#*finger guns* anyway i'll go back playing now

[blitzyn]

prospect

toji fushiguro x m!reader

request: none

a/n -> sighs and explodes i need this man injected in my blood right NOW. nobody will be able to convince me that this man doesn’t have a breeding kink. sometimes i forget im writing for real people on a real platform and it jump scares me when people comment on my work. but in a good way ofc i love seeing people’s thoughts on my stuff. ANYWAYS. REQS.

wc -> 4.7k words of filth LMAO

cw -> anal fingering, anal sex, spit as lube, throat fucking, using “pussy” and “cunt” as a synonym, mild impact play, breeding kink, mirror sex, finger hooking, bondage, begging, brief gun play, when i say “little” i mean that in a condescending sorta way and not bc the reader is described to be petite and tiny, not beta read obv

"You're a tricky one, I'll give you that," is the first thing the man before you said. It'd been quite a while since the first time the two of you met in a dingy bar hidden in the sketchier parts of town. He hadn't been trying to kill you then - he was but a fellow patron eager to ruin his liver. Originally, he had a strange gut feeling about you. Like a pretty thing like you wasn't all it seemed, but he shrugged it off after a well-placed look from you offering to buy a couple more rounds.

So when he's given another job, the first thing he does is laugh. He didn't really mean it at first, but really, the irony was hilarious. The guy he nearly got to fuck was his current target: [Name] [L.Name], a rising Jujutsu Sorcerer. He obviously wasn't as strong as the esteemed Gojo Satoru or Geto Suguru, but he was advancing a little faster than many would've liked.

"Thanks. I tried," you replied, seeming much too relaxed for a man about to be assassinated. You were currently stuck on the floor with your arms tied behind your back and your legs bound together by plain, old, ordinary rope. You were a little embarrassed, truthfully, to have been caught by such a mundane trap like this.

You struggled against your restraints a bit, sighing in defeat when you only served to remind yourself just how stuck you were. "These are pretty secure," you started, giving the man before you a laidback smirk. "You experienced?"

Toji gave you a quizzical look for a moment before breaking out in an amused grin, resting his handgun against his shoulder. He definitely wasn't expecting his target to start flirting with him instead of pleading for his life like he was used to. But he'll entertain you for a while. "You could say that."

You huffed through your nose, your eyes lazily flitting around the room. You were making your way back inside the abandoned building you chose to hide in when you suddenly found yourself tied up. It took you a moment to realize you couldn't move when he appeared in front of you, but even less to recognize him as the man you almost got to sleep with. "I would've loved to have you tie me up back then, but this wasn't really what I was thinking about."

"Your phone's a real cockblock, huh?" He chuckled lightly, in an almost mocking manner from what you managed to detect in his voice. "Can't even begin to imagine how long you've had to go without gettin' laid."

You rolled your eyes like he wasn't only there to kill you and get his money. "Don't get me started. There's always something new I have to kill every fuckin' second. My boss thinks it's great training to go out whenever I can."

Right. Technically, you weren't a fully-fledged Sorcerer. You had more of a vigilante-esque vibe to you. You hadn't attended either Jujutsu High School in Tokyo or Kyoto as well, only taught by your family and experiences. Not that that really mattered anyway. You fought, you got strong, and now someone put a hit on you.

You sighed, shifting your body to a more comfortable position before tilting your head back against the wall. “This is the part where I beg for my life, right?” You questioned rhetorically, with an almost bored expression on your face before your eyes lit up with an idea. “I’m not too good at that, but I am good at begging for something else.”

Toji raised an eyebrow in intrigue, unable to fight off the grin at the obvious implication. He didn’t stop you from shamelessly checking him out, but he cut your ogle session short regardless.

“Yeah? Care to elaborate?” He made his way closer, crouching in front of you to get a better view of your face. He knew what you were asking for. He just wanted to know if you’d follow through with it.

Maybe it was the adrenaline making you bold, knowing that he could easily kill you with the pull of a trigger—or maybe it was just because he was really fucking hot. With a quick, obvious glance to his crotch (you could see the imprint of his dick through his sweatpants), you spoke clearly. “I want you to fuck me.”

He liked how forward you were, how unafraid you were to say what you wanted. He swiped his tongue over his lips and nearly laughed at how your eyes darted downwards to watch it. “You call that beggin’?” He taunted, raising his arm to press the tip of his gun against your chin to tilt your head up. “Do it right.”

A shudder ran through your body at his demand, leaving a trail of heat that settled right into your groin. You felt hyper aware of everything—of the cool metal on your skin, of the faint gunpowder scent emanating from the barrel, of your heartbeat thrumming so hard you briefly wondered if he could hear it.

“Oh, please, Mr. Fushiguro,” you whined, staring up at him through your lashes pleadingly. You tried to squeeze your thighs together as you squirmed, attempting to provide your hardening dick friction. “Please fuck me. I’ve been thinking about this whole time. I need it so much.”

“Well, aren’t you a confident little thing,” he remarked with a thoughtful hum, carefully inspecting your reactions. “But what makes you think I won’t just kill you and get my money?”

“Because you haven’t yet,” you replied with a smug undertone in your voice, like you figured him all out. Although, when he dragged his gun up towards your lips, a brief wave of fear washed down your body, settling deep in your chest.

“Really? That’s all you’re going off of?” He tilted his head, watching you through the dark curtain of hair that fell over his piercing eyes. “That’s cute.” He held his finger over the trigger, teasingly flexing it before relaxing just as fast. He found it funny how your confident facade slipped away the moment you remembered that you weren’t talking to a casual friend—that the Sorcerer Killer himself was staring you down the barrel of his gun. But, apparently, that’s what got you all hot and bothered.

“I didn’t think you’d be this desperate.” His scarred lips curled upwards in a predatory grin as he nudged the tip of his gun against your mouth, prying it open. You fought the urge to squirm when he pushed it further, jaw straining, but you tried your best to comply. “You seemed all mysterious ‘n’ unassuming back at the bar. What happened to that? Got me feelin’ like I got the wrong person with the way you’re actin’.”

You tried to shake your head while a garbled noise left your throat, but he kept you firmly in place as he pushed it as far as he could go. Even as you squinted, it was hard not to practically eyefuck him where you sat. Your watery irises trailed over the length of his arm, tracing the bulging veins that patterned over his forearm, dipping back underneath his skin before reappearing in his thick bicep. His shirt did little to hide his chest, squeezing in just the right places to render any woman jealous.

You couldn’t stop your gaze from wandering down, down towards his legs, zeroing in on the dick print he so obviously flaunted like a trophy. Your mouth watered, suddenly finding it hard to swallow. You slid your tongue over the rough metal, imagining that it was his cock stretching your eager throat wide open; imagining the salty taste of his precum, of the scent of his musk, of—

“My eyes’re up here, pretty boy,” he interrupted, pressing the gun up against your palate to snap you out of your stupor and avert your gaze. “If you’re gonna deny bein’ a slut, at least act like it.”

He pulled it out of your drooling mouth, wiping the string of saliva off on your cheek before setting it on the floor with a dull thud. Your face was messy, chest heaving up and down as you panted, expectantly waiting for him to continue like a lost puppy.

“You’re so damn easy,” he commented teasingly, reaching down to palm his cock through his pants. It throbbed under his touch, leaking precum and straining against the fabric. “If I’da known all it took for you to get all nice ‘n’ compliant f’me was a dick down your throat, I’d have my money by now.” There was a hint of honesty to his voice that you couldn’t even find in yourself to protest.

“Please…” you breathlessly whined, trying to writhe out of your binds, but it was tied too tightly around your body to free yourself. “I want it. Stop messing with me.”

“I know.” He reached down to shift you onto your knees, steadying you with a firm hand on the back of your neck. You watched him slide his free hand under his pants to pull his thick cock out, eyes fixated on the leaking tip. He wrapped it around the shaft and leisurely jerked himself off, the wet sounds of his precum sliding along the shaft mixing in with your labored breaths and his quiet groans.

Finally, after what felt like decades, he shuffled forward just enough to press himself against your lips, finding little need to nudge his way inside when you so eagerly parted them for him. You let out a pleased noise at the taste of his precum, beginning to squint and fight the urge to gag when he refused to stop until your nose was buried in his pubes. He held you there for a moment, enjoying the sight of your throat bulging to accommodate his cock.

“You’re takin’ me in so easily,” he purred, sighing in satisfaction at the feeling of your tongue tracing over a prominent vein, making him twitch in your mouth. “Is this what you do? Use your body to live a little longer? 'Cause I gotta say, whatever you're doin' is really payin' off."

You visibly preened at his praise, feeling your dick strain against the fabric of your pants. He let you move at your own pace, watching you hollow your cheeks and slide and bob your head up and down. He was thick and long and made your jaw ache in the best way, utterly infatuated with his scent, with his taste, with the way he let you go at your own pace—but you knew better. You knew that he could easily take that control away from you and fuck your face.

You kind of wished he did, honestly.

With a bit of effort, you pulled away from his cock, breathing heavily. Your voice was shaky but it was firm, determined to get what you wanted. “Fuck my throat,” you demanded, staring up at him through your lashes. He gave you an intrigued smile, clearly pleased with your eagerness to be used like a toy.

“You sure? ‘Cause I’m not stoppin’ til I cum,” he warned. He hardly gave you enough time to reply before he held the base of his cock, gently tapping the tip against your slick lips to get you to open up wide again, obviously unconcerned with your response. “But if you really insist, then who am I to say no to a pretty thing like you?”

He adjusted his stance, towering over you with both his hands atop your head. He allowed you to take a deep breath before pulling you to him just as he shoved his cock back down your throat. You were still unused to him, nearly choking at the sudden movement, feeling tears pool along your lashes. You could’ve sworn his musk was an actual aphrodisiac. It was all you could smell, filling up your nostrils to render your mind a pathetically fuzzy mess.

“Thaaaat’s it,” he drawled out, staring you down with enough heat in his eyes to practically glue you to the floor. You weren’t even sure if you’d get up and leave if he gave you the chance to. Probably not, frankly. Not with the way his strong hands so easily kept you in place, nor with how he strained your jaw—infatuated with every inch and vein and his salty precum. “Take it all, baby.”

He chuckled to himself, not bothering to hide the condescension in his voice. “But I didn’t need to tell you that, huh? Is this muscle memory takin’ over?” Despite his words, his brows were furrowed, focused on thrusting his hips, stoking the rising fire in his abdomen. His rhythmic groans were music to your ears, mixing in with your wet gags and the faint sound of his balls slapping your chin.

“Fuck,” he panted, taking one hand off to wipe your hair off of your forehead and get a look at your watery, unfocused eyes. It sent a heat down his spine that made his cock jolt at the sight of your blissed out face. “You’re so damn tight… gonna make me cum.”

“Is that what you want?” He grunted, digging his fingertips into your skin. “Y’think it’s what you deserve?” For a moment, you were worried he was going to stop. But he didn’t really, instead he kept you still, holding you at a distance to make sure you didn’t accidentally pass out. “I wanna hear you beg for it.”

You blinked your tears away and looked up at him, squinting, confused when he hadn’t let you go yet. It took you a second to piece together what he wanted of you, and felt the burn of embarrassment trickle down your spine and settle into your chest when you did. He wanted you to beg with his cock in your mouth. You were quiet, unsure how to respond without choking and coughing into next week.

“C’mon,” he persisted, his scarred lips lifting in a grin. “I know a little slut like you can do it.”

With a deep breath, you attempted to get your words out through muffled sounds that very vaguely sounded like sentences. It was humiliating—letting him use you to entertain himself like this, but it was an exhilarating feeling that made your cock twitch and throb, aching to be touched.

“Sorry, what was that?” He questioned mockingly, expression laced with faux concern. “Do you mind repeating that?”

You paused, staring up at him pleadingly, but when that didn’t seem to work, you tried again. Drool seeped out the corners of your lips, trailing down your chin. It was hard to breathe and form coherent thoughts. Your cock throbbed and ached to be touched, finding your pants to be uncomfortably suffocating.

“Was that so hard?” He questioned rhetorically as he tugged your face close again, savoring the feeling of your throat squeezing around his dick before beginning to fuck it. He groaned when he felt you run your tongue over the veins, the vibrations of your voice sending heat through his body that he eagerly chased.

He swore under his breath, panting, focused on the tightening coil in his abdomen. “Shit—I’m about to—fuck—cum.”

You moaned when you felt him still, pressing your face into his pelvis to make sure every drop of his cum went down your throat. It was difficult to swallow, letting your eyes flutter shut until he was finished. Your vision was a bit blurry when he finally decided to pull away, leaving you gasping and panting.

“I want—I need you to fuck me,” you slurred, desire flashing brightly in your eyes. Your voice was raw and hoarse and raspy, but there was no hiding your desperation. “Please. I need it so bad it fucking hurts. Please, Fushiguro.”

“I just got done cumming down your throat and you’re already askin’ for more?” He chuckled condescendingly, reaching out to swipe the pad of his thumb along your chin to gather the mix of saliva cum. He brought it to your lips, watching you wrap them around his finger and suck the fluids off his skin. “You needy whore. You’re lucky I’m not in any rush right now.”

With a swift hand, he untied the rope holding your legs together to lead you to a different spot, confident that you wouldn’t make a break for it. Not that you could nor wanted to, anyways.

The mirror before you was dusty and cracked, but it still served its purpose well. He kicked your legs apart and brought you back down to your knees, lowering himself behind you with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You nearly came on the spot when he squeezed your aching cock, hips jerking needily, but he let go in the blink of an eye to unzip your pants and bring them down far enough to expose your ass. He brought two fingers to your lips and dipped them inside your mouth with his other hand, coating them with your saliva rather haphazardly.

He swiftly brought them back down, running them over your balls and perineum teasingly, grinning at your sharp intake of breath. He slid the pads of them over your hole, just barely pushing them through to feel the resistance give way before pulling them back out.

“I swear to god, I’ll—“ you tried to threaten, only to be cut off by a whorish moan that Toji managed to tear from your lips when he shoved his fingers inside you. They pressed against your prostate, firm and unrelenting, rubbing it just the slightest bit to keep you reeling. The sudden stretch fucking burned as you clamped down on him like a vice, wincing and groaning.

“You’ll what?” He urged, eyes fixated on your face, watching every single muscle twitch, noticing the way your cock spurt a fresh stream of precum down the throbbing shaft. “C’mon, don’t get all shy on me now. What were you saying?”

He thrust his fingers in and out slowly, emphasizing the wet squelching sounds of your asshole. You could feel his breaths brushing against your heated skin, sending shivers up and down your spine that ended in your fingertips. Your knees ached and your arms were growing numb from being tied back for so long but you figured you could ignore it for a little while longer if it meant you’d get what you wanted. His dick, namely.

“I’ll—agh, fuck—I’ll…” you trailed off, hardly able to form a coherent sentence with the way he massaged your prostate so perfectly. “Just… just shut up,” you muttered finally, breathless and unfocused as you stared at the spot you connected from the reflection in the old mirror. A subtle feeling of embarrassment settled in your heaving chest when you heard the raspy sound of his chuckle.

“Is that it?” He taunted, locking eyes with you. His free hand slid upwards, teasing your nipples through your shirt to watch you squirm. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight. I’m startin’ to question whether or not you’re really some hotshot Sorcerer.”

It was hard to refute him when you looked the way you did—all messy and disheveled and desperate, hard for the man supposed to kill you. You were completely unlike yourself hardly half an hour ago, but you barely gave a shit. How could you when the hottest man you’ve ever seen was behind you, fingerfucking your eager hole? Chances like these don’t come often to you, that’s for sure.

You shivered and moaned, leaning back against his chest. Your hips practically moved on their own accord, thighs flexing to keep yourself upright as you tried to fuck yourself on his thick digits. Toji could see the way your eyes unfocused and glossed over with understimulated tears, frustrated and horribly pent-up.

He gave your prostate a quick jab, firm enough to intensify the heated coil in your belly, but too fast to savor. He wasn’t planning on giving in to you so easily as he avoided your sensitive spot, instead moving his fingers in a scissoring motion to stretch you out.

“God—stop doing that,” you pleaded. You felt like an open book, unable to stop yourself from furrowing your eyebrows in annoyance or conceal the painstakingly obvious glint of hunger in your pupil-blown irises.

“Quit whinin’ and maybe I’ll consider it,” he murmured gruffly, enraptured by the way you writhed and squirmed and looked just downright pathetic. You both knew he wouldn’t, not when all the others he’s fucked couldn’t hold a candle to your pliant little body. You knew why he was there in the first place, but still, you remained there on your knees even when he untied them.

You nearly let out a sob when he curled his fingers again, offering you the barest of touches to your prostate that sent liquid fire coursing through your veins.

“Fuck, please,” you begged, yet again. You didn’t know much of this you could take or how long it’d be until he caved. God, was it so much to ask for a man to fuck you stupid?!

“I want your cock inside me so bad, fucking me fast ‘n’ hard ‘n’ deep,” you slurred, hardly able to maintain even the barest shred of dignity. You looked into his deep, green eyes through the mirror’s reflection, hoping he’d relent.

“Yeah? Y’want me in this slutty pussy?” He purred, sliding his slick fingers out of your twitching hole to give it a sharp slap. You jolted just as a spurt of precum slid down your hard cock, leaking onto your clothed, heaving abdomen. He chuckled breathlessly as he leisurely rubbed your puffy rim with the pad of a finger. “You should’ve just said so.”

He wiped his fingers off on the back of your shirt, offering you an oblivious shrug when you glared at him through the mirror. Your knees ached when he had you lean forward a little, placing your more of your weight on the poor joints as he reached down to quickly jerk himself off before tapping the tip of his dick on your asshole one, two, three quick times.

It felt like he was splitting you apart when he finally decided to push through after spitting on your hole, groaning at the way you squeezed around him tighter than a damn virgin. It hurt like a bitch. Of course it did—you made him rush and he was using less than ideal lube, but, God, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t feel so fucking good.

You watched him lean back a little and hold you by the ropes binding your arms together, rolling his hips experimentally, only to grind his cockhead into your prostate so deliciously you saw stars. A searing heat enveloped your body, blinding you with white that took you far too long to come down from. Opening your eyes (you didn’t even realize you closed them), you instantly spotted your twitching cock drooling cum onto the floor. Fuck. He didn’t even start and you came.

“That was so damn fast.” He couldn’t be bothered to stop the hint of a laugh from leaving his throat. With his free hand, he reached down and gave your throbbing dick a squeeze, stroking it with a tight grip to milk out the rest of your cum.

You shuddered and trembled, biting your lip to stifle your moans. He let go to stuff two of his slick fingers in your mouth, careless with how deep he forced them in. Not that you really minded as you swirled your tongue around his skin, readily cleaning it off. You locked eyes, keeping your expression firm in a weak attempt to regain even a sliver of composure when he suddenly moved, giving you a quick, harsh thrust that nearly knocked the air out of your lungs.

He shifted his fingers, curling them as they pulled on your cheek, tugging at the flesh until he forces your mouth wide open. You couldn’t stop your tongue from lolling out, jaw slack as you drooled and whined and cried every time he rammed his thick cock into your eager fuckhole. He was relentless—pounding into you fast and hard and deep, just like you begged for so prettily.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, digging his fingertips into the flesh of your hip hard enough to leave bruises, arms flexing to yank you back as soon as he pulled out. “Your pussy’s so damn tight,” he panted, brows furrowed in focus, relishing in the sound of his hips slapping your ass and your whorish moans. “M’gonna make sure your messy little cunt remembers my cock by the time I’m finished with you.”

“Uh-huh, mhm,” you nodded, hands itching to grab onto his biceps, his back, something to ground yourself while he churned your insides to mush. It was nigh impossible to think or breathe or speak, but it felt so fucking good.

“Awh, look at yourself,” he cooed, his voice slightly jumpy as he let go of your mouth to roughly pat your cheek, forcing you out of your stupor to make you stare at your reflection. “Are you out of it already? Should I stop?” He questioned, his raspy voice laced with faux concern.

“No! N-No,” you stammered, finding it difficult to comprehend what he was saying until moments later, alerted by the word “stop”. “Don’t stop! Ohh, oh god, please don’t stop!”

You’re so, so sensitive and so full, and you can feel him losing his rhythm. His cock is heavy in your stomach and you swear through your addled brain it’s weighing you down as a trail of precum connects your heated bodies together, frothing between your thighs and his balls.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he grunted, gritting his teeth. He could feel the burning coil in his abdomen intensify with each passing second, and suddenly he’s speeding up, pistoning into you with loud and sloppy thrusts. His green eyes are locked on your swollen and puffy hole sucking him in with a vice grip, watching his cock slide in and out, in and out, over and over again until you’re cumming hard, shaking and convulsing.

“That’s it,” he growls, the sound low and deep. It went straight into your stomach, sparks lighting up under your skin as your hips jerk, unsure whether you want to endure the building overstimulation or move away. “M’gonna cum so deep inside your pretty little pussy I’ll knock you up,” he murmured in your ear, dragging a canine down your neck to clamp his teeth down on the flesh. “Y’want that? To be my breeding bitch?”

You sobbed, unable to answer, but he didn’t need one. Not when your body spoke for you.

