#this sucks but eh I’ll get through it
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winterwrxter · 1 year ago
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So. My laptop got confiscated along with my phone yesterday for reasons that I do not wish to explain which is why I could not make nor post day 8 yesterday. I got my phone back this morning but not my laptop which means that I either gotta hand-draw the art on paper for this, or do it digitally on my phone. Just wanted to say this so you know why the quality will not be the best for days 8-9. The terrible quality will pain me too. But uh hopefully I should be getting my laptop back by Friday (tomorrow) but there’s no promises. So that’s the gist of it. I should be posting day 8 and day 9 later today. Thank you for listening to my TED talk.
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gojonanami · 3 months ago
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❝ 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ! ❞
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❝ THEY TOOK YOU. SO SATORU GOJO DID THE ONLY REASONABLE THING — HE TOOK THEIR LIVES ! ❞
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✧ pairing: gojo satoru x sorcerer!reader
✧ summary: satoru gojo rarely loses his cool. except when it comes to you. so when you get taken and found hurt, he takes matters into his own hands to find out who did it and make them pay.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, canon compliant, feral gojo, acts of violence, reader gets kidnapped and attacked, gojo goes insane, gojo clan sucks, higher ups get asses best, yaga and Ijichi featured, dom!gojo, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral (f), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, implied multiple rounds, swearing,
✧ w/c: 8,446
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The worst mistake Satoru Gojo ever made that morning was to get out of bed.
If he had just stayed in bed that morning, turned his cellphone on silent, and basked in the warmth of the soft comforter you had picked out (even as you balked at the exorbitant price) and especially in the warmth of your embrace — the one place where it felt as if it was okay to be himself, just him.
And now it was just him.
Because you were gone.
When his phone rang that morning, your lips had been against his, indulging in a lazy morning tryst because for once, Satoru had been off duty — or he was supposed to be off duty. Your gaze had been the ones to stir him from sleep, as even in the embrace of sleep he couldn’t resist you or your adoring eyes — the very same he held more precious than his own.
“I didn’t even say anything, how did you wake up?” And his lips curl at your slight frown, his fingers brushing over the curve of your cheek.
“Thought my pretty wife was admiring my beauty while I slept so I had to wake up to the same,” and he’s leaning over to press lazy kisses along your jaw.
“Did you just call yourself beautiful?” You snort, and he grins, before falling into a playful pout.
“My own wife doesn’t think her husband’s beautiful?” And you’re rolling your eyes, before rolling over on top of him, your body only covered by the black t-shirt you had stolen from him last night, a small groan as he felt your very bare thighs brush against his boxers.
You were a goddess — your smile ethereal in the sunlight streaming in from the window as you leaned over him, and he was willing to worship all his life at your altar, if you would only give him a brush of your lips.
“Of course I think you’re beautiful, I’m the one always saying that anyway,” your lips brush his chastely, far too quick and teasing, “I was just imagining what Nanami would say if he heard that,”
“Oh? And what’s that, sweetheart?”
“He would say the size of your ego is becoming a threat to Earth’s atmosphere,” and Satoru raises an eyebrow.
“And my darling wife would disagree, right?” and you look away, biting back a smile, “eh? You’d let him say such heinous things about me?”
“It’s not heinous if it’s true—“ you gasp, and he’s flipped you on your back, pressing his lips to yours to swallow your words, along with your giggles, as you break free, “Toru! Ah—“ and he nibbles at your neck, “hey!”
“You have to pay for the consequences of your actions, baby, what kind of sensei would I be?” And you’re rolling your eyes.
“I’m not your student, ngh,” you’re gasping as his teeth sinks into your neck, “if anything, I’m the one reigning you in,”
“Well then,” he chuckled in his words, as his fingers trace your jaw, “I’ll have to show you how far your student has come then,” and his lips only brush yours, when his phone rings.
“Baby,” you sigh, and he’s glancing at the phone, a sigh on his lips, as he reaches for the phone, sneaking a glance at you, before he picks up.
You press sweet kisses to his chest as you hear the faint murmur of Yaga’s voice through the phone, hearing reports of the special grades they’ve been tracking, “Old man, this is the first day off I’ve taken off in so looooong,” and he holds the phone away from his ear until Yaga’s screams fade, “fine, fine, send Ijichi,” he hangs up while Yaga was still mid-yell, tossing his phone on the bedside table with a sigh, “sweetheart,”
“I know,” you cup his cheek, his lips in a pout not made for the strongest sorcerer, but for your Satoru, “I’ll be here when you come back — waiting very impatiently,” and he chuckles, his lips finding yours.
“How’d I get so lucky to have such an understanding wife?” And your lips curl.
“You annoyed her into falling in love,” and he gapes at you as you giggle, until he’s got you pinned underneath him yet again, “what? It’s true!”
“Then I’ll have to annoy you some more, just to make sure,” and he’s finding you in another kiss, until his devilish fingers run down your sides, beginning their assault on the spots that made you laugh the most.
You pulled your lips from his, squealing, “Nooooo! Satoru, stop!” you tried to push him off from tickling you, but he was the strongest for a reason—a reason you usually were very grateful for, but not right now. And finally he relented, as you gasped and chuckled still, lips in the most adorable pout, “you’ll pay for that,”
“Oh really? How’s that, wifey?” and you kiss his lips chastely, barely a brush, as you cross your arms, fighting back a smile.
“That’s the only goodbye kiss you get,” and he gasps, clutching his chest dramatically, before that smirk of his returns, “and you try to steal one and I’m making you sleep on the couch,” And he pouts, before you press a longer kiss to his lips, “you’re lucky I love you,”
Satoru grinned, “I know.”’
Yeah, he should have never gotten out of bed.
“Where is she?” For once, Satoru’s words were devoid of humor, the laughter and happiness sapped from his very essence the moment he had heard. The moment he had felt your cursed energy waver. All this time, Satoru’s eyes had been focused on the outline of your soul, no matter where he was, because you were always the one thing he wanted to come home to — that he needed to.
“I don’t know Satoru, that’s why I had called you,” Yaga runs his fingers through his hair, “goddamnit,” he swore, scrubbing a hand down his face, “the mission came from the higher ups, they wouldn’t give me the specifics, but they said it was confidential—“
“I don’t care for the details right now, do we know anything about where she is?” Satoru keeps his words carefully measured, muscles wound taut, the only thing keeping him from using blue to destroy Jujutsu Tech in one fell swoop was the thought of you, “did she tell you anything else—“
And Ijichi bursts in, brow furrowed, “Gojo, we have a lead.”
~~~
Was this how it would end?
You knew it was in your fate to die, eventually. A wretched cycle that all of you were forced to live. An endless baton pass that always ended with the last runner dying — nothing but a pile of corpses left behind and to look back on.
And it would almost be a relief, a blessing to finally be done — if it wasn’t for Satoru.
You knew he would blame himself for this. He always blamed himself. Blamed himself when he couldn’t beat Toji. Blamed himself when he couldn’t save Riko. Blamed himself when he couldn’t save Geto. Because he was the strongest, and that meant he should be able to solve everyone’s problems — do everything no one else can do, be everywhere at once, and never fail.
Never. And yet, that’s not what the sleepless nights he spent working told you. It only told you that jujutsu would take everything from him, if he let it, and he would let it, if only that meant he could do more good.
And he was so good. Even if he didn’t see it — you could almost feel the lingering warmth of his embrace this morning, the wide grin on his lips as he peppered kisses down your neck, and the soft gaze of blues made of affection just for you — you would always see it for him.
You don’t see the curse coming, your vision blurred from the last strike. The crack of your bones barely registers in your ears, the curse presses you into the wall, claws pressed to your throat, drawing blood to run down your neck.
“Now, now, we can’t kill her, at least not yet,” a voice calls out, “we were given strict orders to wait,”
The curse’s growl reverberated across your skin, a desperate growl deep in its chest, the string of control being pulled taut, as its black nails dig deeper into your side, until it dropped you onto the ground like a rag doll.
Your body ached only for moments before it was chased away by numbness. And you could only wonder if this was how they felt? Riko, Haibara, Geto, all the others you watched die — was this the pain they felt? The ache of muscles that they could no longer feel, the sticky wetness of blood that seeped from their unknowing bodies, and the cold thst crept up from the tips of your toes.
You wanted it to stop. You wanted to stop. But each time you felt the tug of the other side, you couldn’t let go. You couldn’t. Not when Satoru needed you.
Your eyes burn with tears. And you needed him.
~~~
“Where is she?” The same question was ringing in Satoru’s head over and over since he had heard.
Candle wicks trembled with fear, casting shadows on the wall that shivered in the presence of the man before them. The papered panels was all that stood between him and these old men — the very same that played with the lives of many day in and day out. It would be far too easy to kill them all — in fact, it would barely take any effort at all with his cursed technique.
