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[m0onlustre]

You always belonged with me. - Sylus x reader

ᯓPairing: Sylus x female reader (afab)

ᯓGenre: pure filth, slight yan!sylus if you squint really hard, oc plot mentions, angst

ᯓ tags - WARNINGS: mdni, reader isn’t the lnds!mc, explicit sexual content, ooc Sylus (how his myth could be in my head), toxic relationship,  b/egging, f!receiving oral, p in v, unprotected sex, non-sexual choking, spanking, creampies, use of pet names (kitten, sweetie, angel), dirty talking, sylus refers to reader's pussy as "she"

ᯓExtra Warning: This story contains altered religious themes and biblical references that may lead me to hell. If you are religious or uncomfortable with the prospect of such writing, please, for your own sake, do not proceed with this story. Consider yourself warned.

ᯓWord Count: 4,6k

Centuries ago, you were banned from stepping foot in the place you once called home. You would do anything to return, and tonight was your chance to try your last resort: the man who had damned you to this position in the first place.

It wasn’t the first time you felt the unsettling sensation of being followed while navigating the N109 Zone. This place was notorious for its shadows—every corner seemed to harbor someone lurking, ready to pry into the lives of others.

You had grown accustomed to this unease; after all, this had been your home for years, both before and after the catastrophe that left the area hollow and desolate. In the aftermath, people became harsher, their kindness stripped away by the events that reshaped the lives of everyone in the zone.

Your feet carried you into one of the bars at the far end of town. You couldn’t help but stifle a chuckle at the absurdity of a security guard standing at the door. Everyone knew this wasn’t a typical nightclub—not that anything here could be considered “normal.” This establishment had a reputation as a bloodbath. The guards weren’t there to ensure anyone's safety of course, except for one man: The leader of Onychinus.

Onychinus was a mysterious faction entrenched in the N109 Zone. Unlike other shady groups, they were omnipresent, weaving a vast web of corruption that controlled every illegal activity within the area.

Sylus was not just the head of this dangerous organization; he was regarded as the ruler of the entire underworld. Whispers of his cruelty and insatiable thirst for power circulated like a broken record, echoing through the streets.

People were terrified of him, yet he intrigued many. Tales circulated about his almost supernatural presence—more than just a human leader, he was said to command the night with his sinfully crafted horns and shadowy wings that cast an ominous veil over the town, keeping it cloaked in darkness twenty-four hours a day.

Imagination was a double-edged sword; it could inspire or deceive. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes every time you overheard whispers about Sylus—tales that veered more towards horror folklore than reality.

The guard fixed his gaze on you, waiting for your entry pass to the club—or, more accurately, the colosseum that lay hidden beneath it. You brushed aside the blonde locks of your wig, letting the brooch of the zone glimmer against your dress, perched just above your chest.

His scrutinizing look was intense, and you could almost sense the gears turning in his mind. “How come I haven’t seen you here before?”

You maintained an expressionless facade, keeping your tone steady under his interrogation. You hoped that the extensive alterations to your appearance—from the wig and colored contacts to your evol that allowed you to adopt features from those you encountered—would obscure any resemblance to the posters plastered throughout the N109 Zone. The bounty on your head had sent ripples of tension through the underworld, but you felt surprisingly calm.

“I usually don’t have to watch business unfold, but tonight is special. You know what I mean.”

His eyes widened in surprise at the implication of your words, and without another word, he stepped aside to grant you entry. As you passed him, a sigh of relief escaped your lips. You silently thanked whatever entity governed fate that your deception had gone unnoticed. It was all too easy to make someone believe in your power when you wore the brooch of Onychinus and spoke the right lingo about their underground dealings.

Technically, you didn’t own the brooch; it was stolen. Yet, perched on your chest, it pretty much seemed yours now. You needed access to the inner workings of the N109 Zone, and now you had it—thanks to a clever ruse involving a brief fainting spell in Luke’s arms, where you knew he kept his brooch tucked beneath the leather of his uniform.

As you navigated through the thrumming crowd, the same unsettling sensation crept over you—the feeling of being watched. The intensity of the gaze made you squirm, though you weren’t afraid. Still, you weren’t naive enough to believe that things couldn’t escalate quickly in this dangerous territory, especially while carrying a stolen item belonging to one of the leader’s henchmen.

Scanning your surroundings, you located the secret passage that led downstairs, directly to the imposing double doors of the hidden colosseum. This was a place where fights occurred every night—not just any fights, but brutal spectacles centered around bets on altered and modified wanderers.

Once, this arena served as a testing ground for a wanderer’s limits, but it had devolved into chaos when the underworld began modifying protocores. They injected these enhancements into creatures, unleashing them to tear each other apart in front of a bloodthirsty audience.

The spectators were all too aware that most wanderers were not contained within the arena. For many, death was an inevitable risk they accepted when they chose to witness these horrific displays. People entered with a significant chance of never leaving.

Those who did survive not only walked away richer, based on the wanderers they had bet on, but so did the modifiers. Yet, the one truly profiting from these nights was Sylus. He monopolized the protocores, wielding an unparalleled influence over the creatures, ensuring they possessed the strength necessary to dominate any other fighters.

He was never present during the fights, always lurking in the shadows. You needed to draw him out, for he possessed something you desperately wanted—something you needed.

So, here you sat at the front, betting everything you had on a wanderer from a mysterious modifier who remained anonymous. The bet managers had eyed you curiously when you placed such a substantial amount of gold on a creature that wasn’t one of Sylus’s creations, especially from someone unknown.

You forced yourself to relax your shoulders and crossed your legs as the announcement echoed through the arena, signaling that the fight was about to commence. The massive bars on the left side creaked open first, revealing a wanderer from Onychinus. It emerged like a beast from the depths of hell, its massive form glowing a menacing red beneath its bark-like exterior.

Then, the bars on your side opened, and the arena fell into a tense silence, punctuated only by a few gasps. From the darkness stepped a lone human. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the imminent clash as you waited for the wanderer to attack your chosen fighter.

Snickers rippled through the crowd when the human not only failed to evade the incoming assault but instead stumbled back, his head slamming against the ground with a dull thud.

The impact caused the injected formula to rupture, and in that moment, the modified essence surged through him, transforming his body into a near-giant, nearly matching the size of the opposing wanderer. Veins on his bare skin glowed a fierce red, and his pupils elongated into slits reminiscent of a cat's, radiating an intensity that resembled molten lava.

Showtime.

It didn’t take long for Onychinus’s creation to be shredded to pieces, your chosen fighter standing triumphantly atop the remnants of what had once been a formidable wanderer.

A tense silence enveloped the crowd, and no one dared to breathe as you rose from your seat and made your way toward the exit. Just before stepping out, you turned to lock eyes with the victor in the arena, whispering softly yet confidently, knowing he could hear you clearly.

"Such a good job.”

The night air was brisk against your bare back, your dress clinging to your figure and leaving little to the imagination as you walked down the narrow alleys of the town. You could almost feel the moment the atmosphere shifted, a new energy surrounding you.

A smirk crept onto your lips as you heard the steady, heavy footsteps approaching from behind.

You turned your head slightly, speaking over your shoulder to give him only a glimpse of your profile and your back.

“At last, we meet again.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, his broad shoulders shaking with amusement as his gaze roamed over your form. You could alter your appearance as much as you wished, but he would never forget the sound of your voice. Yet, he seemed to struggle with the reality of facing you after all this time.

“Let me see you, sweetie,” he said, his voice deeper than you remembered, yet still carrying that velvety, sultry tone.

You turned to face him fully, crossing your arms over your chest. With a slight tilt of your head, you took in his figure. He had changed significantly over the centuries. He stood taller, with broader shoulders, and his muscles strained against the dress shirt he wore. His white hair, once reaching his waist, was now cut close to his scalp, with only the front strands long enough to fall messily over his forehead.

Sylus clicked his tongue in mild annoyance. “The real you.”

“I’ve changed,” you replied, your tone clipped and resolute.

He took measured steps toward you, closing the distance until you found yourself craning your neck to meet his gaze. His eyes lingered on your face, absorbing every detail. “I haven’t seen you in forever…” he whispered, his voice calm yet filled with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

Before you could react, his hand shot out, grasping your wig and yanking it away, allowing your natural hair to cascade down your back. “Don’t mistake our time apart as a reason for me to forget every single detail about you, kitten.”

You tried to steady your breathing, striving to appear unaffected by his words. Not once did you break eye contact with him as you allowed the energy of your evol to envelop you, restoring your true features and washing away the alterations that felt like long-forgotten memories.

Sylus’s eyes darkened slightly as he took you in, his hand rising to brush his knuckles against your jaw with a featherlight touch. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.” His gaze shifted to the brooch resting on your dress.

“So do you,” you replied, your words drawing his attention away from the stolen item on your chest. His brows furrowed into a small frown as he struggled to comprehend your statement.

Something clicked in his mind then, and he seized your hand, forcefully lifting it to inspect your wrist. There it was—the one symbol he himself wore, deeply carved into your skin. It glowed an angry carmine, signaling your fall from grace.

A huff escaped his lips as he locked eyes with you again. “Is this the reason you pulled that little stunt back there? You thought I wouldn’t find out about you being the mysterious modifier you placed a bet on?”

“This—” you seethed, leaning closer to him, your frustration palpable, “is your fault. I need to get back, Sylus. This isn’t where I’m supposed to be.”

“Oh?” His smirk turned diabolical as he pressed his chest against yours, his face inches from yours. “And where exactly are you supposed to be, sweetie? By his side?”

Your patience wore thin. “Yes.”

A deep chuckle erupted from his throat, devoid of any humor. “His little angel. Tell me, did you think of him, too, when you were clenching around my cock, as if you couldn’t live without me?”

Your gasp shattered the silence of the night, followed by the sharp crack of your slap against his cheek. “That was a mistake. You were a mistake, Sylus.”

His eyes shifted, the warm carmine hue darkening to an abyssal black, all warmth evaporating from his gaze. “I was?”

You didn’t respond to him immediately, taking a step back to regain some semblance of control over the situation. You struggled to keep your voice steady. “I need to get back, and you’re going to help me, Sylus. What we—what I did was a mistake, and I can’t let it keep me away from home.”

Sylus turned his head away, closing his eyes, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as amusement wrinkled the skin at the edges of his gaze. “Was it really your home, sweetie?”

“It was. Just as it was yours, once upon a—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” In an instant, he was back in front of you, his hand tightening around your throat. The burning symbol on his wrist glowed vividly, exposed by the way his cuff had ridden up during the movement. “That place was never my home. He never wanted me there; He only wanted to control me.”

“You’re wrong.” Your voice came out strained under the pressure of his grip, yet you didn’t flinch or attempt to remove his hand. “He loves you.”

“Is that why he banished me, hmm? Because he loves me?” His tone turned harsh, slicing through the air like a blade. “Does he love you as well? Is his love for you what sent you falling right after me?”

Your breathing grew erratic, each word he spoke igniting a fire on your own wrist. The more you allowed his words to penetrate your defenses, the more intense the burning sensation became. “We defied him, Sylus. You betrayed him most of all; you are the only reason you’ve fallen.”

His grip on your throat tightened to the point where you had to part your lips to draw in a breath. “Is this what you really believe, sweetie? The fallen angel, scorched by his own sins, sealing his fate away from his brother’s home.”

His eyes narrowed into slits, and you instinctively reached up to wrap your fingers around his wrist, struggling against the pressure crushing your windpipe. “I didn’t think you’d be as naive as them.”

“Sylus…” It was difficult to speak now; tears threatened to spill from your eyes. As if he had just realized the extent of the pressure he was applying, he relaxed his grip slightly, allowing you a precious gulp of air. “He can still forgive you. You just never sought him out.”

“You shouldn’t either, angel.” His thumb crept slowly toward your bottom lip, caressing it with a tenderness that felt foreign to his nature. “Do you forget all the times you sought me out? You've always known where your true home lies—by my side. You were always meant to fall with me. Fall for me.”

“No!” You struggled to squirm away from his grasp, desperate to create some space between you. Nothing was ever easy with him. All he needed to do was utter the right words, the incantation that could undamn you, granting you entry back into Heaven without the mark of eternal sin burning your skin.

He seemed almost pleased to see you after all those centuries apart, still trapped down here, far from the place you both once called home. You had foolishly fallen into his sinful embrace, and in doing so, had condemned yourself. He had welcomed you into his own home, promising you a place beside him on his throne, where you would truly belong—with him.

“Speak the words, damn it!” Your voice was nearly a plea as you struggled against him, but he was growing stronger by the second, and he had no intention of letting you go again.

“You don’t belong with him, sweetie. Don’t you see?” His breathing was calm, almost effortless, as he kept you trapped in his grip. “I would never abandon you like he did.”

“I sinned,” you breathed out, feeling yourself pressed completely against his body as he maneuvered you, forcing your back against the cold surface of the alley wall.

His taut form pressed against yours in all the right ways, his head dipping down to find your pulse point, nibbling at the sensitive skin there. Your breath hitched, and you closed your eyes, overwhelmed by a mix of shame and desire.

“Is this a sin, angel?” His teeth grazed your neck, and you instinctively placed your hands on his chest, attempting to push him away. “Your body was made to provide you with pleasure, so tell me… Why is this a sin?”

A whimper escaped your lips as he emphasized his question by sucking on your skin, his hips pressing forward to brush against your abdomen with his slowly hardening erection. The symbol on your wrist felt like it was igniting, the heat intensifying with every movement he made. “Sylus—”

“Shh… You’ve talked enough.” In an instant, his lips were on yours, a surprised gasp escaping you. He seized the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, his hands finding their way to the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss.

As you surrendered to the moment, you sensed a shift in your peripheral vision. When you tried to pull away to catch your breath, your eyes widened in awe at the sight transforming before you, your mouth falling open. 

Sylus’s carmine eyes began to glow, a tearing sound echoing through the alley as massive black wings unfurled from his back, their feathers cascading down to the ground beside his shoes. Your heart swelled with a mix of awe and longing, unable to recall the last time you had seen him like this.

Your pupils dilated, drinking in the striking transformation. His wings, once the purest of whites, had morphed into a dark, charcoal hue, contrasting sharply with his blood-red eyes. Despite the sharp edges of his new form, he remained what everyone described him as; the most beautiful angel of all.

Before you could fully process the shift in the air, his lips were on you again, his hands roaming down your body with an urgency that took your breath away. You had half a mind to pull away, but the heat radiating from your skin was intoxicating. One of his palms settled against the back of your thigh, lifting it until it wrapped around his waist, granting him access to grind against your clothed cunt.

A deep groan rumbled from his throat, and you swallowed it into the kiss, your own moan echoing softly into the night. His head dipped lower, his mouth closing around your breast, the fabric of your dress quickly becoming damp with his saliva. He seemed ravenous, impatience evident in his every movement as he nipped at the fabric, sending jolts of pleasure through you that made your back arch, pushing your breasts further into his eager mouth.

“Sylus…” you moaned, your voice almost breathless, the night taking a turn you hadn’t anticipated when you first stepped into that colosseum.

“I can feel you soaking through my pants, angel,” he grunted into your chest, his hips driving into you once more. “You came here to ask me to deliver you back to him, yet you’re dripping all over me.”

His tone was possessive and almost feral as he threaded his fingers to the neckline of your dress, pushing it down until it rested beneath your breasts, exposing your skin to his eager lips. He began to lap his tongue over your nipple, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

Impatience bubbled within you, your body writhing and squirming against him and the wall as you struggled to make a decision. This was a mistake you had made before, one that had cost you your place in Heaven, yet you couldn't bring yourself to ask him to stop when your entire being buzzed with the pleasure only he could provide.

His white locks brushed against your collarbone, a teasing sensation that made you shiver. You seized the opportunity to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer even as you tried to push him away, the conflicting desires overwhelming you.

“Don’t deny me.” Sylus’s voice dripped with lust as he locked his glowing eyes onto yours, then fell to his knees, lifting your leg over his shoulder. He positioned himself perfectly in front of your clothed cunt, his presence filling the narrow alley. “Embrace me."

“I—” You were breathless, your legs trembling as you took in the sight of him, the way his eyes glowed like embers in the darkness and how his wings loomed large behind him, dominating the space. It was impossible to resist him, yet a flicker of resolve still burned within you. “I can’t, Sylus. He—”

Before you could finish your sentence, he growled, his tongue darting out to tease your panties, and you buckled, a scream tearing from your throat as pleasure shot through you, leaving you gasping.

He glided his fingers along your damp underwear, the soft fabric clinging to you as he brought them up to show you how much they glistened with your arousal. “How dare you speak his name when she’s crying for me?”

You felt as if you were burning, heat radiating from every inch of your body as he tore the fabric with one powerful tug, leaving you bare before him. “Let me remind you what it felt like, sweetie.”

His mouth was on your cunt before you could catch your breath, his tongue lapping eagerly at your folds, devouring you like a man starved. “Such a sweet pussy, angel.”

You mewled and moaned in a symphony of pleasure, your senses overlapping until all that existed was the way his teeth grazed your clit and how his mouth enveloped you completely. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine as you ground your hips against his face, seeking the delicious friction of his nose against your sensitive bud while he pushed his tongue deep into your welcoming heat.

“Sylus, please…” You didn’t even know what you were begging for, but he did. With a swift motion, he brought one hand up, slipping a finger inside you alongside his tongue. “Ah—Oh my God!”

Just as quickly as his mouth and finger were there, they vanished, and when you tried to protest, a yelp escaped your throat as a sudden stinging heat greeted your pussy. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth when he slapped you again, the sound echoing in the dimly lit alley, your body doubling over as you nearly lost your balance. It was only his wings that moved toward you, enveloping you in a soft, feathery sanctuary, steadying you against the cool, rough wall behind.

The tone of his voice was a stark contrast to the gentle caress of his wings as he spoke, a low growl rumbling from deep within. “Calling out his name when you’re begging for me?”

Your eyes widened in shock as the realization of what you’d done washed over you, and your hands instinctively tangled in Sylus’s silken white locks, guiding his face toward where you craved him most once again. “I’m sorry, Sylus, ‘m so sorry…”

Another sharp slap echoed in the air, and you felt an almost overwhelming wave of pleasure surge through you, making you believe you could reach your peak from that sensation alone.

Your frustration simmered as you watched him rise from the ground, his full height towering over you, but relief flooded you when you saw him begin to tug at his belt, loosening his pants around his hips, though they remained on.

Without thinking, your hands rushed to the fabric, desperate to rid him of it, but Sylus only smacked your hand away. His mouth found your neck once more, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, “Do you want me to take you, sweetie?”