He fucked the air out of your lungs one, two, three more times, feeling his balls tighten until he finally came, spilling his cum so deep inside you, you were sure it’d stay there for weeks. You moaned, savoring the warmth that spread through your body with each spurt of his cum that coated your velvety insides, trying to catch your breath before you had to move.

Toji sighed in satisfaction, pulling out after a few moments. He watched your fucked-out hole clench around nothing as it leaked with his seed, spreading one of your asscheeks to get a better view before giving it a final pat.

You didn’t realize he cut the ropes holding your arms behind your back until you nearly fell face-first onto the floor, catching yourself with your numb hands.

“Ow… fuck,” you cursed at the sharp stinging sensation that ran up your arms, shaking them uselessly in an attempt to restore the blood flow faster.

“You were better than I thought you’d be,” he hummed, getting up to fix his clothes. He grabbed his handgun from off the ground, holding it against his shoulder as he stared you down. “But you have three days. Make ‘em count.”

You weren’t oblivious to know that he was giving you a three-day recovery period before he began hunting you again. Even then, you couldn’t stop the shiver of excitement from running through your spine at the prospect of seeing him again.

You grinned, breathless and shaky but confident nonetheless. It was unlikely he’d fuck you once he found you, but a man could dream. "I will."

cross-posted on ao3

[angelltheninth]

hi hiiii your husband!Gun hc brighten up my day ╰(*°▽°*)╯

anyways may I request a Gun drabble with him seriously bruised from fighting and he took that excuse to see you for you to take care of his wounds (bc he knew that you'd worried for him, lol that bastard) and he kept asking disrupting questions for you to say "yes" while you were disinfecting his wounds until the final question of "will you be my gf" came out o((>ω< ))o

thank you and enjoy your vacation (👉ﾟヮﾟ)👉

My vacation was so good! Had lots of fun and had a good rest.

Pairing: Gun Park x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, injuries, blood, kind of a love confession, teasing, becoming a couple

A/N: He wouldn't need to play mindgames with me. I'd just say yes no questions asked.

Gun grinned at you as you applied bandages to his bruises and bloody fists. As soon as you heard the sound of such heavy knocks on the door you knew who to expect but you didn't expect to see him so beat up. What was even more infuriating than his injuries, or almost as, was the way he made himself at home on your bed and waited patiently.

"Are you still mad at me?" He asked and you tightened his bandage so hard he winced a bit. "I'll take that as a yes?"

"Yes. You're crazy, why do you always come here anyway, at least go to the hospital when you get hurt."

He scoffed. A moment later he saw you giving him a worried look. "I'm tough. You know I can handle myself right? I'd worry more about the guys I left broken and bleeding in the street."

Listening to him talk about his fight didn't put your mind at ease at all.

"Yes, I know you can take care of yourself. But right now I'm the one doing the caretaking. I'm not saying I don't want to help you get better. I... Gun... promise me you'll at least try to get into less trouble." Somehow you felt like that wasn't gonna happen. This was Gun you were talking to after all.

"I could think about it. If... you agree to be my girlfriend?" He knew you were too focused on your work to properly think about what he just asked.

"Yes, okay, but you... huh?!" As your voice rose in pitch you felt his rough and bruised fingers tilt your chin up. He grinned down at you, his lip bleeding but his face showing no discomfort at all. "You... I didn't-"

"Oh but you did. I'm not letting you take it back. Now I don't have to go to the hospital, I've got a cute girlfriend to take care of me instead." He pressed his thumb across your bottom lip before cupping your warm cheek.

This man was unbelievable, using his injuries to ask you out, to ask you to be his girlfriend. "If you break your bones I'm breaking up with you."

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 26 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: In the aftermath of the proposal, Bradley wants to make sure all three of you are on the same page. And as happy as you are, you're still having a hard time deciding how to best merge your past with your future.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst and swearing

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley held you in the grass for a long time while you clutched that baseball in your hand. He couldn't remember another time he felt so calm as Everett ran around in the grass tossing a ball up in the air and catching it. 

"Will you move in now?" you asked, setting your heart covered baseball in the grass and running your fingers along Bradley's mustache and stubble. "Ev and I both really want you to."

"Yeah, Kitten. I'll move in," he promised. "Right after the three of us have a conversation about expectations, okay? It's really important to me that we're all on the same page."

"Oh my god," you groaned, crawling up his body to get better access to his lips. "How are you this perfect?"

"I just needed to get my priorities straight," he said between kisses. "I never meant to hurt you like I did before, you know that, right? I just never in a million years thought that I'd meet anyone like you and Ev and fall in love so hard."

You just whimpered and snuggled up on him again. But once Everett started bugging to play baseball again, you pulled Bradley to his feet. This time Bradley put on the catcher's gear and let Everett pitch to you, which was honestly pretty funny. 

"Am I good enough to play on the rec league, too?" you asked as you missed another pitch.

"No," Bradley and Everett replied in unison as you laughed. 

"But that's okay, Mommy! Bradley loves you anyway even though you aren't that good at baseball."

"That's true," Bradley replied, removing the mask when they were done playing. "Being good at baseball was not a prerequisite. She just needed to understand and appreciate our love of the Phillies," he added, giving Everett a high five.

"Can we come to your game?" Everett asked, eyes wide as Bradley scooped him up along with his gear bag. You carried the bucket of balls back to the Bronco with your special ball right on the top of the pile. 

"Kiddo, you can come to as many games as you want. And later today or tomorrow, we can talk about me moving into your house, okay?"

"Okay!"

"But I'm not going to stay in the extra bedroom," he said seriously. "So we can talk about that too." He wanted Everett to understand that he wasn't going anywhere, and that he was going to marry you as soon as he could. As soon as you wanted to. 

Once he got Everett buckled in, he helped you load everything into the back. You had some grass stains on your shirt, and your clothes were all rumpled, and Bradley was so in love with all of it.

"Come here," he whispered with a smile as you slipped into his arms right where you belonged. "Can we get married tomorrow?" You laughed and he buried his face against your neck. "Please, Kitten? I'm dying for it now!"

"Bradley, we've been engaged for an hour."

"That's a pretty long time," he replied, enjoying the feel of your hips in his hands. 

"We can talk about this later." You giggled and kissed him until Everett started whining that he was starving for lunch.

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

The Independence Day party at Maverick's hangar was in full swing by the time the three of you arrived in the Bronco. There was almost nowhere to park, but Bradley found a spot next to Bob's truck. 

"Bob came?" you asked, eyeing his truck. "I think Molly's working today. Something about double overtime."

"I don't know why she didn't just take the day off," Bradley mused, killing the engine. "Does she really need the extra pay? It's not like Bob isn't her glorified sugar daddy now."

"What's a sugar daddy?" Everett asked from the backseat.

You glared at Bradley and muttered, "Yeah, Bradley. Try explaining that one to a seven year old."

He had the decency to look a little concerned before turning back to look at your son. "Uh... I think that Bob bought a lot of candy for your Aunt Molly."

"Ohhh," Everett replied. "Yeah, that makes sense, because she likes snacks. Do you think he'd buy some for me, too?"

Bradley cleared his throat and nodded slowly. "I think so. Just as long as you don't call him a sugar daddy," he muttered.

"Ev, why don't you go say hi to Bob and Natasha," you said, pointing out the window. "I see them right there. But don't tell anyone about the baseball ring yet, okay?"

"Okay!" Ev called, and then you and Bradley were alone in the front seat, and you started laughing.

"Really? A sugar daddy?" you asked.

"I'm sorry, Kitten! I'm still new to all this dad stuff."

Your lips parted in a soft smile as you unbuckled your seatbelt and crawled toward your fiance. "But you're already really good at it," you told him when he welcomed you onto his lap. "It's like you were tailor-made for us."

You kissed along Bradley's neck and he pulled you snug against him. "The two of you are perfect for me," he grunted, watching the sunlight catch your diamond ring. "Let's get married soon?"

"Okay," you agreed, your lips teasing his ear. 

"Did Danny ever give you a ring?" he asked, unable to help himself. 

"No. And I should have never married him. He obviously didn't want to but felt obligated to."

"I hate that guy," Bradley growled. "I'll be so much better."

"You already are," you promised him. "But would you mind if we don't tell anyone we're engaged yet?" you asked, and Bradley pulled away from you. He watched you remove your ring and reach for the glovebox. 

"Why not?" he asked, clearly upset as you put the ring inside and closed it.

You quickly placed a dozen little kisses at the corner of his mouth. "I want to tell Molly first. That's all."

"Oh," he replied, nodding as he rubbed his hands along your legs. "Sure, Kitten. We can tell Molly first."

You liked how he said we, like you were all part of a team now.

"I love you, Coach," you whispered, kissing him before you hopped down out of the driver's door and into the hot sunlight. Bradley jumped down behind you with his hand at your back, and he led you toward Everett.

"Mommy! Can we get changed and go play in the splash pad? Please?" he begged just as Nat strolled up and gave Bradley a kiss on the cheek. 

"I'll take him over," she said. "I've already got my bathing suit on, and Mav set up some changing stalls."

"Thanks, Nat," you replied, handing Everett his swim bag. 

"Kitten," Bradley groaned, wrapping his arms around you. "It's killing me not to tell her we're engaged."

You giggled and tucked your hand up inside his shirt. "You can tell her tomorrow, okay? Just let me tell Molly first."

Bradley just melted into your touch. He had his hands all over you the rest of the day as you ate burgers and chatted with everyone. He even ducked inside the tiny changing tent with you, kissing you all over as you tried to put on your leopard print bathing suit.

"I haven't seen this since the tee ball swim party," he groaned, slipping his index and middle fingers underneath the strap at your shoulder and pulling you closer. "I love it when you dress up like a kitten for me."

You bit your lip. "I did wear this to the pool party just so you'd notice it."

"Mmm," he hummed, letting his fingers stroke your nipple through the fabric. "Oh... I noticed it, Baby."

You let his hands slip lower to your hips. "And now, after you move in, I can dress up for you all the time."

"Fuck," he groaned, his lips finding the pulse point in your neck and sucking gently. "Please, let's get married next week."

You laughed softly and shook your head. "We'll talk about it later, Coach. You need to get changed so we can go splash with Ev." Then you brushed his erection softly with your hand before ducking outside. 

When you walked away, you heard him cursing softly, and the smile on your face felt like it was stuck there permanently. You were getting married. A second time. To Bradley. A man who loved your son every bit as much as he loved you. And he wasn't afraid to show it or talk about it. He wasn't afraid to let you know what you meant to him. You had never experienced anything like this before.

"Mommy!" Ev called out, soaking wet and holding up two water balloons.

"Don't you dare!" you told him, but he just held one out to you.

"Let's get Bradley," he whispered, looking past you. When you turned, you saw him heading your way in his swim trunks, pushing his aviators up on his nose. 

You nodded at Everett. "Absolutely." And then you watched as your balloon managed to hit Bradley in the shoulder right after Everett's hit him square in the chest.

Bradley looked up in shock. "Oh, it's on," he growled, and you tried to hide behind Everett as Bradley stormed closer with a playfully angry look on his face. 

"We need more balloons!" Everett screamed, pulling you toward a large bucket filled with them. Then the two of you launched dozens of water balloons at Bradley. Everett's accuracy was a lot better than yours, and Bradley pretended he was getting more and more wounded with each balloon he took to his body.

"You're too good!" he gasped at Everett, dropping to his knees on the splash pad while Everett laughed. Then he ran over and tackled Bradley with a big hug. You could hear Bradley tell him, "Hey, your pitches are looking great, kiddo," while Everett hugged him around the neck. "So proud of you."

"Thanks, Coach," Everett replied, and Bradley kissed him on the top of his head before scooping him up and standing. 

"But I don't know if I can trust the two of you now," Bradley said, squeezing your butt as he walked toward the sprinkler. "Some family you turned out to be. Getting me soaked before I was ready." He walked into the spray of water, and you listened to Everett scream with laughter as Bradley got both of them even more soaked.

Then Nat and Bob joined in, and you wished Molly was here. Because you had to be the one to remind Bob to put on more sunblock in her absence. And you didn't want to text her a picture of your ring, you wanted to tell her in person about it. You wanted her to see it and be excited for you. 

If she had the day off tomorrow, you'd try to stop by after work and tell her. But for now you'd just enjoy the rest of the first day of your engagement. You ran toward the sprinkler and wrapped your arms around Bradley.

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

"That's a familiar sight," Maverick said as the sun was dipping lower in the sky. Bradley gave him a funny look as he held a very sleepy Everett in his arms. "It's just that you look so much like Goose. And Everett looks like he could be your son." The words hit Bradley right in the heart.

"I want him to be," he managed, voice raspy with emotion. 

Mav nodded and grinned before looking at the ground. "You picked a good one." Bradley looked where Mav tilted his head and saw you talking to Bob. "Well, both of them."

He held Everett a little tighter as he slept, head on Bradley's shoulder. "Thanks."

Mav patted him on the back as he took Everett to the Bronco where he started to stir. "Where are we going?" he asked in a sleepy little voice that made Bradley smile.

"Home. You can sleep until we get there. Gonna watch fireworks on the back deck and have a snack."

Everett just nodded and then fell back asleep, his head tipped to the side. Bradley buckled him in and waited patiently for you to finish saying goodbye to Bob. 

"You think he'll be my brother-in-law someday?" you asked with a laugh as you climbed in next to Bradley and glanced back to check on Everett. 

"You know," Bradley said, scratching his chin as he started the engine, "yeah, I do."

"Good," you replied, opening the glove box as Bradley drove down the long drive to the main road and turned toward the sunset. He breathed a sigh of relief as you slid your ring back onto your finger and examined it in the golden light.

"It's so pretty," you whispered, taking Bradley's hand in yours. "Thanks for letting Ev help pick it out."

Bradley scoffed and squeezed your fingers gently. "You think I could have done it without him? Not a chance. I almost texted Molly for final approval."

Your laughter filled the Bronco, and Bradley smiled as he got on the highway toward your house. "She would have ruined the surprise!"

"I figured," he mumbled, kissing your knuckles. "Better to keep it a secret between the boys."

You were quiet for a little while as Bradley drove. Eventually you turned toward him and whispered, "I do think we should get married pretty soon."

"Yes," he agreed. "We're both off on Saturday...."

"Please!" you laughed. "I didn't have a real wedding before. So I'd like to plan something this time. Nothing crazy, but a real wedding would be so nice." Your voice was soft and dreamy. 

"Anything you want, Kitten. Anything. I mean it. I'm already getting the things that are most important to me: you and Ev. So whatever and whenever works for me." 

When Bradley pulled into your driveway and thought about how he'd be living here soon enough, you unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed into his lap.

"Watch it, Kitten," he whispered as you rubbed yourself against him. "We've got company, Baby." 

"I know," you replied softly, kissing his lips. "I just love you so much, and today has been kind of wild, but I want you to know that I can't wait to marry you."

The way your hand slid up to rest over his heart while you kissed him had Bradley ignoring his own caution. He let his lips and mustache trail along your neck as he reached for the button of your shorts.

"Can we go watch fireworks?" Everett asked through a yawn from the backseat. Bradley closed his eyes and sighed, kissing you one more time.

"Yep," he grunted. "It's almost time." Then he carried Everett inside after you unlocked the door. He got both of you settled on the back deck under a blanket, and then he made some popcorn and carried it out just as the first fireworks lit up the sky. 

Bradley sat next to Everett who held the bowl of popcorn. "This was a really good day," Everett said, the colors reflecting in his eyes.

"I loved today," you added, turning to look at Bradley as you ate some popcorn.

"Yeah," Bradley said with a deep sigh. "I got to spend it with my family."

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

Everett was looking a little worse for the wear, snuggled up against Bradley as the fireworks ended. 

"Can we all talk for a minute?" Bradley asked when it was just the three of you sitting quietly under the moon glow. 

"Okay," you agreed as Everett nodded.

"I just wanted to say," Bradley started before pausing for a beat. "Kiddo, I'm going to move in with you and your mom. If that's okay with you."

"Yeah!" Everett cheered, perking up. 

Bradley kissed his forehead. "But I'm not going to move into the extra bedroom, okay? Your mom and I are going to get married, hopefully pretty soon. And I'll move my stuff into her big bedroom."

"Okay," Everertt agreed. "Maybe we can turn the other bedroom into a Phillies room or something."

"Hey, that sounds great," Bradley agreed, laughing as you rolled your eyes. 

You ran your fingers along your son's cheek so that he was looking at you. "Ev, Bradley is going to be part of our family. For real."

"I'm not going anywhere, okay?" Bradley asked, and Everett's gaze snapped back to him. "I'll be around all the time. You understand?"

Everett nodded enthusiastically. "Does that mean you'll be my dad soon?"

Bradley met your eyes, and your heart started pounding. His gaze was questioning, but you weren't sure exactly what you wanted to say here. "He'll be your stepdad, Ev."

Everett still looked a little concerned as he wrapped his arms around Bradley's neck. "Can I call you dad?" he asked Bradley, and you felt tears in your eyes. All you wanted was for your son to have everything he deserved. Your mind was filled with thoughts of Danny and child support and Everett's face in tears.

But Bradley held him tight and nodded against his neck. "If you want to. And if it's okay with your mom."

When Everett looked at you, a smile crept along your lips. "Yeah, it's okay with me."

Then you listened to the two of them in quiet conversation before Bradley took Everett inside and carried him up to bed. You followed them up the stairs but went into your bedroom and let them have a few minutes to themselves. You contemplated changing into something cute to wear to bed with your fiance, but you ended up sitting on the bed wiping away your tears instead. And then after a while, Bradley walked in, and you could tell he had been crying as well. 

He paused next to the bed and you asked, "Are you okay?"

A nod was all you got right away. Then he rasped, "He called me dad. While I got him ready for bed."

"He loves you."

Bradley looked up at the ceiling. "Listen, I had every intention of walking in here and absolutely ravaging my wife-to-be. I swear. But instead, I think I just want to hold you first."

How could anyone possibly disagree with that? You reached out for his hand and pulled him into bed with you and into your arms. "I love you, Coach."

"Fuck, Kitten," he groaned against your neck as you hugged him. "I didn't think I would end up crying so much the day I got engaged. Actually... I never really thought I'd ever get engaged. Especially not to a mom."

You opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off with his lips on yours. "But you're right, Kitten. I was tailor-made to be with you. And Everett."

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed all of the words from your lips. You were left softly sighing as he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, the prickle of his mustache on your skin driving you crazy for him.

"I was going to put on something cute to celebrate with you tonight," you whispered. 

"No, no. I love that stuff, you know that. But you're perfect just like this." Bradley kissed you through your grass stained clothing before he started to remove it. "Perfect."

When he took his time like this, it was almost better than when he went wild. Bradley ran his nose along your lace covered breasts, his thumbs grazing your sides, skimming down your ribs. Wordlessly, he moved every bit of your clothing before he pulled his shirt over his head. His skin was hot beneath your hands, and the sound of his heavy breathing filled the space. When his lips met your bare breasts, you whimpered. His big palms were on your hips, holding you in place as you spread your legs wide for him.

His words were too soft, the sound of your whimpering nearly drowning him out as his lips and mustache met the sensitive skin below your belly button. 

"Bradley."

His hands left your body, and you heard him work his zipper down. But then his mouth was on your pussy, kissing and licking you as your fingers tangled in his hair. And he would be here every night with you. When he wasn't deployed, he'd be in bed with you, right here, every night. 

"Bradley," you whispered again, this time with a little sob. You were going to marry him, and he would always be there with you. 

He swiped his tongue slowly up to your clit before kissing you there. "Kitten?"

You pulled him up by his soft hair and wiped away your tears. "I love you." Then his lips were on yours, and you could feel his cock at your entrance. The way your body welcomed every part of him, like you'd been waiting for him, had you wrapping your leg around his waist. He groaned softly against your lips as he sank into you, filling you up. But he didn't move yet. Not for a few minutes. He just stretched you in the most wonderful way while you pulsed around him, and he told you everything he was going to do now that you were engaged.

"I'll move in next weekend, Kitten," he whispered against your neck. "And then I'll start doing your yardwork, because you kind of suck a pulling weeds, Baby."

"Hey," you whined, with a laugh that turned into a moan as he pushed himself deeper inside you. 

"I'll pay half the bills. And I'll make breakfast in the mornings. And you can pack my lunch. And I'll play baseball with Ev, because I love him. And then I'll fuck you all night, because I love you."

His words got ragged as he started to thrust. And as soon as he was moving, his rough hairs harsh against your wet clit, you could feel the pressure building inside you. After a few more strokes, you were whining his name, and he was smiling against your lips. Bradley fucked you slow and steady through your orgasm, drawing it out and making your sweat-slick body shiver beneath him. And he went nice and slow until he was grunting and spilling himself inside you. 

Your fingers dug into the back of his neck as he kissed you hard. "Please don't make me wait too long to marry you. To be Ev's stepdad for real."

"I won't." 

As he panted on top of you, a plan was already forming in your mind. You tried to hold back your grin as you thought about it. Bradley would love it, and so would Ev. If it was even viable. But you'd have Bradley all to yourselves soon enough, and he could help you plan it out. 

