#reader askin the real questions here

[urmumsstuff]

Drabble

Reader hummed as she sat with Wukong both enjoying some rice they had managed to procure for the group.

"What makes someone human, or demon outside of species" She asked suddenly as she nudged some veggies about. "Because demons aren't a thing where I am from not in the sense of species."

There was a strange silence that engulfed the group as the mulled over the question

"I have a niece and nephew both are called demons, they aren't they are human but because of how my sister raises them they are terrors" She pushed the rice about "but then there are demons here that are genuine and good. But demons as far as I know are not supposed to be good so my question is. What is the difference between them?"

"The question you are asking has no simple answer" tang answered "you are asking what makes one who they are"

"I am, that's exactly what I am asking tang. Pigsy is a lecherous pig demon, don't lie you are," She gave him a harsh look that cut him off "who tricked a woman into marriage with him, meaning you are intelligent and manipulative and cunning. He's like that greasy dude no one likes down the hall."

Flower looked into the flames of the fire watching on how they danced with no form the same as the last.

"Sandy is a water demon who ate his previous incarnations, but shows strength and an emotional understanding when it comes to day to day life. So he's an overly ambitious and aggressive guy."

"Wukong is" She looked at the monkey "a king who cares for his people, has a sadistic streak a mile wide but will defend what's his no matter the cost. Even if it puts him under a mountain"

"I am a soul given a solid form meaning while still limited by my worlds standards I am both stronger and weaker like this. I get stuck at times because of it, but does that make me any less human because of it?" She asked "I can feel my body, hear the story's my family tells me, sometimes I swear I can make my fingers twitch."

"Ao le is a horse but his only real sin is eating a horse and being a bratty teen"

"And yet dispite this if one didn't know the lack of humanity there is one would think you just had an unfortunate luck of the draw when it came to deciples. So again what makes someone human? Or demon, both are in the cycle, both try and reach their ambitions, more and more the lines blurr. So I ask what is the difference?"

The human woman asked the group pointedly setting her food down.

[obnoxiousarcade]

I have a longing to be understood more than anything else i think

[moineauz]

જ⁀ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 , various ! pt two

synopsis: his voice lines about you as his beloved partner

including: boothill, aventurine

side comments: my first voice line fic was well received and for that I thank you all <3 so of course this is for all my boothill and aventurine lovers out there! (including myself for boothill...)

extra: gn reader, angsty and fluffy moments, I genuinely loved writing boothill's, minor spoilers for both favourites: boothill word count: roughly 1000+

care to see the first part? includes dr. ratio, jing yuan, & blade!

𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋

WHO ARE THEY? I "Out here askin' question huh? Well if you're that curious... then you better listen close."

FIRST MEETINGS? "Met them on a bullet train in a neighbouring star system. Turns out we were chasing after the same fudge-heads. You could've seen them- a sly creature that's who they were, whipping out the most slick sniper I've ever seen. I'd reckon that was one of the most thrilling fights I've ever had: came out with dents all over my arms and a broken gun. Their bullets nearly punched a hole through my cheek... hah!"

GREETINGS? "They may be a load of dormant gunpowder, but they sure are sweet! Full of laughter and courtesy. But I'll let you in on a little secret... ( Name ) likes to walk in, pretty as always- and plant kisses all over my cheek before they even say a word."

PARTINGS? "Being a Galaxy Ranger means never staying in one place. ( Name ) is no Galaxy Ranger... I'd reckon it's better that way."

ABOUT US: SHOES IN THE HOUSE "I can't exactly 'take off my shoes' now can I? But ( Name ) likes to keep the house tidy and I best not anger them... like that one time- anyways, we came up with this whole fudging system just to keep the bottom of my damn boots clean! It's fudging ridiculous! *Chuckles* I can't help it, but ( Name ) is understanding. Even if I trudged through all the grime in the universe- they'd still wipe it all off."

ABOUT US: FAMILY "You see, ( Name ) has this big family. Siblings, cousins, extended cousins, aunts and uncles, you name it. We were on their home planet once, and I finally understood where ( Name's ) knack for puttin' a real good home together came from. Their family lives in the countryside where all you can see are open fields, lush hillsides, free-roaming animals and wildflowers. Consider it a quiet paradise. They even grow their own food for fudging sake! Everythin' made by hand and land. Darlin' nearly coaxed me into joining them for dinner once, but I knew better. Best not spoil the family get-together."

CHAT: HATS N' POSES "Personally, I like my hat and flare the way it damn is. How would fightin' be without it? But of course, your partner has to be a cheeky tease about it."

CHAT: WARMTH " I've seen it in the movies- those fudging 'romcoms'- and read it in books. When it gets cold... I'm no help. Can't do much except reach for a blanket and wrap them up. But even then, metal and skin don't fudging work."

PASTIMES DONE TOGETHER? "Count me in on a dance sugar plum! Have to admit, darlin' has a fair share of good dance moves. Nothin' like a hard-earned victory being celebrated with a cool glass of whisky and a smooth dance."

ARGUMENTS: "Bitter things that's all they are. Leaves you knocked out cold. Reminds you of all the things you can't take back."

SOMETHING TO SHARE: "Following the hunt ain't an easy task. But someone has to punish the wretched. That's the thing about the hunt- you get cold, hard. Sugar follows another path that doesn't make any fudging sense to me. But that doesn't matter. None of that ever mattered, not to them, not to me or even the hunt. Call it selfish, but I'd like to one day settle down... Just like their family. Out where no one could find us."

WHO ARE THEY? II "They call me their 'sweet lover'. But really it should be me saying that. If anything I am the sweat of their brow- a nuisance at times. But they still love me. They still fudging love me."

EXTRA: IPC ENTRY "Normally, Galaxy Rangers travel alone. However, we have seen the wanted Galaxy ranger- Boothill- be accompanied by someone who appears to be a vagabond follower of Xipe. Despite the information we possess, the relationship between Boothill and his supposed 'partner' is very limited."

𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄

WHO ARE THEY? I "Fancy meeting you here- oh? A rumor you say? Rumours do have peculiar ways of reaching the ears..."

FIRST MEETINGS? "All business ventures possess their gains and losses. However, I did not expect my pockets- alongside others- to be picked on a night meant to celebrate the Strategic Investment Department. The person who did it played their cards exceptionally well. I applauded them and the subtlety of their skills."

GREETINGS? "Despite their rather cunning nature, ( Name ) is quite kind... shockingly so. I thought their smile was a chip they played for their own meticulous advantage. *Chuckles* I was wrong, there was simply nothing to understand behind that smile."

PARTINGS? "One transaction after another, the universe keeps spinning. Don't keep up, you fall behind. Simple. I don't have to worry about that around them, or at least, for a while, until another wager must be made. Until the peck on the cheek is over."

ABOUT US: LOCKET "( Name ) has a keen eye for trinkets and bought- well stole- a locket for the two of us to share. I keep it with me, a lucky charm if you may."

ABOUT US: NAPPING "Personally, I don't nap. But, ( Name ) is a terrible influence and says I should. I must admit, waking up to them in the afternoon is not a bad way to spend my time."

CHAT: THEVERY "( Name ) is a thief... a good one at that. Oh don't worry, they struck a deal with the IPC. Primarily on their terms because they have been such a nuisance to the IPC. It's rather amusing seeing the IPC chase their own tail. We've definitely shared laughs over it."

CHAT: CONFESSIONS "Who could possibly love something so broken? It's like keeping a clock that won't tick or a deck of cards missing a queen. Sometimes, I wish they didn't care so much. It would be... easier."

PASTIMES DONE TOGETHER? "Of course, a good game of cards is a fun way to pass the time. *Chuckles* Though, ( Name ) is a terrible player. Not that I mind, I'll guess I'll play the role of 'loser' this time around- best you not tell them."

ARGUMENTS: "What else is there to say? Nothing. That part is the worst."

SOMETHING TO SHARE: HEART OF GOLD "( Name ) steals to give to the poor. It's their motto... I saw them once with a group of kids on a planet in a distant star system. They were giving back to the orphanage- the smiles on the children's faces when given toys, marbles to be exact, were so bright."

WHO ARE THEY? II "In all honesty, I'm not quite sure. However, what I do know is that luck finally worked in my favour... I'll hold onto that for as long as I can."

EXTRA: DR RATIO'S OPINION "The gambler- without hesitation- will bet 'all in' even if it means his own life hangs in the balance. However, amongst the chaos of his bets, there is one person who will drag him back to reality... ( Name ). Aventurine will never gamble nor forfeit the one person who truly understands him. Even I don't fully understand the gambler's crafty nature. I suppose a thief is the only one who can and more importantly, will."

masterlist.

[bimbosandbubbles]

Truth or Dare?

Starring Bully Gojo and Geto

Synopsis- It’s freshmen year of college and for Gojo and Geto the year has been a little too boring—sure it’s only the first semester but c’mon it’s their first year being university students so why not make the year unforgettable? And for that reason they find themselves playing a dangerous game of truth or dare with their friends—a game that led them to YOU,their best form of oh so interesting entertainment.

Warning’s-noncon,dubcon,spitting,hair pulling,slapping,slight fingering,misogynistic behavior,filming noncon, double penetration,extreme humiliation,pussy eating,heavy degrading, creampie,breeding kink, multiple sexual scenes(not really sex happening),stalking,yandere,obsessive behaviors,thigh fucking, fatphobia,abuse of power(Gojo’s money and Geto’s connections),pussy slapping,emotional manipulation,blackmail,shoe licking,shoe fucking,extremely humiliating acts ,hairy pussy,stalking,rimming,loss of virginity,EXTREMELY SADISTIC BEHAVIOR!! TW THIS IS ALL FICTION! ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ CHUBBY READER!

Wc-7.8k(Guys I cut off 6k more words to shorten the fic😭)

“Truth or dare?”

A white haired man turns to a man with long raven black hair,"What do you think Sugu'? Truth or dare?"

The male hums in thought,"I think truth,after all it's only the beginning of the game." Snow like hair bobs in acknowledgment,"Okay,we pick truth."

A wide smirk grows on the integrators face,"How many bitches have you fucked together?" Geto chuckles,"Do you always have to be so uncouth Naoya?" The said man shrugs,"That doesn't matter,just answer the fuckin question."

Geto decides to humor the man,for his and his best friends entertainment mostly. "Gojo how many would you say?" Gojo sighs—lazily leaning his lanky yet muscled frame against the back of a beat up couch. "Since we get here...uhhh probably like four. In high school probably like six."

"You've ever filmed any of em?" Naoya asks. Geto raises a neatly done brow up,"Why are you asking?" Naoya rolls his eyes,"I'm just askin there's no real reason behind it."  Gojo looks at Geto from the side of his eye,"Sugu' it's not that big of a deal to answer. Plus it's not like we have filmed any of them."

"I guess." Mutters Geto. Gojo loudly claps his hands and paints on a goofy smile onto his face. "Anyways...Naoya truth or dare?" The man sits back in wonder before answering,"Dare."

"Okay! I dare you to call the one girl in your phone that you'd have to be paid like a million dollars to ever fuck anddddd you have to ask her to send a pic of herself." Naoya voices annoyedly,"How the hell do I get her to send a pic of herself?"

Geto smartly suggests,"Lie.Make something up." The man with highlighted hair smirks,"That shouldn't be hard. She's a dumb bitch anyways."

Naoya scrolls through his contacts list and spots a contact dubbed "Piggy." Geto and Gojo lean over his shoulders to see the view and both of them wince once seeing the name. "She's fat?" Gojo asks. Naoya snickers,"Oh fuck yeah! She's fucking big as hell! I could never stick my dick in her."

Gojo chuckles,"I couldn't fuck a fat girl,seems like too much work." Geto adds on,"Yeah they're not really my type either....there's just too much everywhere for me." Naoya agrees as he presses on the contact,"They're all usually fucking ugly anyways. So it doesn't really matter."

Noaya's fingers press on the call symbol while he lets out one final chuckle. He presses one finger to his lips,signaling the pair of friends to shut up.  The man finally calls and the phone rings three times before it finally picks up.Naoya makes sure to put the phone on speaker. "Hello?" A sleepy voice calls out. "Hello (Reader)."

"Naoya what're you calling me so late for? I thought we finished everything for the project?" Naoya rolls his eyes,"Yeah well our introduction project isn't finished yet,I still need you to do something." Geto and Gojo don't miss the biting tone he speaks to you in. "Oh um well..I'm sorry I didn't think I missed anything."

"She sounds cute." Gojo whispers in the ravenettes ear. "Mmm." Geto hums in agreement.  "Yeah you should be sorry. But luckily for you  I'm nice so I'll allow you to still do it."

"Thank you? But anyways what do you need me to do?" Naoya smiles while looking back at the men," I need a picture of you." For a moment there's static silence—a silence that's riddled with confusion. "Umm why do you need a picture of me? Our project has nothing to do with ourselves."

"It's to prove our teamwork to the professor uhh how well we got along and shit like that." It's quiet until Naoya receives a dinging notification. "There you go,bye." The phone loudly hangs up while Naoya's jaw clenches in anger. "Fucking bitch hung up before I could."

"That doesn't matter show us the pic." Gojo says impatiently. "Fineee." The male opens up his messages and soon as he does he snickers. "I don't know why she tried to send me cute a one,she looks fucking stupid." Wrong. Naoya was so fucking wrong.

You don't look fucking stupid...you look so fucking cute. Your have such a pretty face—a face that needs to be came on. Those adorable fucking pudgy cheeks are just begging to be decorated with cum. And fuck those pretty lips you got—both Geto and Gojo just wanted to stick their dicks in your mouth.

They can't even see your body in the picture but they just know it's so fuckable. What do you have a cute pudge hanging down—a pouch of flesh keeping your pussy warm? Do you have warm doughy thighs that their fingers will just sink into the moment they touch the flesh? You just look so...soft. So wonderfully soft—plenty of soft sweet palpable skin just begging to be marked by them.

But despite Gojo's and Geto's shared thoughts—the lustful and wanton thoughts they wouldn't say that they want to fuck the ever living life out of you. They wouldn't disagree with Naoya saying you look fucking stupid. They wouldn't even admit they think you're attractive. Why? Because admitting a mere few minutes ago that you wouldn't fuck a fat girl and then switching up isn't the best look.

So what do the pair say when Naoya says that? Do they disagree and defend you? Do they admit the pure desire they have to want to be inside you? No they say," You're right she looks weird,let's just move onto the next round."

━━━━

"I didn't just leave her on the frats lawn! I at least gave her some cash to get herself home." Naoya proudly states.

"Wow,Noaya thank you so much for not being the worlds biggest douche." Geto states sarcastically.

"Whatever, don't act like you two aren't assholes yourselves. You may fool a bunch of bitches but I know how you really are."  Geto peers at Gojo,the man beside him. They both give each other a knowing look—a shared thought surging through the kept gaze. A gaze that screamed,"We're aware of what dicks we can be." Huge dicks who have left girls high and dry after telling them they love them—spewing lies straight from hell just to get their cocks wet a few times.

But are they really dicks if no one really cares to point out they are? Are they really assholes when women flock towards them even though it's known they'll only use them like a human fleshlight? They could thank their good looks,popularity,and Gojo's plentiful wealth for never being confronted for just how cruel they could really be.

Geto smirks,"I guess you could say we are assholes but at least we appear to be nice ones." Gojo hums,"Mhm but anyways it's your turn to ask us."

Naoya sits there,clutching his face in devious thought. "If you guys pick dare,you won't pussy out with anything I say,right?"

"Nah as long as it's nothing too illegal." Gojo answers. "Good cause I got something in mind. Truth or Dare?" The two best friends stare at each other once more,silently agreeing on an answer,"Dare."

Naoya laughs,acting like he just had the best idea in the whole world. "You fuckers set yourself up. This is going to be sooo funny." Gojo rolls his eyes,"Yeah,yeah,just get to the damn dare."

"I dare you to fuck with little miss piggy for me." Naoya cruelly states. "That girl you just showed us?" Gojo asks."  The question had a little too much enthusiasm,too much excitement for some girl he said looked weird. Hopefully it went unnoticed by Naoya though. "Yes that bitch."

"We'll do it but lemme ask why you wanna bother her?" Geto questions. The male shrugs,"Do I need a reason? She's annoying." Geto hums,"Alright I guess that's a good enough answer. But what's on the table for fucking with her?" The white haired male perks up at that,"Ooo yeah? How much can we bother her?"

"I don't really give a shit about what you do to her. Just ruin her,make her miserable. The only thing I want is some evidence that you're doing at least something." 

Make her miserable,huh? Ruin her? Does that include every part of you? Because Geto and Gojo had something wonderful in mind...just for lil ole you.

"Oh yeah,we can definitely do that." They both remark.

━━━━

"Okay,I think this is the last book I need." You whisper to yourself. See,today is a good day! Why? Because this is the day you're almost done researching for a extremely tedious paper. That means for just a few days you wouldn't have to shove countless information down your throat anymore.

So naturally your chubby hands reaches to grab the book that's placed on the fourth shelf. Just as your finger grazed the spine of the book a tall figure grabs it from behind you. Quickly you turn and see a raven haired man,staring at the book with faux interest.

"Umm, I'm sorry I was gonna grab that...it's really important that I have it." You say politely. The male raises a thin brow,"Is it not important for me too? I might need it even more than you do." Immediately you feel yourself heat up from embarrassment," Oh no no!  I didn't mean it like that—I just really really need that book. Im so sorry if I came off uncaring."

Cute. Geto's just starting the fun with you and he already wants to stuff his dick in your mouth. You don't even need to worry about some dumb book,you could just warm his cock all day. Besides the way your dressed right now it's like you want him to tear your clothes off and fuck you. Those denim shorts that are showing off those thick thighs and that damn thin white tank top you got on really shows a lot he wants to see. The pudge of your tummy just clings to the fabric so deliciously—it's tempting so tempting for the man to just reach out and grip the pudge but he resists the urge.

But still despite how cute he finds you,he still needs to make your little life unbearable. So he says,"Well I need this book more." With that he "kindly" smiles and walks off. He leaves you there,mouth agape and eyes wide. Did he really just—DID HE JUST TAKE THE BOOK?

Angrily you call out,"Hey! I need that book." The man continues walking,ignoring you completely. With a mission you charge after the male,keeping his speedy pace until you bump right into someone. Broken from the determined haze you were just in you look and see the person you slammed into.

It's odd,you swear no one was in front of you before and then suddenly someone just came in front of you. No matter how weird it really is though,apologizing and catching up with the book thief is more important.

"Omg I'm so sorry! Are you okay! I was just in a rush—" The very tall man you just bumped into places a long finger on your lips. The sheer boldness of the action instantly shutting you up. "I don't wanna hear it. Ya know,you should definitely be more careful. People are not as nice as me."

He leans down,shortening his noticeable height ,"But since I'm sooo nice all I'm gonna ask if you to beg on your knees for my forgiveness." The hell? Who does this guys think he is? The president? You weren't gonna beg for forgiveness just for bumping into someone?! Hell no!

" Look I'm sorry, but I'm not doing all that just for bumping into you! Don't you hear how fucking crazy you sound?" You snatch his finger away from your lips and cross your arms angrily. He chuckles,"Oh so you wanna act all tough? Fine,I didn't wanna threaten you this early,that was gonna be some fun for later but since you're a lil stubborn I guess the hard way is for you."

Your brows pinch together in frustration and confusion. Who is this guy? Acting like he's all high and mighty? Can he even threaten you when he doesn't know you? Yeah,right. You're sick of this already.

You attempt to move past the male,too sick and tired of precious time being taken away from you. But you're stopped by a veiny large hand that's securely wrapped your wrist. He yanks you to his chest,"Ya know,it's not very nice to walk away while someone's talking to you.I thought you were a polite girl." His warm breath travels all the way to the back of your neck. It's oddly...intimate and sexual for someone you just encountered.

"Be a good girl and beg or else I'll get you out of this university so fucking fast and then I'll tell someone in every single university in the radius you're a fucking cheat. I can go even farther than that if that doesn't scare you enough." He mutters. Chills run across your spine—it's scary,the threat,it holds so much weight but no way some guy you just bumped into has the power to do that,right?

"Y-You can't do that!" The exclamation is a unsteady one,you yourself not even believing that. For some reason this stranger just oozes so much effortless authority—so much power that's unexplainable. It's confusing but still it instills some type of fear in you. "Oh can't I?" His tone is cocky—assured fully in just what exactly he's capable of. Scary—it's scary how confident he's in ruining your educational career.

"Are you taking me a little serious now,hmm? Do you think you should take my good grace and get on your knees already?" It's no big deal,right? If you just get on your knees now,you'd probably never see the man again. This university is big and no way the man would make an attempt to find you—a complete stranger.

Would a little humiliation be so bad if you never see him again? "Are you? Or are you gonna just stand there like an idiot?" Nervously you gulp before facing the man and sinking down to your knees. As you level yourself at his feet you can't help but stare at the rich brown leather that his shoes are made of.

You look up at him and instantly Gojo's glad he chose to his dark sunglasses today. He could feel his pupil dilate as soon so you kneeled for him. Everything about you looked sooo good on your knees—those pretty lips parted slightly because of nerves—your thick thighs squishing together and fuck those gorgeous tits that are just peeking out of your tank top,just begging to be fondled with his big hands.

"Are you gonna start begging or do I gotta force your mouth to move too?" You shake your head no and gulp down a lot of pride and self respect. "Please uhhh—" you pause to search for the man's name. "Gojo. It's Gojo."

"Gojo,please forgive me. It was a mistake and I'm so so sorry." You think your apology is good enough but what you think isn't always right. The man scoffs as a big hand completely palms the whole crown of your head—pushing your body to bend straight down. The tip of your nose kisses the carpeted floor of the library.

" Ah,ah, You're supposed to lean all the way down like a good girl,yeah? Now do it again." Your clammy and stubby hands angrily and tearfully grip the fine hair of the carpet. This is just so...humiliating it hurts every ounce of self respect you have contained in your body.

"Gojo,please forgive me. I'm so sorry." He hums and places his large hand on your head,"I forgive you...for now." With that the man removes his hand and quickly announces his exit. "Thank you for the apology,don't be so clumsy next time."

You watch as his long limber legs make their way farther and farther away from you. Your nose still kisses the carpet—a reminder of the humiliation that was just acted on by the man casually strolling away. The humiliation being so damn demeaning you no longe care for retrieving your much needed book back.

But it would be okay,right? It would be okay cause you'll never see Gojo again. You haven't seen him before and you won't see him again.

You could just move on from this right? Is the thought you have as your eye stay trained on his brown leather shoes.

━━━━

Have you ever been more more wrong before? So irritatingly wrong?

Because both the mysterious man who unfortunately learned is Geto, and Gojo from the library have not left you alone since.

Everywhere you go there they are! Always calling you mean names,like slut or whore. Always taking away your stuff away from you. Always threatening you. And worse—always finding you.

And that is the exact reason why you're stuck between the two—pushed against a random wall in a hallway. "You wanna runaway from me and Geto,some more? Huh,(Reader)?"

You shake your head rapidly and squeak as Gojo's large hand reaches out and grips your tucked pudge that's hidden well within the high waisted material. "D-Don't grip me like that!" You squeak. "Like what? Like a slut? Cause you are a little slut." Gojo remarks.

"I'm not a slut!" Your words are met with chuckles,true genuine laughter for something that wasn't even a joke. "Mmm then why are you always with those lil dorks after hours? You prolly let them cum in you. You prolly let them spit in your pussy and mouth,don't you slut?"

You start to tear up and resist Gojo's grip but it only gets tighter. "Maybe you wouldn't see me hanging out with my friends if you guys weren't always stalking me! Just leave me alone! You don't even know me! I've never even done anything to you!"

"You think we're stalking you? You think we're genuinely interested in someone like you?" Geto chuckles. "Yeah,we know you're a little slow but to think that is on another level of delusion."  Gojo adds. Liars,the both of them know that they're watching you. Keeping tabs on every single move you make,every person you talk to,every time you go out,anything—just so they know when to strike. They told themselves it's not cause they like what they do to—they don't like seeing you beg and plead,they don't like humiliating to the brink of tears—absolutely not. Liars.

"Oh and you've never done anything to us? Hmm,I can remember you fighting for that book pretty hard. I think you may have pushed me,right Gojo? You saw her push me?" Gojo hums,"Hmmm,yeah I swear I saw her. She was so mean to you. And not to mention she didn't even wanna apologize to me for rudely bumping into me."

"What the fuck??! I didn't even push him! I know for a fact I didn't! And last time I checked you just randomly popped up and bumped into me!" You make sure to face backwards and points towards Gojo. "Ah,Ah she's got a little potty mouth,doesn't she Gojo?"

"Mhm,that's not very ladylike (Reader)." Gojo says. "We can't have that,can we?" Behind you the white haired male shakes his head. Gojo's lengthy fingers dig into your tummy even more,sinking the dull tips of his nails deeper.

"You should learn not to talk like that but don't worry Gojo and I will help you learn,m'kay?" How? How—can someone look so kind,so calm while plotting to do something humiliating to you? It doesn't' matter how or why because Geto is still standing over you—kind smile and welcoming eyes gently intimidating you.

