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sh1-n0bu · 10 months ago

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♡︎ 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 ♡︎

characters: AFAB!sub!jing yuan, dan heng, blade x gn!dom!reader

warnings: AFAB characters, overstimulation, headcannon+small drabble format, praise, degrading, cock/strap traditions, dacryphilia, usage of bullet vibrator, slight brat taming, nipple stimulation, fingering, oral, cervix fucking, begging, squirting, clit pinching, cock/strap warming, size kink, belly bulge, breeding, creampie, mating press, full nelson, just a personal headcannon of how i think they would act when overstimulated

notes: someone wrote “nobody writes ahegao quite like nobu does” in one of their repost tags and im fucking shitting tears😭😭

the giggler

jing yuan loves to be overstimulated. he loves the feeling of it, the adrenaline rush, the high, the feeling of finally cumming all over your fingers, tongue, strap whatever it may be and the feeling of you continuing to move, drawing out his orgasm while also driving him into an overstimulated mess

has the cutest giggles and laughs when he gets too much pleasure. he doesn’t even try to hide or won’t even try to hide it. why would he when you were making him feel so good over and over again? hell, he even wants other people to hear it, to remind them that you were his lover and only his. and how only he gets to feel the overwhelming amount of pleasure only you can bring to him and no one else

but, it comes with a catch. he needs a lot of foreplay and/or teasing and/or orgasm denial for him to finally cave in and shake his head before starting to blabber incoherent shit about how good your cock feels inside his gushing pussy, how he could feel your tip fucking his cervix, how he wanted you to fuck a baby inside him etc etc

and i mean a LOT of it

as a centuries old war hardened general, it’s safe to say that he had gotten used to some feelings and emotions. pleasure being one of them

so if you want to get him to break and to become absolutely dumb and drunk on lust and pleasure, you have to tease him a lots before getting into it. if not, he will somehow find a way to outsmart you and take the reigns. he’s a bit of a brat and a spoiled prince wrapped up into one after all

will tell you what to do and how to do it if you have failed in getting him needy in your foreplay. he will fist your hair and thrust his hips into your mouth, making you unable to breath for a moment or two with his clit right at your nose. will push you down and flip your positions so he could ride your face, all the while chuckling at your cute attempt to push him back down. a goddamn brat and he will show it to the fullest when you fail at your foreplay

did i mention he was a brat? well now i have. a fucking brat to the max and he isn’t ashamed of it. will definitely question your power in the bedroom, try to overpower you and he will. he literally swings a 7000kg glaive in one hand like its nothing and he will show it by throwing you around. gently and consensually of course, he wouldn’t want to hurt his beloved

but fully expect him to be cocky and devious. “can you say no to my pretty pussy?”, “so sleepy. oh sorry, i didn’t know your cock was inside me hehe”, “was that all?” you get the gist. will shamelessly yawn in the middle of fucking not because he is sleepy or tired, but simply because he is a brat. a goddamn brat

so, how can you get him to be needy and won’t make him go into his bratty side? simple. shove a long distance controlled vibrator inside his cunt and leave it there for the whole day for him to suffer at work. but if you’re going to do that, be sure to mute the ringtone for your phone for the day since he will call you, send you messages, pictures, videos every damn hour. the closer his hour for shift ending comes, the more frequent the buzzing of your phone will become because he will grow much more needier

when finally he’s back home and frantically pawing at your pants when barely through the doors, that’s when you know he had absolutely no intention of being a brat. how can he when his whole pants were slowly getting stained from his multiple orgasms?

when he’s gladly bending himself over, arching his back for you as he wiggles his hips, he will ask you to come inside. jing yuan is great with kids and such a huge family man, he will ask you over and over repeatedly to breed him. cum inside him, fill up his cute dripping cunt, put him in whatever position you want and make sure to breed his pretty cunt, you can finally raise your own family together!

remember the long distance controlled vibrator i mentioned? make sure to keep it on and buzzing inside his cunt at all times when he’s away at work, or else it won’t work. during meetings or report hearings, jing yuan had to leave to the bathroom a lot of times and it genuinely got his subordinates concerned for his health. the red face, the heavy breathing and sometimes, the jolts of his body or the bleeding bruised lips of his made the cloud knights worry and some even suggested for him to leave the seat of divine foresight early to look after his health. if only they knew just how their dearest general was pathetically biting on his hand to muffle his screams in the bathroom as he squirted all over himself

“[naaammeee], ‘m mmgh♡︎! aaaaangh haah mngck♡︎♡︎ i-i’m home!” jing yuan’s voice called out, weak mewls of pleasure slipping through as he collapsed onto the floor the moment the doors of your shared home was closed. desperately humping the floor, trying to push the vibrator deeper into his gushing pussy, your lover didn’t realize that you were leaning against the wall of the kitchen, watching him with a knowing smile. there was a wet patch growing in his usual red pants, growing more and more the further he humped the air in desperation. see? your tough brat was so easy to tame.

“you feeling okay, darling?” you call out, taking out the controlled from your pants pocket and messing with the switch. flipping it up, down, up to the highest level, before going to the lowest level. it was cute to see the ever so tough brat turn into a delirious mess from just a single small toy. all because he was being so stubborn about how you weren’t the boss of him. walking over to where he was kneeling on the floor, you reach your free hand out. tilting his head up, a thumb swiping away at the drool that was beginning to pool on his lower lip, you tilt your head to the side, asking the question again with a firm hold onto his chin.

“n-no…! no no no, not at aamgh♡︎♡︎ h-hhaaaggm not at all♡︎!” he shakes his head viciously, dragging out his words and tripping over them with moans and mewls falling in between. pathetically, he tugs on the hem of your pants, trying to get to his favorite treat, the one thing he’s been missing this whole day.

“n-need you… need you right now, need your—♡︎♡︎! need yo-our..! c-cock right now...♡︎!” jing yuan mutters between whimpers, finally, his shaky hands manage to pull down your pants and undergarments just enough to have your strap out. a needy whine falling as he places slobbering wet kisses on the tip, giving it a few licks as he flutters his lashes at you in an effort to manipulate you to give him what he was non-verbally asking.

knowing full well that he wouldn’t take no for an answer and that yanqing might come home soon, you drag him up to his feet — an action that was heavily protested against as jing yuan cries out after his favorite treat being taken away. once inside the comfort of your shared bedroom, by the time you have locked the door behind you, he was already naked. clothes messily strewn on the floor and on the bed, the many orgasm’s slick dripping down his puffy cunt to his ass and to the bedsheets eventually. you could see the light trembling of his pussy lips, an action caused by the vibrator fucking away inside him still.

turning the vibrator off, you take the toy out of his puffy cunt. jing yuan let out a drawn out mewl at the feeling, clenching around nothing as he tries to replace the empty feeling for something, anything. but seeing you starting to strip, he knew what he wanted. and he knew how he wanted it.

spreading his legs open further, his hand comes down, flicking at his enlarged clit with a jolt before spreading open his labia for you to take in how he was already so needily wet and dripping for you. a drunk giggle escaping him when the tip of your cock is right against his folds, wiggling his hips enticingly.

“[nnaameeee]~ you gotta fuck a baby in me this time, owhkayyy?♡︎♡︎ hehehe♥︎”

the crybaby

the cutest out of all three of them, in my personal opinion

he just gets overstimmed so easily and quickly, it’s adorable in the way that he brokenly begs for a moment of respite. legs shaking, smaller body jolting violently at the smallest of touches like your hand ghosting over his hardened nipples. don’t even get me started on the way he cutely squeals out loud when you pinch his clit augh

maybe it’s due to his nature as a vidyadhara and not a full human but every little touch is received with so much sensitivity and sensuality, it gets so easy to turn him into a blabbering mess in record time. push his smaller body against the wall and finger his gushing pussy while rolling your thumb over his clit. in no time, his legs are shaking as he bites your hand, his orgasm washing over him quickly and violently. but don’t just stop there, keep flicking at his clit, pinch it, tug on it, push a hand on the small bulge on his belly and he’ll be left sobbing by the second or third round

he’s noticeably smaller than the other two and it carries out into his size kink so well. he just wants to be pushed around and put into impossible, near painful positions and man-handled until he’s left a blabbering idiot

make him cockwarm you while asking him to read you a story or a book under the guise that you had a nightmare and can’t fall asleep without his soothing voice and soft cunny wrapped around your cock. at first he’ll huff and puff, saying that you’re a liar and just wants to fuck him. four or five pages in and his voice is already strained, whines coming out as hiccups and sniffles follow soon after

but just because he’s a crybaby doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. he knows how much you love his pretty steel grey eyes unfocused and hazy, brimming with tears and he will use that to his advantage. will make sure to play with his nipples or push down on the bulge in his tummy when cockwarming you so he could get teary eyed quicker. the moment he sniffles and grinds himself down on you, he knows you’re a goner and would give him what he wants

he may be a crybaby, but he’s also a goddamn minx so beware of that

tugs on your sleeve so cutely, looking at you with a flushed face and stuttered words to ask you if you wanna spend time with him in his room. today’s trailblazing expedition was too long and tiring after all, “surely you would enjoy some cuddles…?” or “i just wanted to help you patch up your wounds. i was just worried”

yeah sure, dan heng. just say that you wanna get fucked until you’re squealing out like a slut with fat tears running down your cute red cheeks. thank the aeons the express’ walls are thick and soundproof. if not, who knows the amount of noise complaint you would have gotten from everyone

has slight oral fixation. slightly. but that’s only because he wants to see you crumble and give into his non-verbal demands and just ruin him. he’s a bit too shy to ask directly after all

long serpentine tongue wrapping around your strap, pulling it into his mouth. will gag and choke so loudly with the tip of the fat dildo pushed right down his throat, hitting his uvula and choking his throat. he can complain about sore throats and pained jaws all he wants but you both know that he loves to suckle on your strap with tears filling his eyes

the most messiest cock sucker and that’s saying something bc blade is the one who has the biggest oral fixation out of the three of them. he’ll place wet kisses to the weeping tip of your cock, running the slitted snake like tongue over the weeping slit of your cock teasingly before wrapping it around your dick. loves the scent and the taste of your pre, basically addicted to it as he opens his mouth wider, slipping your cock inside the warm cavern of his mouth inch by inch

but be aware that he will also try to take advantage of this position. he will try to bat his lashes at you so he can continue suckling on your strap like he would be sucking on a lolipop, all under the guise to ‘make you happy’. when in reality, he would try to make you cum over and over to try and get you overstimulated. when in such position, just fist his hair and fuck his throat. gets him crying in no time like the crybaby he is

“… bamboo whispers in the w-wind, a secret pa-aaangh! aah aaah hmgk♡︎ a s-secret pa-act... ♡︎!“ the soothing voice of your lover drawls out into a weak sniffle, hands gripping the book filled with love poetry from his home planet tightly. so tight, you feared that he might just tear the book apart with his claws. you had crawled into his bed yet again to torment him today, the dildo hitting all the sensitive spots in his gushing cunt, dan heng couldn’t help but weakly whine when your hands around his waist tightens to not let him move.

“go on. i’m listening” you coo out, forcing him to stay still on your lap while his voice continue to drawl out. sniffles and broken pleads replacing his ever so stoic mask, a voice that is usually so cold and distant, always scolding other turning into one of mindless blabber about how badly he wanted your strap to fuck his pussy. you couldn’t help but laugh.

“is that what it says on the pages? i may be still learning the strokes but the next line seems to be the stroke for two” you point at the kanji on the book he was holding in his shaking hands, the strokes of the language seeming familiar to you. it was an easy kanji to read after all. yet not to your boyfriend it seems.

“please! p-please please move! i beg you, [n-naamee]♡︎ you gotta fuck meeh♡︎ you gotta fuck me you gotta fuck me— you have to fuck meeegck—♡︎♡︎!!” dan heng squeals, shaking thighs bucking down onto your dick, trying to gain some friction. it was enough, he had read you hundreds of love poetries from his home planet. he had been taking your pronged torture for long enough, please just fuck his cunt already!

“so impatient” you huff, putting the book away with a book marker tucked between the pages before hooking your hands under his knees. pulling him up and over until dan heng was left wailing at the sudden change in position. hooking your arms under his knees, his legs are left dangling in the air with nothing to support himself but for his hands to cling to your biceps. even then, he couldn’t hold for long as he jolts about in your arms like a hopping bunny, painting your dildo in his cum when the tip kissed his cervix.

“guuchk♥︎!! d-deep! aah ah naahmg haah t-too deep♡︎♡︎ [n-name] you’re f-fucckk fuck fuck—♡︎♥︎ fucking my cerviinxx my ceerrvv—♡︎♡︎ mngh unngya♥︎!” punched out sobs comes from his pretty lips, drawling out into whiny cries when you move him up and down. you could see the bulge in his tummy appear and disappear every little moment. every jolt, every gasp, every little whiny cry making the bulge in his tummy to get more detailed. he was so adorably small.

“‘m sorry, darling. i’m sorry, didn’t mean it. didn’t mean to fuck you this deep” you coo out apologies, lifting him just a bit so your strap won’t sink so deep to the point it would kiss his cervix. as much as you loved your crybaby gasping and writhing, you didn’t want the reason for such reaction to be pain.

claws scratching at every inch of skin he could touch, jaw slack open in a silent scream, you could barely make out his shrill yell of what appears to be your name when dan heng squirts over your cock after just a few thrusts. you could see the overflowing amount of cum just dripping down your cock, trailing down to your legs and staining the mattress. with a click of your tongue, you pinched his clit, making the shorter man sniffle with a squeal.

“‘m soowryyy… sorry sorry—♡︎ d-didn’t mean to be bad... s-soowwh uunhg hyaagk ungc gugcck—♥︎♥︎!!”

the hissy bitch

alright, so i know i’m going into territory that has been charted way too many times before by blade lovers standard but he def has piercings. on his nipples, tongue and on his clit. probably got the first three by losing a drunk bet or something or maybe he just wanted it but the last one, the clit one, is definitely his latest piercing. one that he got after his relationship with you began and he had made the sudden rash decision to get one so he could see your reaction and to feel you just messing with it while fucking him

there is a REASON why he always keeps his chest bandaged up. there is a goddamn reason and that reason is his nipple piercings and the fact that his chest is generally very sensitive im being delusional

so what does that bring and why have i specified it? simple. titty fucking. nipple stimulation. seeing his pretty big, round chest jiggle every time your cock sinks back into his dripping cunt. pinch it, roll it, tug on them, suckle on them, do anything to him with his nipple piercing and he’s scratching at your back, mauling it like an animal

the reason i see him as a hissy bitch is because he likes to throw small temper tantrums when he gets too overstimulated. he’s crying, begging, hitting your shoulders, back, scratching at them and leaving deep red scratch marks, perhaps even breaking the skin sometimes. how come blade get overstimulated quickly? because he is very touch deprived. he’s been alone and immortal for too damn long and his ass is fucking touch starved. i just know it in my bones

genuinely, he is indeed very touch starved. since his rebirth as an immortal, he had felt nothing but pain, anguish and suffering and therefore, has basically gotten immune to touches. especially the violent and bloody ones. but gentle, tender, affectionate ones? find him jumping away from your soft hands like a frightened cat, it’s goddamn heartbreaking. so when he finally gets his cunt fucked, blade would be overstimmed too fast due to receiving a sudden abundance of affection and touches

will shake his head ‘no’ when asked if you would wanna stop due to his tears. you were just concerned but blade didn’t wanted this onslaught of pleasure to stop. desperately rides your fingers, mouth, strap — anything. loves the feeling of being on top of you, gives him the slight feeling of being in control. until it all gets thrown out the window when you force him to stop bouncing, hands gripping his hips tightly as a warning. will whine and try to grind down, trying to chase that high again but will only end up with a pout and hissy tears falling down his cheeks

another one who loves the feeling of being stuffed full and overstimulated. it’s almost like he gets high from the feeling. loves having his pussy fucked in any way you please until he can’t stay on his hands or feet without shaking. it’s just so cute to see him shaking like a fawn when fucking him doggy style

prepare to have yourself used as a chew toy as well as a scratcher. blade’s almost like a cat, hissy and whiny but also so greedy and preferring certain things in certain manner. will bite at your shoulders, hands, fingers to muffle himself but also to try and get his shit together. will scratch at your back, thighs, wherever he could reach. such a spoiled brat

when eating him out, be sure to give an extra care and love to his clit piercing. constantly flicking it with your tongue would usually work though, gets his legs all shaky and jolty soon enough. maybe pair it with flicking his pierced nubs and bladie will be squirting into your mouth with an embarrassing high pitched shriek. make sure to clean up all of his mess before diving right back into his gushing cunny. he may not say it but he will expect you to go back to eating him out like he’s your last meal

has the BIGGEST oral fixation out of the three of them. like, down bad, delicious, scrumptious, sloppy oral fixation. and he is happy to give it 90% of the times due to his tongue piercing. knows how good it makes you feel and how you like to see his pretty face between your legs, sucking on the large dildo like his life depends on it. not a single thought or a single moment of choking from him, it’s almost like he doesn’t have a gag reflex

you just came back from mission, from being away from him even for a single day? unacceptable. let him bend over for you, you can get your stress out by fucking his already dripping wet pussy. too tired? that’s fine. take of your pants and get comfortable cuz’ he can stay between your legs for days

not a single minute of respite has greeted you ever since you came back from your latest mission, stepping foot into your shared home with your stoic lover. perhaps the single gentle kiss to your cheek before he started to leave slobbering wet kisses on your lips was the only warning and moment of rest you have gotten. not even shoes off yet and blade was already unbuckling your belt, giving you the puppy eyes and grumbling about how you’ve been away for too damn long. whining about how much he missed you and needed your strap to fuck him dumb. how his pretty pussy had missed you so much.