But he wouldn’t allow them the warm embrace of an instant death.
“Such insolence — how dare you enter this place and speak—“
“You ought to be thanking me,” his power sparked in the glint of his eyes, the glow of the lit wicks catching in the hard blues, “for not bashing your skulls in and ripping your hearts from your chests from the moment I entered,”
A silence swept over the room, another voice speaking, “Gojo—“
“The next words out of your mouth better be an answer because I don’t want to ask again,” his voice fills the silence in the room, only broken by the sounds of the candles crackle, “where is she?”
“We cannot disclose where—“ there’s a loud crack, the splintering of wood and the wet squelch of flesh and blood, and a cold breeze swept through the room, the candles going out.
Satoru’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of his neck, forcing the broken floorboards digging into his wrinkled skin, “I said I want an answer, do you think I would think twice about killing any of you?”
There’s a pause and the silence is only filled by the sound of gore dripping down the paper screens and hitting the floor.
“The only reason I haven’t yet was there was no point to it — no meaning,” and he could see you this morning, his lips curled for you, a strangled choking noise leaving his throat as the pads of his fingers squeezed around his neck, “but now I have every reason to, so tell me before I lose my patience,”
A silence fills the room again, until one of them speaks, “Let him go, and we’ll tell you.”
~~~
“Who do you work for?” the words come out strangled, your fingers bunching up your soaked fabric and pressing it to the gash on your stomach, “why did you bring me here?” You force yourself not to give them the satisfaction of a flinch.
“Do you really think it would be that simple to get me to reveal the reason, jujutsu sorcerer?” you hear a distant laugh, “we have our reasons, isn’t that simple enough? Or rather—”
His footsteps clapped against the floor, your head wrenched upwards, as a small yelp escapes your lips, “does it matter when you’re going to die either way?”
And you grit your teeth, before spitting on his face, half blood, half saliva, “At least I don’t have to live a life as pathetic as yours,” his fingers squeeze at your chin, your jaw aching under his grasp.
“Pathetic?” He wipes his face with the sleeve of his shirt before, throwing you to the floor, body screaming in pain, but you refuse to show weakness, even as tears burn at your tear ducts, “And yet, I’m not the one bloodied and battered and two inches from death, bitch,” he scoffs, muttering, “I can see why they ordered us to kill you now, who would want someone like you around?”
“Now I’m listening, who gave you those orders?” Another voice says from behind him. The man freezes, while you lift your head, a small smile on your lips, “are you hard of hearing or just plain stupid? Well, I don’t really need to even ask that, do I?”
He was shrouded in shadow, but you didn’t need to see him to know it was him — especially as he tugged his blindfold down with two fingers, blue eyes devoid of any humor or joy, and instead only with hatred.
“Satoru Gojo,” the voice left the man’s lips slowly, but before he could react, the special grade curse that had held you was barreling towards him in a moment, before Satoru held it at bay with his infinity, the other curses following suit — how many did this curse user have in the room with him? Three? No more like five or six, but even so — you scoffed under your breath, it wouldn’t matter, “No, you idiots! Don’t—”
And in a moment, they are eviscerated — held back by his infinity, deep seeded growls and roars leaving their lips, “c’mon now, is this the best you can do? I was expecting more from those bold enough to take my wife, but I guess I expected too much,” he sighs, before he lifts one hand, “Cursed Technique Amplification, Blue,”
You barely can make out the screams from one another, the splatter of their essence raining down from above, until you hear footsteps rushing towards you, and you’re hauled to your feet, pressed against the cursed user, his hand around your neck.
“One more move, and I break her neck,” Satoru landed below with ease, his gaze raised until he met yours, and you saw it soften for you — a silent question of ‘are you okay?’ and your nod and a forced smile that told him you were okay enough.
“You can try,” his words were slow and measured, just as his steps towards you were, “but I don’t think you understand who you are dealing with,”
He tensed, fingers digging into your neck, “I know perfectly well who you are, Satoru Gojo, and I am not afraid to die by your hand for this,”
Satoru’s lips curled, “I wasn’t talking about me,”
The kidnapper’s eyes narrowed, “What?”
And you jabbed at his knee, the bone splintering under your force, but you barely hear the snap or his scream because of the blood roaring in your ears. You don’t spare a second before slamming your other hand into his head, nose breaking from your fist, blood splattering across your arm. You ready yourself for another move, before you felt him ripped away from you, a strong arm around you to steady you.
“It’s okay, I got you, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Satoru murmured, soft words meant to soothe you, as his body envelops your tense muscles, until you finally relax into his arms. Your eyes burned with tears, as you looked up at him, before your eyes slid to the kidnapper, Satoru’s hand around his throat.
“I knew you’d come for me, Toru,” you whispered, grasping onto the front of his jacket, “I knew you would,”
“I always will,” and his eyes turned to the man, voice even, “should I kill him once I’m done questioning him?”
You know he means it.
“I don’t know,” you reply, fingers curling as you pressed your face against his chest, “but I don’t want you to have blood on your hands, not for me,”
“It wouldn’t be for you. It would be for me,” he says softly, “but we can discuss it later,” and then others began to flood the scene, the sights and sounds feeling distant as your eyes drooped with exhaustion.
“Satoru, I’m—“ your voice broke, “I really tried—“
“Shh, you did great,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your head, as you finally succumbed to exhaustion, slumping over in his arms, “I’ll handle the rest.”
~~~
“You all must be wondering why I called this meeting,” Satoru said, standing at the head of the Gojo clan’s meeting room. It had been long since he had stood as the head, but far too short for his liking. He had discarded this part of his life as soon as he could, joining Jujutsu Tech without a second of hesitation, and continued to run the operations of his clan as an adult, behind the scenes.
But it seems he was too lax.
It had been a few weeks since the incident. You were asleep for a good day in and out while Shoko worked on you. She came out of your room, pulling off the surgical cap off her head, and Satoru got to his feet, as Shoko removed her gloves and mask, “She’s fine, Satoru,” and he sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“How bad was it?” he asks, and she tilts her head, hands slipping into her pockets.
“Are you asking that to know how badly she was injured or so you can do worse to whoever did this?” Satoru shrugs, lips parting and she holds up a hand, “never mind, the less I know, the better,” she grabs your file and opens it, “most of her injuries related to cursed technique burn out — it seems whoever took her used curse spirits to attack her, she mentioned when she was conscious briefly that they didn’t control the curses, but they seemed to be able to work with them somehow,”
“More intelligent curses have been appearing since Yuji became Sukuna’s vessel,” Satoru murmured, but this wasn’t related to the asparagus special grade or volcano head. It was separate — it was personal.
“But all of this to take a first grade sorcerer, why?” and he shakes his head.
“It wasn’t for her — it was for me,” and that’s why they hadn’t killed you, “is she awake?”
Shoko sighed, “She should be waking up in a bit. She didn’t need much aside from some RCT treatment and stitches for the wounds she sustained,” she places a hand on his shoulder, “go see her, and try not to murder anyone until she wakes up,” she turns to leave, heels clicking.
“Wait,” Satoru stops her, and she pauses, “I need a favor.”
~~~
Satoru never liked hospitals. He hadn’t spent much time in them for actual injuries, because of his abilities. However, he spent far too much time inside medical facilities for the Gojo clan’s required medical check-ups. It was to ensure the future head’s health, he was told, but really, it was an excuse to make sure their cash cow would still give them milk.
Because that’s all he ever was — a pawn.
But he had long shed that role, tossed it from the board, when he had left for Jujutsu Tech. But even so, he lingered outside your room, some things still stuck. Especially when he had new memories — of seeing his comrades dead bodies laid on cold metal slabs.
And would you have been another if he hadn’t made it in time?
Satoru shakes his head of his thoughts, and opens the door. You were still asleep. Tucked into the hospital bed, you looked so small somehow, fragile — two things he never saw you as. How could he have? When you were the one on his first day to greet him and then slap him when he had something pretentious or childish (neither of you remembered but you had insisted it was one or the other).
And he had never let you go after that. But now…he couldn’t even hold you.
The sharp beeps of the machine monitoring your vitals, connected by the tubes and wires that ran all over your body. He reaches for his blindfold so he can look at you, really look at you, but he can’t. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, nails digging into the soft of his palms,
But you were alive. You were alive. You were alive.
That’s what he had to tell himself as he drew closer to your side — no matter how you looked now, you were okay. And that’s what was most important.
“Are you going to brood by my bedside all day?” his gaze snaps to you, your eyes fluttering open still, still drooping and exhausted, but a soft smile on your lips, “Because hospitals are depressing enough, Toru,”
He chuckles, forcing his tears back and his voice to be event, “Sorry, sweetheart, I forgot to pull out the stops for you this time,” and his fingers find yours, lacing as they always did, but they felt so cold, “next time I’ll bring confetti, balloons, streamers, and I’ll serenade you even—”
You snort, “You may be the best at everything, but I know you’ll sing offkey on purpose just to piss off Shoko or anyone else that visits me,” and he laughs shakily, a sigh stuck in his throat.