A little while later, as you were snuggled up with Bradley, nearly asleep, he whispered, "I told Everett I'd take him to the park tomorrow evening. Thanks for sharing your son with me."

You laughed softly, and then you froze up.

"What's wrong?" he asked, stroking up and down your spine with his rough hand.

You propped yourself up to look at him, unsure if you should even say anything. 

"Kitten. Did I say something wrong?"

"No," you whispered, shaking your head slightly. "It's just that... I never told you this, but I don't want to have anymore kids, Bradley." You bit down hard on your lip as he studied your face. 

He looked a little surprised but not disappointed. "Oh. I mean, I hadn't given it much thought, to be honest. I guess I thought the three of us would be perfect, you know? Happy."

You heaved a sigh of relief and wrapped your arms around him again. "Yeah. The three of us. Happy."

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

The following day, after work, you put your ring back on and drove to Molly and Bob's condo. Bradley was picking Everett up from summer camp, and you'd have a chance to talk to your sister alone for a few minutes if Bob wasn't back from base yet.

You knocked on their door loudly before using the key they gave you to let yourself inside. 

"Come in!" Molly called out, and you found her in the living room, under a blanket, eating chips and watching reality TV. "Hi!"

You laughed and plopped down next to her. She looked tired as you kissed her cheek. "They working you too hard?" you asked, running your hand across her forehead. "Molly, you look exhausted."

She yawned and snuggled into your touch. "I'm so fucking tired. These double shifts are killing me. I thought it would be an easier adjustment to all daylight shifts than this! But they keep asking me to pull extra hours, because we're short staffed."

"That's not good," you whispered with a frown as she yawned again. But she just brushed you off.

"I'll be fine after Bob dicks me down and I get a good night's sleep again tonight for work tomorrow."

"Oh, I didn't really need to know that, but thanks?"

She nodded at you with a serious look in her eyes. "I love him. He's the sweetest man in the world. And he has a big cock. I'll be just fine. Don't worry about me."

As you cleared your throat to try to change the subject, Molly reached for your hand and screamed, "What is that?!" She started pawing at your engagement ring, kicking her blanket to the floor and jumping up. "You're getting married!"

You laughed at your wild eyed sister standing in front of you in a sports bra, boxer shorts and mismatched socks. "I'm getting married!" you confirmed, and she screamed again. "He asked me yesterday."

"Oh my god! Bradley really went all in on the ring, huh?" she asked, pulling it off your finger to examine it. "I mean...damn! He probably thought you'd say no if the ring sucked. Look at the size of this thing!"

"I wouldn't have said no!" you told her, laughing as she pretended to be blinded by the sparkle. "Ev helped him pick it out."

Molly screamed again. "Ev helped?! Okay, Bradley can stay forever, I guess."

The two of you were on the floor laughing and sharing the bag of chips when Bob walked in wearing his khaki uniform.

"Mo, it's uniform time, Honey," he said with a grin, but then he saw you on the floor with some chips halfway to your mouth, and he blushed. "Oh... you're here too... that's great." 

"Hey, Bob," you said before shoving the chips in your mouth and standing. "I was actually just leaving, so feel free to have uniform time."

He still looked embarrassed as you patted his cheek. "Oh, um..."

"I just stopped by to tell you both that Bradley and I are getting married. Hopefully pretty soon." You held up your hand, and Bob pulled you in for a hug. 

"Ugh," Molly groaned from the floor. "He's going to be my brother-in-law."

"You just told me how happy you were for me!"

"I am," she confirmed. "I just kind of like to pick on him. It's fun. And easy."

You rolled your eyes and hugged Bob tight. "Stay tuned for a wedding date, okay? I just need to make a few phone calls." Then you turned to leave, but Molly followed you after she kissed Bob.

"You can stay for dinner, if you want."

You smiled and put your high heels back on. "Nah, I don't want to interrupt uniform time."

Molly grinned like the devil, but she said, "I ordered some cute shirts for both of us and Ev to wear to the rec league games. But the Bradshaw on the back of yours is going to have a whole new meaning now! Are you going to ditch Danny's last name?"

"God, yes," you groaned. "As long as it's okay with Bradley."

"And what about Ev?"

You puzzled her question in your mind for a moment. You'd been waiting for the child support from Danny to kick in. But you'd probably be waiting a lot longer. He wasn't going to hand it over to you willingly. But you just knew that Everett was going to want a new last name as well, and honestly it made you want to cry. 

"I'm not sure," you whispered, forcing a smile and kissing Molly one last time. "Go have fun with Bob. I'll see you soon." 

And when you got home, Bradley and Everett were there, eating a pizza they brought back after playing in the park. Bradley jumped up to get a slice ready for you, and you hugged him around his middle while Everett told you about his day.

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

Ev called him dad! He's moving in! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 27

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

dbf!Jake with a little bit of grey in his hair I'm 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 I don't know why that gets me but it does

you understand!!! you get it!!!! I swear this has fueled hours of my daydreams about him, I'm incredibly hyped to share those haha

jake refers to himself in third person once in this, and even though every time i read or write that i have to think about caesar and immediately hate it, jake would absolutely 100% do it so.

top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs

It's late as you stumble through Jake's doorway, your keys clanging against the wall and your shoes thumping to the floor. You can hear the tv playing in the living room, shouts and cheers that have you guessing he's watching a sports game.

You tread through the hallway and knock softly on the doorframe, a bit unnecessarily because Jake's head is long turned to you.

"Hey there", you greet, and you can do nothing at all against the smile tugging at your lips.

"Hey there", Jake echoes, at least an octave deeper than you. His eyes rake down your body - you're still in your work clothes, which is unusual. "D'you want a drink, darling?"

With a sigh, you push off the doorframe and pad over to the couch. Jake puts his beer bottle down on the table.

"No, I'm good. I don't need a drink", you mutter, letting yourself drop right onto his lap. He's freed his hands for a reason after all. "I just need you."

One of your palms steadies against his chest, the other brushes down his jaw, fingertips dragging circles against his skin - against his stubble, it's been a few days since he's shaved (and that truly is your favourite look on him) - as his arms wrap around your waist and pull you tightly to him.

"I'm here", he says with a smile.

"Yeah", you breathe, smiling right back at him. God, he turns your insides into mush. "I know."

He holds you close and settles back against the couch, his eyes focused on yours, content to have you on his lap, to have your hands on him. You can feel him relax by the second as your fingertips trail up and down his face - his jaw, his cheek, disappearing into his hair.

Suddenly, you still.

"Jake", you breathe and swallow hard. "Are you going grey?"

"What?", he mutters, his arms loosening from around you to grab for your thighs instead.

"You're going grey", you repeat, and pray you don't sound half as stunned as you feel. "Baby, you've got a grey streak."

Jake's hands tighten on you. If there was any way, any way at all, to look away from the strand of grey you'd spotted in his hair, you would - but you can't. You can't. There's absolutely no way you can drag your eyes off.

He's going grey. Your boyfriend is going grey.

"If you joke about how old I am now, I'll call your father", he mutters, but there's less joke in his tone than there should be. It takes you a second to realise why.

He's worried.

He's worried you're understanding just how old he is, that it's somehow bothering you, that it's turning you off.

The problem you are having is about the opposite.

Jake's grey streak doesn't turn you off. It turns you on.

You don't know why. You can't explain to yourself why. You don't really want to, either, because you're sure that's just going to end up being some fucked up psychology deep dive. It doesn't matter anyway. What matters is the way your legs clamp tightly around his, the way your fingers fist his shirt.

"Jake", you whisper, finally managing to drag your eyes away from his hair and to look back at him instead. He truly does seem worried - it's just hard to concentrate on that when you feel tingly and hot all of a sudden. But something in his expression changes the very moment you glance at him anyway. You think you can guess why.

You've never been all that good at hiding your emotions. And Jake had read you like an open book from the very beginning on.

Maybe your eyes are glazed over or half-lidded or something, maybe your cheeks are dusted pink, maybe your pupils are blown wide - you'd have to check a mirror to be sure, but you know that there must be something, something he sees that has him raising his eyebrows, that has a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"You're into this", he says, almost as though he can't really believe it.

You bite down on your lip and your eyes flicker back up to the grey in his hair.

"And what if I am, old man?", you mumble, playing at his age after all, trying to get at least a bit of leverage back, even though you already know you'll lose it just as quickly again.

Jake proves you right almost immediately - you can't even comprehend how fast he's turned you around, got your back pushed against the couch and your chest pressed to his.

"You like your old man", he mutters, his breath tickling your skin as you try to calm your racing pulse. Your old man, fuck. That shouldn't make your heart stutter the way it does. "And his grey streak too."

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

Vox takes you on a date to a casino.

Vox: "So, Doll what do you want to do first?"

You: "Oh well, I'm not really sure... I've never really gambled before. I don't want to lose money because I don't know how..."

Vox slings his arm around your shoulder, his warm body pressed to yours.

Vox: "Nonsense, Doll I'll teach you, and it's all on my, my treat, how about we get you a nice drink, and I'll teach you how to BJ..."

At your startled look, he holds up his hands laughing, clearly he'd been teasing you.

Vox: "I just meant Blackjack."

He laughs at your reddened face and guides you over to the bar, giving you the rundown of the rules, you're sure you'll learn better as you play, but it gives you enough of an idea of what's expected in the game.

You sit in the seat and Vox hovers beside you, sending soothing static down your spine and sparking delightfully through your nerves making it hard to focus.

Not that it matters as Vox tells you every move to make anyway right now.

You celebrate your first win so excitedly and to Vox's utter pleasure you kiss him ecstatic and buzzing, he buys you another drink and you go another round really liking this game.

You found you won the next hand again under his guidance and tried yourself the next time and lost.

Every time he helped you, you seemed to win, and each time he got a kiss in gratitude, he'd clearly won more than he'd lost.

As you were about to buy in for another round, a trio of imposing guys approach the table and you end up clutching Vox's arm as you're both whisked off to a side room.

The dude sitting there is feline in nature. The guards post beside him and one at the door behind you.

Vox: "Well hello there Husker, good to see you my man, our evening is going splendidly, nice place you've got here."

'Husker' however is stoney faced, to Vox's charismatic friendliness.

Husk: "As a fellow Overlord who don't want no war, I'm gonna just tell you this once and give you one chance, you leave and there'll be no trouble."

Vox shifts, subtly blocking you further from view, you cling to his jacket trembling.

Vox: "And why would I do that, my good fellow?"

His voice, friendly as ever but you can hear the shift in the undertone, a dangerous one, feeling the static shocks run down his spine you still do not let go despite your fingers going numb.

It was Vox's one rule, if there's trouble you don't let go as he can zap you both out of anywhere with electricity in less than a moment as long as you're connected.

Husk: "You been countin' cards, and I want you out."

You gasp in slight surprise and you feel Vox shaking with laughter, like he'd expected this all along.

Vox: "Why would you say that, Husk? Be careful what you say next, you might not like the outcome."

Husk was either very brave or very foolish, or perhaps a bit of both, maybe it's because Vox wasn't really a fighter... That was ever talked about.

Husk: "You win every round you play, and you might not have the counting cards tells like most normal folk but I know you're doing it in that tecky head of yours and I want you out for cheating on my turf."

Vox: "I'm going to give you just one chance to take that accusation and rude statement back my man, and let bygone be bygones, otherwise... You'll be the one regretting your actions tonight. I might have a 'techy' head, but I can assure you I have integrity for games that my mentor taught me..."

The room flickers around you all, your knuckles going pale as your grip shakes and the power flashes in the whole casino.

Vox: "I do not cheat, and you insult me as an Overlord and a paying patron, and if you don't submit an apology, of course good chum, I will be forced to ruin you."

Husk: "I've heard enough, take him out boys."

Guns were pulled and in a moment you were back in VTower in the penthouse, dizzy from the unusual travel, blood still buzzing in your veins as Vox catches you and settles you on the couch cradling your face.

Vox: "You okay? Babydoll?"

You breathe deep for a moment getting grounded, your face splits into a wide grin.

You: "Fuck you're hot when you're swinging your dick around with authority."

Vox laughs kissing you deeply. Thoroughly amused at your choice of words and feeling the real thing twitch with more interest.

Vox: "Oh yeah? Want me to order you around a little tonight, Doll? Maybe you can show your Master just how much you like being his little pet."

You can't help the loan that escapes you, his shark-like grin tells you how well received your involuntary response went however.

Vox: "Good, my Babydoll. So good aren't you? Held onto me the whole time we were there, trusted me, such a good little Pet."

You whimper and bite your lip, flushing and nodding eagerly, dragging a finger down the ball of his antenna making him shiver slightly, his claws prick your hips where they tighten.

You: "Did you cheat?"

Vox: "Oh absolutely, Alastor always taught me as long as you hold all the cards and are the most powerful in the room however, no one can stop you. I have seniority, I have more power and I'm afraid I'm going to have to end that two bit Overlords little buisness in less than a weeks time."

Vox kisses you all across the face and angling your head funny, kisses down your neck with every word, to your giggles.

Vox: "I'll give him two days to lure him into a false sense of security, then I'll strike, and while he's trying to save himself I'll offer him a deal... But first, my Doll, I'm going to have a pre-celebration, right here with you."

His voice almost purrs at you and you whimper as he covers your body with his, kissing you soundly and really living up to his words as he doesn't disappoint tending to all your needs for the next two days, making you scream his name more times than you can keep track of.

Only, after two days Vox's plans didn't quite work out the way he'd intended...

It seems the cat was smarter than he appeared... And had already taken the threat seriously, seems the old cat was now under Alastor's protection, and his business untouchable, Husk had his soul chained but still kept his power and business and Vox raged for a whole week after that.

Only you could calm him for short periods of times, but you were bruised from how roughly he'd handled you.

On the last night, Vox curled around you muttering apologies into your skin as he caressed every mark, and kissed every bite.

You didn't mind so much, but with an extra threat just that week from some mafia guys, he moved you out of the tower and into your own flat.

You couldn't help but feel isolated and alone, wondering if Vox would ever come back for you...

[rubra-wav]

Hey. Uh, I hope it’s alright if I ask for Adam x GN!Reader? I know he’s not on your characters I’ll write for list but he’s also not crossed out, so

Anyway, could I get a fic of Adam and reader just spending the night together? The only thing I’ll specify is that they live seperately, so either reader or Adam visited each other. And they fall asleep in each other’s arms at the end

Thank you. Hope you have fun writing this one :]

Adam x reader : 'Sleepover Shenanigans'

A/N Yeah, if a character isn't listed I'll write them as long as they aren't in the 'I won't write' section 🙏

I imagine they're watching an Adam Sandler movie even tho that logically doesn't make sense (those would not go to heaven)/hj

CW: SFW, gn!reader, romantic? Ish could be read as either or, reader is also an angel (not an exorcist tho, a winner), fluff with a hint of underlying angst

You sat down waiting for Adam to come back into the loungeroom, laying back into the plush sofa and passively listening to the sound of him cheering as whatever he was making in the kitchen clearly was a success.

You snickered lightly at the sound of him clattering around and quietly talking to himself the whole way, saying things you couldn't quite hear properly.

Although as an angel Adam shouldn't have been working overtime, he sure had been.

He'd barely swung into your workplace to talk shit like he usually did about everything and everyone to you for the past fortnight.

Although most other winners would be absolutely thrilled that they didn't have to deal with Adam, you didn't feel the same.

He was an asshole, sure. Loud, obnoxious, and overly hard-headed at times, but it was entertaining as hell ironically being around him.

So, needless to say, when he'd ended up inviting you back to his place to hang out after finally coming to your store again as an apology for 'probably bumming you out because it was so boring without him', you'd of course said yes.

You looked up as Adam walked through the doorway finally, holding a giant bowl of nachos and chewing loudly while giving you a thumbs up as he put the bowl on the table.

He clicked his fingers, pointing finger guns at you with a grin. "Let's get this shit on the road." You nodded, scooting to the side a bit as he sat down next to you.

Adam slung his arm lazily over the back of the lounge where you sat back, one of his wings' feathers grazing your arm softly where it was folded at his side.

Through the whole movie, Adam and you just talked about how bad the movie was as it was playing, making jokes and snickering.

It turned out that Adam's taste lay in b grade comedy movies that were so bad in plot it was funnier than the actual comedy within.

The constant unending running commentary from Adam, however, slowed down and, almost by the end of the film, had stopped completely.

You'd hardly noticed that Adam had been leaning up against you more and more as the movie progressed, the arm around the back of the lounge coming to actually wrap around the back of your neck as he pressed his cheek against your shoulder.

Something stupid happened on screen, and you snorted. "What the actual hell was-" You stopped as you turned to Adam, seeing that he was now dead asleep.

Apparently, the overtime had caught up with him. You hadn't much noticed the bags under his eyes when he'd taken off his mask upon greeting you, but you could see them now on his peacefully sleeping face.

You yawned as you turned to look back at the still playing movie, tears beading at the corners of your eyes. Your own sleepiness you'd been shrugging off had hit into you as if brought on seeing him passed out next to you.

It was pretty late.

You figured it would be best if you turned off the movie and got to the hastily set up space on the other lounge you had dubbed as the spot you were sleeping tonight after getting here. Although where you were was comfortable now, it absolutely would not be by the morning.

You picked up the remote from beside Adam, carefully moving to pull yourself out of his grasp in an attempt to not wake him up - only to promptly be pulled even closer to him.

Adam mumbled nonsense in his sleep, pressing his face into your neck before settling again.

Huh.

You hummed as you once again moved to remove the first man from around you, this time watching said man's yellow eyes crack open tiredly.

"Don't... go. Just stay here.. with.." He mumbled, still obviously half asleep. There was something somewhat sad in his tone as he said it. Something you had never really heard before.

You didn't get a chance to really think about it as you were picked up and then pressed against Adam, laying on top of his chest as he laid back across the lounge.

Strong arms wrapped around you tightly, barring you from leaving as he quickly fell back to sleep under you, all too comforted by your weight on top of him.

You slowly relaxed against him as you realised you weren't getting up again. Not that you much cared to move. He was actually extremely comfortable to lay on.

You pressed your cheek up against his chest, ear above his steadily beating heart, closing your eyes and allowing it to lull you to sleep.

You heard the sound of his wings coming to wrap around you as well, the softness of his golden feathers tickling your skin and adding an extra layer of warmth to the embrace encapsulating you.

He'd surely play it off as you wanting to cuddle him tomorrow, but that didn't much bother you as you drifted off, feeling much more secure and safe than you usually did.

This had me thinking a lot more about Adam than I have been, and it's probably enough to make a whole headcanon post for him tbh.

I am also SO sorry for how long it's been taking for me to get to stuff bruh, life has been putting me through the ringer a bit lately/lh

Masterlist

[notiddygxthgf]

10. Early Breakfast

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ I didn't know Hayakawa Captain had a girlfriend. ❞

★ c.w.: smut. more (poorly timed) confessions. denji is his own warning. (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: Hi again pookie dooks ;)). Okay so. I have been waiting SO LONG to post this chapter. We're nearing the end of the ones I had pre-written, and as a result updates may come a little slower, but I'll try to keep up! (Just be patient w me, ur girl is #struggling rn w uni). You're gonna love this chapter (until you dont). not saying nothing though. ENJOY LOVELIES! muah! please leave many many comments (spam me idgaf) i need smth to look forward to reading and i ALWAYS go thru yall's comments w the dorkiest smile. ily. (no beta, we die like... yeah.)

★ w.c: .7.5k

shameless ; chapter index

AKI'S BED WAS WARM. Warm enough that you seemed to be able to forget where you were — or, rather, where you should have been. You had entire hotel suite waiting for you, yet it seemed as if you had wasted the first five days of your stay in Tokyo entangled with him. Two days had passed between your bathroom debacle and now, and you were back again right where it all had started.

You weren't entirely sure you minded it.

Aki wrapped his long, calloused fingers around your wrist, holding your bloody finger away from his face. You had cut your thumb open on the page of a magazine while the two of you were relaxing on his mattress — distantly, a song from a band you didn't know played on his CD player (The tonedeafs, or something like that).

"I want you to," You laughed, reaching your hand towards his face again. "I dared you to. I'm not a germaphobe, I don't care."

Aki furrowed his brows, holding your wrist away from his face once more, "You should care. It could get infected, or worse."

Always so serious.

You pouted, "Says who?"

"Me, everyone," Aki trailed off — playfully, of course, like he was lost in thought, "Any medical professional."

You laughed, flopping back onto the bed where you had been moments earlier before this had started, laying perpendicular to him with your back strewn over his stomach. Makima had given him the day off and you, not knowing what else could have been a better way to help him learn how to relax a little, decided to call out of work as well. 

"Pussy," You teased him, "What kind of Devil Hunter gets squeamish around blood?"

"I'm not squeamish, I'm just taking your health into consideration," He remarked (again, with a playful lilt to his words, despite his serious tone). "And, besides — what if someone overheard this? You calling your superior a pussy, hm? Then what?"

You replied with a witty retort of your own, "And what if they knew their Captain was fucking his subordinates?"

"I think I could get away with one," He teased back. "Not subordinates, plural. Just a subordinate. A married one, at that."

