#//it turned out longer than i expected it to be!! sorry

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Touch Starved

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Summary: This was inspired by a tweet and his gif I saw on twitter. You accidentally walk in on Bucky touching himself when he thinks he is alone. Turns out he is thinking about you. A/N: Unbeta'ed, so sorry for the mistakes! Warnings: NSFW but not that explicit. Word count: 1,379 words

The team had made a last minute decision to go out, but you weren’t in the mood to join them. It has been quite a while since you’d had some time to yourself, and you happily retreated to your quarters with a bag full of late-night snacks in tow.

The thought of having the living area all to yourself was oddly comforting. There was something incredibly liberating about walking through the quiet corridors alone. After carefully stashing your snacks in the kitchen, you glanced around the hallway to ensure no one was around. Satisfied that the coast was clear, you stepped out of your room wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of fluffy socks.

The polished floors gleamed under the fluorescent lights and begged you to indulge in one of your guilty pleasures: dancing and sliding across the freshly waxed surface. You were mid-slide, grinning to yourself like the Cheshire cat, when an unexpected groan pierced the silence.

The sound startled you, nearly making you lose your balance as you skidded to a stop. You scanned the corridor, heart pounding in our ears, as you tried to pin point the source of the noise.

You were met with silence for a few moments. Just as you had convinced yourself that your imagination was getting the best of you, you heard it again. Only this time, it was unmistakable— it sounded like your name.

Your eyes caught a glimpse of a crack in one of the doors. Immediately, you knew that it was the source of the sound. Approaching slowly, you realized that it was Bucky’s room.

Shit! You thought back to earlier, replaying the moment you watched the others leave. Had Bucky gone with them? You didn’t remember seeing him head out. Could he still be here?

A soft, almost pained whimper reached your ears, followed again by your name.

Without hesitation, you pushed open the door, a growing sense of dread and concern rising inside you. Bucky often had nightmares— you’d heard his anguished cries echoing in the dead of night. You didn’t want to let him suffer for a minute longer than necessary— not if you could help it.

But as you silently pushed open the door, the sight before you stopped you in your tracks, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to the super soldier, sprawled out on the bed. He was shirtless. You could see the muscles in his abdomen rippling like waves as he writhed around on the mattress.

Another muffled groan escaped him and your eyes were drawn to the pillow he had clamped over his face. It would have been an alarming image, if it wasn’t for the fact that his pants were undone and his flesh hand was wrapped firmly around his cock.

You froze. Every single coherent thought vanished from your head in an instant. You stood in the doorway, mouth parted in silent shock as a flush of heat rushed to your face as your brain scrambled to process what you were seeing.

This is not what you had expected. At all.

Your instincts told you to turn around, to leave and grant him the privacy he so clearly thought he had. But for some reason, your feet refused to move. You stayed rooted to the spot as a cocktail of emotions swirled inside you— shock, embarrassment and lastly desire.

Only when he groaned your name again, the sound muffled by the pillow but clear enough to send a shiver down your spine and a flood of heat between your legs. Your heart raced as you realized that he wasn’t just lost in the moment— he was lost in the thought of you.

Your instincts finally kicked in, belatedly propelling you to turn on your heels and leave as quickly and quietly as possible. But your socks betrayed you, letting out a squeak against the polished floor.

Bucky’s movements stilled.

“Shit,” you heard him mutter under his breath, his voice low and filled with mortification. There was a rustle of sheets and before you could fully escape, his voice called out.

“Who’s there?” His words came out sharp and panicked.

You came to a halt outside his room, cursing your hesitation. You glanced around the corner just in time to see him sit up, clutching the tiny pillow against his lap, as though it could shield him from the situation he had found himself in. HIs face was flushed, his chest heaved and his wide blue eyes locked onto yours.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his voice cracking, overwhelmed by shame. He rubbed at the back of his neck with his vibranium hand. “I… I didn’t know anyone was—”

“I’m so sorry!” you blurted out. “I—I mean to, I shouldn’t have—” Words failed you, and you swiftly darted out into the hallway, hiding around the edge of the doorway.

But you didn’t go far.

Your heart was pounding loudly in your chest and for some reason, your legs felt like lead, stopping you from running away. You pressed your back against the wall, taking a shaky inhale to calm your thundering heart and trying to process what had just happened.

You needed to keep walking. You should be retreating to your room where you could pretend none of this ever happened. You should. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Something was pulling at your strings, master of puppetry controlling your actions, refusing to let you leave. It was desire. The way he had said your name— with so much longing— played in your mind on a loop. You hadn’t missed the way his body moved, the vulnerability he’d displayed on his flushed face. And then there was the way his eyes had widened with shock when he realized it was you.

Before you could truly think about your actions, your feet had started carrying you back to the door. You hesitated for a second but the pull inside you— the part of you that craved him— propelled you forwards.

You stepped back inside.

His face was crimson, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. Was it anger? Embarrassment? Or… something else entirely?

You couldn’t decipher the expression on his face but the tension in the room weighed down on both of you.

Wordlessly, you approached him, sitting down on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped slightly under your weight, and he immediately curled in on himself, clutching the pillow tighter to his chest. His body was angled away from you, his gaze fixed on the wall, refusing to meet yours.

You shuffled closer, moving carefully, unsure if he wanted you to stay or to leave. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak, he didn’t give you any indication that he was aware of your presence. But you could feel the tension radiating from him like a forcefield. His knuckles were white against the fabric of the pillow, and he sat so rigidly it was as if his body didn’t know how to relax anymore.

“Bucky,” you whispered softly, your voice filled with kindness and affection.

Still, he didn’t respond. He seemed paralyzed, trapped in this moment of shame and uncertainty.

Slowly, you reached out, unable to control the tremble of your hand as you cradled his cheek. He flinched at first, his body stiffening, but he didn’t pull away. You kept your touch gentle but deliberate, and when he didn’t resist, you applied the lightest pressure to turn his head toward you.

At long last, his eyes met yours— his pupils dilated, unfocused and vulnerable.

You held his gaze, letting the air between you grow heavy with meaning. Your thumb brushed fondly against the stubble on his jaw, and you leaned in slowly, deliberately, giving him every chance to pull away.

He didn’t.

When your lips first met his, they moved slowly, with tenderness, almost searching. You gave him the opportunity to object… he didn’t. And suddenly the heat building inside you made it impossible for you to hold back. You deepened the kiss— conveying your longing— leaving no room for doubt, no room for misinterpretation. You wanted him.

And as his lips began to respond to yours, the pillow slipped from his grasp, forgotten as he surrendered to the intensity of your connection.

[sir-heichou-smith]

Johnny thinks you and Ghost only want him for the sex.

He won't tell either of you he's ass over elbows for both his lieutenant and his girlfriend because he doesn't want to make a fool of himself.

No, he can't tell you because he's the idiot who fell in love with the two people he couldn't even dream of having.

No one else has ever made him feel so cared for or special before you two though, and it confuses the hell out of him to the point where he can't help but think he has to leave after every session.

He doesn't want to overstay his welcome, meanwhile you and ghost think he doesn't want to be with you and only wants the sex, which is fine (you'd really prefer that he stayed for aftercare since it is real important to you, you know how Simon could get and it's not easy coming back up on your own from how far he puts you under) but you know something is wrong when he stumbles out of bed and limps to the door after throwing his pants on, mumbling something about having to get going for some thing or another.

One night Simon and Johnny stumble through the door after a few drinks, their hands wandering and teeth clinking out of desperation while you trail after with a hand on each of them.

Clothes are thrown and kisses are traded all the way to the bedroom. You hear Simon utter praises in the Scot's ear, "such a good boy f'me Johnny. Gonna show the mrs how well you can take it for me? Let's give 'er a show."

He shudders in the larger man's embrace, and you think you see something flicker in those baby blues as he kneels to undo Simon's zipper with his teeth.

But you're tipsy like they are and you can only focus on it so much until Simon pulls you in and groans into your mouth, one of his big hands on the back of your head and the other tangled in the mowhawk bobbing up and down on his cock.

That morning you wake up quietly, before either men, and you take the moment to enjoy having both of them in your bed.

Johnny wakes up quiet too, thinking himself a goddamn idiot for giving in to staying the night when he tried so hard not to.

He does his best to untangle his limbs from Simon's meaty arms and your thick, supple thighs. It's so warm and comfortable and everything he's ever wanted and he doesn't ever want to go, but he has to. It doesn't belong to him, you're not his and neither is Simon and he's just in the way.

God he's so fucking stupid for this, all he's doing is making himself hurt more than what he has to. He just can't take what he's given and accept that he'll never have what his heart truly, unrightfully wants.

While you think nothing of it as he slithers down the bed, (assuming he needs the bathroom and he'll come right back into your embrace) Johnny is pulling on his clothes from the night before as quickly and quietly as he can, tears building up under his lash line and threatening to spill over his cheeks. His breaths come in short staccato so he holds it until he can't, breathing out slowly through his nose and in through his mouth.

He needs to leave, can't be here any longer because he's already overstayed his welcome.

Hes not supposed to feel this way, he's just a toy for you and Simon to enhance your guys' relationship. Your beautiful, loving relationship that he's stupid for wanting to get in the middle of because he'd never expect either of you to return his feelings.

He thinks he's in the clear when he looks back and notices Simon's heavy chest still breathing evenly, taking one last glance at his magnificence before turning around for good because he can't put himself through this anymore, he's not enough and he just needs to accept that now before he can never recover from the heartbreak.

"Johnny?" He's hears your low voice come from the cocoon of warmth he craves with ever fiber of his being. Your precious face looks confused and, dare he say it, a little hurt. "Where are you going?"

His heart shatters. "I-I... I'm heading out now. I didnae mean to stay so long. Sorry 'bout that, bon. Nothin' to wake the big guy over."

Before he gets his shirt on he hears you shift. "Johnny wait-"

"No. No, I cannae do this anymore okay?" His chest heaves with what feels like the weight of the world, and the tears start to fall.

"I know my place, and I keep forgetting it when you hold me so close and tell me I'm your good boy. When you kiss me and it feels like nothin else matters anymore. I never wanted to come between you and Si but I overstayed my welcome now and I need to leave so that I can-"

"What are you on about?" Simon blinks his eyes and rolls onto his back, a thick arm behind his head and the other stretched out across the empty space where Johnny just was.

Blue eyes shut and his pretty face scrunches up in pain, but he turns around before he thinks either of you can see. His shirt is hastily pulled over his head and he trips over himself pulling on a shoe from the night before.

He doesn't get to leave after throwing on the second one. A big paw of a hand circles his bicep almost completely.

"Don't think you're goin anywhere now, mate. What's this about?" Tired honey eyes look up in confusion and concern, their owner now sitting up and the thick comforter slides down to meet his naked hips. Baby blues can't help but trace the movement.

Your feet touch the cold floor as you get out of bed and circle around to the Scot. "Johnny when did we ever say we don't want you too?"

His head whips up in confusion and he looks between the two of you. "But.. But you-"

"Baby, take those clothes off and get back in bed." Simon pulls lightly on the arm in his grasp and Johnny can't help but follow.

"From now on it's non-negotiable, you stay here with us and get your aftercare in before you even think of leaving. Not that we ever wanted you to."

Big hands pull at the hem of his shirt and it goes without thinking. You stand behind him and wrap your arms around his naked torso to unfasten his jeans.

"Such a pretty boy, Johnny. You're our pretty boy and we want you just as much. Please dont leave us again." Your words bring tears to his eyes again, these ones accompanied by a bright perfect smile and a small huff of disbelief.

The three of you fall back into bed, smothering Johnny in all the kisses and words of love he never even fathomed could be true.

Limbs and tongues tangled alike, and the morning was spent mostly in bed, the Scot wedged tightly between you and Simon. As if he'd still possibly think of leaving now.

[satorushousewife]

souls of the forest - part 2.

or

dragon!satosugu x healer!reader - part 2.

part 1

warnings: blood, depiction of wounds, use of magic

it took a little longer than eight minutes to get back to your cabin since the black dragon, carrying his injured companion, was slowed by the burden. after about fifteen minutes of walking, you arrive, grateful for the double front doors that make entry easier.

you turn to the black dragon, sliding your bag off your shoulder. "could you wait here for just a moment? i need five minutes to set up some blankets and pillows for your friend." you speak gently, your voice steady despite your racing thoughts. he lets out a tired gruff in response, and you dash inside, leaving the doors open behind you.

inside, the living room is small but cozy, with a well-worn sofa, shelves lined with jars of herbs, and a small fireplace. without hesitation, you push the sofa to the side, clearing space in the center of the room. you pull out every blanket, pillow, and cushion you can find, arranging them into a makeshift nest. as you work, you glance out the door at the black dragon.

he’s standing, though barely, his injured leg trembling slightly despite the medicine you applied. he makes his best efforts to keep up despite his tiredness. his gaze is fixed on your movements, and as he watches you move around there’s a flicker of something in his violet eyes—confusion, maybe? realization dawns on him as he observes your efforts. a nest? how does she know? the thought unsettles him. was this an intentional gesture to make them comfortable, or a calculated move to gain their trust?

his instincts scream not to trust you. humans are dangerous, filthy creatures. his kind has suffered enough at their hands. even your magic—mild and unthreatening as it seems—does little to reassure him. a dragon could never trust a human. still, his exhaustion is undeniable, and the protective field around your home gives him a sliver of hope.

minutes later, you return to the door, gesturing for him to come inside. "sorry, this is all i have for now," you say, motioning to the nest. "i’ll get more blankets the next time i go to the village."

the black dragon hesitates before stepping inside, his claws clicking softly against the wooden floor. carefully, he lowers the white dragon onto the nest. his movements are deliberate, as if even now, he’s shielding his companion from harm. the moment his burden is laid down, the black dragon collapses to the side with a thud.

you let out a loud gasp, rushing to his side and kneeling down. he looks troubled— he was not expecting to give out. he makes a restless sound and you feel your heart clutch. "please, don’t worry. rest. i’ll clean both of you up and take care of your wounds." you kneel beside him, speaking softly. "this is a safe zone. no one will sense your magic here. i won’t let them find you." your voice carries a quiet conviction as you reassure him, and for a moment, his violet eyes meet yours. there’s defiance there, but also desperation.

he lets out a low grunt, unable to muster more. he would die before trusting a human, you would not fool him. yet as his eyes flutter shut, a single thought crosses his mind: please, let her be one of the good ones. let her save him.

after all, what else could he wish for? you were their only hope.

𖥸

after the black dragon—whom you’ve mentally nicknamed fangs for his tendency to bare them—falls unconscious, you get to work immediately. you place two healing flowers, one beside each dragon, and murmur an enchantment. the flowers glow softly, releasing waves of magic to stimulate their natural healing processes over time.

you start with the white dragon. cleaning his wounds takes time—there are so many slashes across his body that you marvel at his resilience. you finally decide on a nickname for him while treating a cut on his upper eyelid. as you catch a glimpse of his blue eyes, his features remind you of the jack frost tale. frost, you think. that fits.

suturing frost’s wounds takes patience and precision. his injuries are severe, but you pour all your focus into the task. next, you turn to fangs. his leg wound is nasty and requires immobilization. after cleaning and dressing it, you carefully fashion a splint to ensure proper healing.

once the physical injuries are treated, you prepare to use magic to accelerate the healing process. you could heal both at the same time, but focusing on one would ensure he healed faster and better, so you would focus on frost first as his injuries are far worse. you draw an ancient rune on his skin, channeling your energy into the symbol. closing your eyes, you place your hands over the deep gash in his abdomen and begin to chant:

"vusa ur levhuvetur, vusa e tus, dosa tama dutu kua u levhuve." (remove the wounds, remove the pain, remove all that hurts.)

you repeat the chant ten times, feeling the energy flow through you and out of your palms. when you finally open your eyes to see your progress, your heart sinks.

nothing. absolutely nothing happened.

the wound remains unchanged—deep and raw. your hands tremble as you inspect it further. though the minor cuts have started to heal, the main injury resists your magic. that spell was in your family for years, it was used to treat the worst diseases... frustration wells up, but you push it down. there has to be a way.

switching to fangs, you observe that even with only the flower, he already made progress by healing himself. you apply a potion to his wound to stimulate his self-healing even more. as you cast the same spell, you feel his magic respond, intertwining with yours. it’s subtle but effective—his condition visibly improves, and relief washes over you. he’ll wake up soon, you think, but frost… frost is still in danger.

the thing is, magic healing is a delicate art. very tricky, one might say.

a healer witch uses their own energy and magic to heal others, the more severe the wound, the greater the toll. everyone had different amounts of energy, but only a small part of humans could conjure magic and an even tinier part could canalize it to healing. your family’s spells have been passed down for generations, yet even they have limits.

dragons were beings with a vast reserves of energy. they were made of and for magic. having access to a dragon's core meant casting infinite spells of any type. they were once hunted for their cores, coveted by humans for limitless power. the thought disgusts you.

yet, you could not stop wondering: what has hurt them so bad to stop their own healing? to drain them of their magic?

after some hours of work, you’re surrounded by open books, their pages strewn across the floor. exhaustion weighs heavily on you, but you refuse to stop. you flip through every text on dragons, searching for anything you might have overlooked.

you realise it's already dark outside only because you start having difficulty to read some words, the room lit only by the faint glow of the healing flowers. as your stomach claims for attention, you realize you haven’t eaten all day. as you get up to get some candles, you grab a green apple from the kitchen and soon return to your work.

you were tired, but you would not stop. you couldn't, not yet.

you push yourself, reading everything over and over again, trying to find the missing piece. determination keeps you going, but your body begins to falter. your vision blurs, and your hands shake as you try another spell. you barely notice when your body gives in. one moment you’re chanting, and the next, you’re lying on a blanket beside frost. sleep claims you before you can fight it, your last thought a silent promise:

i won’t let him die.

end notes: i updated it rather quickly because i've had most of it written already! updates should be a little slower from now on. hope you guys are enjoying it. and if you read until here, a little spoiler: suguru will wake up first. something is keeping frost in his slumber state. i wonder what is it? mwehehehe

taglist: @moncher-ire , @jinjen , @frozenmallows , @shuzoku , @aqua5ky , @katthekat1234 , @jinjen , @kneelarmhstrung , @yoyohereforthefun

♡⃕ xoxo mikki

[myjjongie]

✶ THE TASTE OF MINT ── l. heeseung

IN WHICH: you have a big collection of lip balms, but never expected heeseung to make a mission out of it. the mission in question? finding which lip balm he likes the most on you.