“n-nnghyaa♡︎♡︎ m-missed you... missed you s’ much, [name]! f-fuck me fuck me fuck me, fuck your favorite cunt gyyuck—♥︎♥︎ a-aaanh! haah ah ah mmngk—♡︎♥︎!!” unusually docile red eyes roll to the back of his skull, jaw going slack wide open as you push his legs up, feeling your strap hit him deeper than he thought was possible. he could feel your weight push him down, keeping it still on the bed and to stop him from wiggling his hips entirely. this new position caused his cat like pupils to widen, turning into heart shapes as you chuckle at the dazed look in his eyes.

“such a needy brat” you coo out in a condescending manner, pushing his legs up in the air with your hands hooked under his knees to keep him in place. pulling out until halfway out, you sink back into blade’s dripping cunt. a squeal tearing from his throat alongside the filthy wet squelch of his cunt tightening around your dildo. it was so easy to get him dumb.

“t-too nngh much! too muchtoomuchtoomuch♡︎! fucking m-my womb—♡︎ [n-name], y-youuwrr crush— crushing my wombgg aangh ah ah! gyyuck eengh aaangh nyaagh♥︎♥︎!!” the familiar feeling of his nails scratching at your arms takes place, tearing at the skin, clawing at any part of your body he can come in contact with. a desperate attempt to ground his already long gone mind, too deep into the throes of pleasure that he didn’t even realize his shaking hands were weakly pulling your hips to fuck deeper into his warm walls.

“don’t be so dramatic, bladie. i won’t be able to crush your womb in this position” you coo out mockingly, wiping away the fat globs of tears that continue to pour of his eyes. red and yellow eyes rolled to the back of his skull, wide open mouth letting out the most salacious squeals and shrieks of your name and how you were fucking his womb falling out. legs weakly dangling in the air, jolting and bristling at every deep thrust you fuck into his velvety walls. the lewd wet squelching noises were alongside your grunts and blade’s whiny sobs were the only noise in the room. you would probably get noise complaints the next morning due to blade’s loudmouthed blabbering self.

letting go of one of his legs, you shove your fingers into his mouth. almost as if it was an instinct, blade’s tongue wet your fingers. suckling on the two digits as it his life depended on it with the most cutest heart shaped pupils staring at you. once you deemed them wet enough, you take your fingers out of his mouth. an action that blade showed his hatred towards as his pierced tongue comes past his lips, trying to chase after your fingers.

“gghcck—♡︎♥︎♥︎♥︎!!” a sharp wail taking place as blade arches his back, his whole body shaking, soft big tits jiggling when you pinched at his pierced clit. rolling, tugging, flicking at the hardened nub as blade sobs about cumming before drenching your cock with his squirting. you had thought of him to be satisfied with it, but turns out you have underestimated your lover’s neediness when his strong scarred thighs comes to wrap around your waist, legs locked behind your back when you tried to pull out.

sigh… it’s times like this that makes you glad for your amount of stamina.

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blkkizzat · 6 months ago

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YAKUZA!TOJI X MILF!READER —aka toji on some joe goldberg bullshit

🎞️ 𝐒𝟏 𝐄𝟐:

⟢ rating: mdni 18+ stalking, yuji is yakuza!sukuna x reader child, toji is still delulu af, size-kink, milf kink, breeding kink, voyeurism, dilf!toji, dissociative sexual fantasies, sukuna is an asshole, masturbation, killing fantasies, obsessive tendencies, heavy manipulation, brooding, yandere fluff, cute kid megumi.

⟢ episode run time: 𝟖.𝟕𝐤 ⟢ episode list: m.list ⟢ subscriber access: please comment on m.list to be tagged, rather than individual episodes as its easier for me to track. ⟢ director's note: e2 is here!! sorry for the initial issues! i hope you guys enjoy as we go deeper into toji's delulu, it's so much fun writing from his perspective. i feel like with each epi he only gets worse, hfsvsdjkfhvbsdj. he's still daddy tho.

The sky has since fallen completely dark, but the city lights of Tokyo still twinkle brightly in the distance, drowning out any stars. The light pollution still appears beautiful though, as a comforting beacon of civilization in the surrounding darkness.

The atmosphere, which had previously been so violently vibrant, has now quieted to a muted calm as the world slows down, whipping cool night air around Toji’s tense frame on his balcony.

However, it does fuck all to soothe the seared edges of his temper.

Nor does the serene scene do anything to calm the heated exchange still taking place inside your condo.

Your domestic dispute with Sukuna fiercely rages on.

Toji savors the last few puffs of his cigarette before discarding it and quickly lighting another. Chain smoking is his last salvation, lest the persistent urge to protect you completely overtakes him and causes him to act rashly.

The current state of the organization had suspicions at an all-time high. Toji couldn’t afford that considering who he was dealing with and what all could come in between the two of you should he err from the plan.

Closing his eyes, Toji manages to regain control by doing the one thing that never failed to pacify him—thinking of you, of course.

Both the sweet poison and the bitter antidote to Toji, you do nothing but constantly plague his psyche.

But perhaps it’s that he knows you need him as much as he realizes he needs you.

Over the course of time he had watched you, it didn’t take long for Toji to conclude that you only chose to remain with Sukuna for the security he provided. Preservation and the obligations of motherhood were the only logical motivations you could have.

It was glaringly apparent that Sukuna didn’t love you.

Even a blind man could see the truth of it.

Sukuna only visited you on rare occasions, when yakuza business took him beyond the central city limits, as Toji’s own surveillance and connections had revealed.

And whenever he did show up, it usually led to arguments between the two of you. If you had indeed loved Sukuna at one point you weren’t foolish enough to hold onto any of those illusions now.

Moreover, the subject of illusions—Toji had been privy to having many fantasies of you.

Weathering away at the stone around his heart he strived his whole life to build—only to then rebuild once again after his late wife—addictingly sweet visions of you so swiftly demolish the walls he set in place.

Toji allowed himself many hopeful images of what life could be like with you.

A life of ease.

That said, it would never be too easy.

Toji is still a yakuza himself and he knew the organization would never let him walk away entirely.

Nevertheless, his role was somewhat unique—an executive assassin was almost unheard of. Toji took on as many kills as he did as a way to numb and distract himself, not because it was required of him or he couldn’t pass it off to another. And ever since he’d laid eyes on you he had no desire to busy himself with anything other than you.

Toji takes pleasure in knowing he wouldn’t ever have to be away from you for long too.

As it happens, he already owns a spacious five-bedroom home just outside Tokyo in Chiba—the previous home he had hoped to share with his late wife. Toji had planned to surprise her with it once she left the hospital.

Yet instead of leaving the hospital with Megumi’s mother by his side, Toji had walked out alone—only an urn in hand. Numbed to the world, he tightly gripped the sleek black urn that mockingly held her remains—along with his shattered hopes.

And as a result, no one had even crossed the threshold since the purchase was made.

But that would change though now that there would be the four of you to breathe life into the home.

Who else could give you that kind of life but Toji?

Certainly not Sukuna.

Toji would give you everything if you let him—but you weren’t an easy conquest, something he learned quickly as you prove it to him time and time again.

Toji recalls your second encounter with sharpened clarity.

⟡

It had taken Toji only two weeks to meticulously study your habits. The encounter had been carefully orchestrated, but despite his planning, the day hadn’t quite unfolded as Toji anticipated to say the least.

Parked down on the block of your typical walking path, Toji sat in his blacked-out Mercedes, keeping an eye on his rear-view mirror monitoring your approach. The mirror also showed Megumi, who was peacefully dozing in the backseat.

Heh, yeah he’d made damn sure to have the kid with him back then too.

Hardly older than 18 months and already a lady-killer, Megumi never failed to melt the heart of any woman who laid eyes upon his abundant chubby-cheeked cuteness.

Not like Toji had ever really needed to expend the effort before now. He knew just a mere look from him could get panties leaking, but you’d be harder to conquer than that.

Toji would enjoy taking his time, which if he thought about previously he would have deemed odd—he’d never been one to hold himself back or take his time with a woman.

Not anymore.

Not since her at least.

But the agony that had accompanied thoughts of his late wife had dulled considerably since he’d first started observing you.

A bonus of that being it no longer hurts as much to see Megumi—not when he would picture you rocking him in your arms.

Toji had even gone so far as to believe that she would have approved, that she would have liked you. He imagined she would have gladly chosen you to take care of both Megumi and him if she’d known you.

A familiar form appears in the rear-view mirror and Toji knows it’s game time.

Here you were, a reward for his diligence in tracking your habits, right on schedule.

Your features sparkled in the summer sun as you pushed Yuji along in his stroller, humming a tune while the child giggled along clapping.

The kid’s bubbly deposition had to come from you, Toji decided—surely none of it could have come from, nor been influenced by, Sukuna.

Toji wondered if you could even make a somber child like Megumi smile.

Biding in-wait until you passed, Toji snatched up Megumi and kept far enough distance so as to not alarm you of his presence.

His original plan had been to exit the car as you passed by and walk into the store together. But that all changed when Toji got the first glimpse of what you were wearing.

Toji would avoid being noticed by you, but your attire made it near impossible for him not to notice you.

The dress you wore was barely made modest enough to wear in public by the cardigan you draped over it. A less curvaceous woman could have likely pulled it off without turning a head.

However on your body, the way the thin loose fabric hung off your shape as it clung onto the moist areas of perspiration like a second skin—was fucking obscene.

Especially as despite your continued efforts, the crack of your ass kept gobbling up your sundress no matter how many times you subtly tried to yank it free.

Toji bet your ass could swallow his cock up just as well.

Damn.

Toji wished the walkup to the store was longer.

He’d never been one for prayer, but he would have started if whatever God deemed it fit right at that very moment to send an unanticipated gust of wind.

Your lack of panty line had his mind racing as to whether you wore a thong or were just slutty enough to be outside bare-assed in a short sundress mid-afternoon.

The green of your sundress matched his eyes too and Toji took it as another sign from the universe, he was on the right path by pursuing you like this.

You were doing this intentionally just to tease him, weren't you?

Hoping he’d see you like this and to tempt him into taking a peek, right?

Entering the grocery store, Megumi seated in-cart, Toji continued tailing you as you shopped.

True to the homemaker he previously confirmed you to be, you picked up mostly fresh produce, prime cuts of meat from the butcher, and some pantry baking items.

You were capable of more than just the frozen dinners he’d be more accustomed to if not for his Nanny’s cooking. She was a decent enough cook too—but she wasn’t you.

Nothing she cooked smelled a fraction as good as the mostly foreign, but appetizing, smells that wafted from under your door to fill the hall with warm spices.

The food you would make him, once Toji gets you settled in your new home, would definitely be much better.

You were truly perfect, well nearly so.

After tailing you down a few aisles, Toji suspects the one minor flaw you may have is you appeared to be the absentminded type.

How else could you be disregarding his overbearing presence as he continuously had put himself in your line of vision? Restlessness overtook Toji as he waited for you to look up and catch his eye, giving him a casual opening.

You had been too consumed with your phone to notice his attempts— which if he would guess, wouldn’t be successful anytime soon.

Grumbling, Toji had to take matters into his own hands if he wanted to shop with you at all.

Easy enough too, you were already so carelessly distracted.

Momentarily taking his eyes off you, Toji calculated how long it would take you to reach the end of the aisle. So as you moved from one aisle to the next, he casually nudged his cart into your path, creating a T-bone collision that made it look like you were at fault for leaving the aisle.

The bang was jolting enough to finally draw your attention.

“OH MY GOD! I WASN’T WATCHING WHERE I WAS GOING! I’M SO SORRY– I-I …Fushiguro?!”

Heh, took ya long enough to notice.

“Well, hey doll. Long time no see, ma.”

A flagrant lie.

Toji had seen you nearly everyday—you just hadn’t seen him.

He could tell you were flustered and embarrassed as multiple heads in the store had turned towards the two of you from the rattling collision.

You couldn’t apologize enough to Toji who was on cloud nine from your attention focused on him.

And as Toji had predicted, your attention was soon stolen by the black spikey haired baby boy seated in his cart.

“Oh wow Fushiguro!!—”

“—Toji, ma.”

A smirk bloomed across his features as you rolled your eyes at him, continuing your affections towards Megumi.

“—I remember you said you had a son but I didn’t know you had a little mini-me, he’s so adorable!”

Toji didn’t fail to notice the double—no triple, take you had given between himself and Megumi.

He also couldn't help but see how your big ass tiddies looked—like they wanted to bounce right outta that sundress and into his mouth—as you bent down to get a closer look at Megumi.

No bra too?

Oh, you’d surely be the death of him.

But Toji's cock wasn’t the only part of him swelling, his heart rate sped like crazy just from watching you fuss over Megumi so apologetically—much like a loving mom soothing her own child at the sight of him sniffling back tears.

For a moment, Yuji’s giggling drew Toji’s attention as the boisterous kid seemed to think it was some sort of ride. Needing no comfort at all, Yuji merrily squealed with laughter at the impact, continuing to stuff rice puff snacks into his little face.

The distraction kept Toji from warning you not to pick up Megumi and before he Toji knew what was happening— you scooped Megumi up. Settling Megumi into your arms, Toji noted you cradled him with the same joy radiating from you as you did Yuji—and much to Toji’s shock—Megumi let you.

It went without saying that Megumi wasn't the friendliest kid.

Toji suspected he had inherited that from him, along with his trademark scowl. The little terror was known to pitch a screaming fit if someone other than Toji or his nanny picked him up.

However, in your hold, Megumi appeared calm—angel-like even—as far as Toji was concerned.

More curious than upset, Megumi's tears dried at the corners of his eyes as he reached out to gently bop your nose with his tiny fist.

“Aye! Manners, kiddo.”

Toji chides Megumi, but inside he is amazed by the interaction.

Returning the gesture, you softly boop Megumi's nose with the pad of your finger, causing him to grab it in defiance, as you offered him softly whispered apologies for upsetting him.

This served to confirm in Toji’s mind the place you belonged in his life.

He couldn’t be wrong about you.

You were perfect.

Everything was aligning better than he could have hoped for.

“No harm done ma, Megumi can take a lick. Just like his daddy.”

You shook your head at Toji and gently rubbed soothing circles on Megumi’s back, cooing at him.

“Oh? So you’re growing up strong like your daddy, huh, Megumi?”

Megumi tilted his head slightly, his thumb resting gently in his mouth.

“Just don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re smooth like he does.”

You shot Toji a teasing smirk, immediately resulting in a half chub pressed against his suit pants.

Now you were… teasing him?

Oh, you had no fucking idea just how smooth Toji could be when he wanted. And Toji planned to put 3 more kids inside of you soon too, just as smoothly.

Those facts withstanding, Toji could tell his son hadn’t quite made up his mind about you yet. Megumi just blinked at you, but the fact that he wasn't screaming his head off was good enough for Toji.

“Don’t let the blank stare fool you, ma, he likes you. Trust, ya would know if he didn’t. Just takes him a while to warm up to most folks.”

You gave Toji another playful smile.

“Hmm, and wonder who he got that from?”