“Please—”

“Do you want me to corrupt you like I did back then?” His teeth grazed your delicate skin, igniting a mix of pain and pleasure that made you cry out. “You came to my altar once, and now you can’t seem to get enough, can you?”

You hadn’t realized the tears streaming down your cheeks, a blend of overwhelming emotions and bliss, until Sylus’s tongue lapped beneath your eyes, capturing each drop. With a swift motion, he freed his cock from the confines of his pants, rubbing it against your entrance. “You can trick your foolish heart into believing you hate me. That you want to go back, but deep down, you know I am your home.”

He finished his sentence with one sharp thrust, his cock fully seated inside you. A loud moan escaped your lips, and you could swear someone would come searching the alley, finding you pressed against the wall, Sylus’s cock shattering any remaining sense of sanity you had left.

He set a relentless pace, barely allowing you time to adjust as you felt your walls clench around him, as if he were your lifeline and you were desperate to pull him inside you forever. 

“Shit…” His groans came freely, raw and unrestricted, as he continued to fuck you against the wall. “I’ve missed you so much, angel.” He peppered your face with open-mouthed kisses, and your head tilted back, eyes crossing from the overwhelming pleasure.

“I—missed you too, Sy—” You struggled to form coherent words, your thoughts a jumbled mess of moans and whines, until the sound of approaching footsteps jolted you out of your blissful trance. You froze in Sylus’s arms, but your body reacted instinctively, clenching around him in a way that made his rhythm stutter for a moment.

He looked at you with a frown, but as he heard the footsteps, his smirk returned, and he picked up his pace. You gasped when you realized how close someone was, mere steps away from where Sylus was fucking you against the wall. His thrusts grew harder, his wings flaring out and slapping against the ground with the force of his movements.

“Sylus! Someone—” You tried to stifle your moans, but he was so deep that you could feel him pressing against your cervix, his hands gripping your hips with a force that would surely leave marks. “S-someone’s coming-”

No matter how alarming your voice sounded, there was no mistaking the way your walls squeezed his cock with each syllable. His eyes rolled back as he pressed a passionate kiss to your lips, whispering against them,

“You’re squeezing me dry, sweetie.” He breathed harder, his hand slipping down to play with your clit, drawing a cry from your lips that you couldn’t contain. “Does it excite you? The thought of someone coming along and seeing you like this?”

Your brain turned to mush under his double assault—his cock filling you completely and his finger teasing your pulsating clit. You struggled to hold onto yourself, but every brush against that sweet spot inside you sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you quivering.

“Do you want someone to catch you bouncing on my cock, angel? A sweet little creature making a mess on the Fallen Angel?” His thrusts became more animalistic, and in the haze of pleasure, you didn’t even notice that no one was nearing your hiding place anymore. Sylus kept pushing your sanity. “If only they knew that my cock was the reason you lost your own wings in the first place."

Your orgasm hit you like a bolt of lightning, your vision going white as you felt your pussy flutter and clench impossibly hard around Sylus’s cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned, losing control as his hips retracted slightly before plunging back in, chasing his own sweet release. “Just like that, sweetie, give it all to me.”

Your thighs trembled around him, your body on the brink of surrender as you felt his last vestiges of control shatter.

Ropes of thick come filled you, coating your walls while his wings enveloped your body, sheltering you from anyone who might intrude and keeping you impossibly close. He continued until you were overflowing with his seed, leaking down your joined bodies, creating a mess on both of you, your moans echoing in the silence.

“You feel like Heaven, sweetie. Too bad you won’t be making it back.”

[feefivefoe]

Please can we hear your thoughts on what Bruce does/thinks when being confronted with his neglect by Jason (and maybe the other boys too)??

Thank you, and have a nice day!

Bruce is the one I have the hardest time characterizing tbh.

I think his first reaction would be denial? He hasn't been the best father, but even he wouldn't go as far as to forget his own chi...

Oh my god he doesn't know how old you are. You were...you were older than Tim but younger than Dick, he thinks.

Wait.

When was your birthday?

Did he ever give you a birthday party?

What wing of the manor did you sleep in?

Where were you right now?

Unlike Tim who starts the unofficial search, Bruce heads right to the batcave to find your official records. Social security number. If you worked anywhere or has anyplace legal to stay, you'd have to input that. He's ashamed he has to go through a government database to find it, rather than simply knowing it.

And just like Tim, he finds nothing. Which scares him beyond belief. Had he lost you already? Did he actually forget about one of his children and then unknowingly replace them? Was he actually guilty of what Jason had accused him of years ago, albeit to a different child?

In reality, you're living solely through cash. Plenty of individuals are eager to avoid paying all their taxes, and are thrilled to accept cash only payments on your rent, or paycheck. Legally, you haven't done anything since graduating high school.

Not necessarily hiding from them, per say, as you don't think they'd go looking, but just because you don't want to be known as a Wayne.

And god, there is so much guilt, fear, and anguish rolling around inside that man. He needs to find out where you are, and if you're okay, and if anybody had done anything to you.

He swears if they have, he'll rip the motherfucker to pieces-

No. That isn't going to help. So instead he checks every reported death within not only Gotham, but any city within a 50 mile radius. For the last 10 years.

As well hidden as you are, nobody can hide from Batman while he's concentrating every effort to find you.

He's hesitant to bring you home at first. How can he call himself your father after forgetting you for your whole time living with him? But his regard for your safety eventually wins out. Until then, you just get a concerning amount of money just...stashed in your apartment??? What the fuck??????

Dick also feels a lot of guilt, but he somewhat subconsciously channels that into abundant overeagerness. Instead of focusing on how many important moments he missed...that he can never get back with his first baby sibling...

...ah, he should focus on all the memories you can make going forward! He has to take you to all his favorite spots, and you take him to yours!

What interests do you have? Are you a go to the aquarium person? Family movie night? Spa night? Just having fun with everyone at dinner? He has to do these things with you! And then you'll be his family again, and he'll love you, and you'll love him-

In spirit, he shows up outside your door like Damian. But he is self aware enough to know that'd freak you out, so instead he 'coincidentally' shows up at your work...in the bad side of town...and his attitude definitely gives away it was planned.

He messes up your "I'm a nobody like all of you" persona you'd spent years cultivating, and by the time he leaves, all your coworkers and customers know that you're Dick Grayson's sibling...which means Bruce Wayne's child, but he likes saying you're related to him more.

Tim doesn't give a fuck at first, like I established. It really is a game to see if he can find you before anybody else does. When he loses that to Bruce (damn it-), he decides he'll just know you BETTER than the others to win.

So he starts literally stalking you and making a psyche profile, like you're a case rather than his sibling. Any interest you've ever listed in your social media is cross checked with any belongings of yours. Merch or posters? Songs you listen to? Any of that content, he consumes as well. He's going to need conversation topics with you.

I'm not entirely sure if he actually loves you as family, or if you're just a hyperfixation that's consistently buzzing at his brain. It's like he wants to dissect, then digest you. Pick you apart piece by piece so he sees every last skin cell, then make that information a part of him

Though, he'd claim it's the former. To him, there's no discernable difference.

He's the one who meets you at your hobbies. Claims an online friend brought it up, but hey, it's crazy to see you again!

Even though it's your first conversation...maybe ever?

He's chatting to you like you haven't been estranged your whole life.

And the look in the eye is...a little unnerving.

[the-s1lly-corner]

This one request may be a little out there but can I request various creepypastas walking the reader home after they notice someone trailing behind them? They don't know the reader that well, maybe they've just entered the friend stage?

Various crps walking the reader home

Ooooo love this idea sm, sm sm might YOINK this for other characters in a different post

Characters: nina, hoodie, masky, toby

Notes: reader is GN, you and the crp arent dating but you guys are friends/friendly

CWs: stalking(? Does it count if it's an isolated instance of being followed?), implied violence

NINA THE KILLER

doesnt even wait to greet you when shes close by, she calls for you and says hi as she rushes up to you from... wherever she just was-

hooks her arm around yours, and keeps her hold on you firmly... perhaps out of concern... the risk that you might get snatched by someone else and taken?

though its not likely, given that shes twirling her knife around in the air in plain sight as she practically skips by your side- talking to you so casually as if there was nothing wrong

as soon as the person is gone shes asking if youre alright- do you need her to add someone on the chopping block? because she can probably track them down and-

fully understanding if you dont want her to do anything like that, but you can tell shes still... contemplating... insists she spends at least some time with you when you get home to make sure all is well- during the time shes there shes making sure youre alright as well as helping ease yourself after something like that

HOODIE

very tall, likely towers over whoever is making you feel threatened. unlike masky, he does look back at the other person... almost as if he is sizing them up

in the light you swear you catch a shine of something hidden away in his pocket- but the need to pull it out never arises as the person keeps their distance

its dead quiet between the two of you- as expected, and he does give you some breathing room... hes slightly behind you, almost like a barrier between you and the creep

immediately stomps out any attempts the person makes at getting closing the gap by blocking their way and glaring down at them until they either go the other way or pass ahead of the two of you... and even then hes going to continue moving to keep between you and them

will come inside if you offer him, he keeps an eye out long after the danger has passed

MASKY

you were already so caught up in making a plan for what to do, that you didn't even realize Masky taking his spot next to you. He nearly scared you just as much as the person behind you, at least.. until you realized it was just him

keeps close to you, and doesn't give the one following you a look.. to further push the point that the two of you are together he wraps an arm around you and tugs you closer

for someone who is usually so adverse to touch, and being interested in keeping his personal space- he was more than willing to toss all of that out of the window to bring you even an ounce of security

you eventually lose them, but thats not going to stop him from walking you the rest of the way home. he doesnt invite himself in, but you catch him stalking around the outside of your house- as if making sure there was no other unwanted visitors

TICCI TOBY

not as quiet as his fellow proxies, and in fact will spin around to make a conflict if the person isnt dropping it as you draw closer to your neighborhood

its... hard to say its the right choice, but making noise does add in the uncomfortable fact that it may draw attention- that in of itself isnt the best for toby given his record... you know, with arson and the like..

and if the person takes it as an opening to rush forward? toby goes no where without his weapons, and if the person didnt take that into account or didnt notice them then thats on them! anything that happens afterwards is just karma!

even if it doesnt escalate to that he talks with you, making it clear that the two of you are familiar with each other- he spares no volume as he catches up with you- will flash his hatchet and perhaps drop some recent work he was meant to do for his boss

gladly takes your invitation to stay, keeps you company and you both end up having a sleepover together

[thevoidstaredback]

At exactly three in the afternoon, New Jersey time, the next day, Batman and Robin took the Zeta Tube up to the Watchtower to gather the waiting heroes for their promised tour of the Batcave.

Jason and Barbra were set up in the clocktower, watching the cameras Tim had set up the night before to record everything. Dick was at the Batcomputer, watching for alerts in case anyone decided to cut their fun short. Stephanie and Cass were on standby in the Manor with Alfred, setting up a movie night to watch the recordings before they were to head down to the Cave to interchangeably play Spoiler. Duke and Tim were both in the Cave, hidden in the rafters in their stealth suits. Kate and Selina had both agreed to help mess with the Justice League, neither actually knowing their identities, and were patrolling Gotham in place of Duke while they waited for part two of the plan.

The plan was set as follows, with room for improv and any missteps: -Batman and Robin gather the heroes from the Watchtower and bring them down to the Batcave -Nightwing meets them and joins in on the tour -Oracle calls Nightwing away for an emergency in Bludhaven -Batwoman would then call Batman away to help out against Red Hood in Crime Alley (that was so that they'd all keep thinking that Red Hood and Batman were still on bad terms. all the better to surprise Wonder Woman when she came to the Manor for the gala) -Steph, as Spoiler, would enter the Cave via the Lane and join Robin and the JL for a tour. She and Cass would then switch out at random intervals, basically gaslighting everyone - especially Superman - into thinking they're the same person -Nightwing and Batman would met up at the Clocktower to switch costumes. Dick becomes Batman while Jason and Bruce go to the Manor in civvies to show that they're under a residence -Duke and Tim, meanwhile, move things around the Cave as they please. At some point, Tim and Damian switch out, but don't acknowledge the switch -NightBat (Nightwing as Batman) comes back to the Cave, sending Steph and Cass back out and to the Manor in civvies, and Duke goes to take over for Batwoman and Catwoman -NightBat and Bruce meet in the locker rooms, while Red Robin distracts the JL, to change back into Batman and Nightwing -Batman rejoins the JL and RR while Nightwing goes back to get his bike and reenter the Cave via the Lane -Robin switches out with Red Robin who resets the Cave, putting everything back in its place as quickly as he can without being noticed -Nightwing comes back -Oracle calls out an emergency at the GCPD -The JL leave

Obviously, they all had comms in and were listening in on everything.

"Exactly on time." Green Arrow nods as Batman and Robin step out of the Zeta Tubes.

Wonder Woman smiles, "How are you doing today, Robin?"

Robin nods to her. "I am well, thank you. And yourself?"

"I am as well as I can be."

"That's good."

The group stands in place for a moment, Batman and Robin doing nothing to alleviate the nervous energy of the heroes in front of them. Eventually, it's Flash who breaks.

"Well, look at the time!" the speedster claps his hand together, "We don't want to be late, right?"

Superman nods in agreement. "Yeah." He turns to the two Gotham vigilantes, "Lead the way."

Batman nods and turns to put the coordinates for the Cave into the computer, authorizing the heroes to access the Batcave just this once. He motions to the Zeta Tubes and Robin steps in. Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, Martian Manhunter, Green Lantern, Flash, Cyborg, and Aquaman all take turns to follow him. Batman goes last.

Once in the Cave, the Gotham vigilantes allowed the Justice League heroes a few minutes to gawk. The cavern they were in was nothing special. It was a branch off from near the outskirts of the Cave, far enough away to stop any intruders that somehow got passed the Zeta security, but close enough that it only took a few minutes to reach the main cave. There were three Zeta Tubes set up in the small area with a security desk and computer to arm or disable any traps. A matching desk sat at the other end of the trapped hallway.

Entering the main area of the Cave, the JL took another few minutes to drink in the sight. Batman and Robin allowed them to. Nightwing didn't turn his chair yet, waiting for th perfect moment to announce himself.

"Is that- Why do you have a dinosaur in here?" Flash asked, having done a double take at the sight. The others join him.

Nightwing took the cue and spun the Batchair around dramatically. "To eat intruders."

The heroes turned to him as one unit, Lantern, Flash, Aquaman, and Cyborg openly gawking at the Batcomputer.

"Nightwing," Wonder Woman greeted, "It's good to see you."

"What the hell!" Cyborg cut in, holding himself back from running to the computer, though he speed-walked up to it. "It's beautiful."

"Isn't she?" Nightwing smirked, "B built her all by himself. The monitors are all TVs, custom wired to fit the frameless design."

"All seven?" Aquaman asked.

Nightwing nodded. "Yep! And the computer itself was custom, too! I helped with that, actually. It used to be a combination of three computers connected to the monitors, but I helped him condens it down to one shell connected to all seven monitors. RR keeps up the maintenance, though."

Green Arrow and Green Lantern also walked up to the desk. "It's an impressive display," Arrow said, "How long did it take?" He directed the question to Batman who joined the group, the rest coming up behind him.

"Three years and two months," the vigilante answered, "Two years to get everything together and wired properly. Another two months after Nightwing joined me as Robin to condense the three computers into one shell. A year to get everything coded and the firewalls up. As technology changes and programing gets better, so does the Batcomputer. She's intelligent all on her own, but RR and O are working on an AI for her."

"Who's-" Green Lantern was cut off by an alarm on the upper-most left monitor.

"Batcave, this is Oracle." she said, her voice coming through all the speakers in the Cave.

"Go ahead, O," Nightwing turned his chair back to face the computer, his hands flying between the three keyboards as he pulled up what the alarm was for .

"There's a problem in Bludhaven, 'wing, how fast can you be there?"

He pulled up a map of his home turf, seeing the false alarm at the BHPD. Though, what the Justice League didn't know wouldn't hurt them. "The bank on main, right?"

"That's the one."

"I'll be there in twenty tops."

"Alright."

Nightwing pushed the chair back, turning it and standing in one swift motion. Quickly, he made his way to where his bike was parked in the garage on the lower level of the Cave.

"Comms with Oracle," Batman ordered.

"As always!" he called back, pulling his helmet on before quickly peeling out of the Cave.

It was quiet as the sounds of the motorcycle faded out into the renovated cave system beneath the Crime Capital of the Country.

"Should we..." Martian Manhunter started, "Does he need help?"

Robin scoff lightly. "He will be fine. If he could not handle a minor bank robbery by himself, he would have died before transferring his mantle of Robin onto the next."

"Oh?" Aquaman turned his full attention to the child, "Who took the name after Nightwing?"

Robin didn't answer. Instead, he pointed to the dinosaur. "Our old costumes are kept on display downstairs by the penny. Would you like to see them?"

Wonder Woman, only falling second to Batman when children are involved, nodded. "Would you show the way?"

"Naturally." Taking the lead, Robin lead the group of heroes down the stairs and to the lower part of the Cave.

The upper, main, part of the Cave held the Batcomputer, the main entrances to the Manor, the Zeta Tubes, the lab, the meeting table, and the small med bay. The lower bar of the Cave was home to the training room, the displays, the large med bay, the Vault, the Batplane, and the garage.

"You really leaned into the whole gimmick, huh?" Superman nudged Batman with his elbow.

Cyborg watched him from the corner of his eye. "What do ya mean?"

The kryptonian pointed up. "There's about two hundred bats hanging up on the ceiling.

Flash flinched in on himself. "What?"

"This was their home before I took my name," Batman explained shortly.

Another alarm went off before anyone else could speak, though it was from Batman's gauntlet. He stepped away from the group knowing fully that they all could still hear.

"Hey, B!" Batwoman greeted, a smile evident in her voice.

"Batwoman," he responded. He hid his amusement as his coworkers stared at him in shock. "What's wrong."

"You remember Red Hood, right?"

"Obviously."

"Well, I've gotten into a bit of a pickle."

Batman cut her off with a sigh. "Send your coordinates, I'm on my way."

"Fantastic! Bring your grapple!" Then, she hund up.

"Is this a bad day?" Green Lantern asked, "We can leave and come back another day."

"Don't be ridiculous." Robin scolded, "I am more than capable of showing you around the Cave alone." He turned to his father, "Give Batwoman my greetings."

Batman grunted as he got into the Batmobile. Swiftly, he closed the door, turned the engine, and left the Cave.

Part 4 Part 6

[nonasuch]

Did you ever write more to the "vader finds out that leia I'd his daughter" story?

