#I think I’m gonna have to give it a power wash

[rrysbabydoll]

Whispers Of Are You Sure

Paring: Harry Styles x Reader.

CW: Explicit sexual content, virginity loss, pain during first time, age/power imbalance (consensual), emotional vulnerability.

Synopsis: Y/N’s first time with Harry.

It was late morning by the time you shuffled into the kitchen in your oversized sleep shirt, rubbing your tired eyes with the sleeve and letting out a little yawn. Harry was already up, of course, hair still a little messy, humming softly as he flipped pancakes.

Your stomach fluttered. He always looked so beautiful in the mornings.

“You’re up, sleepy girl,” he murmured as you padded over and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind. He smiled and leaned back into your touch. “Mornin’, bunny.”

You nuzzled your cheek into his back, heart skipping. “Smells good.”

“Mmhm. Made your favorite.” He turned around to press a kiss to your forehead, then tilted your chin up gently to peck your lips. “Sit down. Gotta feed you.”

You obeyed, settling into the chair and curling your legs under yourself while he brought over a plate stacked with pancakes, strawberries, and syrup. He sat beside you, sipping his tea, watching as you slowly started to eat.

You were quiet for a bit, eyes down, pushing a strawberry around your plate.

He noticed, of course. He always noticed.

“Alright, baby,” he said gently, brushing your knee under the table. “What’s on your mind?”

You paused, then looked at him. He looked so calm, so kind. And suddenly it just… came out.

“I think I’m ready.”

Harry blinked. “Yeah?”

You nodded, cheeks hot. “For… you know. For us. That. I think I’m ready now.”

His expression softened instantly. He reached for your hand on the table, holding it carefully in his much larger one.

“Yeah?” he said again, quieter, more tender now. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

You nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it. I want it to be you.”

He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles, his smile small and warm. “We’ll see,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “After you eat.”

After breakfast, Harry had insisted on tidying up the kitchen himself. “Go relax for a bit,” he said, leaning down to kiss your head. “I’ll come find you in a minute.”

It was quiet upstairs.

You sat on the edge of the bed in just your soft tank top and panties, fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem. Your heart was thudding a little faster than usual. You’d brushed your hair, sprayed perfume even though you weren’t sure why, it just made you feel nice.

Downstairs, you could hear Harry doing something in the kitchen. Dishes, maybe. Tidying. Giving you time. He always gave you time.

But your mind was spiraling.

What if it hurt? What if you weren’t good at it? What if he noticed how nervous you were?

By the time he came upstairs, you were sitting cross-legged on the bed, face pink, and hands twisted together in your lap.

He knocked softly on the doorframe even though it was open.

“Hey, baby.”

He stepped into the room with a freshly washed softness to him, hands slightly damp, sleeves pushed up, hair a little messy like he’d run his hands through them. He smiled when he saw you, sitting nervously on the edge of the bed like a bunny.

You swallowed. “Hi.”

He walked over, kneeling in front of the bed, resting his hands on your thighs. “Still want to?” he asked, voice low and careful.

You nodded, teeth digging into your bottom lip. “Just a little scared.”

His thumbs rubbed soft circles over your skin. “That’s okay,” he said. “First time’s a big thing, love. Doesn’t need to be rushed.”

Your eyes were wide. “Will it hurt?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, brushing your hair out of your face. “But I’m gonna be so gentle with you. I’ll stop if you want. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. Ever, alright?”

You nodded slowly. “Okay.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, then stood and offered his hand. “C’mere, angel.”

You let him guide you down to lie on the bed with him. He kissed you slowly, carefully, his hand sliding up your thigh.

“You tell me if anything feels wrong,” he whispered against your lips. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

He trailed kisses down your jaw, your neck, sweet and slow. You shivered a little, breathing quickening.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured. “My sweet girl.”

He kissed you for a while first. Slowly, like he wanted to memorize the shape of your mouth, the way you sighed into him, the tremble in your fingers when you touched his jaw. Every movement was patient. Every moment was wrapped in the kind of love that made your chest ache in the best way.

Harry moved you up the bed with a quiet murmur, hands careful and steady, guiding you until your head was against the pillows. He stood for a second, letting his eyes trail over you, your soft thighs brushing together nervously. He reached for the bedside lamp, switching it on so the room was bathed in a warm, quiet glow.

“I wanna see you,” he murmured, climbing in beside you.

You felt breathless with the way he looked at you, like you were something to be adored. Something precious.

His hands touched your legs first, thumbs stroking gently along the inside of your thighs. You let them fall apart for him shyly, cheeks burning, heart pounding in your ears. He leaned over you and kissed your collarbone, his lips barely brushing skin.

“You’re so soft, baby,” he whispered, trailing kisses down, “So perfect. Gonna take such good care of you.”

You whimpered under your breath, thighs shifting instinctively as his hands moved higher. When his fingers brushed over your panties, damp with nerves and need, you flinched just slightly. He noticed, of course. He noticed everything.

“It’s alright,” he whispered. “Just me. Gonna make you feel good.”

You nodded, already clinging to his arm a little.

He hooked his fingers in the waistband, looking at you for permission before sliding them down your legs. You felt so exposed underneath him.

Harry dipped down and kissed your stomach, his curls brushing against your skin. “So pretty,” he murmured. “You nervous?”

You nodded.

He leaned up and kissed your lips, thumb stroking over your cheek. “We’ll go slow. You tell me what feels good. You tell me if you need to stop, alright?”

“Okay,” you breathed.

Then he shifted down the bed, settling between your thighs so gently you barely felt it until his fingers were back, touching, stroking, teasing until you whined quietly into the silence.

“Already so wet for me,” he murmured, voice almost reverent. “Sweet little thing…”

You gasped when you felt one of his fingers start to push in, thick and slow and warm, stretching you in a way that made your thighs tense.

“Shhh,” he soothed, hand stroking your hip. “That’s it. Just one. You’re alright.”

You let out a breath, your body adjusting slowly around the intrusion. It didn’t hurt, not really, just felt big, strange, full. But then his finger curled just slightly, and a moan escaped you without warning.

“There it is,” Harry whispered, smiling against your thigh. “That’s my good girl.”

Your hands twisted in the sheets, chest rising with each shaky breath as he moved the finger slowly in and out, pausing every so often to circle that sensitive bundle of nerves that made you tremble.

“You’re doing so well,” he praised, kissing the inside of your knee. “So tight, baby. Gonna have to open you up a little more.”

When he added a second finger, you whimpered, hips shifting, eyes fluttering closed as your body tried to keep up.

“Harry—”

“I know,” he murmured, soothing you with kisses. “I know, baby. You’re okay. Just gotta stretch you out nice and slow. Wanna make sure it doesn’t hurt when I’m inside you, alright?”

You nodded, already clinging to his wrist now. The stretch was real, deep and burning but not painful. Just overwhelming. You felt so full, like your body had never been touched this way before. And it hadn’t. Not like this. Not with someone who kissed your thighs like they were holy. Who worshipped the way your body opened up for him.

“You’re doin’ so good for me,” Harry murmured, kissing the top of your thigh. “Takin’ two fingers already. My perfect baby…”

You moaned softly, back arching off the bed as he started to scissor the fingers just slightly, opening you up inch by inch. When he reached up with his free hand and laced your fingers together, you squeezed him tight, eyes glassy with the intensity.

And then he added the third.

Your gasp was sharp, surprised, legs tensing instinctively.

“Easy,” Harry whispered, kissing your hand. “Almost there. Gotta get you ready for me, angel. You want that, don’t you?”

You nodded, tears pricking your eyes. “Y-Yeah… but—Harry—feels big.”

He kept his fingers still for a moment, letting you breathe, letting your body catch up to the fullness.

“I know, sweet girl,” he said softly, stroking your cheek. “You’re bein’ so brave for me.”

You whimpered, one hand clutching the duvet, the other holding onto him tightly. His fingers began to move again, slow, steady pumps that made your thighs shake and your mouth fall open.

Every time he found that spot inside you, it felt like your body lit up. And when he leaned up to kiss you, slow and open-mouthed, you clung to him like you might fall apart otherwise.

You were just starting to rock your hips a little against his hand, instinctive, desperate, when he slowed down and started to pull his fingers out.

“Nooo,” you whined without thinking, hips lifting off the bed in protest.

Harry chuckled softly, his voice low and fond. “Oh, baby…”

He sat back on his knees, wiping his fingers gently on a tissue before reaching over to the drawer beside the bed. You watched him pull out a condom, your body still trembling, lips swollen from his kisses.

And then, without thinking, you said it, your voice a whiny little breath:

“I’m on birth control…”

Harry paused, the foil packet still in his hand. He blinked down at you, and you shrank into the pillow just a little, looking up at him shyly.

You felt the shift in the air before he even said anything.

“Oh,” he murmured, setting the condom on the nightstand slowly. “Are you?”

You nodded, flushed and fidgety.

Harry tilted his head just slightly, eyes narrowing with a little amused smirk. “First time… and you’re already a dirty girl, hmm?”

You buried your face in your hands with a mortified little squeak.

He laughed softly and leaned over you again, pulling your hands away so he could see your face.

“Hey,” he said, voice like honey. “You’re cute when you’re shy, you know that?”

You pouted. “I just… I wanted to be ready. For you.”

His heart nearly exploded at that. He kissed your forehead so gently, you barely felt it.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered. “My soft, sweet girl. I’ve got you.”

He slid his shirt off in one smooth motion, and your breath hitched at the sight of him, broad shoulders, inked chest, the light trail of hair leading down to the waistband of his sweats. He noticed, of course. He always noticed.

“You okay?” he asked, voice dropping.

You nodded slowly.

He reached down and pulled his sweats off, letting you look. He was big. Thick. Your eyes widened, and your breath came short again.

He smiled down at you, smug and sweet all at once. “Uh-uh,” he teased, kissing your nose. “You were whining just now like you needed me. What happened to that mouth?”

You shoved him playfully and he laughed, rolling his hips against yours just enough for you to feel him, not pressing in yet, just teasing, giving you time.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” he whispered against your cheek. “Gonna make it perfect for you.”

Harry kissed you the whole time he lined himself up, gentle, open-mouthed kisses across your cheek, your jaw, your lips. Like he could distract you from the nerves building up again in your chest.

“Breathe with me,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “Just nice and slow. You tell me if it’s too much, alright?”

“Okay,” you whispered back, voice trembling.

You held onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin just slightly as he started to push in.

The stretch was intense. Way bigger than his fingers. Thicker. Deeper. You gasped, your body tensing instantly as pain bloomed sharp and hot through your lower stomach.

“Harry—” you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut, voice already shaky.

“Shhh,” he breathed, stilling completely. “I’ve got you. Just the tip, baby. You’re okay. Look at me.”

You opened your eyes, already glossy. He kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Hurts,” you sniffled.

“I know,” he murmured, brushing your hair back. “I know, sweet girl. You’re so tight, s’why we took our time. You’re doing so well for me.”

You looked up at him, all pouty and overwhelmed, and Harry’s heart broke just a little.

“You wanna stop?”

You shook your head quickly. “No. I want you.”

He kissed your cheek, voice quiet and careful. “Okay. I’m gonna go real slow.”

You nodded, blinking tears away.

He pressed in another inch, and your whole body tensed again, hips trying to wiggle away without meaning to.

“Shhh, baby—uh-uh, don’t run,” Harry said gently, catching your hips. “Almost there. Gotta let me in, yeah?”

You whimpered, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes.

“I know, I know,” he whispered, kissing your nose, your eyelids, your trembling lips. “S’a lot, isn’t it?”

“Mhmm,” you managed, voice small and tight.

“You’re so brave,” he whispered, so softly you barely heard it. “So beautiful. Let me make it better.”

He stilled again, staying buried halfway, waiting until your breath started to slow, his hands stroking your thighs, your stomach, your hips like he could ease the tension with his fingertips. And maybe he did, a little.

When he finally pushed all the way in, you cried out, quiet but raw, and he kissed you right through it, holding your face in both hands.

“I know, angel,” he murmured. “I’m so proud of you.”

You sniffled again, lips wobbling. “Feels too big…”

“Shhh,” he breathed, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You’re takin’ me so good. Look at you. My perfect girl.”

He stayed completely still inside you, letting your body adjust. You were trembling under him, your hands tight in his hair, your cheeks flushed pink with tears and effort.

“Hurts, but… feels better when you don’t move,” you mumbled.

“Then I won’t move,” Harry promised. “Not until you tell me it’s okay.”

He kissed your throat, your chest, the swell of your breast. Whispered soft things into your skin.

“So proud of you.”

And then slowly, so slowly, you realized your body was relaxing. The pain wasn’t as sharp anymore. It was duller now, heavy and stretching but not unbearable. You shifted just slightly and gasped when a little flicker of pleasure passed through your belly.

“Harry…”

He looked up immediately. “Talk to me, baby.”

“Think I’m okay now.”

His eyes softened. “You sure?”

“Yeah… can you move a little?”

He nodded, kissing your lips sweetly. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

He pulled out an inch, then eased back in. The stretch was still there, but it wasn’t pain anymore, not really. It was pressure and fullness and heat, and it made your toes curl.

You moaned softly, and Harry kissed your neck, voice barely a whisper.

“That’s it… feels better, doesn’t it?”

“Mhmm,” you breathed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

He started a slow rhythm, moving inside you with careful control. Deep, steady strokes that let your body adjust fully, let you feel everything. The way he filled you. The way your bodies moved together. The way your hips started to tilt up for more.

You clung to him, overwhelmed and open and teary-eyed all over again, but this time, it wasn’t from pain.

“I can feel you everywhere,” you whispered, voice shaking.

Harry smiled against your skin. “That’s right, baby. S’cause you’re mine. Made to take me.”

You moaned, tiny and sweet and desperate, and he groaned softly at the sound.

“Fuck,” he murmured. “You feel so good. You’re squeezin’ me so tight, bunny.”

You were panting now, gasping softly every time he moved deeper.

“Harry, I—feels weird—good weird—”

“You’re close, baby,” he breathed. “Can feel it. Let go for me.”

You whimpered into his mouth, your nails dragging down his back as the pleasure finally crested. It was warm and soft and shaky, not sharp like you imagined, it washed over you like a wave, leaving you breathless and crying out his name.

“Harry—!”

“That’s it,” he whispered, hips slowing. “That’s my good girl.”

He followed not long after, burying himself deep, moaning your name against your shoulder as he came. You felt everything. The way his body shook. The way his arms tightened around you. The warmth between your thighs.

When it was over, he didn’t move. He just held you. Kissed your cheek. Stroked your hair.

You blinked up at him, still dazed. “I cried,” you sniffled.

“I know,” he murmured with a soft smile. “So pretty when you cry.”

You pouted, and he kissed your lips.

“Did I do okay?” you whispered.

Harry looked like he could break from how much he loved you. “You were perfect.”

He pulled out slowly, murmuring soft apologies when you winced. Then he cleaned you up with the warm towel he’d left nearby, whispering praise the entire time.

When he came back to bed, he wrapped you in his arms, letting your cheek rest on his chest.

It had been five minutes since Harry cleaned you up and tucked you into his chest, and you still hadn’t said a word.

You were hiding. Properly hiding, your face buried in the crook of his neck, hands pulled up to cover your cheeks, knees tucked close to your chest under the blanket even though his body was right there to warm you.

“Baby,” he murmured softly, brushing your hair back. “What’s all this about, hmm?”

You only shook your head, whimpering a little. His neck muffled the sound.

He smiled, warm and amused and a little smug. “You’re not shy now, are you?”

A tiny groan escaped you, muffled by his skin. You felt like you might combust if you saw his face. The memories were playing on loop in your mind, the sounds you’d made, the way you cried, the way he looked down at you the whole time.

He kissed your hair, then your temple, and then, unfairly, the shell of your ear.

“Y’know,” he whispered, voice low and soft, “you were just crying and begging for me, and now you can’t even look at me?”

You whined again, face getting hotter.

“Stop teasing…” you mumbled into his skin.

“I’m not,” he said sweetly, smiling as he rubbed your back. “Just don’t know why you’re hidin’ from me, bunny. Thought you’d be proud. Took me so well.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head, making him laugh, quiet and affectionate.

“C’mere. Let me see your face.”

You refused.

“Baby…”

Still no.

He kissed your forehead this time, slow and gentle. “You’re my favorite girl in the whole world,” he murmured. “You did something really special today, yeah? You gave me a gift, and I’ll never forget it.”

You peeked at him for a second, then instantly buried your face again.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he laughed, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“I don’t know how to act around you now,” you whined, your voice tiny and muffled.

He grinned and pulled you to lie flat on your back, hovering over you, pinning your wrists to the mattress playfully.

“You act like you always do,” he whispered, nudging your nose with his. “Sweet and soft and my angel.”

You pouted up at him, your cheeks flushed pink, lips swollen, eyes still a little glassy.

“I love you,”

“I love you more.”

[reignpage]

Munchkins

The different ways the JJK men eat pussy

Gojo: like it’s a game

He thinks shit be funny when it’s really not. Fingers spreading your lips apart, he’ll coo at the quivering of your hole. 

“Oh look, she’s talking to me,” he mutters to himself, grinning. “Hi, pretty baby. Whatcha trying to say? ‘You’re so handsome, Satoru?’ And, ‘You’re the best lover I’ve ever had?’”

When he continues his little conversation, you know he’s genuinely getting lost in his own delusions. A whimper of frustration leaves you. That grabs his attention and with a mock gasp of shock, he presses an apologetic kiss right on your clit, sucking as hard as he can to really get his point across. 

“Awwwwww, baby. I’m sorry. Bet you were feeling left out, huh? Okay, okay. Time to get serious.” 

And then a wide tongue is splaying flat against your entire pussy, spreading your wetness around as he motorboats your sloppy cunt, humming a breathy laugh at the juicy sounds that he elicits. “How’s -ha- this? Better? God, you taste so good. Been eating pineapples, haven’t you?”

“S-shut up, Toru,” you groan. 

“Hey, don’t be mean,” he grumbles with no real heat. 

The orgasm that washes over you is powerful and you can’t conjure a single word out even when he quizzes you like an idiot, rubbing in that he's made you feel so good, you're left silent and dumb. “What day is it? No, I don’t think it’s ‘oh fuckkkk.’ Let's try so something easier. Can you recite pi to the one hundredth digit, baby? No? Yeah, me neither. Aw, you look so pretty. I should take a picture, shouldn’t I? Okay, okay, hold that face. Gonna get a camera.”

Geto: like it’s a test

“Come on, pretty.” He pulls away from your cunt, lips glistening with your juices and you have to fight the urge to close your legs from sudden embarrassment. “You’re pulling my hair too hard. How am I supposed to give you all my attention if you’re pulling me away, hmm?”

Lying down on his stomach, he’s placed himself in the most comfortable position for him to do everything it takes to bring you pleasure. And just as he said, locks of his silky black hair pool through your fingers as you tug every time the tip of his tongue rolls your bundle of nerves with expert precision. 

“Sorry, Sugu,” you find the clarity to whimper out. 

His arm reaches out to grip a breast and the weight makes his eyes roll back. As if punishing you for distracting him, he pinches a nipple and shoves his tongue inside your pussy, feeling the gummy walls clench down. Your back arches. “’s okay, pretty girl. Just —mhm so well-behaved— focus on the pleasure, alright?”

"Oh, Suguru, I can't. S-so good, oh yes, right there."

A thumb finds its way onto your clit, rubbing in precise and controlled circles; he knows just how you like it. Your moans get louder and louder. “Close? Tell me what you need. Talk to me,” he pleads. 

The smile that fills your blurry vision after a wonderful orgasm blinds you. His eyes explore your face, seeking every twitch and sigh like it fuels him, and maybe it does because his hard, leaking cock pushes in slowly, massaging every pleat inside your pulsing walls. 

“Let me hear more of your beautiful moans. Fuck, I can’t get enough of you.”

Choso: like an addict

You’re kneeling in the living room, pulling fibres from the plush carpet. Shorts pulled down, you can do nothing to stop the man moaning behind you as he sucks your clit with no technique. His tongue is venturing all the way down and all the way up, chasing after the taste of you. 

“Fuck! Choso, w-what is wrong with you?”

The day had started like normal. On your way to the kitchen, he murmured something about how good you smelt, and, without warning, tackled you onto the ground. This is so typical of him; he eats you out in the shower, against the front door, the window, in the car, in a park, and so on and so forth. And he does it all shamelessly.

“Sorry, I just -mhm- c-couldn’t help -ah so good- myself.”

It’s wet everywhere and not just from the waterfall of juices streaming out of your pulsing hole. Choso’s drooling —no, practically slobbering— all over your thighs, lapping up every drop. Despite all the times he’s tasted you, he can never get enough. 

Most days you have to fight him off, throwing pillows at his face and swatting his wandering hands even when he pouts and asks, “But why?”

And when you cum, mind completely blank as you pant desperately, face firmly planted on the carpet as his hands hold your hips up, his mouth doesn’t stop. 

“Ah, can I have one more?” He presses his cheek to your slit with a squelch and smooshes it, enjoying the heat against his clammy skin. “Please?”

You roll your eyes.

"No, don't crawl away. That's not nice. Oh, do you wanna do it on the kitchen counter? Okay!"

Toji: like a big meanie

“God, she’s talkative today, ain’t she?”

In his defence, you deserve this. He had just come home from a long day being a killer for hire and fell on the bed with just a grunt. You should have let him rest, you knew that, but in your defence, he’s sexy as hell.

Literally walking sex. 

“Y’r soaking the bed like a slut, look at you. Didn’t you grow out of this habit, ma? What kinda example you trying to show to our kid?”

His fingers are pummelling inside your pussy, curling against your G-spot without mercy. The pressure he’s building inside rivals the vacuum of his mouth on your clit. “Just had to climb up and sit on my damn face, didn’t ya? Couldn’t keep it in your pants? What? I don’t give it to ya enough? No, ‘course not, cause this dirty pussy always needs to be stuffed full, doesn’t she?”

There’s no particular rhythm to your grinding, and your desperation makes the corner of his scarred lip tick up. When you look down, your eyes meet his and the wink he sends you drives you over the edge. 

“That’s a new record ha. Must have been pent up, poor baby. Good thinking taking what you want when you need. Proud of ya, kid.”

Out of breath, you ask with a little shame, “You're not mad?”

SMACK!

Your asscheek is burning from the slap and you fall down on the bed with a ‘fuck you!’

