#but we'll get there eventually *finger guns*

[gold-kobold]

sorry for the #MentalIllness i'm still alive i swear-

[tomssexdoll]

Rescue me

"Are you fucking crazy? Do you know how dangerous that is? Especially for the both of us, I can't risk that, no way."

"Please Tom...for me, I need this."

PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader

CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: Tom's gang leader Jack kidnapped Y/N, he suspected that she was a spy, all because she was in the wrong part of town and checking Tom out while on the phone. Tom is forced to guard her and she forms some kind of bond with Tom while she's down there, eventually leading to her convincing him to help her escape.

A/N: SORRY FOR THE BLURRY IMAGE :(

WARNINGS: dom!tom, reader!sub, p in v (doggy), eating out, fingering, squirting, mentions of violence, knives, inflicting wounds on someone, kidnapping, guns, murder, blood, etc.

"Get the fuck off me!" I screamed, kicking and squirming in the grips of the 2 men dragging me into a basement, a dark, cold, dusty room filled with cobwebs and concrete.

I was a hostage, kidnapped by Toms gang, they suspected me of being a spy despite me begging and screaming that I wasn't, I was chained up in their basement, beaten and weak, bruises covering my whole body, Tom was the gang leaders handman, his assistant in his crimes, I sobbed weakly as Tom was forced to keep guard of me.

"You fucking assholes....I'm not a spy!" I kept screaming, but they just ignored my pleas and chained me up to the wall, my hands and legs enclosed with thick, metal handcuffs, connecting to a long row or metal chains.

"Fuck you!" I screamed in one of their faces, one of them finally snapping, "shut the fuck up! If you keep making a fuss like this we'll gag you!" he yelled back, his spit flying in my face.

I rolled my eyes and slumped over, "behave.." one of them growled, walking up the stairs, nodding to Tom. Tom just stood there, his arms behind his back as he kept watch over me, making sure I didn't do anything stupid, not like I could anyway.

They didn't want to kill me yet, wanting to torture answers out of me first. That's the thing though, I was never actually a spy, I don't know why or how they came to the conclusion that I was. I guess I was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

I was staring at Tom and on the phone speaking to someone, maybe that's why. I was only checking him out. As what felt like hours went by I grew increasingly bored, groaning and standing up, walking around the room where the chains would allow me.

I was happy the chains were quite long, giving me a bit of freedom. "What're you doing little lady?" Tom smirked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "What the fuck do you think I'm doing? Do you just expect me to sit there and do fuck all? No..I'm making it worth my time down here," I sighed, growing frustrated with him already.

"Might as well do something before I die, I'm sure it won't be long," I rolled my eyes, he raised his eyebrow at my outburst, his piercing gaze studying me carefully as he adjusted his jacket. "You seem to have quite the mouth on you, considering your current situation, I could kill you at any given moment," he chuckled darkly.

"Kill me? Yeah ok buddy, your leader would shoot you dead too," his face turned serious as he realized I was right, clearing his throat and just going back to being silent.

As the leader came back in, 2 men followed behind him, dark grins on their faces, excited for what was about to come. They both had 2 chairs in their hands, one for me and one for the leader.

"Okay, here have a seat," he sighed, sitting across from me, "my name is Jake, I obviously run this whole gang and I've pulled you in here because I suspect you're a spy," I scoffed, "a spy? why the fuck do you think I'm a spy, all because I was looking at one of your men for a little too long?"

"Oh so you know why we pulled you in here? Interesting..that's not something a regular person would say," he smirked, leaning closer. "I know it looks bad but I swear I'm not, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, please believe me," I grunted, growing frustrated with Jake's refusal to believe me.

"I think I may need to use more, violent tactics to get the proper answers out of you, don't I Tom?" he smirked, turning to Tom with evil eyes.

Toms gaze flickered between me and Jake as the interrogation continued, his expression a mask of cool indifference. However, his clenched fists and the way his muscles tense beneath his clothes suggest a barely contained anger, one not for me, but for the leader...

"Yes sir..." he mumbled, Jake took out a switchblade, flicking it open and dragging the blade against my skin, the cold metal sending shivers down my spine. "Please...I swear I'm not a fucking spy, I don't know how I'll get you to believe me but I'm not lying, why would I lie?" I whined, feeling the pressure of the blade pressing against my skin.

Toms eyes narrowed at the sight and he takes a step forward, his hand instinctively reaching towards his own waistband, forgetting for a moment the danger he could cause. He stopped himself, knowing that any sudden movement could mean disaster for me and him.

"Now, you're going to admit to me that you're a spy, or, you're going to suffer the consequences, ok?" Jake said through gritted teeth, pressing the blade down further, slicing my skin, beads of blood drawing from the wound, "ok that's enough! I think we should come back, we have a lot of work to do boss.." Tom spoke up, placing his hand on Jake's shoulder, his grip firm and tight.

"Alright then, you heard the man, be lucky he just saved you," he turned to me, a scowl on his face. When the leader finally rose from his chair, Tom stepped forward, assuring Jake he'd make sure I was in line. As they left Tom let out a big sigh, "fuck..that was intense, are you okay?" he bent down, stooping to my level and inspecting the bleeding wound.

"I'm fine..why do you care anyways?" I huffed, crossing my arms, the sound of the chains clinking together ringing in my ears. "Because I just do, you're lucky he stopped when he did, usually he doesn't take orders from me like that," he chuckled softly, grabbing a tissue out of his pocket and dabbing the blood off.

"I guess so, I don't even want to know what he would've done if you didn't stop him in time.." I sighed, watching as the blood slowly stopped spilling from my wound.

"I think it's cause you're a woman, usually with men he has no problem slitting their throats but with women, it's like he wants it to be slow and painful, something to do with his childhood I'm guessing," he shrugged, looking up at me.

"Jeez..." I grunted, "you have a lot of fight in you, I'll give you that," he slowly stood up, towering over me, his muscular frame intimidating yet oddly comforting. "How so?" I giggled softly, "well, usually they admit to being a spy because they'd rather die than be tortured, almost no one get's out alive with him, he doesn't play fair games" his gaze soft, nothing like it was before.

After 40 minutes of just sitting in silence, every minute excruciating, thoughts racing in my mind. How long would it be until he came back? Would my punishment be worse because of Tom? My anxiety grew increasingly high and I knew Tom could tell, giving me occasional worried glances.

Finally, he spoke up. "Is something bothering you? As stupid as the question is, you seem...unnerved.." he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "I want to escape, I don't want to keep waiting for him to come back, I want you to help me leave and I never want to see this place ever again," I sighed, looking directly into his eyes, giving him the impression that I was dead serious.

"But...what...are you fucking crazy? Do you know how dangerous that is? Especially for the both of us, I can't risk that, no way," he shook his head, crossing his arms and looking away, trying to avoid the conversation completely.

"Please Tom...for me, I need this," I said gently, trying to put him in a trance. Hoping a soft, calm voice would coax him into giving in.

Toms expression softened as he saw the desperation in my eyes. Without a word, he leaned down and wrapped an arm around my waist, lifting me up off the chair. He quickly fiddled with the keys to the handcuffs and unlocks all of them, freeing me of the constraints.

"There we go princess, cmon let's leave..." he mumbled, taking my hand into his. He slowly crept up the stairs, looking out for any signs of his leader or even gang members.

The bad thing about the gang members was their extreme loyalty, they already hated Tom for being able to secure such a high position and if they saw even a glimpse of what he was attempting to do, they'd immediately go to Jack, hoping they'd be replaced for Toms position.

The house we were in was eerie, full of black decor and expensive red carpets. Every step we took echoed around the room, the noise bouncing off the walls. He quickly lead me to the back entrance, somewhere where they'd come back after a big heist, a place no one could see them entering from.

We slipped out quietly, shutting the door and making a run for it, not wanting to waste any time. We were fully aware of how stupid, dangerous and risky this was but we just didn't seem to care, if we were going to die who cares, I was going to anyways and he was eventually, being in this line of work never resulted in anything good.

I ran off with him into the night, his hand in mine as I searched for a place to hide in. As I kept running I spotted a random abandoned building, deciding it was discreet enough for now.

Tom followed me, his eyes scanning the area for any potential dangers. Once inside the building, he found a relatively safe spot and sets up a makeshift bed for the two of us. He took off his jacket and laid it down on the ground, gesturing for me to sit.

"You're going to get in so much trouble Tom..." I sighed, slowly sitting next to him, resting my head on his arm. "You should've just stayed there and told them I overpowered you.." I looked up at him, "overpowered me? Like they'd believe that," he chuckled, softly shaking his head.

"Whattt..I could've had superpowers or something" I rolled my eyes playfully, a small smirk forming on my face. "Mmh, right, superpowers," he grinned, slowly laying down. I joined him shortly after, his arms snaked around my waist and pulled me into him, holding me like he didn't ever want to let me go.

One hand let go of my waist, slowly riding up to my head, he gently stroked my hair, his touch soothing. His voice was low and calm, a stark contrast to the chaos of the night, "I don't care about the trouble I'll face," he said, his lips brushing against my forehead.

"It's worth it if it means I get to hold you all night like this.." he whispered, I smiled, feeling a blush creep up my neck. I leaned forward and caught his lips in a gentle, steady kiss.

"Should we go to sleep? It's so late.." I giggled softly, my eyes starting to droop. He nodded, wrapping his arms around me tighter, his body pressed against mine in a protective stance. "Sleep..." he murmured, his voice filled with a tenderness that belies his tough exterior.

I sighed and fell asleep in his arms, despite the uncomfortable, hard concrete beneath us, it was pretty easy to fall asleep. As the night passed, Tom watched over me, his mind only at ease when I'm in his arms. He brushed a stray stand of hair from my face, leaning in to kiss my forehead.

The next morning I woke up, groaning at the hard concrete against my back, I slowly took his jacket that was wrapped around me off and sat up, my eyes widening as I saw Jake and his 2 men beside him. I shook Tom awake roughly, "Tom...wake up.." I said gently, my voice filled with panic.

"What...hu-" he cut himself off, his face turning serious as he saw his leader standing right in front of him, a big, evil grin plastered on his face. "I see, you two are finally up, great!" he chuckled darkly. Toms instincts instantly kicked in, sitting up and pulling me protectively behind him as he stood up to face the gang, "what the fuck do you want.." he glared at them.

"Such harsh words from someone I trusted so much, how unfortunate you turned on me over a...woman.." he said in disgust, as if I was the most ugliest create in the world.

"Anyways, we came to tell you that we've come to a decision. If you don't come back to us, we have no choice but to kill her, she has seen way too much and we don't need the risk of being exposed, like last time..." he gritted his teeth, I could tell he enjoyed my fear, a proud grin on his face with every word he spoke.

"But I betrayed you, wouldn't you have to kill me too?" Tom said, his voice laced with confusion. "Oh you think I'd make it easy for you? Let you guys reunite in heaven? No buddy, you'll have to suffer until the end of time regretting what you did," he grinned, his 2 men laughing behind him.

His jaw clenched as he listened to the threat, knowing he had to think fast of a way to get me out of here. "So, what will it be Tom?" he said, pointing to his watch, "time is running up, I don't like waiting, you know that."

"You're a fucking monster..." Tom spat out, "Cherish the last moments you have to hold her because she's ours now, I will do anything it takes, even if it means killing you" Jake said, glaring at Tom. He barked orders at his men to get me, Tom tried everything to fight them off but they overpowered him, grabbing me and taking me out the building

I screamed and cried, calling out for Tom as he was held back by the gang members, "Tom! Please!" I sobbed, kicking and screaming, trying to squirm out of their grips but it was no use, they just held onto me tighter.

"Let go of her now!" Tom snarled at the men, roaring in anger as he tried to break free from the others hold. His eyes met mine, the desperation and fear in them clear, "i'll fucking kill him, I swear!" he screamed, flailing around and trying to rip the men off him.

They shoved me in Jake's car, speeding off to their warehouse, I could hear Tom's screaming in the background, my heart cracking as I heard the pain and anger in his voice. As we arrived they grabbed my arms, dragging me inside and tossing me into a cold, dimly lit room.

They bound me to a metal chair with thick ropes, leaving me helpless and vulnerable. "Get away! Let me go!" I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks, "I told you I'm not a fucking spy what do you want from me?!" I sobbed, the veins on my forehead buldging out as I grew more frustrated.

"It's not about that anymore sweetheart, it's the fact that you turned one of MY men against me, one of my most loyal and trusted men. How did you do it, did you fuck him? Seduce him? I bet you did, you disgusting whore.." he spat, his words cold and cruel.

"You think that low of me? It was purely his choice, I did nothing to influence him!" I yelled, squirming in the chair, trying to find a way to free myself of the ropes. "Shut your fucking mouth, I'm sick of her, tape her mouth," he commanded, his eyes never leaving mine.

His men scrambled and grabbed some duct tape, cutting a strip and placing it over my mouth. "That'll fucking teach her to keep her mouth shut, dirty whore," he grumbled, storming off into another room.

I sat there for hours, staring at the wall, kicking my feet, humming songs and reciting math problems in my head, doing anything I could to escape the boredom, a few of his men guarded the outside of the room, making sure if I did somehow free myself they could catch me.

I missed Tom a lot, being without him was like hell, even though we barely knew each other we still had that strong connection, I just wanted to be in his arms.

More hours passed, the sound of footsteps echoed through the empty warehouse, the heavy sound indicating only one set of feet. The sound stops right in front of the room I was in, the door swung open and Jake walked in, stopping right in front of me.

"You're going to pay, taking my fucking best man away from me," he growled lowly, grabbing the same switchblade he used from days ago, flicking the blade open and kneeling in front of me.

He smirked, an evil force behind it, he slowly moved the blade towards my thigh, my legs shaking in fear. Who knows what this sick bastard had in mind, he could do anything he wanted, I was basically an open book.

"He could never love someone as pathetic as you, so useless," he chuckled darkly, trying to hurt me with his words. When he saw they were no use his anger rose, he gripped the switchblades handle tightly and dragged the blade against my skin, cutting deeply.

I screamed in pain, the duct tape muffling it, watching as continued to stab into my leg, cutting deeper this time, the blade biting into me. The sound of flesh parting under the sharp edge echoing through the room, a sadistic pleasure filling his eyes as he sees the blood now trickling down my thigh, dripping onto the concrete floor. "You're so weak, so easy to break.." his voice was a mere whisper, full of dark promises and threats.

I whined and sobbed, unable to beg for his forgiveness. "Stop your crying!" he yelled, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look up at him, "I said, STOP!" he screamed, his patience wearing thin when I failed to heed to his command. He pulled back his other hand and delivered a stinging slap across my cheek.

He was yelling at me so loudly that we both couldn't hear the sounds of gunshots booming in the background, Toms heavy, angry footsteps echoed through the warehouse as he approached, he bursted through the door, it's hinges giving way under his powerful force.

His eyes widened at the sight of me, blood dripping from the wound on my thigh, a surge of adrenaline and protectiveness flooded through him, "get your filthy fucking hands off of her!" he screamed, seeing the blade in Jake's hand.

Anger blazed in Jake's eyes, like he had completely shifted, he charged at tom with the blade, Tom quickly moved to block his attack, the blade sinking into the wall beside him.

"Bastard!" Jake roared, sliding the blade out of the wall and charging for Tom again, Toms eyes flashed with fury as he saw him attempt to hurt him again. In a fluid motion, he pulled his gun from his waistband and quickly fired, the bullet striking Jake in the chest.

He quickly crumpled to the ground, the knife clattering from his limp hand. I screwed my eyes shut, avoiding the sight of Jake's dying body. Tom quickly rushed to my side, taking his shirt off and wrapping it tightly around my actively bleeding wound, then he moved to the ropes, undoing all the knots and grabbing me, wrapping my legs around his waist as he held me against his chest.

As he walked out of the room, I observed the warehouse, bodies scattered everywhere and pools of blood everywhere, I whined and looked in the other direction, one second longer of looking at the bodies and I would throw up everywhere.

Tom carried me to his car, gently placing me in the passenger seat. He rushed to the drivers side, starting the engine and speeding out of the warehouse, leaving the chaotic scene behind. His mind was racing, trying to figure out what do to next.

Once we were both a safe distance away, he gently set me into his lap, carefully lifting my thigh to examine the wound. He peeled the cloth off, revealing the deep gash. His gaze darkened as he took in the severity of the laceration. With a steady hand, he unlocks the glovebox and pulls out a first aid kit, beginning to clean the wound with antiseptic wipes, his touch surprisingly gentle given the earlier display of violence.