PAIRING: bf!heeseung x gf!fem reader GENRE/WARNINGS: lower case intended !!, established relationship, kissing, they make out lowkey, fluff, skinship WORD COUNT: 1.3k ₊⊹♡ EVIE'S NOTE: we are gonna ignore the fact that two of my recent oneshots are both kissing related. they are MAJOR coincidences LMAO. also where are all my mint lip balm enjoyers at ????

heeseung always thought it was absurd that you had an abundant amount of lip balms stashed away in your bathroom drawer. not to mention heeseung found the growing collection to be pointless.

the idea of collecting something that you only needed one of didn’t make sense to him. he always thought that but never said anything since truthfully he found the growing collection adorable. despite his opinion on it, he enjoyed your smile more than he disliked your minor hobby.

that small dislike faded when he kissed your lips one day. what heeseung found astonished him. there was the unexpected burst of flavor from your lips. he remembered the taste of the flavor being pineapple. almost as if he was drinking a pina colada. since that day heeseung made a secret mission out of every kiss he took. hoping one specific kiss would lead him to his favorite lip balm on you.

unbeknownst to heeseung, today would be that day.

per usual you were getting ready for an outing with heeseung. you stood in front of the bathroom sink finishing off your hair. all that was left was applying lip balm. you opened the infamous drawer, as heeseung would call it at times. rummaging around you frowned at some of the ones you picked out. you picked out vanilla, it was a classic flavor but you weren’t in the mood for it. rummaging around again you found a cotton candy flavor, then honey, then a strange assortment of fruit flavors. with a sigh you ran your fingers through your hair. frustration soon building at the overwhelming options.

“are you ready yet babe?” your head turned at heeseung’s voice. an even deeper sigh left your lips at your boyfriend waiting patiently for you in the other room.

“yeah almost give me 5 more minutes!” you shouted out to him.

“this is ridiculous… all these lip balms yet i can’t pick out a single one i want to wear…” you cursed out under your breath at the new time crunch.

soon you went back to digging in the drawer. hoping to find one you’d actually wear. once hitting the bottom you did a little more moving around and grabbed a random lip balm not even bothering to look. hopefully the random pick would surprise you enough to wear it. pulling your hand out from the stash of tubes you open your hand to read the label. it was a mint flavored lip balm.

before your collection grew out of control, mint was always your go to. the feeling of the soothing chill on your lips felt good everytime you applied it. that memory alone made you excited to put it on.

“no way i forgot about this.” your voice was mixed with a bit of surprise and shock. you couldn’t believe you forgot about your original favorite flavor.

without anything else to think about, you applied the lip balm. there it was, that nice chill feeling that danced along your lips. finally feeling satisfied with your choice you closed the lip balm. settling the tube down on the counter, you got ready to walk away from the mirror. turning around you were startled by a figure. a scream escaped your lips as you realized the figure was heeseung. his silent approach startled you more than you anticipated.

“heeseung you scared me!”

“sorry. i just came over to check on you. you took longer than 5 minutes sweetie.” heeseung’s voice sounded worried as he focused on your startled form.

placing your hand on your chest you eased yourself from the sudden scare.

“it’s okay hee. im ready though so we can leave now.” you let off a smile to your boyfriend to help ease him. you could see a growing worried look stitched into his brows.

before stepping outside of the bathroom heeseung stopped you. his hand gently grazing your cheek. instinctively melting into his touch you couldn’t help but look up at him. your eyes studied his face, the worried look now dissipated. you realized as well his gaze wasn’t meeting yours. it was fixed a bit lower. you already had an idea of where his eyes were staring so longingly, it was at your lips.

as much as heeseung tried hiding it. you figured out what he was doing. noticing every time you applied lip balm he was magically there ready to give you a kiss. it didn’t take long to piece heeseung’s actions together. all those short kisses was him trying to find a lip balm he enjoyed on you. you never disclosed the new found information to heeseung. since watching him make a mission out of it was too cute. you then remembered it had been a while since you wore a mint flavor. so this one could interest him or maybe it wouldn’t at all.

heeseung couldn’t help taking his thumb to gently rub it across your bottom lip. he smirked slightly at the all familiar feeling of the slight waxy consistency, which now stuck to his thumb.

“you know your lips look extra nice right now. out of all the brands you use i don’t think i’ve seen you use this one yet?” heeseung was still focused on your lips barely paying attention to you answer him.

“oh i found a lip balm i haven’t used in a while. what do you think?”

“it looks really good.” heeseung responded absentmindedly leaning down to give you a quick kiss. his thumb now resting beneath your chin gently tilting your face up.

right away heeseung felt that cooling sensation that coated your lips the moment you put the lip balm on. he found enjoyment in the feeling, the way the flavor left off a refreshing taste to his lips. after a few seconds he parted away from the kiss. his thumb still tucked beneath your chin. you noticed the way he stood there. you asked yourself if he was wondering what the flavor was. it was a hard one to place since mint was a random flavor on its own.

“mint.” heeseung murmured underneath his breath. then once again his lips were met with yours. his lips grazed against yours gently but more earnestly. this time the kiss felt more heated, more intimate as if he wanted to take you whole.

a soft whimper escaped from you as heeseung’s teeth grazed your bottom lip. the feeling sent shivers down your spine. the sudden urgency from him caught you off guard. your hands placed onto his chest softly tapping at him to break away wanting to catch your breath. unfortunately to your dismay heeseung’s hand now snaked to the back of your neck keeping you steady. the new hold helped him kiss you deeper and more desperately. despite the itching feeling to catch your breath. you couldn't help but melt into the kiss. his lips moving about with need making your knees weaken. the soft sounds of your kissing echoed within the bathroom. your fingers felt like they were on fire from how tight you held onto his shoulders for support.

the kiss to heeseung was the same as any other kiss you both had. he didn’t understand why he felt so needy for your lips this time around. maybe it was the chilling effect of the mint that made the taste of your lips feel intoxicating to him. heeseung wasn’t able to put a finger on it, but he knew he wasn’t gonna stop anytime soon.

after what felt like forever, heeseung finally pulled back from your lips. though his hand still lingered on your neck, the smirk on his face deepened as he took in your dazed expression. looking into the reflection behind you, he couldn’t help but notice how your flushed face was mirroring his own.

heeseung smirked softly, his hand finding its way back to your chin. “yeah mint is definitely my favorite.”

without further hesitation he leaned in for another kiss.

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©myjjongie 2025

[ledesaid]

Billy body-swaps #4

╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║

Excellent news.

He survived the Doomsday attack.

Even better news! Flash is officially engaged!

But, today is the day to talk to Batman.

Wrapped in the blankets how a maki in the abandoned subway car, the little boy from Fawcett waits impatiently.

Today is the day. He repeats.

When the clock strikes midnight, he will jump again.

Tick. Tock...

Not much longer...

Tick. Tock...

The dripping from some pipe makes time run slower.

Not much longer...

Batman promised that he could... train... with him...

├───────────┴┴────────────┐

Does anyone know how to drive a car? Because Billy doesn't.

How is he supposed to stop the car when it's going so fast?!

Billy: Stooop!

A loud sound of the brakes throws him practically over the steering wheel. He's still alive, he can swear he might have a bruised rib.

But he's still alive and the car stopped!

Billy: Um... open?

This time the car didn't obey. His grimace of disgust faded as he looked at the cars’s dashboard, filled with buttons of all sizes. He guessed one of them would open the hatch.

Before pressing a large button, he quickly patted his face.

Who was it this time?

"Holy molly! I'm Batman!"

...: Sir? Are you alright? The car sent an alert.

Billy: Yes, yes, everything's fine... thank God the car stopped, it would have been a problem if we crashed out there.

Agent A: By any chance, might you be young Master Marvel?

Billy: Hello Agent A, it looks like I came back to Gotham City.

Agent A: I see, Master Marvel. I shall set the Batmobile to autopilot and escort you back to the Batcave.

Billy: That would be great, I wouldn't want someone to steal its tires for parking it where it shouldn't be.

Agent A: You would be surprised if I told you how that story concluded, sir. Absolutely riveting, it was!

Billy waited patiently while the car resumed the route, but didn't hesitate to play with his communicator. Maybe a little greeting to the League....

Billy: Hello, I'm Batman. Gotham City needs reinforcements. I'm taking the night off.

Billy thought: "Wow, I'm so responsible... Batman would be proud of me."

He can swear someone gasped on the other side of the call.

Superman: Looks like it was Batman's turn today. Do you need help with anything else, Marvel?

Billy: No, I'm just going to check what's inside each compartment of my utility belt, or maybe figure out how to open it first!

Superman: We'll send reinforcements, Marvel, and happy birthday!

Billy: Great, thanks a lot, Mr. Superman! That was two weeks ago, but I appreciate it!

Billy cut the call before another comment slipped through, and indeed, Alfred was in the cave as expected… with a tray of cookies!

Billy: Thank you very much, Agent A! Can you believe that Superman wished me a happy birthday?! Can I have a recording?

Alfred: No problem young master Marvel.

Billy: I can swear I won't be able to eat other cookies without comparing them to yours! Each chip is bigger than a marble!

Alfred: It's a long-standing family recipe that my mother passed down to me. I make sure they always come out perfect.

Billy lost count of how many cookies he ate.

Robin: No way... you're really not him?

Billy: Oh! Hi Robin! Sorry about last time. I didn't want to get caught so quickly.

Robin: Don't worry, it's no problem, I'm in one piece and Batman didn't punish me! everything went well Marvel!

Alfred: Would you like to keep our guest company while I fetch something from the kitchen?

Robin: Sure, is there anything you want to do tonight?

Billy: Can you teach me how to open the compartments of the belt?

Robin: How about we prepare your own belt instead?

Billy: Really?! Can I have my own utility belt?!

Robin: Sure, we have twelve hours, right?

Billy: Can I have a grappling gun too?!

Robin: Sure, the armory has full.

Billy: And can we go out on patrol? I've always wanted to stop a criminal with the terrifying voice! I saw the Bat-Signal in the sky as I was coming. Can we? Can we go?, please, Robin?

Billy clasped his hands and got down on his knees.

Robin: Just let me take a picture and I'll see what I can do about it.

-------

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | U are here | Part 5

[carnallysm]

I want you with me.

Dom! JJ x Sub! Fem! Reader.

themes: praise kink, mirror sex, strap-on use (r! receiving), a bit of rough sex. lmk if i forgot anything!

summary: Jennifer arrives at home clearly shaken by something, some case at hand, and you'd do anything that could help her clear her mind.

no proofread we die like Gideon.

You could tell alone by how thunderous the door was closed that your girlfriend had a bad case in her hands. And you knew better than to ask.

Jennifer would tell you about it at the right time—right when she needs to, not when she still has so much in mind—therefore, the only idea that showed in your mind was to go and be as comforting as possible to JJ.

"Hi," You spoke softly, a direct contrast to how the air seemed thick around JJ, clearly upset about something. Then again, there wasn't anything much you could do with the lack of information you had, and you were quite sure Jennifer wasn't about to be the most open one.

It was a problem of hers, really, how more often than not she wouldn't let herself be, be vulnerable and open and truthful. You thought JJ needed more of that, to trust more, but it was a tough path.

"I need to go in thirty," She replied with an obviously exhausted sigh, all the while she went to your shared bedroom to grab what she needed for her go bag.

"To another state?" You questioned, without reprimand in your tone, but mere curiosity to know when you could expect your girlfriend to come back.

"No, this one..." Jennifer stopped for a couple of seconds, in which silence had fell in once again thick with unspoken words on her part. "This one is here. I just will be staying with the team."

A small crack in JJ's voice you were able to hear when she finished her sentence, and then you could tell something was undoubtedly wrong.

"What's with the case?" You asked with prudence, sounding still as soft as before, yet with concern in your tone.

However, despite how worried you were, JJ stayed silent for longer than just a few seconds. Without a word, she started gathering some clothes from the closet, not even sending you a look that could apport something to you. Her expression was as neutral as it possibly could be, and you were no profiler to tell her micro expressions.

"JJ?" You called for her name in a barely audible whisper, only able to be heard thanks to the otherwise silent house. As you said her name, you took some steps forward to her.

"I don't want to talk about it," Was her response—firm, unwavering—and still, you could sense the fear lingering underneath. "Please." Her last word was spoken with a pleading, cracking voice yet again.

"Okay..." You agreed, because of course you did. You didn't want to make JJ suffer by speaking about something she wasn't ready for, but that didn't meant you were ready to let go of the subject fully. It scared you, whenever Jennifer herself was scared, and specially if the reason was unknown to you.

"I'm sorry." Jennifer suddenly speaks, leaving all her clothes sparred inside her go to bag. "It's just... It's too much."

How weak JJ sounded was worrying, if you were to be honest. But what mattered to you the most in the moment was to help your girlfriend in whichever way you could.

So, you approached JJ and reached to cup her face, making her look directly at you. There was fear written all over her features, and all you wanted to do was to take it away.

"It's fine." Was your simple response, but enough to make your point come across: I understand you, I don't judge you, I'm here for you. Everything you wanted to tell JJ was in the way you tenderly caressed her cheek with your thumb, with how you leaned to plant a chaste kiss to her lips.

But what was a soft kiss, soon turned into one full of need on JJ's part. Her hands landed on your waist, holding and pressing you against her with all her strength, so that it almost hurt, as she kissed you with pure, untamed need.

Her tongue darted out to lick your lower lip, before Jennifer grabbed said lip of yours between her teeth, biting down on it with just enough force to draw a hint of blood from it. The taste of the kiss turned slightly metallic and bloody, and suddenly you felt yourself spinning around and falling to the comfortable texture of the king sized bed.

You kissed JJ back, even with confusion revolting in the back of your mind. The fact that something was happening in JJ's work that she didn't want to talk about was inevitably concerning, but you did your best to wash it aside as the kiss grew more fervent.

JJ's hands went from your waist to underneath your shirt in a question of instants once you were laying in bed, her on top of you.

"JJ, what—" Before you could finish your sentence, Jennifer bit down your lip another time, eliciting a shaky whimper from you and a tiny drop of blood to flow down your chin.

"Please," Pleading, once again, though this time with all need, fear and want heard on JJ's tone. "Let me have you before I go."

And you couldn't say no, not to Jennifer. Despite the strange of the situation, you wanted her just as bad, each and every time. That's exactly why you let yourself forget, at least while JJ touch is on you, about her fear and your own, and simply feel.

The kiss had long turned messy and sloppy, the faint taste of blood still there, as JJ's hands found your breasts from above your bra, circling your already hard nipples through it.

"I love you," JJ said right after breaking the kiss, then licking and biting down the skin of your neck—not roughly enough to hurt, but enough to draw a few more whimpers from you. "God, I love you so much."

All you could say in return was a shaky moan of her name, reaching your hands up to wrap around JJ's neck and pull her closer to you.

Her words were laced in raw neediness, and you couldn't hide just how much that affected you, your panties starting to get slightly wet due to your pussy dripping for JJ alone.

"I want you with me," Jennifer stated before leaning back in to give your neck another, harder bite. "Always." And again, all you could do was try to catch your breath as her name instinctively escaped your lips in a louder moan.

JJ's hands went from your breasts to your hips and back, pulling you up so you were sitting in bed now. Before you could express your confusion, she spoke.

"Look up, darling." And so you did, as you'd do almost anything JJ asked of you. There, you found the mirror of the room reflecting the scene at hand, with Jennifer behind you and holding you up.

"I want you to keep looking at the mirror." She ordered rather than requested, and a deeper tint of red soon covered your cheeks at that, as you nodded either way.

"No, darling, I want words." JJ affirmed while displaying a quite harsh slap to your clothed and soaked pussy. "C'mon, don't make me wait."

"S-Sorry," You managed to speak between ragged breathing, doing your best to not get too lost in the embarrassment of the reflection or the pleasure of JJ's touch. "I'll keep looking."

"That's it, good girl." JJ praised before planting a small kiss to your reddened cheeks, her right hand wandering down slowly until reaching your pants, quickly undoing them and pulling them down alongside your drenched panties.

"Is this all for me?" JJ questioned while pushing two fingers through your slick folds, gathering your wetness with them as she then circled your puffy clit with torturous slowness.

Unable to speak due to the sensations coursing through your entire body, you didn't even realize you closed your eyes, desperately trying to hold onto something.

But before you could, one more slap was provided to your sensitive cunt, harder than the first one, which made you open your eyes in pain and pleasure at the same time.

"I said, use your words." JJ said firmly, this time moving her fingers to circle your clit more vigorously.

"I-Is all for you!" You exclaimed shakily, your words somewhat slurred as the pleasure took over you in a matter of seconds. "Just you, JJ!"

"Good," You heard her words directly spoken to your ear from behind, as she pinched your clit before coming to your entrance, putting them in at a leisurely pace. "Remember, you must look at the mirror. Else I'll stop."

"Y-Yes," As you said so, you lifted your own gaze to stay looking at the mirror, the sight of it making you further aroused and ashamed all at once.

Jennifer was behind you, her left hand still holding your hips so hard it might leave a bruise, while her other hand disappeared between your legs, pumping two of her fingers in and out of your cunt. You looked disheveled, and so did JJ, although less than you did.

It was the sight of Jennifer loving you, her toned arms showing as she kept her touch on you, her praises when you did as she told you—everything just added to your pleasure.

"That's my good girl," JJ praised again, her breath hitting your ear from the very moment she speaks, making you shiver in her arms. "You're doing so well, darling."

You thought you could cum from those words alone, and you weren't far from it, as JJ added a third finger inside your welcoming pussy.

"I'm... I'm gonna cum, JJ," You warned, closing your eyes tightly from the immense satisfaction you were experimenting, once again forgetting JJ's order.

Suddenly, her fingers came to a stop inside you, and you heard an exaggerated sigh coming from Jennifer's lips.

"What did I tell you, love?" As Jennifer spoke, she slowly moved her fingers out of your needy pussy, making a whine come from you. "Uh-uh, you don't get to complain."

JJ reached now both her hands to your hips, as she pulled you down to lay back on the bed again.

"Now, stay with your eyes closed," Jennifer commanded once more, and you immediately obeyed, only able to hear the shuffling of JJ moving in bed towards the drawers of the night side table. "You can at least do that, right? For me."

After what seemed like an eternity, you felt JJ's warm touch on you again; her hands going to wrap around your thighs, pulling them up as you gasped, your breath still as ragged as it was before.

JJ put your legs around her waist, and you instantly felt the silicone texture of what could only be the strap-on JJ liked to use on you so bad.

"Be a good girl and take it all in," And yet again, before you could say anything, Jennifer implanted the strap right into your oversensitive cunt. "Then you can cum."

She was rapid to set a quick speed to her thrusts, pulling in and out of you with ease due to how wet you were, every inch of the strap hitting all the right velvety spots inside you. The sound of skin slapping against skin was lewd, and with your eyes closed, the sensation was magnified.

At JJ's speed, you were fast to feel that familiar coil settling in your abdomen, and you knew you were way too close to be able to warn JJ.