"So,open your mouth like a good girl for me and say ahh!" Geto demands. You shake your head no and quickly tuck your lips together. He tuts—disapproving of your stubbornness. "You wanna make it hard for yourself—Fine be that way then. But you will open your mouth for me."

Geto's relative distance to you shortens as he walks closer and closer to you—pushing your body against Gojo's even more. "Gojo pull up her shirt."

"No—NO! D-Don't!" You thrash against Gojo but once more he tightens his grip on your pudge. "You should've listen to Sugu the first time." Gojo mutters as he lifts up your shirt revealing a pastel pink bra. The glasses adorning man whistles,"Is that lace? Who are you wearing that for? Hmm? Is it for me and Sugu,little slut?"

"N-No!" You whimper. "Oh so it's for somebody else?" Geto asks. "No." You reply back. "Mmm so you're wearing something"—Geto's large hand reaches to pinch the strap of the bra—"this pretty just for no one to see it? I don't believe that."

"I think just for her lying you should give her double punishment." Gojo encourages. "Yeah? I think so too. Lil slut won't learn if we aren't a little hard on her."

"Gojo make her open her mouth." Geto says as if they share the same brain—having the same thoughts riddling their in synced minds. Long fingers trace their way down your tummy,teasing the beginning of where your high waisted pants start until finally a loud gasp collapses off your tongue when they're pulled down—revealing the smooth fat that rests on your middle.

You think he's gonna start groping your boobs but instead the pale hands begin gripping your tummy—kneading the skin oh so well that his fingers mush into it. "Oh!" You gasp. And it's cute ,so cute that Gojo's dicks throbs in his loose fitting jeans. Would you make that noise when he puts it inside you? When he makes you swallow his spit? How about when he makes you hump his big thigh while in public?

Gojo's taken away from his thoughts once he hears Geto's familiar voice. "Mmm you got her to open her mouth." Geto hums in approval,"Look at how good her mouth looks open. I think she really is a little slut."

The black haired man pulls your cheeks apart and sticks his middle appendage in your mouth—your tongue crashing against the skin like a giant wave. "Mhmpp!" You move against Gojo once more,droplets of salty tears starting to pour out of you. "Shhh don't fight...take your punishment."

You watch in horror as Geto puckers his lips and translucent liquid drips down his lips—realizing that his lips start getting closer and closer to you.

Until finally you feel wet—degrading liquid coat your lax tongue. The cool saliva coats your mouth,traveling the whole expanse of your open cavern.

"Swallow." You know it's not a question or even a pushy request—it's a command. A reminder that you're under their thumbs like a mouse who's constantly running away from a cat. It's sickening so sickening—so beneath you to be treated like an object yet you find yourself swallowing your pride and gulping down the spit.

"Good whore." Geto mutters. His long finger pops against your inner cheek as he takes it out of your mouth. He pats your chubby cheek and wipes your saliva on your half exposed chest.

"Mmm this kinda bored me." Gojo remarks. Geto hums and backs away from you,"Yeah this pig is kinda not entertaining me anymore. Wanna get something to eat?"  The tall man that was positioned behind you snakes his to way over to  Geto.

Leaving you to watch as they casually saunter off but Gojo suddenly stops his big strides. "Oh and (Reader),"his tones lowers a bit—scarily so,"don't let us see you hanging out with those guys again. Or we'll actually do something to you."

You stand there in shock—shirt ridden up to your chest and pants flashing bits of your panties. Gojo smiles at you,but it's not a pleasant one—a smile that makes you want to run and hide. They both continue walking and you watch,counting and waiting the steps to see if they're far enough so you can quietly sob.

The moment they get far enough you slide down the cool wall and break out in a array of tears. All you can think is why you? What'd you ever do to anyone to have your life be meddled with so cruelly?

WHY YOU?

━━━━━━━━

"I regret not taking pics." The white haired man pouts. Geto chuckles," There's always next time."

"But she only looked like that awhile ago. Her bra looked so pretty that day. I wished I filmed her swallowing your spit. She looked so fucking cute Sugu...I just wanna stick my dick in her mouth. I wanna make her embarrassed like that again,so fucking bad."

The male smiles amusedly at his friends whines,however he feels the same,he wishes to see you like that all over again. "I think we should  give her a visit soon. We haven't seen her in like what two weeks?" Geto and Gojo knows that's not true,they have seen you actually but you haven't seen them. They always check up on you at certain points during the day—making sure you're listening to them about the people you're hanging out and it makes them so damn proud when they see you alone and avoiding all your male friends. You're such a obedient girl.

"Oh thank God! This time I actually wanna do something with her,I've been thinking about what she feels like. And I want you to film it. "

Gojo says enthusiastically. "What do you have in mind?" The bright blue eyed man smiles widely,"You'll see."

━━━━━

"(Reader) are you sure you don't wanna come and watch a movie with us?" The kind voice halts your motions of packing up for the day.

"Nah,I'm sure. I'm gonna catch up on homework so I need the extra time." You explain with a smile. "Alright,but text me if you change your mind. The movie doesn't start for a few more hours."

You nod and wave as your kind classmate walks out the door. You're about done packing up until your trusty mechanical pencil begins rolling down the rows and isles of the seats.

"Dang it." You sigh and annoyedly crouch down—following the pencils straight arrow path. You take tiny steps in order for your bigger body to keep up with the quick pace of the rolling writing device.

Finally it stops at the third row—leaning against the leg of a mahogany chair. You bend down to get it with a smile etched on your face but as you reach to grab it a hauntingly familiar brown leather shoe is planted in front of you.

Suddenly you forget to breath—fear and anxiety grasping the natural function away from you. That same fear making you incapable of looking up to see intimidating bright blue irises.

It's quiet—too quiet and that's what makes it worse for you. You feel like prey—being teased,chased,stalked on, by two superior animals who are waiting to take the final kill.

"Do you wanna stay there on your knees for me or are you gonna greet me?" Jolly is the only way you can describe Gojo's voice—which makes his words only 10x times worse to hear. Ever since you encountered him in the library and attempted to forget him all you got was all too much of him. After the incident you've constantly been hearing about the "Great Gojo", the impossibly handsome trust fund baby of the university. The Gojo who's cute and loud and funny—it makes you wish you knew him due to different circumstances so you could admire him just like everyone else.

No,you had to remind yourself that this isn't the case. Instead you'd get bullied and assaulted by him and his friend Geto.

"Hello?? Is anyone there?" Gojo bends down and prods at your forehead,roughly poking it. "Do you think she heard me Sugu?" Gojo asks. "I dunno let's see." Geto's large hand suddenly rushes to your face and grips the warm flesh together. Both of the handsome men sneer at you and condescendingly share a glance with one another.

"I think someone is home but they're too shy to answer."  Geto peers down at you before he whispers,"Shhh it's okay,me and Toru just missed you so much. We just need you to be good for us,m'kay?"  You look up at him with wonder—confused by the oh so sweet tone of his voice. It almost makes you feel safe and cared for—almost is the keyword here. Because in only a few seconds your hair is suddenly yanked,having long fingers tangled in it. "I expect an answer when I say anything to you." Geto grunts into your ear.

"Y-Yes!" You whimper out. A warm wet kiss is placed on your chubby cheek as the black hair

man praisingly remarks,"Good job!" 

"Since you're gonna be for good for Gojo and me I want you to do something, okay?" You nod and mumble a fearful okay. "Good,now take off your panties and give them to Gojo."

You gulp down a wad of spit as you nervously and shamefully stand up and start quickly sliding off your panties. By the time you get the plain white cotton undies to your ankles Gojo's expectant hand is waiting for you—and like he was expecting you hand the worn material to him.

He places the pair of panties into his pocket and grins at you happily.  

Geto's voice rings out,"Now get on his shoe." Snapped out of your fearful daze you yell,"WHAT? I'm not doing that! That's so gross and unsanitary." Gojo pouts,"What's wrong with my shoe? It's not good enough for you?"

"No! That's so gross! No way in hell am I doing that!" You attempt to stand up right and walk away from the pair but a large hand pushes you back down. The force of the body part making you whimper by the sheer power. "Nu uh Geto already filmed you taking off your panties for me. If you walk away we'll have no choice but to show everyone at this university what a dirty slut you are. How would you like that,hmm?"

You mouth flaps open in shock,since when did Geto have a chance to do that?? When did he even take out his phone? You turn and there you see the cellular device pointed right at you. You thought you were screwed then but now...they actually have something way worse to use against you.

Gojo smiles at your realization," So now are you gonna put that pussy on my shoe?" You look up at him and defeatedly turn to still see that Geto's filming and you simply just give in.

You waddle closer to Gojo's foot and set your bare pussy on the rich material—the thick pubes on your mound making contact with the shoe. You can't help but gasp by how cool it feels,it feels new,almost good.

"Move." Gojo says. You look up at the man and gasp once you see and hear how different he looks. His voice sounds less high—lacking the usual teasing and playful tone he talks in. And his eyes—his normally bright blue eyes are now toned down,muddled with dark lust and eagerness.

Your clit bumps and grinds on the expensive laces as you try to set a pace on your own. You huff and whine at the oddly good sensation.

You lean your face on Gojo's pants,slightly biting into the material to hush down your pleasured noises. It feels good because it's so degrading and so wrong—yet you can't deny how wet begin to you feel the more you thrust against the man.

"Mmmf!" Is the noise you're making as you hide your face into his legs,teary eyes closed in hated bliss and ashamed mouth taut open in pleasure. How disgusting you are—enjoying fully how good this is making you feel. You're riding a man's shoe for gods sake, but you can't bring yourself to care anymore. Not when your poor hole is opening and closing for nothing. Not when you you can feel four eyes staring at you get yourself off.

"Look at you,such a fat slut. And you tried to act like you didn't want me and Sugu's attention. Dirty slut." You hear a wet noise of Gojo's mouth right before warm hot spit lands on your forehead. You go to wipe it away but Geto's hand grips your wrist,"Don't,you'll ruin your pretty face. Leave it."

You nod and silently gasp once you see the angry bulges of the two men. It makes you even wetter once you see how aroused this made them. Geto seems to noticed your focus gaze,"Aww do you wanna actually see some dicks in real life? Hmm,is that what you want whore?"

Your mouth almost forms the word yes until you remember these men aren't some friends with benefits or boyfriends—no they're bullies who enjoy seeing you struggle. So with that reminder you shake your head no and go to hide your face in Gojo's leg only to feel a hot sting run across your plump cheek. "Liar. Gojo get her off your foot. I'm gonna show her something."

"Aww but I was enjoying watching her! At least let her clean the mess up." Geto rolls his eyes,"Alright,make it quick." Gojo smiles happily before he peers down on you,"Lick." He's not specific because you already know what he wants you to place your tongue on. You stare down where you placed your cunt at and feel grossed out. However,you know one way or another you're going to have to lick his shoe. And you'd rather not get another burning slap from Geto.

So you prod your tongue out,lapping at your own juices placed on the man's costly shoe.

You taste yourself and the taste of oddly wood like leather. It taints your palate,making you scrunch your face in distain as you finish the task. You look up at Gojo and he seems so enthralled—his chest is heaving and his pink lips are slightly agape in surprise? You can't tell but he just looks so fascinated by you. "Wow,you really are a slut." He breathlessly chuckles.

"Mmm,she really is. Anyway take her to the desk Gojo,make sure she's bent over."  Without warning Gojo pulls you by your underarms and walks you to the desk. He pushes you down onto it,his hand presses down on your roll adorned back to keep your stomach flat against the desk. You feel him move from behind you,changing his position to be in front of you.

Suddenly you feel a warm hand graze against your dimpled ass—long fingers sinking into the supple flesh. "Now since you wanna lie and act like a fucking prude Imma make you see how badly you want our dicks."

For a few seconds you're left waiting to see what happens. It's suspenseful so suspenseful that you're even staring at Gojo in anticipated wonder. THACK! Is all Gojo hears along with a pained cry.Hot tingles flows though out your pussy—burning sensation fleeting in the wet organ.

"That's what happens when you're not being honest. Your lil pussy gets punished. If you want it stop I just need you to be honest with me. Say you want our dicks inside you."

Your bottom lip trembles pathetically,"I want your dicks inside me." Another harsh slap rains down on your cunt. "Again! You're not saying it like you mean it." This time you force your voice to be louder,"I want your dicks inside me!" Geto leans forward until his warm breath can be felt on your face and his big hand yanks your head back. "Now look at the camera and say you want our dicks inside you."

You defeatedly look up at the iPhone camera held in Gojo's large hands,"I want your dicks inside me!" Geto let's go of your hair and stands straight,"Good cause we're gonna give it to you." Two hands spread your thighs open and something large and veiny fills the empty space between them. "But you don't deserve any dicks inside you yet. You should've been honest the first time."

Geto grabs your supple waist and grips your tummy from below—with a snap of his hips he's brushing his cock against your inner thighs. Each thrust his rough and fast paced,forcing your head to bob up and down the desk. The graze of his dick against your throbbing clit pulls occasional whimpers and whines from your lips.

On the other side of desk Gojo unbuttons his pants—pale fingers rubbing against the expanse of his tight briefs. "Touch it." Gojo demands. You look up at him as you reach and feel the constant pulse of his cock. It's warm,so warm that the heat is comforting to your whole body in the cool lecture room.

You cup the thick shape protruding from the pure white material and start moving up and down. Gojo pushes himself into your hand—his once opened eyes closed in pleasure. The camera continues to peer down at you as your lays lip on his covered cock."S-Shit pull em down." The camera continues to peer down at you as your lays lip on his covered cock.You obey the pleading man,gripping the beginning of his underwear until his oozing cock is revealed.

A gasp falls from your lips at the sheer beauty of it. You stare points blank at his pre cum ridden tip that's oh so rosy. Your thumb finger graces the slit—going up and down on it,feeling his dick get harder and harder. Though, before you can really get a good grip on it one hard thrust from Geto pulls you away from him.

"Aww Sugu...you messed her up." Gojo whines. "Calm down you can use another part of her in a little bit. Switch spots with me." Gojo huffs but obeys Geto. The white haired places his still filming phone onto the desk. The ravenette ends up in front of you,his girthy dick resting on the desk right next to your face. "Have you sucked dick before you?" Geto asks. "N-No." You quietly reply.

"Mmm,of course you haven't. What loser would wanna get sucked off by you?" Liar. Geto's been dreaming of having those pretty lips surround his cock—of slapping your face and cradling those chubby cheeks you have on you. Choking you with his dick while you're all teary eyed and begging for air. But he doesn't hate you,no not at all,this was just a dare that he's happening to be enjoying.

So since it's your first he's gonna go easy on you. "Wait does that mean you've never been fucked before?" Gojo says excitedly. "Mhm." The confirmation makes Gojo's and Geto's dick jump. This is great! No one's been inside before so that really means you're really all theirs,their personal fuck toy who's only been fucked by them. After months of planning how they're gonna pop up into your life and destroy what you've known before,they're finally getting award.

"But that means I gotta stretch you out first,huh?" Gojo dejectedly says.  "I know just the way." Gojo sinks down go to his knees and pulls your waist closer to him. You feel cool air fan your warm pussy.  Lanky fingers spread your lips apart,pulling the coarse pubes away from the another. The sheer slick of your pussy laying and slicking them down to the mound.

"You surprisingly have a real pretty pussy. It's perfect for taking dick. Too bad no one else is really gonna want it." Untrue,Gojo really wants it. He's been wanting it since Naoya showed that picture to him. He's been craving the feeling of sinking into you and fulling you up. Craving to grip your round tummy as he pounds into you,drilling every single last sperm into you.

A long wet tongue licks the expanse of it,the sensation draining a surprised whine from you. "Mmm, while he warms you up Imma give you a lesson on how to suck." Geto leans down so his face his leveled with yours. He grabs Gojo's phone and points it towards him and you. He points out his index and pointer finger,pressing the digits against your lips. "What I want you to do is ease these into your mouth,okay?"

You nod and your mouth drops open as you feel Gojo's long tongue dig into your cunt. "Mmmf!" You whine.  You attempt to only take the tips of Geto's fingers but you rush them into your mouth as you feel more pleasure. Geto roughly taps your face,"I said ease,don't take it all in." You look up at him and just suck on the tips of his fingers. "Good girl,like that until I say so."

Gojo releases his tongue from your hole,instead prodding into your entrance with his fingers. He slips one in and then two,slowly scissoring you open with each curl of his fingers. Geto pushes more of his fingers into your mouth,almost reaching the back of your throat. You gag and attempt to move away from him only to have your head held in place. "Stay. Breath through your nose."

Taking his advice,you hurriedly stable your breathing. Your eyes bubble with tears and your face contorts in uncomfortableness.  Finally you're full of relief once Geto slides his fingers out of your mouth. "Good. I think you're ready for the real thing now,huh?"

"Y-Yes." Geto smiles,"Good slut,you learn so fast. You're meant to be a whore for us." Gojo pulls his fingers from your entrance. Geto faces the camera directly on you,"Are you ready to be fucked?" You look up at the camera—flashes of all the treatment you've endure from these two,constant examples of cruelty for no reason course through your memory's, yet you want so badly to mutter the words yes please.  You want to be fucked by them,want to know what it's like to have someone inside you.

"Please." Pathetic,weak but you don't care. You've given in one last time and your decision is rewarded with a almost loving kiss from Geto.  Gojo practically mounts you as he rests his muscular chest on you,he plants a kiss on the back of your neck that could be seen as a sweet praise or an apology for what he does next.

Without a single warning Gojo sheaths himself in you. You scream and writhe against the wooden desk but Gojo grips your violent body. "It's okay,just take it. Take it."

"I think it's my turn now." Geto looks down at you right before he plunges his cock into your mouth. Your eyes widen and you don't have time to process what's even happening. All you can do it feel. Feel the slowly pleasurable feeling inside your pussy and feel Geto's thick dick go in and out of your mouth.

The more you begin to feel the better all the overstimulation is. Suddenly Gojo's downright stretch feels so fucking wonderful as thrusts in you. Geto grips onto your hair,guiding your face to go deeper on his dick. "F-Fuck,good slut. Good whore. Imma cum if you keep letting me fuck your face like this."

Minute after minute,you can't catch a break. Not when Gojo's snaps his hips into you like a animal. Like he's so desperate to stay in you—drowned in the utter wet and warmness you offer him. "Good girl,good girl! This pussy feels good! So good!" The blue eyed man babbles.

You feel your oxygen slowly leave you and you roughly tap on Geto’s legs. He frees himself of your mouth and instead busies himself with slapping his heavy cock onto your face as you catch your breath. You can’t even do that though because Gojo reaches from under you and rubs your clit with a passion.

Moan upon moan leaves your mouth,like a broken record playing over and over again. Your song is becomes muffled once Geto finds his cock in your slack mouth. You quiver underneath Gojo as you feel a hot feeling tingle with in you.

You were gonna cum,so soon. With three snaps of Gojo hips you come undone and you begin to lose feeling everywhere. You feel like a lifeless fuckdoll,just a cocksleeve for Gojo and Geto’s dicks.

Gojo feels you cum and groans,”Shitttt I’m close.” Although Geto doesn’t agree verbally his thrusts in your mouth become more hurried and desperate. In and out is all you can feel.

It feels like hours of tortuous pleasure. A sick sadistic game being toiled onto your body. But it ends once hot,warm fluid courses in your walls. “Mmmmmm!” Is all the men can hear from you. Gojo pulls out and Geto pulls one last thrust into your mouth before he cums all the way down into your throat.

He grips his dick and slides it out. You hurry to swallow his seed and almost choke due to the quickness.

It’s quiet throughout the big classroom,only heavy breathing being heard. Geto looks down at you having Gojo’s phone in hand and travels the entirety of your body. He finally tosses it to him and the man catches it quietly.

Geto bends down so he’s once again on your level,”I’m telling you this now and I want you to know I mean it. You,your body,everything that makes you a person belongs to us.” Each word is said with such powerful emphasis that all you can do is silently agree.

An agreement that leads you down a interesting path with the pair.

━━━━━━

From a game of truth and dare,to bullying,to becoming fond of you ,all the way to fucking you every single day,to adorning you with the proper title of their girl.

The two have learned some truth from a juvenile game. They learned that they’ve should’ve never met you,should’ve never crossed paths with you because now they’re completely and utterly infatuated with you. Even if they cover it up with insults and threats,they’d go crazy if other people had you like how they have.

Reblogs area greatly appreciated🫶🏽🫶🏽!!

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

hiii i love ur fics idk if ur requests are on rn but can u do a short drabble of the tiktok trend where the guy hasn't ask his gf to be his valentines day so she "put him on sale" as a joke ofc but she's like

BF FOR SALE ($3.50)

- amazing cook

-crusty feet

- will buy anything u want

any character is fine but i would love katsuki or shoto!!

LMFAOOOO this is for sure the funniest ask ive gotten yet😭😭😭 this is so cute !! and very long overdue I apologize writer block devil was rlly kickin my ass😞 valentines been over but yk i had to write this ! i was rlly hesitating between writing for shoto or katsuki and then i realized i could write for BOTH OF THEM!! and so i did ! i tried honoring your request as best i could, hope you like it <3 !

no pronouns mentioned, pure tooth rotting nasty fluff, use of petnames (my love for shoto and sweets, babe and idiot (lol) for katsuki), katsuki is an asshat but when isn’t he, shy katsuki, shoto is a bit of an airhead, kissing, biting, reader is petty asl lol, lemme know if i missed something else !

todoroki shoto ♥︎

“yn, my love.”

“yes, shoto ?”

the corners of shoto’s mouth pull into a tiny frown at the usage of his first name. no baby, no hun, not even sho. just shoto.

“did i do something to upset you ?” he asks carefully from his spot at the foot of your dorm bed he seems to be stuck at, he can’t bring himself to move until he knows if you’re actually mad at him, and he has an inkling you are.

you look up at him for no longer than a second then look back down at your phone screen “what makes you think that ?” you question back nonchalantly.

“you posted something on your tiktok account..” shoto doesn’t have a clue how to have this conversation with you and it makes him a little nervous, he regrets not going to izuku for advice after all.

“mhmmmm~” you hum, urging him to continue knowing damn well you know what he’s going to say. you wanted to hear him say it himself.

you know shoto’s had no previous relationships before you so these type of things probably don’t mean as much to him as they do to you, but doesn’t everyone want their boyfriends to ask them to be their valentine ? you sure do, and your boyfriend hadn’t asked you to be his yet, so as petty as you know you were being at the time you posted the tiktok he’s no doubt here for right now.

shoto feels like a criminal on trial desperately trying to plead his case with you being the judge. tentatively, he asks “ you said you were..putting me up for sale ?”

immediately it’s like a switch had been flipped. you place your phone down onto your bed next to you, shoto wishes he could take your phone’s place. you cross your leg over the other and bring your hands together like a super villain revealing their master plan “yes. yes i did.”

“oh.”

silence. nothing.

shoto tried—he’s trying. he’s trying so insanely hard to make sense of everything that is you but he simply can’t. he breaks eye contact to think of more to ask but his attention is quickly pulled back to you when he hears you whine.

“uuuuughhh shotoooo~” you moan, throwing your head back against the headboard. “you’re not supposed to say ‘oh’ !” you’re face changes from grumpy to deadpan as you lower your voice slightly to try and mimic him. on any other day this would’ve made him laugh but he’s beyond lost at this point. he clears his throat before speaking again.

“ i don’t know what i’m supposed to say—or what i did for you to want to sell me.” he thinks “and for 3 dollars at that.”

you let out a laugh when you process his words and shoto’s shoulders magically feel lighter at the sound. carefully, he slides a little closer to the side of your bed so he can stand at your bedside. little by little. you pretend you don't notice.

"it's what you deserve for not askin' me to be your valentine."

the secret’s finally out and you get to see how the cog wheels in his head are starting to turn in real time, it has you holding back a giggle when he looks up at you like a deer in headlights.

“is that..why you were mad ?” you nod, humming out a playful mhmm

“ya really hurt my feelings you know ? to think my own boyfriend wouldn’t ask me” you clench your fist over your heart and fake sob dramatically.

shoto huffs out a laugh, relieved to see you’re not actually mad, and goes to sit down on your bed. he tentatively reaches for your hand and squeezes it twice when you let him hold it. before bringing it up to his lips and placing a sweet little kiss to it. it feels as if pop rocks are going off inside of you.

“ i’m sorry for not asking you to be my valentine.” he apologizes, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing your hand “ i was thinking i should’ve, but i didn’t want you to think it was weird since we’re already dating.” his thumb goes to run over your fingers “ i was worried me being too intense would scare you off.” he mumbles.

your eyebrows furrow, you lean towards him to make him look at you “ you wouldn’t scare me off, who told you that ?”

“kaminari. he said ‘coming on too strong scares away the babes.’ ” shoto quotes

you sigh. of course it was that bigmouth portable charger filling his head with this stuff.

you pull your hand out of his grasp and he looks up to protest but you grab his face in your hands before he can say anything, you can practically see him start melting at the contact as he blinks at you slowly, he reminds you of a cat.