"So there are other subordinates?" You asked him — it was meant to be teasing, but you would be lying if a depraved part of you didn't wonder if you were the only one he was seeing. You wouldn't have a right to be upset if you weren't, granted that you were still very much married to another man.

"No. But that doesn't make you any less of a cougar," He hummed. "Devil Hunters do worse shit than sleeping with their coworkers, I hate to tell you."

"I'm only five years older than you," You huffed. Rolling over to look at him, you added, "We're damned anyway, then. That's what you're saying?"

"Not damned," He replied. Finally setting the book he'd been reading down on the bed beside him, he said, "Blessed. At least, I am."

"You're blessed?" You asked. "I'm a trainwreck, Aki."

"You're my trainwreck, though, aren't you?" He reached down, ruffling your hair with his hand. "I'm blessed because you're the first person to come into my life and give me a reason to keep myself alive."

"I thought you said you wanted to kill the Gun Devil?" You teased.

"I do," He said. "I didn't care if I lived or died before. Now that I have you waiting around for me to come back, I wanna keep coming home."

The slightest frown tugged at the corners of your lips, "That's so sad. You don't have any family?"

"No," He caressed your cheek with the back of his thumb, "The Gun Devil killed them. That's why I said I didn't care if I lived or died. As long as I did it for them, I thought I'd be able to die happy."

"You still feel that way?" You asked.

"Not really. I think I'm starting to have a change of heart," He sighed — chest rising and falling as he did so, "I'm growing fond of my roommates. Between those two shitheads and you, I dunno," A pause, and then he continued, "I'm not so sure I'd be able to die happy knowing I left all of that behind."

It was a touching sentiment. You probably should have left it at that, but a part of you couldn't help but dwell on it. You were — at least a part of — his reason to live. You were what kept him alive, what kept him motivated.

That didn't sound like he "might have feelings" for you.

It sounded like he loved you.

And, to make matters worse, you were beginning to realize that you returned his affections. The craving him, the missing him — the worrying about his wellbeing, the need to constantly be around him... All signs pointed towards one direction:

You loved him, too.

And, before you could stop yourself, before you could tell yourself it was too soon, you found yourself uttering the phrase, "Do you love me, Aki?"

He paused. A moment passed, and he took a deep breath. Then, he peered down at you, "Yeah. I do. I think I'm starting to love those two Devils, too — or at least care for them, but..." He licked his lips. "Not in the way that I love you."

Your heart nearly stopped beating entirely — skipping a beat, and then another while a horde of angry butterflies filled your chest.

Not in the way that I love you.

The way that I love you.

I love you.

He loves me. You couldn't remember the last time you heard those words.

You hadn't taken notice of the silence — or how long it was, for that matter — until Aki spoke again, the depth of his voice vibrating beneath your body, setting your nerves alight.

"You don't... have to say it back," He added, a little more sheepishly. He was so patient with you, so forgiving — it was all so much more than you deserved. "But, yeah, I love you."

You finally spoke up — voice a little weaker than you had intended it to sound. "I.. love you, too. I know I do."

It felt right to confess. You couldn't keep lying to him — to him or yourself.

"Do you want to stop seeing me?" He asked. He sounded like he did not want you to say yes (or maybe you were projecting). "I know it's too soon. I don't want to ruin your life."

You scoffed, "Ruin my life? I'm like a starving beggar who's been given food. You're the best thing that's happened to my life in god-knows-how-long."

He blinked at you. "I don't..."

"It makes no difference," You added on, "I love you and you love me. So, what? Are we supposed to break each other's hearts? Over a man I haven't loved in years? A man with whom I've only stayed for the sake of convenience?"

Aki sighed quietly, calling your name, but you didn't listen.

"I'm tired of running away from the truth, Aki. You were the one who showed me that," You continued. "I love you, and I think I'd be completely miserable if I lived without you."

"But you'd be at peace. You'd have a house and a life in Kyoto, still," He remarked. 

"You've consumed every inch of my peace. How can I give you your peace?" You quoted him. "Is that not what you told me? You don't want to stop seeing me, do you?"

"No, I don't," He said. "I'd be depressed beyond reprieve, but I'd do it if it meant you could be happy."

Finally, you rolled over, folding your arms over his chest, laying your head down over his heart — peering up at him through a fond gaze, "I'm happy with you, Aki. I don't want anything else."

There was an issue — of course. The issue being the dissolution of your marriage with your husband. But, still, the two of you danced around the truth.

"You shouldn't say things like that to me," He added quietly, "I'll hide you away in here forever."

You laughed softly, quietly, like you couldn't help but yearn for exactly that. "And, what? I should leave everything behind to stay here with you?"

To your surprise, however, he did not seem to be joking – not in the least. "Yeah," He deadpanned, "Would that be so bad?"

You sighed deeply, your fingers absently toying with the soft, rumpled covers of Aki's bed. The room had been bathed in a warm, golden light from the bedside lamp. The weight of contemplating a divorce hung heavily on you—images of an uncertain future and financial instability looming large in your mind.

"I'd have nothing if we divorced. I think that's the main reason I haven't done it by now. We never signed a prenup, so..." Your voice trailed off, the enormity of it all pressing down on you. "I'd be in shambles."

Aki shifted next to you, his gaze softening as he absorbed your words. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against your arm in a gesture meant to soothe. "But you could start over. We could start over. You're miserable with him. You know that, right?"

"You're too young to understand," You sighed.

"All that for a five year age gap is kind of crazy," He retorted. "Help me understand, then – why won't you put yourself first, for once?"

You looked away, your eyes reflecting the anxiety you felt. "I would lose the house, Aki... and everything I've worked for... it's not just about me."

"The apartment down the hall is up for lease, I've heard. It's not exactly the same as your house, but it could be a start," Aki tilted his head slightly, trying to offer a comforting smile. "We could make it work."

You considered his words – the idea of a new beginning didn't sound all too bad. Slowly, a tentative smile started to spread across your face. You met Aki's gaze, and he returned your smile with one that was gentle and understanding – like he always was. 

Finally, you shifted your position, rolling over to straddle Aki's waist, sitting in his lap. You reached down, gently plucking the magazine from his hands, and intertwined your fingers with his. 

"You love me," You said giddily, grinning ear to ear like a lovestruck fool.

God, now that you heard him say it, you wanted to hear it again.

Just to make sure that it was real.

And he looked up at you through tired, pretty blue eyes, like you had hung the stars in the sky yourself. Like you were everything to him. "Yes."

"Only me," You continued.

To which he answered breathlessly, "Yes."

"And you're happy with me?" You went on, "You're not just saying that to get my hopes up?"

"Yes," He answered. "Happier than I've ever been."

You knew it was dangerous to indulge yourself so shamelessly in his affections. He loved you and you loved him – there was only one thing holding you back from being his and his entirely...Your marriage of convenience.

"And you," He asked. "Do you love me? Only me?" 

"Of course," You answered. It should have been more difficult of an admission than it was. In reality, you hadn't loved anyone in years. "I haven't been able to fuck anyone else since you came around. That's how much I love you."

"You're not special," He tutted. "I can't even get off unless I'm thinking about you and that pretty face of yours. You know that?"

"I get that. I know you love me," You smiled. "But how much?"

Aki's hands slid up your legs, gripping your thighs. Slowly, he aided you in rocking back, then forth – until you took notice of the sudden hardness pressing into your core from below. He quirked a brow, "This much."

You widened your eyes, dragging your tongue over the front of your teeth. If that's the case, then that's a lot. You played into it, of course. You pulled the hem of his oversized sweater up and over your hips so that you could rut against him. The lace of your panties created a friction so delicious that your next words came out as a shudder, "This much?"

His lashes fluttered, pretty eyes threatening to shut – but he kept them open, like he wanted to commit every second of this moment to memory. "Yes."

You rubbed yourself along the length of the bulge in his sweatpants slowly, tantalizingly – "This much?"

He released the prettiest little trembling sigh, "Yes..."

"This much?" You leaned down a little further. Your hands braced themselves on his chest, sliding down to his abs, then back up again – all while you lowered yourself a little closer to his face, rutted against him a little harder, just the way he liked it. 

"Yes," He whimpered faintly, weakly. When you brought your face a little lower, a little closer to his, you could see the faint hue of pink that painted his cheeks.

Unable to wait a moment longer, you touched your noses together, lips only inches apart.

"This much?" You breathed. Going a little faster now – all but riding the tent in his sweats – you felt your legs begin to tremble. "And this much? And this much?"

"Ah..." He panted, "Yes, yes, yes."

His eyes struggled to meet yours – you liked the sense of control it gave you. It made your mind run wild with desire, knowing he trusted you enough to let you have him like this. To let you take the reins. Just before your lips touched, you brought your bloody thumb up to his mouth. 

Then, carefully, you painted the faintest trace of red on his lower lip. He froze – holding his breath, anticipating your next move.

You traced your tongue carefully over his lower lip, kissing his lips clean – licking up what was left. It was depraved and dirty and downright distasteful... but, fuck...

It was so hot.

Clearly, Aki shared your sentiment, because before you could pull away he was gripping the back of your neck and bringing you closer to him, slipping his tongue into your mouth while it was still open – stealing a dirty kiss from you. His lips were insistent against yours, desperate, even – tasting like mint with the faintest hint of blood.

With a blissful groan, he departed from your lips, kissing his way down your neck while he rocked your hips back and forth. The friction was just enough to have you moaning in tandem, falling into him.

His tongue was hot against your skin, pulling it into his mouth to suck gently on it – gentle enough that he wouldn't leave marks, hard enough that you were gripping his biceps for support. 

You craned your head up toward the ceiling to give him more room to continue his onslaught down the valley of your neck, down your clavicle. 

You brought your hands down to the waistband of Aki's sweatpants, where he was practically straining against the fabric. "Need you, Aki, please."

He let you wrangle his pants down just far enough to free him (no, he hadn't bothered to put on a pair of boxers after his shower) – just far enough to let his aching erection spring out. His fingers looped beneath the fabric of your panties with practiced ease, and he pushed them to the side.

"Right now?" He asked. "Like this?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck. Need you, too, baby."

You wasted absolutely no time in lining his tip up with your entrance and sinking down on him. With little to no prep involved prior, it was a bit of a stretch – you could feel his length splitting you open, but, shit...

It felt so fucking good to have him inside of you. You fell forward onto him, letting him set the pace.

He let out the sexiest little gasp, squeezing his eyes shut. 

"You won't get tired of me?" You asked, rising up and then sinking back down after a moment of adjustment. Up once more, then down once more, and you could feel the pain subsiding. "Of... of this?"

"Never," He gritted out, gripping your hips a little harder. He bounced you up and down a little faster, a little harder – and that little change in speed was all it took to have the both of you gasping. He moaned, "So perfect. Fuckin' love it."

You giggled, "So this is love?" 

Trailing off, you gasped, a smile forming on your tender lips. It wasn't the years you had spent with your husband, arguing over money and food and everything else. It wasn't distasteful comments about your body, or a harsh sting on your cheek followed by a half-assed apology. It wasn't a broken promise of "I do," or a life in Kyoto. It was this.

Aki's response came in the form of a muffled whine of, "Yes," against your sensitive neck.

"This..." You grinned. 

This was love. 

You could get used to it.

You rustled from your sleep late in the evening. Nose twitching, you nuzzled your face into the warm surface your head was laid upon – warm, bare skin beneath you. Aki's chest was a milky white valley – between the pectorals of which you pressed a lazy kiss. He stirred, only slightly, and didn't wake.

A grumble of your stomach prompted you to sigh before slipping out of his grasp, out of the fortress his strong arms made around your head. His biceps were so plump that you almost wished you could sink your teeth into them, mark him as yours.

But, alas, duty calls. 

You slid out of the bed slowly, being careful not to wake your lover in the process. His sweater slipped down your waist, pooled around your thighs, and your bare feet touched the floor of his bedroom as you padded towards the door. 

You cast one last glance to the bed before you left. Aki was sound asleep, face turned to the side, inky black hair tousled and spread over the pillow. His pink lips were open just enough for quiet snores to escape. As if he sensed your absence, he grumbled something incoherent in his sleep, and rolled over onto his side. He wrapped an arm around the pillow – where you had been lying only a moment earlier – and snuggled into it. 

God, he was so fucking cute – he was going to be the death of you.

A smile teased the corners of your lips. With no great deal of satisfaction, you cracked the door open – checking your surroundings before slipping into the living room. You tip-toed over the wooden floorboards (as if that would make a difference) and into the kitchen, pawing at the fridge until it opened.

You squinted into the refrigerator light, trying to scan its contents for a good snack. Let's see... Lettuce, Leftovers, Vegetables...

Berries! You grinned, reaching for the little package of strawberries. It looked like it was pretty new – surely he wouldn't notice a few missing... right? 

If he did, he certainly didn't seem like he would care.

So you shut the fridge just as quietly as you had opened it. You nearly lept right out of your skin when you noticed something standing behind the door – someone.

It was the ginger boy from the party – Denji – and he was looking at you like he was just as confused as you were, standing only a little taller than you in Cookie Monster pajama pants and an old-looking undershirt.

What time is it? His roommates were supposed to be at training today!

He raked his eyes over your appearance, following the path of your bare legs up to your sweater, then up to your face again. Finally, he commented, "I didn't know Hayakawa Captain had a girlfriend."

You were fucking mortified. So much for being on the down low, right? 

Swallowing, you replied, "I'm not–"

"Wait a sec, aren't you that girl from the party?" He squinted at you. 

Shit. Shit. Double Shit.

"Uh..." You laughed awkwardly, toying with the hem of Aki's sweater. You knew you probably made for a remarkable sight – messy hair, bare feet, wearing nothing but his Captain (and roommate's) sweater. "What party?"

Public Safety loved to party. He wouldn't remember you from one night alone, would he?

"The one where Himeno got shitfaced? Wait, I don't think that narrows it down by much..." He pursed his lips, tapping his chin in thought while he scrutinized you, "It had to have been, like, a month ago, now. She started crying and then she got real wasted and puked on my shoes... She said she was real pissed at Hayakawa and his little girlfriend. That's you, right?"

Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. You didn't know what was more mortifying – the idea that he knew you were sleeping with his captain, or the idea that Himeno was telling him about you. 

If your flustered appearance didn't give it away (or the way you froze like a deer in headlights when he said that), your words definitely did. "I have no clue what you're talking about."

That sounds like something someone would say if they most definitely did know what someone was talking about, you thought.

What the hell was he doing out here this late, anyway? It wasn't fair.

"Youuu... sure...?" He asked, squinting at you a little harder. You were one question away from breaking a sweat, "'Cause he's been acting real fishy lately, and I heard noises coming from his room when I came back a few hours ago."

You were going to murder him and yourself a moment later. He said they wouldn't come home.

"I thought you were supposed to be at training?" You whisper-shouted back at him. "What noises could you possibly have heard?"

"We wrapped up early," He remarked, like that should have been obvious. "And, I dunno, but it sounded like someone was being murdered in there. Himeno said he had a "little girlfriend", and I don't see him around many women, so..." Snapping his fingers, he pointed them at you, "You're her. You're his secret girlfriend, right? I've been working on my detective skills, you know. I can tell these things about people."

You could do nothing but gape at him, utterly gobsmacked at two different things – Firstly, that this interaction was even happening, and, secondly, that he had managed to sniff you out so easily.

"Unless you're not," He trailed off – seemingly lost in thought, again, as he gazed up at the ceiling, scratching his chin, "You know, I heard him in the bathroom with someone the other day. Is that something you're aware of? I don't want to assume, but I figured you should know. He could be cheating on you."

Again, you couldn't form a suitable answer, mouth open. Still – because you were hungry – you plucked a strawberry from the container, inching your hand slowly towards your mouth. 

"What are you doing?" A voice cut into the tense silence between you and the orange-haired boy – who, from your understanding, was no older than 16. The two of you jumped apart. 

Aki stood in the hallway, eyeing you and Denji up wearily. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed – literally – with his hair still a little disheveled over his neck and in his face, donning nothing but a pair of sweatpants to match the shirt you were wearing. 

We're cooked, you thought. 

Then, immediately letting your gaze wander over his chiseled physique, you thought, He looks so fucking good without a shirt on.

The sound of his voice shook you from your horny reverie. He had called your name, or something like that, considering that he was looking right at you.

You tilted your head, popping the strawberry into your mouth, "Hmm?"

Aki's lips were pressed into that serious pout he always seemed to wear around his coworkers – something so different from how he normally was around you, something that you had to get used to, "I asked if he was bothering you."

"Oh." You swallowed the mouthful of strawberry you were chewing. Glancing between him and his ginger detective roommate, you muttered, "No.. No, he's just– He was just getting a snack."

His expression softened immediately. Still, he leaned against the kitchen counter, saying, "Come back to bed."

Well, shit, there goes my alibi, You gnawed on the inside of your cheek. He made it sound so tempting.

So, opening the refrigerator door and tucking the container of strawberries away on the shelf, you squeezed past Denji, murmuring a quick, "Good night." 

Then you followed Aki back to his room, leaving the poor boy speechless in the kitchen.

The next morning, Aki was already up when you stirred, the soft sound of bowls clinking and the rhythmic whisking of something filling the quiet morning ambience. The smell of something sweet drifte d in from the kitchen, pulling you out of bed. 

Snagging your purse off of the floor, you slipped into the bathroom, your feet padding softly against the cold floor. Without thinking, you reached for Aki's blue toothbrush again—the one you'd claimed yesterday, and the time before that. There was something oddly comforting about using his things.

There was also something sort of ironic about the way you hesitated before using it — like you hadn't swallowed a load of his kids before, like this was overstepping.

As you brushed your teeth, your thoughts floated back to last night—the weight of his arms around you, the way his hands had roamed your body like they belonged there. Your confession had been a surprise. His confession had been hushed whispers of, "I love you. So perfect. All for me," against your skin, a sinful croon of your name while he fell apart beneath your touch.

You winced slightly at the ache in your lower back, a reminder of how tangled the two of you had been in the sheets. That ache was a small price to pay.

Spitting into the sink, you wiped your face and took a handful of water into your mouth. Then, reaching into your purse, you produced your little Birth Control tin, popping one of the tiny white pills into your mouth.

You wandered back out into the living room a minute or two later, drawn by the smell of what you assumed was breakfast. Aki was standing at the kitchen counter, his back to you, shoulders relaxed beneath one of his signature sweaters— one that, despite how soft and oversized it looked, did nothing to hide his lean form, the muscled slopes of his shoulders. You watched him for a moment, admiring the way he moved so easily in his space, the domesticity of it all.

You walked up behind him without a word, slipping your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against the hard plane of his back. Your hands trailed lazily over his abdomen, feeling the firm lines of his muscles through the fabric of his sweater. You couldn't help but smile to yourself; he was so deceptively toned beneath all those layers, the kind of strength that made you second-guess not divorcing your husband sooner.

"Hey, troublemaker," he said softly, his voice warm and teasing, like he knew you were up to something just by the way you touched him. He didn't even flinch at your sudden embrace, just leaned into you as if he had been expecting you.

You buried your nose between his shoulder blades, breathing him in. That familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the smell of pancake batter—it was such a simple combination, but it made your heart ache in the best way. His hair was tied up in that silly little topknot again, and on anyone else it would have looked completely ridiculous. He smelled like everything good and familiar, like something you didn't even realize you needed.

He set the bowl of pancake batter down and turned slightly, his hand finding your chin, gently tilting your face up to meet his. His lips captured yours in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to show you exactly how much he wanted you. The kiss was languid, sensual,  made your knees a little weak and left you dizzy in the best way. You could taste the sweetness of his affection, the way he held you like you were something precious.

In that moment, it hit you—you really were in love. 

You didn't need to second-guess it. This wasn't like anything you had before. The ease, the quiet bliss of being here with him, in this little bubble you'd both created—it was something you had never known with your husband. 

That marriage had been full of noise and expectations, but this... this was peace. 

This was love.

And standing there, with Aki's arms around you and the smell of pancakes in the air, you knew you didn't want to let this feeling go.

"Hi. You sleep okay?" you asked, slipping your hands under the hem of his sweater, your fingers pressing against the warmth of his muscular back. You felt the subtle shift of his body under your touch, the way his breath caught for just a second.

"Better than okay," he replied, his voice still rough from sleep. "I don't even remember dreaming."

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, "Aww... did I put you to sleep?" The words came out soft, playful, with a teasing edge that hung in the air.

He chuckled, a deep, velvety sound that sent a ripple through your body. "That's rich coming from the one who came so hard she passed out last night."

Your cheeks flushed instantly, the memory making heat rise in your face as you buried it against his chest, the familiar scent of him filling your senses. His sweater smelled like him—warm, clean, and just a little bit of that cologne you couldn't get enough of.

After a moment, you tilted your head, peeking up at him through your lashes. Your hands moved beneath his sweater again, this time slowly exploring the firm ridges of his abs. He was a Greek god, he really was.

You could feel him tense, the muscles under your touch shifting with every slight movement of your fingers as they trailed down his abdomen, brushing lightly with your knuckles. You hummed, the sound vibrating softly in your throat. "Hmm... should I make it up to you?"