No but it’s been percolating in my head for a while so let’s go

(continuing from this)

The first thing Vader does is cover his tracks. Wipes the security cameras for the whole cell block, wipes the prisoner logs, makes sure that no trace of Leia’s capture or escape will be in the files synced daily with Imperial Center. Puts in transfer orders for that nervous junior officer to somewhere very far away and very quiet. Saves only one short vid clip, to the secret hard drive hidden in his own respirator.

I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.

While he’s doing this, his children (children! plural!) are getting themselves into trouble, and out again. Apparently the trash compactor was involved. He will have more footage to scrub. Somehow they’ve acquired a Wookie.

Kenobi is with them.

Vader should have foreseen this. Of course, Kenobi.

His presence saturates the Force, nearly drowning out Luke— and Leia, too, now that Vader knows to look. It’s enough to break Vader free from the chill of shock, his rightful fury seen as through a window right up until it shatters, and engulfs him again.

But he forces it back. He wants answers, before he kills Kenobi.

(I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.)

He hasn’t played the clip again, but it echoes in his ears nonetheless.

When he faces Kenobi, Vader is still off-balance. Kenobi seems as calm, as unruffled as he ever did, though he’s far too obvious in buying time for Leia and Luke to attempt an escape.

Vader asks him: “Do they know?”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Kenobi says, light and unconvincing.

“You kept them from me,” Vader says, and that is a thought that feeds the Dark, that lets him hammer at Kenobi’s saber until he’s nearly past his guard—

“I kept them from your master,” Kenobi says, his voice still even and pleasant and false, hardly betraying his exertion.

“I’ll kill you for this,” Vader vows.

“I expect so,” says Kenobi. “I swore I’d die before I let Palpatine harm another child in my care. If dying will keep them from him, it’s well worth the cost.”

(I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.)

By the end of this speech Kenobi recovers a little of his old skill, turning Vader’s blows aside instead of merely bearing up under their weight. Too soon, Vader falters, losing the momentum of rage. They both fall back to defensive positions. Any living troopers have long since cleared the area; the whole deck is a ruin of saber gouges and shattered armor.

Vader rarely speaks without thinking. The nature of his breathing apparatus makes this a necessity, more often than not. But the words escape him anyway.

“Who named them?”

And now Kenobi is the one who falters. It is satisfying, if short-lived. “Their mother,” he says. “With her last breaths.”

A long time ago — a lifetime away — there was a list of names. Two lists, really, to start with, and then another of the names held in common to both. No record of it survives, not even on the hard drive hidden next to Vader’s heart.

On Naboo, children are often named for virtues. A child might be called Aluuk, for kindness, or Alié, for wisdom.

On Tatooine, a child’s name is the parent’s hope for its future. Perhaps Lukka would grow to be free; perhaps Leyah would grow to be fierce.

And perhaps they have. Vader does not know. Kenobi took that from him.

Vader won’t kill him yet, though. He still has questions.

[spngi]

My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader

Part 1

Prologue

summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings

warnings: Grammar mistakes, citation of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating, angst

There's a warm breeze in the room, crossing through the space from the windows that remained open overnight, the scent of Spanish summer mixing with Carlos' aroma in the room. Carlos' arms surround me in bed, and I can't help but wake up to the kisses he spreads across my back.

"Good morning, darling," I murmur still drowsy to Carlos, turning to face him. He looks handsome in the morning, tousled hair, a silly smile on his face, his voice hoarse from sleep.

"Good morning, cariño," he replies, pulling me closer into his embrace, making me laugh; his hand is gentle as it touches my face in a light caress.

"That smile of yours makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world," Carlos says, and even after all this time together, he still makes me blush with affection.

"I'm the lucky one to have you, Carlos," I lightly kiss his lips. "I love you."

"I love you too," he responds.

Everything feels empty, the house filled with love and happiness now seems like a mausoleum, the hallways echoing even with people still in them, my head on the verge of collapsing along with my entire body. I feel broken, still alone, a million beautiful memories dancing in my head and wasted by the end.

Divorce. Just thinking of that word makes me nauseous. Five beautiful years shared reduced to a single piece of paper. I couldn't and wouldn't let that happen, no matter what Carlos tried; I wouldn't give that to him. Of all the long list of concessions I made to him, divorce wouldn't be added to it.

I can't go back to my room, I can't stay here without feeling the urge to go back to him, to plead and shake him until he comes to his senses, until he loves me again.

I return to the back of the house where Carlos had set aside a place for me to paint and have a moment of peace; there are many paintings hanging in that room, various phases of my life, our life. That studio was my safe haven. I close my eyes and try to breathe, pour myself a drink and put on an Etta James record.

It's when I finally look at the blank canvas in front of me, waiting to be filled, that I feel the tears rolling down, like a dam that has reached its limit.

"Y/n?" I hear Charles' voice calling me after a long time, catching me off guard. I try to quickly wipe the tears from my face, knowing it will be in vain.

"Hi," I turn to him, my voice trembling, and Charles tries not to stare at my state.

Charles is one of Carlos' right-hand men, helping him with business and also his security.

"Carlos asked me to deliver this to you," he places the same envelope from earlier on the table, and more tears roll down my eyes. He looks at me again, and I hate to seem so fragile in this moment.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, and I can't find the strength to respond; I just nod my head and hope he leaves. Although Leclerc was a great listener and a friend in his spare time, I didn't want to talk, to tell him what was going on. It would make the whole situation too real at this moment, so I just wait for him to leave so I can break down again.

I never opened the envelope; I didn't want to see what was inside, didn't want to know what I was worth in Carlos' eyes, didn't even want to negotiate how much our life together was worth. The papers went straight to the back of my closet, hidden from the world and from my eyes.

Carlos didn't sleep at home that night, even the next, and even the next four days. It was as if he was punishing me with his absence for not accepting the separation, as if leaving me wandering alone around the house would change my mind about it. The big house kept running, with staff and security guards wandering around. But Carlos didn't bother to come back home, or to take care of his own business, sending Charles back and forth all the time to pick up his papers and important things. And it's when I finally tire of this game that I decide to corner Charles.

He looks startled when he enters my husband's office and sees me there, sitting in Carlos' chair, with my Manolo Blahnik heels propped up on the table.

"Oh, Y/n... good morning, didn't expect to see you here," Leclerc sighs, and I give him a slight smile. "I came to get some things for Carlos and I'll leave you alone again."

"Actually, Charles..." I stand up and then firmly place my hands on the stack of documents he came to fetch. "The documents are staying; tell him to come get them personally."

"Y/n... Mrs. Sainz, I've been instructed to do just that," Charles replies. It hurts me to do this with him, the man had nothing to do with our marital problems but it was the only method of passing the message to Carlos.

"Don't think I'm trying to disrupt your life, Charles. Just pass on the message to him; I want him to come back home soon. He can't keep hiding in that tiny apartment forever." I lean on the table and watch his reaction as he realizes what I've said.

"Do you know where he is?" he asks me curiously.

"I found out the moment you left here on the first day," I smile cynically at Charles, "and I wouldn't want to have to go there to pay him a visit. I believe Carlos wouldn't like that either, as it would disturb the peace of the apartment's owner."

Charles still seemed surprised by the information I had. The truth was I couldn't keep dragging myself around the house in eternal sadness, wondering where my husband was. So, I took the opportunity to send my bodyguard after Charles. Lando was still young, but he was efficient and smart; he had been by my side since I moved into this house and Carlos decided it would be good for me to have some protection. As Lando was young, maybe it would be easier for me to get used to him, and it really was; we became good friends over time. Once he found out Carlos' address, it was easy to find out whose apartment it was and who the girl was.

Martina. That name sounded bitter in my head.

"I'll be keeping this for him for now, and it was good to see you, Charles," I smile, dismissing him.

I smile as I watch him leave, feeling at least somewhat victorious today. I look at his office again, pick up the picture frame I found stored earlier in the drawer, and place it on Carlos' desk again. The image makes me smile nostalgically; the photo of our wedding fills me with a bit of hope, the happiness in our eyes, love radiating from the photo. Maybe I could make everything go back to normal.

When I get up the next day, I'm not surprised to see Carlos at the table having coffee. That was good; he had come and was at home after all. He looks at me through his coffee cup, his eyes expressing no emotion, but it's comforting to have him there, sitting in our living room having coffee.

"It's good to see you," I greet him and sit next to him at the table.

"I wish I could say the same," he says, placing the cup on the table, "but you know I hate being pressured."

"I gave you five days, dear. Believe me, I was patient and kind," I fidget nervously with the ring on my finger. "Listen, we need to talk, open up to each other... Being alone in these last few days was horrible; this huge house where..."

Carlos doesn't let me finish speaking. He smiles, that kind of evil smile he gives when he's plotting something, the same evil smile I've seen so many times directed at someone else.

"I'm glad you mentioned that," he interrupts. "You were right about saying that apartment was tiny. And as you yourself said, this house is huge, so I believe you won't mind me bringing one more guest," he speaks naturally, as if he hadn't done something horrible, as if it wasn't enough to have tainted our marriage, he had to taint our home now, as if he wanted me to hate him more each day.

"You wouldn't do that," I reply shocked.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" he asks, pointing to the large door leading to the garden and the pool of the house, the smile never leaving his lips.

[silverzoomies]

Imagine quickie rails u so good u squirt but you’re low key embarrassed bc that’s never happened before but he talks you through it so sweetly and so hornily bc he obviously finds it the hottest thing in the world and he’s kinda obsessed with the fact that you just did that bc of him

…..yeah I need to know what he’s like talking you through it …….

anon, i'm so sorry. i dunno if this is what you were expecting. but i went a little off the rails. i haven't actually sat down and written anything in fifty gajillion years. apologies in advance if i'm super duper rusty. you're a doll, by the way. thanks for the inspiration !! this ask had me red in the face all over again !! 🤍 here's a short drabble for ya 🤍🤍🤍

In the boring emptiness of some secret, government research facility, soft squeals call out with ecstasy.

Hold that thought.

Aren’t you supposed to be on patrol?

🤍

Since the OG X-Men were busy with more important endeavors (another fancy gala. Huge snore fest), Xavier took it upon himself to recruit some newbie trainees. He sent three of them to a top secret facility. Super below radar. The building sat far away from the bustle of society, hidden at an off-the-record base.

It’s around one AM when Quicksilver himself finally crashes your boring, patrol party. He zips through the entire building, scouting the area; before checking in on the trainees. After sending the other two off on their twenty minute breaks, he soon finds you.

A newbie he’s far more acquainted with. In more ways than one.

But not as many as he’d like.

You look bored as hell sitting there by yourself, swirling in a swivel chair. A series of CCTV screens flicker before you. But you barely pay them any attention. Keeping your head down, clipboard on your lap; you doodle all over a security protocol sheet. Your legs kick in a childlike way.

Your first, official mission is the most lame of X-Men operations. But even despite that, you appear to be in high spirits. Peter’s almost jealous. The first time he joined up with the team, all he got out of it was a lousy, broken leg.

Anyway, you’re cute and all. But…don’t you have a job to do, you slacker?

Peter leans against the doorway, his hands nestled in the pockets of his silver, bomber jacket. Beady eyes watch you through the lenses of his goggles. His earphones hang around his neck. A quiet jam resonates from them. But you're so mesmerized by your doodling, you don't even notice.

In a flash, Peter makes his presence known. Big hands grab your shoulders hard. He leans in to whisper sternly in your ear. His voice vibrates, robust and quaking in an attempt to spook you.

“GOTCHA! Annnnnnnd, yer dead, kid! Mwahahaha!”

You swivel around in an instant. Hopping from your seat, you raise your hands in defense. Jeez! Peter's caught off guard by how quickly you react. Blinding beams of golden light burst from your palms. The same glow floods your eyes. You hurl scorching hot rays in Peter's direction.

Well…shit.

Thanks to Xavier's mad training skills, Peter's a little faster than light nowadays. And he's ultra lucky for it. Had you raised your hands and gone pew pew pew so many years ago - he probably would've charred to a crisp right then and there. 

“Damn! You got some killer aim! That was a close call.” He whistles. Peter gawks at the holes seared into the wall, straight through some ruined blueprints. A smirk plays on his lips. He gestures at the damage with a thumb, “Eh, they probably got backups ‘a those lyin’ around, right?”

Your only response is an affectionate eye roll. But Peter notes the curl at the corner of your mouth as you try not to smile. 

Screw it. You're pretty fun. Why doesn't he hang with you for a bit? He's probably got some time to kill. At least before Chuck realizes the speedster isn't dressed to the nines, bored out of his mind at the gala.

The two of you goof off for a few minutes. As you doodle, Peter looms over your seat. Watching the CCTV screens with a ready eye, he teases you about your lack of focus on the job. You're just such a supreme newbie, he can't help it.

To which you respond with a counterpoint - isn't he the reigning champion of getting sidetracked?

Touché, little newbie. Touché.

Boredom quickly makes him antsy. And being antsy has Peter's brain reaching for any stimulation he can find. Pacing the room, Peter casts subtle glances at your figure in tactical clothing. Hot damn. Black really does highlight your most bodacious assets.

Amidst casual conversation, Peter shamelessly flirts with you. And when you flirt back, he isn’t all that fazed. The two of you are always making saucy passes at one another. Horny topics of discussion happen more often than they should. You once poured your heart out for twenty minutes, complaining that you couldn’t squirt when you got off. Part of him took this confession as a challenge.

Peter never forgot how sexually charged the energy of that night was.

Or…maybe it wasn’t? Maybe you just wanted to vent to someone who would listen. Yeah. He’s probably uber delusional. That ‘energy’ might’ve come from the sunbeams radiating in your genes.

Sure. Nothing sexual.

But if that’s the case, why else are you giving him bedroom eyes - if not ‘cuz you really wanna bone?

Expelling a bland sigh, Peter leans back against the console where the CCTV screens are. He bounces a random ball he swiped from a researcher’s desk. Flirtatious teasing continues back and forth, remaining casual.

Until Peter makes a needlessly suggestive comment.

“I’m just sayin’. Picture this, ‘kay? You ‘n me, goin’ at it like there’s no tomorrow. Pretty sure I’d get you off in under, say, three minutes er less. That’s not a promise, it’s a fact.”

Throwing you a sly look, Peter smirks payfully. He bounces the ball again.

“Pshh. Not fast enough.” You mumble.

Peter’s dark gaze leers at you from under his brows.

Oh. Oh no, you didn't just...

His eyes fire across each CCTV screen, double checking for any unwanted visitors. All clear, it’s go time. Moving swiftly, he props you up on a nearby desk. At record speed - before you can begin to comprehend his impossibly fast actions - he crams six inches of girthy, speedster cock inside you. All without any warning.

In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have been so impulsive. But in the microsecond it took him to move your body and pull your pants off, at the very least; he had the courtesy to prep you with his fingers. And now, you’re coming undone as he jackhammers your cunt. Peter rolls into you in a blur of silver motion. Your walls clench perfectly over his cock.

You protest through shallow moans, “W-Wait! Oh my g-...too fast, Peter! Too fast!”

The tips of his fingers circle your clit, the vibrations shattering your moans. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you bring him closer. Peter shivers as your pussy squeezes him so tight. It’s an outrageously awesome sensation that drives him to drill his dick deeper. Tilting forward, he groans, his lips grazing yours.

“Y’think I can make you squirt like this?” He chuckles, his throat bobbing as he swallows down a moan.

You shake your head wildly, whimpering the softest, “Noooooo! I told you already, I cannnnn’t!”

“Huh? What’s that, cutie? Aw. Too bad. ‘Cuz I’m not gunna slow down ‘til you do.” Peter teases, looking over his shoulder at the CCTV screens. He smirks crookedly, “Better be quick. Yer teammates’re gunna be back soon.”

You tip your head back as you whine again. Peter ruts into you so inexplicably fast, his pace renders your lungs useless. His fingers keep torturing your clit, guiding your pearl in a whirring dance of speedy buzzes. You shudder, clawing into his arms as your hips move on instinct. 

Speeding the rhythm of his thrusts, Peter furrows his brows. His cock pulses when he watches your tits bounce in your shirt. He bites his lip to stifle a whimper. Below him, you try to call his name. But his powerful movements rupture your pretty voice. “Hell yeah, gorgeous. That’s it. Don’t hold back, ‘kay? Just let it happen. Gunna cum, pretty girl? C’mon, ya gotta cum for me. You can do it. C’mon.” He begs, his tone a little closer to a whine.

Not even two minutes into sexing you up, he has you gushing a spritz of luscious heat. Score. He'll be thinking about this sexy success for weeks. The corners of your eyes leak hot tears, as a rapturous orgasm overtakes you. The entire, lower half of your body tightens, muscles clenching. Your pussy pops with a juicy burst. Leaking down your thighs and ass, your slick coats his twitchy cock.

He kisses you, his breath burning hot, “Doin’ so good, princess. So good for me. Was that fast enough for you? Hmm? Oh, fuck. I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-”

Pulling his soaked length free, he showers your tummy in virile, white jets. Leaning over you, Peter laughs again, exhaling a long sigh of elation. His lips capture yours, drinking in your kisses for a few beats. He feels his heart twist with satisfaction. All at the awesome notion that he drove you to such an intimate, breaking point.

“How’s that for a quickie?” He teases with a cheeky grin, winking down at you.

Your blinky eyes gaze over his shoulder, looking somewhat dazed. Beneath him, you stir in place. You’re trying to say something. But you’re so braindead from the totally slammin’ orgasm he gave you, the words won’t happen.

But then, Peter notices the way your glazed hues narrow. That vibrant, golden glow from earlier returns. Sitting up on an elbow, you raise a hand to point at the CCTV screens behind him. Oh, you probably saw someone on cam. Peter’s dark gaze widens. A sudden beam of light pulsates at the tip of your finger.

“NO, NO, NO, NO-” He starts.

Too late. The golden flash fires like a speeding bullet from your fingertip, colliding into the screens. A powerful burst shatters the entire CCTV setup on impact. Electric static buzzes amongst broken glass and fried wires. Peter sighs, looking over his shoulder, then back down at your cute face.

“Babe, seriously? Now’s not the time to be tryin’ interior decorating!” He rolls his eyes, playing ignorant to your shared romp in the research lab, “Hold that thought...aren’t you supposed to be on patrol?”

[gamerwoman3d]

Please Be Bi-Han 🙏

🔞 An MK1 x Reader 🔞

You aren't supposed to be in this timeline.

And to you, this timeline shouldn't exist. But it does. And this timeline is particularly exploitable, given the things you know which no one else in this timeline does. You slip into the timeline and abuse your knowledge to unethically gain just enough wealth to live very, very comfortably. And you laugh because this timeline is literally just a game to you. Admittedly, you came here to try to seduce the hotties. But when you figured out just how easy it would be to game the financial system here, you did that.