“sho” you purr, rubbing his cheeks “ rule number one is never ever listening to kaminari’s dating advice. most of the time it is very wrong.” you explain.

shoto presses his mouth to the palm of your hand “yeah, i’m starting to regret that now.” he speaks into it, you snort. he leans in closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips and you reciprocate, pressing a few more kisses on his lips for good measure “ i’m really sorry for not asking you.” he says in between pecks. you hum in response to him placing even more kisses all around your face. “s’okay. i’m also kinda sorry for putting you up for sale.” you say, running your fingers through his hair while he places kisses on your shoulder.

he lifts his head up to look at you then, an eyebrow raised with an amused expression on his face “kinda sorry ?” he asks.

you nod “mhm. kinda sorry.”

he chuckles to himself, then gets up so he can climb into bed next to you. when he’s positioned how he likes it, with his head in your lap while you comb through his hair with your fingers, he sighs peacefully “well, it wasn’t all bad. i’m glad you think i’m a good cook.”

“what about the crusty feet ?”

“i’m choosing to ignore that part.” shoto smirks lightly to himself when he hears you laugh at his joke, clearly proud of himself for it. “and i will buy you anything you want, to make it up to you.”

“i don’t need you to buy me anything, sho” you roll your eyes with a lovesick smile “ all you gotta do is ask.”

he blinks up at you, looks off the the side as if he’s deep in thought, and suddenly gets off your lap to sit right in front of you. you never think you’ll get over how pretty your boyfriend is and being reminded of it with how close he is to you makes you flustered. he leans in to kiss you passionately and you don’t know if it’s the love he pours into it or the lack of air that has you so dizzy, you don’t dwell on it.

when he pulls away he’s looking at you like you hung up the stars in the sky and he simply, almost shyly smiles at you and asks.

“ will you be my valentine ?”

bakugou katsuki ♥︎

you did not expect katsuki to come barging into your dorm room five minutes after you’d posted your tiktok. the loud sound of someone banging on your door and proceeding to let themselves in seconds later causes you to let out a squeak.

in comes katsuki, phone tightly clutched in his hand and the moment his eyes zeroed on you he’s like a bull charging at a red flag. he stands right in front of you, angry frown on display before he shoves his phone in your face.

“explain this. now.” he growls, you have to hold back a laugh, keeping your face as calm as possible you look between him, his screen then back at your phone.

“what’s confusing about it ? i thought i was being pretty straight forward.”

his eye twitches. “why the hell did you put me up for sale ?! and for three dollars and fifty fuckin’ cents ?!” he exclaims, you can’t help the snort that bursts out of you, though katsuki doesn’t look as amused as you are.

“explain.” he deadpans.

“i think you can figure it out.” you shrug back.

he mutters insults to himself that you can’t catch “well obviously fuckin’ not, cus I wouldn’t be askin’ you if i did.” you simply shrug and look back at your phone. “i wrote it in the caption.”

it takes him a second to process then he’s tapping his password and opening the clock app at super sonic speed. his eyebrows furrow and you see him tapping away at his phone. his eyes widen when he reads your caption and he looks down at you with a mix of desperation and disbelief.

“you’re mad cus I didn’t ask you to be my valentine ?” your bratty huff and turn to the side as you shrug again is all the answer he needs. he looks at you for about 5 seconds longer then sighs.

he sits down on your bed and keeps staring. katsuki bakugou hates a lot of things and one of those things is you ignoring him. a warm hand on your ankle startles you and you can’t even ask him what he’s doing before your being yanked towards him. you squeal, almost missing the smirk on his face or the huff of laughter at your reaction. almost though, so you glare at him. katsuki looms over you until your noses almost touch, then you turn away with a huff. he chuckles, pressing his lips to your neck.

“ yer such a baby, y’know that ?” he mumbles, smirking against you neck. you huff but make no effort to shrug him off “ no i’m not, jerk. is it so wrong for me to want my boyfriend to ask me to be his valentine’s ?” you grumble, trying to ignore the feel of his warm lips against your skin, it’s not working so well for you.

“s’not what i’m sayin, sweets” he nips at your earlobe “‘m sayin’ ya coulda just told me ‘stead of bein’ a baby about it.” you can’t tell if this is his way of trying to apologize. either way, you don’t want to give in just yet.

“i’m not supposed to tell you to ask me to be your valentine’s katsuki, that’s not the point~ !” you huff petulantly. you feel a but childish but, c’mon ! it’s a given to have your boyfriend as your valentine and it wouldn’t hurt your demon spawn of a boyfriend to be a little but romantic once in a while.

he playfully rolls his eyes at you “see, what’d i tell you? big baby.” leaning forward he nips at your nose making you groan and trying to push him away with your palm. katsuki being the powerhouse that he is, doesn’t budge. “ i didn’t think to ask ya cus you’re already mine. so why should i need to ask something that’s a given ?”

your heart beats faster at his words and katsuki takes his chance when he feels you loosing up more and more. suddenly he’s got your wrists in his grip, holding them above you and looking down at you with that sickeningly handsome smirk. you’re almost there, he can practically feel it.

“i—i’m..still mad at you” you stutter out weakly, your defenses are down.

“yeah ?” he taunts.

“yeah. apologize.”

he scoffs, rolling his eyes lightheartedly “why should i apologize ? you said my fuckin’ feet stink.”

“ ah, ah, ah.” you tut “don’t put words in my mouth, i said your feet were crusty.”

“yeah, thanks babe. that makes it so much better.” he sasses, you laugh “and i complimented you ! i said you were an amazing cook !”

“yeah but that ain’t a compliment, ‘ts a fact.” he says matter of factly, you’re eyes threaten to get stuck at the back of your skull with how hard you roll them and he snickers.

he dives in and steals a kiss, and then another one when you don’t stop him. when he pulls away to catch his breath, ready to steal another kiss you stop him by placing your hand on his chest. he looks down at you questioningly and you give him a raised brow in response. he groans.

“fine. m’sorry” he concedes quietly

“foooorrr ?” you urge.

he narrows his eyes at you as if saying “don’t push it” but swallows his words down “ for not askin’ you to be my valentine’s or whatever the fuck” he shoves his now hot face into your neck and mumbles “now quit bein’ all pissed at me.”

you’re happy enough with that, so you wrap your arms around his neck, one of your hands creeping up his nape and into his hair. he sighs contentedly, clearly enjoying the attention you’re giving him.

“thank you. i’m also sorry for saying you have crusty feet.” hearing him scoff at the accusation makes you giggle “and for putting you up for sale.” he hums, happy with your apology.

“..kinda.”

“oi.” he warns. you giggle in response continuing your ministrations in his hair.

“you still haven’t asked me so..” you trail off. he lifts his head up to look at you with a blond eyebrow raised.

“ does this valentine shit really matter that much to you ?” he asks.

you respond immediately “yes.” nodding aggressively to make your point.

he sighs, shaking his head. he looks at you, then looks off to the side in embarrassment, he can be so cute when he wants to be. steeling his nerves he looks you straight in the eyes. fearless with fierce red cheeks and all.

“b-be my valentine, idiot..”

[dvchvnde]

excerpt; hitchhiker au | Simon Riley x Reader gore. graphic descriptions of decomposition. implied noncon.

“You’re not real,” she whimpers, words a rough scrape out of her raw, torn throat. “You can't be real.”

He doesn't answer tonight. Silent in his appraisal, his hatred; the bloodlust rolls off of him in waves, a suffocating deluge that tangles in her chest. Heart pulsing at the base of her throat, clogging her airways. She can't breathe. Can't move. Can only watch as the man cocks his head slowly to the side in a mutated parody of consideration. Confusion. Taking her in as he stands in her doorway, massive body filling the frame in an outline of black, making him more shadow than man. An apparition that haunts her at devil's hour. Always.

The moon's glow casts a line through the open window. A pale meridian between them. 

Childishly, she thinks of hiding under her blanket. Bad things can't touch you under the covers. Curling into a ball with her eyes squeezed shut, fingers plugging her ears. Wishing for her mother. Howling for her dad. Waiting until morning when the thing haunting her finally leaves.

But he doesn't. Not tonight. 

And she knows if she tries to hide, he'll just crawl into the bed next to her—

“Fix your bumper yet?” He asks, measured in his mockery. The weight of his words makes her stomach churn. Nausea a cold, familiar comfort that tethers itself to her ribcage. “Better get that fixed before someone comes askin’ questions, pet. Clean the blood off it, too. Caused quite the nasty spill.”

His directive makes her want to curl into a ball. “I–I didn't mean to, I didn't—”

“What'd you tell everyone? Hit a deer? Left ‘im in the bushes to die? And now he's got maggots crawlin’ all around ‘is ‘ead. Eatin’ his brains clean outta ‘is skull—”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up—you’re not real! You're not real—”

The man—Simon Riley, her mind supplies bitterly, brokenly; tinged full of regret and sorrow and hatred—lashes out in an instant, moves like water, like shadows on the wall, the too bright flicker of a moving car, until he's in her face, looming over her. A massive, unclimbable wall. And she hates it. Hates when he's this close to her. Close enough to smell the stench of rotten blood that dries on his chest, the side of his head. A brown stain that sinks into the too-large frame of his chest. 

He smells of death. Sickening. Tainted with a noisome sweetness that glues in her nostrils, leaks down her throat. She can taste him there, right on her tongue. Him. Simon Riley. 

Missing, the newspapers say. But only she knows the truth. Stowed away in a facsimile of a grave by the swamps, left to rot. Here, in her bedroom. Waiting for her whenever she tries for a modicum of sleep. A veteran. A drifter. Homeless, they write, and he barked out an ugly laugh as he read over your shoulder, but said nothing else as you scrolled. Tense. Shivering in your seat, waiting for the day the police show up and arrest you. You did a terrible thing. A horrible thing. Pay for what you've done—

His hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around the delicate arch of her throat. The width spans the entirety of it until the bone china, the vulnerable slope, is clenched tight in his slick, slippery palm. Moss, she knows; it grows over his hands and feet now. The earth reclaiming the body she threw into the swamp—

“Not real?” He mocks, wrenching her closer by her throat. Pulse thudding like the wings of a hummingbird against his thumb. “Oh, pet. M’very real—”

He leans in, too, until his horrid face is lit by the sliver of pale blue moonlight. Scraps of tissue slough off of his head, skin purpling beneath the balaclava that peels off in patches. Animals, he'd told her idly, like talking about his body being eaten away by creatures was piecemeal. The jaundiced bone of his cheek pokes out from raspberry skin. It shifts when he speaks, and draws her eye to the devastation of his mouth. Jawbone visible; muscle blackened, clinging by a strip of thin tissue to his lower mandible. His teeth gleam in the light. Yellow and crooked. The rest of his face is covered under the blood soaked fabric of his mask. A small mercy, she thinks.

But the worst is his eyes. 

Once black, midnight grey, is now filmed over. Milky. And the other—

Something moves in the cherryred chasm. A long, thin black line slinks out of the gaping hole. Another. Another. From the rotten socket, a large spider emerges, crawling over the craggy pieces of his broken nose, making his decomposing body her home. 

She whimpers as the bile surges up, swallowing it down when the blue skin of his mouth peel back in a horrifying grin—

Something white falls from the corner of his eye, rolling down the slick, damp skin of his oily face in a mockery of a teardrop, the image glueing to the bone deep remorse that coils like a noose around her neck. Tighter, tighter. 

His tongue lulls out. Cold, slimy, when it flickers over the trembling ridge of her jaw. Fingers digging into her skin, stealing the warmth from her flesh. The air from her lungs. 

He'll have her like this, she knows. Always does when he gets in these moods—the kind that makes him touch her more, sink boney fingers beneath the hem of her pants, and cooing in her ear about how much he wants to eat her alive. Buzzing with some strange, electric energy. She can't run. Can't scream. 

Going to the police isn't an option when she buried a body under loose rocks and sticks. Hit and run. Vehicular manslaughter. Life over in a blink—

No. No—

She just has to wait, she thinks, her eyes slipping shut as his rancid breath curdled over the tears on her cheeks. Wait until his body rots all the way. 

Until he's nothing but bones—

Only then will this ghost finally leave her alone. 

[juniperskye]

Silence is Louder than Words.

Sneak peek: Joel and Ellie return to Jackson, Tommy gets them set up in a home on the outskirts of the community (per Joel’s request). Joel notices they have a neighbor and takes an interest in her. Tommy lets him know that they don’t know much about you other than you had been through some serious shit, but that you haven’t spoken a word since you’d arrived in Jackson. Tommy asks Joel to keep an eye on you…and in doing so, Joel may just be able to break through your defenses.

Joel Miller x (Fem) Reader

Fluff/Angst

Word count: 3512

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited, I did my best (ngl I had so much more planned for this but it didn't seem like it would work in this part of the story...so maybe more to come. IDK) - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, minimal use of y/n (there were parts it just couldn’t be avoided), No description of reader other than she/her pronouns and her sister was similar to Ellie (could be perceived as personality), implied age gap (kinda?), explicit language, reader has selective mutism due to trauma, Canon typical violence, PTSD, panic attacks, nightmares, insomnia, anxiety, mention of r*pe (past trauma, not detailed), mention of pregnancy (past, not detailed), mention of child murder (past, some detail), mention of murder. IF THESE ARE TRIGGERS FOR YOU, DO NOT READ!!!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Joel, it’s really good to have you guys back here…safe.” Tommy said, pulling away from Joel.

“We’re glad to be back.” Joel grunted.

“Well, I have you guys situated in a house on the outermost part of the community. I figured you’d prefer it that way.” Tommy explained.

“Thanks Tommy.” Joel nodded.

Tommy led Ellie and Joel over to a house that was quite literally on the outskirts of the Jackson compound. Joel took note of the lack of neighbors as they walked further and further and it put his mind at ease, knowing he’d have some privacy. As they neared the house, it was Ellie who noticed the small white house just off to the left of their own.

“Who lives there?” Ellie questioned.

“Oh, that’s Y/N’s house. She’s real quiet, y’all won’t have to worry about her stirring up any trouble.” Tommy informed.

“I thought you said no neighbors?” Joel gruffed.

“Joel, she’s quiet. You don’t have to worry about that. Honestly, I was kind of hoping you’d keep an eye on her, just make sure she’s okay.” Tommy pleaded.

“Tommy, I’m not gonna play babysitter for a grown ass woman.”

“That’s not what I’m askin’ and you know it. She just – she’s been through it. She keeps to herself mostly and Maria and I worry about her.” Tommy explained.

“Fine. I’ll keep an eye on her. But I’m not gonna go and chit chat with her.” Joel rolled his eyes.

“I wouldn’t expect that.” Tommy began. “From either of you.” He mumbled. “Why don’t y’all head in and get settled, you can meet Maria and me for dinner. Sound good?”

“We will be there!” Ellie replied, pulling Joel inside by the sleeve before he could decline.

Joel couldn’t help but wonder why Tommy was so worried about you. Tommy had boasted about how the people of Jackson were all strong and each held their own. They wouldn’t be here otherwise. So, what was your deal? He’d mentioned that you had gone through some tough shit, but what was it? He had to say, he was intrigued.

His interest only grew once he saw you for the first time. It was about a week after his and Ellie’s arrival back in Jackson. You had been walking around the mess hall with a basket full of homemade goods, passing them around to people. He’d seen you pass out a few bottles of what he assumed to be some sort of toiletries as well as some clothing items to various people.

Joel waited until Ellie had run off to sit with some of her new friends to ask about you.

“So, what’s her deal?” Joel inquired.

“Who? Y/N…I thought you weren’t playing babysitter?” Tommy teased.

“I’m not. I just want to know why you think she needs looking after.” Joel replied.

“Honestly Joel, we don’t know much about her. She hasn’t said a single word in the four years she’s lived here.” Maria informed.

“Bullshit. She’s said somethin’ at some point.” Joel scoffed.

“No, Joel she really hasn’t. She knows some sign, but she mostly writes stuff down if she really needs to communicate.” Tommy said.

“Damn. Well, what’s her role around here since she doesn’t talk?” Joel couldn’t help but be confused.

“She makes all sorts of stuff for the people of our community. She’s figured out how to make shampoo, soap, lotion, sunblock, toothpaste…I mean the list goes on. She also repairs clothing when necessary, she’s the best seamstress in town.” Maria smiled at how wonderful you’d been since your arrival, jumping right in to contribute.

Joel was taken aback at how much you clearly brought to the community. Despite your silence, you’d made yourself known. Joel could see how you were well liked based on the greetings you’d received from those you were delivering to. He found it very odd that you’d keep to yourself despite Jackson’s fondness for you.

Joel had always been a loner, but it had been due to his stubbornness, sarcasm, potty mouth and overall negative attitude. His mother had always said “Joel, ever the pessimist” when he’d say something even remotely negative in his youth.

Learning all this about you had only transformed Joel’s intrigue into a need to know you. He couldn’t help how he was drawn to you, he wondered if it was because, perhaps, you were kindred spirits.

Joel woke with a gasp, his body covered in a cold sweat. Another nightmare, it had been the same recurring dream night after night since he’d found Ellie. Every time he made it through the hospital, and he’d gotten to the operating room, only this time he barges in to see the doctor holding her brain in his hands.

He woke up the same way too. Startled awake, laying in a pool of his own sweat. Joel tried to get back to sleep, but it was no use. He thought about it and decided to take a walk to clear his mind, now that he and Ellie were in the safe confines of Jackson, he was able to do so.

Joel didn’t want to stray too far in the case that Ellie needed him, so he was more so pacing from the front of their house, over to the front of yours. It was a warm and humid evening; Jackson had been nearing Autumn and Joel was looking forward to the break in the weather.

A muffled shout pulled Joel’s attention from smacking the mosquito that had surely bitten him by now. He glanced back toward his house to see if Ellie’s light had been turned on – nothing. He shook his head, ready to brush away the thought when he heard a louder scream, only it was coming from your home.

Joel rushed to the door listening just to be sure and when he heard you scream again he was quick to open the door. He was surprised to find it unlocked, although the people of Jackson seemed at ease in their community.

He swiftly surveyed the room, desperate to find you and ensure your safety. Joel found you thrashing around on your couch, screaming, begging for help. He made his way over to where you were laying and gently placed his hand on your shoulder. He shook you a few times to rouse you, but when you woke, you hadn’t reacted how Joel would have expected.

“What? What are you doing here? GET OUT!” You shouted, pushing Joel away from you.

Joel shot up, mostly in shock at hearing you speak for the first time, but also to follow your request. He made his leave, not wanting to upset you any further.

You couldn’t believe it. Joel had come into your home and woken you up. What was he thinking? Why had he been there? Had your nightmare haunted you so badly that your screams could be heard from his home? You were horrified and humiliated. You had done so well, hiding your demons, shoving them down so far that no one could see, and in a single night they’d all come out and bore themselves to none other than Joel miller.

The next few days were horrible. You had done everything in your power to avoid Joel, who seemed to be seeking you out. On top of that, your insomnia had made a wonderful return. Your mind refusing respite in fear of Joel finding you in another traumatic night terror.

You weren’t sure what had even caused your nightmare that night. You hadn’t had one in nearly a year, but thinking about it, there were a few potential triggers that came to mind. The first possibility was Maria being far enough along in her pregnancy to be showing, the second being Ellie’s striking similarities to your sister, and the last being Tommy’s mention of them finding and taking care of some raiders on his patrol that day.

Hell, it was probably a combination of all those things that had you reliving some of the worst moments of your life. You hoped that the feelings would soon pass so you could get some sleep.

“Tommy, I need you to be straight with me. What happened to Y/N before she got here? Like what do you know about her?” Joel pushed.

“Joel, I already told you we don’t know much.” Tommy huffed.

“But you know something!”

“Okay listen, she arrived here alone. She had a small pack with her and that was it. Maria and I sat with her and asked her dozens of questions, and we didn’t get a single word out of her. I stepped out to deal with something and when I got back, she had been writing her responses to Maria. I know that she had previously been with a group but none of them survived. And based on what I saw, I’d say whatever happened wasn’t pretty.” Tommy explained.

Joel just nodded, content with learning more about you. But still so curious to know what was haunting you. He couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to protect you. Of wanting to find what was causing you harm and making it so it could never hurt you again. He’s trying desperately to figure out this need to hold you and make everything okay, why he was so drawn to you.

“Look Joel, Maria told you how much she does for the community, and you’ve seen for yourself that she sticks to herself, she’s quiet, and she doesn’t cause trouble. So, we don’t push her to know more. The last thing I will say is that whatever she went through…she is a damn good shot. Do with that information what you will.” Tommy patted Joel on the shoulder and walked off.

Joel sat with the information for a bit. Had you been forced to kill your way to Jackson, is that what was haunting you? That is something that is justified, those things, they aren’t people anymore and raiders well if you didn’t kill them, then they surely would kill you so again justified. It had to have been something far worse if you refused to speak.

Joel decided he’d observe you, and he’d be there when you had another nightmare. Since losing Sarah, Joel hadn’t really wanted to be around anyone. Tess was stubborn, more so than Joel, so she was able to force herself in – and even then he didn’t open up much. And well, Ellie, she was his second chance at being a dad. But you, you had come in and taken up residency in Joel’s mind and it was because of that feeling, one he hadn’t experienced in a long time, that he knew he needed to break down your walls.

And that is how Joel found himself trying to comfort you through another nightmare. Joel had been out walking late at night again, the nights had started to finally cool off and he’d found it helped clear his head to take walks like this one.

It was nearing two in the morning when he heard it, your cries for help. He made his way up your porch steps and carefully tried the handle, saying a silent cheer when the handle turned, and the door gave way.

This had been different than the last time, as he approached you, he noticed the tear tracks lining your cheeks and he could hear your quiet whimpers. He knew he had to do this right if he was going to get you to let him in.

“Sweetheart? Wake up, you’re safe. I’m here and you are okay.” He gently shook you.

You woke up, startled once again to find Joel Miller is the one waking you. This man had a lot of nerve letting himself into your house, yet again, and while you’d love to give him an earful right now, the pain of what your nightmare had brought forth in your mind was crippling.

So, you threw yourself into Joel’s arms. He wrapped himself around you and repositioned himself, so he was sat on the couch, and you were in his lap. Your face was buried in his neck and his arms were tight around your waist. He ran his fingers gently through your hair and whispered reassurances in your ear.

He held you until you fell asleep and when you woke up at sunrise, he released you and saw himself out. He knew he had to gain your trust, and it would take time. This is how it would need to be done, he would have to keep quiet and leave when the morning came.

A few hours later, after he and Ellie had breakfast, she was heading out to school. Joel was expecting her to leave like usual, so he was pretty confused when she returned to the kitchen carrying a small wicker basket.

“This was on the porch, I gotta head to class or I’ll be late!” She waved and headed out.

“Thanks kiddo. Have a good day.” Joel said goodbye.

He slowly pulled the items from the basket and a small smile graced his features. He brought them out one-by-one, a bottle of sunscreen, a bar of soap, some solid deodorant and a new flannel shirt. Beneath everything was a small note.

"Joel, I wanted to give you these as a sort of thank you and apology. Sorry for yelling at you that first night and thank you for last night. I figured you and Ellie could use some hygiene products that weren’t pre-apocalyptic. I also noticed how torn up your flannel had been and wanted you to have one that wasn’t threadbare.                                                                                                 -Y/N”

Joel’s smile grew, this was just the beginning of his mission to break down your walls and it was off to a successful start.

You proceeded to have nightmares at least twice a week for the next three months. Joel was with you for every single one. Each time he’d gently wake you and he’d shush you, assuring that you were okay. The only thing that had changed was that more recently, Joel would carry you off of the couch and to your room, where he’d hold you close until you fell asleep.

In the last week the nightmares had come every night, and while Joel so badly wanted to ask why, he knew that he had to let you come to him. You had spoken to him in two-to-three-word responses in the last few weeks and Joel was so glad that you’d been able to open up to him even that much.

What he didn’t know was that the reason your nightmares had become more frequent was because Maria had finally given birth. Seeing her with her baby had been killing you, it had brought back so many awful memories and you knew that you’d need to tell Joel. You’d wanted to tell him days ago why you had been having such a hard time, but you were also terrified of it changing the dynamic between you.

Something was different tonight; you had slipped Joel a note during dinner at the mess hall, inviting him to come by your place a bit earlier. When he arrived you couldn’t help but be nervous, you felt so unsure of everything, but you were starting to trust Joel and some part of you knew that he would understand everything.

You had decided it was now or never. He had been with you every night of the week and he never pushed you to share. He told you about what he had been through and some of the things he had done to get here and had let you meet him with silence. You supposed now was your turn to share.

“Joel?”

“Yeah sweetheart?” He tried to hide his surprise at your initiation.

“I want to tell you what happened…is that okay?”

“Of course, sweet girl. Only share what you’re comfortable with okay? I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” Joel pressed a light kiss to your temple.

“So, it started with my sister and I, she was younger than me, Ellie reminds me a lot of her. She and I well, we got caught up with these raiders. Well, they, they uh…” You choked.

“It’s okay honey, take your time.” Joel rubbed a soothing hand down your spine.