I hissed at the stinging of the wipes, he finished dressing the wound with the bandage, his eyes softening as he took in my trembling form. Carefully, he brushed a strand of hair from my face, "you're safe now, they will never bother us again.." he murmured, starting the engine again and letting me sit in his lap while he drove around, finding some place to stay at.

Eventually we found a hotel, he quickly parked and helped me out, holding my hand and helping me walk inside. He quickly bought a room, carrying me up the stairs and into the room.

He laid me gently on the plush king sized bed, rummaging through the hotels closets and finding some spare t shirts left by the staff (pretend they do that at hotels), "you should change out of those clothes," he smiled gently, towering over me.

I sighed and slowly took my shirt off, observing the dried blood stains and sweat patches, I reached behind myself and clipped my bra off, Toms eyes instantly widening as my tits spilled out, taking in the sight of my bare breasts.

His gaze lingered on my hardened nipples, swallowing hard, trying to keep his composure. "Fuck..." he said, his voice shaky as he stalked closer, he reached out and gently palmed one of my breasts, circling the nipple.

"Tom...what are you doing.." I gasped softly, my mouth slightly agape as I looked up at him, "shhh...just relax baby.." he softly pushed me down onto the bed, climbing on top of me and capturing my lips in a soft, gentle kiss.

I shifted backwards, going further into the bed until my head hit the soft pillows. He crawled up slowly, gently kissing my legs, up to my thighs, "you've been through so much tonight, i'm going to make you feel better..ok?" he murmured, "okay..." I bit my lip, nodding softly and giving him full permission to my body.

"Good girl.." he whispered, his breath was hot against my thighs before he started kissing his way up, reaching my sensitive stomach. His hands eagerly explored my body as he goes teasing and kneading my breasts and stomach.

He finally reached my crotch and slowly unbuttoned my shorts, sliding them down my legs and off my body, throwing them somewhere. He then hooked his fingers around the waistband of my panties, dragging them down with ease, his eyes never leaving mine.

He takes in the sight of me completely bare in front of him, his eyes flashing with hunger as he dove his head down, his tongue flickered out, tracing a wet line from my entrance to my clit, "mmh!" I moaned softly, rolling my eyes back, the sensation of his warm tongue on my pussy addicting.

He kept doing the same motion, again and again, each time his tongue grew firmer and more desperate. His hands gripped my thighs, making sure to not touch my wound, keeping them spread open for him. "Taste so good..so wet f'me.." he groaned, his tongue lapping at my juices, swirling around my swollen clit. "Fuck!" I gasped, bucking my hips up into his face, grinding my cunt against his lips.

He slowly lifted my legs, draping them over his shoulders and driving his face further into my cunt, humming in approval, his tongue delving deeper into my folds as he tasted me. He moaned, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through me.

"Tomm!" I whined, rolling my eyes back as the pleasure intensified, he smirked against my skin, loving the way I reacted to his every move. He began to lick and suck at me with increased fervour, his nose buried in my folds as he feasts on my arousal.

His fingers dig into my ass, pulling me harder against his face, feasting on me like a starved man, "so fucking good.." he groaned deeply, kissing and circling my clit with his warm tongue.

He slowly reached up, slipping 2 fingers into my messy hole, feeling my slick juices cover them completely, "fuckk.." he grinned, his finger probing deeper, gently moving in and out of my pussy.

"Such a messy pussy...so tight," he chuckled darkly, reattaching his tongue to my clit, sucking and swirling harshly, feeling my walls fluttering around him as he curled his fingers at my g spot, sending me into a pure state of euphoria.

I shoved my head back into the pillows, my back arching as I felt my orgasm near, "gonna cum!" I choked out, barely able to speak from all the pleasure I was receiving, he smirked and kept fucking me roughly with his fingers, feeling my pussy tighten around him.

"That's it..cum for me..let it go like the little slut you are" he growled. As my orgasm built to a crescendo, he increased the intensity of his ministrations once again. He pistoned his fingers deeper, repeatedly curling them to hit that perfect spot over and over again until my vision started to blur.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" I yelped, my release dangerously close, "yessss!" I moaned loudly, my legs shaking as I basically closed my thighs in on his head, my pussy quivering as I reached my climax, my juices spilling all over his tongue and fingers.

"Ohhh yes..such a good girl for me," he mumbled, licking and slurping up everything I gave him, not wasting a single drop. Before even letting me process what just happened he sat me up, crawling behind me and gently pulling me against him so that my back was resting on his chest.

"That's it...just let me take care of you, let me make you forget about the pain, ok princess?" he whispered gently in my ear, his hot breath fanning against my neck, "o-okay..." I whimpered softly, he hoisted my legs to up to my chest, I felt his fingers slowly rub on my body, finding every crevise and curve, tending to it.

"So beautiful, so perfect for me.." he smirked, leaning down and gently kissing my neck, then my shoulders, leaving a trace of his scent wherever he went.

"Tom...please.." I gasped, feeling his fingers slide teasingly down my stomach, down to my burning heat. "Please what? Words baby..use your words..tell me what you need" he said, his voice gentle yet assertive.

His fingers gently brushed against my slick folds, teasing the entrance to my pussy, "need..your fingers.." I said, my lip gently quivering as I grew more impatient, "okay, okay..." he chuckled at the desperation laced in my voice.

I felt his hard cock pressed against my ass, his fingers slowly sliding into me again, his other hand coming up to my exposed breast, fingers tweaking and rolling my nipples as he nuzzled into my neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along my jaw.

"Take it baby...take it all..." he murmured in my ear, sliding his fingers in and out of me with ease. He thrusted his fingers deeper, my inner walls clenching around him as he scissored them inside me, searching for that spot that will make me scream his name.

He pinched my nipples, tugging on them gently as he perked his thumb up to rub my clit, rubbing slow and gentle circles around the swollen bud. I whined, receiving pleasure from 3 different spots on my body overwhelming me, my chest heaving up and down.

"Tom..can't handle it...mmh.." I whimpered, pushing my body into his, trying to close my legs. "Shhh, you can take it baby, just relax," he gentle nibbled on my earlobes, swirling his fingers over my sensitive nipples.

"So good...gonna cum again.." I rolled my eyes back, resting my head on his shoulder, feeling his lips come in contact with my neck again, the angle giving him better access. He gently bit and sucked on my neck, leaving marks everywhere, "my perfect girl...so obedient.." he whispered, his words lingering in my head.

"Doing so well baby..taking my fingers like the little whore you are.." he said, his voice filled with lust and desire. He continued to work his magic, fingers curling inside me as he searched for my sweet spot, his thumb rubbed faster over my clit, the pleasure building to a fever pitch.

"Tom! Mmmh!" I moaned loudly, my mouth wide open as I came all over his fingers, even after my orgasm he didn't stop, he just continued his brutal pace, shoving his fingers inside me.

"Fuck! Oh my god!" I yelped, his fingers prolonging the aftershocks of my orgasm until I'm a writhing mess in his arms. "Don't stop!" I whined, pushing my ass into him as I felt his fingers curl at my g spot again.

His fingers move with reckless abandon, slamming in and out of my tight, wet heat. "You want it harder baby?" he growled lowly in my ear, wrapping his arm around my stomach and reeling me in closer.

"Yes, mmh yes!" I moaned loudly, his fingers pumped into me with more force at my demand, obliging my plea. His pistons them in and out at a merciless pace, the wet wounds of my pussy filling the room.

His thumb rubbed insistently over my clit, ensuring that I was drowning in sensation. He smirked as he sensed my second climax approaching. He added a third finger, stretching me further and intensifying the pleasure, "oh my god!" I yelled out, screwing my eyes shut and focusing on the pleasure.

His fingers drove in deep, grinding against my g spot as he curled them, "fuck, you're so good.." he said, determined to bring me over the edge once more. His thumb pressed hard against my clit, the stimulation overwhelming as he works me towards another explosive orgasm.

He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear, "you gonna cum, yeah? Is my good girl gonna cum all over these fingers?" I nodded lazily, panting as I chased my orgasm, feeling my pussy throb.

"Good...very good.." he chuckled softly, knowing he's making me lose control. His fingers continued their relentless assault, driving me to the brink of madness with pleasure. As my pussy spasms around his digits, he increased the pressure on my clit, pushing me over the edge into a shattering orgasm.

"Fuck!" I screamed, my legs trembling as my orgasm crashed down, a small spurt of clear liquid spilling out of my cunt, his eyes widened at this, not knowing I had the ability to squirt.

"Oh fuck.." he muttered, I felt his cock throb on my ass, begging for attention. "I need you, now, I can't wait any longer.." he mumbled, scrambling around and flipping me over onto my stomach, getting behind me and pulling me against his crotch, his hard cock pressing into my bare pussy.

I heard him start to take off his pants, his hands shaking in anticipation, he shoved them off along with his boxers, his thick, veiny cock springing out, already leaky with pre.

His hands gripped my hips tightly as he lined his tip with my dripping wet pussy. With a sharp thrust, he buried himself inside me, I yelped and hissed at the pain, a low growl of satisfaction rumbled in his chest, "so tight.." he said, pulling back slightly before slamming into me again, setting a brutal pace.

The bed creaked beneath me as he thrusted harder, driving his cock deep into my pulsing pussy with each stroke. His balls slapped against my clit, the lewd sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room.

I moaned loudly, feeling his cock hit my g spot rapidly, "ohhh yes!" sending waves of pleasure throughout my body, my tits bouncing with every hard thrust. His breathing became ragged as he continues his relentless attack on my pussy, "you like that, hm? You like my big cock slamming into your tight pussy, hitting all the right spots?" he growled, leaning down to whisper in my ear, his chest pressed against my back.

As I didn't answer him, my brain fogged with too much pleasure, he dug his fingers through my hair and gripped it tightly, pulling my hair back, "answer me, now.." he commanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"Y-yes! I love it!" I whined, the pain adding even more pleasure, his grip on my hair tightened as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear, "that's what I like to hear, you dirty little slut. You love getting fucked hard don't you? Love feeling every inch of my cock stretching you open," he spat out, his words laced with lust and desire.

"Yes! Yes, fuck!" I moaned loudly. His thrusting became more erratic, his grip on my hair tightening even more as he pulls back, causing me to arch my back in pleasure. He lets go of my hair only to slap my ass hard, leaving a red handprint on my skin, "ow!" I yelped, shocked at the sudden pain.

He chuckled, pleased with the reaction as he watched me wince at the sting. His cock twitches inside me, the slap of his hand against my ass echoing through the room. "You like a little pain with your pleasure, don't you?" he added, a cheeky grin on his face.

I giggled, nodding softly, "and what if I do?" he chuckled again, finding my playfulness amusing as he continued to pound into me with unrelenting force.

I felt a knot form in my stomach, signalling my impending orgasm. He noticed my sudden change in breath, he smirked triumphantly and thrusts harder into me. He takes a hold of my hips, pulling them back against him as he moved deeper inside me, "cmon, cum for me, I want to feel that tight cunt tighten around my fucking cock," he said, his voice low and seductive, only driving me further to my orgasm.

With a few more brutal thrusts my orgasm washed over me, his cock exploding as I tightened around his cock, my juices spilling all over his throbbing member, he made sure to fuck the cum deep into me, not wanting to risk spillage on the sheets.

"Jesus christ.." he murmured, collapsing beside me and swiftly pulling me with him, cradling my shaking frame against his chest, whispering soothing words into my ear to help me calm down from my series of earth shattering orgasms.

After a few minutes I finally spoke up, "I thought you were going to take care of me, didn't think slapping and hair pulling would be apart of that," I giggled, rolling my eyes playfully as I reached up to caress his cheek, he chuckled and kissed the tip of my nose, "sorry baby, I got carried away, your pussy was just too good," he said, sending shivers down my spine.

"I'm glad I get to have you in my arms like this, just relaxed, not afraid of being interrupted," he smiled softly, reaching up and running his hands through my hair gently, caressing my aching scalp.

"Me too..." I whispered, pressing my forehead against his, savouring the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around me, eventually we both drifted off to sleep in each others arms, not a worry or care about anyone or anything except for each other.

tags: @ballhair @kaulitzsbabyy @kaulitzswhxre

tags: @tomsonlyslut @pa1n-0f-l0ve @bills-wife-1

tags: @bkaulitzlover @ella1289 @billsdolliest

[mikichko]

THAT ANON BACK FOR A CUTE THOUGHT!!!!!! Johnny and Simon drive Zach to school everyday before Johnny drops Simon off at work. When you eventually fold into the family, you make a red light kiss tax. Everytime the car is stopped at a red light, she gives a kiss on the cheek to all her boys in the car. Ghoap used to hate red lights (impatient, both of them. Road rage but not really, yknow?), but now they find themselves hoping every light is red and taking the long way home just to hear you whoop and say “kiss tax!”

cariño i adore the way your brain works!!!!

it's like one of their favorite parts of the new family dynamics and literally why the boys prefer driving over any other mode of transportation. they fucking adore your kisses.

personal headcanon but i feel like the boys, really all of the 141, are incredibly touch starved. even when it was just johnny and simon they had a point of contact between them at all times, no matter how small. this extends to zach who is showered with all kinds of physical love. that boy is given kisses, hugs, piggyback rides, he's carried, he's bundled, he's cuddled, they do everything to make sure that their boy knows how much he's loved.

and then you, oh of course you! i personally feel like the kiss tax is started relatively early in your new established relationship. it's summer holiday, you've all managed to sync up your days off, and you decide to do a family day at the aquarium. you're still trying to find your footing on how you fit into ghoap's pretty established dynamic so the most physicality around this time is some slight brushes here and there. fun outing regadless.

the problem is that despite it being the summer holiday the traffic never eases up. so of course, when you're in the car for 15 minutes and you've only managed to inch forward through two green lights you sprint out the kiss tax. zach starts getting a little fussy in his seat, legs thumping on the plastic, sometimes the plush seat below it, when you absentmindedly plant a kiss on his cheek. he immediately squeals, causing soap to turn around and simon to glance in the rearview, and reels back from you.

"what was that!?" he giggles out and you just pinch his cheeks. "it's a kiss tax!"

up at the front johnny and simon exchange a glance, simon's grip on the wheel lessens a bit as you explain, "well, when there's a red light it means you get a kiss!" as if to prove your point, the yellow light in front of you turns and bathes the car in red.

zach glances back and forth excitedly between you and the light, practically bouncing off the seat, "does that mean I get another?"

"one for every red," you nod back before planting the next one on his forehead. he dissolves into giggles again, fingers prodding the spots where your lips just were a few moments ago.

soap's grinning now, body angled completely towards the both of you his left arm resting on simon's left shoulder, "first I'm hearing about this tax. is no age exception, right?" cheeky little smile shot at you.

you really can't help the heat rushes to your face at this man, who you still cannot believe you're in a relationship with, is so openly gunning for a kiss from you. really he wants a lot more but baby steps you shake your head back at him, "no age exceptions. everyone's subject to the kiss tax"

soap feigns a dramatic gasp, "love," he pats simon's shoulder, "ye hearin'? committing tax fraud in our very own car, can ye believe?"

simon just hums in acknowledgement before johnny continues, "cannae have that. upstanding citizen's we are. if we've got to be taxed, we'll be taxed with honor." and he offers his cheek to you.

you're still a little timid but you press a soft little kiss to his cheek before pulling back a bit. johnny shoots you a pleased little smile, "cannae forget about sprout too, lass," tilting his head over towards simon. who is still staring ahead, watching for openings but the corners of his mouth are ticked upwards. they spread wider when you press a kiss to his cheek, catching both the smooth and scraggly parts of his face. they're all pleased as punch.

the ride back home is just more red lights and rounds of kisses til you make it home. johnny manages to tilt his head at just the right second on one of the kisses and plant a nice big kiss on your lips. simon, trying his best to be diligent, turns just enough for you to plant one of the corner of his lips, with a promise of a proper kiss at home.

not only do they enjoy red lights not but johnny and simon flip a coin every time they're about to get into the car to see whose going to drive and whose going to be the one to get lenghier kisses out of you.

