#or a wall being destroyed with a fork

[foxtriestobiteandmaimandkilland]

I need 2 explode actually rn. Fuck. There are so amny things i need 2 do and i dont have the. Emotional energy. To do any of them. I want to sink into my bed and hibernate but. Even that sucks. I need to explode.

Yknow what would fix me rn tho. There r a ton of things i need 2 buy. But i dont have the money 2 buy anything rn. Capitalism dying forever would fix me.

And getting some impulse control as well. And like. Not doing thinhs. W/o thinking abt it for like. A decent chunk of time b4hand

[satorusugurugurl]

i love everything you write like i wake up just to read them over and over again. could i request some more angst to smut please (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

JJK Men: Going from angsty to smutty!

Characters: Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, AFAB!Reader

Warnings: fighting, yelling, curing, smut, unprotected smut, creampies, dirty talk, making up, mentions of blood and death (Suguru’s) spitting daddy!kink, oral sex, male receiving

Word Count: 8,140 (oops)

A/N: HI Nonnie thank you for the request!! I'm so glad you're enjoying my stuff!! I had a lot of fun with these! I hope you enjoy! Love u! 💚💚💚

Nanami Kento:

Nanami Kento was leaving you again.

He left you once after you graduated high school, giving up the Jujutsu world for his salary job. That nearly destroyed you. You begged him to stay, but once he made up his mind, there was no changing it. So he left and was gone for four years. Until one day, he called Gojo, telling him he wanted back in.

Of course, you were happy to see him back, but you were hesitant to get close to him again. But fate had other plans for you. Everywhere you went, he was always there. Whether you were getting drinks at the vending machines, in the break room, walking around school, or grabbing drinks with your coworkers and friends afterward. He'd always give you a sweet smile and motion to a spot next to him, to which you would refuse until you drunkenly made the mistake of stumbling over to him one night.

He looked so handsome, his hair pushed back, tie discarded, and top buttons undone on his dress shirt. Watching him chug down his beer with a slight flush dusting his cheeks made you feel stupid emotions like longing, lust, happiness, and hopefulness. Maybe if you were to open the door to a relationship with him, it would work out. Both of you have matured so much over the years. Maybe if you gave it another shot, it would work this time.

The night you threw your arms around him after downing a ton of shots to give you the liquid courage even to approach him, he was kind enough to make sure he drank water, took you, and told you you would discuss it in the morning when you woke up the next day with the pounding headache, Nanami was there with aspirin and a water bottle. Even without the alcohol, you were able to tell him that you missed him; you missed the two of you together.

And Nanami felt the same.

That morning led to make-up sex and the beginning of your relationship for a second time—one stronger than the first, built on truth and trust. You never kept anything from each other, always being honest about how you felt and what you wanted in the future. Life had been great until he took you to dinner one late fall evening.

“I’m leaving for Malaysia in a month.” His words felt like he’d stuck red hot needles into your lungs, making breathing hard as your fork fell out of your hand, clanking against your plate. “I bought a property on the beach and will build a house there.”

“Y-You—you’re leaving?”

“Yes, I finally have enough money saved up that I can leave this place, not have to work, and spend the rest of my days reading the books I haven’t gotten a chance to— .”

Your timid voice interrupted him. “You’re leaving me?”

“Darling, it’s not—”

You grabbed your phone, fighting against the burning sting in your eyes. “No, it is.” You were not going to cry, not in front of him. “You’re leaving me again, Kento.” You shook your head, running your hand down your face with a pained laugh. “Oh my god, I’m such an idiot.” Without another word, you stormed out of the lounge room, your heart breaking with every step you took.

It felt like the walls around you were closing in on you. Your chest felt tight as you took deep, ragged breaths, trying to calm yourself down, as tears finally breached the wall you had put up around yourself. The instant those tears ran down your cheeks, your momentum faltered, the stride you had crashing down. You fell to your knees, gripping at your chest as the future you pictured with Nanami slipped away like a film strip burning after too much use.

He always thought about leaving, building a house on the beach somewhere. It was never about the two of you leaving together. Never ‘we’re’ going to build a house. ‘We’re’ going to live in Malaysia. It was always him. And you thought since you both matured, things would be different; maybe since you were sleeping together and you were supposedly in love, he would take you with him next time. Of course, that was a moronic and naïve thought.

You were losing him all over again.

When you finally came to your senses, you hurried back to your apartment. You tried making dinner, watching a movie, doing anything to distract yourself from the pain that had settled in your heart. But anytime a second passed when you weren't busy, moving, or thinking, Nanami’s words whispered in the depths of your mind.

How could he just up and leave you like this again?! It hurt so bad; it was almost soul-crushing. After all the plans you had made, like getting married when you retired, and the places you'd see. All those plans were suddenly garbage because he could finally live out his dreams. Dreams that you should be happy about! You didn’t want your boyfriend to continue to suffer in a job he disliked, constantly working overtime, wasting his life away.

What hurt the most was that he didn't even ask if you wanted to come with him!

The hurt slowly turned into rage, so hot and heavy that you didn't hear the door to the apartment creak open. Nor did you hear said boyfriend's keys dropping into the bowl on the entry table. You did, however, feel his hand gently grabbing your shoulders. To which you pulled away.

“Don't fucking touch me!” You barked out, whirling around, jabbing your finger into his chest. “I don't fucking want you touching me!”

Nanami winced at the pain in your voice, hurrying after you as you stormed towards the bedroom. “Love, please stop.” Nothing was said as you threw the covers back on your bed. “Please let me talk to you. Let's have an actual conversation like adults instead of children!” Frustration and anger were evident in his voice, emotions that only seemed to fan the flames of your anger.

“Are you insinuating that I—” you pointed to yourself, “am acting like a child?”

“When you refuse to speak to me, yes.” you laugh. It's cold and void of joy as you place your hands on your hips.

“You wanna talk?! Fine, let’s fuckin’ talk!” You toss the throw pillows to the ground with an anger that could fuel a bonfire. “I cannot believe you’re leaving me again!”

Nanami’s honey-brown eyes followed each pillow that slammed into the ground with a force that made him cringe. “Who said I was leaving you?” He cocked a brow in your direction as you crawled into bed, fluffing your pillows.

“You said ‘you’ were leaving for Malaysia, that ‘you’ we’re going to build ‘your’ house on the beach. So excuse me, you made it very clear that you are leaving.”

“I am—” You open your mouth to tell him you were right that you knew that already, but he held a hand up in front of him, ceasing your interjection. “But I want you to come with me.”

“Oh, please don’t treat me like I’m some item you forgot to pack! You told me it was your house, books, everything!”

Without so much as a word, your boyfriend stalked over to the bed, reaching into the suit jacket. You watched with rage-filled eyes as he handed you an envelope. Nanami didn’t say where you snatched the envelope out of his hands. Opening it up, you found two one-way tickets to Malaysia. One had your boyfriend‘s name on it, while the other had yours.

You found yourself staring at the tickets as if you stared long enough; you would somehow get the answers to the questions running through your head. It isn’t until the bed dips under Nanami’s weight that you finally look up at him. His eyes held no malice or anger; they drifted from the envelope before slowly meeting your confused gaze.

“I could have started the conversation out better. But you ran off before I could finish.” He took your hand in his, thumb gently stroking the side of your thumb. “Yes, I bought a property out in Malaysia. I plan on building a house on the beach, filling it with all the books I haven’t read.” He squeezed your hand. “But that house will never be a home without you in it. I want you to come with me; I promise I will take such good care of you.”

“Y-You want me to come with you?”

“Of course I do; I left you once, and that almost ruined us completely. Do you honestly think I would ever put us at risk like that again?” Big tears welled over your eyes, streaming down your cheeks. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you; please come with me.”

Nanami’s thumb gently brushed your tears away. His smile was gentle and warm, and you hiccuped, nodding your head in agreement. “Y-Yes, Kento, I would love to go with you!” He grinned, excitement in every part of his features, as he pulled you and kissed you deeply.

It was the kind of kiss that lasted a lifetime, conveying how sorry you were for the misunderstanding. A kiss that had started very soft and sweet before it turned into something more desperate and hungry. A kiss that had you shoving your boyfriend back against the bed.

“What are you doing?” Nanami asked with curious eyes as you unbuckled his belt.

“Shh, relax.”

Nanami had been confused at first, but all his questions were answered several minutes later as you bobbed up and down his thick girthy cock. His hand fisted your hair as he watched as tears pricked your eyes as you struggled to take more of him into your mouth. Each time you went down, he felt his tip hit the back of your throat, which in turn made you gag, coating his cock in more of a slick combination of your saliva and his pre-cum.

You were so beautiful, stunning, sucking his cock down eagerly. You gag, eyes flooding with tears as he looks down at you, grunting as his eyes shut. His hand gently strokes your hair, collecting it in a makeshift ponytail. You hummed happily, looking into his narrow eyes before he shoved you down until your nose brushed over his trimmed pubes.

“Look at my lover~ such a good girl making me feel good.” He shivers as you moan around him. “Fuck darling, yes~ just like that~ swallow my cock like a good girl.” He sighs out, his hips gently bucking up into your mouth. “Soo good~ all because I’m taking her to Malaysia where she won’t have to worry about working again.” There was something in his words that had you shuddering as you dipped your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit through your shorts. “Ooh? Do you like the idea of me taking care of you? Spoiling you rotten for all time?” The only response Nanami gets in return from you is the way you eagerly swirl your tongue around his cock. “Ahh, atta girl~ using her tongue to tell me.”

You planned to show him how much you appreciated him in many more ways. For now, this would do. Nanami held a firm grip on your hair as you bobbed faster, your hands reaching down, cupping his balls, squeezing them tight. Your sweet, considerate moans had him groaning into his hand, head falling back as you deep throat him. Making sure he knew how much you loved him, how much you appreciated him spoiling you and making sure neither of you had to deal with the mundane lives of the working force.

“Haaah yes~ fuck suck it~”

His dirty words have you rubbing yourself harder as you do as he commands. “mhmm!”

“That’s it~ good girl fuck are you gonna swallow it? Swallow all of my seed down your throat?”

You take more of him down your throat than you do. “Nngh!” Nanami chuckles, wrapping his hand around your hair as if it were his tie, forcing you down before yanking you back up and pushing you down again.

“Good girl, be sure to swallow every drop, and I’ll reward you.”

He’s thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth face fucking you as hard as he possibly can. You do your best to relax your throat, but drool seeps out the corners of your mouth, running down your chin. As Nanami focuses his attention on the tears that prick your eyes, you struggle to take him down further. It’s the struggling, effort, and the way you’re gagging and moaning around his thick, hard cock that in him tumbling over the edge of sweet release.

“Nngh fuck~! Fuuuck yes, swallow, swallow every last drop of it, and don’t let it spill out.” Your boyfriend growls as he continues, holding your head in place as he continues fucking into your mouth. “Yes~! Yes fuck!”

His cum is thick and hot, slowly sliding down your throat as you stare up at him. Admiring the flush that dances over his cheeks up to the tip of his ears. His face is scrunched up with pleasure as the waves of pleasure roll through him, leaving you wet and ready. Your clit twitched under your finger pads as Nanami pulled you off of his cock. You waited for him to lift you by your hair, bringing you close to his face. What you hadn’t been anticipating was for him to shove you down against the floor while he did his tie, letting it hang loosely around his neck.

“K-Kento—ooh!” You yelp as he forces your legs apart with both his hands, spreading them wide for him. “Whoa! Holy shit!”

“I’m going to make up for upsetting you.” He whispered, grabbing your shorts, yanking them down your legs, and throwing them behind him. “By making you squirt on my tongue.”

As Nanami trailed kisses up your thighs, you shuddered against the cool wooden floor, imagining if this was the same way he’d spoiled you when you were in Malaysia; instead of being on the floor, he would be on the sand at the beach. Maybe some fights and misunderstandings were worth having. You screamed out as Nanami took your clit into his mouth, sucking on it gently. Fuck, some fights were totally worth having!!

Geto Suguru:

“Suguru—” you whisper as your boyfriend grabs his bags, not stopping to look over his shoulder at you. “Do you have to take this mission?”

The dark-haired man taps his thumb against the center of his forehead. “Yes, everyone else is on their missions. I have to do this.” He slips on his shoes, and you can’t help but feel another part of him slip away with the action.

It has been a year since the Plasma Star Vessel, Amanai Riko, was killed and a year that your boyfriend has been suffering. He wouldn’t admit it, but you could see how he changed. He had lost weight, dark circles permanently resided under his eyes, and he had grown distant from you and your friends. Everyone had been worried, asking if he was okay, but he blamed it on the heat in the missions he was constantly sent on.

But you knew he wasn’t. He hadn’t been okay since Riko died. If he would talk to you and stop pushing you away, you might be able to help him.

“I could go with you.” You suggested, slipping on your sandals and following him out the door of the dorms. “My curse technique could be helpful.”

“It can, but this is a simple mission out in the countryside. You know the curses out there are weaker than those in the city. I’ll be back in no time, I promise.”

You want to scream and shout at him to beg him to talk to you. “I could help—”

“I just said it’s a quick miss—”

“I’m not talking about the mission, Suguru.” he stops, looking back at you from over his shoulder. “I can help you with whatever you’re going through. If you stop and talk to me, I’ll listen to you vent, scream, and curse the world. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on, Sugu.”

Cicadas buzz in the distance as your boyfriend stares at you with no words leaving his mouth. At this point, you’re fuming with anxiety, frustration, and anger over the silent treatment and him pushing you away. How would you help your boyfriend if you refused to talk to you? He didn’t want to talk to you or anyone else. If he didn't talk about it soon, the pain he had been bottling down for the last year was going to burst sooner or later.

You had hoped that your words might act as a voice of reason and that maybe speaking the truth would finally break him out of the stupor he found himself in. Your hopes didn’t have a chance to kindle, however, because all he did was sigh, turning his back on you with a shake of his head. That casual brushing off made your worry melt into rage. You stormed down the stairs, rushing after him to stand in his way, arm stretched out in front of you, preventing him from moving further.

“Talk to me!”

“I don’t want to!”

“Why the fuck not?!”

“Because you weren’t there! You don’t know what we went through. You wouldn't understand; you're just some girl I date. You have no clue how hard it was being one of the strongest.”

His words hurt, knocking you back a step. “What—?” Suguru shoved past you, storming down the steps. “What the fuck is your problem?!” Screamed, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I’m not just some girl! I'm your girlfriend! I am not someone you can talk to like that you can’t—”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” darkness flooded his eyes as he snapped his attention towards you. “Do you fucking understand me?” You were too stunned to speak. “Fucking drop it before I drop you.”

“Maybe I should be the one to break up with you then. If you don’t wanna talk to me, then I don’t see a reason for us continuing this relationship.”

Blurred your eyes as you looked over your shoulder, watching your boyfriend freeze his back and turn to you for a second. Instead of turning around to talk to you, he kept heading down the steps towards the car waiting for him. That was all the answer you needed from him. When he returns from his mission, you will give him all his stuff back since your relationship is over.

You had so much planned on what you wanted to say to him when you handed him all his shit when he got back to the school. You refused to keep fighting for a relationship that was as good as dead. Suguru needed to work through his issues, and maybe once he was feeling more like himself, you might consider talking to him, let alone working.

Those words and thoughts were titanium. Your resolve was set in stone, and you wouldn’t let him convince you that he was fine otherwise. He needed to heal to talk to someone. It broke your heart, but you weren’t the person he needed.

Saying all that, keeping true to your word was much easier said than done.

The resolve you claimed was stronger than titanium snapped like a twig when a call at two in the morning had you jumping out of bed. Suguru’s name flashed on your screen, and you forgot about the fight and the drama, answering your cell as fast as your hands would allow.

“Suguru?” You yelled, jumping to your feet. “Are you okay?”

The other line was silent before your boyfriend sighed. “I wanna talk.” You were slipping your shoes, nodding your head as he could see. “But I’m going to send you an address. Meet me there. Just don’t tell anyone where you’re going.” The fact he didn’t want anyone else coming with you didn’t bother you.

You stepped inside the hotel room Sugurh had messaged you about, and as you did, the scent of blood and smoke flooded your senses, making you question his reason for you coming alone. Glancing around the dark room, you found him crouching beside a bed where two little girls lay. They were bruised and bandaged up, holding each other’s hands as they peacefully slept. Your boyfriend watched them silently, his shirt splattered with the blood that still lingered on him before his eyes finally looked towards you.

“Suguru—what happened?”

“I’m going to remake the world.”

“Huh?” You step further inside the hotel room, approaching him cautiously. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to kill the non-sorcerer and remake this world into a better one.”

You laughed softly, thinking that maybe he was just fucking with you. But the way his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched, you knew otherwise. Your boyfriend was serious, deadly serious. It didn’t make any sense. This was your boyfriend, who saw it as Jujutsu Sorcerer's duty to protect non-sorcerers. This new ideal had to be one of the reasons he had been so standoffish with everyone.

Instead of scolding or yelling at him, you sat down on the bed adjacent to the young girls, observing your bloodstained boyfriend. He had done the one thing you asked him to do, and that was for him to talk to you. You gently padded the spot on the bed next to him with a gentle smile.

Suguru opened up to you about everything. Riko’s death, the clapping from the religious group members he was constantly hearing, and the discussion he had with Tsukumo Yuki. For the first time in months, you felt like you were finally listening to your boyfriend talk. Part of you felt relieved, but something else began to take a route in your stomach as he told you about Nanako and Mimiko. He had slaughtered an entire village, an action he stood by and one he did not regret.

“I’ll be banned from Jujutsu Society and given a death sentence. But I don’t regret what I did.” Suguru’s eyes were glued to the floor, hands in his lap. “But you deserve to know what I did. What I plan on doing, I will remake this world, ridding it of non-sorcerer, those useless damn monkeys.”

He wasn’t sure how you would react. He expected you to shout, yell, and look at him in utter disgust. Yet what you did left him stunned as you reached across his lap and took his hand in yours. Suguru watched as your clean fingers intertwined with his, giving it a gentle squeeze, trying draw his attention towards you.

“We’ll remake the world.” His eyes went wide as he sat up back stiff as a board as the light returned to his eyes. “I’m coming with you.”

“What? Why would you willingly say yes? I killed people. You understand that. I killed a lot of people, and I’m going to have to kill more.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“Because you have a point. I see the world you want to create, and I want to help you.” You turned your body to him, wiping dried blood on his cheek. “Because I love you.”

The icy wall that had formed between you both melted. Suguru grabbed you by the face, kissing you deeply. He snarled and growled into your mouth, pulling you to your feet and dragging you into the bathroom. His lips only left yours to remove your clothes. Start the shower and shut the door. Once he got his hands, mouth, his entire body pressed against yours, you didn’t stand.

Suguru had you pinned into the shower floor with your hands pinned above your head as he wrapped your legs around his waist. His hips furiously bucked into yours as his lips smashed and moved against your own, his teeth nipping and sucking at your lips, pulling it back before releasing it, drawing blood. He needed you with a deep, crazed passion. His cocks slammed in and out of your pussy. The lack of prep on both your parts had your walls stinging with each hard thrust into you.

“Haah! Fuck! Oooh fuck!!”

“You’re mine~! You’re fucking mine, and we could’ve remake this fucking world. You could stay by my side. You’re never gonna fucking leave me.”

His teeth finally gave up their ass assault on your lips, moving to attack your neck instead. “Nngh! Fuck! Suguru!” He growled, his ass clenching with each deep thrust into you, the curve of his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly, guttural moans from you.

“Fuuck, that’s right. Say my name. I missed hearing you say my name.”

“Suguru.”

“Yes—fuck what does my princess need?”

“W-Wanna touch you! Please, Sugu!”

You didn’t even need to beg; Suguru let go of your wrists, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, digging your nails into his back, scratching down his toned muscles. Your boyfriend hissed at the sting pain, but he returned the favor, digging his finger into your hips, grabbing you roughly fucking into you with the same momentum, making sure not only you would have bruises on your skin, but your poor pussy would be bruised as well. He wasn’t just leaving his mark on the world but also his pretty princess.

His dark, wet, damp hair fell over his shoulder as he slammed into you with one hand, reaching up to cut the back of your head, cradling it gently as he slammed into you with all of his strength. He was making up for the months that you hadn’t been intimate. He was ensuring that you knew how excited he was to have you on his side and to have you see the world as he saw it.

He fucking loved you.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna cum; I’m gonna cum inside your pussy.” His into your ear, feeling the way you clamp down around him, his vulgar words. “Yeah, does my princess like that?”

“Yes!”

“The beg for it, beg me to cum in that tight little cunt.”