“How long have ya known me, dumbass? I could be bleeding from a bullet in the chest and I’d still let you ride my dick.”

Nanami: like a man in love

“Sweetheart, are you sure I’m not distracting you?” 

For whatever reason, your husband still feels guilty about his desire despite all the years you've been together. Watching you slave away at the stove was apparently a stimulating sight. In his own Kento way of saying ‘thank you,’ he had cuddled up behind you, pressing kisses on your neck with his hands wandering down your curves. 

Moaning, you do your best to stir even when his face is shoved in between your thighs, suckling on your pussy from behind. “Ken, you silly man. Of course you’re —ngh!— d-distracting me but it’s a good —oh, Ken— distraction, d-don’t worry.”

“Really? Oh, that makes me so happy, darling, because I really couldn’t hold on any longer.” Even when he’s being absolutely filthy as he forces naughty squelches out of your sensitive pussy, he’s being so sweet — occasionally, he lays kisses on your clit, whispering praises like he’s spell-struck. “My lovely wife. My beautiful wife. My darling love.”

His warm breath and his even warmer words pushes you to the light and you’re spasming in his hands and on his mouth. 

“That’s it, honey. Such a good girl. How did I get so lucky?”

Then, sweaty and elated, he stands to full height and smothers you in a kiss. Distantly, you hear the click of the stove before you’re carried away, bridal-style to your bedroom. Your giggles makes him smile and, when he lays you down gently on the bed, he takes you in with a sparkle in his eyes. 

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Let me show you my sincerity, sweetheart.”

Sukuna: like a liar 

When you had wandered into the garden, you hadn’t expected that you’d get pulled to the side, off the path, and pushed against a tree. Before you can process anything, your lips are being devoured by his — sharp teeth, unforgiving lips, and a growl echoing in your mouth. 

A big hand worms its way through your layers and tears off your flimsy panties with one yank. Just as the cool breeze meets your slit, a palm covers the entire area. 

“Kuna, w-what are you doi—Ah, fuck!”

A long and wet tongue prods its way around, rolling your clit with reckless abandon. You hear both mouths, from his face and his hand, growl in satisfaction at the taste of you. “I could sense your growing need, woman. It was overwhelming. And as your king, I must fulfil my duty and grant you one moment of pleasure. Rejoice in my benevolence.”

That’s definitely not the case since you were thinking of nothing but what to cook for dinner but you know him; he hides his desires with what he knows best. 

Deceit. 

“I’ve barely done anything and look at you, writhing like a worm. How pathetic,” he snarls. Sukuna kisses your lips the way he eats your pussy: like he’s desperate and hungry — positively starved.

Your orgasm is practically forced out of you, taken like it was always his to begin with. Deep in the back of your mind, you hope no servants have wandered near, or hell, stepped foot in the garden at all because your moans and whimpers were unreserved.

“Your moans are grating on the ears. Try to do less squealing like a mouse when you take both of my cocks, woman.”

[pervoshi]

SENTRY!BOB . drabble

is this incredibly ooc? yeah a Little, however! it was worth soooo . . .

sentry, who has you pinned against the wall, one hand knuckles deep inside of you, the other covering your mouth so valentina can’t hear how loudly you’re whining out for him.

he couldn’t help himself, the way you so stupidly thought he wouldn’t find you hiding inside his tower? did you really find him that dumb?

the thunderbolts helplessly waiting for you to signal, not knowing you’re currently getting your insides rearranged by the man that not even a day ago was a fidgeting, anxious mess.

bob wasn’t bob anymore, he was someone else completely — someone you didn’t recognize.

“b—bob please—,”

“didn’t i say to call me sentry?”

right, this wasn’t bob at all actually, it was sentry, the almighty hero — well, as heroic as someone can be when their hand is down their ex-coworkers pants.

“not c—calling you that,”

“excuse me?”

bob— sentry’s free hand pressed into your neck, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to keep you check.

“you wanna try that again?”

god, he was hot.

too fucking hot that it was driving you insane.

“s—sentry, sentry!”

you had to speed this up, the sounds of your teammates worrying voices in your ear making you panic, knowing they’d start making their way up if you didn’t give a response.

sentry could see the way your eyes flickered between him, his hand in your pants, and the elevator just down the stairs.

it was cute, the way you tried to act scared when in reality this was exactly what you could ever hope for.

“you scared they’re gonna come up and see you like this—,”

he pushed his fingers further, curling them more, brushing right against your sweet spot.

“a mess, dripping all over me,”

you bit into your lip, hands curling into balls against the drywall, eyes closing as you tried so hard to swallow any moan clawing at your throat.

“no, don’t do that,”

sentry’s hand still on your neck slid up to pry open your mouth, keeping his thumb pressed against the plump of your bottom lip to keep it open.

“let me hear how good i’m making you feel.”

it shocked you just how mouthy he was being, this confidence seemingly coming out of thin air.

maybe it was his ego talking, knowing just how much power he had now, especially over you, his strength reaching new heights he had no idea he possessed.

valentina did say he was as strong as god, so why not make the most of that?

“i think, after this mission,”

you felt him lift your head slightly, eyes now looking directly into his, a cynical grin on his face.

“i’ll keep you here with me, in this tower,”

his fingers sped up, now ramming into you at a pace you’d never experienced, your legs starting shake from the sensation.

“just so i can play with you whenever i want.”

“b—,”

sentry’s eyes flashed a deep yellow, a warning to you if you even uttered that name.

his thumb came up to lazily rub your clit, your body arching slightly as your impending release was slowly building, the warmth bubbling in your stomach.

“s—sentry, i’m—!”

“close? i can tell, she’s clenching around me.”

why did he have to be so cocky about it? it didn’t help how incredibly turned on it was making you —him, having so much control over you.

sentry’s hand, not on your cunt, moved to grope the flesh of your tits, pinching your nipples through the material of your suit.

“oh my go—!”

he chuckled, leaning his head forward so his lips were pressed right against your ear, teeth nipping at the skin ever so lightly.

“yeah, i am your god, aren’t i?”

holy fuck.

your orgasm washed over you like a wave, body shaking, eyes rolling, voice breaking as you flew your hand onto sentry’s wrist.

sentry could feel his cock straining against the annoyingly tight fabric of his suit, the way you so quietly whimpered out his name made him resist the urge to turn you around and fuck you right there.

“go—,”

an elevator ding, followed by the sound of valentina’s voice echoing through the room.

“how crazy is it to think of all the monumental fights that happened exactly here where you’re standing?”

he quickly pulled his fingers from you, looking at the sticky substance before raising them to you lips, pushing against them slightly.

“c’mon, open up.”

you let him slide them into your mouth, tongue licking away your slick from them, trying to hold back any noises that could slip from you.

sentry pulled them out quickly, hearing the thunderbolts move around, voices bickering with one another.

he gave your cheek a couple soft taps, taking a few steps away before turning back, eyes trailing over your fucked our body.

“guess you should clean up before going back down there, huh?”

this cheeky fucking bastard.

[bbywriter]

amateur | c. sturniolo

masterlist

summary: back in LA, nick and chris, your long distance boyfriend, stumble upon a silly little vlog you left them from boston.

pairing: christopher sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: just some cutesy fluff

notes: ahh hi everyone this is my first ever fic! i’m kinda nervous but also really excited, pls let me know what u think <3

word count: 800

—

It’s late Thursday night, and Nick is buried in editing their upcoming Friday vlog. This week’s video compiles the boys’ most recent trip back home to Boston. While scrubbing through the raw footage, he stumbles upon an unexpected clip—one clearly not meant for the final cut.

The video begins with you holding the camera, your voice uncertain as you fiddle with the buttons. “Uh… I don’t even know if this is recording properly,” you say, the shot capturing nothing but your slightly out-of-focus bedroom. The camera wobbles a little before the clip abruptly ends. Nick smiles, calling over his brother. “Chris, come look at this.”

Chris gets up from his seat at the dining table, curiosity pulling him towards his brother in the living room. He settles beside Nick on the couch before the next clip plays. This time, your face appears on the screen as you hold the camera an arms length away. “Good morning guys—Oh my god this quality is insane I can see every single one of my pores,” you mutter, leaning in closer to examine your skin on the tiny viewfinder. After a second, you abruptly flash a peace sign and pucker your lips, before laughing at yourself. “Ew, Nick please leave this out.”

Chris can’t help but smile, his chest tightening with an overwhelming fondness at the sight of you. The soft Boston sunrise filters through the open blinds, washing your room in a warm, golden light. Sunbeams stream gently from behind you, casting a soft halo around your face. You’ve clearly just woken up—your voice is still heavy with sleep, your hair tousled, and your eyes half-closed. But even through the screen, despite it all, you have Chris completely captivated.

The video continues into your makeshift vlog, where you update the camera on your plans for the day—attending a 10am lecture followed by a three-hour lab that starts at 1pm. Halfway through, you get sidetracked by a story from last week’s lab, laughing as you recount how your friend accidentally burnt her eyelash extensions from holding the Bunsen burner too close to her face.

Chris already heard this story the day it initially happened, but he could listen to you tell it a hundred times again. Watching the way your eyes literally smile before the rest of your face follows, and hearing the sweetest sound of your laughter—he could never get tired of it.

The clip stretches on for nearly six minutes as you get distracted by all the little things you suddenly remember you want to share. Finally, you circle back to the reason you’re filming in the first place—explaining how you found the camera in your purse while searching for your wallet to put in your backpack.

“Chris, you must have forgotten it in my purse when you dropped me off yesterday, but I’ll just give it to you guys when I see you later. But yeah… how was your guys’ day?” you ask, fully leaning into the content creator persona. It takes a second of realization before you cringe, your nose scrunching with visible embarrassment as you cover your eyes with your free hand. “I’m literally talking to this camera like it’s gonna answer me. This is so weird, I don’t know how you guys do this.”

Chris lets out a soft laugh, finding your awkward struggle for something that’s second nature to him so endearing.

You sigh softly and glance off-screen. “God I really hope that all recor—oh shit, ‘battery low, please connect to power’,” you read off the viewfinder. “Oh I think it’s gonna die soon. Okay, bye guys! Chris, bye baby! Love you, please text me if you saw this!”

You obnoxiously pucker your lips, leaning in to kiss the lens with a dramatic smooching sound, but just before it lands, the camera cuts off as the battery gives out. Chris stares at the screen, his heart swelling so big in his chest it feels like it would explode.

Nick nudges him, giggling. “Dude, she’s so bad at this.”

“Shut up,” Chris says, biting back a smile. “Send me those.”

Nick glances at his brother as he airdrops him the clips and teases. “Wipe that stupid grin off your face, you look like an idiot.”

But Chris doesn’t hear him. Instead he immediately screenshots the last frame—a blurry but perfect shot of your goofy kiss. Without hesitation, he sets the photo as his new wallpaper, then finds your contact.

Baby: You should start a channel baby

Baby: Gotta teach you more about the camera though haha this vid was a little ridiculous

He sends the screenshot he took.

Baby: This was cute though

Baby: You’re beautiful

Baby: Love you❤️

Baby: Miss you

He sends the last message, knowing you’re back in Boston and likely asleep by now. Still, he can’t help but smile at his phone, already counting down the days until he can see you again. 

—

a/n: hi guyss :) this was just something quick i thought of, inspired by a clip from the boys’ vlog i came across the other day where madi was randomly filming their dining table or something lol. pls let me know what u think ahhh this was so fun!!!

[asaedw]

Fucking Sae and cuffing him as revenge for all the times he made you submit. (mdni, handcuffs, slapping, bratty sub Sae, dom reader)

Read our PINKOCK series here!

🫀You thought Sae would take you seriously? If you’re a dom, then it’s either a fight of dominance or he’s just straight up mocking you. However, today, things are different. I mean, how many more times is he gonna get away with it? Fucking you till you’re blind, just because you decide to switch it up for him? (Dom reader, kinda sub Sae, a little ooc, I wrote this because I’m a dom-switch and I don’t see any dom readers on here sooo)

🫀wc: 1259

You don’t want to whine or pout. That will instantly defeat your argument. You understand that the true essence of domination is understanding that you are deserving of pleasure. That you are being given to during sex. That also applies if you’re on the bottom.

The problem however, was that you never felt that way with Sae. It wasn’t a problem with your past exes. Even when they thought they had you all wrapped around their finger, in the end you were the one pulling the strings. The one that was left pleased. With Sae, his pathetically beautiful yet plastered stoic expression and his lewd promises, it’s easy to feel that you have no control over him.

You have been submissive in bed to him almost entirely throughout your relationship, but the few times he’d let you fuck yourself dumb on his cock. Even then, he was the one with the nearly blank face.

Today, you refuse.

You hear the keys jingle outside and then clank. The front door to your shared hotel for the night flies open and then shut.

Sae stops in his tracks when he sees you, all dolled up.

“Where are you going?” He places his duffel bag down as he locks the door.

“No where.” Your reply is plain. Like you are trying to imitate him.

He looks around curiously. You wear a black top that exposes more cleavage than you usually do. You feel that a woman’s breasts represent some sort of power that men lack. An almost idiotic ideology you picked up from somewhere.

“You must be hungry.” You walked towards a table for two in your dining room and lit a candle.

“Heels? In the home?” He inquired, probably noticing the sound of your heels clicking per step.

“They’re pretty, aren’t they?” You keep your composure.

He finally sits, attacking the carbonara pasta you cooked up with a fork.

“It’s delicious. Why aren’t you eating?” Judging by the number of questions, you can tell he’s already feeling a shift in the atmosphere.

“I already ate.” You kept your eyes locked on his, the same way he always does that nearly always weakens your knees.

He gulps, his pupils wander for a second before they fall on me. He was ready to use his secret weapon, but I was already at his throat with it.

“Is there a problem?” He cocks a brow and then continues to eat the pasta.

“There’s a big problem.” You start.

He looks up at you, almost nervously.

“What is it?”

“There’s a huge spider beneath our bed.” You look away for a brief second.

“Is that… so?”

You nod.

He licks his plate clean, placing it next to the sink.

“I’ll be there in a moment.” He washes his hands and watches you disappear into the shared bedroom.

He bends over the bed, his hand raised with a phone.

“The flashlight isn’t bright enough. I don’t see any—“ with an unsuspected click, Sae’ s raised hand gets tied into a cuff you had attactched to the hole in the bed’s decoration earlier.

“Fucking hell…” he mutters when he turns to face you. You eye him like predator does to prey, “I knew something was off.”

“It will be an interesting turn of events to see you vulnerable for once, Sae.” You touch his nose teasingly, and then drag your finger down his face, “don’t you think?”

“Sure.” He glares at you and you swear you see his eye twitch. He lowers himself on the bed, contemplating whether or not to sit and give you full control. You bring you finger lower, now lifting his face with a finger.

“Don’t make this difficult for me.”

“Fuck you.” He cusses through gritted teeth.

Another click ties away his other hand into the cuffs. With such restricted movement and my knee already pinning him down from the side of his thigh, he had no other option but to sit.

“Good boy.” You praise. Before he can spit venom at you once more, you take his lip in between your teeth. And then plant wet kisses down his neck, already recieving some sharp exhales from him.

“Just fuck me already.” He commands but it comes out like begging and he pants for air. After several minutes of teasing and toying with usually dominant man, he was willing to be pathetic enough to let out the pleas he never thought he would have to. “Please.”

His clothed dick now erected and his voice breaking with every word, he begs once more, “come on. Fuck me.”

You rip his jersey off to whcih his eyes widen. It doesn’t take long for you to break his begging penis from the clothes it was earlier clad in.

“As you wish.” You say before you go berserk on his penis.

You’d already stripped. That was half of why he was already begging for you. Now, you sit on him, guiding the mushroom tip to your entrance. He winces.

“Don’t fucking tease me.” He manages to spit out. He throws his head back in anticipation.

You draw circles on your clit almost getting off on his tip alone. His weak protests blurr in the background of your rising orgasm.

“Fine, fine.” Before you let yourself finish, you take his cock in. Sae whimpers at the feel of your lubricated walls pulsating around his cock. You bounce, slapping his balls into your ass each time your hips meet. He whimpers a few times more, biting his lip to keep his noises in. Like he was trying to keep his dignity.

The little whines and gasps escape his lips anyway once his tip repeatedly fucks into your cervix. His lips part but his eyes flicker shut. You deliver a sharp slap across his face to which he moans in pain.

“Look at me,” you demand. “Look at me or I stop.”

Your arms hold onto his shoulders from beneath him. This allows you to fuck his length deeper into yourself. Both chests clash repeatedly and soon you feel yourself over the edge. His uncontainable noises motivate you further.

He takes a deep breath and keeps his eyes on you. More like— he tries to because they constantly roll back. Your slow your pace each time he does, making sure he looks at you when he fills your gummy walls with his seed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—“ he struggles to compose his words in the state of overstimulation that you put him in. “No more— no mo— no!” He moans when you begin to fuck yourself on him once more.

“No longer trying to keep those noises in?” The sloppy mess of his seed and my own whites leave the room smelling like sex.

“Fu— fuck— y-you—“ he manages to spit out in between gasps.

“Save your breath.” Your own eyes roll back as you almost finish on his cock for a second time, his little sounds only driving you to fuck him harder. Now you get what he means, atleast. “We have all night.”

[thesharktanksdriver]

Devils may love?: thirst for connection, tearful goodbyes and trying despite the odds

Here’s part 2 by popular demand! I’m gonna start writing dmc1 soon and I shall be making a masterlist for this. Btw, comment if you’d like to added to a tag list or comment to give me ur opinions because I shall very much appreciate it and I love answering questions or geeking out over stuff especially with dmc now lol.

Links for: Masterlist, Part 1, part 3

Your not sure how your still alive 

At this point its illogical 

Vergil has the amulet and knows Dante will come after him no matter if he even has you alive anymore 

So why are you still alive currently? 

Not that your complaining per say but your severely confused 

Even that Arkham guy seems to be thinking it as well

Speaking of which the more you look at him the more familiar he looks 

You can’t quite place it though 

But it’s something with his face that’s familiar 

Well it’s something you’d rather not think to hard about when the guy is stabbed in front of you by Vergil 

If your opinion of Arkham was bad before hearing he literally sacrificed his wife to become powerful or something certainly made you internally cheer as he fell to the floor

Blood pooling around him as Vergil remarks he has no use for the man anymore 

And yet 

“Keep moving, lest I have to carry you again” 

It stirs you from your thoughts as the twin looks at you 

Wordlessly you nod, stepping past arkhams body 

When Vergil turns he doesn’t see you drip your foot in the man’s blood 

Intentionally leaving a trail for Dante to find 

“If….if you killed him can you kill the jester next?” 

Whatever Vergil expected you to say it seems like that wasn’t what he thought 

Though you hope your unpredictability is seemingly a factor keeping you alive

“Jester?” He scoffs “you mean my brother?”

At that you can’t help but raise and eyebrow “no, I mean the weird ass jester demon. The one with the long nose, and annoying penchant for appearing out of nowhere. Have you not had to deal with his annoying nagging yet?”

“Evidently no since if I had we wouldn’t be having this conversation” 

“Fair. restrains or no restrains though, I will be finding out a way to curb stomp him if he pops out of nowhere again” 

“You’re a human. If he’s a demon your too weak to kill him let alone make a dent”

You shrug at that “I might be nothing more than an insect to him…but it doesn’t hurt to at least try. That’s all we can ever really do anyways. Keep trying even if it’s meaningless because there’s nothing else we can do. It’s what I do anyways. Things get hard, parents kick you to the curb yelling to never come back unless you decide to give up your “useless” dreams and everything looks like shit” pausing for a moment you can’t help but smile “keep trying even though every job turns you away and you have to drop out of school to try and get a full time job to afford a roof over your head and food…and despite it all you find a sketchy job advertisement for a business without a proper name yet and somehow end up with the most obnoxious idiot with a heart of gold as your boss who annoyingly calls you “honeypie”. And even if his family drama gets you wrapped up in getting kidnapped and brought to a demon tower, you keep trying even when the situation is against you. Because maybe that’s all you have”

Vergil stays silent after that, just ends up tugging you closer as he leads you to wherever he’s headed 

Somehow trauma dumping on him was kinda reliving even if he would probably kill you later

Best get shit off your chest than leave it bubbling in you

A trail of red follows behind you for your red coat idiot to hopefully find you 

Fortunately if you did make it out of the your now a pro at washing out blood so your shoes would probably be ok

Walking closely behind Vergil the two of you enter a large chamber

Carved stone and a chiseled floor lead to the centre of the room

And at that centre was a circular basin?

Your not really sure how to describe it

Or this place in general

The tower was old, that was certain with its general architecture and material wise

But walking though the place there was also an odd sense of foreign technological aspects to it

It was definitely too advanced for humans especially at the time it seemed like it was erected 2000 years back or so

So with that logic it was likely demonic related

Which made sense considering the purpose of the tower in the first place

A thrumming sound echos before that of heavy footsteps that makes you turn around just as Vergil does

A demon, a big looking one as well that walked on all 4

“I found you, seed of Sparda!. I told you that I remembered your rancid scent! No matter where you run to. You can never hide from me! And what’s this? A human pest as well?” It walks forward, bloody red eyes bleeding out as a singular curved horn tilted along with its head movements.

Before you have much time to react its claw comes down towards you and Vergil, but the blue half-demon pushed you back as he jumped to eliminate his threat

You watched him fight Dante atop the tower and seen his cut down smaller demons on the way here, but seeing him fight truly was something

Clean slices compared to Dante’s showy flare

Landing atop the demon as it crumbled beneath his feet

“Y-you are not the one I faced before…but this smell…there are two of them! That excrement of Sparda had two sons!”

“Yeah bud, you didn’t figure that out by looking at him. He didn’t just change wardrobe-“

A clink of a sword and its head splits leaving a gushing waterfall of blood to spill onto the ground

Vergil flips off its back, now back to your side

A glow emits from the body, blue and blinding

Vergil extends out a hand and it pulls itself to him

Seemingly absorbing it a pair of gauntlets and boots that keep their blinding glow

You can only watch what happens next

Vergil shows off and kinda plays? With his new weapons??? Like Dante does???

He kicks around the demons corpse and shows off his new gear

All while you watch dumbfounded

You also swear he’s watching your reaction?

Getting a small flicker of pride after another show of moves?

Was this like…a fear tactic or something?

A threat to keep you in line and not to run?