As Jennifer kept her punishing thrusting inside you, a guttural moan left from your lips as you came, but JJ didn't stop. Instead, she started to go to an even more swift pace than before, pushing the strap to the hilt into your responsive pussy.

"JJ!" You were only able to moan her name, lost in the pleasure she was offering you, her grip on your thighs tightening as you heard her breathing becoming shallow as well.

"One more, love," JJ spoke in between panting. "You're doing so well, taking me so well."

Her praise was enough to send you over the edge for the second time, a crushing orgasm taking over you as you held onto the sheets with all your strength, your eyes closed tightly as you got completely and utterly lost in haze.

After what felt like hours but were mere minutes, your breathing started to get steadier, a last, soft whimper escaping from your lips once JJ pulled the strap out of you and herself, leaving it away somewhere in the bed.

"You did the best, darling," She praised while reaching her hand up to caress your cheek, then moving to hold you in her arms.

You stayed like that for a couple of minutes, silence taking over, but this time it was a comfortable one as Jennifer gently caressed your hair while her other hand wrapped around your waist.

"Was I too rough?" She suddenly asked, looking down at you with a hint of concern and fear back in her expression.

"No, not at all." You were quick to reassure her, shaking your head slightly for a moment, nuzzling closer to JJ's touch.

"They..." JJ began, but trailed off for a bit before swallowing down and taking in a deep breath. "They all look like you. The victims."

And now that Jennifer finally opened up, you finally understood why she appeared so fearful when coming home, why her attitude was the way it was.

"But they're not me." You reassured, leaning to press a comforting kiss to JJ's lips.

"You promise to stay safe until I come back?"

"I promise."

[peachy-panic]

Shared Sessions: Week 1, Part 2

< PREVIOUS

WARNINGS: Past captivity, therapy setting, attempted suicide reference, difficulty talking about feelings, discussions of insomnia and nightmares

The longer the silence drew out, the more Elijah feared that it would be mistaken for his own unwillingness. He had little investment in Dr. Collins’s opinion of him, but the last thing he wanted was for Grayson to think Elijah didn’t take this chance at reconciliation seriously. He did. 

He did. 

But…

“It’s hard to know where to start,” Grayson finished the thought out loud. “I mean, what do you…? How do you…?

Elijah cut his eyes to him and saw his slumped posture, the way he hugged one knee to his chest. Most of the time he had spent with Grayson in his life had been in various states of distress. If there was one thing about his body language that Elijah knew well, it was what Grayson looked like when he was upset. It was a double-edged sword, to know that he shared in Elijah’s discomfort now.

“I think that’s more than understandable,” Dr. Collins assured them, making sure to include Elijah in the path of his smile. “What you both went through was no small event. It altered the course of your lives in a very real way. It can be difficult to put something so significant into words. Sometimes, the best we can do is to attack it in pieces. There is no expectation to unpack months worth of trauma in a single session.”

The words were meant to be disarming, he could tell, but it ruffled some defensive part of Elijah. The way this man spoke of their ‘trauma’ as if he took on cases like theirs every day. As if he had even a clue just how difficult it was to put this into words. 

Grayson, however, seemed to find comfort in the platitudes. He nodded in Elijah’s periphery. “Okay,” he said, and he sounded so earnestly relieved that Elijah could do nothing but agree with a nod of his own. 

And then they were silent again. 

At least Dr. Collins had the good grace not to look frustrated. He was, Elijah supposed, getting paid either way.

“As I understand it,” Dr. Collins tried again, “the two of you haven’t been in touch much since returning to The States—not until these past few weeks, is that right?”

So, that was his idea of easy beginnings. A sucker punch to the mass of guilt that lived in Elijah’s stomach. The starting point of their reunion. The midnight phone call that had brought Grayson Dawning barrelling back into his life. 

(As if he had ever really left).

“That’s correct,” Grayson said when it was clear that Elijah wasn’t going to (or able to) respond. 

Elijah was holding his breath, but Dr. Collins took a left turn, redirecting them toward safer territory.

“What if you started by catching each other up on what your lives have looked like since coming home,” he suggested. “We can establish ourselves in the present instead of diving straight into the past. What has the adjustment period been like for you?

It was an open question, directed at both of them, but Elijah’s mind was screaming at him to speak. Say something. Don’t make him carry this whole thing on his shoulders alone. 

“Well,” Grayson said first, rubbing his palms over his pants. “I guess we all know how well I coped.” 

There was a heavy beat of silence. Elijah turned to look at Grayson. There was a wry tug at the corner of Grayson’s mouth, but it flattened quickly. 

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, turning away from Elijah. “I know I shouldn’t make light of it.”

Finally, Elijah managed to dislodge his voice, clearing his throat before addressing Grayson directly. 

“Sometimes it’s easier to talk about it like that,” he offered quietly. “Like it’s a story we’re telling about someone else. It’s not funny, but it’s… Yeah. I get it.”

The look of relief on Grayson’s face almost hurt to look at.

“I think, maybe, that was too broad a question on my part,” Dr. Collins apologized. “Four months of recovery is a lot of ground to cover in a single answer. Maybe we start with something more specific?”

So, they did. 

They began with the first day home. 

For Elijah, that first day had blurred into the next several. In his shaky memory he had been asleep for the vast majority of the whole first week. His body hadn’t been able to get enough of it. He would wake up from a sixteen hour nap exhausted and barely last long enough to eat a few bites his mom prepared for him before he was crawling back to bed. 

Grayson, as it turned out, had experienced nearly the exact opposite. After a single night of a full, twelve-hour sleep in his own bed, he’d suffered through extreme bouts of insomnia for the next several weeks. A couple of times, he’d gone over 48 hours without so much as dozing, until his parents had finally persuaded (forced) him to take sleeping pills. 

That was when the nightmares had gotten bad. On this point, at least, the two of them could relate. 

They didn’t get into the specifics of what the nightmares were about, though it seemed for a moment that Dr. Collins was going to nudge them down that path. Instead, they tentatively moved onto the topic of school. 

Elijah learned that Grayson had decided to take a semester off college—and possibly the full year—in the wake of his incident. He knew, from the various conversations they’d shared in their cell in desperate search for normalcy, that Grayson was already halfway through his degree. School seemed to have been something he cared about—or, at least, something he cared about succeeding in. 

Elijah had already planned to take his own sophomore year off, even before the… before. He had just come off of a lackluster first attempt at community college, feeling directionless, unmotivated, and just as lonely as he had been in high school. He didn’t know what he’d wanted to do with his life, and he didn’t feel comfortable racking up a ton of student debt on a degree that wasn’t going anywhere. 

And after? There was no chance he could handle school in the state he was in now. He tried to explain that out loud, and was horrified to hear how pathetic it sounded inside the small room.

“In the compound,” Grayson spoke up hesitantly. “When we were… you talked a little bit about that. You said you thought about trying to apply to a state school if… when… we came home.”

“I guess it was a little easier to lie to myself then,” Elijah replied. “Maybe I was always convinced we wouldn’t be getting out of there, so I could say whatever I wanted about a future that wouldn’t exist.”

There was, understandably, another pause after that. Elijah began to think that the main benefit to Dr. Collins’s presence in these sessions was to help the two of them recover from the uncomfortable pits of silence they kept falling into.

Dr. Collins asked if Elijah was working currently. Grayson had given him a somewhat startled look, as if it hadn’t even occurred to him that someone could consider balancing a job on top of the full time task of staying afloat in the aftermath of what happened.

Elijah always knew Grayson came from privilege. He didn’t always think that Grayson himself knew just how well-off he was, and Elijah supposed that made sense when you grew up knowing nothing different. So that was a little bit of an uncomfortable bridge to cross, but Elijah admitted to not being able to bring himself to work again since returning home. 

He didn’t quite dive into the guilt he felt about not being able to pull his weight with the household finances, as he had previously done since turning fifteen. But he thought that maybe the sentiment came through anyway. 

As the session went on, Elijah could admit to feeling a little proud of himself for keeping his shit together. On the surface, anyway. His voice was almost steady as he answered questions, but his internal panic was another story. Because he knew his time was running out. 

Dr. Collins was feeding them softballs to break the ice, but Elijah knew the real reason they were there went much deeper than “catching up” on the last few months. Each time there was a pause in conversion, Elijah felt his whole body tense, bracing for impact. Now would be the moment. Now, Dr. Collins would cut the pleasantries, look Elijah in the eye, and say, Why don’t we talk about the time you tried to run while Grayson was still locked in the basement cellar?

What happened after that? 

No, let me rephrase: What happened because of that?

Why don’t we talk about what you did that made Grayson hate himself so much that he would try to take his own life?

Elijah jumped out of his skin at the sudden soft chime of music. He blinked back into the moment to see Dr. Collins reach for a small alarm clock on his desk. He tapped a button and the music stopped.

“That’s our five minute warning,” he explained. 

Elijah’s eyes snapped to the clock on the wall. He had to do a double take. How could a full hour really have passed already? They hadn’t even scratched the surface. 

Anytime the conversation veered too close to the topic of those fifty-eight days of shared captivity, one or both of them clammed up, and Dr. Collins led them gently back into safer territory. How their families were doing, if they had any success with certain coping mechanisms that they felt like sharing, what their daily routines looked like since returning home.

And that… was it?

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He didn’t realize he had until Dr. Collins met him with a small smile. 

“For today, yes. I think,” Dr. Collins said, “that today was an excellent starting point for some very productive conversations. Would the two of you like to continue this talk next week? I left the time slot open, just in case.”

Grayson looked at Elijah at the same time Elijah looked at him. It was one of the few moments of eye contact they’d held the whole session. 

There was something like hope there.

“I think it could be good?” Grayson phrased it like a question, tossing the ball transparently into Elijah’s court to make the final decision. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I think so, too.”

****

In the waiting room, Grayson’s mother stood to greet him as soon as they came out. Elijah shrank back, trying to stay out of her direct line of sight. He left the two of them to their quiet reunion and tried to slip out the front door of the office without fanfare. 

Except he didn’t quite make it. 

“Elijah, wait.” It was Grayson’s voice that made him pause, turning back. There was an uncertainty in Grayson’s expression that made Elijah nervous. “Sorry, I just… you mentioned you took the bus in?”

Elijah dropped his gaze somewhere in the direction of Grayson’s shoulder, avoiding whatever judgment—real or imagined—might be in his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said. And then, feeling the need to defend his position, added, “The stop is just down the road. So, you know, it’s fine.”

“Can we…?” Grayson glanced at his mother, but didn’t wait for her input before asking, “Would you let us drop you off at home instead?”

Elijah felt his cheeks heat and resented it. There was nothing shameful about using public transportation—even in a city like theirs. “Don’t you live in the opposite direction?” he asked.

“Yeah, but it’s not like it’s that far,” Grayson insisted, which was factually untrue. “We don’t mind, right Mom?”

Elijah didn’t need to look at Mrs. Dawning to feel the cool judgment behind her polite facade. “Of course not,” she said anyway. 

Trust that Midwest to overshadow any feelings of resentment. 

Elijah didn’t know how to argue. He was too emotionally raw to push back against the unexpected onslaught, and frankly, remembering that it was nearing rush hour and that the busses would be shoulder-to-shoulder with commuters for the hour-long ride weakened his defenses. 

That was how he found himself in the backseat of the Dawnings’ black Escalade, clenching and unclenching his fists in his lap as they drew nearer to his side of town.

Having lived there his whole life, Elijah was never consciously aware of the surroundings he saw everyday: the auto shop with broken down cars parked half-off the sidewalk, the empty strip mall that hadn’t been able to host a store for more than a few months at a time, the houses with plywood boards over the windows. 

Now, he was forced to look at his neighborhood through the Dawnings’ eyes, and it was like finding wriggling bacteria under a microscope. 

“You can let me out here,” Elijah said, a bit too hastily, as they approached the arch over the entry to his trailer park. 

“Here?” Mrs. Dawning said, not quite hiding the judgment in her tone (or was it his imagination? He never knew for sure).

“Are you sure?” Grayson asked. “We can drop you at your… um, unit.”

“It’s okay,” Elijah said quickly. “I can walk.” Without giving them time to insist (again), he reached for his door handle and swung it open before the car had even rolled to a stop. “Thank you for the ride,” he muttered as he climbed out.

Before he could close the door behind him, Grayson leaned back and caught his eye. “Hey,” he said, and Elijah found himself momentarily frozen under his soft gaze. “Thank you for coming today.”

Elijah couldn’t quite find the right words to respond, so he had to settle for a stiff nod and hope that Grayson read his sincerity. 

“See you next week?” Grayson asked. 

Elijah swallowed. “Yeah. See you then.”

***

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[damn-stark]

Junho and reader break in the squid game island? Both are cops or something plsss😭❤️

Together, we can take it to the end of the line

Hwang Jun-ho x fem!reader

A/N- I hope you all like it :)

Warning- ANGST!! FLUFF!! Weapons, blood, and talks of death! Spoilers for the show!

Pairing- Hwang Jun-ho x fem!reader

Episode- 2x05 - 2x08

——

Day 1:

You- Jun-ho, where are you?

No response to the text you sent and two phone calls were declined.

Day 2:

You- Are you okay? Let me know or tell me if you don’t want to talk…

Yet again, no response to the morning text. When you get to work you expect him to be there, but he doesn’t come. Not for lunch and not toward the end of the shift.

“Detective!” Someone tries to catch your attention and you have half the mind to pretend you don’t hear and leave for the day since you assume what’s coming, but it would be disrespectful and would only worsen the matter.

“Chief,” you redirect nonchalantly and turn on your heels to see him walk up to you and search around you before his gaze finds yours.

“Where’s Hwang?” He asks the dreaded question, making you stiffen and internally groan before you respond dryly.

“I don’t know, Sir.”

The man’s eyebrows immediately furrow before he quips. “What do you mean you don’t know? He’s your boyfriend, you’re supposed to know.”

You fist your hands and shrug stiffly before you retort in the same nonchalance. “Well, I don’t know. Sorry.”

The captain looks at you up and down with a hint of judgment and amusement and you can imagine—no you know he must think Jun-ho must be doing something malicious behind your back and you’re oblivious, but he doesn’t know Jun-ho like you do, he wouldn’t cheat on you…right?

He wouldn’t keep secrets, would he?

Then again do you even have the right to be upset even if he does have secrets considering the ones you keep from him?

The answer to that is an immediate no, but finding out he's seeing someone else behind your back is different, and…he…wouldn’t do that, would he?

You return home and text him again.

You- At least let me know if you’re not going to work.

Jun-ho is usually a quick texter, he never leaves you on received for too long when he’s out of work, and if he is busy doing something else he lets you know, but this time he hasn’t. He doesn’t call nor does he pick up when you try to call him once before bed, so rather than falling asleep and hoping to get an answer from him in the morning, you’re left on your bed staring at the ceiling and overthinking.

Every thought is worse than the other and with every bad thought you crack more and more until you can’t take it a moment longer and finally break. You do the one thing you said you wouldn’t do and…check his location. That’s when you find out that he’s not even close to the city or abroad just like you imagined, he’s on an Island…

Shit.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

The Island was much harder to navigate to than you thought, but finally, after sailing for far longer than you’re comfortable with on nothing but the endless sea and its creepy deep, and dark waters, you make it to the Island. However, instead of driving right through the entrance and boldly announcing your presence, you sail to a more obscure part of the Island.

Did you count on having so many rocks surrounding the Island? No, but you do find an opening that seems to fit your boat.

Yet rather than sailing right through, you stop the motor right by the opening and intend to dive in the water to swim through the opening to avoid having someone hear your boat, but when you walk to the edge of the boat and look at the water, you remember how deep and vast it is.

There’s a possibility that you could just sink, and if you sink, you drown and die. The sea is so vast. It’s so terrifying. How are people not scared of it? You were so focused on getting to the Island that you were able to not think about your fear of the sea, but now you’re stopped in place, looking through the surface, seeing the dark depths of the open water, and feel like starting the motor and sailing all the way back to the mainland where you’ll be safe, but…Jun-ho is here and he doesn’t answer your texts or your calls. If he’s not dead yet, he might need your help, so you draw out a few deep breaths and take a moment to convince yourself to push your fear aside before you dive into the water.

When you’re in the water you start to breathe heavily and feel your heart race, but you shove that fear to the depths of your mind for now and start swimming so the worst doesn’t happen. However, the opening leads to a long corridor dimly lit by lamps on the walls, so the shadows turn to menacing threats that threaten to trap you and drag you down the depths of the sea.

That is until you finally find firm ground on a dock occupied by other small boats. “Finally,” you say between pants as you climb on a far corner of the dock, and then sit on your knees to drop your head in your hands and catch your breath so you can calm your racing heart and be wary of what you have to do in this place. You’d be no use to yourself or Jun-ho if you’re still shaken up by the dark waters.

After you manage to collect yourself, you only prioritize one goal. You don’t think about the fact that you’ll have to retrace your steps over the water and sail back to the mainland. You make Jun-ho your priority and become intensely determined.

However, if only finding Jun-ho could be as simple as walking through a door and finding him. You have your phone and you could still track his phone, but when you take your phone out of the plastic bag you kept it safe in, you fail to get service which results in you not being able to track Jun-ho anymore. And it’s not like you have wi-fi either so you’re left with no choice but to be careful and search this vast place as if with your eyes closed.

Thankfully, you don’t run into anyone when you exit the docks, you’re just greeted by yet another long hall lit by more lamps strung up on the stone walls. Spread down the hall there’s different turns that lead elsewhere, potential places that could lead to Jun-ho. Which one do you take?

Shit. Shit. Shit…

You look at all your options and debate for a while. When you make a strategic choice you take a step forward, but, at that moment, the sound of a gunshot echoes, and you know it would be a crazy risk checking if it’s who you’re looking for, but if you don’t risk it and check, then you could possibly lose the chance of finding him and you’d be left searching and searching for someone who might not be on the Island on anymore, besides, you’ll just take a quick peek. That won’t hurt…hopefully…then again even if it did hurt, it would be worth it for him. Thus, you quickly navigate through the labyrinth that is this cave until you reach a door you assume leads to where the gunshot came from.

After you make sure no one else is approaching, you then make sure not to be loud when you open the door, nor do you throw it open. You open the door just wide enough so you can peek out through a gap with one eye.

Alas, you’re met with a grey stone wall, so you push the door open just wide enough so you sneak through. When you make it to the end of the wall, you press yourself against the stone and peek out, that’s when you find him, the man you’re looking for in a pink jumpsuit, standing over a gap of illuminated water. No one else seems to be around him, so you slowly walk out.

Jun-ho doesn’t notice you right away so you call out to him. “Jun-ho.”

Said man spins around swiftly and the first thing he does is point the gun at you.