“They forced themselves on us and left us both beaten and bloody. After that, my sister was in a bad way Joel. She uh, she was reckless and careless, and she got herself killed. And well, I ended up pregnant. I found my way to this small group of people that were headed here to Jackson. I guess they had heard it was a community and it was safe. We lost people along the way and sometimes we’d stop and stay somewhere for a month or so if we found it suitable. Anyway, by this time there’s only four of us left and I had my baby…” Tears started freely flowing down your face and Joel gently wiped them away.

“Sweetheart you really don’t have to…” Joel could tell where this was going.

“I need to say it. I’ve never said this out loud and I need to. My son was born, and he was beautiful. But he had colic and so he cried all the time. I did everything I could to keep him quiet as we went but it was putting us in danger, and I knew it. I offered to let them go on without me, I told them that he and I would come when he’d grown out of it. But a little while later I’d woken up to find him dead.” You sobbed. “They had suffocated him, claiming that we’d never get anywhere with him crying all the time and that they didn’t want to leave me behind. I killed them all Joel. I didn’t even hesitate. I pulled my gun out and I shot all three of them and then I left and never turned back.”

Everything came together, it had all started to make perfect sense. You’d held onto this guilt for the last four to five years. Survivors guilt over the loss of your sister, guilt of not being there for your child – something Joel knew all too well, and the guilt of killing people that you once cared about. He completely understood, he too would’ve stayed silent had he been through all that you had. What is there to say when you’ve lost everyone.

Joel held you tighter, allowing you to cry softly into his chest. He wanted to give you a few moments to calm yourself down before he said anything to you. He knew how delicate this situation was, and he needed to do things right.

“Sweetheart, I want to start by saying how sorry I am. I am so sorry you had to go through all of that. I also want you to know that you can’t feel guilty, and I know that it’s easier said than done but darlin’ you did everything you needed to in order to survive. You wouldn’t be here any other way baby girl.” Joel pressed his lips to your forehead.

“Thank you Joel. For being here and for – for listening to me. I can’t quite explain it, but I trust you and so, I don’t know, I just wanted to tell you. Having you around has made me feel better honestly and it’s sort of the only way I can sleep anymore.” You explained.

“I trust you too baby, and you’re not the only one. I sleep better with you here too, having you in my arms these last few months, it’s been amazing. Besides Tommy and Ellie, I think you’re about the only person I trust.” Joel smiled down at you.

From then on, things had changed between Joel and you. He was the only person you talked to, you shared everything with him. Joel and you spent every night together some nights at your place and more recently, some nights at his. Initially, you’d expressed your worries in doing so, you told him you didn’t want the entire town to know, and you were worried about running into Ellie in the hallway.

Joel had told you that there was no need for some public spectacle and that there was no need for worries that it would get out amongst the townies. He also reassured you that Ellie was a good kid, and she could keep a secret.

So, little by little you opened up to Joel, Ellie, and soon enough Maria and Tommy too. The five of you had become a family, you’d found that you fit into it almost too well, so much so that it was beginning to scare you.

Despite your fears, you allowed yourself to fall. Joel had proven to you time and time again that he was there for you and that he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d also gotten you living by the philosophy that tomorrow isn’t guaranteed and you needed to take this life while you had it.

So, you did.

[pearlymel]

I am embarrassed to ask for more but please take your time 😭😭

Having a low social battery and craving cuddles and Boothill knows batteries like no one’s forkin’ business so he takes care of you all night with suffocating affection 😫😭🥺✋💕

Please do not feel required to do this right away, you did an incredible job with my last request!! I am just craving the affection of a man 😵‍💫

synopsis: cuddles with Boothill bcs life sucks </3

Notes: completely sfw and super short, gn!reader. Don't be embarrassed, it makes me happy that people love my work ♡

You hear Boothill's footsteps thudding with each step as he enters the room, but you don't make the effort to look back at him.

It's tiring, everything is. Repeating the same chore over and over everyday without a meaning to it. Nothing ever feels right anymore. Sometimes you question yourself if this was even real—

"Hey, none of that now." Boothill's rough voice snapped you out of your trance. It's like he can sense when something was wrong from how rotten you looked staying in bed.

He takes his hat off, throwing it on the side before settling down on the bed beside you, the weight of the mattress shifting as wrapped his strong arms around you and pulling you close against him, "There ya go, darlin'. Your personal cuddles have arrived." You feel all too warm that it could make you tear up, with your cheek nuzzling against the smooth surface of his chest.

"I may be not as soft as your smooth precious skin, but i think cuddles work the same." He let out a breathy chuckle on top of your head when he noticed how you were quietly laughing to yourself.

"It's perfect." You make sure to tell him, "i want to eat you, affectionately."

"... I don't need ya breaking your teeth now." You lift your head to look at him, your smile slowly slipping away.

"Is it because i refused your request of eating me?"

"No, silly."

He studies your expression closely, bringing a careful hand to caresse your cheek, for his fingers to brush over your eyelids, "did someone bother you? Because i sure will blow their fudging heads off if i find out." You shake your head at his threat, you know he doesn't joke about these things.

"No, just tired." You whisper back with a tired smile spreading over your face, "you sure you're not pushin' yourself too hard?"

You shake your head again, "just low on social battery, i suppose."

"Heh, need a charge?"

You both went silent, his joke still hanging as you stare at eachother, and seeing his awkward face only made you press your forehead against his chest while giggling.

"Yes, i guess i do need to charge." Boothill's expression softens as he listens to your words.

"You just focus on relaxin' now. I'll be right here when you're done charging up." And his arms tighten up more around you, honestly just what you need.

"Boothill, can you like crush me with all your weight?" You ask, your words muffled against his chest but he hears your request.

"you really are something, darlin'." He mutters gruffly, "askin' me to crush you and then takin' it like a champ." He looks down when he notices you not replying, only to see you blink slowly, like you were on the verge of sleep. He rests his cheek on top of your head before closing his eyes to get the needed rest with you.

[drxcorelibre]

Overcoming Distance in Love P.A.

: ̗̀➛ Freeing oneself from long-held desires x

⚠ Genre/warnings: self-insert gen-neutral reader, situationship to lovers idk i just love prom and he deserves this sm, slight nsfw (heated makeout), pinning, atp cindy4life lol, this is so damnn

✎ Reading time: approx. 16min

₊˚ʚ It was as if the months apart had never happened, the chemistry between you still as strong as ever.

₊˚ʚ Prompto pushed himself away from the garage wall and began slowly making his way towards you. Each step he took was measured, his eyes never leaving yours.

₊˚ʚ Suddenly, it was as if a dam burst. All the pent-up emotions, the months of silence, the questions left unasked, came rushing out at once.

The night was quiet, and the stars above were the only witnesses to your departure. The journey to Hammerhead was cold and lonely, the silence only broken by the crunch of gravel under your shoes.

You made your way along the path, the lights of Hammerhead growing closer with each step. The thought of leaving the group behind weighed heavily on your heart, but you had made your decision.

As you finally reached the base of Hammerhead, Cindy, who was working late into the night, noticed your arrival. She looked up from her project, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of you alone.

"Well, now, ain't that a sight," she remarked in her soft drawl, taking in your state. "What're you doin' here this late and by yourself, darlin'?"

"i left the guys."

Cindy's curious expression quickly turned to surprise. "Left the boys, huh? Ain't that somethin'. What happened there, if you don't mind me askin'?"

"just- realised i never belonged."

Cindy's brow furrowed at your words, a hint of concern in her eyes. "Never belonged? What makes you say that?"

"At the end of the day, we girls can't afford to stay with the boys." you chuckled.

Cindy raised an eyebrow at your chuckle, a puzzled look on her face. "Why's that, darlin'? Nothin' wrong with a girl hangin' with the fellas."

"i caught feelings." you said, gripping onto your belongings.

Understanding dawned in Cindy's eyes as you confessed. She looked at you with empathy, seeing the pain behind your words. She took a seat on a nearby crate and patted the spot next to her, gesturing for you to sit. "Come on, sit down. Let's talk."

You hesitantly joined her, sitting on the crate and placing your belongings beside you. The night air was still and quiet, the only noise coming from the faint sounds of machinery and distant crickets.

Cindy looked at you, her voice soft in the moonlight. "So, you been likin' one of the boys, huh? Can't blame ya, they're handsome fellas. Which one was it, if ya don't mind me askin'?"

"Prompto" The thought of him sent tingles down your spine as you spoke his name out loud.

"Ah, Prompto. He's a good kid. Real peppy, always crackin' jokes. Can't really blame ya for falling for him."

She paused, her eyes studying your face, "But somethin' tells me it ain't as simple as just likin' him, is it?"

You played with your bracelets as you spoke nervously, a bit worried for Cindy's judgement of the situation you put yourself in.

"I felt like my feelings could potentially ruin the group dynamic so i left, realising I don't belong."

Cindy chuckled with empathy, "Sounds like a bit of a mess, darlin'."

"But it ain't your feelings that's ruining things. You have a right to feel the way you feel.

Cindy shifted slightly, turning to face you directly. "You ain't ruined nothin' by likin' Prompto. That's just how the heart works, can't always control who you fall for."

"it's fine! I'll get over it..."

Cindy could sense the resignation in your voice, and it tugged at her heartstrings. "It's not gonna be that easy, darlin'. Feelings like that don't just go away, especially not overnight."

You held your head up, looking at her sheepishly. "That's why I came here to ask you... If i could stay here, work, get my mind off of them?"

Cindy's face brightened at your request. "You wanna work here, huh? Well, we could always use an extra pair of hands. Plus, keepin' busy is a good way to keep your mind occupied."

She patted your back with a warm smile. "Sure, darlin'. You can stay and work. I'll teach you the ropes, and before you know it, you'll be a regular mechanic here at Hammerhead."

"thanks"

Cindy gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "No need to thank me, darlin'. We all need a fresh start sometimes, and that's what Hammerhead's all about. New beginnings."

╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. You found solace in the rhythm of the garage, the familiar hum of machines and the hum of the desert night lulling you into a sense of peace. Your days were filled with the scent of oil and the occasional banter with Cindy and Cid, the gruff yet affectionate owner of the garage.

The work was challenging at times, but you found comfort in the routine. The distance from Prompto and the guys allowed you time to process your feelings and come to terms with your new life. Despite the occasional pang of friendsickness, you found a sense of belonging in your new role at Hammerhead.

Over time, you adapted to the garage life, your hands becoming calloused and greasy, your laughter and skills familiar to the regular visitors of Hammerhead, who welcomed you as one of their own.

But every now and then, thoughts of Prompto and the group would creep into your mind, like a faint whisper in the wind. You pushed them aside, reminding yourself of the reasons you had left in the first place. Still, the ache in your chest was undeniable, the memories and what-ifs lingering like a bittersweet perfume. It was a constant struggle, balancing the tranquility of your new life with the lingering pull of the past.

As the familiar sound of the Regalia's engine echoed through the air, you looked up from your work on a nearby car, your heart skipping a beat. It was the chocobros, here for some vehicle upgrades.

Noctis led the charge, followed closely by Ignis, Gladiolus, and... Prompto. Seeing them all again, so casually together, sent a pang of nostalgia and longing through you.

Hiding your feelings behind a neutral expression, you quickly tried to push down the emotions welling up within you. You feigned distraction, continuing to tinker with the car in front of you, hoping they wouldn't notice your internal struggle.

Cindy, however, had a keen eye for reading people. She noticed the flicker of emotion in your eyes as the group approached. She sidled up beside you, a knowing look in her eyes.

"You all right, darlin'?" she whispered, her voice low and understanding. "They can't see it, but I can."

"I'll be alright." You said, wiping oil grease from your cheek, giving her a reassuring smirk.

Cindy gave you a supportive smile, patting your back gently. "You've got guts, holdin' it together like this. 'Course you'll be alright. Just remember, I'm here if you need to vent, scream, or just a shoulder to lean on."

The rest of the group had been engrossed in their conversation, oblivious to your momentary struggle. Prompto's laughter echoed in the background, causing your heart to clench slightly as you tried to focus on your work.

The urge to run towards them and hug them all while spilling so many sorry's went through your mind for a split second, but you knew that won't do.

The guys approached the garage, peeking in at your figure working on some badass vehicles.

Everyone had noticed the transformation. With your new outfit, your voice resembling Cindy's Southern drawl, and your mannerisms changing to match hers, you had become a bit of a chameleon, blending into the environment of the garage.

Noctis, Ignis, and Gladiolus glanced your way, their eyes widening slightly as they took in your appearance and demeanour. But it was Prompto's reaction that caught your attention.

He stood there, stunned for a moment, his eyes wide as he stared at you. The gears in his head were clearly turning as he tried to reconcile the 'new you' with the person he once knew.

He seemed to be at a loss for words, the familiar banter and jokes that usually flowed effortlessly from him were nowhere to be found.

As the group settled in and started discussing the upgrades they wanted for the Regalia, Cindy smoothly took charge. She launched into a friendly negotiation with Noctis, Ignis, and Gladiolus, while Prompto lingered in the background, his eyes still resting on you occasionally.

You, however, tried to keep your focus on your work, pretending not to notice his glances. The sounds of the garage faded into the background as you tried to keep your hands steady and your mind clear.

Every so often, you'd catch a glimpse of Prompto in your peripheral vision, his eyes meeting yours before quickly averting them, looking a bit flustered. The air between you both was heavy with unspoken emotions, an invisible thread of tension stretching tight.

Cindy, ever observant, noticed the silent communication between you and Prompto. She suppressed a slight grin, her eyes flickering between the two of you as she continued her negotiations with the guys.

As they finalized the details with Cindy, the conversation wrapped up, and they began to prepare to leave. Prompto lingered a moment longer, his eyes still on you, his expression a mix of longing and hesitation.

The group sauntered out of the garage, heading toward the nearby restaurant, their voices carrying on the warm evening air. Cindy watched them go, then turned to you with a knowing smile.

"You sure you don't wanna join them, darlin'?" she asked, her tone gentle but laced with encouragement.

"it's better this way."

Cindy nodded understandingly, her smile turning slightly bittersweet. "I get it, darlin'. Sometimes, what you want and what you need are two different things."

As you continued to work on the car, your thoughts were a tangle of emotions. Seeing Prompto and the guys again had stirred up feelings you had been trying to suppress, and their departure left you with a mix of relief and a strange pang of emptiness.

Your heart ached with an unspoken longing, a silent plea for just one more moment, one more look into his eyes. The familiar banter, the laughter, the bond you used to share - it all seemed like a lifetime ago.

The hum of the car under your hands was a temporary distraction, but it couldn't drown out the persistent pull in your chest, the deep-seated desire to see Prompto again, to hear his voice, to feel his presence.

The hours ticked by, the sun slowly descending towards the horizon. The guys finished their meal and emerged from the restaurant, their voices echoing through the still night air as they discussed their plans for the night.

Your eyes found Prompto amongst the group, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the sunset. His gaze roamed over the garage and, for a moment, seemed to linger on you.

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Prompto's gaze fall on you for a moment. Reflexively, you ducked your head, using your long bangs and ponytail as a makeshift shield, hoping he hadn't noticed you watching him.

The sound of the guys' footsteps approaching sent a jolt through you, your senses hyper-alert to every sound and movement. You could hear them saying their goodbyes to Cindy.

Noctis sauntered over to you, an intrigued look in his eyes. He leaned against the hood of the car you were working on, observing you quietly for a moment before finally speaking.

"You've changed a lot, haven't you?" he noted, his voice nonchalant but his eyes studying you with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Still sharp, even in a new shell," he commented, his tone holding a hint of pride. "You're good at adapting."

You couldn't really speak up, although you felt like there was so much to say. You nodded in confirmation, getting back to work.

Noctis watched you silently for a moment, his expression a mix of confusion and a hint of frustration. It was clear he had more to say, but you had already shut him down. He gave a slight shrug, realizing that pushing further would be futile.

"Take care."

The guys climbed into the car, the Regalia's engine roaring to life as they pulled away from the garage, disappearing into the night.

The silence that settled over Hammerhead after they left felt deafening. The hum of the garage, the occasional rustle of the desert wind, and the beating of your own heart were the only sounds left in the stillness of the night.

The thought of them driving off into the night, continuing their adventures without you, stung more than you cared to admit. But you shook the thought away quickly, reminding yourself of the reasons you had left in the first place.

You turned your attention back to the car you were working on, determined to bury yourself in the familiar rhythm of the garage work. The sooner you lost yourself in the work, the sooner you could forget about the ache in your chest.

╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

The days were filled with the hustle and bustle of the garage, and the nights were spent catching up over the dinner table with Cindy and Cid, listening to their stories and sharing a few laughs.

Time had flown by in a blur of car repair and tire changes. The days had been long but filled with the fulfilling sense of accomplishment and routine. 11 months had passed since you had left the group, the pain of separation slowly fading into a dull ache you had learned to live with.

The nights were the hardest, when the silence of the garage seemed deafening, and the memory of Prompto's face would surface in your mind, unbidden.

The sound of the Regalia's engine roaring into the garage was a welcome yet unwelcome intrusion one day. You looked up from the car you were working on to see Noctis, Ignis, Gladiolus, and Prompto stepping out of the car, looking a bit weary but no worse for the wear.

They looked more seasoned, their faces sporting a few more scars, but their eyes were still filled with the familiar determination and bond they had shared since the beginning of their journey.

Noctis, Ignis, and Gladiolus greeted Cindy and Cid with some casual banter, their voices familiar and almost comforting. Prompto lingered a bit behind the rest, his eyes scanning the garage until they landed on you, as if time was repeating.

Your gazes met, and that familiar rush of emotions washed over you both. The weight of the past six months hung heavy in the air, a silent conversation passing between you both through the brief exchange of looks.

A mix of surprise, relief, and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on flickered in Prompto's eyes, but it was gone in an instant as Gladiolus said something, drawing his attention away from you.

You returned your focus to the car, pretending to be busy with tuning, but your heart was racing in your chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Prompto stealing furtive glances in your direction.

Every glance sent a jolt of electricity through you, reminding you of the chemistry you had shared before you left. The silence between you both felt heavy, filled with unspoken words, emotions, and a thousand questions.

You returned to your work, but the ache in your chest grew more insistent.

The evening descended upon Hammerhead, bringing a gentle coolness to the air. The stars above glittered like diamonds against the inky black canvas of the night sky.

The sound of footsteps in the garage startled you, breaking the peaceful silence of the night. You looked up to see the unmistakable silhouette of Prompto, framed by the dim light spilling in from the outside.

Prompto stood at the entrance of the garage, his lean frame casually rested against the door frame. His eyes were fixed on you, studying you intently. He didn't say anything for a moment, just watched you silently.

The air between you was thick with unspoken words, a thousand emotions swirling in the silence. Prompto's eyes were unreadable, his expression a mixture of curiosity.

You couldn't breathe, you couldn't speak.

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you met Prompto's gaze, and suddenly, you found yourself at a loss for words. Your mouth felt dry, your thoughts a tangled mess. It was as if his presence had sucked all the oxygen from the air, leaving you in a state of breathlessness.

You tried to say something, anything, but no words came out. You stared back at him, your eyes wide, your heart thudding loudly in your ears. The silence between you was deafening.

Prompto's gaze had changed. His eyes shone with a new, more masculine air, his once boyish features now sharpened and matured, giving him a more rugged and handsome look.

His blue eyes were like twin pools of shimmering water, seemingly drawing you into him. You noticed the freckles that sprinkle his tan skin like stars on a night sky. His hair was messy yet attractive, falling effortlessly in shaggy layers around his face.

You noticed this change as he looked at you. His gaze was no longer the playful and innocent gaze you had grown to know.

His gaze held a confidence that hadn’t been there before, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

Prompto seemed to sense your inner turmoil, the way your breath hitched and your eyes widened. His gaze softened slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his face.

Prompto pushed away from the door frame and began slowly making his way towards you. Each step he took was measured, his eyes never leaving yours. With every step, the distance between you seemed to shrink, the tension building silently.

As he closed the gap between you, you could see the myriad of emotions playing out in his eyes. He came to a stop just a few steps away from you, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"h-hello again..."

Prompto's expression softened further, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Hey."

His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if he was trying to gauge your response to his presence. He looked at you quietly for a moment more, his eyes searching your face.

The air was filled with a mix of uncertainty and anticipation, both of you teetering on the edge of something unspoken.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You just stood there, watching each other. Prompto's eyes held an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine, and there was a vulnerability in his expression that you had never seen before.

Suddenly, it was as if a dam burst. All the pent-up emotions, the months of silence, the questions left unasked, they all came rushing out at once.

Without a word, Prompto closed the remaining distance between you, his hands reaching out to grasp your arms. He pulled you towards him, his grip firm but gentle, his eyes never leaving yours.

You stumbled slightly as he tugged you closer, your body colliding against his. His breath was warm against your face, and you could feel the rapid beat of his heart mirrored in your own chest.

He stood there, holding you tightly, his eyes roaming over your face, tracing the contours, studying your expression. His fingers started to rub small soothing circles on your skin, sending small frissons of electricity down your spine.

The kiss was sudden and intense, his lips claiming yours with a desperate hunger. It was as if months of pent-up frustration, longing, and unspoken words were poured into that single gesture.

Your mind went blank for a moment, surprised by the sudden contact. But then, a wave of desire washed over you, and your body responded on instinct. Your arms reached up to grip his shirt, pulling him closer, as you returned the kiss with equal fervor.

His hands moved from your arms and settled on the sides of your face, holding you as he deepened the kiss. It was as if the months apart had never happened, the chemistry between you still as strong as ever.

The sound of the boys calling out for Prompto shattered the moment, reminding you that the outside world existed.

Reluctantly, you both pulled away from each other, your breaths ragged and your eyes slightly dazed.

You looked into each other's eyes, both of you trying to regain your composure, the passion of the kiss still lingering on your lips. Prompto looked torn, his gaze reluctantly moving towards the sound of the guys' voices.

You could see the struggle on his face, the desire to stay with you and the pressure to return to the group. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go, taking a step back, putting some distance between you again.

Prompto gave you a small, almost rueful smile, his eyes locking with yours. "Yeah, I'll make sure I do more damage to the Regalia during our trips..." He said, indicating they were all here because of his little mischief.

He glanced back over his shoulder at the direction the guys' voices were coming from. "Duty calls," he said reluctantly, a hint of disappointment in his tone.

Taken by surprise, Prompto stumbled back towards you, his mouth forming a small 'o' as you pulled him in for another kiss. The unexpected gesture caught him off guard, but after a moment, he melted into the kiss, his arms encircling your waist as he held you tightly.

When you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath still a bit ragged. "Wait for me?" he asked, his voice a soft whisper.

"like i always do."

Prompto's breath hitched at your words, and for a moment, he just held you tighter, his eyes searching yours. A mixture of emotions flickered across his face - surprise, hope, and a touch of disbelief.

He closed his eyes and let out a slow exhale. "Damn it," he muttered as if he was both frustrated and relieved. "I can't leave now knowing you need me, can I?"

Prompto pushed you against the garage wall, his body pressing against yours as he captured your lips in another fervent kiss. The cool night air was a contrast against the heat between you. His hands explored the curves of your body, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

The world around you seemed to fall away, the only thing that existed being the two of you, your bodies pressed together, your breaths mingling in the dark. His lips left kisses against your neck, tasting and teasing, igniting a fire that you thought had died months ago.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of footsteps followed by a collective gasp. You looked up to see Noctis, Ignis, and Gladiolus staring at you two, their mouths hanging open.

They stood there, completely taken aback by the sight of you and Prompto locked together against the garage wall. You both froze, your eyes widening in surprise and slight embarrassment at being caught.

Noctis was the first to break the silence, a shocked and almost comical expression on his face as he looked between the two of you. "What the hell?" he blurted out.

Ignis and Gladiolus were both speechless, their eyes wide as they tried to process what they were witnessing. Gladiolus whistled low, breaking the silence with a low, appreciative "damn."

Prompto pulled away from you, his hands still holding onto your waist as he turned to face the others. He looked sheepish and a bit guilty, a flush creeping up his cheeks. "Uh, Hey guys..."

Noctis pinched his nose and you pushed Prompto lightly towards them. "You gotta go."

Prompto gave you an almost pleading look, as if he didn't want to leave, but seeing your insistence, he reluctantly let go of you, a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

Noctis, still looking utterly bewildered, just shook his head slightly, mumbling something along the lines of "I can't believe this." Ignis, chuckled at the prince's comment.

Ignis and Gladiolus had similarly surprised expressions on their faces, though Gladiolus just looked amused and somewhat impressed. He clapped a hand on Prompto's shoulder as they started walking back to the Regalia, Prompto throwing one last glance back at you before disappearing into the night.

The ache in your chest was replaced by a feeling of affection as you anticipated your next encounter with Prompto, envisioning another good memory to cherish.

@drxcorelibre - do not steal, plagiarise or repost my posts on any other social media. This is my only account.

[shipperssafehaven]

Earth 42 Miles Morales x plus size black reader hcs

As well intentioned as they were, your family’s compliments always tended to be on the backhanded side 

Like whenever your thin cousins were getting attention from boys you had interest in, you had some relative whispering in your ear, “Looks ain’t everything, you’ll find you a nice boy.”