Your nails dug harder into his skin as you felt his cock twitching inside of you. “Please, please cum inside of me, Suguru! I need it! I want it so fucking bad!” His thrusting, the words he said, and the way he kept rubbing the head of his cock against your spot have your leg shaking body arching off the shower floor. “Oo-ooh! Fuck! I’m cumming! Cumming!!” You screamed as your walls convulsed around his cock, drawing out a deep moan from Suguru.

“Take it! Take it, baby~! Fuuuck~! Yes, cum on my cock~ cum for me, princess cum!”

The warmth of his cum filling you grinned as you happily peppered his neck with kisses. God, you missed this; you missed him. Once his thrust came to a stop, you hummed, kissing down his neck yourself. He smiled, chuckling weakly against your soft skin.

“Fuck,”

“Yeah, fuck.” You purred, holding him tight as his cock twitched inside of you. “I needed that so bad.”

As you both lay on the shower floor, Suguru held you tight. You rubbed your hands up and down his biceps, fingers trailing over his chest. As he watched your hands slowly move over his body, he realized how lucky he was to have you. You were throwing away your comfortable, stable life for him, leaving the world you knew behind to become a curse user who would help him obtain his goals. You were too good for him.

“God,” he whispered, pulling you up to his mouth, pressing his lips against yours in a heated kiss. “I can’t wait to rule the world with you.”

Gojo Satoru:

You loved your boyfriend. Gojo was an amazing partner and friend. But dating the strongest sorcerer of the modern age came with its downside. Satoru was consistently being the mission he was consistently sent on. You were supportive and always willing to wait for him. You stayed up late to talk to him when he was in different time zones. You made him his favorite meal when he got home.

You even understood when he would come home that he was tired and just wanted time to himself, like sleeping or snuggling you in the silence of his condo. You loved waiting at home for him, eager to help him relax and take some of the stress off of him whenever you could.

That was the usual routine until he started going out with his friends instead of you. He would often say he needed to go to a new cafe and get himself a sweet treat; it was like a reward to himself. Which you didn’t mind; in fact, you encouraged it! If Satoru wanted to go out, he could. You weren’t the type of girl to be all controlling or suspicious of his actions. At the end of the day, as long as he came home to you, you didn’t mind when he did. You were happy as long as he was getting the stress relief he needed.

And he needed that kind of stress relief with the higher-ups making him work as much as they were. It felt like every other weekend, he was getting sent on missions, which was strange because it was summertime. There shouldn’t have been as many curses since it was the slow season for you guys. You didn’t question it at all. Instead, you continued to offer to be there to support him if he needed you.

Until you caught him.

It was supposed to be a girl's night; you, Utahime, and Shoko went to the local bar to enjoy a few cocktails and vent about your day. When you walked in, you sat in your booth, sipping on your Sex on the Beach, while Shoko sighed, finishing her fifth shot of whiskey. Her eyes kept dying behind you before I glanced at the table, running her long-painted nail over the rim of the glass.

“So, where did they ship Satoru off to this time?” She asked, smiling as the waiter brought her another drink.

“Mhm,” you swallowed the drink in your mouth, “Ireland, something about some castle curse or something. I don’t know. It seems like there’s been a lot of activity, which is weird.”

“Ireland, huh?” Shoko sighed, taking another peak over your shoulder. “Bastard didn’t even bring back souvenir for me. You would think he would bring me back some Irish whiskey.”

“Well, he might; he should be back tomorrow night.” Your friends' reactions mirrored each other. It was a look that spoke volumes, one that had your stomach unsettled. “What? Why are you guys looking at each other like that?”

“Gojo is still in Ireland?”

“Yeah—?”

Shoko sucked down a breath rubbing at the back of her neck, before pulling out her cigarette box. “Well, don’t look now, but I think your boyfriend got back sooner than you thought.” She points behind you with her cigarette.

Turning your head, your eyes go wide, finding your boyfriend sitting in a booth with his closest friends. In Tokyo, and not in Ireland like he had told you an hour beforehand. You felt like the room was spinning, and it wasn’t because of the small amount of alcohol you had drank. No, it was because of the carefree look on his face as he smacked Geto on his back before downing his cola.

Your body moved before you could even think. Rushing forward, pushed past strangers, hurrying towards your boyfriend, who hadn’t even noticed you running towards him. His friends, however, did notice. Geto smiled as he waved at you, Nanami nodded his head in acknowledgment, and Haibara leaned his head back against the booth, turning his head just as you slammed your hands down on the table.

“Oh, hi! How are you doing tonight?” Haibara cheerfully greeted, sitting up straight, eyes sparkling. “I thought Gojo said you were out on a mission.”

Upon hearing his name brought into the conversation, your boyfriend turned his attention towards you before spurting out the cola he had been drinking, the liquid coming out his mouth, and he coughed harshly into his fist. You felt sick to your stomach, and your chest felt tight. Why would he lie about being home?

“Funny, he said the same thing about himself.”

“Sweetie, I uhm—“

“How was Ireland?” You questioned, tilting your head and crossing your arms over your chest.

Suguru cocked a pierced brow, his dark eyes darting towards his best friend, who looked like he was about ready to shit bricks. “Ireland? I thought you said that’s where she was at?” All eyes seem to focus on your white-haired boyfriend as the back of your throat burns with unshed tears.

“So I guess it’s at least good to know. I’m not the only one you’re lying to.” You rolled your eyes, storming out of the bar and snatching your purse from Shoko, who was watching. “Bye.”

“Sweetie! Honey, wait!”

“No! I have nothing to say to you right now that would be remotely good!” You yelled back at him, listening to his footsteps over the sticky bar floor. “So please leave me alone.”

“Baby!” His slender fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. “Listen! I—fuck, I’m sorry!”

“Sorry for what you did, or sorry you got caught in a lie? One that you apparently had told several different people.”

There was nothing he glanced aside from instead of staring at the floor. “I’ve just been overwhelmed with work and didn’t want to come home.” The tone in his voice is almost comical.

“Okay? When have I ever had an issue with you going out? You could’ve just told me the truth instead of lying.”

“I just felt like I’ve been neglecting your needs, but I feel like I’m not in a position to be there for you in the way you need.”

For a second, your boyfriend thinks you might stop to give him the time to listen to what he has to say. Instead, you yank your arm out of his grip, letting it limply fall to your side. Gojo can see the pain in your eyes. Pain that he wanted to avoid putting on you, but instead, he’s pretty sure he had caused more pain.

“So you lied about being on a work trip?” He says nothing. “Good to know you feel that way.”

You start heading back out to get an Uber, but Satoru is right behind you. “Baby please, I just, I feel so tired all the time. I just need to unwind.” You turn back around, shooting daggers up at him.

“Fucking unwind! Do whatever you want! I don’t give a fuck!”

“Then why are you so upset?”

“Because you fucking lied to me!” You screamed, causing him to wince through his teeth. “You called me today and told me you were in Ireland! When you could have told me, ‘Hey babe, I’m going out with the guys,’ instead, you fucking lied to me!”

Satoru frowned, not knowing what to say in a situation like this. A problem that he had created himself. One that could’ve easily been avoided if he had told you the truth. So, instead of saying anything, he just dropped his head down in shame.

You fought against the urge to somehow break through his infinity and slap the shit out of him. But since that was impossible, he watched as you wiped the welling tears from your eyes with a shaky sigh. With a swallow and a deep breath, you turned away from him, heading to the car that pulled up to the curb for you.

“W-Wait, where are you going?!”

“Home.”

Without so much is another word, you got in the car, and your boyfriend watched as it drove off down the street. He had messed up royally this time. So much so he wouldn’t be surprised if you were to break up with him at this point. Gojo had been so stressed, and he didn’t want you going above and beyond to take care of him when you were just as stressed as he was. he saw how you acted. You made it a point to cook his favorite meals to buying him his favorite sweets, when you had the same dark circles under your eyes from your hard work being a sorcerer.

You seemed to enjoy helping him out like that. Like it was a highlight of your life. So, instead of sitting down and talking to you like a normal person, he decided to go out with his friends. Giving yourself time to hang out with your friends, read a book or catch up on some well-deserved rest. He should’ve just talked to you about this but didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

But in trying to protect your feelings, he had hurt you even more. He couldn’t just idly stand and let this be the end of the conversation. He needed to talk to you and tell you how sorry he was in person.

When you got home, you could smell Gojo in the apartment. You weren’t expecting to smell his cologne, seeing that you had left him twenty minutes prior at the bar, but the asshole was able to teleport himself wherever he wanted. So much is saying a word. You threw your purse on the entryway table before storming towards the bedroom, where, low and behold, he was waiting for you.

He sat on the edge of the bed, cerulean eyes snapping towards the door as you walked in. “Sweetie.” He hesitantly spoke, hurrying after you as you headed into the bathroom. “Look, can we talk?”

“About what? Your next mission: what are you going to China or something? Or is it just another excuse for you to hang out with your friends?”

You were pissed. This would be one of those moments you held over his head for all time. “Look, I fucked up, big time.” You laughed, glancing at him in the mirror as you took your shirt off. “Okay, majorly fucked up, I should’ve talked to you, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” The cold, dark stare you gave him in the mirror told him that your feelings were already hurt, and his reasoning was stupid to bring up at this point. “Will you please just listen for a second? Let me apologize properly.”

While the idea of fumigating in your anger was tempting, you knew if you didn’t give him the opportunity to, he wouldn’t get off your ass for the rest of the night. Shaking your head, you turned to face him as you leaned against the glass door of the walk-in shower. A certain relief settled inside Gojo’s chest as he stepped closer towards you.

“I’m sorry for lying. I should’ve been honest with you. But you always get so excited taking care of me when I get home that I didn’t wanna hurt your feelings.” The pinch of your brows softened as he spoke. “You spoil me fucking rotten. I honestly don’t deserve someone as good as you. I’m an egotistical, arrogant, pompous asshole, and you were too good for me. Even though I can see how tired you are, you always make an appointment to put me first.”

“Toru—”

“So I decided to take a step back and relieve some of my stress by hanging out with the guys. Lately, you’ve been so rundown. So I’ve told you I was going to Ireland so you could have a night to yourself. You have to worry about dinner or taking care of or making me feel good when you should be taking care of yourself as well as you take care of me. Fuck I should be taking care of you. But I’m just so fucking tired. I don’t have the energy to do that, and unfortunately, I’ve neglected you and your needs.”

“No—Toru, I see where you’re coming from, and it’s alright.”

“No, it’s not alright. Nothing about this is alright. I should’ve talked to you instead of lying to you, and I fucked up.” He hesitantly reached out, grabbing your hand and squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry I lied. I should’ve told you the truth.”

You were still angry over him lying to you. he could’ve been more of an adult and told you what he felt. But simultaneously, you could see where he was coming from. You had been putting a lot of effort into taking care of him and thus neglecting your own needs. He was right; you were as tired as he was. Not only did you have your own missions to go on, but on top of taking care of the condo and trying to make him feel comfortable, you hadn’t put time away for yourself. In his reasoning, he was trying to take care of you like you had taken care of him.

You allowed him to take your hand, squeezing his fingers back. “I swear to God if you lie to me like this ever again, and I catch you at the bar with your friends when you’re supposed to be in Ireland, I will kick your ass all the way there myself, Gojo Satoru.” he wins at the use of his full name, but your boyfriend pulls your hand tugging you into his chest.

“Noted, I promise I won’t ever do that shit again. I’m really sorry, baby.”

“It’s fine. We both got overwhelmed and instead of communicating, we just ignored it. Next time, I think we can do better as a couple. That way, this sort of shit doesn’t happen again.”

Gojo nods before he presses his chin against the top of your head, wrapping his long, lanky arms around you. “Right, I can do that.” You into his chest, sighing happily. “Is it too late to start communicating our feelings now?” You giggle, you’re almost bare chest rumbling against him.

“Depends on what exactly you want to talk about.”

Gojo pulls his chin off your head before grabbing your face in his hand. He lifts your head, forcing you to look at his beautiful, stunning eyes. “I don’t really wanna talk. I want to feel. I want to make you feel good. If you’re not too angry with me.” You slowly run your hands up his chest, smiling lovingly at him.

“I can’t say no to you.”

One steamy make-out session later ended with you both pressing each other against the walls in the bathroom; Gojo had you pressed against a wall, wrapping you up in his arms and holding you in his chest. "I missed you so much, sweetheart. So fucking much." The hot, steamy water from the running shower made the bathroom hot. He kissed you gently.

“I missed you too, Toru.” You whispered against his lips with a giggle as you brushed some of his hair out of his eyes.

His hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your soft skin. "Can I kiss you again?" Instead of answering his question, you close the distance between your lips, kissing him deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him closer. Satoru grunted, leaning forward and slamming his hands against the glass door to the shower. “Fuuck missed you, baby.” He slowly pressed his lips to yours, holding his breath momentarily as he just kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

“Mhmm Satoru~”

He pulled away after a moment, his hands still holding your face. "God— Fuck, I missed hearing you sent my name like that." He held you tight, pressing your head to his chest as he slowly dried his fingers down your back.

“I’ve missed saying it,” you pressed gentle kisses up his chest, flicking your tongue over his nipple. “But I missed moaning it more.”

"Oh, you have?" He felt his heart and cock flutter at that, smiling softly.

“Ooh yeah, I’ve missed your cock.”

Gojo cocked an eyebrow with a smirk. "Well, I guess we have something. We have to do something about that then?~" He pulled you tighter against his body, his hardening cock rubbing against your bare hip. "I missed that amazing pussy, too~."

You whined, looking up at him. "I want you now, Toru." You whispered as you wrapped your hand around his cock, gently stroking him with a twisting motion.

“Oooh fuck baby.” His eyes slowly shut, his cock immediately completely hard. "Yeah does my sweet little girl need her Daddy’s cock?" He groaned softly, still holding you close against his bare ivory skin.

“Yeah~ I need it fuckin’ bad.”

Satoru bit his lip, his cock twitching in your hand. "Fucking okay, sweetie, I’ll give it to you.” He groaned, lifting you, pressing you against the glass wall of the shower. "God, I can't fucking resist you."

"Ah~!" You gasped out, your eyes glossy with need. "Fuck, please." You’d had sex against walls before, but this was needier, and fuck, it made you wet. "Fuck me, Toru~ fuck me until I squirt on your fat cock."

Just hearing you say those things made him shiver, leaning into you, kissing you deeply. "Of course, sweets~" He groaned as he held his hand up to you. “Spit.” You followed his instructions, spitting into his hand. He moaned as he rubbed it on his cock in place of lube. Once his cock was slick, he held you up by your waist and slowly lowered her down onto his aching length.

"Fuck!" You cried out, your eyes rolling back. "Oh god, y-you're so fucking big." Your whimpers grew louder as he stretched you out with his thick cock. "Fuck me, Toru!"

“Ahh fuck—“ Satoru let out a small growl, his left arm holding your waist and his right hand moving up to toy with your clit. "That’s right, sweetie, moan for me. Let’s get another fucking noise complaint from our neighbors ~" He pistoned his hips He pistoned his hips into you, thrusting fast and hard, chasing his already-building orgasm.

He glanced up, watching your eyes roll back, your hands gripping his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin. Loud sounds escaped your mouth as you looked into his eyes, dilated with pure animalistic need. He leaned in, kissing you deeply, swallowing your moans he fucked into you.

"Fuck, you're so damn pretty, Sweetheart~" He groaned, wet slapping sounds reverberating off the walls with every thrust. " O-Oh god, I'm—not going to last long. I've been so pent up!”

You weren’t in much of a better position than him feeling him, slamming into his curved cock, hitting every special spot inside of you. At the same time, his right hand played with your clit and had you on the edge so ridiculously fast you’re pretty sure he was about to world record. Satoru watched as your eyebrows knitted together as you stared into his eyes. There was a desperation in your beautiful eyes as you cried out his name, telling him you were close.

“G-Gonna cum Toru~! Gonna cum!”

At least you were able to form coherent words. Feeling your walls flutter and hearing the sweet sound that left your lips made Satoru’s hips stutter, and he moved, slamming his lips to yours as he gripped your hips, shoving you down all the way on his cock as he groaned, releasing his cum into you. Feeling his warm seed fill you sent you right over the edge with him, making you tilt your head back as sweet moans of his name left your lips.

“Missed you.” That was the only thing your boyfriend said before pressing a kiss to your lips again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Toru.”

“I’ll never lie to you again.”

“Thank you—Ah!” You squealed as he opened the shower door, stepping inside with you. “Toru!”

“So when I tell you we’re going eight rounds tonight, you better fuckin’ believe it’s happening.” Gojo would show you just how sorry he was for hurting you. Even if that meant you were hurting from all the sex you were about to have the next day.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

[we-stan-cale]

I want to hear about your favorite moments in TCF.

I have a long list, but I'll start with one that I don't hear people talk about much - Cale's conversation with Lock and Raon the night before the battle at the gorge.

First, I absolutely love how Cale handled Lock here. Lock is feeling like a failure, guilty, a coward - a whole bunch of negative things because he's no longer able to use his berserk transformation, and he thinks it's because he's afraid.

Cale - acts normal. It's hard to describe what that means, or why it matters. He just doesn't make a big deal out of it. Not like he's dismissing Lock's fears, but also not like he thinks Lock needs to be reassured.

This is right after Lock told Cale he couldn't go berserk. Rosalyn is also there, and the 'she' it starts with.

She heard a quiet voice at that moment. Pat. “Why is a young boy like you so skinny?” Rosalyn could see Cale pat Lock on the back before heading toward the tent entrance. Cale opened up the flap in order to exit as he looked toward Lock. “Let’s go.”

Cale just... Doesn't respond to the fear, but does show care and concern. And just treats Lock like normal (except in this case that's not really normal).

He then basically gets Lock to focus on the here and now, so Lock won't go into that headspace where he keeps feeling like he's a failure. He's preventing Lock from spiraling as he keeps thinking about what a failure he is.

Cale started to speak as soon as the young boy stopped right in front of him. “Focus on my back. Follow behind me and don’t think about anything else.”

And then he invites Lock to dinner. Just Lock, Raon, and Cale. Cale lets Lock talk, and then said something I absolutely love:

Lock’s mumblings stopped as soon as Cale asked a question. “Would you throw me away if I was weak?” “What-” Something like that was unbelievable. Lock throw Cale away? Lock’s eyes opened wide in shock as Cale smiled back at him. “Lock, you wouldn’t, right?” Cale picked his fork back up. “So, don’t ask something so obvious. Just eat.”

I love my progression fantasy, but the protagonists in those stories almost always have the same solution for every problem - get stronger.

To hear the protagonist say something like this is just so refreshing. Like - your worth is not tied up with being strong. You are a worthwhile person even if you can't destroy a wall with one punch. You wouldn't throw away someone else just because they were weak, so why are you being so hard on yourself?

And Raon hearing this leads into the final part, the conversation they have as they prepare for bed.

“By the way, human.” “What is it?” Cale made eye contact with the six-years-old Dragon who stopped connecting the device and looked toward him. Raon looked at Cale and asked. “I cannot go through my first growth phase. Is that okay?” ...

“Didn’t I answer that last time? Don’t ask me something so obvious.” “…Is it okay if I am weak?”

...

“Raon, although I am weaker than you, I’ve lived at least thirty, no, fifteen years more than you. But I am still weaker than you. I am not even as strong as you front paw. Is that a problem?” Cale realized his mistake and quickly changed the years before looking at Raon. “It is not a problem at all.”

There's more, but I've already copied enough so if you want to read the rest you should just go check that chapter out.

The thing here is that Raon, who was supposed to go through his first growth phase, couldn't. It now looks like he was afraid of how weak and vulnerable he would be during that.

And Cale, dense though he can be, perfectly reassures Raon.

Now if only that lovely, dense and yet wise man could treat himself with a fraction of the consideration he shows everyone else.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 80)

The first step in a long list was to set up a lab outside the bunker. N and V helping to move debris and burned out vehicles from the area right outside. And a small team of workers setting up temporary shelters to work in and hooking it up to the main power grid.

Uzi did her part, standing over a map with the locations of each landing pod, there were around ten of them within salvaging range, in various conditions ranging from utterly destroyed to lightly damaged.

“We'll start with the pod in the corpse spire. It's the most intact, since I've already attempted some repairs.” The building she was standing in was made from thin scrap metal, welded together hastily to serve as a planning room. Tera was sitting on the edge of the table, eyes darting to the 20 or so people huddled around her mother and the map.

It had only taken exactly 24 hours for them to set up this rudimentary workshop, she hadn't been joking when she'd said workers were incredibly efficient in large groups.

Even so, the inside of the building was still drafty, and some snow still found it's way inside. It didn't matter, it still served it's purpose well enough.

“We still have that big ass fork lift?” She asked into the room, and a drone behind her with white eyelights gave her a curt nod.

“Good, we'll need it to move the pod.” She circled the closest pod on the map- the corpse spire. Eyes a certain degree of determined as she sighed.

