would never. I….” You bite your tongue because Molly doesn’t know about Robin. “I don’t know what the fuck he’s been doing but now he’s not answering. And I got this feeling. Hold on I’m at a stop light.” You groan, quick-dialing Jason as you watch the red light. The two of you listen as it goes to voicemail. And you try again. Voicemail. “Something’s wrong.” You say as the light turns green and you start weaving between cars.

“Because he’s not answering and you have a feeling? You sound paranoid.”

“I know.” You grit your teeth. “But he’d answer for me. I know he would. Especially calling him twice. He’d answer. I just...remember a few weeks ago when he got his ass kicked?”

“Yeah.” Molly wishes she could forget.

“Okay, so what if he went out on his own to try that guy again or something?” You spit, avoiding details about Robin because you're thinking he’s out Robining alone for some sort of spite against Bruce. He’s still mad. And maybe he froze and it got bad.

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s Jason.” You let out a breath.

You get back to the manor, switching the call to your phone instead of your helmet. You make your way into the manor and call for Jason. The manor is silent. It’s not even like that’s abnormal. Jason isn’t really loud and neither is Bruce. But, the quiet and lack of Jason answering is eery and unsettling.

You search your rooms and living rooms and kitchens. He’s nowhere to be found and your heart sinks further. So, you go to the Batcave. Hoping maybe, he’s just training. Maybe Molly is right. Maybe he’s just busy. Maybe his phone died and he didn’t realize it. That’s possible. It’s Jason. He isn’t the type that’s glued to his phone. Maybe.

But that hope dies as you reach the Batcomputer, seeing Amusement Mile pulled up with the Joker’s location.

No, no, no, no.

“I’m sure he went out and he’ll be--”

“Fuck!” You yell as you look to the display case. The Robin suit is gone.

Molly calls your name and now she’s worried.

“What a fucking---” You cut yourself off as you grit your teeth. “Molly, I gotta go.”

“Molly yells your name, her voice now completely panicked.

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I’ll call you. I have to call Bruce.” You rush as you hang up, running over to your own display case holding your suit. You rip the case open and grab the suit as you put Bruce on speaker. “Bruce!?” You yell into the phone as you jump around, getting the suit on as fast as you can.

This can’t be happening. The Joker? Of all fucking people, that’s who he decides he’s going to go after to prove himself? Why the hell would he ever do that? You try your best not to focus on the millions of questions you have for him and the fact you're ready to scream at him for the twenty-four hours. You have to focus because it’s the fucking Joker. He’s taken too much from you.

Bruce can hear the absolute panic in your voice. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Jason! I fucking told you! He went after the fucking Joker!” You scream into the phone as you zip the front of your suit and put the mask over your mouth.

“I told him not to.” Bruce says calmly, but a part of him is panicking.

Bruce doesn’t panic but there is no way you would be calling him and telling him this if it weren’t true. Jason knows better. Why would he go after the Joker? On his own?

“Oh, because Jason is so fucking good at following instructions?!” You run over to the weapons once you're completely suited up.

On the one hand, Bruce could send you after him. That’s at least, two against one. But, it’s the Joker. And Bruce knows he’s more ruthless than anyone. It’s a fun game to him like whack-a-mole. And the prize is always bloodshed. He also knows how you feel and if he sends you, not only could you go out and get killed but you could kill him first. That’s a life on Bruce’s conscious.

“Do not go anywhere. I’m on a flight—“

“No! You don’t get to tell me to fucking sit here and hope for the fucking best. He is everything to me and I am not gonna sit here and let him get fucking killed, Bruce!” You seeth and the Joker should have been killed a long fucking time ago. You swear, if the Joker even lays a single finger on him, you’ll do it her damn self. Bruce is too much of a coward of what he could become if he did it. You don’t care. “The Robin suit is gone, the Joker is gonna fucking kill him and it’s all your fault!” You scream as you gather knives.

“Stay put.” Bruce is stern on the other line. “It will be dangerous and you aren’t prepared--”

“No! Fuck you!” You snip back, gathering as many knives as you can carry. “I’m gonna save him, kill the damn Joker since you’re too damn cowardly to do it and then I’m calling Dick.” You fume on the other end. “I’m gonna beg him if I have to to come and bring us back to San Franciso because fucking clearly, he’s worse off here!” You scream before hanging up the phone and heading towards the exit.

It’s not that he’s scared or even feeling uneasy. His head is clouded with a sense of nothing. Everything is just numb as he cuts the chain into the amusement park.

Jason should be scared and there’s a gnawing at the back of his head that is screaming and howling for him to be scared. To turn around. This is a bad idea. This is bad. There are red flashing lights begging him to turn around but that sense of adrenaline that would normally kick in and give him a little bit of common sense and self-preservation is being suppressed. It doesn’t exist. So, the normally loud and blinding lights that have been causing him so much pain over the last few months, aren’t loud enough. They’re useless.

As he walks further into the amusement park, he finds old and run-down games that grab his attention. This is the Joker’s hideout. It’s known. Of course, the maniac clown would like a closed amusement park. And Jason knows he should be hypervigilant. This is the Joker’s turf and he knows the Joker is here. But the drug keeps suppressing that, too.

He knows he should be more aware and more on guard but the drug gives him a false sense of confidence. He can do this. It’s the Joker. He’s just some crazy clown and if Bruce can take him down several times, Jason can do it. Bruce trained him, right? He knows better though. He should be scared and more aware. but then there’s a noise from behind him and he jumps anyway.

His heart skips before plummeting back into a resting rhythm as he spots a dead man with a creepy smile tugged on display. Jason’s eyes widen and there’s this small, tiny bit of fear that seems to bypass the anti-fear drug like a leaky faucet. And Jason starts to hear and see the red flashing lights in the back of his head in perfect color. But the point is that he isn’t supposed to feel fear at all.

Maybe his formula is a little off. How is he feeling any sense of fear? It’s barely there, barely even noticeable but it’s there enough where if he were in a normal state of mind, that alone would send him into a panic. He’d panic about being worried he’s going to panic. And that thought with the mixing of the drug, makes him miss the creeping steps of the Joker from behind him.

With a quick swing, a crowbar connects to Jason’s head and he’s sent right to the ground.

His head throbs and aches, a horrendous and shooting pain sending his head into a spin as his stomach turns. Blood drips down from his forehead, the warm liquid seeping down his cheek as he looks up to see the menacing and sadistic smile of the Joker looking down at him just as he pulls his arm back for another swing.

This swing connects with his jaw and Jason can hear the bone break. Jason’s mouth pools with blood, the taste of iron already becoming more nauseating. He groans out in agony as the Joker takes another hit to his head, his laugh echoing through the park.

His laugh rings through Jason’s ears with every blow and Jason thinks that laugh can penetrate any type of anti-fear drug. His hearing seems to get worse and worse but that laugh could pierce through solid steel. And he’s not supposed to be scared anymore.

But the Joker hits him again and Jason coughs up blood and fear starts to rush into his veins. Maybe it’s the overwhelming amount of adrenaline making the anti-fear drug wear off a lot sooner than it should. Maybe his formula needs to be tweaked. Maybe the anti-fear drug has a side effect, maybe it doesn’t work when he’s on the brink of death. Jason can’t think straight enough to figure it out. Instead, all he thinks is that he has never been more terrified than he is right now.

SMACK

WHACK

CRACK

Jason’s bones break as Joker takes a break from his face and works on his side and then his arms and legs. He swears this is the worst pain he has ever been in. The Joker hits him over and over and over again, the pain getting worse and worse as tears brim his eyes. He claws at the ground in desperation, a failing attempt to move away. But, the bones are being broken one by one and he can feel the shards with every movement. And he is so fucking sorry.

SMACK

He’s so sorry to Bruce because he should have listened. He should have been a better Robin. He should have listened. He’s so sorry he wasn’t better. He’s so sorry he wasn��t a better son. He tried his absolute best but he could have tried harder. Maybe he could have told Bruce what was going on. Maybe he could have told Bruce more about therapy. Maybe he could have explained anything that ever happened with him. Maybe he could have just tried to be a son. He’s so sorry and all he wants to do is tell Bruce he’s sorry. And thank you.

He wants to thank Bruce for trying. For taking him in. Letting him be his son and letting him be Robin. Bruce, in his weird way, cared about him and loved him. He tried even if he sucked at it sometimes. Jason wants to tell Bruce thank you.

SMACK

Jason screams as the crowbar finally shatters one of his ribs. His breathing is becoming ragged as the Joker takes another swing to Jason’s chest. The Robin suit offers a lot of protection but the Joker is relentless. He’s getting off on every scream and groan and gasp Jason lets out. It’s as if the sight of the blood seeping onto the ground and the backswing of splatter gets him off. He’s having the time of his life beating Jason to death. And Jason has never been more scared.

SMACK

He’s so scared and sorry. He’s so fucking sorry to you and he would give anything to tell you that right now. All he wants to do is call you. He wants to take it all back. He wants to go back home and crawl into your bed with you. He wants to hug you and kiss you and promise he’s doing okay and he’ll be okay. And you’ll be okay. He wants to promise you that it’ll all work out in the end, even if he doesn’t make it. He wants to tell you not to be mad or sad because he doesn’t deserve it. You don’t deserve to dwell on his inevitable death.

You both knew it was going to be him. You liked to fool yourself into thinking maybe it would be you but at the end of the day, you both knew it would always be him. Jason always knew it was gonna be him who died first. And he wants nothing more than to promise you it’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. He doesn’t want you to run yourself into the ground over him. But he knows you and he knows as the Joker takes another horrendous and agonizing hit to his skull, you’ll be miserable. This will be it for you. He’s not gonna make it and you're gonna lose your entire mind. You always said you would. And it’s all his fault.

SMACK

CRACK

He wants to shake you and tell you he’s so fucking sorry. He should have just told you what was going on. He should have told you. You would have helped him. You wouldn’t have been mad or yelled at him. Of all people, you would have understood why he went to Crane. You would have gotten it. You always understood him. And he should have told you.

He shouldn’t have lied to you. He’s so fucking sorry. And he’s so sorry for not loving you better, you deserve someone who’s not gonna do this. You deserve someone who’s not gonna get killed and didn’t even stand a damn chance. And he is so sorry he’s going to leave you alone.

He doesn’t think he’s gonna make it.

The Joker's laugh starts to sound further away as he takes another blow to the right side of his face, the crowbar connecting hard and steady against his ear. Then he can’t hear anything from that ear at all as blood starts to drip out. It’s the worst headache of Jason’s life. He can hear his skull cracking under the blows. He feels the blood seeping through his suit and onto the ground. There’s so much blood. He’s lightheaded and dizzy. It’s so hard to breathe.

SMACK

He’s not gonna make it.

And he finds himself, hoping against all odds, that someone will find him soon anyway. Maybe help will come just in time. Bruce is supposed to be the world’s greatest detective. Jason is his son. He’d figure it out. Maybe he already did and he’s actually close. Maybe he lied to Jason and he’s actually in Gotham and on his way. And maybe, you figured it out.

You're smart. You can fight off the Joker enough to get you both to safety. You were trained by Jason, Dick, Bruce. Jason believes you could do it. Maybe you're on your way. You're smart. You know Jason better than anyone. You’ll figure it out. You always figure it out. Maybe help is coming.

SMACK

Everything goes black for just a few seconds and then it’s blurry and shifted. He can’t see out of his right eye. Jason doesn’t know what’s going on as the Joker takes another smack. His laugh is just a reverberation now. The only sound he can even hear is the cracking of bones. Nothing else. And he doesn’t think he can breathe real well. He can’t move his jaw. He can’t even find the strength to try to move anymore. It all hurts and there’s so much blood.

Jason silently begs for the help he doesn’t realize will be too late just as the Joker takes a larger and harder blow to the front of his face.

He doesn’t think he’s gonna be able to hold on.

You drive to the abandoned carnival, coming up on one of the gates. Jason’s bike and helmet are right outside and the chain to the gate has been cut. You know. You know this isn’t good. It’s completely silent and you are terrified.

Silence can’t be good and a part of you hopes that maybe the Joker wants to play with Bruce. Maybe the Joker wants to kill Jason in front of him, to taunt him, that’ll give you some time to have a plan and get you both out of there, maybe. Or Bruce could make it in time to save you both.

But you creep around the grounds, cautiously but quickly. You're paying close attention to your head, making sure you don’t miss it if the throbbing you're certain will start. But, it doesn’t. Instead, you reach an open tunnel with carnival games and there’s someone lying on the ground.

It’s dark and despite you knowing damn well if it were the Joker on the ground, Jason would be over him bragging and cheering for himself, you hope it’s the Joker anyway. You hope against everything that the person laying on the ground is the Joker.

The closer you get though, the more you get the picture of the yellow and black cape.

Jason.

“No…” Your lip quivers as you pause. You're terrified to get any closer. It can’t be Jason. It can’t be. It can’t be. It can’t be. He’s strong and smart. He knows better. “No, no, no, no…” Your voice cracks as you start to walk closer and you can see him now.

There’s blood everywhere. He’s laying in a puddle of red and there’s blood splatter on the ground and the games. A bloody crowbar is tossed to the side and Jason is completely still. Your heart is in your throat as you close the distance, dropping to your knees.

“Jay…” Your voice is a whimpered whisper as you put your hand on his shoulder, pulling him to face you.

His body is completely limp and as he turns, you get the gruesome sight of what the Joker has done.

Jason’s face is mangled and unidentifiable. You can see his teeth through his jaw while there’s blood and bruising around the other side of his face. His face is swollen and paler than usual. There’s blood smeared across his face and on his lips. Some of his hair is wet with blood and sticking to his forehead. And his eyes are closed, not even trying to open.

Your heart shatters in that instant. The weight of the world has been on your shoulders for years and with the sight of his body, the world finally falls. It tumbles around you, breaking into unfixable pieces. The foundation keeping you steady is lifeless and cold and bloody.

Your lip quivers as tears start to trickle down your cheeks. Everything around you feels heavy and cold. The lump in your throat is so big and hard, you swear it’ll suffocate you finally and you’ll finally be out of this misery. The reaper creeps back from the shadow of your head, a smile similar to Joker’s shining back at you and he’s finally won. He won in a way you never thought he would.

Killing the last good parts of you, by killing him.

“Jason…” You whimper, one of your hands hesitantly going to his neck to check for a pulse. Nothing. There’s no pulse, just cold skin under the blood. “No…” You whine, tears now blurring your vision. You lean down, trying to hear him breathe and there’s nothing. He’s completely still. No breathing. Nothing. Just lifeless. “Jay, please, you can’t die.” You let out a sob, pulling Jason’s body into your lap. “I love you. You can’t die. I need you.” Your words are slurred as your nose runs and the cries grow louder.

You sob, rocking back and forth. You knew it would happen. You knew. And you should have known Jason was up to something when he didn’t go with you today. You should have known. He can’t be dead.

You swallow the lump in your throat, moving to rest Jason’s head flat on the ground while you pull out your phone, hands covered in blood. You call Bruce, putting the phone on speaker and then you start CPR. You swear it’ll be useless but you have to try anyway.

You swore every single day that you would never give up on him. And CPR isn’t going to help, but fuck it, you're not going to give up. So, you try anyway. You have to fucking try.

“Did you find him?” Bruce asks as soon as he answers.

Those words get you to let out another cry, your arms shaking as you push down on Jason’s chest. “Bruce!” You scream as your arms tremble.

Everything stops for Bruce. Pain shoots through his heart like a barbed wire arrow. He knows. He knows that cry because he’s let it out himself all those years ago. He’s heard other people. Babs. Dick. He knows and yet, it can’t be true. Not his son.

“What happened?” Bruce shakes his head, using all of his willpower not to let his voice shake.

“What do I do?” You cry, your cries are loud but there’s a weakness in your voice. “He’s not breathing and the Joker beat him with a fucking crowbar! Bruce, what do I do?” You beg Bruce to help. Your voice is slurred and panicked, pleading with all of the energy in you. He’s fucking Batman, he has to help. “What do I do? He’s not breathing. There’s so much blood, Bruce, help, please. You have to save him. Help me save him, please. Bruce, I can’t lose him, I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t.” You keep pumping on Jason’s chest but you swear it’s not working and not just because the Robin suit is so sturdy you're barely getting a compression in. You beg him and beg him, as if your pleas are enough to bring Jason back.

“I’ll send someone, keep doing CPR.” Bruce instructs with a square jaw.

“Bruce, I don’t…..I don’t think it’s helping.” You wail and you can’t breathe. It’s so hard to breathe. “I don’t think…..Bruce….” You let out a cough as your elbows shake and you're losing rhythm of the chest compressions.

“Keep going, don’t stop until they get there. I’m landing soon.” Bruce instructs and he never should have gone. He should have seen it. How the hell did he miss this?

“There’s so much blood…Bruce.”

Barbara Gordon and a few trusted people close to Bruce show up first. They find you still trying to perform CPR. You're slower now, and you're not getting the impact you need to make a difference. Your arms are weak and you're nearly hyperventilating and choking on your own tears.

The paramedics try their best to get you off of him but you scream and yell and cry for them to get off of you. You shove them off of you and you try and try and try. Bruce is still on the phone, telling you to let them do their job but you can’t. You can’t do it. You can’t because then you give up. You can’t give up on him. Not him.

“Hey.” Barabra wheels over a few feet away from you and she gets a look at the damage as her stomach turns and she knows he’s gone. “You need to stop.” Her voice is calm as she tries to keep it together.

“No!” You scream and you feel too weak to deal with any of it. He was your everything. “I can’t.”

The paramedics look at Babraba waiting to be told what to do and they know, too. His face is completely destroyed. He’s unrecognizable. The only reason Barabra even knows it’s Jason is because of the Robin suit. There’s brain matter on the ground. There’s more blood on the ground than there is in his body.

“Bluejay.” Barbara calls again, her voice cracking and this gets you to look at her. Even in the dark, Babara can see the redness of your eyes and the tears shining on the top half of your cheek above your mask. “He’s gone.” Babraba’s eyes go misty and you shake your head.