Or when you wore crop tops or shorts, they’d eye you like CRAZY and question you relentlessly: 

“You wearing that?”  “Yep.”  “You sure you don’t want a jacket with that or something?” 

It never got to you per se, just made you feel like you should be insecure even though you weren’t. You didn’t really mind your looks or your body for that matter, but every time they pointed out that you had a beautiful personality or that your shape was “unique”, a small part of you thought maybe you weren’t… physically attractive.                                                     

Enter Miles Morales

You met him at a party of all places 

Originally, you came with some friends who practically forced your attendance but they all ended up splitting up after some guys came up to you in an attempt to get to them.  

And you played along despite your irritation because you knew damn well tagging along was a bad idea and you were already prepared to sneak out the door when they were distracted 

So here’s how it played out:  your head was hung as you had a foot out the door, fully ready to leave. Only you stopped because you were hit with a sudden prickle of awareness that someone was staring... and not regular staring either. It was like someone was burning a damn hole in your head 

You did a complete 180 and turned back around to the party and through a bunch of dancing teenagers, you saw him 

He was leaning against a wall, head tilted and all. He whispered something to his homeboy but still managed to keep his gaze locked solely on you  

 And you couldn’t lie... it had your stomach in knots 

Like you were down bad from A LOOK

But in all fairness, no one had ever looked at you like that before and what made it crazier was that he WASN’T looking away ?? And now in return, you found yourself not being able to either ??

Eventually though, after five seconds or five minutes (you weren’t sure), your friend saw you near the door and called out to you causing you to finally advert your eyes else where 

“You leaving already?”  “Yeah.”  “You sure?”  “What do you mean--” 

She was grinning, gesturing back to the boy’s direction and you were baffled to see him quite literally pushing people outta the way to get to you before you could leave 

It would’ve taken a person at least 3 minutes to get through that crowd but he did it in a total of 10 seconds, and that’s when you knew everything was about to change 

And the rest was history                                                          

From the moment he met you, Miles was mesmerized by you. Every curve. Every smile. Every laugh. Every word you spoke. It took one night for him to know you were it 

You had this man listening to Jodeci on the walk home, LIKE HE FELL IN LOVE instantly 

After talking to you for only an hour, he was asking to take you out

“Let me take you out on a real date, Ma. Without all the noise and people.” “Boy, I’ve known you for an hour. You don’t think it’s too soon?” “Einstein did say time was relative y’know.”  “Miles... I don’t know.” “Look, mami, I’m askin’ you for one date. That’s it. You like me, we’ll see where it goes. You don’t, just tell me to kick rocks and I’ll fall back.”

 And after one date, he knew you weren’t going anywhere so he introduced you to his mom

“Oh, Miles, she’s beautiful.” “Ain’t she.”

And after introducing you to Mama Morales (who loved you deep), he asked you to be his girl despite being nervous cause he’s never been serious about anyone before 

“I’m not tryna scare you or rush you, mami. I just know what I want and that’s you.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

You folded immediately and kissed that boy let’s be honest. You stood no chance when he was talking like that c’mon now. In his mind, you were a sure thing, and it left you stunned to know that                                                   

Being with Miles was a lot different than you expected. Initially, you thought he appeared cold and closed off. He seemed like he held the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you figured maybe that’d follow into your relationship

 But nah

Miles Morales in any universe was soft with his girl 

Every time he saw you, he’d greet you by taking your face into his hands and gently kissing your forehead. And I mean EVERY TIME

His arm thrown over your shoulder on every walk home? Yep. Holding your hand under the table the first time he met your family? Of course. His fingers pulling you close by your belt loops just to place a delicate peck to your cheek? Absolutely. Him practically racing your ass to the door so he can hold it open for you? Yeah. 

Like that boy would die for you without hesitation 

He was surprisingly open too 

He would lay his head in your lap and tell you stories about his dad for hours and it’d usually end with you wrapping your arms around him after wiping a stray tear or two 

“Sometimes I get scared that he wouldn’t like who I turned out to be.” “Don’t let that live in your head, baby. If anything you told me about that man was true then there’s nothing in this world you could do to make him stop loving your crazy ass.”  “I hope so, Ma. I really do.”  “Just take my word for it.”  “He would’ve loved you, you know.”  

Your connection only got stronger by each passing day                                                       

Now...  back to your family. They were SHOCKED when they met Miles. Those backhanded compliments went from you being able to brush them off to fully getting under your skin 

And the reason it stung so damn bad was because they meant well 

Your aunt nearly tripped on her own two feet when that boy came to the family cookout. She was immediately pulling you to the side to ask how you managed to pull it off 

Then you had your mama coming to your defense with a: “My baby’s just got a great personality. That’s all that matters at the end of the day.”

And she was right but... damn. It felt like they didn’t think it was possible for someone like Miles (or anyone, really) to think you were cute. It hurt the little girl inside you that was buried with insecurities 

Growing up as a bigger girl, people never showed interest in you like that because you didn’t fit the “norm” 

Sure, there were a few boys who eyed you, but they never made it a point to step up to you and ask you out. They were always too embarrassed or cowardly 

 Then Miles came along and erased all that

 Whenever you tried to deny food, he’d kiss his teeth and give it to you anyway 

“One thing you not gonna do is starve my girl.” 

Or when you’d be looking in the mirror, muttering something under your breath about your figure, he’d come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist letting his head rest on your shoulder

“Watch how you talk ‘bout my woman, mami.” 

Or when you subconsciously laid your arms over your stomach so they were covering it, he’d grab your hand without saying a word 

With Miles, you had to unlearn all the habits you picked up and it was a challenge at first but you were better for it. He loved you so much that it made you wonder why you didn’t always love yourself

So when your family was in your damn ear, acting all surprised you cuffed him, you were folding back into your old self a lil bit

You managed to ignore them 

... until you were sitting at the dinner table with Miles by your side 

Your aunt was firing question after question at him, and he patiently answered each one 

Then she pulled out the one that had the room falling silent and your heart aching

“Well, how’d she get your attention? I always pictured [name] with a bigger boy- you know, someone like her... who could... keep up with her and... hold her.”

The hand that was holding yours under that table got tight real quick lmao 

You could tell he was biting the fuck out of his tongue and his jaw was clenched for a split second. You were half scared he was about to pick your ass up outta your chair to prove her wrong 

“The only person I picture her with is me so nah, I don’t know. As for how she got my attention? She had it from the moment I saw her. What you should be askin’ is how I got hers. God knows I ain’t deserving of it.” 

You had the biggest lump in your throat and your eyes were watering, and all you could do was send him a wavering smile 

Your feelings for him ran deep but it was in that moment that you knew you loved him 

At that point in the relationship, you were happier than ever. But those comments made by the people you love most created a doubt that wouldn’t let up 

There was this lingering thought in the back of your head that Miles wasn’t attracted to you  

You were sitting on his bed one day while he was sitting at his desk drawing something in that book of his 

When you finally couldn’t handle the loudness of your thoughts anymore, you straight up asked him to talk you down 

Immediately, he was sitting in front of you taking your hands into his. When he asked you what was wrong, you simply frowned 

“Do you find me attractive?”

You might as well have slapped that boy. He was stunned. He tilted his head to the side and looked at you like you lost your damn mind 

“You being serious, Ma?” “Extremely.” “Why you even askin’ me that?” “Why aren’t you answering?” “Cause it’s a stupid question. You know you the most beautiful woman to me.”

You looked down at that and shook your head, feeling bad that outside opinions were starting to make you pick arguments 

Then you had him picking up your chin, forcing you to look at him 

One thing about Miles was he wasn’t going to let you just argue- you were going to properly communicate your feelings one way or the other 

“What would make you think otherwise, huh?” “Look, it took me a long time to like myself. I ain’t nearly as insecure as I was, but sometimes with my family- they just- they just make me feel like I should be, you know?” “I see.”  “And that’s got nothing to do with you, baby. I swear up and down that I feel secure with you. I just know them, and I know they think you’re with me solely cause of my heart.” 

Miles brought both your hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to each 

“You’ve got the most beautiful soul I know, but I ain’t know all that until I talked to you.” 

He got up abruptly and grabbed that book he was drawing in off his desk and then turned back to you. Without a word, he handed it to you. 

You were hesitant to look inside and waited for his nod of approval and once you got it, all you were greeted with when you opened the book was yourself 

Flipping through the pages you saw pages dedicated to your curves alone. You saw every twinkle in your eyes, every smile, every mark on your body, and it amazed you that he viewed you like this.

Choked up, you barely got out, "You drew these?" "I drew you so damn much that I had to get you your own book. Cause like I said, mami, you the most beautiful woman to me."

He crouched down in front of you, returning the smile you so effortlessly wore now. You leaned forward until your forehead was resting on his and let him go on

"Don't get me wrong,” Miles started, placing his hand over your heart, “this is what I love best- it’s my favorite thing. But you wanna know what made me push all them people outta the way to get to you that night? That was pure attraction.” 

All in all, with Miles, you felt more beautiful than ever. And those days when you would question it, he was always there to put to bed all your doubts and insecurities. That boy loved you more than life itself 

[nerdieforpedro]

Front Covers and WIPs

Thank you to amazing @saradika for gifting us all these cool Penguin Classic Book Cover Templates 😘

I was tagged by @604to647 and @morallyinept and their front covers are amazing so here we go!

Most of the series are on Tumblr but one or two might be on AO3 (I’m still trying to figure out what designs I might use for them. 👀)

Presenting: (With my brand of humor 😘)

The above fics are linked here: 🤣

Sard’ika Sessions / AO3 - Din Djarin x fem reader

Only Parts of You Mr. Morales / AO3 - Frankie Morales x fem OC

The Lake Between Us / AO3 - Ezra x fem OC

Honey and Sugarplum (AO3 only) Jack Daniels x fem OC

Fire and Fury / AO3 - Pero Tovar x fem OC

Weddings 101 with Dieter / AO3 - Dieter Bravo x Maya fem OC

This is the Neighborhood Din / AO3 - Din Djarin (modern version and Grogu is human) x fem OC

Green Shop of Memories (AO3 only) Marcus Moreno x fem. OC

Come live with me Angel / AO3 - Benny Miller x fem. OC

Front Office Adjunct (AO3 only) Dave York x fem. OC

I’m combining this with WIP Wednesday since I haven’t done one for a while:

“Now that’s a lie sweetheart and you know it.” His voice is low and makes her laugh. She highly doubts this, she had no idea that things would turn out this way so quickly. Before she can offer a rebuttal, Benny grabs her wrist and kisses the inside of it. “You’ve had me since we sang ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ and I wouldn’t let go of your hand. I haven’t let go of you since Angel.”

From chapter four (I’m working on it) of “Come live with me Angel” with Benny Miller and Diana (OC)

Also this:

Rolling his eyes as he watches some older woman in a yellow track suit walking a poodle and eyeing him like he doesn’t belong, he flips her the bird as she stomps away, “Nope. I did give the finger to this old woman looking at me like I’m a round peg in a square in my own damn neighborhood. She’s one of those that would calm the cops for dumb shit.” He pauses a beat, “You finished reading? Anything you wanna ask?” The older woman yells some obscenities while her dog barks at its owner’s behavior. Dieter pays no mind and starts circling the tree he’s standing next to, trying to work off some of his anxiety. “First impression at least, give me something Aisha. Any direction you might be heading with it.”

From chapter six of “A Safe Place for Us” with Dieter and Aisha. Because I can’t help but make things serious as of recently. I need more whimsy. 🥸

Last one, kinda long but, it’s me I’m long winded 🤣:

“I enjoy many a meal. A real man ain’t picky darlin’. However, I know a good brunch place that has good food and good drinks. Think we might make an afternoon of it?”

”Asking for so much of my time already? You think you’ll keep me interested that long?”

”Sugarplum, I think the real question ya should be askin’ yourself,” Jack had the nerve to move his hand from her shoulder to her hip, squeezing it and whistling when he felt how supple her flesh was as he jiggle it, “Are you going to let me dine on a particular meal I’m looking for?” A second kiss was placed on her cheek and he was pulling back his hand, but Maeve placed it back.

”I might. You’ll need to work me into it like you said Jack. Mind if we talk more first?”

This one is from Honey and Sugarplum with Jack Daniels and a fem OC. Their banter in chapter one makes me giggle no matter how many times I read it. I’m going to get it on Tumblr one day. 👀

NPT: @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @lotusbxtch @magpiepills

@syd-djarin @sin-djarin @avastrasposts @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @maggiemayhemnj

@jolapeno @goodwithcheese @secretelephanttattoo @bitchwitch1981 @burntheedges

@kilamonster @fhatbhabiee @inept-the-magnificent @yopossum @yourcoolauntie

@din-cognito @djarins-cyare @alltheglitterandtheroar @for-a-longlongtime @musings-of-a-rose

@tinytinymenace @trulybetty @iamskyereads @schnarfer @baronessvonglitter

@professionalpromqueen @pedroshotwifey @murder-wife @sunshinehaze1 @rosecentaur1916

@chaithetics @perotovar @grogusmum @gwendibleywrites

[msilwrites]

Size Doesn't Matter-Just Ask Johnny and Roach (Simon 'Ghost' Fic)

Gamekeeper! Reader, Groundskeeper! Reader, Ex-MI5! Reader, Stalker! Reader, Naughty! Ghost, Naughty! Simon, Stalker! Reader, Menace! Reader, Devil Woman! Reader! Possessive! Reader, Protective! Reader, Sunshine! Reader, Shy! Reader, Introvert! Reader,

Click here for Part 1 | This is Part 2

A/N: This story features the same Y/N (that’s YOU!!) from How I met your Mother, Midnight Snack Mystery, The Mystery of Who Dressed the LT Like That?, and The Mystery of Ghost's Better Half. And is the sequel to 'The Petite Mystery'. Genre: Comedy / Fluff

Summary: Johnny and Roach’s nosy curiosity lands them in hot water when they discover that their LT’s "Sweet little bird” is neither as sweet nor as little as they assumed. What starts as a simple interrogation spirals into chaos when Captain Price tries to step in, only to become another “guest” in her workshop. With everyone questioning how their LT ended up with someone so terrifyingly competent, the day quickly devolves into a mix of panic, laughs, and begrudging admiration. Chaos indeed ensues.

Warning: This is a long, funny, hostage, situation. Also, do not read when hungry

----------

Johnny and Roach woke hours later, groggy and blinking against the harsh glare of fluorescent lights. Their heads throbbed as they took in their surroundings: a workshop-like room filled with tools, jars of strange substances, and shelves that looked more suited to a mad scientist than a cozy home.

Both men were tied to metal chairs, hands bound behind their backs and legs secured to the base. Roach gave an experimental tug at his bindings, while Johnny just groaned, squinting at the faint outline of someone standing across the room.

"Well, well, well," came a voice, smooth but sharp, with an authority that made both men freeze. "Look who’s awake."

Johnny blinked hard, trying to focus on the figure. It was her—the woman they’d been tailing. She leaned casually against the workbench, arms crossed, her face partially hidden behind a mask. Her posture was relaxed, but there was something unnervingly deliberate about her presence.

"Don’t bother trying to wriggle free," she said, a hint of sarcasm in her tone. "Even if you did, you’d still be stuck in my house, and trust me—you’re not getting out until we’ve had a nice little chat."

Johnny groaned again, his accent thick as his temper flared. “Wha’s this? Who the hell are ye? An’ what—what in the bloody hell’s goin’ on?” His words were slurred, and he blinked owlishly, as though his brain was still buffering.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Who I am isn’t really the issue here. You, on the other hand, have a lot of explaining to do."

Johnny’s mind was still catching up, but his temper—his Scottish temper—was coming through loud and clear. He clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling up as he took stock of the situation. “Aye, well, ye’ve got a real bloody charming way of treatin’ guests, lass,” he snapped, his accent cutting sharper with each word. “Ye don’t think yer messin’ with the wrong two folk, do ye? This some kind of joke? What the hell’s yer game here? 'Cause I don’t ken what ye think you’re—”

She cut him off with a low, humorless laugh, stepping closer, her movements smooth and calculated. "Game?" she echoed, her words now rolling in a thick Scottish brogue that stopped him mid-rant. She leaned in just enough to make him feel the weight of her presence, even through the mask. “Ye think this is a game, laddie? Ach, ye dinnae ken a bloody thing. Yer tied tae a chair in my house, so maybe keep yer yap shut till I’m done askin’ questions, aye?”

Johnny blinked, her shift in accent throwing him completely off guard. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His brain was trying to piece things together, but her sudden shift was like a punch to the gut.

Her piercing gaze flicked between the two of them, unimpressed. “Now then,” she said, stepping back and crossing her arms as she studied them both. “Let’s hear it. What are ye two doin’, pokin’ yer noses where they don’t belong? Or d’ye need me tae loosen yer tongues fer ye?”

Johnny’s jaw dropped, and for a moment, he could only stare at her. Then, the words tumbled out before he could stop them: “Wait... ye’re Scottish?”

Her expression didn’t change, but her eyes narrowed slightly. "Aye,” she said flatly, her tone daring him to say more. “An’?”

Johnny blinked again, scrambling to find the right words. “Yer... Scottish?” he repeated, still trying to process.

“Aye,” she said again, her patience clearly wearing thin. “What of it, lad?”

Johnny gawked, his mind spinning. Finally, he managed, “Yer accent—it’s... ach, I dunno—ye’re just—”

“Just what?” she cut in sharply, the edge in her voice making him shrink back in his seat. “Go on, laddie. Say it. Finish yer thought.”

He clamped his mouth shut, swallowing hard as her glare bore into him. “Nothin’,” he muttered, his eyes darting nervously to Roach, who was still too dazed to bail him out.

“Good,” she said, her tone curt as she crouched to his eye level, her voice dropping lower. “Now, since ye seem tae have plenty tae say, here’s what’s gonna happen. Ye’re gonna tell me why ye’ve been sneakin’ aboot, or I’ll make ye talk. And trust me, Johnny boy,” she added, her brogue thick and sharp as a blade, “ye really dinnae want me tae make ye talk.”

Johnny swallowed again, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Roach, still bleary, muttered under his breath, “We’re so dead.”

Her lips curled into a wry smile. "Dead?" she echoed, her voice light but carrying an unmistakable weight. “Ach, if I wanted ye dead, ye’d already be six feet under. Now then,” she straightened, her hands resting on her hips. “Are ye gonna talk, or do I need tae get creative?”

Johnny looked helplessly at Roach, then back at her. For the first time in his life, Johnny was well and truly at a loss for words.

--------- Interogation Begins

---------- Not THE MOHAWK!!

The air in the room felt tense as Johnny and Roach sat back-to-back, bound to their chairs. Y/N circled them slowly, the hum of a buzzing clipper in her hand making Johnny’s neck prickle with dread.

“Right, lads,” she began, her voice silky but sharp, her Scottish lilt thickening with every word. “Ye dinnae want tae cooperate? Fine. Let’s see how brave ye are when yer precious mohawk gets a wee trim.”

Johnny’s eyes widened. “Naw, naw, ye wouldn’t dare! The hawk’s sacred!” He tried to twist his head around but couldn’t see her. Roach craned his neck, trying to get a look too, but all he could see was Johnny’s panicked face.

The clipper buzzed louder as Y/N leaned in, her breath just behind Johnny’s ear. “Sacred, ye say? Let’s make a wee offering tae the gods, then.” She let the clipper glide gently over his head, careful not to touch, and tilted her phone discreetly to emit the buzzing sound.

Johnny froze as he heard the distinct zzzzrrrt of hair being shaved off. He squeezed his eyes shut, his voice cracking. “Please, lass! No! Anything but the hawk! It’s me identity!”

“Oh, aye,” Y/N said with mock sympathy, holding up a small clump of fur she’d smuggled in from the nature reserve earlier. With a theatrical flourish, she let it flutter past Johnny’s eyes.

Johnny let out a wail. “My hair! Roach, do somethin’!”

Roach, already sweating, stammered, his voice sharp with panic. “Mate, I… I think we’re buggered! She’s mad, proper mad!”

“Aye, I am mad,” Y/N said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “An’ if ye think I’ll stop at the hawk, ye’ve got another thing comin’. Next, I’ll be carving little hearts into yer mate’s eyebrows.”

“No! Not the brows!” Roach yelped.

Johnny whimpered, gripping the edges of his chair. “Fine! Fine, I’ll talk! Just stop, for the love of—stop!”

Y/N tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “Talk, then. What’s yer name?”

Johnny gulped, his pride warring with his terror. “It’s Johnny. Johnny Mac—” He hesitated.

The clipper buzzed closer to his temple, and another tuft of fur fell into view. “Mac what?” Y/N pressed, her tone as sharp as the blade she wasn’t actually using.

“Mactavish!” Johnny finally blurted out, his voice cracking. “John ‘Soap’ Mactavish! There! Ye happy now, ye devil woman?”

Y/N straightened up, letting out a low, satisfied hum as she clicked off her phone. “Soap, eh? Funny. Ye’re more like a wee bairn covered in bubbles the way ye’re greetin’.”

Roach let out a shaky laugh, but it quickly died as Y/N turned her gaze to him, her tone suddenly cool and clipped. “An’ you, laddie,” she said, her smile sly. “Feelin’ brave, or shall I see how much hair ye’ve got tae spare?”

Roach immediately tensed, eyes wide. “N-nope! I’m good! Absolutely good!”

Johnny groaned, his head sagging forward. “She’s a bloody menace,” he muttered, glaring at the clumps of what he thought was his hair on the ground.

Y/N smirked, leaning in to pat Johnny’s shoulder. “A menace? Aye. But at least I’m a thorough one.”

----------

Not THE EYEBROWS!!

Y/N shifted her attention to Roach, who sat frozen, his face pale and slick with sweat. She leaned in close, waving the buzzing clippers ominously near his face. “Yer turn, laddie ,” she said. “Tell me what I want tae know, or these pretty brows of yours are getting a wee makeover.”

Roach flinched, instinctively trying to lean back, but the bindings held him firm. “Eyebrows? You—you wouldn’t dare!” he stammered, his voice quaking. “That’s bloody barbaric!”

“Barbaric?” Y/N repeated, tilting her head with a mock pout. “Barbaric’s dragging me intae this mess in the first place, innit? So, aye, I think barbarism’s fair game.” She casually clicked the clippers on again, the hum sending a jolt straight to Roach’s nerves.

“Wait, wait!” Roach panicked, words spilling from his mouth. “Gary! Gary Sanderson! Call sign’s Roach! There, I said it! No need for funny business with my eyebrows!”

Y/N grinned, her tone light and satisfied. “Gary ‘Roach’ Sanderson, eh? Lovely name.” She stepped back, setting the clippers aside with a theatrical flourish. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Johnny groaned, his head still hung low. “Roach, ye coward! I held out longer!”

“Held out longer?” Roach shot back indignantly. “Mate, you folded like a lawn chair at the first buzz!”

Before their bickering could escalate, Y/N pulled a compact mirror out of her pocket, flicked it open with a little flair, and held it up in front of Johnny. His reflection stared back at him, his mohawk completely intact and untouched. She tilted the mirror just enough to angle it toward Roach as well.

Johnny blinked, his hand instinctively jerking toward his head before realizing he couldn’t move. “Wait… it’s still there? My hawk’s safe?” His voice cracked with emotion, his lip wobbling slightly.

Roach let out a long sigh of relief, his whole body relaxing. “Bloody hell, thank God.”

“Safe, aye,” Y/N said, her voice syrupy sweet. “For now.”

Johnny narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. “Then whose hair is that on the floor, eh?”

Y/N’s smile turned cold, her tone dropping to something darker, more menacing. She held up her phone and flicked to a picture—a tuft of fur strewn over leaves, unmistakably from something once alive. “Oh, that? Just a wee bit of fur from a creature I culled meself. Needed to make space in its den.”

The room fell silent.

Johnny’s jaw dropped, his face draining of color. “A… creature?”

Roach visibly shuddered, his eyes darting toward the tufts of fur scattered on the floor. “What kind of creature?”

Y/N’s grin widened, and she leaned in just enough for her shadow to loom over them both. “The kind that doesn’t like uninvited guests sniffin’ around its territory. Ye’d best keep that in mind.”

The two men exchanged a look, both visibly rattled. Johnny swallowed hard. “Roach, mate, we’re proper buggered, aren’t we?”

“Completely,” Roach muttered, his voice barely a whisper. ---------

The Bagpipe Barrage

Y/N leaned against the wall, her phone in hand, scrolling with a thoughtful expression. “Right then, lads,” she said, her voice deceptively calm, “where ye from? Who sent ye?”

Johnny and Roach exchanged wary glances, the air thick with tension. Neither man spoke, both visibly uncomfortable under her penetrating gaze.

Without missing a beat, Y/N connected her phone to the small Bluetooth speaker on the nearby table. “Well, if yer no’ going to talk, I suppose I’ll have to make things a little more... persuasive.” She tapped a few keys on her phone, and within moments, the first few notes of an off-tune bagpipe rendition of Scotland the Brave hit the air—discordant, grating, and completely out of time. It sounded like the bagpipes were being played by someone wildly panicked, possibly being chased by a herd of cows.