She was working with Khan’s team of engineers, the ones most experienced with doing something this large or complex. Even so, she still felt weird being the one basically in charge.

“Right, need to get that lift out here, then we'll head out to recover the pod.” At that, several people left; presumably to make good on that request. While a few more fluttered around the planning room, sealing up holes in the thin walls or writing on notebooks.

She wasn't used to giving orders, and she certainly wasn't used to people following them without much question. This was her plan, and she was really the best drone to see it through due to her previous work on the pod, but that didn't mean she wasn't incredibly nervous about leading a team. She'd only ever worked by herself.

A small knock on the empty doorframe caught her attention and she looked back, finding N hovering there, covered in a dusting of rust and a thin veneer of old motor oil.

“All the cars are moved. V said she was going to do a sweep to make sure the perimeter is secure. Need anything?” He smiled tiredly, though it was significantly less full of poorly hidden dread. With a job to do and a plan made, there was definitely more hope behind his visor.

“Nothing other then more sleep.” She replied bitterly, though her ire more directed towards the situation then him. She felt his radiating heat come closer and she had to fight against the urge to lean back into him and curl up into it.

“You sure? What about a break? You've been up on your feet for hours.” His tone grew more soft, and it now drew the attention of a couple of her team members from their tasks, they very unsubtlely tried to hide either behind a notebook or another task, but she could see the soft smiles and knowing looks.

“I'm fine, I'll take a break when we get the first pod in…” She waved him off, not wanting to be soft in front of her team. She'd already exposed herself once, live on stage. That wasn't about to happen again.

“Uzi that could take all night, plus, it's going to be sunrise soon, we can't be out here.” She blinked, oh yeah, she hadn't thought of that, her N and V were limited to nighttime hours, it was lucky that nights on Copper-9 were rather long, but it still put a crunch on things.

“Sh-” She looked at Tera, who was now looking at her curiously, Uzi grumbled as she censored herself, knowing that Tera was beginning to pick up more words. “Shoot. I forgot, how long do we have?”

“About an hour.” He replied, and she groaned. That wasn't nearly enough time to do what she wanted. She'd really wanted to get started on reverse engineering the first pod ASAP.

“Dang it. Ugh, okay… my feet are starting to hurt anyway…” She admitted sheepishly, which was true, she'd had to start shifting her weight differently do to her increased weight, putting pressure on her feet and back.

And, like the gentleman N was, he took that opportunity to quite literally sweep her off her feet. Picking her up bridal style in a single swift motion that had her let out a yelp.

The drones around her started to snicker, amused at N's open affection and Uzi's flushed, upset expression in return, an extremely violet blush invading her face.

��I can walk N!” She protested, feeling much too vulnerable for the public eye.

“What? It's not like everyone doesn't already know.” N smirked, which had the effect of making her more flustered, especially when the team she was supposed to be overseeing were now giggling at her expense.

“Bite me!” She seethed, crossing her arms before slumping in defeat, there was no escaping N's iron grip. She was taking a break, unwillingly.

“Uh, when the others get back, can you guys tell them we'll get the pod tomorrow night?” She fumbled over her request, mostly because N was still holding her as she made it, so much for garnering respect…

“Sure thing boss.” Someone relayed, giving her a small two fingered salutea while smirking. Uzi growled in indignation, and Tera pounced into her open arms half a second later with an excited trill.

“Let's just go before I die of embarrassment…” She mumbled, burying her head into his shoulder as N laughed, walking out of the small temporary structure and unsheathing his wings with a startling crack.

He went off the the direction of their nest, wind rushing and snow blowing past the family as he streaked through the air at high speeds, she could hear Tera laughing excitedly, but Uzi just gripped her tighter, making sure she wouldn't fall.

They were at the nest in less then ten minutes, N gently laying her within it's warm, safe, confines. Checking the heavy sheets put over the windows to block out even the slightest bit of cold.

Despite her indignation, she quickly relaxed, the muscles that now helped support her back beginning to decompress and her tail freeing itself without much conscious input.

Absent-mindedly, she tapped her own core, giving out a yelp as it shocked her with a tiny white spark, the core was sensitive duh. But now it was even more sensitive, becoming uncomfortable even with just the sensation of her clothing rubbing up against it.

It wasn't like she was going to wear her loose, low hanging shirts while in public though, so power through it she did.

“You good?” N asked after he did his obligatory ‘nest checks’. It seemed instinctual for him to make sure everything in the surrounding area was safe before he settled down with her, now joining beside her.

Tera crawled and rolled around the nest, taking pillows and throwing them small distances before attempting to chase after them on all fours. Easily entertaining herself.

“Y-yeah. Just startled myself. My core is getting super sensitive…” She hummed, curling up into N's comforting warmth the second she was able, purring softly when she felt N's fingers run through her hair.

“Is that… normal?” He asked, he assumed yes, she wasn't freaking out about it.

“Yup. Just another lovely symptom…” She deadpanned, feeling a yawn overtake her. She hadn't slept a wink during the construction of the workshop, nor any after she'd accidentally announced her pregnancy to the whole bunker.

“You should rest. It's not healthy for you or the baby to stay awake this long.” He hummed, she could feel his tail curl around hers, the beating of his core the perfect lullaby.

“Only if you actually sleep this time.” Uzi replied, and N chuckled, ignoring the way his core felt like lead or his visor angerly blinked that he needed to recharge. He'd tried, he just couldn't! His processors wouldn't let him go to sleep where something could sneak up on them.

“I'll try lovely.” The term of endearment made her curl up tighter into his chest and he sighed as he watched her drift off into sleep mode. His purrs, his tail and his warmth perfectly curated to relax his chosen mate.

Instead, he watched his kit play with a fond smile. Even if he couldn't sleep, he felt satisfied that he could at least keep then safe.

At least… until he heard a loud clang hit the side of the nest and he immediately detangled himself from her, growling louder then he'd ever had before in his life.

His processors were screaming again;

This was their nest! This was a special place, it was for his mate and her alone!

He came teeth bared and claws unseathed, a great territorial roar ringing out of his chest and his eyes in a vibrant red ‘X’. And the uncontrolled slashing of his claw was met with a sword, clashing against each other with a clatter.

V had narrowly avoided getting her head slashed off. Her eyelights hollow as she stared at him, the red drained from his visor and his thoughts returned from primal and erratic.

“V?”

“Holy fuck, you nearly took my head off!” She exclaimed, hanging off the side of the building much like he was.

“I-I'm sorry,, I don't know what came over me…” He blinked, the sudden outburst of uncharacteristic rage being gone in an instant.

“I think that was my fault… I snuck up on you.” She admitted, he could see her visibly relax, her head dipped inside the sheets, eyes falling on a still sleeping Uzi and an energetic kit.

“Is… there room for another? I uh… don't feel comfortable leaving you two out here alone.” Her tail was kinking as if just asking was uncomfortable for her.

N sighed, looking at the tint of purple beginning to crest of the horizon.

“There's not enough time for you to go anywhere if I said no.”

Not that he would've, despite his initial, very territorial reaction, V's presence was extremely welcome, a second drone to keep watch for threats.

He moved a sheet back with his tail to invite her in, and she gave him an uncertain smile as she crawled inside, eyes taking a scan around the nest as if she was memorizing it.

Tera threw herself on her, chirping loudly: “Vee!”

N curled himself around Uzi once more, this time however, sleep mode tugged on his visor, and he looked up at V, displaying how exhausted he was unintentionally.

“I got this one. That's why I'm here… I think?” She hummed, and with that conformation he quickly lost consciousness. V laying herself close to- but a respectful distance away from, the slumbering couple.

Next ->

[hcdragonwrites]

Too Close ( A @jttw-monkeybusiness Fanfic)

So this started as one thing and then It grew its own will and became another. I hope you enjoy!

TW: Blood and Gore- Violence as well. If these make you squeamish or can trigger you please read my other works instead!

It was supposed to just be a meal- a simple outing to the market square to buy up some noodles at a shop stand Pigsy had seen on the way through. It was supposed to be simple, easy day.

The market stall exploded in a shower of wood and porcelain as the monstrous thing rose from the stand. Sophie rolled, dodging the flying debris as best she could. A sliver of wood cut across her cheek but she felt nothing. Her mind only had one thing in it.

Oh shit that’s a massive snake.

But it wasn’t a snake. The head that toward from the market as the rest of the villagers fled, resembled a snake. It’s slitted eyes blinked and forked tongue tasted the air. Heat rippled outward from its body. The grasses dried in the damn soil. The earth that had moments ago been anointed with summer rain, cracked and snapped brittle in the sudden heat. Sophie felt her lips dry and her face chap in the change of temperature.

A grunt from nearby. Sophie turned to see Sandy rise from a cast off wall, a huddle Tripitaka in his arms. The snake head swayed, tongue tasting. It snapped its focus to Sandy and coiled its head back. A maw of pink and long silver teeth flew forward. The disciple threw up the discarded wall just in time for the things great teeth to be buried into wood instead of Flesh. Trip was no fool and at Sandy’s nod, escaped beneath his arm.

Sophie could hear Pigsy howling curses nearby from somewhere. The dust was still settling, the dried earth kicked upward as more of the things body was revealed. Fuck it had wings. Four black leathery wings grew from its back at disjointed angles. They beat unevenly. Their wind threw dirt and rocks into the air. The feel of it stung Sophie’s cheek. The Monk reached her then- hand outstretched. She caught it and he hauled her up off the dirt.

Run. Her heart seemed to thrash in her chest. Sophie saw more of the beast being revealed from the ruins of the market. An impossibly long coiled body- legs- more clawed legs. Six of them?- juxtaposed throughout its flesh at odd angles. She felt like she was moving too slow. Moving as if her blood was full of ice.

Those eyes blinked and the pupil widened. Sandy held the things face in his hands, the wooden wall king destroyed. The River demon strained as the thing bore down on him, all saliva and flashing fangs.

It could swallow him whole. Sophie felt a cold shiver run down her back as Trip and her fled. There was nothing either of them could do. They were mortals. This thing was beyond their ken. Beyond their ability. And it could swallow us whole.

Of course fleeing targets attract more attention then prey standing still. The great demonic beast of droughts shook off the irritable ant holding its fangs and dipped its head. The scent had been with the little thing before it but … it had moved. It smelled delectable. The tongue whipped out again, seeking. There- among the fleeing mortals this monster had disdainfully had been serving for the past years in hopes of devouring in return- was the taste. It was a man- a man hand in hand with a women. Two for the price of one. There was an irritable pain at its side but the Drought Bringer simply flicked one of its long claws and flapped its wings higher.

Into the air it rose- away from the sting of the weapons. The town with its simple huts and mud wall fell away. The demon rose up and angled itself. Heat radiated off, burring away the cloud cover and killing trees and greens all around it.

The monk would not get too far.

It coiled.

And struck out.

Sophie and Tripitaka were almost beyond the wall and into the rice fields. The heat had dried those up, killing crops and scattering the water into vapour. Villagers- merchants and Mothers, field workers and Fathers- all streamed to the exits.

They were almost out.

Sophie felt a prickle of fear, a new wave of apprehension swell in her mind. For what- for why- she didn’t know. What made Sophie turn her head then, to look back, she would never know. But she was glad for whatever spirit, god, or instinct made her look back.

A maw full of silvered fangs, of needle tips curved back and outward. An avalanche of heat and horror. She reacted and threw herself sideways. Tripataka, still holding her hand, was dragged with her.

The serpent struck the earth, sending an earthquake outward. Buildings shivered and collapsed. Children screamed and mothers called out. Sophie pulled the monk up beside her, trying to get him to rise. They didn’t have much time. She had bought them but a moment, but a second. They had to move had to get the fuck out of there.

“Trip get up-“ Sophie begged. The monk was trying- it looked like he had twisted something in his leg at the sudden fall. Up up up up up up get up please.

A angry hiss as the earth cracked more. The demon raised its head. It’s mouth was full of stone and dirt. And a few dangling limbs. The creature dropped these and angled it’s head again. It’s body coiled, it’s clawed and displaced legs curling.

Their second was up.

Sophie couldn’t look away- she wanted to- but it was the same feeling a rabbit, over exhausted and run down, experiences when cornered by a fox. The sense of frozen dread. She could no more look away then the rabbit could overcome its fear.

Of course the human mind is a strange thing for the only thing that Sophie could think on was, We didn’t even get to eat the damn noodles we paid for.

Something flashed, a glitter a bit above the serpents head. Like the flash of a moth wing in moonlight.

Wha—

A pillar of black and gold materialized where the flash had been. Such a small insignificant staff.

Sophie knew that staff.

The staff elongated over the monsters head. It slammed straight into the back of the snakes skull. The sound of iron against bone rang in the sky like a thunderclap. The demon cried in confusion and pain- an unholy scream that sent the air to shaking. The staff drove the things face down into the soil, just feet away from Sophie and Tripataka. Bones snapped, the sound of scale cracking beneath the iron rod as it drove down, down, down, down. The earth cracked with the impact.

The pressure was too great. The hide split as the earth could not give anymore and blood came in a spray of red.

The demon, the great Drought Bringer, rolled a bloodshot eye upward. A iron rod ? Was that what fell it ? Something so insignificant. A shadow loomed from the sunlight. Feet pressed on the demons head.

The demon knew this creature - this mild looking and bored Monkey- and felt the contents of its stomach turn to water. Those eyes slashed downward, making the serpent flinch.

The burning heat in this demons gaze—

Sun Wukong knelt on the dying beasts skull the iron staff of Ruyi Jingu Bang resting across one shoulder. Those yellow eyes went from flaming to disinterested as the demonic monkey looked at the mortals.

“I told you the market was a bad idea.”

The blond haired women who had avoided the great Drought Bringers strike, shot up on her legs from the rubble.

“ARE you SERIOUS?!”

“I am. I told you all it was a bad idea.”

“You couldn’t have said that there was a demonic flying snake?!?”

“Do you think the bastard pig would have listened to me if I had ?” Wukong huffed. He swung a foot languidly off the side of the serpents skull. Wukong tapped the golden circlet on his brow. “I would have gotten another headache by this dumb band.”

“WUKONG A WHOLE TOWN WAS DESTROYED!”

“Bah.” He waved his hand at that. “It was gonna be destroyed. This beast wouldn’t have waited any longer to eat again.”

The foot pressed into the gore in the back of the demons spine and a half gasp, half cough, of pain exhaled from between broken jaws. The serpent didn’t remove its eye from the Demon king above it.

It had heard stories. Legends of five hundred years ago when it had been but a hatchling, of a monkey of stone waging war against Heaven. Of almost succeeding in bending that great power into a kowtow.

“WUKONG WE ALMOST GOT SWALLOWED WHOLE BY A FUCKING BIG ASS SNAKE.” Sophie retorted.

“Naw. I had it all under control.” Wukong tapped the edge of his staff now onto the creatures head.

“Though it is taking awhile to die…”

The serpent felt the monkey lean forward. The burning gaze was back now that the simian wasn’t staring at the women.

“Tougher than I thought you were.” His voice had become softer. “Survive a blow - even to just bleed out like a bloody hog- is no easy feat with my staff.”

The pressure from his clawed feet pricked the broken scales long the serpents skin. Those claws were drawing blood. The monkey leaned down to whisper almost sweetly.

“You never were going to get your fangs into them you disgusting worm. Wanna know why? Because I’m Sun Wukong. I am the Great Sage. And your Tale-” the weight of the monkey felt oppressive, his claws digging harder into the tender broken scales. “-your insignificant little blip in history is at an end.”

The monkey foot was the last thing the serpent, the Feiwei, saw before the staff was driven down again into its eye. The blindness as the pupil exploded under the contact and the sharp pain as the staff drove through the eye socket and into the recesses of the skull were the serpents last feelings.

Demonic minds were not like mortals. They did not flit between two threads of disconjointed emotions. The Feiwei knew it’s end and bitterly died.

The demon gave a final strangled gasp as it twitched once, twice and then was no more. The remaining demons eye rolled in its head. Crimson blood wept from the exposed eye socket and the broken skull. It mixed with the dirt to make a black patch in the soil. At the serpents death the air stopped its dry repression and eased in its intense heat.

Wukong stepped off lightly from the dead serpents head. His feet crossed through the bloody wake and up to Sophie who still stood, a bit dumbfounded, over Tripataka.

That was brutal. Sophie thought.

Then her body remembered itself and her stomach seized at the scent of demon blood. Bile burned up the back of her throat.

Please please please don’t throw up. That was the last thing she needed. Sophie pulled Tripataka up.

The monk hissed and winced as his weight tried to take his foot. And crumpled.

“Is it broken?” Sophie worried. She didn’t see any tears in the skin- any blood. Blood.

Again she fought a wave of nausea. The back of the demons neck had been cut wide open- almost as if obliterated- by a single strike. The trauma of the loss of so much bodily mass to a central location, the skull, had been enough to kill it but it had lived on. Just long enough for Wukong to stab it in the eye.

“Not … not broken. Just sprained.” Trip smiled, sweat building on his brow. “Sophie .. thank —“

Tripatakas words died on his throat as he disciple came into full view. And he blanched.

“Stupid beast.” Wukong picked his claws, flicking some of the blood free from their tips. The stone monkey was absolutely painted in crimson, having delivered the blow and standing behind the beast as it fell. Dark ichor dripped from the side of his face, matting the fur in places that the blood was thickest in.

“See Master ?” Wukong grinned- not helping the two mortals as they both struggled with their aversions: Tripataka for violence and Sophie for blood.

“I almost died ….” Trip muttered, the shock coming over him then.

“There there Trip.” Sophie soothed - but she sounded wooden as she also felt her stomach heave. Gods and spirits the blood stank.

“Why does everything bad happen to me?”

“It’s ok Trip.”

“Why is it always devouring they try and accomplish?! Buddha it’s breath stank of rot.”

“Most human eating demons don’t have pretty breath.”

Wukong, oblivious or willfully blind to the mortal dilemmas unfolding before him, swaggered closer.

“Well! That’s another monstrosity down. Solved with violence.” Wukong barred his teeth. His mood was improved from when they had first arrived and none had taken his warning seriously. Not even Sophie. That was an insult. She was lulled in by Pigsy who kept regaling all with the tales of this unique little village.

Utter drivel. Wukong had seen real food wonders- Hell he came from the most fruitful mountain in the world! What could some boiled water and limp noodles compare to the tastes of flower fruit mountain?

Wukong turned, leaning against his staff as he rested it against the ground. “Sophie did ya see that ?”

“Yes.” Her voice was tight as she watched the blood drip off Wukong.

“You didn’t throw up?” He inquired with a flash of teeth.

“… no I didn’t.” Her stomach kept trying to make her mouth open up but Sophie was stronger then that.

“HA! Soft women don’t lie! You look just as pale as when that thing was diving at you!” Wukong laughed, his tail twitching in humor. “How would either of you get by without me?”

“Wukong maybe nows not the time—“ Sophie tried but was brushed over as Wukong puffed his chest up and grinned all the wider.

“I, the great Sun Wukong have saved my master again. Did I not do a great job dispatching the beast for you master ?” It was half mock, half fishing for compliments. He did just slay a demonic multi limbed serpent out of the sky.

“Wukong…”

“Not even praise ?!” Well that was dreadfully disappointing. He expected some sort of good job from the monk.

Sophie wanted to roll her eyes. Can’t he read the room?

“Wukong you did a fantastic job!” Sophie would try and smooth things over. While also not suffering from her flipping stomach. “Amazing. It’s just the — the blood— it stinks. Worse then normal. —“

“I know you are thankful because you have decent sense but I want to hear it from him!”

At this moment Tripataka stood straight suddenly. He calmly limped to one of the bushes. And promptly vomited.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Wukong huffed, irritable even in the hot springs warmth. He had a bucket in one hand and a washboard in the other, and had scrubbed the blood free of his clothes. Pants, shirt, tiger skin- it all had to be washed. Of course Wukong had pilfered some soap awhile back from the Market square the Pilgrims had passed through. He had set to work, scrubbing and pulling and worrying over the clothing until it was clean. He knew he had to clean it. He took pride in his looks and decorum. Wukong would have gone to the spring naturally on his own in time.

Wukong twitched the edge of his tail annoyed.

He was aware he was a bit unkempt after saving Sophie and Tripataka from the Feiwei. He had just batted the thing out of the air into the earth. There was bound to be blood and gore after a swing like that. Sophie had given him a brief berating of getting himself cleaned up- and when he had asked and demanded for what was rightly his - praise, thanks, AT LEAST A YOUR WELCOME- Sophie had promised him that she would lavish him in praise if he would just get clean.

Fine. If his Master wouldn’t spoil him in praise and was currently giving his attention to Sandy then the Monkey would wheedle it out of Reader.