Imagine not being shocked at all to see Liu Kang at your doorstep with his Lin Kuei goons. You could laugh. You know him. You know all three, no, all four of them; your attraction to them is what initially drew you to this timeline. The fourth you knew by smell alone; the campfire scent in the air proved that Smoke was with them, somewhere ready for action yet invisible to your eyes.

Imagine closing the door to your beautiful private mansion in their face before any of them even speak. Imagine bolting it, locking it, chaining it, only to tell them through the speaker, "Whoever breaks this door down and finds me first gets laid."

🔞 Spicy/Explicit after the cut 🔞

Now you, you have installed several small panic rooms throughout your mansion with which to play hide and seek. So you go do that, smirking to yourself as you watch the group through the security cam app on your phone. But back up a moment to just before these guys arrived.

Liu Kang smirked as he collected his warriors at the edge of a portal that would lead conveniently into a hidden driveway outside the privacy walls near your garden.

"I have a fun little mission for us today. Geras discovered someone manipulating the financial trajectory of our timeline that isn't supposed to be here. We need to go get them, and convince them to stop, without violence."

"Respectfully, Lord Liu Kang - If you don't need violence, why did you call us? If we can't stab it, it's most likely someone else's problem," Smoke said out of turn.

"There are other methods of coercion, Smoke. And if Geras' revelations for this mission are proven true, then methods of seduction are on the table," Liu Kang responded flatly.

Liu Kang wanted to laugh. The synchronized single-eyebrow raise of the three masked ninjas before him was too cartoonish to seem real.

Fast forward.

You get a good run, scrambling to your hiding place.

"I thought this might be the case," you hear Liu Kang say in your earbud, from audio played through the phone collected from the front door security recorder.

"Seduction really is the game this evening," Scorpion said, "even with you saying as much, I am still surprised."

"Are we making a competition of it? Or am I the only one that will be chasing after that cutie?" said Smoke from seemingly nowhere.

"Don't blow your cover, brother. We're not sure if we're being recorded. It could give us an advantage if you'd keep quiet," Sub-Zero said.

"It's a competition," Scorpion interjected before slamming his boot into the door, rattling it in it's frame.

A few kicks, body slams did nothing. Sub-Zero guided the others out of the way, froze the door handle in it's place, then pulled the mechanism - deadbolts and all - through the crystallized steel. He tossed it to the side and booted open the door, which swung freely and hit the interior wall with such force that one might have expected the crash to come from a vehicle accident.

You bounce in your place, trying not to giggle as you watch the men through your tablet. You had hoped Bi-Han would breech the door first, but now the men crept inside and began to hunt for you. You saw all except Smoke, just before the power went down, taking your security feed with it.

You were in the dark, now, lit only by the glow of a tablet that showed the wifi disconnected. You swiftly realized that Smoke must have gone to cut the power - and had the foresight to cut the backup power first.

Smart of him, you thought. But now, in the dark, there was nothing left to do but wait for one of them to discover your hiding spot. Every little noise you heard made your heart jump in anticipation of being caught.

"Please be Bi-Han, please be Bi-Han," you chanted in a whisper under your breath.

FOR PART TWO - LINKS BELOW POLL

...

And now I'll be a bit evil.

ADVENTURE TIME. C'MON GRAB -

Part 2a(i): Sub-Zero discovers F! Reader

Part 3a(i): Sub-Zero toys with F! Reader (to be read after part 2a(i)

Part 2b(i): Smoke discovers F! Reader

Part 2b(ii): Smoke discovers M! Reader

Part 3b(i): Smoke fucks F! Reader (to be read after part 2b(i)

[iceman-kazansky]

Did You Even Care?

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Requested by: none

Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x f!Reader

Warnings: Angst to fluff, explicit language (swearing), arguing, graphic kissing, reader is a naval aviator, my writing lmao

A/n: Wrote this on a kinda-whim. Also, first publicly published Rooster fic on Tumblr? what? No wayyyy. This is a product of my recent Rooster/Top Gun obsession as of late btw.

Taglist: @footprintsinthesxnd @inglourious-imagines

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ || ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥

Your footsteps echoed down the hall as you walked alone, lost in your own thoughts. Further down the hallway, behind an almost closed door, you could hear muffled voices as you passed. Voices that raised into yelling. Unable to resume your own thinking, consumed by the argument that is rapidly escalating, you stop.

Truthfully, you hadn't planned on eavesdropping– but it just kind of happened.

Standing just out of sight, hidden behind the door frame, you listened to the two men arguing.

“Why did you stand in my way?” The one yells, and instantly you recognize the voice to be Bradley Bradshaw’s.

You listen intently as Bradley throws countless insults at the other person you've identified as Maverick, and with each one you think of how cruel and unfair Bradley is being.

The argument seems to be ending, but Bradleys quiet voice reminds you it's not yet over, “If you care about me then make it up to me by not choosing y/n for the mission. Choose me instead.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in anger and hurt at his sudden words. Confusion rapidly overwhelms you. What did you have to do with this? And what business did Bradley have removing you from the chance of being picked as a possible pilot?

The small thought occurred to you that maybe he'd wanted the position himself. And you threatened that. How, you weren't certain, but it was enough for him to try persuading the team's Captain.

Not needing to hear any more and sensing the argument was soon to be finished, you turned on your heel quickly and marched down the hallway in a pained rage.

Who did he think he was, getting you removed from the mission? You'd trained just as hard as everyone else so why did he go out of his way to guarantee you not getting picked as a pilot on the mission?

Hot tears sprung to your eyes as you borderline ran down the hall to escape Rooster and Maverick. You had truly thought Bradley cared about you. Had foolishly wondered if he'd ever give you the time and day and see you as more than a friend. But now, the looks that he'd sent your way, the tender softness and care he'd displayed seemed nothing more than a masquerade. Whatever his reasoning, you didn't care to hear.

You heard Bradley's unmistakable voice call your name, and next the quick tapping of his shoes as he ran down the hall to catch up with you.

He called your name again, a lot closer, but when once again you didn't answer, he grabbed your arm and turned you around to face him.

“Y/n–” He began, but you quickly cut him off.

“No, Bradshaw. I don't want to hear it!”

“Just listen– please! I can explain” He pleads.

You can feel your anger building inside of you, “explain what?” You shriek, not caring if anyone hears you, “How dare you! I've worked just as hard if not harder than most to get to where I am, to be called back for a mission, and you've selfishly gone and ruined it for me!”

He sighs in frustration, his voice also raising to meet yours, “Would you please just listen!?”

You don't follow his words, instead pressing further, “What reason could you possibly even have to fucking stop me from going? Because the way I see fit, you're nothing but a selfish asshole who wants to secure the position for yourself! Are you insecure I'm going to beat you to it and it'll be on my record, not yours? Then fine, Bradshaw, have it. I don’t fucking care!”

Bradley is fuming, his skin hot in anger, he was already fired up from his argument with Maverick and this was only fueling his rage. Why won't you listen? “I did it for you!” He all but yells at you, his voice loud in the empty hall, making you shrink away a little in shock, “Why don't you fucking understand that?”

Stunned, but not missing a beat, you reply sarcastically, “I'm sure removing me from the mission in order to get yourself the position is totally ‘for me,” your words are sharp like barbed wire with an unseen rage that simmers beneath your skin, pumping through your veins.

“I did it to protect you, goddamnit!” He bellows suddenly, catching you off guard.

For a long minute, there's nothing but silence, Bradley's angry face dark and dangerously close to yours, his hot breath fanning your face as he puffs loudly in anger. To protect me? You think, why? You don't say anything, instead staring at him with shock. His deep brown eyes ignited with flames of fury as they stared into yours, and you can physically and emotionally feel the anger ebbing away and confusion settling in to take its place.

“Why?” You croak quietly, breaking the silence.

“Because I love you,” he whispers back hesitantly, his hardened face softening.

“I don't need your protecting, Brad,” you say calmly, your voice hushed.

Perhaps it's the gentle, calming softness of your voice, or the heat from the previous confession and emotions left to linger, or maybe even the use of the short nickname from you, but whatever it is has him leaning forwards slightly to place his lips gently on yours in a passionate kiss.

You don't reciprocate immediately, instead pausing in a stupefied state and paralyzed with shock. However, the feeling quickly passes, and your body is overcome with a hunger– a desire– making you melt into him and supply as much passion as he does.

Together, your lips pressing together like two lost souls who've finally found their way back to each other in the most ardent way, you let the strong sense of love you'd held out. Through the years you'd known Bradley, you'd kept your feelings at bay, pushing them down with acceptance that he'd never see you like that, but now– with his admission of love, you'd been handed a key to unlock those pent up emotions in one passionate kiss.

You knew you were standing in the hall and any unsuspecting personnel could walk up at any moment, but you didn't care. The whole world pauses around you and the only thing you focus on is the solstice you find in each other.

Leaning away from Bradley, you breathe a sigh of happiness, “I love you.”

His brown eyes are filled with admiration and awe when he repeats, “I love you more.”

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Please Please Please - Rafe Cameron Short Story (Part 6 of 6 Final Chapter and Epilogue)

Bonus smut chapter is complete - making final edits now 💕

+18 Minor DNI

Older MobDealer!Rafe x Female Reader

⭐ NEW DROP ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

🪄 Warnings contain spoilers: blood, cheating, swearing, name-calling, threats, soft!rafe, mentions of killing partner, kissing, general violence, guns, fighting, ownership kink, mention of drugs, stabbing, murder, major character trauma, pet names.

📖 Loosely based on the song and music video Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter 💕

✨ “You are. You think I’m gonna believe that line of shit. ‘Bout her lyin’ to me? About you beating the livin’ shit out of her to throw me off? ✨

Reader’s POV:

You roll into the parking lot, unable to fight back your smile. The week was long, but the phone conversations with Rafe held you over just enough. The jail in Charleston wasn’t as lax as Kildare County. Understandably, Rafe did not want to push his limits, leaving the phone conversations shorter than you’d hoped they’d be. Until Rafe was out and everything was taken care of, he didn’t want you to leave the penthouse, which meant no face-to-face visits, leaving you craving him even.

Rafe ensured you were taken care of: additional security, groceries sent over, dinner brought by every night, fresh-cut flowers when he thought the old ones had wilted. Rafe had the G-Wagon scrubbed and triple-checked for any additional trackers placed or bugs planted.

He paid a hefty fee to have the cops delete a single recorded call between the two of you. Rafe wanted to know what happened the night he had gotten taken away by the officers. He wanted to know what Tony had said in the voicemail, and what happened between the restaurant and the penthouse. Everything was awful, but the voicemail conjured up the most fury. Rafe dissected each word, dragging Tony; your ex’s vile words just added fuel to the fire, like he needed any more. Rafe was very conscious with his words, careful not to incriminate himself further, emphasizing the importance of the business meeting, and that he was looking forward to it even more now.

Of course, given the situation, you couldn’t ask about Tony. His well-being wasn’t the concern, just curiosity. Where was he? Where did Barry take him? It’s been seven days… He must be well-hidden, or his boys would have found him by now. There’s no way he’s dead… Rafe would never allow Barry to take that pleasure away from him.

A conversation— it’s never a conversation with these men, even more satirical after watching how the first one unfolded. If Tony had been there, this would have been over. Maybe this is how it was supposed to happen. I’m sure Rafe has a few things he wants to say to Tony before he pulls the trigger. There are so many things I want to say to him. I wish I could have been strong enough to take the call at the bar. His words have done nothing but haunt me. But maybe I was meant to hear it too… Any fraction of guilt I had about my choices were eliminated in an instant.

The door of the jail fans open, just like it did the week before; Rafe all smiles once again. He bites his lip as he walks to you, taking you in like it's the very first time. Rafe shakes his head in awe as he looks down at you, clearing the space between as you do the same. You jump into his arms, hugging him tightly, burying yourself in his neck. He kisses wherever he can, mumbling against your soft skin about how you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen and feelings mutual. Seeing the beautiful man before you, paired with all the lovely things he did brings nothing but tears and emotion. “I love you, Rafe. I love you so much,” you snivel.

“Mmm…” He hums happily, taking his turn kissing up the column of your neck to your ear. “I love you, princess.”

You pull back and smile, eyes locked. His ocean eyes shimmer with happy tears as well. Rafe’s gaze falls to your lips, his focus like a magnet pulling you in. Your arms wrap loosely around his neck as he cradles you in his embrace. Rafe backs you against the car, deepening the exchange. Your tongue swirls with his, lips moving in perfect harmony. He smiles along your mouth, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Damn, I missed my girl.”

Rafe grips the steering wheel, the other hand resting on your bare thigh. His gold chain twinkles on his athletic chest, poking slightly out of his black fitted polo. It had taken everything in your power not to pull him into the back seat after watching him change out of the button-down he walked in with, still sprinkled with blood from the club. He looks at you with a smirk, catching you gawking, loving every second of your attention. “It’ll be a short meeting. Aight? Think you can wait?” He teases, making your cheeks warm up as you fight back a dizzy laugh.

“Honestly, I don’t think I can.” You take his hand in yours, lifting it, kissing his fingers one by one. “I still have to thank you, baby.”

Rafe releases a lusty laugh, relaxing in his leather seat a little more. “Trust me, princess. I have not forgotten. I've thought about it every night. But, a ‘thank you’ is not necessary… I love takin’ care of you, and I always will.” The car speeds past the town’s welcome sign, barreling toward the Atlantic.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“You’re droppin’ me off at the beach house, baby. You can head over to Tanneyhill. I’ll meet you there when I’m done, and we can get out of here. How does that sound?” He smiles. You clear the lump in your throat, trying to focus on the question Rafe is asking, but your mind is fixated on the rest of his words. Rafe wants me to leave? “Baby?” he asks gently. 

“I’m dropping you off…” You question uneasily. “Don’t you want me to come with you? Don’t you need me close by?”

The muscles in Rafe’s arms flex as he tightens his hand around the steering wheel, shaking his head ‘no’ as he narrows his sights on the road. “I don���t want you to see this, princess,” he responds levelly, his eyes landing on yours.

“Couldn’t Barry take care of him?” You invite without thinking. Rafe’s brows knit tightly, a puzzled look pulling on his beautiful face.

“No… Why, baby?” He asks, trying his best to keep his compass on the road ahead.

“I don’t know,” you answer hastily. “I just don’t - I don’t know.” Your stomach sinks, uneasiness setting in. After everything that Tony has done and said, he’s better off dead, but thinking about him dying at the hands of Rafe mere minutes from now had your heart racing. I can't help but think about the fact that he bamboozled Rafe not once but twice. He would have walked into an ambush at the strip club without me there… He had no clue the drugs were planted in the Mercedes. “I don’t know!”

“What don’t you know, exactly?” He asks as he pulls up to the beach house, sailing into the driveway, pulling between a vintage BMW and the white van that Tony got taken away in. Rafe turns toward you, demanding your attention. “Are you having second thoughts about this?” He questions, his words dripping with accusation.

“No!” You gasp. “I - I just. I don’t know, Rafe. I’m just freaking out. Okay?” You whimper as tears start to cloud your vision, your anxiety about the situation making your mind muddled.

“Do you want him to live?” He asks. It’s hard to place his tone; Rafe at the junctions between perplexed and agitated, his frustration with you clear in his body language alone.

“Of course I don’t. I want this to be over with,” you blubber.

”So do I, princess. And we talked about this before. It’s not going to be me and you if he’s here. Do you want it to be me and you-”

”Yes!” You cry out before he can even finish his sentence.

“Don’t think about it then, Aight? Let me handle business. This is why I don’t want you in there. I don’t want this on your conscience. I want to handle this for you. And we will never talk about this again. Okay?” You nod in silent agreement, but he shakes his head ‘no’. “Words, baby.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Rafe leans in, kissing you softly. You cup his cheeks in your hands, running your thumbs along the stubble that’s grown on his face since confinement. “I’m sorry for doubting you, Rafe, but things keep goin’ wrong. Tony keeps getting in the way. I don’t want him to hurt you. I don’t wanna lose you.”

He melts into your touch, looking at you with adoring eyes. “You’re not gonna lose me. And he’s not gonna hurt me. All right? He’s strapped to a chair. He has been for a week. This is just a matter of me lookin’ him in the eyes and letting him know that he will never get to hurt you again. Yeah?”

“Okay, baby,” you breathe as Rafe catches your tears with his thumbs.

“I love you, y/n. It’s all going to be okay.”

“Okay… I love you too, baby.”

“I know you do,” he whispers. “Once I close this door, I want you to drive. Understand?” He asks as he opens up the navigation on your phone, pulling up the address to his home in Figure Eight. “Remember what happened last time I told you to leave but you stayed an extra two minutes. You gotta listen to me,” he asserts.

“I’ll listen.”

“Promise?”

“I swear,” you whisper.

Rafe grabs the handle of the driver’s side door, pushing it open before walking around the front, helping you to your feet. His arm wraps around your waist, leading you to the other side. He hugs you tightly, pressing kisses on your forehead and cheeks before landing on your lips, kissing you one last time.

“Just a conversation,” you whisper.

“Nah,” he breathes. “Not this time. I love you, princess.”

“I love you too, Rafe.”

Your hand holds his as he steps away until your fingers lose contact. Rafe reaches behind his back just as he did the night you walked into the club, checking the pistol tucked into his waistband before falling out of sight. You step into the driver’s seat, wrapping your hands around the steering wheel, still warm from Rafe. You grab the shifter, putting it in reverse, fighting against the impulse to wait in the wings ‘til he handles business, just in case he needs to flee. This man gives and gives. He has barely asked me for anything in return. Just leave. You roll out of the drive, pressing down on the gas.

Rafe’s POV:

“Barry?” I bark, my voice bouncing off the walls of the beach house. Rap music swells from the basement, the dank smell of weed hazing the place. My aggravation starts to mount; a SOLO cup crushes under the heel of my dress boot, just one of many. Empty liquor bottles and beer cans litter the counter, takeout food strewn across the tables, thongs, stripper heels, and a few stray lines of coke left cut on the counter. “I’m gonna kill him,” I curse his name under my breath as I bound toward the basement door.

I tug it open, my heart plunging as I see a pool of blood gathered on the floor. Shit. I catch my gun, heart banging as I race down the flight. “Oh, fuck… No. Sh-Shit. Barry?” I stutter as I run toward him, his white tank top drenched crimson red. His dark eyes lift momentarily, falling heavy the next. I catch his shallow breathing, leaning in close as he tries to mumble out a few words, quelled in blood.

“Tony?” I ask, watching as he gives me the slightest nod. This blood is fresh. He’s here.

BANG.

I draw my gun again as the door at the top of the stairs bangs shut. Here we go… I sprint toward the wall, half-hidden, listening to his heavy steps as they move closer and closer.