Johnny recoiled, his face twisted in horror. “What the bloody hell is that?! That’s nae music—that’s pure torture!”

Y/N raised the volume slightly, her smile widening as the screeching pipes blared louder. “Oh, ye’ll come to love it, Johnny. Trust me, it’s very… authentic.”

Roach’s face drained of color as he frantically pulled at the ropes binding his wrists. “Make it stop! I’ve heard cats fighting in the alley sound better than this!”

Y/N glanced over at him with an almost fond expression. “Aye, well, if you think that’s bad, ye’re in for a real treat, lad.” She leaned in, her tone dripping with amusement. “Now, let’s try this again. Where are ye from? Who sent ye?”

Johnny clenched his jaw, refusing to budge, though his eyes betrayed the panic beginning to set in.

Roach was visibly breaking. “Y/N, please, please turn it off! I cannae take it!” His voice cracked, the sound mixing with the relentless drone of the bagpipes.

Y/N clicked the volume up again, letting the off-key melody blast through the room. “No can do, lads. Not until ye answer me. Who sent ye, and who do ye work for?”

Johnny bit his lip, eyes welling up with frustration. “I—I’m nae tellin’ ye anything! No matter what this is, I’m not breakin’!”

Roach, now teary-eyed, started to mumble under his breath. “I can’t… it’s too much… please make it stop…!"

Johnny’s face twisted with anger and defeat, but the sheer force of the bagpipes was getting to him. Finally, with a ragged breath, he snapped, “Fine! I’ll tell ye! Just turn off the bloody music!”

Y/N grinned, lowering the volume slightly, giving them a sliver of hope. “There we go, Johnny. Was that so hard?”

Johnny gritted his teeth, his resolve crumbling. “I—no, I won’t say! I won’t betray my team!”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, the volume cranking up again. “Fair enough. Let’s see how long yer will lasts, then.”

Johnny’s eyes were wild with panic now, and Roach was visibly sweating, his breathing shallow. “Bloody hell, make it stop! Please, I can’t take it anymore!”

The music looped again, each rendition of the bagpipes scraping more against their nerves than before. Johnny and Roach were shaking, eyes pleading for mercy.

Y/N waited. Silent. Watching.

When their cries became unbearable, she cut the volume down just enough to let them catch their breath. “So, who sent ye?” she asked again, her voice casual, almost bored.

Johnny looked at Roach, both of them defeated. “I… I can’t…”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, the volume edging slightly higher.

Roach let out a strangled sob. “Johnny, just bloody talk already! I can’t take it anymore! Please, lady, have mercy!”

She smirked, lowering the volume just enough for them to catch their breaths. “Mercy’s earned, Roach. Now, spill it.”

But they both clamped up again, realizing their mistake, and the bagpipes blared back to full strength.

The room descended into chaos—Johnny trying to hum over the noise, Roach muttering a string of British curses under his breath, and Y/N standing serenely, watching them squirm with the patience of a saint.

Her voice cut through the cacophony once more, calm but firm. “We’ve got all day, lads. It’s yer eardrums, not mine.”

Johnny whimpered, his voice barely audible over the screeching bagpipes. “Roach… mate… we’re not gettin’ out o’ this, are we?”

“No,” Roach croaked. “We’re bloody doomed.”

----------

The Call

The silence in the room stretched out, the bagpipes still blaring, filling the space with a relentless screech. Johnny and Roach were both trembling now, caught between fear and exhaustion. Y/N, having momentarily paused her torment, watched them with a mixture of amusement and patience. She was prepared to wait them out.

Then, a sudden sound broke through the chaos—a phone vibrating against the floor. Y/N raised an eyebrow and walked over to Johnny, who froze as she reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone. She glanced at the caller ID. “‘Coin,’ and a bag of money emoji?” Y/N chuckled darkly. “That’s how yer boss is listed? Cunning, I’ll give him that.” She tapped the screen, setting the phone to speaker mode.

Johnny’s eyes widened in horror, and Roach’s breath caught in his throat.

“Where the hell are you two?” the gruff voice on the other end demanded. “And can you pick up something for me before you head back to base?”

Johnny and Roach both screamed, their voices desperate and panicked. “Captain! HELP! They’ve got us! They’ve—”

“Hold up.” The voice on the phone cut through the room, and Y/N held up a finger, silencing the two men before they could speak more.

Y/N's smirk never wavered as she turned to face Johnny and Roach. The phone still on speaker, she made her voice as cold and threatening as possible.

"Listen here, Captain," she began, her tone casual yet lethal. "I’ve got your men in my custody. And if you're not willing to cooperate, they'll stay here, and we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other... in ways I'm sure you won't enjoy."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, but then Price's voice cracked through, sharp and unwavering. "Who the hell are you? What have you done to my men?"

Y/N's grin widened, as she leaned back, enjoying every second of this power play. "I'm the one asking questions here, Captain," she said, her tone taking on a mocking edge. "So how about you start answering, or I'll just keep your lads here a little longer. Let’s see how long their loyalty lasts, shall we?"

There was a growl of frustration from the other end, and then a deep, threatening voice responded, each word laced with menace. “You have no idea who you're dealing with. Release my men now, or I’ll come for you. And when I do, you’ll regret every second of this.”

Y/N chuckled darkly, her voice dripping with taunting amusement. “Oh, I’ll be waiting for you, Captain. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

She ended the call with a swipe of her finger and turned slowly to face Johnny and Roach. Their faces were pale, eyes wide with fear, as they sat frozen in their chairs, the tension in the room thick and suffocating.

Johnny's eyes darted from the phone to her, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “Who the bloody hell are you to threaten our Captain?”

Roach swallowed hard, his hands still bound, his breath shallow. "You're... you're playing with fire, lass." His voice trembled, and it was clear his fear was genuine.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, a cruel smile curling at the corner of her lips. "That was just a warning, lads," she said, stepping closer, her voice lowering to a cold whisper. "But trust me, it’s not over yet."

The room fell silent, both men exchanging a look that spoke volumes—resignation, fear, and the dawning realization that they were in way over their heads.

----------

Their Roommate

Y/N stood, her hands resting casually on her hips as she surveyed Johnny and Roach, still tied to their chairs, their faces pale and anxious. "While we wait for yer Captain to come find ye," she said, her voice light, "I thought I’d introduce ye to yer new roommate."

Johnny looked at her, his brow furrowed. “What the hell are ye talking about now?”

With a smirk, Y/N walked over to a nearby table, lifting a large, glass terrarium and placing it gently on the surface in front of them. Inside, a massive stag beetle crawled lazily across the rocks, its dark wings shimmering under the light.

“Meet yer new roommate,” Y/N announced, her eyes glinting with amusement. "This here is... well, I haven’t named her yet, but we’ll get to that. She’s lovely, and she’s going to be living with ye for a while. Unless ye talk, of course. Then ye might be free."

Roach’s eyes immediately widened, and he recoiled in his chair as though the beetle could leap straight out at him. “What the hell is that for?” he demanded, his voice high-pitched with panic.

Y/N tilted her head innocently, reaching into the terrarium with care and picking up the beetle by hand. She held it in front of them, her expression almost maternal. “Ye’re Roach, aye? Thought ye’d feel at home wi' yer wee cousin here.”

Roach shook his head vigorously, his eyes never leaving the beetle. “That thing’s not my cousin!”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile growing wicked. “Maybe nae, but imagine this sittin' on yer knee if ye dinnae start talkin’.” She held the beetle just inches from Roach’s knee, her gaze unwavering.

With that, she turned to Johnny. “Now, Johnny, meet yer new roommate.”

Johnny's eyes followed the beetle, his face draining of color. He stared at the dark, glossy creature in Y/N’s hand, his throat tightening. “Bloody hell!” he shouted, his face twisted in pure horror.

Roach pulled his chair back, wide-eyed and pale. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Y/N chuckled, thoroughly enjoying their reactions. "Now, now, lads. Be polite to yer new roommate." She raised the beetle and hovered it near Johnny’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t want to be rude now, would we?”

Johnny let out a high-pitched whine, squirming in his chair. "Get that bloody thing away from me!"

Y/N smirked, lowering it just enough to brush the beetle’s legs against his arm. Johnny recoiled, eyes wide, and she saw a tear escape down his cheek.

“Oh, look at ye, Johnny. Big tough soldier, crying over a little bug,” she teased, before turning her attention to Roach. “Roach, ye sure yer nae related to this fine specimen here? Ye’re acting like ye’ve never met family before.”

Roach clenched his jaw, his face white as a sheet. “That’s not my cousin, lass. And if ye don’t take that bloody thing away from me, I’ll—”

Before he could finish, Y/N, with a calm and almost affectionate expression, placed the beetle gently on his leg. His entire body froze, and his voice caught in his throat.

"Get it off! GET IT OFF!" Roach yelled, his entire body trembling as he tried to shake it off without success.

Johnny’s cries grew more frantic as he watched. "Oh, gosh, I can’t handle this! I cannae deal with this bloody thing!"

Y/N scolded them both, but it was playful, almost like she was talking to children. "Honestly, ye two, the way ye’re carrying on, it’s like ye’ve never had a wee beetle on yer leg before. She’s just sayin’ hello. Show a bit of respect."

She lifted the beetle off Roach’s leg and placed it carefully back into the terrarium, watching as both men finally relaxed—though their faces were still riddled with fear and disgust.

“You two really need to be nicer to her,” she said, putting a hand on the terrarium lid as if it was her own child. “She’s got feelings, ye know. Can’t just treat her like that.”

As the beetle was carefully placed back into the terrarium, Johnny and Roach were both trembling, their faces a mixture of fear and embarrassment. Roach’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his body stiff with the lingering dread of having the beetle on his leg. Johnny, on the other hand, was trying to save face but failing miserably as a tear rolled down his cheek.

Y/N couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle at the sight of the two grown men, both reduced to blubbering wrecks over a harmless beetle.

“Well, well,” Y/N said, her voice firm, though she tried to hide her amusement. “I’ve seen tough soldiers face down enemies, endure harsh conditions, and survive bloody battles, but a tiny beetle on your leg? That’s what breaks you?” She shook her head, her eyes narrowing playfully. “And here I thought you two were men of honor.”

She crossed her arms and gave them a mock disapproving look. “Now, I’m not one to condone bullying, but that was downright cruel. Do you have any idea how it feels to be ridiculed by a couple of grown men, just because I’ve got a harmless little tenant?” She motioned to the beetle with a dramatic flourish. “You should be ashamed, both of you. Apologize to her.”

Johnny and Roach exchanged confused glances, unsure if she was serious or not.

"Bloody hell," Johnny mumbled, still shaken but now confused.

Roach hesitated, then awkwardly muttered, “Sorry… to the beetle?”

Johnny sniffed, still visibly shaken. "You’re bloody insane, lass. That thing’s not natural.”

Roach nodded, still pale. “I’m going to have nightmares about that thing crawlin’ on me forever.”

Y/N sighed dramatically, pretending to consider their plight for a moment. “Aye, well, that’s a shame. But if ye’ll behave, I’ll let ye off the hook... for now.” She glanced at the clock on the wall, her eyes widening in realization. "Speaking of hooks... it’s lunch time. I’ve got a few things to prepare for my little friend here," she gestured to the beetle with a nod.

Johnny and Roach blinked in confusion, their hunger starting to make itself known. “Lunch?” Johnny asked, his stomach growling loudly in protest.

"Aye," Y/N said, "For the beetle, obviously. She’ll need her greens." She gave the beetle a wink. “And for you two as well," she added, her voice softening just enough to let them know she wasn’t entirely without mercy. "Even captives need to eat."

Roach shot Johnny a look, his face a picture of disbelief. “She’s actually cookin’ for the beetle?”

Johnny shrugged, his stomach growling again. “I’m just really hoping there’s somethin’ in it for us too, yeah?”

Y/N smiled sweetly, a touch of mock sincerity in her voice. "Of course, lads. I’ll whip up somethin' nice for ye too. Can’t have my lovely guests starvin', can I?"

With that, she turned and headed for the door. “I’ll be back soon,” she called over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, the beetle’s a sociable creature, she’ll keep ye company.”

Johnny and Roach looked at each other, their stomachs growling in unison as they both realized just how hungry they were. “Do you think she’s actually going to feed us?” Roach asked, his voice laced with desperation.

“I dunno,” Johnny muttered, rubbing his stomach. “But I bloody hope so.”

As the door clicked shut behind her, the two men slumped in their chairs, the silence of the room only interrupted by the occasional sound of the beetle skittering around in its terrarium. The tension had eased, but their rumbling stomachs reminded them that their fate still rested in Y/N’s hands—along with their new roommate’s.

----------

Lunchbreak

When Y/N finally returned with their lunch, Johnny and Roach eyed their plates warily. The smell was pleasant enough—hearty stew with fresh bread—but their eyes flicked back to the beetle's terrarium, as if expecting some hidden, sinister ingredient.

Y/N set the plates down in front of them with a casual smile. “Eat up, lads. No beetles in the stew, I promise.”

Johnny frowned, eyeing the food like it might jump out and bite him. “Right. No beetles, but... what else is in here?”

Roach followed his gaze, clearly trying to find some hidden clue in the stew. “Aye, somethin’ smells off, don’t it?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Are you both really that paranoid? I’m not playin’ with your food.” She scolded them with a raised finger. “I don’t mess around with meals. If I wanted to torture you, I’d make you eat your words instead.”

Johnny and Roach exchanged uneasy glances, clearly unconvinced but too hungry to argue. Y/N stood over them, hands on her hips, watching as they hesitantly began to pick at their food.

She wasn’t about to let them off the hook so easily. With a sharp, “Aye, enough of this,” she knelt down and began untying their feet from the chair before moving to loosen the knot on their hands.

“Oi,” Roach said cautiously, shifting in his seat. “What’re ye doing now?”

Y/N shot him a stern look, her patience wearing thin. “Behave,” she warned, her tone sharp. “I’ve been kind enough to loosen the knot on your hands, but let me make one thing clear—if either of you tries anything, I’ll tie you up so tight you’ll never get out. And trust me, it won’t be pretty.”

Johnny swallowed nervously, his mouth still tingling from the spices in the food. “We’re just... just eatin’. No funny business, promise.”

With practiced efficiency, Y/N retied the rope around their feet in a more complicated knot, one that allowed just enough movement for them to sit comfortably but would take forever to undo. Then she tied their hands behind their backs in an intricate knot, loosening it just enough so they could maneuver their forks but not enough to free themselves.

She stood back, smirking at her handiwork. “There. Now you can eat properly, but don’t even think about trying to escape. If you do, I’ll make sure it’s the last time you think you can get one over on me.”

Johnny and Roach exchanged uneasy glances before turning their attention to their plates, shifting uncomfortably in their chairs. Though reluctant at first, hunger eventually won out. They dug into the food cautiously, glancing at her every so often, as if expecting some hidden trick.

Y/N, arms crossed, watched them with mild amusement. “That’s better,” she muttered.

Y/N dusted off her hands and headed for the door, muttering as she left, “Need to get that broth right... been boiling for an hour already. Can’t let it overdo itself now, can we?” She paused at the doorway, turning back to Johnny and Roach with a pointed look. “Behave. I’ll be right back. If I hear even a peep out of either of you, you’ll regret it.”

With that, she disappeared down the hallway, her faint muttering about the seafood boil trailing after her. “Onions, garlic, bay leaves... aye, needs a bit more kick. Maybe some lemon...”

Johnny and Roach stayed quiet for a moment, their gazes flicking toward the doorway to make sure she was truly gone. Finally, after a few more cautious bites of the meal in front of him, Roach glanced at Johnny and broke the silence.

“I mean... it’s actually not bad. This is... pretty good, actually,” he admitted, though his voice was low as if he feared she might still overhear.

Johnny, mid-chew, gave a reluctant nod. “Aye... not bad at all,” he mumbled, though his pride made him hesitate to sound too impressed. He swallowed and leaned back slightly, his gaze thoughtful. “I can see why the Lt. eats like a bloody king. Lucky bastard.”

Roach snorted softly, shaking his head. “No wonder he’s so smug all the time. Homemade food like this on deployment? Meanwhile, we’re stuck choking down MREs that taste like cardboard.”

Johnny smirked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s this? Jealous, are ye? Wantin’ a lady to whip up gourmet meals for ye?”

Roach shrugged with a lopsided grin. “Can you blame me? Food like this... I wouldn’t say no.”

Johnny chuckled and leaned in slightly, his grin turning mischievous. “Aye, careful what you wish for, mate. You sure you’d want a woman like her? She’s got our Lt. whipped, guaranteed.”

Roach blinked, his grin faltering as he considered that. “Whipped? You serious?”

Before Johnny could respond, a shadow fell over the doorway. They both froze mid-bite as Y/N reappeared, her expression unreadable and her hands occupied with a bright red crawfish, dangling by its tail.

“Whose whipped?” she asked, her tone deceptively sweet as her sharp eyes flicked between the two of them.

Johnny and Roach immediately stiffened, their forks hovering mid-air. They exchanged a panicked glance, but neither dared to speak.

Y/N cocked an eyebrow and let the crawfish dangle ominously close to Johnny’s face. “Well? Cat got your tongue?”

Johnny gulped audibly. “Er... no one’s whipped. N-not a soul. Isn’t that right, Roach?”

“Uh, aye!” Roach blurted, nodding far too enthusiastically. “Not a word about anyone being whipped. Just... uh... appreciating your... culinary expertise.”

Y/N hummed in mock agreement, lowering the crawfish. “Good. Because if the idea of being ‘whipped’ scares you so much, maybe it’s time you learned how to cook for yourselves.” She shot them a pointed look before walking over to a nearby drawer, opening it with a sharp clink.

The sound of her pulling out a large Serbian chef knife drew their eyes immediately. The blade was thick, gleaming under the light with a menacing edge that seemed sharp enough to cleave through anything in its path.

She inspected the blade casually, her back turned to them, as if she hadn’t just sent a shiver down their spines. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, her voice light but her movements deliberate, “I’ve got some prep work to finish.”

Johnny and Roach sat frozen, exchanging wide-eyed glances as she walked out, the knife in one hand and the crawfish in the other. The door swung shut behind her, leaving them in tense silence.

After a long pause, Johnny let out a slow breath, leaning back in his chair. “We’re still alive, aye?” he muttered, as if needing confirmation.

Roach nodded hesitantly, swallowing hard. “Aye... but I think I’d rather face the Lt. in a mood than her in the kitchen.”

Johnny chuckled weakly, glancing toward the doorway. “Same here, mate. Same here.”

----------

Next on the menu?

Y/N returned, this time wearing gloves smeared with faint traces of whatever she’d been chopping. Her steps were calm and unhurried, but there was something unnerving about the way her gloved fingers curled around the edge of the plates. Without a word, she collected their dishes, her movements efficient and eerily precise. A stray crawfish claw dangled from the edge of one plate, the hard shell glinting like some sort of ominous trophy.

Johnny and Roach stared at it, swallowing hard.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” she said casually, her tone at odds with the unsettling imagery. She turned on her heel, heading for the door. “The stock needs attention. It won’t cook itself.”

The door creaked shut behind her, leaving the two men in an uneasy silence once more.

Roach broke the quiet first, his voice hushed but edged with genuine concern. “Why does it feel like she’s cooking us next?”

Johnny shifted uncomfortably in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck. “Mate, don’t even joke about that.” He gestured toward the doorway with a flick of his head. “You saw how she handled that crawfish. Do you really want to find out what she could do to us? Just... don’t mention anything that’ll get her attention. Please. I like bein’ out of the pot, aye?”

Roach nodded quickly, his eyes darting to the doorway, half-expecting her to reappear. “Right. Good point.”

They both sat stiffly in their chairs, trying not to make a sound, hearts pounding with the irrational but persistent thought that they were dangerously close to becoming part of the menu. The lingering smell of the food reminded them just how grateful they were that it hadn’t been them in the pot—or at least, not yet. Hopefully, never!

----------

Captain Price to the Rescue?

After lunch, Y/N strode back into the ‘interrogation’ room, her movements calm but purposeful, and sat down across from Johnny and Roach, resuming where she’d left off.

Her voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Why the hell were you even following me?”

Johnny and Roach exchanged nervous glances, their faces pale. They couldn’t admit the truth—not that they were their Lt.’s men, her partner’s men, and had just been nosy and curious. It was too embarrassing. So, they said nothing.

Y/N narrowed her eyes, clearly unimpressed by their silence. Before she could press them again, there was a sudden, deafening crash.

The front door of the cottage exploded inward, splinters flying in every direction.

Y/N’s eyes snapped to the sound, just in time to hear an enraged bellow.

“JOHNNY! ROACH! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

Johnny and Roach jerked in their seats like startled rabbits.

“Oh, bloody hell!” Johnny screeched, his eyes wide with panic. “IT’S HIM!”

Roach was no better, his voice climbing an octave. “HELP! CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN PRICE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, HELP!”

Y/N leaned back in her chair, smirking. “Oh, look at that. Your boss actually came looking for you. I’m touched.”

From the front of the house, Price’s voice boomed again, shaking the walls. “Where are you two? I’ll bloody find you!”

The sound of heavy boots hitting the floorboards echoed ominously as Price stormed through the house.

Johnny and Roach, already panicked, began shouting in unison.

“CAPTAIN, HELP! IT’S A TRAP! BE CAREFUL! SHE’S LOST IT!”

Price’s voice rumbled closer. “What the bloody hell are you two on about?!”

Roach whimpered. “She’s gonna cook us next!”

Johnny, still screaming, added, “WE’RE TIED UP LIKE BLOODY PUDDINGS!”

Price’s footsteps grew louder, and his grumbling was now accompanied by muttered curses. “Bloody pudding? What’s wrong with you two? Can hear you from the front door!”

Finally, Price kicked open the door to the room, his sharp blue eyes taking in the bizarre sight before him: Johnny and Roach tied to chairs, squirming like worms, and Y/N sitting in the corner, arms crossed, an infuriating smirk plastered on her face.

Price blinked, his voice flat with disbelief. “What in the actual hell is this?” He gestured vaguely at the scene. “You two... let her do this to you?”

Before they could explain, Johnny and Roach screamed again.

“DON’T COME ANY CLOSER! SHE’S GOT SPRAY!”

Price frowned, confused. “Spray?”

“THE SAME BLOODY SPRAY SHE USED TO KNOCK US OUT!” Roach added, his voice cracking.

Price paused, staring at Y/N, who raised an eyebrow and leaned forward slightly, clearly enjoying herself.

Price crossed his arms. “You two seriously think I’m gonna fall for that?”

Y/N’s smirk widened. “Oh, I figured you wouldn’t. That’s why I’ve got something better.”

She reached behind her chair, her movements swift and deliberate, and grabbed a rifle dart gun. Before Price could react, she fired.

The dart hit his knee with a thunk.

“Bloody—” Price growled, yanking the dart out and glaring at her.

She fired again, this time hitting his neck.

“OH, BLOODY HELL!” Johnny and Roach screamed in unison, wriggling in their chairs as if they could escape whatever fate awaited their captain.

Price ripped the second dart out, snarling. “Woman, what the hell are you—”

He stopped mid-sentence, swaying unsteadily. The room tilted, his balance suddenly off. Gritting his teeth, Price dropped to one knee, staring up at her with fire in his eyes.

“What did you do to me, woman?!” he growled, his voice thick with anger and something else—drowsiness.

Y/N walked toward him slowly, the dart gun still in her hand, her expression eerily calm. “Oh, don’t worry, Captain,” she said, her voice light and almost cheerful. “It’s just a tranquilizer. I use it on wild boars.”

Her smile turned sinister as Price’s vision blurred. That was the last thing he saw before the darkness swallowed him whole.

----------

A New Hostage!

Y/N grunted as she dragged Captain Price’s unconscious form across the room, muttering to herself. “Bloody hell, you’re heavy! What do they feed you soldiers? Bricks?!” She propped him up on a chair with a huff, shaking her head. “This is ridiculous. I should be done prepping food by now!”

Johnny and Roach sat stiffly in their chairs, wide-eyed and helpless as they watched her wrestle the Captain’s limp form like a sack of potatoes.

Roach leaned toward Johnny and whispered, his voice trembling, “Who the hell is this woman?”

Johnny didn’t take his eyes off her. “I don’t know, mate, but she’s mental. Proper mental.”

Roach gulped. “How did we end up here? She’s got Price, for goodness’s sake. Price!”

Johnny shook his head slowly. “Simon’s birdie, huh? I thought she’d be a sweet lass. You know, one of those quiet types. Maybe she bakes.”

Roach’s eyes darted nervously to the dart gun still slung over her shoulder. “Bakes?! Johnny, she tranquilized the Captain. With wild boar darts! Bakes?! Are you daft?”

Johnny shrugged, his voice quiet. “I don’t know what I thought. But it sure as hell wasn’t this.”

They both fell silent as Y/N crouched in front of Price, adjusting the ropes with practiced ease. She tied a firm knot, tugged on it to test its strength, and then stood back to admire her work.

“Alright,” she said cheerfully, dusting off her hands. “That’ll hold him until he wakes up.” She turned to Johnny and Roach, her tone casual, as if she hadn’t just restrained their Captain like a Christmas ham. “I need to get back to my food prep. I’ll check on you lot later.”