[rinxelea]

oh, darling, would you kill for me? | gojo satoru

wc. 1.3k

tags. forbidden romance, mention of guns and death, implied drugging, violence. a little dark ngl

preview. having been raised in opposite households, you knew that there was no hope between you and gojo satoru. but satoru keeps his promises, even if it means he has to put a bullet through somebody's head in order to kiss you.

it's a simple thing, really.

you rotate the words in your mind, trying to make sense of it. satoru's voice lingers like an echo, the tip of his tongue murmuring the silent words: "let me help."

there's nothing to help you with. satoru is the wealthy heir of a kingdom, and you are, well... you. still an heir, but in a far less...pleasant place. you hold power in the underground while satoru basks in the daylight: fancy halls, expensive wine, blithering nobles, and all. it's as simple as that.

you would have had to say goodbye eventually. it just so happens that satoru's advisors found out and forbid you to go see him again if you didn't want to see satoru locked away. you were young. you were in love. it happens.

you scoff to yourself quietly, anyway. as if they didn't already lock him away.

"if you would just let me help," satoru's grip on your arm is sure to leave a bruise. you can't look at his face. you can't see the desperation in his eyes, nor can you acknowledge that this will be your last goodbye. "i can help you, i can get you out."

you snort, rotating the barrel in your hands before pointing it at the shaking bastard kneeling between your feet. it's pointless to reminisce on old memories. what a fool. a lovesick, deluded fool.

"if you would just-"

"if i would just what? leave where i've come from, marry you, and live happily ever after?" the words fall out of your lips with bitterness, your restraint long gone. satoru looked pissed, a mixture of anger and wildness in his normally calm face. you wanted to apologize, but you knew you had to go back where you came from, go back where there was no satoru by your side. "grow up, satoru."

"yes! because i'll marry you in a heartbeat. fuck what they think." your lover ran his fingers through his neat hair, messing it up. if it were any other time, you would have loved to do it yourself. "listen. i'll come back for you. i'll come back, and we'll be okay. i promise."

you didn't say anything.

you didn't have to.

"i-i'm sorry!" the man wailed, a mixture of snot and tears running down his face. you click your tongue, pressing the gun to the man's temple. a spy, or at least you think so. even if you'll never admit it, you're more distracted by what happened than you thought, and your fingers are aching for something red. "please, i swear i'll-"

with blood coating your hands, you press the trigger.

...

3 years. 3 years, and satoru decides to come back in the worst fucking time, just when the two factions are in the middle of a squabble and the atmosphere tightened around them all like a vice.

"what the fuck are you doing here?" your shaking hands grasp the front of satoru's tailored suit, your eyes piercing through blue. there's a little, traitorous piece of your heart longing to get closer, to see if this was real, if satoru really came back for you after 3 years of separation. "you idiot."

the sound of gunshots echoes through your fuzzy mind, the blood loss from the gunshot wound acting up on you. you had to protect satoru from the blow. you had to. because the man apparently had zero self-preservation and deemed it alright to strut inside of your domain as if he wouldn't be eaten alive by the people there in a second.

"are you hurt?" you frantically pat satoru down, and let out a sigh of relief when you find that he's all in one piece. satoru is the one left to check up on you when the wound through your side acts up, pain permeating your every being. "fuck."

he says your name. satoru's voice passes through you like a gentle wave, cradling your head slowly, back and forth, back and forth. fuck. you need to focus. you need to get satoru out. he repeats your name, and this time, you can tell he's a little desperate.

"gojo." you hiss out, shaking your head as if it would make it any clearer. you groan when it only results in nausea. "we need to get out." you punctuate each word, wanting to make sure that satoru understands.

"okay." satoru says, gently. he's way too fucking calm for your liking. there's an arm around your back, now, supporting you as your surroundings ebbed and flowed like a blurry photograph. you vaguely feel getting lifted up, hearing some mumbled words and a ringing gunshot before you pass out in satoru's arms, the world fading to black.

...

there's no one and nothing there to notice satoru's smile.

nothing, except the innocent empty drink in front of your desk, and the corpse of the bastard who dared to lay a hand on what was his.

...

you wake up in an unfamiliar room, the lights almost blinding you when you open your eyes. the room is certainly lavish, gold and silver decorations adorning every corner, with silk sheets and cotton blankets all around you. you feel a deep urge to sink into the pillows, unsure of what the fuck happened but entirely too tired to give too much of a shit.

the moments pass in relative silence, until the door creaked, revealing none other than gojo satoru. despite expecting his appearance, you still feel surprised, though you're not sure if that's over his situation or the fact that satoru has grown...well.

fuck, who were you kidding. satoru looked delectable as hell. he's grown into his looks, it seems like, the youthful boyishness of his face being replaced by a more ethereal beauty. that isn't even mentioning his build, which was - oh.

when he says your name, you can't help it. your stomach is doing flips. it's still your favorite melody. you feel a little out of it, if you're being honest, your vision blurred at the edges. "how are you feeling?"

the bed dips with the extra weight as satoru sits next to you. your throat is dry, and your mouth is too heavy to speak. you op to nod instead, looking at the wall beside satoru's face. you're not sure if you could look at him. you know you'll break.

"here." you hastily drink the glass of water satoru hands you, your throat thanking you for the ailment. it makes your head a little clearer, too, and you're finally able to take a glance at satoru, able to see him here again up close.

satoru sighs, and you feel a pin drop in your stomach. why is he sad? you flinch minutely when you feel a gentle hand carding through your hair, but ultimately relax at the familiar hold. "i'm sorry."

"mhn," you groan out, your head still aching. what is satoru sorry for? how did you end up here, when you stepping into satoru's house should have been taken as a declaration of war by its other inhabitants? unless, of course, you were a captive. "what d'you mean?"

the hand in your hair pauses for a second, then resumes. "nevermind, it's nothing. it's okay." satoru says, and presses a kiss to your open lips. you want to retort, want to ask what happened, why you were here, but satoru swallows them all, makes a home out of your mouth once more. "i promised you, didn't i? i told you i'd come back, and we'd be together."

for once, you believe him. the questions can wait. satoru is more important. you lean into the persistent touches, a rumbling sound coming out of you like a purr. you look up in time to see the pleased look in satoru's face, and fully let yourself submit, let yourself sink in the feathery light feeling.

"we can be together now." satoru murmurs, his lips pressing a light kiss to your forehead. you preen at the attention, your body a livewire awaiting your lover's every touch. "it's okay."

"satoru." you whisper, your breaths intermingling with one another now that you're so close. satoru's eyes widen, and he kisses you again, and again, and again, until you're both breathless.

"i'm here." satoru promises you, a protective hand curling around your waist. it's an ocean wave, engulfing your body and cradling you like a lost, floating raft, finally succumbing. "i always will be."

[madhattervanessa]

Hello, I was wondering if you could do a one shot of where how the Tf 141 would react to the y/n asking to try a new position and it ended up hurting them. Like causing cramps. And how would they help or what exactly would they do?(Yes this has happened to me) I was hoping that this would become like fluff/ comfort with a hint of NSFW. Sorry I am writing this while at work.

Hey ‘non! Thank you so much for the ask and don’t even worry about it, I got you. I hope your work day went okay :)

This has happened to me a few times, too, lmao, those cramps are fucking nasty.

I also wrote this down in one go and it's really fucking late, I'm slightly tipsy so- at least we'll be on a similar level of unhinged

Let’s get into it!

Cpt. John Price

REALLY loves when you give him new options for positions to twist you into

this man is a dom through and through. If you give him the go, I- 

but I also think he is prepared- he gets you warmed up before you guys start playing twister, he is getting older, okay?

So I think this is most likely to happen in the morning when you’re spooning and it turns into fucking from there; he wants to see his cock in the mirror at the end of the bed and lifts your leg, so he can “watch that greedy pussy swallow his cock”

It’s then, that the cramps hit- your hip muscles contract from front to back and you wince noticeably

“Fuck, what’s wrong-?”

“Cramp-Cramp-! Fuck!”

Cue immediate stop and questing fingers that prod while you whine about the pain

Fear not though because this man gets you up on your feet to walk while he sprints off to find whatever pain medication and heating pad he can find before even getting dressed

If it dies down? Great. Though you’ll have him check in more for a few weeks, careful to take it slow

If it doesn’t, prepare to be handled with a furrowed brow and the utmost care until John can figure out a physical therapist- even if it’s a poor rookie he strongarms into helping you on base.

he’ll probably feed you magnesium supplements for a few days, too

Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley

Look- Simon is always more than happy to wait for cues from you

If you want a new position, you’ll have to either talk him into it or already twist yourself into a new position before he can even perceive what is happening because this man likes to stick to missionary where he can watch you soak his cock and look back up to see your cute face twist up as you cum

once established and proven, he’ll take up new positions, though. 

I feel like he is a big fan of putting a leg over his shoulder as he fucks you

I am lying, I am a big believer of this- it’s a gorgeous view, he can use it as leverage and paw at your tits or just watch them bounce prettily as he fucks you

However, having sex with this big hunk of a man means he’ll not only stretch you apart in that particular position, he also makes you cum hard

When your leg cramps eventually from the constant pressure and from holding that position for too long, he will chalk it up to you being fussy at first

but if you insist, he’ll stop and drop immediately to push his fingers into the sore spot

it will hurt- his grip is strong and he is insistent, despite your wriggling around

but it makes for a quick and effective solution: he is good at massaging the cramp away, soothing the pain with his hand.

Once it’s out of the way, he’ll keep his warm hand on it before continuing to fuck you into relaxation- a nap after getting fucked until you are limp is the best way to a quick recovery in his opinion

Otherwise you’ll probably get bothered with massage rollers or a massage gun

Sgt. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

hah, yeah, this happens to the two of you a lot-

look, I see Kyle and I see him having fun in the bedroom

he is DOWN to try new stuff, basically whenever wherever, baby

If you have sex with this man, you’re bound to get more flexible, that’s a fact for sure, I will not be taking any goddamn notes

I can see him ogling you while you do yoga or pilates and it escalating from there

especially if you shake your ass a little at him

Downward dog man, I’m telling you.

And how could he say no to you?

He’s eating you out until you tell him to stop making you wait and fuck you

and Kyle, good, loyal, absolutely whipped for his girl Kyle, does not hesitate to slide his cock in and “give you a good stretch”

“Deep breath, darling- fuck- yeah-”

but when your legs start to cramp and you yelp?

He jumps because he is scared he hurt you before he reacts.

He’ll help you up and get you moving before getting you some gatorade or something like it

Ushers you into a bath and rubs your back for you as you soak

Will definitely still get you off later and just insist you have to relax

Yoga sex will definitely be off the table for a while, despite the fun because Gaz is just too afraid he’ll hurt you again

Sgt. Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

this nasty dog of a man-

I digress

there’s a book of things he wants to try out with you

so he is always delighted when you bring up something new to try out, his shy little birdie, he’ll tease you about being the horndog in the relationship

literally twists you into any crazy position you consent to (like the pretzel or whatever? looking at that shit gives me cramps) 

kamasutra books have nothing on the brain of this man

it doesn’t hurt that he… does his research.

anyways

if you let him do that shit to you? Oh the satisfaction on that man’s face

Dirty grin on his face the entire time that only falls when you cum or when he does- however, I feel like Soap gets sloppy when he is about to cum, sloppy, careless and definitely a little unhinged

so when your legs protests and he is in the throes of it, you have got to forgive him bc your pussy is sucking his soul out of his body

but even in a pussy-drunk state, as soon as he is back in his body when you whimper and start to cringe at the pain, he’ll start stretching your leg out 

he’ll use the length of his body to prop it up and stretch you out, going full on football physical therapist, despite his dick still softening inside of your pussy

he might get hard again, especially if he starts rubbing over the spot and you start whimpering and relaxing, letting him treat you well and relaxing into it

definitely hard again when you shoot him a satisfied, relaxed look at the immediate relief he provides for you

“We’ll have to stretch you out hen, just to be sure you don’t cramp up again, yeah?”

Trust, you will be stretched very unprofessionally- kinks and new positions are discovered that night

[sebastianstansqueen]

Lost in The Shadows Fifteen

A/N: This one is short, sorry, but two parts close together, hope you like it, If you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 945

Warnings:  Angst, maybe Guns, then obviously Brock, kid's, , If forgot anything let me know please!

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Taglist open// 

Tags:@cherryblossomsky- @babylooneytoonz- @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond- @leyannrae- @avengerlex- @pineprincess - @nik2write - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel - @sebsgirl71479- @missvelvetsstuff- @hadesownhell - @casa-boiardi- @winterslove1917- @hallecarey1- @ash-craze - @barnesxstan - @unaxv - @bethexo07 - @itsmytimetoodream - @sebastians-love -@stoneyggirl2 - @ordelixx - @arunabrak - cjand10

Four Years Later

The war between Y/n and Brock had evaluated until, the two of them were the last standing, The Carter, and Rumlow names were the last that stood for the mob families. Brock began getting avantages, on killing each family head one by one. Most who had been friends with Y/n however and who still wanted to live decided to just hand it all to her and that was the same thing as what Thomas had to do for himself and his own family. 

She stared at her computer, flicking through some security footage by the doc as to watch out for Brock's shipment. The large office door began to open with a small whine, her eyes flicked up wards to see who was entering. A mop of brown hair walked through the office, making its way behind the desk, and crawled on to Y/n’s lap. “Hey, baby.” Y/n combed through her daughter's hair with her fingers lightly, her voice filled with exhaustion. “Where's your brother?” 

“Probably, sleep.” She mumbled out, Y/n hummed listening but still flicking through more cameras. “Whats you doing?” 

“Working baby, and then mama is going to sleep, which you should already be.” Y/n looked at her knowingly. 

“Can’ts sleep.” She shakes her head.

Y/n sighed. “Give mama a bit, and then we'll get hot chocolate, I promise Autumn.” The little girl nodded contently.

 Y/n stayed there with the little girl who had slowly fallen to sleep for hours. Nothing came up on the Camera, eventually she called off her guys. Eventually lightly waking up Autumn. “Hey sweetheart, you want hot chocolate now?” Though still tired she perked up, getting off Y/n’s lap and leading the way down to the kitchen. 

Aiden soon joined his mom and sister in the large kitchen, with a grumpy look on his face, his nose screwed up, he was Bucky’s perfect mini-me. “What got your face all screwed up?” Y/n laughed lightly.

“Mama and Autumn, too loud.” He complained. 

“I’m sorry little man, but mama, and Autumn kinda pulled an all nighter, and are about to go back to bed with some hot chocolate, you want some?” Aiden nodded along quickly. “And then Mr. Grumpy, we'll all go to bed for whatever is left of the night.”   

After taking both of her four year olds up stairs with her to her grand room, and finally being able to relax, her eyes shut. 

Four Years Earlier

Soon after getting back, Y/n called Natasha and Wanda for support through the rest of her Pregnancy, and soon after getting back she was again forced to step out as head and put on bed rest, because she found out she was having twins. 

When Y/n, Natasha and Wanda were having a movie night, watching the Princess Diaries was the Choice, soon after having Natasha and Wanda come to help, Y/n found out that Andy put them up to a mission of making her feel at least a little bit better after Bucky. So she tried to go along with it at least a little. While watching the movie just sitting in bed, her water broke. “Uh guy’s.”

_______

Y/n woke up to nothing. Autumn and Aiden weren't there, her brows furrowed. “Autumn Aiden?” She called out once she got to the staircase when she got no reply, that’s when she panicked, repeatedly calling their names and looking through every room in the house, until Natasha stopped her down a hallway. “Do you have to be so fast in this big of a house?” 

“First off it's a compound, and next is do you know where Autumn and Aiden are?” She asked as she tried not to panic.

 Natasha nodded, then led her to the kitchen. “Maybe don’t freak out so bad next time?” She offered. 

“Not funny.” Y/n shook her head. 

“I wasn’t laughing.” Natasha shook her head. “We got something.” Natasha went from Bartender to one of Y/n’s best assassins. 

“What?” She asked.

“I’ll show you after breakfast.” Natasha said before opening the door to the kitchen, where Wanda was making Pancakes, and the kits sat at the island. 

“Late shift?” Wanda smiles. 

“Late everything, and apparently my closest friends know more than me?” Y/n arched a brow as she leaned against the counter.

Natasha rolled her eyes slightly in seriousness but there was more of a light hatredness behind it than anything. “Can’t ever be patient can you Y/n? Even when the kids are around?” 

Y/n gave Natasha a stern look. “If my kids will do an overnight with me I can be impatient around them.” 

Natasha sighed, walking over to the small kitchen table in the corner by a window looking into the back yard, grabbing something out of her purse, before walking over and placing the folder on the counter in front of  Y/n, who opened it to skim the photos inside. “It seems that Brock has his own new assassin, he’s been on my radar for the last three years.” 