Because you already weren’t going to do that

Not when demons crawled around and every corner and for some reason he still needed you alive and eliminated them

Why would you leave when at least for now he was your reluctant bodyguard?

A spray of feathers waft around in the air and cascade down around you as Vergil watches your reaction

Yet again for something?

His brow twitches and his near permanent scowl returns, maybe you didn’t look afraid enough?

Two perfect halves of a beautiful red stone combine to make one 

Two remnants of a mother lost come together in the worse way possible 

Blood rains down the ceiling into a small pool in the middle of the circular room 

You and Vergil watch with anticipation 

Gritting your teeth waiting for something 

Anything big to happen 

And yet nothing 

You wait for a solid minute with the very quickly becoming agitated Vergil 

And nothing 

The irritation and anger rolling off him is palpable in waves that rivalled tsunamis 

You smartly make the decision to try and take a few precautionary steps away 

Especially as he mutters to himself if maybe more blood was needed 

You take a particularly large step away at that comment 

Shit, maybe while he was in this mindset you could slip away 

Dante was surely not too far behind-

An arm slides itself in a familiar manner across your shoulders 

Nearly instantly making your stress melt away as red leather and the overwhelming scent of blood, sweat, gunpowder and cheap cologne invade your senses 

You’d never thought you’d be this happy to smell Dante’s disgusting ass work Oder 

Something that he knew got on your nerves when he got back from a job and would chase you around trying to give you a big hug 

Just so you could smell the disgusting mix of scents under the excuse of “come here and give me some sugar, i missed you honeypie. Oh how the hours dragged on and on from my departure-“ 

Every time he did it you had half the mind to choke him out but instead you alternated to spritzing him with water like a cat 

It worked surpassingly well 

He even ended up hissing sometimes like a disgruntled cat, though you assumed that was either his inhuman traits peaking out or him playing along with the bit 

The ropes that rubbed so uncomfortably against your wrists the entire time that it slowly became a numbing pain

It’s notable though when the rope is cut and falling to the floor with a small thud 

Allowing you to see the redness of chaffed skin that would probably blister 

Before Dante addresses his brother he seems to take a careful moment to look you over 

Blue eyes tracing your body though not with his usual joking flirtatious edge 

This time it’s worry 

Anxiety that looks too foreign to be on his overly confident face 

You step behind him when the two begin a verbal exchange

A verbal exchange that once more become psychical while you watch again from the sidelines 

Mentally halfway through you kinda check out from the exhaustion 

It’s been a way too long…however many hours you’d been stuck here 

To be fair you had better things to worry about like survival than trying to figure out just how long you’d been kidnapped 

And then an unfamiliar shot rings out 

Not from ebony or ivory 

But instead a new smoking barrel from a familiar face beside you 

Two toned eyes stare at you in a mixture of surprise and confusion 

Holy shit-

“Mary?! The hell are you doing here?!?”

“We’ll talk later.” She briefly looks at you but then directs her angered gaze to Vergil “You force my father into this and kidnap my friend?!” 

she joins the fray despite being told off by Dante

Joining in on the battle with a certain rage in her eyes 

Two toned eyes that you now realize were the same as Arkham’s 

You think you now get why she talked about her mom and not her creepy ass dad

Wait that means that means her mom was-

Clapping then rings out 

The familiar grating voice of the jester filling the stone chamber 

His annoying voice mocking Mary and then Vergil as he makes quick work of the two 

And in the brightly coloured demons place once more is Arkham 

Keeping up the creepy performance before changing back to the jester and slamming her face into the ground 

You yell out for her, wanting to race over but Dante holds you back 

A look in his eyes that makes you pause 

exhaustion that rivalled your own 

He’s been fighting whatever was thrown at him up to this point 

Stabbed, impaled, clawed, shot at and everything else your mind can picture 

Not to mention him just duking it out with Vergil moments before the clowns arrival 

As the long nosed bastard pointed out, their both weak 

Something even more apparent as he then curb stomps Dante into the ground 

The impact of which sends you flying to the floor like everyone else in the room 

He switches back to the bald bastard 

Explaining why it didn’t work despite the two halves of the amulet and some sort of blood of Sparda

Apparently they needed the blood of a priestess just as Sparta did to seal off the demon world 

Something that is then quickly remedied with the bastard stabbing his own daughter in the leg to obtain it

Because she had the blood of that sacrificed priestess, due to her being that woman’s descendant 

Red streams through the small canals in the floor of the room to the centre 

Pooling like a ruby lake 

He monologues more as the jester about his plan of making sure everyone duked it out 

Then turning to you with a yellowed grin 

Apparently he kept you around as an entertainment factor but grew tired of how Vergil kept you alive for some reason 

Something he chides the half demon for 

But he’s tired of you

The one rogue misstep in his elaborate scheme 

Something he was going to make quick work of correcting if not for the 3 others in the room getting the jump on him 

But a red glow fills the room 

A platform rises and he ascends as everything shifts 

He kicks the others off the stage but you 

Leaving you clinging to consciousness as it ascends 

You reach out a hand with blurred vision hoping for anyone to grab it 

At the top of the tower Arkham boasts of becoming the new god of this world 

Statues surround the circular platform as he struts around 

But not before giving you a good kick in the gut 

The strength of which sends you rolling across and hitting the pole that begins a mechanism to pull up several bells

Bells you’d once thought to be statues 

Looking behind you see city lights twinkle like stars dotting the night sky 

Clouds circling around 

How you haven’t yet died from the oxygen being thin is beyond you but you attribute it to either demon nonsense or adrenaline pushing you past average the human limit 

Maybe both 

Blood spills out your mouth in painful coughs

Of course he had to aim for the lungs 

And while you cough he says you should be grateful 

Grateful to see the new god of this world before he ends your existence 

Grateful you get to be the first sacrifice of many 

Grateful he’ll do it in front of Dante to give you a chance to say goodbye 

What an ass

The sky shifts as he names the seven deadly sins 

A hellish portal opening up above and letting red aura flow down into him 

Surrounding him as the wind howls and demon screeches join in a symphony 

He begins to float and your left to cling to the support holding the bell 

His laugh echoing out as he ascends 

It makes your stomach curdle 

Doesn’t help afterwards that you begin to follow him upwards as well 

You nearly puke 

Son of a bitch-

The demon world isn’t what you expect it to look like 

Less fire and brimstone with the scent of rotten eggs and smoke 

But more like weird impressionist painting of jutting stone, flowing water, diamond-like sky and purple 

Just purple 

Blue and red 

A irony not lost on you 

It would’ve made you laugh in a mixture of hysteria and dread if you weren’t 90% sure that his kick earlier broke a rib and it was currently jabbing slightly into your lung 

Something even more apparent when you drop down and land harshly on a jutting slab of stone 

Talk about a rough landing 

And rough time for your lung because that rib has definitely now punctured it a bit more 

Dear god if you survive this your hospital bills were gonna be abysmal 

Arkham stands not far away in the form of some sort of demon 

Large imposing horns and insect-like wings 

He monologues about how this was Sparda’s true form

It explains why Dante who just joined the show seems less than amused at the spectacle

Even having the nerve to call him a backed up toilet 

That gets a laugh from you, a laugh you regret a moment later when you nearly cough up a lung 

Damn your hysteria making stupid decisions 

And damn Dante for actually being funny for once 

The fight between them is a blur once more 

Clashes of swords 

Yada yada 

Your vision is getting a bit more blurry than you’d like to think about 

Black dots appearing at the edges of your sight 

But you find the will to stand 

To get up 

To try 

Because what else can you do beside laying there 

This entire time you couldn’t do anything but be a punching bag, hostage, potential therapist and yelling for Dante 

If you were gonna die you might as well die trying

You get up just in time to see the fucked up copy of dante’s dad melt away into some amorphous blob of spasming shape 

Purple and glowing 

And plain ugly and kinda more pathetic than anything 

This is what he spent years obsessing over 

What he scarified his wife for 

What he nearly killed his daughter for 

God you hated this guy more than anything right now and all you wanted was to see him die 

And by god would you try to kill that fucking clown if it was the last thing you’d do 

“Dante! Got any spare guns?”

Briefly turning away from his fight with the blob he sends you a smirk “Sure thing honeypie! Curtesy of lady!” 

He throws you the weapon you’d seen Mary with earlier, some sort of canon. Her blood still stains the bayonetta in which Arkham stabbed her in the leg with, a reminder of who’s place your also fighting for “this one time I’ll let that slip! Don’t think it’ll happen again though you ass!” 

With Dante taking an up close and personal approach it distracts Arkham from you 

Too occupied clearing the bigger threat than the sniper

But that doesn’t mean it isn’t messing him up 

You aim with your admittedly unsteady vision when he’s about to get a hit on Dante 

Distracting him enough for the red coat devil to evade and get a hit in 

Dante can’t help but make a few quips here and there 

Somehow finding ways to make even the shitiest of situations the butt of the joke 

It was perhaps his greatest talent 

And perhaps his greatest cooping mechanism 

Though beside trauma responses you’d 100% agree the complete joke of what was Arkham 

The punchline though is when Vergil arrives just in time 

Putting aside even his weird rivalry with Dante to beat arkhams ass 

Though not enough to not talk about retrieving his rightful power 

Baby steps? 

Well whatever it’s something you guess 

At least he isn’t stabbing Dante again and hurtling down into hell with you thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes 

The two work together nearly seamlessly to take him down 

Stabbing into the blob that is Arkham as you shot yet another shot at him 

All this combines in making him flail around 

The twins push their respective swords through him to the others side 

Either grabbing the others sword

Hacking and slashing once more at the pathetic excuse for something that was once a man

With only a shot left you line up a your final shot despite how shaky your body is 

Waiting at the right moment as the twins of Sparda slice at him once more 

And you pull the trigger 

Sending yet another explosive shot at him 

He screams out 

Dange pulls out ebony and ivory, spinning them before looking briefly over his shoulder to send you a smirk 

It gives Arkham enough time to send ebony out his hand though luckily Vergil takes it 

Sending his brother an unimpressed look 

But still sending the briefest of glances your way for a split moment 

A smirk on his face as well no matter how minuscule it was 

“I’ll try it your way for once”

“Remember what what we used to say?”

“DoNt dO iT”

“Do it!” 

Vergil crosses ebony over ivory, you see both twins smirk 

“Jackpot”

The bullets swirl around one another like ribbons 

Creating a blinding light as they collide into Arkham 

His final words once more about having the power of Sparda 

He dies like a pathetic loser, shocking really 

The man who obsessed over a dead guy for years, sacrificed his wife and attempted to kill his daughter died as a pathetic blob 

You have to agree with Vergils dry remark of his final words not being classy 

It gets a chuckle from you as you scale down the stone debris while ebony is tossed back to Dante 

The odd spirit water surges around your ankles as Arkham melts away

Becoming nothing in the end, a fitting fate for someone like him 

Above a gaping hole where the water pours into The two amulets and a sword fall into a abyss that both of them jump into 

But not before Vergil grabs you to drag you in with him 

Again

“Motherfucker again?!? Come on-“

The moment Vergil’s feet splash on solid ground your let go off and fall very not so gracefully to the ground 

He runs to the sword before Dante can get it 

Pulling it from the ground and gazing at Dante’s half of the amulet that his twin was able to snatch 

Two pairs of Blue eyes narrowing at one another 

“Give that to me” he extends out his hand motioning for the amulet 

At that Dante looks at the necklace before tucking it behind him “no way, you got your own” 

Children, both these men were god damn children 

Getting up from the demon water you safely decided to limp off to the side 

You smell a fight coming just like how you can smell rain before it pours

You’ve gotten your wish of helping kill the clown, now your letting them finish their business 

It already felt as if you were intruding as it was 

Better not get involved 

“Well I want yours too” the sword is pointed out to Dante as the two circled one another 

“What are you gonna do with all that power, huh? No matter how hard you try, your never gonna be like father” that taunt even from your distance seemed to piss off Vergil royally with how you see his grip tighten on the demon blade

“You’re wasting time!” He makes the first move, running with the blade held ready to strike yet there’s no clang of metal hitting one another hitting your ears all the while water coursed passed them, rushing off the cliff down into the unknown of hell itself. Instead both caught the others swords with their bare hands. 

“We are the sons of Sparda!” Both begin to push the others blade back “within each of us flows his blood but more importantly his soul!” 

At that both successfully push the other away 

Sending water spraying everywhere 

For a moment Dante’s eyes connect with your own 

You see a spark in them you hadn’t seen once before 

“And now my soul is saying it wants to stop you!”

“Unfortunately our souls are at odds brother” Vergil raises at hand up to his eye level clenching it dramatically as he continued “I need more power” 

Did these two both go to acting school at some point?

Was being melodramatic as hell a demon thing? 

Because this was borderline Shakespeare level dramatics 

Or maybe you were hallucinating this due to the blood loss

Or because you were tired as all hell

Or maybe because you weren’t paid enough to deal with this-

“And we’re supposed to be twins”

“Twins…right” 

They might not see it but you can definitely see how their both twins with how overly dramatic this all was-

Blades clash and the smell of iron and gun smoke fill the air 

Blood flies 

And your left to watch it all from the sideline 

The adrenaline was beginning to ware off as the pain of your body sets in 

Every breath felt like glass was pressing in your lungs 

Jabbing at every inhale and exhale 

Blood being coughed out in between the flurry of gunshots and swords clashing 

God this sucked 

You think back at your entire life up until this moment and wonder if this was worth it all

Back to your childhood filled with expectations already laid on your shoulders 

The loneliness of parents who brushed your passions aside in favour of a letter on a piece of paper determining your worth to them 

The way in which high school was stress upon stress with few things to relive it 

Things like Mary’s company and the few electives you got to chose of your own volition 

No complicated science equations or mathematical formulas to memorize 

Just your own passions 

Like that poetry class 

And then it comes back to that night 

Collage applications in their hands that they tore in front of your face 

The ones you had picked on your own 

The fighting with your parents 

The way they threw you out without so much as a second thought 

Just saying to come back when you became sensible 

When you’d abandon your dreams to pursue what they’d decide for you 

How you could see in their eyes they expected you to come grovelling back after about a week 

Begging for them to take you back in 

But then came that rush of resentment 

You wouldn’t let them win 

So you moved on 

Tried to live because that’s all you could try to do 

Even if it meant dropping out in 12th grade to try and find a job to cover for an apartment and necessities 

Even if it meant abandoning everything else to at least try and make ends meet 

Even if it meant getting rejected from place to place until you found that fateful advertisement 

And the pain in the ass of a boss you were currently watching brawl with his brother 

The same boss who made you laugh 

Who walked you home on late nights and looked after you that one time you got sick 

The red coat wearing idiot who’d always offer you a slice of pizza or spoonful of his strawberry sundae 

Grinning all the while 

The boy a the same age as you yet had lived more than a lifetimes worth of fear and trauma, the same one who’d cling to you in moments of silence like you were his only lifeline 

And maybe he was yours as well 

Anchoring you when all the thoughts of doubt began to set in 

Of what you lost when leaving home 

But then pulling you back to realize you didn’t loose much at all besides Mary 

Because you never really had a home, nor parents or security 

You just had yourself and the weight on your back 

A weight now gone letting you decide what you wanted to do 

No matter how stupid it was to stay at a store that still didn’t have a proper name 

No matter how idiotic it was to stay with Dante with the risk because

He was the one person who hadn’t abandoned you

Who didn’t give up to save you from this nightmare tower 

Maybe if you’d stayed with your parents your life wouldn’t have ended up this way 

You’d be stuck as a lawyer or doctor but you’d have avoided this 

Probably later on settled down at 25 with a match they’d set you up with 

Expecting grandkids by 29 or something 

All the while you lived like with a good paying job and maybe a decent person you’d have to deal with for at least the next 40 years

Yet Somehow the thought of that left you more unhappy than your circumstances now even with all the pain 

Because for as shitty as this all was you’d at least lived for yourself for once 

Taken the reigns of your life in your hands instead of them being in another 

And you didn’t regret that 

Not one bit 

Hell, the only thing you regretted was not punching Arkham in his stupid jester face 

Because even if you died here in pain and coughing up a lung 

At least you died knowing it was your own choices leading up to here and not those of your parents 

And that was a lot more satisfying than anything 

Especially when you got to meet the dumbass you called both a boss and friend named Dante, meet Mary again and talk about poetry once more 

Somehow that had made you happier than anything 

Water splashes once more yet there’s no more clatter of swords and your attention is diverted to Vergil kneeling in the muddied water

Blood mixes in it 

Though your unsure if it’s from your own or a mix from both from the showdown between brothers 

Either way it runs down past Vergil to Dante at the edge of the waterfall

This felt like the end of this all 

With heavy difficulty you get up, using a stone pillar to support yourself 

“Am I….being defeated?” It’s uttered in disbelief as he stares down into the waters reflection 

“What’s wrong? Is that all you got?” Dante moves forward in a mix of mocking and anger, “come on get up, you can do better than that” 

With shaky legs you move toward the red stained twin, nearly toppling over when the ground rumbled beneath your feet.

“The portal to the human world is closing Dante.” Briefly he looks to you, something flashing in icy blue eyes as you stood a few feet from Dante using Mary’s gun to keep yourself propped up“because the amulets have been separated”

“Let’s finish this Vergil” there’s a pause “I have to stop you. even if that means killing you”. The look in his eyes is something akin to pure conviction and yet in the small shake of his grip you could see the hesitation he steeled away.

You remember the nights in which Dante would tell you about him and his brother when they were younger 

He bragged he’d always won when they’d fight with wooden swords 

His bravado and general overconfidence made you remark sarcastically that you were sure that had happened 

Getting in response an arm thrown around your shoulder and him resting his head atop yours 

A complaint of falling from his mouth yet he still looked satisfied with himself 

The same grin 

The same blue eyes that peaked past untamed white hair with a certain nostalgic haze 

Yet now those eyes hardened themselves 

And you can’t help but both hope and dread if he was right 

If he really won all those matches as a kid when Vergil readies his blade and Dante readies his own 

They charge 

Boots creating large splashes 

Water rushing past them 

Dante running away from you and Vergil headed to your direction near the edge 

Both yell while charging yet all you can focus on is the water and sickening slash 

Metal glimmers at the perfect angle to create a horizontal line of light

And then red 

Red spews across the air and mixes once more into the water 

With baited breath you wait and neither move 

Until the pained groan of Vergil stumbles from his lips and his necklace clatters along with the blades 

He picks it up as Dante puts away his sword 

Vergil takes a step back 

Clutching the necklace in a near crushing intensity 

Trying to convince him this isn’t the way would be for naught with him 

Vergil is someone who’d died of his own stubbornness and with his ideals 

It’s something both maddening and something you can’t help but respect in a odd way 

“No one can have this Dante. It’s mine, it belongs to a son of Sparda!” He takes more steps back towards the edge, shit no-

“Don’t do it!” Despite the pain you push forwards, despite the fact you know you won’t convince him, once more you try

Dante realizes what he’s about to do as well, surging forwards as you did but you’re both met with blade pointed to your necks. “Leave me and go, if neither of you want to be trapped in the demon world” eyes flicked between you and his brother as he clutches the amulet tightly “I’m staying, this place was our fathers home”. He gets closer to the edge, nearing the tip off point.  He leans back as you and Dante move forwards, hands outstretched to try and grab him. Though one is cut whilst the other is left untouched. 

Staring down as he’s encompassed by the unknown of hell you keep your eyes locked with his. Though he was an ass, an egocentric focused on a vain goal of his own pride you still can’t help but cry for him as your knees hit the hard rock and you reach your hand out despite the fact he’s too far gone to save. Because for as much as he detested his humanity, he was undoubtedly human in the most tragic sense. He was human in his pain, human in his hate, human in the way he held a passion for old poetry and longed for connection even if he’d never admit it. And he was certainly human when in the last moments before he disappeared into darkness his eyes stared deep into your own. Widening ever so slightly at the fact you still outstretched your hand to him, that you cried for him despite it all.

In those eyes in those last moments you see the human longing for companionship, of not wanting to be alone anymore. Whilst in your tear stained ones he sees the truth of the matter. You wanted to save him. Both here as he plunged into hell and back when you warned him of opening Pandora’s box, you did it because you wanted to save him. Because For some foolish reason you cared for him. 

(And that sticks with him far more than you’d ever know) 

Blood stains your shoulder as he places a hand on it 

The one Vergil sliced yet was healing and closing into a faded memory if not for the slice on the glove as well 

It snaps you from staring down into darkness, hand still reaching to grasp a hand that you’d never hold 

It closes tightly, leaving crescent indents in your palm 

“Let’s go” his words remain empty. Gone is his usual playfulness or lighthearted tone. Just empty and desolate.

Quietly you nod, getting up once more despite the pain with a small grimace 

You’d rather not let him know right now how injured you are 

He lost his brother again for fucks sake 

Hiding your limp and the strain of carrying Mary’s weapon you watch him pick up the sword he and Vergil raced to obtain earlier 

It’s not triumphant in any sort of way 

It’s just a tragedy 

One giant tragedy of two brothers

The sky back home is darkened by clouds as the destruction of the tower and demons loom like a veil of grief 

Wind blows through now abandoned buildings 

And silence permeates just about everything besides yours and Dante’s footsteps 

You nearly cry when you see Mary 

Her mismatched gaze locking with yours after a brief moment of surprise 

“Phew, What an ordeal” Dante acts nonchalant but you know he’s hiding his hurt. Mary’s canon is slung over his shoulder after he saw you struggle in carrying it awhile back. “You’re still here?” 

“I need that back” her eyes leave yours to linger on her canon before returning to you “and I need some answers from you later”. You nod, and Dante goes to hand her back the canon-

He pulls back at the last second “no late charges I hope. I also let them borrow it as well though seems like they already have the friend discount” 

Mary hums, “I’ll think of your charge. But for them it’s free”. Getting back her weapon she handle it with care, slinging it onto her back.

Dante moves and you stand beside him watching the sky, “we should be fine for now. But I’m sure they’ll be back soon, very soon”. Your hand grips his coat sleeve, and you feel his arm shake slightly.

“Are you crying?”

“It’s only the rain” the answer is immediate and yet despite the cloudy sky no water poured.

“The rain stopped already Dante” it comes more like a pained wheeze which gains a concerned look from both of them. They look like they’re gonna stop their conversation but you just grin in a silent gesture for them to continue. they need this, Dante needs this, and you won’t let yourself be the reason they stop.