Primal urges surged in his veins as Toji wanted nothing more than to grab you in his arms at that moment, although Toji settled for countering with a smirk of his own.

“We’re not that bad ma—once you get to know us.”

Toji flashed a toothy grin at you, amused by the upward pull at the corners of your lips as you tried and failed, not to be entertained by him.

You gently set Megumi back down in the cart, smoothing down his onesie and safely buckling him in before turning back to Toji.

“I’m sure Megumi is a perfectly sweet kid, who just needs to come into his own a bit.”

“Eh? And whadda ‘bout me, mamas?”

“The jury is still out on you—Fushiguro.”

“—Toji,” he corrected once again—and again you responded by rolling your pretty eyes under those long thick lashes of yours.

Oh, Toji had just the thing for that ass since you liked to roll your eyes back that much.

Toji imagined how deeply they’d be lodged into your head once he stuffed you full of his fat cock—all in one go—effectively pushing your guts up into your chest.

Yeah, he had it bad for you—real bad.

Unable to stop the many intrusive sexual thoughts that would spring in his mind just from being close enough to smell the scent of your sweet vanilla and jasmine perfume.

Yet Toji couldn’t let the chance pass to press his limits with you.

“So—How about ya give me y’er number so we can set up a playdate, eh? Since ya think Megumi’s such a sweet kid and all, mamas.”

Caught off guard, you looked away from Toji in contemplation, chewing on your lip.

“Hm... I-I don't think that’s such a good idea, Fushiguro.”

You shift your stance a bit, taking on a defensive posture.

Tch, fuck. You’d be harder to crack than Toji originally thought.

Plus you seemed to still have some loyalty to Sukuna, even if you held no love for him.

But that was all fine, Toji calculates—a good thing even.

That just meant you would be all the more loyal to him once he did have you.

Thinking on his feet, Toji subtly switches tactics, playing dumb as he lifts a brow.

“Toji, doll, but ya know what I do for work. Think I gots time to be babysitting brats? What, s’not a good idea for the nanny to bring Gumi by?”

“Oh! Of course the nanny! Yeah that’s fine, erm, that's… sorry. I thought—”

“—thought, what mamas? You tryna get a playdate with me too? ”

Toji couldn’t hold back his laughter as your eyes widened in shock.

Embarrassment washed over you like a tsunami, intensified by Toji's teasing. You hid half your face with one hand while the other gripped the grocery cart handle so tightly that Toji half-expected it to snap off.

“Kiddin’ ma—lighten up a ‘lil eh? Ya left y’erself wide open for that one, doll.”

Sighing in defeat, you finally conceded to his charms, exchanging numbers with him solely so his nanny could coordinate the playdates.

“I see you think you got jokes, Fushiguro.”

Toji relished the win as your smile returned.

“Ya know I do—and it's Toji, mama.”

With that shift, Toji was pleased to see you gradually lower your guard around him, the ice between you started to melt. You continued your shopping together, Toji casually picking up a few items, occasionally seeking your advice on what to feed Megumi.

Truth be told, he had no idea. The nanny always handled all the shopping.

Subtly taking the lead in the conversation, Toji casually provoked you into revealing more about yourself. Details he couldn’t piece together—like where you grew up, what your life was like before Japan and what brought you here—all which he cataloged meticulously in his mind.

Toji wanted to ask how a smart girl planning to be a doctor with a full-ride exchange program scholarship to Tokyo University got knocked up by a dumb fuckhead like Ryomen Sukuna—but the very last thing he wanted you to think about when you were with him was Sukuna.

However, each piece of information he learned of you convinced him more of how much he wanted you—

“Oh yeah, Fushiguro! Despite what you said, I actually managed to make a friend!”

–all to himself.

Tch, a fuckin’ friend?

Toji’s demeanor darkened, but you didn’t notice—too busy humming to yourself while checking apples for bruises in the produce section.

Not like this information came as a particular surprise to him, Toji's eyes narrowed as he could guess exactly who it was right away.

Toji had seen the tall raven-haired woman whose afternoon jogs in the park so-conveniently aligned with your walks with Yuji. You both would exchange pleasantries as she admired your son, and you her commitment to fitness, that you would say you never seemed to have the time for these days.

Yet your interactions from what he had seen never ventured much beyond that.

Although Toji would normally oblige you a few friends, having a friend here would complicate his plans.

The women of The Nursery up until now had done such a good job in isolating you all on their own without him having to lift a finger. Toji was relying on their catty caste system to ultimately drive you into his arms, as the only person you could rely on.

Toji couldn’t have one of them ruin that.

He needed to know more about this ‘friend’ of yours.

How well have you gotten to know each other?

And in what ways?

The fact that this development happened right under his watchful eye, without him knowing the depth of it, had Toji cross to say the least.

Thankfully, your isolation had you starved for an attentive ear, so you were eager to spill your guts about your new friend to him.

And as the good future husband he’d be to you, Toji was sure to listen now as he would in the future—or at least appear like he was most of the time.

“She’s new like me! Well, not new I suppose, but back for a stay here with her fiancé until things calm down due to all the commotion happening overseas now.”

So that woman did intend to leave.

Good.

The sooner the better so Toji’s own hand wouldn’t have to be forced and your little ‘friend’ could be spared.

Toji couldn’t have anything nor anyone coming in between the two of you—no matter the consequences from who they were associated with.

“She doesn’t have any kids so I’ve been giving her tips and sharing how I dealt with Yuji this past year. She always seems to be busy though, so we haven’t really had the chance to really do anything—but she calls me often.”

Toji’s teeth clenched.

They dared to make phone contact even?

And bad girl—you’d been so eager to give this stranger, who had no respect for boundaries, your number but you hesitated with him?

What did Toji need to do to show you he was the only one with your best interests in mind?

Toji was the only one you should have confided in and the only one you should trust.

“Heh, well isn’t that nice, ma.”

Toji would have to figure out how to deal with the problem of your new friend at a later time. He didn’t want to spend the fleeting moments he had remaining with you brooding, as it was sure to soon show on his face and sour the mood.

Pivoting the subject back to just the two of you, Toji inquired about the baked goods he’s still owed. He could tell you’d forgotten already, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity he had to taste your cooking.

It would keep him sated long enough until he could actually taste you.

“Ya know, I usually don’t like sweets though.”

Toji told you when you asked his favorite dessert and you were genuinely determined you could bake him something he’d like.

“Hmm, you know I can make a mean fudge brownie! I make them with semi-sweet chocolate too. Plus, since I moved here I also cut some sugar and added matcha to the recipe, so they wouldn’t be too sweet. they are so gooey they melt in your mouth.”

“Heh, yeah—I bet you would too, ma.”

This time, you didn’t suppress your amused cackle as you shook your head and pushed your cart forward, still overall ignoring his persistent flirtations even if you were growing more comfortable with them.

Toji sensed the playful personality you’d kept tightly wrapped under all those layers from being with Sukuna, whose cruel sense of humor would only serve to crush yours.

Toji couldn’t wait to be the one to fully draw it back out of you.

“Ugh—boy, you play too much, Fushiguro!”

Toji chuckled, pushing his cart along after yours—he could tell your cheeks were still burning though.

“—Toji, ma.”

When you both finally reached the register, Toji checked out first, slyly sliding his card to cover your groceries as well.

You were completely unaware though, having left your cart with him in line while you rushed Yuji to the bathroom.

Yuji, being the growing boy that he was, had devoured his rice snacks too quickly and promptly spat them back up all over himself.

Feeling smug in his chivalry, Toji anticipated seeing an even sweeter smile when you returned to find your groceries already paid for.

Yet, he’d seemingly made another miscalculation with you.

As when you returned to see your groceries bagged and paid for, you kept Yuji in your arms as you placed your bags of groceries in the stroller itself, storming out without a word leaving behind a dumbfounded Toji.

Toji was more than puzzled as you seemed furious at the fact Toji had done what he deemed to be ‘a-nice-thing-any-woman- would-want’.

The fuck happened?!

Shifting Megumi and own bag in his arms, Toji swiftly pursued you.

“Oy, mamas!”

You ignored him but Toji wouldn’t give up on you easily, or at all truthfully.

You didn’t realize that yet but Toji figured you must have gathered he was bullheaded enough to keep following you until you acknowledged him once you abruptly stopped and whipped around to face him.

“What, no ‘thank you’ f’er me, ma?”

Toji watched your nostrils flare as you angrily snapped at him.

“Thank you?!”

God, you were beautiful—even pissed off.

Toji knows he should be more focused on what you were saying in the moment, as you heatedly gave him a piece of your mind. However, Toji zoned out momentarily, unable to quiet his internal thoughts that screamed to him how pretty you were with your brow furrowed and cheeks puffed in indignation.

“... and furthermore you think you can just buy me, is that it?! That just because I have to rely on Sukuna and accept living in a building full of side hoes to give Yuji a comfortable life that I’ll just giggle and go along with anything like the rest of those bitches?!”

Shit.

You were actually pissed.

Ah fuck.

Toji had greatly underestimated your self-worth. Once again, you proved him wrong—and once more, that pleased him. It further highlighted how you were in fact a pearl among The Nursery pigs.

“Uh, Fuck mamas, er–I-I…no–”

Yet you proved to be such a wildcard that you had Toji of all people stuttering as he scrambled to find the right words to appease you.

“—then what?! Say something!”

Toji had to think fast.

He could see how it looked bad now, but in a rare form from his usual nature, Toji’s intentions had been honest. Toji really just wanted to show you he had the means and could take care of you—not to buy you.

Nonetheless, Toji only had himself to blame as he’s sure you’ve heard of his far less than pious reputation.

Ostracized or not, the bougie women of The Nursery were terrible gossips and he was sure you’d overheard plenty less than savory information about him.

Of course, with all things considered, you’d assume the worst of him.

But Toji had never even bothered to learn any of those bitches names, much less buy them anything—they would give him gifts.

In this situation though, to quell your anger and regain your favor, Toji devised a quick lie, hoping it would smooth things over.

“Tch,” he began, scratching the back of his head and awkwardly looking away from you.

He had to be sure to sell it.

“No, it’s just ah, the guy—er, the teller. He assumed we were together.”

Toji shifted his stance, adjusting a drowsy Megumi in his arms.

“So, you told him we were…?”

You raised a brow, huffing but you didn’t seem as angry as before. Toji saw your eyes soften a bit, distracted by a cute lil' yawn from Megumi who sleepily burrowed his face deeper into his shoulder.

Good kid, lookin out for y’er old man, aye Gumi?

Seeing how Megumi was disarming you, Toji knew this was his chance at redemption. Like a gentle giant, Toji’s large hand dwarfed his son’s small head with affection pats—an action he had picked up from observing you.

“Not exactly—but I supposed it looked that way, ma. What with the kids n’ya leaving all y’er shit with me n’all. Easier to just pay then explain.”

Toji continued before you could say anything, seeing as you didn’t look quite convinced.

“Trust me, from all of what you told me today, I know ya can take care of y’erself mamas… even if you are with that asshole.”

You regarded Toji with a scrutinizing gaze for all of a minute, yet that minute felt like hours to him.

He couldn’t remember feeling this uneasy ever—and being in the Yakuza put him in several situations in the past he thought he wouldn’t make it out of.

“Fine,” you resigned with a sigh, “It’s whatever then.”

Seeing that you had set aside the words you originally intended to scold him with, Toji felt that this was the best possible outcome he could have hoped for.

Well shit, bullet dodged.

“Uh yeah, well…I’ll see you around then Fushiguro—”

Toji couldn’t just let you leave like this, on uneasy terms with your frustration still evident.

“—Wait ma!”

And even more so as Toji stopped you once again.

“Look…I ain’t too big to admit I fucked up, mamas. Let me make it up to ya, yeah? Give ya a ride back so ya don’t hafta walk back in this heat?”

Toji knew you wanted to reject his offer out of pride, but he was serious now—there was no fuckin’ way he was gonna let you walk back.

Your load of groceries was way more than your usual trips, and on top of carrying Yuji, a sizable boy for his age, your purse and pushing the stroller would turn a 15 minute walk into a 25 minute one easily.

The scorching summer sun perched high at its peak at this time of day and the thick, near suffocating, humidity could easily turn to heat exhaustion—especially for a young toddler.

He knew you knew that too.

You’d have to accept, per Toji’s calculations.

And you did.

“Okay, why not...”

Yet the reluctance was clear in your voice.

The ride back began uneventfully, yet the calm atmosphere inside the car was tinged with awkwardness.

Megumi was snoozing in his car seat, while Yuji sat on your lap in the passenger seat.

Despite the lingering tension, Toji could see the relief on your face. The transition from the sweltering heat to the cool comfort of his air-conditioned Mercedes had clearly brought you much-needed respite.

The domesticality of it all was something Toji didn’t realize he would miss as much as he did, and it pissed him off that it was something Sukuna of all people had and took for granted.

However, when Toji glanced over at you, he tightened his grip on the wheel with both hands.

Your actions were purely innocent as you entertained Yuji, bouncing him on your knees. However, the movement caused your sundress to lift and bunch damn near to your hips.

Toji swore he could feel the steering wheel crack under his grip as he fought the urge to slide a hand onto your thigh, or at minimum over his soon-to-be-bricked-up cock.

Fuck. Get it together.

But there was nothing Toji could have done to stop his dissociative daydreams, which had grown increasingly vivid since laying eyes on you, from consuming him.

The sleek hardness of the leather steering wheel morphed to be malleable like the inner flesh of your thighs. Toji gripped the wheel tighter, which only made the visualization of how soft your skin would be in contrast to the texture of his calloused hand more apparent. The same hand which would so graciously sink into the warm plush of your skin with reassuring squeezes.

Finally, Toji would also get his answer as to whether or not you had been wearing panties. Toji’s wandering hand would only need to travel up the tiniest bit higher to press his knuckles right against your core.

And when it came down to it, whether you had them on or not mattered little to Toji—regardless of the result, he still intended to bully his thick middle knuckle directly into your clit.

Toji would take satisfaction in keeping his main attention on the road as he engaged you in casual conversation—all the while drawing slow absent minded circles around your bud. He would only pause if he felt the lil’ thing swell up enough—to the point where the soft clicking sounds from your slick could be heard if there wasn’t music playing.

He’d edge you with subtle, yet incessant, pleasure all the way home. Seeing just how much of his teasing your messy cunt could handle.

Toji's mind was stuck so badly in-between your thighs that he’d actually been caught off guard when you finally broke the silence, eagerly asking about his playlist as “How Do U Want It” pumped through the car speakers.

And that's how Toji managed to worm his way back into your good graces.

You seemed genuinely surprised to discover he was also a fan of ’90s hip-hop when he told you he was.

Of course, being a fan of ’90s hip-hop wasn’t a lie—but he had heard this particular song playing from your apartment before, so he made sure to add it to a playlist for whenever he’d be able to get you into his car or apartment.

Much to Toji’s enjoyment, before long you were laughing again as he attempted—very, very poorly—to rap along to some of the lyrics in English.

Pleased to have won you back over, Toji purposely missed at least two turns just to keep you in his car a bit longer.

If the day had ended there, he would have considered it a win.

But, of course, with his luck, things would prove to be anything but victorious.

Naturally, once you both returned, Toji carried your bags upstairs. However, that didn’t stop him from playfully teasing you.

Toji joked that—‘Miss Independent didn’t want him paying for her groceries, but she sure as hell didn’t mind him carrying them’—and was rewarded again with the soft snorts of your laughter.

It’s not like you didn’t have your hands full though, cradling both Megumi and Yuji, who were now fast asleep—one on each of your shoulders.

It was…cute.

Fuck, when even was the last time Toji even thought something was cute?

You were cute though, especially with the kids.

That he didn’t mind admitting.

Toji regretted that he didn't snap a picture of the moment. He knew it would likely be over soon.

Heh, maybe it didn’t have to be though.

With both boys asleep in your arms, Toji considered the likelihood of coaxing you to invite him in. You’d surely need help carrying both Yuji and your bags inside—but he didn’t want to push his luck, especially after he had already majorly fucked things up with you once today.

Although, Toji realized you wouldn’t need any convincing when you looked at him with a kind smile that reached all the way into your bright eyes. That was all the encouragement he needed to step across the threshold, technically uninvited, as he held the door open for you.

Toji would have entered too, had the energy not immediately shifted.

“—and just what the fuck is this?”

Motherfucker.