He presses his forehead to yours, “I love you, so much, y’know that, yeah?”
“I love you too, so much, Toru,” you cup his cheeks, turning your head to press your lips to his hand, “thank you for saving me,”
“You saved yourself, I just cleaned up a little,” his lips find yours in a soft kiss, and your brow furrowed, “what? Are my kissing skills that bad?”
You roll your eyes, “No, but are you okay?” and he scoffs softly, shaking his head.
“You’re the one who got kidnapped and hurt, and you’re asking me if I’m—”
“Satoru, you asked me if you should murder that guy,” you tilted your head, “I know you’re not against killing if it’s necessary or deserved, but the way you said it, I got worried,”
“I’m fine, I just—” he cut off, “I just need to figure out who did this,” you squeeze his hand, “I have to,”
“Satoru—“
“I know you’re okay, but you don’t know how afraid I was that you wouldn’t be—“ he cuts off, “and it’s not just that,” his fingers curl around yours tighter, “it’s not just us we’ll have to worry about in the future. We’re already a family, but what will happen if someone targets you and our future kids?” He takes a shaky breath at the thought,
“I have to make an example.”
Your gaze grows sad, pressing a kiss to his lips, if only to ground him for a moment, “I know,” but you frown all the same, “but promise me, you won’t do anything stupid, ok?”
But he was far from stupid — but the people before him were as close as anyone could get.
“You all are aware of my wife’s attack a few weeks ago,” he said in measured words, swallowing the lump in his throat, “I’m here to tell you that she has succumbed to her wounds,” his voice wavered, breaking, “she’s gone,”
There were whispers and murmurs that swept over the room, all were silenced by the lift of a hand — one of the Gojo Clan elders, the geezer leader as he liked to call him.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Satoru,” he said, lips twisted in a fake frown, “we heard that your beloved wife passed from her injuries a week ago,”
“And yet, I see you’ve brought someone for me to meet,” his eyes slide to the woman dressed for a wedding rather than a meeting, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
The woman’s painted lips kept in a neutral expression, her body so rigid he could have mistaken her as a statue if not for his six eyes, and her eyes refused to meet his.
“Satoru, I understand you are mourning, but we have to think of the future of the Gojo clan, and our future place in the Jujutsu world is only as secure as the next heir—“
“And so you thought to disrespect my wife by trying to marry your choice?” but their brows furrow as he begins to laugh, one that sends shivers down their backs.
The elders all gape at him, sharing looks, before turning back to him as his laughter finally settles into a quiet chuckle, “Satoru, what is this?”
“It’s funny that you ever thought I’d fall for this bullshit,” he pulls off his sunglasses, cerulean eyes gleaming in the low light, “did you know my wife was never supposed to be sent on this mission? Or rather, there were no reports of cursed spirits in the area, but yet, orders came for her to report to where she was,”
A hush falls over the group, “And why are you telling us this?”
“Because I think you all have forgotten your place,” in a blink, he’s grasping the neck of the elder, the very same man who had taken him away from his parents at the age of two to ensure his training was done properly, “I am the strongest, not the Gojo clan. I’m the only Gojo needed for the clan to be prosperous,”
“You insolent child—“ Satoru squeezes around his neck, gasps and whimpers clawing their way out from his grip, veins bulging as he tried and failed to pull Satoru’s hands off. He had even let the old man penetrate his infinity and all he had managed was a scratch or two.
“You should be careful when you’re talking to the ‘child’ who has your life in his hands,” and he grows silent, “now, to get back to the point, where did those orders come from?”
A quiet washed over the room, the only sounds were the shaky gasps of the elder in his hand, “W-what are—“
“I had a chat with the higher ups — those rotten old geezers may not like me, but I know they like all their limbs intact,” he drops the elder and twists his arm behind his back, wrenching back until he heard a cracking noise, “and they told me the orders came from the Gojo clan, and I wondered why would my own clan send the wife of the head off to be executed,”
“Satoru—“ one of the elders spoke, and he tilted his head.
“If you want him to die, your excuses will only make this go faster,” and his mouth shuts, “I’ll take your silence as a confirmation that all of you had a hand in this,” he sighs, removing his sunglasses, running his fingers through his hair, “man, I’ve had conspiracies against me, but I never guessed you’d target the one person I value above everything else. But I knew you would fail her little test,”
He’s met with furrowed brows and gritted teeth, the elder looking up at him in fear, “W-what?”
“You see if I had it my way, I would have killed you all, no questions asked,” his fingers close over the top of his head, wrenching him backwards to meet his gaze, “But my wife, my very much alive wife,” he adds, with a glance to the woman looking increasingly faint with each second that passes, “she would want me to see if you’d come clean about the plan and whether some of you were innocent,” his lips curl, “but she doesn’t know the bloody history of the Gojo clan like we do,” and his fingers dig into the flesh of the elder, “so what’s a few more bloodstains?”
He tears off his head, screams ringing out as a rush of scarlet paints the walls, splattering across the other elders. The woman offered to be his wife rings over the others, her shrill shriek piercing their eardrums. It’s a dull thud as the lifeless corpse falls to the floor, as Satoru wiped the blood from his cheek, a cock of his head and eyes flashing with anger.
“You can’t do this! You—“ Satoru’s fist connects with his face, blood flooding his features.
“I can, because I’ve decided the Gojo clan needs to get rid of the tumors that infect it, and besides,” his body crumples to the floor as his foot slams into their stomach, a sick, wet noise that draws gasps and open mouthed silent screams from the others, “what are you going to do about it?”
“Please, please, she’s alive—” one of them begged, all of them falling to their knees, wrinkled faces contorted in fear, blown out eyes and faces wet with tears only making them more ugly than he thought was possible — he really couldn’t end up like these geezers, “we only wanted what was best—we wanted the next head of the clan to be even more powerful than you are—”
He laughs, not an ounce of mirth or levity, shivers running down the spines of the others who watched, as he stepped over the body of the elder, lips twisted into a wide grin, “And there’s your mistake,”
He loomed over the one who spoke, shadow cast over him, as his fingers curled around his arm, before breaking it off, spurts of blood splattering on his clothes, mixing with the other — some of it flecked across his face.
Satoru wiped his face with his forearm, tilting his head. He knew they were begging and pleading — lips moving, words forming, but it all fell on deaf ears. After all they had never bothered to listen to any sorcerer before, did they? Suguru’s face came to mind — flashes of the spring he would never get back — so why should he listen to theirs?
“You were too busy worrying about the next head, when you should’ve been worried about the current one.”
~~~~
You were asleep.
Moonlight gave way to your features in the pitch black room, your soft breaths warming his fingers that ran over your cheek. Shoko had discharged you yesterday, and he had brought you home — but even now with you home, he couldn’t sleep. It felt as if you’d disappear the moment he took his eyes off you, slipping from his grasp just as you almost did.
But you didn’t. You’re here.
It was the same words you had whispered to him every night when he had curled up beside you, “I’m not going anywhere, I’m here, aren’t I?”
But you could disappear.
You could if he wasn’t there with you — if he wasn’t fast enough. Because he couldn’t be everywhere at once, not even the strongest could accomplish that. But he wanted to keep you safe all the same. Would it be selfish to lock you up? Hide you away somewhere others could never find you? Keep you hidden if only to keep you safe.
But you never would be safe, not while you were with him.
“Toru?” Your voice breaks him from his thoughts, eyes fluttering open to meet his as your fingers reach for his cheek, “is that blood?”
And he’s pinned your hands in a blink of an eye, quickly and quietly, “it’s not mine,” his gaze glows in the dark, catching the moonlight streaming in, and he’s leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Toru, what happened?” And he kisses along your cheekbones, your jaw, your nose, your chin, “Satoru—“
“I killed them,” his fingers trace the folds of the satin robe he had helped you into, brushing against the bandages that hid your wounds from his sight, but he could see them all the same, “the people who did this,”
Your brow furrows, “Toru, what do you mean the people who—“
“Why do you stay with me?” He leans down to find your lips in a bruising kiss, lips sliding against yours as his fingers undo the knot of your robe, letting the fabric fall away from your bare body.
“What—“ his lips part from yours, strings of spit connecting your mouths.
“Why do you stay with me when I’m a monster?” and your eyes soften.
“You’re not—“ and he’s cutting you off with another kiss, as your hands struggle under his grip, the other grazing down your side, finding the swell of your hip only to squeeze.
“I’m the perfect weapon,” he kisses down the side of your neck, teeth grazing against your soft flesh harshly, drawing a gasp from your lips, “I could have killed them all, because I know they all knew—“
“Knew what?”