“Devils never cry” 

“I see….maybe somewhere out there even a devil may cry when he loses a loved one. Don’t you think?” 

“Maybe…” there’s the slightest bit of hope in the response that makes you smile ever so slightly as you grip on his coat goes slack and your legs give out.

Distantly you hear both of them yell your name before succumbing to darkness.

As a kid the only activity your parents signed you up for that you enjoyed in any capacity was choir 

It was a pastime that had you away from under their thumb 

A small haven from the empty crypt you called a home 

It felt nice being apart of something as a collective and not on a stage alone with the spotlight solely on you 

All the other activities they had signed you up for were individual

So the attention was on you constantly 

If you messed up it would be noticed 

And if you faltered for even a moment their eyes would scowl from the crowd 

But in choir it was different, You harmonized with others 

Joining together no matter how small your role was to create a beautiful symphony of noise that echoed in the halls 

A lot of what you remember is just vague notes and melodies 

Latin dripping from your tongue and becoming garbled to the sands of time 

But you can’t help but think back to one song though

It was old and fractured and broken 

You couldn’t remember the lyrics but you did remember the melody and solemn organ 

your choir teacher at the time insisted you all try it 

At least to give it a chance despite its broken nature 

That melody of garbbled sounds you’ll never know the meaning to stuck with you in the depths of your mind 

And even when you forgot how you knew the melody in the first place it had remained 

That minute long chorus into some greater song dances in your mind once more 

You hum to it 

Singing with it as though you were back in those piers in white robes and little angel wings 

A halo of golden tinsel above your head 

But in that mass of voices you hear a familiar one 

Dante-

It pulls you from unconsciousness 

At first you feel before you properly understand anything around you 

Soft material under you 

Something heavy but warm laid over you 

And the rough material of bandages compressing your chest 

Distantly you hear the song quietly sung 

And then comes sight and your met with the sight of the wrecked store 

The jukebox is busted 

Pool table in two with the balls scattered on the floor 

Desk splintered in half 

Drum set and guitar smashed in the corner 

The fan was in pieces on the dirty and broken floor

Yet somehow miraculously the couch you were on was alright minus the greasy pizza stains you’d failed previously to wash out

Trying to sit up is met with instant regret, a sound of pain escaping you 

The material covering you that you now realize to be Dante’s jacket falling off to the ground 

The song stops 

But with that came the jingle of a familiar chain to a necklace guarding a key to the underworld 

“Easy there, you need to rest up before you start trying to do anything. Doctors orders” 

Gently, hands that had killed so many demons and spilled such blood pushes you back into laying down properly 

Then draping his coat back over you 

Thankfully it seemed he had the foresight to wash it 

A small victory

“How do you feel?”

“I’d say like hell but that be ironic” 

That gets a small chuckle from him 

On the small couch he sits himself by your legs

Not sitting in his typical spread out manner to ensure you have enough space to laze comfortably 

“Where’s Mary?”

“Mar- oh right lady. She’s off to get you some prescription. I opted to stay here and make sure you didn’t wake up and start trying to fix the place when half dead” the last part comes out a bit harsh but you guess you kinda deserve that.

“Ah…what’s with you calling her lady?”

“Said she preferred that now….that Mary died a long time ago” 

It goes back to an awkward silence 

Your mind racing with thoughts

His as well with how he tapped his finger against his leg 

Silence permeates with nothing to fill it

It’s uncomfortable

Not like the silence you’d used to have sparingly with him, especially when he once had a need to fill it with something

Yet again a tactic he used to defuse nerves

But now there’s nothing

He wants to say something

He always wants to talk but now he genuinely wants to say something

Yet he holds back

Let’s it die in his throat when he tunes his gaze to you

Guilt creeping up in him evident by how he quickly then averts his gaze

Unable to look at you

There’s a moment it looks like he wants to reach a hand to you 

To place it on your leg as a means of comfort

Yet he hesitates Pulling back as if his touch would burn you

All the while you lay on the couch with him by your feet 

This feels so weird 

You want to move but you know the reaction and answer you’ll get 

So you lay there 

A pillow propped up against the arm while his jacket acted as your blanket 

And silence permeates for minutes on end as he sits there

Observant and looking as if a single sound would send him into fight mode

A bit paranoid even for his traumatized teenage mind 

The juxbox is broken 

So there’s no way he can play something to calm himself down

A habit you noticed when he was particularly stressed 

But maybe-

“Were you singing earlier?”

Your voice feels raw, you hadn’t noticed it until just now 

Like you had garbled sand into glass 

You can’t sing like this 

But maybe he could 

“Yeah, why?” 

“What….what was that song you were singing?”

“It was something my mom taught me, uhhhh something like “devils never cry”? They made it into a kick ass rock song-”

“I learned it in choir class, it was my favourite. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard it….can you sing it for me Dante?” 

He quirks a brow “you’re full of surprises you know. I’m not gonna lie and say I remember it well or that it’s accurate because I think it’s a translated version I was taught. but, whatever the patient wants I guess…All days, I'm looking in the Deep water flowing into me, Where are all tears, are they fallen? Tell me why I feel them in me? One day, they'll tell me what I'm exactly, Tears don't fall, I'll never heal them”

Mary- er lady helps with Dante in taking care of you 

Apparently after you passed out the two had rushed to a hospital while dealing with demons 

And your prediction of a rib poking into your lung was correct 

A bit too correct for your own sake 

Safe to say the bills were expensive and in the crossfire of all that your apartment wasn’t exempt from the destruction the hell tower you now learned was called the “temen-ni-Gru” had caused

Aka your building was destroyed in the madness and now you had to find someplace else to crash  

You’d be more upset if you had more to move and mourn

But honestly you had bare necessities 

And your apartment admittedly sucked so much so you were already looking for another place 

So for now you were crashing at the store 

That now finally had a name

Devil may cry 

A fitting name and much more easy to use instead of “the store”

Like you’d had to use for months up to this point 

Made you sound ominous when you said you worked at “the store” 

Anyways 

The two took shifts and turns 

One staying while the other went out to do whatever 

Presumably killing the few straggler demons that didn’t go down with the tower

Dantes been more silent than usual but at least for now you excuse it 

He lost his brother and now he had to look after you 

Not exactly a fun combination with the fact of the store needing to be fixed 

But with that comes talking with lady 

Catching up on what had happened 

And finally the talk you’d both been needing to have 

One seemingly long overdue when she sits down beside you 

Hands folded and the canon you now knew as Kalina Ann propped up on a folding chair 

You’d have to add buying new furniture for dmc to the list of stuff to do later 

“So….why’d you do it?” Lady is quiet, her words more like a secret than anything 

“Do what?”

“Run away?”

So they told People you ran away instead of them kicking you out?

You aren’t exactly surprised but did they really think it would make them look much better? 

A sigh voluntarily leaves you 

Depending on the lengths they went missing posters might be up 

You hope to whatever god there may or may not be that they wouldn’t that go that far

But considering this is the first time you’d stood your ground against them and didn’t come crawling back…

Well, control freaks will do what they can to reel you back in no matter the cost 

Especially since they were hinging on a cushy future in which they retired early and relied on you as an atm 

“Sure running away, that’s definitely what you call throwing your kid out to the curb because they won’t become a lawyer and saying not to come back until they changed their mind” the tone is slightly bitter but not aimed to her, moreso the circumstance

At hearing that you see her mismatched eyes widen a bit 

Pits of Emerald green and ruby red peering into that of your own 

Seeing truth and bitterness stew in them 

But at their core was sadness and hope 

Bitterness at the memories 

Yet a hope for the future 

Something she’d never quite seen in your eyes 

And it’s something you can’t see in hers anymore 

For the whole she’d been looking after you it’s been present 

Looming over the girl that had been your friend 

Grief

Loss 

And an overarching sense that she’s on the brink of collapse 

Can’t blame her either

Not after whatever she’s been through up till now 

All on her own after her mom died left to stew in anger 

Only for now the grief to hit her full force for not only Miss Ann

But also for the memory of what once was her family 

For her kind mother whom she talked about in earnest 

Who despite never meeting you always packed extra snacks for Mary to share with you 

For a father there but always absent

Nose stuck in his studies whom she talked of in hopes of earning his attention 

Until that faded as years passed 

And what’s left is a bitterness to the man who took everything 

Who tried to kill her 

Who killed her mom 

His own wife 

All for the sake of an obsession that would be for nothing because ultimately he only experienced the power he wanted for mere moments 

Leaving Mary the unfortunate victim in it all

You don’t have the right to continue complaining about your parental situation to her 

Not with what she’s experienced 

Not with what she’s lost in such a short period of time 

But her eyes are what stop you 

Brimming with emotion 

Two toned eyes of emerald green and ruby red 

They shine like jewels too 

Pretty and glimmering in the dull lighting of devil may cry 

“Why did you never tell me how bad they were to you?” Her question is quiet at first but gains volume from a faint whisper to a steadfast tone as she then asks “why didn’t you come to me when you were kicked out?”

“I just….at school and with you I wanted to be normal. I didn’t want to think about what’s at home when I walked through the doors I wanted to be my age for once, and I felt that way only with you till now.” As for that second question, it’s a bit of harder thing to admit to her let alone yourself “i was panicked…I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t want to be a burden-” 

“Burden?” It’s uttered in disbelief “how can you think like that! You’re never a burden to me! I was worried sick and they said you ran off! And I was alone and then I lost my mom”she pauses at that, going suddenly quiet as the words died in her mouth.

Your not really sure what to say after that 

Neither is she

She just stays motionless besides the shake in her hands

In all your years of knowing her you’d never seen her like this 

Even when she scraped her knee on the playground 

She’d always been strong 

Always held back tears even when her boyfriend in first year dumped her just before winter break 

Always had been the strong shoulder for you to lean on when you were upset 

And yet that girl is gone 

Mary is dead and lady is what’s left of that girl 

The bitterness 

The resentment 

the overwhelming grief of loosing both her parents 

And most importantly the loneliness of it all 

And your left to hold those pieces of her

Both emotionally as she breaks from the strenuous weight of everything crashing on her now 

And physically as you push past your discomfort and pain to hold her close 

She hesitates for a moment 

Unsure and unsteady 

But eases and pulls your closer 

Holding you as if you were her last lifeline 

Because in a way you are her lifeline 

You are the last good thing from Mary’s life that still remains 

And though that girl is dead, lady clings to that barest pinprick of light 

Because when being born again from rage and anger with her revenge now satiated 

What more does she have?

“I…I’m sorry” she’s desolate, quiet and a tad withdrawn until you pull her close. She’d always been the one you leaned on, but Mary was gone and it was time for you to repay the favour to what’s left of her.

“No, I’m sorry too. I should’ve contacted you, did anything sooner….i was scared and wanted to start over now that i had the chance. I should’ve thought of how you felt”

She’s silent for a few moments, but draws herself closer into your embrace. “We’re both pretty messed up huh?”

You can’t help but laugh a bit at that. “Yeah…guess we are. But we have each other again, and I think that’s what matters most right now”

She nods, and that’s all that needs to be said

….Well besides “I can get revenge on your parents-“ and “how about we talk about that later Lady”

He’s distant and stuck in his head more than before

It’s something that most wouldn’t notice since he tries to act like his typical self

Lady falls for it, though reluctantly because she doesn’t know him well but writes off why his smiles don’t reach his eyes

But you’d known Dante for about a year now

You’d known him long enough to notice when he’s off

It’s in the way his jokes aren’t the same

How he can’t properly look at you as he did before, with a sense of ease and joy that’s now damped

The drumming of his fingers and the thump of his boot against the floor creating soft creaks in the hardwood

you can tell whatever he didn’t say before was eating away at him

This wasn’t just grief (though that was still heavily apart of this) but rather something else that you can’t name until he was honest with it

Now, you wouldn’t particularly call yourself a confrontational person

You’d rather roll over than raise your voice or objection to your parents until that fateful night

And even then you mostly stood there being yelled at

You’d hardly name that a battle of words

But when it came to you, you wouldn’t do much to stand up for yourself

But this wasn’t about you

This was about Dante

And for as much as you could rot in silence like a forgotten fruit at the back of the fridge, you wouldn’t let Dante do the same

Not with how you see it absolutely eating at him

Just as it did to you before

Because you can see yourself so badly in him

And it hurts more than your currently broken chest

So when it’s finally his turn to stay with you while lady was out you take the chance

Because you can lose your apartment, your cold childhood home and what little shit you had

But you couldn’t lose him

You wouldn’t let him slip through your fingers and plunge into a different darkness that was all to similar to that of the hell Vergil voluntarily fell into

Not if you could do anything about it

“You’ve been more quiet as of late…”

“Really?”

“Yeah…”

It goes back to silence for a few minutes

This idiot isn’t taking the bait to air out his thoughts

Maybe you’d have to go the direct route instead

“So….are you gonna tell me what you wanted to say a few days ago?”

“Who’s to say I had anything on my mind”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at that, then reaching over to grab his shoulder. He was gonna run and you’re not letting him. “I know you well enough to know when you stuck in your head about something Dante…just please be honest and tell me. I don’t like seeing you distant like this”

There’s a pause in his actions at your touch, whatever was compelling him to run being stopped in his tracks. And then he answers “why’d you not say anything?”

“About what”

“Your injuries! You were hurt and on the brink of dying and you didn’t say anything about it!” 

“Dante you had just lost your brother. You had other things to deal with-“ 

“And I could’ve lost you too on top of that as well! Because I didn’t notice you were on the brink of dying and you didn’t say anything!” 

His eyes are clouded now in tears, glossy and making the blue shine like jewels

In any other scenario you’d admire the beauty in them

Yet all you see is pain refracted in the pools

Dante looks less his age and more like a scared little boy

But maybe that’s what he’s always been at heart

A scared boy still trapped in that hiding place as the house burned around him

Arms wrapped around himself to try and feel the fleeting warmth of his mothers touch

Loss drenches him to the bone

And you now realize that you’d nearly made it worse by brushing it off

But you can’t be fully to blame

Not when all your life you’d been raised to push away your own feelings

Your pain for others around you

And yet now he wants you to bare it to him

To ripe yourself open at its most tender

Because he was scared for you

Because he truly cared just as lady did

“You nearly died because of me, you were dragged into this because of me. Because I was selfish and couldn’t let go even when I knew it’d be dangerous. I….I shouldn’t have….you’d be safer if you left. Found another job and got away from here” it come out as a quiet whisper from him, his hair overshadowing his face and obscuring his eyes. You’d known him well enough though to know they were brimming with tears. You knew at the end there was also the unsaid notion of “away from me” Did this goof really think that after all this you’d leave? Knowing how much pain he was going through and had admitted to you he was scared of being alone again. Shaking your head your hand finds his, fingers linking together.

“You’re an idiot you know? You think I’m gonna leave you here when you still need me to remind you of the overdue bills? This place would go under if not for me. I’m not going anywhere” 

“I’m being serious here for once-“ 

“I know damn it, but you listen to me for a minute before you get it all up in your head and make a decision without my input” it’s a bit sharp but you need to right now, he’s spiraling and already trying to decide to push you away. With a groan you slowly lift yourself up, getting a sound of protest from him before you silenced him with your open palm telling him to stop. Hesitantly he does so, watching you struggle but eventually sit up, hand clenching his. “I’m happy here Dante” 

“Your happy here?” It’s spoken in disbelief. Maybe all your bitching had made him think otherwise but you did enjoy your time here, you wouldn’t trade it for the world or whatever cushy future your parents wanted. “Your happy here after all this? After you nearly died because of m-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there. We’ve had this conversation before and I didn’t know then but I know now why I want to stay despite the risks. Dante I never really lived before now. My life was made up for me and my outcome was predetermined before I was kicked out. And sure, maybe staying here is dangerous” you think of that future if you’d stayed and done what your parents wanted, an older unhappy version of you staring blankly in your mind “but danger is apart of life, you can’t live without it. And I’ve never been more happier, more free than I am here. So no, I don’t care about the danger I’m staying…understand?”. You see his eyes, they’re brimming with tears and more emotions than you can processed. But beneath it all you see Dante. The kind annoying dork who like his brother longed for companionship. His lips upturn ever so slightly as your free hand not entwined with his gently finds itself cupping his cheek, thumb wiping away a tear he didn’t realize had fallen. 

“I’m staying and I don’t intend on leaving anytime soon even when things get dicey….understand?”

“Yeah…loud and clear honeypie” 

You let the use of that horrid nickname slide once again with only a roll of your eyes. You’d never admit that it maybe made you smile, something you’ll deny vehemently when he inevitably brings it up later.  But for now at least it’s ok. 

You’re both gonna be ok.

“Hey Dante?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s good to be back”

…….“good to have you back hon-“

“Finish that sentence and I’ll make you sign all the work orders required to fix this place”

[quarterlifekitty]

thinkin bout lightly angsty sex post-kidnapping. some nefarious organization heard that there was some sweet number one of the boys had gotten attached too (you), and they wasted no time going scorched earth to get you back.

So. I’m gonna make this crazy ass. Fair warning. By the way, what do you guys think of as the sweetest number? I think it might be 3 or 4. Idk why.

cw: violence, trauma, Ghost not being a qualified therapist, dubcon

Anyways, imagine Ghost getting you back in his arms. While you’d always known he was in the armed forces, you never really knew any of the details. Now you’ve seen a little too much of that world. He burned the world to get you back, but it didn’t burn fast enough for you to escape unharmed.

You’re told it’s been six months. Six months you were kept in darkness most hours of the day, six months spent ducking in and out of cement rooms with ceilings barely tall enough to let you stand up straight.

Six months of being made to kill other prisoners if you wanted to live. Being attacked by others who’d been kept in darkness longer than you. Weaker, but angrier.

Ghost used to feel guilt over it— always needing you for comfort from the things he’d seen, while it seemed you never needed him for the same.

But now you need him more than you’ve ever needed anyone. He knows you, and he knows what it’s like to have blood on your hands that never washes away. He knows how the stench of rot can fill your nose all the way up to your brain, and how it can feel like the sun has the power to melt your eyes from your skull.

Half the time you cling to him so hard you break skin, the other half you claw and kick because you can’t bear to be touched.

He doesn’t have time to feel guilty over getting you into this. You need him.

Maybe it’s not the right thing to do, but it’s the only way he knows how to get you to settle. To relax. To go limp like a kitten caught by the scruff.

He holds you down and makes you cum until you can barely lift your head. He just wants you to feel good, to let him worry about all this shit going on, just unclench your teeth and give up. You don’t need to keep fighting, not when he’s here to do it for you.

You’ve spent years taking his mind away from all he’s seen and done. He’s intent on returning the favor.

[velvetdaisies333]

could you do jason dean dating a reader who’s shorter than him? fem or gender neutral is fine! :3

a/n: this one got a little spicy my apologies but hope you enjoy <3

-

Jason Dean Dating Someone Who’s Shorter Than Him (Headcannons)

-

I feel like JD would love to date someone shorter than him, though I don’t think he’d have a preference either way.

But if you’re shorter than him, it definitely would give him a feeling of power over you.

He’d definitely be a bit more demanding and demeaning.

He’d never seriously make fun of your appearance or things you can’t control.

But he’d obviously do it as a joke.

JD loves how his jacket would be bigger on you than it is on him.

“You look like 2 kids stacked under there.”

“Shut up.”

Loves loves loves when you ask him for help reaching something.

“Need help there, munchkin?”

“Yes please, but don’t ever call me that again.”

He doesn’t stop calling you that.

It’s his favourite pet name for you, besides darling, of course.

Doesn’t matter if you’re an inch shorter than him or multiple, he’ll still call you munchkin.

“We should get a munchkin cat, maybe it’s your long lost cousin or something.”

“Oh shove it, JD.”

“That’s what you said last night.”

“…”

“You weren’t this quiet last night either.”

“Get a job.”

Loves holding your hands during sex.

Like, above your head, pinned on the mattress type of holding hands.

During motorcycle rides, he tells you to hold on tight so you don’t fly away like a napkin.

“Coulda used a napkin last night, couldn’t ya?”

“What, for your face?”

“I can’t win.”

Loves tickling you because he knows you can’t get away.

But also because he likes the power he has over you since he knows you can’t get away.

“Bro, stop, please, I’m gonna piss my pants.”

“….Did you just call me bro?”

Hates when you call him bro or dude or anything of the sort.

It means you see him as your equal, and he doesn’t really like that.

He’s already got the height-power-thing against you, why do you see him as an equal and not above you?

Will probably ignore you for awhile just so you can apologize to him, wearing his shirt or sweater that almost completely drowns you out.

Again, the power thing.

“I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“…Calling you bro?”

“Okay.”

Probably won’t apologize to you though if he calls you something you don’t like.

Unless you’re really upset by it.

“…Sorry.”

Make-up sex goes crazy after things like this.

Definitely not into you being dominant at all, but if you really wanted to, he’d let you ride him but only if he gets to guide your hips.

Bro’s 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂.

He’d make sure you finish though, no doubt.

Loves the cuddles after where he gets to hold you.

You, in his shirt after a warm shower where he washed you and your hair, and he gets to cuddle?

No hesitation he says yes.

Loves to hold things above your head like those loser guys in the halls at school.

But he only does it so he can hear your ‘I love you’ after with a kiss.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[one-sunny]

HI I SAW U OPENED UR REQUESTS AND I LOVE YOUR WRITING SMMM <333

I’ve always thought Ace would be the type to yearn and pine but not make a move bc he thinks he doesn’t deserve love. That with an oblivious/awkward/reciprocating reader would be the perfect mashup of tropes 🤭

Undeserving

Portgas D. Ace x reader

Summary: Yearning, pining, and feeling undeserving. These were all far too familiar for Portgas D Ace, when all he wanted was the love just within his reach. sad Ace behaviors and desc. of anxiety.

thank you so much!!! and you’re absolutely right this is the perfect trope mashup for Ace i’m obsessed

Fire Fist Ace was known as a feared presence by many. A combination of his power, haki, and the respect he earned led to him being a commander to some. He was brother and son of the White Beard pirates.

But above all else, he was just a man.

The first time this reality came crashing down was during one of the many celebrations on the Moby Dick. There was a celebration for the first divisions successful mission, music boomed, booze flowed, and a grand feast was being devoured by hungry pirates.

Among this all, you sat by Ace’s side with a grin. At some point, during the height of conversation and an even heftier bridge, you turned to say something to him. Not wanting to fight the noise, you had grabbed his arm to pull him to you so you could speak in his ear. Ace felt himself short circuit in that moment and he never truly recovered since then.