You don’t move in response or say anything. You stay where you are and let him see you. You let him figure out on his own that yes, it is you. You’re intertwined in the shadows of the cave. You’re not a trick his mind played on him, it’s you in the flesh looking at him like he’s salvation itself.

“Jun-ho,” you muse and he responds by muttering your name before he takes a few steps forward and stops.

You stay under the shadows of the room and study him carefully to make sure he’s unharmed, to reassure yourself that he’s there, before your very eyes, and breathing.

He's alive, and you’re relieved, but how long will he remain yours if you stay here?

Thus you bring an end to the moment and stride over to him to grab his wrist right away. “Come on, we have to go. I saw armed pink people guarding an entrance. We have to leave before we’re caught.”

He remains silent, but he doesn’t budge, he lets his wrist slip from your grasp, making you turn swiftly to look at him with panic. “Jun-ho, we have to leave.”

Said man blinks as he gathers his thoughts before he finally interjects with something other than your name. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

You walk back to him. “My phone,” you breathe out and hold his gaze, noticing how intensely he studies you with concern and confusion—“I tracked your phone here after you disappeared. I thought you were,” you pause and drop your head to let out a deep breath before you share the worries that plagued your mind when he was gone. “…With someone else so I checked your location.”

He scoffs and you look back at him.

“That’s when I saw you were here and—”

“And you came to catch me?” He continues for you with amusement breaking through his conflict and playing on his lips. “That’s…very much like you. I wouldn’t have gotten away with it even if I did try.”

You scoff now and he drops his head to let out a chuckle before he faces you with a serious face. “But I wouldn’t have done it. You know that.”

You avert your gaze out of shame and shrug. “Well I was being ignored so I thought the worst, but now aren’t you glad I’m here? Whatever this place is?” You quip and glance at the body floating in bloody water before meeting his dark eyes and returning to your panicked state.“Now we have to leave. I have a boat just outside. We have to swim to it, but we’ll make it.”

You grab his hand, but once again he refuses to move.

“No. I can’t. I have to find my brother and this place has the answers,” he explains, making you look at him with disbelief.

“Your brother?” You probe, making him nod.

“That’s not all, this place is manipulating people by dangling money in front of their faces only to kill them in different games.”

Your lips part and you gasp in horror at his revelation.

“I have to get evidence to stop it as well as find my brother…or…at least what may have happened to him because…I think he’s here or…he was. I’m not sure but I have to know.”

You shake your head. You know that he loves his brother and misses him dearly. He’s been searching for him and any answers as to what led him to disappear, but you can’t put your lives at risk for an answer. Not when you have a way out without getting killed.

“I’m sorry Jun-ho, but now that you told me what you know, we can’t put our lives at more risk!” You argue with panic. “We have to go.”

“And throw away the chance at finding my brother?” He snaps, making you blink repeatedly in disbelief before you counter with little patience.

“And didn’t you hear me? I saw armed guards. How long until they find us?! We have an opening and we have to take it.”

He steps back and shakes his head. “No, go if you want now that you know I’m okay, or stay and help me now that you’re here, but I’m not leaving. Not without answers.”

You challenge his gaze and nod stiffly in comprehension. “Is that how it’s going to be? After I risked my life coming after you?” You remark and he lifts his chin slightly in defense.

“I already told you what this all means to me. As grateful as I am that you came even if it was for your own jealous reasons, I won’t throw away my chances at finding answers.”

You let out a deep sigh and turn away to compose yourself before you lose all your patience.

“I know how hard this must have been with your fear of the sea,” he adds in a softer tone. “But you know what my brother means to me. And these people…it’s horrible. Everything about this place is horrible. I can’t leave without evidence to use to bring it down.”

You swallow thickly and then clench your jaw as you let out a deep breath through your nose.

“We might not have this chance to leave again,” you point out.

Jun-ho walks around you to face you with concern. “Don't stay if you don’t want to, go while you have the chance.”

You slowly meet his gaze with a look that softens the moment you meet his eyes. “And leave you all alone to get all the credit?” You murmur, making him scoff with a faint grin tugging on the corner of his lips.

“Plus I’m deep in it now. Whose going watch your back if not me?” You tease, making him finally laugh breathlessly before he looks into your eyes and drops his grin to step closer and cup your cheek with a smile filled with admiration.

“Thank you for coming after me even if you didn’t know what you were going to face,” he says softly.

You cup his hand and take your turn to look at him with awe that's also mixed with worry.

“Come, just above those ladders is a room that can give me the answers I’m looking for,” he shares and then steps away to point at the ladders at the far end of the room with his eyes.

Now you do hesitate while he leads the way, but you also can’t leave without him so you follow him to the ladders and climb them all the way to the top until you reach a hatch blocking your path.

“Do you have something to pick the lock?” He asks as he peers back at you.

“No,” you immediately let him down. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he says and then reaches into his pocket to pull out a revolver—“it’s going to be loud. Be ready.”

You hum and watch him shoot the hatch to pop open the lock.

“What is it?” You ask since you can’t see what Jun-ho can as he slowly opens the hatch door.

“The hatch opens to a cabinet. We’re inside the leader's room. I don’t think anyone’s here,” he shares, but even if there was someone the gunshot would have been a dead give away and you would have been caught, so luckily there isn’t anyone nearby.

“Let me check first and then you can climb up,” he lets you know over his shoulder before he climbs up one step to push open the cabinet doors and then climb into the room.

Once he's inside he does as he says and checks the room first, when he knows the ghost is clear, you hear his footsteps return before he pops over, letting you see him again. “Come on.” He waves you over, letting you climb up the rest of the ladder to get into the bland and depressing room yourself.

“Did you bring a gun?” Jun-ho asks and you look at him like he’s told you a joke before you remark.

“What do you think? No. I thought you were here hooking up with someone else, why would I bring a gun?”

He huffs. “I was just asking. Stick behind me then. Don’t wander off.”

You roll your eyes. “Wouldn’t dare to.”

He points his head to a door that looks exactly the same as the other doors in the depressing room, only, this door leads to a small room with a desk and a simple full-size bed. Thankfully, you don’t run into anyone, but the moment that you do walk in the room a siren begins to wail which could mean a variety of things, but you fear it might be about you and Jun-ho.

“We need to hurry,” you warn him, but he doesn’t stop being careless to hurry. He checks every corner with his gun, when he’s assured that the room is clear he opens a different door and immediately points his gun at the hall just like you were trained to. When a threat doesn’t pop out to become an inconvenience, he walks inside and you follow after him into the dark and menacing hall that leads to yet another dark room. Yet this one, unlike the others, isn't dimly lit, it’s covered in darkness and stays that way until Jun-ho’s small flashlight illuminates what he's looking at.

“What exactly are you looking for?” You ask just above a whisper just in case anyone is nearby to hear you.

“Just anything that can lead to my brother, In-ho,” he says over his shoulder and then watches every step you take as you make your way to his side now.

“Did you bring your phone?” He asks as he comes to a stop and turns to point the flashlight on you.

“Yeah,” you grumble and shield your eyes before you look down to pull your phone out and use your flashlight. “That’s the only thing I can use down here though. I have no service,” you complain and lift your eyes, making him lower the flashlight from your eyes.

“Me neither, but we don't have to worry about that until later. For now, let’s hurry and look for an answer.”

You nod in comprehension and intend to walk down the room to begin searching the shelves at the end of the room and let him cover the entrance, but he lingers where he is to look at you with emotions you can’t identify. “What?” You probe with concern.

He blinks out of his stupor and lets out a deep breath before he mutters, “be careful.”

You snicker. “I’ll yell if I need help.”

The corner of his lips twitch up before he holds your gaze for a second longer and then lets you both break away to cover different parts of the room.

“There’s so many records,” you point out as you run your flashlight over multiple different book spines that are mostly all pretty thick.

“Let’s find…this year's first,” he says in response. “And then switch from there.”

You keep running your light over the books as you walk across the shelf until you spot a binder that’s labeled with this year. “Jun-ho,” you call out and pull out the thick binder.

Your boyfriend doesn’t hesitate for a second before he strides to where you are and looks at what you found.

“It’s a binder for this year,” you share before you crouch to put the binder down. Jun-ho mirrors you, letting you open the binder and come across a profile of a player they call 001, but since that’s not his brother he finds no interest in it so you flip from page to page, making sure to look at every name printed by each picture in the corner.

“Who are these people?” You ask and steal a glance at him with a narrowed gaze that holds the hints of a darkness within—“They have the people’s medical records,” you add, noting his impatience and worry and feeling your heart ache at that.

“I don’t know.” He shakes his head.

You let the page go and look back, pointing your flashlight at the shelves behind you containing more stuff that could be useful. “I’ll check over here, you keep flipping through this.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just nods, letting you slip away to rummage through different shelves in hopes of finding something useful, but it’s all pointless. That is until a black box with a pink bow catches your eye.

It could be another pointless search, or it can hold an answer or a hint, so you pull the shelf out to grab the box and open it, finding a list of names next to different years.

Yet for the first few rows, all the names mean nothing until you reach the year 2015 and catch the name of Jun-ho’s brother, Hwang In-ho.

“Jun-ho!” You whisper shout and turn hastily to fall on your knees beside him and quickly hand him the list. When he sees what you point out his eyes widen and he then snaps his head up before he sloppily shoves himself to his feet and runs over to a shelf down the room.

You carefully follow him and catch him holding a binder of the year that his brother's name was listed next to. This time though he’s not so slow when he’s flipping through the pages, he takes a lot of pages to reach the number his brother was and there, as marked, is his brother's profile.

“In-ho,” he whispers and you study the page before you drift your eyes to watch Jun-ho instead.

“At least we know he won this…place,” you try to bring him some comfort. “We can leave now.”

Jun-ho looks through the gaps left between the shelf and the books and deadpans, “no,” before he leaves you there in that aisle and returns to where he left the list of names.

“What do you mean no?” You remark and peek out of the aisle, catching him pull out his phone. “You have your answers and we can probably still leave without getting caught.”

Jun-ho’s phone clicks and as you approach him from behind you see him take a picture of the list of players and then his brother's profile, but he doesn’t stop there, he darts around the room and grabs different folders and a couple of cassettes.

“What are you doing?” You query as you remain towering over him, basking his crouched figure in your shadow as he takes more pictures.

“We need more evidence,” he mutters as if it isn’t obvious. “I don’t have enough. After we get more we can leave.”

You scoff and turn your head away out of frustration, contemplating just forcing him out of here. It’d be a struggle but it would be worth it to get him out of here alive.

You also contemplate other choices, but ultimately you go along with what he wants because leaving him behind is not an option.

“Fine, but—” before you can finish talking suddenly a phone rings, cutting you off and making you freeze in place. Jun-ho on the other hand abandons what he was doing and slowly sneaks out of the room, leaving you no other choice but to follow him back to the main room and toward the land phone.

You know he wouldn’t be stupid enough to answer it, but it seems like he debates whether to do it or not as he just stares at the ringing phone. You almost have to ask if he would dare to do something so reckless, but then a ding breaks through the sound of the ringing phone, causing your heart to jolt before you snap your head from side to side to find a room to sneak into.

As it seems like you found your escape as if connected to your thoughts, Jun-ho rushes to you as quietly as possible to grab your hand and yank you with him to the same room you thought of escaping to. When you’re inside he does the unnecessary after he presses himself on the wall by the door; he proceeds to press you against his chest with his hand over your mouth. Then again, even with his gun in hand, you find comfort in the feeling of his heart racing against your back and his warm body pressed against you the most as the stressful moment unfolds.

“<Front Man speaking,” you hear a deep and obviously disguised voice answer the phone in English rather than Korean. “Yes. A minor disturbance has taken place. But it’s been addressed. No need to worry. We will make sure that no trace of it remains by the time the VIPs arrive>.”

Your heart skips a beat and you grip onto Jun-ho’s arm as you understand what the Front Man is saying.

“<Yes, sir,” the Front Man continues. “The game will begin on time, in line with the schedule>,” he finishes before you hear them hang up the phone and leave right away.

You expect him to come back, so you wait, but once you both know that there’s no one in the room anymore, Jun-ho lets you go and leads the way out, making sure that the ghost is really clear before he lets you follow him to the phone.

“Maybe we can finally reach the police with this phone,” you suggest, and a hopeful glint glimmers in his eyes.

“Yeah, good idea,” he praises you before he reaches over and grabs the phone to dial the number.

Yet…his effort is fruitless because he tries and gets no ring. He tries a different number but also gets nothing, ending with him sighing in defeat and returning the phone to its place.

“Damn,” you hiss and watch him with the same unaffected look that doesn’t carry any hint of true horror or deep concern. You are worried, but more so for his own safety, and the little fear you do hold is for the same reason. Anyone else would be horrified and constantly looking over their shoulder, but you don’t hold the weight of those emotions. You hold almost a knowing look as if this place is not actually strange. A darkness.

“We should, uh, go back to the record room to put the things back and then see where to go from there,” you share your idea as you raise your hand to cup his shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze before you return to the record room.

“You understood what the Front Man said right?” He asks once you're both in the record room since he knows you’re fluent in English too.

“Yeah, did you?”

He hums. “We have to stay until the VIPs arrive,” he shares the inevitable plan you already expected. “We have to know who they are.”

“Or at least try,” you argue to try and remind him to stay grounded and not get carried away with answers he might not get. “If this place is as horrible as you say, I doubt that they would show their faces. And without photos of their faces, we’d risk our lives for nothing.”

“They might not show their faces, that's right, but we have to try something to get answers. Even if it means being bolder in the attempt.”

You put the papers back in their respective folders and then as you get up to put the folders away, he gets up to return the binders to their shelf, leaving no room to add anything on the matter. Thus a silence befalls the dimly lit room that would make it feel alone if it hadn’t been for the soft shuffling noise he’s making.

“Jun-ho,” you call out as you don’t hear anyone coming, leaving you a perfect moment to speak up.

“Hm?”

You push the folders back in place and let your fingers linger on the back before you begin to walk away. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here?”

“Because I didn’t really plan on coming. I was looking into more clues on my brother's disappearance and found a connection with a player here at the same time so I followed him in hopes to find answers,” he explains nonchalantly, but that still doesn’t assure you of anything.

“Okay, so that explains why you were gone for an entire day before you disappeared, but…why not let me know?” You ask as you come to a stop at the end of the aisle. “I could have helped you, or even just kept you company. Or I could have just known where you were.”

Jun-ho’s footsteps start to depart from the aisle he is at and stop in the middle of the room, making you slowly walk away from the aisle but remain in the cover of darkness as you turn your flashlight off.

“I’m capable too, you know?” You remind him.

“I know,” he says back without a moment of hesitation, letting you know that he believes in what he said.

“I graduated in the same class as you at the academy. I have the same training, and I’m even a decorated detective,” you press with a slight quiver.

“I know,” he insists, but even if those words escape his mouth, you remain lost as to why he chose not to tell you a thing.

“Then?” You remark and at last step into his light where he finally sees your vulnerability in your eyes brimming with tears and your face contorted with frustration.

Vulnerability is something you don’t often show. When he met you you were cold; was it because you were in a male-populated career? Or was it the way you were raised? He didn’t know but it took you a while to even be his friend.

“I,” he says and pauses, luring you closer to him to meet eye to eye and not have the darkness be in the way—“I didn’t want to put your life at risk,” he reveals, making you blink in surprise.

“I didn’t know what I was getting into,” he adds, making your face soften and your breath hitch. “And I didn’t want to risk your life for something that could have turned out to be pointless. I don’t like to see you get hurt and if something had happened to you, or if something happens to you because of me, I…don’t think I could ever in my life forgive myself.”

Your face contorts with disbelief while in your stomach you feel a fluttering sensation as all the butterflies dance with utter awe at the sound of his confession.

“I…love you,” he reveals three words that hurt your chest, but also bring a deep bliss that makes it easy to get drunk off of.

“I’m happy you said it,” you redirect as you grab his arm. “Because I love you too, Jun-ho. I have not had many people in my life, but now I have you. And you’re someone I cherish and love beyond measure.”

His lips form into a smile as he proceeds to cup your cheek. Now you don’t have the luxury of time or of being careless, so you lean in for a short but passionate kiss that you linger in to savor the taste of his lips. A little taste of pure bliss and love in a sinister place.

“So,” you interject when you pull away. “What now?”

Jun-ho sighs. “With the Front Man gone, they’ll be busy with a game, so we wait until the VIP’s come. That’s all we can do. We can’t disguise ourselves as the Pink guards, they would have already seen the body in the water, so they’ll be even more suspicious now.”

You sigh deeply and step back. “Well…I can wait. I suppose. What other choice do we have?” You groan before you remember what else you have to put away and walk back to where you had gathered everything to grab the black box and hand it to Jun-ho.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t find more on your brother,” you share your pity. “But is it enough for now?”

Jun-ho looks at the box containing the fact that his brother was one of the previous winners and hesitates before he nods softly.

“Good,” you say for his own benefit and then give him a peck on the cheek while he walks over to put the box away.

“You should get some rest. It’s going to take a while,” he offers, but you turn and quickly protest.

“No. I’m not tired. You should rest. How long has it been since you’ve slept? I can keep watch.”

Jun-ho turns without pushing into the shelf and walks back to you. “I’ve slept enough. You came all this way. You must be tired. It’s okay, I don’t mind keeping watch.”

You put your hands on your hips and shake your head. “No, we take turns then. You sleep the first half and I’ll do the second. This is me putting my foot down.”

Jun-ho scoffs and drops his head as he admits defeat. “Fine, come on then let’s stay in the aisle with the lights off.”

You giggle and make your way to an aisle. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you are trying to seduce me.”

He lets out a chuckle and you can’t help but smile at the small yet heartwarming gesture. “You don’t know better.”

As you take a seat on the floor the last thing he sees is you beaming at him before he turns the light off and takes a seat next to you.

“I can sing you a lullaby,” you tease him as you lean toward him.

“Pft,” he snorts and then he can’t help but laugh. “I’m not your dog.”

You giggle. “Aww, he enjoys them though. He looks forward to it.”

“It’s weird,” he mumbles as he takes something out of his pocket and then presses the cold object on your lap, letting you identify what it is—“for just in case.”

You place your hand on the gun to feel its cold surface before you place it beside you. “Well, hopefully, you won’t sleep through any trouble. I won’t be able to carry you out.”

He huffs. “I’ll be right here if anything does happen.”

You smile softly and then press your lips on the top of his head and let your lips linger there as he lets his body relax and his head fall on your shoulder.

Silence follows to accompany you after that and his snores don’t fill it because you know he’s not in a deep sleep, and how can anyone be comfortable enough to find deep sleep in this place? So you’re sitting in the silence, keeping an ear open for any potential danger while also wondering if you still want to keep this deeply buried secret still buried. Especially after Jun-ho said he loved you.