Y/n looked at Natasha with a glint of something resembling anger or betrayal. “Why didn’t I know about this?” She tilted her head. 

“Because, I didn’t want you freaking out about it, and besides, I didn’t know until now that he was even Brock’s.” Natash informed me. “I wanted to be sure before I brought it to your attention.” 

“I’ll look more into it after breakfast.” Y/n  sighed as she looked at the long haired man, but no one could make out who it was. The person's face was covered.

[5eraphim]

If you are okay with any poly asks/requests how about Demo and Soldier (kidnap) take their partner (afab) out to a random forest and hunt them down (primal play) because they were being a brat and teasing them.

(Soldier would have great tracking skills considering he is canonically friends with raccoons. And Demo would have a blast.)

This was HEAVILLY inspired by the Robert Hansen music video by SKYND. legit heard this song for the first time i think a week ago and I knew right away it was the perfect inspiration for this story. i don't know why my brain allowed this request to gather dust for months, but then heard one song that goes hard and then finishes it in a few days?? as always, i apologize for taking forever, but more importantly thank you for the request, i hope you like how this turned out.

Title: Hunting Party

Characters: The Soldier 🦅 and Demoman 🐏

Rating: X (MINORS DNI, GO PLAY OUTSIDE)

Content Warnings: Noncon, death threats, stalking, blades, guns/getting shot, Dark! Characterization, outdoor sex, double penetration, rough, AFAB reader/female terms used, fearplay, primal play, blood, depersonalization, boot licking, bukkake, threeway

Word Count: 5.2k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

"When you become separated or isolated in a hostile area, your evasion and survival skills will determine whether or not you return to friendly lines... With training, equipment, and the will to survive, you can overcome any obstacle you may face. You will survive. Understand the emotional states associated with survival. "Knowing thyself" is extremely important in a survival situation." U.S. Army Ranger handbook (Chapter 14, Sections 1-2)

"When you're on the march, act the way you would if you were sneaking up on a deer. See the enemy first" Major Robert Rogers, 1759

The sun began to set a little lower, and you were painfully lost in the middle of the woods. Your hands were cold; a bitter wind blew from behind, rustling the shriveled mid-autumn leaves over your head. It must've been hours, shambling fruitlessly through the dense forest, searching for an exit, praying you would find a way out before something else found you first.

For some reason, you couldn't remember exactly what happened earlier during the day leading up to this situation. You'd woken up disoriented, your head aching, and with no knowledge of where you were or how you wound up here. It hurt to move upon awakening, your head felt heavy and slow with drowsiness, and your joints were stiff and protested moving too quickly. It took much time and concentration to ease your body out of the fetal position you awoke from. A worn, dingy-smelling sleeping bag was the only thing separating your body from the cold ground. While a hooded jacket, long work pants, and thick-soled boots helped save you from the chill, your fingers were freezing after being exposed to the cold air unmoving for so long. As you began to rub them together to work up some friction to bring the feeling back into your hands, you spotted a rock pinning a slip of paper to the far corner of the sleeping bag where you'd be sure to find it. 

You reached out to read the note,

"You've been getting too comfortable slacking off. You ought to learn how to take your job seriously. It's time you remember who you answer to. Let's see if you can get out of this one on your own."

"We'll give you a few hours headstart. Good luck."

Beneath the message, you recognized the messy signatures of two comrades, the Demoman and the Soldier. For a moment, you sat there motionless, holding the note in your hands, unsure if this was all some elaborate practical joke. Though you had to admit, if there were two people you knew who would try to teach you a lesson by forcing you into a near-death experience, it would be these two. 

Eventually, you forced yourself to your feet, ultimately accepting that if you wanted to get out, you'd have to find it on your own. It wasn't long until paranoia began to set in. Whenever you heard rustling from the bushes, a twig snap, or any other sign of movement in the distance, you instantly froze up, looking around and over your shoulder, expecting to see them there. 

The sound of a rifle firing in the distance stopped you dead in your tracks. Any fleeting hope that all this was some "game" died at that moment. "They wouldn't kill me; they couldn't possibly go through with it; there's no way they would go so far just because you broke a few rules…" You reasoned internally, but even if you didn't think they were out to kill you, not knowing what they had planned felt much more sinister. While the shot resounded far in the distance, you got the message loud and clear: You weren't alone anymore. Your headstart was over, and the hunt was on.

Forcing yourself to stop looking behind, you faced forward and began bolting at full speed straight ahead, treading as quietly as possible to avoid making too much noise. The sun was setting faster now, causing the shadows in the woods to stretch further in the dwindling light, though it was cold comfort, as once the sun set entirely, you knew you didn't have a prayer of finding your way out. 

From a distance behind, you could hear Demo's voice, "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty-" 

His little taunt sent a chill down your spine, only spurring you on all the faster. 

"Come out, come out wherever you aa-are!" After this, you could hear the two of them taunting you from behind, and you could swear you could even hear them getting closer, beginning to close the distance between you and them.

"I'm NOT prey! I'm not going to let him get to me! I'll be free soon; I won't let them win!" You weren't a piece of meat for them to stalk and slaughter; you had to keep reminding yourself. They were taunting you, trying to get in your head, mind games, and nothing more. While you still had a decent amount of distance between you and them, you continued to move as stealthily as possible, darting from shadow to shadow, keeping your weight mainly on the balls of your feet, crouching toe-first through the foliage to keep your steps as silent. Overhead, a crow cried out abruptly, startling you and forcing you to cover your mouth with your hands to keep from crying out. You knew if they weren't hot on your trail before, they knew now exactly where you were. You were unable to keep from trembling as you heard footsteps echoing closer. 

For just one moment, you faltered, considering briefly if you stopped running, you had a chance of trying to negotiate with them, reasoning if you surrendered, maybe they would go easy on you. After all, they'd enjoyed the thrill of tracking you down, stalking you through the woods 'till they were right behind. Wasn't that enough? 

In a split second, you stopped running, knowing the two were right around the corner; you slowed to a stop, forcing yourself to stand your ground on shaky legs, knowing your hunters were right around the corner. Though the moment you were caught in Solly's crosshairs, he didn't wait for a second before pulling the trigger, sending a bullet ripping past you, clipping your hip as it fired past you.

In a matter of seconds, you went from looking at the men before you to the forest floor as you fell face-forward, using your arms to brace your fall as you screamed in pain as hot blood oozed down the side of your leg. By the grace of God, the bullet hadn't lodged inside of you, though you had no clue if that was on purpose or not. It was far from the worst pain you've felt before, but it was enough to quickly down you. You could hear the sound of the two drawing closer but were in too much pain to look up as you curled into the fetal position, drawing as inward as tight as possible, as though that would save you.

They won. You were downed and bleeding at their feet with nothing to protect yourself. Nearly all your energy and will to fight back was drained, and you felt like a lamb seconds before the slaughter. You were terrified during the chase but managed to keep your wits about you. But your sanity was slipping fast. Despite everything, you had a bad feeling the bullet-graze wound would be only the start of your pain tonight. You cowered beneath a massive oak, illuminated by the flashlight attached to Solly's rifle. Pushing yourself off the ground with a grunt, you force yourself to sit back up, your knees propped up under your chin.

You glared up at the man from your position sprawled out on the ground as he glared at you with an expression of equal anger, "What's the matter, cadet? No more fight left in ya?"

As if you could try and keep running, even if you wanted to. But seeing Solly's loaded rifle pointed at you kept you from saying anything sarcastic for fear of upsetting him. Trying to choose your words carefully, you asked, "Is this the end of the hunt?"

Solly sneered, "Do you surrender?"

Trying not to sound snarky, you answered, "Do you think I could run away like this?"

"He asked ya a question- Do ya surrender?" Demo interrupted. Though he didn't have a firearm pointed at you, the throwing ax in his hand frightened you worse than Solly's rifle. 

You nodded, having already accepted defeat. "Fine. You win, I surrender… Now what?"

"It depends. Have you learned your lesson?" Solly spoke, lowering his weapon slightly.

"What?" you questioned, almost shrill with annoyance and fear. The blood seeped in throbbing pulses from your hip, disorienting you to the world around you, and trying to decipher what these two maniacs wanted only furthered your confusion.

Thankfully, rather than lashing out again, Solly explained in his usual gruff, authoritative tone, "You're always slacking off on missions and at work back at base! Trying to ditch work and head out early! You are the laziest Engineer to ever work for our team! If Dell saw what you've done in his place, he'd shoot you! You're a disgrace to your class, you runt!"

Was that what this was all about!? "Dell, you overachieving son of a bitch!" You mentally cursed. It was tough to be an Engineer when held to the impossibly high standard set by your predecessor. You loved Dell; everybody loved Dell. But you couldn't help feeling irked whenever your work was compared to his, as no matter how hard you tried, he always found some way to upstage you. While you loved your job and working with the team, there was simply no competing with a guy like Dell. The man was a third-generation Engineer. All his life, engineering was all he knew. He was practically bred for this job. He gave everything he had to work, and it showed. Dell was nothing less than a master at his craft. You wanted to hate him for this, for showing you up, for acting so modestly and earnestly when others praised his work, even though you could tell from the look in his eye he loved every second of it. But you still couldn't hate Dell; nobody could. 

It hurt to wonder if you'd ever see Dell again. Your heart throbbed as you feared these two might just be deranged enough to go through with this, killing you in cold blood far into the wilderness where no one could hear you scream. There was no Medic here to tend to your injuries, you had no idea how far away the respawn machine was, and you had a bad feeling whatever happened to you out here wouldn't go away so quickly. And there was a good chance these two would be the last thing you'd see before you died.

The longer the two stared you down, the harder it became to keep your head clear. You were terrified to be held at their mercy with no idea what they wanted from you. You broke the silence, your voice unsteady and panicked, slightly rasping on account of how dry your throat became during the hunt. "What do you want me to tell you? I won't leave early anymore? I'll work faster? Whatever it is you want, I'll do it! C'mon, this has gone on long enough!"

Solly appeared chillingly indifferent to your pleas for mercy. "I'm not convinced." 

You grunted in desperation, turning your attention from Solly to his partner, "Demo, you show up to work shitfaced every day, and you're really going to call me a slacker!?"

His eyes were only somewhat unfocused, bearing the telltale sign of his usual intoxication, which narrowed slightly at your dig against him. "I don't need to be sober to make my bombs or to chuck 'em. And I'll shove one down your gullet right now if ya need me to prove it." You straightened and went rigid at the threat, even if he wouldn't deliver. It was disquieting to know how inclined to violence he was now. 

Solly crept forward just an inch as though spurred on by your reaction. "If you want us to get you out of the woods so soon, cadet, we could chop you up right here. Take your head home with us, and keep it on the wall. Let everyone on base know what happens to slackers."

"Look- I'm sorry for letting you down, really, I promise I am! But I'm not a slacker! I'll do better, I swear! Please, let's just go home- we're teammates, right? Let's get back to base, and we'll straighten all of this out." You desperately tried to think of any way to negotiate out of this without promising anything drastic. You wanted to argue with their emotional side, remind them you were friends, and convince them to end this terrible game. The sun set lower during your confrontation, and it was too dark to make out anyone's expression clearly, but you had little faith that either of them was convinced.

Demo snickered, lowering himself to sit back on his haunches, meeting you at eye level, "But we're not back at the base, now are we? Out here, ya ain't a comrade. You're less than an enemy, yer our prey. An' the prey don't' make orders."

Instinctively, you shifted away nervously, wanting to protect what little distance you had left between the two maniacs. Demo still had his hand wrapped around a throwing ax, and you couldn't take your eyes off it. The wicked polished metal of the ax's blade caught the flashlight's beam, reflecting menacingly.

"Aw, c'mon now, don't be so scared- we'll be gentle." Demo spoke with condescending sweetness, enjoying the visible fear on your face. You gasped in fear as you saw Demo's arm holding the ax move, as he made a show of striking the ground by his feet, wedging the weapon into the earth, remaining upright even as he pulled his hand away. You could hear them laughing, watching you flinch and yelp in fear at the fake-out. 

Demo teased, "Still spooked? Why? I thought ye said we were all friends here?" He raised both palms facing you to show you his empty hands, "I'm not gonna hurt ye. The ax is gone. Now come here." He used his pointed finger to gesture for you to come closer, though, at the moment, you were so paralyzed with fear you doubted you could comply even if you wanted to. 

The Demo wasn't pleased by your hesitance, "Don't make me come over there an' getcha myself."

It was beyond stupid to try and defy either of the men in your condition, but Demo didn't even give you time to react as he lurched forward with shocking agility, grabbing you by the collar. The action caught you by surprise, and your legs almost instantly gave out from under you, giving you just seconds to break the fall with your arms as you landed belly-down in the dirt. 

He asked, "Looks like ya got a lil blood on your shirt, lass- let me help you out of it." 

Your clothes were the last of your worries, and he knew it. You could only whine with grief as you heard Demo unearthing his ax to rip the shirt from collar to tail, then from the collar down the sleeves. Slicing your poor shirt to ribbons before pulling the useless fabric away, before doing the same to your bra. As he worked, he sat down on your ass, his weight pinning you in place. While you hated being forced into such a position, you dared not move or try to buck him off while he had an ax directly above your vulnerable body. The cold against your naked flesh made you prickle with discomfort as you listened to him fiddling with something behind you.

"Alright now, lassie, I want you to put your hands behind your back." Demo spoke with a deceptively calm voice, gentler than he'd spoken to you the entire time you'd been in the woods. You shivered in the cold but nevertheless did as you were told. Though just as your arms were in place behind your back, you felt cold metal wrap around them, and the sound of handcuffs locking them into place, you instinctively tried to lurch forward. 

Demo laughed out loud in amusement as he felt you wriggling beneath his weight, trying to worm your way out of this while your hands flapped pathetically against the cuffs. 

"Got Em locked in place for ya. 'Bout time for a real apology from this one, wouldn't ya say?"

"What the hell does he mean by a real apology?" You wondered- wasn't that what you were doing this whole time? Arching your back as high up off the ground as possible, you tried to look Solly in the eye, "But- I just, do I need to repeat it? I'm sorry I let you guys down; I swear it won't happen again! I swear on my life! I'll say it again and again if I have to." Your voice cracked, and you continued in a much quieter, frail tone, "Isn't that enough?"

Solly merely smiled down at you, shaking his head slowly before lowering himself before you, down on one knee, his boot directly in front of your face.

"I want to see you prove it. Do you want me to believe you'll start doing as you're told? Start now. I want you to kiss my boot."

You cringed hearing this, eyeing the grime caked on his shoes with contempt, though with a sickening certainty, he was dead serious. He nudged his shoe a little closer to your face, watching you wince at the sight of them. You were so tired, and begging was beyond pointless by now. The best you could muster was a half-hearted glance up at Solly, searching for a shred of humanity yet seeing nothing but grim excitement from the man.

You lowered your head closer to his boot, trying to steel your resolve and to try and get this over with as fast as possible, though as soon as you got close enough for the tip of your nose to graze the boot's leather, you involuntarily gagged at the muddy smell, knowing you were about to put your mouth directly there.

You could feel your face heating with humiliation as you heard the two men laughing at your misery. Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to go again, holding your breath to avoid enduring the smell. Shutting your eyes, you gave a light kiss to the leather as quickly as you could before pulling away again. Miraculously, you'd escaped without any dirt on your mouth, though the after-feeling the boot's leather left on your lips was revolting enough. 

Taking your chin in his rough hand, he tilted your face up in his direction. Solly grumbled, "You can do better than that cadet- do it again."

Your jaw dropped; how could he still need more from you? "But you said-"

"And now I'm saying do it again!" He grasped your face a little tighter before letting go. It wasn't painful, but in such a vulnerable position, you couldn't help but yelp in pain as you anxiously looked down at the dirty boot.

You felt so broken down and humiliated you wanted to cry, but your will to escape this situation outweighed the fear. Drawing in another deep breath, you forced your head back down. Just as you were about to leave another quick kiss, you felt Solly's hand clamp down on the back of your neck, pushing your head forward and forcing you to keep your lips locked harder against his boot. You wretched at the feeling of muck on the corner of your lips through grit teeth. It hurt to keep holding your breath, but you endured anyway as Solly forced you to remain in the compromising position. 

When he eventually let your neck go, your head shot up at once as you spat. No dirt entered your mouth, and you could feel it on your lips as you tried to rub it off on your shoulder. From behind, you felt Demo's hand squeeze your shoulder, "Atta, girl! I knew ya had it in ya!"