“No…” You whine and you finally stop but your hands stay on his chest. “No, not…no.” You let out a sob and you can’t even see Barbara anymore, the tears have blurred everything together. “I can’t.” You fall back, one of the paramedics catching you so you don’t hit the pavement too hard. The other paramedic jumps in and to Jason, just to be completely positive.

You shove the paramedic off of you and walk the few feet weakly to Barbara. “I-I…what--” You suck in a harsh breath, your breathing so rapid you feel like you're going to pass out.

“Sit down.” Barbara tries to keep her composure and you collapse with a loud sob, your entire chest feeling like it’s been set on fire with gasoline.

It can’t be him. Why him? He was good. He was a good person and funny and smart and kind. Jason had a heart of gold. Why did it have to be him? It never should have been him. He always deserved so much better. He never deserved this. This isn’t fair. It’s not right and it’s so fucking painful you wish the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“Babs!” You scream. “I-I-I don’t I don’t wanna do it anymore.” Your teeth grit together as your words are wet and slurred.

You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe. It’s hard to breathe and your chest feels like it’s all caving in under the pressure. Maybe putting your heart in a pressure cooker would be less painful than this. Everything fucking hurts.

Barbara rests a hand on your shoulder and she knew Jason was reckless but she didn’t think he’d ever actually get himself killed. He was smart. Smarter than this. You cover your face with your hands, not caring you're covered in Jason’s blood. You just want everything to stop. The pain and the world and time and everything. You want it all to be over.

“I’m so sorry.” Barbara offers and there is nothing she can say that’s going to make this better.

“I can’t.” You spit and push Barabra’s hand off you before getting to your feet.

You push through the pain, running away. Barbara yells after you but you do not care. You make yourself run through the pain and the weakness. If you can do anything, it’s run from it. You want to run as far as your legs will let you. To the bike where you can speed away from it all. Speed so fast the pain goes away. The agony will fade if you run. You can do it. You tell yourself you can as tears fall down your face. You toss the helmet on and hop on the bike, and leave. You've always been good at running. You can run from it.

You're in the bathroom back at the manor, scrubbing the blood off of your hands through tears. Everything is blurry and painful. It’s burning and agonizing and stabbing. It aches and throbs. Breathing is the hardest thing you've ever done. You try to get in a full breath but every time you do, a sob immediately follows and it’s like the wind is knocked out from your lungs all over again. Your head is spinning with a throbbing headache and your eyes are so puffy you can barely open them. But, there’s blood staining your hands, Jason’s blood, and you have to get it off. You have to get it off.

Get it off. Get it off. Get it off.

You grit your teeth so hard that your jaw starts to pulse and you hate it. You hate this so much. You hate it and you want him back. You need him. He is everything to you. He is your everything. He is your best friend and you love him more than you've ever loved anyone. And he’s supposed to take care of you and you're supposed to take care of him. And it’s not fair and it’s senseless and it was brutal and you scream at the top of your lungs before falling to the floor. You lean against the counter, pulling your legs to your chest as you put your hands on your face because you can’t do this anymore

You talked about what life you could have together. And you swear you saw it. For the first time, you were optimistic about a future. Because you had him. He gave you all of this hope for the future because Jason could survive anything. He was supposed to survive anything. He was good at it. Dodging whatever fucked up shit the world was going to throw at him. And now he’s not. He didn’t dodge fast enough. And you were supposed to have an apartment one day together. And make dinner together. And have a dog and a cat because Jason always really liked cats. He’d come home and you’d clean up the blood and he’d do the same for you when patrol got a little messy. You were supposed to have a life together.

You don’t know how you're supposed to get up again after this.

And then Molly walks in.

She’s been crying since Bruce called her and asked her to check on you. He’s worried about what you might do and seeing you on the floor absolutely hysterical, she knows why. Of course, she knew it would be bad. Her best friend just lost the person she loves. Of course, you're going to be a mess but….you're covered in blood and Bruce didn’t tell her what happened. And on top of that, you still have the suit on, minus the mask, which is another surprise Molly did not expect to get today.

Molly says your name with hesitance as she walks in, sitting on the floor in front of you.

You look up, moving your hands. “M-Molly.” You whine, your bottom lip trembling, the hood of your suit barely lets Molly get a glimpse of your face that’s covered in blood as well.

Molly nods. “Bruce called.” Her voice is just above a whisper.

“He….Molly…h-h-he…d-di-died..” You let out a sob as you shake your head and you just want it to be done. You're so fucking tired.

“I know.” Molly lets out a soft cry, sniffling softly.

“H-he’s dead.” Your entire body jerks with another cry as you hang your head. You're so fucking tired. Tired of all of it.

“I know.” Molly closes the distance between you, pulling you into a hug and allowing you to completely break against her. And then Molly starts crying because Jason was her best friend, too. “I’m so sorry.” Molly manages to get out.

“I can’t do it.” Your voice is weak against her.

“Can’t what?” Molly pulls away, her hands still on your shoulders as if trying to stabilize you.

Any of it. You can’t do any of it. You're covered in his blood and it all hurts. You're weak and tired and exhausted. It’s all agonizing and paralyzing and numb. It’s all too much. And you just cannot do any of it anymore.

“Blood and…” Your breathing is labored, your head swaying slightly. And you're so lightheaded and nauseous. “Do this.”

“One thing at a time.” Molly stands up and grabs a wash rag, wetting it with soap and water. Molly can break later. You need help. “Let me see.” You hand your hand to Molly and Molly starts cleaning.

Molly expects to find some sort of wound but she finds nothing. The more she scrubs, the more blood comes off and it’s just your skin under it. And she shakes her head because what the fuck happened to Jason that got you covered in his blood? A part of her almost doesn’t want to know. But, she has to ask anyway. Bruce was a little vague. So, after a few minutes, with your cries becoming quieter, Molly decides to ask.

“C-can I ask you what happened?” Molly is seeing that you're actually one of the suited vigilantes that roam Gotham so she’s guessing something with a bad guy went a little south.

And you don’t care anymore. None of it matters anymore. Jason is dead. It’s not his secret anymore. You're in your suit anyway and Bruce isn’t home. You're all alone anyway.

“Joker beat him to death with a crowbar.” You answer plainly Molly feels her stomach turn.

“What?” Molly’s heart stops in her chest.

You nod as you sniffle, watching Molly clean the remainder of Jason’s blood from your hands. “He was Robin.” Your voice is hoarse as you talk.

Molly pauses, blinking at you and she’s so confused. And this whole thing is growing more and more unsettling. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked.

“He…Jason was Robin?”

You nod again, sniffling. “Yeah.”

“You found him?” Molly asks. Why did you have to find him? Of all people, it just had to be you. Of course, it was you.

“Yeah.” More tears start to fall from your eyes and you can see him every time you blink. That’s going to be your last memory of him and it hurts so fucking bad you want to leave.

“I’m…I’m sorry. Is this all his?” Molly’s voice grows a little panicked. She can’t even imagine the sight you walked in on.

“There was a lot of blood. The head bleeds a lot.” You clear your throat before you sniffle again.

Molly is terrified you're going to start giving her gory details. Not on purpose but because you're too tired to care. The crying is slowing down and that always means you will talk. You stop caring and then you talk. Molly doesn’t want to know and you don’t need to relive the horror verbally.

“Okay, um…okay you stay here. I’m gonna get you some clothes.” Molly stands up quickly.

“C-can you…Jsaon’s room, there’s a…maroon hoodie. It was his favorite.” You look up at her as Molly heads to the doorway.

“Yeah, I’ll be back.” Molly nods quickly.

You let out another cry and you don’t think you’ll be able to survive this one. It’s too heavy. It’s too much. There’s only so much one person can take. And you swear as you shiver on the bathroom door with broken sobs tearing up your throat that Jason Todd was your breaking point. Jason Todd is dead and you swear you’ll never recover.

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A/n: So, this is what Jason looks like in his death scene and he looks scared. Which, is probably a plothole because Titans (or them trying to throw us off since it's episode 1 ?? idk) but I decided I was just gonna use that anyway for fun lol Also fun fact, I was originally not going to include his death scene since we saw it in the show but then I rewatched UTRH and was encouraged by my best friend to make it worse so I did. And I'm really glad I included it lol I'm sorry but I really like how it turned out lol

Tag list: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmess // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @stainedstardom // @baebeepeach // @legend-o-zelda // @harleycao // @somehow-lovable-trash // @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx // @deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover // @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou // @whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000

#jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #red hood x reader #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #petrichor

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your-divine-ribs · 2 months

Text

Expectations (Dad Van)

Words: 3.2k

Valentine’s Day when you’re heavily pregnant, no warnings just fluff 💗

Dad Van Masterlist Main Masterlist

It wasn't getting any easier. You were eight months pregnant and ready to pop. Your back ached, your muscles were strained and you were bone-weary tired. Since your perfect little rounded baby-belly had grown exponentially with no signs of slowing down you'd barely had more than three hours unbroken sleep, tossing and turning in bed at night in a fruitless attempt to get comfortable and getting up for frequent toilet breaks, and that wasn't the only problem. You felt like your body wasn't your own anymore, that the baby wasn't just taking up temporary residence but had moved in and completely taken over. The feeling was akin to being a lodger in your own house.

Of course you didn't begrudge the little one, you already loved her more than life itself and you'd not even met her yet, but boy were you impatient now. The pregnancy glow had dissipated quickly as you'd entered the third trimester and now you just felt huge and cumbersome and heavy and just so bloody exhausted, not to mention thoroughly undesirable. Not that your boyfriend would agree. If anything he just craved you all the more, showering you with affection and compliments and tender touches that quickly turned needy. He literally couldn't keep his hands off you, and who were you to deny him when he made you feel so good?

It had been a long day at work and you let out a drawn out sigh of relief as you pulled up on to your driveway. The promise of maternity leave was now only two weeks away but it may as well have been two years the way the days stretched on ahead of you seemingly endlessly.

"Hey, I'm home!" You called into the quiet house, ears straining for a response, a smile stretching on your lips at the faint call of "up here love... come on up... I've run you a bath..."

In truth you were envious of the way that Van's career gave him the freedom to work the hours he chose, letting him shun the 9 to 5 rat-race that you were embroiled in, but at times like this you were thankful. Now you were on the home stretch of your pregnancy he'd cancelled all touring and engagements and he was there waiting for you each day after work with a warm hug and a smile. He wasn't the typical house-husband type and his domestic skills left a lot to be desired, but he was trying so hard, and that was the important thing.

You hung up your coat and trudged up the stairs, the effort quickly leaving you panting for breath, unbuttoning your blouse and shrugging out of it as you went.

"Did ya have a good day love?"

Van looked up as you entered the bathroom, his eyes quickly leaving yours to trail over the expanse of your swollen belly. You didn't think it was possible to convey love as much from just a look but it was blatantly obvious the way that his eyes lit up as he gazed on your heavily pregnant form. It caught you off guard every time, a warm glow erupting in your chest as he quickly crossed to you with his arms outstretched.

"It was okay I guess, just the same old shit every day. I'm just so tired and everything aches. How about you? What've you been up to?"

Van's hands curled around your hips as he looked down on you. "Well I finished painting the nursery at last. It's looking really good now, all ready for our little princess."

Again his gaze sank to your belly, a hand tenderly brushing over your skin as he crouched down to talk directly to the large bump. "And how's my little lady doing? You been behaving yourself for mummy today?"

He was answered with a kick and you giggled at the perfect timing. You were certain that your unborn daughter could pick out Van's voice as she often responded to it, livening up immediately when she heard him. You often found yourself day-dreaming, fast-forwarding in your head, picturing Van and her laughing and playing, cooking up wild scenarios and going on epic adventures limited only by a child's imagination, the perfect duo. You just knew that they were going to be partners in crime and you'd probably end up on the receiving end of their mischievous pranks before she'd even learnt to talk properly. And you couldn't wait.

"She can hear you, she's kicking! Here... put your hand right here!"

You placed your hand atop Van's, sliding it across your tummy to where a little foot or hand or elbow was currently pummelling you from the inside, watching Van's expression turn to wonderment as he felt the vibrations through your skin.

"Yeah, yeah I can feel her! Hey little one! Whatcha doing in there?" He looked up at you. "She's got a right kick on her hasn't she? I swear she's gonna be a footballer." Back to your belly. "You gonna play for United yeah? Make your daddy proud?"

You rolled your eyes, laughing. "More like a boxer I'd say. She's been kicking the shit out of me all day, using my bladder as a punch bag!"

Van chuckled, leaning in to plant a kiss just above your navel and then rising to his feet and indicating the bath.

"You gonna get in then before it gets cold? I've just got some stuff to do downstairs."

Your brow creased into a little frown, disappointment flickering through you. "You not joining me? You know... 'cause it's Valentine's Day and all that? Make up for not even bothering to get me a card or a bunch of roses!"

You narrowed your eyes at him, letting mock-annoyance tinge your words. You weren't really bothered. You knew that he hated the commercial side of Valentines and to be honest you did too, but you couldn't resist teasing him. His eyes widened, feigning offence.

"You really need me to get you a sappy card and a bunch of over-priced flowers to show my love for ya? Nah... that just won't cut it. Got something else planned haven't I? And it's much better than all that..."

He trailed off, his voice mysterious which instantly kicked your intrigue into overdrive. He was wearing that cheeky little smirk on his lips now that made your pulse quicken and you wondered what he had planned.

"Are you gonna make love to me on a bed of rose petals?" You grinned up at him, watched him shake his head. "Whisk me off to Paris maybe?" He pulled a face.

"You'll find out soon enough. Now go on, have your bath... relax for a bit. Then come downstairs straight after, yeah?"

"Okay, okay. This'd better be good McCann!"

"Oh it will be!"

He shot you a cheeky wink and leant forward to press a small kiss to your cheek, then he was darting out of the bathroom and bounding quickly down the stairs, his footsteps receding as you heard him moving down the hallway.

The bath was just what you needed and you sank down into the fragrant bubbles, feeling the knots of tension loosen as your muscles soaked up the heavenly warmth. You didn't even realise that you'd fallen asleep until a loud crashing sound wrenched you out of your slumber and you sat bolt upright, water sloshing over the side of the tub.

It was completely quiet and you began to think that maybe it was the remnants of a dream, but then you heard another noise, a metallic thunk followed by a string of curses. What the hell was he doing down there?

The piercing sound of the smoke alarm gave you your answer and you groaned out loud. Van's disastrous forays into cooking were almost legendary and you were still haunted by the time he almost set the kitchen on fire trying to flash-fry a steak. Thankfully catastrophe was averted and the only casualties were his singed eyebrows and a bruised ego, but it could have been a lot worse. Heaven knows what carnage he could be causing downstairs right now.

So you reluctantly hauled your pregnant frame out of the bath tub and dried yourself down with a fluffy towel which you quickly secured around your chest, opening the bathroom door and calling down the stairs.

"You alright down there? What's going on?"

The reply was immediate, shouted back up with gusto. "Yeah, everything's fine! Don't worry! Got everything under control babe! Just had a... minor mishap..."

You sighed, considering returning to the bath, but the warmth had started to leech from the water and the skin on your fingertips had started to shrivel so you pulled the plug and turned to look at your reflection in the large mirror situated over the sink, letting the towel drop to the floor. Wiping away the condensation you were met with a version of yourself that you barely recognised. Your skin was stretched tightly over your stomach which was now protruding that much that you could no longer see your feet. Your breasts were swollen and heavy, having gone up two cup sizes... much to Van's delight. Then there were the stretch marks. A network of fine red stripes stretching all over the underside of your baby bump. Tiger stripes. You hated them with a passion, even knowing that eventually they'd fade to faint silvery lines, but Van wouldn't hear you moan about them. You smiled to yourself as you recalled him kissing them tenderly, telling you that they were simply part of you, so he loved them just as much as the rest of you.

Another barrage of curse words drifted up from downstairs, snatching your attention away from the mirror and you grabbed for your fluffy robe, slipping into it and padding downstairs quickly on your bare feet.

You could smell the acrid scent of burning and see the air thick with smoke before you'd even pushed fully through the kitchen door and you braced yourself when you did, coming to a stop with your mouth agape, stunned by the sight before you. There were discarded pans in the sink coated with congealed burnt on food and boiled over pots on the stove. Dark splotches of a thick red sauce was sprayed up the usually pristine white cupboard surfaces. But that wasn't what really caught your attention.

There in the midst of it all was Van, his face creased into an awkward smile, splattered with pasta sauce... completely stark bollock naked apart from a garish pink novelty Valentine's apron bearing the words 'Will You Be Mine?'

"Alright love," he said meekly. "I really wanted to make you a nice dinner, but I think I might have fucked it up a little bit..."

You were quiet for a moment, taking in the scene, but not for long. How could you dwell on the kitchen chaos when you were faced with that?

"Oh my god... what the hell are you wearing? Or should I say what aren't you wearing?"

Van's face instantly cracked into a wide playful grin. "Ta-da!" He smirked proudly. "You like it?"

"It's... it's..." you trailed off into another fit of giggles as Van held out his arms and gave you a twirl... and an eyeful in the process. "I don't know what to say! I'm actually speechless for once!"

"How about 'come ere sexy?'"

You crossed the kitchen in a few steps, straight into his waiting arms, both laughing as he tried to pull you in tight for a hug but your huge baby bump prevented your bodies from meeting.

"Think something's come between us!" You quipped, then you pulled back, eyeing the gaudy apron with amusement. "So this is it, eh? This is my big Valentine's present? You practically naked? I'm surprised you didn't jump out of a giant cake or wrap yourself up in shiny paper with a big ribbon or something!"

"You can still unwrap me if ya like love?" He grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Maybe after dinner?"

"Dinner?" You echoed, your eyes darting to the chaos behind him, your nose wrinkling in distaste at the pungent smell of burnt food. You'd long gotten over the nausea of morning sickness but the idea of trying to stomach one of Van's culinary creations was making your gut churn. "So... what did you make?"

"Well... it was supposed to be some posh pasta dish... saw Gordon Ramsey cooking it online. It's just not turned out quite how it was supposed to. I mean, we might be able to salvage it..." he paused, the sheepish look returning as he glanced behind him at the mess. "Or I could just do us beans on toast?" His voice rose up hopefully, face scrunching doubtfully. "Or there's some pizzas in the freezer... or maybe we could get a takeaway?"