“My clan elders — they wanted to have you die on a mission, they wanted to stage it, so they could have me marry who they wanted,” he pauses, drawing a finger down the valley of your breasts, “create a perfect heir,”
“Satoru—“
He kisses you again, swallowing your words along with your thoughts, parting only to speak, “so I killed them, I didn’t use my cursed technique, I wanted them to feel the pain they gave you, wanted them to feel a fraction of what you did,”
You can’t find a second to speak, his fingers now sliding up your bare leg, as he presses himself closer, erection against your inner thigh, “Toru, you didn’t have to put yourself through that—“
“I wanted to,” he parts your thighs easily, large palm spread against your inner thigh, fingers toying with the edge of your panties, “wanted to tear them to shreds for what they did to you — and what they wanted to do—”
“I’m okay, Satoru, I’m—” a bitter laugh leaves his throat, as his fingers find your bandages again.
“Do you call coming home half dead okay now by jujutsu sorcerer standards?” he shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair, “I told you after Suguru that I would fix this rotten jujutsu world,” he presses kisses up your thigh, “and their deaths did fix one thing — no sorcerer will touch you or our future children again, especially when they speak to the woman the clan wanted to marry off to when your body wasn’t even cold yet,”
“You left her,” and he nods, eyes unable to meet yours.
“I only killed the elders I gathered, anyone else was spared — they didn’t dig their own graves,” his hand loosens around your wrists and you reach for his cheek, cupping his cheek, despite the blood, “I don’t regret it, I’d kill anyone who hurts you, but I didn’t want you to see me like this,”
“Like what?”
“Like a monster,” and you click your tongue, his eyes flitting to yours.
“You’re my Satoru, not a monster, you did what you did to protect me, protect our family,” you murmur, “that’s just about the most Satoru thing you could do,”
“But—“
“And if you are deemed a monster anyway?” You lean up, fingers smearing the blood against your own cheek, “then I’ll just become a monster with you,”
He crashes into you with a kiss, cupping your cheeks, as his tongue slips into your mouth, “can you really be a monster, sweetheart?”
He drags his lips down your neck, his teeth grazing your soft flesh along the hollow of your throat, “T-Toru—“ and his lips find the swell of your breasts, his tongue dragging over your pert nipple, while his fingers hook into the elastic of your panties, snapping it against your skin, “y’know I can be, I would be, for you,”
He peers up through half lidded eyelids, his thumb drags down your puffy bottom lip, “I can’t imagine someone so sweet like you as one,” he murmurs, as he pulls back, lips slick with spit, as he drags his fingers toying with the soaked fabric of your panties, “and I wouldn’t want to drag you down with me,”
Your fingers reach forward, propping yourself up on your other arm, “Drag me or not,” you cup his chin, “you’re stuck with me,”
“Can we make it a binding vow?” you roll your eyes, and his lips curl for the first time since he’s got here, “c’mon sweets, I have to get my reassurance somehow,”
You hold up the giant rock on your finger, the very diamond you had told Satoru was too much, “this wasn’t enough—” the last word is a bite back gasp, as he noses at the drenched crotch of your underwear, a deep inhale that has you squirming, “No, Toru—” but he’s pinned your thighs down, prying them open, as he gazes up at you.
“Uh-uh, princess, I don’t remember saying you could move, especially when you could reopen your wounds,” his nose bumps against your clothed clit, a wicked smile as he drags his tongue over the already wet fabric, “you still haven’t seen how much of a monster I can be.”
~~~
“Ngh, Toru, can’t, I can’t—” but you can — you know you can from the heat building in your sloppy cunt under already soaked through sheets, and he knows too well you can too, from the way your pussy flutters around his three fingers, knuckle deep as they piston in and out, while his mouth toys with your abused clit, “please—”
You lost track of how many times you had orgasmed — his fingers, his mouth, and sometimes both — he had pulled each one after the other, allowing small reprieves, only to bury himself back in. He had even had you ride his face at one point, and you were sure he’d suffocate under your drenched cunt, until he flipped you on your back again.
“Please what, sweets?” he slows his fingers, curling them a certain way that makes your lips fall open, “you’ll have to use your words,” he pulls back.
Chest heaving, chin glistening with your release, his tongue cleaned his lips off before he wiped the rest off, before pressing open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs. And soon enough, his fingers were sinking back into your messy pussy, splitting you open with his thick fingers.
“Didn’t you say you wanted this, sweetheart?” his words cut through the wet squelch of his digits fucking you open, “wanted to drag you down with you, wanted this—” and he sucks hard at your clit, tongue flicking over it, making your back arch, “wanted me to drag you down with me,” and he punctuates it with a thrust of his fingers, brushing against a spot that has you seeing spots, “gotta make good on your promise, and I have to erase all the pain they gave you,”
And you barely manage to latch onto the desperation in his voice, the way the facade flickers.
He fucks you ever so slightly deeper, and you cum hard, tearing through you as your body tenses, pleasure washing over you as it did every single other time, melding into the others, “Good girl,” he murmurs, as he works his fingers through your orgasm, the slick noises becoming white noise, until he finally pulls the digits from inside you.
Your eyes flutter open to the sight of him licking his digits clean one by one of your cum, his lips curled in a soft smile as they meet your gaze, his hand sliding up your thigh gently as it quaked, the very same fingers he had used to murder the people that hurt you, were so gentle when it was you — he was always so gentle when it was you.
But never himself.
You reach up for him, palm cupping his cheek, while the other finds his bare shoulder — clothes long discarded, “I love you,” and the cracks spread, spider webbing from the epicenter, “you know that right?”
His words seem caught in the back of his throat, “Even now?”
“Especially now,” and he’s pressing you against the mattress again, your thighs folded against your chest, legs slung over his shoulders, “you saved me,”
His gaze softened, “you saved me first,” and again and again, he couldn’t count the number of times you did, by just existing, pressing a kiss to the side of your thigh, “but if I’m too late next time?”
“You can’t be everywhere,” your fingers lace with his, “and I just need you,” and still in this situation, his ego can inflate at your praise — nosing at your thigh, a deep inhale, before dragging his tongue up the side of your leg, “only you.”
He drags his weeping erection over your soaked folds, leaking tip teasing your slit while he watched his pre mix with yours, “Think you need more than just me,” and when he lets the tip sink into you, your lips part with his name, just as your walls part for him, “want something else, wifey?”
“You’re the worst,” you look up at him, lips curling despite your pout, your fingers grasping at the sheets under you, as your cunt tries to swallow him whole, “Toru, how long are you going to tease me for?”
And he’s pulling out only to draw a groan from your lips, “If you’re such a monster, thought you could take it—“ and your hand reaches for him, tugging him close by his neck.
“I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me right now—“
He grins, “If you insist,”
Fuck.
He sinks into you all at once, all too fast and all too slow, balls deep as he bottoms out inside you, your walls fluttering only to pull him deeper, “fuck,” your head falls back as his tip brushes against your cervix, “too fucking big, I swear if you rip my stitches open—”
“You don’t think I cleared this before I decided to do this, baby?” He grunts, glancing down to see how your messy hole stretched open as he sunk into you, “can’t believe anyone thought I’d fuck anyone but you — you’re the only one for me, sweetheart,”
You couldn’t help but notice his eyes flicker to your pussy stuffed full with his huge dick, “You talking to me or my cunt—“ and he begins to fuck you, remark undercut by the moan that he pulled from your lips, “f-fucker—“
“That’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t it sweetheart?” the lewd sounds of skin slapping together filled the room, his soft grunts and your moans, “wanted me to fuck you open, yeah?” and he wanted this, needed this after this week — it had been too long since he felt you under him like this — real and alive, his name leaving your swollen, kiss bitten lips.
And you needed it just the same — needed his fingers to dig into the softness of your thighs, needed the way only he could fill every inch of you, needed the soft murmurs of how good you felt, how much he loved you.
“Fuck, Toru, so fast,” you whine, but how could slow down he when you felt so good — so wet and warm, you had joked he could cum just looking at you alone barely a fist around his dick, but it was true — and being inside you just made him unravel completely, all sense of himself lost and drowning in just you, “hngh, it’s so deep,” you babble, tears burning at the corners of your eyes.
“That’s right, sweetheart, gonna fuck you deep, gotta make sure you feel it don’t I?” he coos, and his hand snakes between your thighs, pressing his palm to the bulge in your stomach, making you gasp as your walls clench around him, drawing a grunt from his lips, “that’s it, good girl,”
You keen at his praise, the wet squelch of your cunt around his cock ringing in your ears, balls slapping against your pussy with a rhythm that echoes in your head, as your body arches into him, needing him deeper, harder, faster. He’s nearly rutting into you, his thrusts growing shallow as you clamp down on him, achingly close.