Down the hallway, Sukuna had since stepped out of the elevator with his right hand, Uraume, close behind. Sukuna appeared already agitated, barking rushed orders over the phone.

But Sukuna abruptly ended the call the moment he saw Toji about to enter the condo with you. And as if he owned the entire building himself, Sukuna exuded obnoxious dominance in every stride as he approached.

Toji may have outranked him but Sukuna rivaled Toji in both size and presence, sauntering over to loom behind you with an unmistakable air of possessiveness.

Tch, Sukuna shouldn’t even be here.

Toji had miscalculated—a rare miscalculation, but a big one nonetheless—what he gets, he supposed, for trusting a less than thurough intel source.

According to his, now incorrect intel, Sukuna was supposed to be in Shinjuku at headquarters. The fact that he was here, interfering with his time he had so meticulously planned with you, infuriated Toji.

Shit—he hadn’t wanted Sukuna to see you two together just yet.

Despite Toji being unable to hide his disdain, he offered a respectful nod to Sukuna, as was customary between fellow upper-ranked yakuza.

Sukuna returned the gesture in-kind, along with a smug grin that had plastered itself across his face.

Tension saturated the air and Toji noticed that your once-gentle smiles had faded, replaced by wary glances exchanged between him and Sukuna.

Toji’s hand causally brushed yours as you carefully handed Megumi back to him before you faced Sukuna.

He noticed you running over the spot on your hand where your skin had touched.

Did you also feel the electricity between the two of you burn your skin?

Toji had.

“If I knew you were coming, you could have picked me up from the store, Ryo! Then I wouldn’t have had to be a bother to Fushiguro...”

You could never be a bother to Toji.

Looking you over, Toji scrutinized your every movement. He knew you were merely trying to shift focus and keep the peace—but to do it for him?

After everything today, and how he unintentionally put his foot in his mouth with his actions?

Were—were you falling for him, already?

The slightly strained smile on your face still looked sweet enough, and Toji might have mistaken it for genuine—if not for the real warmth you’d shown him just moments before Sukuna’s arrival.

You really had saved your smiles just for him, isn’t that right mama?

Toji’s heart beats wildly at the thought, however his good temperaments were greatly diminished as he noted how the light in your eyes dimmed.

Seeing you shrink yourself to answer to Sukuna, no matter how insignificant—pissed him off.

Well, at least thanks to him, you wouldn’t have to suffer Sukuna much longer.

As Toji had expected, Sukuna didn’t try to suppress his asshole-like nature, even towards you. Your attempted olive branch had been rebuffed by the heavy hand on your shoulder. It was evident Sukuna was unconcerned with your excuses as he focused solely on Toji.

“Ah Fushiguro, I see you’ve met my son and his mother.”

Even though Sukuna had failed to give you a title, the intent behind his words and demeanor was unmistakable:

Sukuna owned you.

So that's how it is, eh?

Toji couldn’t say he was surprised.

Although his possessive nature wasn't driven by affection for you, Sukuna simply never liked to share his toys. Sukuna must have thought you were just another plaything for Toji, well aware of what Toji got up to typically at The Nursery,

Eh, and were you any other woman, Sukuna would have been right.

But you were never toy to Toji, he wanted much more than just to fuck you, even before he realized it himself.

Toji would be lying if he said that he wasn’t looking forward to that too though.

“Heh, we’ve already had our introductions before, isn’t that right…?”

Toji was pleased by the flushed, wide-eyed expression on your face when he dared to address you by your first name—just as he was pleased that Sukuna’s smirk faltered into a scowl at Toji’s bold familiarity with you.

Toji mainly did it to piss Sukuna off. However seeing you flustered, knowing he could have an effect on you even in front of Sukuna, had been a much sweeter treat.

“Oh? Then she must know not to pay heed to old roosters who are now forced to spend more time in the hen house than running the farm these days. Although, a rooster who cannot crow effectively is of little use anywhere else, I suppose.”

Toji’s expression held firm onto the casual smugness he wore, but inside he was boiling.

Toji knew exactly what Sukuna was referring to.

Since his late wife passed, Toji had been only sent for specialized jobs that required his immense powerhouse abilities. Although he could easily air out a room of 20 men, Toji was considered to be more of a loose cannon than ever before.

Simply not caring—Toji took his anger out on more than just his targeted kills with no second thoughts given to the collateral damage of the environment he was in nor the civilian casualties around. Thus Toji made the damage control messier and harder on the organization in cases where more precision was needed.

Some would have called that a liability and had him dealt with, yet the bigger liability still would be trying to ‘deal with’ Toji in the first place. Many had tried over the years for one reason or another—and it had been a guaranteed death sentence for each one of them.

Regardless, Toji had remained dog loyal to the organization though, with little care for power or status, even though it came to him anyway.

As long as he was paid, Toji had been content—and in turn, so had the organization. This resulted in Toji mostly being able to do as he pleased, even when he went a little rogue at times.

“Rooster, eh—”

Toji knew Sukuna’s condescending smug attitude stemmed from the special privileges he’d been given to sit in on the executive meetings to solve the current unrest of having to do with whatever old fuck of an executive had gotten himself offed.

Regardless, it could still be seen as a loss of status not being in those meetings. More importantly—Toji’s rogue behaviors could easily be manipulated into a target on his back should Sukuna assert he’d been a part of the internal treason.

Toji knew he had to tread cautiously with Sukuna, but Toji still did not feel threatened in the least.

“—I’d like to think of myself here as more of a fox though, it suits me better don’t ya think?”

Toji’s gaze had briefly met your own, and you quickly turned away, his grin growing even wider.

But then again, if Sukuna wanted to think Toji was down and out—Toji would let him.

It would work to Toji’s advantage in the long run with securing you as his anyway. Toji wasn’t worried as he had nothing to do with that old geezer getting wacked and he was glad they’d left him out of it.

Besides, Sukuna being brought into the inner circle could have just as easily been a way to keep a closer watch on him. After all, Sukuna wasn’t an executive—and while Toji was, his role was to eliminate threats, not uncover them. It made more sense for Toji to stay away than for Sukuna to be involved at all.

All which was a net win for Toji, as he found himself with more opportunities to spend time with you, while the organization conveniently kept Sukuna occupied.

With a swift, smooth motion, Toji bent down to retrieve the stray apple that had rolled from your grocery bag. He polished it against his suit jacket before handing it back to you with a sly smile.

“Ya know, I am just next door lil’ hen. This ol’fox is still capable of being a good neighbor. I’ll always have plenty of sugar for you too, should you ever find yourself in need…”

Toji turns to Sukuna.

“...Especially since Sukuna has his hands full on the upper levels of the farm these days, eh? S’a wonder at all how ya manage to visit the hens on this floor too.”

Toji watched with amusement as your eyes widened at the blatant innuendos given right in front of Sukuna, who merely was left growling as his cell audibly and persistently vibrated.

Sukuna deemed the call more important than the coded banter with Toji, as he all but dragged you and Yuji into the condo—leaving the groceries for Uraume to bring in.

Although he had won the battle of the day, Toji regretted his actions later that evening when he inevitably lost the war.

Sukuna made sure to let it be known Toji lost too, as Sukuna had fucked you against the adjoining wall of the master bedroom so hard the entire wall shook.

Your pained yet pleasure-filled moans seeped through the thick insulation of the walls.

Using you like you were just one of his toys, Sukuna was quite literally pounding the point home that you belonged to him with every forceful quake.

Point taken, but what angered Toji more was Sukuna was being too rough with you.

Toji could have sworn he heard you plead for Sukuna to slow down and the irony of his concern was not lost on Toji.

Toji was never known for being a particularly gentle lover himself, but your body had been through enough—you’re a mother now. You deserved better than the careless treatment of some cheap plastic fuck doll.

Nevertheless, despite the roughness, it was clear from the diluted moans through the insulation—you had liked it.

Sukuna was still making you cum.

And oh god, did Toji ever want to prove to your precious pussy that his thick inches would fuck her even harder if that’s what she asked of him.

Toji had to repress a frustrated groan when he realized he was painfully hard.

Your damped cries had Toji palming himself for relief before he even knew what he was doing.

Yet for all the perverse arousal he felt, Toji did feel some semblance of guilt.

His taunting of Sukuna ensured that this punishment was a lesson for the both of you.

But—Fuck.

Toji couldn’t deny his sadistic side.

He was a killer after all.

Even the distressed tremor of your euphoric moans sounded absolutely heavenly to him, and it wasn’t long before Toji fumbled with his own belt to drag out his heavily leaking cock.

Thick humid breaths left Toji as he hissed from having thumbed off the viscous pre-gathering on his redden tip.

Toji slowly spread it down his pulsing length, shuddering.

His frustrations at not being the one touching you—not being the one making you shiver and moan, are only rivaled by his frustration of this being the first time he’s had any real fire in his loins since he’s met you.

The fierce desire to cum was overtaking his more rational brain or self-control as he’d hadn’t been this hard in weeks, even when he’d rub one out from watching old security footage of you.

Wanting any semblance of contact, Toji placed his free hand on the wall—on the exact spot he imagined Sukuna had your cheek pressed against.

With closed eyes, Toji pictured himself cupping your face, thumb smoothing away any stray hairs or tears while he is the one thrusting into you, filling you.

His large hand encompassed his length while he thrusted into his rough palm, faster now that the speed of the thumping had increased—signaling Sukuna was close to finishing you.

Swallowing a frustrated roar, your muted cries for Sukuna through the wall brought Toji out of his fantasies and back to the harsh reality that Sukuna was the one balls deep in your tight milf pussy—while he was only in his own hand.

Nevertheless, Toji was determined to cum and even more so, determined to soon be the one making you scream in pleasure.

If you were this loud now—you’d be much louder on his cock.

Toji leaned in even closer, resting his head on his forearm against the wall, the wall that still shuddered with the force of Sukuna ruthlessly rearranging your guts.

Forcing himself to dissociate once more, so he could finish—Toji squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he bit his lip to the point of drawing blood. In the daydream, in Toji’s mind, it wasn’t the coarse skin of his palm that stroked his cock but the silky, wet heat of your cozy lil’ cunt.

Toji convinced himself that the sloshing noises that rang throughout his bedroom were from him stretching your pussy to his shape as his fat tip slammed against your cervix— and not from the embarrassing amount of pearlescent fluid spilling over his hand.

He hadn’t even cum yet—a testament to how backed up he truly was.

Toji should have been ashamed at the way his girth had pulsed in his palm, but he was so close, and so determined to finish with you, there was no room for ego.

Picking up speed to nearly the point of chafing, Toji jerked his cock feverishly. Toji came when he heard the loudest moan yet vibrate through the wall, and the banging had ceased with a final jarring shake.

Rolling back his eyes, Toji released his load all over the wall of his master bedroom, finally sated. Toji had allowed himself a strangled groan of relief, once he believed you both were no longer near the wall.

Panting and half-delirious with euphoric release, Toji’s eyes followed the trail of his thick cum splatter slowly trickling down the wall as his once engorged cock deflated in his hand.

With a curled lip and narrowed eyes, the white fluid turns red in his mind’s eye.

A dark chuckle escaped his lips and Toji fantasized what it would be like to put a slug right between Sukuna’s eyes. Toji’s large load pooled onto the floor in a similar fashion to how Sukuna’s brains would leak, spilling out as it also formed a similarly morbid pool of fluids.

Yet even despite his more ruthless inclinations, upon inhaling a deep breath, Toji felt an unfamiliar zen wash over him.

Killing was just business to Toji, and he couldn’t recall the last time the thought of offing someone had brought him this much pleasure or any semblance of peace.

Yet the fact revealed itself to him then, in that moment—the truth that he’d kill everyone in this goddamn organization for you if that's what it took.

Toji knew Sukuna wasn’t one of those cowardly fucks who would just roll over while someone moved in on his woman either, so Toji would likely be forced to kill him should Sukuna ever find out his true plans for you.

Toji sighs reluctantly—it was just a mere fantasy.

Not that he gave two fucks what would happen to Sukuna, but killing him would only fan the flames and might even cause an all-out internal war within the organization.

A war that as the top assassin, he’d be expected to quell with force—for god knows how long.

Ultimately, that would mean a loss for Toji too.

The more involved with the organization he was, the less time he’d get with you.

Brute force was never the ideal way to deal with someone like Sukuna, and it would be better for everyone if you seemingly left him of your own accord.

But what other choice did he have?

He’d do what it took to get you at the end of the day.

And while these complications may have deterred a younger Toji, you, as well as the challenge itself, breathed new life into his aging bones.

That life extended into all areas of his current one. Even the usually reserved Megumi had become less quiet and more responsive to Toji with his changed demeanor and increased presence around The Nursery.

You didn’t even know how much you were fixing his life even if you were only on the outskirts of it now.

You had made him better—so in turn, he would give you better.

Toji had no real interests, hobbies, nor friends.

Your moving-in had been the most exciting thing that had happened to him since she had been alive and Toji had lived the last year of his life on autopilot—but no more.

Now that he had something, well, someone that made him feel energized once again.

⟡

The familiar trill of a cell phone—one of the many burners he used for his yakuza dealings—pulls Toji out of his thoughts once again.

His lip curls in annoyance at the person on the line.

This is why Toji likes working alone.

Others were not only liabilities, but they were rarely ever self-sufficient.

Always wanting to ‘check-in’ and ‘confirm the plan’, rather than just taking the damn action themselves like they were supposed to.

But alas, the task of getting rid of Sukuna was something Toji knew he couldn’t do alone, he needed the intel source, even if they were unreliable at best.

Toji answers the call, but keeps it brief with his clipped replies.

By the time it ended, he was already scoffing, indifferent to the voice still speaking on the other end as he cut the call short and hung up as soon as he got the info he needed.

Shoving the phone into his back pocket, Toji sparks another cigarette.

His 'partner' had so kindly reminded him of the loose ends he still needed to tie up.

But that could wait.

For now, Toji remained where he was, stationed on his balcony—ready to stay out here all night for the small chance you may need him.

©𝐛𝐥𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐟𝐱, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.

⟢ end credits: please comment, like and reblog and lmk what you think! I'd really appreciate the feedback as this fic has been my baby working on it.

i will likely end up completing another work while i work on episode 3 as my adhd ass usually needs to break it up in order not to get writers block and unlike e2 i had only done the outline so far, so if i post something else in the meantime just know i'm still working on episode 3!

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sleepingdiaryzzz · 30 days ago

Text

ᴇᴄʜᴏᴇs ᴏғ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ

ʙʀᴜᴄᴇ ᴡᴀʏɴᴇ x ɴᴇɢʟᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

I keep seeing neglected reader on my tags so I just wanted join in 🤗

ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ!

The Batcave was eerily quiet, the usual hum of machinery and the occasional rustle of paperwork replaced by the soft sound of a child’s muted whimpers. Bruce stood in the shadows, his eyes fixed on the small form curled up on the couch, barely visible beneath the pile of blankets and pillows. The child, no longer the one he'd once pushed aside, seemed to exist in a world far beyond his reach.

His heart clenched when they shifted, those silent tears that fell like raindrops that he'd never quite been able to catch. He hated that he couldn't fix what he'd broken, no matter how hard he tried. All the wealth, all the power, none of it could mend the distance he'd created. But now, in this cavernous space where shadows ruled and secrets whispered, Bruce was trapped in his regret.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice softer than he'd ever let it be before, as he approached the couch, bending down to meet their eyes.

Reader's gaze was fixed elsewhere, lost in the memories that lingered like ghostly echoes. A broken sigh left their lips. Bruce had made mistakes, but this—their distance—was one he could never bridge with words alone.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” they murmured, their voice almost inaudible beneath the weight of the years. “Nothing will change it now.”

They curled deeper into themselves, the soft rustle of fabric only adding to the bitter silence. Bruce frowned but kept his distance. His hands twitched with the desire to reach out, to hold them close, but he was well aware that doing so would only bring more pain. The walls they'd built were taller now, sharper. There was no way in.

It hadn’t always been this way, of course. Once, they had trusted him—believed in him as a father, as the man who could protect them from anything. But those days had been forgotten in the cruel labyrinth of his own failure. He'd seen it, watched them grow from afar, sure that his way of loving them—distant, reserved, and ever cautious—was enough. But he hadn’t realized that love was not a thing to be claimed, a thing to be controlled. It was something to nurture, to build, to protect with patience and understanding. Something he'd lacked.