You trust Jun-ho, and he’s already here, but can you really confess such a deep-kept secret and put his life at even more risk? For so long you have tried to distance yourself from the secret. You turned your back on it and pretended it didn’t exist until you found out that the man you love was here putting his life at risk, so it begs the question, should you tell him and…risk losing him?

If you tell him will he turn his back on you and make your nightmare a reality? He told you he loved you so he deserves to not be lied to about something so significant, but…can you really be so selfless?

You don’t know, and you can’t figure out the answer to the question when he wakes up, so you shelve it and close your eyes.

It is hard to find sleep, but eventually, it comes to you and you drift off. It’s not a long sleep, you’re rudely woken up by the sound of the phone ringing again, but the sleep was enough to recharge some of that energy you had lost, which, that in itself is important.

“Get behind me,” Jun-ho demands as he grabs your arm and helps you up without actually letting you try on your own. He then proceeds to pull you behind him so he can point his gun through the bookshelf's gaps.

The phone rings again and in the short silence the elevator dings before another ring echoes and footsteps click on the ground. The phone rings two more times before there’s finally an answer in English. “<Front Man speaking,” you understand the monotone voice say before he pauses for a brief second and then continues again. “I’m happy to hear you enjoy the game. Yes, the host is currently waiting for the VIP’s to arrive.>”

A silence proceeds to fall and a couple of seconds later the sound of clicking shoes recedes, almost relieving you of the stress tightening your chest. Albeit before either Jun-ho or you can feel relief, the monotone voice booms in Korean.

“Are you in here right now?” He directs in Korean to either you or Jun-ho. You assume it’s Jun-ho, but you aren’t certain. “You’re good, but you made one mistake. I always put the receiver down the other way.”

Jun-ho peers over his shoulder to look at you with a shameful look, causing you to pass him a look of reassurance before you press your hands on his back for comfort.

“The bullet you shot was a Smith and Wesson M60 revolver, standard issue for Korean police. What’s a cop doing here…without a partner?”

You curl your fingers, grabbing the pink material of Jun-ho’s pink suit.

“Or so you want us to believe? We saw a boat arrive with a woman in it…” He pauses

Your breath hitches as your heart skips a beat.

“Your partner? I’ll tell you what?” He adds. “We’ll play a game. I’ll let her wander around to try and find you. If I catch her you can watch her die.”

Jun-ho’s breath shudders and his gloves crinkle as he tightens his grip around his gun.

“If you find her, you can come out and ask me questions. I am sure you have many,” he adds and then pauses as he finally sounds above you, making you hold Jun-ho tighter.

“I don’t know how you got in, but you can't leave this place without my permission,” the Front Man continues and gets closer, opening the door that leads to the record room and marching down. When he opens the final door that welcomes him in the same room, he’s quick to turn on the light, causing you to place your hand over your mouth and clench your jaw as your nerves rise sky high.

You wish for him to leave with every step he takes, but he walks past you. He then turns around and only gets closer to spotting you, and even if Jun-ho raises his gun higher, what would stop the Front Man from finding you?

The Front Man is the overseer for a reason, a defenseless woman and one man with one gun won’t scare him.

Nevertheless, as if by divine intervention the radio beeps, stopping the Front Man in his tracks before he can turn your way.

“We found a body,” a man comes through the radio.

“Where is it?”

“The Northern coast of the Island,” the other man responds, making the Front Man put his radio away and whisk off, leaving you and your boyfriend to remain hidden. Yet it’s only after a few minutes pass that you let go of your boyfriend, letting him move from his spot to face you without turning on his flashlight as if fearing the Front Man would appear if he did.

“We need to find somewhere else to hide. We won’t get lucky here again,” he says between heavy breaths.

You nod stiffly and slowly lower your head, letting him know you’re bothered. “What?” He probes.

“We don’t have much time left,” you point out as if he doesn’t know that fact clearly—“Whatever you have planned you need to do it now,” you press and face him with a pointed gaze.

“I know,” he mutters and puts his gun away before he sighs and averts his gaze, letting you know he’s holding something back.

“What?”

He unclenches his jaw and slowly meets your gaze through the darkness. “I’m going alone, and I’m not listening to any protest. You heard him. If he finds you…” he pauses and lets out a shaky breath, making you grab his hands to try and assure him that there’s nothing to worry about.

“He won’t. Especially not when I’m with you.”

Jun-ho pulls his hands away from your hold and grows firm. “No, I won’t put your life at any more risk because of me.”

“Jun—”

“I said no,” he cuts you off roughly. “You’ll stay in the cabinet until I’m done.”

You raise your chin and challenge him just as fiercely, but he doesn’t budge, ending in his victory.

“Fine,” you grumble and push yourself to your given height to storm off. Before you can reach the door you turn on your heels and bump into his chest. “But if you don’t make it back two hours after you leave I’ll go find you.”

He clenches his jaw and huffs but compromises for your own sake. “Fine.”

You hum with contentment before you turn again and leave the record room to now hide with Jun-ho in the cabinet and wait again, finding yourself lulling to sleep in that wait.

However, this time you just close your eyes because a light burning sensation on part of your face wakes you up, and when you try to follow where the sensation starts from, you catch Jun-ho with his dark eyes set on you.

He sees that you catch him staring, but he doesn’t look away, making you smile giddly.

Before you can comment on the matter though, the elevator dings and a pair of footsteps walks out before the presence lingers until he sets off as another ding rings out and multiple footsteps now echo, making the monotone voice speak.

“<Greetings,” the Front Man speaks in English. “I hope your long trip here has not been too difficult. I am the Front Man, who operates and oversees all matters here. It’s a true honor to welcome you>.”

“<Where is the host?>” A guest speaks and you now imagine that the VIP’s are here.

“<Unfortunately, some urgent business has prevented him from attending.>” The Front Man gives an excuse that triggers more questions.

“<Seriously?>” Someone else asks. “<I find it hard to believe the host would miss a night like tonight.>”

“<He asked me to apologize on his behalf,” The Front Man offers the guests.

“<Did some problem happen here?>” A man with a deep gravelly voice and accent asks.

“<Not at all. It’s just a personal matter of the host.>”

You clench your jaw and your gaze hardens. A detail Jun-ho misses as he’s attentive to the Front Man going on.

“<The remaining games will be held as scheduled.” He breathes out and then goes on. “I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.>”

“<Well, I hope not,” a different man interjects in a different accent you can pinpoint. “Listen, I’m willing to give anybody some slack. That’s not a problem.” He chuckles. “I just have to say that I’m a difficult man to please. I hope you won’t disappoint me.>”

Oh, brother.

“<Shall we?>” The Front Man says, leaving the comment as is and bringing his guests toward the cabinet you’re hiding in, but ultimately passing you to go through a hidden door and leave elsewhere. Thankfully.

After a few minutes Jun-ho shifts to open the cabinet and climb out. You quickly follow after him to grab his hand and turn him around toward you so you can smash your lips on his. And since he didn’t expect the kiss he’s caught off guard, but he doesn’t slack, he grabs your jaw and pulls you closer, tempting to open the gates to your burning desire, but since you’re in such a dangerous environment the desire doesn’t burst open those gates, so even if you’re hesitant you’re able to pull back without trouble.

“Be careful,” you whisper against his lips.

He lifts his head to press a kiss on your forehead and let his lips linger on the sweat-covered surface. “I will. Promise. You be careful too.”

“Three hours.”

Jun-ho chuckles, making you feel chills as his breath washes over your flesh. “You’ve given me more time? I’m surprised.”

You smile softly. “I trust you, but I’m still looking out for you….until the end of the line partner.”

He smiles sweetly against your forehead. “Until then,” he whispers before he cups your jaw and presses another kiss on your forehead, and then leaves you waiting with your heart in your stomach in a place that makes you feel as if you’re stranded in the middle of the ocean with nothing but endless dark waters to taunt you.

——

*LATER*

It’s starting to feel stuffy in the cabinet and you can feel your hunger creeping in as you’re not plagued by a thousand other thoughts. Moreover, the time you gave Jun-ho is starting to come to an end, but you forbid yourself from overthinking. He’s smart. He’ll make it back. He will…

You lean your head back to rest it against the side as you wait and wait until you hear the sound of doors sliding open and footsteps that make a hasty and hard beat.

You don’t shift an inch so as to not alert the wrong person of your presence, even if it means you can’t see who it is.

You have to sit with your breath held until the person reaches the cabinet and crouches down to open the doors, revealing themselves to be your boyfriend Jun-ho.

“Jun-ho,” you breathe out with relief.

“I’m back,” he reassures you quickly before he waves you to him. “Now climb out so I can open the hatch.”

You hum and let him help you out so he can open the hatch, and then urge you to go back to climb down first, which you do without protest.

When your feet hit the concrete ground you turn and take a couple of steps away to give Jun-ho space to land, but right away you’re slammed with fear as you see the dark water and realize what awaits you in order to leave the cave.

“Jun-ho,” you let out a shaky whisper and when you hear his feet hit the ground, but not respond you peer back and notice his eyes fixated above for a lingering moment before he turns away and hastily rushes to you to grab you by the hand and pull you with him.

“He was right above us,” he shares quickly which you barely catch, but manage to anyway. “He knows we’re going to use the scuba gear to make our escape. We need to hurry.”

He then stops you where the benches are and swipes scuba equipment off the bench to start putting it on you without as much as thinking.

“Jun-ho,” you call out, but it goes to deaf ears because he continues to help you, causing you to glance at the water and see a malicious darkness taunt you. “Jun-ho,” you whisper again as you keep your eyes on the water, but again he doesn’t listen.

“Jun-ho!” You exclaim and he snaps out of his stupor to look at you with concern—“let me,” you don’t express your fear to let him focus on his own gear, which he does, but your fear only heightens and it's something Jun-ho doesn’t need to notice. After he snapped out of his stupor he remembered.

“We have flashlights to light our way, and I’ll be right in front of you.”

You swallow back nervously and nod hesitantly before you wrap your phone in a plastic bag and shove it into a secure pocket. The time comes to dive in the water, but all you see is death looming in the deep water.

“You’ll be okay,” Jun-ho assures you one more time before he puts his mouthpiece in and dives into the water. You grab your mouthpiece and stare at the water, watching the malicious water grow darker and deeper than it actually is. Yet you know time is critical and there’s no other choice so you insert your mouthpiece and dive into the cold water. After that, Jun-ho doesn’t hesitate to sink in and you have no other choice but to follow him. And as comforting as his presence is, your fear doesn’t cease to exist.

The malicious darkness slowly closes in on you the more you swim in the never-ending underwater tunnel, while the bottom, even though it is visible, is an abyss that threatens to drag you to a point of no return. There’s so many times when you want to stop and just ball up and close your eyes to not look at what you’re surrounded by, but you know that if you do so you’re doomed so you keep swimming, feeling the fear gripping at your throat until finally you see the break of light and resurface. You're not out of the water, nor are you close to land, but you can take a deep breath of fresh air and grasp the fact that you aren’t going to drown in the eerie depths.

“We need to get in touch with the police and the Coast Guard. Or at least I have to send what I got on my phone,” Jun-ho says with his mouthpiece out of his mouth and his eyes set on the island you just escaped. “I’m sorry we have to dive back in and swim back.”

You shake your head. “It's the only place we can probably get some service so…it’s okay,” you assure him. “Let’s get going before they find us.”

Jun-ho glances over at you and nods before you reinsert your mouthpiece and dive back into the water. The swim to shore is shorter this time and not as dark. You're not surrounded by an underground tunnel, but the fear is still as high, and your anxiety is skyrocketing as you sense that the Front Man and his pink goons are close due to their lack of presence so far and the fact that you’re out in the open heading right back where you left from.

At least when you finally make it to shore you’re able to let go of some of the emotional weight that fear burdens you with while also shedding the physical weight of the scuba gear. If only you were lucky enough to have service in your phones, but alas, neither Jun-ho nor you have any service, pushing you to climb the rocky hill set before you in hopes of getting enough service on high ground.

Once you’re close to reaching the top though, the sound of a gunshot brings you to an immediate halt, and when you look back to follow the noise another gunshot follows and you’re welcomed to the sight of pink guards trying to climb the rocky hill, and the Front Man.

“Shit,” you mumble between pants and then get pulled down by Jun-ho as he hides you in the shrubbery to pull out his phone and call your Chief now that he has a bar of service. And as the line rings you keep your eyes on the bright pink guards coming your way.

When the Chief finally answers the phone you continue to be on the lookout.

“It’s me, Chief,” Jun-ho says between pants.

As expected the Chief descends into madness, but Jun-ho pushes to be heard. “Can you hear me all right, sir? Just hold on, I’ll explain it later.”

The pink guards disappear past your eyesight, meaning that even if they’re not above you, they’re finding their way.

“Look,” Jun-ho keeps ignoring the question. “We’re somewhere southwest of the mainland.”

“What?” You hear the chief's query before he asks if you’re with Jun-ho since you’ve been missing too, but Jun-ho keeps pressing on.

“Can you try to locate my signal? Put a whole team together for this.”

The Chief once again questions Jun-ho while you see the Front Man following the Pink Guards trail.

“You gotta get a whole squad. The police, coast guard, everyone!” Jun-ho insists, giving a second for the Chief to respond before he continues. “Let me send over a couple of things, okay, and take a look.”

The Front Man also proceeds to disappear into the wilderness, making your heart begin to pound.

“I’ll call you again soon,” Jun-ho says and ends the call but proceeds to try and send the Chief evidence he managed to obtain.

“Are you done? I can’t see them, we have to go,” you hurry Jun-ho up and he follows up with a hum so you grab his hand and pull him with you so you can now put space between you and the people after you.

Once you make it to the top of the hill, Jun-ho lets your hand go and brings you to a stop. “Wait, wait, wait!”

You stop against a tree and look back, seeing him checking his phone and pressing on his screen with obvious panic, but you can’t do anything about it so you look out and that’s when you catch the Pink Guards not far from where you are.

“Jun-ho,” you call out and grab his shoulder to gain his attention so he can see what you do, and it’s at that moment that the Pink Guards come to a brief stop and manage to spot you and Jun-ho.

“They’re over there!” A guard points out to you, making Jun-ho and you break into a sprint to leave where you are.

After a while of running and when you’re within a forest, the guards get closer. You can see them and hear their commotion, but Jun-ho and you are fueled with a dire need to escape with your lives so you manage to pick up your speed, but soon thereafter, you’re forced to a stop as you come across a cliff that leads to the water. There’s no more path, just water below the cliff.

“We…we have to,” you stammer. “We have to jump!”

You look over at Jun-ho and just as you meet his dark eyes, he pushes you into some thick shrubbery just beside you that keeps you hidden. He then kicks something in the water that makes a big splash as the Pink Guards catch up and announce their presence with a gunshot to the air before you can jump out and push you and Jun-ho into the water.

“Police,” Jun-ho exclaims his identity. “Put down your weapons, you got that?!”

You move to be able to peek through the branches and leaves as the pink guards shuffle to find their position in front of Jun-ho.

“We already know everything about you all,” Jun-ho shares as you see him show off his phone. “The Coast Guard will be here soon.”

“I don’t know,” a different but familiar voice interjects in the distance. “Have the Korean police ever been quick to act?” He asks and you drift your attention to the voice and see the Front Man approaching Jun-ho menacingly. “And besides, you barely get any signal around here. I don’t know what you tried to send, but I doubt it went through.”

It’s a form of intimidation, but Jun-ho doesn’t falter. “Come and turn yourself in. You’ll get a plea bargain with that.”

“If you drop your gun right now and hand over the phone, I might let you and the woman live,” The Front Man mocks Jun-ho as he keeps moving toward him, making Jun-ho react.

“Stop right there!”

“The gun of yours holds five bullets,” The Front Man reveals that he knows Jun-ho’s predicament. “But for the police regulations, one chamber must remain empty and one must be filled with a blank. That leaves three live rounds. You already used one to kill a man, and another one to break the lock. Which means that there’s only one left in your gun.”

You clench your jaw with fear and use every muscle in your body not to expose yourself and just tackle Jun-ho

in the water because you know that if you do you'd be killed before you hit the water.

“One bullet is more than enough to kill you,” Jun-ho spats and cocks his gun, but the Front Man keeps moving forward.

“Give up,” he urges Jun-ho.

“I warned you,” Jun-ho snaps. “Take another step and—”

Before he can finish his warning he does as he said and shoots the Front Man in the shoulder, making you hold your breath as you expect the worst.

Alas, you catch the Front Man signal his men not to retaliate, so you’re able to breathe while keeping your attention on every single movement made by both men.

“This is over,” the Front Man groans. “Now come with me.”

Jun-ho steps back closer to the ledge, and the Front Man gets closer while he proceeds to urge Jun-ho to give up—“Do as I say. Or you die.”

“Who the hell…” Jun-ho trails off as he lowers his gun. “Are you?” He finishes asking, and miraculously in response the Front Man reaches for his mask to take it off and reveal his face, giving meaning to why he’s been merciful to Jun-ho and not killed him yet. The Front Man is…In-ho, Jun-ho’s older brother…

No…

“In-ho,” Jun-ho whispers in disbelief as he watches with wide-eyed shock.

“Let's go,” the Front Man tells Jun-ho one more time—“make it easy. For you and your partner,” he says with a softness in his voice whilst he extends his hand to offer it to Jun-ho.

Alas, without surprise Jun-ho declines with a shake of his head, making the Front Man lower his hand to instead grab his gun now. You see that without a fault and intend to come out of hiding, but Jun-ho knows you well. He looks your way and as if pretending to speak to his brother he mutters “no,” to you before glancing back at his brother. “Brother…In-ho, why?”

The Front Man hits the trigger and the bullet pierces Jun-ho’s shoulder, making him stumble back, while your eyes go wide and you immediately cover your mouth to not cry out in response. You do want to run out but either way, before you can even attempt to snap out of your shock, Jun-ho loses balance and falls back.

You want to cry out for him, but with your hands over your mouth, all you can do is contort your face with distress as tears crawl down your cheeks.

Meanwhile, the Front Man approaches the ledge and watches his brother hit the water. After a few lingering seconds he puts his mask over his face, masking any and every emotion he could have, and then turns around. Before he can walk back to his goons, his masked face tilts your way, and his masked eyes find you.

He looks right at you, there’s no mistaking it. You meet eye to eye and he then walks away without exposing you. It’s only once they’ve put some distance between you that you come out of hiding and without so much as hesitating, you jump off the cliff, feeling gravity drag you down with all its force before you hit the water.

Now you would give yourself time to collect yourself after making a big jump, but when you resurface you don’t care about anything, but Jun-ho.