"Takeaway sounds good!" You hurriedly blurted, relieved to have a choice that didn't involve Van's cooking, grabbing hold of his hand when you saw the disappointment etched on his face although he was trying to hide it. "Hey, all this is great, I really do appreciate it you know. Don't feel bad about it."

"But I do feel bad love. I really wanted to do something special for you, make it romantic. You do so much and you never complain and I'm just a bit..." he paused, shrugging whilst he searched for the right word. "Useless..."

"Awww don't say that!" You made a grab for his other hand, drawing him close and looking up at him. "You've been doing loads recently. You've completely decorated the nursery, you've been out buying loads of stuff, you've come to all the ante-natal classes with me..."

"Yeah, and I about bloody passed out when the midwife was going through your birth plan. What am I gonna be like at the real thing? I'm probably just gonna go and let you down."

You giggled. "You'll be fine, honestly, you'll see. We both will be as long as we're together."

He smiled then, gave a small sigh and a shrug, and then a little frown creased his features. "I'm trying Y/N, I really am. I've wanted to be a dad for as long as I can remember and I'm so excited, but now it's only weeks away I keep stressing, worrying I'm not doing enough. I wanna do as much as I can, look after you, and the baby when she's here." His eyes strayed down to your bump, glowing fondly. "Wanna take care of both of you."

"You're doing great Van, you really are," you assured him. "I certainly got no complaints."

He didn't look convinced. "But I can't even cook a simple pasta dish! And you should have seen me painting the nursery earlier. I swear I ended up with more paint in my hair than than on the walls! I'm just rubbish at all this 'hands on' stuff. And what about when the baby's here? What if I do something wrong? What if I'm a shit dad?"

He looked so earnest it made your heart ache. It was only a few weeks back that you'd been wracked with worries and doubts yourself when you'd been packing your hospital bag in advance as instructed. It had suddenly all seemed too real and too imminent and you'd panicked, wondering how on earth you were actually going to physically birth the baby and then feed and look after her. Van had been right there at your side, a comforting arm around your shoulder, his free hand brushing away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks as you'd offloaded all your worries on to him. His gentle caresses and words of comfort had eventually coaxed you around to a more positive state as he'd told you how strong you were and how much he admired you and how you were going to be "the best mum the world had ever seen". Then he'd made you laugh when he'd backtracked and added, "Just don't tell my mum I said that or she'll kill me!"

Now you'd switched roles and you were the one building up Van's wavering confidence. Few people saw this side of him. He was always outwardly so self-assured, but you knew the real Van. The one who took so much pride in everything that he did that anything short of perfection was deemed a failure.

You disentangled your fingers from his so you could reach up and cup his face with both of your hands, thumbs brushing his freckled cheeks.

"You are so not going to be a shit dad!" You told him, your voice coming out firmer than intended which caused his lips to curl into a smile. "You're one of the kindest, most caring people I know. Fair enough, you're a crap cook..." You paused, a laugh bubbling up which Van echoed. "But our little girl is going to the luckiest girl in the world to have a dad like you. I bet there's not many babies that've already got about three albums worth of songs written for them before they've even been born! You're gonna be a great dad and she's gonna love you so much."

He hung on your every word, his smile growing as you spoke, his hands sliding around your waist.

"And I'm gonna love her too. I already do. You wouldn't believe how much Y/N... I didn't even think it was possible to ever love anyone as much as I love you, but I do. And that's a whole lot of fucking love!"

He chuckled, his fingers flexing on your waist, squeezing you gently. You felt so much love and affection at that moment you were sure that you were positively glowing with it. And he hadn't finished yet.

"Honestly babe, I don't know what I did to deserve you. You make me so happy."

"And I love you too," you replied, pushing yourself up on to the balls of your feet as you tilted his face down to meet yours. "Come here you big softy!"

You pressed your lips to his and he practically purred in appreciation, his hands sliding further around your waist as he pulled you as close to him as your baby bump would allow. The kiss was soft and sweet and his lips were warm and enticing, moving slowly against yours, savouring your closeness.

Your hands fell away, reaching for his hips and you smiled against his mouth as you felt the bare skin there. You'd almost forgotten about your Valentines surprise, such a typical Van gesture.

You pulled away, fixing him with a sexy little smile as your fingers located the apron string, tugging on it until it came undone. He smirked down on you, his eyes simmering with a gentle kind of heat which warmed you through.

"What're you doing love? Thought you were gonna unwrap me after dinner?"

"Yeah well... I changed my mind. Maybe I want my dessert before dinner..."

Then you were both laughing, smiling into the kiss, wrapped up in each other's arms.

#dad van #catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann #van mccann x reader #au fanfic #vanfic

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let-me-put-my-lips-to-something · 6 months

Text

Fall Into Me

Sometimes the only recourse to being kicked out of eternal paradise is finding the demon who’s been in love with you for thousands of years and letting them remake you in their image.

Content Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (feat. wing kink and wax play), Body Horror (breaking of bones), Religious Imagery

---

It’s an odd thing to wake up tangled in the power lines. The electric buzzing of the wires should be frying his body, but he supposes God planned for this when He gave Angels hollow bones.

They do have their advantages, though. He is lighter than he looks, something that helped when he fell. His wings were just barely strong enough to slow his descent, though he couldn’t control what direction they sent him in. It’s how he ended up tangled in the wires with no way out.

His wings are pinned to his back at an awkward angle. He can’t get them free, the more he tries the more ensnared he becomes. The ridges of the wire catch on his feathers, painfully pulling them out. Blood smears across his back and he begins to panic.

He needs to get out of there. His wings, his beautiful wings, they’re going to be damaged. The clothes he is wearing tear apart as he thrashes, the rip of fabric mixes with his screams as the sickening crack of feathers breaking fills the air.

The sun has set by the time he stops fighting. The stars above mock him in his struggle. They taunt him, tell him that he is no longer a part of them. That he is no longer in His graces and that is why he is stuck.

I can’t get out on my own, I need someone to help me. His eyes adjust to the lack of light, pupils dilating to take in as much light as they can. The street below him is mostly empty, there are two kids down the way. Humans, or else they would have heard him scream. But there’s another figure, someone much closer looking directly up at him.

They’re the reason he fell, the demon that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about — stop craving — for millennia. He groans, of course they had to be here. He shouldn’t be surprised, they always seem to pop up wherever he goes.

It’s a good thing, he supposes. Because that means there is someone that can help him down. He can’t see what they are doing, the lit candle they are holding burns his eyes.

The only thing he can see is their red eyes, they nearly glow with the reflection of the dancing flame.

Those damned eyes, the ones that he can feel as they rake over his body every time he steps foot out of heaven. The eyes that follow his every movement, take up his every thought. They have even invaded his dreams, where they tempt him into sin.

They are far away, a blurred speck on the ground below him. But their voice carries itself on the wind as if it were a part of the heavens itself.

“You look a bit stuck, do you need help?”

Before he can answer, they set the candle in their hands down and spread their wings. It takes just a moment before they are set on the wires next to him. He lets them work on disentangling his limbs while he takes in every detail of their scraggly wings.

His arms are freed first and the first thing he does with them is reach out for them. He wants to touch them, wants to know how they feel. Do their wings feel like his? That’s not possible, they can’t be as soft. His wings were a gift from God himself.

His fingertips just barely graze the edge of the softest feather he has ever felt when he plummets to the ground. He lands hard, the air leaves his lungs. His wings crack and break below him, the pain floods his every nerve.

Tears flood his vision as he heaves. He tries to roll over, but the attempted movement makes the pain worse. It’s not long before he feels himself being picked up, the demon’s strong arms hook underneath his knees and back.

He cries out as he is cradled to their chest. The now useless wings drag like a dead weight below his body and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it HURTS.

The world fades to black around him, and when he comes to again he is being laid down on a soft mattress. He buries his face in a pillow and his wings splay out across the bed. The pain has dulled, this new position takes the weight and pressure off the broken appendages.

That doesn’t mean they’re any less sensitive, though. Something he finds out as clawed fingers trail down the skin between the broken wings. They bring pain, yes, but this pain is different. This pain is one that feels so good in a way that he never knew was possible. He moans as he wonders what else he has missed out on in his millennia of holiness.

“You’re so pretty like this, covered in blood and lying in my bed,” the demon whispers, their warm body pressed against his back. A shiver runs down his spine at the words, an unfamiliar warmth collects in the pits of his stomach.

Their hand is hot, it burns his skin as it traces a path down his side and over the swell of his ass. They don’t stop even as they reach the warmth between his legs — the one area of his body that not even God dared to touch.

“Look how wet you are for me. I thought you couldn’t sin but here you are, dripping for me.”

He presses his hips back into their hand. This is what God wanted the Angels to abstain from? This bliss, this is something he could have had at any point in the past millennia? Oh how misguided he was.

He whines as they pull their hand away from him, sitting back onto his legs so that they are no longer pressed up to him.

“Are you sure this is something you want?” The tone of their voice is serious as they speak. “This is something that you will not be able to recover from. By crossing this line, you will fall.”

“If I shall fall, then I shall fall into you,” he grits out. They don’t know he’s already been cast out. There is no returning for him, he might as well indulge.

He looks up at the demon over his shoulder, his eyes burning in a way they never have before. “Take everything of me and make it yours.”

There is a gleam of hunger in their eyes and it excites him. Nearly as much as the hard press of their excitement against his legs. But it’s his next words that set everything in motion.

“Make me worthy of you.”

The demon’s breath hitches, their eyes shine with something unreadable before lust swallows them. Any hesitation they had evaporates as they begin moving against him. Their hardness haunts him, teases him.

“How did I get so lucky,” they lean down to growl in his ear. They nip at his earlobe and oh God does it feel good.

Every tease of their sharp teeth against his neck makes him more excited, he wishes they would bite. He follows his instinct and stretches his neck as much as he can, giving them easier access to the area.

He lets out a shaky breath as their arm wraps around him, as their hand enters his warmth. They rub lazy circles there and he’s gone. He rocks his hips back into them, begging for more. His muscles spasm as he pleads, “Please, oh God. Please!”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, his pleasure is ripped away as they pull their hand back. He whimpers at the loss.

“Don’t say His name,” the demon growls. “Tonight, I am your God.”

He peaks over his shoulder as he hears them adjusting their clothes. They remove their belt and use it to bind his arms behind his back. The leather holds his biceps secure, providing a slight lift to his limp wings.

The movement causes him to moan, but that moan quickly morphs into a scream as they dig their clawed fingers into the skin at the base of his wing. His back arches as he desperately tries to get away, but he can barely move with his arms bound and their weight on his back.

Tears stream down his face, why are they hurting him?

“Now let me hear you say it. Who is your God?” His mind is foggy and his vision is blurred. He can’t feel anything but their fingers in his skin and their hardness against his ass.

“You,” he gasps. “You are my God.”

The demon above him gives him no reprieve as they twist their hand into his broken feathers. It’s less pain this way and a coil of pleasure joins the pain as they card their fingers through the soft plumage.

He feels a rumble deep in his chest at the motion, the release of pain is almost dizzying. He’s breathless, he’s never felt like this. Never felt like he was flying even when he was firmly planted on the ground, never felt so Holy.

The last of his breath is squeezed out of his lungs as the demon presses him further into the mattress, leaning their full weight on his back as they grab a lit candle off the nightstand.

“Now, we’re going to have a little fun. If, at any point, you want me to stop you need to tell me. Understood?”

He nods, though he doesn’t think he would ever want them to stop. They could ruin him, tear him limb from limb, and he would thank them for it.

“Good boy,” they purr. “Now let’s warm you up.”

The words are punctuated by drips of hot wax hitting his skin. It burns for just a moment before his skin pulls taut and it dries. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, but oddly pleasant. That is, until the wax drips on his broken wings.

The pain is delicious. It’s as if his purity is being burned away by the wax and replaced by their sin. He gladly accepts that. They are taking him apart and remaking him with every drop of wax that splashes on his wings.

He’s never wanted before, but now he wants to scream. Wants to let the universe know who he is and who he belongs to. He wants to worship the demon, revere them for recreating him. He wants, he wants, he wants.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, he feels them rut against his heat. Their jeans are gone, leaving them bare as they move against him. There are ridges along their shaft that pique his curiosity.

When he looks over his shoulder once more he is met with metal decorating their member. He salivates at the sight, what are those? Why would they alter the form that was given to them by Him?

But then he knows. He knows what they are for as the demon enters him. Each piece of metal hooks against him as they thrust in. It causes him to see stars. He wants to cry out, wants to tell them that it hurts.

They don’t slow, their thrusts brutally push him further into the mattress. Tears stream down his face and mix with the spit already polling on the pillow.

There’s so much happening, so many stimuli he has never experienced before. The metal he can feel as it moves within him, the punishing force of their hips into his, the burning of the wax on his wings, their fingers digging into his hip and pulling him back into them.

He doesn’t know how much more he can take, uncomfortable warmth is pooling deep within him. This isn’t enough for them, though, as they blow out the candle and toss it to the side. They use their now free hand to reach below him, wrapping their large claws around his throat and pulling his body off the mattress.

His wings are pinned between their bodies, his hands flatten against their lower stomach. There is just enough room for him to spear his hands, grabbing their hips and pulling them in.

The hand around his throat tightens, constricting his airways. He throws his head back against their shoulder, an invitation which they do not hesitate to accept as they press their mouth to the soft expanse of skin.

He gasps, struggling to take in air. His vision is spotty and oh God I’m close.

As if they can hear his thoughts, they bite down hard. Their teeth draw blood as his world explodes into light. He screams, his legs trembling as he comes.

They don’t stop their ministrations. They keep pounding into him and they chase their own pleasure. It’s too much, the stars in his vision turn to pin pricks of pain.

Just as he opens his mouth to demand they stop they release their grip on his throat, shoving two fingers into his mouth. Then, they utter a command that he has no choice but to obey.

“Bite.”

If my God wills it, then I shall give it to Them.

He clamps down around their fingers and his mouth fills with the tang of blood. Their hips stutter as they moan, a warmth filling his insides.

They let go of him and he falls back onto the mattress. The movement rips them from within him. He whimpers at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

Something warm drips out of him, but he’s too tired to try and figure out what it is.

The last thing he remembers before falling asleep is the demon removing the belt from around his arms and leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“You have always been worthy of me, I was just waiting for you to see that you deserved more than what He could give you.”

#ftm nsft #nsft tumblr #queer nsft #lgbt nsft #nsft trans #mlm nsft #gay nsft #my writing #nsft writing #t4t nsft #trans nsft #hornyposting #t4t #angel nsft #hierophilia #wing kink #wax play #nsft story

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dreamsgazer · 9 months

Note

Hi! Can you n7 from the softest love prompts? Thank you so much!

Oh, Anon, thank YOU! I love that one, and I hope you'll like this one shot. Since it wasn't specified for what paring, I went with my classic one Tangerine x Fem!Reader.

N. 7: that gaze--tired, soft, their thumb gently rubbing your cheek, noses touching, silently mumbling an "i love you"

Prompt for here | Masterlist | Request always open, but I'm slow at answering!

Warnings: mention of wounds (nothing graphic), NO use of Y/N, TONS and tons of fluff. Sincerely, I surprised myself with all this fluffiness.

Quietly Together

You look at Tangerine and he looks at you.

Both of you lay on your side, facing each other, eyes heavy with exhaustion but refusing to surround.

You know he's aware of you taking in every scrape and bruise in his face, neck, bare shoulder.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, he has let you help him to bandage some cuts and gently press ice into a nasty-looking bruise on his back. Lemon is sound asleep in your guest room, his soft snores a familiar and comforting sound in the quiet of almost dawn. "It was a clusterfuck," was all they said about their last "business trip", as they jokingly call them sometimes.

You haven't pressed further, knowing that the last thing they needed once safe and sound in your apartment was being questioned about what they did - and to whom.

You have become quite proficient in postponing questions and worries until one of them is ready to talk, which inevitably happens the day after their return, while you all are watching the telly, and Lemon graciously pretends not to have heard Tangerine fuck you silly before breakfast.

The three of you sitting together while sipping tea and nibbling at scones is quite a domestic scene, and even if Tangerine never explicitly told you that, you know deep in your bones these moments are precious for him as well.

Home, safety, love. Lemon and Tangerine are mostly tight-lipped when it comes to their job - The less you know, the less you risk getting involved in this shit, is what your beloved Tangerine told you once during one of your crazily expensive dinners.

When it comes to their childhood, though, they are even more reserved. Your respect that boundary, but from how much they crave the domesticity you provide, you can take a pretty confident guess about some aspects of their past.

It fills your heart with tenderness and pride to think your tiny home has become a safe space for the two of them, and you make your best to let them know, in no uncertain terms, that the door is always open. Tangerine silently wraps his arms around you, pressing your body even closer to his. You kiss the tip of his nose, making his lips tremble with a silent laugh, and you smile back.

Gently wiggling your arm free from his hold, you delicately push a curl back in its place, caressing his forehead, careful to avoid the cut there. You try not to think about what kind of weapon could have done. He presses his face in your palm, unashamed and almost asleep, murmuring something along the lines of the wound not hurting, don't bother yourself with it. You do it anyway, because you love this man, and you know that under his swearing, sharp words, and witty remarks, he still thinks is soiling you with his presence in your life. Tangerine does love you, that is for sure, but you are acutely aware that sometimes accepting that someone loves him for himself (like Lemon does, yet in a totally different, romantic kind of way) makes your partner feel too vulnerable, too... maybe not scared, but hesitant in dragging you into his existence. What business does it have an assassin barging into a perfectly normal life, after all? Your heart aches for him when he speaks like that, and you are never tired to repeat how much you love him, how much he enriches your life. He looks embarrassed - always preferring actions to words - but you know he craves to hear you say so. He interrupts your thoughts, whispering something about buying you lunch tomorrow and going for a walk, and you murmur back how much you'd love to spend some time with him. Tangerine smiles - not a grin or a smirk, a proper, full smile - and caresses your cheek with his wounded knuckles, letting his fingers brush against your skin. He's painting you in his mind, like you are right now, relaxed, cosy, and safe in his arms. Seeing this relaxed version of him, this calm and not vocal side of Tangerine, is a privilege you would fight for against anyone. It's the ultimate demonstration of love and trust, for someone who usually cannot afford to be vulnerable to be like this while you hold him. "I love you," his cracked lips mouth only for you to see, before giving up and finally letting his eyes close. You stay awake a bit longer, rubbing his back with slow movements. A silent I love you too for him to feel.

#tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine bullet train #bullet train #tangerine and lemon #lemon and tangerine #tangerine #dreamswrite

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ask-missparker · 2 months

Text

I remember you said don't leave me here alone / OUAT AU Series

Pairings: Amelia x Nikolai, Ethan x Liane, Rick x Liane

Friendship: Belladonna St. James & Joshua C. Nolan

Extra Characters: Erik, Cassie, Alexander and etc

-> Special appearance: Introducing Meira as Merida/The Mad Hatter, played by Billie Eilish

Summary: A dark glimmer of hope come in doses, even if it feels like everything is stuck in time. Sometimes you need a push in the right direction..

Warning: Angsty, with some fluff. Some violence here and there.

Note: Inspired by the episode Hat Tricks. And yes, Cherik is canon in every universe hush!

-----

He woke up with his hands tied behind his back.

His ears were ringing, his head hurt worse than the time he finished that English paper for Charles that weekend, and felt a gash on his forehead. He hissed sucking in his breath recognizing one of his lower lip as well. He blinked as it felt like was drugged, as the last thing he remembered was searching for clues on a small upcoming case he had about the stormy woods and the town folks who went camping up there. It was stupid really but he took the chance to clear his head and figure out the next move.

Now he’s stuck in what seems to be a basement.

He was laying on his back, flipping to the side noticing his backpack on the ground a few away from him. He tried inching over huffing and grunting, feeling he must’ve broke a bone during the fall to the floor.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

He hissed as his gaze fell onto a pair of black boots following upwards to face the mayor’s wondering grin. As if he wanted to put together a puzzle but didn’t have the right pieces yet. The boy glared in response trying to wiggle free of the ropes behind his back.

“Wh..” He muttered.

“Oh? Too shocked to speak. Don’t worry I wouldn’t drug my nephew, I mean, I could. But it wouldn’t put on a good impression, would it?” He responded.

“..wh—what do you want from me..” He muttered trying to clear his throat.

“Aw my darling nephew wants answer. See, I hope what I’m about to say finds you in good heath, and in a prosperous enough position to put wealth. In the pockets of men like me who might be down on their luck..you see, that was the darkness in this town you decide to pluck.”

“..you can’t afford to be afraid..”

“Wise words coming from a child.”

It was as if Joshua could see right into his heart. The sadness, jealously and darkness that filled within. It was black, with gushed of red. As if he was lonely and felt underrated against his brother, that his darkness was just a craving of harsh lies he puts himself to sleep with.

Joshua has learned from a long time ago, evil isn’t born. It’s made. The world was cruel, it was your choice to be a hero or a villain in their history. You pick the card and decide how to spin it over it’s head.

Maybe there was a slight bit of hope within that thick wall Alexander hides behind. His thirst for powerful, was a thirst to be seen as an equal, to be as loved and appealing as the others are. Then again, it was just wishful thinking.

“I..is this how you hurt my father?” He asked.

Alexander was pacing around the room then paused not expecting those words to come from him. He took a moment to regain himself as he replied, “You know about that?”

“I heard a thing or two..I’m not going to try and dismiss what you did—what your doing is wrong. Because it is. You have people in this town locked under your finger..but at what cost?”

“..you don’t know everything, Mr. Nolan.”

“I don’t need to..i’ve seen men like you who took care of me before..they do it for the money, for the status, to be seen as something they are not..just to fill the void..”

Alexander gaze fell onto his nephew this time. It was as if those dark blue-green pierced right into his soul, swirling around waiting for an answer. This kid was smart, he’ll give him that much. He saw nothing but kindness and heartbreak behind those eyes, yet a determination that can slice an apple he has in his backyard waiting to be used on anyone for that matter. It was nothing like his brother nor his mother, but his own self.

This child as been across some things, it was hard to tell if he was bluffing or not. As if he was telling the truth, a honest threat waiting to be fired. It was he like see a lot more, like he was sure he will be fine by the end of the day.

He scoffed, “There’s not void, child. You just stumbled into my town and think just because you fixed a few things, you did some good. Sorry to break your glass, but you are nothing. And you will rot in here til something worse happens.”

“You think I’m afraid of you..you afraid that your little town will see right through your lies and come after you? So you lock me up, cause some chaos and spin the bottle..clever..very, very clever..” He replied looking down.

“You really think you’re safe? That your precious little friends and roommate will come find you?”

“…”

“That’s what I thought. Here’s the thing Joshua, your a pathetic exsume for a son, a lousy street kid who has no right to be living in your condition and someone who will never know the truth about himself. But I can ease your thoughts.”

“Hmm..”

“You’re parents, they were nothing. One was a lousy young lady with no right for royal status and the other a weak lad on the run from everything because he was too afraid to face the true. Everyone in this town has their agendas, and your just another spec in the dust of voices here.”

He watched the young man look down, not saying a word seeing a flicker in his eyes trying to not go out and lose that hope. However all Alexander could think was the way Joshua’s eyes pierced into his soul seeing the cracks behind his very own eyes.

As if the boy’s eyes said, ‘your soul may be dark as the pitch black night but there a dose of kindness within than he ever gave credit for.’ It made him sick to his stomach that—that his face spoke more than a thousand words.

It reminded him of his mother before his brother was ever born, believing that there was good in the world and a light inside him despite that darkness that converted him into who he is today. That he had the strength yet vulnerability to stand up to him in the mists of pain made him want to congratulate him, but it was merely pathetic he believed one little thought of confidence could make him turn a leaf.

But then again, he didn’t want to kill the boy. There was no part of him thrust himself into the idea of harming in could led to death, he still wanted him alive and decently well..maybe there was a small inch within him that made him think twice before his actions…

He was brought out of his thoughts as Joshua spoke up, “..what? After me, who’s next on your agenda of victims?..I just feel sorry for you, mister mayor, thinking this will fill that void within..”

He didn’t speak, only slapped his face to keep him quiet. He didn’t need his voice ringing in his ears for the rest of the day, he had more important things to attend to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The doors the station were slammed open, as the soft sounds of grunts and huffing could be heard followed by the whispers of the man in charge. He threw the man into the cell and locked it as he turned around. Nik stepped over as his hands gripped the bars of the cell he was placed into, his face showcased a mix of tiredness and worry.

“I’m telling you, I have no idea where he went! Erik you have to believe me, I haven’t seen in him 24 hours..no calls, no text..I didn’t do anything to him.” He said, banging his against the bar.

Erik stood there with his arms crossed, “Are you sure? How could I know you didn’t drive him away or worse, dragged somewhere deep within the town line, Mr. Hawkins.”

“Do you really think I would harm the kid I have been taking care of for a while now? I have done nothing but provided him a home!”

“Where was he last?”

“..last time I checked he was going to get some air, said he had a small case he wanted to solve. I advised him to stay home but he promised he would be safe.”

“And you let a teen boy go thinking he wasn’t going to lie to your face and go to some house party?”

“Oh please, Erik, he isn’t that type of kid! He went to the campsites in search of something..please, just let me go.”

Erik walked back to his desk, starting to fill out some paperwork for the man muttering, “Not until I have evidence that you didn’t do it.”

Just then, Alexander rushed in with Ethan behind trying to stop him of entering. Ethan was barking a few words at the man, two accents fighting for a place within the room. Nik rolled his eyes, glaring at both.

Then he stopped, “If you want evidence, ask my brother. He clearly has something to do with this. Isn’t that right Alex?”

Alexander placed a hand over his chest fixing his collar and said, “And why I ever do such a thing? I got a call that my brother was in jail, I had to see what’s the matter.”

“Since when do you care?! You couldn’t care less if I was hit by a bus!”

“Watch your tone, clearly you never learn anything from me about manners. What did you do to get you in this mess?”

“Nothing of the sort. What did you do to my kid?”

“You’re kid? Since when did you have the legal right to call him yours?”

“Not the time. Where is he? I know you did something, you could never keep your hands to yourself.”

“With that tone, I might as well not bail you out.”

“What. Did. You. Do. To. My. Kid?”

“Nothing, I didn’t even know about this until now. But whatever you did to your kid, must’ve driven him away or worse, he’s probably being held hostage somewhere by one of your friends.”

“Bullshit..”

Alexander put down 20 bucks on the desk before walking out, smirking at Ethan who just glared blocking him from his path.

“Why are you not letting me leave? You think I have something to do with this?” Alex asked.

“Well, you always magically show up whenever it’s often than not convenient for you. First you show up when Ms. Spencer is awaken, then you appear when I’m taking a role in this town, even when Rochelle and Rick’s children are in a small crisis at school with Cole..you always show up. Matter of time when you come around again.” Ethan explained smirking, “What’s next for you?”

“Are you trying to threaten me, Mr. Long?”

“Depends, you see it as one?”

“Not at all.”

“Good. But mark my words, mister mayor, if you try something just as bad as this, I will come for you and your home.”

“I’ll like to see you try.”

With that the mayor walked out as Ethan marched right back into the station talking to Erik about the current events, glancing over at Nik every so often hoping the man listen to this words. Ethan wanted to come start a hunt for Joshua as quickly as possible within the towns and woods. He requested Rick, Cassie and Rochelle to come along knowing that the boy could be held anywhere. Erik was hesitating to bring anyone else into this search party but he knew they would need extract hands on deck, he was getting old more help would be better.

Half an hour later, he came back with this requested people. Rick didn’t look very pleased to be here, as he refused to have any weapons on him during the hunt in the woods. Rochelle hummed deciding on a gun, taking a small area of the town to look for the kid promising to Nik he’s innocent here as the man just sighed.

Cassie was quite analyzing the whole situation, knowing that Alex has done this to prove a point to pull them apart into separate groups for whenever his biggest heavy hitters came. However he remembered seeing Alexander’s body language shifted wondering if someone beside Liane or Bella told him off, but she couldn’t place her finger on it.

Erik stayed back, watching the four of them go as he stayed to question Nik for his innocence, he should be at home with his husband Charles, not here at work together. Yet, here he is. He offered the man something to eat or drink, but Nikolai couldn’t stomach anything at the moment.

He sat down on the bench of the cell at dark worse case scenario filled his head, thinking horribly of himself for letting that kid go off that afternoon when he should’ve stopped him. He was considered his guardian at this point, not just a friend. He said it himself, ‘his kid’, he never said that before put the words felt familiar.