He took a step forward. “I know I failed you,” he said, but this time there was no deflection. The words were heavy, real. “But I am trying to make it right, and I’ll keep trying. You don’t have to be alone.”

The words fell like a hollow echo in the stillness of the cave. Reader shifted, pulling the blankets tighter around them. There was a coldness in their gaze when they finally looked up at him.

“I don’t need you now. I didn’t need you then,” they whispered, their voice steady but laced with a bitterness that cut deep. “I had another family… one that didn’t abandon me.”

Bruce’s breath hitched, the pain of the truth settling deep in his chest. The weight of their words pressed against him like a thousand stones, heavier than any enemy he'd ever faced.

"Don't say that," he murmured, his hand reaching for them, but they pulled away, the rejection too swift, too sharp. The distance between them seemed vast, a gulf that no gesture could cross. "I know I made mistakes... but I’m here now. You’re not alone anymore."

They stared at him for a long moment, as if weighing every word he'd spoken, every action he'd taken. They’d been so small when he'd first met them, so innocent in their trust. He thought back to the days when their laughter had filled the Manor, when they'd looked at him like he was their world. It felt like someone else’s life now, a time when he wasn’t as broken as he was now.

“I miss my dad,” [name] said softly, so quietly that it almost seemed like a plea. Their eyes were distant, lost in memories Bruce would never be able to share. “I miss the family that actually cared about me.”

Bruce’s hand faltered, falling to his side as the weight of those words crushed him. They were right. He hadn’t been a father to them, not in the way they needed. His life, wrapped up in Gotham’s shadows and the endless pursuit of justice, had left no room for the most important thing: them.

A wave of guilt surged through him, drowning out everything else. "I’m here, sweetheart," he whispered, though he knew how hollow it sounded. There was no magic in those words anymore. They had no weight, no warmth. Just the coldness of regret.

[Name] didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge his words. Their gaze was elsewhere—lost to the past, to the family they had once known, the family who had cared for them when he couldn’t. The emptiness in their eyes spoke volumes, far more than any word could.

"I never needed you to come back," they said quietly, as if the words were simply a fact now, not an accusation. "I survived without you."

Bruce stood there, struck mute by the truth of it. The echoes of his failures rang louder than anything else. All the money, the power, the endless resources of the Wayne family had never mattered when it came to the one thing that would have truly made a difference: love. The kind of love that nurtured, protected, and understood.

He didn’t know how much time passed before they spoke again, but the silence stretched on like a wound that refused to heal.

"I don’t want your pity," they murmured, their voice so small that it cut him to the core. “You can’t fix me now. You can’t fix this.”

Their words were quiet, but they were final. The finality of it hit Bruce harder than any punch. He had been a hero to Gotham, had saved lives, had put down enemies. But when it came to the one thing that mattered most, he had failed utterly.

They were slipping away from him, even now. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Bruce stepped back, the weight of the truth settling into the hollow space between them. For a moment, he allowed himself to feel that emptiness, to understand just how much he had lost. He had missed out on a life that could have been, a life he could have shared with them if only he had been there.

He swallowed hard and turned, the overwhelming weight of regret pulling him deeper into the shadows.

"I’m sorry," he repeated, even though he knew it would never be enough.

But the words hung in the air like a fragile thing, doomed to fade before it could truly be heard.

And [name]? They simply lay there, wrapped in their own world—a world Bruce could never return to.

#yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere dick grayson #yandere batboys #yandere batfamily #batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #😻– one shot

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p0orbaby · 3 months ago

Note

"Are you two..together?" Prompt with Leah!

Her tag needs some lovin' 🫶🫶

The question comes from a seven-year-old with sticky fingers and a dangerously unbalanced glass of orange squash. You’d been halfway through helping Leah’s aunt clear the dishes when she sidles up to you, her face scrunched in the kind of seriousness only small children can manage.

“Are you two… together?” she asks, her voice loud enough to cut through the chatter at the family barbecue.

The room quietens in a way that feels unnatural, like someone’s pressed mute on a remote. Leah, sitting at the kitchen island with a handful of cousins, freezes mid-sip of her drink. You look at her, then at the child, then at the glass of squash, which you are 90% sure is about to tip over onto your white trainers.

Leah clears her throat. “Define together”

You glare at her, already regretting letting her take the lead. She’s been smirking all afternoon, showing off during the garden football match and pretending not to hear her nan’s not-so-subtle comments about grandchildren. Now, the glint in her eye tells you she’s enjoying this far too much.

The kid frowns, considering. “Like… you kissed. We saw you”

“You saw us?” Leah says, leaning forward. There’s a playful lilt to her tone, but her ears are turning red.

“On the landing,” pipes up another cousin, this one about ten and clutching a half-eaten burger. “You thought no one saw, but we did”

You can feel the heat rising in your face, not helped by the way Leah’s trying—and failing—not to laugh.

“Well,” you say finally, crossing your arms. “What do you think?”

The seven-year-old narrows her eyes, scrutinising you like a tiny detective on the verge of cracking the case. “I think you are,” she says triumphantly. “Together, I mean. Because why else would you kiss?”

“Exactly,” chimes in the ten-year-old. “And you hold hands all the time. And Leah always looks at you like—” He pauses, attempting to mimic what you assume is some kind of lovesick expression. It’s not flattering.

The kitchen erupts into laughter. Leah’s older cousins are in hysterics, her mum is trying (and failing) to look disapproving, and even her nan has a sly smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Leah, meanwhile, leans back against the counter, looking thoroughly amused. “Well, there you go,” she says to you, her arms crossing as she tilts her head. “They’ve cracked the mystery”

“Brilliant,” you mutter, though you can’t help but smile.

“Does this mean you’re getting married?” the seven-year-old asks suddenly, her wide eyes filled with the kind of hope that makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

Leah’s eyes meet yours, and for a brief second, the teasing disappears. There’s something soft there, something that makes your stomach flip in a way you’d never admit out loud.

“Maybe one day,” Leah says casually, reaching for your hand under the table.

The kids squeal in delight, and you know you’ll never hear the end of this. But as Leah squeezes your hand, her thumb brushing over your knuckles, you think maybe you wouldn’t mind.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso #woso x reader

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espeonkin · 2 years ago

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can we get some sex repulsed ace positivity on the dash

setting boundaries with your friends is not a moral failing

not wanting to see discussion of certain topics is not a moral failing

curating your dash and muting certain terms or tags is not a moral failing

you are not required to expose yourself to anything that makes you uncomfortable

you are not "puritanical" or "regressive" for wanting your boundaries respected

you deserve a place in the community. you deserve your voice to be heard.

#asexual #asexuality #ace #lgbt #queer #acespec

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quarterlifekitty · 3 months ago

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Masterlist!

Warning: I dabble in dark content. I reblog/create posts that contain potentially upsetting content such as dub-con, noncon, piss kink, fauxcest, graphic violence, etc. these will be tagged, but peruse at your own risk.

Limit list (non exhaustive list of weird things I will/will not write about)

Call Of Duty

character tags:

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Johhny "Soap" Mactavish

John Price

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

König

Nikolai

Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist

Johhny "Soap" Mactavish Masterlist

John Price Masterlist

König

Hunstman!König Part 2 Being his healslut Midsommar Warrior and Goddess part 1 | part 2 Pyrenees and Sheep Part 2 Centaurs Kortac Sniper Letterboxd Happy Ending Clingy Again

Silkmoth!Reader

sleepy what happens when his leave is over laying eggs silkmoth threesome stretching Original expansion

Nikolai

Late Bloomer Lunar New Year School Uniforms

Multiple Characters/Misc:

Haunting Ground!AU Scary GF Anal Manicure Massages smoking weed silkmoth threesome Nik and Price sharing a wife Praise kink CBF!Soap Scent Kink Getting a Dog Second Baby Pickup Lines Conidtioning (Graves) Baby trapping them Stealthing Baby Trapping Part 2 Sneezing Insomniac Heartbroken Hookup just the tip Slasher overwatch Video Girl!AU

Selectively Mute: Ghoap x Reader

Simon getting her notes tattooed They leave notes for each other Dealing with Simon's trauma Ghoap eats you out How Simon Met her Soap joins in (official) Why Soap and Simon weren't already together When Simon gets injured on an op When you start opening up to Soap Simon fingering you in front of Soap The original post Soap hearing you moan for the first time Overstim Modes

Mermaid AU: Ghoap x Reader

When Soap discovers you How do mermaids fuck? When you return to the sea Soap's POV The original post

Weaknesses Series

Baby Photos Period Stuff Lactation Massages Birthday Present Complexes Dress up stop everything treat em mean Original

CamGirl!AU

Bidding war tips original post

Resident Evil

Luis Serra

Failed bioweapon

#writing #cod fanfic #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #könig #johnny mactavish #john price x reader #john price #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #könig x reader

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whoreforsexymen · 2 months ago

Note

anything with jayce. I am a slut for jayce. this feels like a confessional.

Time Is A Thief | Jayce Talis

Pairings: Ruined!Jayce x Fem!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her, Female Anatomical Descriptions. Mainly written in 3rd person, no use of "you".

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI! I am NOT responsible for your media consumption.

Word Count: 5.7k

Tags: Minor angst, desperation, reuniting with a lost love, smut, penetrative sex, impatient sex, riding. (MINIMAL DIALOGUE)

Summary: Jayce has been lost to the inevitable future. Driven mad by solitude, when he finally returns home, he's set on tracking down and killing Viktor. Although, he has a personal mission to find the love he lost along the way.

Notes: EEEEEEEEEKKKk! This isn't the greatest smut I've ever written, but I couldn't tarnish the romanticism of the reunion. The smut isn't super good, but I did my best to match the rest of the vibe. Hope yall enjoy <3!! More to come soon!

also, side note, there is a CRITICAL LACK of Ruined!Jayce fics. Okay?! (In Thanos Voice: Fine. I'll do it myself.)

Light.

That was all.

A brilliance so fierce it consumed all thought, leaving nothing to the imagination.

He saw everything, yet nothing at all— no trace of form or substance, only the infinite expanse of void surrounding him.

No shadow, no contour, no shape. Just emptiness. An emptiness that somehow felt full.

A paradox of being— broken, yet whole; whole, yet hollow; dead, yet alive.

Nothing made sense. Only the pulse of the moment, the light’s unyielding blaze.

The pulse of time, space, and life itself thrummed through his soul, weaving their rhythm into the very essence of his being.

Until, without warning, the vast illumination crumbled, and the world, in all its painful clarity, returned.

The light had vanished, leaving him adrift in the emptiness, only to be reclaimed by the stark hues of ordinary life. Colors surged around him—muted greys, whispers of teal, and pale pinks flooding his vision. It was almost more than he could bear.

Amidst the radiance that pierced his very essence, he was lifted—suspended in a weightless embrace, held aloft by the luminous threads of the light that had so utterly captivated him.

But reality struck like a tempest, a sudden jolt searing through him. A sharp pang tore into his senses as he plummeted, his knee barely finding time to thrust forward, instinctively breaking his fall.

He collided with the cold metal floor, the impact swift and steadfast. His knee bore the brunt of the descent, while his staff—his once-revered hammer—absorbed the weight of his shifting reality, grounding him in the unforgiving present.

The weight of the world bore down upon him, relentless and unyielding, its merciless humility a torment that carved into his flesh, stripping meat from bone. It gnawed at the core of his being, unraveling even the grey matter of his mind, piece by excruciating piece.

He could not cry out, for to do so would be in vain—a hollow echo swallowed by the abyss, silenced before it could ever bloom into sound.

He felt fragile, yet a fire smoldered deep within, winding through the quiet valleys of life that endured, unfazed. He held fast to a personal code, a mission etched in the essence of all that is veiled and sacred, shaped by the silent will of esoteric truths, runes, and the like.

There were no gods, no masters to answer to. Only his own will, and his own duties to uphold.

He couldn’t afford to fail.

He wouldn’t fail.

Not when the weight of existence itself teetered on the fragile edge between destiny and the mark he left upon it, shaping the very course of life’s unfolding.

A mission of great magnitude. Yet a plague lingered within him.

A plague of thought—relentless and gnawing. Thoughts that haunted him throughout the endless stretches of time, as he wandered the desolate wastelands of mankind’s “evolution”. They had once been his salvation, a lifeline entwined with his thirst for reckoning, feeding his drive with a dark, bloodied purpose. Yet a purpose of passion—all the same.

A passion that had once burned with fierce strength. The strength he had once known now seemed but a feeble echo, a mere shadow of the deeper meaning he had since uncovered in every word, every breath, every fleeting moment.

Images of the past, which, candidly, were the present once more, often danced in his mind, tangled in the waves of anguish that blurred the boundaries of time—and the futility of man’s existence.

Images of a certain face.

The face of a woman he had once known. Once loved. Once yearned for.

A woman who may very well have faded from existence in the time he had been lost, cast adrift in realms where he had borne the hammer of atonement for his actions in this present-day "past life."

Gods, how long had he been gone?

He had atoned for his sins enough, pleading to return to the very moment he had been torn from—plucked away from the threads of life as though he were no more than a fruiting blossom on a tree, ripe for harvest.

If he had learned anything in his time cast away, it was that mages were as unpredictable as they were dangerous—venomous, cruel, and unafraid. All-knowing, they played with the fabric of time and space, indifferent to the chaos they wrought.

He was certain he had been atomized, deconstructed, and reconstructed within the timeline he once called his own. But how far into the present, past, or future he had been thrust into remained the looming unknown.

His mission—-to reap the soul of a man he once knew.

A man that had unlocked a potential known only to him—an unlimited power that defied understanding. The two of them may very well have transcended the boundaries of time, simultaneously outliving all those they had once known, leaving only echoes of ghosts behind.

That was a question that could not remain unanswered: who—-or what—-remained of the life he once knew? What remained in the space between all that was known, and what was yet to be discovered?

Despite the vengeful conquest that fueled every pulse of his lifeblood, he carried a personal objective—one that took precedence above all else, overshadowing every other need and duty.

He must find her.

With a body and soul that ached, cried, and surged with pain at the slightest movement, Jayce clutched his faithful hammer, the staff his only anchor in this fractured moment. He grasped it with a ferocity born of desperation, driven by an insatiable need to find the one who held his heart.

He dragged himself from the earth, his bones threatening to crumble beneath the weight of every strained muscle. In the depths of his agony, he found the strength to cry out—anguish, pain, and longing intertwining in a sound that tore through the stillness.

There was no time to waste. Time was as fleeting as the many fragile faces of morality he had been shown. He pressed on, choosing to ignore the pain that gnawed at his body, for the agony in his heart burned far fiercer, driving him forward with a greater urgency.

As he forced one foot in front of the other, a faint clarity began to seep through the fog of his pain. He recognized this place—what felt like a lifetime ago, perhaps it truly was.

It was the very place he had been banished from on that fateful day, the boundaries of reality itself stripped away, peeling from his existence like old paint from a forgotten wall.

The base of the Hexgate. Miles upon miles beneath the surface, deep within the heart of the underground. So close to The Fissures that the scent of The Grey seeped through, oozing like sludge, despite the sanctity of the Hextech walls.

Yes, he knew exactly where he was—and where he had to go. Where he needed to go.

After what seemed like hours of agony, though only mere minutes in the grand scope of reality, he emerged.

The raw sunlight of the outside world felt foreign, a pale imitation of the light he’d known within the anomaly that had consumed him. It didn’t faze him in the slightest. Yet, he clung to the shadows, weighed down by the urgency of his mission, unwilling to risk crossing paths with anyone but the council he sought.

He tried to summon her face in his mind, though it danced just beyond his reach, a fading wisp of memory. The delicate details slipped like grains of sand through his fingers, leaving behind only fragments, delicate shards of a once-vivid whole. Longing was a poor name for the ache that ate away at his very being.

It wasn’t just the endless minutes, hours, or even years spent alone, adrift in the quiet expanse of time. It was the storm within his mind, the weight of the universe’s secrets pressing upon him, unraveling his memories until her face—so familiar, so beloved—was little more than a whisper, lost to the void.

How could he ever forget her face?

His grip on the hammer tightened, the weight of it suspended in the air, but he refused to rely on it. His impatience burned, driving him forward without its support.

This was his final reckoning. To bear the strain of his body, the pain of his journey, as penance for allowing his mind to forsake the thought of her.

He trudged through the shadows, a silent specter unnoticed by the lurking eyes around him, his resolve unwavering as he pressed forward, determined to reach the only place where he could search for her presence.