“You hidin’ from me, Cameron?” Tony’s voice cuts through the hush. “That was an awful lotta coke. You come to pay up? Or, did you just come to take somethin’ else from me?” He booms as he steps out, footing right past me.

He looks like shit. His white button-down shirt tattered and bloodied on his large body; Tony’s donning the same worn-in beard as me after his week of imprisonment in the basement. The fucker got the shorter end of the stick apparently, beaten to the edge of death, Barry doing all but killing the bitch.

I check his hands, breathing a sigh of relief; no gun. I adjust my mine as I see a weapon, however, a large kitchen knife clutched in his massive hand. End this. I find his head in my crosshairs, aiming my pistol at his skull, gritting my teeth, battling with the rational part of my brain that’s tellin’ me to fire. The irrational part of my mind yearning to feed my pride and tell him everything I wanna say for her… Tony bends around, smiling with blood-stained teeth. Shit.

“You gonna shoot, Cameron? Or you gonna just stand there like a pussy,” Tony spits.

“We got some shit we need to talk about first. Hmm?”

“You wanna talk about my girl-“

“My girl,” I stop him as I step a little closer, making him shake his head in disbelief, snickering cruelly as he looks back at me.

“Yours? Your girl? Since when exactly. ‘Cause she never said shit to me. Do you honestly think that she loves you? Are you that fuckin’ stupid?” He asks as he rolls up his sleeves, preparing for a fight.

“I know she loves me,” I grunt as I square up with him.

“You think she’d leave me? It was our plan for you to die at the club. She knew it. I knew it. You were just supposed to walk in.”

”You’re lyin’,” I spit.

“Am I?” He smiles again— that same wicked and crazed smile; punch-drunk after a week of torture. “You know I’m not, Rafe.”

“You are. You think I’m gonna believe that line of shit. ‘Bout her lyin’ to me? About you beating the livin’ shit out of her to throw me off? You think I believe you you’d actually let me fuck-”

”ENOUGH!” He thunders, his loud, deep voice making my muscle tense up. “Don’t finish that FUCKING sentence. Because how hard you make this is how hard she's gonna get it after I KILL you. You understand?”

“You can't even let me finish the sentence, Marietta. You can’t even let the words leave my lips,” I chuckle. “Ya know, about fuckin’ “your” girl, on the couch of your club? That same couch you fucked some stripper on. You think I believe that you’d actually let that happen? She ain’t in on this, Tony. This is you losin’ her and settin’ me up.” He steps closer and so do I, the pair of us level-eyed.

“I’m not lyin’. That women would do anything for me. And, at the end of the day, even if I am lyin’, she’d only want you for your money, Cameron. I’m man enough to admit you got more than me— new money and old money in your pocket. She saw an opportunity and took it. She’s either in on this or in it for the cash.”

“She’s not after my money,” I mumble as I try to keep my emotions at bay. “She’s not in on shit.”

“‘Course she is… Your head is just too far up your ass to see what’s really goin’ on around you. N’let’s just say my baby isn’t in on this with me and she just after your money and she finds someone else with more, buddy, you’re fucked. ‘Cause if you get what you came here for and you kill me, everything in my name goes to her: all of the hard earned money that I made that she loves to spend, the club, the law firm, my cars, my jewelry, my homes. Everything that I have she takes from me. And she knows that. You gotta see what’s goin’ on here. Right?” He asks as he looks back at me like I'm stupid.

“You’re pathetic.”

“I’m pathetic?” He chuckles. “You know before your boys picked me up, I was on the way to fuck my girlfriend in that pretty little penthouse you bought her. She even sent me a few pictures in that pretty pink lingerie. You know, the one she was describin’ for you on the phone? Fuck, Rafe. You should see it on her. My princess doesn’t just talk a big game. She knows how to fuck,” he sneers as he catches me battling my emotions. “Why don’t you go look at my phone. Pretty sure it’s in his pocket. You can see for yourself.”

My stomach falls as I hear the door crack at the top of the stairs—one step then another, as the person at the top creeps down. No. No. Tony hears it as well, the man looking over my shoulder with a smile. “Guess who’s here, Cameron,” he whispers. “Princess?” Tony softens his tone with her, the sound of y/n’s slight feet stopping in a flash.

Was this her plan all along?

I scrunch my nose; eyes burning with tears of deceit and rage. There’s no way the story he’s spinning is true. If he kills me, and he’s lying, what will happen to her? I can’t take that risk.

I shove him hard, making him stumble back, kicking him with the heel of my dress shoe square in the chest before he can rise back up to his feet, sending him and the knife to the ground. I hear her soft gasp; her feet quickly clearing the rest of the steps. “Don’t move, y/n,” I bark back at her.

“Rafe?” She whimpers, making me look over my shoulder. The second I do the air flees my lungs, Tony’s big body tackling me to the floor. My skull ricochetes off the hardwood floor; eyes slamming shut in pain, losing my gun in the process. I overpower him, rolling him to his back, grabbing his shoulders I lift him slightly, bashing his head against the ground again and again making him scream out in pain.

He scratches and claws at my face and shirt as I wrap my hands around his throat, squeezing with all my might. "Not so easy to fight a man. Huh?" I hiss.

"F-Fuck you," he stammers as he throws a rough punch, meeting my jaw. I respond with four of my own. The connections, direct and brutal, the dried blood on his face replaced with fresh blood as his body starts to go limp.

Finally.

I stare down at him, lifeless, one with the floor, his breathing almost nonexistent. I draw my hand back, slapping him across the face, his head snapping to the side; body unresponsive to the pain. I drag myself to my feet, stumbling across the living room for my gun. An execution. This ends right here. Right now.

My chin trembles with adrenaline and emotion as I try to get his words out of my head. There’s no way she was in on this all along. Everything she shared with me, the things she said to me, the things we did… That was real. She's here ‘cause she was worried. She's here ‘cause her intuition was right. She's here for me.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. My heart sinks, the rapid bounding of Tony’s feet stopped almost as soon as it start. It’s quiet, wet gurgling and a soft whimpers are all that remains. I turn around, facing Tony but his eyes aren’t on me. He looks down at his chest, the bloodied tip of carboned steel poking out from his chest. He falls to his knees before me, y/n standing behind him in shock, watching as he tumbles face-first on the floor.

She looks up at me, eyes filled to the brim with tears. I run to her, pulling her into my arms, holding her body close as she clings to me for dear life.

I haven't let her go since. It wouldn't feel right. I hold her, watching as the sun sets in the east; a blood-red sky, painted across the Atlantic. The last sliver of the golden sun dips below the horizon. I kiss her gently on her cheek, down the soft flesh on her neck to the dip on her shoulder before resting my chin on top. “Are you okay, baby,” she whispers. I rest my hands on the top of hers, pressing my chest against her back as we both look over the edge of the yatch, watching the black water swell below.

“M’perfect, princess,” I whisper as I nuzzle into her neck. “Are you okay.”

“I am,” she whispers, “because of you. Thank you...”

“Thank you,” I mumble as she melts into me. “I needed you. I can't believe you did that for me.”

“I’d do anything for you,” she whispers as she turns, resting her hands against my chest, looking up at me with pleading eyes. “I know him. I know Tony probably filled your head with lies but I promise, none of it’s true.”

“I know,” I assure as I cup her cheeks in my hands, guiding her soft lips to mine. “This is almost over and from here on out it’s just you and I.”

“You and I,” she echoes. I kiss her forehead and her lips before pulling away.

“Stay here. M’serious.” She nods submissively, falling back as I move foward. I shuffle across the main deck, grabbing the rail, walking down the small flight of stairs to the carport before raising the hatch. I reach behind my back, pulling out my 9mm, opening the trunk.

There he lies, Tony Marietta. I smile as he lifts his eyes, matching mine; the bloodied knife already laying by his side. I take the gun, pressing it against his temple, tilting my head slightly to keep his eyes on me. “M’so glad you’re alive for this… I could make this fast,” I whisper. “But after all the shit you did, I’m gonna have you dyin’ nice and slow. Too bad I don't get to watch.” He goes to speak but all that comes out is a thick trail of blood. “I know what you're gonna say… Don’t worry. I’m gonna do what you couldn’t. I’m gonna take care of her. And that's a promise.” I toss my gun inside before slamming the trunk.

Moving to the front I step inside, firing up the engine before shifting it into neutral. I give the vintage ride a little push, the pull of the yacht sending the tires rolling. I follow the car as it plunges into the deep, dark waters, the depth snuffing out the headlights ‘til all that’s left is blackness.

Goodbye, Tony.

Epilogue

One year later…

Reader’s POV:

You roll up to Tanneyhill, flooding the big driveway with light after a late night shift at the Country Club. It’s mine now and business is booming; a new staff with increased security. Rafe took it upon himself to turn it from the dive it once was to a luxury experience, all for me. Of course I clean his money, the perfect front. Anything for my man. Stepping out of the car you make your way up the cobblestone walk to the front door, passing the bay window, watching as Rafe shuffles by in a black button down, resting two plates of food down on the table.

“Knock. Knock,” you sing as you open the door with a smile, matching Rafe’s beautiful blue eyes making him return the same.

“Babygirl,” he croons as he walks closer, helping you out of your jacket before, swathing his strong arms around you waist, looking down at you lovingly.

“Welcome home. Happy Anniversary,” you coo as you rise on your tippy toes, pressing a kiss on his lips. “I didn’t think you’d be home ‘til next week.”

He smiles against your lips, recalling his initial plan, the pair of you knowing there was no way he was gonna miss this day, even if it meant flying home from Morocco for one night only. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world, you know that, princess,” he mumbles against your mouth between kisses. “I got your favorite.”

Rafe takes your hand, leading you to the dining room, pulling out your chair, directing you to sit. You look across the table seeing all of your favorite things; the meal, the flowers, wine. Little candles glint in the middle of the table, adding to the ambiance as he runs you a glass of Chateau Lafite Rothschild, the first bottle of wine you shared on your very first night together.

"You look stunning," Rafe praises, lifting his glass to his lips, sipping slowly as his eyes drink you in.

"And you look very handsome, Rafe Cameron," you hum, resting your hand on the thigh of his Armani suit.

"You know baby, you’ve been working too hard. Are you free this week?” He asks, knowing the answer is ‘no’, but that’s not the reply he’ll get. If he’s asking you to go somewhere he’s already worked everything out for you.

"I’m always free for you, baby."

"Mhmm… Barry and his girl are gonna watch the club so you can come to Morocco with me. How does that sound?”

“So nice… You’re so good to me,” you sigh blissfully as you grab him by the collar of his jacket, pulling him to your lips. “Fuck, I love you.”

"Mmm… Yeah? Wanna sit on my lap and tell me how much you love me? We can see what happens next,” he chuckles warmly.

“Don’t tempt me, baby. You know I have no problem taking you right here,” you smile, the blonde smirking as he recalls what happened the morning before he left.

“You are so good to me,” he corrects you. "Y/n, I'm so happy you're mine. I hope you feel that.”

"I'm so happy I'm yours," you smile, spreading a little wider. “Of course, I feel that.”

"You deserve to have the very best, sweetheart. You deserve to be happy, and safe, and loved.” He leans in closer to you, his eyes meeting yours.

"I do… You’re perfect, Rafe.”

“I’m not, princess. But I wanna be for you,” he whispers, swallowing thickly. Your brows rumple as his mood shifts from flirty and light-hearted to serious. His eyes always look bluer when he’s on the verge of tears, yet, his smile contradicts it all. "I got you something."

"Yeah?"

“Mhmm,” he hums and nods as he reaches into his suit jacket pocket, pulling out a blue box.

"Oh my gosh! Rafe Cameron,” you gasp. “It's too much.”

"It's not, princess," he smiles softly. You reach for the box, but he keeps it in his hand, using the other to brush the tears out of his eyes.

"Rafe... Are you okay?" You whisper as you cup his cheek in your hand. He shuts his eyes, relishing in your touch, leaning into you slightly. He takes a few deep breaths before opening his eyes again.

"I’m perfect, baby.” He whispers weakly. "Umm... I'm not sure how I'm this in love with you, baby. But I am. And, at this point, I genuinely can't remember a time when I wasn't. Every night since I saw you I fall asleep with you on my mind, and I wonder if you're doing the same. I can't even comprehend losing you, or someone hurting you. I’ve said this once and I’ll say it a million times I don’t trust anyone to protect you but me and that includes your heart too. It's you, princess. It's fucking you. I can't describe it any more than that. You are the only person I want and will ever want. You make me feel safe. You make me feel loved. And since I've met you, sweetheart, you've always been that person. My girl. I can't love anyone else. And, I don't want to. So, with that being said. Y/n, will you marry me?" Rafe moves from the chair, dropping down to one knee, pulling open the box, the Tiffany engagement ring, resting in the center.

Your eyes widen, hand covering your bright, ecstatic smile. "Yes!" You squeal in delight, making Rafe let out a happy chuckle as he glides the jewelry on your finger.

"Yes?"

"Yes! Yes, Rafe! Oh my gosh. I thought it was a necklace," you gasp as you eye the ring on your finger.

"I figured, when you tried to take it from me. I got nervous," he laughs warmly, guiding you to his lips. You smile against his kiss, Rafe doing the same.

"I love you, Princess."

"I love you too, Rafe Cameron.”

Bonus smut chapter 💕

Thank you so much for reading my short story! I hoped you enjoyed it 💕🩷

Miski 🩷

tag list and masterlist on my pinned post @starkeysprincess @rafesthroatbaby @gri959 @loserboysandlithium @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @akobx @darlydixon83 @hyperfixationgirl @savayvayblr-blog @oxpogues4lifexo @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii

[mononijikayu]

“i blinked and suddenly, i had a valentine— gojo satoru.

Your heart swelled with tenderness that you’ve never felt before. And yet all at once, that unescapable touch of sadness at the thought of his departure. You couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful face. That tender face, that laughing face. Gojo Satoru was the wonder of your world. In his existence, in his every breath, his every touch, his every grin — you couldn’t help but feel like life was anything else but worth living.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: valentine by laufey

NOTE: when i listened to laufey, i wondered about satoru a lot. i think its because satoru is just very love coded, you know? he's a romantic at heart. he's gentle too. also, he definitely loves chara-bentos. genmei (you) really make the best of it. he requests digimon a lot, but you're still working on it!!! anyway, enjoy this!!! i love you~

masterlist

u s and t h e m

2008

YOU WERE EXCITED TO HAVE SOME SLEEP AFTER THIS. With a smile, you approached your apartment, juggling grocery bags in both hands. The weight of the bags felt lighter than the relief you felt after finally securing a leave from your sorcerer duties.

Gakuganji had been quite adamant about keeping you around, insisting on your presence for various missions. Yet, you were exhausted, both physically and mentally. The constant strain of back-to-back missions had left you yearning for rest and proper sleep.

When you received the news that your leave had been approved, a wave of immense relief and joy washed over you. It was as if a heavy burden had been lifted off your shoulders. The thought of having a break, a chance to breathe and recharge, filled you with happiness.

However, as you entered your apartment, the excitement was briefly tempered by the realization that your pantry and fridge were nearly empty. The thought of enjoying a peaceful day off without any food was disheartening, so you quickly decided to go out and buy some groceries.

Now, with bags filled with fresh ingredients and your favorite snacks, including the much-anticipated coffee jelly, you couldn't wait to relax and enjoy the evening. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over your own quaint neighborhood.

The sky was painted with hues of orange and pink, creating a serene backdrop as you walked towards your apartment. The gentle breeze carried the sounds of children playing in the distance and the faint hum of traffic, adding to the peaceful ambiance.

As you neared your stairs, you paused, noticing a familiar figure slumped against the railing. The sight of the usually energetic and lively Satoru Gojo looking so worn out tugged at your heart. His head was resting against the railing, and he seemed to be half-asleep. Your brows furrowed in confusion and surprise. Why was he here all of a sudden? How did he even know where you lived? You’ve always left that from records.

"Gojo–kun?" you called softly, as you patted his shoulder.  He stirred, blinking slowly, his cerulean eyes unfocused as he tried to wake up. “Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

"Hey, senpai." he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry…. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

You could only frown, realizing how tired he looks. You can only think he’s been doing a lot of missions again. You’d already told everyone, especially Yaga–sensei, that the kids should be resting still. It’s only been a few months since the failure of their mission, since Gojo Satoru’s awakening. And since then, none had listened to your advice.

From what you heard, the missions they’d been sent on lately had been solo missions and one after another, they barely had any time to themselves. You purse your lips. They shouldn’t have to do this. Not when there were others there too. You could feel guilt pulse into you, for taking a break. It’s only a few days at most. But you couldn’t help but wonder what those three days could do to these kids. They’re getting overworked. 

"You've been on too many missions lately, haven’t you?" you asked, concern evident in your voice as you looked at Satoru, who was now seated on the couch, still wearing the exhaustion from his recent endeavors.

"Yeah." he admitted with a weary sigh, his cerulean eyes meeting yours. "It's been non-stop. But passing on missions right now... I don't think that's a good idea."

You sat down beside him, feeling a mix of empathy and worry. "Why not? You need rest, Gojo–kun. Geto–kun’s been shouldering cases too, hasn't he? Surely there's someone else who can take over some of your workload."

“How come you’re formal with me again?” He pouts at you, taking you aback. “I thought I told you to just call me Satoru?”

“You’re my kouhai, and I am your senpai. There’s still degrees of respect—”

“I don’t care.” He retorts back at you, like the brat that he is. “Just call me Satoru, senpai. Please.”

It was evident in the desperation flickering in his bright blue eyes, the glasses perched slightly askew on his nose. Your own gaze, sharp and unwavering, met his own with understanding.

In the years you had known Gojo Satoru, you had sensed the weight he carried—names like Zenin and Gojo, identities tied to clans and powers, but never fully embracing him as an individual. He had yearned to be recognized for himself, as Satoru, not just as a bearer of lineage and strength.

"You're so talkative for someone who's sleepy, Satoru," you remarked with a sigh, breaking the thoughtful silence between you.

His response was a smile tinged with relief, a small spark of joy amidst weariness. "I always feel good when I'm with you, senpai," he confessed sincerely.

"Don't say it like that," you replied, feeling a rush of warmth to your cheeks at his words. You shook off the embarrassment with a playful scoff. "You're too much, aren't you?"

"Only for you, senpai!" he declared with a mischievous grin, his eyes crinkling with affection.

You shake your head at him. “Did you just come here from a mission? Where’s Geto-kun? I thought I told you to take a break?”

Satoru nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Suguru's been handling a mission by himself, again. Haibara and Nanami are already swamped with their duties. The higher-ups are stretched thin as it is. I doubt they’ll give us time to rest.”

You frowned, “They gave me time to rest.”