You were about to try and wriggle your shoulder out of his hold, but to your surprise, Demo climbed off your back willingly as Solly rose from his kneel in front of you. You had no idea why he did it until you heard Solly sneaking up close behind you before speaking,

"Let me look at the wound." Obviously, he was talking to himself as if you could take off your bloodied, dirt-smeared work pants. Using the same ax Demo used to separate your shirt from your body, Solly tore the denim fabric directly over your rear, forcing the waist to widen enough for him to slip them off. He struggled, trying to pull them down over your heavy-duty work boots before he pulled those off as well. Your undergarments slipped off along with your trousers, leaving you without a single remaining shred of decency.

The frigid air ran over your wound with chilly needle-like pricks, and you could tell Solly had re-opened the wound, pulling your pants off causing fresh, hot blood to spill over the crusted dry wound. 

From his position on the sidelines, Demo whistled lowly, apparently impressed seeing the wound no longer obstructed by clothing. "Nice shootin! That's a deep one, alright!" 

Biting down on your cheek, you felt Solly's thick fingers awkwardly prodding at the sensitive, wounded flesh. You knew better than to hope Solly had any intention of patching you up; he only stripped you down like this to appraise his work. You weren't a wounded comrade to him; you were nothing more than his prey.

Solly crouched beside you, stroking his fingers against your hip, barely grazing the wound as he growled, "You're not sneaky. You Engineers, couped up in your little nests all day, bet you love it when you get in on the action. Bet you love getting roughed up like this."

Forcing yourself to face him, you shook your head; it was pointless to try and reason with him; whatever logic he was running on now, you couldn't hope to comprehend. 

He grinned, watching you continue struggling and cling to your last desperate hope of escaping. "Or do you just like the attention? You slack off to get us frustrated- it turns you on, doesn't it? I bet you've been waiting for this, waiting for someone to come and teach you a lesson."

Even with just your clothes torn off, before either of them really got their hands on you or even fully undressed, a pit of self-resentment settled in your stomach, and as you lay there with your hands cuffed behind your back and your belly in the dirt you couldn't help but blame yourself for all this. "If only you'd done your job like you were supposed to, you wouldn't be here! For God's sake, why couldn't you just do what you're told!" you mentally scolded, feeling the long-since burning shame intensifying slightly. To your disgust, you glanced at Solly as he picked up your inside-out, discarded pants, finding the area torn up by his bullet thickly saturated with blood. He held the scrap up to his nose, inhaling deeply, moaning as he exhaled and grunted with satisfaction. You recoiled, but he looked back at you, his face sickeningly amused, "You've been a fine little game to hunt- shame it all ends here."

You sobbed, "Please, you don't need to go through with this! You had your fun; I've learned my lesson; you don't need to take this any further!"

You could hear Demo chuckling behind you, "Aw, she must think the fun's already over. Poor lassie." 

There wasn't enough light to make anything out, and you were too broken to look either of them in the face any longer. The two men worked like one, positioning you exactly how they wanted to take you. You could feel Demo's hands on your hips, guiding you back and positioning you to straddle his lap. His hands tickled the sides of your body as his fingers ran up and down your skin in a mocking gesture of comfort. Demo's belly brushed against your back as he held you square and in place while Solly undressed. You felt Demo grinding his hard dick against your inner thigh, his strong hands keeping you locked in place despite your instinct to pull away from the unwanted advance. As unpleasant as the contact was, you were still shivering from the cold and secretly enjoyed the fleeting sensation of his body heat against your skin before he leaned back away from you. His gut, well padded by a layer of adipose over his stocky muscles and broad frame, felt warm against your shivering body. Demo was warm, but he sure wasn't comforting.

It didn't last long; as Solly drew nearer, Demo lay back, keeping you upright on his lap. You felt Solly's fist grab you by the hair, jerking you forward without warning; the sudden pain made you tense up, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth.

Solly growled, "Consider this overtime slacker. You'd better keep up."

You could feel Solly was already turned on from the thrill of tracking you down and forcing you to degrade yourself in front of himself and Demo. And sickeningly, you realized he probably got turned on watching his friend man-handling you, his little cadet, before forcing you to stay upright and obediently in place, waiting for him to get in on the action. 

Solly smirked, looking over your shoulder at Demo, "What do ya say, will you do the honors of going in first?" 

It was a sick joke, knowing they were just moments away from forcing you to endure both at once. Demo laughed lazily, "Cheers, lad."

It was agonizingly slow, feeling Demo force himself inside of you. Unfortunately, you realized he was naturally well endowed, and feeling his manhood pushing inside made you cry out in pain. He was already fully erect and even slightly lubed by a bit of spit he crudely coated his shaft with, though it hardly made any of this easier on your end. You weren't turned on and could focus on nothing but the awful burning stretch of Demo splitting you open. 

Solly had the grace to wait for his co-conspirator to fully situate himself inside before he joined in. You felt Demo's bruising hold on your thighs, forcefully rocking you forward as he started thrusting up. The entire time Demo worked on you from below, Solly had your hair in his fist, using it to jerk your head up to look at him, forcing you to give him your full attention again.

Solly growled, "Use your teeth, and you're dead; I mean it. Unless you want me to force it up your ass, you better behave, got it?" 

You forced yourself to nod, trying to push down the nauseating disgust. As Solly shuffled forward a little bit, you trembled with fear, and you were almost too scared to move when you felt his head prod against your mouth. 

This hesitance resulted in another harsh tug against your head. "Open up. Now." 

It was a simple command, but one you weren't sure you were strong enough to carry out. But with Solly's threat ringing in the back of your mind, you forced yourself to comply, trying not to jerk away or give him any further reason to punish you.

The Demo had slowed down a little, though he kept himself painfully deep inside as he wanted to get a good look as his friend continued to violate you. Clearly getting off on your suffering as he throbbed watching all this unfold. 

The feeling of both inside made you sick to your core, but you tried as hard as possible to close your eyes and think of anything but where you were now as the two began moving in earnest. You could hear Demo grunting with exertion and arousal as he picked up his pace, forcing you to ride his lap while he chased his climax. The pain of struggling to breathe with Solly's cock in your mouth made you gag, your tongue awkwardly writhing against him with uncoordinated movements. It would have been a blessing to feel his precum beginning to dribble down your throat if it wasn't so vile. 

Just as he was about to burst, you felt Solly retracting quickly, keeping your head in place with his fist in your hair and your face up, looking up at him. You coughed and wheezed as you forced full gulps of air into your lungs before you were caught by surprise when you felt him shooting his seed directly onto your face. The gunk landed in the center of your face, leaking down over your mouth and chin. The foul stuff falling in thick droplets down your chin and neck. Unfortunately, you accidentally inhaled a rogue splatter of semen in the process, the feeling of the warm, sticky residue making you wretch loudly despite the small amount. 

In the moment, you weren't even sure you felt human anymore. You were so beaten down by the past few hours psychologically and physically that you felt hollow and numb inside. Likely, it would be a while before the terror and disgust truly set in, but right now, you were nothing but a warm body, a scrap of meat. Chewed up and spat back out by a couple of predators.

At some point, Demo pulled out after keeping himself buried inside you long after he climaxed, enjoying the feeling of your warm body stretched around his sensitive cock. But you had no idea how long that was, and it wasn't until you felt Demo carefully shuck you off his lap to get back on his feet and redress that you realized he'd already come. 

You weren't even relieved when they eventually let go, feeling the cold ground below your bare skin as you waited motionless, watching the two pull their clothes back on with dull, vacant eyes. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you didn't even feel yourself crying; you were too tired, practically dead to the world. As you pouted, you felt as impotent as a child, waiting for your guardian to take you back home and let you rest. But the men before you were no guardians, and you had no idea how long it would be until you returned to your own bed.

"You did better than I thought, cadet. I always knew you were holding out on us." Now fully dressed, Solly appeared to take a moment to appraise you honestly, scanning you up and down, mentally evaluating how serious your wounds would become in the morning."What'd you think, Demo? Has she earned a lift back home yet?" 

Your head throbbed, and your vision spun too much to focus clearly on Demo's face, though even you could see the cold-hearted smile as he held his chin in his fist, pretending to ponder the question to further draw out your suffering. By now, your mind had already begun to shut itself down in the name of self-preservation. 

You looked up, seeing two men you recognized but who you would never see as comrades, much less friends, again. You didn't feel like an Engineer anymore, or even human. You felt like nothing more than slaughtered prey in the den of a predator. Cruelly left alive to bleed out with no idea what would come next.

"Ah, I suppose she's earned it. We ought to let her off easy for such good behavior." 

His eyes shined with excitement as he regarded the pitiful state you'd been reduced to with pride as he continued, "But, the night is still so young. It'd be a shame to bring her home right away, wouldn't ya say?"

[wincestdailyheadcanons]

Wincest Unhinged #4 Bobby hadnt told Dean how bad Sam really was after the hounds. He doesn't tell Dean  Sam stayed awake for 4 days straight meticulously stitching Deans torn flesh back together, doesn't mention that he talked Sam out of going to the neighbors and asking for donations.

Thank God he asked Sam what kind of donations he was looking for, because Sam looked at him, eyes dark, cold, and so very empty that Bobby wondered if he was possessed, and said with an eerie calmness; "His organs are shredded, he needs new ones."

Bobby drugged Sam's food that night, convincing him that Dean would be upset if Sam didn't take care of himself.

Sam ate a peanut butter sandwich with one hand, and looked through one of the books he had dug up with the other, and eventually, passed out.

Bobby knew Sam was going to be pissed, and Sam could hate him for the rest of his life, but he was doing what was best. While Sam slept, Bobby prepared the funeral pyre, the salt, everything. He had to be very careful to move Dean's body, Sam had been sleeping with it, curled protectively around his brother's decomposing shell. Bobby had to hold his breath to keep from gagging.

He hoped he had given Sam enough medication to keep him asleep. He hadn't.

The moment Bobby tried to move Sam's hand away from Deans shoulder, he found himself fighting back the instinct to yell when he saw Deans skin slip off his body like a piece of dried leather and fall to the bed. He felt something press against his head, and heard the click of a gun.

"Fuck are you doing?" Sam asked as if he was inquiring about the forecast.

Bobby raised his hands in surrender; "Son, you gotta let him go, come on, you know Dean w-"

Sam pulled the trigger. Bobby felt his heart drop, unsure if the gun was empty, or if by dumb luck, had jammed.

"Dont tell me what Dean would want, he would want to be here, and no one is taking him from me."

 Bobby gave a small nod; "Okay, Sam. I'm…I'm just gonna go hit the books again, okay?"

"That's fine. Let me know if you find anything."

Sam came downstairs an hour later when Bobby called for him, telling him about a Shaman in Louisiana. Sam listened intently, taking notes.

"I'm going to take your truck." Sam told him. "I cant have Dean sitting in the backseat, too many people might see him."

No way in hell this Shaman thing was going to work, he was sending Sam on a wild goose chase and he knew it, but there was no way Bobby was going to let Sam put Dean's body in a cooler and haul it across the country.

"How about we bury his body?" Bobby suggested, and was pretty sure Sam was going to make sure the gun worked properly this time based on the look he gave.

"I can make a casket with a spell that will keep his body safe." He lied. "We just gotta get dirt from the location where he died, we can put him somewhere private where I can put up warding, then you can come back for the Impala.

Sam thought for a moment, fingers fidgeting with Deans amulet, glancing upstairs where Dean was, and then to Bobbys relief, nodded. "I'll go pack. we'll head out in the morning."

At sunrise Sam carried Dean out to the truck and gently placed Deans body in the casket Bobby had prepared, the wood littered with carved runes and different languages. Bobby pretended not to see Sam lean down and kiss his brother's lips ignoring the orange fluid leaking from his mouth, before promising; "I'm gonna come back for you."

[whichcouldmeannothing]

everywhere at the end of time (memoryloss!spiderdads)

I COULDNT GET THIS OUT OF MY HEAD me and my friend were gossiping about memory loss aus and this appeared...

i probably won't write this out but i wanted u guys to see it and scream w me

thank u for the warm reception for paper rings <3 let me finish some stuff up and then I'll get smth out for u

why yes this is post btsv i just wanted miles here

Peter doesn't blame them, really.

When Miguel told him that a Spider-Person had gone insanely rogue and created a memory-erasing gun, Peter wasn't even that surprised. There was plenty he would want to forget as Spider-Man, certain endorsements and franchises that displayed his mask.

Then Miguel told him that this guy saw their entire family killed by the Sinister Six, and was stuck in a Mysterio-induced hallucination of the memory. They relived it over and over again before the Avengers in their universe found them.

And Peter doesn't blame them at all for doing that.

But what he is doing here in Earth-5338 is making sure that this Spider-Person doesn't do this to other Spider-People. There's a decent amount of them here, Gwen, Miles and Jessica. It's a risky mission of course, but it should just be destroy-the-gizmo and extract-them.

This should be easy.

They're in their lab in Earth-5338. A spare suit hangs from a case, light blue with pink and white accents. Spinner, a sign by it reads. On the wall behind it are drawings of the spider in action, drawn in crayon.

It's something Mayday has done, and his chest constricts.

Someone lays a hand on him, ever-cautious, and Peter looks up at Miguel. It's battle time, so his mask is pulled up. But Peter knows that under it, his lips are just-kissed glossy. He grins at the memory of their pre-mission makeout session. He leans forward, careful to keep his voice down.

"Care for a repeat, ninety-nine?" Miguel has the shame to turn away. His cheeks are probably flaring red, and Peter pulls him closer.

Miguel traces two fingers down Peter's arm, stopping at his wrist. "

"Stay safe." Commanding. It's his way of affection.

"Back to you." Peter replies.

The memory cuts off here. The orange hologram freezes, and Miguel is allowed to fixate on the unhidden affection in Peter's eyes. The colour always reminded him of how Peter drank his tea. English breakfast, with enough milk to turn it opaque and turned sweet with an ungodly amount of sugar.

There's a small smile there on him, and Miguel wants to live in this moment again.

"Lyla, again."

"Miguel, this-"

"Again." He growls it this time.

The orange figures reset and all Miguel looks at is Peter. He will always turn to Peter first. He walks up to the costume case, laying his fingers on the sign.

"Is that me?" The memory breaks like shattered glass. Miguel turns around, and about ten feet below him is Peter.

But somehow, it isn't his Peter.

Miguel turns away again and breathes. He does it slow and quiet, unlike how his heart sounds like in his ears.

"I asked for you when I woke up again. I called you the scary big one, and people seemed to know who you were," Peter's joking, of course he's joking, but it's the way his voice sounds. The way his smile, his stupid grin is so evident in his voice that makes Miguel grip his table, until his claws are leaving marks.

"You know who I am, don't you?" Peter asks. "Who I was or whatever?"

Peter woke up with Miguel holding his hand. Peter pushed him away and asked for Aunt May. When rebuffed, he asked for Uncle Ben. He was scared of Miguel, eyes going wide at the talons on his suit.

The doctor eventually got him sedated and asleep again, but he pulled Miguel aside after. "He might not get his memories back. But we'll play our odds. We'll take it slow. "

Miguel nods. He didn't have to have the Spider-Sense, to know that Miles and Gwen were listening behind the wall. He could hear them whispering. He plans to scold them later, so he doesn't have to picture his future without his Peter.

"We have to keep memory dumps slow, so he won't get overwhelmed." Is there anything else other than being Spider-Man that might shock 616-B, something very different from what he knew before he became Spider-Man?"

"You were beside my bed. You know me, don't you?" Peter asks again.

Miguel breathes in. Breathes out. He closes his eyes.

"No."

-

<3

[the-muppet-joker]

Their forbidden romance was causing quite the stir...

Part 1

Warnings: NSFW, muppet holes, Joker's cum causes insanity, semi public sex

♤♡◇♧

After Kermit had massacered all the other muppets under the Joker's guidance, the muppet was frequently spotted with him during his crime sprees, laughing almost as hard as the Clown Prince of Crime himself. Many rumors were circulating both Gotham and the Muppet Realm: Was Kermit the victim of Joker's brainwashing? Were they partners in crime? Or were they... something more?

"Mista J would nevah have left me for a Muppet like him!" Cried Harley Quinn to one brave reporter seeking answers. "Not to mention he ain't exactly a lady... and Puddin' has always been a heterosexual!"

Eventually this reporter was able to track down The Joker and his Muppet Companion, interview them, and escape with his life.

"HA! Why not," chuckled Joker, "Put our interview in the papers, it'll be a good laugh."