“Those old fucking geezers don’t know what they were talking about—“ he grunts, running his mouth all the same even as he sunk impossibly fucking deeper, “don’t know this is the only cunt I’d ever breed. The only one I’d ever breed. The only one I can. Know why?” And you only can whimper, as his fingers rub against your clit, “because this is the only one made for my cum,”
And his words push you over the edge, cumming hard and fast, head lolling back, as his tip bullies your womb, as he fucks you hard over and over through your orgasm, sending pleasure ripping up your spine. Satoru groans as he feels you spasm, soaking in him in your juices, as he watches a white ring of your cum form around the base of his dick, dripping onto the clean sheets with the evidence of your arousal.
He can’t hold back.
He rails into you, a moan of your name falling past your lips making you pull him close, shifting your legs around his back just so he can sink into you even a centimeter deeper—
“Fuck, g’nna cum,” he’s meeting your glazed over eyes, knowing “gonna fill you up, yeah? Get you nice and round with my baby,” he groans at the thought, the image of you carrying his kid, stomach swollen as you grow his child, “and they’ll know, all of them, that you’re the only one I’d cum in,” and he’s so close, dick twitching as your arms around his neck tug him close.
“Cum in me, Toru, give me our baby,” and that’s it, he’s spilling inside you, spurting his hot release inside, again and again, as he fucks it deeper, filling you up.
“That’s it, take every drop,” he’s relentless, until he finally eases from you, his release trickling out. A soft sigh parts your lips that grows into a sharp gasp as he’s already flipping you over onto your stomach.
“Toru—” you whine.
“Aw did you think we were done sweetheart?” a pillow cushions your still bandaged stomach, placed underneath to support you, a shudder down your body as he rubs his cock against you, as he leans down, hot words murmured against your ear with a grin, before he sinks back into you with one thrust, stuffing his spilling cum back inside, “One thing about monsters are that we also have monstrous stamina.”
~~~
It was early, but Satoru was already awake.
He always had trouble sleeping, but now? His eyes found your sleeping form beside him, under the covers and safe, just as he had left you that morning. He didn’t know if he’d ever sleep more than three hours now. He brushed the back of his knuckles over your cheek, but you needed sleep — one of three things you never could live without (food and himself being the other two). And you definitely needed it now, after he had kept you up — nearly all night.
You shifted in your sleep, revealing several blooming hickies and love bites he had littered your body with, lips curling at the sight, as he pulled the blanket back up around you.
He was selfish — he should have divorced you the moment he had gotten you back. Let you leave because it was the right thing to do — to let you live a life safe without him. But he couldn’t — because he couldn’t imagine waking another morning, spending another day without knowing where you were, how you were doing.
It was selfish. But you let him be — especially when it came to you.
And his phone vibrates on the nightstand, whirring again and again, as he picks it up with a sigh, Yaga’s name flashing on the display. He takes one last glance at you before slipping from bed, stepping into the living room.
“Sensei! To what—“ he hardly gets a word out before screams fill his ears. He rubs his chin, it was too early for this.
He makes out the words — Gojo clan, dead, scandal, murder (wasn’t sure if he meant if he was going to murder Gojo or he meant what happened to the elders).
“It was a clan dispute, there was no need to tell you,”
Satoru held the phone away from his ear, Yaga’s yelling told him everything he needed to know, “Yeah, yeah, I know, the higher ups know — or they probably do by now,” he almost chuckles at the thought, and how he would love to do the same to them — knuckles white as he grips his phone — love to make them feel the same pain the sorcerers cared nothing for felt, make them—
Arms curl around him from behind and he knows it’s you, his body relaxing into your touch with practiced ease, your face buried in his back. His fingers relax, finding yours, tracing over the back, as he lifts one hand to his lips.
—But it wasn’t the time for that.
“Fine, fine, no need to have a heart attack, old man — I’ll talk to them tomorrow,” Yaga was still speaking until Satoru hung up, turning to face yoy, your eyes half closed as his fingers found your cheek, “what are you doing awake, sweets?”
His lips curl as you lean into his touch, “you weren’t next to me when I woke up,” you murmur, nose brushing against his fingers as your eyes flutter open and closed, “how am I supposed to sleep when my pretty husband isn’t next to me?”
“Just pretty?” and you snort, as his arm sneaks around your waist, pulling you to his chest, your head right over his heart, a content sigh on your lips.
“Are you ever serious?”
“Always,” and you smile up at him, chin resting against him, “what is it? Do I got something on my face?”
“You think our baby will have your pretty face?” You hum, and his gaze softens at the thought, “I hope so,”
He grins, “You do huh? And here I thought my ego didn’t need more stroking,”
“It doesn’t, but my husband deserves every bit of praise he gets — because he doesn’t get enough,” you kiss him softly, nose bumping against his.
“You planning on showering me with your praise, sweetheart?” And your lips finds his again.
“Always,” and he’s leading you back towards the bedroom, “where are you—“ you squeal as he scoops you up into his arms and carries you back to bed, gently placing you down, a grin on his lips.
He drags his thumb down your kiss ruined lips, “Do you think I’m gonna let you leave this bed without breeding you right?” He clicks his tongue, “I’m far from done with you, wifey,”
You’re so beautiful, hair spread on the pillow like a halo, “So we’re not leaving until I’m pregnant?” Your fingers brush against his cheek, “we might be here a while,”
Satoru wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
He kisses you again, long and languid, “There’s nothing I want more than to stay in bed with you.”
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✧ a/n: sorry i've been gone for a bit!! i got super busy with work and got hella writer's block and right when i was feeling ready to write-- i got sick. but i'm doing much better now!!
✧ taglist: @arrivedercis, @ssetsuka, @ch3rryistheg, @satorusmochis, @sunarins-bae, @blindbabycadder , @yihona-san06 , @dantaku , @archieballs , @ceruleansol , @mqcht , @xxemmarldxx , @chiyokoemilia , @theshylittleelfgirl , @rroseselavyyy , @out4thenight , @jatyes , @unreliablefangs , @sleazymac-n-cheesy , @celestialseasart , @minsified , @akemfs , @ranatherealestsigma , @zherryxtar , @virtualangelllllll , @itsmebien , @difluenza , @rougebrainsludge , @mochigod , @euphorism , @vii-is-free , @elliesndg , @beneaththelamina , @monarch-of-anime-simping , @hhimetsu , @simply-a-s1mp , @jennieclips , @svt-backup , @angelbunsx , @duhhitsmiranda , @satowooo , @fushitoru , @lesaurita , @briluvslee , @gojo-gets-me-wetter , @catsgomurp , @pinkyvomit , @hyori2 , @wakashudou , @celestialgojo , @sxnkuna, @nakariabnrb, @dazailover1900, @hanlay, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @kxouri, @forest-fruits-jam, @spider-fan72, @strawmariee
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rafeandonlyrafe · 7 months ago
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sleepover
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words: 700
warnings: 18+ only, smut, handjob, mentions of blowjobs, best friends brother
“am not.” you complain as rafe tells you you’re too little for what feels like the hundredth time.
“yes you are baby.” he coos out, laughing as you pout.
“you’re like barely older than me.” you argue, grinding your hips down.
“three whole years.” rafe reminds you. the same age difference between him and sarah, afterall, you were her friend first.
“but im not a kid!” your eyes flutter closed as you bounce your body up and down, hoping your movements are enough to entice rafe.
“maybe you need to get your behavior in check before i fuck you.” rafe strokes his cock slowly as you’re sitting on his lap, one of his fingers buried inside of you.
“so im not too little?” you question, gripping rafes thighs as you lean back, body moving in waves as you feel his finger push into you.
“eh.” rafe shrugs. he doesn’t have a good reason why he won’t fuck you yet, why he teases you by making you ride his thigh or suck him off. he likes seeing you impatient and needy, teasing you until you both finally break and rafe fucks you.
“you’re so mean.” you pout, eyes opening to watch rafes hand glide up and down his cock.
you pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you reach forward, swiping your thumb over the head of his cock before grasping it and adding to rafe strokes.
“not gonna get me to fuck you.” rafe smirks, laughing slightly when you wiggle your body as a complaint, clenching your pussy around his finger in an attempt to entice him.
“at least add a second, please.” you wanna prove to rafe that you can take it, that you’re able to fit his cock inside of you.
“whats the point of opening you up when im not gonna be inside of you?” rafe questions, dropping his hand away so you can continue stroking his cock.
“raaafe.” you whine. he laughs at you, but adds a second finger inside your cunt, making you moan as you really do feel the stretch, his fingers pushing against your walls as you grind against him.