“I don’t think they’d go against a special–grade Zenin, senpai.” He points it out to you. “‘sides, I doubt that’s lasting long. You’re too valuable in the field.”

You sighed in resignation. “I suppose you’re right. But you can’t keep going on like this. You’re sleeping in unknown places like this. It’s unhealthy.”

He looked at you gratefully, appreciative of your concern. "I know," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "But it’s what there is. Besides, are you really going to doubt my six-eyes right now, senpai? No random bum is gonna defeat me.”

You reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Be that as it may be, I don’t think that you should be out here all by yourself.”

He watches you as you take out your keys. “You really do live here, huh?”

You turned to him. “You were just guessing?”

“Well, not really but I found you!” His grin annoyed you for a moment.

Your eyes narrow as you sighed. "Come on, let's get you inside."

He nodded, still groggy from fatigue, and followed you into your apartment. The weight of his exhaustion seemed to lift slightly as he stepped across the threshold. Satoru's bright blue eyes scanned the cozy interior, taking in every detail.

The living room welcomed him with its warm ambiance—soft, inviting cushions adorned the couch, bathed in the gentle glow of warm lighting. The faint scent of fresh flowers lingered in the air, adding a touch of tranquility to the space.

It felt like a sanctuary, a stark contrast to the sterile and regimented environment of the Jujutsu High dorms where practicality often overshadowed comfort. Here, in your apartment, there was a sense of homeliness that resonated deeply with Satoru.

The walls, adorned with personal touches and memories, spoke of a life lived beyond the battlefield of sorcery. Pictures upon pictures of you and two young women. He could only surmise that it was your friends from Kyoto Jujutsu High. It added a nice touch. But he always gets curious about it all. Still, he doesn't want to put you on the spot.

As he took in the aroma of vanilla essence, he could feel at ease. There was no need for Infinity in this proximity. He was with you. And when he's with you, he's free to be him. He's free to be Satoru. And with you, in this place, he could pretend and set aside the weight of his responsibilities of the strongest far away.

Satoru paused for a moment, taking it all in with a mix of gratitude and relief. He turned to you, a soft smile playing on his lips despite the weariness etched into his features. "Thanks for letting me crash here, senpai." he said, his voice tinged with genuine appreciation.

You returned his smile, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "You're welcome. But next time, please call. I thought were dead, laying outside like that."

"But surprises are way more fun, don't you think?"

You sighed. "It's not fun for me, Satoru. I was going to enjoy my coffee jelly in my peace."

“You really have a nice place.” He says as he starts moving around the pillows to the side. “I really didn’t think that this sketchy place had anything to offer.

“I know the owner, she gave me a discount.”

He looks at you with a raised brow. “Why does a Zenin like you with so much money want a discount?”

“None of your business,” you retorted, setting the grocery bags down on the counter with a soft thud. As you walked over to where Satoru lay sprawled out on the couch, you couldn't help but observe him for a moment, taking in the weariness etched into his features.

“How did you really find my place?” you asked, curiosity tinging your voice.

Satoru gave you a lazy grin, his bright blue eyes twinkling mischievously. “The Six Eyes,” he replied simply, as if it explained everything.

You sighed, shaking your head in mock exasperation. “You’re so...”

“Charming?” he interjected, his grin widening.

“Infuriating,” you finished, though there was a hint of fondness in your tone.

You leaned closer, studying his expression. “Do you have a headache?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.

He nodded, his weariness becoming more pronounced. “A little.”

“And by a little, you mean a lot, hm?” you teased gently, knowing well the toll his abilities could take on him.

“It’s not easy trying to narrow down one area, figuring that area out with just your smell in the whole of Nakagyō-ku, you know!” he protested, half-serious, half-playful.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “That sounds like something a stalker would say.”

“Huh!? I’m not a stalker!” Satoru exclaimed, feigning offense.

“Also something a stalker would say,” you teased, unable to resist.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, I plead guilty to having heightened senses,” he admitted with a playful glint in his eye.

You chuckled, shaking your head affectionately. “You're incorrigible, Satoru.”

“Only for you, senpai,” he replied with a wink, his playful demeanor melting into a genuine smile. 

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “Are you hungry? I was just about to prepare dinner.”

“Ah, that would be great, senpai! I’m starving, y’know?” Satoru replied eagerly, sitting up a bit more on the couch, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten in anticipation of a meal.

You chuckled softly at his enthusiasm. “Alright then, let’s get you fed,” you said warmly, turning towards the kitchen with a sense of purpose.

As you began to gather ingredients and pots, the comforting routine of cooking helped ease the tension that often lingered from Satoru’s exhausting missions. You moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, preparing a meal that you knew would both satisfy his hunger and lift his spirits. The rhythmic sounds of chopping vegetables and sizzling in the pan filled the air, creating a soothing background to your conversation.

“So, any exciting stories from your latest mission?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at Satoru as you worked.

He leaned back on the couch, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “Oh, you know, the usual—exorcizing curses, saving innocents, the usual hero stuff,” he replied with a hint of amusement in his voice. But then he falters for a moment. “Though, the paper work is going to be a pain!”

You chuckled softly. “You make the physical work so easy.” you remarked, turning back to stir the simmering sauce.

“Well, it’s not always a walk in the park at all.” he admitted with a soft sigh. “But…. knowing someone who can be kind to me about it is with me….about everything. It’s good.”

You grinned. “Didn’t take you to be so emotional about that, Satoru.”

He pouts deeply. “Only you can see it like this, senpai.”

You smiled to yourself, grateful that you could provide him with this small comfort. As the aroma of the cooking food filled the kitchen, you felt a sense of contentment settle over you both—a moment of peace amidst the chaos of their lives as sorcerers.

As you moved around the kitchen, preparing dinner with practiced ease, Satoru couldn't help but watch you with a soft smile playing on his lips. The way you effortlessly navigated the space, your movements graceful and purposeful, captivated him. Each chop of the vegetables, each stir of the simmering pot, seemed like a dance orchestrated by someone who knew the kitchen intimately.

The comforting aroma of food slowly filled the air, mingling with the soft evening light filtering through the windows. Satoru leaned back on the couch, his gaze fixed on you with a warmth that bloomed in his chest. It wasn't just the meal you were preparing—it was the care and thoughtfulness behind it that touched him deeply.

In that moment, amidst the clinking of utensils and the gentle hum of the stove, Satoru realized how fond he had become of you. It wasn't just your strength as a sorcerer or your wisdom as a senpai that drew him in—it was the way you effortlessly made a house into a home, a sanctuary where he could find solace and peace.

"You know," he began, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity, "I think you're spoiling me, senpai."

You turned towards him, a playful glint in your eye as you stirred the pot. "Oh, am I?" you teased gently, your smile warm and inviting.

Satoru chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Maybe a little," he admitted, his gaze lingering on you with unabashed admiration.

As you placed the dishes on the table, the spread before him elicited a delighted grin from Satoru. "This looks amazing, senpai," he praised, his eyes lighting up with genuine appreciation.

You sat down across from him, sharing the meal together in comfortable silence, punctuated by occasional laughter and shared stories. The simple act of enjoying a home-cooked meal with you felt like a cherished moment, a testament to the bond that had grown between you.

And as the evening unfolded, wrapped in the warmth of good food and even better company, Gojo Satoru knew one thing for certain—he was incredibly lucky to have found not just a senpai, but someone who had captured his heart in ways he never expected.

Valentine's Day, 2008, he thought. 

This is when it all started for him and you.

History can only get better with time.

2011

YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. A year had passed since you married Satoru, and each day felt like a precious gift wrapped in tender moments and quiet smiles. It was something you never imagined for yourself, when you lived in Zenin manor. You never saw a future beyond what you were forced to have then. But here you are, with him, free and content. And it meant the world to you.

He never asked for much from you, always mindful not to overwhelm you with his larger-than-life presence. From the moment he slipped the ring onto your finger, he made it his mission to take care of you, to save you in ways big and small.

Satoru was a good husband—attentive, kind, and always putting your needs first. In the mornings, he would tiptoe around the apartment, making sure not to wake you as he prepared breakfast.

You often woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sight of a beautifully set table, complete with a little note from Satoru that read, "Good morning, wife. Have a great day!"

He found joy in the smallest things, like holding your hand during walks in the park or surprising you with your favorite flowers just because he felt like it. He had an uncanny ability to make you laugh, whether through his goofy antics or his playful teasing. And every night, without fail, he would wrap his arms around you, whispering sweet nothings as you drifted off to sleep.

Satoru's love was a constant, steady presence, like a warm blanket on a cold night. He was always there, ready to catch you when you stumbled, to listen when you needed to talk, and to simply be there when words weren't necessary. His blue eyes, usually so sharp and intense, softened whenever he looked at you, filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter.

Despite his strength and the immense responsibilities he carried as a sorcerer, Satoru never let it overshadow the gentle, caring man he was with you. He made you feel safe, cherished, and above all, loved. In these walls that build your home, you never once felt out of place. You just instantly felt it. You felt like you belonged here. You felt like you had a place in this world, a purpose to live — because of him.

You don’t know if you were in love with him or if you feel like a wife should feel for one’s husband. But you knew you cared deeply for him. You knew that you wanted only the best for him.

And you want to be able to give it to him. You wanted to do everything in your power to see him smile, to protect his smile. You wanted to make Gojo Satoru feel like he has somewhere he can feel warmth in his humanity.

As your first Valentine's day approached, you found yourself wanting to show him just how much he meant to you. You wanted to thank him for all the ways he cared for you, for the endless patience and unwavering support he offered to you. So in that morning, you woke up early, determined to see him off on his mission. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow through the curtains.

Satoru was already getting ready, moving quietly around the bedroom. His movements were graceful, almost silent, as he slipped into his uniform. He glanced at you with surprise when he saw you awake, propped up on one elbow, watching him with sleepy eyes.

"What are you doing up so early?" he asked, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "You should go back to bed."

You shook your head, blushing slightly as you held out a carefully packed lunch bag. The pink bento box was wrapped neatly in a patterned cloth, a small handwritten note peeking out from underneath. Satoru’s vibrant blue stared at what you were holding, blinking – as though he could not believe what you were holding. 

He knows what it is, it's clear to see. It’s like then, in those high–school dramas, where the woman would make the person she cared deeply for a bento, with those cute character designs. Silently, he hoped that it was a digimon–chara bento. He hoped it was Metalgreymon or maybe Skullgreymon. 

"I wanted to see you off…." you said softly, your cheeks tinged with pink. “Is that….is that not what you want?”

“N–no, that’s not it.” He responds almost immediately, rubbing the back of his head. He looked shy by what you said, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “It’s just… I didn’t expect you’d be up this early, least of all for me. And doing this bento for me…”

“I–I wanted to!” You tell him, the blush on your face extending to your ears. “I… I don’t know how long you’ll be gone, but I… I wanted to show my appreciation… It’s Valentine's Day, you see…”

Satoru's eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and gratitude as he looked at the lunch bag from your hands. His long fingers brushed against yours, sending a warm shiver up your spine.

"You made this for me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to break the delicate moment.

You nodded, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "Yes. I wanted to make sure you had something good to eat. You work so hard, Satoru. You deserve it."

Satoru’s eyes softened as he took in your words, his heart swelling with affection. He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your flushed cheeks.

“You’re too good to me, y’know?” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “Thank you. This means more to me than you know.”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his own in a tender gaze. “You work so hard, Satoru. And all at once, you do well in taking care of me too… I just want to make sure you’re taken care of, even when you’re out there.”

He pulled you into another hug, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. “You take care of me in ways I can’t even begin to explain. I should be the one thanking you, darling,” he murmured against your hair. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

He smiled, his eyes shining with a love so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “You flatter me.”

“It’s not just empty flattery… it’s from the heart, y’know?”

“I do know.” You smiled gently at him.

“I promise to come back to you as soon as I can, darling.” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “And when I do, we'll celebrate properly.”

Your heart swelled with tenderness that you’ve never felt before. And yet all at once, that unescapable touch of sadness at the thought of his departure. You couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful face. That tender face, that laughing face. Gojo Satoru was the wonder of your world. In his existence, in his every breath, his every touch, his every grin — you couldn’t help but feel like life was anything else but worth living.

You leaned up and kissed his cheek softly, pouring all your emotions into that single gesture. You didn’t know what compelled you to do that. But at that moment, it felt appropriate.

It felt like something that you wanted to give him. It was at that moment, an earned gift. After all he had done for you, it was a thankful gentleness. You tried to be as tender as the wind when it brushed against his own cheek.

Satoru froze, stunned at what just happened. He looked at you, unmoving. In that moment, self-awareness brushed through you, and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"I–I’m sorry," you stammered, stepping back slightly. "I didn’t mean to—"

He cut you off by pulling you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you securely. "Don’t apologize," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "That was... perfect."

You felt his warmth envelop you, and you relaxed into his hold, your heart racing. "I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me," you admitted softly, your voice barely audible.

Satoru pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. "You have no idea how much that means to me, darling." he said, his gaze intense and filled with affection. "You always know how to make me feel special."

Your blush deepened, but you smiled up at him, feeling a surge of love and gratitude. "You deserve it, Satoru. You deserve all the love and appreciation in the world."

“So do you.” He says, his face scarlet as he smiles at you. “You always will, darling.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise, Satoru.” you whispered against his ear. “Be safe for me, hm?”

Satoru maneuvered his face, his forehead resting against yours. “Take care of yourself while I’m gone, okay?” he said, his voice full of tender affection. “I’ll be counting down the moments until I’m back in your arms.”

You nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. “I’ll be waiting for you. Like I always am.”

With one last lingering look, Your husband took the bento from your arms and smiled. You returned it just as brightly. He turned to leave, but he stopped. Your husband lets himself glance back at you with a look that speaks volumes. No one else would have him like this. Only you. He would never let anyone else have this moment. 

As he walked out the door, you could only think about looking forward to seeing him come home. Looking forward to having him in your arms, to enjoy a meal together, to laugh together. 

You returned to your shared bedroom and smiled as you saw the lilac paper laying on the lamp table. You take the paper in hand and clutched it close to your heart. You take a moment before you read the words again. 

"Think of me while I’m gone.”

You sighed, smiling to yourself once more.

You had some things to think over this weekend.

2015

HE COULDN'T DESCRIBE HIS LOVE FOR YOU. It has only been two months since you gave Gojo Satoru the best gift in the world: your little boy, Gojo Satoshi. The cute little boy who looked ever so beautiful, identical to his father, was his beloved, as much as you. And he could not get enough of him. The love that filled his heart seemed to expand with every smile, every coo, and every moment spent with his precious family.

The days had been tiring, filled with the demands of taking care of a newborn, the other children, and maintaining the household while Satoru was away on missions. Despite the exhaustion, you cherished every moment with your family. There was a quiet joy in the simple, everyday moments – the soft giggles of Satoshi, the curious questions from Megumi, and the boundless energy of Tsumiki.

Satoru, on the other hand, felt a profound sense of gratitude and responsibility. Nothing, he thought, would ever be enough to truly repay your love, affection, and the sacrifices you made for him. He was determined to be the best husband and father he could be, to ensure that you felt cherished and supported.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you found yourself sitting in the nursery, gently rocking Satoshi in your arms. His tiny fingers clutched at your shirt, his eyes heavy with sleep. You hummed a lullaby softly, feeling a profound sense of peace despite the weariness tugging at your bones.

The door creaked open, and Satoru stepped in, his presence immediately bringing a warmth to the room. He had returned from yet another mission, looking both relieved and concerned. His eyes softened as they landed on you and Satoshi.

"How are my favorite people doing?" he asked quietly, moving to sit beside you.

"Better now that you're home," you replied, offering him a tired but genuine smile.

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You look exhausted, darling. Have you been getting any rest?"

You sighed, shaking your head slightly. "It's been a bit chaotic, but it's worth it."

Satoru leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "You do so much for us. I wish I could be here more to help."

"You’re here now, and that’s what matters, my love." you said softly, your heart swelling with love for the man who always put his family first.

Suddenly, Satoshi stirred in your arms, letting out a small cry. You started to get up, but Satoru placed a hand on your shoulder. "I’ve got him, don’t get up." he said, taking the baby from your arms with practiced ease.

“You sure? You’re tired too, my love.”

"One hundred percent. Now, go back to sleep." he whispered, his voice tender and soothing. "I'll take care of him."

You nodded, too tired to protest, and watched as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. His touch was warm and reassuring. It always was something so wondrous, when he touches you.

He was ever so gentle, but firm to express its reality. Each and every touch, it was that repetitive, silent promise that he would always be there for you. And you were so happy, so lucky — to have that. You closed your eyes slowly, smiling against the sheets. 

Satoru left the room quietly, making his way to Satoshi's room. He sat down on the rocking chair and tenderly took him to be cradled in the bounty of loving arms. He started humming little tunes that Satoshi had loved. Recently, he loved the melody of Hey Jude.

Satoru loved playing that song on your record player. But he thinks that there was no need for the record player. The smile creeping through your son’s lips was enough to tell Satoru that there was no need. His father’s humming was better.

As he rocked Satoshi back to sleep, Satoru’s thoughts were filled with a profound sense of purpose and love. He wanted to be a good father, a good husband. He wanted to create a world where you and the children felt loved and safe.

Satoru gazed down at Satoshi, the baby’s delicate features illuminated by the soft glow of the nursery lamp. The tiny rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the way his fingers occasionally twitches in his sleep—it all filled Satoru with a deep, unwavering resolve.

“I’ll do everything I can to protect you, little dawn.” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “To protect all of you, your papa will do anything and everything.”

His mind wandered to the future, to the life he wanted to build for his family. He envisioned laughter filling the rooms of your home, the sound of Satoshi’s giggles blending with the playful banter of Megumi and Tsumiki. He imagined quiet, peaceful moments where he could simply hold you close, knowing that you were safe and content.

“My little dawn, you were such a gift. You always will be.” Satoru smiles tenderly. “You will always be the proof of mama and papa’s love. And we’ll love you forever. Big sister ‘miki' and big brother ‘gumi will all love you a lot too, hm? Always know that, little dawn.”

In that moment, as Satoshi's cries turned to soft murmurs and then silence, Satoru felt a deep sense of contentment. He looked back towards the bedroom where you slept.

Satoru knew that he would do everything in his power to make sure you never had to carry the weight of the world alone. Satoru looked down at his son, who was now gazing up at him with wide, curious eyes. He couldn't help but smile as he gently rocked Satoshi in his arms.

"What should I do to thank your mom for being everything in my life?" he asked softly, his voice Filled with affection, Satoru gazed down at Satoshi, cradling his tiny body against his chest. “It’s going to be Valentine’s Day soon, little dawn. What do you think Papa should do for Mama?”