Johnny’s panic finally broke through. “What the hell did you do to our Captain?!”

Y/N waved a dismissive hand, already halfway to the door. “Oh, nothing. He’s fine! He’ll be awake in an hour. Or so. Probably.”

“Probably?!” Roach squeaked, his voice rising in pitch.

Y/N turned to them with an exasperated sigh. “I said he’s fine. It’s just a tranquilizer, not poison. Relax, will you?”

With that, she exited the room, leaving the two soldiers to stew in their rising panic.

Johnny leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Mate,” he said, his voice hollow. “We’ve messed with the wrong woman.”

Roach nodded slowly, his eyes still fixed on the door she’d just walked through. “Yeah. And now we’re in her house. Tied to chairs. Watching her hold the Captain hostage. What the hell do we do now?”

Johnny let out a shaky breath. “Pray, mate. Just pray.”

---------- The Morrigan

Captain Price groaned, blinking groggily as he came to his senses. His head throbbed, and his arms were firmly tied to the chair, rendering him utterly immobile. The familiar smell of seafood chowder and garlic bread wafted through the room, and his stomach gave a loud, rumbling protest.

Johnny and Roach were sitting across from him, completely unfazed, digging into their bowls with gusto as though they weren’t in the middle of being held hostage.

Price scowled at them. “How the hell are you two still eating like that? All three of us are bloody hostages, and you’re sitting there like it’s a bloody picnic!”

Johnny, not missing a beat, took another bite of his chowder. “She gets offended if we don’t eat, Cap.”

Roach nodded, chewing thoughtfully. “Yeah, mate. She insists on it. Said it’s bad manners not to finish what’s on your plate.”

Price stared at them in disbelief, then rolled his eyes. “You two are unbelievable. Getting bribed with food. Bloody greedy gluttons.”

Johnny shot him a look, eyebrows raised. “Oh, come on, Cap. You’re the same! Remember when you demanded a fruit from the fruit baskets that Ghost and Gaz brought home after that last deployment? Oh, and the chocolate. Don’t forget the chocolate.”

Price’s face reddened, and he opened his mouth to retort, but before he could get a word out, the door swung open. Y/N walked in, holding a steaming bowl of seafood chowder and a freshly baked garlic bread loaf in one hand, her smile as unsettling as ever.

“Dinner time, Captain,” she chirped, her smile practically stretching ear to ear. “Hope you’re hungry!”

She put the bowl down next to Johnny and Roach and then stopped in front of Price. She stared at him for an uncomfortably long moment, her eyes gleaming with something not quite right.

Price, feeling the heat of her gaze, grunted. “What?”

“Well,” she began slowly, “I don’t trust you, Captain. I’m not sure I should let you eat.”

Price’s jaw dropped. “Oi! Woman! Why do Johnny and Roach get to eat then?”

Y/N shrugged, her creepy smile not faltering. “Well, I’m afraid the moment I loosen your binds, you’ll try to fight me. And, I’m just a small, poor, ‘harmless’ woman. I can’t risk that.”

At the word “harmless,” Price, Johnny, and Roach all rolled their eyes in unison. Price opened his mouth to protest.

“Harmless? After what you did? You call yourself that?!” Price barked, incredulous.

Y/N chuckled darkly. She reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a syringe with a sinister smile plastered on her face. “Well, Captain, since I don’t trust you, I thought about cutting the veins in your ankles to stop you from walking. But I don’t like making a mess, so I figured I’d just inject you with this. Numbs your legs for a couple of hours. Maybe.”

At the sight of the syringe, Johnny and Roach went pale, their eyes darting nervously between Y/N and each other.

Before anyone could say another word, the front door swung open, and Simon's deep, raspy voice called out from the living room. “Birdie!! I got the salmon you wanted! And the veggies!!”

Simon entered the kitchen, slipping off his boots and replacing them with his indoor slippers. He carried a wrapped salmon and vegetables, exactly as Y/N had instructed.

“Oh!! And I ran into Kyle!! Since you're making seafood boil, I figured the whole pot is a lot, so I invited him to join!” Simon added casually, with Kyle nervously trailing behind, holding a case of beer.

“Birdie? Where are you, love?” Simon called out, clearly not expecting the scene unfolding before him.

“GHOST!!! HELP!!!! SHE'S MENTAL!!! MENTAL, I TELL YOU!!!” Roach screamed, his voice pitched higher than usual.

Johnny joined in, his voice almost breaking. “LT!!! HEEELLLPPP!!!”

Simon’s brows furrowed at the chaos, and he looked at Kyle, who was now standing awkwardly by the door, trying to understand what was happening. Simon sighed deeply.

Kyle, for his part, was unsure whether to be concerned or amused. He took a step into the kitchen, then another, eyeing the situation with mounting confusion. “Uh... I brought beer?” he offered weakly, looking between the trio of tied-up soldiers and Simon, who seemed less concerned than he should be.

Simon looked at the scene for a few beats, then glanced at Y/N. “Birdie? What the hell is going on here?”

Y/N just smiled, her hands on her hips. “Oh, you know, just a little dinner prep. They were helping me out. Tied up, of course.”

“Helping?!” Johnny gasped, his face turning pale. “You’ve lost it, woman!”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Y/N said sweetly, “You’re just getting a bit of ��quiet time.’”

Simon’s eyes darted between his tied-up squad and his ‘birdie,’ clearly confused by the bizarre situation. After a few moments of stunned silence, he rubbed his temples. “Right. What exactly is going on here?”

Johnny, Roach, and Price all looked at each other, then in unison, shouted, “She’s mental!”

Simon grinned widely, his eyes glinting with a mischievous spark. “Well, that’s one of her attractive traits, mate!” he said, pointing a thumb at Y/N.

The three tied-up soldiers groaned in unison, rolling their eyes. Price, trying to avoid a full-blown headache, muttered under his breath, “Simon, you’re in too deep, mate.”

Simon chuckled heartily, unaffected by the collective groans of his squad. “Nah, mate. You just wait until you get to know her better. She’s bloody great fun!” He turned back to Y/N, clearly ready for an explanation. “But seriously, birdie, what happened here?”

Y/N flashed a sweet smile, completely unfazed by the chaos. “Well,” she began, clearly enjoying herself, “it all started when Johnny and Roach followed me around the market, sneaking around like suspicious men. I thought they were enemies trying to spy on me, they followed me into my vehicle!! I was going to interrogate them about who sent them and what they were after.”

She pointed at Price, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “And then, I caught their boss. The big guy. This Captain Price!”

Simon blinked, his face turning a little confused. “Wait, what? You think my squad was spying on you?”

Y/N nodded, her expression serious. “I had to make sure they weren’t after me. You can never be too careful, right?”

Johnny, Roach, and Price all exchanged weary looks. Johnny shrugged. “She’s got a point. We did follow her into the car...”

Roach groaned. “Yeah, we were just out looking for a pint and lunch, and then we saw Simon’s birdie. Next thing we know, we’re being accused of being bloody spies!" He sighed dramatically. "Alright, fine, we were being nosy!!” he admits begrudgingly

Simon raised an eyebrow, gesturing toward the tied-up trio. “Right, so these are my teammates. Johnny and Roach, they’re just nosy as hell, always sticking their noses where they shouldn’t be. And Captain Price here? Well, he just got caught up in all this mess. He’s innocent.”

Y/N wasn’t having it. She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you sure about that? They could be spies or double agents! You never know.”

Simon snorted. “Spies? Double agents? Goodness, birdie, they’re just bloody nosy!”

Y/N pouted, pointing her finger at Price. “But he’s the boss! He could be involved in something shady! You never know, Simon. Just look at what happened with your previous team before.” She lowered her voice dramatically, adding, “You can’t be too careful.”

Kyle, who had been standing in the doorway this whole time, chimed in with a grin. “Captain Price is a good man. As for Johnny and Roach, they’re... well, they’re okay. Just a bit nosy, that’s all.”

Y/N blinked, her face going from suspicion to shock as she processed what Kyle had said. She slowly turned to Johnny and Roach, her eyes widening with realization. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I had no idea!”

Johnny and Roach stared back, their faces as deadpan as ever. “You’re sorry now?” Roach muttered dryly.

Johnny crossed his arms. “Well, thanks for the hospitality.”

Y/N, now flustered and horrified by her own actions, started to apologize profusely. “I didn’t mean to—oh gosh, I’m so sorry! I’m not usually like this! I swear! I thought you were bad guys!”

Price, still tied up, finally cracked a grin. “Well, now you know, love. We’re just a bunch of idiots who can’t even follow a simple market trip.”

Y/N started babbling, her face turning a deep shade of red. “I promise, I’m not like this! I just... I wanted to protect myself! I didn’t want to end up like—” She froze, catching herself awkwardly.

“Like what?” Simon asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like... like... them...” she trailed off, her eyes shifting nervously. The awkwardness hung in the air like a fog, and the tension was palpable. Y/N let out a small, frustrated sigh before continuing, her voice a little quieter. “And... I wanted to protect you, Simon. I thought... after interrogating them, I’d eliminate them, and then... their boss.” She gave an awkward, forced laugh, trying to shake off the gravity of her words.

Captain Price, still tied up and listening intently, interrupted with a deadpan expression. “Oi, I’m just right here, woman!”

Everyone paused, staring at him. Y/N blinked, her face turning an even deeper shade of red as she fumbled for words.

“I—uh, I didn’t mean you, Captain! You’re... you're fine!” she stammered, trying to backtrack.

Simon sighed, his expression softening slightly. Captain Price and Kyle exchanged looks, both of them quickly catching on to what Y/N was implying.

The squad, in unison, all said, “Ohhhh...” in realization.

Y/N’s face flushed with embarrassment as she quickly tried to change the subject. “Anyway, I’m sure we’ve had enough of my crazy ideas for one day!” she said, her hands flailing around in panic.

Captain Price, still tied to the chair, growled from his seat. “Oi, what about me, then? Johnny and Roach get food, but I’m stuck here like some bloody hostage? Where’s my dinner?” Price just sighs and muttered, “Bloody hell, I’m was about to get murdered by a mental woman and I haven’t even had dinner yet...”

Y/N facepalmed, her apology now morphing into full-blown panic. “I swear, this never happens to me! I’m usually really good at this... well, not this, but you know—being careful and suspicious!” She started to untie Price, clearly flustered.

Captain Price was not having it, though. “And I want that syringe you were planning on stabbing me with, and your bloody hunting rifle!” he demanded, his voice loud with mock indignation.

Y/N, clearly rattled, nervously dug around in her apron pocket and handed over the syringe, though she nearly jabbed him with it in the process. “It’s just... a little something to numb your legs, I swear it’s safe!” she said quickly, voice wavering.

Price's eyes widened, and he flinched as the syringe came dangerously close to his face. “Bloody hell, that thing almost stabbed me! And give me the rifle!”

Y/N froze, looking incredibly guilty. “I... I can’t give you the rifle,” she said, voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s, uh... property of my workplace.”

Captain Price narrowed his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You, a small, "harmless woman", did all this? With that rifle and... and this?” He gestured to the entire situation, still trying to process how he ended up tied up in a chair with a syringe so close to his throat.

Y/N blinked, tears welling up in her eyes as her guilty face contorted into an apologetic expression. “I’m so sorry!” She sniffled, throwing herself into Simon’s arms, clearly distressed. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far, I swear!”

Simon, unbothered as always, playfully scolded Price. “Oi, Captain! You’re being harsh on my birdie,” he said, ruffling Y/N’s hair affectionately, who clung to him like a lifeline.

Kyle, who’d been quietly observing the whole mess, smiled and sighed. “Captain Price, be nice.”

“What?! I have the right to know what kind of mental person I’m dealing with here!” Price fired back, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Well, the only thing I can tell you, Captain, is that she was my previous Case Officer,” Kyle said, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “And I think you’ve heard of the The Morrigan of MI5, right?”

Price’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, I’ve heard of them. All I know is that they retired. No longer in active duty.”

Kyle gave a short nod in Y/N's direction. “Well, Captain, meet 'The Morrigan'.”

Captain Price’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped in complete realization. “No bloody way.”

Y/N gave him an awkward, apologetic look, her face turning crimson. “Uhhmmm… hello…” she offered with a nervous little wave.

Price just sat there, utterly dumbfounded, blinking as he processed the bombshell revelation. The room went silent for a beat—until Simon burst into laughter.

“See? Told you my birdie’s got a bit of bite!” Simon teased, squeezing Y/N’s shoulder with a proud grin, while she covered her face with her hands, groaning in embarrassment.

Kyle looked at Price, his grin barely hidden. “Guess you didn’t expect that, did you, Cap?”

Price leaned back in the chair, running a hand through his hair, horrified. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, staring at Y/N like she was a wild animal that had somehow escaped its cage. “I’ve had a run-in with The Morrigan of MI5... and I was about to get murdered by her if you two hadn’t shown up on time.” He paused, shaking his head. “Fuuuucckkk.”

Johnny and Roach, standing to the side and clearly confused, looked at each other before turning to Price.

“What happened now, Captain?” Johnny asked.

Price glanced at them, his face pale. “You ate the meal she made, didn’t you?” His voice was dripping with dread. “I think I need to send you both to the hospital.”

Johnny frowned, confused. “Hospital? Why?”

“Oh no, Captain,” Roach chimed in. “She doesn’t mess with food.”

“Aye, she’s been feeding us since lunch!” Johnny added. “We’re still alive, nothing’s happened to us!"

Y/N threw her hands up, clearly exasperated. “Exactly! I don’t mess with food! If I wanted to harm you, I’d have done it directly—like I said, I’d inject you with syringes or something.”

Price groaned, rubbing his temples. “Lads, you don’t get it. This is The Morrigan of MI5. Right in front of you. She’s a bloody poisoner!” His voice rose slightly with every word, his face showing equal parts horror and disbelief.

Johnny and Roach froze, their eyes darting toward Y/N.

“Ohhh...” they said in unison, realization dawning on their faces as everything clicked into place—the spray, the syringe, the fact they’d both been knocked out cold earlier.

“Yeah,” Roach muttered, his face pale. “Makes sense now. She did knock us out with that spray.”

Johnny nodded slowly. “Aye, and the syringe...” He shuddered slightly, giving Y/N a wary glance.

Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. “For the last time, I don’t mess with food!”

Simon, thoroughly amused, chuckled as he leaned back against the counter. “Don’t worry, lads. If my birdie wanted to kill you, you’d already be six feet under. Trust me, she doesn’t miss.”

“Not helping, Simon!” Y/N snapped, glaring at him as Johnny and Roach edged slightly farther away from her, their paranoia clearly growing.

Price slumped in his chair, muttering under his breath. “I just wanted dinner, not a bloody heart attack...”

----------

A Hearty Meal

To Kyle’s absolute amusement, dinner was in full swing. Simon and Y/N worked in tandem, pouring the contents of the enormous seafood boil pot directly onto the middle of the table. The colorful mountain of food spilled out like a culinary treasure chest: large, bright red crawfish, plump prawns, glistening salmon chunks, tender clams, juicy slices of chopped sausage, perfectly cooked potatoes, and sweet, caramelized carrots—all steaming and coated in a fragrant garlic butter sauce that filled the air.

“Bloody hell,” Johnny muttered, his eyes wide as he ogled the spread like it was some rare artifact. “That’s a feast fit for a King... or a hungry Scotsman.”

Price, seated at the head of the table like some weary monarch after battle, raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “More like a last meal, knowing what I just found out,” he grumbled, casting a wary glance at Y/N.

“Oi!” Y/N snapped, brandishing the garlic butter brush like a weapon. “For the last time, I don’t mess with food! You lot are exhausting!”

“Sure, lass,” Johnny chimed in with a mischievous grin. “But just in case, I’ll have Roach take the first bite.” He shoved a spoon into Roach’s hand, earning an indignant glare from his teammate.

“Oh, for goodness sake,” Kyle muttered, rolling his eyes. He leaned forward, grabbed a crawfish, and expertly cracked it open, popping the meat into his mouth. “See? Perfectly fine. Bloody delicious, actually.”

Johnny and Roach exchanged a look, then immediately started piling their plates with prawns, crawfish, and sausage, following Kyle’s lead.

Meanwhile, Captain Price sat frozen, still staring at Y/N in disbelief.

“You all right there, Cap?” Kyle asked, grinning as he grabbed a prawn. “You’re looking a bit peaky.”

Price blinked, snapping out of his daze. “Just... processing, that’s all,” he muttered.

Kyle laughed, shaking his head. “You’ve got nothing to process, sir. You’re overthinking it. You know, this reminds me of my station in the Middle East. Remember that big leak at MI5 and MI6? The one that almost cost us a dozen agents and operatives?”

Price frowned, his fork hovering midair. “Yeah, I remember. That was chaos. Took weeks to get everything back under control.”

Kyle nodded, cracking another crawfish shell with practiced ease. “Well, she’s the reason it didn’t get worse. The Morrigan of MI5? She personally coordinated the operation that saved everyone—and even prevented it from leaking to the media. Could’ve been an international disaster if she hadn’t stepped in.” He popped a piece of sausage into his mouth and gestured toward Y/N.

Price’s eyes widened, his fork frozen mid-air. “I still can’t believe it,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “This unassuming woman—you—is The Morrigan. And MacMillan trusted you enough to follow your lead? My mentor, the man who doesn’t trust anyone?”

Y/N arched an eyebrow at him, narrowing her eyes as she spread butter on the next batch of garlic bread. “Sorry I don’t look like James Bond material, Captain,” she said dryly, sliding the tray into the oven. “But we all know operations aren’t glamorous like those bloody James Bond films. No fancy tuxedos, no martinis shaken or stirred—just sweat, dirt, and a lot of paperwork afterward.”

Simon let out a low chuckle, leaning back in his chair. “She’s got a point, Cap. Can’t exactly look dashing in a firefight, can you?”

Price sighed, rubbing his temple as the corner of his mouth twitched. “Still doesn’t change the fact that MacMillan trusted her. I just... can’t wrap my head around it. I mean, look at her—she’s so unassuming. Petite, even. And then there’s us lot—giants by comparison.” He gestured vaguely at himself, Simon, and the rest of the team.

Y/N snorted, setting a pitcher of iced tea on the counter with a cheeky grin. “Aye, I might be small, Captain, but let’s not forget—you, Johnny, and Roach still ended up as my hostages.”

Simon and Kyle burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the room. Kyle nearly choked on his drink, and Simon grinned, ruffling Y/N’s hair fondly. “That’s my birdie,” he said with a chuckle.

Y/N shot a playful look at Captain Price. “Captain, instead of still trying to figure out who I am, why don’t you just eat? You were complaining to me earlier about why I didn’t feed you, but only fed Johnny and Roach.”

Price huffed, clearly still trying to process everything. “Just having trouble wrapping my head around the fact that the woman who nearly gave me a heart attack earlier is the same one MacMillan trusted with his operations.” He sighed dramatically. “Fine, I’ll eat! I’ll just eat,” he muttered, digging into the seafood boil with surprising enthusiasm, the flavors catching him off guard. Before long, he was enjoying it more than he thought he would.

“Cap,” Johnny said through a mouthful of crawfish, “if she wanted us dead, she wouldn’t bother with poison. She’d just snap her fingers and make it happen. Or, y’know, spray us again.”

Roach laughed, reaching for another piece of bread. “Aye, and this garlic bread’s worth trusting her, if you ask me.”

Kyle grinned as he cracked another crawfish shell. “And Cap, if she really wanted to get rid of us, Simon’d be out cold already—he’s been sneaking bites of her cooking since we sat down.”

Simon smiled, clearly unbothered as he continued eating with satisfaction.

Price groaned, leaning his head back against the chair. “Bloody hell. I need a drink.”

----------

The Takeaways

Y/N felt a pang of guilt as she packed takeaway boxes, filling them with the leftovers: seafood chowder, shortbread she’d baked earlier, slices of pie, and more of the seafood boil. She tucked in an extra serving for Kyle as well, her own small way of making up for the earlier mess. Once everything was packed and the food was neatly stacked into bags, she carried them outside, walking with the group to the vehicle.

Captain Price, Johnny, and Roach were ready to leave, their heads still spinning from the earlier revelations. Price had driven himself here, and now, as he climbed into the driver’s seat of his truck, Y/N felt a sudden rush of guilt again. She paused, a strange look crossing her face, before she moved towards him.

With a gentle but firm hand, she pulled Captain Price out of the driver’s seat, despite her small frame. He shot her a puzzled glance, but before he could say anything, she reached up to the dashboard and yanked the liquid air freshener attached to the aircon.

“Sorry, Captain,” she said sheepishly, “it’s actually poison. I placed this earlier when I thought you were still my enemy. After I planned to let you go, this would’ve done its job.”

Johnny and Roach froze, their eyes wide, sweat trickling down their foreheads as they suddenly realized what had almost happened. Captain Price’s mouth hung agape, his face frozen in a mixture of shock and fear.

Kyle let out a hearty laugh. “Do you still doubt that she’s The Morrigan, Captain?!”

Simon burst into uncontrollable laughter, unable to stop himself, clutching his stomach in amusement.

Price sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead. “Unbelievable…” His voice was a mix of disbelief and exhaustion, still processing the fact that this small, unassuming woman—who had just made them all dinner—was none other than The Morrigan. A woman feared and respected across MI5, MI6, and Special Ops—the entire intelligence and special operations community. He could hardly wrap his head around it, his mind still struggling to connect the dots. There was little known about her beyond her callsign, and most of what was, had been redacted. All he knew was that she was a ghost, a shadow in the field, and now, she was standing right in front of him.

Y/N, a little embarrassed by the whole situation, scratched the back of her neck. “Don’t worry, Captain! The food I packed for you isn’t poisoned! I hope you enjoy it!!”

Simon continued laughing in the background, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all.

As Price shook his head in disbelief, his 4x4 rumbled to life, and Gaz, Johnny and Roach climbed inside, still processing everything. The vehicle pulled out of Simon’s cottage compound, disappearing down the road.

----------

His Goddess

As Captain Price drove them back to the base, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, Kyle couldn't help but notice the still-shocked expression on the Captain's face. The earlier revelation had clearly rattled him.

"Alright, Cap?" Kyle said, glancing over with a smirk.

Captain Price navigated the winding road back to the base, Kyle couldn’t help but notice that the Captain was still in a state of shock. Price’s mind clearly hadn’t settled on everything that had just happened. After a few moments of silence, the Captain spoke, his voice still tinged with disbelief.

“Alright, Kyle… how did you know who 'The Morrigan' was? Her face, for Christ’s sake. That was blacked out—redacted from every file.”

Kyle leaned back in his seat, taking a deep breath as he glanced out the window, the dimming light casting shadows across his face. “It was when she came to rescue us. We were in a tight spot, surrounded. The cover story she came up with? One of the most ridiculous plans I’d ever heard, but effective as hell. It worked, especially given the circumstances. She radioed in to confirm the extraction, and that’s when she said her name—'This is The Morrigan.' That’s when it all clicked.” He paused, reflecting. “She’s known for planning ops like nobody else—strategic, methodical. A real grandmaster at it.” Kyle gave a small smirk. “Not many know her face.”

Price nodded, absorbing the information. He gripped the wheel a little tighter, still processing. “I see,” he muttered, his eyes on the road. “I just didn’t expect her to look like that. Petite... like she couldn’t harm a fly.” His voice was almost incredulous.

Johnny, from the backseat, couldn’t resist. “Well, Captain, guess we’ve learned today that size and looks don’t mean a damn thing when it comes to being dangerous.”

Roach snickered, adding, “Aye, she might be small, but she’s got a bite that’ll make you wish you were never born.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Don’t you think they’re a good match?”

Price chuckled, his eyes glinting with a knowing look. “Aye, I can see it now. Quite fitting, actually. I get why Simon loves her. It makes sense.”

Kyle’s grin deepened, his voice taking on a more thoughtful, almost poetic quality.

“Yeah, if Ghost is the Grim Reaper, then she’s The Morrigan—his Goddess.”

Price glanced at him, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “Hell, you’re not wrong. They make one hell of a pair.”

Johnny leaned forward from the backseat, nodding in agreement. “Aye, Death and His Goddess, now that’s a match made in... well, whatever’s beyond.”

Roach chuckled, adding his own twist. “Couldn’t put it better. The Goddess of Death and Death her Reaper. Perfect balance of chaos and control.”

Price let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Bloody hell... they really do.”

----------- An Investigation

By the time Captain Price reached the base, the drive had given him plenty of time to process everything. He was still reeling from what he'd learned, but that wasn’t going to stop him from getting answers. His mind still on the tiny, dangerous woman he’d just encountered.

After everyone got out of the 4x4 and decided to retreat to their own quarters, there was a collective yawn from Johnny, Roach, and Gaz, as they all called it a night. It had been a long, exhausting, and somewhat terrifying day. Captain Price waved them off, his own mind still turning over the events.

Once inside his quarters, he glanced at the clock, realizing it was still a little early in Washington, D.C. A quick thought crossed his mind—if anyone knew anything about "The Morrigan," it would be Laswell.