Aki's eyes dropped to yours, and you saw the change immediately—his face grew warm, the faintest hint of pink rising on his cheeks as his pupils widened. "Make what up to me?" he asked, his voice lower now, like he wasn't sure if he wanted the answer or if he was bracing for it.

Your fingers dipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, the fabric snapping back against his skin with a soft, sharp sound. He let out a quiet grunt in response, and the sound sent a surge of satisfaction through you.

"You're a little minx today, aren't you?" he teased, though his voice was laced with something deeper, his smirk betraying just how affected he was.

You just smiled up at him, your fingers lingering at the waistband, daring him to see where the moment would take you next.

"What can I say? I'm an early riser," you teased, your finger trailing downward over his sweatpants, over the tent that was beginning to form where your fingers ghosted over them. The way his breath hitched, followed by a flustered laugh, made you grin.

You tugged at the strings of his sweatpants, mischief dancing in your eyes. "And I think someone else is too."

Aki's gaze darted between the stove, where the pancakes were almost ready to be poured, and the closed bedroom doors, behind which his roommates were still fast asleep. His brow furrowed as if he were contemplating something serious, but the playful glint in his eyes hadn't left.

"You're insatiable," he said, though his voice held just the faintest tremor of doubt. "Not like this. Not in the kitchen."

"You're thinking about it?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why? Craving something sweet?"

"Always, pretty girl," he murmured, his tone soft but filled with heat. "But don't tempt me."

"Why not?" you challenged, leaning in just a little closer. "Who was it that said to give in to temptation and not run from the truth? Why stop now?"

Aki's smirk deepened as he slid one hand around your waist, his fingers grazing the small of your back. "Because my temptations involve me hiking that little sweater up and fucking you right there on the table until the neighbors call the cops," he whispered, his lips barely brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Behave."

Yes, sir.

Just before you could retort, you heard the soft creak of a door opening. In an instant, both of you pulled away from each other, the space between you filled with unspoken tension. Eventually, a familiar head of ginger hair popped into the kitchen, tired eyes barely open, pants hanging low on his hips. 

"Morning," Denji yawned.

Aki's words left you breathless, still. You cast him an uncertain glance. He smirked – barely there, of course, but just enough to tell you that your conversation wasn't over. Then, he turned back to the stove.

Denji reached for the fridge, grabbing a bottle of Orange Juice.

"You making pancakes over there?" The younger of the two boys asked, pulling a seat out from beneath the kitchen table and plopping down – clearly unwilling to bring up the whole issue of whatever the fuck happened last night.

This entire situation is unreal.

"Yeah," Aki answered. Clearly, he didn't want to talk about it either. Instead, he poured some batter onto the pan.

Awkwardly, you inched towards the seat at the table across from him. You sat down and folded your hands on the table. He eyed you up curiously, like wasn't sure if last night had been a dream. You avoided his gaze, looking down at your lap.

Suddenly, you felt conscious of your appearance — was your hair disheveled? Had he left marks on your neck? Did Denji have some sort of superpower that allowed him to see through your sweater and see the bruises Aki's strong hands had left on your hips the night before?

A few silent minutes passed, during which neither of you three brought up the elephant in the room. A moment longer, and you were joined by Aki's other nightmare roommate — a short girl with pink hair, sharp teeth, and red little horns protruding from the top of her head. 

She entered the kitchen with a proud shriek of, "Well risings, mortals! I smell sustenance."

When she noticed you, a look of confusion replaced her grin. She sat down at the table next to Denji and asked him, "Who is this human?"

And, just like that, the line is crossed.

Denji shrugged as Aki set a plate of pancakes down in front of him. He quirked a snarky little brow, glaring up at him, "Dunnno. Why don't you ask him?"

Power's lips were pressed into a confused little pout. She looked up at Aki as he walked behind her, but the moment she saw he was coming towards her with a plate, she kept her mouth shut. Four pancakes were heaped onto each of their dishes. The moment it hit the table, she reached for the fork and the knife and dug in.

Finally, Aki came around the table, offering you a plate of pancakes and an apologetic expression before taking a seat next to you. There were two pancakes on his plate, garnished with butter and honey. 

You looked at him with wide eyes that flicked between him and his roommate, blinking extra hard, as if to say, Help me.

He sighed your name in response, "Meet Denji and Power, the two shitheads I live with."

Great. That wasn't helpful at all.

"Why are you not bowing?" The Power girl slammed her fist down against the table. "You are in the presence of greatness."

Denji didn't seem to care much to acknowledge her, ripping a piece off of his pancake and stuffing it into his mouth before saying, "You're bangin' the captain, right?"

Your mouth hung open. Aki tensed, furrowing his brows angrily, "Denji."

"What? You told me you weren't seeing anyone when I asked you, but I saw her come out of your room," Denji snapped back. He ripped another chunk out of his pancake, and stuffed his mouth again. 

"We were having a... sleepover...?" You answered hesitantly, trying to make the situation better (and making it worse).

Denji pointed an accusatory finger at you, "Girls and boys don't have sleepovers."

Power shoved his arm, "Nonsense. Plenty of people do it."

Denji's head snapped towards her. He barked, "Yeah, plenty of people who are banging each other!"

You dropped your head into your hands, groaning into the table. 

Aki handled the situation calmly, as he normally did, "She's my girlfriend."

And, just like that, your head was popping back up. Your wide eyes were on him immediately, heart pounding against your ribs like it was about to break loose. Girlfriend?

Then, a warmth spread over the back of your neck and your face, and you realized you weren't entirely opposed to being his girlfriend. Unless he was just putting up an act. In which case, you definitely weren't getting your hopes up — on paper, you were still married, anyway, right?

Right?

Denji and Power looked just as shocked as you did.

"You lying piece of shit!" Denji hissed. He turned to Power and added, "See? I told you! I knew it! He's been too lenient lately. Pay up."

Power crossed her arms. Mouth still full, she replied, "I refuse."

Denji leapt up from his seat, pointing at her now, "No way. You owe me a feel!"

Oh my god.

"There's a new pack of gum in the car," Aki sighed — visibly distressed by his roommates' behavior but noticeably unsurprised. Clearly this was no infrequent occurrence in his household. 

The two of them perked up at that. 

Aki continued, voice stern and notably father-like, "I'll give the both of you two pieces each if you keep your mouths shut."

Slowly, Denji lowered himself back into his seat. Power's angry face dropped, replaced by a wide-eyed frown, like that of a begging dog.

"Yes, sir," Denji answered obediently.

Power added, "At your service, My Liege."

"This doesn't leave the table. Got it?" Aki told the two of them. Carefully, he cut his pancakes into nine squares. He popped one onto a fork. 

The two roommates nodded quickly.

Aki sighed, "Good. If you have any questions to ask her, do it politely."

Power was the first to ask, "Do you work with him?"

Finally having a chance to speak, you smiled softly, sheepishly, "Yeah. I'm new to Tokyo, though."

"Great. There will be plenty of time, then," She grinned, "I wish the two of you nothing but success in your mission to procreate!"

You choked on the mouthful of pancakes you were trying to swallow down. Before you could even comment on that wildly invasive statement, Denji answered with a question of his own.

"He said be respectful, dumbass," He tutted. He polished off the rest of his pancakes in (seemingly) a few ridiculously huge bites before he asked. "Is it true that women's boobs are measured with letter-sizes?" A pause, then he added, "How big are yours?"

"You little brat," Aki grumbled as he slammed his fork down on the table, "I'm gonna kick your ass."

An hour after breakfast had wrapped up, and Aki had left you to do the dishes, you left for the balcony — but not before reaching into the pocket of the suit jacket he had left neatly folded on the couch and stealing one of his beloved cigarettes and his lucky lighter.

You didn't know what had gotten into you lately. Yet, as you stepped outside and closed the sliding door behind you, you couldn't help the relieved sigh that left your lips the moment the cig was lit and in your mouth.

The cherry crackled as you pulled a long, drawn out hit from it — thinking briefly back to a point in time some six or seven years ago when you were still a young Public Safety officer with a cigarette dangling from her lips, and then to the night before, when Aki had blown the smoke into your mouth. You sighed, releasing the smoke with the slightest cough.

Of course, the peaceful moment was shattered the moment you felt your phone buzzing in the pocket of the basketball shorts Aki had lent you earlier, saying something about how Denji was "Shamelessly ogling your legs". They were long enough to touch the back of your calves. Of course, you imagined they fit him differently.

You plucked the little device out, flipping it open. The screen was illuminated by a call — with two concerns being raised. Firstly, your phone was only on 12%. Secondly, the person calling you was your husband.

Your heart dropped. In a moment, it was as if the tranquil morning had been shattered, leaving you with that feeling of dread you knew all too well. You hadn't spoken to him since the night before you had left for Tokyo.

You flipped the phone open, accepting the call. "Hey."

"Hey. How have you been?"

Fine, before he called. You didn't say that, though, instead pulling another puff of your cigarette. "I've been good."

There was a rather lengthy pause, after which your husband cleared his throat, "Look. I wanted to call you because I felt real bad about what happened before you left."

You couldn't possibly doubt him more. Still, you had spent the entirety of last night getting your guts rearranged by his superior. You figured you had outdone him. "Yeah? It's alright."

"No, it's not," He answered, much to your surprise, "I had no right to hit you. That was super out of line. I'm just... I've been stressed out with work and you being gone, and... I dunno, I..."

The line paused again. You took another hit.

"I can't shake this feeling about you in Tokyo. I feel like something's wrong," He finished.

Your stomach churned with unease. He was right, of course, but you couldn't let onto that – if it had taken him that long to notice, he couldn't really care. Hell, he hadn't called you since you left.

"Like what?" You replied with a noncommittal hum. You couldn't give less of a shit what he was feeling, to be completely fair and honest. He never cared what you were thinking? 

"I don't know what. I know I said some rude things, but... I don't think that's an excuse for you to be ignoring me like this. I've been waiting for your call," He sighed. "Are you okay? Are we okay?"

You nearly burst out laughing at the sheer irony of it all. So now he cares?

He's far too late.

As if on cue, the sliding door opened. Faintly, you could hear Denji and Power shouting at each other in the background, followed by a set of quiet footsteps right behind you. The door shut. You didn't have to turn around to know who it was. 

Aki came up on you from behind, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, nestling his face into the crook of your neck. He smelled of pancakes and laundry soap and cologne, a scent so divine that it had you relaxing into his touch instantly.

On the phone, your husband drew on, "Hello? You still there?"

You felt a warm kiss at the back of your neck, followed by another that landed a little higher, and then a little higher. Then he peppered a series of butterfly kisses to the sensitive skin there. You grinned, leaning into his touch while swatting him away all the same.

"Yeah," You answered, voice teetering on a giggle. Aki pulled you flush against his chest, arms squeezing you tight while he teased you with more butterfly kisses. "Sorry, I'm multitasking."

Aki's hands gripped your hips, pulling them back so that your ass was pressed right up against him. Then, he leaned down, nibbling softly at the skin near the corner of your jaw – then soothed over it with a lick of his warm, flattened tongue.

You bit back a laugh, pushing him away. Finally, he seceded, leaving you alone so that he could sit down on the chair on the balcony and watch you.

Your husband spoke up. You had almost forgotten he was there. In a few short words, he shattered your entire world; 

"I'm being stationed in Tokyo."

a/n: ermmmmmmm... heyyyyy... how yall doin.... ok now look. don't hate me. you know after all that sugar i gave yall i had to throw in a curveball, cmon. (this is a notiddygothgf fanfic after all). dont be too mad, i'll be back shortly!!! the plot thickens from here. I wonder what will happen?? (jk i already know but id love to hear what YALL think will happen). (you know mama always makes it up to you bbs). THANK YOU FOR ALL OF YOUR UNWAVERING SUPPORT! You guys and ur comments literally keep me going. Part of me never wants this story to end (which is crazy bc it was originally a one shot lmfao.). anyway not too much more, love yall!! ciao pookies! x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[pricegouge]

Fatted Rabbit, Part Thirteen on AO3

Content

Bearshifter!Price x reader | explicit

"No bones, either. Like a man stripped naked, then got absolutely atomized not ten feet away. Poor bastard, huh? Weirdest part was the way the tracks died. They shouldn't've, you know? Too muddy. So I poked around some more. Found the guy's wallet. Wanna take another guess whose it was?" There's a pit in your stomach but you're not sure why. You know who he's gonna say; know John didn't get eaten by a bear. But you don't know what he's getting at, what he thinks he saw. Distantly, you remember how he talks to himself when he thinks you can't hear. "Was it John's?" Finger gun, pointer finger flush against your temple. "Bingo."

A/N Well I did it. Someone gets eaten this chapter so sayonara if that's not for you. I don't think it's gratuitous, but also I'm a gore hound and my standards aren't normal so proceed with caution if you must. As a heads up, this is the beginning of the end, folks. I think there'll only be two, maybe three chapters after this :(

Simon's resolve finally breaks when John takes a winding corner in the foothills of the bighorns too quick and they nearly roll over the guardrail. His grip on the holy shit handle, white knuckled and muscle bunching as it had been for hours, yanks down hard enough to break it and even he can't play that off casually, although he's sorely tempted to try when he realizes Price is too focused on the road to have noticed. Simon sighs and throws the handle out the window before telling Price to pull over. He's ignored, so he snaps his fingers obnoxiously in John's face and nearly gets them bit off in the process.

"Fuck off, Riley," John growls, shoving the other man's hand away, but Simon persists, shoving right back.

"Pull over now , Price."

"Nearly there," John mutters, accelerator never wavering.

"Roight, but the plan is to get there, yeah?"

John risks taking his eyes off the road for exactly two seconds in order to glare at his passenger. Simon, of course, glares right back, hopefully managing to make it look apathetic despite the fact he'd recently torn a piece of Price's car off. 

"Pull over, cap. I'll drive."

"And what'll I do?"

"Not kill us for a start," Simon grumbles and John snarls but complies anyway. It's a quick exchange, and soon Price is simmering in the passenger seat while Simon tears through the countryside at a slightly less lethal pace. It's bad for him, probably; leaves his mind free to wander and envision worse and worse scenarios. Simon hopes it fuels the fire, leaves the general din of anxiety in his gut roiling. He's been beside himself since he'd heard Graves come through that door, sitting up stiff as a board as he yelled through his earpiece for the bird to wake up. It's not good, but it's useful. Himself, he remains as quiet as ever, content to let John simmer, and by the time they make it to the motel where the bird's phone last pinged from, he's damn near frothing at the bit.

Simon pulls up alongside the Wrangler and John is jumping out before the Suburban is even fully parked. The driver's side door hangs slightly open, battery evidently dead after keeping the dome light on half the night. Simon studies the ground around it while John inspects the car thoroughly. He finds a set of keys not far off, crouches to get them and pops back up in the passenger window, watches as his longtime friend sniffs the driver's seat like a bloodhound. He briefly wonders how well a joke would go over right then, thinks better of it when John snarls something at him that sounds maybe a little like 'What?'

Simon just shakes his head minutely, weighing options he knows Price is too wound up to consider. If the Jeep is left here, someone will eventually come to tow it. And then someone will need to be billed, and cops will get involved. But John's found blood on the door, and Simon very much doubts they'll want cops sniffing around by the end of this.

"Jump it," Simon instructs, dangling the keys at John. I'm gonna go see what the clerk knows."

"I'll come with -."

"You won't. You're too distracted, and I'm scarier. Jump it." He lobs the keys over the roof of the Jeep and Price grumbles but complies, returns to stewing.

The reception area is dim, mildewy, the carpet so thin and threadbare the concrete dust of the subflooring puffs around each of Simon's quiet, careful bootfalls. There's no one at the desk so Simon takes it upon himself to slide behind it and knock the mouse of the computer just to see if it's locked. It is, of course, because nothing can go right anymore, so he thumps the help bell hard enough to break it and sits to await the clerk, for all appearances just as patient as ever.

Simon can hear the clerk muttering to himself about customers as he rounds the door of the office in the back, voice thin and high. He half expects Anthony Perkins, gets frumpy old James Stewart with a hell of a black eye instead. The man stops dead when he spots Simon, takes a half a step back before thinking better of it and trying to square his shoulders up. "You're not s'pposed to be back here," he gripes, thick American accent adding to the vague washed up aura of him.

Simon ignores him. "Where'd you tha' shiner?"

The man falters a bit, squeezes an old-looking ice pack in his fist absently. They both track the movement, and when Simon looks up again, the man - Les, by his nametag - has a grim, resigned look about him. "What d'you want?"

"Wanna know who you lost a fight against, first. Then I wanna see some security footage."

"I can't disclose that to anyone but -."

"No, but you will."

"And why would I do that, now?"

"We'll get there," Simon grumbles, leaning forward in the seat until it creaks ominously under his weight. "Who gave you the beat down, Les?"

The man sighs, gives up pretending he's not in pain and plasters the ice pack back to his face. "Didn't give a name."

"I'd imagine not, but you can do better than that."

"I don't know, man, Jesus. Blond fella. Sharp nose."

Simon leaves a beat of silence where another person would hum contemplatively. "And what did you give 'im?"

Under all the swelling, Les pales. "Nothin'."

It's hard giving a man an unimpressed glare, when you make it a point to look unimpressed every moment of your life. Still, Simon must manage it because the clerk visibly wilts, shuffles. "You a cop?"

Simon nearly laughs. "Do I look like a cop?"

"He wanted a key," Les sighs, "to a tenant's room. I swear I didn't give it to him, just her room number. Figured he'd make a hell of a commotion trying to get in and she'd have time to scram, or call for for help or somethin'. But then he hopped the desk and nabbed it. Shoulda seen that comin'," Les huffs, no humor. "I'm sorry if she's your girl, I just didn't know how to stop him."

"And you didn't think to call the authorities when you 'eard 'im peeling out and saw the Wrangler was left ajar?"

"Didn't notice -." He cuts himself off when Simon raises his eyebrows sharply. "We don't… like cops comin' 'round here, 'specially at night. Figured I'd wait 'til she missed check out and call then."

"Gave 'im a hell of a head start," Simon observes, patience growing thin.

Les shrugs dejectedly. "I panicked, man. Had shit goin' on here last night. It was either she goes missin' or a whole mess of people wind up in jail."

Simon lets him flounder a moment, stands to his full height and watches the effect it has on the clerk. "'ere's what we're gonna do. You're gonna show me that security footage like I asked -" Les attempts to interrupt but Simon carries on right over him, "- because if you don't, I will beat you within an inch of your life, call the authorities and tell them all about what you did - or didn't do -, and I'm gonna get to see the footage anyway when I tell them about my friend. And when they ask about your state, I'm going to blame it on that sharp-nosed fucker, yeah?"

Another nervous squeeze of the ice pack. Les looks around for help, finds none. "And if I let you see it, this all goes away?"

"We'll even take the Wrangler."

Les nods. "Hang on. Gotta find the password, should be in the boss's office." He turns and ducks through the door, closely followed by Simon who does not want to lose him out a back window or something.

"You're not the owner?"

"Night manager," Les grumbles, shuffling through a spiral bound notebook so old and thumbed through, the binding resembles an abused slinky. He briefly compares himself to this sorry old man, wondering if that'll be him some day, second in command of a rapidly sinking ship and makes a note to check on Price's finances. Nothing wrong with being thorough.

"Should be it," Les mutters to himself,  moving past Simon into the lobby again.

Simon watches Price through the bay window while the old man works, grumbling to himself all the while about technology he can barely understand. It takes him a bit, but Simon doesn't mind - just keeps watching as his mate grows more and more irritable. It's a gamble, probably, but Price has always had a short, effective fuse. All he needs to do is find a direction to aim the man and soon they'll all be home in time for dinner.

If Price is still hungry, that is.

He texts Gaz to make sure the man can help him if he gets a plate number, frowns at the emojis he receives in response. A thumbs up and a saluting serious face. Probably an affirmative.

"Here it is," Les finally announces, and turns the screen toward Simon. Must not want the big man coming back behind the desk again, smart lad. He does it anyway, just to be an arse.

"Is that a bloody Escalade?" Simon prides himself on keeping most emotions out of his tone, but he can't help the sneer of disgust the gaudy SUV incites.

Wes nods sympathetically. "A champagne one too, looks like."

"Christ," Simon mutters, watching as Graves drags a concerningly limp bird into the back seat. "Get me a decent shot of the tags." Wes does, eager to please now that he knows his intrusive guest will be clearing out soon. Simon copies the number over to Gaz and asks for a print out of the shot for good measure. He claps his hand on Wes's shoulder when the man produces, squeezes threateningly to gain his attention.

"Wes, you wanna hear my favorite Norman Bates joke?"

"Uh, s-sure," the man agrees, hackles raised.

"It goes like this: if I ever find out you stood idly by while another girl gets abducted, I'll come back here and taxidermy you, yeah?"

"Y-yes, sir." He has the decency to sound shamed, at least.

"Roight. That wasn't very funny, was it?" Simon hums as if in thought, pats Wes on the back too hard again as he straightens out and walks back around the desk. "Tell you what, I ever come back, I'll take another stab at it." Wes doesn't laugh, the tasteless git. Simon nods at him in paying and shuts the door unsettlingly quietly behind himself.