Satoshi let out a cute, nonsensical babble, his tiny hands reaching up towards Satoru's face. His fingers brushed against Satoru’s cheek, and he responded with a soft chuckle, pressing a gentle kiss to his son's forehead.

"You’re right," Satoru said, as if Satoshi had given the most profound advice. "I should take care of her just like she takes care of us."

Satoshi gurgled in response, his big eyes sparkling with curiosity and innocence. Satoru’s heart swelled with love for his little boy and for you, the woman who had given him such a precious gift. Satoru wonders what he had done to be this happy. To have such wonder in his life, to be able to love and live. He sighed in contentment. 

Gently swaying with Satoshi in his arms, Satoru began to plan a special Valentine’s Day. He thought about all the little things you loved—flowers, quiet moments of affection, and simple gestures that spoke volumes. He wanted to create a day that would remind you of how cherished you were, not just as his partner, but as the heart of their family.

Later, as he tucked Satoshi back into his crib, he whispered, “We’ll make it a day she’ll never forget, won’t we, little dawn?”

Once Satoshi fell back asleep, Satoru carefully placed him back in his crib. With quiet determination, he set about cleaning the house and doing the laundry. He wanted you to wake up to a peaceful, tidy home, a small gesture to show his appreciation for all you did.

As the morning light filtered through the windows, he moved to the kitchen and started breakfast for Megumi and Tsumiki, who were already beginning to stir. The smell of pancakes and eggs soon filled the air, and he could hear the kids shuffling down the hallway.

Megumi entered the kitchen first, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. "Morning, Gojo-sensei," he mumbled sleepily.

Satoru chuckled, flipping a pancake with practiced ease. "Morning, Megumi. Did you sleep well?"

Megumi nodded, glancing over at the table set with plates and utensils. "Yeah. This looks good."

Tsumiki followed closely, her face lighting up at the sight of breakfast. "Wow, Satoru-san, this looks amazing!" She hopped up onto a chair, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Good morning, ‘miki!" Satoru greeted warmly, a smile brightening his face as Tsumiki bounded into the kitchen. "I thought we'd have a nice family breakfast today."

Tsumiki's eyes widened with delight, her cheeks flushed with happiness. "Ah, that’s so lovely, Satoru-san! Thank you so much for your hard work!" She hopped up onto a chair, her excitement palpable.

Megumi, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, glanced at his plate and then at Satoru. "Thank you….I guess." he mumbled, his voice slightly muffled.

Satoru chuckled, pouring some syrup over his pancakes. "You're welcome, Megumi. Now go on. Eat!" He gestured with a playful nudge, encouraging them both to tuck into the breakfast he had prepared.

As they ate, Satoru glanced between them with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "So, what do you two have planned for Valentine's Day?" he asked, genuinely curious about their intentions for the day dedicated to love and affection.

Megumi blushed slightly, looking down at his plate. "I... I wrote a card for Gen-san," he admitted shyly. “And….maybe…”

Satoru raised a brow. “Maybe what?”

“....a hug.”

“A hug?” Satoru starts to grin. “Well, you know that bear hugs are encouraged. I really think it would be a fantastic Valentine’s day gift!”

Tsumiki beamed, "Me too! I worked really hard on my card too. And the paper flowers that I made! I can't wait for Gen–san to see it!"

Satoru's heart swelled with pride. "Gen is going to love them, both of you. You know how much Gen appreciates the things you do."

As he finished breakfast with the kids, Satoru felt a swell of pride and love for his family. Sitting around the table together, sharing smiles and conversation, filled him with a deep sense of fulfillment.

Megumi and Tsumiki were growing up so fast, each with their own quirks and personalities, yet united in their affection for you, the person they saw as their mother. They made him proud every day, not just with their accomplishments, but with the way they cared for and appreciated you.

Watching them interact, seeing how they expressed their love for you in their own unique ways, warmed Satoru's heart. Megumi's quiet thoughtfulness and Tsumiki's bubbly enthusiasm were reflections of the love and happiness you nurtured in their lives. It was a joy to witness how they cherished you, and he couldn't help but feel blessed to have such a loving family.

They were his world, and he was determined to make sure they knew it every single day. The love and warmth in their home were palpable, a testament to the bond they shared.

Satoru knew, without a doubt, that this was what mattered most—being together, supporting each other, and creating moments of happiness and love. It was all you deserved, and that realization made Satoru's heart swell with gratitude and affection for the family he cherished beyond measure.

You woke up to the sun streaming brightly through the windows, a gentle warmth filling the room. Surprised by how rested you felt, you stretched leisurely in bed before deciding to start your day. As you made your way through your home, a sense of calm settled over you, a stark contrast to the usual morning rush.

Entering the kitchen, you were met with a heartwarming scene that made your heart swell with love. Satoru stood at the sink, a baby strap securely fastened around him, gently swaying to a soft melody as he sang to Satoshi. The little bundle of joy in his arms giggled happily, tiny hands reaching out to playfully grab at Satoru's nose. It was a sight that melted away any lingering stress or fatigue from the day before.

Satoru glanced over his shoulder as he noticed you, a warm smile spreading across his face. He carefully set aside the dish he had been cleaning and moved to greet you, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Good morning," he whispered softly, his voice filled with the tenderness reserved for moments like these.

You couldn't help but smile back, your heart swelling with love for the man who always managed to surprise you with his thoughtfulness. "Good morning," you replied, your voice laced with a mixture of awe and gratitude. "You've already done so much."

"I wanted to make sure you woke up to a peaceful morning," Satoru said, his gaze never leaving yours. "And now that you're here, we can enjoy it together."

You moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat was steady and comforting, a reminder of the love that bound your family together.

"Thank you, ’toru." you murmured softly, your words carrying the weight of all the love and appreciation you felt.

Satoru pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his embrace tightening ever so slightly. "I love you, darling." he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.

"I love you too, my love." you replied, your heart overflowing with happiness as you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, grateful for the peaceful moments that made life so beautiful. “So much. You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "I want to. You deserve to have a break and enjoy today, darling. You deserve it."

You leaned in and kissed him again, feeling a rush of warmth and love. "I don't deserve you. You’re so good to me, my love." you murmured against his lips.

Satoru chuckled, his arms wrapping around you. "It's me who doesn't deserve you, darling." he said softly, his forehead resting against yours. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

"Happy Valentine's Day." you whispered, your heart beating for him just as strongly as it did on the day you first fell in love.

You wish that all the years would be like this too.

You wish that you could just be this happy everyday.

And you know, Satoru wishes the same thing too.

2018

YOU COULD ONLY SIGH. It had been two months since Suguru's passing, and the grief weighed heavily on Satoru's shoulders. The loss of his friend and colleague, coupled with the memories of the events that led to Suguru's death, haunted him deeply. In an attempt to cope, Satoru abandoned his iconic Ryomen Sukuna bandages, which once symbolized his strength and resolve. Now, they served as a painful reminder of the sacrifices and difficult choices he had made.

Instead, he turned to light-sensitive dark glasses, a practical solution that shielded his sensitive eyes from the harshness of light. You observed him with a mix of compassion and concern, knowing how much he had endured. The headaches that came with his new eyewear only added to his burden, and you were determined to find ways to alleviate his discomfort.

Each day, you saw him struggle, his once vibrant energy tempered by moments of pain and fatigue. It pained you deeply to witness his suffering, knowing there was little you could do to ease the emotional weight he carried. Yet, your presence and unwavering support offered him a steady anchor in turbulent times.

One day, you decided to visit Shoko with Satoshi in tow. The atmosphere in Shoko's office was calming, the shelves lined with medical journals and the faint scent of antiseptic in the air. Satoshi, ever curious and energetic, was happily occupied with the marbles Shoko had graciously given him, rolling them around on the floor with childlike delight.

While Satoshi played, you took a moment to discuss Satoru's condition with Shoko. Sitting across from her, you felt a wave of relief knowing you could confide in someone who understood the complexities of sorcerer life and its toll on those like Satoru. Shoko, with her gentle demeanor and sharp intellect, listened attentively as you described Satoru's struggles since Suguru's passing.

"He's been finding it difficult to wear the Ryomen bandages," you explained softly, glancing over at Satoshi, who was absorbed in arranging the marbles into a pattern. "They remind him too much of what he had to do. So, he's been using the light-sensitive dark glasses instead."

Shoko nodded understandingly, her expression thoughtful. "It's not uncommon for Satoru’s six–eyes to develop sensitivities after intense situations, missions.” she mused, her brown eyes flickering with concern. "The emotional and physical strain can manifest in various ways. And right now, it’s truly emotional. I think you just have to be patient with him.”

You sighed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you shared your worries with Shoko. "I know….but it hurts to see him suffer like this, Sho. The headaches have been growing more frequent." you admitted, your voice tinged with concern. "I'm worried about how much it's affecting him."

Shoko offered a reassuring smile."I know. But right now, you can give him some space. He’ll come around to it and realize that he needs to give himself something to stop the headaches.”

You pondered for a moment, your lips pursed in contemplation. "Do you think... there's some material that could help with his Six Eyes? Something that might alleviate the strain?" you asked Shoko, your voice carrying a mix of hope and uncertainty.

Shoko considered your question thoughtfully, her expression thoughtful as she leaned back in her chair. "It's possible," she began slowly, her gaze thoughtful. "We could explore materials that are less abrasive on his sensory abilities. Perhaps something with a softer weave or a special enchantment that filters out excessive stimuli."

Encouraged by Shoko's supportive words, you felt a renewed sense of determination. Her acknowledgment of your care for Satoru reassured you that your efforts were worthwhile.

"Thank you, Shoko," you said sincerely, feeling a sense of gratitude for her understanding and encouragement. "I'll do my best to make something that will really help him."

Shoko nodded with a reassuring smile. "Take your time, and don't hesitate to reach out if you need any assistance. I'm here to help in any way I can."

With a grateful nod, you bid farewell to Shoko and headed home, your mind already racing with ideas and plans. As you walked, Satoshi's cheerful babbling filled the air, a constant source of joy and motivation. You smiled warmly, his innocent excitement lifting your spirits even higher.

Suddenly, Satoshi stopped and pointed excitedly to a shop window. "Mama, here!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with enthusiasm as he tugged at your hand. You chuckled at his excitement, bending down to his level to see what had caught his attention.

You peered into the shop window and saw a display of colorful fabrics and various sewing supplies. Some of the fabrics were vibrant and eye-catching, while others were soft and gentle to the touch. Satoshi's small hand pointed to a bright blue fabric with tiny stars scattered across it, his excitement palpable.

"Good eye, Satoshi!" you praised him, ruffling his hair affectionately. "That's a beautiful fabric."

He grinned up at you, his excitement undiminished. "Papa will like it!"

"Yes, I think he will." you agreed with a smile, feeling a surge of determination to create something special for Satoru using the fabric Satoshi had chosen. “Good job, Satoshi!”

He grinned. “Satoshi–kun, the best!”

You looked at your son, his excitement contagious, and smiled. "You're so smart," you said, giving him a gentle pat on the head.

Flash forward to Valentine's Day. Satoru had made it a tradition to take the day off so that the two of you could celebrate together, and this year was no exception. As you stirred awake in the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, you found Satoru in the kitchen, quietly preparing breakfast. His light-sensitive dark glasses were perched on his nose, a testament to the ongoing struggle with his heightened senses.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of pancakes and strawberries, filling the air with a comforting warmth. Satoru turned to greet you with a soft smile as you entered the kitchen, his eyes tender as they met yours. Despite the exhaustion and challenges you both faced, his love and dedication never faltered.

"Good morning, darling," he murmured, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I thought we could start the day with a special breakfast."

You couldn't help but smile back, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Satoru," you replied, your voice filled with love and gratitude. "It smells amazing."

As you sat down together at the table, the morning sun bathed the room in a golden glow, casting a warm hue over the cozy kitchen. The soft sounds of birds chirping outside added to the tranquil atmosphere, contrasting with the usual hustle and bustle of the day.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the tantalizing scent of pancakes filled the air, creating a comforting backdrop for your conversation. Everything about today was going to be good. You just know it. It always was, when you're with Satoru.

As you sipped your coffee, the warmth spreading through you, you began discussing your plans for Valentine's Day. Satoru listened attentively, his dark glasses reflecting the soft light from the window as he nodded in response to your suggestion.

"I was thinking," you started, setting your mug down gently on the table, "we should go to the zoo with Satoshi and Megumi, and then visit Tsumiki in the hospital."

Satoru considered your proposal, his expression thoughtful yet warm. "That sounds doable," he agreed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "And then dinner together later?"

You nodded, returning his smile. "Yes, dinner together sounds perfect," you replied softly. "It'll be a wonderful day."

He grinned warmly at your remark about the plan for the day. The anticipation of spending time together as a family and celebrating the occasion filled the room with an air of excitement and joy.

"That sounds like a grand plan," Satoru said with enthusiasm, his eyes sparkling behind his dark glasses.

You returned his grin, feeling a warmth spreading through your heart. "Speaking of something grand," you began, your voice filled with affection, "I also have a gift for you."

His curiosity piqued, Satoru raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "You didn't have to get me anything," he insisted gently.

"I wanted to," you replied softly, handing him a neatly wrapped box. "Open it."

Carefully, Satoru unwrapped the gift, his fingers moving deliberately over the wrapping paper. As he lifted the lid of the box, his eyes widened in genuine surprise and admiration. Inside lay an exquisitely crafted eye blindfold, made with intricate care and attention to detail.

"Satoru, I sewed it!" you explained, a hint of nervousness in your voice. "But Satoshi helped pick out the fabric, and Megumi tested it out. It's been blessed at the Mikoto Shrine by me. It's a family affair!"

He was speechless for a moment, his gaze fixed on the blindfold in his hands. The craftsmanship and thoughtfulness behind the gift touched him deeply. Slowly, he looked up at you, his cerulean eyes softening with deep emotion.

"You made this?" he asked, his voice filled with awe and gratitude.

You nodded, a shy smile playing on your lips as you looked up at him. "I wanted you to have something special," you admitted softly, your heart fluttering with warmth at his reaction.

"Besides, I know it's hard to use the bandages now. And I just... I want you to have something that drives away the pain and helps you with your headaches."

Satoru set the blindfold down gently, his expression softening as he pulled you into a tender embrace. His arms wrapped around you securely. He doesn't want to ever let you go. Not in his entire life.

"Thank you, darling." he murmured against your hair, his voice filled with heartfelt gratitude. "You always know how to make me feel special."

You leaned into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours. "You don’t have to thank me." you whispered, your voice tinged with emotion. "I love you. More than anything."

"I love you too, darling." Satoru replied softly, his words a gentle caress against your ear. His embrace tightened, as if he never wanted to let you go. “Always.”

You leaned into his embrace, your heart swelling with love for the man who meant everything to you. "Happy Valentine's Day, Satoru." you whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

His embrace tightened briefly, a silent reassurance of his love and gratitude. "Happy Valentine's Day, my darling." he replied softly, his voice tinged with affection. "I love you more than words can express."

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your home and the love that filled the air, you knew that this Valentine's Day would be one to remember—a day where your love for each other blossomed even brighter.

You looked forward to next year’s Valentine’s day.

You wanted to have the same joy and happiness.

You prayed that you and Satoru would have that.

epilogue

The day at the zoo was perfect. You, Satoru, and Satoshi wandered through the exhibits, enjoying the beautiful weather and the excitement in Satoshi's eyes as he marveled at the animals. Satoru wore the blindfold you had made for him, and you couldn't help but think how good he looked in it. The fabric was soft and stylish, and it seemed to suit him perfectly.

As you approached the ocean exhibit, you spotted Megumi making his way towards you. He had stayed at the dorms for his lessons but had managed to follow and catch up with you. You waved at him enthusiastically.

"Megumi!" you called out, hurrying over to him.

Megumi smiled shyly and allowed you to hug him. Then he bent down to scoop up Satoshi, who squealed with delight at the sight of his older brother. "Nii-chan!"

When Megumi finally set Satoshi down, he looked up and saw Satoru standing there with open arms, a playful grin on his face. "Megumi-yannnn, aren't you going to give me a hug too?"

Megumi's cheeks turned a light shade of pink, and he tried to hide in his oversized uniform. He started laughing, his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. "Huh!? Megumi, what's so funny?" Satoru asked, pretending to be offended.

Megumi shook his head, still chuckling, as he took a step back. "Nothing, nothing," he said, trying to stifle his laughter.

Satoru pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine, be that way," he said, but his eyes were twinkling with mischief.

You watched the exchange with a warm smile, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Your family, despite all the challenges and hardships, had found moments of joy and connection. And in those moments, you knew that everything was going to be okay. As long as you were together, it always will be.

[whorediaries-09]

shameless;

pairing- rockstar!sirius black x reader warning(s)- substances, 18+ content, hurt/comfort. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- absolutely hate this one ❗

masterlist of 'the seven lives;' series

the slut club

now that you have me, do you want me still?

your throat was raw from shouting the lyrics of the songs you’d penned on a drunk night. but as the line between pretence and reality ended, his kisses became history, hidden behind cigarettes or the occasional puff of weed that painted your skin backstage. his fingers wrapped around your throat, you turned putty into his hold, craving him carnally. the weariness engulfed both of your bodies; the feelings consumed the both of you. his touch was like electricity shooting through every inch of your body as he delicately stripped away every piece of clothing on your skin that restricted him to touch your skin. it always began like this, in the cold echo substances and weariness.

his hands wrapped around your throat, pushing his tongue deeper into your mouth as he ravaged you. he swallowed your moans and whimpers, wrapping your legs around his waist. the beads on his jeans which resembled a star poked the skin of your bare thighs. his fingers dug into your waist as he cradled you, pushing you against the cold metal of your vanity trailer. your fingers numb and shaky, the buttons on his sheer black vest popped open. his lips attached onto your neck, his sharp canine finding home onto the warmth of the blood that ran through your veins.

the pants fell on the floor, the metal of his ridiculous thick belt falling with a muffled clank on the soft carpet. his fingers gathered your arousal against his rough padded fingers, causing a soft moan from your lips. he pushed his fingers into your mouth, letting your taste melt into your taste buds.

‘you’re so pretty stargirl, with my fingers down your throat like that,’ he gasped, pushing himself into you. you pulled him closer at the nickname, as he slowly thrusted into you.