“Jun-ho?!” You cry out and look around desperately. When you find his unconscious body resurfacing you swim toward him, feeling a twinge of agony hit your heart as you fear the worst, but you also know you can’t be certain and that you don’t want this living nightmare to become a reality, so when you reach him you quickly wrap your arms around his body and press your ear against his chest.

Now it takes a while to hear a thing, your own heart is thumping in your ears, but you’re insistent and refuse to accept that he may be dead so you hold your breath and search.

After a second of waiting you finally catch the sound of his beating heart and break down into a sob as you hug his body against you with relief, stealing a moment from time to press a kiss on his forehead before you find a sliver of solace in his beating heart as you press your forehead against his, right there, in the eerie sea.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N- To be continued in a series??? Would you all like that??

[bluewolfangel01]

I feel uhhh so silllyy for requesting this but what if sheep mc snapped at like the brothers cuz there’s no way their 100+ year old asses are still acting like angsty teenagers (MC has a delusional joy moment😔😔😔)

It's okay, this is a very interesting request and I'm glad to do it 😁

I will specifically be writing Mc as a sheep like in the manga cause tiny pissed off sheep going off on tall and powerful demons is hilarious (sorry for the wait btw)

angy Mc is funny Mc and you can't change my mind

(I headcanon that the brothers sense their sin on Mc/you btw)

-Angy Mc-

Satan was the first one to sense something was up after a few minutes after his brothers and him started arguing

At first he wasn't sure what he was sensing, until he realized that he felt his sin, pure festering wrath

The worst part? He realized that it coming from Mc, who oddly enough was just sitting quietly on the couch, blankly staring at their phone in front of them

Satan went quite

Which caught the attention of the other brothers, who also turned their shouting at Satan, and even though Satan was very tempted to strick back at them, he held his tongue for once

Mc: "Can you all not fight, argue, or yell FOR ONE DAY?!"

It was at this point the brothers knew, they f#cked up (and went silent)

Mc: "Honestly, I know yall are brothers and demons so this kinda stuff is bound to happen but for Diavolo's sake this is getting ridiculous!"

Mc: *points hoof at Belphie* " Belphie. I know you're the avatar of sloth and therefore sleep a lot, but you can't solve all your problems and grief by sleeping the time away constantly, and the youngest brother brat thing doesn't always make you endearing!"

Mc: *points hoof at Beel* "Beel. I know you have survivors guilt but Lilith ended up living with humans like she wanted, Belphie doesn't need you standing up for him all the time, and you needn't continue to try to fill the hole inside you by eating in a restaurant that has no more food when you could just go down the street to another food place!"

Mc: *points hoof at Asmo* "Asmo. I know you ~get it on~ mainly to distract yourself from your troubles, to make yourself forget even just for a bit, sometimes but you can't push those feelings down forever, so actually talk with someone, anyone, about whats bothering you rather then trying ignore it! And stop hitting on your brothers, it's kinda weird!"

Mc: *points hoof at Satan* "Satan. I know you have an inferiority complex when it comes to Lucifer, but for the love of Diavolo, you wouldn't be called Satan, avatar of wrath, if you were like Lucifer in the first place. You have blonde hair and like cats, Lucifer has black grey-ish hair and likes dogs. AND THATS JUST THE START OF THE CONTRASTS! You are your own person, get that through your thick skull!"

Mc: *points hoof at Levi* "Levi. I know that it's easy to compare yourself to others and not at least feel somewhat bad about yourself but how do you not realize that you're the best tech wiz we got, an amazing gamer, and the most dedicated being I've ever seen in my life! So if you think that you're not good at something think again!"

Mc: *points hoof at Mammon* "Mammon. How in the whole Devildom is the Avatar of Greed almost always poor?! Also I know you are a material gorl, but items and things can't fully fill the void that you feel, so stop acting all emotionally constipated and just ask for affection if you want it!"

Mc: *points hoof at Lucifer* "And you Lucifer. I know you're the eldest and the prideful one, but there is such a thing as shouldering too much and being stubborn to a fault! Ask for help and for Diavolo to lessen your workload every once in a while! And stop not telling your brothers important things, rather then being all secretive to try to 'protect them' youre just hurting yourself and them cause of it!"

Silence was all that could be heard in the House of Lamentation, the brothers still as statues with varying amount of widened eyes, staring at the small being that they cherished that had just ripped into them so aggressively

After a minute ofa dead silent pause, Mc turned off their phone, hopped off the couch and started walking to the living room exit

Mc: "Honestly, I didn't expect to become a therapist for demons when coming here, and now I can't even read my enemies to lovers book in even somewhat peace.... I don't get paid enough for this."

They then disappeared from the brothers' sight, left to wrap their heads around what just happened

And the arguement that started it all? Who was going to make dinner that night

[artfartt]

I know this was supposed to be a joke but I was curious and now we have biblically accurate Salmon and Mackerel

[firewolf111]

I hope you’re having a good day! Might I request some good old-fashioned Prinxiety? Potentially a confession? I’ve been thinking of them since the new Asides dropped!

Sorry for such a late response. My motivation really tanked. But I finally got to it. (Hope you still remember this request)

Thank you so much for the request! Hope you enjoy! <3

........................

Roman: Virgil! I need you to listen to this!

Virgil: Listen to what?

Roman: I made a song for each of the sides. Here, I'll send you yours. *getting in his phone* And there! I just sent you it.

Virgil: *shrugging and putting on his headphones before pressing play*

It plays for only a minute before he is pausing it and looking up at Roman in confusion.

Virgil: Roman....this is a love song?

Roman: What?

Virgil: This song is a love song.

Roman: Oh....really? Shoot. I...uh...gave you the wrong one. I... I'm sorry.

Virgil: It's whatever. So, who was this song for?

Roman: ...

Virgil: I won't tell. Promise. And I won't judge either. I'm just curious.

Roman: How much of the song did you listen to?

Virgil: About a minute. Why?

Roman: Did you... actually listen to the lyrics?

Virgil: Yeah. It was you singing about how much you love him. One of the lines was about you loving him despite the fact that you think his love of spiders is weird and some other thi- wait. Wait. Hold up. *his eyes widen in realization*

Roman: *laughing* Was it not obvious? Virge. The song title is literally "Lovesong for Virgil" because I never got around to naming it.

Virgil: *looking at his phone* Okay. Listen. In my defense, I wasn't expecting it to be a love song.

Roman: *looking away and rubbing the back of his neck* Neither was I. I meant it when I said I gave you the wrong song. I..uh. *clears throat* Yeah...

Virgil: So I'm not the only idiot who didn't read the song title?

Roman: To be fair, I named each song after the side I wrote it for so I could tell them apart more easily. I just... had two... written for you....

Virgil: Huh. Okay. Um... cool. Do you... want to send me the other one?

Roman: Nope. I'd rather go curl up in my room and let a hydra eat me than acknowledge that this just happened. *starts walking away*

Virgil: *mumbling* Well, now you're starting to sound like me.

Virgil: *calling out* Roman wait! The answer is yes.

Roman: *pausing and glancing back confused* What?

Virgil: *shrugging* Last line of the first verse. *Goes back on his phone*

Roman goes back to his room confused. He sits on his bed, both anxious about the fact that Virgil knows and confused by what he meant. "The answer is yes?" What does that mean? Last line of the first verse. Roman roots through his drawer to find where he wrote down the lyrics since he can't remember what that line is despite being the one to write it. Ask any Disney song and he could loet any line, but the one song he needed to remember, that he wrote, he couldn't. He eventually finds the paper and skims it to find the line. He reads it. Then rereads it. The answer is yes. The answer is yes!

"If I were to confess, would you be mine?"

The answer was yes!

.......................... (dramatic time skip)

A few minutes later has him pounding on Virgil's door.

Roman: Seriously! Did you just go to your room to spite me? You were in the living room five minutes ago!

Virgil: *cackling from the other side of the door*

Roman: Really? You can't just say that and then hide. Come on! *whining* That's not fair.

Virgil: *Cackling louder*

Roman: Virgil!

Patton: *passing by before glancing between Roman and the door* Is something.... wrong?

Roman: Virgil is being a jerk.

Virgil: *opening his door with a wide grin* Roman is just mad because he owes me dinner

Roman: What? No, I don't!

Virgil: And I believe a song as well.

Roman: I... you are impossible to understand, you emo nightmare.

Virgil: Oh, you know you love me.

Roman: *spluttering* Well... you- you're such a.... *huffs* Whatever. Jerk.

Virgil: *smirking and crossing his arms* Prick.

Patton: *glancing between them confused* .... have fun?

[breezy-cheezy]

Vash cuddling Meryl or carrying her around like a teddy bear because she's Smol and Sof and Warm. 🥰

Wow that looks big in this format. E. Extra tol Vash? (click for better quality)

Meryl is not happy with these arrangements. Vash may have found a new weighted stuffie jkHDSKFLS

(new requests are closed now btw)

[pethfics]

ESCAFLOWNE SECRET SANTA 2024

Merry Christmas @mirimiramiri

Title: The Dragon, the Dalek, and the Doctor

Summary: When a rogue enemy from another world captures Escaflowne, Van and Hitomi are forced to seek help from a strange new ally, a time traveller in a blue box.

Read on AO3

[chisutofu]

**link click spoilers ahead**

it's just funny how after season 2 wrapped up, both opening soundtracks finally make perfect fucking sense in both LG & CXS's pov

dive back in time

LG's pov: "time no longer flew like it was when the flash froze everything before. without you, i don't know if I could take this road" (we all know that LG painstakingly went back in time over and over again in hopes to create a timeline where CXS does'nt d*e. we don't know how many times he has done this but for him it doesn't even matter anymore bc he can't see a world without CXS in it)

CXS's pov: "every minute that I dialed back in time, every single existence rewinds, something secretive hidden inside your mind" (CXS to his seemingly rational partner. yes, he trusts him fully but maybe deep down there's a nagging feeling that there's something about LG he just couldn't figure out---and now we know why)

vortex (has both CXS & LG's pov but mainly LG's)

CXS: "where do we end up when we save the world, truth in the shadows so brightened in gold. place our fate into the ones aren't in control" (CXS' moral dilemma every single time he goes back to the past but really can't change anything no matter how bad it is bc this is the number one rule they've established w/ LG)

LG: "i guess that there was never such a thing like everything's meant to be. but i'mma win this silly game, until then I will never leave" (LG's evident determination to keep trying and gambling until he can win CXS's life back in the game of fate)

LG: "wasn't it hard to follow? i'd do it again tomorrow. it drag me down and drag me down. maybe we'll never leave" (LG knows he is a hypocrite and the guilt was probably eating away at him for the longest time, but at this point he is way past wrestling with his morality that it is no longer a question of how he saves cxs but "when"...in which timeline...and he will keep trying until then)

CXS: "i've held promises unbroken, even when the night has fallen" (referring to all the times he kept LG's reminder to try not to change the past no matter what happens and no matter how fcked up it gets. there may be times when he gets impulsive and tries to save everyone but in the end he know he has to accept whatever may come)

LG: "shattered mirrors our reflection, should you keep the light on reason" (referring to himself. he basically lost his mind when he loses CXS the first time that it doesn't even matter if he keeps on gambling away the fate of everyone else. what only matters to him is that he can get to an ending where he saves CXS)

idk if i am reaching but this is just me and my mental gymnastics after s2. i rest my case

[drunkenlionwrites]

Then may we have mer!Woowoo's first time with reader? 👀

One more mer!drabble. I literally got them one by one 🫣 Some love for Nico now!

You’ve been now gently tucked into the seaweed bedding inside an underwater cave, where you’ve been taken by a certain merman that stole your heart. You could’ve never imagine you’d meet one, even though there’s been murmurs among your family and the whole village in general that they exist and sometimes steal humans.

Though you were sure that was not the case. This man has been nothing but gentle and sweet to you so far. He’s been bringing you cute trinkets and gifts, consisting of shells and pieces of corals, sometimes big fish or even ocean mammals he caught himself. Your family knew this and your grandma has always accepted his gifts graciously, bowing to him politely and nudging you to go closer into the water to thank him, which always made him puff his chest proudly and flash you with big grins.

What your family didn’t know, however, that when the sky became dark, you’d slip from the house and go to visit your favourite merman without prying eyes around you. You two couldn’t properly communicate verbally, but his gentle caresses and big fascinated eyes were enough for you. You let him tress his fingers along your sides and hips, let him press his chilly puffy lips to yours, let him nuzzle into your chest and neck. You let him do anything to you, cause you looked at him with the same fascination.

So that’s how you found yourself in this cave. During one of the nights, your mermay lover just took you in his arms and swam away from the beach shore, later diving underwater, trying to reach the destination as quickly as he could. As water started filling your lungs, you’ve thought that it was your end for sure, but it all ended in several seconds, as you’ve felt that he pushed you out of the water onto the rocky surface and then plopped onto beside you himself. He looked guilty now, and was gently rubbing your back and shoulders to calm you down.

You coughed some water out and looked around — the place looked unbelievably…homey? The walls were decorated with pretty shells and dead starfishes (you hoped they were dead), the faraway corner of the cave was all covered in a thick layer of dried up and soft seaweed, which you walked to. You’ve been angry at your him, but your curiosity won over as you’ve started exploring the cave. “Is it your home?” you asked the merman, to which he shook his head. “Then what is it?” At that he chirped loudly and pointed at you, moving his body closer to you into the cave. “Me? But…why? What for?” You asked in confusion. He chirped more, trying to explain, but it wasn’t like you could’ve understood him. “Will you bring me back?” you hesitantly asked, fearing the worst, and he enthusiastically nodded, now holding your shoulders with both hands.

He looked at you once again with those big grey eyes, looking mesmerised and still a bit guilty, as he swiped off the strands of wet hair out of your face. You exhaled and moved closer to press a tender kiss onto his lips. It was impossible to stay mad at him for long, and now you weren’t even feeling afraid, comforted by his happy smiles and a promise to bring you back up. You actually felt safe here.

As he kissed you back, his embrace became tighter and the movements of his lips more demanding. He pushed his tongue onto your lips to make you open your mouth and once you did that, he deepened the kiss, pushing your shoulders gently to lay you on the seaweed blanket. You’ve felt his hand roaming over your body, the weight of his body pleasantly pressing into you, as he still held the most of it up with one arm.

He’s been panting already once you broke the kiss. He looked into your eyes once again, as one of his hands trailed down your body and touched your puffiness in between your legs as if asking permission. You looked at him and so enamoured with his soft gaze you nodded at him, instantly feeling his hand cupping your pussy as he roared slightly and rushed back to press open-mouthed kisses on your neck and shoulders.

You giggled and held him close to you, as he hoisted up your sleeping dress and began sliding his fingers in between your folds. From adrenaline rush and then from his hot kisses you’ve already have been very desperate and wet for him, so he slid inside of you without any resistance, soon establishing a slow and pleasurable pace that earned him your sweet mewls and arching back. You put your hand on his and carefully guided his fingers into your clit, making him repeat the gentle circular movements around it. As soon as he felt you twitching and moaning louder, he grinned and repeatedly stoked it again and again, watching as you writhed under him. He continued abusing your newfound weakness until you pulsed around his fingers and brought him back to your lips to kiss him hungrily, moaning into his mouth.

He laid down and put his head onto your chest, hugging you tightly with one arm as you came down from your high. By the way his fingers were still inside of you, you knew this was only the beginning.

[plasticfangtastic]

Cozy Corner Kintober Day 8 (Day 2 for me)

Prompts: 12. Nursing/lactation, 4. Overstimulation, 11. Double penetration, Alt. prompt: Switch (dunno if bdsm switch or vers, so I went with vers)

No codiciarás los bienes ajenos

A Homelander x Ashley Barret x Butcher fanfic.

A/N: told myself this would be a short thing but no... hope y'all like it!

R18: Homelander ‘nuff said, threesome, smut, porn logic, R18, Bottom Homelander, Bottom Butcher, Pegging, dudcon, love triangle, everybody is Bi, slow burn, angst, not proofread sorry.

Word Count: 8K approx.

God had funny ways to speak directly to his favorites, it hadn’t registered at first and frankly he hadn’t care– but the larger she got the more and more difficult it became to ignore, building a slow burning anger spreading inside America’s favoritein return– it was a cheap knockoff of what he had endure with Madelyn but instead of bitter jealousy and rage, he was upset and mad that she would dare to act without his authorization..

Ashley was his property… She was not her own, she was not Vought’s, she was not of her family… she was Homelander’s– she should have asked him permission before spreading her legs like the town’s wench, he thought grinding on his teeth.

As her stomach engorged, the defiance of her actions brought him closer to a boiling point.

Ashley had simply opted to play stupid, acting as if her actions hadn’t threatened to cause a riff in their relationship, as if she wasn’t actively being hostile against him after all the good that he had done for her– how could she dare hurt him like this?

Homelander was the first to informed her, smelling the cocktail of hormonal changes taking place within, peeking under her skin to catch the despicable clumps of cells forming, she had been stunted, running towards her assistant to get her a test for something Homelander had already confirmed with more accuracy than any piss soaked stick… she had been a nervous mess for the remaining week, even more than what Homelander was accustomed to.

 He had approached her after a meeting, cornering her with a stiff look on his features.

“You getting rid of it?” He would’ve made a demand but at the time, he didn't think the idiot would’ve jeopardized her career to play with dolls– the labs downstairs can do it discreetly and free– just so you know.” 

She stared at him with her big round exhausted green eyes, and for a moment Homelander was left speechless for she held back a sob, just shaking her head lightly and thanking him for his concern.

Leaving him behind as her kitten heels clicked on the polished floors.

But with every passing week the thing continued to grow, and grow, and so did Ashley… their relationship hadn’t changed, he was still behaving the same around her but as she got closer and closer to the end of the race, he was forced to held back in public– he couldn't be seen as the bastard yelling at a pregnant woman, he had to watch his tone, never raising his voice if people were around, and Ashley knew just how dangerous this was becoming, worried that one day she wouldn’t make it to her apartment in one piece, feeling she would be in a freak accident that her own people would cover up.

Ashley had stared at her fourth pregnancy test in the comfort of her own bathroom…

Thinking heavily on Homelander’s words she stumbled into her bedroom, her mother’s picture taken at 16th birthday watching over her– her mother would get diagnosed a few weeks after that party. But there she was smiling, her hair a light brown and her eyes just like hers, still so happy and loving as she held her daughter.

Why was she alive?

She was a ghoul clinging to her unlife, as she stroked her stomach thinking of what was germinating within, Ashley thought of her life… What was she living for? Work? What else…? Everyday felt like her last when Homelander was around, everyday was just another day she was allowed to continue existing, always caught in his grasps, surrounded by wicked souls that had taken almost all of her humanity, she had to become like them in order to survive… but why was she surviving, for? She had no boyfriend or girlfriend, she could barely maintain friends, her father had remarried some bitch twenty years younger than himself and now had kids he liked more, she had no siblings, and her cousins lived on the other side of the country, she dedicated her life to the grind, her best days behind it seemed– she was climbing the ladder just like her mother had always hoped for, for she thought of her as brilliant… Now she mingled with people of importance as a member of their flock… but above all she was in Homelander’s very small social circle, which was amazing!