He's halfway across the parking lot when Gaz calls him. 

"You sure that's the right car?" The younger man greets him when Simon answers.

"Quite sure. Saw Graves pull the girl in and everything."

"Strange. It's registered to a Hershel Von Shepherd… the third."

"Two wasn't enough?"

"Apparently not. This guy's like, the real deal, bruv."

Approaching Price now, Simon puts Garrick on speaker. "What d'you mean?"

"Some high ranking general, looks like."

Simon and Price exchange a look. "She said she thought Graves knew someone high up there," Price supplies, and Gaz takes a minute to think it over.

"That shell company we found Graves works for… how likely is it looking that's some paramilitary thing?"

Simon chews that for only a second. "Very."

"Should we -?"

"'M'not worried about it." 

There's very little room for argument in Price's voice, but Gaz tries anyway. "I am. What's the plan when you pull up on a compound, eh? You lot got some Rambo shit going on I don't know about?"

"Are we headed for a compound?" Simon interjects before Price can get too heated. Best to steer clear of discussing the plan, considering the best he thinks they've got is 'sic a werebear or whatever on him and hope for the best,' and he's quite certain Price doesn't want Gaz knowing about that.

Kyle huffs. "No," he allows after a moment. "Shepherd's got a cabin down near Denver, looks like. If Graves is looking to return his buddy's car, my bets on that."

"Send the address," Price barks, already climbing up into the Wrangler. He forgot to slide the seat back first, looks bloody ridiculous, all spitting mad and folded like a paperclip.

"Cap," Garrick hedges, but Price isn't listening so Simon assures Gaz he'll talk to the boss before signing off. "Don't get yourselves killed," Gaz mutters, but hangs up all the same. 

"We need to talk," Simon announces, Captain Morgan-ing his boot into the door jamb so Price can't close it after figuring out the seat.

"Christ, Simon, I am sitting on blood splatter, now really isn't the time," Price seethes, but Simon doesn't so much as flinch.

"Think it's the perfect time, cap. Gotta have a plan." Price rolls his eyes because he's a petulant child, starts the Jeep and shoves at Simon's leg. He's mildly surprised when the old man succeeds in dislodging him but he covers it fine, steps into the way of the door. "Graves knows about you," he announces and finally, Price stills.

"Knows what?" The man growls, and Simon just keeps staring up at him blankly.

Price takes a moment to eye him over, assessing. "And what is it you think you know, Riley?" 

"Know your current plan amounts to 'go all berserker and eat 'im up in one big gulp,' but I'm telling you, if this whole paramilitary shit is true, 'e's gonna 'ave lot worse than some backwoods hunting rifle waiting for you."

There's a tic in Price's jaw as he tries to decide how much of his hand he's willing to show. Simon remains unflinching, letting the other man see exactly how unaffected he is by the truth. He's known for years anyway, plenty of time to grow used to it.

"'e thinks we're both…" Simon waves his hand demonstratively, "furries -."

"- Shifters," Price corrects, long suffering.

"Whatever. Us and Johnny. 'e's an idiot, 'course, but 'e's expecting three bears to show up, if anyone -."

"But he's not expecting anyone. That's what the mace was for." Simon raises an eyebrow in question, and John huffs in frustration. "Can't smell her. I could've tracked her by scent alone if that fucker hadn't sprayed me. I can only assume that's why he wasted time with me before going after her. Thinks he's safe."

"Still leaves me and Johnny."

"Then bluff, Simon. Pretend you got a hell of a trick up your sleeve if you have to."

Simon nods, backs up half a step but holds the door open as another thought occurs. "How'd he know to do that? Get you where it hurts?"

"Because he knows even one singular factoid about bears, I assume?"

"You don't think it's odd how quickly he accepted your fur -."

"-Shifter abilities?" Price eyes Simon over, mustache like to crawl off his face, he's so irritated by this point. "Think it's odd how quick you accepted it."

People usually shrug here, but Simon schools himself into stillness. "Unflappable, me."

"'Course. We're not done talking about this, but I haven't eaten properly since everything started tasting like mucous, and I got big dinner plans." Price plants his boot on Simon's hip and pushes him away, slams the door behind him.

"And what am I supposed to do?" Simon calls through the window glass. There's a speck of blood by the side view mirror which he tries not to think too much about.

"Well, you brought your backwoods hunting rifle, right?"

***

The cabin is nice. Suspiciously nice. Like, 'Has the man you've been committed to for the last several years been secretly married to some successful plastic surgeon this whole time?' kind of nice. But the few pictures that adorn the mantle feature an older, sterner man and his younger, conservative looking wife. No kids from what you can tell, corroborated by the lack of warmth within the walls. It's decorated well enough alright, but in that sterile kind of design you think Joanna Gaines should be brought to the Hague for. You fashion yourself a crutch from a dining chair. It's bulky and awkward, and Phil yells at you whenever you use it while he's inside, but it allows you to take stock of your surroundings, puzzle out places you can hide if need be, or items that could make a decent makeshift weapon. Unfortunately, 'rustic minimalism' leaves you with few options. Less still for a good splint. After close inspection, you'd been relieved to find the break was above your ankle, and probably only restricted to your tibia. You'd found a clothes drying rack the first night at the cabin, broke it apart while Phil slept and used the rods to brace your leg, fashioning it all in place with corded saran wrap. It wasn't great; the plastic itched where it met your skin and it slipped down your leg if you moved too much, but it was better than nothing so you made do despite Phil's mocking laughter when saw it.

Phil's ear oozes blood and pus, marks up all the starched dish towels. He doesn't eat anymore. Well, he might, but you've yet to see it. You'd drifted in and out of wakefulness on the trip down to the cabin and it was easy to assume you'd missed it, or maybe that he'd been running so full tilt that he hadn't stopped at all. It had left you starving, but it wasn't like you were about to ask him to make a special stop for you. It doesn't get better when he stops running. He goes outside a lot, says he's sick of looking at you. Through the window you can see him talking animatedly on a phone he keeps hidden on his person at all times. When he pockets it, the hem of his shirt rides up enough you can see the pistol he keeps in his waistband. You sneak uncooked pasta from the pantry while he's distracted, stay out of his way when he's not. 

He hasn't been terrible, all things considered. He likes to grab his gun through his shirt threateningly, but hasn't pulled it on you yet. You keep your head down, watch him in your periphery. He cleans his ear obsessively, mutters about old werewolf movies when he thinks you're not listening. You worry about this new Phil, this man who seems to be courting madness, and sprinkle powdered bleach on the clean rags when he's not looking, listen to him groan in pain every time he goes to clean his ear. 

The second night in the cabin finds you laid out on the bed next to him, over the blankets. The threat of him makes you physically ill, but he doesn't touch you, just stares at you malevolently in the wan light that filters in through the rough woven curtains. His ear is a pool of tar in the darkness, oily and slick. It stinks, compiling with the lingering nausea of your head wound and the general sickness his presence brings you to have you turning your nose into the pillow. It smells like straight Borax because the lady of the house probably thinks modern cleaning agents will turn her ovaries queer or something, but you breathe deep anyway, which prompts a cruel laugh from Phil.

"Don't like it, darlin'? Me neither. Got your man to thank for that, you know." It's his fighting voice - the one that warns you there is no response that could appease him. You're so tired. 

"Said he bit it off," you chomp illustratively, huff as if it's funny. You hang your finger over his wound suggestively, but your muscles are lax to show him you're no threat. " Holey field indeed."

He snarls, slaps your hand away anyway. "Think it's funny, do you?"

"A little," you admit, brace yourself for a strike that doesn't come. When you can meet his eyes again, Phil looks almost impressed. "What are we doing here, Phil?"

"Hiding out for a bit. Don't know how much you told your man."

"Why?"

"Rather not get mauled in the -."

"No, why are we here? You hate me, Phil. Why not just move on?"

Phil sighs, heavily, plants his open palm on your cheek a little too aggressively and shakes you by your jaw. "So soft, darlin'. So pretty. Simple." He flicks your temple and you flinch, head throbbing, drawing another cruel laugh. When he speaks again, his voice is low and flat. Dark. "I don't share my toys."

You try to drop it, turn back to his ear. "You still got glass in there." He doesn't, it's the bleach drying his flesh out so bad it's turning the cartilage brittle, but he can't see it properly to call you a liar so you'll take your bargaining chips where you can get them. "I'll debride it for you if you get me a splint."

He scoffs. "Glass… ain't worried about the glass, despite your best efforts."

"Human mouths are gross," you agree. "We could both go -."

"Ain't worried about the human part, neither." He sits up with an irritated sound and you keep your lips zipped, the strange stalemate you'd found yourselves in bleeding away and taking your gall with it. "That man of your's… sure know how to pick 'em, don't ya?"

You might tell him he'd left John with little choice, but you know better. Phil continues, "That bear you were friendly with. Never struck you as odd?"

It's hard to speak past the knot that builds in your throat when you realize just how closely Phil must have followed you. You don't remember seeing an Escalade around, which means he followed on foot in some places, skulked through underbrush. It's a miracle (a curse) he himself never got a bit 'friendly' with the animal. You shake your head.

"Not very bright, you. Thought about calling that thing in a few times. It's a damn freak, you know? Huge, too. Woulda made a damn fine trophy. I traced its tracks one time out of curiosity. Wanted to see where something like that kept itself hidden. You know what I found?" At your continued silence, Phil prompts you to guess. "I could give you all fuckin' night and you'd never get it, but I wanna hear you try anyway."

Well, ain't that just like him? You sigh. "I don't know, Phil. Bear shit?"

"Cute. But bears shit in the woods. Got a whole thing about it. Your buddy bear, though, he came from out by the town - manifested in a birch grove far as I could tell. Found a pile of clothes there, blood splatter a few yards off. Thought that was strange."

You do too, unable to keep the confused scowl from your face. What the fuck is he on about?

"No bones, either. Like a man stripped naked, then got absolutely atomized not ten feet away. Poor bastard, huh? Weirdest part was the way the tracks died. They shouldn't've, you know? Too muddy. So I poked around some more. Found the guy's wallet. Wanna take another guess whose it was?"

There's a pit in your stomach but you're not sure why. You know who he's gonna say; know John didn't get eaten by a bear. But you don't know what he's getting at, what he thinks he saw. Distantly, you remember how he talks to himself when he thinks you can't hear. "Was it John's?"

Finger gun, pointer finger flush against your temple. "Bingo. I thought, 'what luck!' Bastard went and took care of himself. Stood there debating whether or not I should call it in, but must've waited too long. Damn bear came back. Remembered they sometimes bury fresh kills so I sat around and watched cause nothing would've pleased me more'n to see your man all tore up. Even started filming for posterity's sake. Didn't quite get that, though," he chuckles darkly. "You wanna see something? Wasn't gonna show you cause I know how you are about gorey movies -," if he was withholding information, it wasn't to spare you. He was probably just trying to keep the upper hand. "- but I can tell already you won't believe me if I don't, so maybe this is best."

Phil digs into his pocket, procures his phone. You sit in apprehensive silence as he flips through it. "Hold my hand if you get scared, darlin'," he drawls, turning the screen towards you and pressing play. 

There's no denying it's your bear, at least. Tall and broad as a shed, strange shaggy quality of his collar that makes him look bearded. He lumbers into frame with his head lowered, snuffles around the pile of clothes Phil had mentioned. His ears pin back at whatever he finds and peers around for a bit, nose held high. But whatever he finds can't be too concerning because he settles back after a moment, shakes his great hairy body. And keeps shaking. 

It sloughs off him in one great pelt, leaving spare few patches to dot the sinewy, thin-skinned freak which stands on its hind legs and stumbles away from its own flesh. You watch in horror as it groans in pain, oddly jointed arms reaching blindly to keep tree limbs from scraping its tender flesh. It looks like raw chicken until it doesn't, flesh bubbling as if being cooked, growing darker and tougher as it reshapes itself. It pants in exhaustion when it finally stops, familiar weathered hand stroking down a broad, inviting chest as if to take inventory of itself.

John pats his hips in satisfaction, points at his discarded clothes as if he'd lost track of them for a second. He dresses himself efficiently and does one more pat down to be sure he hasn't forgotten anything and then walks off, calm as can be. 

You can feel Phil's eyes on you, but it's hard to school your expression into anything other than abject terror. He's smiling when he pulls the phone away from you, your reaction all he needed to know you hadn't been bluffing, that you honestly had no idea what John was capable of.

"Just when you think you know a guy, huh?"

***

Phil brings you outside with him after coffee. You try to demure, hoping to snag some more dry pasta, but he says the sun will do your head some good. You doubt it, even just the threat of it peaking through the tops of the pines enough to lance pain down your optic nerve, but it's not like you can very well fight him on it, so you let him guide you onto the porch and watch while he goes about setting up wood to chop. You wonder if it's a threat tactic and stifle a laugh when his diminished arms struggle with the maul after only a few logs. You tune out after that, unwilling to be caught so much as grinning at his expense, and think about your conversation the night before.

It makes sense, is the biggest problem you're having with the whole thing. 

You' laid awake all night thinking through every interaction you'd ever had with either John or the bear - with him , you suppose, in both cases. It's shocking to say the least, but in a strange way, you're almost relieved. All the fears he'd been keeping tabs on you, all the convenient excuses you'd had to craft to explain them away; all your worries, tied away with one extremely unlikely ribbon. You'd still need to have a talk with him about using his other form to keep tabs on people if you ever got a chance to speak to him again, but somehow it's less malicious this way. It's not his fault you'd decided to use a wild animal as a therapist, after all.

Mostly you're mad he didn't tell you, though you can't really fault him for playing that close to the chest. More than that, you're mad at Phil for taking it upon himself to spread the information around. You watch him as he works, eyeing his ear suspiciously. He'd told you before turning in that he was worried he'd wind up like John. You were worried too. John made for a sweet bear, if a little intimidating. Something tells you Phil would not have the same temperament. 

"Had a dream you were a fox," you call to him after the silence grows too long.

Phil frowns up at you. "A fox?"

"Yeah. Right before you… revealed yourself, back at the motel. Was dreaming about the bear trying to wake me up. And then it was a fox. Looked kinda like you. And then it was you."

He chuckles, hefts the maul a little closer to himself. "A fox, huh? That how it works, you think? What's that make you, big boy? Damn mountain lion?"

You frown in confusion, follow his line of sight off to your right. "Simon!" you gasp, leaping to your feet. You forgot about your leg in your excitement, however, and stumble down the porch steps with a yelp.

"Careful, darlin'. Gonna get yourself hurt," Phil laughs, siddling closer to you. He yanks you to your feet and places you between himself and Simon. It takes you a moment to understand why, eyes taking in the rifle he's got aimed at Phil belatedly.

Simon is silent as he stalks out from behind the cabin, heavy boots never so much as snapping a twig. You wonder how Phil even noticed him, and then wonder if he let himself be noticed. "Olright, pet?" he calls softly, and you nod, eyes scanning the treeline.

Phil brings the business end of the maul to your throat. It's not terribly sharp, but it wouldn't take too much effort to throw you across the steps and split your head open and the threat is clear. You swallow your panic and hang on to his forearm for support. 

"Where're your buddies?" Phil's voice is high with nervous tension. You think your's would be the same if asked to speak.

"'Round," Simon drawls, kicks a rock over when Phil's anxious circling nearly turns you both around.

It works. Phil twists back toward the sound and Simon carries on, nonchalant, making more noise. Your breath comes rapidly, in through your nose, out through your mouth. You think you can smell something musky on the breeze, and your grip slides down your captor's arms, toward his hands.

"Hold still," Phil warns, and Simon draws to a halt. A soft shuffling noise continues despite his stillness and Phil spins to meet it. Your bad leg takes most of your weight and you stumble to the ground. 

A deafening crack echoes in the small clearing and Phil slumps over you, his shoulder a mangled mess. You're still trying to process what happened when an ear splitting roar shakes the very ground and you look up to find the bear thundering at you from the treeline. Phil sees him too, and the two of you scramble for the maul. He kicks you in the shin cause he's a bastard, so you use his leverage to help you push the sledge against his shoulder. He grunts in pain and you wrench it from his grasp, start to roll out of his reach when a lethal click stops you dead.

It's not you he's aiming at, though. 

Two quick, successive shots. You turn in time to see the bear falter, the hump of its back shaking with impact. It doesn't stop for long. A few more steps and the bear's on him. It - John - sinks his teeth into the meat between Phil's scapulas, tries to stop on a dime, can't, goes tumbling over with Phil still clamped in his jaws. Phil gets slammed into the ground with a sickening crunch that turns his screams into silent wheezes. John settles his weight on top of Phil's prone body and holds his head down with a massive paw so he can pull against it, tearing muscle as easily as the thin cotton of his shirt when he shakes his head like a dog.

Phil's screaming again. John doesn't seem inclined to stop it until the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding whistles out of your chest raggedly. The bear asses you for a moment, chewing contentedly on the scrap of flesh between his teeth like a cow with cud. Your eyes dart from John to the dying man below him rapidly, unsure what you're asking for.

John grumbles, but wraps his maw around the column of Phil's throat and bites down hard enough that Phil's screams turn to gurgles, give way to a sickening crunch. When he pulls away, a fat tongue licks the geyser of blood and finally, your stomach roils.

"Let's get you inside, pet." You wipe your mouth, turn to find Simon crouched next to you. "No need to see this." 

"He's hurt." Simon looks at you like you might be simple so you clarify, "John."

You both glance at the man - bear? - in question, tearing at a scrap of viscera that sounds upsettingly like jerky. He glares at Simon ominously, as if daring him to touch you in any way that could cause offense. There's blood matting the fur of his back and shoulder but he pays it no mind. 

"Think 'e'll be olright." 

You hold a hand out, expecting to have him help you up, but the big man tucks his arms under you instead, lifts you with little more than a huff. 

"Seriously, what are they putting in the water over there?" You mutter. He'd laugh, but he's being careful of your leg. Some jostling is inevitable, though, and he hums deep in his chest in sympathy when you grimace.

He carries you back to the cabin and you watch over his shoulder as the bear turns Phil over onto his back, pawing at clothes to expose his belly.

"Scrawny bastard can't be very tasty," you quip, and here Simon does laugh. 

"You ever listen to someone eat a Slim Jim?"

"Oh god," you grumble, stomach audibly gurgling. This time Simon's laugh is a cruel thing.

He sets you up on the couch with a pillow propping up your leg. He goes back outside and you hear him yelling something about a phone. The bear lowers at him, but the wet squelching of Phil's vulnerable underbelly stops for a moment and soon after comes a dull thunk. When Simon returns, he's got Phil's phone in one hand and a thumb in the other. 

You lip curls, "Is that necessary?"

Simon doesn't even spare you a glance. "Just gotta figure out who he's told what."

"About you and John?"

"Oh, I'm not a furry." It's stupid and unexpected enough to startle a laugh out of you. Simon carries on as if there's nothing wrong with what he's said. "But yes, that. And gotta figure out if anyone's gonna come looking for 'im."

"There's a video in there," you offer, "Of John… changing. Don't know if it's backed up to anything."

"Good bird, I'll check." His eyes meet yours for a moment. "'e showed you then, I'm assuming?"

You nod. "Suppose it was for the best in the end. Would've shit myself if I saw that thing running at me without knowing what was going on." Simon nods exactly once. You take it for agreeance. "How long have you known?"

"Years. But don't tell Price that."

"He didn't tell you?"

"No. Didn't even know I knew until yesterday."

"Well then how'd you find out?"

Simon turns his big apathetic eyes on you. "'e doesn't 'ave a house in Phoenix. Telling you now, in case you're still holding out for the snowbird lifestyle."

This time when you laugh, you think you spot a slight crinkling of Simon's eyes as well.

***

An hour passes mostly in silence. You ask Simon to check on John occasionally, but he only ever says things are unchanged out there so you take that to mean John hasn't died of blood loss. You try to come to terms with everything you just witnessed, but it's still too fresh, your adrenaline too high. Instead, your thoughts circle back to John repeatedly, your fingers itching to inspect his wounds. That's probably not a normal reaction, but nothing about this situation is normal so you give yourself a break.

When John does stumble in, he's naked. Simon squawks, which would be funny to you if John wasn't also covered in blood. You try to climb to your feet to meet him, but he's on you quicker than you can even process, kneeling beside the couch and running sticky hands all over your face.

"Are you okay?" you both ask at the same time, and you nod feverishly, subject yourself to the desperate kiss he plants on you in response.

The taste of him is heavy, seems to coat your tongue. You can't help the full body shudder it elicits and John retracts, brushes wet, whiskery kisses up to your temple instead. He stays there for a moment, just breathing you in. You use it as an opportunity to peer over his shoulder, inspect his back. He's leaning away again before you can make sense of what you see back there.

John holds your face between his massive palms. He looks you over, eyes desperate and wild. You give him a reassuring smile, hold onto his forearms while he tries to wipe some of the blood off you. Smears it, if the way he frowns at his dirty hand is any indication.

"That your blood?"

"I wish," he growls, and uses the hem of your shirt to try wiping it off. 

"You wish?"

"You already smell enough like him." You finch when he presses against your head too hard and his scowl deepens.