"And," whined Kermit, "it'll shut up that bitch Harley Quinn and her heteronormativity for good!"

The reporter nervously cleared his throat. "So... are you straight, Mr. Joker sir?"

"FUCK NO." Joker growled.

"And you, Mr. The Frog?"

"Never. Miss Piggy kept me trapped in that relationship for years." Kermit confessed.

The reporters eyes shifted between the pair before finally settling on the clown's hand resting tenderly on Kermit's lower back. "So... are you two lovers?"

Joker grinned maniacally and began to trace Kermit's muppet hole with his long, elegant fingers, eliciting a shudder from the felt frog. He leabed down so that he was breathing down Kermit's neck as he spoke.

"What do you think, Kermie? Should we show the nice reporter man if we're lovers?" He practocally purred the last word, causing Kermit to whimper desperately as his muppet hole began to self lubricate in anticipation. "Y-yes Joker..."

Without waiting for another second, Joker unleashed his throbbing white member and pulled Kermit down onto it, filling his muppet hole entirely.

"AAAAAHHHHHH," Kermit moaned like a whore, arms flailing.

"Oh my," blushed the reporter, using his pen and paper to record the interaction for the artical set to be published tomorrow morning. This story was sure to get him promoted, the reporter mused, picturing the nice fancy office they would give him. He hoped the title of Head Reporter would be impressive enough that his father would finally pay attention to him, instead of spending all his energy caring for his sickly horse.

He was startled from his thoughts by the sound of wet fucking.

Joker and Kermit were really going at it; Joker pulling the muppet up and down on his impressive, leaking shaft. As the precum soaked into Kermit'a felt, he began going insane. His eyes began to glow green and he started laughing maniacally in between his moans and whimpers.

The Joker was similarly cackling as he reached his climax. "Ooh, yes, HAHAHA, fuck, who's heterosexual now, Harley Quinn??" He exclaimed as he burst ropes of thick cum into Kermit.

Kermit went absolutely insane. He was thrashing about, almost rabid, on Joker's softening cock, laughing like a lunatic and utterly delirious from being filled with Joker's seed.

"Wow," said the reporter.

Kermit pulled out a gun.

"Better start running..." Joker laughed darkly, "once he gets a dose of my Joker Cum... he becomes even more insane and violent than I am..."

"Got it," said the reporter, and started running. Kermit's animallistic laughter echoed after him as he shot bullet after bullet after the reporter.

"Aw.... I missed..." the muppet growled. Joker chuckled. "We'll get him next time, lover."

♤♡◇♧

AN: let me know what I should do in part 2... hope you all enjoyed.

[snootlestheangel]

Cheers to the Unknown Pt.3

Monster/cryptid au ft. Just A Dude!Ghost; canon-divergent, alternate universe. More details here (parts are not a coherent story necessarily just scenarios as they come to me !subject to change!;all tagged under "cheers to the unknown") TW: some body horror (ie eating things you should NOT eat); language

More of Ghost interacting with Lightning Nymph!Soap for the first time

The first time Ghost ever felt any fear when interacting or being in the presence of a monster was with Soap, only a few days after they had met. They had just gotten back from blowing the oil rig, and the way the Scot kept fidgeting had started to make Ghost nervous. He first tried to brush it off as some inhuman creature trait he didn't understand, but he never could be certain. After all, he had never been told what exactly Soap is.

Ghost is confident that if he had known what Soap is sooner, he would not have been afraid.

It had all happened so fast.

First, the vehicles were stopped. Alejandro seemed rather annoyed, but with a small sniff, he recognized the anxiety welling up in Soap. Ghost knew Alejandro to be a werewolf before they had even landed in Las Almas, and he was vaguely aware of their ability to smell more complicated things like emotions.

Ghost didn't miss the way Soap's fingers crackled as he rubbed them together.

They filed out of the truck, only to be confronted by Graves. Tension quickly filled the humid air as Alejandro and Graves argued. Every hair on Ghost's body stood on end as Soap stepped forward to snap at the American. The tingling sensation that accompanied didn't go unnoticed by anyone present, and it left a nauseating knot in Ghost's stomach. He looked at Soap, hoping the man could give him some sign that he doesn't need to be afraid, that he shouldn't be afraid. But he doesn't get that.

He instead got a glimpse of bright shocks running through Soap's mohawk before all hell broke loose. A gun had been fired, and before Ghost knew it, he was looking over to see Soap on the ground, the pain on his face giving away that he had been the one shot. Ghost assumed he had blacked out a bit as the need to survive took over.

He doesn't remember much after that.

Ghost couldn't help the shaky breath that left him after hearing the deep rumble of Soap's voice crackle through his earpiece. Even now, Ghost is afraid. No longer because of Soap, but for Soap.

Johnny can get hurt.

Ghost's new mantra. There was something so intimidating about the sergeant, something so ethereal it made Ghost believe he was the furthest thing from human to ever exist. But, he was clearly wrong. If Johnny can bleed, can be hurt, then he can be killed. And if he can be killed, then that blood is on Ghost's hands.

Ghost kept himself alive, kept himself moving forward, closer to Johnny. It seemed every step was agony. Luckily, the banter he found himself engaging in with Soap helped ground him. There were definitely times where Ghost could tell that Soap was injured. The way he'd drift off towards the end of a sentence, the times he'd take a second too long before answering, the occasional heaving breaths; all signs he was injured.

But then there were the times Soap seemed to be just fine, perfectly healthy and a bit manic.

Ghost never wanted to acknowledge how those moments always occurred after bright, showy flashes of lightning.

Then they were back together, racing away in a stolen truck. The ride to the safehouse started out loud; gunshots ringing all around them as Ghost frantically tried to get them the hell out of there. Eventually, they were no longer being pursued, and Soap was able to turn and sit in the seat properly. Ghost glanced at him as he let out a wince, his left arm darting up to his right.

"We'll get your arm looked at soon, Johnny." Ghost said quietly, and Soap hummed in response. Ghost swore he could feel the vibrations of the hum, but shrugged it off as adrenaline. They rode quietly until they made it to the safehouse, and Ghost allowed Soap to take the lead when heading inside.

"Something's here." Soap had whispered to him after brushing his fingers against the fuse box outside, but Ghost kept his concerns to himself. He especially didn't like the use of 'something', as it implied that whatever was inside was not human and posed a higher threat to the pair.

After giving each other heart attacks, Rudy explained how he got out of the Vaquero compound safely. He and Ghost exchanged pieces of information while Soap wandered off to the side of the room, clearly looking for something. Ghost hadn't realized the sergeant was acting oddly until Rudy leaned slightly to frown at him, and Ghost followed his gaze. Soap was currently prying a hole into the wall, albeit struggling due to his injury.

"You okay, hermano?" Rudy asked, but Soap didn't respond. He finished his supposed task, letting out a sigh of relief as he grabbed a few wires from inside the wall and pulled on them. Neither Rudy nor Ghost were prepared for him to strip the rubber cover off and bite down hard onto the copper inside. Loud sparking shot through the room and through them, leaving Ghost shaking just slightly. A nearby lamp, despite being off, blew its bulb.

"Soap, what the fuck?" Ghost snapped, not aware of how shaky his voice was. Soap looked over at them, the wires still in his mouth, barely muffling the crackles of energy. Rudy stared at him with a slightly agape mouth, clearly disturbed even despite knowing Soap is a fellow inhuman. Soap doesn't say anything, just stares at them as if he hadn't understood what Ghost had said.

"Um, Soap? Are you okay?" Rudy asked, and the Scot slightly cocked his head before his expression darkened and he looked back to Ghost. If Ghost hadn't just survived the horrors of being hunted by Shadow Company with him, he would have been convinced that Soap was ready to kill him.

"'Mere." Is all Soap said, gesturing vaguely at Ghost. Traitors. Ghost snapped at himself as his legs shook and he unsteadily made his way over. Soap watched him, blue eyes literally glowing in the darkness. His expression wasn't the usual peace and energy Ghost had grown fond off, but rather sour and filled with rage. Ghost anxiously sat beside Soap at his direction, and once again was overwhelmed with the feeling of being too close to a lightning strike for it to be safe.

"Fucker poisoned me." Soap snarled around the wires still in his mouth, and Ghost finally noticed he had been sucking on them like they were straws. He looked down at Soap as he turned, and soon the problem was evident. Soap's right arm, close to his shoulder, bore a gunshot wound, and the wound was surrounded by black bruising that dripped away like veins. Ghost swallowed past the metallic taste building in the back of his throat, past the tightness in his chest, as he reached out towards Soap with shaky hands.

Soap watched him from the corner of his eye, intense blue nearly blinding to look at, judging him as he quietly worked on getting the pieces of bullet out of his arm. Rudy took the first and largest chunk after Ghost set it down, sniffing it slightly after cleaning it of blood.

"Fiberglass is your weakness?" Rudy asked, and Soap grunted again. For a moment, it seemed Soap didn't recognize the word, or at least needed to connect it to something else to remember what fiberglass was.

"'S nae a conductor." Soap grumbled, and Ghost let out a breath as he removed the final piece. Soap looked at him again, this time a bit brighter than before. Ghost instantly knew Soap could sense his fear, sense the pounding of his heart, and wanted to do his best to assure Ghost he's not a threat.

"Thanks, Lt. Ah'll be back to mahself soon, dinnae worry." Soap muttered, clearly forcing a smile onto his face in hopes of calming Ghost. Ghost nodded softly, standing perhaps a bit too quick as he busied himself with cleaning up after the emergency procedure.

"So, you are acting weird because fiberglass isn't a conductor?" Rudy asked, clearly still just as confused about the sergeant's odd behavior.

"Aye. It's an insulator. I'm pure energy. No' a good match." Soap snapped back, and suddenly everything made a lot more sense. Ghost had even compared standing by him like the sensation one would get before getting struck by lightning. It was fitting, as the truth often can be. His usual personality had been tainted by an insulator, and it made sense, Ghost supposed. Something that would limit or damage Ghost's natural functioning like blood flow is certain to do the same, maybe not quite as drastic, but alas he is only human. He's learned that monsters and such tend to be a lot more dramatic about pain and injury. He guessed it's because they often cannot be harmed like humans can.

"I'm bloody steamin' over the fact that he knew. Graves knows mah weakness, but he shouldn't. He's a blabbering eejit an' he's nae supposed teh have access to information like that." Soap broke the silence rather suddenly. Ghost turned to look at him, and the fear he had felt earlier slowly slipped away as he took in the look on Soap's face. It was a mixture of rage and hurt, but somewhere deep in it all, there was a level of fear one would expect to see from a little child. Ghost took a deep breath as he watched Soap wrap his arms around his legs.

He was terrified.

"Soap, what are you?" Ghost asked, and the Scot snapped his head up to stare at him. He said something, a word Ghost never heard and wouldn't recognize. Rudy was equally confused, and so Soap cleared his throat and tried again.

"Lightning Nymph. What I said is the real word, but I forgot no one knows it anymore." Soap drifted off at the end of his sentence, brow furrowing in thought.

"You've been around a while, haven't you, Johnny?" Ghost asked, and Soap nodded, still keeping his eyes on the floor this time.

"Mah parents finally agreed to getting out into the world a bit more. My kind aren't exactly easy teh find these days. Much less one like me." It hurt Ghost to hear how quiet Soap spoke, but he also understood something. He understood what it was like to be different, cast out and regarded with trepidation.

Simon Riley may be human, but Ghost isn't assumed to be the same.

"One like you?" Rudy asked and Soap once again nodded.

"Aye, being of lightning was already rare. Ahm sure ahm the only one left." Soap seemingly disappeared into himself as he sank further against the wall, still occasionally drawing more energy from the wires he had exposed. Now, Ghost understood why he saw so much fear in Soap's eyes: he's new to the modern world, a rarity in every sense of the word. His fear is rooted deep, from a time long before Ghost, long before Simon Riley.

"So, how would Graves know that information? About what you are and how to hurt you?" Rudy asked, and Soap shook his head.

"Ah dinnae ken. Ah've never had somethin' like tha' happen before." Soap whispered, and Ghost found himself next to the nymph without realizing it.

"We've got your back, Johnny. Don't you worry." He muttered, and Soap's expression softened as he stared back, almost reading into Ghost's very being.

"Thanks, Lt." He whispered back, punctuating his statement with a gentle punch to Ghost's shoulder.

"FUCK!" Ghost shouted as a rather painful shock coursed through him at the contact. Soap immediately erupted into laughter, falling over away from Ghost as his shoulders shook.

"Oh, ahm sorry! I dinnae do it on purpose, I swear!" Soap exclaimed between bouts of laughter as Ghost kicked at him.

"Glad to have you back, Johnny." He mumbled once Soap calmed.

"Glad to be back."

Taglist (want added?): @tacticaltaxonomist @cthulhusstepmom @cathnoneofyourbusiness @thorougly-melted-brains @sp4z-4tt4ck @49saltpeppershakers @bluebrryice

[f1-disaster-bi]

Can you write Lando centric angst hurt/comfort for tattoo au?

Hmmm

Lando was alone in the studio when the power went out. He paused for a moment, dropping his pencil when it happened and just sighed. He knew it was a possibility. He knew that it was the storms that they had this week. He had planned to be home before it hit, but he'd lost track of time again as he checked his phone and saw the weather warning pop up. Lando just shook his head as he heard the rain start to thunder down around the studio and began to tidy away his things. He didn't have to have this design finished for another few days so he tucked it away. He'd promised Max and Lance that he'd stop bringing his work home with him, that he'd start relaxing more and he meant it. He checked all the switches, making sure they were switched to off and unplugged anything that he was worried about causing an electrical fire in case there was another surge. It was as he was gathering his bags that he heard it first. The sound of someone jingling the handle of the front door, jingling it so hard that it made Lando freeze. His chest constricted painfully, and it felt like the world was closing in on him for a moment. There was a crash from the front of the store that made Lando run. His hands scrambled for the door to his office. He could feel himself working himself into a panic attack as he slammed it shut. His fingers missed the lock at first, trembling too hard but eventually he got it done before he was desperately trying to find something to barricade it because his mind was being thrown back to a year ago. He could feel the gun being pressed against him as if it was real. He could smell their breath, feel it on his neck. His hands scrambled to the fading scar on his stomach, hands pressing down hard, expecting hot sticky blood to be spilling over his fingers once more but there was nothing as he listened for footsteps outside the door. Lando's phone lit up on his desk, and Lando scrambled for it, tucking himself under the desk as he tried to breathe. Lance's name was on the screen and Lando hit answer quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. "Lando, are you on your way home?", Lance asked from the other end of the phone but all he got was Lando wheezing in reply, "Lando? Lando, what's wrong?" "They're here Lance", Lando whispered, terrified tears spilling over his cheeks, "They came back. They're here. They're here" "Lando, baby, they aren't there. They got them, remember? They can't hurt you anymore", Lance reassured Lando before he seemed to pull away from the phone, yelling for Max before his voice was back, "We're going to come get you, okay?" "No!", Lando whispered loudly, choking on his fear, "You can't, Lance you can't. They'll hurt you" "Baby, we're on the way", Max's voice came over the speaker, "No one is going to hurt you, or hurt us. We're going to be there in a few minutes, and I promise you, we'll all be okay" "But what if they're still here?", Lando whimpered, trying to breathe but he was so scared. He didn't want to do this again. He didn't think he could survive this again. "Hey, we're right here, no one is going to hurt you", Lance reassured, "Can you do something for us, babe? Can you tell us five things you can see?" Lando tried to listen to their voices. He listened to their soft encouragments as Lando stuttered through listening five things he could see before moving onto the next round until he could hear Max knocking on the office door. His muscles were sore as he tried to climb out from under the desk. He managed to crawl over to the door and unlock it before he tucked himself against the wall out of fear. He waited for Max to appear, and the moment he did, Lando was scrambling for him, sobbing into is shoulder once Max had him. Lance sat behind them, his hands were soft as they soothed Lando's back while Max held him through the last of his panic attack. "We've got you", Lance repeated as Max kissed Lando's head softly, just holding him close, "You're safe" Lando, as Max carried him to the car, wondered if he woud truly feel safe because even after a year, they were still haunting him.

[screechthemighty]

This chapter was originally going to be a lot shorter, but I decided to expand it a bit for the sake of not having two short chapters to close things out. Epilogue tomorrow maybe??? And then we'll be continuing the Vash POV fic "moments until the crash", and then the alternative July fic. Eventually. Anyways, enjoy!

the unknowable tomorrow | a tristamp fanfic part eighteen: wolfwood and meryl

cw: suicide concerns, poor coping with alcohol

.