But why did she live for? To be afraid of Homelander? That’s all? She thought.

Looking around at the house, at the empty rooms, and the lack of life– it was just an expensive oversized shoebox holding nothing, nothing to come back home to… she could sleep on a park bench and it wouldn’t be that different from her current state of being– maybe I could live for this? She mumbled wondering if it could hear her.

The money and her career were good but now she had something that she could dedicate her life for… something other than Homelander.

It was stupid and selfish to bring a child into this poisonous paradise, but she could be her anchor, to keep her from steering into the iceberg, to keep her holding on to life.

She only had a single name in her head, only one man responsible for this conundrum.

William Butcher had tracked her, appeased to her decaying humanity for assitance with the Homelander dilema, she wanted to run away from him but the bastard was just as bad as Homelander when it came to taking no for an answer, in this brief exchanged Ashley was finally able to speak her mind, years of torture flooded out of her chest and this man the devil’s priest sitting in its mold infested confessionary box listening to her, absolving her in the process– she was so afraid of him, so scared of Homelander’s heart, and for the first time there was somebody she could speak to, who understood her pain and had been doing things against him, in a sense this was the closest she would get to personal retribution against her demon.

Somehow during those brief moments (possibly do to the whiskey) both had woke up with their entire bodies sore, William turned on her sheets glad to have a soft mattress under his back, feeling the sharp pain of raw flesh where she had bitten and clawed, letting a soft chuckle thinking about how hard and frantic she had fucked the brit, she was so demanding William couldn’t believe she wouldn’t dare give the caped cunt some lippy, after spouting all her exigencies to Billy eagerly without care.

They didn’t see each other much after that, the Brit had found the hard way that Ashley for all her hatred and fear… was loyal to Homelander, terrified of ever leaving his side, of knowing what lay on the other side of the river.

William had to give it to Homelander, he had completely brainwashed her into pure misplaced devotion.

So as she let the city fall asleep around her, she dared not contact Butcher.

The more it felt real, the more she gave herself something to wake up tomorrow for, even if now she had to deal with Homelander, but it would be alright… it would be alright, she kept praying that it would work out.

“You taking maternity leave?” Homelander had entered her office slouching on her couch while pretending to read some marketing reports for an upcoming hair product line with his name on it–I need to know how long– have to find your replacement.” he said with sharp snark.

“Only one month. I already have been interviewing nannies.” She said meekly, fidgeting with her pen as she stopped work to give him undivided attention– "can't afford too many setbacks– especially those I caused.”

“Why?” He looked so confused.

“You’re also my priority.” She hadn’t meant for it to sound so personal, but she was so exhausted, pregnancy insomnia had devoured her brain and these piles of paperwork didn’t shrink any further– I’ll be back before you know it.”

Her sheepish smile didn’t even register on her own brain, Homelander fixed his posture, pursing his lips back and forth between a wobbly smile and anxiety, as he looked at Ashley and her glowing skin.

As he stood in the Seven’s boardroom looking down at his kingdom, Homelander thought of Ashley’s words, like a knife in his back… how could she? How could she dare toy with him?

As he looked at the bipedal ants beneath… Homelander could only wonder who was the ill-born shithead that had dipped; Ashley didn’t smell of anybody other than herself and her perfume– all hypoallergenic goat soap and sea-salt shampoo mixed with adrenaline and hopelessness, he had heard the tinder notifications go off from time to time tho… was it perhaps a one night stand? Of course ‘His Ashley’ would be so irresponsible– he recoiled at his own thoughts… His… was she his? Of course she fucking was! She was his property! The louder voice in his head reminded him of what he was and what she ultimately was… a lackey, his servant, no different from a dog… He had been a good owner so why did she stabbed him? He mused on the thought.

The whole month her replacement had been tempted to quit five times, cried fourteen times, writen a 2-week notice three time, almost attempted suicide once and considered twice. 

Homelander had let out months of frustration on the poor man, he was no Ashley… so fucking weak and pathetic, never dressed properly and stinking of axe and hugo boss, no amount of telling him that the smell was irritating got thru his thick skull, never speaking the way Homelander could bare to listen to, never fast enough or efficient enough in his eyes… he quit the same day Ashley showed up back in the office, baby in hand… and that’s when the nightmare truly began… payback for his mistreatment of her substitute.

God must’ve been laughing.

God must’ve been inviting the devil to the watch party.

Homelander hadn’t had a second to admire the bodily changes before, so angry to notice… It wasn't like Madelyn whose every inch and line he had registered… every inch made to hurt him as she abandoned him for somebody he could never hope to replace.

Ashley wasn’t ugly, just a step above average, but plain compared to every other woman in his life, and her eyes were just so big and weird to him.

But as he caught her breastfeeding in her office… he noticed just how much her breast had grown… maybe 2 ½ sizes bigger, they were so swollen, so heavy and that tiny little girl didn’t want anything to do with them. She much rather the bottle much to the first-time mother’s frustration, who assumed she would just latch immediately, it was the most natural thing for a newborn after all, but there she was getting frustrated– she really couldn’t do one thing right, she cried.

Homelander just closed the door behind himself trying to look away, Ashley jumped slightly covering her baby and herself with a cloth.

He licked his lips, swallowing sand, as he tried to distract himself from the smell of fresh milk waltzing towards his nose… he looked at his boots, trying not to beg for the forbidden.

“Try tickling her mouth with your finger… give her a breather then try again… don’t force it” Homelander said gently, putting the flowers down the table, his ears a dark shade of pink– I’ll come later…”

“Oh” She looked at the arrangement shocked that he had brought her a present to congratulate her on her delivery, albeit a bit late but...god this was somethign remarkable– is okay… just give me 1 minute to get the bottle.”

“Is not good to give up so easily, Ashley.” His voice had an odd firmness to it.

The impromptu meeting went smoothly Homelander doing everything in his power to look away, to hide his face as the smell of milk and the sounds of that baby drinking mocking him– god it smelled so fucking delicious, his mouth filling with spit in between words.

This was punishment.

If watching it wasn’t an adrenaline rush… his ears were plagued by the sounds of her breast pumps, of the sloshing of her milk as she shook the plastic bottles before packing them, every other time she was in the building, coop in her office.

Homelander would find himself planted firmly on the spot as he caught the sound of the machine sucking… of her little whines and moans of relief as the pressure on her tits loosen.

God must’ve been pissing himself laughing when he watched him grow unbearably hard to the sounds of Ashley tasting a little drop of milk off her wrist that had spilled… her tongue’s quick flick provoking him.

Ashley was his property… she had no right to tease him like this.

That night Homelander waited ‘til Ashley left the building before heading in the dead of night to wander into her office, and here he could almost hear the angels giggling as he looked into her fridge and found himself in a very familiar scene.

He tucked his arms behind his back hiding the bottle with his cape, as he hurried upwards– in the solace of his penthouse, undressed one hand pumping his cock, caressing the lenght of his shalf as his pre-cum slicked the tip of his cock, he moaned with every short sip, letting it pool in his mouth and mingle with his spit– Ashley cradling him in her arms and her breast in his mouth, fantasizing of his hollowed cheeks sucking on those swollen breast, who gave a shit if it was Ashley of all people!? Not him… not when she tasted so freaking sweet. Not when she was all he could smell, all he wanted to smell, all he wanted to cover himself with, just to fill his stomach with… he laid in bed with his twitching cock, cum all over his abdomen and a light head.

He had come so hard his eyes had grown unbearably heavy, he dared not wash the taste of milk off his lips, he looked at the chewed up nipple and the light puddle of milk at the base of the bottle before just passing off with a full stomach.

He would have hated Melody had he actually given two shits about her, but with her arrival he at least had an excuse to satisfy a craving, glad that the baby would latch but still prefer plastic… not knowing how lucky she was.

On the occasion Ashley brought the child, he gave her deadstares which the child seemed to find amusing, squealing in approval.

Melody Barrett didn’t bother him until now.

Curiosity got the best of him, and maybe Ashley hadn’t been as clever as he had given her credit because there she was arguing with him… with HIM!!! in her apartment, this traitor, this wench, this bitch had never been loyal! He wanted to burn her down, and shower himself on her ashes.

All it had taken was her coming to work one day with something more than unusual clinging to her dress… cigarette smoke, he had smelled this flavor before, he had smelled it on Maeve, but above all he had smelled it on William Butcher.

Cheap cigarettes.

So he flew to her apartment just past 10 pm, in all their years Homelander had never once actually seen the 2 bedroom loft, it was big with high ceiling most likely an upgrade from her previous residency, not that it mattered… the building could come down and he wouldn’t care about all the broken kitsch or its residents… What mattered was that his property was interacting with his mortal enemy… and killing them both right now the only thing in his mind.

William had calmed down, demanding to know if the parasite was his or not which Ashley was so hesitant to answer, squirming in her skin trying to deliver the news without the other man snapping, as she spoke Butcher dropped to the nearest chair, pressing his hands into his face trying to wash away his disbelief, he let a light chuckle out murmuring to himself before ignoring her completely as he headed to the baby’s bedroom– all pink and girly, within laid a sleeping baby, her hair just a light shade of brown and her eyes now that Homelander thought about were… hazel green. He signed and gave up on the spot slouching on the bar not daring to touch her.

How sweet, Homelander thought.

Butcher emerged telling the woman that he wouldn’t be around for the kid if Ashley continued to be bound to Homelander, he didn’t want a new wife or a sex friend but he was fine with being there if she returned to the living.

Ashley just stood there twisting a strand of hair, nervous, her skin covered with goosebumps at the thought of running away– Melody was that bridge to freedom, but in all the time she’d known of Butcher he hadn’t succeeded at harming Homelander… who was he fooling? He was a failure just as much as she was! But he still believed he could win… he still refused to give up… that’s all she needed to believe.

“I… I wish I could.”

Homelander saw red.

How dare she think she could leave?

No… she couldn’t… no… not to him… don’t run to him… he thought, as Butcher's whole demeanor changed, the woman he could barely stand now looked so frail, he dared comfort her, trying to poison her mind with hopes.

When had Homelander enter the home? When did he break the handle off the balcony door that he still had scrunched in his hand? All he knew was that Ashley was cowering behind her arm chair and Butcher was standing in the way.

“why…?” Homelander’s lips shivered– why…w-hy wou-would y-you leave?”

He pushed Butcher out the way, flinging the man right into the other end of the living room, dragging his feet towards Ashley, she dropped backwards crawling away from him as his hand reached after her.

He lifted her effortlessly feeling how thin her neck was around his gloved hand.

“Why would you leave, Ashley?” 

Ashley sobbed lightly, not putting any resistance just clinging to his wrist without any force.

“I will never let you go.” he let go of her neck, his arm took her shoulder pushing her right against his chest, the faint glow of his eyes looking at her face– you’re mine… there’s no world out there for you if you leave me.”

Her heart was so obnoxiously loud, but he liked the sound.

His nose touched her own, their lips so close she could almost feel his smile kissing her.

“Is that clear?”

She nodded, holding back with every ounce of will she had left her tears, he cradled her in his arms, cooing and stroking her back, forcing her into a tender embrace, watching Butcher as he emerged bloodied.

“Was he a good fuck? Did you have fun?”

She could’ve tried escaping his grip but the thought of putting any resistance terrified her, the thought of dying and not knowing what would happened to Melody was enough to keep her still– yet the man wanted an answer as her shoulder began to ache, as she winced and cringed from the agony.

He let her go, throwing her into the ground just to meet Billy head on.

“Was Maeve not enough? Did taking her from me wasn’t enough for you, William?”

“Seems to me she was never yours, cunt.” he spat into the carpet– can’t blame you for being attached… She could bend a pipe with that pussy.”

He couldn’t say that of the mess trying to collect itself behind the boy scout.

“You want a list? Do you want a list of all the women I’ve fucked just so you can rub it on my face, you cretin!”

“Man I really missed out on fucking Madelyn, I bet you would’ve thrown a bigger tamtrum.” Butcher tried to get a step towards the door, but Homelander took him by the arm– keep the bitch I don’t want your sloppy seconds.” He growled.

Homelander was silent, ignoring Butcher’s complaints as he tried to free his arm, Ashley barely regaining her composure as she watched Homelander lost in thought.

Punishing Ashley would be easy, she was easy to scare back in line but Butcher… this was the second time… if he let him go there would be a third time and then he would be nothing but a fool for the rest of his life.

Butcher who had promised him so much, who devoted his life to him, who molded his whole being to him… Homelander scoff at the perversion… much like Ashley… William was his… he was HIS enemy… the closest thing to an equal… his equal if he crossed the line and took the V.

Butcher struggled putting his whole weight trying to free himself, knowing his bones  would break if he pulled any harder– Homelander turned his head around just to dare look him straight in the eyes..

Butcher was a dog… all dogs needed an owner… just like Ashley was his dog… He had the space for another dog, the voice susurrated.

Homelander tugged at the arm bringing them so close, now it was Butcher in a strange embrace.

“You’re a stray mutt that needs to be fixed… you got my cute widdle Ashley pregnant… leaving me a half-mutt to take care of… so William what should I do with you? Should I take you to the shelter or take care of you myself?”

Butcher growled, punching him and bruising his hand instead.

“Don’t you dare touch the kid, you sick fuck!”

“I won’t touch the kid. I’m not an animal– you two on the other hand…”

Homelander took the man’s chin pushing his thumb in between his teeth, chuckling as he tried to bite the gloved finger teasing a broken tooth in return.

“If you wont leave my Ashley alone… I guess I have to take care of you too… I know you… I know your weaknesses… you won’t leave that kid alone, you’re not heartless… you are soft.” He said with genuine mockery and malice in his tone.

Homelander stroke Billy’s temple, gentle fingers trace his face returning to those lips, so soft looking, he could see the charms that tried to steal his Ashley away, that seduced Maeve into the dark side and that kept Becca so devoted, behind the gruff and scars the man was cute, handsome even– but ultimately soft looking, those eyes so dear and pretty.

“I’ll take care of you both.” He smiled leaning closer until his lip brushed Butcher’s lips– you’re mine too.”

Butcher tried resisting but Homelander was too much, no pulling on his suit could get him to move as he intensified their kiss, his tongue forcing his open, his lips bruising his, leaving them tender and sore, Homelander moaned and shuddered as he felt the resistance, tasting him to the core, rejoicing as the man slowly lost his footing and will– Butcher tried to pull him by the hair but all he gained from the man was a loud moan, the more he ran out of breathe the more he realized Homelander reaction were abnormal. He let him lead rubbing his nail behind the blond’s ear catching the moment Homelander shivered and let out a whispy moan, how much he liked it when Butcher pulled at his hair and tickled his bare skin... whatever was happening here– Butcher had a plan on how to make it out alive, make it out unharmed, to make sure that Ashley and the baby could get out in one piece, he would find a way to get Mallory to help them but first… first he had to sink low.

He had to play along and sign him praises, he would be a martyr if he had to for the child he should’ve never had– why did he do this to himself? He should have drank those questions instead of confronting the chihuahua, why did he need to know? Now he was here about to degrade himself, as punishment for his curiosity.

Homelander was shocked awake from this maladaptive dreams by Butcher wild kisses, he moaned, panting into the supe’s steel silky lips, one hand had left the scalp and found himself digging into the supe’s tights already a couple fingers touching bare back.

Homelander whined separating them finally, his toes squirming as he felt Butcher’s calloused fingers try to reach his ass.

“Ticklish aren’t we?”

Homelander dare not humor him, but as the man managed to find treasure Homelander gasped… his fingers were so rough, it was like sandpaper, no wonder Ashley fell for his trap, his hand was so masculine and rough… it was domineering… he squeezed him– Butcher wouldn’t admit it outloud but Homelander had a perfect ass, it was so big and squeezy, so heavy yet malleable… why hide all these cheesecake behind the cape, idiot? He thought.

“You want to own me don’tcha?” He growled into Homelander’s lips– "you want to be my owner then play with me, young master.”

Homelander nose flare-up, feeling small in the arms of the taller englishman.

“I got a lot of pent-up energy,” he purred.

“I guess… I guess… I guess we can p-play” He mumbled.

“Please not in the living room…” Ashley muttered, now collected and looking annoyed as she picked a large piece of a broken trinket, and admired the broken door swinging lightly– William… Homelander, sir.”

“Of course… my bad” Homelander freed himself from Butcher, dragging him by the hand as he complained, picking Ashley and heading towards her bedroom on the way – let’s have fun!”

The personality switch obnoxious.

Okay he had not anticipated this, Butcher thought, blaming a possible concussion for his lapse of judgment and poor planning.

The moment that door closed behind Homelander, he jumped Butcher once more, throwing him in the plush bed, surprised to see just how soft and bouncy it was, Homelander examined the older man beneath him, and the scowl in his face.

“Ashley you pick”

“Excuse me?”

She looked at them both perplexed, biting on her thumb as she caressed her wrist.

“Pick who fucks who, silly.” His smile creeps her out– you want to see him pinning me down and fucking me like the wild dog he is, or you want to see him bouncing on my cock like a good bitch?”

It must’ve been a trick question, but something in her brain must’ve been broken by Homelander ages ago, so she fixed her composure and gave it a real thought. Either picture was good… in her bed were two beautiful older men, two men who clearly hated each other whoul whould be sinking into a violent and heavy dirty hate fuck session… looking at Butcher she had an inkling that the man would rejoice at the thought of making Homelander into a sow and she herself would like to see that man begging for mercy and his enemy’s cock, but on the other hand… did she want to risk pissing Homelander off if she didn’t let him top first? The way he worded things made it seem there wasn’t any real choice… and Butcher had the look that he would turn to putty if that happened… After all, the man had been more than willing to make her happy during their exchange.

“Give her a minute you can almost hear the porno playing in her head” Homelander whispered with a shit eating grin.

Butcher rolled his eyes.

“You top first, sir.”

He smiled in approval, it was a trick question after all.

“Prep him… like you did the last time.” He dismounted resting on the bed by his side– don’t look at me like that William– is her making the decisions… don't worry it’ll be your turn next!” he winked– bring the toys I wanna see them!” he said playfully.

Ashley was almost robotic as she took to the night stand and took her toys and lube out, Homelander counted with both hands at the amount of stuff she kept, running out of fingers by the time she was done.

Butcher had nothing to say as Homelander picked the silicon anal beads, watching him with mild disgust as the man licked one of the beads.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Ashley?”

“What?” she said weakly.