"Here." A towel lands over John's head, another on the floor next to him. You grimace at Simon apologetically and try to get John covered while he completely ignores your attempts, focused entirely on cleaning the blood off you, hands much gentler this time. 

"John, I'm fine."

"Not fine, bunny," he seethes. You blink at him, but give him a pass when you realize he's mad at your state. "What happened?"

"How about we get cleaned up first, eh?"

"We have to get you to a hospital."

"Me?" you scoff. "You got shot!"

He shakes his head. "Don't worry about me. Simon, go get the car, yeah? We gotta -."

"Okay everybody hang on. You are naked and covered in a dead guy's blood. Let's deal with that first."

"Bunny -."

"And then I think we should get our story together before we waltz our hot fresh gunshot wound slash old broken leg combo into a hospital." The words are out before you've even thought them through - what it means for you, that you'll be an accomplice to your own ex's… murder? It's not murder if a wild animal kills and eats you. John isn't a wild animal, but it's not like he was all there mentally at the time either. 

You hope.

Well, maybe it would be okay if he knew what he was doing, but you're gonna delicately avoid saying that outloud.

John's mustache twitches irritably, but Simon looks about as supportive of your idea as you think he's capable of appearing. Nodding, John stands and tucks his towel around his waist. His belly is so full it's nearly distended and you try not to think about it too hard. You're not surprised when he picks you up. Simon tactfully turns away in case there's a wardrobe malfunction, but the towel stays firmly in place as John carries you down the hall. You know where he's headed and you point the way to the master bath.

What does surprise you is the way he strips you too, unwinds your makeshift splint so achingly carefully. His palms are impossibly light when they smoothe over the indents the saran wrap has left in your skin and you both frown at the bruising which has pooled under your skin.

"That's gotten worse," you comment, and John presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, breathing in the sweat there deeply.

The shower is blessedly huge. John gets the water to a comfortable temperature before helping to lower you to the tiled floor. He doesn't even bother to wash any blood off before he's plastering himself to your side and burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. Red runoff slips over both of you, swirls in the drain. Your hands are on his scalp, his neck, his shoulders. They trace the rivulets of water down his back and he grunts when you find the first open sore.

"You know they call the police for gunshot wounds."

John shakes his head. It jiggles your tit a bit when he does it, enmeshed as he is with you. "Clean through."

"What?" Pushing him away, you drag a palm over his chest in search of the other wound but he just holds your hand in place over his pec. 

"Through my shoulder hump, sweetheart. In my other form. I'll be fine in a few days."

Confused and unbelieving, you push at him until he turns to show you: a gnarly hole over his lower ribs which bleeds profusely, and a smaller, far less concerning mark up over his scapula which somehow looks already knotted over. It doesn't make sense here, but you suppose if you twisted and contorted his body enough you could draw a straight line between the two. Still, you drag your thumb gingerly under the cleaner of the two wounds, watch the tender skin jump. 

"How is this nearly closed over?"

John shrugs. "Quick healer."

You suppose it makes sense, after the horror you watched his own body inflict upon itself in Phil's video. All that skin remaking itself. "Of course."

"Told you it's you I'm more worried about." He leans back against the wall, cradles your entire face in his palm. 

"I'm good now," you try to convince him, but suddenly your voice is anything but and John crumples.

"Do I scare you?"

Your lip wobbles, unauthorized. You shake your head before you can really think it through, and then sob in relief when he wraps you in an all-consuming hug and you realize it's the truth. He should scare you. He really should. But for better or worse, the only thing you feel wrapped up in his strong arms like this is safe.

It's hard to stop the tears once they start but John holds you all the while, occasionally pulling away just enough to inspect your face and kiss your eyelids, your nose. You hold him back as best you can, but the angle is awkward so you mostly just end up stroking his hairy chest and you both know you've cried yourself out when your fingers get picky, start combing icky bits out of his pelt.

John lets you groom him, scrub away every last trace of Phil. He cleans you too, careful to filter water through his hands when he sees you flinch as the hard water pressure beats against your bruised scalp. You make him rinse his mouth, pick something that looks like bone from his chops and surprise yourself with how well you handle it, watching apathetically as the suds push it along toward the drain. It's possible Phil didn't quite deserve this fate, but you decide it's not your job to determine that; you're just glad to be free of him.

"Gonna remember the way you crushed his throat until the day I die, I think," you murmur, inspecting his nails and hairy knuckles.

John goes still. "I'm sorry you saw that, bun -." 

"Not a bad thing, John." When you risk meeting his eye, you're met with an intense, desperate gaze. 

"Don't leave me again, bunny." 

You feel like an idiot, throwing yet another item onto the pile of forgiven things that would have sent you running even just a few weeks ago. But it's not a threat when John says it; just a raw, honest plea. This man's tracked you across multiple states, revealed his deepest secret for you. Killed for you. And still, he doesn't demand you return with him or hold all these things he's elected to do of his own accord over your head. Just begs you to stay. 

He still tastes like blood when you kiss him, but it's just more fuel for the pyre of forgiven, ignored warnings.

A/N Want you guys to know that I figured out the choreography of this bear attack by wrestling with my infinitely patient dogs, so if you ever need a good pick me up, just imagine looking out your window one day and seeing your fat neighbor putting their 70lb dog through a death roll and pretending to rip its throat out, snarling all the while as if they've gone fucking rabid.

Next>>

[glassrowboat]

Red Ribbon. Chiori.

Summary: A not so peaceful morning with your girlfriend. Well, not when you're up to mischief anyway.

Word count: 900+

Authors note: The start of a small series I'm going to write of the seven colors of the rainbow in ribbons with some of our genshin faves! Also, a slight spoiler for Chiori's kit.

The small shop was always such a cozy place to huddle up in, the one specific chair that had been covered in loose scraps of cut out fabric currently occupied with your figure as you fiddle with a spool of something or another. Pretty red ribbon right under your fingers as Chiori slowly walks around the pinup body adorned with a dress.

The click of those overly complicated heels filled the room as you watched Chiori circle around the mannequin in the center of the room, its fabric body adorned in layers of cloth. Another commision she was working on no doubt as she snipped a loose thread. Precise as possible, that is until she tries to toss it over at you.

The string falling on the ground between you two. Apparently it was your fault you had become her designated place to pile scraps after you took the chair she would usually use for such a task. Red ribbon being wrapped around your finger and undone again and again mindlessly as you watched her.

“Now where did I put that?” Talking to herself again, a habit she would never openly admit to, Chiori pat down the apron she had on that held her tools. “(Y/n) have you seen-”

“This?” Holding up the spool of ribbon you had been playing with a smile easily crossed your features, even as her eyes narrowed. “No, I haven't.”

“Then you have no issue giving it to me.” Walking over to you Chiori tried to snatch the item in your hand, her sleeves rustling from the action as they flowed behind her. You never got how those kimono sleeves didn't get in her way all the time but she always pulled it off somehow. Good for her.

That however wasn't enough of a reason to give in as you climbed up further on the chair, feet pushing against the cushion as you stood up from your curled up position, knees no longer pushed up against your chest as you held her prize high in the air.

Hopefully she doesn't deem this offense enough of one to use her visions abilities. Stupid teleportation abilities.

“If I recall correctly, taking possession of another's items could be considered a crime. Would you truly really want me to take you to court over this, (Y/n)?” A flick of her dress, those same sleeves billowing in the wind as she crossed her arms. Oh she was so cute when she tried to look mad.

Deciding to play along you held the ribbon up higher, making sure it was above even your head. “Well, when I go down to the Fortress of Meropide should I come back with a fit rate of the Guards uniforms?”

Wait, is she actually considering it? Head tilting, pretty brown hair shifting over her shoulder as Chiori stood in silence before softly shaking the thought off. “Just give me the ribbon back.”

Huh, this must be for a commission if she's being such a little stickler. Not that that would lessen your need for a bit of mischief. As they say, breaks are healthy. “How about a deal?”

“A deal for my own possessions?”

What's a synonym for stickler again? Hypercritic, perfectionist, nitpicker.

“Don't make it sound like that.” Even if it is true. “Come on pretty, a kiss is all I want and then I'll give it back. Please?”

A small sigh could be heard as she glanced back between her prize and you. Red ribbon tickling at your wrist as the spool unwound from your earlier actions. A standoff is currently happening in Fontaine's very own Chioriya Boutique. At least there's no guns involved, just a miffed geo vision haver and her lover.

“You make such a big deal over a kiss?” She asked, brows furrowing as she looked up at you. “Next time just ask instead of acting like this.”

But where's the fun in that?

“Well?”

Leaning down just enough so she could get on the tip of her toes, or more like those heels, you pucker your lips to try and coax her into giving what you wanted.

Oh that heavy sigh. Yet there her pretty face was coming in closer. The details of Chiori's eyeshadow clear to you, the pretty light tint of powder as her eyelashes fluttered closed. “Fine.” And with that she kissed you.

The rich, heavy taste of coffee from Cafe Letece you had gotten for her earlier filling your senses. She had always been so insistent the run there was better than opening some random can she had imported over from Inazuma despite the fact she went through all the effort to have Kirara deliver it in the first place. Perhaps it was the fact she was so selective when she wanted the taste of home.

Well, the taste of your home was her as Chiori slowly pulled away. Her soft lips abandoning yours as the spool was snatched from her hand, robbed right under your fingers as the cardboard that it was wrapped around was replaced for air. Not even the sticker smacked on top labeling the thing for sale you had been picking at earlier was clinging onto your skin.

How rude.

“Beautiful,” you cried out as you hopped off the arm chair, stumbling over the floor as you landed, trying to chase after her in the small shop. “Wait, wait! Come back I want another!”

“Then it seems you'll have to find more ribbon to bargain with.”

Ignoring you Chiori went back to the pin up mannequin in the center of the room, holding up a strip of the ribbon to the sleeves of the dress as she pinned it in place with small metal needles.

Well…that's your girl alright.

“Love you, my pretty.”

[airbendertendou]

sunscreen and doughnut shaped floats! ♥︎ tokyo revengers

anon requested : Hello, may I please request the Tokyo Revengers characters (as many and anyone you feel like including) + the reader having a water fight (with balloons, water guns and hoses)? I loved the karaoke night with Toman!!

synopsis : a pool day with toman! gender neutral reader wears a swimsuit and puts on sunscreen. [name] used in place of y/n. everyone is a lil in love w reader <3

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

Baji grins as he turns the dial on the stereo, turning the volume up even higher. A sound of protest is drowned out, the song overlapping any disagreements. A loud whoop! is heard, followed by a splash as Mikey cannonballs into the pool.

You shake your head with a small laugh as Draken waves his spatula in the air, frown on his face. The sunscreen bottle in your hand is more than half empty, slowly falling into your open palm. Cold, soft hands land on your bare shoulders, them jolting and stiffening in response.

"Sorry," Mitsuya grins at you, raising his hands. He points to the bottle in your hand, "want me to get your back? Ken's got the grill covered for now."

You nod, handing him the bottle. "Sure. Thanks, 'suya."

His grin widens, "no problem." You turn, bare back facing the lilac-hiared boy as he lathers his hands in sunscreen. You jolt, the cream ice cold and frigid as it glides onto your skin. You can feel Mitsuya's laugh as his breath hits your neck. "S'a little cold, hm, [name]?"

Letting out a huff, you stare at him over your shoulder, "yeah, a little." Mitsuya only winks in response as his hands lower to your waist. "Think I can handle it from here—"

"[Name]." Chifuyu is suddenly in front of you as he frowns. Green eyes narrow at the boy over your shoulder — you curl your lips into your mouth to stop your laughter. "Can you put that on me when you're done?"

"I don't mind doing it." But, Chifuyu ignores Mitsuya, eyes widening at you in an attempt to look innocent. Another laugh is huffed against your neck, fingers trailing around your waist until they're on your torso. "[Name]'s busy."

"Doing what?"

You clear your throat — another useless attempt to hide your amusement. "Here," you reach a hand back to Mitsuya, "I'll put some sunscreen on you while Mitusya finishes up. Alright?"

Chifuyu frowns again, but turns his back to you anyways. You lather the sunscreen into your hands, hoping to warm it up a little before putting it on him. Mitsuya laughs again — closer this time — before placing a small kiss to your shoulder.

"I'm going to help Draken out," he speaks. Chifuyu's shoulders relax at the words, moving with your hands as he's slathered with sunscreen. "Be back soon. ...Maybe tell Mitchy to get out of the sun."

The green-eyed boy turns to face you, eyes scrunching as you layer cream onto his face. He watches Mitsuya leave, "don't rush back."

You tap his nose, "don't be mean." You look to the left, where Takemichi is laying out, snoring as he slowly roasts. His skin is already reddened, tender to the touch as his sunburn worsens. "Mitchy! Lookin' lobster-like, bud!"

The blond startles, sunglasses falling to the side as he sits up. "Ack!" he lets out at the color of his skin. Big, comical tears well up in his eyes, "I look like a giant strawberry!"

Baji — ignoring everything around him other than the sound of his favorite song — slaps the blond on his back. "Lookin' good, Mitchy!"

Another whine leaves Takemichi's throat at the feeling. You let out a sigh, lightly tapping Chifuyu's shoulders. "You're all covered, 'Fuyu. Baji, be careful with Mitchy's skin, okay?"

Emma waves you over as she leans against the pool wall. You sit with your legs in the water, smiling down at her. She pouts, "Mikey won't stop splashing me."

You shake your head playfully, "Mikey, be nice to your sister."

"She doesn't play mermaids right."

Emma spins to face him, frown deepening. "You don't play right!" She crosses her arms over her chest, "you keep copying me."

Mikey shrugs, sitting on the steps of the pool as he swings his legs together, mimicking a mermaid tail. "Your ideas are better than mine. But, I want a purple to blue glitter tail and water powers."

Emma groaned, "I wanted water powers! You wanted to talk to animals."

Mitsuya comes to sit beside you, a bag of chips in his hand. He holds the bag out to you, eyeing Mikey and Emma. "You can both have water powers, right?"

"Then it's not fun anymore." Mikey turns his head with a pout. Emma lets out a sigh, rolling her eyes before swimming off. Mikey looks at you once more, "food almost done?"

"Only a few more minutes!" Smiley calls from the yard. He's helping Draken grill as Angry holds an aluminum pan for the cooked food to go in. "Go ahead and get dried off."

——♥︎——

"Baji Keisuke," you speak between teeth, "do not play in the fire like that."

The boy scowls, putting the tiny stick he'd picked up back to the ground. Draken sighs as he manages the fire, shaking his head at Mikey's marshmallow covered cheeks. Takemichi winces with every move he makes, his sunburnt skin aching and burning with the movement.

Mitsuya had gone home to care for his sisters ; Emma leaving to wash the chlorine out of her hair. Angry hands you a new marshmallow, holding a small piece of chocolate for you next. Smiley is across the fire, trying to take the designated fire stick from Draken.

"Hey," Chifuyu sits to your right, draping a blanket over your lap. "If you get any colder let me know, okay?"

You nod, taking the fully made s'more from Angry. As you bite into the sweet, you watch as Baji burns the marshmallow he has before handing it to Smiley. Mikey swoops in, though, eating the piping hot sweet directly from the stick.

"Mikey—" Draken lets out another sigh, shaking his head.

——♥︎—— airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[cositapreciosa]

Redemption

Alejandro Gillick x gn!reader, (gun wound, blood, the usual for the movies) 1047 words

a/n : super duper self-indulgent Alejandro fic cause I'll write whatever gives me wings at this point. This gif might not be from Sicario but yhlqmdlg Benicio is hot anyway

Tagging the besties-that-might-like-this as usual @narcolini @drabbles-mc @anunhealthydoseofangst

‘’ Stay still, I don't want to hurt you. ‘’

Any more than he already has. Still, it hurts when Alejandro puts his hand on your stomach, hard and warm against your abdomen. The bullet grazed you, thankfully, but deep and bloody, straight in between the Kevlar, slicing through your shirt. You can’t help but jerk when he presses his fingers into your skin, teeth baring in a hiss. It is dusk now, the sun dipping below the horizon, painting the scene orange and red. How long has it been since he left you in this ditch? Why did he even bother to come back?

‘’ You fucking shot me. ‘’

It comes out of you in a cough, as if you can’t believe it yourself. You are probably in shock, you realize, cold and losing blood for what seems like hours at this point. Where is my gun? You taste the blood in your mouth as you speak again. Where am I?

‘’ You fucking shot me. ‘’

You struggle against his hold, opposite hand grabbing his wrist in an attempt to get free. Let me go, you want to tell him, let me be, but it feels like paste in your mouth, dried tongue, you can’t get the words out.

‘’ Stay still. ‘’ He pushes back, and you can do nothing but let him, ‘’ They would have shot you anyway, your cover is blown. ‘’

‘’ Yeah, no shit. ‘’

Every word feels like sandpaper in your throat, scratching on its way out, keeping you from saying more mean and distasteful things. You let yourself fall back against the sand, letting the dust settle again in your lungs. Matt had told you they had caught rumours of your CIA affiliation through the low ranks, but you still went anyway, believing you could work your way through it. Pinches narcos de mierda. Alejandro fetches gauze out of his backpack, pulling you closer to cut the strap of your bulletproof vest with his knife. You feel blood moving down your chin.

‘’ If you heard what they were telling me they would do to you before you got there maybe you wouldn’t be so feisty about this. ‘’

‘’ You threw me in a ditch. ‘’

‘’ And they think you’re dead, you’re welcome. ‘’

He gently wipes the blood off your chin with his glove before turning his attention back to your shirt. It tugs on your skin as it separates from the dried blood, raw, stiff, a new colour from what it was this morning. You let Alejandro turn you to your side, inspecting the wound he inflicted, tucking your face in his elbow as he presses the tissue on your wound.

‘’ You’ve lost a lot of blood, but it’s not that deep, you’ll be fine. ‘’

‘’ I’m surprised they don’t think you’re CIA now- ‘’

You hiss when he starts moving the tape around your torso, pulling it tighter every time he starts another round.

‘’ I guess shooting you was a good move, they don’t suspect a thing. ‘’

Idiots, you want to say, all of them. You remember them dragging your body in the back of a car, carelessly tossed across the seat next to Alejandro, you remember how easy it was to play dead, how cold you were, how the pain made your whole body numb, Alejandro’s hand on your vest to keep you from rolling over as they drove in circles for hours.

‘’ It’s a fucking miracle. ‘’

That he isn’t dead, that you aren’t, that no one caught your whimpers after every bump or Alejandro softly shushing you afterwards. A fucking miracle.

‘’ You tell me. ‘’

He issues no warning as he pulls you up, knees bending, one hand on your shoulder, the other creasing your shirt in a tight grip. His movements are tactical, precise, moving your body in a way that works for him when your whole being can’t seem to follow. Alejandro wraps his hand around your neck as it swings back. You can feel the blood rushes back to your head, feel it in your throat. Hey, he says, stay with me, but the words barely make it to you, everything is thick and foggy and-

Hey, don’t die on me now. The world comes back in a buzz, loud and crackling in between your ears. ‘’ Matt will have my head if you die like this, you hear me? ‘’

His fingers are warm around your scalp, pressing a little, to make sure you really are here, back with him. You notice his eyes for the first time, how brown they are, deep, honeyed, the slight wrinkles that shape between his eyebrows when he frowns.

‘’ Loud and clear. ‘’ You mumble as he steadies you once again.

‘’ Good. ‘’ Good. You can see the relief cross his face, the weight that leaves his shoulder. ‘’ Think you can walk? ‘’

‘’ I don’t know, you tell me. I didn’t shoot myself, did I? ‘’

He scoffs, dismissing your sarcasm, you could mistake it for a laugh, ‘’ I missed for a reason. Let’s get you home, yeah? ‘’

Alejandro doesn’t pick up on your answer, something along the lines of it being a waste of time, that you are cold already, weak. Cállate, he wants to tell you, Cállate, you can do this, let me. He wants to try, for you, for him. And he does, he drags you through the desert, hiding in the streets, makes sure you press ‘right there, hard’ whenever he changes your bandages. His hands slip and hurt, but he does, he has to.

Told you so, he wants to say when he finally sees the bright lights, but he doesn’t. The second he makes it to camp, he brings you to the infirmary first, before Matt, before the men at the gates can ask any questions or take into account the blood that stains both of you. Told you so, but he keeps his mouth shut and tries to forget the way his finger hesitated on the trigger this morning, even when he knew it had to be done, that he hates how relieved he felt when he realized you were still alive.

He hates it, but it is true, it seems pretty clear to him now why he even bothered to come back.

Told you so.

[blingblong55]

Match -John 'Soap' MacTavish

Based on a request:

heyyy :D I'm kind new round here but wanted to request something :3 [idk if there's rules to this u don't have to do this] could I plz request masc!reader x dom!soap fluff? like just cute stuff? light teasing but other than that they're just being cute together? idk he's my comfort character anyways love you <3 *mwah* ---- GN!Masc!Reader, fluff, dom!Soap?, established!relationship, teasing? ----

A/N: Honestly, I'll probably come back to this one and rewrite it so if its absolute shit, I'm sorry

You were the scientist on base, Soap was in charge of watching over your section. "So, what's this do?" he points to a beaker with green liquid. "Don't touch it, if dropped it will burn your skin." You said with a neutral tone. "Love, c'mon, yer think I'm that dumb?" he walks over to you. "Is my pretty scientist that worried she is dating a dumb soldier?" his arms wrapped around you. "No," you smile, giving up that neutral face you had previously. "Good, you know, bonnie, if yer were dating another smart guy, yer wouldn't have this much fun," his hands trailing down to your inner thighs.