Wukong sunk lower into the water, thinking. He hadn’t let the group go into the town without him. Though he had threatened and grumbled and said “fuck that” Wukong had set a double to follow from above, watching. Of course the Pig would follow his nose to the demons lair. Of course he would assure the others that there was no way this could be a demon.

Wukong swore the Pig was out to get them killed half the time.

Well the rest was predictable. As soon as that wiggling worm had taken one sniff of the monk, he had grown all greedy and hungry and hadn’t been able to keep its human disguise.

Wukong had the whole situation under control though- it had just - taken him a moment to wake up from his dozing. The snake had gotten a bit close. Maybe the invisible double had shoved the two mortals just a bit too hard. That twisted ankle of the Monks would take some time to heal. Luckily the village headman had given the group his home- a little but set back into a bit of shaded pine and with its own hot spring - to rest und for as long as needed. And while Wukong had endured the grating reprimand of Pigsy at being late, the monkey had felt a bit smug. His deeds had scored them nice lodgings.

Wukong wouldn’t care about where they slept. The Monkey King could simply find a nice patch anywhere and curl up. The boon I’m his cap though was the absolute excited light sweep into Sophie’s eyes at the mention of beds and pillows and a roof over their head.

Wukong pulled himself out of the water, the steam rising off of his body in the twilight air. It had been enough time since him washing his clothes to his longs soak that, in the summer sun, had dried enough. Maybe not the shirt but his trousers had. The rest would have to wait till morning. Wukong had a Reader to annoy now.

Sophie was in heaven. After the hellish day of demonic snakes and almost getting devoured, Sophie was comfortable and cozy and all too happy to rush to the futon that had been dragged into the center of her little room.

A bed. Clean clothes. A full belly. The horror of the day was an echo but it was still there. If she closed her eyes she could still hear it- still smell the hot breath blasting across their faces.

A knock on her door had her start from the memory.

Who’s that ?

It wouldn’t be Pigsy. The man had passed out hours ago after the steamed buns and broth the village headman had left for them. Maybe it was Sandy? That didn’t seem likely since he was currently nursing Tripitakas twisted ankle. It would be better after the swelling went down.

Did Wukong really take me up on my offer of praise?

“READER OPEN THE DOOR.”

Yep. There was only one stone monkey that sounded that annoyed yet still knocked with the politeness. Sophie stepped to the door and opened it.

And stared just a little.

She had been expecting to see a fully clothed Sun Wukong leaning against her door. What she hadn’t been expecting was a half dressed Wukong with his arms crossed over his chest. And emphasizing that he most certainly did not have a shirt on.

“Where’s your shirt?” Brilliant Sophie. Blurt the first thing that comes to mind. Wukong pushed off the doorframe and past her into the room, giving her a clear view of his pecs, his shoulders, his back.

Pull it together girl and get your mind out of the gutter.

“I had to clean it since you and the monk threw a sick fest at a little bit of blood.” The monkey sat down, crossing his legs beneath him. At least he knows how to make himself comfortable.

“Right…” Sophie watched as Wukong began to slide his fingers through the wet fur along his back, beside his face and over his arms. Grumbling as his nails seemed to catch and pull in the longer bits of his fur. Wukong flexed his arms to reach a spot. The ripple of muscle along his back was unexpected.

Sophie felt her face flame up. I’m glad he’s so wrapped into himself because if he saw what I looked like right now—

“Well I’m clean now but my fur is all snarled.” He snapped. The monkey was currently struggling with a knot of fire at the base of his neck.

“I have a brush you can borrow.” Anything to get my head out of that space and back in line with normal thinking. She crossed the mats and grabbed her bag. Sophie plucked her brush free from its place, walking back to Wukong. She was a bit startled he was watching her, his eyes half closed in thought.

“You know what… this wouldn’t have happened if you had just followed my warning women.”

“What?”

“A mess is what you and Pigsy and Trip caused.” Wukong leaned his head back and let the water still clinging to his fur, drip downward. “All because you didn’t listen to the warning I gave.”

What was she supposed to do? Sophie had been hungry, had been just as trusting of Pigsys judgment of what was mortal and what was maligned hungry demonic pretending to be mortal. She tried to pass the brush to Wukong, hoping that if she gave him what he wanted he would leave off his snippy comments.

The monkey raised an eyebrow at the brush.

“You can take it ya know- it’s as good as any comb you have.” Sophie lifted the brush and ran it through her hair in demonstration. Hers was a simple hairbrush with short bristles and a worn handle from use.

“Back on the mountain many female members of my kingdom would kowtow and beg for a chance I’m about to give you.” Wukong said.

Chance ?

The monkey king closed her hands over the handle. He turned, setting his hands on his knees as his back faced her now. “Not everyone gets the chance I am giving you- so be grateful.”

“You want me to… brush you?”

“Brush my fur.” It was more command then question.

“Alright.”

Sophie began at the tops of his shoulders. The short bristled brush caught in the hair and slide free, leaving it untangled. Wukongs fur was thick enough to be like her own hair and the brush carefully and methodically by Sophie’s hand, worked through the thickest patches of fur. At places she would have to switch to a comb, one Wukong slid soundlessly from his pocket and passed back to her. This was strangely nice… if not a bit intimate. The constant motion of the brush, of the task, was helping her still jittery mind calm and work through the events that had led up to them being here in a house. With her grooming Wukong.

“When did you know about the demon?” It came tumbling from her mouth before she could stop it.

“As soon as we came upon the village.” Wukong answered. He had his eyes closed, tail swaying against the wooden floor. “The townspeople stank of demon. Seems that beast has been feeding them up to try and cultivate some souls.”

“Sounds like how some insects raise other bugs” Like how ants raise aphids.

“Or like how mortals raise cattle.” Wukong commented.

“Mmm” Sophie felt her mind run through the memories again. The serpent lashing out- and her ability to drag Trip out of the way of that strike. Of the great snake lifting it’s head from the broken earth. Of it lunging a second time. We both could have been dead so fast. No one would have known. Wukong had been left behind, Pigsy had been thrown off somewhere. Only Sandy knew what may have happened to them. Sophie’s brushing slowed.

A snap of fingers made her blink out of the memories.

“Speak.”

“Speak?”

“Don’t parrot me.” Wukong opened his eye just a fraction to shoot her a glare. “ Something on your mind, you stupid women. Spit it out.”

“I thought… I thought we were dead..”

“You would have been if I hadn’t come!” Wukong reached back and took her hand in his. The Monkey king moved the brush up to his head where the fur was in a most disheveled state. Sophie started to gently untangle it, careful of how hard or how fast she worked. He may be able to burst from fires and come away without any lacerations but he may not take kindly to a mortal carelessly tugging at his fur. The wet strands moved slowly through the bristles as he talked. “Makes you want to take heed of a Kings words hmm?”

For all his boasting and puffing up, for all his prideful japes and comments… he almost had been too late. If she hadn’t yanked Trip. If they hadn’t run … “You almost weren’t there though…”

“Sophie.”

“Yea?”

He was turned about, facing her dead on before she could blink. Wukongs yellow eyes looked over her then. Little scrapes here and their. No major cuts. Except for the still red and puffy slice along her cheek. Wukong reached forward and ran a thumb over the slice. I should have sent more then one invisible douple.

“You wouldn’t have been eaten.” He would lessen her worry, and reaffirm his abilities. Had she forgotten? He was Sun Wukong- no demon could stop him. “I wouldn’t have let it happen. I would have torn the bastard apart before it got even a flick of spit on you. You or the monk.”

And next time I’ll make sure I leave them with two invisible doubles instead of one.

Sophie had frozen when he brushed his hand across her face. He was being kind, sensing her turmoil over it all. She was about to say something in kind, something to match that kindness.

“It’s my duty to protect the weak mortals on this quest. It would reflect badly on me as King of Flower Fruit Mountain if I let those under my care get devoured by some slimy worm.” Of course he couldn’t resist the opportunity to flaunt his importance.

“That almost sounds like reassurance.” Sophie sighed. She raised the brush up again in silent question.

“It is reassurance.” He affirmed. Wukong nodded once at the brush, spinning back around. “No harm comes to those that are in my care.”

“Well. Then if it only takes brushing your fur for that… I would be happy to do it every night.”

Wukongs tail gave a little flick. They spent the rest of the night talking, trading quips and jokes. As the of cicadas from beyond the doors blended with the soft swish of the brush, a feeling of contentment and camaraderie fell between the two. And something … more grew.

[jugoswolf5678]

Ghost x AFAB!Reader 🔞

Summary: Simon gets jealous of König so he destroys your 😺 as punishment 😈

⚠️CW⚠️: mature/sexual themes

⚠️READ AT YOUR OWN RISK⚠️

---

She seriously irked him.

Despite the relationship going on strong, Simon still felt as if he could not trust his lover 100%.

Still, he could not blame her for being the way she was. Y/N was the type of woman to try to get on the good side of her closest peers, to get them to feel as relaxed as her. Surely some would see her overfriendly aura to be quite stifling. Though that did not deter her mission to spread positivity.

But many would wrongly assume Y/N's manner as rather perverse.

And this is just the case with Simon. He has observed some of the exchanges with her and his fellow comrades, causing an unpleasant twinge in his chest, and he did not want to acknowledge that fact.

But he couldn't avoid it forever.

---

"Bro, are you even listening?" Johnny waved his fork in front of Simon's face. He was staring hard at Y/N exchanging pleasantries with a certain Austrian.

Johnny heaved a sigh of slight irritation. "C'mon mate. You can't be starin' at them forever. Y/N ain't the type to wander astray."

"And how would you know that?" Simon scoffed, turning his head towards him with a twitch in his eye.

"Trust me, I know. It's painfully obvious what's goin' on." Johnny was unable to hide the smirk creeping on his face.

"Go on..."

"I don't have to, man. Don't you trust the poor girl?"

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tch..."

Johnny pondered for a moment. "Maybe remind her of what she has?"

"What are you on about, Soap?" Simon snapped.

"Teach her a lesson. Put her in her place." Johnny pointed his fork in the other man's face. "You know damn well where I'm goin' with this."

"Fuckin' hell..."

---

Everything came to a head the next day. König and Y/N were heavily engaged in a discussion regarding their childhoods and the struggles they've had to endure. Simon took notice of this, and discovered some intimate details that Y/N refrained from telling him.

It felt like a real slap to the face, to say the least.

"The hell is going on here?" Simon stormed over, placing a protective hand on Y/N's shoulder.

"We're just reminiscing of our pasts is all," König started. "Is that a problem?"

Ouch.

Y/N was snatched away from the table before she was able to register. Simon tossed her over his shoulder as though she weighed nothing, and swiftly carried her away towards his cabin room.

"Scheiße. Hope she can still walk after this." König stifled a snicker.

---

Y/N was shoved into the cabin room. "What the heck's your problem, man?!"

Simon said nothing. He only responded by glaring into her confused yet slightly frightened eyes. Rather than yell, he wanted to show her exactly with whom he had a bone to pick.

"Simon, baby, you're scaring me... What's the matter?" She tried asking him, but was once again met with silence.

He slowly sauntered over to Y/N, backing her into the wall. Caging her with his massive arms, he trapped her like a lion about to pounce on its prey.

Y/N felt a cramp in her throat, and she could feel her eyes stinging. "Simon, I don't understand, why are you so mad at me? König-"

"It's always about that bastard with you, isn't it?! Fuck me, right?!" Simon roared, making her flinch and causing a fresh trail of salty tears to fall.

"What are you-oh!" Y/N began, but was cut off when she felt a sharp sting to her lower backside.

"You don't speak unless I allow you to. Got that?" He whispered in her ear. His hot breath and stubble had sent a shiver down her back.

"But-"

Another fierce slap to the ass shut her up immediately. "What did I just fuckin' say? Shut your goddamn mouth!"

"Why are you-"

Simon grabbed her chin, forcing Y/N to look him directly in his eyes. Not once had she ever seen him this livid before, his anger was near palpable.

"What part of 'do not speak unless spoken to' do you not understand?" He snarled. The grip on Y/N's chin tightened a smidgen, sending a small shock to her chest.

"Since you can't learn to close that mouth of yours on your own, I guess I'll have to do it for you." Simon spouted. Y/N could swear she saw an almost sadistic smirk crawl on his face.

"Kneel."

Not wanting to disobey him, she immediately fell to her knees. Simon's abnormally large tent stared her right in the face, and to say she is terrified would be a massive understatement.

"You're a smart girl. You know what to do, and you know what'll happen if you fuck up." He glared down at her, increasing her fear tenfold.

Y/N shakily reached for Simon's bulge and caressed the outline of his thick shaft. Pulling the zipper down, she let his erection out of the confines of his pants, nearly slapping her in the face. She wrapped her small hand around his girth, and started to gently pump him. The pulsing she felt in her pussy was beginning to become uncomfortable.

She started with a slow, long lick from base to tip, peppering little kisses along the sides of Simon's cock. Leaving out breathy whimpers, Y/N opened wide and swallowed as much of him as she could manage, jerking what she couldn't fit.

Y/N closed her eyes, but snapped them open when Simon lightly popped her left cheek.

"Nope. You close your eyes again and you ain't gettin' a single drop of cum. That's the deal."

She continued to work his cock in her mouth, lidded eyes staring into Simon's. The last thing she needed was being denied one of the things she craved the most.

Her almost inaudible moans sent tiny vibrations through Simon's cock. She sucked and pumped him with gusto, not letting her stare be broken a second time. She almost forgot that her pussy was craving attention too, but as she reached her hand between her plush thighs, he pulled her off his cock with a less than pleased expression.

"Tut tut tut, that won't do either. No touching that pussy of yours unless I say so."

Y/N only responded with more tears falling and another pained whine.

"Aw, did I hurt your precious feelings?" Simon sneered. "Imagine how I felt when I saw you with König all those times..."

His mischievous grin grew wider as he violently rocked his hips into Y/N's face, forcing his entire length down her throat. She held on tight to Simon's thighs as she gagged, struggling to take him in her mouth.

"Tell you what," Simon began. "If you can hold my dick in your throat for 30 seconds, then MAYBE I'll allow you to speak..."

The pain between Y/N's legs was next to unbearable. If Simon didn't allow her to touch herself for another second, she was certain she'd die.

Thirty seconds had passed, and thankfully Y/N has been able to take Simon's cock with no trouble. When the time was up, he slowly removed her head, his length completely soaked with her saliva.

"You did so well this time." He caressed Y/N's face, wiping a few tears away. At this point, he expected her to speak up and ask for forgiveness, but she refused to utter a word.

"You can talk now." Simon lifted Y/N's head up, her glossy eyes staring back at him.

"I'm..."

"You're what? Use your words." He cocked his head to the side.

"I'm sorry..." She hung her head, facing away from Simon in shame.

"Hmmm...Maybe I'll forgive you, on one condition." He replied.

"What do you want me to do?" Her voice got quieter with each word.

"Prepare yourself, darling. Like I said earlier, you're a smart girl. And you know what'll happen if you fuck up."

---

The room was filled with the sounds of wet slaps and Y/N's pitiful cries. Her pussy was overwhelmed with pleasure, she felt like every thrust would send her over the edge.

Simon had her bent over the edge of his bed, holding her arms behind her as he brutally fucked her senseless. Touching every sensitive spot deep inside her, he wanted to hear her cry out his name and beg for his release.

"Tell me, princess. Can König make you feel this good?"

"N-No..." She breathed.

"It's a damn shame he'll never get to feel how wet and tight your cunt is. A goddamn shame..." Simon's thrusts began to quicken, becoming more fierce and rough.

"Simon, I'm close-! W-Wanna cum!"

At her words, he immediately pulled out, keeping Y/N from her prize.

"I don't think you deserve my cum, sweetie. Have you learned your lesson tonight?" He lightly soothed the tender skin of her pussy, coating his fingers with her arousal.

"Yes I have! Please, I beg you! I want you!"

"What about König?" He whispered in her ear again.

"Never! I only want you! Please let me cum!"

Simon clutched both sides of her ass cheeks and plunged deep into her sopping cunt. Shrieking, Y/N swore her cervix had been breached. She had far underestimated his size, but she did not care one bit. All she wanted was for Simon to paint her cunt white with his seed.

"Fuck-!"

The dam inside Simon finally bursts, shooting ropes of his warm, thick cum into her pussy. Y/N wailed in response, a far away look of satisfaction plastered on her face. She breathed out a sigh of relief, not only because he forgave her, but for also being left a cum filled husk in the process.

"And the next time I catch you pulling some shit like that, I'm gonna tie his ass up and fuck you in front of him. Got that?"

[luckylittlelesbian]

Happier Than Ever

cate dunlap x fem!oc

Summary: Neither of them are to blame, not really. They couldn’t help it that Mia was pathetically in love and Cate was a damaged 18 year old who didn’t know anything other than the four walls of her childhood bedroom and Mia.

info: co-dependency, substance abuse, mentions of seizures and throwing up, angst

word count: 2.3k

"Looks good…” Cate feels like she hasn’t eaten a proper meal in weeks. Technically she hasn't. Instant ramen and fast food barely count as proper meals.

“Slowly okay? Your stomach needs to adjust.” Mia is always gentle with her, so so gentle, even after all this time. Even after all that Cate has put her through.

It’s a clear struggle for Cate to keep it slow. Her stomach is void after she emptied it into Mia's trash can, and then emptied it again. But she knows it'll all just go back up again if she rushes this, so she forces herself to eat at a normal pace, taking small, even bites, glancing at Mia as she chews.

Cate is a weapon, a dangerous one. She didn't even need to use her powers to destroy Mia's life, all she had to do was look at her with those eyes and Mia would have followed her to hell. Cate wouldn't even have to ask.

She slept in Mia's bed. She slept all night and most of the afternoon, sweating out the toxins in her bloodstream. The whites of her eyes are still blood red, hey eyes glossy and her hair a mess.

Mesmerised, Mia reaches out to move some of the blonde locks out of Cate’s face.

God, she’s so in love with this girl.

Cate blushes faintly, though, of course, Mia doesn't notice.

She ducks her head and tries focusing on her food. It’s a constant battle between wanting to eat and thinking about how Mia’s hand felt, so briefly, in her hair.

“I'm sorry about… everyone else.” Mia says, pulling Cate out of her spiralling thoughts, as she remembers the way the panicked and very wasted group of college kids dropped Cate off at her front door last night and left her there. Like an unwanted baby being left at a church's front steps.

They wanted to keep partying and Cate looked like she was close to death. Whether it was from taking too much of something, or taking the wrong thing, Mia still isn't sure. When it comes to Cate, she's never certain about anything anymore.

However, her blood-shot eyes make it clear that it wasn't just drugs that caused this. Mia knows Cate's friends use her to get into the fanciest clubs and bars in New York. And seemingly, they pushed her to push a bit too much. Mia never really liked Cate’s other friends. And when Cate was having a seizure on her living room floor last night, Mia wanted to kill them.

Cate either doesn't realise or she just doesn't care. She probably just wants to fit in, she just wants to be liked. Even if she destroys herself in the process.

When Mia brings up the others, Cate feels a sudden pang in her chest. They’ve barely crossed her mind in the last twelve hours. She thinks she should be upset. Furious. But instead, the thought of her so-called friends feels hollow.

“They're no good for you.” Mia says even thought she knows the words fall on deaf ears. Cate always goes back to them.

“Maybe… maybe you’re right. They…” She lets out a sigh, pausing to take another bite, "they can be shitty sometimes."

Cate picks up on Mia's silent gratefulness. A hint of guilt gnaws at her. She does see what Mia sees, she just chooses to ignore it. For the highs. The thrill. The rush. The drugs and the partying is what has her heart racing and her nerves on fire.

The drugs are more exhilarating than Mia. A painful truth, but a truth nonetheless.

Cate looks back at her, holding her fork, watching. "You're always taking care of me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s what I'm here for.” The words would be bitter, they should be bitter, but they're not. Mia is here for Cate, because Cate is her life, Cate is all she has. Cate made sure of it.

Mia doesn't have a sliver of hope left in her, no expectation that things will change. She’ll nurse Cate back to health, and Cate will go right back to the drugs and the parties. Mia won’t let herself believe anything different. Not again.

“Mia, I-” Cate cuts herself off. She can’t bring herself to say she’ll change because she already broke that promise to her before. She made a lot of empty promises. She knows she can’t make another now. She can’t look Mia in the eyes and make a promise she could break. A promise she deep down knows she will break.

“You should finish your food before it gets cold.” Mia doesn't need to hear what Cate was going to say.

Thankfully, Cate wordlessly returns to eating her food, chewing at it so slow Mia worries her jaw might start to hurt.

As they sit quietly, Mia watches and waits and misses the way things were back in their home town.