It was pitch black out when they emerged. They were in the middle of a town somewhere. It was late enough that the only place still open looked like a bar. Something about the place felt familiar, though Wolfwood couldn’t quite place how. If they’d showed up in the daytime, maybe, but right now their surroundings just looked like the vague shapes of buildings…and one very wobbly figure in red.

A very wobbly figure in red who was being followed.

They both ran to Vash’s side immediately. “There you are!” Meryl said brightly. The smile in her voice didn’t match the sharpness in her eyes as she glanced over her shoulder. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Vash looked between the two of them, his nose wrinkling in confusion.  He definitely smelled like he’d been drinking. “I thought you two were asleep,” he said.

“I…” Meryl locked eyes with Wolfwood. From the sudden panic there, she had the same thought he did: that sentence implied he’d seen them earlier, which meant they may have finally hit PE 104. There was another Nicholas D. Wolfwood in town, another Meryl Stryfe. Hopefully, Vash was right and they were asleep, wherever they were. “Uh…we were worried about you,” Meryl said finally.

Vash looked skeptically at Wolfwood. “Okay.” He wouldn’t meet Wolfwood’s eyes. “I’m going back. I promise…”

“Hold that thought. Hey!” Wolfwood turned around and glared at the trio of men following Vash. “You got a problem or something?”

The men stopped. “We saw him first,” said one of them. “You can’t just swoop in and take our – “

Out of the corner of his eye, Wolfwood saw Vash slump slightly. Either he was about to pass out from alcohol consumption, or he’d realized what was going on and wasn’t happy about it. “Listen, it’s too damn late for a fight,” Wolfwood said. “We just want to get back to sleep.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Wolfwood saw one of the men go to draw. Before he could even put himself between the others, Vash’s gun was in his hand, aimed right at the man. His finger was off the trigger, but Wolfwood could only tell because he was standing right next to the guy. To the men chasing him, all they knew was that the infamous Vash the Stampede had them in his sights before the other man could draw.

Wolfwood froze. Meryl froze. The other men froze. And when Wolfwood glanced at Vash he was…crying?

Ah, geez.

“Listen.” Vash’s hand didn’t shake, his aim stayed true, but there were audible tears in his voice. “I’ve had a really bad night, okay? I’d really like to not do this right now.”

Immediately, Wolfwood was torn between two conflicting impulses. The first, of course, was to try and comfort Vash. The second was to start laughing his ass off. Vash being upset, Vash crying, obviously not funny. The way the three men suddenly shrank in on themselves, baffled and a bit embarrassed looking as they watched an infamous outlaw turn into a bubbling, drunken mess in front of them? He almost wished Meryl had her camera. If he couldn’t smell the alcohol on Vash’s breath, he’d swear the man was faking it just to make them feel awkward.

I can work with this, he realized.

“Ah, geez, do you see what you did?” He reached over and carefully pushed Vash’s hand down. “You stalk my friend here, make him cry…you’d be laughed out of the sheriff’s office if you brought him in. What kind of bounty do you think he’s worth? Look at him.” He threw an arm around Vash’s shoulders. “C’mon.”

It was a bit much and he knew it, but the men seemed to be buying it. Meryl quickly jumped in. “This is why we told you to stop wearing red, Brad,” she said. Wolfwood almost, almost cracked at the name choice, but managed to keep a straight face. “You’re really going to get into trouble one day.”

“Don’t know what you do without us,” Wolfwood added. To the men, he said, “Can we wrap this up? We need to get this one to bed.”

Wolfwood wasn’t sure if they’d buy it, but Vash’s tears did a great job making him seem normal. Or maybe the speed of that quick draw had been enough to deter them. They all exchanged glances, spoke briefly among themselves—I don’t know, doesn’t seem like it’s him, do you see how he’s crying—and moved their hands away from their weapons. “You should really tell your buddy not to wear red,” one of them said. “He looks just like…”

“Yeah, trust me, we know.” Wolfwood grabbed Vash by the shoulders and started steering him away. “You folks have a good night.”

He didn’t know where he was going, just that he didn’t want to be here. They walked into the dark streets, following a pattern that would hopefully confuse any tail they might have. “The hotel’s that way,” Vash mumbled.

“Yeah, so are the guys with guns. How drunk are you right now?”

“None of your business.”

Wolfwood stopped to stare at Vash. “Okay, what happened?”

“What…happened?” Vash stared back at her just as incredulously. “It was yesterday!”

“Vash,” Meryl said softly. She pulled up the poncho to show her arm, and the burn wound on it. “Vash, look. It’s us.”

Vash stared at the injury, reached out to touch it. He really seemed to take them in, to finally notice the different clothes and hair.

“…oh.”

And once it sank in, he grabbed them both and hugged them tightly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry…Nico, I’m not mad at you. I mean, I am mad at you, but not mad at you…”

“Hey, hey, take it easy. I’m sure I deserved it.” Wolfwood patted Vash’s back as best he could with his arm pinned. “Uh, what did I do, though?”

“Rollo…”

Oh. That.

“Why don’t we find somewhere more private to talk about this?” Meryl suggested. “I don’t think wandering around town is going to do us any good at this hour.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” Vash sniffed noisily and pulled away from the hug. “Uh…I think the truck is this way. We can sit in there.”

That worked for Wolfwood. If he remembered right, he’d spent this particular night lying bed, trying to fight off a crisis of conscience when he wasn’t drifting in and out of sleep. Meryl had been at the hotel in the morning and Roberto had snored his way through the night despite the tension in the group. There wasn’t any risk of running into their past selves at the truck.

Just as well. Wolfwood wasn’t sure he could face the person he was back then.

.

It felt like years since Meryl had seen that truck. She still had the keys tucked away in her backpack. She could drive away with it right now if she wanted to. But the potential ramifications of stealing from her past self felt extremely daunting, so instead she opened the backseat so the three of them could climb in.

Once they were all safely behind a locked door, Wolfwood cleared his throat. “So,” he said. “Rollo.”

Vash seemed to shrink in on himself at the name. “I read it,” he said. “The paper you gave me. And I’ve been trying to make things better but Jeneora Rock is still gone and Rollo is still…” He buried his face in his hands. “I shouldn’t have gone into the village.”

“Oh, Vash.” Meryl trailed off as she tried to recall what had happened at Jeneora Rock. Dwelling on the details made her head hurt too much, but she could remember broad strokes. There’d been no celebration after the Nevadas were defeated. Instead, the town had…evacuated? Something about the risk of Plant radiation. Which meant fewer people in town, fewer casualties overall. But EG the Mine had still come, and Millions Knives after him. Jeneora Rock had still been torn to its foundations. More people had survived, but they were still without a home, facing a harsh journey that they might not survive.

And they still blamed Vash.

It seemed like Rollo was still dead, too, despite what she remembered as a stronger effort on Vash’s part to go into the windmill village alone. Something different must have passed between him and Wolfwood, if the queasy and guilty look on his face was anything to go by, but it hadn’t changed the outcome. And now they were in the awkward stretch of days between the windmill village and the sand steamer, when Vash and Wolfwood weren’t talking and the tension in the truck had been unbearable as a heat wave.

No wonder Vash had gotten drunk.

“Listen…” Wolfwood cleared his throat. “Vash, I…”

“You can’t leave us, okay?” Vash interrupted. “You can’t. Whatever is in you that’s saying you’re…you’re a monster and you can’t change, it’s wrong. You can. You have. So…” He grabbed Wolfwood’s hand and held it tightly. “Don’t go.”

Meryl was confused until she remembered Wolfwood’s one word answer to why he’d shot Rollo: mercy. He didn’t think Rollo would come back from what had been done to him. And considering what had been done to Wolfwood…

The sudden fear in her heart must have shown on her face because Wolfwood looked between the two of them with an off-guard expression. “I…geez, that’s what you’re…I’m not going anywhere if I can help it. I’ve got too much shit left to do.” Meryl let out a breath, releasing her fear with it. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“I am. But I’m more mad about…all of it.” He lifted his head to look between two of them. “I don’t know what to do. I know I can’t do nothing, but when I get to July…I don’t know what to do. How can you tell when someone isn’t going to change? How can you really tell?”

Meryl didn’t have an answer to that. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that you couldn’t really know. Maybe that was the sacrifice you made, living in a world like this. As much as she wished that question had an answer, where the potential for change had more weight…

“I can’t really afford to think about what-ifs,” Wolfwood said, pragmatic and somber as ever. “All I can do is react to what’s in front of me.”

And what was in front of them was 150 years of bad decisions, of escalating violence, of nothing deterring Knives from his path.

Vash nodded. “Yeah. I know.” He took a deep breath. “I know one thing. No matter what happens, I’ll protect you. I promise.”

“And we’ll protect you,” Meryl said. It was a bit awkward in the enclosed space, but she was just able to give Vash a hug. “We’ll all protect each other.”

She might not have had any answers, but she could give him that much, at least.

She expected Vash to stress that he’d do most of the protecting, but instead he sank into the hug. His weight was so boneless and limp, he probably would’ve squished her if Wolfwood hadn’t joined the hug, hauling Vash off her a bit. “I don’t think this is the best conversation to have when you’re drunk,” he pointed out.

“Haha…yeah…” Vash sighed. “You guys don’t have to go right now, right?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Well, I’m not sleeping out there.”

“We’ll be here for you as long as we can be,” Meryl added.

Vash hummed and went silent. When Meryl looked up, he had his eyes closed, and his breathing had slowed down. “Is…is he already asleep?” she whispered, perplexed.

“Looks like it,” Wolfwood whispered back. “I’d do the arm drop test if he weren’t holding onto me.”

“The what?”

“Y’know, like with babies? If you try to put them down before they’re asleep all the way, they just wake back up. If you can drop their arm and it just kind of flops without them waking up, they’re completely asleep.” He shrugged, or tried to with how much Vash was leaning on him. “Things you pick you pick up when you have to look after the babies.”

“They had you looking after babies at twelve?”

“They had me looking after babies at eight.” Wolfwood didn’t sound resentful; he almost sounded fond. “It started with this one little girl…constantly crying her head off when she got there. She only stopped when I held her. I traded dishes duty to look after her. It was a lot of work, but…she was a good kid. She really was.”

No wonder the younger Wolfwood had seemed so mature. No wonder he felt so responsible for the others. “What happened to her?”

“She got adopted. It happens more with the babies and the really little kids. They seemed like good people. I like to imagine she’s safe, wherever she is. Comfortable, quiet life. That’s all you could ever really hope for.”

Meryl nodded in agreement. “Was it strange, living with so many other kids?”

“I got used to it. It was a hell of a lot better than what I’d left behind. Do you have any siblings?”

“No. Just me.”

“What’s that like?”

It was interesting to realize that what she’d always thought of as normal, even as the default, wasn’t for Wolfwood. It wasn’t the norm for a lot of people, if she was being honest with herself. “Quiet,” she said. “I did ask why I never had a sibling, but my parents never talked about it. They may not have been able to have more.” A pang of guilt shot through her. “I told them I’d write while I was on assignment, but…I forgot. I think I only sent one post card.”

Wolfwood somehow reached around Vash to squeeze her shoulder. “You’ll have time when you get back,” he said. “I’d leave out all the, uh…time travel, though.”

“Definitely. I didn’t even tell them I was going after Vash the Stampede. I thought they’d worry too much.” Her parents were fairly practical people, to be fair, the sort who would think the stories surrounding Vash were wild rumors meant to make him sound scarier. That would all go out the window if they knew she was involved, though. “Do you think I should still do the article? I wouldn’t say everything, but if I could just tell people about the real him…”

“Would they believe it?”

“I don’t know. I just know I want to try.” She glanced up at Vash again. His sunglasses were falling off his face, so she reached up to take them off. “Maybe I’ll ask him in the future, and when he’s more…sober.”

“Yeah, so much for processing alcohol more efficiently. Though since we’re stuck here, I’ve been wondering…how do you get into a university, anyway? It’s one of those things the older kids talked about doing, y’know, to ‘get out of here,’ but I don’t think any of us actually knew how to do that.”

And that was how Meryl ended up giving a more in-depth explanation of her journey to higher education track than she’d expected to give to Wolfwood, along with stories about what the schoolwork was actually like. Wolfwood traded with stories of what it was like being schooled at the orphanage. It sounded like they were taught more practical skills than standard book learning, though that was sometimes due to personal interest than the desire of the teachers. Not all the kids saw the point. Wolfwood himself was somewhere in the middle.

“I didn’t like all of it, like…diagramming sentences? Bullshit. But I like books. I liked learning about things. Wasn’t as crazy about it as some kids, but I tried.”

It made sense, and Meryl recognized the complaints of the others, too. There’d been kids from all walks of like at her old school, and some of them hadn’t taken to the more academic subjects, either. They had already seen a future of being a mechanic on a sand steamer, working at their family store, or maybe joining the military police in a more exciting city. What good would math theories do them?

“To be fair, I didn’t like math, either. But for the rest of it, I tried to think of it as…less about the subject and more about how I learned, if that makes sense? So for me, literature wasn’t really about old dead writers from before the Spacefaring Age. It was about understanding what words mean, how people use them, why they think the way they think, and analyzing that. It helped when I got to focus on reporting.”

They traded stories back and forth the rest of the night, stories of school, of childhood, of two very different lives. Wolfwood only hinted at his life before the orphanage—my uncle was a bastard, glad I didn’t end up the kind of rotten he did—but Meryl still felt like he was opening up. Like she could see the kind of person he might’ve been, had his childhood not been cut off so cruelly.

The kind of person he could still be, if he was only given a chance.

Maybe Meryl could help him get that chance once things were sorted with Vash.

It was a nice thought.

.

As Wolfwood expected, Vash was not happy when the first rays of sunlight woke him up.

“Am I dying?” he mumbled against Wolfwood’s shoulder.

“Nope. Just hungover.”

“Uggggh.” Vash rubbed his eyes. “Out…I need out…”

Wolfwood and Meryl both scrambled to get out of Vash’s way. For a moment, Wolfwood worried Vash was going to puke. Instead, he stumbled for the truck’s water reservoir, shedding his coat as he went. He turned on the nozzle and stuck his entire head under the stream. It was hard to tell if he was drinking it, soaking himself, or both. Considering how he’d coped the last time Wolfwood had seen him drunk, it was probably both. It was a good stretch of time before Vash shut off the nozzle and sank into a miserable crouch. “I’ll refill it before we leave,” he mumbled. “It’s okay.  You can laugh.”

“Uh…” Well, now that Vash mentioned it, he did look pretty pathetic—sopping wet and utterly miserable as a consequence of her own decisions. But it felt mean to say that, and those decisions had been made in the wake of a pretty shitty day, so instead Wolfwood said, “Wasn’t gonna.” He patted Vash’s shoulder. “What did we learn?”

“Drinking only makes the problem worse,” Vash mumbled.

“I was actually gonna say not to mix whiskey and…whatever else you had.” Wolfwood may not have had the most sensitive nose on the planet, but he could usually pinpoint what kind of drunk someone was. Vash had smelled like the whole damn bar. “I don’t think drinking could possibly make your problem any worse.”

“It didn’t exactly make it better.” Vash finally stood up. “Sorry about last night. I really didn’t know it was you guys.”

“I mean, you did just see us a few hours before.”

Vash laughed weakly and rubbed his eyes. “Ugh, yeah. This has all gotten a lot more confusing since…” He gestured to Meryl. “…she showed up. I wasn’t sure if I’d see you again, all things considered.”

Wolfwood was a little surprised himself. Aside from that first appearance, they’d only really seemed to show up in Vash’s lives when he needed them. He had their past selves now…but that’s not enough, is it? I wouldn’t have been able to help him with this.

He wasn’t sure he’d recognize the past version of himself if he saw him. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad one.

“Do you feel better, at least?” Meryl asked as she put Vash’s sunglasses back on his face.

“Physically, less drunk. Emotionally…” Vash looked around. No sign of a portal. “…I don’t know. Can we just sit for a little while?”

This time, they sat on the truck roof instead of inside. Vash stared at the sunrise; Wolfwood focused on scanning their surroundings for any signs of trouble. It was too early for more regular people to be up, but it was never too early for someone to start something.

At least I slept in today. Or at least, I’m pretty sure I did. Meryl’d had to practically break his door down to get him up, but she had been a disturbingly early riser the whole trip. Something about making good time.