“make me cum and i’ll touch your clit too, baby.” rafe huffs out. you sit forward, letting out a gasp when rafes fingers curl inside of you, but you don’t let the rush of pleasure distract you from gripping his cock with both hands, working him up and down near frantically.
rafe wishes his digits weren’t currently thrusting into your cunt so you could bend down and take him in your mouth, but he’ll settle for cumming all over your tits and stomach.
“almost there.” he grunts out, chest heaving up and down as you begin to moan with every push forward of his fingers, your hands tightening on his cock as it swells, and then suddenly rafe is cumming, painting your torso as he groans out.
before his orgasm is even finished, his hand turns so his thumb can rub against your clit, not bothering to be gentle as he rubs harshly against your bud.
“i- shit.” you curse, hands falling away from rafes cock the second it stops pulsing as you lean forward, gripping rafes shoulders.
“cum for me, pretty.” he coos out. “don’t you think sarah is getting suspicious of where you disappeared to?”
you let out a moan at the mention of sarah, hoping she hears and you get caught, wanting to quit hiding what you have with rafe. 
“yeah.” you nod. “yeah-i-im close.” 
rafe is unforgiving with his fingers, pushing them so deep inside of you that your orgasm is suddenly ripping through your body as you cum with a loud shout of his name, slumping forward against his bare chest.
“shh, thats it. i got you.” rafe rubs your clit gently through your high until you’re whining and oversensitive, thighs clenching closed.
“you’re gonna fuck me next time, right rafe?” you question.
“when is your next sleepover with sarah?” he questions, as if you don’t spend every weekend at tanneyhill.
“friday.”
“perfect.” rafe helps you sit up, pressing a kiss to your lips. “sneak out and come to my room.”
“you’re gonna fuck me?” you sit up straighter, excitement evident in your voice.
“no, but you can suck my cock.” rafe chuckles while you let out a frustrated groan.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut
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sttoru · 1 year ago
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A WELCOMED INTERRUPTION !
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ෆ sypnosis. shiu kong catches toji and you in the living room. toji decides to invite shiu into the fun and he agrees after some deep thinking.
ෆ note. this is a part two to this post ! make sure to read that one first. &&i’m happy u all enjoyed the first part ehhh.. i tried my best w this one too, enjoy. also not entirely proof read so excuse the possible mistakes. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk !
ෆ tags. dom!toji (+shiu) x female reader. three some, blowjob, breast play, objectification, degradation, name calling (whore, slut), cum play, free use, dacryphilia, creampies, male masturbation, voyeurism-ish, multiple orgasms, spanking, hair pulling, overstimulation, doggy style, breeding mention. toji’s mean, shiu a bit less.
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“fine, but we have ten minutes.”
shiu kong crosses the room in a couple strides, hands skilfully removing piece after piece of his clothing until he was left in nothing. you couldn’t quite figure out the unreadable expression on shiu’s face once he came close enough to toji and you on the leather couch.
it was impossible to do so through your tears. plus, due to the man on top of your body guiding your head back to look him in the eyes.
“just because he’s joining doesn’t mean y’re allowed to take those eyes off of me.” if toji wasn’t just a fling, you could’ve sworn that those words were said out of jealousy or possessiveness. even if he was the one who suggested the threesome in the first place.
toji hisses and grunts as he pulls all the way out of you before slamming back in twice as hard. your screams of pleasure were like music to his ear. and not only to toji’s ears; shiu was having a hard time holding his usual calm self together every time he hears your sensual moans.
“shit..” shiu curses under his breath, his demeanour slowly falling apart because of the sight in front of him. but, also because he secretly desires to be the one getting those reactions out of your mouth, “she’s quite noisy, eh?”
toji laughs a bit; a mean (almost condescending) laugh, “yeah— maybe we can see which one of us can make her even noiser, whadd’ya think?”
“..or ya can just make her shut up by stuffing that mouth full. your choice.”
your hands were trembling as they try to hold onto any solid object you could spot out of your peripheral vision. your tears withheld you from seeing toji’s agent masturbating; shiu’s rough hand was swiftly gliding up and down on his cock—coating it with his own pre-cum. if it wasn’t for his desire to dump his cum in any of your holes, he’d have released it all over his own hand already.
“i think i’ll put that mouth of hers to use.” shiu had lost the internal battle of keeping himself together as he walked closer to you, standing near your head and gently tapping the tip of his cock on your plump lips, “you know, toji’s told me you’re good at sucking men off and i’ve always wanted to test that claim myself.”
your eyes slightly widen in response, unable to comprehend anything in this situation you got yourself in. neither toji nor shiu cared about that; they just cared about the pleasure you were going to be giving them.
“c’mon,” toji grins and pulls out of you completely, looking down at his throbbing cock which was covered in your fluids before flipping you around on your stomach, “y’re gonna be a good little slut and suck that man off, yeah?”
shiu takes notice of toji’s action and immediately gets into position like the two have done this many times before with other women. the agent takes a seat in front of you, legs spread to give you a nice view of what he was packing between them. shiu’s back was resting against the armrest as his eyes were scanning your face from up close, “what a pretty girl.”
your mouth was watering more than it did previously, drops of saliva running down your chin as you stared at shiu’s cock in front of you. a harsh slap to your ass makes you squeal lightly and your pussy clench onto nothingness.
“i said something, didn’t i?” toji clicks his tongue while he checks out your ass in his position behind you, “get to work.”
your hands found their way to shiu’s thighs and they slid up until they were wrapped around the base of his cock. an almost unnoticeable grunt left shiu’s lips once he felt that jolt of pleasure run through his body from your simple touch. he had waited so long for this.
“fuck— take me in your mouth.” the older man breathlessly orders. you swallow the built-up saliva in the back of your throat and stick your tongue out to lick the tip of shiu’s dick— testing the waters first. as expected, shiu was easy to please since the man was already moaning and breathing heavy when you hadn’t even started yet.
toji looks down at the two and sees how you tease shiu by using your tongue. shiu was trembling a little, biting his bottom lip while one of his hands was tangled in your hair. the agent was trying very hard not to reach his climax already. not when he hasn’t felt your mouth around his cock at least once.
a smirk forms on toji’s lips as he sees the desperation and lust written all over shiu’s face. toji knew that you were good at giving blow jobs; the little teasing you did beforehand—where you’d hold eye contact with him while licking his length in small intervals—added to the entire experience.
“seems like you haven’t had any action in a while, huh?” toji grins while pumping his cock at the sight of you finally starting to suck shiu off. his hand moved in slow strokes, the other placed on your ass, prepared to slap it if you were caught slacking off.
“shut up, toji— shit!” shiu gasps and throws his head back once your mouth engulfs the fat tip of his dick. the warmth and wetness around his throbbing cock was driving him mad, “if i wasn’t too busy cleaning after your mess, i’d have a woman in my bedroom every day of the week.”
you held eye contact with shiu as he makes small talk with toji whom you couldn’t even see. you start bobbing your head in repeated up and down motions, his cock going in and out of your warm mouth, leaving it completely covered with your saliva in no time.
“fuckkk— she’s good.” shiu groans while his hand tugged at your hair, pressing down on your head to hit the back of your throat—the tip of your nose just a centimetre away from his lower abdomen, “way better than expected.”
that gains a small proud chuckle from toji. the assassin was starting to move, lining up his still hard cock against your entrance, “told ya. she sucks cock like a real fuckin’ slut—always knows what to do.”
shiu fully believes those uttered words as he sees you desperately suck him off, hands playing with his balls and sometimes stroking the rest of his length which you couldn’t fit in your mouth. your tears and drool were dripping down between his legs.
a muffled moan vibrates against shiu’s dick the moment you felt toji bully his way into your cunt again. this causes shiu to thrust his hips forward, making you almost choke at the unexpected movement.
“mhh, that’s hot.” shiu breaths out while holding onto your hair with both hands now, ready to repeat his actions since it added to his own pleasure, “do it again, come on—yeahhh— good girl.”
as you choke and slobber all over shiu’s length, toji starts to roughly pump back and forth, hands on your hips to keep your lower body up to meet his— “your cunt is so fuckin’ tight compared to before—fuck— bet it’s ‘cause you’re a slut who enjoys getting both her holes filled at the same time.”
toji smacks your ass a couple of times as his cock penetrates your cunt to its deepest point, “maybe we can fill a third one soon, don’cha think?”
yes, he was implying what you were thinking; anal sex. the nasty thought made you whimper and squirm under toji while continuing to move shiu’s cock in and out of your wet mouth in rapid strokes. shiu reacts to this by bucking his hips up again and again, moaning and grunting loudly, as was toji.
shiu looked down at you through his half closed eyes, enjoying the way you look with your mouth stuffed full of his cock. especially because you were crying as well; it made you look pathetic and helpless yet so attractive.