Sometimes she feels pathetic for giving into Cate’s begging and moving across the country with her when Cate was accepted into God U. She feels pathetic for thinking it would still just be the two of them. That Cate wouldn’t find new friends and replace her and leave her on the side-lines. Only to come crawling back when she was at her lowest.

But that is exactly what’s been happening lately. She doesn’t feel like a best friend anymore. She feels like a mother, or an on call nurse.

Things were so much easier back home, Mia wonders if Cate feels this way too.

Mia feels so fucking guilty for the nights she spends lying awake unable to fight off the selfish thoughts that fill her mind. The wishing that they could just go back in time, the wishing that Cate never got accepted to God U. Mia desperately just wants things to go back to the good old days, back when it was just the two of them.

Now Mia lives in an apartment off Campus all by herself, away from her home, away from her family, because she naively thought Cate would stay by her side. But Cate found new friends and only ever comes over when those junkies refuse to help her during her drug induced psychoses and mental breakdowns. Or during the times when her education takes a hit from all the partying and she needs help and a quiet place to study.

“This is good…” Cate mumbles sheepishly, like she can tell what Mia is thinking. But it's true, the food is as good as she remembers. Mia has always been a good cook. She takes another couple of bites before she can’t deal with the guilt and the silence anymore.

She puts her fork down, leaning her forearms on the kitchen table. “I… I never wanted you to live by yourself here, Mia.” she begins, glancing up at the other girl.

Cate doesn’t need to bring this up. It’s been over two years. Mia is used to this now. She has this lonely apartment. A dead end job. And she’s alone because Cate throws a fit whenever Mia even mentions possibly trying to date.

“I wish… I wish I’d never taken you here…” she's looking down at the table as she speaks now, too ashamed, too guilty, to keep looking into Mia's jaded eyes.

Cate just wanted her so badly. She needed her here, even if it meant dragging her from her previous life and into somewhere she didn’t want to be, all so Cate could live out her… whatever this is.

“You were supposed to go to college too! And I made you give it up. I was a selfish, self-centred brat, and I forced you to give up everything to come here with me!” The words spill out before she can stop them, a confession of guilt. “And I was the worst friend! I didn’t listen to you when you were only ever trying to take care of me. I made you give up your future, I made you live alone far away from your family, I made you-”

She cuts herself off, inhaling shakily. She’s on the verge of tears, and she still can’t bear to look at Mia.

Regardless of how Cate tries to spin it, Mia will never see this as fully Cate's fault. It’s not like Cate used her powers, or held a gun to her head and forced her to move to New York. All Cate did was look at her, with those big, puppy dog eyes. Drowned Mia in that blue, and brought her back to life with a smile. And Mia was hers, to do with as Cate pleased. Even if that meant getting Mia to give up her acceptance to UCLA so she could come with Cate to New York and be there for her while she attended God U.

Mia chose to do that for Cate because even back then she was so madly in love with her best friend, and too weak to listen to her brain and not her heart.

But regardless of how Mia feels about it, Cate’s taking full responsibility anyway, because she does feel responsible. She was the one who begged, and pouted, and promised and swore and all but manipulated Mia into leaving California, so she could get what she wanted. All Mia did was try to take care of her, and instead, she got dragged across the country away from her family and friends and everything she’d ever known all for some… “And- and I know you only came with me because I wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer!!”

Maybe she knows, realistically, that she didn’t make Mia come. She could have very easily just touched her hand, and sure she didn't do that, but she did manipulate her. With tears and pouting and those eyes and she knew that the best way to get Mia to do what she wanted was to pout and be sad and guilt trip her. And it’s so selfish, but that’s what she did. “I knew you would do anything I wanted if I cried a little!! And I used that against you!”

“It doesn’t matter, Cate.” Mia stops Cate's little guilt parade. “I made my choices.”

Sure, Cate lied. She promised it would be the two of them. That they’d remain best friends. As close as they have always been. Mia and Cate against the world.

But they were naïve. Cate didn’t know anything other than the four walls of her bedroom and Mia. Of course she wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation of college life. The drugs, the parties, the alcohol, the people. The shiny new things Cate has never experienced.

They were stupid to think their friendship wouldn’t suffer in this completely different, completely new environment.

“It does matter, Mia.” Cate insists. “Because I made your choices for you.”

It had hurt to go from being so close, practically glued at the hip, to living completely different lives.

“It’s not like you feeling bad about it is going to change the past and the choices we made.” Mia doesn’t even sound angry over it anymore, and a fresh wave of guilt swamps Cate at Mia’s tone. That resigned disappointment shatters her heart just as Cate had shattered their friendship.

Cate can't help but wish Mia would just be angry, shout and scream, cuss her out or throw something at her. She needs something other than this tired disappointment, which hurts so much worse than anger.

“I know that. I…” She doesn’t know what to say, because she can’t do anything about it now. It’s done. She wants to apologize again, offer another I’m sorry that’s just as cheap and shallow as the last.

“You’re still unwell, Cate. All you should worry about right now is eating, resting and getting better.”

“I…” Cate doesn’t have any argument or defence anymore, she's starting to feel as acquiescent as Mia is.

“Why are you taking care of me?” Cate asks suddenly, the one questions she has on her mind every single time this happens.

There’s several answers she could think of: Because Mia has always taken care of her. Because Mia is still the girl she was back home. She's still the girl who would sneak into her room in the middle of the night, who stayed up with her thought her panic attacks, when her room started to feel just a little too claustrophobic to handle. Or because Mia is still the same girl that used to have hopes and dream for a future, their future. Because Mia still believes in her. Because Mia still cares about her.

All Cate can do is hope she didn't completely destroy this yet.

Because I love you.

Mia has to bite her tongue so hard it almost bleeds just to keep from blurring that out.

“You’re my best friend.” she says instead.

There it is. The same excuse Mia always gives, and the same response that makes Cate want to scream.

Right.

Of course.

Her friend.

There’s a pang in her chest at the two words. It’s stupid. She has no right to be anything other than relieved that Mia is still her friend. After all she has done she should be on her knees begging Mia to not give up one her. She should be grateful Mia still hasn't. She knows she should be. But it still hurts a little more than it should, hearing it.

Even the voice that whispers in the back of her head is mocking her: What were you hoping for?

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

don’t close your eyes (Matt Murdock x f!reader)

summary || Elektra comes back to town with one goal in mind- to get Matt back. She’d do anything to get him back, even harming his girlfriend.

wc || 1.7k

warnings || angst, mentions of blood, death

a/n || from this request. this is quite different to what I usually upload and I feel a little embarrassed in case it’s not good. it might be a little dark for some people, so I won’t be offended if you skip this one. I was listening to sad music while I wrote the last part, so be warned😭

masterlist + rules

taglist

through your eyes (part 2) ->

You and Matt were having a calm morning, quietly enjoying each other's company as you shared breakfast. 

“You okay?” You ask, noticing the way he suddenly tensed up.

“Yeah. I’ll be back in a moment.” Kissing your forehead to excuse himself.

Walking out of the apartment and into the hallway where he found Elektra leaning against the wall, waiting got for his arrival.

“What are you doing here?” He whisper shouts, not wanting you to hear while still being able to convey his disgust to her presence.

“I’m here to get you back Matthew.” She said slowly, stalking forward to stroke his arms.

“You need to go.” He says warningly.

“Not until I have you back Matthew.”

“I won’t ask you again.” Gripping onto her forearms.

“I love how rough you are with me… but that’s beside the point. I want you back.”

“No, I have a girlfriend.” He scoffs while ripping his hands off Elektra’s arms.

“That hurts my heart Matthew, but you must know… if I can’t have you… then you can’t have your little plaything.” She flirtatiously taunts.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He grits, growing frustrated with the conversation.

“Hm, well… I’ll kill her.” Pausing to make it seem as though she’s thinking. “Yeah, I will kill her.” 

“I don’t believe you.” He spits as he pushes her against the wall.

“My heart Matthew, listen to my heart… you know I never lie.”

He doesn’t reply, but she could tell by his lack of communication that he knew.

“You have until the end of the day to break things with her- oh and make sure to tell her that you love me instead, I want her to hurt.” She smirks. “The longer I have to wait… the more your girlfriend will suffer… so I guess I will see you soon Matthew.” Kissing his cheek before walking away. 

All he could do was stand there stunned. Matt knew Elektra was telling the truth and he couldn’t bare the thought of putting you in danger. He knew he had to let you go, he just didn’t want to. 

He takes a couple of deep breaths before walking back in, trying to clear his mind.

“Hey? Are you okay?” You ask sounding worried.

“Yeah.” Poking his fork into a potato.

“Matt?” You ask cautiously, sweetly placing your hand over his.

“I’m okay.” Smiling at you disingenuously. 

You wanted him to be honest, but you didn’t want to push. You told yourself that he’d come to you when he was ready, so you changed the subject.

“Breakfast was lovely, thank you. What do you want to do today?” Collecting the dishes to put in the sink. “We could stop by that new farmer's market? I think they’ve got some great deals. Or we could get coffee?”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry.” Rubbing the bridge of his nose. Your sweet and nurturing nature made this situation impossibly harder, he adored your pure heart and the thought of breaking it, made him spiral.

“That’s okay, or we can stay here?” You offer, sensing that he might not be in the mood to do too much.

Dropping his head into his hands as he exhaled deeply.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” You ask warmly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t do this.” He sighs. 

“Do what?” Slowly pulling your hand away.

“I can’t be with you anymore, I’m sorry…” Dropping his head further into his hands so that they could block his ears, not wanting to hear the way those words destroyed you.

Standing still for what felt like forever, slowly stepping back and into the living room. You didn’t know what to say. Things were going so well, how could he change his mind so quickly? You didn’t want to fight it, it was clear he had made his decision. 

“I’ll… uh- um.” You stuttered not knowing how to respond. “Uh- I’ll go get my stuff.” You breathed strenuously, trying not to cry.

He could feel his own heartbreak along with yours, so desperately wanting to reach out and hold you. He knew he couldn’t make this any harder for you, so he stayed away. Listening to every stifled sniffle and every erratic pound of your heart.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you leave Matt’s bedroom walking past him and out of the door. You weren’t able to speak right now, too afraid of bursting into tears in front of him. Closing the door behind you. 

// 

It had been a few weeks since Matt ended things with you, and quite frankly you’ve been a mess. You’ve not been able to do anything recently so your apartment was in a state. You have been racking your brain trying to think of what you did wrong, what was missing or what you could’ve done differently.

You just truly missed him.

Today has been a slow one but you felt like you were finally getting there. You were able to put some things away in the kitchen, doing little jobs to help you feel accomplished. Doing small things to try to make you feel better. 

Pulling your hair into a quick ponytail, and throwing on a cardigan to get the mail from downstairs. Shoving your feet into whatever shoes were closest to the door, making your way to collect the months' worth of letters.

Walking back up to your floor you see Matt standing outside your door.

You couldn’t turn around because you knew he heard you. Slowly strolling forward. “Hi.” You greet politely.

“Hello, Angel. Please can we talk?” He pleads, smiling at you promisingly.

“Okay…” Opening the door. “Sorry about the mess.” Scattering around to awkwardly tidy around him. 

“I can’t live without you.” He says quietly to the floor.

“Why’s that?” 

“I only love you, I didn’t mean what I said... It was Elektra.” Painfully smiling at you.

“What do you mean?” You meekly ask.

“She threatened you, and I couldn’t let that happen… so I had to let you go- but… I just, I can’t live without you.” 

“I’m confused.”

“I’m sorry for throwing this all on you. I just needed you to know.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I love you. You’re the only person I love… and I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” You ask, a slight pang of sadness in your tone.

“It was Elektra. I couldn’t stand being around her… she just isn’t you.” Walking towards you, opening his arms to offer a hug.

You didn’t have to think about it, melting into his embrace. Squeezing each other tighter and not wanting to let one another go. 

“I’ve missed you.” You mumble into his chest.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Resting his chin on your head while he stroked over your back. “I’m so sorry.”

The door swings open and clatters against the wall. “Where is she?” A female voice shouted.

He spins you both around so that his back was to the woman, holding you in front of him to protect you. 

“We had a deal, Matthew.” She taunts, smashing your photo frames and dropping your vases to the floor. 

“Elektra, please just stop.” He yells, gripping you tighter. 

“I don’t like when people don’t hold up on their part of the deal.” Stalking forward, slashing her dagger into the back of your sofa and tearing it open. “Remember what I said?” She taunts once more, throwing your books and candles against the wall. 

“She’s not a part of this… what can I give you instead? Just please don’t hurt her.” Cocooning your head in his arms, trying his hardest to keep you safe.

“I’m afraid not Matthew. I told you what would happen.” Itching closer to you both. Teasingly brushing her fingers along your hands that were gripping at Matt’s back. She yanks on your arm, separating you apart and pushing you to the floor. Straddling your stomach as she edged her sword along your jaw.

Matt immediately dives to push her from you, dragging her along the floor to get her as far away as possible. 

“Go.” He shouts over to you, panic and fear riddled in his voice.

Sliding yourself away to pull yourself up, gripping the sides of the coffee table for support. 

“You’re quite the fighter sweetheart.” Elektra taunts you, trying to free herself from Matt’s grip. 

She slams him back into the wall behind and runs towards you. Picking up her dagger from the floor and burying it deep in your stomach. Twisting it a couple of times before yanking it out.

Matt stood there paralysed before realising what had just happened. Rushing to your side to hold you, helping you down so you didn’t fall. 

“No no no, what have you done?” He whispers, putting pressure on the wound. “No no.” His voice breaks. “I’m so sorry.” Holding your neck to support you. 

“It's okay.” You say quietly.

“No, it’s not.” A tear falls and lands on your cheek. “Please don’t close your eyes, just wait okay- we’ll get help. Just please hang on.” 

“Someone help!” He shouts, trying to get attention from your neighbours. “Please call an ambulance. She’s losing too much blood, please?” He begs Elektra who was sitting on the armchair indifferently reading a magazine. 

“I love you. So much.” Reaching your hand up to stroke his cheek. 

“Please don’t go, you’re all I have left… hang on just a little more. Help!”

Resting your head on his leg while he placed his other hand on the wound, firmly pressing and trying to stop the excessive bleeding. “Count with me, Angel. One.”

“One.” 

“Two.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Th-“ Your hand dropped from his face.

“No no no, don’t-“ his voice breaks, holding behind your neck as his other hand continued to press onto your stomach. “Please talk to me… We’ll get help, okay?” He reassures you, but he was actually reassuring himself. Leaning over to rest his forehand against yours. “Stay with me, stay with me, stay with me- please? I love you.” Gently shaking your head to keep your eyes open. 

He could feel you slip away, tears freely spilling from his eyes and down onto your face. Holding your cheeks with his bloody hands, trying to keep you conscious. Pulling you closer into his lap and holding you tighter. 

“No no no no.” He mutters against your skin, hearing your last raspy breath before your eyes flutter shut for the last time. 

[vikuo-kuma]

Perfect the way You are

A/N: being bombarded with request 😔

Warning: guaranteed to have sensitive topics, but it will be fluffy, either way if you’re uncomfortable with anything weight related you don’t need to read it, 🙏 (also smh Dot)

Requested

—

You always seem to find yourself staring at any sort of reflection. Whether it would be a mirror or even a window, you were always met with a vision of your younger self, being slightly thicker side. Even though, you had lost weight, your past always seemed to have ways to haunt you. Through the way you eat, through the way dark thoughts always find their way back into your mind.

Nevertheless, you had managed to slowly recover from your way of thinking, through the help of your parents’s support. But one thing still remains the same, it was the portion of food you would eat.

In time, though, your confidence had also improved, it was enough to ask your parents if you could go to school again.

And to your surprise, they allowed you to. Although they had agreed to let you go to school, tears were flowing down your parents’s eyes, finding themselves proud of your improvement on your self image. It was safe to say that they cared a lot about you and your mental health, seeing that your parents had bombarded you with many questions, ‘Would you be ok?!’ ‘Do you know a way to contact us?!’ ‘Update us whenever you can!’.

The usual things concern parents would say. It took you about an hour reassuring them that you were okay, and that they shouldn’t have to worry too much. Eventually they finally left, letting you to go into the school of magic at last.

—

During the months in school, you had made friends, which would then lead to the creation of friend group consisting of Mash, Lance, Lemon, Finn, and Dot. They had truly made you feel comfortable, they had made you feel safe. That safe feeling almost made you forget about your experience from the past. Yet somehow it was brought up once again.

You were at a picnic with the group, enjoying your time and the company they gave you. There was a variety of foods, spread on the table, making your eyes shine brightly. As you were ecstatic, wanting to try each dish that had caught your eyes. So, you grabbed a bite, tasting each delicacy your friends had brought. You haven’t noticed but they were all looking at you, smiling. They were glad they finally got to see you eat, knowing that you usually held in your hungry when it came to hanging out.

But that’s when Dot decided to speak up, “You know.. if you keep eating too much you’re gonna get fat”, with a smirk, it was a friendly gesture but it seems to have triggered something within you.

There was a sudden stop in your motion. Like you suddenly froze, the fork from your hand dropped onto your plate. Fat. That word was repeated over and over again in your head. It was like a key to destroying the wall you build around that experience. You closed your mouth, pursing your lips. Your mind started to cloud itself, filling it with dark thoughts you had pushed away long ago.

“Rig-” “What’s wrong with that?”, a voice had spoken up, interrupting you in the process, it was monotonous, very recognizable. Huh? Your eyes wandered to the sound of the voice. It was Mash, he was munching on a cream puff as he spoke. “I think that’s what makes them unique”, Mash continued to express his thoughts, you had a shock expression resting upon your face. You felt kind of weird, in a good way.

“Mash, I was joking..”, Dot tried to defend himself, but the dark haired male look at him confused. “But aren’t jokes supposed to be funny?”

—

Note: Love yourselves people 👹

[cerise-on-top]

A few days ago, I got a request that asked for Shadow Company and KorTac team up tickles with reader getting wrecked. I posted the Shadow Company fic yesterday, so I'm gonna post the KorTac fic now. This only includes Horangi and König, though.

KorTac Team Up Tickles

You brought your Switch to the base, planning on spending some of your evenings in a comfortable solitude, accompanied only by Italian plumbers, alien puffballs and Hylian heroes. You were quite content, never having been too much of a chatterbox in the first place. You truly preferred the company of fictional characters over that of the tryhards at base. If you weren’t forced to spend time with the others, then you weren’t going to either. No meetings this evening, dinner has already been had, no training scheduled either. It was perfect to just blow off some steam for once. And thus, you pulled out your beloved gaming console, opening Stardew Valley. The life in Pelican Town seemed so utopian, sometimes you wished you could exchange your life as a mercenary for a farm somewhere in the countryside, surrounded by cute bachelors and bachelorettes to date.

Petting your dog, cat and turtle as you poured water into their bowls, you smiled. The cauliflowers were doing well, the animals seemed as content as always, and your spouse was still sleeping in bed. You bought some seeds and immediately planted them. This was the ideal life. Why kill people when you can water crops? Why destroy towns when you can talk to your neighbors? Why bring death and despair to others when you can complete tasks for friendship points and rewards? Even in the mines, you were lucky enough to have found a prismatic shard. Life was good. Completing another bundle, you were in no hurry to do so even though you were in your second year already, you watched the Junimos dance on the screen, reminding you of the plushie you had yet to retrieve. All was peaceful, all was quiet as you ignored the shouting outside of your room. Real life has never interested you much anyway.

And yet, that peace was short lived as your door swung open, before immediately closing again. It could have only been one of two people.

“Have you seen König?”

“Not since dinner.” A short reply, you were busy. If Horangi wanted to be with König so bad, then he could always go look for him somewhere else.

“I’m going to wait here. I know he’ll come by.”

You didn’t take your eyes off your Switch even once, too engrossed in beating some ghosts and skeletons with your sword. “Can you two turtle doves secretly meet somewhere else? I’m in the middle of something right now.”

Horangi huffed in response, amused by your sass. “You’re part of this, whether you like it or not. What are you playing this time? Finally a shooter?” He sat down on your bed, leaning back against the wall as he watched you play. “Seriously? You’re such a boring person. Poker in Mario was much better than that.”

“Ah, the gamer-gambler has spoken. I am happy, though. Can you say the same? Can you say the same when your behemoth boyfriend is chasing you again? Picking you up and throwing you onto my bed? Putting his entire weight on you and crushing you like the pathetic bug you are? Furry boy, I’m only going to say this once: Don’t you ever make fun of my virtual farm. We’re both living a life that expects us to be miserable. We’re both coping in different ways.”

Horangi took off his sunglasses, putting them on your nightstand and placing his head on your shoulder. He watched you intently as you played your little game. For as much displeasure as he voiced about you playing a children’s game, he thought it to be quite calming to watch. It was a nice change of pace from seeing the blood of his comrades. “Put your forked tongue behind your teeth, snake. He’s your boyfriend too. Plus no one suspects us being in your room every evening.”