He just hoped he wasn’t badly hurt, and he will forgive him..

~~~~~~~~~

Joshua was tired, cold and hungry. He was bleeding and bruised, but a part of him knew he had to stay awake. He tried sitting up properly against one of the walls, not even realizing that his feet were tied by some rope—oh how could this day get any worse?! His vision was slightly blurry as he looked over his shoulder to see a spec of light, crawling over to notice it was a window seeing trees, some snow and much more.

He was still in the woods, but he didn’t know for long. Alexander was planning on keeping him here, to keep his shut and guard by god know. He replayed the conversation between the two of them over and over again, he noticed a shift in the man’s tone earlier, like he hit a nerve. He didn’t know but the man just barked threats at him afterwards then slapped him across the face before leaving.

He searched around for any broken glass, sharp objects of any thing, to break himself lose and make a run for it. Then suddenly opened the door, as down the stairs walked in a women. He could hear a possible other voice coming from the room across but it faint. His eyes fell on the lady once again, short pink hair, glasses and black overalls along with some pink boots to match.

He recongized her from the record store, he barley talked to her very often but liked the vibes she gave off. He remembered hearing Riley’s tales of her father being Red Riding Hood and her mother being The Huntress, always pointing out the store’s kind lady.

According to the tales, her name was Luna, the women who was sent to harm his father but couldn’t have the heart to do so and ran away unable to finish the job, meeting Rick afterwards. Joshua bit his lip worried she was going to live up to her promise and harm him instead. Luna placed a cup of tea in front of him, shyly waiting for him to drink it.

Instead Joshua asked, “W-what are you going to do me? What’s in that?”

Luna gave him a innocent look shaking her head, “I only made you tea, you looked thirsty…I-i can make you s-something else.”

“No thank you..w-what is doing for you in exchange of keeping me held here..”

“..he-h-he is not doing anything..he, uh..”

“..let me go, please..”

“He told me he would give me a bonus upgrade on my store, allowing new shipments of video games…”

“I..”

“W-what? D-did I say something wrong? I won’t hurt you..I-i promise..”

“He is doing you a favor..but I am the one getting hurt here!”

“You will be fine, it’s only for a while..please drink up before it gets cold..I am sorry if I upset you, I um..”

Joshua looked down, a sadness and darkness filled his eyes, he didn’t know what to even respond with. It wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know any better and probably didn’t want to get hurt by the mayor, so she did the favor in efforts to save her skins. But he didn’t trust her that easily, even if he was thirsty. Josh pushed the tea away from him causing it to spill on the floor, as the small cup rolled around, Luna looked rather upset that he didn’t take her offer. She glared calling him ungrateful stepping back out the door, not before treating him a couple of threats.

The door closed behind her as he sinked back into the corner he was placed into. He looked at his backpack that seemed open. He assumed someone must’ve tried to look inside, he crawled over to the using his legs to inch the bag over searching for something to help him. He found an old textbook from Charles’s English class and smirked using whatever strength he can, even his hand tied behind his back tossed it over the cup Luna placed on the ground as he sat on top of both items crushing it. He was surprised all the hours of watching TV payed off, using the shattered piece he tried to saw his way out of the ropes slowly starting to cut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The group of four searched around separating into pairs of two to cover even ground. Rochelle looked around the town’s older buildings deciding on heading to the woods next as Cassie went asking around for any sighting of the boy, tracking the area for clues. Cass knew one thing for sure, one of the advantages of being securely awake from the curse, is that there are hidden part of the town that come into bloom during the mid winter—early spring.

Certain flowers.

Meanwhile Rick and Ethan decide to split up. Rick knew he was able to cover more ground by himself, it was as if he had an act for catching people red handed with just the mere scent of their tracks. His daughter liked to say it was because he was half wolf, sometimes he liked to believe that was true.

With that knowledge, he went searching around for clues of any kind, dried blood marks on the ground, items lefts aside, anything useful for his hunt. To his surprise, a certain young Latina tagged along wanting to help out, having her clear guesses on what might’ve happened and who could’ve taken him hostage.

Ethan went lurking around the woods, driving in his car passing buses after buses, the foggy sight of the trees along the road didn’t help his vision almost knocking into someone. He stepped out to find a women with wild curls, a deep blue skirt, combat boots and a long ass coat catching her breath. He rushed over asking if she was alright, as the young women smiled with a shrug. Ethan questioned why she was in the woods as she said she going for a walk, the man just slowly nodded.

She asked him, “What are you doing here?”

“I uh..” He replied looking for an lie, “..I was searching for my dog. He’s a runner.”

“Ohh I love dogs! What’s is name?”

“Uh, Portland.”

“Portland? No offense, sounds like they were trying to run away with a name like that.”

“Yeah well, it was the first thing that came to mind when I saw him.”

“You know look like you could see a refresher, I know the woods very well. I have a map at my place, we both look for him together afterward.”

Ethan thought for a moment, seeing how kind yet familiar this young women meant to him. He thought a little help couldn’t help, technically he was looking for someone.

“Sure!” He added with a smile, “What’s your name by the way?”

“Meira.” She answered with a smile.”

“Ethan.”

“Nice to meet you, Ethan.”

The two drove off into the woods, stepping into Meira’ grand old house that was lovely decorated with flowers, nice chairs, paintings on the wall and even a beauty of a piano in the living room. She even had a couple of telescopes. She said that her parents died leaving with such a nice estate she couldn’t help but make it her own. Ethan was amazed by her little world inside the home, feeling cozy inside.

The two of them entered the kitchen as Meira pulled out a map and two cups of tea for them to drink out of. He joked if it was poison as she shook her head, pointing out the mapped sections within the woods.

Everything was going fine, the two chatted as they drank. Feeling at ease in the conversation, circling spots on the map onto where ‘Portland’ could’ve gotten. Meira kindly excused her to use the lady’s room as Ethan nodded for her to go right ahead. Once she left, he wondered around the hallways spitting his glass looking at the paintings of forests that didn’t look like any he’s seen before. He heard muffled sounds coming from the hallway as if Meira was on the phone with someone, he stepped into one of the rooms to find weapons.

Guns, bows and arrows, hats, throwing stars and much more. He slowly exit the room into the hallway, moving slowly. Suddenly, the sound of a gun cocking is heard turning around to meet Meira’s face who grinned.

“I see you found some new toys for Portland.” She said holding the gun to his face.

He raised an eyebrow, “I've already called for backup, they'll be here any second.” “You haven't called anybody... for the same reason you didn't tell me about your real plan. You don't want anybody to know you're here, which means nobody does.”

“Have you been watching me?”

“Maybe?”

“Your telescope. You've been watching me. Why?”

“I need you to do something for me…brother.”

She gently shoves him into a room, telling him to sit down in the chair in front of her desk, he does as so. As Ethan sat down, he noticed the room filled with hats on display and telescope. He even noticed a small potted plant in the corner, Meira smirked hoping his eyes darted to the small flower. She would have to thank Cassie later for it. She explained to him the situation here, along with the curse. Ethan rolled his eyes at Meira.

“Have you been reading Belladonna’s book?” Ethan asked.

Meira smirked, “Belladonna? You mean the Mal’s favorite hand maiden?"

“Belladonna’s, the Liane’s adopted kid.”

“Oh, Bella. Your Belladonna…and her book of stories, the ones that you choose to ignore. Maybe if you knew what I know, you wouldn’t.”

“Why have you been spying on me? Why did you call me ‘brother’? I don’t have a sister..”

“Yes you do. I’m your baby sister and Cole is your brother. You just don’t remember, cause you scared of the truth. Because for the last 16 years, I've been feeling stuck, day after day. Until one night, you, in your car, roll into town, and the clock ticks and things start to change. You seeI know what you refuse to acknowledge, Ethan. You're special. You brought something precious to the town—magic!”

“You’re insane.”

“You say that. But we know you seek to know that town is a little crazy. You show know, you’ve been around crazy you’re whole life! The tattoo on your arm is a small symbol of it.”

Ethan was silent, looking down at the tattoo on his arm, he was a feather. He didn’t remember getting it, alway assume it was due to a drunk night out with friends. Ever since he arrived, he felt strange around this town, the very fact that Cole decided to be nice to him surprised him, and now this. One look at Meira, he could tell she was onto something but he refused to acknowledge it like the rest of the damn town. She wanted him to look around and open his eyes, to wake up from whatever dream he has created his head.

She wanted him to take a second to remember who he was, that he had magic, skills untapped that just doesn’t want to take back. Make her a hat. Muscle memories as one would call it. He barked back that she has enough already but she responded that known of them work. However he can make some, due to their being very few magical elements in the real world.

He looked around briefly letting out a chuckle, “The hats, the tea, the bow and arrows…you’re somewhat psychotic behavior…you think you’re the Mad Hatter.”

She sighed with a smirk, “Yes, and I don’t think. I know. The name’s Merida, but some like to sweetly mistaken it as Meira.”

“You’ve clearly glommed onto my kid’s book. Well, the kid’s thing, but they are just stories. The Mad Hatter, he’s in-“

“She! She is supposed to be in Wonderland. But travels to other land that look just like this one, you should know. You’ve done it! You’re the Ace Of Hearts, The Knight of the realms..one of the plenty of Prince Charming’s around..”

“It’s all in a book! Stories that I’ve read in school, myself. I am no hero of those tales..they are hysterical stories.”

She sat down on the desk in front of her, leaning in with an almost convincing smile as she said, “Stories? Right, just stories. Tales of many kind..and where do you think they come from? History books are based on a version of history. And storybooks are based on what, imagination? Where does that come from? It has to come from somewhere.”

“Mhm..yeah..” He responded staying quite listening to her rant as his gears started to turn.

“That’s where we all come in! Every tale comes from somewhere, cue in our characters, from Nik being Prince Charming to Luna being the Huntress in his tale, simple really.”

“Simple? You want me to believe that?”

“You know what the issue is with this world? Everyone wants some magical solution to their problem, and everyone refuses to believe in magic. It’s not that hard, just open your mind.”

“Yeah, right open your mind..to this one reality!”

At that, she barked back standing from her chair leaning into his face with a knowledge smile. He leaned back, a hint of fear washes over him. He heard everything she said but there was something he feared from it all.

That she was right.

“What are you so afraid of?! All of the evidence is slowly coming into light, right there in front of you! God, dad must’ve made you hit your head a little too hard when you escaped..” She exclaimed, her gaze following him sight, “What is holding you back?”

That made Ethan finally snapped as a glare reached his eyes as he snarled, “Of this! I’m afraid of this. You think I am such a worthy hero? A Knight from Wonderland? Prince Charming?! I don’t want that job back on my shoulders! I may not remember what you’re saying but you’re making hard to run back and stay in my perfectly safe mind.”

Meira smirked, “There it is!”

“You know what’s it like to be separated from your kid? It makes you lose your mind wondering if they are okay! I just got her back, I am not willing to lose her again..I can’t be this hero—your Prince Charming, I don’t want it. I ain’t hero..”

“One of the heroes..only some of us remember who we are, the others don’t. But the kids do! It’s time to wake up, Ethan. Grab your pals and break this damn curse.”

The two of them were standing at this point. Meira even showed him across the telescope the town, the homes, her brother and friends. She said that they don’t remember anything, her parents don’t remember who they are. She can’t tell them, which drives her mad. Drives everyone mad when you can’t be with the ones you love. Ethan nodded understanding her statement, how it can make you feel like you’re losing your mind sometimes.

He shrugged saying it possibly a chance he believed, that she said was true. She smiled, as she turned around to pick up the hat, he picked up the telescope and strikes her with it, knocking her out cold. He muttered that she’s crazy, making sure she was alright as his gaze fell to a tattoo of a heart on her shoulder, before taking the gun and rushing out. He took one last glance at the flower, snatching up a knife from the kitchen before he left.

As he rushed out of the house, racing across the woods he spotted a certain brunette running looking over his shoulder. He noticed it as Nik who explained he tipped Erik off while he was asleep. The clock chimed as the two men exchanged a look knowing they had something they needed to do soon before it got dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile Belladonna and Rick went scouting the woods in search of the missing person. Rick leaned into his older path, tracking the more natural way searching foe clues. Finding a piece of cloth and dark dry blood marks on the ground, gasping at the sight. As they were moving in closer, Belladonna went the more tech route linking Joshua’s phone to hers, tracking him there. There was a low signal that was rather faint, but it was there.

Both of their radars went off, exchanging a couple of looks rushing off to the place where he must’ve gone. Rick stepped up the doorstep of the home banging on the door, getting a sense of nostalgia when it came to house. As if he knows it from somewhere. Like he’s been here before, but couldn’t place his finger on it. Belladonna noticed the small half smile on his lips as it seemed like a fragment of his mind was trying to tell him something but he had no idea what it was.

Funny how the mind work, huh?

There was ruffling sounds coming from the door, a heavy breath that could be heard loud and clear. As the door opened, dark brown eyes met the very blue of the blonde man who lowered his fist from the very door she opened. A connecting twinkle sparked between them, like a swirling look of acceptance and confusion at the circumstances.

“Luna?” Muttered the blonde, nodding for Bella to follow him inside.

“I um..R-rick..wh-what are you d-doing here? Wh-who is she?” She repiled, looking worried and nervous on the two visitors, “Uh..you can’t come in..”

But it was too late.

“Who is she? More like, who are you? And don’t play coy with me..” Belladonna asked eyeing the pink haired woman who looked petty and guilty in her eyes.

“I um..don’t know what you’re talking about.” Luna respond, looking between her and Rick, “I didn’t do anything, if that’s uh-what you’re thinking…”

“Likely story. Where is he? Where were you the last 24 hours?”

“I don’t know where you’r talking about..I um..I-i-i ww-was at h-home.”

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose and scoffed, “Luna, honey, I know you’re lying. What happened?”

Luna looked scared and more than guilty looking down, “..I-he m-made me do it..I was given a favor..f-for-for I can get a g-great deal o-on my at-store..it was a n-nice uh-thought…”

Belladonna didn’t wait another second, hearing the couple talk in the room as she hurried into every room on the first and second floor of the small house. She could hear exact footsteps and voices coming their way upstairs. She assumed it was her father and the others. A couple of screams were heard.

She paused as her ears caught wind of the muffled screams coming from the basement as she let out a small gasped, opening the lock and hurried down to find her friend on the ground weakly trying to break free. She felt horrible, rushing over to step untie him starting with his hands that were tired behind his back. He dropped the glass of the class cup that sliced a corner of his hand as she heard tiny whimpers coming from him.

Joshua’s eyes were red and puffy from crying, his gaze was dark almost like they lost his light. He was quiet, almost numb but responsive which was a clear positive sign for her. She pushed some hair out of his face as his body flopped over to the ground as she shouted for him to stay awake. But he couldn’t he was tired, annoyed and hungry.

She carefully led him upstairs calling for help up the steps, as thankfully Rick was there reaching for Joshua who weakly took his arms to hold onto. Belladonna blocked out his conversation with Luna as her only thought was on Josh’s health.

As she led him out the door and into the front of the house down the steps across the woods, in a flash came her father and Nikolai turned up rushing to side. Both adults rushed to the exact child. Ethan held his daughter close, proud of her for today’s action, walking them back looking over at the others. Belladonna carried the backpack on one shoulder. Nikolai held Joshua’s close, running a hand across his face telling him to stay awake and they will be home soon enough.

~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the station, everyone was getting cleaned up. Erik talked to the adults, not pressing any charges on Nikolai for what happened, seeing a worried father take place in front of him. Rochelle was helping to gently clean Joshua’s wounds as he kept quiet. Ethan was nursing an wound that ended up on Belladonna’s body, despite her effort to tell him she was fine, he didn’t listen.

“What happened back there?” Rochelle asked dabbing a cotton ball on his forehead as the boy hissed.

Nikolai was wrapping his hand in a bandage, “..buddy, you need to tell us..”

Joshua was just silent, looking at Rick then Luna. But his gaze fell on Bella who locked eyes with him, as if to send a single signal to her onto what happened, who harmed him. She got what he meant and sighed.

He inhaled and hissed, “..I was in the woods, searching on a clue on our new case with the sighting of wolves and more campers lately, I saw something in the road..when I was knocked out cold, I woke up in the basement..my backpack away from me, tied up as Bella saw..”

Nikolai didn’t know what came over him, pushing his hair out of his face being gentle with his wound concerned with his state wondering what was going inside his head. The light in his eyes flickers out like a old used flashlight, like the sun was coming down to rest as the night took over for him. He noticed Erik questioning Luna onto what happened, as Rick backed her up. Ethan was taking notes of what happened, as the wildness of the woods still played in his head. Rochelle chimed up with her insights on the townsfolk and the accident that might’ve led up to it.

He shook his head, deciding to take him home to rest at their loft instead, ignoring Ethan’s calls saying they will talk later.

~~~~~

Once the two arrived home, Joshua lay down on the couch as Nikolai got some fruit to eat as he across from asking if he could open the backpack for him. The teen just nodded, watching him with blurry vision eating the long awaited food, humming at the taste of fresh blueberries and slices of mango entering his mouth. It felt better than expected.

Later on, after a quick shower and now in cleaner clothes he found his father in the kitchen wiping up two grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. He watched him with tense shoulder, as the man hummed in comfort clothes than the pair of jeans and hoodie he was wearing earlier.

He knew he was waiting for him to talk about anything else that happened, as the teen just sighed and muttered, “..where were you?”

The older brunette paused from flipping the two slices of bread to look over his shoulder and reply, “Umm what?”

“I was gone for almost 24 hours and you were nowhere to be found..I was hoping you’ll be the one to find me..”

“Joshua..when you didn’t come I was worried, I called you phone plenty of time and you didn’t pick up. Next thing I know I was put behind bars at the sheriff’s station because they thought I did something to you..that I had something to do with your disappearance..”

“Wh..b-but yo-you escaped..I-i saw you!”

“I couldn’t any longer for bail or to be prove innocent to go after you, so I broke out of there! That’s what I came late to find you..I am so sorry..I should’ve listen to my gut and ran to search for you..”

“I needed you and you weren’t there..”

That caused Nik to turn around and face him. That words sting like a bee. He blinked hearing this words replay in his head over and over again like a drumbeat. He saw the look on his face that almost broke his heart.

He looked down for a moment, shaking his head hating that he made him feel that way, the words sounded like it came from a different place. As if he broke the line.

“Wh..what is that supposed to mean exactly? Josh, I haven’t said anything lately, but you’ve been holding something back ever since we started this whole thing..” Nik admitted crossing his arms, giving him a certain look, “What’s going on here? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“..um..you won’t get it.” Josh repiled, looking away for a moment, “..you won’t..”

“Try me. Go ahead.”

“Alright..you want the truth.”

Joshua took a breath and scoffed, “You let me go out that door last night, without a care in the world, because you thought you could trust me and look where it got me! I’m hurt because you’re brother decided to have me kidnapped because he knows if the truth gets out on what he plans to do with the town..he will be doomed.”

“I’mma stop you right there! Alexander kidnapped you and you didn’t expect to tell me this?! This is serious matter, Joshua I don’t care what his plan is, he harmed a kid. He tricked one of the townsfolk to keep you there.” Nikolai exclaimed with an anger in his stomach growing. “That’s my point! He wants to keep everyone locked up in this town for god knows what reason, cause he knows if everyone is happy he will have no power over us..I stayed quiet about this for weeks now I am not taking it anymore!”

“Alexander kidnapped you and harmed you in a way that shouldn’t be expected at any point. No kid should go though that..did he do anything else?” “I’ve been hit before at old homes, it seems like before I was knocked out cold I was fighting someone..but Alex, he just threaten me over and over again..he..he called me an orphan, a lost boy..that I will never know who I really am..I um..”

He started to get chocked up as he recounted all the bad things Alexander said to his face and all the things he told him. He was told stuff like this before, that he was a child. He’s got nothing to prove, nothing at all. Nikolai walked around the kitchen island setting in between the stools wrapping his arms around the teen, as running his fingers across his hair to smooth out his cries. He felt like a part of his way his fault, it was. He pressed a small kiss onto his hair and hummed trying to hush him as he listen to Joshua’s comments. He made a silent promise to himself to not let him feel that way again, not feel hurt or alone.

Then he heard it.

A small whimper that came from Joshua as he let go of his arms. He watched him go to his room, then come back with a blanket. A baby blanket with his name engraved in a font, on the side was a small little monkey. He handed it to Nikolai as he noticed the way he ran his fingers crossed the letters and the patch, he let out a small chuckle he knew his style of drawing better than the back of his hand. He took one glance at Joshua, trying to piece the words together. He noticed a old stuffed bear in his hands.

He spoke, “Remember the stories I told you..the ones you would hear us talk about at the diner, how each one of us like to talk bullshit for the characters are real and how they are our parents..I believed in that because I wanted to hope there was a sign they were out there..then..”

“Then all of this happened..” He continued for him, taking it all home, “..you had theses ups and down your whole life..and I walked in. The hot chocolate, the artist in you, the fact that..your looks..I’m your..”

“Yeah..I might need an DNA test to prove it but..”

“Prince Charming..me? I have..how long have you this?”

“For a while now..I-i didn’t know how to tell you or bring it up..because I didn’t think, I couldn’t wrapped by head around it..”

He didn't know whether to believe it or not. He was sure, he wasn't from some fantasy world. But how do you react to the kid who has been staying with you, is now saying you might be their father?

Nikolai walked over placing a hand over his cheek as his thumb rubbed his cheekbone, not knowing where he got his eyes from but he does have his chin, eyebrows, and—well his face in general, for sure. A a quarter of his height for the added measure. But there part of him that he must’ve gotten from his mother..

“Who did I screw to make you?” Came out his question.

The concept of him being his son was still wild to him, he probably needed an DNA test and answers on who the mother was. He has been with a couple of women over the years, so he wonder who is was.

Why come now with the questions? But a part of him could only wonder what came next.

———-

Ahh I am so sorry if this was long! I hope you guys like it. I’ll love to see your comments and insights you might have. Any thoughts on things.

Click here to see what else was happening during all of this

Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @thechoooooosenone @luna-d-marsh @rooster-84 @thecavalrywife @cherrysft and etc

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the-widow-sisters · 9 months

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Can you do Kate and Natasha “Close your eyes. Everything’s okay. I’ve got you.”

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I love writing me some Kate and Natasha feels 🥰💖 Hopefully I did them justice in this one 💗 It's been a while, lol

I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.3k+

“Close your eyes. Everything’s okay. I’ve got you,” Natasha whispered to Kate, holding her in her arms as Kate sunk into her.

It had been a rough day for Kate. She had done nothing but screw up all day long, and she had felt like everything was turned against her. Lucky had somehow gotten out of her room, and she had lost him somewhere in the compound. It had freaked her out until Carol brought him back to her.

After the Lucky episode, Kate had decided to finally have lunch and it turned out that Peter had eaten the last of the dirty rice in the kitchen. Which had left her in a less than happy mood.

And then to top off everything, she twisted her ankle during practice that day and she had to call things quits.

So at the end of the day, she had finally dragged herself to Natasha and Yelena’s house, craving affection from the one person that could make it all better. Natasha had thankfully been the one to answer the door— Yelena had been and still was in the shower at the moment— and as soon as Kate stepped in and let all of the words come tumbling out, Natasha had offered to cuddle with her.

Which brought them to where they were now as they lounged on the couch and Kate laid on top of the older woman.

Listening to Natasha’s words, Kate obeyed finally, shutting her eyes as she took in the scent of one of her favorite people in the world. Natasha was always there for her.

She always loved Natasha’s embraces. It made her feel like she was being wholly enveloped by the older woman despite the fact that Kate herself was taller and larger than her. Something about the way that Natasha held her and how Kate’s head was pressed into Natasha’s collarbone and throat with Natasha’s legs encasing the sides of Kate’s body gave the feeling of complete safety.

“It’s just been rough, Tasha,” Kate mumbled against her, and Natasha shook her head, kissing the top of Kate’s as she pressed her nose to her hair.

“I know, angel… Just don’t think about it. I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Natasha told her, her soft reassurances slipping from her tongue as naturally as ever.

Kate could not help but feel the stress slipping from her bones and dissipating from her soul as she reveled in the feeling of Natasha’s arms around her. Natasha stroked her hair, her hands soft as her fingers softly threaded through the strands and met the scalp underneath. Kate could not help the smooth, slightly dopey hum underneath her breath as she enjoyed the sensations.

“You’ve always got me, Tasha,” Kate softly confessed, Natasha’s gentle breaths through her nose falling against her head.

“You’re the best,” Kate murmured, and Natasha hummed noncommittally.

“You’re sweet,” Natasha simply replied, her voice uncertain despite the warmth within it. Kate knew that Natasha did not agree with her. However, Kate knew she did not have the energy to fight her on it right now.

However, Natasha could bet she would say something about it later when she was recharged some.

It was as she heard Fanny’s nails clicking around on the floor some distance away that Kate thought of Lucky again, remembering how scared she had been when he had disappeared like he had.

“I guess somebody must have gone into my room to find me or something… That had to be how Lucky got out,” Kate stated, the worries resurfacing a little in her mind, and Natasha made some noise in the back of her throat, the vibration of it tickling a little against Kate’s head.

“He’s safe now, though.”

“Yeah… I just don’t want to see anything happen to him, though. Out of everything that happened to me today, that’s the part that bothered me the most,” Kate admitted, her voice gentle as she spoke into Natasha’s hoodie.

Natasha let out a gentle breath, and Kate could feel her shift ever so slightly underneath Kate as she tightened her hold on her.