Every moment, every touch, every time he met your eyes it sent his heart fluttering in his chest. He had allowed himself a brief time to feel. To let the strong emotion wash over him. To give himself the illusion that maybe, just maybe, he could give in to his feelings.

But the one thing Ace’s unconscious mind liked to remind him, he is the son of a monster. A bloodline to squash. The one person most undeserving of such feelings. Sure, he had Pops and the crew, but he couldn’t let himself continue thinking about having you.

Despite how well Ace believed himself to hide it, it was very well known among the commanders just where you stood in his heart. They saw the longing stares, the way Ace would smile wistfully at the sound of your laughter, how easily he would crack under your gaze. You always seemed to be within his line of sight during battles and he always ensured you had adequate medical care whenever you were injured. And, anytime you were called to a mission, Ace was on edge until your safe return.

The current time was a perfect example of this. Ace paces the deck with a deep frown, eyes tracking the sun, annoyance building inside of him as the day goes on without your return. He lets out a deep sigh as he slumps back against the railings.

“Worrying not gonna make them come back faster, you know?” Marco calls to him from the lower deck. Ace whips around, mouth gaping for a moment, before he nervously scratches the back of his neck.

“What? I’m not-“

“Don’t start, Ace.” Thatch chuckles a deep and hearty laugh. “You can’t fool any of us.”

“Except for Y/N, they’re pretty oblivious it seems.”Marco shakes his head. Ace begins to ramble out an excuse, that he’s got a lot on his mind, and how he had a chore on the upper deck. None of it had any meaning. Marco and Thatch share a look and mischief sparks in their eyes. “Hey, is that their boat?”

Ace’s hat nearly flies off of his head at the speed in which he whips around and a chorus of laughter fills the air. “Funny.” He mutters, tipping the brim of his hat lower to hide his flushed face from the other commanders. Ace turns to leave the deck for a moment of quiet, when Thatch calls him back.

“Ace, there they are.” Thatch calls out.

“Yeah, you guys already got me. Very funny-“

“No, you idiot, they’re actually here now.”

Despite all of the teasing, Ace turns, and energy fills his very being at the sight of your small boat in the distance. A bright smile lights up his face and he launches himself down to the lower deck. He lands before his crew mates, effectively ignoring their teasing grins, and calls the crew to aid in your mission return.

Ace ensures he is the first to greet you as you board the Moby Dick, offering his hand out to you in your final steps, and taking the backpack slung over your shoulder. “‘Bout time you got back.” He offers a sweet smile and you are quick to return it.

“I can only sail so fast, ya know.” You chuckle at him. “Not all of us have fancy devil fruit powers we can power a boat with.”

“Yeah, that must suck.” He tips his head, taking you in fully and attempting to detect any possible injuries. “Think I just missed having you around.” Your brows shoot up in shock at his blunt words and Ace instantly scrambles. “Uh, because ya know, no one else helps out with my pranks like you. Got, ya know, got boring around here.” Ace clears his throat and adjusts the hat on his head.

“Right.” You nod slowly, feeling a heat settling inside of you.

“Right.” He purses his lips. “You, uh, you should probably debrief with Pops. I’m sure there’s plenty to talk about.” You nod in agreement, moving to head that way, before you stop in your tracks. You turn back around and his breath catches in his throat.

“My bag.” You point to it at the dumbfounded look.

“Oh, uh, I can drop it by your room if you want?” He offers with a smile. As you look back at him, he notes the tired glaze in your eyes and the way your shoulders droop.

A smile pulls to your lips, “Yeah, that’d be great actually. Thanks, Ace.”

As you wander off, Ace turns to watch you go, and his eyes fall on the two commanders that were watching the interaction closely. He bristles when he meets their eyes and quickly runs off to drop off your bag.

And the next hour is grueling and Ace could no longer deny to himself that he was waiting for you. So he could see you and finally talk to you.

When he hears you call out his name, his heart rate leaps. “What are you doin’ out here?” You offer him a sweet smile and he finds himself easily mirroring the expression.

“Uh, nothing, just,” He shrugs in an attempt to seem nonchalant. “Waiting around.” Ace crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall, calm and causal.

“For me?” There’s a sickeningly hopeful tone to your voice.

“Uh,” Ace balks.

And that seemed to strike something in you, “Just, uh, just messing with you, Ace.” There’s a tension that seems to rise in the air and Ace feels as if his throat is thick as he swallows hard. He hated this. The awkwardness. The uncomfortable feelings trying, and failing, to be pushed to the side so you can both be normal again. “Do you know if dinners ready yet?” You prompt, rocking on your heels. “I’m starving.”

“Oh, i’m not sure actually.” Ace inwardly cringes at himself. “Let’s go check.”

When you enter the kitchen, you are called to the large group of crew members for the tales of your travels over dinner. Ace watches you go for a long moment with a fluttering in his stomach. It grew in motion until the fluttering was violent, knocking into his rib cage and gripping at his throat. To see you blending with the crew with that smile on your face- a gathering of people that he knew deep down that he didn’t even deserve.

It made his body run cold despite the living inferno that he was.

He offers a final, lingering stare as your hands move animatedly along with your story, before he disappears from the room. He was almost certain that you wouldn’t even notice. That no one would notice. The anxiety grips his throat with a power that he was more used to than he would like to admit.

The rest of the day is a blur as he makes himself scarce to the crew. All the way until the sun has set and the sea turns into a black void.

And he sits in that void instead of sleeping like he should be. He was certain that he would pass out in the middle of breakfast tomorrow but who was he to care. Many called him narcoleptic and Marco has tried to fuss over him many times regarding this, but Fire Fist was well aware that it was the insomnia that struck in the late hours of the night. He needed to take any chance he had for sleep during the day because the moon came with heavy taunts.

Ace can hear the light footsteps moving across the deck and he internally kicks himself for so easily recognizing them as your footsteps. Then, you’re dropping down to sit beside of him and propping your elbows against the railing. He spares a glance to see a tired daze about your eyes.

You meet his eye with a tired pout, “Are we okay?”

He bristles at your words, muscles tense, before he clears his throat. “‘Course we are.” His voice is a pitch higher than what he intended to. And there was no way you were missing that, eyes narrowing at him. “I don’t know, I’m just off today.”

Your finger absently runs along the railing with shoulders dropped. “Did I- Did I do something?” Your voice is low and distant. Ace feels his heart squeeze at this.

“You didn’t do a thing, okay?”

“Then,” You groan and drop your head back. “Will you talk to me? I know i’ve been gone for a little while but I feel like the two of us could always talk to each other before and-“ You wave a hand and purse your lips. “Things were just ugh earlier!”

“Ugh?” He can’t help but smile at this.

“You heard me.” You bump his shoulder but continue to avoid his eye.

Ace lets out a low sigh, tapping his fingers repeatedly, before casting his eyes out to the dark sea. Silence lingers for a long moment as he attempts to gather his thoughts into something rational. “Do you ever, just, feel like you’re cursed?” He can’t bring himself to meet your eye or even glance in your direction. “Like everything you want is right within your reach, but it’s somehow still out of grasp?” You hum in thought but allow Ace to continue rambling on instead of answering. “There’s so much more that I want, but it’s like I don’t deserve any of it.” He huffs. “At all.”

“What kind of things do you feel you don’t deserve?” Your voice is light and as delicate as the situation.

“Everything.” The answer is simple and straight to the point. “Pops.” His eyebrows furrow at the thought of his father figure. Because his real, biological father, was the root of many of his issues. He didn’t deserve Whitebeard and the man that he is. “The crew.” His brother’s in arms that would die for him, just as he would for them. “My brother.” His frown deepens at the idea of Luffy. Of the unconditional love that he provided while growing up. “You.” His words were barely above a whisper. Because above all, he felt like he was the most undeserving of your presence in his life.

You’re quiet for a long moment and Ace almost regrets his words. Then you finally speak up, “You don’t even realize how loved you are, do you?” There’s a sadness about your voice.

Ace can’t even form the words for a reply, a sound breaking in the back of his throat.

“I don’t even know how much my words mean to you, but I can’t think of anyone more deserving of what he has.” You shake your head as if annoyed with the thought. “You’re so, so good, Ace.” A huff. “So many people would put their lives on the line for you because you are worthy of love.”

“I don’t feel,” He swallows the thick lump in his throat. “Like I deserve love.”

“But you do.” You try to stress to him, leaning in a little bit closer and attempting to meet his eye. Ace pointedly stares into the void of the sea instead. You sigh lowly, “Look at me.” You urge to him, desperate to have him meet your eye for your next words. “Ace, please.”

His eyes flutter shut for a moment and he takes a deep breath, but ultimately meets your gaze.

You take a deep breath, “Ace, I love you.”

For a moment, he doesn’t react. His expression doesn’t change and instead he just looks back at you. You almost second guess if he even heard you until he shakes his head. “Don’t,” His head snaps back to look at the dark sea. “Don’t do that.” He lets out a shaky breath. “Please don’t.”

“But I- I- I do.” You stutter out, stamping down the nervous energy trying to creep up on you. Because he needed to hear this. To know what he means to you. “Not like I love the rest of them, either. The crew. You’re,” You gulp. “You’re different.”

“What?” His words edge on being harsh.

Your entire body tenses at the sound, but you push forwards despite this. “I’m in love with you.”

Ace drops his head into his hands, pressing his palms against his cheekbones and attempting to piece together the swirling thoughts in his mind. He had to be dreaming. Had to be witnessing a manifestation of his own delusions right before his eyes. The void of the sea playing tricks on him.

But your hand places on his bicep and pulls him back to the deck he was sitting on. “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have just dropped that on you when you’re feeling like this but-“

“You can’t love me.” He blurts out. “You’re too…” He waves a hand as he tries and fails to find the right words. You watch as the gears visibly turn in his mind, unsure if you were even breathing for a moment. “Too good.”

“Too good.” You chuckle nervously.

“You,” He begins, leaning in a little bit closer so your faces were inches apart. “You’re exactly the person I don’t deserve.” His breath is almost burning hot on your face. “You can’t love me because I would ruin you.”

“I’m stronger than you think.”

“But i’m not.” The words rush out of him before he can even process them.

You hold his gaze, unwavering. “Then it sounds like we need each other, huh?” You raise a hesitant hand, gauging his reaction, before ever so gently cupping his cheek. His skin is hot and you’re almost certain you catch a flicker of light start and quickly extinguish on his shoulder. “Because I know that I need you.” You lean in to rest your forehead against his.

Ace swallows back the tears that want to fall and stamps down the conflicting anger that is trying to bubble up inside of him. Instead, he allows himself to feel. To embrace you and pull you even closer to him. Your words heavily combatted the brutal thoughts he has held for years, but you were one heck of a fighter.

“I need you.” Ace chokes out, strong arms locked around your body. “I- I- uh.” He tries to force the words out but they keep getting stuck in his throat. You pull back only slightly to look him in the eyes, the absolute adoration and vulnerability he exudes in that simple look, and suddenly you catch onto something that has been manifesting for years.

“I love you too, Ace.” You mumble.

And when words fail, actions prevail. Ace closes the small gap between you in a searing kiss, allowing the emotions to pour out in droves to relay what he couldn’t bring himself to say. He feels you smile against his lips and that only makes him cling to you more desperately.

Ace reluctantly pulls back when his lungs start to burn, panting, but happy.

[sexlapis]

Cecil Stedman… I love that old man and your fics have sent me into the atmosphere. I request, a part 2 of the “cece” fic 👀 perhaps the reader actually does put him into like acucute respiratory distress. And it makes for an interesting explanation to the rest of the staff. OR after reader teases Cece abt his age he rlly shows her still got it.

respiratory distress

⟢ cecil stedman x gn!reader

suggestive. sexual situations. fluff. crack. cecil being old

⤷ simply put, you drive cecil crazy.

wc: 587

a/n: no wait this is so funny

masterlist

*

“Jesus christ.” Cecil huffs as he collapses beside you in your bed. His face along with his bald head is a bright red. He huffs and puffs, puffing out his cheeks. His heart pellets against his chest like a steam train.

He knew he should’ve stopped at round two.

He probably bit off more than he can chew, allowing you to use and play with his body however you saw fit, up to your heart’s content but he can never say no to or resist you - not your eyes that sparkle with mischievousness, your pillowy lips, your delicate, feathery lashes, the demanding touch of your hands, the sweet melodies that pour out of your mouth and your malleable, irresistible body. And then he’s doing whatever you ask, abiding by your every beck and call with the click of your finger.

He lacks so much conviction it’s pathetic.

Cecil didn’t think he was the type of guy to so easily give into sex, to be so overcome with lust. He’s the director of the GDA for gods sake, he should have some more self-control.

But when you peer at him with eyes hooded with desire, wanting and wanton, a look reserved for him alone, any questions or apprehensions flitter away like butterflies.

You’ve got him wrapped around your finger.

You grin at the after effects on Cecil. Seems like you did a number on him.

“Cece.” You hum, fitting your nude body right next to his. You place your hand in his quickly rising and falling chest. “Ce- oh my god. Your heart’s beating so fast. Are you okay?” You laugh nervously, a little bit concerned.

“No-no, I’m fine…just need a…few minutes.” Cecil wheezes out. He lets out a long, deep breath. “Jesus christ.”

You snort. A short wave of affection washes over you. Cecil acts so tough and stoic everywhere else and holds an immense amount of power and influence but he was really just your silly old man. One who reads newspapers every morning in his reading glasses, has the more than occasional knee or back pain and goes to extra lengths to hide his pin number.

That was your Cecil.

“You’re not gonna have a heart attack are you?”

Cecil closes his eyes. “Of course not-“”

“What do I tell the paramedics?

“Please stop.”

“No, no this is serious stuff!” You continue to tease, loving how impossibly red he’s gotten. “We should have lunch breaks in between rounds if it’s too much for you…extraneous exercise isn’t good for the elderly.”

Cecil glares at you.

You shrug. “Just a suggestion.”

Cecil huffs. “I’m fine now.”

“Are you sure? This gives a whole new meaning to ‘sucking the soul out of y’-“”

You yelp out loud yelp as the world briefly transforms into a whirlpool of limbs and bedsheets before you’re pinned onto the mattress. Cecil’s hands trap your wrists within his over your head.

He looks down at you, eyes lidded- still out of breath, face still rubicund and flushed - but now he’s domineering and far more confident than he was a few seconds ago, a dominant glint in his eye. What a sudden change.

“I said,” Cecil leans in close to you, lips a breath apart, “I’m fine. You think I can’t handle one little shit like you? Trust me, I’ve handled worse.”

Your eyes flicker, feeling shy under his steely gaze. Cecil can get like that sometimes; hot and cold, it makes him unpredictable. It makes him dangerous.

It’s tantalising.

“Why don’t you show me how you handle them then?”

He smirks at you, a rare action from him, hungry and wanting. “I thought you’d never ask.”

*

a/n: day 3 of wanting to get cecil pregnant.

[chaoisurmaster]

geto can’t take the hint

Wrote this probably a year and a half ago. Kind of proofread. Enjoy!

[9:48 p.m] You: I don’t like where this is going anymore. We’re over Suguru. Do not contact me.

One task for your Friday night was to break up with your current bae. You spent 20 whole minutes trying to type out a quick break up text. It shouldn’t have been this difficult, but you knew that no matter what, Suguru was not going to take it well.

You press send on your screen and quickly go to block his number. “That’s finally done.” You breathe a sigh of relief. “And I packed up all his shit in a box and I’ll give it to Satoru on Monday so he can give it to him. Works out perfectly.” You walk out of your room and head to your front door. You’re in the process of grabbing your coat and purse when there’s a knock on your door.

You’re frozen in place. Your heart rattling inside your ribcage. ‘There’s no way he would show up here that fast, right?’ Slowly and quietly, you move to the front door to look out the peephole, your chest heaves up and down as you open the door.

“Shoko! I said I would meet you at the bar!” You compose yourself. Calm washes over as she starts to tell you that she was in the area and decided to meet you so you can go to the bar together. “Geez, are you okay? You look like someone stomped on your hamster.” She teases as you two are seated and served your first drink. You thank the waiter.

“How would you even know what a person looks like after their hamster gets stomped on?” You quizzically glance at her as you sip your amaretto sour. She shrugs, “I have lore.” She takes a big chug of her beer. You laugh and roll your eyes at her. You two start chatting more about your work week and what each other has planned for the weekend.

“Oh look who just walked in. Over here!” She waves. You’re cursing yourself for being in the seat that has your back to the entrance. ‘Oh God, no.’ A large hand pats your shoulder and you turn, the panic subsides again, “Hey Yuki! Hi Utahime! Oh my gosh, Haibara!” You stand up and hug each one of them. You’re even shocked that somehow, Kento was talked into going out. “Wow, I’m gonna buy you a drink just for succeeding in what we fail to do Haibara!” You giggle.

Kento playfully rolls his eyes. “Have I really turned down everyone’s offer to go out for drinks before?” He asks. You all reply in unison, “Yes!” You’re feeling so much better as you get up to go to the bathroom. As you’re washing your hands, Utahime walk in. “Oh hey, Dumbass and Suguru just showed up. He’s ordering you another drink right now.” She casually mentions as she slips into the stall.

Your stomach drops to your ass. You just nod your head and dry your hands. You quickly rush out of the bathroom. ‘Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!’ You start to tell yourself that you can grab your things and slip out without being noticed. Your eyes widen as you get closer to the table and see Suguru, all smiles and making the group laugh. ‘Oh fucking hell.’ Satoru spots you and waves his lanky arm in a frantic manner, ‘Why is he so fucking insufferable?’ you think.

“There’s your girlfriend Suguru. You can stop crying now.” He laughs and Suguru shakes his head. “Hi pretty.” He purrs at you, as he stands up and kisses you. You’re like petrified wood and stupidly, you kiss him back. “Oh I took your seat.” Satoru throws in. “That’s okay Satoru. I ca—” Geto cuts you off, “Sit on my lap.” He sits and pulls you down. You fit perfectly on top of his thick, muscular thighs.

He snuggly wraps his arms around your waist. Such powerful arms, you know you can’t wriggle away. “Suguru…” you dip down and whisper in his ear, “Did you not get my text?” You ask. He looks up at you and smiles. “I did.” You’re equally confused and shocked. “Then what are you doing?” You ask. “I’m having a fun night out with my beautiful girlfriend and our friends. Oh look, here’s your drink I ordered for you.” He thanks the waiter and hands it to you. “And don’t worry, you can drink as much as you want tonight. I know you had two stressful presentations to finish at work this week. I’ll get you home safely and stay the night with you.”

He kisses your cheek. The group lets out a chorus of “Awes.” You sheepishly smile and sip the Long Island iced tea he handed you. He runs his hand up your back and softly places it on the back of your neck. You freeze. He seductively whispers in your ear, “I know you’re just stressed babe and your text from earlier didn’t mean anything. It’s okay. I’m not mad. Matter of fact, finish your drink and I’ll take you home and pamper you for the rest of the night. You deserve it.” He kisses your temple and you lock eyes with him.

You cannot, for the life of you, read him right now. His body language is relaxed, he doesn’t feel tense. His face has no signs of upset. He genuinely looks happy and unbothered. It’s scaring you. “Would you like that?” He asks as he rubs your back. You nod your head and quickly down your tea. “Ready?” He takes note of your empty glass. “Ye-yes.” You stutter. You two say your goodbyes to everyone. He takes your hand in his and you both walk to his car.

Being the gentleman he is, Suguru helps you in the passenger seat and buckles you in. He places a kiss on your forehead as he shuts the passenger door. Your hands are sweaty and your throat drier than when you and Shoko share two blunts to blow off steam. Suguru places his right hand on your thigh and you flinch a little. ‘Be fucking calm bitch!’ your inner monologue screams. “I’m sorry sweetie. Is everything okay?” His words were laced with concern. “I’m fine.” You quickly smile at him and look out the passenger window. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll take all that stress away as soon as we get to your place.”

He drives quickly and parks in your complex parking lot. You two take the elevator to your floor and make it to your front door. You go to search for your keys but Suguru takes his spare out and unlocks the door. “After you.” He smiles sweetly. You mumble a ‘thank you’ and step inside. He helps take your coat and shoes off. You hang your purse up. He places his hands on your hips as he comes up behind you and kisses the nape of your neck. The shivers that get sent down your spine could have frozen all the circles of hell.

You step forward and turn around. You put your arm out, an attempt to put some distance between you and your ex-boyfriend, er boyfriend? “Suguru, what are you doing?” You wish you sounded confident but your question came out so shaky that it’s pathetic. Suguru feigns innocence, “I’m here to help my girlfriend relax. Honey, I told you, I’ll help you de-stress tonight.” He takes a step forward and you take a step back. You run into the kitchen island and he puts his arms on either side of you, caging you in.

“That text I sent you earlier, I meant it. I meant every word of it!” You try to raise your voice but it comes out as soft as a whisper.

“Oh did you?” He coos, you nod your head. “You meant every single word of it?” he hisses as he presses himself against you, his lips mere centimeters from yours. Your bottom lip shakes and you’re fighting off the tears that threaten to cascade down your hot cheeks. Suguru notices it all and he pouts, he would never cause you harm.

You are the one shining piece he has in his life. He’s so utterly in love and devoted to you. Infatuated with you to the point where some people might think it’s unhealthy. Not him though. He adores you and anyone who says he’s obsessed in a bad way, just has never been madly in love before. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Did I do something to upset you?” He gingerly brushes the tendrils of hair from your face, “Talk to me pretty. Is it just work that’s bothering you? Am I not being a good boyfriend? Tell me what I did and how I can fix this?”

His words come out coated in saccharine. You swallow hard and shake your head to free you from the trance he had started to put you under. “This! I hate when you do this! You treat me like a goddamn 6 year old!” You push him away and you only are able to because he lets you.

You walk towards your room and continue, “You think I’m this delicate piece of glass that can’t tie her own shoes! You don’t even let me order what I want when we go out for dinner!” You scream as you turn around to face him. Suguru furrows his brows and puts his hands up, “Baby, I thought you liked when I catered to you like that. You’ve never said anything before,” he saunters to you, “You’re just so important to me, the most important person actually. I just want to make sure you’re taken care of to my standards.” He wraps his arms around your waist and looks down at you. “Wouldn’t I be a bad boyfriend if I didn’t take care of the love of my life?” he questions as he kisses your forehead.