“Mhm. One day, I’m going to rat you out to our superiors and then you’ll never see me again as I fuck off to a real farm after having been discharged for fraternization. You can visit me. I’m going to make you some sashimi with the fresh fish I’ve pulled ashore.” You put your head on top of Horangi’s. His hair was kind of damp and it smelled of some weird shampoo.

“And then you’re going to go to space and fight some pink fucker?”

“No, he’s my friend. I’m going to fight Satan with him.”

“My bad.” He pulled you closer to him, throwing one of his legs over yours for maximum comfort.

Again, the door opened and closed. Mining iron ore was much more important, though.

“Good evening you two.” The strong German accent was all too familiar, you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. Well, it could have only been one of two people. Horangi was already here, so it could only have been the colonel.

“Evening, König.” You tilted your Switch aggressively as you were swarmed by Dust Sprites, trying to get away from the cute little critters. Now you really wanted to watch Spirited Away with those two goobers.

Horangi didn’t even flinch. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

“Sorry, I was held up in one of our meeting rooms. I should be free for the rest of the evening, though.” Another weight plopped down on your other side, another pair of arms snaked around your chest as another head rested on your other shoulder.

“Don’t worry. Anyway, colonel, you should punish sergeant Kim, he was being mean to me and said that my farm was ugly. I think one million years of being put in a meat grinder should suffice.”

Horangi closed his eyes. “Y/N, I’m going to poison you with a real vegetable.”

König sighed. “I will consider it if you pay attention to us. You’ve been spending a lot of time with your Switch. You’ve been paying more attention to it than us.” He moved away from you for a bit and took off the shirt on his head, taking a deep breath.

“Aha, so my boyfriends are harlots for my attention now, I see how it is. But have you considered that my virtual boyfriends and girlfriends don’t threaten to kill me with a vegetable?”

“So the pixels are superior?” Horangi stroked your stomach with one of his thumbs. Although he could feel it quiver under his touch, he decided to weaponize this later. If you kept on being a dick towards him then he would have no choice but to betray you, however.

“Hong-jin, don’t enable Y/N.” König put his hand over Horangi’s, hoping to stop the way that was going to occur. Yet, he wasn’t going to put much effort into doing, doing less than the bare minimum. As much as he loved you, he would have loved to see where this was going. If he was being a harlot then he’d love to fuck with you just a little bit. He had a feeling that this was going to be fun, more than willing to join in on whatever was bound to happen.

“I can feed the pixels my cooking and they don’t complain.” You were well aware of what you were doing. Horangi and König were too. This was a game you liked to play from time to time when you wanted special attention. You’ve never once regretted it. Neither of them would take offense to you being a little brat like this, they were going to get that attitude out of you for some time anyway. For as much as you pretended to ignore them, it was them who had been neglecting you for some time now, always busy with work. Three could play that game, and thus you decided you’d be acting up yet again. Horangi was a ticking time bomb, the fallout only amplified by König. If you kept this up, you were going to get what you wanted.

“But would your little pixels really treat you better than us, who have had your back in literal wars?” Horangi was tapping away at your stomach as your breath hitched a little bit. So close. König watched, amused by your exchange. He didn’t necessarily need to add anything to it. Taking his hand off Horangi’s, he wrapped his arm around your chest yet again, holding onto your ribs. You were going to pay attention to them soon enough.

“My pixels actually talk to me. Can you say the same, little kitty?” You got a little nervous. Normally, Horangi would have blown by now, but he was holding himself back. You could see your punishment from a mile away. Never before has your exchange been this long. A few words at most, not a full blown conversation. You tried to pull your legs closer to your chest, but König’s hand quickly stopped you from your endeavor. You were in for it this time.

“So this is not enough for you? And you say we’re the attention whores here?” Horangi moved, sitting down on your legs. König was kind enough to take your Switch from your hands and put it on your nightstand. Leaning on his arm, he looked down at you, a small smirk gracing his lips. Horangi’s brows were slightly furrowed, but he seemed entertained regardless. You knew what was coming, swallowing a lump.

“Alright, Hong-jin, maybe you’re right! Maybe this is nice enough after all!”

König bit back some laughter as Horangi raised an eyebrow. You held onto the latter’s hands, intertwining your fingers in his.

“Aw, adorable. Is our little bunny scared? Scared of the ravenous tiger and the colonel?” König was having too much fun already. “Let me have a go first.”

“The stage is yours, colonel.” Horangi scoffed, taking pride in making you surrender despite not even having touched you yet.

König took his sweet time, eyeing you up and down as he considered his first move. He knew from the beginning what he was going to do, but the suspension should kill you on its own. And just like that, he pretended to start the highlight of this little game. Quickly, he moved his hands towards your ribs, but not doing much else, only holding onto them. You, however, squealed, thrashing around as you started laughing already.

“Y/N! Look at me! I’m not even doing anything. Are you really that ticklish? Poor little thing. What do you say, Hong-jin? Should we have mercy on our little bunny?”

“Fat chance.”

You stopped laughing as you locked eyes with König, feeling his hands on your ribs. It was enough to make you want to squirm away. “Well… You were going to tickle me…” You looked so meek and pathetic in your current predicament.

König leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Don’t worry, we’re going to tickle you plenty. Just get com-”

You screeched as Horangi started aggressively squeezing your hips, sides and ribs, trying to get away from him.

“You didn’t even give me a chance to get Y/N good. You’re so unfair.”

“Nothing stopping you from doing so now. Get the armpits, our little prey will stop trying to grab my hands if you do.”

And that König did, matching Horangi in aggressiveness and speed. Naturally, you clamped your arms down, trapping his hands. An unwise decision, but a reflex you couldn’t help. Although you may not have wanted this to stop, enjoying yourself as much as your boyfriends were, you were certain you couldn’t take this forever. In fact, you weren’t even thrashing around, lying almost completely still with the exception of sometimes moving from side to side. Or trying to, rather. Once you had gotten accustomed to the feeling, you were even able to move your shoulders up a little bit, inviting König to reach for another spot as well.

Horangi twisted himself to be able to have easier access to your knees, squeezing them rigorously. As bad as it was, you never kicked your legs. König took notice of you releasing his hands and opted for scratching away at your sides, not wanting to leave them neglected for too long.

“Did your meeting go well? Are you being deployed again soon?”

“Not yet. But don’t worry, I’ll be taking you both with me if I can. They just told me that I should be nicer to the newbies. Not my fault if they’re too incompetent to be here. One of them spilled coffee on our network equipment. How he even got into that room is beyond me.”

“Damn. Sounds like he’ll be in for a rough time. You’re gonna have a word with him? He’s gonna shit his pants, I can tell you that much.”

“Haha, I still remember when we met for the first time. You did seem kind of intimidated by me too.”

“I was considering whether or not I could take you in a fight.”

“What was the conclusion?”

“...Probably not.”

Lovely. Even as they were playing by your rules those two were more obsessed with work than you. Had you not been enjoying yourself you would have smacked them both. König turned to you.

“And about you�� Have you learned your lesson yet? Are you satisfied? Don’t pretend to hate this. This has happened far too many times for you to even slightly dislike it.”

The tickling ceased on both ends for a few seconds, allowing you to catch your breath.

“Can you please keep going for a little bit longer? I’m having a good time. Neither of you need to be anywhere, right?”

König grazed your cheek with his knuckles. “No, we’re both done for the day. We can do this a little bit longer. Right?”

Horangi sighed, squeezing your hand a little bit. “Yeah, we can. You seem pretty tired already, though, so I’ll be a bit more gentle.”

“Thank you. That’s fine by me.”

Putting one of your arms over your eyes, you took one last deep breath before the tickling continued. As Horangi promised, it wasn’t nearly as rough this time, just enough to make you giggle. But the electric shocks running through your body were nothing short of pleasant. König joined in as well soon enough, running his fingers across your underarms. For as little time as they’d spend with you from time to time, they would always try to make it up to you, if just with little things like this. As annoying as they could be at times, they made for some pretty loving boyfriends after all.

This continued for a few more minutes, slowing down more and more until they stopped completely. Horangi got off of you, assuming his previous position. König did too, with both men wrapping their arms around you.

“Sorry for neglecting you like that. I hope you feel a little better now.”

“You could have just asked for our attention. König and I always try to make time for you.”

“I know, but I didn’t want to disturb you either, what you did seemed important. But thank you. I feel a lot better now.”

Horangi glanced over at your Switch. “You wanna continue playing?”

“I think I just wanna sleep for now. But if you want, you can play a little bit.”

König sat up and grabbed it from the nightstand. “I think I wanna give it a go. I can’t really do much wrong, right? Besides, the music is really nice.”

As exhausted as you were, you still had to have the energy to change your position. With König lying in the middle, you lying to his left and Horangi to his right, you and the sergeant cuddled up to the colonel, watching him play a little bit. Completely worn out, with the soundtrack doing nothing to keep you awake either, you just gave him some advice on how he should play the game. It was a quiet evening, but you didn’t mind that as much. At the very least you were being paid attention to again.

[kangaracha]

daffodil + chan

a song

the prompt: daffodil (a god bows before a mortal)

read it on ao3

---

"You have no power over me."

running through his hands like water, and suddenly the earth is not his to control. The skies do not turn with the twist of his head, lightning does not fork in the air when his eyes, dark as night and yet still lit by some unearthly light, fall upon you, his mouth wide as if to gasp for a breath he cannot take-

And yet, still, it shivers down your spine; the magic that draws you here even as you rip it apart, the prize of your conquest to rip the world into two.

"Take it back," he hisses through his teeth, the ground trembling with every syllable that slides down his tongue. You watch his mouth as it forms the words, the flash of teeth behind thin lips reminding you of the way that the swordsman you'd fought through to get here had smiled at you - the last of his seven challenges, the last of his demons, or angels, or citizens of the sprawling, damned city he claimed as his kingdom.

And here you stood, at the pinnacle of the eighth, and stared him in the eye without cringing away because now you knew the truth. Now you knew that what he whispered in the dark was a lie and what you saw with your eyes wasn't always true, and though he may be a god and a king amongst beings that you could never hope to rival, a god can only hold as much power as you give him. A god can only claim dominion over a beast that bowed to his dogma. 

You see now that you are no beast. You are no believer in any lie he utters to the darkness.

"Take it back," he says again, the note of his voice changing. He pleads, his brow furrowing and his shoulders curling in as if waiting for the final blow. "Take it back now, before it's too late."

"I can't," you tell him, and you watch him fall to his knees, and you know that it's wrong and your heart pounds in your chest and it

like the ground does at the impact of his knees, crumbling into the pieces it was in when you first took his hand, alone on the side of the road with only one thing to call your own. And what was that thing, the little warmth you'd held to your chest in the dark and the cold? What had you traded away for the comfort of the house that crumbled around you now? Why had you destroyed him to get it back, where was it now, why did it not appear within his hands at this, the hour of his reckoning?

"Please," he spits into the cold ground, the dirt and the leaves and the curl of ivy that grows up the walls around you, old and ancient and not yet sprouted from its roots all at the same time. His hands curl in the dirt like he can reach down and pull the earth to him, like he can stop the wane of his power if he just tries to hold on a little bit tighter. "I know what you want, and I don't have it. I can't lose-"

Broken, fragile thing. Small god of limited earth, crouched at your feet like he might worship you instead. You'd thought him all-powerful once, and then you'd thought him severe and his servants and beasts and playthings petty, and then you'd thought him

because he'd smiled at you in the garden that bloomed from his own hands when you expressed your desire for a flower to tuck in the braid of your dark hair, and his hand had been soft in yours, and when he looked out across his kingdom and the clamouring faces of the people he'd brought to live there, he'd looked at them the same way that he'd looked at you.

Beneath your foot, the ground cracks, fracturing outwards like a spiderweb. It's your heart, you realise morosely, sinking from your chest and into the depths of the earth, disappearing with whatever he'd taken from you; and it was a wretched thing and it had betrayed you a hundred times over, but you still mourn at the loss of it and all the dreams it had carried with it. It blooms in your flowers in the corners of the room, embeds itself into the land and sings along with the song of his power, a thing you can hear but cannot touch, a beast once born that now does not belong to you.

"I'm sorry," he says, his breath like mist in the cold air, and even without your heart, you can't bear to see him so cold.

Your hands reach for him without permission, your body kneeling in the dirt before you can stand your feet firm upon the earth and refuse to move. He flinches away, but your fingers are soft upon his chin and the curve of his jaw, gentle when they brush the soft dip of his neck. "I only wanted to know what it was," you tell him with a voice that cannot hold itself steady. "I thought if you loved me, you would give it back." It's the only voice you have - you are not like him, or like Felix, speaking with many tongues. You don't have any power of your own.

"It's because I love you that I can't give it back." His voice is hoarse, every word a knife that he swallows without ever once flinching. "It's because I love you that I couldn't tell you what it was."

"But didn't I deserve to know?" you question. "Doesn't my life belong to me?"

Finally, his eyes rise, looking up at you with a fire that belies the cold of his skin. "Of course it does," he gasps, and his hand reaches up, dirt-stained fingers dragging at your cheek. "That's why I gave it to you, and I never asked for anything else."

"But you wouldn't give back what you took in the first place."

The sudden violence of his voice crumbles the walls and fractures the sky, the clouds blooming te dark colours of a bruise. The absence of his hand on your cheek stings in the cold; his face turns away, screwed up in regret and a pain he won't allow you to feel. You lurch forward before he can disappear, drawing him into your arms; stiff shoulders, spine of beaten steel, slow beat of a heart you once held in your hands. 

He'd stood so tall and unmoving in the morning light, when you'd first walked down this path, and now in the dark of the setting sun and the ending of the earth, his weight slumps into your grasp, his resolve melting into the warmth of your body. "I didn't want you to suffer again," he says to the soft cotton of your shirt and the curve of your collarbone, his breath a whisper against your skin. "I couldn't watch that, when you asked me to make sure it would never happen again."

Surprise comes in the pause of your breath and the still of your arms, the jump of a heart you're not sure you still possess. "I asked you to make me forget?" you question the world behind his back, and into your neck, he sighs.

"You couldn't forget," he murmurs. "She was dead before I found you, and when I took her from your arms - you couldn't forget. There was nothing I could do to fix what had been broken. And then you begged me to let you forget, so I remembered her for you." He pauses, his throat hitching like he's swallowing something down. A sob maybe, or the tears he will never let fall. "I can't give her back though. She's not here anymore."

You push him upright, your hands on his shoulders, his neck, his face. Brushing away the hair that falls in his eyes, wiping at the blood that drips from the cut on his cheek. "Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, because the answer is incomprehensible. "Why did you let me go this far?"

"Because I was scared," he admits, and his teeth clench and his spine stiffens against the urge to hide away from you again. "Because I'm a wretched, evil, stupid thing who thinks they can-"

His words die in your throat; vile, wretched things that you store away to spit out later, into the ground where they belong. He is none of that; he is soft, and hesitant, until your fingers find the sharp curve of his hip and the lines of his back, dragging him closer and his lips open like there is nothing in the world to devour but you and

[dgrailwar]

Round Δ, Day 1 - ALL TEAMS

Wonderful work on the quiz, Masters! If we had more time I'd test your thaumaturgical knowledge, but I'd rather not waste any further time.

Okay… let me try this again.

Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. The ancestor is my great master ■■■■■■■■.

Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall, let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate.

Fill, Fill, Fill, Fill, Fill. Repeat five times but when each is filled destroy it. Then, set.

Heed my words, my will creates your body, and your swords creates their destiny. If you heed the Grail Call and obey my will and reason then answer me!

I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world. That I shall defeat all Evil in the world.

Seventh Heaven clad in the Great Words of Power.

From the Binding Circle vow… Guardians of the Scales…!

Seven forms made themselves manifest...

The Extra Class of Boundless Madness, the True Foreigner.

The Extra Class of Sinless Fate, Funny Vamp.

The Extra Class of Nameless Shadow, Faker.

The Extra Class of Scorching Power, Launcher.

The Extra Class of Impenetrable Defense, Shielder.

The Extra Class of Azure Freedom, Traveler.

The Extra Class of Infernal Judgement, Gatekeeper.

The world had not been set to a proper point. Instead, it was crumbling ruins in front of a crimson sky. Deadly, primordial, and unsettling in turn. The Servants crackled with magical power, drawing upon the ether in the air itself, relishing in being born again.

The Overseer, in a moment of confusion, swiftly realized that something had went wrong.

...Oh. This is not right at all. Those are from… hrm. Well, Masters. Do not panic. I shall swiftly--

The first Servant spoke, the Foreigner, clearly excited to be summoned.

"Oh, so you're the Masters? Nice to meet you, you can call me 'Yuyu'! Mm? Gunner isn't here? Where'd he go?"

I should probably reset the world again. It'll just take a moment. I'll go prepare another quiz--

The Gatekeeper, hand on her blade, removed a sliver from it from the sheath. It was enough to make the room run cold with the chill of the underworld, before she spoke.

"Hold. You and the ancient ones would use us as both potential foes and tests, correct? I don't have much issue with the idea, but I haven't had a chance to sharpen my sword against equals."

"I agree with the missy. I've been meanin' to put this spear to use. You said you need some time to make sure everything is set, right? So what's the harm? Run the numbers or whatever as we spar?"

The Launcher, smiling, drew his own spear in agreement.

"A spar... to the death, then. We can act as a 'stress test' for the system."

"Oh my, are you sure you want to go for that, Launcher? I'm pretty quick on my feet."

The witch commented, her eyes already expressing that she was beginning to form intense calculations within her head.

"Ah, I'm not expectin' much support, considering these Masters killed me without much hesitation, but I'm not saying no to the thrill of the fight."

"How odd. In a way that I can't place, I find myself finding them familiar… have we met?"

…Oh, fine.

I'll let this happen, but only for a short while. Then, you all return to 'her', and I put everything back in place. CORRECTLY, this time. I suppose this would be a bit more exciting than another quiz… though I did work rather hard on it for having to push it out so quickly…

We'll consider this an 'extra round'! Masters, prepare yourselves!

[heartfullofleeches]

clyde nsfw headcannons???

what’s he mainly into

Rabit-

Clyde's a virgin and hasn't really explored things in a sexual nature before as he hasn't had the time nor real interest in anyone before you. That being said-

Crossdressing/Cosplay - I've mentioned in another post that he dresses up and pretends to be people who know other members of the cafe to damage their rep, but he enjoys it on his own as well. It's mainly characters from medias he enjoys, but for you he wouldn't mind wearing a maid dress or one of those bunny outfits. Likes things that show off his major assets like stockings or tight fitting outfits

Master/servant: He already calls you master on the daily, so it makes sense it transfers to the bedroom. Leash him. Make him clean your shoes with his tongue. Spit down his throat. The bunny has no limits long as you call him your good rabbit.

Painplay: Nothing too major. Just a little smack across his thighs, chest or face will leave him shaking in a good way. Your bare hand is fine, but he's not opposed to a whip or paddle. Tugging him closer by his ears will have him rutting against you and begging for more of whatever you have to offer

Praise: As one could guess he's a sucker for words and action of comfort. He'll fork his entire life over to you for just one "good boy". He will let you absolutely destroy him and tear down his walls of sanity, only if you pick up the pieces afterwards and hold him close

Aftercare: While he enjoys receiving it as well, Clyde prefers helping you wind down after each session. Running you a bath, lathering you in expensive lotions and giving you massages. This is upped when he's in heat as his shy personality takes back seat and he can come a real freak

[alexanderlightweight]

do you remember that dragon magnus au? if so could you please do a sequel to it?

yup! not all that glitters is gold and here is a tidbit for it!

i hope you enjoy

lumine

-

Alec shrugs as he stretches in the cashmere sweats and silk shirt that Magnus procured for him. They fit comfortably, but Alec can’t imagine they’re going to last for long, not with Magnus’ appetite.

“Alexander,” Magnus rumbles behind him, his muzzle pressing close and Alec turned, pressing a soft kiss of greeting to Magnus’ maw. There’s a pleased rumble and then he’s being nudged so that Magnus has better access to him.

Alec bites back a whine as Magnus jostles him against the wall, trapping him between cool rocks and warm scales.

“Magnus, you’re back later than you said.” Alec gets out, and it’s all he gets out because a tail is lifting up his shirt. Magnus’ forked tongue gently licks the rings on Alec’s chest and then Alec is being lifted up as Magnus heads towards the surface.

It’s rare that Magnus lets Alec out of whatever pocket dimension he’s been stashed in, so it’s with curiosity that Alec drapes himself over Magnus back. 