“Don’t worry. Whoever let him out will get an earful,” Natasha promised, and Kate could hear the barely disguised protectiveness and irritation in Natasha’s voice as she thought of whoever had caused Kate pain. Kate could not help the sparks of something warm in her chest at Natasha’s watchfulness over her.

Natasha always brought the safest feeling to Kate, and she somehow had a way of reassuring her that everything would end up alright.

Interrupting the intense feeling of comfort that she was feeling, she suddenly heard the smallest noise not too far off. It sounded like a floorboard creaking.

Quickly following this, to Kate’s complete surprise, she suddenly felt a heavy weight on her lower back and behind area. Kate let out a grunt as it made impact, and Natasha let out a soft groan before chuckling warmly herself. Kate opened her eyes, looking behind her as she took in what had hit her.

To her shock, it was Yelena perched on top of her. She was leaned back against the back of the couch as she unceremoniously sat on top of Kate, squishing her to the couch cushions as she unashamedly got comfortable without a single thought for Kate’s potential discomfort.

Kate was slightly concerned about Yelena having heard her conversation with Natasha. She was not entirely sure how Yelena would react, but she trusted her.

However, Yelena did not even look in Kate’s direction. She instead simply turned on the television, watching it as Fanny rounded the edge of the couch to join her owner.

Kate’s eyes widened as Fanny caught sight of her and her tongue lolled with the promise of what she was about to do. Kate instantly started pulling back as Fanny excitedly put her paws up on the edge of the couch cushions just beside Natasha and started toward Kate’s face, fully aiming to lick her.

Kate let out a slight squeal, giggling as she reached out and tried to block the dog from getting to her.

Natasha laughed as Kate tried to escape Fanny’s tongue as she excitedly lapped and tried to get her to give her pets. Even Yelena was chuckling as she took in the sight, and after a moment, she finally shook her head and spoke up.

“Down, Fanny. Come over here and sit,” Yelena told her, and Fanny reluctantly left Kate alone as she approached Yelena. Yelena leaned over a little from her high vantage point perched on Kate’s back, and she petted the dog’s head.

“Good girl. Besides, you don’t want Kate Bishop germs in your mouth, do you?” Yelena joked, making a playful jab at Kate despite the fact that it was not directly pointed at her. Kate just groaned softly, not impressed but not gracing it with a response as she snuggled into Natasha’s arms.

Natasha sweetly wiped Kate’s face with her sleeve, cleaning her of the dog slobber before letting her slightly calloused yet soft hand stroke Kate’s cheek with its coolness.

“Listen, she’s been over there wallowing in her feelings, and while you’re a good girl for trying to make her feel better, she doesn’t need you licking her right now. Not when she almost lost Lucky. You know, your best friend that always licks his butt,” Yelena told the dog with a small chuckle, her voice gentle as she spoke.

Although Fanny could not understand a word, it was clear that the words were not uttered for the benefit of the dog.

Kate could not help but feel herself warm and a bubble of pure happiness settle over her. She could feel Natasha’s soft hum as her head shifted and she looked at Yelena, sharing some sort of unspoken communication. She then dipped her head down, her cheek brushing Kate’s head as she rested against her.

Kate just shifted slightly, getting comfortable with Yelena’s weight on her as she nestled further into Natasha’s arms and watched the television that Yelena had sweetly changed to one of Kate’s favorite recorded movies.

In that moment, she could not help but forget all about her frustrations from earlier.

Kate had never felt more at-home in her life.

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desafia · 2 years

Text

@webheadedhero sent: [ SIX ] for receiver to witness sender get hurt which sends them into a violent rage.

this is the reason she didn’t want him to get involved. there are a great many horrors she can ( and has ) endured. she has learned how to take pain into herself and accept it. but one thing she cannot take, is seeing any kind of harm befalling peter. unfortunately, it seems to be an unavoidable occurrence with him...seeing blood seeping from the torn threads of his suit only enrages her more to know the demons of her own past are the culprits this time. a mixture of fear and anger widens her eyes before she speaks ❝ stop— ❞ brows furrow as pupils dilate and it is, at first, almost a subconscious reflex of her mind. her energy reaches out quickly to take hold of every life form around them.

they do just as she had wished. they stop. frozen in place, as if she has reached in and put a dam between the neural pathways leading to their motor functions. vaguely, she’s aware she’s latched onto more than the people who attacked him. somewhere, beneath the floor, there’s a rat. and just outside the window, some poor squirrel. but she doesn’t know how to release them and keep hold of their enemies. and she is too angry to care. magnolia draws in a deep breath, pressure building in her own skull.

she knows he doesn’t like it when she kills. but they hurt him. all the exceptions, all the logical reasons why they have to be put down are there. but not a single one of them are a motivating influences when she starts to press into their pain receptors. they hurt peter. they want to kill peter. that is reason enough. that’s always reason enough. cries of pain fill the air and it only makes her push more into their brains, she pushes every horrible image she can think of, all the worst things she has ever felt, she stuffs inside pathways not meant to handle such input. her head slowly tilts to the side as she pushes in. until, finally, there is no more resistance left. they all just...snap. and it’s quiet again.

lashes flutter as her gaze comes back into focus. there are bodies on the floor but the only one she cares about is him. the anger recedes and leaves her with a cold, small feeling. ❝ peter? ❞

#webheadedhero #ANSWERED: ❝ i feel it in my bones，how much you crave to be heard. ❞#congrats ur the first one i get to use her black eyed icons w

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la3na · 2 years

Text

@wyhlds kate wrote: ❛ is it my fault ? ❜

irritation prickles beneath his skin. but that flame singeing his soul is reserved for no one but himself. the great part of these past four hundred years have been spent in solitude. his manners and social skills are unrefined, sometimes brutish in nature, and wholly unprepared for intimate conversations which demand delicate approaches. it is with this self awareness that he draws in a slow breath. palms press against cold, porch railings, bitten by frost, fingers curling slightly. dark gaze stares blankly at cracked asphalt below. it is his own unwillingness to more clearly explain their situation which digs this hole ever deeper for himself.

❝ i can’t resist you. ❞

his voice finally rumbles out, disturbing the stillness which had begun to blanket the autumn morning. malek turns his head to cast his eyes towards the woman, finally. ❝ i am bound to your will, ❞ he ventures further, with a weight to the gravity in his gaze ❝ to your needs. ❞ it would be so much simpler if all his curse included was to keep her alive. but it is so much more complicated than that. ❝ you don’t understand the power you possess...over me. ❞

with a sigh, he looks back out towards the road before them and the tree-line beyond it where he belongs. ❝ no. it’s not your fault. ❞ he finally concludes ❝ you did nothing to anger me—this time. i needed to be away. there were other things to attend to. ❞ or to run away from.

#wyhlds #ANSWERED: ❝ i feel it in my bones，how much you crave to be heard. ❞#mal: i'm talking about the curse #narrator: he is not in fact talking about just the curse he is having an emotion

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weetrash · 2 years

Text

BokutoxFem Reader

Cw: +18. Very smutty fic. Friends to lovers, Slow smut, Lot’s of foreplay, fingering, oral sex, stuffing kink, mating press, prone bone

Tonights the night.

~~~~~~Earlier that week~~~~~~~

Bokuto held YC in his lap, his hands slowly groping and caressing her breasts, her tank top now was loosely bunched around her mid drift and her lips grazed and pecked his.

She gazed upon his amber eyes, anticipation and neediness were all that she saw. The hungry gaze of the buff man was something she had never seen this close up. Sure he had a familiar aura, she had felt it many times before during every match of his she attended. Was it eagerness? A competitive streak? Arousal- well, of course it was arousal…but there was something more to it. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself.

For now she just wanted to enjoy the moment. She fluttered her eyes close, her voice softly seeping into their passion as Bokuto eagerly kissed and touched.

He hungrily kissed her lips, his excitement was blatant and he couldn’t get enough of her lips. He greedily began to explore, enjoying the sweet taste of her beneath his tongue. Her moans were better than any cheering he had ever heard, it just motivated the olympian to dive into the next step.

Not forgetting to be gentle, he began to slowly trail the kisses to her neck and shoulders, sliding the straps of her bra down her shoulders ever so gently. He wanted to see. He wanted to touch, grope, suck, bite. He wanted it more than anything and he had secretly craved this for so long. He sunk his teeth into her sweet spot, making sure to be gentle yet firm. He sucked softly on her skin, caressing up and down the sides of his torso, edging his hands up to soon touch a much awaited sensual area of hers. He wanted a reaction first to grasp how ready she was, and oh boy was he getting a good reaction.

His arousal began to grow more prominent, his lust rendered him drunk off her body. Awareness was slipping away from both of them.

She began to tremble, her skin heating up under his fingers. His lips tickled and nipped her skin. Upon shivering when he took his bite, she jumped, letting out a surprised yelp and bucked her hips into his. “K-Kotaro!~”

Thats when they both stopped, YCs face now hot with embarrassment and her hands now clasped over her lips. She uttered his first name. They had always been on casual terms but this was an unexpectedly effective way to raise the heat of their moment. She glanced down only to see Bokuto starring up at her with a bright pink tint to his face.

She could feel something hard in his lap and he knew that she knew what is was. They both starred at each other, now fully aware of where things had gone.

Within seconds, YC had hopped off his lap and was quickly pulling her shirt over her chest while shyly making up excuses. “Sorry! My bad- I mean um. I didn’t mean to uh. I have finals on Monday, I should go home and study some more. I’ll text you when I get home!”

She scrambled to grab her belongings while quickly scrambling out of his bedroom and out the house.

Bokuto sat there on his bed, his hands still in the air where her torso once was, very confused as to what the hell just happened. He had his usual lost stare, now groping the empty space in front of his before pouting, “no boobies…?”

Blissfully unaware of the fact that they had both graduated college a few years ago.

~~~~~~

It took days for YC to finally calm down enough to actually text him back with one worded answers. She was practically dying from embarrassment the entire time. They had always had a sort of flirtatious friendship. Hand holding, the lack of personal space, cuddles, naps together, her bumming piggyback rides off him, him getting cuddles from her during his mood swings, and even occasional pecks on the cheek. This was all done under the obvious lie of a platonic friendship.

This flimsy shield fooled no one. Not even the infamously dense Bokuto. However there was always something holding them back. College graduation, Bokuto’s Olympian career, family crisis’, long distance, it was always something unspoken but fully excused. Things had suddenly changed now that they were both honest about their attraction for each other.

Their flirtatious friendship now had obvious emotional strings attached and now it was to late to turn back. YC wasn’t even sure if he felt the same way. Afterall, Bokuto was by nature extremely kind and just a bit flirty. She found herself at an emotional cross roads. She had deep feelings for Bokuto but he was rarely in the country these days due to his career.

What she didn’t know was Bokuto also found himself juggling the same feelings, which lead him to using any opportunity he could to come back to their home town to bug her. Even with plenty of money to buy a place, he enjoyed staying at his family home, with being just a few houses down from her.

They had a few blurred lines sure, but Bokuto couldn’t resist his reliance on her attention. When things would occasionally get a bit on the heated side, they would play their usual games of chicken. Their flirting never crossed any big boundaries beyond a few pecks and love bites. Maybe even an adventurous caress here or there, but nothing outwardly adulterated. Neither of them were aware of when the shift truly happened, but when it did, for her it meant something secretly special, but to him, it was a step in the direction he liked. He never pushed the envelope to far, but on the inside he was swooning. He may have been the sharpest knife in the drawer…in fact, he could be considered a spoon among cutlery, but he knew that all he wanted was to be the center of her attention.

Her phone pinged.

“Hey hey! Let’s hang out!”

Ping.

“Let’s go to the gym!”

Ping.

“A run?”

Ping.

“A fast walk?”

Ping.

“A stroller?”

Ping

“Wait no.”

Ping.

“Stroll?”

Ping.

“Walk? A walk. Yeah that.”

YC heard the repeated notification sound and didn’t have to even guess who it was. Her heart thumped rapidly in her chest and she sighed after reading the barrage of messages, glancing back up at the mirror and at the faint little mark he had left on her skin. She knew she couldn’t keep avoiding him forever. He was pretty dumb but he wasn’t blissfully unaware of his surroundings all the time. After all, volleyball season was over until summer and aside from training, he usually hung out with YC and the guys still in Japan. Eventually, Aakashi would be busy with an editing deadline and Kuroo would have to leave town for work. Bokuto was very high energy and required quite a bit of attention already. She couldn’t run forever.

Ping.

“Im really sorry…please talk to me.”

Her heart sunk and she felt a tinge of guilt. That was it. She couldn’t hold back any longer. She gathered up her courage along with her purse and phone and headed to the front door. She needed to talk to him in person.

She took a deep breath before openong the door. She quickly noticed something and turned her head to the right.

There was Bokuto; sitting with his knees to his chest, balled up and moping. Despite his hair being shorter, it was still obviously drooping due to his bad mood. He also had a grocery bag beside him, a few of her favorite snacks inside.

He glanced up at her and blushed before looking away, that same solemn pout still on his face.

YCs heart eased and the tension in her gut disappeared. He was so obvious that she couldn’t help but smile. After a few moments, she sighed and went to sit beside him. “You okay there bud?” She asked in a gentle voice.

Bokuto pouted, to ashamed to e and now a bit embarrassed by the way her voice lightly joked.

YC grabbed the bag and held it up, “A peace offering?”

Bokuto wouldn’t look at her. His pouty face was as cute as ever. “No… why would you think that…. It’s not like taking it would make me feel better or anything…. Look I know I messed up, I should have asked if it was okay sooner. I get it if you don’t feel like talking to me…I don’t even know why I’m here…”

She already felt bad about practically ghosting him but she couldn’t help but feel flattered by his obvious attempt at reconciliation. She knew he would probably pout if she flat out said that it was okay. She wanted to apologize herself, but not here. It was time to coax him in.

A small giggle left her lips and she opened the bag. She smiled when she saw a few drinks, her favorite savory snacks, and even some of his rare feel good cheat meal snacks. She grabbed a drink and held it up, “Darn….I really wanted some of this too. I guess im going to have to pass on ordering Yakiniku. I don’t have any yummy drinks like these to pair it with…”

Bokuto peeked over at her, his attention now grasped. “Barbecue?”

She sighed, a soft smile on her face and an obviously faked tone mixed with her sigh, “Yep, I just got a huge bonus on my pay check. I was going to order lots of pork, chicken, beef, veggies, rice…..”

His mouth was practically watering as he turned his full attention to her, “You were…gunna…eat all that…by yourself?”

YC sighed, “Hm? Me? Oh no. I was actually about thinking of finding a date. Maybe someone tall, funny, muscular, and really loves barbecue.”

Bokuto cut his eyes at her before huffing and looking away, “Oh… I see how it is….I guess he’d be better looking than me too?”

YC stared at him, once again dumb struck by how completely witless he was. She was then completely flattered by the obvious display of jealousy.

She giggled and took a chance., “You are the date silly~”

Bokuto paused for a moment before smiling and pointing at himself, “Me?”

She nodded, kissing his cheek gently and pulling away, “I didn’t mean to ignore you. Now come on.”

YC took his hand and lead him into the house, the tension between them now eased by the unspoken promise to talk it out. They knew things weren’t going to be easy but they were ready to try.

Bokuto blushed from the kiss to his cheek, gently taking her hand when it was offered and following her into the house. He wasn’t sure if she really had truly forgiven him but things were looking a lot better now

After ordering their food and pretending things were back to normal, the two of them began to play some classic video games. Neither of them were the best at the game but they were evenly matched with their skills. Eventually after tying with the frosted haired man for what felt like the 80th time, YC decided she needed a break.

With a tired sigh, she put away her controller and stretched out her arms, soon just giving up and laying her head back against the cushion of the couch they were sitting in front of.

Bokuto stopped for a moment, huffing and complaining, “Aw come on YC. You’re seriously throwing in the towel already?”

YC didn’t pay his complaint much mind. “Aw come on, in still full from all that food. Besides im bored of playing video games!”

A chuckle left Bokuto’s lips and he purred out to her, “Oh I don’t do boring. You’re just challenging me at this rate”

YN waved her hand dismissively, “Fine then! Pick a new game for us. But it has to be something new and exciting. Otherwise I’m going to bed.” She teased

Bokuto heard the discontent in her voice and stared at her for a moment, starring at a faint spot on her neck. He had left his claim on her and felt a sense of pride when he looked at the fading mark. He may have been an idiot with most things, but he had mixed emotions that required some deep thought.

He knew she was likely just teasing. She never kept her word with the petty threats along those lines. He was still unsure about her true intentions now. The way she suddenly got up and practically ran away from him. The way she kissed his cheek earlier counteracted her actions before. She even referred to him as her date. Did she feel the same as him? Did she want more? Was she just shy? Why hadn’t they ever talked about this sooner?

Amongst all of these feelings, Bokuto was also faced with a challenge. He was never one to turn down competition and something about his competitive streak made the gears in his head turn.

She was as beautiful as ever to him and he could feel tension at the back of his throat. He didn’t know if indulging in his feelings for her was the best idea but his heart was aching for her at this point. Each trip back home after a season just made him miss her so much more when he went away. He knew he had to act before summer rolled around this year or else he would lose his mind.

After what he experienced with her earlier that week, he didn’t think he could keep these feelings back anymore. Each memory of her soft lips brushing up against his made his chest pound. He wanted so much more from her. He decided that tonight he could try be a bit more selfish.

He took the opportunity of her guard being down to gulp back the lump in his throat. After taking a deep silent breath, he leaned his body in close to hers and pressed his lips against her neck, softly planting two kisses near her earlobe and jaw to get her attention

YC quickly opened her eyes, a gasp leaving her lips and her eyes soon meeting his. “Boku..to…”

He gazed back at her a now competitive gleam coming from his stare “Wanna play chicken again? Loser has to say what they’re feeling?…”

YC blushed, her cheeks hot with embarrassment when she realized where this was going. “I meant a video game!” She protested

Bokuto raised an eyebrow, “So is that a no?”

She couldn’t run from embarrassment now, she was in her own home. Not to mention, she didn’t want to run. She was acting on impulse before. It was time to see this through. She nodded

Bokuto slid his hand up to hold her cheek, his lips returning to the faint spot on her neck to remark the spot. The first thing he wanted to do was to give her something to remind her of his desire for her.