You place your hands on his shoulders, “I didn’t say you’re a bad boyfriend—” he cuts you off “Then you don’t like when I spoil you?” He knows what he’s doing and unfortunately, you’re falling for it. “No! I love when you spoil me. I just—” he interrupts you again. “I spoil you too much then. Okay, I’ll dial it back.” He kisses the crook of your neck and kneads your ass with his hands. “Suguru, no that’s not it.”

A soft moan comes out of you as he pulls your skirt up and palms your ass. “Hmm okay so then I keep on doing every single thing I’ve been doing and don’t change a thing? Got it.” He rips your lace panties off you and you gasp. “I don’t thi—” his lips crashing against yours end your sentence. Suguru lifts you up to lay you on your bed. He discards the remainder of your clothes and his as he settles himself in between your legs.

“Suguuu...” you whine as he harshly spreads your legs wide open. He has a perfect view of that leaky pink pussy he loves so much. His mouth waters and he gets a little upset. Earlier you had believed you had ended your relationship with him and that means you would have taken away this sweet cunt from him. He makes a mental note to punish you another time for that. This time, he has to be sweet to remind you that there’s no one out there better for you than him.

“Mmmm there’s that pretty pussy I’ve been thinking about all day. My pretty pussy.” He places the pads of his thumbs on either side of your throbbing slit and spreads your folds open. He looks at you, “Isn’t that right love? She’s still mine?” He asks in a condescending tone but that’s lost on you cause you’re under his spell. You’re akin to a fly caught in a spider’s web. Fixing to be spun in silk and have life sucked out of you. You arch your back a little and whine. “Yes Sugu, she’s yours. All yours.” You bite your bottom lip. He bends down and softly blows air on your bundle of nerves. A louder whine slips out from your mouth.

“Princess…” he starts as he takes the head of his dick and taps it against your pulsing clit, “did you really mean what you said in that text earlier?” Suguru questions tenderly. You shake your head and whine at the slow taps. “Words pretty girl. Gotta use your words.” He sweetly tells you. “No Sugu. I didn’t mean it.” He slowly slides himself inside you and presses down on your womb at the same time. “Fuck! Ah ahaa!” You whimper at how he slowly fills you up.

“Then why did you say that to me baby? You trying to hurt my feelings?” He fakes a pout as he fully bottoms out. Suguru groans, “God, this pussy feels heavenly. She was made just for me. Only for me.” He breathes out. “Answer me, Princess.” He softly places a hand under each thigh and pushes your knees up by your ears. You moan out, “Sugu! Ngh—ah ah ah fuck!” Your eyes roll back as Suguru starts to propel into you at a snail's pace. You quickly look at him and shake your head, he gets mad when you don’t answer him, “I wasn’t trying to -oh shit- hurt your feelings. I promise.”

Satisfied with your answer, he thrusts a dial harder. “No baby? Then why did you say that? Have these three years meant nothing to you?” He questions again. He takes one hand off your thigh and licks his thumb, he starts using it to rub your clit. You close your eyes and arch your back again, the sensation causing your toes to curl.

Suguru smirks and he presses his thumb harder into your sensitive bud. “Answer me.” He demands. “I was just stressed!” You blurt out as tears pool in your eyes, “Just stressed from work! I’m sorry Sugu! So sorry. Please don’t be mad at me!”

He hums and takes his thumb off your clit and shoves it in your mouth. You comply and suck it, always so obedient for him and you don’t even know it. He takes his thumb out and goes to tweak a nipple of yours with the same hand. “I thought so Princess. I knew that’s what the problem was.” He starts to thrust deeper and harder. You can’t control the sweet sounds leaving your mouth and they’re the most beautiful harmony Suguru has ever heard. The louder you are, the better and don’t you dare try to cover your mouth.

“I’m — aah shit— sorry Sugu. Please don’t be mad —ah ah fuck, right there— at me.” You blubber out as the fat tip of his dick pummels your cervix. “Shhh Princess. I’m not mad at you. Not at all.” He leans down and kisses you sloppily. He can see you’re going crossed eyed. “All you have to do is just quit your job. Okay?” He rolls his hips and you can feel every vein on his dick rubbing against your plush pink walls. The squelching is getting louder and louder. “You hear me Princess?”

He looks at your face. You’re so fucked out already but some piece of you snaps you back and you answer him, “Yes Daddy. Qu—quit my job.” You grab onto his shoulders and he comes down to kiss you again. He presses his forehead against yours. “Feels s-so good. Feel so fu-full.” You moan out as he slams harder into you. “Yeah baby? Daddy making you feel good? You like that?”

He kisses you again. “Yes Daddy. Love it.” You’re babbling and he knows he’s won, “Love it when Daddy fucks me like this.” Your toes curl more and you clench around his thick length.

He groans and can tell you’re almost reaching your climax. “Just be a good girl for Daddy and he’ll fuck you like this every day.” He hisses as you clench tighter around him. “I’ll be good. I’ll be your good girl.” Your hands tighten their grip on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and leaving cresent shapes. “I’m cumminggg.” You whine out and Suguru starts slamming his hips harder into you.

“Cum for me Princess.” and that’s all it takes for you to be pushed over the edge of ecstasy. Your orgasm snaps and cascades over you in waves. The squelching is embarrassingly loud. “Fu-fuck!” You whine out and squeeze your eyes shut. “I’m cumming too princess.” Suguru groans as he sloppily thrusts in and out of you. “I fucking love you.” He kisses you. “Fucking love you so much. God, your pussy feels so amazing. Wanna live in this pussy.”

And he releases his personal ribbons of white inside you. You both are breathing hard and covered in sweat. Suguru slowly pulls out and you whine at the loss of his big dick. He stares lovingly at the mixture of your juices and his. A beautiful mess that only you two get to make together.

He lays down next to you and wraps his arms around you. You snuggle up to his chest and kiss it. “I love you.” You softly say. Suguru looks down at you and smiles, “I love you more princess.” He tenderly kisses your forehead.

As you’re drifting off to sleep you swear you hear him asking if you want him to cook breakfast for you both in the morning. You let out a hum that he takes as a ‘yes.’ Suguru smiles triumphantly. You have just, unknowingly, agreed to move in with him so he can always make sure you’re taken care of the right way, his way.

a/n: I had alot of fun when I wrote this! I love Suguru that refuses to accept a break up.

[otrtbs]

saw a post recently describing the marauder’s era fandom as ‘the worst mass delusion since the dancing plague’ and i was wondering what u think of all that? i don’t think we give jkr more traction which is what the post accused us of so i was just wondering your take is. i saw so many ppl agree with it and i was so confused (i realise u prob won’t answer this publicly but i’m too scared to ask off anon and i’m sorry for polluting ur ask box with this sort of negativity) love ahb! it changed my life

hi!! you caught me at a time when i had my computer handy so we're gonna have a little chat. you are NOT polluting my inbox and i think that these are important conversations to be had, so i'm gonna do my best to articulate my thoughts under the cut <3

i haven't seen the post so i can't really get into the thick of what that person was saying, but based on the context you've provided me here, i do wanna hit a few points.

i definitely grapple with the fact that my participation in this fandom can/could/and does lead to more traction (increased relevance/visibility/revenue) for jkr inadvertently. i think that the very nature of being in this fandom, in whatever capacity, but especially for me as a fic writer, means that i cannot sever myself entirely from her views and actions and act as if i am operating in a sphere completely free from her influence and traction.

i can make my stance clear. i can denounce jkr and her views, i can take actions to counteract the harmful rhetoric and real violence she seeks to enact on the trans and other marginalized communities. i can use the power of my dollar to ensure that she never sees a single cent from me. not from merch sales, or theme park visits, or new book editions, or lego sets.

but, at the end of the day, i can't agree with the sentiment that "we don't give jkr more traction" because we do. and i see it happening all the time. people in the marauders fandom still go to the studios, still buy official merch, still give her money. and the part where i struggle a lot....is in the way that fics and fic reading has become more promotional in content w the rise of tiktok fandom spaces. which, inevitably, may (and does) encourage people who once liked harry potter to re-enter the fandom in a new capacity. and i can't control what they do and how they spend their money and where they go etc. all i can do is make my stance clear, and put my money where my mouth is.

but i am always aware of it. that i have a harry potter fic out there and it's an easy read and an au so not hard to get behind if you're new to the fandom. i'm not out here recruiting people into this space, but sometimes, with tweets and tiktok posts that anyone can view, i know that it happens. and if someone stumbles across my fic and gets into the marauders and decides to watch the marauders reboot??? that's not something i can control. but it IS something i think about. a lot. all the little ways that being in this fandom can lead to more jkr traction.

i would love to be like "no! fuck jkr and i wash my hands of it,,, i'm not giving her traction." but i think that would be disingenuous and superficial. just because *I* am not giving her money doesn't mean that the collective *we* aren't. because *we* are. and my fics may help that along in minute but unignorable ways. i do my best to mitigate and counteract the potential harm, i'm starting to add notes in my fics and on my navigation asking ppl to keep comments/thoughts/opinions in my tumblr ask box and ao3 comments only and off twt/tiktok/ect but i also cannot confidently say that my presence in fandom doesn't provide jkr any traction. i was talking to a friend abt similar topics a while ago (s/o rae) and they were like "in an ideal world harry potter fandom would be like a closed practice and die out eventually" and yeah. exactly. but as it stands today, it's not a closed practice, and i think it's important to be mindful always of the impact you're creating. i don't think most if any of us here sit down to "promote" harry potter or the marauders but obviously, with the reboot that's happening, there is some influence happening there.

i love writing in this space, i love writing in this fandom. i love this little corner of the internet that we've carved out, i love the friends i've made in it. the stories that are being created in this space are kinder and more diverse and more reflective than the source material, and the fandom has brought me and many others a lot of really great experiences. but that contradiction (i reject jkr and her politics but i still create fics/art/videos rooted in her works ... or even if you eschew canon and work strictly in au's you're using her characters from the original text) is always there. and there are always going to be ties back to her. and i don't think it negates the value of the stories we're telling, but i also don't think it's something we can just ignore and pretend to be be innocent/ignorant of either.

okay this was so long and rambly but those are my thoughts. i think the topic is messy to grapple w for me <- girl who is horrendous at being articulate but hopefully this lays it out somewhat?? <3 kk love you never feel bad abt sending me asks like this beloved <33

[themeraldee]

Okay hear me out: to get Homelander really into the Vought Christmas spirit, you teasingly promise that you’ll always kiss him under the mistletoe no matter when or where. Of course, you’re picturing around his apartment or perhaps in an empty hallway. But no. Our boy loves a good promise and decides to carry a piece of mistletoe on him at all times, waving it above him whenever he decides he wants a kiss: in the middle of a meeting with the Seven? Sits back in his chair and waves it around like a bell. In the middle of a crowded elevator? Oh yeah, he pulls it out and clears his throat to get your attention and waits for his smooch. He’s such a dick about but you can’t bring yourself to give a fuck and will happily kiss him whenever he wants 😌

| 600 | Homelander x gn!Reader | Established Relationship. Fluff. Suggestive themes but nothing happens. Mistletoe kisses.

“Here, really?” You were giddy when you left the penthouse this morning, already high with the feeling of a hundred kisses descended upon your lips. Homelander shook the mistletoe right over the two of you right as you left for work. Knowing you had many more to come left you excited.

Now that you’re standing in the elevator, not so much. You quickly look around to note how many people are looking your way.

“You promised~” He says in a sing-songy tone, already way too drunk on this power you’ve presented on a silver platter. Taught to have zero shame, he’s not-so-patiently waiting for you to do your part.

You lean in for a short and quick peck and like the asshole he is, he asks for more. “Oh come on, that’s not very jolly of you.” You kiss him again, enough to temporarily tame his hunger for you and he relents with a pleased hum.

This whole setup puts Homelander in a great mood. A rare occurrence for the Vought tower employees. There’s a pep in his step with you on his arm, he’s whistling and boisterously exclaiming ‘Merry Christmas’ to any passerby. Of course, it’s less about spreading the Christmas cheer and a whole lot more about bragging.

But after the kind of Christmases he’s had, both corporate-washed and soulless, you can’t fault him for it. So you let him have it. However annoying he manages to be. 

In the middle of a meeting with the Seven, he whistles you over with a significant little shake to the wrapped bundle. Although it’s pretty embarrassing to kiss the head of the table while other people are talking he doesn’t relent and you still smooch his kiss-red lips for over a hundredth time today. 

You’d think you’d get annoyed by the shit-eating grin he throws you each time with a side of suggestive eyebrows yet you love him too much to care about how obnoxious the two of you are being. It’s starting to take the PDA levels to ones you’ve never seen from him before.

Nowhere is safe. Homelander doesn’t shy away from sneaking into a meeting you’re presenting in. Disrupting your speech and leaving you flustered and distracted for the rest of the hour. He kisses you in the halfway, by the printer, in the break room and by the coffee machine.

With the lead up to Christmas you’re really gonna need to invest in some heavy supply of chapstick.

When you finally find some peace and quiet in your office, you still smile when you see the door opening. Although the public kisses are fun, you much rather prefer indulging in private where nobody is there to watch the two of you get utterly lost in each other.

“Still haven’t had enough?” You crack a smile and lean back in your office chair.

“Of you? Nah, never.” Homelander walks toward you, you see the little bunch of mistletoe that at this point has really been through it. You start to get up at the sight of it but instead he wiggles his gloved finger in front of you.

You watch as he places the mistletoe right above his belt and you burst out laughing. “Leave it to you to make a cute Christmas tradition perverse.”

“Hey, it was your idea. I’m just playing by your rules. Kiss under the mistletoe, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

And well, who are you to take this newfound joy of Christmas away from him.

[hqbaby]

twenty — wheels on the bus

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2.3k content. profanity, mentions of sex

The rickety bus makes its steady way back to campus, creaking beneath the weight of the people inside, their things, the silence that they share. Save for Kento occasionally giving the driver directions, no one says a thing, everyone averts their eyes, refuses to acknowledge one another.

You’re sitting in the first row, squished to the window by Utahime’s sleeping form. Through the bus’ mirror, you can see that the rest of your friends dispersed in the seats behind you, most of them trying to stay as far away from each other as possible. 

Maki and Nobara are huddled somewhere in the middle, Maki awake and alert, Nobara dozing off. Satoru sits in between two couples, nervously glancing at Kimi sitting a row away. Sukuna is in the back, trying to look past the rows to catch a glimpse of you.

If anyone told you three days ago this is how things would end up, you wouldn’t have believed them. Who would?

“I’m gonna leave you here!” Sukuna calls out into your apartment. He stands at your door with his bag, tapping his foot impatiently and checking the time on his phone every few seconds or so. “Seriously, tiger! We’re gonna be late!”

You stumble out of your bedroom and down your hallway, dragging your bag behind you as you beam at your best friend. “I’m here!” you say brightly. “Let’s go!”

Sukuna takes your bag from you, despite your protests. “Just let me take your bag! The bus is gonna leave us behind!”

You giggle as you lock your door and rush after him. “Why are you so worried the bus is gonna leave us?” you say. “Is it because of that time in eleventh grade when you—”

“No, it’s not because of that,” he cuts you off, shooting you a nasty look for even suggesting that. “I just don’t like being late to things.”

You raise your brow at him. “Since when?”

You know Sukuna. You’ve known him since he was in high school and showing up to classes late, always turning his assignments in after the deadline, always materializing at plans you made with your friends thirty minutes after you were supposed to meet up. You know Sukuna, and you know that he is anything but punctual. You doubt the word even exists in his dictionary.

And yet here he is. Coming to pick you at your apartment an hour earlier than he said he would come. Telling you to move a little faster, pick up the pace. Doing everything in his power to make you stop doing unnecessary things like washing your mugs or folding your laundry—even going so far as to do those things for you so you can focus on getting your things ready.

“You’re acting really weird,” you tell him as you get in the passenger seat. When he shoots you a confused look, you laugh. “Don’t deny it. Do you just wanna ski that bad?”

He rolls his eyes as he starts the engine. He ignores you for a bit, driving ahead, thinking over his words very carefully. Eventually, he decides to just say, “I don’t want your friends to have a bad first impression of me.”

That makes you snort. “You know basically everyone going on this trip,” you remind him. “Aren’t you and Mahito friends? Actually, best buds last I heard. This is hardly a first impression, and I highly doubt it will be a bad one.”

“But it’s the first time they’re seeing me as your boyfriend,” he says, stressing the last words as that makes him sound less crazy. “I don’t care what they think about me, but I do care what they think about your boyfriend. There’s no way in hell I’m embarrassing you.”

You can’t help but coo at his words—teasingly, but still. Who knew Sukuna could be this sweet?

“‘Kuna, you big softie,” you say, a shit-eating grin on your face. He scowls at you and you chuckle, your hand reaching over to pat his shoulder. “You could never embarrass me. Besides, if we’re late, they’ll know it’s my fault. I’ve made all of them late at some point in their lives.”

He looks at you warily. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” you tell him. You raise one of your hands in promise. “I swear, I’ve made Kento late at least three times in the last year. He will not fault you if you end up late because of me.”

It takes him a minute, but Sukuna eventually seems to buy your words. “Okay,” he says. “But we’re not gonna be late.”

You giggle, pinching his cheek. “You’re so cute when you’re concerned about what everyone thinks about you.”

He glances at you, a small smile on his lips. “Only for you.”

When you get to the bus, Kento is standing by the door, looking very concerned. He sees you coming over and gestures to you to move faster, frowning.

“I’ll deal with the bags, you go deal with that,” Sukuna says, taking your bag from you. He pecks you on the cheek, a gesture that sends your heart pounding. There’s just something about how casual, how natural it all seems that makes you appreciate it all the more.

“What’s up, Kento?” you ask as you approach the man. “Did you forget to pack your emergency underwear?”

He glares at you, tapping the clipboard that he’s holding on his hand. “We’re in crisis.”

You look around, at the mostly empty parking lot, at the sun shining brightly, the trees swaying gently. “I don’t see the crisis,” you tell him. “Mind pointing it out?”

He groans, burying his face in his hand at your antics. “Will you please just help me?”

You grin. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” you say. “What’s the crisis, Kento?”

“A few extra people showed up,” he says, showing you his clipboard with a floorplan of the place you’ve rented. “There are enough beds for them and everything, but what with all the little stipulations—Mahito can’t sleep in the same room as Aoi, you can’t be in the same room as Kimi, all that shit—I can’t figure out the sleeping arrangements.”

“Who said I can’t be in the same room as Kimi?”

Kento frowns. “Well, no one, but I assumed—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you tell him, smiling. It irks you a little to know that everyone thinks you’re not mature enough to be able to sleep in the same room as your ex’s girlfriend, but you know that they mean well. “Give me the floorplan. I’ll figure it out.”

He shoots you a look, unconvinced. “You will?”

“Yeah!” you say, reaching out to take the clipboard. When he doesn’t hand it over, you try and get it yourself. It takes a bit of force prying the thing from his hand, but he gives in eventually. “Come on, Kento. You gotta enjoy the trip too, you know.”

“You’ll figure it out?”

You nod, leading him onto the bus. “I’ll figure it out,” you say, pushing him ahead of you and placing him in his seat at the front. “Now, relax. Be a stupid college kid for once, yeah?”

Utahime, who’s sitting beside him, watches your exchange with amusement. “Trying to get the big guy to take a break?”

You nod at her, the two of you treating the twenty-one-year-old man between you like a toddler. “He’s gonna have a blast. Aren’t you, Ken?”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Stop patronizing me.”

“Not patronizing, just giving you the break you deserve,” you tell him. You tap the clipboard on his shoulder. “I’ll pass this over to you when I’m done. Utahime, make sure he stops working.”

“I’ll try my best,” she tells you, laughing as you can basically see the steam pouring out of Kento’s ears. “You should go find your seat.”

You nod, ruffling Kento’s hair before you turn to the rest of the bus. You find Sukuna waving at you, pointing at your seat beside him, and you make your way down the aisle over to him.

As you walk, someone grabs your arm.

“Well, well, well, fancy seeing you here.”

The voice has your blood boiling.

“Naoya, what the fuck are you doing here?” you basically hiss, looking down at the man smirking up at you from his seat.

He shrugs and it takes everything in you to not punch him right then and there. “I love skiing,” he tells you. “Who am I to turn down a fun little trip?”

Suguru, sitting beside him, does you the pleasure of punching his housemate’s arm for you. “Stop being annoying,” he tells him, then he turns to you, apologetic. “He found out about it through Satoru.”

You soften a little for Suguru’s sake, but you’re still clearly on the defensive. “Oh,” you say. “And you came to babysit him?”

Suguru chortles, much to Naoya’s dismay. “Something like that,” he says. “I’ll try and keep him away from you.”

“Thanks,” you tell him. You glance back at Sukuna who’s watching this whole thing from a distance with a raised brow. “I should get going,” you tell Suguru. “Enjoy the trip.”

“We will!” Naoya responds for him as you snarl at him before heading over to your boyfriend.

“What was that all about?” Sukuna asks as he scoots over to the window seat. He has his eyes trained on Suguru and Naoya, the former now basically trying to suffocate the latter as Naoya continues to pester him.

“Just friends of Satoru,” you say, quieter than you intended.

Ever since you witnessed that confrontation between Satoru and Sukuna at the sign-up booth, you’ve steered clear of mentioning your ex to your best friend. You like to think that the two of you can talk about anything, from that one time Sukuna peed himself before a math final to the boy you were obsessed with in high school, but this seems to be a sore spot. One you’re not willing to unpack just yet.

“Oh, okay,” Sukuna says. He’s trying to appear unbothered, but you can see through his whole act. He places his hand on top of yours and squeezes it. “You’d tell me if they were bothering you, right?”

You smile at him, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Definitely,” you tell him. “And Suguru’s fine honestly. He’s been very respectful, always has been. It’s Naoya who’s…”

“A bit of an ass?”

You chuckle. “Yeah, something like that.” Deciding to change the subject, you place Kento’s clipboard on your lap and sigh. “Help me figure out the sleeping arrangements.”

Sukuna leans over to see the floorplan. He hums. “I think we should take the bedroom all for ourselves,” he says in a low voice. “Don’t think I can go three days without fucking you.”

You feel your face heat up and you slap his thigh. “You’re such a horndog.”

“Can you blame me? My girlfriend’s gorgeous.” He presses his lips to the side of your neck. “You know you’re beautiful, right?”