“fuck— with the way you’re sucking me off, i’m going to cum soon,” shiu says between shallow breaths, seeing your body powerlessly shift back and forth due to toji’s intense thrusts, “mhm— better swallow it all, okay?”
you let out a long, strangled moan. it wasn’t clear whether it was due to toji pounding you or shiu asking you that lewd favour. either way, shiu bucked his hips up one last time, hands clenching around your hair to push your head down all the way to the base of his cock before spurting his hot cum right down your throat—the taste bitter on your tongue.
“swallow,” the older man in front of you reminds you with a hoarse voice, keeping his dick between your lips to make sure you do as told before gradually taking it out with a hiss.
shiu taps the tip on your mouth a little to get the last drops of semen on your lips for you to lick off. toji’s agent started to lazily stroke his dick again, trying to make it hard so he could fuck you as well.
“mhh, want to cum in your pussy. maybe even breed you, huh?” shiu murmurs. his words were solely meant to fuel his desires and get his cock hard again, yet the thought could easily be made a reality.
toji groans as he hears his agent’s dirty talk about breeding you. this causes him to reach out and grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back while he angled his hips in a way to hit your cervix repeatedly.
“fuck, i might even let him do that to ya—let him dump his load into your pussy along with mine.” toji grins, feeling like his cock was swelling even more with each deep thrust, “how ‘bout we try that out?”
shiu takes the chance to watch your tits again as they come into view. his body was relaxing against the armrest of the trembling couch, one hand reaching out to cup a breast and squeeze the hardened nipple.
“ah! yes, y-yes, wan’ both of your cum inside me, please.” you plead and your back arches from all the sensations the two men were granting you in this moment. toji groans loudly at your words, feeling even more turned on than ever and he makes that known.
“yeah? fuck— y’re such a desperate, greedy whore.” toji mocks and continues to pound into your overstimulated cunt. shiu was still squeezing your breasts and flicking your nipples, going from one to the other,
“just hold on, little girl— gonna stuff you full first.” toji adds and thrusts a couple more times before you sense that familiar feeling again; toji’s cum flooding your insides until it can’t help but leak onto your thighs.
with a deep sigh, toji pulls out again to watch the white liquid overflow from your filled hole. shiu, in the meantime, was still admiring your tits and now used both hands to play with them.
you were too fucked out to see the way the two men were silently exchanging glances. toji nodded downwards at his place behind you and shiu understood: the two were changing places.
shiu let your breasts go and stood up, toji following afterwards. the assassin and his agent slowly swapped positions and stroked their cocks at the sight of your spent body, quivering and silently sobbing from overstimulation.
“mind if i borrow her from now on, toji? just from time to time.” shiu asks with a deep hum, enjoying the sight of toji’s cum leaking out of your hole and the way it stained your skin as the sticky fluid left trails down your thighs.
toji snickers as he was getting his cock hard again by looking at your tits and head between his legs,
“nah, i don’t mind. as long as she returns to me at the end of the day.”
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charliemwrites · 11 months ago
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Good morning. Chapter 8. 😈
(Okay I was a lil wrong. Not full smut, but some spice.)
CW for violence, threats, non-con groping. Reader has a “bad” time and Simon is a bastard. Stay safe while reading!
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He doesn’t kill Brandon immediately. No, no that little sack of spare organs deserves a long, slow, thoughtful death. But he doesn’t need to be able to walk for that.
Besides, Simon has a little bunny to track down.
And when he picks up your trail, oh. Oh. You are in so much trouble.
Somehow, you managed to shimmy a window open just enough to squeeze through. Out into a goddamn blizzard. At the very least, he notices when he finds your tracks, you put some boots on.
Catching up to you is pitifully easy. Longer legs and more experience in extreme terrain like this - you’ve barely made it to the tree line before he snatches you up.
“No!” You shout. There’s something so fucking cute about it. The pitch, the indignance mixed with despair. His shoulder shake a bit as he hauls you over her shoulder. “No, Riley, put me down!”
“Name’s Simon, luv.”
“I don’t care!”
“You will.”
He carries you, kicking and squirming and shouting back towards the lodge. Only starts to lose patience when he loses his grip a bit and nearly drops you on a hard sheet of ice.
He growls, digs his fingers into your plush thigh. “If you don’t fucking behave, I will spank you raw right fucking here. With your face in the snow.”
You gasp. Pause. Then go limp, sniffling and crying as he carries you back inside. He dumps you gently in front of the fire on your stomach, pins you down with his boot in the center of your back when you instantly try to scramble away.
“Where did those good manners go, sunshine?” he teases.
“Fuck manners,” you cry, pressing your wet face into your arms.
“No, baby, see? Those good manners are why you’re still alive. So sweet, so nice.” He leans down, careful not too put too much pressure on your abdomen. “Too sweet and nice to die.”
You hitch with a quiet noise. “Why are you doing this? Another lesson?”
“Mm. Could make it another lesson, couldn’t I? But no, luv. This all just for you, because I want to.”
As if on cue, Brandon comes crawling into view whimpering and begging for you to help him. Simon, annoyed by the interruption, snaps at him to shut up.
“Speaking of what I want you to do…” He drops to his knees, straddling your ass. You jolt when you feel the unmistakable hardness pressed against it. Takes everything in him not to grind. “I want to peel this little prick’s skin of square by square.”
Both you and Brandon make frightened noises at that. Simon rolls his eyes and continues.
“I’d settle for letting him bleed out from the stomach or lighting him on fire if he apologizes though.”
“F-for what?” Brandon demands.
Simon buries his fingers in your snow-wet hair because if he doesn’t, he’s going to take this idiot apart piece by piece right in front of you. Seems like a bit much for a second date.
“To her, for being a fucking pervert.”
“I’m not the sick fuckin-“
“S-Simon, please,” you pipe up, voice quiet and wobbly. “D-don’t do this, don’t hurt him.”
He clicks his tongue. “Little late for that, eh?”
“Just… please. He’s suffered enough hasn’t he?”
He laughs. Can’t help it. You just don’t get it yet, do you?
“He touched you. He upset you.”
You swallow. “You’re upsetting me.”
“You’re mine.”
You suck in a breath and finally, finally seem to understand.
“Then…. Then just leave him be. F-for me?”
Simon sighs, but can’t help the fondness that flares in his chest. Such a smart, kind little thing.
“Tell you what, sunshine, I’ll make you a deal.”
He shuffles back a bit, captures both your little wrists with one hand. You don’t try to struggle, know better now. He could purr; such a fast learner too. He draws you up on your knees, leaning you back against his chest.
“If I win, he watches what I do to you and then dies nice and slow like he deserves,” he murmurs in your ear.
You tremble. “W-what are you gonna do to me?”
He grins wickedly, trailing cool blood-stained fingers beneath your shirt. “Nothin’ you’re not already gaggin’ for.”
You jerk a bit, that precious flame of defiance brightening. “I’m not-!”
“Then prove me wrong and take the bet.”
“W-wait what happens if I win?”
He snorts softly, nuzzles his mask into your cheek. Likes the way you shift uncomfortably.
“I’ll stop. Hell, you know what? I’ll turn myself in. Brandon gets to live and you go to therapy and I got to prison, yeah?”
You turn to him, eyes huge and mouth parted in shock. Hook, line, and fuckin’ sinker. Oh, sweet thing, you never stood a chance.
“Deal?” he asks.
You only hesitate for a beat, know that it’s off. Too good to be true.
“If you don’t take the deal, I’ll just continue with our regularly scheduled programming.”
“No!” you gasp. “I-I’ll take the deal. What… what’s the bet?”
“Well,” he purrs, tracing aimless patterns along your sensitive tummy. “Since you’re so sure that you’re not gaggin’ for my cock - you win if this pretty cunt isn’t drippin’ wet for me.”
And he sees it, the exact millisecond that you realize you’re going to lose this bet. You squeeze your eyes shut, a little sob escaping you.
Brandon makes a horrified noise on the other end of the carpet.
“You can’t be fucking serious?! You’re fucking-”
That’s quite enough of that. Simon can’t have you feeling ashamed of something that’s only natural.
“You say another fucking syllable and you’ll be eating your own eyeball.”
Your stomach hitches with disgust. He shushes and coos to you, “I know, I know. Gross nasty, hm? But I can’t have him speaking ill of you, sunshine.”
He tugs the mask up to the bridge of his nose, places a slow kiss against the corner of your jaw.
“Now, for our wager…”
You turn your face away as his hand trails down your abdomen, thumb sweeping over your navel. You shiver as he toys with the waistband of your pants, then finally slips his fingers inside, down….
“Oh, luv,” he moans.
You’re fucking soaked for him. Your panties alone are absolutely ruined. When he pulls them aside and strokes his fingertips through your slit, they come away gleaming. Your clit is swollen and hard, so sensitive that the gentlest brush makes you hiccup and twitch.
He stuffs the two fingers in his mouth, sucking the taste of you from bloody skin. Fucking divine. He could cum in his pants from that alone.