After a few moment of teasing she let out a gentle gasp, shivering under his bite. Her hands reached up to grasp his pecks, gently squeezing as she felt her body tense up from excitement.

He pulled away, chuckling softly and speaking softly, “You’re really sensitive huh?” He leaned in and briefly planted his lips against her face, gently moving in closer to show her how serious he was. His eyes remained half shut and his frequency of the kisses grew. He made sure to gently yet lovingly kiss her, giving all his focus to making sure she was comfortable.

YC soon covered her face from the embarrassment once again, sinking down into her emotions and whining out quietly, “Bokutoooo…..”

With a satisfied grin, he pulled away to whisper, “Throwing in the towel already? I guess I won. Go on, pay up…”

YC was shocked but she couldn’t flee. She didn’t want to. She felt the passion of his lips against her face. His half closed gaze was one of wanting. He even had a serious look on his face that she had only seen a few times before.

“I…” she kept her face covered.

“I…feel…nervous….so nervous I could curl up and die.” She admitted shyly.

Bokuto chuckled “Why? Are you nervous?~”

YC frowned, “That’s all you’re getting…it’s my turn now….” She said before reaching her hands back to lay on his bulky chest before pulling herself up to gently kiss his lips.

He was shocked but not detoured. That only motivated him to work harder at trying to win their little game. He eagerly kissed back, taking special care to listen and feel for what she desired in their kiss.

She pushed back into the embrace while letting her eyes slowly soften. She could feel his tongue intruding into her mouth in no time, the eagerness somehow not being overbearing. He made her whole body feel like it was going to melt.

Her hands slowly moved up and down touching the front of his tshirt, her palms resting on his large soft pecks, in love with his form. Her tongue didn’t demand much when it wrestled with his and he very easily took control, slowly taking over. The two of them fed off of each others energy, the kiss soon getting loud and wet.

A soft huff left his lips as he briefly pulled away cooing out a sweet taunt, “Gotta try harder than that if you want me to give~”

She pouted before they returned to the kiss, moving her hands up to rest at the nape of his neck. It didn’t take long until Bokuto had her pulled into his lap. His large rough grip slowly touched away at her hips and sides. He groped her curves, toying with her body while avoiding the blatantly erotic zones. He slid his hands down along the sides and tops of her thighs, his kisses now going from dominant to needy and lust driven. His tongue demanded unlimited access to her.

Before they knew it, they were both breathing heavily, barely pulled away from each other. YC huffed softly while she studied Bokuto’s expression. She just couldn’t get him to cave. He had such a determined look on his face. She only saw this from him when he was in his competitive mindset. This was a game to him and he had the upper hand. He was determined to show her he wasn’t all bark and no bite, his indulgence caused him to slip into a lust driven trance.

YC reached up slowly to touch the side of his face. She was so immersed in the moment that she felt all of her fear disappear. Instead she was driven by the competitive tension. She knew what to do to get her way. Speaking ever so softly to get his attention, she uttered out the key word to his heart, “Kotaro…”

Bokutos expression immediately changed. A bright red tint suddenly filled his cheeks and he looked away. The man had lost his nerve the second she used his first name. He didn’t know what to do next, he was frozen in place. He burried his face in her neck, hugging her close and muttering out, “That’s cheating….”

YC realized quickly that the mood had shifted. Her partner was embarrassed, so she immediately followed suit. Unlucky for her, her face was already hot from the heat of their kiss.

Bokuto had a moment of realization similar to YCs earlier that week. The girl who he had worked so hard to impress for so long was now on his lap, letting him indulge in his fantasy. She even called him by his first name. He had more thoughts going through his mind now than ever before.

“I want her so bad. I want her more than anything. That was so hot, oh my god. I need her now or else I’ll lose my mind.”

He didn’t even have to think about it, he already knew that he was rock hard and she was millimeters away from pressing up against it once again. He was struggling to fight for control. The urge to push and grind up against her was to much. He was trying so hard to avoid taking over. What was he even supposed to say to her? ‘I wanna rip your clothes off and play with you until the sun comes up and then do it some more???’

Even he wasn’t that bold. All these thoughts coursed through his mind while he gripped her hips, keeping them at bay and away from his bulge.

She could tell he was losing his nerve. She figured it was just because of her little power move. She had no idea what was going to happen now. As awkward as she may have felt, she knew she had to step up to avoid yet another night of physical and emotional edging. Now was her moment.

Sucking up her fear, YC slid her hand from the nape of his neck down to his cheek. Her other hand slid up to his shoulder and her mouth met his once again, a gentle kiss being her way of coaxing him out of her neck, “We had a deal, remember?…”

Bokuto couldn’t even react initially he was so caught off guard. He soon realized he had fallen into a new type of spiral. He was love drunk and now sinking into this new addiction. He slipped his hands up and down along her back before resting them back on her hips. His shy gaze met hers and he pouted his lips softly, “Are you sure you want to know? I can’t really put it into…words”

YC nodded softly, gently biting her bottom lip before gently pressing her forehead against his. “A deals a deal…”

Bokuto loved the look on her face, his body now slowly taking over and acting on its own. He took the gamble and kissed her cheek while closing his eyes and gently pulling her hips forward to sit on his bulging tent, the restriction only growing more intense when it made contact with her clothed warmth.

YC practically burnt up from shyness. Bokuto pulled away to watch her expression. YC covered her face once more, a soft squeak of embarrassment coming from behind her palms. They both lost the game at this point.

He gently coaxed her to talk to him with a moment of reassurance, “Do you want to stop?” While moving his hands up to gently hold the outside of her upper arms.

She shyly shook her head, letting him know that she had no intention of leaving. She wanted to see this through.

Bokuto smiled and pecked her on the exposed sides of her face. “Okay, your turn. Tell me…”

She shook her head once again, feeling her embarrassment still bubbling up inside of her. “I…want to keep going…not just for tonight either…” she admitted while retreating back into her curled up hands.

Bokuto was starting to understand what she meant and he felt his heart skip with joy. A big grin formed, “I’m going all out then, okay?~” he cooed playfully.

She couldn’t help it. She nodded and slowly plopped herself down on the ground, letting the surge of awkwardness take over until she was on the ground.

Bokuto chuckled and playfully followed behind her, climbing over her and straddling her hips. He lifted her hands off her face and placed them on his shoulders, advancing in to planting a loving kiss on her lips. No words were needed in that moment. The sexual tension grew with each passing second and before they knew it, they were soon wrestling their tongues once more with a deep and heavy passion.

YCs hands were rubbing up and down Bokuto’s torso, occasionally pulling him down to press her chest against his during particular deep moments. Amongst their shuffling and petting, she managed to slolwy buck her hips up to press herself up against his prominent crotch.

As soon as her hips made contact with his lap, he let out a small chuckle, pleased by her body language. His amber stare clouded with desire while his hand slid up and found a handful of her breast.

He was pleasantly suprised to discover a lack of barrier, the only thing separating the skin to skin being her thin tshirt. The eagerness almost took over as he carefully groped and rubbed. It wasn’t long before he rubbed around and felt her nipples perked under the thin tshirt fabric. He pulled away with a smug grin, pink still lightly tinting his pale cheeks. One thing was on his mind and he had began losing control of his patience and gentleness. “Looks like my guess was right~ You weren’t wearing a bra. You’re really good at hiding it though. I turned the air on and everything, and you just kept your arms over them the whole night~”

YC gasped in shock, wincing softly when he massaged her bosom. His fingers trailing over her perky buds caused a surge of chills to run up her spine. Goosebumps danced on her already chilled skin, feeling more exposed than ever before, mostly because she had been trying to hide them this entire evening.

When she received his teasing remark, she looked at him, shocked and amazed at how sneaky he had been. She had to remember thats just because he wasn’t the smartest person she had ever met, didn’t mean he didn’t think. When he was motivated, he had a stunning ability to think ahead. “If what I did earlier was cheating, you rigged the whole game…” she huffed and pouted.

Bokuto gave her a mischievous look and spoke gently, “I always try my best to get what I want. I’ve waited so long that I had to think in my best interests.~ If I couldn’t get my way, I might as well leave with a good memory for later.” He taunted while brushing his thumb over her clothed bud.

YC trembled, gently resting her face in the crook of his neck and stifling her pleasured voice. “You didn’t have to say it out loud….that…you think of me when…you..” she trailed off while biting and caressing along the firm muscle tone of his neck.

Bokuto gasped yearning for more and now whispering gently while his cock pulsed against her clothed excitement. “I do~ All the time~ What about you? Hm?~” he cooed while his hands explored.

YC nodded slowly, now giving in to his every coo and flirt. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to her awaiting body.

YC slid her kisses down to Bokuto’s neck and with a nice little bite to his sweet spot, Bokuto jerked his hips into hers as he shivered, now pressing their clothed arousal together. Both of them let out weak moans, Bokuto using it to set a firm rhythm for him to give her a taste of how he wants to ravish her body.

It didn’t take long for his needy side to come out and he was soon motioning her to rock her hips, his spare hand now leading her rub her heat up against him. He breathed with each kiss and peck she made and soon he spoke his mind, his desires forming a low whisper for YCs ears, “You know what that means right?…I require a lot of attention. I’m gunna bug the heck out of you all the time you know?”

When she processed the comment he had just made, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. “As long as you promise to never stop needing me~”

Bokuto started to ever so slowly lose the last of his grip on his patience. He pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes and letting out a muffled pant.

He paused the kisses for a moment, slowly sliding his hands under her shirt, excited to feel the bare skin of her curves. His digits danced up her belly, admiring the contours and edges of her soft hot skin. He trailed his thumb over the peak of her bust playing with the erect nipples Once his palm pressed on the hot bare skin of her breast.

YC kissed the side of his head, her heart racing from the realization that they were taking things to the next level. Her tender breasts were already sensitive from the cold and his hot hands created a lewd sensation to course through her. Goosebumps appeared and her buds became fully erect. “B-Bokuto~”

The sound of her letting out small moans, her eyes shutting from the embarrassment of making such lewd noises, the sight of her smooth skin peaking out from under the shirt motivated his next move. He may have been explorative but it was obvious he knew what he was doing.

“Hey…say my first name again.” He cooed while moving his palms down and hooking his thumbs at the hem of her shirt, slowly pulling up.

His bulge was definitely in her way and now she has to decide to make that big step. A very big step according to the girth of his tightly restricted member. starred into his amber eyes with a gentle expression, completely submitting to his touch before whispering his name softly, “Kotaro…”

That was far more attractive than he expected. Even though he accepted that things were escalating fast and he knew hid next move, such bold moves caused him to swallow a lump in his throat as he inched closer to a sight he had only dreamt of. This was completely different than anything he had come face to face with before He lifted her shirt up over her breasts, his piercing gaze making its way to her beautiful bare torso.

YC gently lifted her hands over her breasts, covering Bokuto’s view. He wasn’t to happy about that. He pouted before moving her wrists to pin them next to her head. His grip was firm enough to make sure she couldn’t budge. With a hungry beam, he leaned in kissing and softly licking along her breasts. He placed his mouth on her right bosom, sucking briefly on her nipple before gently tugging it with his teeth.

YC yelped out softly, shivering and protesting the pleasure, “H-Hey! That’s…Nnh~ Please…They’re sensetive…” she admitted, not wanting him to stop but also being to bashful to keep her excitement down.

He was completely in love with the appearance of her bare chest. Every curve, contour, and mound was so unique to her body. He could feel his tip dampening his boxers. They had been dry humping and grinding for so long by this point that his appendage ached. He needed to act on relieving some tension soon.

His voice added to the cacophony of their intimacy. “I didn’t think you’d sound this cute” he mentioned with a moody pout while he pulled away, releasing her hands and unbuttoning his jeans to let his mound breathe.

She watched him pull away, her eyes now following his hands as they worked to free himself from his confinement. Her heart raced fast, reality setting in in a whole new way. “Bokuto~ I….” She trailed off as she stared at his large bulky frame hovering over her.

The sight of her lips being lightly swollen from their constant sucking and nibbling added insult to injury. He watched her eyes widened upon seeing his tent taking up a considerable amount of room from his boxers. His mound throbbed and pulsed with flattery. Her surprise gave him a shiver of confidence and fueled his ambition.

Leaning forward, he bit down tenderly on her left nipple adding to the love bites he scattered on her neck and chest. His digits danced down her torso from her breasts to her tummy, and in no time they had her pants down her thighs, “Hey hey…don’t forget….I want you to call me by my first name.” He whispered softly.

Bokuto had every right to feel impressed. YC was now curious just to see how intense he really was. His size was impressive to say the least. So far he was no slacker when it came to foreplay so when he but down on one of her most gentle areas

YC complied, panting his name into the kiss, “Kotaro please~ I….I love…” she trailed off, to bashful to finish the sentence

He moved his hand to hold her cheek, “I do too…”

He spoke in a hushed tone, a serious look in his eyes, “I want you to be mine….and only mine.~”

He pecked her lips. “You’re all I think about… all the time…I want to be selfish and take you all to myself.”

YN blushed, giving in to his moody demands and nodding softly. “Please stay by my side~”

She gently lifted her hips to help him get her pants off of her legs. Her own hand went behind her to tug at the hem of his jeans.

When Bokuto picked up on her body language he perked up, jumping into action. Once she began to tug on his clothes, he wasted no time sitting up and quickly sliding his pants off his legs. He took a moment To appreciate the scene, her black panties covering not nearly as much as he thought they would. He then ripped off his shirt, throwing it off to the side with the rest of their clothes

His hand reached down to pull her body close to him, cupping her backside, his hips reconnecting to hers while his large palms enjoying the handful. He grinned and began kissing and biting at the curve of her neck once more, realizing that his favorite thing to do was to kiss her delicate skin.

YC gasped when she felt him take a handful of her backside, only to softly giggle at the feel of his lips on her neck. She felt so much more relaxed now that they had confessed, yet the sexual tension only seemed to escalate. Her giggle shifted to a breathy moan in a matter of seconds.

He slid his hand up from her tender behind and along her side, his kisses slowly reaching to travel up to her earlobe. He began to nip at her soft lone while his other hand made its way down her lower abdomen to the lining of her panties.

YC shivered when he began toying with her ear lobe. The way he bit and bucked his hips felt primal. His clothed member ground up against her covered folds. Goosebumps formed and covered her skin, giving away just how truly excited she was. By the time his hand began to wander, her hand slowly reaching up to hold the side of his head while he kissed her.

He noticed her soft skin prickling under his fingertips and he paused his teasing to nuzzle his face into her hand. With a soft kiss he soon spoke up, “Still Nervous?” He asked while stopping his hands from venturing any further.

YC turned her head a bit to meet his gaze, nodding her head and pecking his lips to answer back softly, “Of course I am…I’ve wanted this for so long….now it’s for real…”

Knowing she felt the same was reassuring. The only negativity he felt was the regret of not acting on his urges sooner. “I guess I shouldn’t keep you waiting then…I won’t let you down then…I’ll do my best,” he said with hungry voice

“Kotaro….” She whispered his name again while touching the side of his face.

He smiled softly, using a soft kiss to her temple to relax her while he slipped his hand onto the front of her panties. He made sure to rub along the crevic of her heat, paying extra attention to add pressure to her most sensitive spot. The gentle petting and edging was something he was excited to indulge on. Making sure he could pleasure her the whole night was a dream of his that he was ready to make a reality right now. He watched her carefully while touching and caressing her soaked slit, brushing the tips over her awaiting clit to gage her sensetivity

YC let out a quiet yip, “Aa-aah!~” she whimpered when his fingers grazed along her awaiting bud.

He loved the sound of her voice but he loved what he felt under his fingers even more. Dampness had already taken over her heat, “I barely touched you and you already sound this cute~” he taunted.

She tried to remain still as he began to circle his fingers around the bud. Her mind was already racing and she couldn’t argue back. Her spare hand held his tough shoulders, marveling at how hot and flushed his skin was. She had only seen his skin turn this gentle hue of pink when he was drunk. She would soon come to realize that he was drunk. He was drunk off of her body and now she was partaking in the same debauchery.

The way he only gently grazed her most tender button was truly a sign that he was going to rally her lust. She rocked her hips into his hand, her ass pressing against his bulging mound and practically pushing herself into his lap despite laying under him. She wanted him to know that she wanted so much more.

With his dick twitching eagerly, he rocked his hips against hers, teasing her wetness and letting it dampen his boxers before applying pressure from the tips of his fingers to her soft bud. His digits easily slipped over her clit, already damp, fully aroused, and eager for attention. They worked at a gentle speed, establishing his rhythm quickly based on her reactions and pleas for more.

Excited gasps left YCs lips as she felt his fingers begin to touch on her eager bud. Arousal displayed on her cool skin and with each rub and flick of her bud she could feel herself melting under his fingertips. She could already tell by how attentive he was being that he only wanted to please her and he was doing so well already. It made her even more excited to see how fun this would be.

Bokuto watched her closely, his digits feeding into each reaction she gave him. Her hips rocked forward into his fingers so she could get as much pleasure as possible. Knowing how delicate her body was with pleasure, it wasn’t long before she felt herself nearing the edge. She let out small yelps, pants, and whimpers.

Shivers, whimpers, and the prickle of hot breath, flooded Bokuto’s senses. There was so much chemistry between the two that they could both feel the fireworks of compatibility firing off wuth each touch. A big grin filled the frosted haired mans expression and he kissed her cheek before removing his hand from her panties and licking and sucking on his middle and ring finger.

YC watched, soon reaching her hands up to hide her face from the embarrassment. He frowned, using his other hand to move her hands from her face, “I won’t let you keep doing that. Look at me…please.”

YC felt like her face was on fire and all she could do was nod while looking into his love lacquered gaze.

He moved his hand back between her legs, his fingers gently caressing and teasing over her entrance. It wasn’t long before she heard his playful coos. “Don’t be embarrassed~ You look so tasty I couldn’t resist.” His lubricated fingers slipping into her upon the last word leaving his lips.

YC may have felt shy from his teasing, but that quickly disappeared when she was taken over by his thick fingers penetrating her hole. He filled her cave with such a slow and careful stroke, carefully feeling for her sweet spots. His extremities reacted to each gasp and moan moving on instinct while all of his focus went to a half lidded stare at her gorgeous face.