“The ones in the closet… Jesus did you go during a closing down sale?” he looked at the toys on the bed, all the vibrators and dildos.

“I think this enough, mate.”

“Ashley get the ones in the closet.” His voice is sweet but firm.

The woman obeyed heading to grab the box in the walk-in closet, she took it to the bed blushing hard as Homelander waited to see the contents.

A double sided dildo and a themed strap-on.

“You are freaky” Butcher chuckled unable to look at the spread and believed it belonged to her… no wonder she was eager to eat his ass that time– so if you’re fucking me… what is she doing?”

“Me or you…”

He hopped out the bed smoothly and began to undress, letting the suit thud by his foot.

Something about it registered poorly for Butcher, it was abnormal to see, but he gave it little thought as she caught the sounds Ashley was making on the other side of the bed.

Ashley's mouth watered slightly as she took the double sided dildo in her hand then looked at Homelander as he turned around to take his thighs off, then back at the Brit mouthing an apology that he didn’t want.

She should’ve picked the secret third option which was herself.

Ashley took her silk nightgown off with ease, and that confident arrogant prick jaw shook as he saw those swollen breasts, as he looked at her curves and the little drop of milk falling off her nipple.

His gaze fixated as she moved to the bed pushing some of her toys aside to take the lube bottle, Butcher took to removing his shirt, kicking his shoes off towards the Supe, Homelander dare not budge from his spot content to just watch for the time being.

Billy pulled on Ashley letting her naked frame fall on him, and as if Butcher pressed the wrong button the woman was quick to let her plastic dick take over her brain… Butcher was a manly man, much better than her usual cheap cock, he was rough, his muscles firm even if his stomach was getting soft by age, his chest so hairy-- a thrill to squeeze and pull. His sight focused on the other man in the room, watching Homelander irritation and then sudden amusement as Ashley started to pull down on Butcher’s pants.

She wanted to fuck this man and make him call her ‘daddy’-- mostly ‘cuz  Homelander would probably like that, and not for devious reasons, she negotiated with herself there.

Homelander let himself sit on the edge of the bed watching with detachment as William 's arms were pinned over his head as Ashley grinded herself gleefully, biting on his lips, and Butcher’s plan was simple make the bastard happy and find a moment to get the baby and run, Ashley would survive, she was always resourceful otherwise how else had she made it this far under his thumb, and he would get her help, Homelander wouldn’t care for the baby, afterall.

“You've done this before, haven’t you?” 

She turned to him a thread of spit still connecting her with Butcher, she nodded lightly following Homelander as he moved behind her.

“Get him nice and wet for me while I take care of you.”

Ashley mewled as his hand pulled her hips upwards and towards himself, Butcher hated himself as his cock throbbed at the sight, her face was elated she was starting to let go, getting drunk on their kiss and the manly musk of William– Butcher shimmied upwards as Homelander pulled them away, knowing the man was secretly envious from the look on his face.

She was still plump from the baby, her body had more meat to hang on and squeeze, he gave her cunt a light slap, watching her shudder and jump from luscious pain, Homelander chuckled pulling her silk panties aside, spitting on his fingers before teasing her cunt, Ashley had never expected his fingers to be so freaking smooth yet so fucking warm, as he slid a finger into her folds, it was as if he had boiled his hand before touching her, it was so hot it made her writhle in pleasure, her juices coating his fingers instastenously, as he increased the speed of his strokes.

Butcher took his pants off finally regaining her attention, he adjusted himself in the bed as he threw the pants to the side and spread his legs unsure if this was the right position or not.

And just as Homelander teased the entrance, Ashley hopped forward looking back at Homelander for permission which he quietly gave as he teased her further.

“Lay on your back some more” She said to Butcher.

He followed instruction glad that she owned a king size bed, laying down with just a couple pillows and his arm for support, the other giving his cock a few tugs just to start building friction, His cock blocking half her face, her hands reached out after him caressing his thighs as Homelander fingers entered her, spreading her inside, rejoicing at the sound of her pussy drenching his fingers, sloshing sweet juices around– she was reacting better than he expected… that he had ever wanted… just for him… it made him happy that Ashley continued to be so good for him, pulling at his fingers as he drew them back, moaning under her breath with pure neediness, he looked up watching the back of her head bob up and down as she took Butcher thick rod into her mouth, it was salty, the smell drowning her, she let go letting Butcher jerk himself as her hands forced his hips upwards, forcing himself to take one of his legs, pulling his knees closer to his chest as her mouth kissed his cunt.

She slobbered all over, licking every inch of his mancunt as if it was a delicacy, the taste was strong but addictive, licking and teasing the entrance and his folds with her tongue all while Homelander did the same to her, his fingers going faster and faster, her pussy weak to his relentless abuse as he pumped another finger into her opening, his other hand caressing her ass after “mellow” tap after tap, her whole body electrocuted with each slap, feeling a hand-print burnt on her skin.

Homelander couldn’t believe just how good this was, hearing Butcher grunts and hisses as Ashley reduced him into a slave to his sexual desires, bucking his hips lightly to get her to reach further, she lifted herself spit down her chin reaching after the bottle of lube and a bullet from the spread.

Taking the tip of the bottle towards his entrance, she smiled as she squeezed the cool gel around his ass, Homelander begrudgingly let go of her to let her work.

Fingers and toys digging into Butcher, the Brit trying to contain his enjoyment but his body was betraying him, he hated having to admit that Ashley was making him feel good, his cock leaking heavily into his happy trail, as he chocked as the toy teased the tip of his cock.

“That’s enough.”

Butcher almost brays as she lets go, wanting to feel her massage his prostate even further.

It was Homelander’s turn, picking her up just enough to put her on the man’s chest, she looked back after being put down shocked about how easy it was for him to lift her, Butcher had a hard time breathing for a second until she perched above him, before Butcher could say something Homelander pulled him slapping his hips against Butcher’s lifting him long enough to place a cushion under hips, placing Butcher’s face mere inches from Ashley's pussy.

Butcher had no time to protest before he felt the heat.

His whole being writhe, pulsating as the man let a sharp wet hiss… Homelander filled him, resting his forehead against Ashley’s back as he felt the soft insides. Butcher was divine so warm and soft, so forbidden, so perfect.

Here he was fucking him as he gasped and croon into Ashley, his body assaulted from both ends, glad he couldn’t see the man fucking him so roughly and deeply, glad he couldn’t see the man making him feel so good.

It must be some divine joke that this bastard would have no issue turning him into a woman, if he had wanted him from the get go.

He sped up, knowing his cock had gotten thicker, he was about to finish.

Ashley was screaming behind her hands, not wanting to wake up her kid, but Butcher was eating her better than any of those Spaniards ever did.

“Turn around Ashley!” Homelander growled, his voice hiding the desperation in his heart.

She didn’t hesitate, and before she could say a word there he was– her personal demon kissing her fiercely, pumping his hips and handling Butcher like a pocket pussy, lifting his legs into his shoulder to hit his prostate spot on with every rough trust, as he kissed her he melted into her. Fuck he loved kissing, his whole body twitching as her tongue made a home in his lips, somehow she had gained the confidence to pull at him, to demand him to kiss her harshly moaning as Butcher had his fill with her pussy, sucking her lips, and pulling on the folds, as Homelander squeezed at her breast and twisted her nipples just hard enought to make her squeal and squeeze at Butcher’s tongue.

Dangling by Homelander’s shoulders as he kissed her, drowning in his taste, leaving Butcher further and further behind, pulsing lips taking a breather, sore and raw, but William doesn’t want to stop… so his hand chases after her, fucking her selfishy.

Homelander had slowed down giving his lover slow and deep trust, making sure to fill him to the brim as the two sudden lovers turned selfish too, above him.

She looked down seeing the bouncing twitching cock leaking all over his stomach.

“I have an idea…” she whispers, leaning into the blond’s ear away from Butcher.

He lowers the leg, manhandling Butcher with a glint in his eyes as he helps Ashley, taking the older man into the edge of the bed, he grins making sure to never let Butcher free, her sopping pussy kisses the tip of Butcher’s cock, the man whines biting his lip squeezing at the sheets as she drops and takes him effortlessly, sheathing him with her wet warmth that he had worked so hard to give her, she’s gasping into Homelander’s ear as the man pulls her by the neck.

Biting into the flesh sucking at her pale skin, leaving a trail of hickeys to mark her with, letting Butcher know this was also his.

Butcher saw white as both ends of him were tormented with pleasure, sweating profusely and ready to cum.

He let out a loud grunt as his body lost the battle.

Crying as his cock was squeezed and Homelander's thick cock kept pumping, Homelander wrapped his arms around Ashley as he cummed feeling Butcher tightening around him so suddenly, breathless as he rolled his hips deeper wanting to mark Butcher the same way he had marked his loyal plaything.

Curving her hips as she rode her orgasm, a dazed smile crossed her lips as Homelander kissed her so lovingly, as his hands eager to explore her curves, giggling as Butcher lifted himself to kiss her body the moment Homelander pulled out.

Feeling the warmth enveloping from inside and out.

“My turn…” He mumbles into her chest and Homelander catches it, unable to control his amusement– get in the bed you cunt.”

Homelander jumped into the bed, his knees a little weak at first.

Ashley almost falling into the ground as Butcher gets her off of him, he was eager to fuck Homelander, staring with her mouth dropped as Butcher took one look at the younger man and took a dildo from the spread, giving it a few licks.

He took the head of the pink toy towards the Supe’s mouth.

“Make it nice and wet for daddy because that’s all you’re gonna get from me.” His voice so low and guttural.

Homelander doesn’t hesitate taking the toy into his mouth, spooking the older man by his eagerness.

Watching him as he hollows his cheeks, watching him attentively as his tongue brushes his fingers, licking every nook with such technique Butcher almost threw the toy aside and shoved his cock into those thin lips, his free hand pulling at Homelander’s nipple, delighted to hear the man moan loudly as he pulled at the sensitive nub.

Homelander took the toy out with a wet pop, his hand already looking for the real thing.

“I rather have this” he stroked him– let me see what made my Ashley betray me.”

“Oh you’ll see.” That was more threat than flirt she noted.

Butcher wanted to record this for prosterity, the sight of his blue eyes rolling back into his skull as he fucked his mouth thoroughly, pre cum and spit bubbling in the corners of his lips, old cum spilling from his nose, and lose pubes stuck to his face, but Butcher didn’t allow him to stop sucking him, always reaching the throat, glad to feel it tightened around him, glad to see his hands wanting freedom but those glazed eyes were too good to watch.

Wanting to always have this image of Homelander playing with his nipples, pulling on them until they were pink and puffy, and crying as Ashley gave him a lazy blow-job, glad to see the twitching cock begging for more friction and kisses.

The sight of the most loved man in America, covered in cum, all flushed and needy, his hair just a complete mess– that made this whole ordeal worth it for Butcher and Ashley.

Homelander was pinned to the bed, his body shuddering, he whimpered as the two bastards teamed up against him, it had been an experiment, dragging his nails on his back as he fucked him with the vibrating toy, Homelander flounder, biting on the sheets as Butcher teased his sensitive skin.

He had been foolish to undress, to expose himself, Butcher had thought it was a powerplay, to make himself appear harmless and approachable, to make Butcher comfortable with the idea of fucking him… and it probably was but now Homelander wished he would stop, that they both would stop, the moment she touched his sides he was begging her to stop, but Butcher wouldn’t let her, licking his chest, and sucking on his nipple rolling her tongue on the swollen nub.

His skin prickly and hot and the light in his eyes blinking back and forth as Butcher pressed another toy into his entrance as his chapped hand massaged his member, he clung to Ashley as she came up to kiss him, as Butcher teased him more and more, as he grazed his skin with those jagged nails.

“Just fuck me please!!” He begged.

His skin had betrayed him, punishing him for taking the suit off, for being so bold.

Butcher grinned licking his lips, watching the tears building in the corners of his eyes, the unbelievable sight of Homelander fucking himself on those toys but wanting more, Ashley looked back at Butcher feeling sorry for the blond, and eager to see this play out.

“I guess I am soft.”

He took the toys out, watching it gape and beg for him, Butcher gave himself a couple strokes.

And the man almost cried when he finally felt Butcher inside him.

Butcher was rough. squeezing at him, slapping his ass, pushing him down and lifting him.

If he slowed down Homelander would roll his hips back at him, biting down on his arm, staining the sheets with his blood as Butcher marked him.

The sound filled the room as Butcher pounded him. 

The two had been so consumed with each other that Butcher had ignored the other person in the room, surprised when Ashley came behind him, teasing the wet entrance with her perfectly manicured fingers.

“Let me help you out, baby.”

Butcher felt the tip of something big pressing against him.

A nervous smile crossed his lips, and all he could do was adjust the position.

Guess he couldn’t complain about being too spoiled.

Homelander grinding himself in the front, kissing Butcher, his hand pulling on the older man drowning on his tongue, it didn’t matter if it was Butcher or anyone else, he wanted to feel loved no matter how twisted it was, no matter if Ashley helped the gentleman keep up.

Butcher gave up.

Relenting to the pair.

Never did he imagine he would be so drunk on Homelander, unable to stop himself from biting and licking at the man’s neck, letting him crook his neck in every angle he could to get a taste of the older man, he tasted so clean– only now had he began to sweat, even the rare salt tasted sweet, looking at his enemy reduced to nothing but a man controlled by nothing but hunger, his hair messy and stuck to his forehead, his eyes glowing back and forth but so loving and sweet, this was somebody else’s wearing an enemy’s face, now there was some meek man looking at him with pure adoration.

This must've been a taste of heaven, Homelander thought.

Feeling Ashley, tug and pull at Butcher's hair, squeezing his sides and biting whenever, she was mad with power as she fucked him harder than her hips would prefer, but she wouldnt slow down no matter how much pain it caused, not when she was so close to the edge, when her pussy was squeezing so hard.

Billy cursed falling into the crook of John's neck.

“Please cum inside me” Homelander cried into Butcher’s ear.

Butcher let the pleasure take the lead, let Ashley fuck him into her orgasm and let Homelander wrung him dry.

William melted into the blond’s arms, melted into their kiss as his cock charged into him– filling him with his thick hot seed, Homelander could feel his cum travel inside, coating him, feeling his feeble attempts to breed him, glad it was Butcher doing this so boldly.

Ashley cursed behind his back, dropping behind him satiated and exhausted, enjoying the heat coming from Butcher’s, listening to his heartbeat, swayed by his breathing.

The woman took it out, falling to his side looking genuinely happy with her life.

Shifting closer wanting to stay warm, Homelander stretched his arm offering her space, as Butcher took to one side.

She took her place by his side, the man was a hot water bottle in winter, perfect for any cold night, at this moment with his messy hair and his tired eyes this wasn’t her terrifying boss… this was just a hot guy she worked for. 

“Give me a minute before it’s your turn,” he said, trying to catch his breath.

“I’m too old for this, you two have fun.” Butcher spoke too exhausted to move from the spot, his hips painfully sore.

Homelander could only offer a placid smile.

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry about your hips… daddy.” he said with a short laugh.

Butcher would’ve loved to rest, to fall asleep and begin his plan but those two had too much pent-up bullshit to deal with.

Ashley seemed over the moon as the supe showed her what it was like to fuck the world’s strongest and fastest man, drooling as he fucked her and stuffed her spare empty hole with one of her toys, pulling on the toy as he trusted inside her with his actual being, being stuffed so compeltely by his cum and her toys she wanted to be left empty... Homelander wanted one thing and that was for this woman to understand that she was owned.

Fighting the exhaustion drifting in and out of consciousness, Butcher would wake to his penis being kissed and licked, Homelander sucking with gentle force, wafting in the flavor, savoring his precum and his own leftover taste, his hand pulled harshly on the scalp letting himself be lost in the feeling, enjoying the long wet tongue exploring William as the redhead joining him seconds later.

There wouldn’t be an inch the two weren’t enjoying.

In a lost second Homelander would mount him, fucking himself as Ashley squeezed at his chest and grazed her teeth on his shoulders.

He could only smirk at the sight of Homelander… at the drool on his chin, and his lost stare.

He could only smirk as the man felt forward covering them both with holy milk, as Butcher’s seed was cleaned out of him by her tongue.

The night became too heavy for the trio.

Butcher had only one thought in his mind but as Homelander nuzzled his side, wanting to feel him as he slept, as Ashley wrapped herself from behind him, Butcher postponed his plans… just for a night.

One night wouldn’t hurt.

By morning they all would realize the enormity of what they had done… the magnanimity of their actions, he thought.

Instead…

There she was cooing, looking refreshed and delighted, she shushed at Butcher as he woke up groggy and sore, the man looked down gaining awareness, remembering what had transpired.

One look and he was more than just awake and sober.

Homelander latched on her breast, sucking shamelessly, suthering as she caressed his ear, his other hand softly massaging his free breast, well aware of the milk spilling as he gave light squeezes.

Bliss.

That’s all he could feel, the taste all consuming, all divine, his body reborn as he enjoyed the taste of her, Ashley had only done so by accident, joking as he stared at the milk he had accidentally managed to squeeze out from her moments before while titty fucking, he had come and almost passed out to the sight of his cock covered in milk, coming so hard he had cringed and cried for how good he felt-- instead of runnign away Ashley hadn’t hesitated to showered him with affections as she moved upwards... offering him what he had dreamed off...as his tongue took the soft pink nipple into his mouth, he smiled.

Quivering as he took those first few gulps, as he squeezed her nipple with his tongue and found gold.

Wanting more and Ashley was glad to provide.

This was all he had ever hoped for… feeling the swollen bud on his lips… savoring every drop as the woman cooed and caressed him with all the loving tenderness she reserved for her child just now lended to him, seeing him like this brought an euphoria unlike anything before, seeing him so small and needy, whining as she adjusted herself to help him feed, seeing his nose nuzzle and press on her chest as he seeked her out… to know she could exert so much power over him with just a simple action, was a rush.

Homelander was in heaven squeezed between the two lovers, Butcher smirking to himself as he squeezed the man’s side, knowing he could use this ammo for the rest of his life.

Then the baby woke up.

Somehow it had slept peacefully the entire night, and Homelander could smell the reason for her interruption, he cried as she parted promising to come back, Butcher took to homelander mockingly offering his chest as a pacifier, staring at him with lost blue eyes before taking on the offer afraid that Butcher would change his mind.

He squeezed at those big beefy pecs seeking nourishment but finding nothing, Butcher drowning in the wanton of Homelander’s, how much the man wanted his mouth to be filled, sucking on fingers that dare try to part him from his comfort, it was strange but refreshingly good sensation for William.

Butcher would think about escaping another day… This was something he could use against him.

A trap designed by its victim, so he smiled and copied Ashley.

Homelander rested… happy, content, eager to wake up later, knowing that he had done a good job teaching them that they belonged to him.