“I keep wondering,” Vash said, “if there was any point where things could’ve been different. If there was anything anyone could’ve done to stop this. Not just me, but…anyone.” He rested his chin on his knees. “I just want to understand. I know, it’s probably a waste of time…”

Meryl shook her head. “I get it. I do. Understanding people is part of my job. For what it’s worth…I think some people just react to things differently. Two people can go through the worst things you imagine and come out the other side with different mentalities. It happens all the time.”

Wolfwood grunted in agreement. “There were other people in the Eye,” he said, “that I knew were from similar situations to me. I thought maybe some of them would be safe to talk to, but a lot of them had bought into the whole thing. Guess it was how they coped. Believing the world deserves to end is one way to make all the shit they have you do seem okay. You really never know. Your brain…does what it takes.”

“I know.” Vash’s hands gripped his sleeves. “I thought about not going, about just hiding somewhere, running from him forever. But I knew that wouldn’t stop anything…and I need to look him in the eyes, you know? I need to see, one last time…”

He didn’t finish the thought. He kept staring at the sunrise. When he spoke again, he sounded like a little kid: “Can you tell me something good? Anything good?”

Well, shit. That was a heavy ask for a guy whose life had been nonstop misery for a while. But, when Wolfwood thought about it…

“I had a bullet in my side when I got to Hopeland,” he said. “Which…not the best start, I know. But I’d been walking with that wound for I don’t even know how long. I’d already decided I wasn’t going to die…that I didn’t want to. And I prayed for the first time in a long time, that I’d get to live. People found me. Total strangers. I don’t even remember their faces, but they cared enough to save some random kid. Maybe…there’s more people like that out there than we realize.”

He was surprised how quickly the memory came back to him. It wasn’t a day he dwelled on all that often—mostly because he couldn’t remember huge chunks of it, probably on account of the blood loss and all. But it was still there, still something good. The day he was set free, if only for a little while.

“I think so, too,” Meryl said. “It’s hard to be kind in a world like this, but people still try if you give them the chance. I’ll definitely do what I can to give people more chances.” She elbowed Vash gently. “I can’t let you do all the work.”

Vash laughed. There wasn’t a hint of tears in it, and his smile was so blindingly genuine that Wolfwood couldn’t help smiling back. “Is that what I’ve been doing? Because it feels more like I’ve been a bullet magnet lately.”

“You can do both.”

“I’d really prefer it if you stopped being a bullet magnet, though,” Wolfwood added.

“Maybe one day.” Vash’s gaze grew thoughtful, wistful. “Maybe.”

It would take a lot for that to happen, Wolfwood knew. Humanity would have to change for the better. Knives would have to cut his bullshit. No Man’s Land would have to become a more peaceful place in general. He wasn’t sure what the chances were of one of those things happening, much less all three, but he didn’t have it in him to point that out. He was sure Vash already knew how daunting it was. The only question was whether or not he thought he could make some of those changes anyway, and how far he’d go to try.

“I’m really grateful for you two,” Vash said. His hands rested over theirs. Wolfwood had his flesh and blood hand; his touch was cool even with the glove in the way. “I just wanted to tell you, I…”

Vash straightened up suddenly and looked back into town. Wolfwood braced himself for trouble as he looked over his own shoulder. What he heard was almost worse.

“Vash! Where are you?!”

It was Meryl. Not the Meryl sitting next to him, but the Meryl of the past.

“Oh…” Meryl breathed.

“Shit,” Wolfwood hissed.

“Hide!” Vash added. The three of them scrambled off the roof and behind the nearest truck parked nearby. Conveniently, that was where a portal had appeared. “Listen, no matter what happens…”

“Hey!” shouted Roberto from a lot closer. “You over here?!”

“Go!” Wolfwood tried to nudge Vash away. “Tell us next time – “

“I love you both,” Vash blurted. “I do. Thank you.”

And then he was gone, leaving Wolfwood feeling like he’d just been slapped.

It wasn’t just the words that had caught him off guard. After he’d verbally included both Vash and Meryl in his circle of family, hearing them felt almost inevitable. The way he didn’t feel was more shocking. He still felt shaken, a bit unworthy, a bit overwhelmed by what hearing those words from a guy like Vash meant, but…

He didn’t feel the same low, worthless feeling that he’d felt in the past whenever Vash accepted him in some way. Or, at least, he didn’t feel it as strongly anymore. It felt like he’d pulled back the bandages of his soul and found the wounds there more healed than he’d thought.

Wolfwood still had a lot of work to do to be worthy of those words. But in that moment, his biggest regret was that he hadn’t had the chance to say it back.

Tell him in the future. Do whatever it takes to make that happen.

When Wolfwood glanced at Meryl, she was peering out from behind the truck. Wolfwood leaned in close to avoid being overheard and whispered, “We’ve got to go.”

“Give me a second,” Meryl whispered back. “I want to see.”

Despite himself, so did Wolfwood.

He only took a quick look, but he took in a lot as he did. Vash was rubbing the back of his head, trying to shake off Meryl’s questions with his placating goofball laugh. Meryl stood in front of him with her hands on her hips and concern in her eyes. Her bob was much tidier, her jacket still mostly white. Roberto was a scruffy shadow of the MP officer they’d met in July, already opening up his flask despite it barely being time for breakfast. And Wolfwood…

His past self stood in the shadows a good distance away, Punisher heavy on his shoulders, wearing a suit that was somehow too big and too small at the same time. His expression was blank, but Wolfwood could remember what lay underneath. Frustration, guilt, an increasingly queasy sense that this job was going to keep going sideways in ways he hadn’t expected.

You have no idea.

Wolfwood was surprised again by his own feelings. He didn’t feel disgust; he felt pity. Pity and…embarrassment. Past him didn’t know shit, and he was going to learn the hard way.

At least he’d be better off for it.

Wolfwood gently squeezed Meryl’s shoulder. She nodded, and they turned to the portal without a word. They’d done what they could. For now, it was in Vash’s hands.

Hopefully, that would be enough.

[fandomsnstuff]

We're two weeks in team! Have some simple blupjeans chatter

Day 14: celebrity au

Barry's just trying to buy a new tv for their bedroom, but Lup wants to talk about his celebrity status.

Read it on AO3

Barry considers the different tvs in front of him. “The 45 should be enough for where we're putting it. What do you think, babe?” He looks at Lup, but she's looking off in some other direction. “Lup?” 

She turns to him. “Hm?” 

“The tv?” 

“Oh, yeah, whatever you want is fine.” She looks away again. 

“Alright, uh,” he turns back to the sales associate helping them, “we'll go with the 45 inch one then.” 

“Great! Just wait right here and I'll go grah the box from the back.” 

They walk away, and Barry says to Lup, “what has you so distracted.” 

She glances at him and grins. She links her arm through his and points to a tv nearby, “look.” 

It's playing an episode of a cheesy mafia-themed soap opera. The same mafia-themed soap opera Barry was cast in 30 years ago to play the mob boss's fifteen year old son. The scene playing at the moment is from a recent season, showing Barry all done up in a suit, surveying some sort of shipment. 

He rolls his eyes. “You're ridiculous.” 

She laughs. “You're probably the only mainstream celebrity who comes to Best Buy for his tvs.” 

“There's no way I'm mainstream. I'm like a T-list celebrity at best."

“Oh, come on. You're on Netflix!” 

“Have you seen some of the shit on there? It's like finding an old can of beans from 1962 at the back of your grandma's cupboard sometimes. Plus,” he gestures vaguely at the tv, “the show's been running for over 30 years now, some streaming service was bound to pick it up eventually. It's not an indication of my celebrity status.” 

Lup tuts. “You're selling yourself short, Bluejeans. You've gotta be at least E-list. The kids are getting into older shows nowadays.”

“I never get recognized in public.” 

“Bullshit. There was that one time-” 

“On the rare occasion that I do, they're almost always over the age of 60.” He gives Lup a look as he cuts her off, knowing she was going to mention that time they were on a road trip and a table of older women recognized him in a diner. She purses her lips, thinking. “You get recognized more than I do,” he says. “You're more of a celebrity than I am.” 

“There's no way a YouTube channel makes me more famous than you, who's been a staple of daytime television since you were fifteen.” 

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head to indicate behind her, “six o'clock.” 

“Excuse me?” Right on cue, a 20-something customer comes up to them. “I'm so sorry, but are you Lup Taaco?” 

Barry takes a picture for them, and Lup talks to them for a few quick minutes until the sales associate comes back with their tv. The fan thanks her and scurries away. Barry takes the flat cart from the associate and starts driving it to the cash registers. “Told you,” he says.

“Shut up.” She crosses her arms. “I refuse to accept this slander to your popularity.” 

“Lup, I'm a pudgy white guy in his 40s wearing jeans and a t-shirt. I'm practically set decoration when I'm in public. Now, if I walked around in a suit and waved a gun around going,” he makes a finger gun and does a silly impression of his tv self, “give me my fuckin’ money or I'll kill ya! Then I might get a little more attention.” 

Lup considers this. “I don't think people would appreciate that.” 

“No, I don't think they would. Unfortunately tv is pretend and I don't actually run the seedy underbelly of a major city.” 

They get to the register, and Lup digs into her purse for her wallet. “Well at least we don't have to worry about the paps following us around.” 

“And we can go to Best Buy for tvs.” 

[sugolara]

𝙊𝙛 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪

ft. Tomura Shigaraki x fem! reader

previous || series m.list || next

Walking with a smile, F/n rounded a corner where she saw Shigaraki waiting for her. She had to sneak away from her house as her parents wouldn't allow her to leave late at night. Especially since she's supposed to be packing for their move.

"About damn time. I was going to leave if you hadn't shown up." Shigaraki said as he leaned onto the brick wall.

F/n grinned, "I was a minute late."

"You're still late." Shigaraki began to walk, taking the lead with F/n having to catch up, "What's the plan?"

"I say we go rob a store. I'm hungry, bored and in need of some adrenaline. Or you got something else in mind?" F/n said.

Shigarski shrugged and pointed ahead to a small convenience store, "How about that one?"

"Perfect." The two headed for the store and when they reached the front F/n glanced at Shigaraki, "Alright, you know what you're doing? One mistake and we'll both end up in a cell."

Shigaraki rolled his eyes, "You sound like we're going to commit a murder."

"I'm just saying. I don't want to spend the rest of my life in prison." F/n said as she raised her hands in a surrendering way.

"Okay, alright." Once again, Shigaraki rolled his eyes and headed into the store first. As he lingered near the drinks F/n headed to the front where she picked a few random products and then headed to pay.

As she slowly put the things down the counter and eyed the employee as he began to scan it. She was a bit imitated by him as he was at least a few inches taller than her and the guy seemed like he was on death row.

She noticed her hands began to get sweaty as well as her forehead. If things were to go wrong, she wouldn't be able to take the guy but maybe Shigaraki could with his quirk.

She then noticed he wore a watch, ring, and a few gold chains. She pointed at them, "Those 24 carats? They real?"

The employee stared at her for a moment before nodding, "Yeah."

The girl chuckled and eyed the TV that showed the store. She mentally cursed as she had forgotten about the cameras nervously chuckled, "Really? Cause you know my dad had a set just like that and he got them from these shady looking group of people–"

"You calling me shady?" The man harshly responded.

"No! No, no, no." F/n waved her arms feeling panic coursing through her, "I'm just saying that those could be fake–"

"The hell are you trying to say little girl!?" The man leaned closer to her.

F/n refrained from wiping her cheeks where spit landed. She then nervously eyed the camera seeing Shigaraki opening the liquor freezer. The employee raised his eyebrows as he also eyed the camera and saw Shigaraki stuffing a can in his hoodie.

The man recoiled and gasp as he pulled a gun from underneath the counter, "You fucking theives!"

F/n back away with wide eyes and instantly crouched as the employee pulled the trigger hitting a bag of chips. F/n instantly got up, "Fuck!"

She hurriedly got up on her feet as the man aimed at her once again. With the help of Shigaraki, he pulled her away and headed out the store. She glanced back where she saw a candy bar on the floor and with her quirk she pulled the candy bar towards her.

They both ran out the store with the employee still shooting at them. While F/n shielded her head, Shigaraki laughed as a twelve pack of beer rattled in his hands. They turned a corner where they lost sight of the store and employee.

Shigaraki leaned onto a wall catching his breath while F/n leaned on her knees. The male let out a satisfied sigh and cracked open a beer. He handed one to F/n but she held up a finger, "G-give me a moment."

Shigaraki raised a brow at the girl but recoiled back as the girl threw up, "...Ew."

Wiping her mouth, F/n grabbed the beer and washed her mouth, "I hate running."

The male in front motioned for her to follow and she did so. Eventually the two sat in a lonely park. They sat on the playground staring up at the stars while drinking their beer and eating the snack that F/n had managed to get.

"I'm a villain." Shigaraki uttered. He didn't know why he had said that but from some reason his heart began to beat faster than its normal pace. He didn't want to stare at the girl next to him and the thought of seeing her expression made him feel uneasy.

Would she be okay with it?

"...That's cool." F/n sniffed and chugged her beer, "I'm a civilian."

Shigaraki hesitantly eyed her, "...You're okay with that?"

"WIth you being a villain?" F/n said as she looked at a nodding Shigaraki. She then shrugged, "I honestly don't give a fuck about what you are. If I had a flashy quirk like yours I'd to be a villain. Does your quirk like...disintegrate anything you touch? I noticed you always keep your pinky up."

Shigaraki stayed silent for a moment which made the girl uneasy. He then nodded with a content look, "Decay. What's your quirk?"

"Uh..." F/n glanced at the empty can next to her feet and began to pull it towards her with her hands, "Basically, I can pull things towards me. It's like gravity. Though I'm not sure what it's called. My mom said that I got it from my aunt, she and I have the same quirk. It's not flashy or anything but it'll do."

"Your quirk is basically useless." Shigaraki said as he sipped his beer.

"Thanks." F/n said. "You go to school? I've never seen you around here."

"Nah." Shigaraki opened another can, "It's pointless. You?"

The girl shook her head, "No. My parents put me out."

"Why?"

"I'm moving in a few days." The girl said with a frown.

Shigaraki had noticed and soon his own frown made its way. He didn't say anything and instead gazed up to the star where a shooting star passed. They both sat in silence and listened to the wind howling. As a nice breeze passed by, they unknowingly inched closer to each other with their own thoughts plaguing their mind. 

[lu-sn]

"Can I get a history check?" Pete asks.

Chay hums, flipping through his notes. "What are you trying to remember?"

"Have I seen or heard of Vegas taking physical abuse from his father before? Rumors, maybe?"

Chay taps his chin for a long moment. "Roll for perception instead."

Everyone at the table groans. Pete slaps a hand over his eyes.

"Can't believe you're doing Pete dirty like that, Chay." Porsche claps a hand onto Pete's shoulder in sympathy.

"What's your record on perception rolls, again?" Macau says. He starts ticking off on his fingers. "Failed that check on Kinn, then that other check on Hia, then the one on Porsche, and then on Porsche, and then Porsche—"

"Leave me alone," Pete says, muffled into his hand.

"Least it's better than his deception throws," Porsche snickers. "Haven't seen you get anything above a five in weeks—"

"He's just a little clueless, aren't you, Pete," Vegas says, arms crossed, mirth clear on his face.

"Fine, you bastards," Pete mutters, grabbing his die.

"You know what, Phi," Chay interjects, right as Pete rolls, "I'll give you advantage on this one."

"Holy shit," Porsche says, leaning over Pete's dice box. "He's not gonna need it."

"Nat twenty," Pete breathes out.

"Dude!" Macau yells. "Absolutely sick—"

"Phi," Chay tries to speak over the uproar, "can you — Macau, shut up — Phi, can you tell the table about your own father?"

Pete leans back. "When I was little, my father put me in muay thai, and he used to, uh," he grimaces, "beat me up after matches, if I lost."

Chay nods. "You watch Gun punch Vegas, and you immediately recognize this as a mirror of what happened to you in your past. You can also tell that this isn't new, that Vegas is used to taking these kinds of beatings, and he's used to bearing them in silence. Vegas is scared of his father — and Gun does not give a shit about his son, outside of how Vegas can be useful to him."

The table is hushed.

"Well," Pete says eventually. "That's just... great."

"Is Pete's background common knowledge?" Vegas asks suddenly.

"Nope," Chay says.

"Well," Vegas makes a note, "I'll wager that knowledge becomes a lot more relevant very, very soon."

Chay smiles, impish. "We'll see."

(inspired by this post from @veliseraptor)