Every so often, ripples of time—glitches in the fabric of his mind—tore through him, sending his thoughts into chaos. They were like jolts of electricity, moments when his current self clashed with the future he had lived, battling with the past in a present that no longer belonged to him. It was no wonder such disruptions occurred, for he was living a time that had already become the past, thrown back into the present, where time itself seemed to be an elusive spectacle.

Deeming the horrors he endured—atrocious—barely scratched the surface of what he had encountered in his time away. Physically, he had survived—scraping by in the darkness of caverns, feeding on small creatures that crossed his path, and lighting fires from their bones to keep the cold at bay. It was a hell no mortal could comprehend. Physically surviving, yet endlessly lost in the mental labyrinth of unanswered questions, shattered dreams, and sudden epiphanies.

Tampering with the very energy that shaped rock from stardust, and blood from matter—the vital core of life itself. He was beyond foolish to have once believed he could wield such power in the name of humankind’s technological progress. How naïve he had been, to think that a mere mortal could control forces unknown to their kind, and expect no consequence.

This was his consequence. To have forgotten the blissfully ignorant construct of time. To have forgotten what joyfulness truly was. To have forgotten love in its entirety—who to love, how to love, and who had once loved him.

To know nothing but pain. Nothing but sorrow. Nothing but the lingering ache of ignorance lost, the fleeting happiness once found in the mere desire to uncover the answers he now possessed. He sought answers, and answers were what he got. But within those answers lay a terror unlike any other—a terror born of witnessing what could have been, what did happen, and what will inevitably unfold from his actions.

Jayce felt the weight of this burden crashing down around him, tightening around his throat like an enraged serpent. Breathing itself had become as foreign as the sunlight. He choked out, unable to cry out in pain as another ripple in the fabric of time surged through him, seemingly splitting his head in two. He screamed, yet no sound escaped him once more.

He had no time for this. No time for anything. Time was both nonexistent and forever slipping away—a paradox in its purest form.

He pressed on, driven by an iron will to reach his destination before his earthly body could endure another ounce of pain or suffering. Minutes passed, though they felt more like hours—an eternity in the spaces between each breath.

He could feel the coiled serpent around his neck loosening as the sight of a still, all-too-familiar building came into view. Jayce was breathing heavily now—panting, gasping, his shoulders rising and falling with the weight of exhaustion, a feeling he had come to know too well.

Jayce gripped his trusted hammer tightly, positioning the handle and aiming it at the solid door ahead. With a swift pull of the long metal release bar, the hum of his hextech beam sliced through the air, the door offering no resistance as it imploded.

Jayce pushed through without hesitation or abandon, stumbling through the opening he had created, breathing hard all the while. His gaze settled on the familiar surroundings. He remembered this place. Her home. His home. Their home.

He hurled his hammer aside, the hefty weapon crashing into a nearby coffee table. The sharp crack of the wood splintering beneath the weight of the metal rang through the space, a loud echo sure to stir anyone in the house—if the blast of the door hadn’t already.

Jayce didn’t pause. He doubled down, picking up speed as he raced through the lower level of the house, frantic, desperate to find her. Room to room he searched, the pain in his leg screaming in protest, but he didn’t stop.

Yet, she was nowhere to be found. Jayce cursed loudly, slamming his fist into a nearby wall, the house shaking under the force of his strike.

She wasn’t here. Where else could she be?

His anger grew as he moved, a hurricane of frustration until he reached the base of the staircase. Once more, his fist collided with the wall, a primal curse escaping his lips—anger, guilt, and confusion tumbling out in the heat of the moment.

"FUCK!" he shouted, pounding his fist repeatedly into the wall, leaving a substantial dent in its wake.

His rage was all-consuming, blinding, and relentless as he acknowledged the thick layers of dust that caked the railing of the staircase before him.

Has he really been gone that long?

He could feel the weight of his grief, the tears gathering in his eyes, threatening to fall, tracing the sharp curve of his cheekbones.

Yet another grim reality came crashing down upon him—the unbearable truth that he had, indeed, outlived the one radiant beacon of his desires, the singular flame that had given his life meaning. The knife of guilt plunged itself deeper into his chest as he realized he could no longer even summon her name, lost amid the swarm of revelations and horrors that had become his affliction.

But then, a faint sound—something delicate, breathy, and quiet—caught his attention.

Jayce had been the loudest force in the house, but his ears were tuned to the silence that followed him, alert to anything out of place.

A gasp. A small one. Almost imperceptible.

His head snapped up, his gaze sharp, seeking the source of the sound. His eyes scanned each step, weaving between the banisters of the staircase until they found the outline of a face—half of it, barely visible from behind the uppermost curve of the staircase. The spaces between the columns made it difficult to catch a clear view, but he could see just enough.

Jayce stood rooted to the spot, the air thick with disbelief. He couldn’t trust his eyes—not after all he’d endured, not after the nightmares that had taunted him for so long. But there she was, standing at the top of the staircase. Her outline blurred and shimmering, as if she were a mirage conjured from his aching, fragmented mind.

She didn’t move. She couldn’t. Her fingers gripped the banister, knuckles white, as if it was the only thing keeping her tethered to this moment. Her eyes locked on his, wide and unblinking, and the emotion within them struck him like a blow. Shock. Pain. Recognition. A mirror of his own soul laid bare.

Slowly, cautiously, she began to descend, each step hesitant as though the floor beneath her might give way.

Jayce couldn’t breathe. The sight of her stole whatever remnants of air remained in his lungs. He wanted to call out to her, to say her name, but the word escaped him, lost somewhere deep in the fractures of his memory. His hands trembled at his sides, and his knees threatened to buckle.

When she reached the bottom, she paused, so close he could feel the faint warmth of her presence. Her lips parted as though to speak, but no words came. Instead, her hand rose, trembling, hovering near his face. Her fingers grazed the roughness of his beard—unfamiliar, foreign to the Jayce she had once known. Her gaze searched his, desperate for something familiar beneath the layers of torment etched into his features. Her touch was a question, a plea, a prayer.

“Is it really you?” she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling far worse than her hand.

Her words, her cadence, the very sound of the way she construed her syllables together stirred something deep within him.

It started faint, a flicker in the void of his memory. A flash of light in the darkness, a melody half-remembered. Her laughter, her smile, her voice—it came rushing back, filling the empty, aching spaces in his mind. He remembered the way her eyes sparkled when she teased him, the warmth of her hand in his, the softness of her lips when they whispered promises meant to last forever. He remembered late nights in their home, her humming a tune he could never place, and the way she fit perfectly against his side, as though they had been made for each other.

And then her name emerged, clear and resounding, breaking through the haze like sunlight piercing storm clouds. It struck him with staggering force, his breath hitching in his chest.

“____...” he whispered, her name trembling on his lips. It felt strange and familiar all at once, like a language he had known in another life. The syllables tasted of longing, regret, and an aching love that had never truly left him. Her name wasn’t just a word; it was an invocation, a tether to everything he had been and everything he had lost.

She gasped, her hand freezing on his face as the sound of her name from his lips shattered something inside her. Her tears fell faster, her face crumbling under the weight of his voice, the voice she had feared she might never hear again.

“It’s me,” she choked out, her voice breaking, thick with disbelief and raw emotion. “It’s me, baby. It’s me.”

Jayce said nothing more. He couldn’t. The dam within him had broken, and there was no holding back the flood of emotions that consumed him. He reached for her, his hands trembling as they gripped her shoulders, desperate to anchor himself to her presence. The sound of her name reverberated in his mind, in his heart, and in his very soul.

Like clockwork, instinct overcame him, and he pulled her into his arms. His hand slid up, fingers weaving into the familiar softness of her hair, cradling the back of her head as though afraid she might disappear if he let go. The other wrapped firmly around her waist, his trembling grip binding her to him, locking her in place against his chest as if he could shield her from every cruel force in the universe.

They stood there, unmoving, a living sculpture of sorrow and relief intertwined. Their shared sobs filled the air, broken and uneven, their abdomens convulsing in an imperfect rhythm, a pattern dictated by the sheer weight of their emotions.

Her arms shot up, wrapping tightly around his neck, clinging to him with a fierceness that rivaled the serpent from earlier. But this was no constriction of malice—this was desperation, a refusal to let go, an embrace steeped in the agony of their time apart and the fragile hope of this reunion.

She buried her face into the curve of his shoulder, her tears soaking into the rough fabric of his battered coat. Jayce pressed his face into her hair, inhaling the faint trace of a scent he thought he’d never experience again. It was real—she was real. And so was he. Together, they formed an unyielding testament to survival, to love found again in the wreckage of time and pain.

The world around them faded into silence, the echoes of shattered furniture and crumbling walls irrelevant. There was nothing else—just the two of them, locked in a moment that transcended everything else.

In that embrace, time ceased to exist. There was no past, no future, only the moment—the aching, beautiful reunion of two souls who had endured the unendurable, and somehow found their way back to each other.

For the first time in what didn’t merely feel like an eternity—but what, for him, truly was an eternity—Jayce allowed himself to breathe. The unrelenting grip of despair that had clung to him for so long loosened its hold, and he surrendered to the fragile, radiant possibility of solace.

He melted into her touch, the warmth of her embrace dissolving the armor of anguish he had worn for so long. The waves of hope, love, and longing coursed through him like a rising tide, washing over his battered soul, cleansing him of every hardship and sin that had clung to him.

Each tear that fell from his eyes felt like a release, a quiet surrender to the overwhelming truth that she was here, alive, and within his grasp. For the first time in a recent lifetime of torment, Jayce felt the faint glimmer of what it meant to be whole again. In her arms, he rediscovered the segments of himself he thought had been lost forever. He pulled his face from the crook of her neck, craning up ever so slightly to meet her gaze from the step above him.

In the raw, aching silence of the eye contact, he kissed her.

It was not a kiss of restraint, not the gentle touch of lovers reunited after a brief absence. No, this was a kiss of desperate need, of a hunger so deep it could never be satisfied with mere words. His lips crashed against hers with an intensity borne of years of pain, the searing heat of their touch shattering any trace of distance that had ever existed between them. The world spun around them, time itself seemed to hesitate, unsure if it dared to move forward while these two souls collided, intertwining in a dance they had been separated from for far too long.

His hands cradled her face, as if he could memorize every curve, every contour of her like the final piece of a shattered puzzle. His thumb traced the delicate line of her jaw, brushing away tears that mingled with his own, but the salt of them only added to the kiss. Her hands clung to his shoulders, pulling him in, urging him closer, as if she, too, feared he might disappear into the ether if she didn't hold him tight enough.

Her lips were as soft as he remembered, and yet, they were so much more now. They spoke a language only the broken could understand—tender, yearning, seeking. His own lips moved over hers with an urgency that spoke of things unspoken, of years lost and never returned, of the agony of not knowing if the person before him had ever truly existed outside of memory. But here she was, warm in his arms, and the kiss deepened, no longer a question but an answer—a promise, a return to everything they had lost, and everything they could still become.

His hands roamed over her back, as if trying to remember every inch of her, as if the very touch of her skin reminded him more of everything he had witnessed than the sheer fact that it was something he had only just been through. It reminded him of everything he had suffered—just to be here, in this moment. He kissed her with the weight of all that and more, as if their love had never left him, even in the darkest hours. He kissed her like she was the last obstacle in the way of sanity in a world that had spun too far out of control. And when they finally pulled apart, breathless and trembling, the air between them was thick with the unspoken realization that the past—no matter how broken—was never truly lost.

And for the first time in forever, Jayce allowed himself to believe in miracles.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered, his voice raw and shaky against her lips, his fingers tightening in her hair, though never enough to hurt.

“I thought you’d never come back,” she replied, her voice trembling with an aching yearning. She pulled her arms from around his neck, her hands grabbing the collar of his shirt, pulling him even closer, as if their bodies could merge into one.

Jayce huffed against her lips, their breaths tangled together, hearts racing. Their lips met again, moving together with an urgency, a desperate rhythm of grinding, sliding—like they were both trying to consume the other, as if time itself could be stolen through every kiss.

There were no more words to be spoken, no explanations needed at this time. Everything that needed to be said would happen outside of this moment, beyond the confines of the here and now. In this space, within the familiar walls of their home, the only thing left to do was to cherish, savor, and surrender to the love that had been lost and now found.

They moved as if guided by an unspoken understanding, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as his hands rose to cradle the curve of her body. His fingers traced the soft, bare skin of her thighs, caressing gently before gripping her firmly, as if to reassure himself she was truly there.

With a quiet, unrelenting need, he pressed her back into the wall—the same one he had pummeled with his fist mere moments ago. The contrast of his previous rage and the tender, consuming embrace was stark, as the heat between them grew, their bodies aligning in need.

Neither of them had the patience for anything more than the raw, burning need to be together again. Clothes were discarded in hurried motions, a belt undone with an urgency that mirrored the storm raging between them.

As if their bodies had always been the missing pieces of a puzzle, they came together without thought, fitting perfectly in a way only years of passion and love could understand. It was a reunion, not just of flesh, but of something deeper—an unspoken connection that had always waited beneath the surface, now finally able to breach it.

Jayce groaned out, sinking his cock down to the hilt inside her. His belt hung loosely, the buckle clinking faintly, like a soft chime in the quiet chaos of their reunion. His hips shifted with a subtle sway, his body still aching, but driven by the shared overwhelming need.

One hand braced against the wall, fingers tracing the jagged divot he had created earlier, finding an oddly fitting purchase there. The other hand cupped the side of her face, pulling her closer, his lips leaving a trail of fiery kisses across her cheek, down the curve of her neck, and grazing the exposed sliver of skin on her collarbone just beneath the neckline of her shirt. Every touch was a silent gospel, a desperate reaffirmation that she was truly there.

He grunted, huffing out as his cock twitched amongst the walls of her cunt, her slick coating every shred of skin he buried between them.

She cried out, the tears of her passion and devastation still streaming down her face as she moaned against his shoulder, hands still gripping for dear life at his shirt.

Jayce couldn’t do anything but move—move against her, move within her, as if each shift and press was an unspoken promise. He needed her to feel the weight of everything that had passed between them, the years apart, the torment, the longing. His body spoke in the language of devotion, an unyielding motion that expressed what words could not. He wanted her to feel everything—the regret, the pain, the aching desire to make her understand that he had never meant to leave her. Every movement was a plea for redemption, an effort to show her that his absence had never been by choice, and that now, with her in his arms, he would never leave again.

Not until every moment with her had been relived in full, paid in full—a debt he had accumulated, whether or not it had ever been his intention.

Furthermore, not until the day he was laid to rest.

With the very weight of his intended unspoken purpose, he did as he needed. He began moving against her, driving his cock further into her before pulling his hips back with great resistance. Oh, how he had dreamed of staying there, deep within her, until their bodies became one. A dream he could fulfill one day, but not this day. No.

He had to do what he must. The new mission that called to him. Repentance for his guilt.

He bore down, removing the hand from her face, exchanging a greeting with her hip as he used both it and the anchor on the wall to aid the snapping of his hips into hers. Her legs coiled ever stronger around his waist as he moved, hazy spots clouding her vision as he drove the head of his cock deep into a spot she knew he remembered just where to find.

He continued, the duet of their sounds merging into a symphony that reverberated through the hollow structure of the house.

He knew he couldn’t stop, couldn't dare break his stride, but the weight of his earthly injury proved too great a challenge. His knee, the very one that had borne the brunt of the fall into the caverns that had held him captive for so long, began to give way.

A hiss escaped him as his knee buckled, sending him crashing into the wall, taking her down with him. He fumbled in frustration, angry that this obstacle had to arise now. She cupped his face gently, pulling him out of the haze of passion for a moment. Her eyes were full of forgiveness, understanding, and love.

With a soft kiss—chaste yet filled with tenderness—she slowly pushed him away. Breathless, her chest rising and falling in rhythm with his, she guided him gently toward the staircase. She eased him down to the step she had just occupied, his rear meeting the step with an awkward thud as he struggled to use his knee. She almost laughed at the flustered look on his face.

There he sat, cock out, needy as ever, glistening with the physical proof of her desires, gazing up at her like a man who had been lost in a storm for years—and in her presence, found the calm, the shelter, the promise of everything he had ever longed for.

She was never able, in all the years spent with him, to deny the way he looked at her—with nothing more than pure adoration, as if his gaze alone could encompass the depth of every sweltering emotion he had ever felt, each one overflowing like a tide too vast to hold back.