Her hole was slick and tight. The snug feel was enough to drive him mad with anticipation. He wanted to just fuck her senseless already but the need to see her a dripping and begging mess came first. He wanted to see her a complete mess with pleasure so that he could savor every moment that they shared tonight.

She resisted the urge to press her hips back against him, failing miserably as he curled his fingertips to her gspot.She didn’t want to seem so weak and pathetic right off the bat, but it just caused her to whine out his name with the most pitiful voice. “Hng-Ko-Kotar-Kotaro!~”

He couldn’t take it. He pulled his fingers out with a satisfying schlick and yanked her panties to the side so he could see her soft lower lips. He pressed her legs up, holding them in place before dragging his tongue over her soaked slit, soon diving his tongue into the divot that housed her clit. He began rubbing along it with his tongue, loving the taste of her sopping heat with each flick of her bud.

YC whined and begged, her gasps being the only thing to separate her needy moans. His tongue quickly worked at her most fragile bundle of nerves, causing her core to flutter with a desperate throb. She trembled, throwing her head back and desperately holding on to the carpet. That wasn’t enough, her mind was foggy and her hips bucked.

Within seconds he was soon taking long greedy licks, his lips occasionally sucking on her bud in between impatient kisses. It wasn’t long until his touch slid along the epicenter of her slick juices. His tongue managed to snake its way into her hole, eagerly licking and exploring. He loved the way she tasted, how hot her skin had become, how she was starting to completely submit to his touch.

YC let out a few desperate coos, aching for more. She was getting close. Her body took over and her hands ended up in his hair, gripping it and disheveling it as she held on tight.

That only motivated Bokuto to target her sweet spot, his tongue sliding up to her desperate clit. He was going to push her over the edge in the best way he knew how. It didn’t take genius to know that the way she reacted when he played with it meant she loved it. His tongue went to work, enjoying each one of her intense pleas while she tugged on his now messy white hair.

Drool dripped from her chin as she felt her orgasm approaching. “Kotaro!~” She called out his name as a warning and Bokuto swiftly jumped into action.

He pulled her hips up closer to his face, holding her folds open by tightly gripping her thighs and cheeks, one hand lightly slapping the side of her ass upon making contact.

YC shivered, trying not to thrash her legs as she felt herself cumming. Her hands quickly came up to her mouth, releasing his now disheveled hair. She covered her mouth as she came hard, bucking her hips up to his face and curling her toes.

Bokuto eagerly licked up her juices, using the freedom of her orgasm to open up room for another one. He slipped his middle and ring fingers directly into her convulsing heat.

YC quickly bucked and rocked her hips, trembling and shaking when he presses into her gspot. Her back arched and her hands desperately moved to grip the carpet under them.

Bokuto watched her squirm and wiggle under him. Her breasts and curves bounced beautifully, causing Bokuto to stare hungrily at her, his cock now being painfully repressed from how desperate he was. It motivated him to plunged and pushed against her gspot. He sat up straight, pulling her hips close to his and pushing his palm up against her clit.

YC quaked, her body unable to contain its excitement. He kept her orgasm going, not letting it end and instead igniting another one. She couldn’t stay tense forever. Eventually she collapsed under his touch, trembling and shuddering as his palm stimulated her clit. She couldn’t hold herself back now and she let out a loud and lewd moan, her cunt now dripping with arousal and soaking Bokuto’s hand.

That was probably the hottest thing that the man had ever seen. He couldn’t resist his urges any longer. Especially when he watched her once chilly skin now starting the bead sweat over all of her sweet spots. Even the front of her panties were soaking wet. All of this was only illuminated by the blue glow of the tv

He slid his fingers out of her slippery cave, loving the slick sound her pussy made. His hand slipped the front of his now soaked boxers down, his thick member popping out while he leaned in, kissing her lips while he whispered to her, “YC…” he spoke while rubbing the thick length along her inner thighs, letting her feel how ready he was.

His hand guided itself down to his veiny pulsing girth. All it wanted to do was to stuff itself inside of YC, it didn’t matter how, it just craved relief. He rubbed the tip of his cock along her soaked panties, placing a shy peck to her cheek as he lifted one of her legs up from behind her knee

YC was still coming down from the work he put in with his mouth and fingers, she wasnt prepared for when she suddenly felt a new sensation pressing against her damp panties. She knew that she couldn’t take the wait any longer. With a gentle bite and nip at Bokuto’s lower lip, she rocked her hips up against his tip, motioning her panties to be pushed aside.

Bokuto’s soft kisses served as a distraction to the both of them. Both of them felt as their arousal began to slip and slide against eachother, only causing them to both moan and gasp into the kiss. He rocked his hips slowly, making sure to push and press his member past her thinly clothed heat and to graze his tip over her begging hole.

They both let out soft moans of relief when the heat of her lower lips pressed against his shaft. Bokuto focused on sliding the head directly over her clit, pleasuring both of them while he mentally prepared to burry himself into his lover.

YC shivered and bucked her hips as her thighs tried to instinctively close from how sensitive she still was. She gasped softly when she felt his tip attempt to slide over the well lubricated entrance. She realized quickly that he was built thickly in more ways than one. A gentle whisper left her lips to get his attention, only pausing to gently return his soft pecks, “Bokuto…I love….you…” each pause being embraced with a kiss.

He blushed a gentle pink when he finally heard her say it out loud. He pouted and looked into her eyes softly, “I wanted to say it first…” he moped while pulled her leg up to rest on his hip. He resumed the kiss, his teeth bit and tugged on her bottom lip, showing off his passion.

YC pulled him in tight, one arm wrapping under his arm to hold his bare back and the other holding onto his cheek as she fought the kiss. She slowly slithered her tongue into his mouth, grinding her hips closer to his.

Bokuto let out a soft moan when she slid her tongue into his mouth. He immediately melted to the will of her tongue. Now was as good a time as ever, he was moving according to the desires of his body. His hips moved on their own, taking over as he finally dipped the tip of his dick into her dripping hole. Feeling a chill run up his back from pure bliss as soon as the heat engulfed the head of his cock, he found himself greedily stuffing the majority of it, right into her drenched pussy.

“Fuck…” he growled softly into the kiss.

“A-ahh~ Oh god~….” YC whimpered out, trying to muffle her voice in the kiss.

The two both let out their surprised lewd moans, causing both of them to pause to adjust to the intense sensations. It only took a moment before Bokuto began to rock and stroke his hips against YCs, stuffing her hole more with each thrust. He slid his hands down to hold her hips in place while he shoved his cock into her firmly, “Fuck… it’s to good YC~”

YC leaned her head back, letting out a louder moan when he crowded himself into her further. She was surprised to discover he still had so much more to give, marveled by the sheer girth of his dick. Not only was it the tight fit, just finally being physically united with Bokuto was euphoric. He filled her in such a new and intense way. His cock was so thick and defined, able to even feel the distinct vein running along it when she focused on how he felt inside of her. She clung to him tightly, wrapping her leg up to rest on his lower back. “B-Boku…bokut-ahh~” she was a moaning mess.

She wasn’t alone. Bokuto was in shock from how delightfully hot and slick her tunnel was. It may have just been the strength of their chemistry but he had never felt this delightful. The way her pussy encased him so perfectly, the sounds it made with each thrust, how slick and ready it was for him to use as his. Everything about it was addicting. Now that he had her, his body still craved more. All he could do was pull away from the kiss, ripping off the rest of her shirt and resuming his powerful and steady rhythm with his hands tightly gripping her sides, his goal now being to watch her breasts and curves bounce with each whip of his hips.

YC cried out, whining when he briefly stopped, only to become a moaning mess when he resumed. Each firm stroke made it feel like he was hitting the back of her desperate cave. The passion sent her into a trance as her eyes focused on the gorgeously sculpted form over her. He was truly successful at proving that he wanted to satisfy her body in every possible way.

He reached his hand up, grasping her breast while roughly rocking his hips forward to push himself in deeper, their hips clapping together loudly. His eyes wandered and his strokes slowed while he took a moment to take it all in. His hand only fondled for a bit, sliding back down to hold her hips while he watched himself stretch her hole every time he pushed himself inside of her. A devious grin resurfaced and his hand slid down to her stomach, pressing down when he began to speed his thrusts up, keeping the same strength behind each thrust.

Wet sounds were quickly filling the room and YCs moans we’re starting to mix in with them. She felt like he was breaking her open with each ram, the overindulgence making her mind go completely blank. “M-More~ please~” she couldn’t help but desperately beg for more, moaning out in a lewd voice between every firm thrust.

Bokuto couldn’t resist rocking and rolling his hips to meet hers. He breathed heavily, his own grunts and pleas mixing with hers. She felt better than he had ever imagined. He didn’t know if it was the thrill of finally getting his chance with her or if it was just her body being made for him, but all he knew was he was already addicted. Such passion only made their much awaited pleasure so much more fulfilling. Bokuto could only sink deeper into bliss, his usually wide eyes now lidded and starring down at her, just starting to ravage her with all his might

Her body bounced into his desperately after each slam to her gspot. He could hear the slaps, claps, and splashed while he filled and stuffed her in just the right way, making her body convulse and react to each slam. It didn’t take long for her to reach her peak once more.

YCs body felt like an euphoric electricity coursed through it. Her skin raised with goosebumps and her eyes lidded, lust being the only expression present on her face. She had never felt herself get pushed to her limit quite like this, in that moment, her only regret was not giving her body up to him sooner. Her orgasm was completely reinvented, causing her to let out a loud and passionate cry of bliss.

Bokuto winced when he felt her pussy squeeze tightly around him. She was going to cum soon and her hole was overstimulating his cock with each pulse. This caused him to buck into her hard, shoving his entire girth inside of her in one firm thrust, holding it against her gspot while he held her face close to his, staring into her eyes half lidded as he whined quietly against her lips. He was fiercely holding his composure, trying not to release then and there. His dick was drowning in pleasure, making his body desperately hold on to her hips to hold her in place.

YC came hard, her walls tightly sucking him in. “Ko-Kotaro~ Ahh…” she whimpered against his lips as her walls pulsed and squeezed, finally starting to relax.

Kotaro shivered, closing his eyes as her hole clamped and massaged his length. This is was bad, he could feel himself already getting close to the edge.

Precum leaked out of his tip and as soon as her body relaxed, he slid himself out of her, kissing her cheeks and forehead before pulling out and quickly guiding her hips to lay her on her stomach.

YC was weak from her repeated orgasms, practically seeing double by the time she realized she was being turned onto her stomach. “I…I’m still…calming..” she could barely speak as she tried to calm down.

Bokuto stared at her bare ass in awe, unable to look away or hear what she was saying. He wanted to dive his face right in but a different need of his ached. He climbed over her, rubbing his hands up against her plump cheeks before spreading them to marvel at the view. He starred at her drenched cunt, soon pushing his shaft between her cheeks for just a moment, his tip making its way back inside her in no time.

YC let out a sensitive moan, her voice trembling when he re-entered. She gripped the carpet desperately, feeling as he squeezed into the now tighter fit and right into her sweet spot. “K-Kotaro~”

Bokuto quickly realized that he made a vital mistake. The tighter angle did nothing to service him holding back his arousal. His hips were now closer to hers than ever, her ass perked against his hips just right, her moans lewder than ever and his cock was snug inside of her. He leaned over, kissing and biting his shoulder as he tried to slowly stroke to preserve his climax. It wasn’t working.

YC shuddered, moaning as the pressure from his figure mixed with the sensations of his teeth sinking into her shoulder. She reached her hands up to cover her mouth, her emotions over flowing with each smack to her aching pussy. He had managed to keep her entirely on edge the whole time, now was no different. She felt like there was no end to his ability to satisfy her and her moans reflected that.

He couldn’t hold back, his tip leaked but he couldn’t find the strength to pull back. Instead his lips traveled up her neck and to her cheeks, motioning her to kiss him. To make sure of this, he snaked his hands up the back of her neck and to the base of her skull, grabbing her by the base of her hair and aiming her face to his. He wanted to kiss her desperately but he also did this to hush her moans. He loved them so much that they were pushing him over the edge. He couldn’t control his hips anymore, they just smacked and plunged into her backside, causing her ass to move in waves with each hard smack.

She began to reach her end once more, the sheer force of his hips edging her closer and closer. She drooled into the kiss, moaning and trying to warn him of her approaching orgasm once more, her body now unable to keep up with the pleasure overload. When his hands tangled into her hair and began to tug, it was like a switch was flipped and her body caved in on her. Her walls began to close in on him again, just pulling him in as they pulsed.

He was so focused on maintaining his own mental fortitude that he didn’t consider her body giving in so quickly. He had pulled away from the kiss, now pushing her face down against the carpet while gripping her hair. When she came hard once again, he couldn’t hold back this time. He slammed himself in one good time before feeling a cord of tension snap.

“Ah-“ he moaned out harshly while a shock wave of pleasure coursed through his entire being.

He began to cum, the first wave being completely unavoidable before he forced his cock out of her soft hole. His seed spilled out of the tip of his cock and onto her cheeks. He rested his cock on the split of her backside, holding her hips with his hands and watching as it jerked and flinched while releasing onto her back.

Sweat beaded on her skin, mixing with his seed. It was a beautiful view and he soon found himself slowly starting to gain his composure. He soon blushed a deep red and nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck while apologizing, “Sorry…I came inside a bit…” he admitted.

YC was still coming down, somehow far more out of breath than him. Three orgasms is more than enough to where someone out, especially after they had essentially just been used as a hole. When the mental fog cleared, she was made aware of Bokuto’s guilty little pout. She could only giggle quietly before moving to turn onto her back, still in a state of euphoria. She could only pull him into a deep kiss, her tongue sliding back into his mouth to convey a very promiscuous message.

Bokuto’s eyes widened as he kissed her, surprised at how bold she had suddenly become. His member didn’t even have time to fully soften from satisfaction, he already craved more. It grazed against her folds once more, able to tell that it was dampened further by his release. His tongue fought for dominance with hers, his hands reaching down to grip her by her ass.

She roughly tugged and bit at his lip, bucking her hips up against his to beg for more. She was high off his touch, his rhythm, him in general. She had never experienced such chemistry, she wasn’t satisfied yet.

Bokuto was in the same boat, already sensitive to her will as it was. Nothing could have prepared him for how euphoric her body was. His hands went to work, no longer focused on love making but just eager to fuck her relentlessly. His control left him long ago and he pulled her legs up to hook at his hips. His grip on her ass turned into a rough slap, barely able to hold back the same force he used in his powerful cross court shots. That was going to leave a print on her complexion, no doubt about it.

The grip returned to her cheeks and he found himself shoving his cock back inside of her dripping hole, his face breaking away from the pleasure.

They both let out a passionate sound once more, YC now clawing into his back and pulling down.

Bokuto purred from pleasure, only able to gasp out, “God YC…I love you~” he pleaded before smacking his hips against hers with all his might

YC began to let out yelps of lust, her voice unable to be contained as he hit the back of her dripping cunt over and over and over. Her eyes began to drift up and her body collapsed under his touch.

Bokuto latched onto one of her breasts, sucking and biting at her nipples with each thrust. He loved marking up her body now that he was able to claim her in more ways than one. When he watched her face begin to blank out, he knew he had to finish her off on the best note possible.

Bokuto pushed her thighs up grasping the backs of her ankles and forcing his bodyweight forward. She was pressed up into a folded position while his cock plunged inside the deepest divot of her entrance. He was going to fill her in more ways than one. It was already crazy intense with the way her pussy dripped from the mix of their juices, but now there was nothing to stop him. He was going to breed her until they couldn’t move anymore.

YC hadn’t ever been taken to this level. The sting of his hand print on her ass cheek never went away. It only mixed and blended into the pleasure, making her just buck her hips into his more. Hearts were in her eyes as she continued to claw into his back and now tugging on her short hair. Her tongue tangled with his. Her body gave in to his, and in seconds, she was folded up, now taking every bit of his massive girth. She couldn’t even form words anymore, just desperate whines as her cunt quivered.

Bokuto was nearing his peak. The constant thrusting went on and in and on, being driven by excitement and lust. They had been at it for hours by this point and this final position was the grandiose final stretch. Her pussy was pulsing, signifying her getting close. His dick hadn’t stopped leaking since he slid it back into her. Now he was truly getting close.

YC began to cry out from pleasure, one final orgasm bringing her to become a complete mess. She released onto him, dampening the front of his groin while he continued to slap his hips into her.

Bokuto felt himself edging closer and before he knew it he started to cum hard, still thrusting with all his might and causing semen to pour out of her along with her own fluids. After several strong pumps, he couldn’t keep up. His legs went weak and the gave out on him, causing him to have to catch himself with his hands as he watched her lost gaze.

YC shivered, feeling his hot seed fill her up completely. As she slowly calmed down, she eventually looked directly into his gaze, her ears ringing and her body tingling from her head to her toes.

Bokuto pumped a few more times, letting the rest of his release leak into the overcrowded hole. He gently kissed her forehead before pulling away and watching his now softening cock slide out of her, completely drenched in their fluids and still dripping cum. He stared at her abused hole, loving how it dripped with his seed, watching it pour and drip out into a puddle on the floor.

YC eventually spoke up, slowly composing herself and looking up at him while she slowly sat up, “Bokuto…that was…amazing..” she admitted shyly.

The man chuckled, soon pulling her into his lap to kiss her forehead. “If you thought that was amazing, be prepared to have your mind blown a lot~” he kissed her cheeks, “Well…more than just your mind actually~”

YC blushed a bright red before smacking his now dewy chest playfully, “Way to ruin a moment..” she said shyly with a pout.

Bokuto smiled and nuzzled into her neck, “I can make it up to you…. I’ll scrub your back~” he cooed softly.

YC smiled, chuckling and teasing back, “Who said I would let you into the shower with me?~”

“Can I at least peak?” He asked playfully

And with that, the two had officially become a couple. Their chemistry and lust for each other was unmatched and they had many many many more wonderful nights like this ahead of them.

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu #bokuto x reader #bokuto x you #bokuto smut #hq smut #fanfic #friends to lovers

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