“I think I’ve heard something to that effect,” you giggle as he kisses your skin. You try to push his head away, but your boyfriend is relentless. You whisper, “‘Kuna, we’re in public.”

“So?”

Laughing, you manage to finally push him off. When you see the pout on his face, you give him a quick kiss and pat his cheek. “If you really wanna make a good impression on everyone, you can’t fuck me on the bus.”

“Fine,” he huffs. “Totally fucking you at some point during the trip though.”

You kiss him one more time, rolling your eyes. “Whatever you say, ‘Kuna.”

When you lean back into your seat, you freeze at the two people standing in front of you.

“Oh, hi,” Kimi is the first to speak, offering you a polite smile.

You manage to smile back. “Hi,” you say. “Are you, uh, are you guys ready for the trip?”

Satoru has his eyes on Sukuna, his gaze is hard. He turns to you and smiles too, albeit a little tight. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, we are.”

“Great,” you say, letting out an awkward laugh. You take Sukuna’s hand in yours. “I guess we’ll see you guys around.”

Kimi nods. “You sure will.”

As the two of them make their way to their seats in the back, you look over at your boyfriend, his cheery demeanor from earlier now reduced to a pensive look, one you’ve never really seen on him before.

You squeeze his hand, grabbing his attention. “Are you okay?”

His eyes dart over to you, wide, before he nods. “Yeah, tiger, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” you ask. You know better than to pry, but you have a feeling this is something you need to know. Need to ask. “Can you tell me why you and Satoru are so hostile with each other?”

He seems to be taken aback by that, but he tries not to let it faze him. “What do you mean?” he asks. “We’ve never liked each other.”

“Sure,” you say. “But you’ve been particularly weird recently. Did something happen?”

The words seem to be trapped in Sukuna’s mouth as he struggles to get the right things out. Eventually, he just settles for, “Nope. He’s probably just jealous that I have you now.”

You don’t believe him, but you say, “Okay… If you say so.”

You drop the conversation and decide to focus on fixing the sleeping arrangements instead. You have a feeling there’s more to this story that you know, and now you find yourself scared to find that out.

You glance over at your boyfriend with his head leaned against the window, at Naoya a few rows in front of you—never a good sign—and Satoru a few seats behind you, Kimi tucked under his arm.

This is gonna be a long three days.

notes. IT'S THE SKI TRIP!!!! ARE WE READY??? i don't think i am 🫠

[zepskies]

Every Second Counts - Part 5

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: I thought about breaking up this chapter into two parts, but for some reason it didn’t feel right. I hope you enjoy the finale! I think this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for…

Word Count: 7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, ‘90s movie reference, mutual pining and tension, and a strong dose of smut.

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 5: “Damn Worth It”

You borrowed Russell’s cell to call Dory from the hospital. You let her know that Charlie was stable and resting, and that Russell was bringing you home.

You should’ve known that when you two got there, you wouldn’t have the kind of privacy you craved. Colter and Dory were waiting in his car, parked in your driveway. They met you in front of your house, where Dory pulled you into a big, swaying hug. She cried, you cried, and her brothers hung back to watch the warm scene.

Dory pulled back to get a better look at you. She hesitated to touch the bandage above your brow.

“God. Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” you sniffed, wiping at your face. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Dory actually had your keys. After she handed them to you, you took in a steadying breath, and you unlocked your front door without incident this time. You invited everyone in.

Even though you told her not to, Dory began straightening up a bit for you. She had Russell take out the trash while she washed the dishes.

Meanwhile, you pulled Colter aside in the living room. You led him to sit with you on the couch.

“Can I at least give you $1,000?” you asked. It was all you had left in your savings, but the man had literally saved your brother's life, and yours as well. “I know it’s not much, compared to what your jobs usually get you—”

“Please,” Colter said. He touched your arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you and Charlie are safe.”

You teared up all over again, but you gave him a smile and held his hand with both of yours.

“Thank you,” you said.

Russell happened to spot the cozy little scene from the doorway. He couldn’t help staring, and trying not to frown.

When Colter caught sight of his brother loitering (and that look on his face), Colter tried to hide most of his smile. He let go of your hand, patted your shoulder and stood. You followed him to the kitchen, where he went to check on Dory. Russell filtered in behind you both.

“Hey, wanna grab some lunch?” Colter asked his sister.

She gave him a raised brow. “Wow, my brother actually wants to hang out with me instead of rushing off to the next job?”

He gave her an amused look. “I’ve got some time.”

Dory was happy to hear that, but her expression dimmed when she turned to you.

“Would you want to go? Or do you need to rest?” she asked.

“Oh, I need to get cleaned up, and then sleep for about ten years,” you said. “But you go, D. Have fun.”

She frowned. “I don’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

“Well, she won’t be,” Russell chimed in. “I’m gonna hang out here for a bit, clean up and take little power nap myself.”

At that, Dory slowly smiled, both amused and suspicious. Her gaze slid back to you.

“Are you sure?” she asked. You read the double meaning laced in her tone.

“Yeah, definitely,” you said with a smile, and the beginnings of a warm blush. “You guys go ahead.”

There was a knowing gleam to her own smile, but Dory shrugged and gave you one last hug. She and Colter said their goodbyes to their older brother before they headed out. It left you alone in the house with Russell for the first time since this all began.

“Um, you can use the guest bathroom if you want to shower,” you told him. “Towels are under the sink, and feel free to borrow any of Charlie’s clothes if you need.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got a bag in the car with some stuff,” Russell said, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. “I take one wherever I go.”

“Smart,” you nodded. “Very prepared.”

A strange silence stretched between you two, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m just…gonna go clean up,” you said. “We can order some food after?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” he said. He was amused as he watched you scurry off, after giving him another smile over your shoulder.

Though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a small trill of nerves himself. It brought him a little bounce in his step as he headed out to his car to grab his stuff.

By the time you were done showering and drying your hair, Russell had ordered a pizza (and a side of fries). You padded out into the living room in an old college shirt and pajama shorts. He tried not to linger his gaze on your smooth, bare legs. 

“Sorry, forgot to ask if you’d want something else to eat,” he said. 

“Pizza is perfect,” you said. At this point, after almost a full day without food, you’d eat sliced bread out of the bag. You gave him a teasing look. “I’d ask you if you wanted a beer, but I’m afraid it’s not up to your standard.”

“Well, that’s okay. I happen to have brought a sample for you, just like I promised,” he said, with that grin of his you’d come to expect.

He retrieved a case of homebrew from his car, but you had to add some ice cubes into a tall glass before you joined him back on the couch. You poured the contents of a bottle into the glass.

“Sorry, I know this is sacrilege, but I can’t drink warm beer,” you said.

“I can’t fault you, though I didn’t really peg you for a pizza and beer kind of girl,” he said. He tipped a swig of beer into his mouth, right from a lukewarm bottle. He was a purist.

You quirked a brow at him and took another bite of your pizza slice. 

“Why not?” you asked, after swallowing a mouthful of pepperoni and mushroom.

Russell shrugged. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“No, no. I want to hear this,” you said. “What, because I teach college students?”

Russell looked over at you and leaned on his elbow, resting above his knee. 

“You’re a college professor with a handful of degrees,” he said. “I’ve got a GED and a give ‘em hell outlook on life.”

You shook your head at that. 

“We’re different. That’s not a bad thing,” you said. “And like my brother, you’ve fought for this country. You’ve saved lives, including mine. I’d say that’s pretty damn special.”

His head tilted at that. He didn’t want to remind you that, just like you saw today, he’d taken lives too. Perhaps just as many as he’d saved. You could debate the quality of those lives, but in the grand scheme of things, he knew what he was. A trained killer.

He rolled his shoulders, feeling a familiar weight.

You didn’t like the pensive look on his face, so you aimed to distract him.

“Want to watch a movie?” you suggested.

Russell inclined his head. “Sure. What you got?”

That was how the two of you ended up finishing the box of pizza and a case of beer while laughing at Tommy Boy, of all things—one of the best '90s buddy road trip comedies of all time. Apparently Russell had never seen it before, but you enjoyed watching him experience it for the first time. He had a deep, infectious laugh that made you laugh just by proximity. 

Later in the movie, the reluctant, unlikely duo of Tommy and Richard hit a deer, and tried to transport it in the car. Russell both laughed and cringed when the animal woke up and thoroughly wrecked the car from the inside. You noticed his reaction and nudged him in the arm. 

Russell held in a grunt of pain when you unintentionally hit his injured shoulder, bandaged underneath his gray henley. 

“What if that was the Chevelle,” you teased. 

He cast you a playfully chiding look. “Woman, don’t even joke.”

You laughed and squeezed his forearm in a friendly gesture. But he thought there was more than just friendliness when you shot him that little smile. He decided to take a chance. 

“Come ‘ere,” he said. He slid a hand around your waist and guided you closer until you came to lay against his side. You allowed yourself to rest against him, splaying your hand flat against the firm wall of his chest. Your heart tripped up faster, but you also relaxed more fully for the first time since you got home. You let out a long breath, and you used the remote to lower the volume on the movie a little.

“Do you think Charlie will be able to get past this?” you asked quietly. “Think he’ll be okay?”

Russell hummed as he thought back to his conversation with your brother in the hospital. Charlie was still young, but he seemed to realize what he’d done, and what he needed to change. He wouldn’t have volunteered himself for rehab if he hadn’t.

Russell brushed your arm with his thumb. “Well, I think he knows what he needs to do. If he’s anything like you, then he’ll be all right.”

Your mouth tugged upward, though you considered his words with a sigh.

“He hasn’t had it easy,” you said. “He was barely eighteen when our parents died. Suddenly he had to be an adult. In fact, he almost didn’t finish high school. Had to take care of the funeral, had to get a job, had to take care of me…and I didn’t always make it easy on him.”

Russell’s lips curved in light of your faint smile. Then, your expression dimmed.

“He pulled me out of the car,” you admitted. Russell looked down at you.

“You all were there?” he asked. 

“My dad was driving. We’d just gone out to dinner as a family,” you said.

You hesitated as the scenes once again filtered through your mind. Some things were hazy. Others, you could see with perfect clarity. You remembered how your parents argued about the best way to get home while the pouring rain beat down overhead, half-drowning out their voices.

You remembered what the flash of a red stoplight looked like through the car window, with streams of water coming down, and a dead leaf stuck to the glass.

You remembered the sound of horns blaring in your ears, the crunch of metal on metal. Your mother’s scream. The feeling of being suspended, and then ricocheted painfully through time and space.

Then the smell of exhaust, and the metallic tang of blood.

“We were heading through a terrible storm,” you said, after letting out a long breath through your nose. “By the end of the night, it was just me and Charlie in the hospital.”

He’d broken his arm, but thanks to him, the only thing you really walked away with were a few cuts and bruises, and the memories of that day. They were like old scars, painful and tender at the touch.

Russell shook his head, his brows knitting together. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “And I’m sorry too. I know you understand what it’s like to lose a parent.”

The movie played on as that new weight settled between you. Russell fell into his own thoughts as he continued to rub your arm in comfort. His own past wasn’t like yours, but he did understand some of your pain.

“How much did Dory tell you about how we grew up?” he asked.

You shifted a bit, so you could see his face too.

“I know your dad took you all to a cabin in some sort of compound in the woods, when you all were still pretty young.”

“He taught us to live off the land. Drilled us, really,” Russell explained, noting your raised brows. “Yeah, he was…well, a paranoid bastard, to be frank. We still don’t know all of why, and what drove him to move us out there.”

“Dory said he was…eccentric,” you said. Russell snorted.

“He was a piece of fucking work,” he said. “Half the time I hated him, if I’m honest.”

That part was hard to admit, even if it was true. Your hand soothed across his chest, more comforting as you listened. Russell’s lips quirked. He liked that about you, that you were willing to listen without judging him, or his family. Maybe that was another reason Dory seemed to love you so much.

“But one night, it was like he snapped,” he said.

For a moment, he was lost in the memory. His father’s anger, and the damn crazy look in his eyes. 

“What happened?” you asked quietly.

Russell glanced at you again. “I don’t think you wanna hear this right now.”

You shook your head. “No, I do.”

He hesitated, but that earnest look in your eyes got him. Still, he surprised himself when he actually told you. He explained it the best he could, the way he saw it in his mind’s eye.

Their mom had been missing, hadn’t come home yet. Then his dad had torn around the house like a man possessed, until he told them it was time to leave for their own safety. Dory had been scared, especially when he grabbed her, yelled at her.

That was the one thing Russell couldn’t tolerate. So he snapped, yanking the older man back and shoving him away. It was one of the first times Russell had ever defied his father.

Ashton Shaw left them then, heading out into the night and the rain. Maybe he’d realized what he was doing to his own kids, his own family.

Colter wanted to follow after him, but Russell stopped him. Being the eldest, he took on the responsibility, even if he’d been reluctant. We’re better off without him…

He was barely sixteen at the time, but Russell knew he’d seen his father arguing with someone—a man he’d seen before, talking with his mother. And then…

“I watched him die that night,” Russell said.

Your hand clenched in his shirt, reminding him that you were still in his arms, still listening. He remembered that scene, looking over the cliff to find his father’s broken body down below. 

“He fell, and I couldn’t stop it,” he said. “And to this day, I still don’t know what all that was about.”

He’d been reluctant to tell even Colter that it still haunted him sometimes; that night, and the not knowing.

You pulled yourself up further so you could meet Russell’s gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” you said.

The movie had long faded into the background, but at least it gave some white noise for the next heavy beat that passed between you two. His eyes eventually fell away from yours.

“It’s old history,” Russell said at last.

“It’s not just history,” you denied softly. “It’s your life.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just hummed in agreement. He encouraged you to relax against him again, with a warm hand on your back. You settled and released another contented sigh. Even though Russell’s story weighed on your heart, you did feel closer to him. It made you feel like you understood Dory better too, and even Colter.

Russell rubbed your arm. “You doin’ okay? You’ve had a long day.”

“Day and night,” you agreed. Your eyes closed against your will. “But, yeah…I think I’m okay now.”

At that, he smiled. He laid a kiss on your forehead.

“Good,” he said.

A few minutes later, Russell heard your soft, deeper breaths in sleep. He chanced grabbing a throw blanket laid over the back of the couch. He managed to toss it over your body, but he made sure it covered you. You shifted in your sleep and curled up more comfortably against him. 

Russell smiled down on you fondly. He’d learned a hell of a lot more about you in just the past couple of days, but ever since he met you, he’d been picking up on the important things. The things that made you the woman you were.

And he wanted more, he realized. He wanted more time with you.

That turned out to be the last real thought he had before his eyes closed on him too. 

Russell didn’t wake again until the credits on the movie were rolling near the end. You were still knocked out. So he carried you, blanket and all, over to your bedroom.

He smelled the remnants of your floral shampoo and body wash in the air, likely coming from the bathroom. It was an intoxicating mix, one that had infiltrated his nose ever since you came out of the shower today. 

It was only 6:00 p.m., but it might as well have been midnight. He laid you down toward the middle of the bed. There was still space on the other side. Very tempting.

She did offer, he thought, remembering what you’d said at the hospital. And yet, he hesitated.

Before he could make a decision, you made it for him. Your hand reached out to hook in his shirt. 

Russell looked down at your sleepy smile. 

“Get over here,” you said, tugging him downward. He chuckled and wrapped his hand around yours. He allowed you to guide him over, and he somehow managed to roll onto the other side of the bed without crushing you. 

“Reflexes like a cat, I tell ya,” he quipped.

You giggled softly. He took off his first layer of defense (his pants), leaving him in his henley and boxer briefs. He settled into bed behind you and slipped an arm around your waist. He fit in snug against your back.

“Mmm,” he sighed. His lips pressed behind your ear, smiling there. “Feels nice.” 

“Mhmm,” you agreed.

He couldn’t see your smile, but you held his arm in place. For the first time in a while, you weren’t alone.

In the early morning, you woke up to warmth and closeness. The man in your bed snored lightly, mouth parted in sleep while he faced you. You smiled.

How could a man who felt dangerous, in more ways than one, also make you feel safe? It was a wonder. Though when an idea hit you, you carefully slid out of bed.

Russell eventually roused in his own time. He blinked awake, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stretched out his limbs in your very comfortable bed. This sure beat rusty motel springs.

He realized that he was alone in the room, but he heard you puttering around the house. He allowed himself to doze some more.

A few minutes later, you returned to greet him with a couple of mugs, drawing him back into the waking world with the rich smell of coffee.

“Aww yeah, that’s the stuff,” he said. He groaned as he slowly sat up.

You laughed and sat beside him on the edge of the bed. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he said. His voice was deeper and rougher with sleep, washing down your spine pleasantly.

He accepted the mug you offered him. He took a sip and hummed in pleasure at its bold flavor. It wasn’t as sweet as he usually liked it, but it was exactly what he needed right now.

“I just did a little sugar and creamer. That okay?” you asked. 

“It’s good,” he nodded. And you looked good, he noticed, with your bed-tousled hair and an open robe over your tank top and little shorts.  

“Do you want to meet Dory and Colter for breakfast?” you asked. “Dory texted me this morning.”

Russell’s brows shot up. 

“Colt stuck around?” he asked.

“Yeah, Dory asked him to stay at her place last night,” you said. Russell hummed in response. 

A bit of an awkward lull fell between you. You’d felt bolder yesterday in the hospital, but now, you weren’t entirely sure what you were doing with a man who just slept somewhat-but-not-altogether platonically in your bed.

“Um, I’ll just…get ready then,” you said, pointing to the bathroom. “You…take your time.”

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah.”

He peeled back the covers and climbed out of your bed, away from the sheets that smelled like you. 

You watched him go when he headed across the hall back to Charlie’s room. You sighed and beat your hand against your own forehead in frustration. What the hell am I doing?

You’d literally invited him into your bed last night, but he hadn’t done anything more than hold you while you slept. It was incredibly kind, and it said a lot about him, despite his rough-around-the-edges exterior. You were just a little disappointed that he’d been a perfect gentleman about it all. 

You rolled your eyes at yourself. What did that say about you?

You shook your head and resolved to freshen up. There was still a cut that the ER nurse covered with a butterfly bandage above your brow. You cleaned it up and applied a new bandage. Then you put on some makeup to cover the ugly bruise on your cheek and the dark circles that lingered under your eyes.

God, look at me. You actually wouldn’t blame Russell for not being into you enough to make a move. 

A bit disheartened, you changed out of your pajamas to slip on a nice, but comfortable dress over your bra and underwear. Afterward, you paused to stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment. What exactly do you want here?

“Hey, uh—” Russell’s voice startled you, making you flinch. Maybe you were still jumpy.

He raised an apologetic hand. “Sorry. Just thought I’d ask if you want some toast or something. I don’t think my stomach can wait ‘til we meet up with Dory.”

You smiled faintly. “Sure, go ahead. Whatever’s there, you’re welcome to.”

Russell paused, tilting his head. There was something off with you. He saw it, and felt it. 

“Hey, you okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” you said, glancing away. 

Russell’s spidey senses began to tingle. He approached you and laid a hand on the counter, inches from yours. 

“You sure?” he said. He took in your hesitant face, then the pretty dress you had on. The color matched your eyes. Soulful eyes.

He smiled when you let him see them again.

“Can you see the bruises? I think I covered them up well enough,” you said. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror again, touching your jaw carefully. 

Russell’s hand raised to find your cheek, earning your attention with wider eyes. His thumb swept across your skin as you started to blush.

“You’re beautiful,” he said with a smile. “Don’t you worry about that.”

Your face warmed further, despite your smile. 

“Yeah, the makeup helps,” you quipped. 

“I didn’t say anything about makeup,” he replied. Though he grinned and made a show of looking closer at your face. “Although, have your lashes always been that damn long?”

You laughed, but he didn’t let go of you. Instead, his hand drifted down to your neck, cradling your jaw. His thumb brushed over your lower lip this time, smudging your lipstick a little. Your eyes met his, but they’d already lowered, to the path of his hand. You were tempted to nip at his thumb, or better yet, suck it into your mouth.

Perhaps he read the thought crossing your face. Because when those darkened eyes flicked up to yours, he finally bowed his head to kiss you.

You took in a deep breath, and you melted into his mouth with a moan of wanting. A craving from the depths of your heart, finally being fulfilled.

You didn’t let yourself think anymore. You gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. He cupped the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, and you let him in. You met his every kiss with the same fervor, claiming him right back, demanding just as much.

Your hands slid up his chest and helped him shrug off the green jacket first, then his shirt (Led Zeppelin this time). He hooked an arm around your waist and brought you flush against him, so he could turn you around and walk you back to the bed. 

You clung to his bare shoulders and savored the feeling of his warm, calloused hands burning up your thighs and ass, bunching the skirt of your dress. You helped him get it over your head and toss it onto the floor along with his clothes. 

As he held you by the waist, his gaze dipped for a moment to take you in, from bare thighs and hips and lacy panties, all the way up to your breasts cupped in your bra. Through panting breaths, you smiled and blushed at the heated depths of his green eyes. You felt like your heart was beating in and out of rhythm.  

But you managed to get a hold of your nerves long enough to drag your hands down his chest, down to his belt. You unclipped it for him and took your time in sliding the entire belt out of its loops. Then you let the brown leather fall to the floor. 

Russell raised a brow at you, smiling. Taking your challenge for what it was, he unbuttoned his jeans himself and aimed to step out of them, but he had some trouble when one of the pant legs got caught around his ankle and sock-covered foot.

“Shit,” he muttered as he stumbled a little. “Hold on.”

Unable to help a small giggle, you grabbed his left arm to help steady him. He hissed in pain, but he cleared his throat to cover it. You gasped as you realized what you’d done. You noticed then that he had a bandage tightly wrapped above his elbow, right below one of his tattoos.

“What’s this?” you asked in concern. You held his arm with both hands. “Did you get shot? Did you get this looked at when we were at the hospital?”

Russell staved off your questions with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay. This is old, just still healing up,” he said. 

You frowned up at him. “You got stabbed, shot, what? When did this happen? I thought you worked in private security.”

“A couple months ago. I got, uh, grazed. Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Sometimes the job gets a bit dicey.”

He could tell though, that you weren’t going to let it go easily. 

“Let me see,” you said, trying to peek under the bandage. Russell laughed and gathered you into his arms to stop your attempts. Your concern warmed him, but it wasn’t necessary. 