It sent lightning bolting through her veins as she lifted the hem of her dress by the waistline, clearing it from her shins as she moved them on either side of his thighs. In a quick movement, she descended into his lap, sinking back down onto his cock like a glass slipper to a foot–the kind you read about in fairytales.

Jayce’s eyes refused to close, despite the overwhelming pleasure that urged them to surrender. He couldn’t bear to look away—not when he had once forgotten her face, a face he could never fathom losing from his memory again. He would spend an eternity gazing at it, tracing every curve, every expression, if it meant he’d never risk forgetting again.

She cooed softly, a hum deep in her chest as she stilled atop him. Without warning, she braced herself with her hands on his shoulders and began to move. Her knees ground harshly against the wooden step beneath them, the sting sharp but dismissed as something fleeting, unworthy of attention in this sacred moment.

Jayce’s hands found their way to her hips, guiding and assisting her as she moved, his good knee pressing up into her, adding to the rhythm as she rolled her hips down into his lap.

He stared up at her, almost in awe, desperate to say something—anything—that might amplify the intensity of the moment. She could see the storm of thoughts behind his eyes, and with a gentle shake of her head, she silenced him, her gesture a tender "not now."

Jayce nodded, his mouth sealing shut once more as he pulled her down, their lips reconnecting in a fierce kiss. Their tongues danced together, reacquainting themselves, as the tension they both craved began to stir deep within them, rising like a wave that would soon crash.

She could tell by the way his breath quickened, and the way he gripped at her hips—attempting to pull her harder and faster against him, that he was close.

She could feel her own impending orgasm approaching faster than she cared to admit. After several more seconds, she came undone, the walls of her cunt spasming and twitching against his cock as they tightened around him.

Jayce groaned out with the unholiest of moans as he could no longer stifle his own orgasm. He came hard, slamming her hips into his lap one final time as the streams and strokes of his cum lathered her internal walls.

And just like that, as if the very fabric of time were being stitched back together, the rift felt whole again. The weight of everything that had been forced upon him, every choice he had made, and the heavy burden of his mission’s fate, all dissipated into nothingness. In that fleeting moment, the past and future aligned, and the crushing pressure of it all faded into serenity.

The two people, united by more than sweat and tears, felt a deep harmony between them, as if everything in the world had realigned. In that moment, it was as though the universe itself had whispered that all was right. Together, they could face the trials of the new day, conquer every obstacle that came their way, and overcome every hardship as one.

With the shifting weight of time that had passed, and the uncertain future that lay ahead—yet one that felt equally decided—there remained an essence of calm, unburdened by fear. In that moment, both past and future were held in a quiet certainty, as if all things had already been set in motion, and nothing could sway them from their course.

There was no challenge too great, no burden too heavy, for they were stronger together than they could ever be apart.

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anisespice · 1 year ago

Text

“ block boy ” || tokyo rev.

parings: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, kaku, sanzu, rin, ran ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. cursing, mentions of violence, blood, pregnancy mentioned in ran’s, a lot of down bad behavior on both ends lol and i think that’s it.

notes: i pledge allegiance to doechii, and the absolute banger of a song that is “what it is”. literally the first thing i thought of was bonten and couldn’t get ‘em out of my head unless i wrote something down sooo here ya go lol

notes ii: basically times where you pulled their weight when they least expected you to/when they’re not around. called the shots, took some shots, beat someone up, defended them, loving on them, stuff like this (•3•>)

tagged: @fantasycantasy, @illegalspacecow, @captaincyberqueen

“Did the severity of the situation finally click in your thick skulls, or do I have to waste more of my breath spelling it out for you?”

When MIKEY returned from his much needed evening snooze in the break room you threatened sweetly advised him to take after working for 17 hours straight, he was expecting to return to the shitstorm he left behind. However, when he entered his office, to his muted surprise there you were, in the middle of berating a handful of subordinates nearly twice your size, all shrunk within themselves as your sharp tone pierced through them all. He stood in the doorway with a curious gaze, head tilted ever so slightly as he made sure to keep quiet so not to notify you of his presence.

Mikey took note of your hip popped outward, balled fist rested upon it in the stance he knew all too well whenever you were on your last nerve. Knowing what those idiots did, someone was bound to stumble outta there in tears; your fury wasn’t for the weak.

You eyed the group with raised brows, expectant. “Well?”

One member was brave, or stupid enough to actually answer. He hesitated, but cleared his throat and replied, “I-It was an honest mistake…we thought the product was secured in the truck already when we made the exchange, b-but-”

“B-B—Bullshit. You were given specific instructions to check the inventory to make sure those smarmy assholes weren’t trying pull a fast one, and you were too careless to do a full sweep. You failed abortions not only made Bonten look like complete amateurs, but you added more nonsense for my man to deal with all because you didn’t check the back of the goddamn trucks!”

You flung the clipboard you were holding at the guy’s head, making them all duck around to avoid getting hit, only one unlucky sucker wasn’t as quick as the wooden projectile got him right in the nose. He yelped, no doubt it was broken with the sheer amount of force you put in the throw. Mikey barely flinched, but he did blink a few times in astonishment.

“You’re gonna hunt those fuckers down like dogs and make right of your ‘mistake’ by the end of today, or I’m gonna have Sanzu chop you into pieces and throw you in the Shinano River-!” Mikey cleared his throat.

You swiftly looked over your shoulder at the noise, mood doing a complete 180 when you locked eyes with the object of your affection, skittering over to wrap him in your arms. “Oh! Jiro, baby, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“‘s okay..” he leaned into your warmth, eyes hooded as he graced you with a faint, sleepy grin. “Didn’t want to interrupt your.. meeting. Seemed serious.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Just doing a little ‘housekeeping’ until you got enough rest, that’s all.”

He slowly nodded, lips pursed. “Could’ve sworn I pay good money for people to do that for me.”

“You do, but I was already here. Figured it was more productive to handle it myself rather than waste time looking for someone available. Besides, had to make sure you didn’t try to sneak your narrow butt back in here to continue working—We both know I’m the only one around here who can keep you in check.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“Mm.. can’t say you don’t fill the role of boss rather nicely. It suits you. Should have you do it more often.”

Though you were sure he was teasing you, you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow warm at his praise. You lightly hit his arm, bashful. How this was the same woman who struck fear in a room full of criminals was beyond comprehension, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Speaking of which.. Mikey couldn’t help but notice the said group of subordinates silently begging for him to reconsider in his peripheral, hands clasped in prayer while the one with the busted nose bowed deeply to the floor, forehead to hardwood. It was as if the idea of you being in charge any longer brought them great despair. How interesting.

Huffing through his nose, Mikey placed a loving kiss on your forehead whilst eyeing the group behind majority of his stress for the day, void of any remorse as he coldly spoke.

“Matter of fact.. think ‘m still feeling a little tired, angel. How about you handle another hour f’me? Or two?”

The silence was deafening as the dual-color eyed man avoided looking at you while you stitched him up without a word. When you were greeted by a bleeding KAKUCHO at your doorstep a little past midnight, pale in the face and could barely stand, there were no questions asked as you quickly escorted him into your home, setting him gently on the couch before you sprung for your first aid in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what he could say in that moment, feeling like a complete moron for even showing up looking like he fled a crime scene which he kinda did but that’s besides the point. Your relationship was still in the budding phase, just starting to get a feel of one another as you tested the waters.

Well, consider the waters tested.

“You’re not really an undercover cop, are you?”

Kakucho gulped. He slowly shook his head, eyes trained on his lap while yours felt like they were burning holes right through him. You nodded as you continued carefully stitching him up. It wasn’t the best, but it would hold him over until he got proper medical attention. At first, he figured that would be all you said to him. But, when you completed dressing the wound, you asked a follow up question. “It’s something illegal, isn’t it?”

He couldn’t bring himself to answer, his strained grip on his pant leg enough response. Kakucho half expected you to berate him, curse him for potentially endangering your life, for lying.

“.. forgive me..” he croaked, bowing his head.

He felt sick to his stomach, he couldn’t bear the thought of you despising him, but he’d honor your wishes without protest if you never wanted to see him again…

However, what he didn’t expect was for you cup the sides of his face and bring his wavering gaze to your soft one. You smiled endearingly at the bewilderment that overcame his ashamed expression, him blinking at you widely with tears hanging onto his lashes like a wounded puppy. Your thumb ghosted over the tiny droplets, careful not to aggravate the bruise forming around the socket.

Leaning forward to shower him with tender kisses, Kakucho was at a crossroad—One side wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of goo, but the other refused to believe that he wasn’t hallucinating, waiting for the sick twisted punchline of this dream come true. Feeling him still so tense in your hold, you leaned back with your smile still present.

“This doesn’t change how I feel about you, Hitto.”

Kakucho blinked. Then, he meekly replied. “W-what?”

You coyly tilted your head, “To be honest, I always figured there was something…off about you. Like, you were holding something back. My first guess was that you were seeing other women-”

“Never.” His eyes switched from uncertain to stern in a matter of seconds, as if the implication alone repulsed him. He softened once you giggled at his declaration, patting his leg in reassurance.

“I know. You’re much too sweet to be a player. I pondered over it for a while, thought back to how we usually met up late at night, or you would have to leave at odd times. My second guess was your work just kept you really busy.. and after tonight.. after all of this,” you gestured at the blood stains everywhere, “safe to say I was on the right track.”

Kakucho hesitated. “And that doesn’t…put you off?”

“That you’re a thug?” He winced, but nodded. The silence that followed behind was borderline suffocating, leaving his hands sweaty and nerves shot as he anticipated your response with baited breath. But, he didn’t need to worry.

With a loving coo, you placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, right over the split in his lip causing him to flinch slightly at the sting, but he welcomed the affection all the same. However, when your warm tongue peeked out to soothe the cut in slow, teasing swipes, homie nearly choked.

Kaku’s jaw fluttered open as a soft gasp escaped him next, the sensation foreign but not unpleasant as he felt his entire face heat up like a furnace. Your sudden proximity forced him back on the couch while you slid down to the floor betwixt his spread legs, making his head spin; this wasn’t going like how he thought it would at all. Being careful of his stitches, your arms rested on either side of him as your tongue explored his mouth, making him groan softly at the feeling of the wet muscle tangling around his so earnestly, hand reaching up instinctively to caress the side of your face as he deepened the kiss. His other hand held your waist, gripping your shirt as if he couldn’t believe you were there—That you wanted to stay.

The ravenette’s breath hitched when he felt one of your hands trailing up his thigh, slowly but surely making your way to his stiffening cock confined in his pants. Slightly startled, Kakucho pulled back from the heated kiss, a string of saliva still keeping you connected as you panted in each other’s mouths. Before he could question what you were up to, he cuts himself off with a whimper when you palmed his thick shaft while maintaining intense eye contact, a smile on your face as you sent the gangster into paradise when you sweetly whispered:

“Always wanted to be a ride or die.”

It was as if someone pushed him into an alternate dimension.

Not even moments ago, you were showing SANZU a cute tiktok of a kitten wrapped up like a burrito and mewing dramatically, nearly tearing up at the sight as you tugged on his arm and pleaded for him to buy you one just like it. Having bought out the entire evening in one of Tokyo’s most exclusive five star restaurants for your anniversary, Sanzu figured it’d be nothing more than a simple night with his lovely wife. Man’s must’ve forgot who he was.

When those fools tried an ambush on him, Sanzu was more than happy dealing with them quickly by just airing them out until his gun was empty. Although, as he went reaching for it, imagine his shock when you held his wrist to stop him. You had a different sentiment.

It was like a scene out of one of his most crazed fantasies. His lovely wife, holding his beloved katana to an enemy’s throat, covered in the blood of his comrades as he sobbed pathetically for you to spare him. As if Beatrix Kiddo entered the chat, you sliced into them with a swiftness, shredding through them all like paper; a dinner and a show. He wasn’t sure when you learned how to wield the weapon with such grace and precision, but he couldn’t care less when his pants were this fucking tight. But he couldn’t let you have all the fun, watching your six any time a goon tried to get the jump on you while your back was turned, Sanzu was quick to bust a cap right between their eyes. After spilling gallons of blood from the opposition, leaving one still standing, you decided to play with him a little bit.

“P-Please! I-if you let me go, you’ll never see my face again, I-I swear! I was just..just following orders, I-”

“Oh, c’mon, where’s your conviction from earlier, huh? You were so confident before I minced all your friends. What was it you said you’d do to me once you killed my husband? Can’t seem to put my finger on it…Haru, darling, do you recall?”

Sanzu, with his chin placed atop his interlocked fingers like a smitten fool, smoothly answered, “Said he’d ‘Fuck you raw on top of my corpse’.”

You winked. “Bingo. Thank you, handsome.”

“Welcome, gorgeous.”

The sniveling man yipped when the blade nicked his skin, a thin stream of blood flowing in its wake as you pressed it closer to his throat. His heart rate paced like a rabbit caught in a trap, nostrils flaring as he breathed sporadically while his life laid in the palm of your hand.

“Guess that didn’t go according to plan, aw.” You sardonically cooed, spurring on a bit of rage as he gritted out a dry ‘Fuck you’ in his final efforts of showing dominance. “Oo, there’s that passion we were missing!~ Let’s see how much more I can carve outta yo-”

Hearing the sound of faint sirens in the distance, Sanzu clicked his tongue in annoyance. With a grumble the pinkette popped a piece of his steak in his mouth and spoke between chews as he cocked his gun, “Alright, [_____], playtime’s over. We gotta haul ass.”

You pouted. “But, we didn’t get to fuck on top of his corpse...”

Sanzu swallowed, hard. He couldn’t help but internally groan with desire at your innocent display of vulgarity, tempted to take you up on that offer, but the last thing he wanted was for you to be involved in a standoff with the cops. You’ve proven you can handle yourself very well, a lot more than he realized that’s for sure, but you were still his precious baby at the end of the day.

Better to keep you out of danger than thrust you in more of it, no matter how much the thought excited him.

“Next time, pretty baby.”

You huffed. “Fine.”

Without hesitation, you strummed the man’s throat like a cello, the katana tearing through the skin with ease. The symphony of gurgles that escaped him sent shivers down Sanzu’s spine as he watched in manic glee as the man choked on his own blood. You never looked more stunning covered in red and holding his blade like it belonged in your hand, he wanted nothing more than to ravish you on the spot, but as the sirens drew near he tamed his urges just this once. You took his extended hand gratefully, swaying them as you both rushed for the restaurant’s back exit.

Once outside, while he scoped out the area for any cops patrolling, you nudged him. When he turned to see you beaming at him whilst blood stained your face, he swore his heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“You’re getting me a kitten to make up for this, right, Haru?”

He raised a brow, but exhaled a chuckle. “Sweetheart. Show off that violent side of yours more often, and you can have as many as you want.”

“You good, ma?” A delightful shiver ran down your spine and straight to your pussy.

That was always the visceral response your body had whenever RINDOU spoke, especially low and intimately in your ear. From either gently waking you first thing in the morning, or to secretly shit-talk in crowed areas, it was his go-to method to getting your attention effortlessly. A dangerous method, one that was about to make you act up in front of all these important clients, decorum be damned.

“I am now,” you purred, falling back into his embrace as strong arms came vining around your waist. He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple as he gently swayed you both to the rhythm of the soft jazz playing over the speakers of the ballroom.

“Missed me that bad, huh.” You nodded with a slight pout, turning in his hold to stare up longingly into his eyes. They were lidded, heady. Another dangerous method of your husband’s that made you weak in the knees—his undivided attention. “Bored?”

“So fucking bored,” you whined, tugging on his lapels. “These things are always such a drab..”

Rindou hummed, hands slowly slipping down from your waist to hold your hips. You tensed slightly, not even bothering to mask the second shiver it caused. His grin turned sharp in response, head tilting. “Ya sure that’s what has you so out of it?”

You tilted yours, confused. He continued, “You’re not as subtle as you think you are. You’ve been eye-fucking me for the past ten minutes. Came over to make sure you weren’t dripping all over the damn floor—”

“Shut up,” you jabbed him in the side, face boiling. Rindou barely flinched, squeezing your hips as he snickered cheekily at your embarrassment. “You’re so irking...”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. If you knew I was horny, I could’ve been folded on my back ten minutes ago.”

“Hm, almost as if I was doing something important, like…” he trailed off, making you squint and almost jab him again until he grabbed your hand in the last second, bringing it to his chest with a smug grin, “working.”