He grabbed his comms and dialed in. It rang once, twice, before the line clicked on.

“Hi, good evening, Laswell,” Price said, his voice a little more cautious than usual. “Do you know anything about ‘The Morrigan’?”

A/N: About YOU!! (Y/N) being Ghost’s Goddess, sounds nice, doesn’t it? You’re the Goddess “The Morrigan,” and Simon—Death, the Reaper. Such a perfect match!!! I hope you all enjoyed the chaos and comedy in this one! Apologies for the late update—I had to do a bit of research and juggle some work,Thanks for your patience and for reading! 💀✨

P.S. I might write another one, who knows? A little short continuity here and there once I get the right idea, but for now, nothing planned. I’ll post if I do though!

[wobblesthecowgirl]

I'm No O’Driscoll!

Chapter Three: Arthur's Doubts

Tags: Arthur Morgan x Femreader, enemies to lovers, O'Driscoll reader, game plot, Arthur doesn't have tuberculosis, eventual smut, age difference, 18+, mild gore

Word Count: 975

A/N: Sorry for a short chapter! Next chapter is going to be a long one...Lenny, Arthur, and Reader get drunk in Valantine! Comment how you want that to go! I've also changed the layout to see which is preferred.

Chapter One

Chapter Four

Arthur was starting to have doubts about letting both O’Driscoll’s join the gang. On the ride back to camp, he couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of them gunning down those there. Especially her. Where did she learn to shoot like that? She’s too quick.

Luckily, when he arrived, the place was calm and peaceful…or as peaceful as it could be. He scanned for the new members: Kieran was getting some soup from a not so happy Pearson, and then he finally saw her. It was clear the first thing she did as a free woman was have a wash and brush her hair.

Arthur couldn’t deny that she was definitely pretty, but her sour attitude, O’Driscoll past, and constant scowl made him hate her so much that he could look past how beautiful she was. However, when he watched from afar, he saw how she interacted with Mary-Beth: Her eyes were soft, her mouth curled up slightly at the corners, and she was even laughing lightly at times.

For some reason, this only annoyed him further. He strode over towards the two women who were sat on a blanket, looking up at him.

“You behavin’ yourself?” He asked, and there it was. Her famous scowl.

“You’re not going to give me a minute’s peace, are you?”

Now that he was closer, he could see had to look through her long lashes, and she had a small scar along her neck like Javier. Mary-Beth coughed.

“Is there something you need, Arthur?”

He shook his head, “Oh no, I was just making sure our new friend wasn’t giving you any trouble. God knows she gives it out a lot.” The woman shook her head to disagree, putting her book down.

“Not at all! She’s actually pleasant company.”

It was Y/n’s turn to talk, “I’m right here. Which, for your information, I’m a delight when I actually like the person. But, for a strange reason, I don’t like big dumb grunts who shoot me!”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Give it a rest woman. You’re gonna have to get over that one day.”

The wind picked up slightly, making Y/n’s hair flow a little, and he was looking a bit too intently by accident. Mary-Beth stood up suddenly, causing the other two to turn to her. She excused herself, explaining she had chores to attend to, and scampered off. Arthur and Y/n stayed in awkward silence for a few seconds before she finally spoke up.

“Are you going to stand there or say something?”

He narrowed his eyes, staying stood because sitting next to her seemed too friendly, but the awkward pose of her sat looking up at him while he stood above her was just as bad.

“I’m just here to warn you that if you try anything- “

“Oh, give it a rest old man,” She spat as his eyes widened.

“Old man? You gotta be kidding, old man?”

Y/n laughed, tilting her head back slightly at his response. She stood up, dusting off her jeans. Despite being stood up now, she still had to look up. Tiny thing, she is. He asked, “And how old are you exactly?”

“Why? You interested?” She teased… flirted? He couldn’t tell, but he didn’t like either option.

He scowled at her, “Don’t be so cocky, girl. I’m askin’ ‘cos you’re acting like I’m as old as Hosea.”

“I’m in my early twenties, that’s all you’re getting.” She informed him, and for some reason, his stomach dropped. Arthur should’ve guessed she was young, she didn’t look older than thirty, but it still shocked him. Then she asked the same question. He chuckled lightly, looking away from her.

“I’m in my mid-thirties, old enough to be your Daddy.”

“Well, you don’t look a day over fifty.” She smiled sickly, enjoying tormenting the older man.

“Real mature of you.” He scoffed, before turning around without a goodbye. He couldn’t stand talking to her much longer; every single sentence she threw his way only jabbed him more and more, which would cause him to snap eventually. He found himself at Dutch’s tent, who was sat smoking a cigar and lost in thought. When he saw Arthur, his face lit up.

“Arthur! And to what do I owe the pleasure?” He took another puff.

“I just came to talk to you about that O’Driscoll girl.”

Dutch sat up straight, concern on his face, “Is she causing trouble?”

“Not exactly,” He rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s about her aim. When we were at Six Point, I was about to get shot, but she saved me. Put a bullet right between the man’s eyebrows. In seconds. That ain’t normal.”

The music was blaring from inside the tent like it usually did at this time, and Arthur could hear the rest of the members shouting and laughing. It almost drowned Dutch out.

“Where are you going with this, son?” The leader asked. Arthur paused, rubbing his chin.

“My point is, I don’t think she’ll cause trouble, but keep an eye on the guns around here.”

Dutch leaned back into his chair, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

“Or, we could use her to our advantage.” He was already planning something, a new chess piece for his board. Arthur rose an eyebrow and asked, “What you plannin’?”

He nodded his head, thoughts and ideas running through his head, “We are going to get Sean back, having her behind the scenes could be very helpful. Especially in a place like Blackwater.”

“Dutch…” Arthur groaned, “I can’t trust her. She may’ve saved my life, but she probably did it to save her own hide.”

“Well then, sounds like you two need to do a little bonding.” Dutch smirked, taking the final huff of his cigar, as he continued to scheme; much to Arthur’s dismay.

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Helllooo

Do you have any dust sans x reader *spicy* fics..? 👀

Howdy, thanks for asking! Here are some fics that might fit what you're looking for!

Down The Rabbit Hole by ChibiGeekie (Explicit, Incomplete)

Undertale has been well known among so many people in the whole world. It's universes spanning wide, created by the same people who fell in love with the video game series. But what if, those universes, those multiverses, were real? That's where this story resides, following a strange female that fell down a dusty hole. No memory of WHO she is. But with the knowledge of knowing WHERE she is. (( This is a pure indulgent story. Expect only updates when the mood strikes. )) (( No apparent end date or chapters. Be mindful of Tags. ))

Hold on tight to this time, this place (‘cause everything you know will be erased) by Whitelotusesarentsopure (Mature, Incomplete)

“it’s dust.” ”….huh?” “my name. it’s dust. now we aren’t strangers.” “…Dust… as in..“ “yeah s’ exactly what you’re thinking. so quit askin’ me questions and shut up already.” “You got blood all over my place. I just saved you from bleeding out. You could at least be nice.” You bit back, annoyed. Eye lights glared at you in the dark. — Or, the grouchy skeleton keeps coming back for some reason.

A Bonely New Friend by CerezaLane (Mature, Complete)

All you wanted to do was go home following a night out with the girls...why is HE following you??? Oh...maybe that skeleton can help?

can I fax your SOUL? by paradiseblues (Explicit, Incomplete)

ᴄᴇʀꜰ&ᴛʀᴏᴛᴛɪᴇʀ ʙᴏᴏᴋꜱ 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘳. the office manager of a book manufacturing and selling business has a certain fondness for the new secretive temp assistant. despite her higher position, she didn't fully realize just how many secrets that man kept. or the many other ones they'd have to keep hidden behind closed doors as they made an agreement and started to solve a bumpy case together.

melting slushies. by paradiseblues (Explicit, Incomplete)

let's cut it short. you are a nobody, a human in their mid twenties with a job just as dull as everything else in their mundane life. forgotten dreams, aching wallet, no friends, no family, no lover. nothing. well, except for your kitty and the measly amount of interactions you get at the clubs you always go to. so guess what happens when you meet a mysterious skeleton in the gas station you work at? why you obsess over him, of course. what else?

[sebsxphia]

guilt & hangovers.

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ description: rhett soothes your worries from the night before.

￫ c/w: drug and alcohol use, recovery, sobriety, hangovers, swearing, titty touching, kissing, food.

￫ a/n: as i go through recovery, i’ve found it comforting to myself to write these pieces. i hope it brings any level of comfort to all who read! <3 my ‘sobriety’ masterlist can be found here! my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Your eyes squinted open slowly, peeling awake to the sunlight falling through your lacy curtains on your bedroom window. The reflection of the morning sun in your eyes shot to your headache immediately, making you wince. Your mouth felt full with cotton and your body ached a little. Rhett slipped in through your bedroom door with a warm smile.

“Good mornin’, gorgeous.” You gave him a kiss in response as he curled back into bed next to you. You propped yourself up slightly to lie on Rhett’s chest, humming in content. You were slightly hungover, but the warmth of your lover soothed your head.

“Y’ had a good time last night?”

“I think…” You questioned yourself as you played back the night behind your closed eyes. You remembered everything, which was the first good sign, but you were slightly on edge at Rhett’s question. “Oh God, why d’ y’ ask? Did I do somethin’ stupid?” You grumbled and winced again, burying your face further into his chest as you awaited his response.

You felt his chest vibrate with a chuckle and he soothed his fingers through your hair to reassure you. “No, no, darlin’. Just in the truck home, y’ were smilin’ to yourself, talkin’ about how happy y’ were, how much y’ enjoyed the night.”

“Oh.” You hummed back to Rhett. A small smile graced your lips with relief. “Yeah, I remember that.”

You do remember. That was good.

You both lay there in a domestic and blissful silence for a while. Rhett didn’t let go of holding you close to his chest as you let the morning sun wash over you both, slowly waking you up for the day. It was a rare Sunday when you had no ranch work to do urgently, hence the chance to have a drink last night. You were planning to enjoy this Sunday like you did best together. Wrapped up in the bedsheets and making home cooked meals. Your stomach grumbled at the delicious thought, but your mind was still pre-occupied with more pressing matters. Rhett’s question, again. That triggered something in the back of your mind. Past memories clouded your senses and you just had to ask one more time—

“Y’ sure I didn’t do anythin’ stupid?”

He chuckled again and squeezed you tightly to his chest, wordlessly reassuring you. “Why y’ askin’ so much, baby?”

“I guess, I just… I feel, guilty?” You rounded off your statement with a questioning tone. You weren’t sure what this feeling was. You instinctively drew your nail beds to your teeth as you chewed on them with nervous hesitation. Your nails had grew in the last couple of months. Without the constant gnawing from your swinging jaw once a bag of powder was soaked through your nerves, you had no real reason to constantly bite them. None the less, Rhett was there as a wordless reminder, drawing your fingers away from your teeth to play with them mindlessly. Deep down, he was purposefully distracting you, but on Sunday mornings such as these, he enjoyed feeling out each crease and indent on your hands.

“Don’t,” Rhett’s voice came almost a beat afterwards. “Y’ had some drinks, got a good level of ‘drunk’ and came home to me. No drugs, nothin’. It’s ok to have a bit of fun. You’re doin’ so much better now, y’ shouldn’t feel guilty for that.”

You were still laying on his chest and listening to the rumble of his morning voice through your ear, staring ahead and taking in his words. Your eyes traced over the pattern on your lacy curtains. You registered his words, but the guilt.

The fucking guilt.

It was gnawing away at your stomach like you would your nails.

“But d’ you remember what—”

Your proposed, and self inflicting argument against yourself, was cut short by Rhett barking out a quiet laugh. “Nope, nu-uh.” He clicked his tongue between his teeth and you sat up to look at him now. He wetted his bottom lip with his tongue as he shook his head, still with a small and knowing smile on his face. “I know you, your group knows you, your support worker knows you. You’re doin’ so, so fuckin’ well, darlin’. I won’t let anyone tell my diamond girl ‘ny different.”

“Okay.” You mumbled with a loving smile gracing your lips. You were still feeling a little too hungover to argue, and, you knew Rhett was right.

“Okay.” He agreed with you and outstretched his large calloused hands to cup at your jaw and squeeze on your cheeks. “C’ ere.” He pulled you down to meet him again and placed one, two, then three, repeated kisses on your lips. As he parted with a wanton and low groan, he asked the one question that he knew would make all your worries disappear in an instant.

“Y’ want a fry up?”

You comically groaned, almost similar to how you would when Rhett’s face was buried between your thighs. You let your eyes roll back into your skull and you flopped down dramatically onto the mattress, withering with obscene pleasure at the thought of your lovers famous fry ups.

“Fuckin’, please.”

A playful smile was still plastered on your lips and Rhett’s lips, mirroring your humor in seeing you react like that. He leaned down once more to kiss you again, expanding his palm to give your bare breasts a squeeze before leaving you in bed to make a start on breakfast.

“Grab the laptop, put on what y’ want, my sweet thing.” He called out to you from your shared bedroom doorway.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @unmistakablyunknown @iloveprettyboysblog @wkndwlff @flames-thebitch @peachystenbrough if you would like to be added or removed, please let me know! <3

[kichous]

✧･ﾟ:*   everything but talk it through

summary. it should raise questions, how you’re the first person he chooses to see before a trip abroad. but you’re too distracted by his hand slipping down your waistband. series. a night of dark trees. part one. part two. part three you’re here! pairing. gojo satoru x gn!reader. warnings. heavy ( non-explicit ) mentions of sex. word count. 2521.

Gojo arrives uninvited, unannounced, and at his leisure. Such is the way he arrives at most, if not all, functions. Except this is no function, and you had been hoping to just enjoy a quiet night in before the work week started. You’re so used to Gojo that you don’t even bother yelling at him for the intrusion anymore, instead rolling your eyes at his entirely too cheerful greeting.

“I’m going on a business trip,” he chirps, as though you had asked. “Want me to get you anything?”

He set himself up for this one. “I want you to get away from me.”

“Aw.” You are unmoved by his glossy pout, the protrusion of his lower lip instead making a vein throb in your forehead. “You’re so mean to me.”

But even as he says so, you’re reaching into the cupboard for his favorite purple mug, the kettle already on the stove. He’s hunched over your kitchen counter, legs looped around those of one of your stools like he’s some kind of cephalopod. He’s comfortable here, which flies directly into the face of your supposed inhospitable nature. Murmuring a thanks as he takes the steaming cup from you—”Coaster!” you snap, making him jump—Gojo dumps an inhuman amount of sugar into his tea and props his chin up with his left hand.

“So, not that I care or anything,” you drawl, nursing your own drink, “what exactly is this business trip for and how long will you be gone?”

“Why, you askin’ ‘cause you need to know whether to break the Hitachi out while I’m gone?” Gojo laughs blithely, his Infinity batting away the soggy teabag you lob at him. It lands on the counter with a wet plop, and he gets up to toss it in your wastebin. “Shouldn’t be more than a couple of weeks. Just a little something to do with your dear little friend.”

Ah. The less you know about Yuji’s legal status, the better. Your primary concern is the boy himself, and Gojo’s doing you a favor by giving you some level of plausible deniability. Not that it would stick much, given that you had direct contact with the child. The higher-ups may have scoffed at your line of work, but they never considered you disobedient. You’re not sure what the ultimate blowback in this situation will end up being. You appreciate the fact that he’s at least trying to lessen the blow.

“So?” prods Gojo, doing so with his bony elbow as well. “What’ll it be? Baobab seed? Wicker basket? Blood diamond?”

You just barely keep from shooting scalding liquid from your nostrils. The look on your face, bug-eyed as it must be, serves as a source of endless amusement for him. Hacking wetly into the cuff of your sleeve, you wag a disapproving finger at him.

“One, that is so incredibly inappropriate.” You then allow your hand to go limp to flash the ice on your ring finger. “Two, I already have all the diamonds I’ll ever need. And three, knowing how cheap you are, you’d definitely bring me back cubic zirconia and try to dupe me into believing they’re real diamonds.”

“Cheap?! The outfit I’m wearing right now is 800,000 yen! Including my underwear.”

“Sure.”

He scowls. “So mean. You know, just for that, I’m going to get you a voodoo doll.”

“Wouldn’t you be in the wrong part of the world for a voodoo doll if your first offering was a baobab seed?” You snicker at Gojo’s frustrated wail. “You’re just going to steal one from Kugisaki and lie about it, aren’t you? I know you, you damn scam artist!”

“I am feeling so very attacked right now. This is a hate crime against the protected class of attractive young men. You’ll go to jail for this.” Crossing his arms, Gojo harrumphs like a small child and makes a ninety-degree turn on the stool. He shrugs your hand off when you try to apologetically pat him on the shoulder. “No. I’m still mad at you.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” You make a show of mockingly bowing at him, and when that proves ineffective, you round the counter to kowtow at his feet. That, at least, earns you a smile. “Ah! There it is, arising in the east, Satoru’s smile is the sun.”

Gojo huffs, unwinding his arms. “That’s not how the line goes.”

“And that’s why you’re the teacher, not me.” You hop up on the stool next to him, mirroring his posture as you prop your elbow on the granite. “But seriously, is that all you came to say? You’re leaving? Are you making the rounds to everyone or could you not have just sent that in an e-mail?”

He leans closer, ankle brushing against yours. His glasses slip just a bit down the tip of his nose as he smirks—leers, really—at you. “Maybe I came here looking for a going away present. Maybe… something like a kiss?”

Ah, and there it is. You tilt your head, brushing the tip of your nose against his. You’re so close you can feel the warm puff of his breath against your lips. It’s like Gojo’s a black hole, slowly reeling you in. “Just a kiss?”

“Something to remember you by.” And then he closes the gap between the two of you.

Gojo’s an amazing kisser, and he knows it—just one of the many reasons that you find it increasingly difficult to say no to him. As self-absorbed as he can be, Satoru’s a generous lover. You have a feeling he gets an ego boost from driving his partners wild with pleasure. Not as unselfish a motive as you would prefer from a lover, but who are you to look a gift horse (or snake, according to his entirely too apt lunar zodiac) in the mouth? Your tongue’s the only thing that should be going in it.

His hands catch at your hips as you part, the sensation of air against your kiss-swollen lips breaking you out of your reverie. He tucks his head into your neck, leaving sharp little nips down the column of your throat as he pulls you against him. You can feel the pitter-patter of his heartbeat. It’s nearly as fast as yours. Winding your fingers through his hair, you tilt your head back with a sigh. He’s hot—a blazing inferno against your body, threatening to consume you whole. Your eyes fly open when he hoists you into the air abruptly. Instinctually, you lock your legs around Satoru’s waist as he lays a palm just above the curve of your ass to support your lower back.

“A little warning would have been nice,” you hiss, batting him lightly on the shoulder.

“We’re way past the time for talking,” says Satoru, his voice a low, hoarse rasp. His glasses have slipped almost all the way down his nose, the all-encompassing blue of his eyes almost invisible with how dilated his pupils are. You did this to him, you think triumphantly. You’re why his breath runs ragged, why his mouth is a ravaged red, why his pulse pounds with want.

Satoru is very familiar with the layout of your apartment, his gaze never leaving yours as he guides you both to your bedroom. You trust him not to walk you into a wall, though the brief weightlessness of being thrown onto your bed punches a startled “Eep!” out of you. “Mattress wasn’t soft enough for that—!”

Satoru tugs his shirt off instead of apologizing out loud. Your hand flies to his exposed chest without permission, fingers tracing squiggly lines down the planes of muscle. The pad of your thumb ghosts above a nipple, making Satoru tremble, and you catch it between your teeth. It—and the flash of tongue against the stiffening peak—draws a cry from Satoru, his back arching. You soothe the sting with gentle laps of your tongue as your free hand toys with the other side of his chest. Your right hand gropes at his ass. When you draw your fingers into his back pocket, you hear the crinkle of foil and tug at the packet—gold, with the English word MAGNUM written across it.

“You smug bastard,” you laugh. “You came here with a plan—’going away present,’ my ass.”

“Your ass is the present,” Satoru snorts. “You got a problem with that?”

“No. Not at all.”

Both of you are left breathless in the end, all thoughts of taking your time flying out the window when the opportunity to rut like animals presents itself. You’ll never get enough of it, the way Satoru groans low in his throat when he presses into you for the first time, or the way he folds himself over you no matter which position you’re in, skin against skin from head to toe.

It’s always amazing with him. That’s why you keep him around, after all. You’re up for another round, or three, if he’s able. Satoru catches his breath next to you, swatting your hand away with a hiss as your fingers crawl over his hip in a spider-like motion.

A laugh bubbles out of you, delirious and just barely more than a wheeze. You’re still breathless and warm, your heartbeat a frenetic rabbit’s pace in your ribcage. “Do you ever get tired?” you ask, itching to brush snowy locks away from his forehead.

“What do you mean?” Satoru props himself up on his elbow, gazing down at you inquisitively.

“Well.” It’s a strange topic to broach; neither of you has ever spoken at length about this… partnership of yours. There’s always been an unspoken rule about preserving its sanctity this way—no need to make it complicated.

You’re both attractive people, and you want each other. Simple, transactional, and way better than therapy (which is funny, coming from you). You’re not foolish enough to believe someone like Satoru would limit himself. Those who know him probably wouldn’t want to touch him with a ten-foot pole, but strangers wouldn’t resist the temptation of his long legs and sculpted torso, his soft lips and brilliant eyes. “If this is how you put out for everyone you’ve ever been with, I don’t know how you do it. I know you’ve got boundless cursed energy, but I didn’t think that extend to regular—”

“I’m…” He looks puzzled. Almost hurt. An uncomfortable weight settles in your gut. “I’m not sleeping with anyone else. Are… are you…?”

“No.” You’re not as embarrassed by the admission as you are at his expression when you speak. Satoru’s cheeks puff slightly as he exhales, his brows drifting upward in what you can only describe as relief. He smiles, and it’s more gentle than predatory. You’re not used to him being this open. You’re not used to him being this nice. “What’s that face for?”

“My face is just my face,” laughs Satoru. He traces a gentle line down your jaw with a knuckle. You think he’s about to kiss you, shutting your eyes in anticipation as you feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. This leaves you wholly unprepared for the actual curve of his mouth, around words rather than a silent gesture.

“I love you.”

Your eyes fly open. It is no comfort to see he’s just as surprised as you are that he’d said it. All you can do is gape at him, a violent stabbing feeling in your chest as the bed seemingly falls away from underneath you. You must be dreaming. You pinch yourself. You’re not. And Satoru—Gojo, God, when did you get so familiar with him?—stares at you in anguish, hurt pouring out of him like a flood.

Not a single part of this situation makes sense to you. Not why he blurted it out. Not why he meant it. Not why he would ever expose his soft underbelly like this, practically holding up a neon sign denoting one of his few weaknesses.

Not why you rush to console him when heartbreak etches itself into the lines of his face. Not how you choose to offer your support with a highly unwelcome and unhelpful, “Thanks.”

You’ve not had to respond to those three words in a long time. You’re out of practice. But even you know that wasn’t the right thing to say.

Gojo doesn’t even call you out on it, instead reeling away from you as though he’s been shot. He stumbles free of the sheets, all ungainly limbs askew. His fringe shields his eyes from you as he hastily dresses himself. Stonily silent, he crams his shades on and he’s lost to you forever.

The situation is unsalvageable, a lost cause. Some could rightfully accuse you of being a pessimist, but there’s really no greater example than this. In the face of Gojo’s hurt, actual heartbreak—something you had never once thought him capable of—you’re powerless. You’re the one who hurt him, after all. How could anything you say be a balm to the pain you’ve caused?

“Wait,” you say weakly, but of course he doesn’t.

“I have to go,” is all Gojo says, punctuated by heavy footfalls and followed by the slamming of your front door. He hadn’t even found it in himself to crack a joke as he fled.

Pulling yourself up into a sitting position, you put your head in your hands. Part of you wants to be angry at him for taking a perfectly good thing and screwing it all up. But that’s not fair. He couldn’t help falling for you any more than you could help falling in love with your only classmate when you were fifteen. No, it’s the guilt that infuriates you—that Gojo’s gone and made you feel bad for hurting his feelings.

(And there’s another secret thing that you refuse to acknowledge.)

You can freely admit that your reaction was poor and hurtful. You will apologize for that, if Gojo will allow you to. He hadn’t said when he would be leaving for his trip, but it would be in poor taste to wait for longer than a week—especially if you want to sleep with him ever again. And you do. But would that be a good idea? And is that the only reason you want to apologize?

Trust Gojo to go and make everything this complicated. You sigh mournfully for the status quo. You’ll give him the rest of the night to lick his wounds. You have some of your own to nurse, a yawning gaping void in your chest that frays at the edges and brings tears unbidden to your eyes. Squeezing them shut, you beg for blissful sleep to take you, so you don’t have to think or feel or do much of anything anymore.

(The truth of it is, when Gojo said it, you felt happy. That was your immediate reaction. And that frightens you. Try as you might to move on, as your long lost beloved—so good and kind and sweet—would have wanted for you, you’re terrified of it actually happening.

It’s deliciously pathetic. Between a mass murderer and… you, Gojo Satoru needs better taste.)