Alec has never felt less in control than when he’s riding Magnus and while it’s terrifying, it’s also enthralling. Especially when Magnus uses his magic to keep Alec safe and from any possibility of falling as he soars through the sky.  Alec never recognizes any landmarks and he’s stopped trying, giving up to enjoy the sensations and intimacies of flight with Magnus.

They stop on a cliff and Alec thinks that’s it, until Magnus is there with his hands on Alec’s hips and Alec’s back against a tree. Sharp, claiming teeth bite at Alec’s lips and Alec groans, suddenly relieved that he’d begged Magnus not to start any of his games before they’d left.

“Magnus—” he reminds quietly, hopefully and he’s ignored as claws tighten on his hips and Alec sighs, giving up these clothes as a loss once again.  It doesn’t really matter, he reminds himself as Magnus licks into his mouth and Alec whines despite himself.  Eventually Magnus will remember how much he hates finding Alec new clothes and will stop ruining the things he does allow.

Alec can’t be bothered, he finds, not when Magnus is kissing him like this and he tastes like the rage of a storm and the warmth of a hearth.

“The shadowhunters keep looking for you.” Magnus says finally and his voice is a deep rumble that shakes through Alec, “we talked about this, Alexander.”

Alec shakes his head, because Magnus doesn’t need to destroy the Institute and if he does that, it will be and all out war with the clave.

“If you can’t convince me by tomorrow, something will be done.” Magnus promises him and then he growls, golden eyes gleaming as he glares over the side of the mountain. “I do not allow threats to my hoard to exist, Alexander. Ever.”

[futurehunt]

hii requesting azris drabble 20 or 46 :) tyy

46- Azris kiss out of jealousy 🤭

me: send me drabbles

also me: writes way more than a drabble

18+! mature more than explicit but still slightly smutty, minors dni 😝

ended up posting onto AO3 for funsies if you'd rather read there

Azriel does not fidget.

He was a battle-hardened warrior with centuries of training in stoicism– he knew better than to fidget.

But, by the fourth time the Raskian dignitary left a lingering hand squeezing Eris's shoulder, Azriel found his legs jittering with frantic energy, hands squeezing rhythmically– imagining crushing that olive-skinned hand until bones crunched.

The collective murmur of the crowd echoed around the Great Hall, bouncing off the soaring arched ceiling and blanketing Azriel in its inescapable din.

"This is my spymaster, Azriel." He could hear his brother's garbled voice through the racket to his right, drawing Azriel's attention away from the sight of Eris and the dignitary leaning in close to one another.

Azriel couldn't erase the scowl from his face as Rhysand introduced him to a Monteseren nobleman, if the emerald and silver embellished robes were any indication.

"Wow." The male gawked at Azriel as if he were a roadside attraction, leaning in to Rhysand to ask, "Where did you get him from?"

His brothers eyes shot wide as the moon. Not giving the conversation a chance, Azriel stalked away with a growl– doing his reputation of being an animal no favors.

Shadows thrashing around him, the crowd parted for Azriel in fear.

He had been a staunch advocate for this– a grand soirée between Prythian and empires on the Continent, a joining of peoples to put the past behind them. With Koschei destroyed and power wrestled, at last, from Briyallan's clutches, tenuous peace had settled between the humans and the fae. Under Queen Vassa's guidance, this gathering had been organized at her castle with every court of Prythian and the Continent invited to attend.

Azriel regretted it now, fully intend to go hide within his chambers until the event had finished for the night.

He chanced one last glance back, searching for Eris's vibrant red hair among the sea of muted browns and blondes. The Raskian official that'd been drooling over the Autumn High Lord now stood alone, looking forlorn. Eris? Gone.

With a huff, Azriel resumed the trek back to his room.

It had made his skin crawl to see the greasy human draping himself across Eris. Eris Vanserra was a High Lord– a title that deserved respect no matter how much Azriel despised the male that held it, and that human had been acting as if Eris were no more than a for-hire courtesan sent there to please.

Shortly after exiting the Great Hall, the hallway forked and Azriel veered left towards the Night Court's collection of rooms.

Back, his shadows whispered. The other way.

"What?" Azriel whispered.

The other way, they repeated.

Azriel backtracked, curious, and followed the hallway to the right.

His footsteps bounded off the carved limestone walls, sound bouncing ahead and leading the way. This must be the private wing, Azriel presumed, its walls less laden with ostentatious memorabilia. Thick clouds outside hid the moon from sight, leaving wall-mounted braziers providing the only pockets of dancing firelight to guide Azriel down the hallway.

Behind the tapestry, his shadows said.

As if on cue, a tapestry, as tall as him twice over, emerged from the darkness. It had a lush, hilly landscape sewed onto its surface. In the center, a murky black lake with a red winged bird gliding across its surface.

Azriel ripped back the side of the tapestry and found, hiding within an alcove, Eris.

Eris, who'd been leaning casually back against the stone-stacked wall, jolted up, brows shot high at the sight of Azriel. A lone ball of fire, like produced by Eris, hung in the air above him, gently illuminating the small space.

"How did you find me?" Eris spluttered.

"Waiting for someone?" Azriel growled. That's all this could be– a clandestine rendezvous with Raskian dignitary. Why else would Eris be sequestered away within the private wing of Vassa's palace.

"Not that I'm aware of?" Eris said rising to his full height, only an inch shy of Azriel.

Azriel scoffed in disbelief.

"Oh," Eris drawled, a coy smile spreading across his face. "Don't think I didn't see you watching me all night, shadowsinger. I could practically smell your jealousy from across the ballroom."

"Jealousy?" Azriel gaped in shock.

Eris continued, "You won't act on your desire for me but no one else can have me, is that it?"

"Desire?!" Azriel repeated in disbelief. "I desire you as much as I would a toad."

With a chuckle, Eris said, "You must be really attracted to toads."

Azriel growled and turned to leave.

"I am waiting for someone, actually." Eris's words stopped him in his tracks. "You know, I figured– what better way to strengthen relations with the human of the Continent than to... partake in relations with humans of the Continent."

Whipping around, aghast, Azriel searched Eris for any signs of deceit. "You're joking."

"I don't joke," Eris said haughtily. "You should leave. He'll be here soon and I don't need your presence ruining anything."

Azriel's gaze flickered down the hallway, he saw no one and heard no footsteps. Letting the tapestry drape closed behind him, Azriel stepped into the alcove.

Even with the tapestry down, he could still hear the echo of the crowd in the Great Hall.

All it took was two steps for Azriel to have Eris backed flat against the wall. A heartbeat later, his arm wrapped around the Autumn High Lord and pulled the male flush against him, capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

The first joining of their lips was slow, sucking, and exploratory. Eris tasted of cinnamon spiced liquor and sweet walnuts.

Soon, their manic longing caught up with the pace of the mouths.

Azriel's mind melted.

The only sensation he registered was the soft glide of Eris's lush lips against his own, dancing together in desperate desire. He swallowed the choked groan Eris released into his mouth as the male pressed every inch of their bodies together.

Why hadn't Azriel done this sooner?

His skin burned everywhere they touched, his heart galloped painfully in his chest.

Azriel needed more. Now.

Tilting his head to deepen the kiss, Azriel slid his tongue into Eris's mouth, memorizing his intoxicating taste.

Pulling back to catch his breath, Azriel asked between pants, "You said he's meeting you here?"

"Yes." Eris's pale skin was flushed a rosy pink.

"That's too bad for him." Azriel crept his hands under Eris's shirt to glide along his taut abdomen. "Because he's going to be very disappointed to find me fucking you up against this wall, instead."

Eris's voice was breathless, yet more composed than Azriel wished, as he said, "Against the wall? You're overconfident."

"No, I'm not." With a sturdy grip on the back of Eris's thighs, Azriel hiked the male up, thanking the Mother for centuries of training that made the lift feel effortless.

Wrapping Eris's legs securely around his waist, Azriel leaned in to the male's ear and said, "Tell me you want this."

Eris huffed but said nothing, mouth hinged slightly open and eyes glazed.

Azriel pressed tight into the crux of Eris's thighs and ground against the hardness he found there, managing to suppress a moan at the friction. Unlike him, Eris failed at holding back a whimper.

"Eris, I'm not doing anything until you beg." Azriel whispered before recapturing the male's mouth. They made out in silence, hips rocking against one another, original intention evaporated from Azriel's mind– his sole focus drawing more broken moans from Eris.

Pulling free tightly knotted laces, Azriel slid his hands inside Eris's waistband to grab two hand-fulls of the male's ass. As Azriel massaged the butter-soft skin, squeezing it to its limit, he'd occasionally slide an exploratory finger down to tease Eris's tightness. Every time his finger glided over, Eris's long legs would squeeze around Azriel's waist, using the force to pull their bodies closer.

On the fifth passover, Eris broke free from Azriel's lips, heaving, and begged, "Fuck me, Azriel. Please, fuck me."

"Yes," Azriel moaned eagerly in affirmation.

Shucking Eris's pants up his thighs so that it exposed enough of the male's ass, Azriel trailed his lips down the pillar of his pale neck, sucking deep bruises into the skin.

Fingers twisted in his hair as Eris rasped, "I said, fuck me."

In a haze, Azriel fumbled with a vial of oil his shadows deposited into his palm and made quick work of slicking up his fingers. He circled Eris's heat, egged on by the male's muttered encouragements. They kissed with manically, barely repressed smiles making it hard to maintain a rhythm. Just as he was about to dip a finger into Eris, Azriel paused.

Too late, with no forewarning from his shadows, Azriel registered the clack of footsteps in the hallway outside the tapestry. And, before he could do more than rip his mouth away and gape at Eris in shock, the tapestry was yanked back, flooding light from the hallway braziers into the alcove.

Shadows burst forth, surrounding Eris and blocking him from view.

Azriel dropped Eris from his arms, guiding his legs down so he didn't fall, and double checking that shadows shrouded him entirely, before turning to face the bewildered face of the Raskian dignitary.

The male stared at them, dumbstruck.

"Get out," Azriel growled, cobalt siphons flaring in warning.

That was all it took to send the Raskian scampering away, tapestry dropping to cloak them once more.

Azriel whipped to face Eris, shadows dissipating. "You were serious? You were actually meeting him here?"

"I told you, I don't joke," Eris replied.

Snarling, Azriel pressed Eris back into the wall, plundering his lips with white-hot kisses, set on erasing every thought of the Raskian male until all the existed in Eris's mind was Azriel.

[sehtoast]

From Ashes to Home (Depowered Homelander x OC)

18+

Word Count: 6.6k

Summary: Some ghosts aren't meant to be found, but the case of Homelander's mother is one that deserves to be revealed. He deserves a chance to know what's left of her. Chapter 11 of All of You is Left to Love. Not plot dependent.

Warnings: Smut if you squint, parental death themes, he's finally allowed to grieve. Vought's catalog of inflicted horrors.

OC: Benjamin Colyer (The Boys-verse Spider-Man)

Special thanks to @theonlymanintheskyisme for beta reading <3

Fic Directory

I just… I wish I knew anything about her.

Those words echoed in Ben’s mind for days on end, endlessly looping in that sad, defeated whisper. Somehow, the subject of Homelander’s parentage came up, and, well…

It always was a tender topic.

He hated the way John bit back his tears. The way he hid himself behind an air of indifference lest he let the last pillar of his defenses crumble to dust.

Even now, after all this time, he still struggled to really let it out. But Ben always knew. Could always tell by the twitch of Homelander’s lip, the scrunch of his nose, the way he wouldn’t blink as a way to hold back his tears.

He made a silent promise to find all that he could as he held Homelander that night. Each brush of his hand through his once god-like lover’s hair a vow to find something, anything that could bring him closer to the mother he never knew.

Every day that followed, Ben found himself more and more consumed by ideas on how to find her. Would he have to bribe someone? Money was certainly no worry. Would he have to intimidate people? Most likely, but it wasn’t particularly hard to get the staff in Vital Records to shit their pants.

Would he have to march into Stan’s office and make more demands?

Luckily, being the new head of The Seven came with many perks, even more so for actually being liked by the staff at Vought Tower.

What little information referenced John’s parentage only directly named Soldier Boy, who'd already revealed himself as Homelander’s father. Granted, that information was updated by Homelander himself after it came to light. Prior to that, the line for the father's name had been blank.

Perhaps sperm donor was a better title... He hadn't exactly been father of the year when he tried to go nuclear– much less a decent grandfather for leaving Ryan battered.

Ben admittedly had a chuckle over their shared first name, but he found it incredibly odd that Vought named the mother by a code.

1-G.

Benjamin spent several hours a day in the record center’s library of paper files. Many of them were scheduled to be destroyed after being recreated digitally, but it’d take an army to copy and sort decades of documents. He had plenty of time, and he’d rummage through every filing cabinet in the room if that’s what it would take to find even the slightest scrap of information about John’s mother.

The wall crawler drove himself mad trying to work off that one piece of information.

1-G. A code? A title? A fucking label designation for some petri dish somewhere?

Each night, he went back home to Homelander. Each night, he had to pretend to have been out prowling the streets for miscreants instead of playing librarian. He’d come home with dinner, sit down with Homelander, and pick at his food as each disgusting secret he’d uncovered entangled itself into his waking mind.

“What’s wrong?”

Ben jumped, looking up at Homelander with wide eyes and a piece of spaghetti dangling from his lips.

“That! That right there.” John pointed accusingly with his fork. “You’re not telling me something. What’s going on?”

“Nothin’,” the web-head shook his head. “Just– work’s been a lot lately, y’know? Stan’s a bastard, the team is acting up... Same headache, different day.”

Homelander’s eyes narrowed at him, suspicion nestled deep inside those beautiful blues.

“Bullshit! You’re not eating lately and you’re sure as fuck not talking. Did– Are you mad at me?” John pushed away from the table, standing. “You haven’t said more than five words since you got in.”

“Johnny,” Ben sighed, lowering his head. “I’m not mad, I just… I’m just really caught in my head right now, okay?”

“Right, right.” Homelander rolled his eyes, grabbing his carryout container. “Whatever. Talk to me when you feel like it, I guess. I’ll just give you your space.” Dejected bitterness laced every word.

Ben lacked the steam to chase him to the bedroom and talk some sense into him. Fuck, he could barely do it for himself, let alone John. So, he let the pot simmer. Cleaned up around the house and showered to kill some time before meandering back to their room.

Homelander had shut off all the lights and curled up close to the edge of the bed, blankets obscuring his form. Ben wondered if his love was actually asleep, or just hiding in the only way he knew how anymore.

A pang of guilt hit his heart.

It’d been roughly two weeks since he started rummaging through Vought’s archives, and quite likely two weeks since he’d paid enough attention to Homelander.

Ben eased into bed, curling around Homelander’s ‘sleeping’ form. He didn’t move to pull the covers away, opting instead to let love keep a layer of protection between himself and a source of pain. He knew times like these only stoked the paranoia that one day John would wake to an empty bed and home. That Ben would up and leave him after finding someone better, or realizing he wasn't worth the effort.

Something that would simply never happen.

Benjamin nuzzled close, lips hovering right above John’s covered ear.

“I’m not mad at you…” He began. “I promise, Johnny. I’m not. I just… It’s a lot to explain. I’ve got this… project that I’m working on. It’s really important, but I’m finding so many fucking horrors from Vought in the meantime that I just…”

He breathed a heavy sigh.

“It’s taking a lot out of me. That with everything else I see in a day, and… it’s a lot, y’know?”

Ben paused, waiting to see if Homelander would shuffle out from under the blankets. When he didn’t, Benjamin continued.

“I love you. I’m sorry if I worried you.”

He shifted away from Homelander, opting to give him space instead of smothering him. It took only a few moments for that bundle of blankets to shuffle his way. A hand snaked out from underneath, fingers joining with Ben’s.

The wall crawler shifted onto his side and pulled John closer.

No words were exchanged for the rest of the night. Ben dozed off with ease while Homelander fought against his drowsiness to bask in the moment. The rise and fall of Benjamin’s chest against his head, the steady beats of his heart.

He adored his little spider more than anything in the world. Even the slightest thought of losing Benjamin was enough to send him spiraling into paranoia and rampant imaginings of worst case scenarios. It’d been two years since he lost his powers, and every day he wondered if Ben would finally decide he wasn’t worth keeping around. Every day he had to remind himself that the wall crawler loves him. That he was more than the house pet his alter ego dubbed him as.

Where would he even be without his Benjamin?

Would he even be alive? Would he have made it out of that containment cell? Would he have survived another week of torture before that guard simply killed him?

Would there be a roof over his head, or the promise of regular meals? A warm bed and a devoted soul with whom to share it?

Would he have someone to protect him now that he couldn’t fend for himself?

Every swirling thought made him realize no, he wouldn’t.

He'd still be in the bad room. He'd likely be dead. Starved or beaten to death, surely. Tortured every single day until he succumbed.

But, god above, that only meant it would make sense if Ben grew tired of him - weak mess of a man that he was now.

Despite the storm of what-ifs pulsating in his mind, John dozed off fairly fast once he laid his head upon Ben’s chest. When he woke, his body was enveloped in heat– some areas more than others.

He was on the brink as soon as his eyes fluttered open.

He lifted the covers to peek, and the sight alone of Ben swallowing him triggered his release instantly, leaving him a writhing, panting mess.

“You,” Ben licked the length of his softening shaft, “and I are due for a date, sir. I called off. We have the whole day.”

Benjamin made good on his word, devoting the entire day to Homelander. He’d barely even thought about his little side project while they were out.

The dying warmth of an early September breeze swept around them as the pair passed all sorts of eateries. The openness of the streets in Queens kept Homelander’s nerves at bay, but John still struggled quite a bit with entering crowded spaces– especially stores. The smaller they were, the more his mind would linger on memories of both his childhood cell and the… other one. But, Benjamin’s presence, along with the duty of carrying the grocery basket, made it a smidge less stressful to accomplish their trip.

“Proud of you,” Ben nudged his shoulder as they walked home, each carrying a paper bag of goods. “Seriously. I hope you know how great it is to see you do all this.”

He couldn’t help but grin despite how vulnerable he really felt. He was like an open wound in public. Exposed, waiting for someone to pick at him or throw salt his way. What if someone recognized him?

What if someone realized the shame of his current state, and he was plastered on the screen of every device with internet access?

Hell, probably every newspaper, too.

Homelander Spotted Looking Half Homeless! is what he imagined the headlines would read. Though he began to allow Ben to trim his hair, he still found himself feeling subpar in appearance. Be it the weight he’d gained, or his casual clothing, he just wouldn’t be The Homelander anymore.

Christ, what if someone asked him to use his powers?

He took deep breaths as they turned another corner, counting each step as they made their way closer to home. By the time the front door closed behind them, he’d about reached his breaking point.

Ben, however, wasted no time in distracting him with banter and meal prep duties.

“Don’t cut yourself again,” the web-head warned as he sorted through pots and pans.

“Not my fault,” John countered, hand idly rolling a bell pepper along the length of the cutting board. “You showed me doing it fast, so I went fast.”

“Yes, babe. But I have actual experience with cooking.”

By the time they could leave the rest of the work up to the oven, the pair had made their way to the couch. John’s legs were strewn over Ben’s lap as he watched TV. Benjamin, however, had pulled out his laptop to browse that barebones document he’d found on John’s parentage.

The sight of the Vought logo snagged Homelander’s attention like a moth to a flame.

“Just that project I’m working on.” Ben hummed coolly, praying to whatever gods there may be that John wouldn’t press the issue. “Mostly just paperwork.”

Suddenly, an idea struck him.

“Hey, unrelated...” He began, hoping the little lie would go unnoticed– mostly because he didn’t want to admit to what he’d been doing and get John’s hopes up just to dash them with inevitable disappointment. “I was poking around in the paper archives the other day.”

Make up a new number… He’s definitely seen it before.

“3-F as a name placeholder mean anything to you? Like, is it a code or something?”

John’s brow pinched, and he sat silent for a while, raking through memories of decades of Vought propaganda and genuine fact.

“I think…” He trailed off. “I haven’t seen it in a while, but I’m pretty sure that’s how the first supe trial volunteers were categorized. There weren’t massive amounts of people signing up to get injected with V– if you can imagine.”

Ben quirked a brow as his brain raced to connect the dots.

“It was part of keeping their identities off the record, too. Liabilities and all that. Last I heard, all the files on ‘em were shredded once they got what they were looking for.” he continued, brows pinched. “Some fucked up shit went on there. Why?”

“I, uh…” Ben sighed. “Saw it in place of a name in one of the paper docs I pulled the other night. It’s just been bugging me.”

“Deep rabbit hole there.” John sighed, leaning back. “I couldn’t find anything besides the bullshit when I dug out Soldier Boy's old archives. Same thing when I… tried to find my mom– ‘cept everything on her was long gone. Whoever’s on that paper of yours is probably a ghost by now. Literally and figuratively.”