You huffed, “I’m important too…do me.”

Rindou snorted, but brought your hand up to gently kiss the inside of your wrist with a tender look in his eyes. “‘course you are, baby. Didn’t know it would go for this long, ‘m sorry.”

“Then, how ‘bout you and I take a little…smoke break,” you suggested, hopeful; desperate. However, it’s futile when your husband clicks his tongue.

“No can do. Kakucho’s still not over the last time we took a ‘smoke break’ together.”

“He’s not? Seriously? We weren’t even gone for that long!”

He raised a brow. “[______]. The check made it back to the table before we did.”

You groaned, exasperated as you wiggled around in his hold. Rindou merely watched in mirth, not even phased as he let you finish your tiny tantrum. He teasingly cooed, “I know, I know. Poor thing can’t go a day without something plugging up her slutty little hole.”

“Shut up..!” You shrunk into his chest to hide away from the sultry words spoken directly in your ear, thighs clenching together as his deep chuckle came soon after.

Rindou was very much aware of your voice kink. It filled his ego to the brim with how needy you were, crumbling anytime he so much as spoke to you in a certain way. There’s nothing he wanted more than to ditch and bury himself in your thighs, giving it to you however you wished, for as long as you wished, whispering praises to you with a sprinkle of degradation in there to keep you craving for more of his soothing voice. But, unless he wanted his nuts handed to him on a silver platter by his stickler of a superior, you were just gonna have to wait.

And he knew how much you hated doing that.

“Ten minutes.”

He sighed. “[_____]…”

“Five minutes?”

“We can’t-“

“A minute, god, I don’t even have to finish, Rin, please.” You whined in his ear, forcing him to close his eyes as a means to strengthen his resolve. It didn’t do much help when your arms wrapped around his neck to gently rake your manicured nails against the nape, your thigh deliberately rubbing up against the growing erection confined in his dress pants. The tables had turned with a shiver now running down his spine, mind turning to mush as common sense slowly sunk into his dick. Maybe…sparing just a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Even though the lavender-haired gangster couldn’t see your face, he was certain you were grinning victoriously at the sound of his resolve breaking instantly, the slow exhale through his nose being all the confirmation necessary. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who was needy.

Swallowing down a groan, he hissed through clenched teeth, “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”

Giggling, you were already leading him toward the nearest exit, swiftly evading the eyes of his coworkers, satisfied that you were getting exactly what you wanted in the end.

“Better me than Kaku.”

“Like I’ve already explained to you, Officer. My husband’s been here all day. Dunno if you’ve noticed, but he can’t exactly afford to leave my side for more than ten minuets let alone an entire evening.”

Despite gesturing to your swollen stomach and the small child shyly peering from behind your leg, the cop still fixed you with a skeptical look. You did your best to remain unnerved, providing comfort for not only your son but yourself as you ran your fingers through his hair. Apparently, there had been a shootout that happened in the streets of Tokyo, and apparently a witness was able to describe one of the shooters…

Henceforth, the unexpected visit from law enforcement. Again.

“Mhm. And, may I ask, where exactly your husband is now? Surely if he’s been tending to his pregnant wife, he wouldn’t have her answering the front door.” He raised an eyebrow, wry grin stretched across his face.

You worked your jaw, annoyed. “In the shower.”

“How convenient. Washing off the blood, I assume?”

“You can assume whatever you want, it doesn’t change my answer. He’s been here, with us. Whoever said they saw him was mistaken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got mouths to feed. Have an evening, Officer.”

“Now, hold on—”

Without an ounce of hesitation, or care, you slammed the door in his smug little face. And just like that…blissful silence. A grand weight lifted off your shoulders at the disgruntled sound of the pig’s flat-footed steps exiting out of your day. Releasing a slow exhale, your son took it upon himself to blow a raspberry at the closed door, having worked up the courage to mock the officer now that he was out of sight.

You grinned as you ruffled his hair, endearingly. “You tell ‘em, baby.”

However, that silence didn’t last long as RAN made himself known now that the coast was clear. Having hid around the corner in case things escalated, he too released an exhale, easy grin spreading across his face. Though your child was happy to see him, racing to cling onto his long legs, you merely glared in disapproval. Based off his appearance alone, disheveled and glistening with sweat, you wished your fib from earlier was true; he needed a shower.

“[S/n], don’t touch daddy right now…he stinks.”

Though a bit childish in your phrasing, Ran was well aware it held an underlying meaning, a chill running down his spine under your harsh scrutiny. He cleared his throat, somewhat nervous, as he searched his brain for honeyed words that would soothe your soreness toward him. And he laid it on thick.

“That’s ‘cause Daddy had to run the rest of the way home to make sure his babies were safe,” he leaned down to scoop up the clinging child, lightly tickling at his stomach poking out from under his pajama shirt to receive more joyous squeals. “But, Mommy scared away the big, mean police man all on her own, didn’t she?”

“Yea!” [S/n] squeaked, bright laugh bouncing off the walls as he wiggled around eagerly. You felt the corner of your lip twitch upward at the sight, but you pursed your lips to hide the impending smile—Ran noticed. He always did.

“Yeah.. we’re real lucky to have someone as wonderful as her to watch our backs whenever we’re in trouble.. right, mama?”

Your glare still remained, though not as harsh compared to moments ago. Despite the mirth swirling in his lavender gaze, you took note of something else hiding within. Something more raw, more vulnerable.

Remorse.

Ran didn’t like getting you caught up in his business. He did everything he could to ensure that none of you were ever exposed to the ugly parts of his life. Tonight, he was sloppy. He fucked up, and he knew that. The second shit hit the fan, his only priority was his family… You had every right to be livid with him, having both your son and a pregnancy to deal with virtually on your own, while also covering his ass from prying cops itching to nail him to the wall…It’s a miracle how you haven’t packed up and left him yet…

And he thanks his lucky stars that you haven’t.

With another deep exhale, you rubbed your temple. “I don’t know what it is that you do in those streets to cause such an upset, Ran-”

“For the record, tonight wasn’t exactly my fault-”

“-and I don’t care. I just…”

Your exhausted tone was more than enough to shut him up. He felt his throat tighten as he gently bounced your son on his hip to distract his increasing anxiety. The lavender-haired man mentally prepared for your scolding, already set on sleeping in the dog house if that’s what got him in your good graces again…but it doesn’t come. Eyes that were hyper focused on [S/n] fiddling with his loosened tie slowly trailed up at the sound of you huffing in, what he assumed to be, relief.

Waddling over to your boys, you reached up to caress their faces. Instinctively, they nuzzled into your palms, Ran a little more hesitant than your beaming son before reaching out with his free hand to touch your stomach. When your unborn child kicked against it in response, you noticed his shoulders visibly relax. Your thumb gently rubbed under his eye, frowning at the dark circles that formed on the pale skin. He looked solemnly into your eyes, turning his head slightly to kiss the inside of your palm. You sighed once more, eventually granting him a smile in reassurance.

Despite his abnormal lifestyle, and how hectic it could get, “I’m just glad you’re home.”

#🍁wasabi #𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞~✩#tokyo rev #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyorev smut #tr smut #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #bonten x reader #bonten smut #manjiro #kakucho #sanzu #ran #rindou

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sotwk · 26 days ago

Text

Stay With Me (Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader)

When Reader is caught in an active shooter situation, Bucky races to her rescue.

Word count: 1.9k Genre tags: action, romance, hurt/comfort, angst, realized feelings, knight in shining armor Rating: Teen Content Warnings: Gun violence, terrorism/terror, blood, injuries, active shooter event, mention of death, brief foul language To Read on AO3: LINK

Stay With Me

Bucky Barnes x FReader

“He's dead.”

Your whisper seemed as loud as a foghorn in the echo chamber of the deserted stairwell. You clamped a hand tightly over your mouth to mute a sob, letting your terror vent only through the hot tears streaming from your eyes. But beneath the rising tide of fear for your own life ran a current of fury. Anger that you couldn't save Richie, that you failed the wife and toddler waiting at home for him.

“You can leave him now.” Reception was spotty at the landing between the ninth and eighth floors, but you could make out enough of the speaker’s words over the phone. “I'm sorry, but you have to. Get out, just run--get yourself out of the building right now.”

“Bucky…” You staggered up from the floor, transferring your cell phone to your other ear. You swiped your sticky crimson palm against your hip and forced yourself away from the view of your coworker's lifeless body. I'm so sorry, Richie.

The first step down sent a shockwave of pain from the bare sole of your foot up to your knee. You bit down on your lip to squelch a scream and grabbed onto the railing in time to prevent your collapse. Bucky’s garbled voice over the line rose in volume, but you caught none of whatever he said.

“I'm…I'm heading down,” you managed to gasp, and, hooking one arm over the rail like a crutch, proceeded to stumble, one agonizing but determined step at a time, down the flight of stairs. It’s just a bad cut, it won't kill you. You had ditched your high heels so you could more easily bear Richie’s weight, and during the arduous crawl from the meeting room to the stairwell exit, you must have trod on a piece of sharp debris. The AK-wielding gunmen had left behind plenty of it when they demolished the glass-paneled display cases lining the main corridor, firing round after round down the halls to no seeming end or obvious target.

None of those wild shots reached you in your hiding place under the conference table. But Richie, who had braced his weight against the lockless door to ensure no one could enter, collapsed when a bullet punched through wood to catch him right in the shoulder. By the time you attended to him and checked whether the coast was clear to flee, seemingly the entire floor, maybe even the entire building, had cleared out. The one saving grace was the shooters’ timing: by sundown, only a fraction of the building’s two thousand daytime occupants remained. You and Richie were the lucky ones in your department who had chosen that day to work overtime on your big presentation.

When you refused to leave without him, the half-conscious Richie finally agreed to lean against you and hobble along as best as he could. Even when Bucky warned you against moving him, you didn't listen. Your foolish attempt at heroism just caused the true hero to die faster and in greater pain.

“Bucky, are you--” A whimper flew from your throat, and you held the phone away from the pathetic sound. You stopped at the next landing and sucked in a couple of sharp breaths, willing yourself to regain composure. But your legs were shaking so badly, and the smell of blood suddenly made you feel like vomiting. “A-are you close?”

“I'm turning into Centre.” Cell reception had improved enough to make him fully audible. But somehow, hearing his voice clearly made your tears fall faster. “Less than a minute.” He didn't sound even the slightest out of breath, but you knew he was sprinting through the packed city sidewalks with all of his strength. “Just get as close as you can to the ground level. I'll find you.”

How? You wanted to believe him, but a single person inside one of the most massive buildings in Manhattan was a needle in a haystack. Your first instinct once the shooting began had been to call him. Not 911 or your parents or any of your siblings. The guy you've been casually dating for a few months, who's never even spent the night. Even though you'd known him longer than that, when a mutual friend introduced you soon after the rehabilitated and reformed Winter Soldier settled into Brooklyn post-Blip, labeling him “boyfriend” felt like a presumptuous stretch.

Still. Finding yourself in danger, it seemed like common sense to call on the one superhuman you personally knew. And regardless of what you might mean to him, Bucky didn't waste a second in dropping everything to race across the bridge during rush hour, vowing repeatedly to get to you.

“Stay with me.” Bucky said suddenly, making you realize you'd gone completely silent. “It's almost over. SWAT’s in and sweeping the building. They've taken down three guys so far, up on the 19th and 20th. I’m at the corner of Chambers. You’re going to be okay.”

“Really?!” You gasped, and every muscle you possessed seemed to go limp with relief. But that relief broke you, and you slumped down on the step in a puddle of exhaustion and chest-wracking sobs.

You put the call on speaker and let the phone dangle loosely in your grip as you buried your face into your knees. Over the line you could hear the commotion in the street below, of sirens and megaphones as emergency responders barked instructions to each other and to the anxious crowd. And then all that uproar receded, and you knew Bucky had slipped past it all.

“Th-thank God. Thank you!” you choked out. “I… I screwed up so badly. I was stupid, and stubborn, and--”

“No. You did good,” he interjected. “You refused to leave a friend behind. You did everything you could for him. His dying is not on you.”

You glanced upward. “I should go back for him.”

“We’ll get him together, after you’re safe. You’re in the north-eastern wing, right?”

“Yes.” You weren't sure how he already knew your office location. You’d mentioned your government desk job to him maybe once before, in passing, before moving off such a boring conversation topic. You forced yourself back up on your feet and checked the small square signage by the exit door. “I’m still in the stairwell, fourth floor. I can keep going down--”

“No, just stay put. I’m coming.”

Somewhere below you, a door banged open. Strings of loud curses bounced against the walls and heavy footsteps pounded on the metal staircase in a furious ascent.

Fear froze you onto the landing. He halted abruptly when he was just one set of steps away. His eyes were wild and huge on his red, sweaty face, and his look of deranged panic changed at the sight of you. He reached into a pocket of his camo tactical vest and you saw the flash of a knife blade right before he lunged forward.

You crashed through the heavy fire door and stumbled into the fourth floor corridor, barely managing to stay upright on your cut-up feet. “BUCKY!!!” You screamed with all the breath in your lungs and started to run, calling upon adrenaline and whatever strength could be summoned from your depleted reserves. “BU---”

Your head snapped back as a fist closed around a chunk of your hair and yanked so roughly, spots exploded in your vision. A thick arm wrapped tightly around your neck, shutting off your screams, and as it squeezed, threatened your oxygen as well. A wiry beard scratched against your cheek as an angry hiss filled your ear.

“Fuck the cause! Fuck all of it, man! I ain’t dying for this, not today, and you're going to make sure of that.” The cold point of the knife pressed into the side of your belly. “So you do exactly as I tell you. ‘Cause if I go down, you'll bleed out with me, understand?”

As the gunman started to drag you along, in the direction of the nearby service elevator, a burst of rage ignited in you, triggering instincts that had been drilled into you by the diligently protective men in your family. Who always taught you to never take this kind of shit. And this coward, you realized, was banking on his knife because he knew he wasn’t that much bigger than you.

You dropped your weight and planted your feet hard on the ground. Shoving your hands into the small gap between his forearm and your neck, you yanked down on his hold and pivoted away from his chest. Bellowing as you slid free, he slashed at you widely with his knife, throwing himself off balance. You lurched aside before rebounding at him, seizing the shoulders of his vest and raising your leg to ram your knee into his face.

He recoiled and threw his hands over his nose, howling, but in the next second he charged blindly. You turned and ran, but made progress only a few yards before a weight plowed into the back of your legs. You crashed down, barely bracing yourself for the facedown impact, your chin connecting with the carpet and rattling your brain.

Still, you thrashed around and clawed with your hands and kicked and screamed. The gunman crawled on top of you and raised his fist over your head…and went flying far across the floor. He smashed into a row of cubicles with such force, the partition walls broke completely and buried him from view.

You might have blacked out for a second, maybe more, but the next thing your eyes beheld when they reopened was Bucky's face. The next thing you felt, his hand bearing down hard on the left side of your abdomen.

“What…” you mumbled, or at least tried to. Your throat was too dry, and you tasted blood, and you were just so tired and numb, except for the burning spot that Bucky was applying pressure to. The look in his eyes explained the rest.

“I'm here.” His metal palm felt smooth against your cheek. Cold fingers traced lines along the base of your neck, keeping you from slipping into unconsciousness. “Stay with me. Stay with me.”

“What’s…” You wriggled against the weight of his hand, and clutched at his arm in a reflexive need to pull yourself up. “I’m…” He pressed you back down and in place, shaking his head vigorously.

“No, no, no, not here. Not like this.” From his grimace sang an anguish you’d never seen before, that you didn’t think he was even capable of feeling. “I just need a chance. I won’t waste it again, not another second. I swear.” He leaned down close enough to touch his forehead against yours. His whisper was a plea against your skin. “I just…I need another chance.”

You reached up and touched your fumbling fingers against his jaw. “All the chances you want,” you whispered back.

Bucky wrapped his hand tight around yours and held on. He would not let go. Not when the emergency responders arrived and converged around you and he lifted you onto the gurney himself. Not when he climbed into the back of the ambulance that would take you to the hospital.

When the time finally came for you to be wheeled away to an area he couldn’t enter, the promise he made to you without words was already clear: as long as you agreed to stay, he would never again let you go.

Want more Bucky? SotWK's MCU Masterlist

#bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #mcu fanfic #non-tolkien fic #mcu

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