*-

you hated it. you hated the fact that even though it was supposed to be just a public stunt, to prevent his fangirls or groupies, to jump on his bones every time he took a step outside. you hated the fact the public stunt continued into the haze of privacy, leaving you breathless with lip bruising kisses and marks on your neck you had to feed the paparazzi. you hated the fact your heart echoed into deep faltering emotions every second when he was with you, every time he kissed you, every time he felt you. you hated the fact that you were nothing but a pawn in the game for his security.

you had to step out to buy groceries in his jacket. again, a ploy, for flashes or clicks of cameras. it was as if you could feel his hands on your body. the leather jacket around your body smelled like worn leather and parchment, infused with the scent of his musk cologne and cigarettes. you could hear the nicknames that elicited out his throat as he rammed into you, pinning you down to the hard mattress in your trailer. and even though you were drunk, high and hot, the image of his melting eye makeup and his touches melted into you.

sure enough, it ended up on a celeb gossip instagram page. it wasn’t a rumour, it was true- an eye candy for people to feed on. the self-made artist dating a nepo baby who ran away from the clutches of his abusive parents. a classic cliched move that worked every time.

curious, you scrolled through the comments. while most of them were positive, beaming or gushing about the relationship, and how the playboy rockstar had finally settled down for somebody who’d control him, some were…rather rude. none of them about sirius, but you. calling you unimaginable slurs, pathetic inhumane words. it was disgusting, how they narrowed you down to someone based on who you dated, and not your talent. when he was the one with successful parents in the industry, the one who had his name signed with any record in the book even before he was born.

it was vile, cruel, and pathetic. walking into the room of your hotel. you threw the packet of groceries on the floor. you could feel a lump form in your throat, tears threatening to spill from your waterline. a few fruits rolled on the cold ceramic, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. your heart thumped against your ribcage.

a seemingly indistinguishable heat spread in your chest as you broke down, sliding down on the cold wall. you clutched your knees to your chest, resting your head on them as you cried, letting out the fury and melancholy.

did it matter to him? the name calling, the slurs you got called by random people on the internet who didn’t know how much hard work you put into your career? did he care? or were you truly just a pawn in the game?

*-

sirius could feel it. that something was wrong. he could feel it when you shuddered under his touch. he could feel it when you skin was unusually cold under his lips. he could feel it when your heart thumped irregularly fast as his touch wandered over your waist. he knew something was wrong.

but you had your strong suite on as you continued to sing, arching your hips against his crotch as you did so. he turned you around, dipping you then curling an arm on your back. he tried to meet your eyes as he sang his part of the song, but you were determined to not meet his gaze. it made him worry. had he done something?

he turned you around again, carefully missing the step where you had to kiss his neck while he sang. he didn’t want you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. he wrapped his arms around your chest, just below your breasts, breathing onto your neck as you ended the song with the final lyrics. it was last song, that got the crowd clapping and cheering.

bidding them goodbye, the band went off stage with a sirius reeling into his thoughts. he wondered whether the things between the both of you got complicated because of the fake dating agreement. he knew it was an asshole move, just because he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth, just because he couldn’t admit his feelings about you, he held you hostage, telling you he was tired of his random fangirls that jumped on his bones every time he let him have a piece of himself. he held you for himself, just so you he could love you silently. it wasn’t fair to you, because you deserved the love without thinking it was feigned or a ploy. but was troubled.

he hated to hurt you and tell you he was yours. but he did it anyway.

*-

he found you in the vanity van, wiping off your makeup. it wasn’t a part of your usual routine. usually, you’d smoke rolls of weed or take pictures yourself post-concert. sometimes his lips and touch carried you backstage. but never this. for the first time in the night, you locked your eyes with his. through your mirror.

he was wearing the costume he wore on the stage. several earrings hanging of his ears, silver chains intertwined with each other which peeked through the half buttoned up sheer shirt. the tattoos were inked all over his body. the boot flared jeans hung low on his narrow waist. his combat boots hid beneath the denim.

‘hi stargirl,’ he said. his voice was heavy and raw.

‘drink some fucking water,’ you ordered. even though you hated how he made you feel at the moment, you couldn’t help but care for him. you watched as he took the water bottle from your dresser, gulping it down.

‘hi, stargirl,’ he said again, now much closer to you. his eyes were unusually dark and you wondered whether that was the play of the lights.

‘what are you here for? speak up, black,’

‘i can’t come and check up on my girlfriend?’ he countered. while you tried to keep your voice playful and chill, he caught up on the bitterness of your voice. neither did he miss the way you furiously tightened the hold on the tissue in your hand.

‘right. listen black, you’re not getting another fuck play from me. the pda we do is for the public eye only,’ you said, a sternness in your voice.

‘i’m not here for another fuck- what the heck do you mean?’ he asked, nearing you. you tore your eyes away from him as his hot breath fanned over your neck. he turned your chair around, sitting on his knees. he took your hands into his.

‘have I done something?’ he asked, trying to meet your eyes. your gaze burned through the metal wall of the van. he could feel the heat radiate off you as he watched your expression soften, your stony barrier melt. in a cruel haze, you elicited out a cry that made his heart bruise. but it was good, he thought. it meant you were letting him in, communicating your thoughts and feelings with him.

‘yes, you fucking have! you’ve bound me to something i- i- never wanted to do. i just agreed to it because i fucking love you. because you fucking mean so much to me, but you- you’re just using me as a pawn to protect yourself. the world isn’t as easy for me as it is for you! all people have done is now burden me into a slut that has no other personality than her playboy rockstar boyfriend. all of this just to fucking protect you. all of this because i’m stupid, because i love you. fuck you sirius!’  you sobbed.

‘i- i’m sorry.’ he whispered as you sobbed, letting the tears soak into his pale skin.

‘a sorry? a fucking sorry fixes shit up?’

‘i didn’t want this for you. i- i love you. i did this just to bind you to me. it was an asshole, selfish move, but i cannot string words to express my love for you.’

you sniffled, setting your forehead on his. your stomach churned as the realization crept onto you. the tension grew thicker and thicker, the inches between you grew smaller and smaller and the heart beats palpitated faster and faster. neither of you said anything, but it was as if your souls spoke to each other.

‘you can’t love me,’ you finally spoke. he squeezed your hand.

‘i do. you can’t decide or judge how i feel about you,’ you took in a long breath.

‘you’re not playing with me right now, are you?’

‘no.’ he confirmed, his voice strong and confident. breathing heavy, you lowered your nose to touch with is.

‘then show me. show me that you’ll want me when you’ll have me. show me you’ll me screaming out your lungs for me. show me you’ll need me more than you want to.’

‘anything for you, my stargirl,’

the emotions were naked. in a shameless haze when you spread apart you legs for him, he ripped apart your tights. in the raw spiral of love and lust, he trailed his fingers on your bare thighs. the cold metal of his rings contrasted against your warm skin. you felt yourself getting needy by every second, and for the first time, you weren’t afraid to face his need more than you wanted to. for the first time, you weren’t afraid to live your dreams.

for the first time, you were loving someone that was yours.

he pressed his tongue onto your clit, his tongue piercing cold on your warm folds. delving two fingers into you, he sucked on your clit. he drew out an unholy moan, raw from the depths of your throat, as you convulsed around his fingers. rubbing his calloused, rough fingers on your clit, you felt him ravage into you like a starved man. his stubble rubbed against your inner thighs, scratching them raw. you wrapped your legs around his head, bringing your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. he lapped up on you like a dog. your lungs screamed out for him as you felt yourself clench around his curling fingers, your orgasm coiling in your stomach. you felt it explode out of your body and paint his tongue when his voice melted into your eardrums.

‘cum for me, stargirl,’

the stars were white behind your irises, the kisses on your thighs hot and naked. he trailed his lips onto your shaking thighs, promising you his kisses won’t be history ever again.

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

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @alexaduke (if you want to be tagged please reply under this post!)

[ethansluvbot]

hotch unconsciously favouring new bau!reader and she doesn’t even notice 😭😭 she just thinks he’s super sweet and everyone is like 🤨🤨 where’s our special treatment aye?

WHERE DO WE GO NOW | A. HOTCHNER

warnings: mostly fluff, but a kiss?

an: SORRY I TOOK SO LONG HOPE YOU LOVE IT, ignore how bad im at writing like technical fbi stuff lol

as he returns to his seat on the jet, hotch gives you a pack of food and some water. you put your earplugs back in after grinning and thanked him. morgan smirked at his boss's strange actions, but he remained silent.

"all right, let's briefly review the case's facts. while morgan and prentiss travel to the M.E., jj and reid head to the crime site. y/n and i will head over to receive a briefing. okay, everyone, let's get going."

you smooth your dress down and collect your belongings, trailing hotch in the process. as soon as you enter, he opens the door for you and goes inside for a briefing.

"the victim's boyfriend last spoke with shelby at 9:02 p.m. we spoke with the bartender at jack's bar, where she was around for the majority of the evening at 9:30. we are currently obtaining the security footage from her. tell my staff or me if you need anything."

spencer said as he left the room, "i'm going to call garcia and ask for access to the security cameras sooner rather than later."

"how's jack doing?"

"he is doing well! he does, however, truly miss you, especially your homemade chocolate chip cookies."

"does he miss the cookies or do you?" you chuckle.

Thinking to himself, "I will not answer that question," you smile and wondered who else he let his guard down for. we was always open to you, even though he never discussed his past with others.

"what would you say about you, jack, and I visiting the aquarium? ever since you got him that ipad, he has been telling me about dolphins, and i get texts all the time."

as he takes a sip of coffee, reid enters the room and says, "garcia has found the camera footage. what did I ruin something?"

1 HOUR LATER

"as of right now, it appears that the unsub prefers women who are between the ages of late 20 and early 30. Every victim carries a huge risk, and I think he enjoys the possibility of exposure. kidnapped from bar parking lots despite the fact that his face is constantly hidden. he has a dark-colored van and it's clear by the signature he injures the victim, since he has a long-term damage of his own.

"y/n i would prefer if you would lay low on this case, you fit the profile and i don't want anything to happen to you."

"are you certain? given the profile, it could be the greatest option for us."

he nods while leaning back in your chair, knowing that he thought too highly of you to see you be in harms way. you have no idea how much more than you realized he cared for you.

"fine, do not put yourself into a situation where you know it will end bad."

the remaining members of the team carrying on the discussion regarding the unsub's actions. garcia chiming in with men who match the description. you gently brush your hair away from your face and glance at the hotch. even though you quickly avert his gaze, you can still feel his eyes on you.

"i'm sorry to break this terrible news, but I believe there is a match for this suspect. i'm sending you travis's records and the last two address on file." the group leaps up and sprints towards the available cars. together, you and hotch jump into the car navigating your way to his address.

you get out of the car as soon as you get there. as you search the house, some of the team arrives, and you head upstairs. Your mouth is grabbed by a hand and you are slid into a room. you fall as a result of your head slamming into the wall.

you were able to get up and cause him to lose his balance by kicking the back of his knees. your body reverts to its limp form. travis limps his way back toward your body. there's a shot, and you reach for your gun. You turn to face the hotch, who is gripping his gun.

You say, "thank you," as he helps you leave the house. doctors are rushing to your side right away. hotch stays by your side throughout the whole thing. It is a blessing to have someone who is as concerned as he is.

He asks in jest, "so you still up for the aquarium?"

TINY BONUS

With your earbuds in but the volume down enough to hear the entire conversation, the team continues to tease you on the flight back. "Where's our special treatment?" you chuckle to yourself in private.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Curt Devine, Casey Tolan, Audrey Ash, and Kyung Lah at CNN:

Last month, Russell Vought sat in a five-star Washington, DC, hotel suite, bowing his head in prayer with two men he thought were relatives of a wealthy conservative donor.

Vought, one of the key authors of Project 2025, a right-wing blueprint for a second Trump term, expected the meeting would help his think tank secure a substantial contribution. For nearly two hours, he talked candidly about his behind-the-scenes work to prepare policy for former President Donald Trump, his expansive views on presidential power, his plans to restrict pornography and immigration, and his complaints that the GOP was too focused on “religious liberty” instead of “Christian nation-ism.” But the men Vought was talking to actually worked for a British journalism nonprofit and were secretly recording him the entire time. The nonprofit, the Centre for Climate Reporting, published a video of the meeting on Thursday – offering a window into the thinking of one of the top policy minds of the MAGA movement, who’s been floated as a possible White House chief of staff. Trump has publicly rejected Project 2025 as Vice President Kamala Harris’ campaign has sought to tie him to some of the plan’s most extreme proposals. But in private, Vought said that those disavowals were merely “graduate-level politics.”

Vought said his group, the Center for Renewing America, was secretly drafting hundreds of executive orders, regulations, and memos that would lay the groundwork for rapid action on Trump’s plans if he wins, describing his work as creating “shadow” agencies. He claimed that Trump has “blessed” his organization and “he’s very supportive of what we do.” “Eighty percent of my time is working on the plans of what’s necessary to take control of these bureaucracies,” Vought said. “And we are working doggedly on that, whether it’s destroying their agencies’ notion of independence … whether that is thinking through how the deportation would work.” In discussing Trump’s plan to carry out the largest deportation in US history – which the former president has called for publicly – Vought said the expulsion of millions of undocumented immigrants could help “save the country.” Once deportations begin, “you’re really going to be winning a debate along the way about what that looks like,” Vought said. “And so that’s going to cause us to get us off of multiculturalism, just to be able to sustain and defend the deportation, right?”

The video is the latest example of secret recordings exposing political figures’ private comments. The tactics used by the Centre – which created fake websites and a fake LinkedIn profile to deceive Vought – are typically rejected by mainstream American news outlets. But using hidden cameras and deceptive practices in reporting is more common in the UK, where the Centre is based, and it’s been on the rise on the fringe of the US media as well. The conservative group Project Veritas has long conducted sting operations and published selectively edited videos, and earlier this year, a liberal activist released audio recordings of conversations she had with Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito and his wife, as well as Chief Justice John Roberts.

[...]

An elaborate ruse

Vought served as the director of the Office of Management and Budget under Trump, where he made a name for himself as a policy wonk committed to the MAGA movement. In public, Trump repeatedly praised Vought for doing an “incredible” and “fantastic” job at OMB. After Trump left office, Vought started the Center for Renewing America, a nonprofit that describes itself as the “tip of the America First spear.” CRA was one of many right-leaning groups that partnered on Project 2025, a more than 900-page blueprint for Trump’s second term that was led by the Heritage Foundation. Vought personally authored the project’s chapter on the executive office of the president, and his group contributed to several other chapters of the plan as well. Vought also served as the policy director of the Republican National Convention committee that rewrote the GOP’s official platform this year – a sign of how central he is to Republicans’ policy goals. 

Last month, Vought’s team was approached by employees with the Centre for Climate Reporting, which has previously published investigations into climate negotiations and Saudi Arabia’s energy policy. The Centre spun an elaborate fiction, with a journalist and a paid actor posing as the brother and son-in-law of a reclusive New Mexico investor. The nonexistent patriarch had watched Vought’s appearances on Steve Bannon’s “War Room” show while recuperating from an illness – and wanted to make a seven-figure contribution to CRA after previously focusing his philanthropy on classical music, they claimed. The meeting took place on July 24, the week after the Republican convention, at the presidential suite of the Rosewood hotel in DC, where the Centre had placed several hidden cameras and microphones, Carter said. After the Centre’s employees suggested starting the meeting with a prayer, they peppered Vought with questions about his work and views, the video shows.

CNN reports a secretly recorded video by Centre For Climate Reporting featuring Project 2025 co-author Russ Vought discussing his secret work preparing for a second Trump term that includes drafts for executive orders numbering in the hundreds.

See Also:

MMFA: In undercover interview, Project 2025 architect gets candid on the initiative’s radical goals and connections to Trump

[ccraccz]

Yone x fem reader semi-smut hc's

Augh this man is everything I want and need

(Also I lost the original ask so I'm so so sorry anon! I'll make this extra extra special for you because of that 💙💙💙)

Yone, this man is just so, so perfect in every which way it's CRAZY

Anyways

he'd love a good red and black ligerie on you

He would be more of a giver than a receiver

Yone would totally love you being loud, but he would never mind you being quite, those light whimpers that you'd let out

He would totally be salivating at the thought but he has more self control than most.

Yone is a total thigh person

He loves them pressing his head when eating you out

He loves them around his hips, bringing him closer

He loves them on his shoulders

He loverls them in his hands

He kisses them and bites and licks them

He loves tight garters and thigh-high socks around them too

He would never mind you making a mess on the bed, that's exactly what sex is all about, making a mess

But he'd prefer it to be minimal

Yone loves orgasming inside of you

I feel like, after a long talk, and seeing you with a few kiddos, he's probably develop a breeding kink

But it all depends if you want a kid

Even if you aren't able to have children

He just loves seeing his cum dribble out of you

Talking about cum!

He cums a lot

Like an insane amount

Most likely has hyperspermmia

It's also slightly more on the liquid side.

The color is clear with white, and it has a slight salty taste, but doesn't have an after taste

Does the carpet match the drapes?

No

Yone had black pubes, BUT he keeps himself trimmed to perfection

He has a small happy trail but it's just for the imagination of the fans

Everything else? For you pooks

He's a good ol 6'3 inches, a good amount of girth and his tip is a very nice pink color

You're his first priority

He will make you cum twice before putting it in

Maybe even more

And if it's your first time? Even more important

For a first-timer reader? He'd be so gentle, so lovable, asking them if what he's doing is okay.

The first thing they do before that, is talk about their boundaries ofc

They set up a safe word so that he could know

If not a first time reader, he'd be more relaxed, but they'd still jabe talk about boundaries and kinks

Communication is very important to Yone.

Kinks!

As I said before, thighs and black and red lingerie are magnification for him

But he also likes tummy

And getting called sir...

His favorite positions are the "G-Whiz" "missionary" and the "wrapped lotus"

He also really enjoys mutual masturbation

He, as a part of a very popular band now, also likes recording you while yo6ur having sex and / or masturbating to have it on the go

Those videos are in a a hidden file that is very secure.

But he rarely uses those videos and photos because he has so much work, poor yone

He likes marking you on discreet ways and expects you to do so too

He doesn't like having marks in places that can be easily seen, so sadly, no hikeys on the neck, but on the collarbone? Yes

Only if he knows that on the next day he'll be wearing something to cover it though!

He also doesn't make much sound, just a lot of heavy breathing, kisses, and groans.

He's only vocal when he gets closer and closer

And when he cuts, he lets out a long whine before kissing you.

He's such an icon

He also wouldn't mind showing you off to specific band members like aphelios or K'sante

But he would never EVER show you off to kayn or ezreal.

In the end, most of the time, he gets pleasure from your pleasure and would live nothing more than for you to enjoy yourself with him.

He's such a sweet heart! ❤️❤️❤️

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

Note!

Ah IM SO SORRY ANON I LOST THE ASK I HOPE THIS IS THAT YOUD LIKE 😭😭 Thank you so so so much for requesting lovely! Hope you enjoyed!! 💙💙💙