Ben swallowed thickly. Chances are that this 1-G person is certainly dead by now.

John’s mother was certainly dead by now.

But he wouldn’t jump to conclusions until it was time. Just as Ben was about to remote to his work terminal, the oven timer went off.

“Thank god.” John whined. “Staaaarving!”

Over the following weeks, Ben had become wholly consumed by the motivation to find anything about John’s mother. He’d dug through the paper archives every chance he could, even going as far as enlisting some help, but there was nothing.

Ben began to believe there was no trail to follow when one of the staffers he’d paid to assist emailed him a scan of a very old, yellowed notepad.

Pretty sure I found something, the email read. It’s hazy, but it looks like notes from old trial runs. Found it in a junk folder of blurry scans from one of the old ward doctors. Gonna keep looking for more.

True to her word, the staffer even went and drew an arrow to the section she’d found. Instead of 1-G, this Doctor James Waltz person wrote it as ‘Patient 1-G: Gillman.’ The writing was barely legible under the color of a coffee stain, but it was more than Ben had to go off of mere minutes before.

Gillman.

Ben immediately replied to the staffer, practically begging her to send anything else in that file– or at least give him details on where to find it. Blurry or not, he wanted everything he could get his hands on.

It was the gold mine he’d been looking for.

Despite the poor image quality and faded ink, Ben was able to find significant amounts of information on the initial test subjects for Compound V. He had to dive deep through hundreds of file folders to find anything about them– which left him concluding that someone hid these rather than follow the original order to destroy them.

The name Gillman had been his golden ticket. He’d found the liability waiver she signed, partially torn, left with only ‘illman’ remaining on the line – but still distinctly the same name. Ben cursed the record keeper of that era to hell for adding to his frustration.

It seemed everywhere he looked– old genetics testing records, ability documentation, and experimentation records, she was simply dubbed 1-G. All he wanted– needed was a first name. From there, maybe he could track her through public records beyond Vought, but there was nothing.

Except for the harrowing details in her record, that is. Despite the lack of a first name, Ben was able to piece together patient files with mention of her to create quite a… horrifying picture.

Enough to leave him sick to his stomach.

The Doctor Waltz fella who’d been all too kind and revealed her last name also had been to her what Vogelbaum was to John– if not a thousand times worse.

Downright evil, even.

Not every patient survived the Compound V trials. An exceptionally small number of them made out like kings, sporting powers with zero side effects. They’d received the same strain Soldier Boy was given.

Ben considered the dead to be far luckier than those who landed somewhere in the middle.

The unsuccessful strains of V had one of three outcomes: instant death, powers that killed the wielder shortly afterward, or– in the case of John’s mother– the body survives empowerment, but the mind does not.

His mother was left in a state of rageful madness.

As Benjamin pieced together mangled papers and deciphered blurred writing, he was able to construct a vague idea of what happened to her.

Roughly one day after injection, she’d come back to report malaise, but was written off by the doctors. By the second day, Vought had brought her back and contained her in a special cell.

Patient aggression exceptionally high. Engages with hallucinations. Refuses to eat and will not speak to psychological team. Containment failing, recommend sedation.

Notes following were conveniently lost, but picked up roughly two months later. Only problem being that they were almost entirely illegible from what seemed like water damage.

Because of course they’d be damaged.

What was left of her patient reports painted a devastating picture.

Homelander’s mother became a ward of Vought. She’d been the only subject to lose herself that Vought caught before she could come to harm. Waltz had found her ripe for experimentation after studying her abilities. They’d opted for round the clock sedation.

Keep her docile.

Flight, strength, and laser vision were among the descriptors they used. Damn near identical to Homelander’s abilities– lacking his invulnerability. A modern mind could look at this and realize that, along with Ryan’s inheritance of John’s powers, this meant there did exist a genetic component to the development of superpowers in those injected with V.

That understanding, though, was only a theory for Waltz back then.

–breed a new line of heroes.

Subject tissue sent for testing.

The possibilities … ……. mother of modern supes.

–extraction of eggs–

It didn’t take an exceptionally bright mind to realize what had happened to her. A shiver ran down Ben’s spine as he read more and more.

They’d used her as a fucking incubator for their experimental ‘purebred’ supes. For years, she was kept like cattle– artificially inseminated with sperm from promising supes until they’d written off her ability to carry children. After that, they simply harvested her eggs and used an undisclosed method of growing the fetuses to term.

The list of failed subjects was…

It was far too long.

Before Vogelbaum, there was Waltz.

Vogelbaum was not the father of the method by which John came to exist– but he was the first doctor to achieve a perfect creation.

Waltz had the blood of children on his hands. Infants, toddlers. Children beaten to death in combat tests. Children drowned in aquatic efficiency tests. A new subject every five to ten years, it seemed.

Killed in surgical procedures.

Destroyed by their own powers.

Murdered by a madman’s curiosity.

All of them lacking that one thing that made John the exception that he was.

Invulnerability.

Well, that and DNA infused with Compound V.

Waltz retired before his project saw success, passing on the mantle of monster to Jonah Vogelbaum.

Fuck, Homelander may not have even been Vogelbaum’s first subject…

The last note Waltz ever made on John’s mother was in 1986. A new hire slipped up during an operation on her brain.

She died that same day.

It had been the shock of a lifetime when, upon scrolling the dwindling remainder of Waltz's notes, he stumbled upon a faded polaroid. Though it was hazy, there was no denying what he was seeing.

Laid back in a reclined medical chair was an older woman. Long, gray hair. A gaunt face. Expression void of anything. IV lines leading into her arms reflected the flash of the camera.

If he squinted hard enough to combat the blur, Ben could thoroughly see a resemblance. He'd know that face anywhere– those big blue eyes, high cheekbones, thin lips. The curved bridge of her nose.

God, John looked just like her.

And now?

He’s all that’s left of her.

What they’d done with her remains was a mystery, but Benjamin almost didn’t want to know what more they could have possibly done to the poor woman. He felt sick. Bile burning in his throat as he pressed his face into his hands.

He goes out every day and represents Vought. Represents pure evil under the guise of heroism. Fell in love with one of their seemingly infinite amount of victims…

In the weeks it took him to find the end of her story, Ben would hold John tight every night. He’d stare down at his love’s sleeping form and go back and forth in his mind on whether or not to tell him. The thicker the file, the heavier his guilt. Each printout only made it worse.

Would it hurt him? Certainly.

But, it might also close a chapter in his life that John had been so desperately trying to decipher.

Alternatively, it could make everything infinitely worse.

He knew he had to tell Homelander the truth. The only problem was getting the words to quit sticking in his throat every time he tried.

He could tell there was a strain between them with this recent secrecy of his. Where he’d been so late at night, why he wouldn’t talk about it. He stopped pretending he was swinging around the city and just settled for saying work kept him late.

But how could he tell him?

Hey, I found your mom.

It seemed like a ridiculous statement, especially because he didn’t actually find her– just traces. There was no headstone, no urn of ashes.

There was nothing left of her except yellowed paper and faded ink.

As it happened, the pot boiled over one day. Ben hadn’t even realized how bad things had really gotten until the morning John clung to him in bed, preventing him from leaving.

“Is there someone else..?”

The question had taken him completely by surprise.

“Is that why you can’t tell me what you’ve been doing?” He followed up, voice cracking no matter how hard he tried to hide it. “Where you’ve been…”

“What?” Ben rolled over to face him. “John, I–”

“I’d understand.” Homelander shook his head, avoiding eye contact. Tears leaked freely from the corners of his eyes. The dark circles lining them let Ben know he hadn’t slept at all last night. “I’d hate it– I’d hate it so fucking much… But I’d get it.”

The dwindling of his self worth screamed so loudly in every word.

“No!” Ben gripped him, his own eyes clouding. “Never! No, god no– never!” He pulled him closer, burying his face in Homelander’s chest. “No. No, Johnny.”

He didn’t wait for Homelander to speak before he spilled everything. All of the guilt inside falling off his tongue in stammered confessions.

“I didn’t want to– I…” Benjamin breathed, shaking his head to collect himself. “I didn’t want it to hurt you, I just… Not until I knew it was enough to be worth the hurt.” He moved away to look at John, a hand at his cheek to thumb soothing circles. Wasn't sure if he was doing it more for himself or Homelander. “And even then– fuck…”

Ben took a deep breath.

“I’m… I found your mom– sort of, I mean. Not like I actually found her found her, but what happened to her, at least.”

He gulped when John didn’t reply. Instead, that unwavering, wide blue stare begged him to continue. There was something in his eyes… Fury, perhaps. Fascination– absolutely. But, mostly, fear.

Fear that whatever Benjamin was about to say would reopen a lifelong wound held together with makeshift bandages. A wound that would unravel and gush the second something picked at it.

“I found a paper trail. Buried deep in junk folders where nobody would ever think to find shit that matters. Been a big puzzle to put together but…” Ben sniffled. “I can bring home what I have, but I just… I didn’t want to drop that on you without a final answer– and, god, I didn’t want to risk hurting you either. I wanted to find her for you, but it took so long just to even get her last name and I still don’t even have the first na–”

“What is it?” Homelander demanded, eyes widened as though he were in a frenzy. Perhaps he was. “What’s her name!? Is she alive!?”

“Gillman.” Ben replied instantly, the weight of secrecy falling from his shoulders with every bit he revealed. “Her last name’s Gillman. And… by rights, I guess yours is, too, but… no. No, she’s… she’s gone.”

The realization he’d never know his mother crashed over Homelander in waves so violent Benjamin could physically see it happen. He watched John begin to crumble, gradually unraveling more and more until he choked back quiet sobs.

“S’why I asked you that one night about placeholder names… I should’ve just told you upfront.”

Homelander shuddered. “1-G…”

“Yeah,” Ben pulled him close. Of course he knew that name. “That’s her… I’m so sorry, honey.”

Homelander was fully prepared to find he’d been abandoned by the love of his life. Kept around out of sympathy, but abandoned nonetheless. He’d practically convinced himself entirely of it. He wanted to be angry– furious, even. He wanted to grab Ben by the shoulders and shake him for keeping this hidden, but god.

His mother.

The mere thought of her shattered him, and all he could do was plead.

“Show me. Please, Ben– I need to see…

Benjamin spent the day gathering everything he had, abusing Vought’s unlimited employee printing access to duplicate seemingly endless amounts of paper, piling it all into one big folder. He’d warned John about how ugly this would be. How horrifically they’d treated her.

He didn’t have the heart to tell him about the others just like him…

Benjamin felt almost awful walking through the door that afternoon, shuffling in to find Homelander sitting on the couch, simply staring into space. No TV, no book or phone in hand. Just lost in his own mind, leg bouncing restlessly.

“Hey,” he whispered, drawing his love back to earth.

John shot up from where he sat, making a beeline straight for Benjamin.

The web-head had the file extended for him to grab immediately. Homelander snatched it like a child does a toy they’d been excited to finally receive, though excitement seemed to be replaced with dread.

He looked at it for a time, staring at the dense rubber banded folder as though opening it would unleash a black hole that absorbed the whole world. He was afraid to know.

And Ben knew it, too.

“C’mon,” he rested a supportive hand against Homelander’s shoulder. “We’ll do it together.”

He guided John to the couch, heart clenching at the way his blue eyes never strayed from the folder. As the papers became harder and harder to read, Ben had to help fill in the blanks on smudged words he’d deciphered himself. He had half a mind to tease Homelander about never wearing his glasses, but it was far from an appropriate time for such things.

Homelander’s expression grew grim as he read on, and they’d barely cracked through an inch of paper before Ben was encouraging him to take a break.

John’s breathing was uneven, eyes stinging with tears, teeth clenched in fury. His body was too hot, skin too tight, his head pounded. The audacity of the request sent him over the edge.

“How the fuck do you expect me to stop!?” He roared, snatching Ben’s hand away from the folder. He bit his lip, desperately trying to don his mask to hide his emotions. “What, y-you hand me this and now you want me to– no!”

“Okay,” Ben breathed, hands held up in surrender. “I just don’t want it to be overwhelming, y’know? This took me months to get through, and I know how I felt. You’re getting all this right away, and it’s a lot, and–”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Ben gulped, recognizing a burst of rage that once would’ve triggered a crimson glow in those ocean eyes.

“You don’t get it! You don’t fucking get it!” Homelander grit, teeth bared. His eyes accused Benjamin of betrayal. ”You have a mother. A father. Brothers. You have a family. This is all I get! Just a bunch of goddamn paper! So don’t you dare tell me to fucking stop!”

He expected this, but it never did soften the blow to know it was coming. Benjamin knew damn well Homelander would lash out eventually, emotionally fragile as he was given the situation.

The wall crawler shut his eyes as more abuse flew his way, simply taking it.

The dam would burst as soon as the rage faltered. He could practically time it to the millisecond.

“You– I don’t–” Homelander stumbled over his words, breaths coming in and out erratically as he fought to pretend he wasn’t coming undone at the seams. “Nobody– god fucking damn it! N-No!”

When Ben opened his eyes, it was to the sight of John leaned forward, hiding his face into the folder as he fought the lurch of a deep cry.

“It was never supposed to be like this…”

His own eyes pricked with tears as he watched Homelander break.

“I always…” Homelander’s voice leaked in a tight, throaty whisper. “I used to imagine what I’d do if I ever… ever met her. All I could ever think of was hugging her, but… I couldn’t even picture it because she was never real. I used to think if I did find her, maybe I’d feel okay… Like it’d make up for all these years.”

He nearly flinched when Ben began to rub soothing circles between his shoulder blades.

“I always wondered if she’d be proud of me, you know? Her son is– was The Homelander, after all. She’d have been proud, right..?”

Ben didn’t know how to respond– or if he even should. All he could focus on was the sorrow twisted on Homelander’s face when he finally lifted his head. The tears staining his face. A streak of snot that would’ve humiliated him were he in a clearer state of mind.

"D’you think she would've loved me..?"

Seeing him break like this made Benjamin regret having ever gone looking for Homelander's mother. And yet… somehow this felt right. Watching him finally feel it. Filling in the pages of his missing parentage after so long.

No… he needed this.

"She would've adored you, pumpkin." Ben worked the file from Homelander's grip as one takes meat from a lion that trusts them enough to allow it. Almost immediately, Homelander leaned into him. He ran his fingers through John’s hair, rocking him slightly. “She’d have loved you more than anything in the world.”

He wanted to say more– god he wanted to say so much fucking more… But he couldn’t. Nothing came to mind. Nothing that would’ve dulled the hurt in his love’s heart to make it all easier, anyway. There was one thing, though…

She was never real. The line reminded the wall crawler of what he’d left out of the folder, fearing that it’d shuffle loose and be lost on the swing home. He was about to throw the egg beater into the already boiled-over pot, but this is what needed to be done. One more thing his discoveries could heal with fire-like agony.

"Johnny..?"

Ben slipped his hand free, reaching behind to his back pocket, pulling free a little photo. He'd printed and laminated it before leaving Vought Tower, just to make sure the incoming tears wouldn't stain it.

He handed it over face down, and the look on Homelander's face said he knew what this was.

"This is… That's her." Homelander stared for what seemed like forever. Fingertips danced across the smooth surface as the tears rolled freely down his cheeks. "S'my mom," he rasped over and over again. "My mom…"

"Takes a little squinting on account of the quality," Ben sniffled. "But you look just like her."

Homelander breathed a laugh, finally wiping the mess of tears and snot on his sleeve. In time, his breathing began to even out as his cries tapered off.

"She's so…" John paused, sucking in a deep breath, holding it tight as he took in every detail of her. "She's beautiful."

Ben wrapped an arm around Homelander once more. “Hmm. Like mother like son, huh?”

Homelander looked as though he’d been given the world and had it taken away all at the same time. Perhaps, though, that’s exactly what this was.

In the span of but a few moments, he’d lost her all over again despite never having had her to begin with.

It took some convincing for Ben to finally get Homelander to stop reading and take a break. Help me with dinner, he’d asked once his love finally calmed down.

John seemed worlds away as they worked, not even realizing how he was reacting to what went on inside his mind. Benjamin realized he probably should’ve just let Homelander relax and collect himself.

“Babe,” he murmured, thumbing away a stray tear on his cheek. “That’s not how we salt the pasta.” A joke was all he could muster to try to alleviate something. “You can go sit down or something if you’re still working through it, y’know. You don’t have to–”

“No,” Homelander interrupted. “I’d rather be here.” He reached up to hold Ben’s hand against his cheek, staring back into those chocolatey eyes that always warmed him to his core. “Can you just… I– Give me something that I gotta focus on. C’mon, spoil me a little.”

Used to be that he’d take that offer and sulk. Let his sorrows drown him bit by bit until he was right back at square one - just as miserable as the day he’d lost himself. Ben always encouraged him to channel his negativity into something productive, but he never followed through. Never picked up hobbies beyond reading history books and watching movies.

But now..?

“Chef Johnny,” Ben grinned, proud as could be of his love. “You’re gonna learn to make a mean margherita pasta today.”

He figured he’s changed quite a bit over the years after all.

Homelander struggled to balance his focus against the raging thoughts of his mind. Minding the aromatics sizzling in the pan while flashes of what they’d done to his mother jarred him. Focusing on Ben’s instructions on what to add, what seasonings paired best with the chicken, the gentleness of his love’s touch as he held his hand to show him how to properly rock a knife to cut fresh herbs.

In the back of his head, he saw her. His mother, wired to those machines just as the doctors had done to him. Instead of what he’d always imagined - hugging her - he saw something else. Heard something else as he saw her, felt Ben’s hands on his.

Mom… I made it.

In the weeks following, Benjamin helped him absorb the rest of what happened. Sat with him while he wept over the siblings he’d never know, the grief of knowing he wasn’t the first, the relief of knowing he was - hopefully - the last.

It was a lot. A lot of crying. A lot of anger. Misery. Resentment.

But he worked through it.

The web-head eventually returned to his regular crime fighting antics and balanced his home life once more. In the meantime, he’d commissioned a headstone. There was so little to go off of, and no body to bury, but it felt right to put her to rest in at least some way. This, he kept a secret from Homelander.

It was a surprise for later.

Once the time came that the cemetery notified him that it was in place, Ben nagged Homelander all day to go for a walk. Well, more like a swing.

“C’mon, it’s important!” He whined. “You’ll like it.”

“We can have a date inside, you know.” Homelander huffed. He was perfectly content not suffocating in crowds of people, and he’d like to keep it that way.

“Yeah, but inside doesn’t have what I wanna show you,” Ben stuck his lower lip out. “It’ll be quick. I’ll swing us there. Land in a nice smelly alley. Just a walk across the street, okay?”

Homelander sighed, pushing his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Fine.”

“Great!” Ben chirped, pressing an enthusiastic kiss to his cheek. “Be ready in a few.”

The swing there was leisurely. It included a stop by a flower shop for roses, which Homelander questioned endlessly.

”You don’t need to buy me flowers,” he feigned a complaint.

”You’ll see.” That was all Ben had to say on the matter before they were back in the air.

He clung to Ben like a leech as they sliced through the air, high enough to avoid being photographed, but low enough that Homelander’s renewed fear of heights didn’t have him on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He focused on the flowers he’d been holding in a death grip. Pressed them against Ben’s back and stared into the petals.

When they finally landed in the promised smelly alleyway, Homelander furrowed his brow. From the path to the sidewalk, he could make out a graveyard.

“Ben?”

His little spider held out a hand without a word, leading him out, across the street, and through the iron gate.

He had an inkling of what was coming, but it felt like something out of a movie. Holding hands with the love of his life, walking through a monument of lives long gone, feeling the autumn breeze gust through the knitting of his sweater.

Homelander practically fell to his knees when they came upon it. His legs wobbled as he approached, flower stems creaking under the grip of his fist. He let his fingers touch the stone, tracing the letters engraved into the face.

Gillman

192?-1986

He hugged it. Didn’t know what overcame him, didn’t even know he’d done it until the cold marble pressed against his cheek. Didn’t even care that it pressed his glasses harshly into his temple.

He hugged his mother.

Homelander didn’t hear the shuffling of leaves under Ben’s shoes, but the hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality.

“Thought she deserved it, y’know?” Ben murmured, thumbing against John’s blue sweater. Part of him worried his lover would’ve been upset - maybe gave him grief over the fact she wasn’t actually in there. ”You deserve this, too.” He pressed a kiss to Homelander’s hair, then stood. “I’ll give you some space…”

Benjamin was ready to go for a stroll until a hand caught him by the sleeve, tugging him back down.

John was silent for a time, simply resting his forehead against the chilled stone, warmed by Benjamin’s arms draped around his neck. Ben figured he was simply thinking it instead of speaking, but then…

“I made it, mom.” With the love of his life embracing him, and his arms around her headstone, he pulled from the depths of his heart.

“I’m home.”