You walk away, "I'm busy Johnny," you remind him and walk to the cabinet. "Oh, is my little nerd too busy for their boyfriend?" You look at him, "I'm not a nerd." He chuckles, "Let me fix that," he clears his throat, "Is my big dummy too busy for their boyfriend?" he smirks. "Shut up," you laugh lightly.

Your lab coat off as you begin to write on the files. He leans on the door frame, arms crossed as he gives you that teasing look. "You look so cute when you think, my little dummy" he chuckles and inspects his gun, but keeping his gaze on you. "You know why it's bad to tell a chemistry joke to a chemist?" Another joke he'd say. "Because they always react" he begins to laugh hard. You can't help but laugh with him. He walks over to you. "C'mon darling, what'da say we head back home and I teach you how to use me?" Blue puppy eyes on yours. "Johnny, don't start. I'm seriously busy," you brush him off but he can't have that.

He leans over the lab table and watches you, his calloused fingers playing with your lab's badge. "You look so cute in this picture, you'd look cuter if you had even shorter hair." He brushes your hair and smiles. "Even shorter? No way, I know where this is going. I'm not getting a mohawk," you chuckle. "Oh c'mon, imagine how cute we'd look, me with my mohawk and you with yours, we'd be the perfect couple." He smiles and winks.

"Mm, no." He chuckles, "Fine, love." His warm lips on your cheek, "At least let me get some cuddles after this. My little dummy deserves some cuddles for being so smart," he whispers by your ear. It wasn't that he wanted to pull you away from your job but he knew you'd been working on the research for over 12 hours and he knew rest was much needed. He of course had luck, with you and him walking back to your quarters and cuddling. The bed sheets are warm, his arms holding you tight as he brushes your hair.

"You think we can go and annoy the LT?" "Want to go do it now?" You suggest and he grins "I call shots in annoying him at dinner." "Only if I can tell him some terrible joke that makes him mad." "Deal." And so you both go to the common room and annoy Ghost, something that has become usual and fun for both of you. "You two are disgustingly made for each other." Ghost says as he is squished between both of you. "We know," Soap and you say at the same time, Soap giving you a soft kiss on the forehead.

A/N: Not really proud of it but I do hope you like it at least <3

Tags: @queen-ilmaree @sad1st1c-wh0re @stupendousstrangerdreamer

[alex-rambles]

Hey! Could we please have a oneshot Bill x Reader where during the events of weirdmagedon, the reader gets fatally injured by a rogue time cop and Bill becomes sad and VERY PISSED OFF

Yes, of course you can!

"YOU."

His voice is loud and demanding as he points a slightly trembling finger at the beanpole of a man.

"You just messed up. You messed up REAL bad, buddy."

Bill's voice is shaking, an extreme rarity. He's angry, he's sad, he's every negative emotion.

The time cop stares at Bill, his cocky expression turning to one of fear.

"Dwayne," one of his fellow officers yells. "You're lucky that-that thing just killed Time Baby, or he'd gum you to death! You should've stuck to your or-"

Bill hits the other time cop with a small ray, and she evaporates.

"Dwayne" shudders, pointing his ray gun at Bill.

"Cease and desist-"

"No, YOU cease and desist. I could say something about how you just killed one of your fellow mortals, which goes against your own laws, not that I care anyway, but instead I'll focus on the fact that that human- THAT HUMAN-"

Bill seems to be at an utter loss for words.

Instead, he says, "Y'know what? I'm not going to sit and explain myself. You don't deserve it! Ha! I knew there was a reason I related to the humans who went around screaming 'all cops are bastards!'"

Dwayne's gun suddenly flies into Bill's hand.

"Tell me, do you like riddles? Because riddles are my thing, 'Dwayne.'"

As Bill says "Dwayne," his voice becomes filled with contempt.

"Answer me this. What do you call a cop that lost their weapon?"

Dwayne stares up at Bill, his eyes widening.

Before he can answer, Bill fumbles with it slightly, cursing at how complicated human weapons are compared to finger lasers, and points it at him.

Bill pulls the trigger.

"Dead! They're dead, because they can't defend themselves!"

Dwayne seems to turn to a cloud of dust, scattering into the wind.

Bill shrinks back into his Fearamid, the Henchmaniacs following closely.

"If anyone speaks to me, I will wear their teeth as a necklace. If you don't have teeth, I needed a new footrest anyway."

He throws himself onto his throne, laying down on the armrest before remarking that although it looks cool, a throne made of people is bumpy and uncomfortable. He settles for floating above it like usual.

He plays with the gun thing for a moment before destroying it. He doesn't need the reminder of the weapon that killed you.

Bill can't bring back the dead.

The one power that would be oh-so convenient right now, he doesn't have.

Sure, he can make the heart beat and make the brain 'work,' but then they really are a meat computer that lacks personality. After all, the soul reincarnates as soon as the previous body dies. And the soul dictates everything.

Besides, your body is dust now, just like Dwayne's.

Bill's hands clench when he thinks that your remains might have mixed with that scum's in the wind.

[fireflylitsky]

TELL ME ABOUT THE AKATSUKI 90S HEIST AU RIGHT MEOW :sakuguncat:

WELL OKAY IF YOU INSEEST

So, it's exactly what it sounds like XD Pain is putting together a very specific crew to pull off a massive heist (we are stealing from Danzo y'all). It's set in the 90's because I don't want to deal with accounting for modern security technology, I just want heist shenanigans. Also, the 90's are just fun.

The opening is just kind of an introduction of all the members and their roles for this particular job. (I watched a lot of heist things for this). Anyway, I'll share Kakuzu's bit for youuuu (SHOCKINGLY NOT KAKUHIDA--I am thinking KakuKonan for this but idk yet, I'll have to see how it plays out)

“Hidan…” the monstrously large man beside him growled, his voice even rougher than his disposition. It wasn’t scolding, it was warning. 

That was Kakuzu. The two were kind of a package deal. Where Kakuzu went, Hidan followed. You’d think given something like that, there was some fondness between them. 

Yeah, that wasn’t it.

Hidan left something to be desired for Kakuzu on most levels. He was always missing two things at any given point—a shirt and a fucking brain. Most levels though. Not all.

The guy could take a hit, take it and take it well. He had more plates and screws in his body than any human ought to. Too many nerve endings dulled over his years of brawling—being broken and getting ‘fixed’—that he couldn’t feel a fucking thing anymore. That kinda thing came in useful in a fight. 

Not to mention, he didn’t mind getting his hands dirty. In fact, he didn’t mind getting them downright filthy. 

He liked it.

Turning faces into something resembling your grandma’s homemade jam was quite possibly the only thing he was good at, but damn, was he good at it.

His partner would do it if he had to, but with Hidan, well, Kakuzu never really had to. He was too old for that shit anyway. He wasn’t such a fossil that he’d lost his impressively overbearing physique, but muscle was easy to find. 

Expertise and experience? Now that was a scarcity in high demand. 

Most people didn’t stay in the game as long as Kakuzu had, they either died out or dipped out. So if you had your sights on a big enough mark, enough to pay for Kakuzu’s name-brand assistance, you knew you were getting the real deal.

And Kakuzu was all about a deal. That suitcase next to him? The one that looked like it might be filled with guns? Yeah, it wasn’t. If you opened it, you’d find the most meticulously clipped and organized display of coupons and vouchers you could possibly imagine. No bullshit.

No one dared say a word about it though. No one still alive, anyway.

Anything to save buck, which brings us right back to Hidan. That guy seemed plenty content to be paid in sex, violence and bbq spare ribs. A few loose, bloodied teeth scattered across the asphalt was like a fucking tip to him.

Most people were in ‘the life’ for the money. Hidan genuinely just enjoyed it. Fucking mental, that one.

Because of this, Kakuzu found their partnership to be quite lucrative, thus, Hidan became much more tolerable. Even so, “much more tolerable” was still barely passing for Hidan, who constantly rode the line in such a way that threatened to grate on Kakuzu’s deepest nerves. 

Maybe Hidan managed to grind him numb, because Kakuzu kept him around anyway.

Hidan glanced over at his partner, uncrossing just one of his arms to raise a one-fingered salute. Still tipping back on the old, rusted chair legs, he slipped for a brief second, caught himself, and flashed Kakuzu a cocky grin, still flipping him off.

Kakuzu wouldn’t appease Hidan with the reaction he craved. He stared for a moment, nonplussed, glancing at that idiotic tattoo wrapping around the moron’s neck. A thin dotted line and a small bit of text that said “cut here”. Kakuzu hated that damn thing, it was far too tempting.

He simply faced forward and stared at Pain once more. Hidan scoffed.

Things were going well so far.

“Right,” Pain said, thinking he ought to move things along. He could see Deidara was getting antsy.

[wearelondonhq]

Happy Meme Day!!! If you want to take part all you have to do is reblog this post. Remember if you reblog to send them out to EVERYONE who also does. Meme lasts from today until the next Wednesday (may 1st).

FORTNIGHT

I was supposed to be sent away, but they forgot to come and get me.

I was a functioning alcoholic.

Nobody noticed my new aesthetic.

All of this to say, I hope you're okay.

No one here's to blame.. what about your quiet treason?

For a fortnight there we were forever running.

You're in my backyard turned into good neighbors.

I want to kill her/him/them.

All my mornings are Monday stuck in an endless February.

I took the miracle move on pill, the effects were temporary.

I love you, it's ruining my life.

I touched you for only a fortnight.

My husband is cheating... i want to kill him.

I call you up but you won't pick up.

Another fortnight lost in America.

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT

You left your typewriter at my apartment.

i think some things I'll never say.. like who uses typewriters anyway?

You're in self-sabotage mode.

Who else decodes you?

Who's gonna hold you like me?

Who's gonna know you if not me?

We'rе modern idiots.

I chose this cyclone with you.

Sometimes I wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me.

Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be.. because we're crazy.

At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on.. and that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding.

MY BOY ONLY BREAKS HIS FAVORITE TOYS

Here we go again.

You should've seen him when he first got me.

My boy only breaks his favorite toys.. i'm queen of sand castles he destroys.

I should've known it was a matter of time.

There was a litany of reasons why we could've playеd for keeps this time.

I know I'm just repeating mysеlf.

He runs because he loves me.

'Cause you should've seen him when he first saw me

I knew too much.

There was danger in the heat of my touch.

He saw forever so he smashed it up.

Once I fix me, he's gonna miss me

He was my best friend.

I felt more when we played pretend than with all the Ken's.

He took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart, left all these broken parts.

Told me I'm better off, but I'm not.

DOWN BAD

Did you really beam me up?

Tell me I was the chosen one.

For a moment I knew cosmic love.

Now I'm down bad, crying at the gym.

Everything comes out teenage petulance.

Fuck it if I can't have him.. it's like i lost my twin.

I might just die, it would make no difference.

Come back and pick me up.

Fuck it if I can't have us.

I might just not get up.

I might stay down bad.

Did you take all my old clothes?

They'll say I'm nuts if I talk about the existence of you.

For a moment, I was heavenstruck.

I loved your hostile take-overs.

I'll build you a fort on some planet where they can all understand it.

How dare you think it's romantic leaving me safe and stranded?

Cause fuck it, I was in love.

Fuck you if I can't have us.

SO LONG, LONDON

Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away.

My spine split from carrying us up the hill.

I stopped trying to make him laugh.

How much sad did you think I had?

Did you think I had in me?

You'll find someone.

I didn't opt in to be your odd man out..

I founded the club she's heard great things about.

I left all I knew.

I stopped CPR.

Thе spirit was gone.

We would never come to.

I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free.

Two graves, one gun.

I'll find someone.

You say I abandoned the ship, but I was going down with it.

My white knuckle dying grip holding tight to your quiet resentment.

My friends said it isn't right to be scared.

Every breath feels like rarest air.

Just how low did you think I'd go before I'd self implode?

You swore that you loved me but where were the clues?

I died on the altar waiting for the proof.

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM

I forget how the west was won.

I forget if this was ever fun.

I just learned these people only raise you to cage you.

What a mess.

I just learned these people try and save you 'cause they hate you.

Too high a horse for a simple girl to rise above it.

They slammed the door on my whole world.

But, daddy, I love him.

I'm having his baby... no, I'm not, but you should see your faces.

No, I'm not coming to my senses.

I know it's crazy, but he's the one I want.

Growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all.

You're this chaos, he was revelry.

Stay away from her.

Lord knows the words we never heard.

I'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitchin' and moanin'.

I'll tell you something 'bout my good name, it's mine along with all the disgrace.

God save the most judgmental creeps who say they want what's best for me.

Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see.

You ain't gotta pray for me.. it's just my choice.

There's a lot of people in town that I bestow upon my fakest smiles.

Scandal does funny things to pride but brings lovers closer.

We came back when the heat died down.

Went to my parents and they came around.

All the wine moms are still holding out.

Fuck 'em, it's over.

Even my daddy just loves him.

I'm his lady.

Oh my god, you should see your faces.

I know it's crazy but he's the one I love.

FRESH OUT OF THE SLAMMER

I'm running back home to you.

I know who my first call will be to.

He don't understand me.

Handcuffed to the spell I was under.

But it's gonna be alright.

I did my time.

Toss the ashes off the ledge.

I will never lose my baby again.

My friends tried, but I wouldn't hear it.

Watched me daily disappearing for just one glimpse of his smile.

All those nights you kept me goin'.

Swirled you into all of my poems.

Now we're at the starting line.

No matter what I've done, it wouldn't matter anyway.

Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up, now that I know what's at stake here.

FLORIDA!!!

You can beat the heat if you beat the charges too.

They said I was a cheat, I guess it must be true.

My friends all smell like weed or little babies.

The city reeks of driving myself crazy.

Your home's really only a town you're just a guest in.

I got drunk and I dared it to wash me away.

Well, mе and my ghosts, we had a hell of a time.

Yеs, I'm haunted, but I'm feeling just fine.

Well, no one asks any questions here.

So I did my best to lay to rest all of the bodies that have ever been on my body.

I've got some regrets.

Tell me I'm despicable, say it's unforgivable.

At least the dolls are beautiful, fuck me up, Florida

I need to forget, so take me to Florida

What a crash, what a rush.

Love left me like this.

I don't want to exist.

GUILTY AS SIN?

I hadn't heard it in a while.

My boredom's bone deep.

This cage was once just fine.

Am I allowed to cry?

I dream of cracking locks.

Crashing into him tonight, he's a paradox.

I'm seeing visions.

Am I bad, or mad, or wise?

What if he's written "Mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

Oh, what a way to die.

I keep recalling things we never did.

Without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?

There's no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk.

We've already done it in my head.

Why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?

What if I roll the stone away?

They're gonna crucify me anyway

What if the way you hold me is actually what's holy?

They don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly.

I choose you and me, religiously.

WHO'S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME?

You don’t get to tell me about sad.

If you wanted me dead you should’ve just said.

Nothing makes me feel more alive.

Who’s afraid of little old me?

You don’t get to tell me you feel bad.

Is it a wonder I broke?

Let’s hear one morе joke.

Then we could all just laugh until I cry.

I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean.

Don’t you worry folks, we took out all her teeth.

So tell me everything is not about me, but what if it is?

Say they didn’t do it to hurt me, but what if they did?

I wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me.

You wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

All you kids can sneak into my house with all the cobwebs.

I’m always drunk on my own tears, isn’t that what they all said?

I’ll sue you if you step on my lawn.

I’m fearsome, and I’m wretched and I’m wrong.

Put narcotics into all of my songs and that’s why you’re still singing along.

You lured me and you hurt me and you taught me.

You caged me and then you called me crazy.

I am what I am 'cause you trained me.

I CAN FIX HIM (NO REALLY I CAN)

The smoke cloud billows out his mouth like a freight train through a small town.

The jokes that he told across the bar were revolting and far too loud.

God, help her.

I told them he's my man

I can fix him, no, really, I can.

The dopamine races through his brain on a six-lane Texas highway.

His hands so calloused from his pistol softly traces hearts on my face.

I could see it from a mile away.

A perfect case for my certain skill set.

He had a halo of the highest gradе.

He just hadn't met me yеt.

Good boy, that's right.

Come close.

I'll show you Heaven if you'll be an angel, all mine.

Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man.

LOML

Who's gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames?

We were just kids, babe.

You said I'm the love of your life.

A con man sells a fool a "get love quick" scheme.

I felt a hole like this, never before and ever since.

What we thought was for all time was momentary.

Mr. Steal-Your-Girl, then make her cry.

You shit-talked me under the table.

I wish I could unrecall how we almost had it all.

You're the loss of my life.

I CAN DO IT WITH A BROKEN HEART

I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit.

They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it till you make it" And I did.

Lights, camera.. bitch, smile.. even when you wanna die.

He said he'd love me all his life, but that life was too short.

All the piеces of me shatterеd as the crowd was chanting "More".

I was grinnin' like I'm winnin'.

I can do it with a broken heart.

I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day.

I'm so obsessed with him, but he avoids me like the plague.

I cry a lot, but I am so productive, it's an art.

You know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart.

I can hold my breath.

I've been doing it since he left.

I keep finding his things in drawers, crucial evidence I didn't imagine the whole thing.

THE SMALLEST MAN WHO EVER LIVED

I don't even want you back.

I don't miss what we had.

Could someone give a message to the smallest man who ever lived?

Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead?

Did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?

Were you writing a book?

Were you a sleeper cell spy?

In fifty years will all this be declassified?

You'll confess why you did it and I'll say, "Good riddance".

It wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden.

I would've died for your sins, instead I just died inside.

You deserve prison, but you won't get time.

You said normal girls were "boring", but you were gone by the morning.

You kicked out the stage lights, but you're still performing.

You are what you did.

I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive.

THE ALCHEMY

This happens once every few lifetimes.

These chemicals hit me like white wine.

What if I told you I'm back?

The hospital was a drag.

Worst sleep that I ever had.

I circled you on a map.

I haven't come around in so long.

I'm coming back so strong.

Ditch the clowns, get the crown.

Baby, I'm the one to be.

The sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me.

Honestly, who are we to fight thе alchemy?.

Hey, you, what if I told you we'rе cool?

That child's play back in school is forgiven under my rule.

I'm making a comeback to where I belong

We've been on a winning streak.

There was no chance trying to be the greatest in the league.

Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me.

BONUS! BELOW THE CUT, FIND MORE OPTIONS FROM A MIX OF THE ANTHOLOGY TRACKS!

credit goes to @perspectivestarters !!

I move through the world with a heart broken.

I may never open up thе way I did for you.

Six weeks of breathing clean air, I still miss the smoke.

I can tell when somebody still wants me.

Once you fix your face, I'm going in.

Whether I'm gonna be your wife, or gonna smash up your bike, I haven't decided yet.

I'm gonna get you back.

Whether I'm gonna curse you out, or take you back to my house, I haven't decidеd yet.

You'll find that you were never not mine.

Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you.

Pick your poison, babe, I'm poison either way.

A touch that was my birth right became foreign.

Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

You know how to ball, I know artistotle.

Everyone knows that my mother is a saintly woman, but she used to say she wished that you were dead.

When I count the scars, there's a moment of truth, that there wouldn't be this, if there hadn't been you.

One day, your kid comes home singin' a song that only us two is gonna know is about you.

[1800naveen]

Songs that remind me of Tamlin (got inspired by a Spotify playlist I saw for him)

Heart of Stone from SIX the musical (RIP to Tamlin's mother, you would love this song):

🎵You can build me up, you can tear me down You can try but I'm unbreakable You can do your best, but I'll stand the test You'll find that I'm unshakeable When the fire's burnt When the wind has blown When the water's dried, you'll still find stone My heart of stone🎵

Guns for Hire by Woodkid:

🎵Hold the dice, your turn to roll Before they fall through your fingers Not a good night to lose control Right as the earth is unraveling You play with your blocks until they break And these walls come tumbling down Oh, they're tumbling down

You're out of time, make your move Live or die while the fuse is lit and there's no turning back

Kiss your perfect day goodbye Because the world is on fire Tuck your innocence goodnight You sold your friends like guns for hire Go play with your blocks And now you'll pay when these walls come tumbling down Oh, they're tumbling down🎵

Wait for It from Hamilton:

🎵Love doesn't discriminate Between the sinners And the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep loving anyway We laugh and we cry And we break And we make our mistakes And if there's a reason I'm by her side When so many have tried Then I'm willing to wait for it I'm willing to wait for it🎵 (Him talking about Feyre)

🎵My mother was a genius

My father commanded respect

When they died they left no instructions Just a legacy to protect🎵

🎵Death doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep living anyway We rise and we fall And we break And we make our mistakes And if there's a reason I'm still alive When everyone who loves me has died I'm willing to wait for it (wait for it) I'm willing to wait for it🎵