“I’m fine, sweetheart. I promise. Can we focus on the fun part, here?” he said.

Your brows furrowed. You opened your mouth to reply, but Russell saw the testiness in your eyes. He dipped down to kiss you, swallowing whatever snippy remark you were about to make.

You weren’t the only one giving into a craving here. Russell’s was bone-deep, molten in his blood, and getting to see you, to feel your soft body under his hands was already so much better than he’d imagined. His hold tightened on your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin.

A shudder ran up your spine at his touch. You circled your arms around his neck and let him continue ravishing you, then laying you down onto the bed. 

While you were careful about avoiding the bandage, your hand did drift down his arm, and further still, to palm at the straining bulge pressing against you. And Jesus Christ, did it feel generous. He grunted at your touch and paused with his lips against your jaw. 

“Well hey there, cowboy,” you said, adopting a more sensuous tone. “I had a feeling you’d be packing. What’s that, a .45, or a 38 Special?”

Russell’s eyes blinked wide. Then he erupted with deep laughter that made his shoulders shake. Aside from throwing a punch, your brother must’ve taught you something about guns too. 

“Well thank you, kindly,” Russell said, putting on a bit of a southern drawl, just to tease you. “But you’re about to find out, naughty girl.”

You giggled as he began to kiss your neck, languid and sloppy. He blazed a wet trail down the column of your throat and between your breasts. His beard rasping against your skin made you shudder a little, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, you quite liked that a lot.

He slipped a hand underneath you to unclip the black lace. You arched into him so he had easier access. 

He slid the bra from your body and tossed it somewhere behind him. Just as he’d imagined, you had beautiful tits. His lips explored each of them in turn, squeezing supple flesh and rolling your sensitive, hardened nipples with his tongue and fingers. 

It was a prequel, you thought, for what talents that mouth might have further down. You had to moan just at the idea, your fingers clenching in his hair, but also at the sensations he was drawing from your body wherever he touched. The man clearly knew what he was doing.

He traveled lower still and laid slow, occasionally nipping kisses across your stomach, hips and thighs. His fingers hooked around your panties and lowered them down your legs. You felt his warm breath panting against your thigh. You glanced down at him and tensed in anticipation. 

“Still good?” he checked, squeezing your hip. You smiled and reached for his hand. Russell gave it to you, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand in affection. 

“I think I’m about to be,” you said cheekily.

He smirked. His other hand smoothed up the inside of your thigh and slipped past your folds, finding wetness that already coated his digits.

“Goddamn. You’re soaked,” he said, just a hint teasing. “Bet if I put my mouth on you, you’d fuckin’ drown me.”

Again, he stopped whatever smart quip you were about to levy at him next when his fingers found your clit. You let out a gasping moan instead.

He decided that he already loved that sound. He endeavored to pull it from you, again and again when he began working you open with his fingers and pumping them inside you. He enjoyed seeing you writhe and arch against his hand. Your hands squeezed his arms, his shoulders, trying to anchor yourself.  

His thumb circled and strummed your clit in a rhythm only he could hear in his head, until you couldn’t help biting your nails into his shoulders when you came. You shuddered your release as your core throbbed with warmth and slick around his fingers. 

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he said. His voice rasped deep with arousal. “Wouldn’t even mind if you did drown me.” 

You huffed in response, unable to form speech just now.

Next time, Russell thought. He slipped his fingers out of you and licked them clean, making your eyes widen. He smirked and stroked your thigh as you came down, a shuddering mess.

After taking a second to regain your breath, you pulled him down for a kiss, both grateful and fueled by a passion you couldn’t put into words. What you felt for this man was instinctual, from the moment you saw him. And yet, it was also so much more. It was raw, and real, and maybe even beautiful.

The thought spurred you on as your hands moved with purpose down his body. Your nails caught at the waistband of his boxer briefs as you tried to roll them down. You got it halfway down his thighs, enough to let his hardened length spring free. You bit your lip at the mere sight of him. Goddamn.

Your hand slid around his cock, near its weeping head. You used the beads of wetness there to work your way smoothly down to its base. Russell’s body tensed above you, just before he groaned low in pleasure.    

You pushed at his chest to have him let you up. 

“Your turn, baby,” you said. It would be one hell of a challenge to get your mouth down that beautiful 44 Magnum, but you were more than willing to try.

To your surprise, Russell shook his head and guided you back down.

“Let’s pin that one for next time too. Wanna be inside you already,” he said.

You blinked, but then you nodded in breathless agreement. He kissed you deeply, devouring you with his teeth grazing your bottom lip. His tongue soon slipped out to soothe it.   

“Condom?” he panted, between kisses. 

“Oh, yeah. Um…bathroom, bottom drawer,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure why you were whispering. 

“Okay, two seconds,” he said.

He left you in the bed, quite literally hot and bothered, and very naked. You crossed your arms over your breasts on reflex while you tried to recover. Your core was still tingling, and your heart was beating fast, though you couldn’t stamp out the smile forming on your face. 

You heard the sound of foil unwrapping and clothed rustling. When he came back to the bedroom, you finally got a full picture of what you were in for. You unconsciously licked your lips as your gaze dipped down his body, and the indeed impressive package at full mast, and full display. 

A grin curved his lips when he caught you staring. He climbed back onto the bed with just a bit of struggle with all the blankets coiled about. He pushed a heavy blanket out of his way, accidentally shoving it to the floor.

“Back to business,” he said.

“Oh, yeah,” you agreed, and you welcomed him back, sliding your hands up his arms and shoulders. You hooked your thigh around his hip as he found his way back between your legs. Holding his bearded face in your hands, you pulled him in for another kiss that reignited you both. 

He sunk his hand into your hair and treated you to another slow, deep kiss. Until your thigh tightening around his hip urged him to satisfy what you both had been wanting and waiting for.

He grabbed your thighs and angled you higher. Then he lined himself up at your entrance. Looking into your eyes, your breaths mingling together, he sheathed himself a little at a time. A keening moan fell from your lips.

He started with shallow thrusts, giving you time to adjust. But that in itself was a torturous tease. It made the coil in your lower belly start to tighten again. Pleasure began to thrum inside you, ever slowly. Your head tipped back into the pillows with a gasp.  

“God, Russell, please,” you uttered. You squeezed his arms on reflex, your heels digging into his ass. 

“I know, baby. Gonna fucking wreck you, I promise,” he said with a grin. 

You huffed in amusement. That was a hefty promise.

Though a moan tore from your throat when he finally bottomed out, stretching your inner walls. He groaned along with you. His lips fastened to your neck as he gave you deeper thrusts.

“You feel so good,” you said raggedly in his ear, raking your fingers through his hair. You felt every damn inch of him.

“You too, baby. So damn good,” he gritted out. “Tell me what you want.”

He raised your thigh a bit higher, his fingers pressing into flesh.

“Ugh, fuck,” you gasped, as he hit a particularly delicious angle. “Whatever you want to give me.”

“You sure about that?” Russell asked, panting against your neck. Your nails dragged down his back between the muscles in his shoulders, hard enough to earn a halting groan from him.

You nodded emphatically. “Yes!”

His lips hinted at a smile. “Okay, hold on."

Before you could even respond, he pulled out of you all the way, just so he could guide you over onto your stomach. He pulled you up onto your hands and knees. As he ran a hand down the gentle slope of your back and around the curve of your ass, you breathed harder in anticipation.

“So damn beautiful,” he muttered.

You glanced at him over your shoulder. You unconsciously bit your lip as your heart couldn’t help but swell at his words. Russell met you with a look that betrayed his desire, making your lower belly tremble as well.

He parted your cheeks and slotted himself between your thighs from behind. You once again felt the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, and then pushing back in with one deep plunge. Both of you let out moans of relief at the feeling.  

Pretty soon, he was pounding into you deeper and faster than before. Oh, fuck yes…

You clawed at the headboard, trying to find something to keep you stable. Russell’s arm slid around you for a solid support. You held onto him right back with one hand while he continued to drive into you, earning each and every sound coming out of your mouth. He’d finally angled you just right, so he could hit that special spot inside you with every thrust. Your pussy clenched on him in response, making him grunt in pleasure. 

“Fuck, you’re close. I can fuckin’ feel it,” he said, panting. He laid a biting kiss where your neck met your shoulder. You cried out in both pain and pleasure, your inner walls once again squeezing on him. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, breathless. “This time, you’re gonna come with me.”

You reached back and tangled your fingers into his hair. He held you to his chest and squeezed your breast a bit roughly. You uttered a wanton sound. You dragged his hand down your body to part your folds. You used his fingers to press against your clit. 

He picked up your hint, and then took control, massaging you with his fingers. There you began to tremble from the inside out. Warmth emanated from your core and spread outward, down to your toes as you came even harder on his cock. 

Russell wasn’t far behind. His voice joined yours as his body locked up, and he spilled hot into the condom. You almost wished he’d come freely inside you, so you could really feel him. Regardless, your body was boneless when he lowered you down onto the bed afterward.

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

He chuckled and kissed your shoulder, before he fully pulled out. Panting for breath though you both were, you managed to twist onto your side and reach a hand for his cheek. Your fingers slipped higher from there, cupping the back of his neck. Your thumb swept tenderly across his cheek, and you guided him down for a proper kiss.

Russell obliged you, his lips meeting yours plush and wet. He brushed strands of your sweaty hair away from your forehead with affection.

Somehow, that last kiss was softer than all the rest.

One thing was for sure though. There was no way you two were making it to breakfast. 

“I kind of feel bad now,” you later confessed. 

You and Russell were taking a few minutes just to recover under the messy sheets. He held you while sitting up against your headboard. He almost craved a smoke. You’d given him a damn workout. 

He smirked at the thought. Admittedly, his mind was more on focused on the scenes replaying in his head than on what you were saying. 

“Dory doesn’t get to see you guys that often,” you continued, “and who knows how long Colter will seriously wait for us to get out of bed.”

Russell’s attention drifted back to you at that.

“Come on, it’s not like they know why we’re running late,” he said. You gave him a knowing look. 

“Are you kidding? They were already suspicious when you brought me home yesterday,” you replied with a laugh. 

Russell grinned and rubbed your arm. He knew you were probably right, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“Yeah, well. That was damn worth it,” he said.

You smiled. You rolled your head over on his shoulder, so you could see his face, but you became contemplative as uncertainty crept in. You let in a breath to gather your courage, and you decided to take a chance. 

“You know, drug dealers aside, Laramie isn’t such a bad place to live,” you pointed out. “We’ve got a movie theater, a couple good outlet malls, a new Tex-Mex restaurant that just opened down the street. I’m gonna have to find a new bar though.”

Russell smiled at you. He knew what you were suggesting.

He sighed as his amusement faded. 

“Look, even if I stay…” he hesitated.

He looked into your eyes and saw the vulnerability there. You were being honest with him, putting your heart into his hands. The least he could do was be honest. He covered your hand where it rested on his chest.

“If I’m on a job, I could be gone weeks at a time. I won’t be able to tell you where I am or what I’m doing. That’s gonna be hard on you,” he said. 

He knew his friend Doug made it work with his wife, but their relationship wasn’t without friction because of the job he and Russell shared.

“I can handle it,” you said firmly. 

“You just had a little freak out over a scratch earlier,” Russell pointed out, with a gesturing hand at his bandaged arm. 

“Okay, that’s different,” you said.

You wouldn’t say it now, but there were things that still concerned you about his job. You had a strong feeling that "private security" wasn’t all it entailed. However, after what he’d done for you, after what he’d done for Charlie, you knew that Russell Shaw was a good man.

There was something good here, and you didn’t want to lose it this time. You shifted in his arms, so you could face him.

“Look, we can sit down and figure all that out,” you said. “But do you want to at least try? Or…am I reading this wrong?”

Russell stared back at you ruefully. He raised a hand to touch your cheek, grazing your soft skin with his fingers. 

“No, you’re not,” he said. 

In fact, what he felt already ran deeper with you than he’d like to admit. He let out a long breath through his nose. 

“Okay,” he said at last. “If we’re gonna do this, let’s do it right, I guess. I’ll book a motel here in town for now. If things go well, I can…I don’t know, find an apartment.”

Your answering smile broke him down further, even as it warmed him inside. You turned over to circle your arms around his neck, and as an added bonus, pressing your bare breasts against his chest. You kissed his cheek with a happy hum. He laughed at your enthusiasm. He also accepted your sweet path of kisses that led to his lips. 

He groaned when it became not so sweet, with your tongue slipping hotly against his. His hold on your hips tightened.

“Uh oh. Baby, we can’t do this now,” he chuckled, even though your hand was already wandering down his body and under the sheets. You both were supposed to be getting ready to meet his brother and sister for lunch. 

“Five minutes,” you said against his lips. All the while, you were pushing him back onto the bed. You began to kiss down his chest, and lower still.   

Russell snorted. Right. 

But he wasn’t about to argue with you. He had a gut feeling…one that made him almost certain.

He’d found where he wanted to be. 

AN: Well, then! I hope you enjoyed the "happy ending." 😘 I always get a bit sad at the end of a series, but thank you to everyone who's followed the ride on Every Second Counts. Let me know what you thought of how it all shook out here at the end between her and Russell! 💜

Read the Sequel:

Want more ESC? Read the next one-shot, Lost Time (18+):

Summary: When Russell takes longer than usual on a job out of town, you realize how hard it is to live half a life with him.

▶️ Keep Reading: Lost Time

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[witchygagirlwrites]

Hold On- Pt 1/2

Kelly Severide x Reader

When Kelly hears about a threat at med he doesn't think he's gonna end up facing losing even more than the love of his life

Warnings: Gun violence, death of a child, shooting of a pregnant female

“Kelly!” you all but giggled his name out, he had you down on the bed and was teasing every spot he knew would pull a reaction out of you with his lips and tongue. He’d worked his way down your neck and was now kissing across your collarbone. “What baby? You really want me to stop?” he teased, blue eyes moving up to meet yours. You felt your face warm under the intensity of his gaze. God you loved this man. “Not really, I mean I’d much rather keep you in bed then send you off to walk into fires”

He smiled and pressed a kiss onto your chest “Love, you know I’m going to always find my way back to you if there is any way possible” you ran your nails through his short hair, teasing the grey locks and smiling when he nuzzled further into your touch “I know Kel, doesn’t help me feelings any about the love of my life being in danger every damn time he goes to work” 

“Well you know if something does happen and they can get me to Gaffney, Rhodes will do everything in his power to bring me back to you” he teased and you shoved playfully at his head “Do not use Connor to tease me!”  He laughed and moved up the bed, turning to lay on his back and pulled you towards him so you didn’t have a choice but to straddle his waist.

You crossed your arms and he grinned, gently unfolding them and taking your left hand in both of his. He ran a finger over your engagement ring “I promise you. I will dig my way out of hell itself if need be to be able to become your husband” you shook your head “I wish you wouldn’t take how dangerous your job is so lightly Kelly. I love you, I respect your job but you need to respect that it is a little nerve wracking” he nodded, “I know baby. That’s why I call you so much during the day, just to calm your nerves. I love you”

You leaned down to press your lips against his “I love you too Kelly” he grinned against your lips “We have enough time” you laughed and braced your hands against his chest, enjoying how the smooth muscles moved under your palms “Then don’t waste the damn time” he pulled you down to him and flipped both of you over “Yes ma’am”

You stared at the little plastic test in front of you. The two pink lines felt like they were staring back. You were pregnant, at least a few weeks from how damn dark those lines were. This wasn’t a faint positive by any means.

You took a deep breath, a smile working its way onto your face. Your wedding was in a couple weeks, maybe you wouldn’t have to get many more alterations done to your dress? At least you knew you hadn’t just randomly gained weight now, right?

A laugh escaped you at your own dumb little joke. You snapped a photo of the test so you could show Kelly tonight then wrapped it in a paper towel and threw it away before washing your hands and heading back out onto the floor. You had to hide your excitement or you’d give yourself away the moment Maggie or Connor saw you. They’d know some form of good news had come your way.

You were pregnant. You and Kelly were going to be parents. You couldn’t wait to tell him. “Soon to be Severide” you turned at the sound of Connor’s voice, a grin slipping onto your face “Hey Con” he smiled “You’re with me today, I got a couple pediatric surgeries so who better than my favorite peds nurse”

“Such a suck up” you laughed and he grinned “Gotta make sure no one knocks me out of place as your best friend” you shook your head “Never” and fell in step with him as he handed you the tablet that had the first patient’s chart pulled up.

‘So, big day’s getting here quick man” Matt told Kelly, sitting down next to him in the bays. Kelly nodded “Couple weeks, I can’t wait” Matt laughed “I never thought I’d see the day that you of all people would be downright excited to get married”

A broad grin slipped onto Kelly’s face as he shrugged “I guess it really does just come down to finding the right person. I couldn’t imagine my life without her now Matt” “I’m happy for you both and I’m honored I get to stand up there with you” Matt told him, patting his knee.

For it to still be early in the day the firehouse had been fairly busy so they were enjoying a little bit of downtime while lunch was getting cooked. “Where’s Gabby?” Kelly asked and Matt waved towards the door “Her and Sylvie are in there watching Cruz cook”

He nodded, pulling his phone out to send you a text. Just checkin in. I love you a few seconds later the bubbles that you were replying popped up then the reply came through I love you too

He smiled and Matt laughed “You’re adorable Kelly, really” and he threw his hat at Matt “Man, shut up” Matt grabbed the hat and tossed it back “I’m just teasing. It’s good to see. It is”

___________________

Kelly was running drills with squad when Boden walked to the door leading out into the bays. “Kelly” he looked up and the moment he spotted his chief he felt his stomach drop. Something was wrong. He didn’t know what. He didn’t know how bad, but he knew something was wrong.

“What is it?” he asked and Boden looked like he was bracing himself “There’s an emergency at med, there’s been a lockdown” he didn’t hear anything else Boden said because he was already running to his mustang.

You stood next to the bed in the hybrid OR, staring down the man that was threatening both you and Connor. He had brought his son in with a ruptured appendix but from what Connor could guess, the appendix had ruptured the day before. You didn’t even know how the hell the kid was still alive to this point.  “Save him” he ordered and Connor nodded “I’ll do everything I can but you need to surrender to the police” the man currently had a gun in his hand.

He shook his head and raised the gun towards you “Save my son or I kill your nurse” you swallowed hard, your thoughts immediately going to the baby  “Please, I just found out I’m pregnant this morning. I haven’t even told my fiance” “What?” Connor asked, the look in his eyes had gone from worried to downright terror now that he knew it wasn’t just your life at risk but your baby’s too.

“Then he better do his job” the man spoke. Connor nodded “I will, let her go. Hold the gun on me. Something besides having the gun on a pregnant woman” “Connor you can’t operate alone” you reminded him, swallowing hard from where you stood across the table. You slowly met Connor’s eyes “Just concentrate. I’m ok” 

____________________

Kelly threw his car into park and ran towards the entrance of the ED despite the fact that there was police tape everywhere. “Severide!” he heard several voices calling his name. It was both Halsteads and Voight. “She’s in there” he barely got the words out. Voight nodded “We’re getting tapped into the security cams to get some sort of idea what we’re dealing with so we can form a plan. Come on”

He fell in with the older man and followed him. He walked over to where Burgess had a laptop set up on the hood of her suv. The screen went black then the footage of the ED, namely the hybrid OR came onto the screen. His heart stopped when he saw a man point a gun at you. His heart crumbled when your next words were  “Please, I just found out I’m pregnant this morning. I haven’t even told my fiance” he felt his knees go out from under him and he would have hit the concrete had Jay and Will not lurched forward and caught him. 

“She’s pregnant?” he whispered more to himself than anyone. Voight nodded to Jay “We’re taking control of this scene, fuck SWAT. We have our people at risk”  “I’ll get ready to breach” he nodded then looked at Kelly “We’re gonna do everything we can to get her out safe Kelly” “Please Hank” he pleaded, eyes glued to the screen.

_____________________

You handed Connor another tool, feeling your stomach drop with every bloody gauze. There was no saving this kid. The appendix rupturing was bad enough then he’d sat for over twenty four hours? His blood had gone septic. At this point Connor was just trying to keep his heart beating long enough in hopes that whatever cops were outside could figure this out.

You knew this, you just hoped his father just didn’t figure it out. “His B.P. is dropping” Connor spoke low to you and you nodded. You didn’t have what you needed to keep it up in the OR. If he flatlined….You were fucked. 

He was purposely staying between you and Connor too. There was no way out of this without the cops getting in before this kid flatlined and unless they made it within the next two minutes. You looked up into Connor’s eyes, feeling tears forming in yours and whispered “If something happens look out for Kelly, promise me” “Nothing is going to..” you cut him off “PROMISE ME” he nodded, tears in his eyes “I promise” 

The man was getting twitchy, he was either due for another hit or catching on. You could feel your hands start to shake slightly. You were engaged to the love of your life, pregnant with his baby and now facing being killed.

“Why isn’t his blood pressure coming up?” he asked and Connor didn’t look up “That’s normal” you nodded, “It is” he kept fidgeting, moving to shove the gun into your side “It better be because the little pregnant nurse probably wants to make it home to her fiance”

You stiffened and Connor glared at him “Come shove that thing in my side. I’m the surgeon, not her” “Yeah but she’s the one with a kid. She’s the one who deserves to die if my son does” you felt tears slip down your face.

___________________

Kelly watched the laptop, frozen to the spot. He knew Voight’s team was moving in. Connor was doing everything he could to keep this son of a bitch’s attention off of you but he could see just how fucking scared you were. He could see your lips moving and knew you were whispering something to Connor.

The next few moments seemed like they happened too slow and too fast all at the same time. He could see Jay come into view just in the corner of the screen. The man moved to look out of the OR, the kid flatlined and he saw the barrel of the man’s gun flash right before you hit the ground.

He turned and ran into the ED, shoving only god knows how many people out of the way. He ran past the body of the man and hit his knees at your side. “Baby?” he whispered and you rolled your head to the side to look at him, eyes full of pained tears as Connor snatched stuff down to hold pressure and screamed for help “I’m sorry Kelly” “It’s ok love, just stay awake” he tried but your eyes fluttered shut, the blood seeping through Connor’s hands as the medical team flooded into the room. They got you onto a gurney and wheeled you towards the elevator “We need to get her to an OR now and get ASHER!” 

He heard Connor giving orders but he couldn’t move. The love of his life and his baby. Was he going to lose you both?

Part 2