“Mm, shame that,” he rasps in your ear. “Guess I win.”
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shotmrmiller · 11 months ago
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damn i couldnt help myself. im just being delusional wishing this was me; in the same cbf!johnny and fwb!simon beeecause. unedited.
pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader
tw: menstrual blood and sex
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You were at home, curled up in bed dying from menstrual cramps. Your menses had come so unexpectedly that you even had to rain-check your hookup with Simon. A particularly painful throb in your lower stomach has you curling into yourself further, burying under the blankets.
“Bonnie?” Johnny’s voice rings out from your living room. The bedroom door opens and he comes in, placing a plastic bag on your dresser, and quickly taking off his shoes to crawl underneath the blanket with you. “Hey, bonnie. How ye holdin’ on?” and you grunt in response.
“Och, that bad huh?” he loops his arm around your back and pulls you flush to him, rubbing soft circles on your lower tummy. His large warm hand feels so good in contrast to the cramps. “Y’know,” he murmurs, “I ken something that I heard can help alleviate some of yer pain.” 
“What is it?” letting out a pained groan. “I’ll take anything.” He slowly lowers his hand down to curl his fingers into the waistband of your pajama shorts. “Ye trust me?” You stiffen at that. Is he really offering to— “Johnny, I—”
“C’mon, hen. When have I ever not taken care of ye? I promise to make it good.” Johnny doesn’t wait for your answer, just kneels in between your legs, taking off your shorts and knickers. “Fuck, I’ll make it so good. Look at this pretty pussy,” he grabs onto your thighs, opening them wider, “Yer a vision, baby. I’ve dreamt of this for so long, ye’ve no idea.” He doesn’t even let you try to stop him from touching you all bloody, he just thumbs your lips before rolling small circles on your clit. 
“Can’t believe it took me this long to do this,” he says. His touch is turning the ache in your belly into a burning fire, your limbs tingling. You could feel yourself leak with blood and slick— making your clit slippery, easier for Johnny to bring you to your peak.
“Johnny, oh,” you moan loudly, and he lowers himself to suck on your neck to leave a love bite. “Ye like that?” and you nod jerkily, your nails digging into his arm. “Yer close?” another nod. “C’mon then, cum for me, pretty girl,” and he puts your nipple into his mouth, through your shirt, holding it between his teeth as he uses his tongue to flick it and you break. He pushes you off the peak with a pleasure so delicious, so sharp it stings. You can feel wet gush from in between your legs as you gasp shuddering breaths into his neck, vision going dark at the edges. When you finally stop shaking, you realize that Johnny is already taking himself out of his jeans and nudging your slit. 
“Wait, Johnny, I don’t think I can—” and he cuts you off. 
“Course ye can, sweet. Ye said ye’ll take anything, no?” and nudges his hips forward, the head of his cock parting your gummy swollen walls, “Then take me.” And he bottoms out. 
Later when you’re stuffed full of his cum and no longer in pain, you come to the realization that you canceled on Simon just to end up getting fucked by your best friend instead. You’re pulled out of your inner ramblings when Johnny’s mouth hungrily finds yours. 
“Let’s get you in the shower, eh bonnie?” he says between kisses, “ I’ll take care of the sheets.” With one final tug on your bottom lip, he lets you go, and you get up, stumbling towards your bathroom— milky pink dripping down your legs.
He picks up his phone and toothily grins at the text on his screen. 
She’s fuckin delicious, isn’t she? 
He taps out his response and gets up to put the bedsheets in the washer.
You know it, L.T.
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alcoholfreenayeon · 1 month ago
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Idk about y’all, but Momo’s wet hair look in do not touch still has my mind buzzing to this day 😵‍💫
What if one day like mafia momo, or just ceo momo gets up to get ready for work, and you find her in the closet getting ready. Well… she just looks so fine with her muscular arms and whatnot, tying her tie around her neck, that you decide to give her a bj before she goes to work 🙈
-🦭
Daydream
CW: G!p Momo x Reader, Smut, NSFW, blowjob, facefucking
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A/N: Hopefully this didn’t feel like too long of a wait 🦭anon🙂‍↕️
“Y/N, come here…”, Momo says seductively as she grabs your jaw pulling you closer, your lips about to touch hers. You close your eyes waiting for the connection, a moment passes….then another, still nothing but you’ve kept leaning forward the entire time. You realize you can’t feel Momo’s hand anymore either and snap your eyes open to find yourself on your bed.
Groaning and sighing in realization that it was just a dream, you manage to sit up, rubbing your eyes and looking around. A quick glance at the clock shows it’s already 8. You huff as you dangle your legs off the side of the bed when Momo emerges from the closet, buttoning up her shirt and facing the mirror. You can’t help suck in your breath and stare at her, biting your lips longingly. You just love how she looks when she dresses up for work, the way her body looks in her suit…god you just want to devour her.
Momo now grabs her tie and begins to knot it, looking at the mirror as she ties it and notices you staring, she smirks and winks at you through the mirror and you nearly gasp out. This girl…she’s really abusing the effect she has on you. You purse your lips, your face starting to flush as you continue to stare at her. Momo sees you continuing to stare and suppresses a grin.
You make up your mind, you can’t help it anymore, not when Momo plays into it and teases you. You get up and walk up to her, hugging her from behind, burying your face into her neck as you breathe in and take her scent in. Smells so good, so…Momo. You tighten your grip on her, “Mm…baby….”.
“Yes honey?”, she asks, a hint of smugness in her tone.
“I need you”, you answer quietly, tracing your finger down her arm.
“Eh? Now? I’m basically ready for work already.”, she replies, finishing with her tie.
“Ugh”, You turn her around with some effort, looking up at her innocently, “come on please, it’ll be quick…probably. I’ll suck you off just the way you like it…no limits…”, you add at the end knowing Momo well and you hold back a smile as you see her breathing quicken for a second.
She looks at you gritting her teeth before sighing and quickly beginning to undo her pants, “Fine, I give up but”, she grabs you by your chin, “you better make sure you do your best.”
You smile and nod, getting on your knees and pulling her pants down and freeing her cock, it’s already hardening in anticipation. You lick your lips and get to work immediately, sucking on her tip and swirling your tongue around it drawing a moan from her. You continue until she’s completely hard and then begin to take her deeper slowly, bobbing your head steadily as you slowly get used to her length and girth. You pull away for a second to catch your breath, panting before going back in, almost reaching half of her length now. Momo’s breathing quickens and you feel her put a hand on your hair, stroking it softly, “Keep going babygirl…”, she moans out.
You try to take in more of her of cock but end up gagging slightly as it touches the start of your throat, you try to pull back a bit but Momo grips your hair tightly, “It’s not going to be quick if you are being so slow, you are just halfway….you know what, how about you just focusing on looking at me all pretty while I fuck your throat.”
You look at her, struggling slightly but nod knowing and anticipating this. She probably didn’t realize it yet but you kinda were being slow and hesitant on purpose. You liked it when she just used you like that was your only purpose. But you didn’t want to let her know that, that’d be giving her too much power and as tempting as it was, you couldn’t be walking around with a sore throat or shaky legs 24/7.
She pulls back and lets you take a deep breath, slowly pushing her cock down your throat, pausing for a few seconds each time you gag and in a couple minutes her cock is in your throat as she begins to fuck your face. Your eyes already start to water and you feel yourself running out of air but you also feel really really turned on. The way she’s gripping your hair and breathing heavily. The way her cock is moving down your neck. It’s so intoxicating. You feel her increase her pace, holding your hair with both her hands and moaning louder. You are starting to feel lightheaded now, not doing anything now, just letting Momo use you. A few moments later, you feel a rush of adrenaline and you renew your efforts, humming and licking her cock causing her to groan and thrust more aggressively. You can feel her cock beginning to throb in excitement, she was getting close…
Momo keeps facefucking you roughly, going faster and faster until she lets out a groan and pushes until your face is firmly pressed against her toned abs. She grunts and shudders as she begins to cum, wave after wave splashing down your throat straight to your stomach. You moan weakly from the sensation and Momo slowly pulls back a little, still shuddering from the aftershocks, spilling some cum in your mouth and staying there for a few seconds before pulling her cock out of your mouth. You take a deep breath and swallow it making her stroke your hair softly, “Good girl”, she says panting.
You wipe away the tears and catch your breath, your jaw hurting and throat feeling sore, closing your eyes softly as Momo keeps stroking your hair and face. A minute later, she groans and dresses up again, constantly checking the mirror to make sure she’s ready. You are still kneeling when she helps you up, kissing your forehead and leading you back to bed. She hands you some water, “Drink up baby. You need it, you did so well. I’m already feeling tired thanks to you.”
You manage a weak smile and giggle at that, realizing how exhausting that was for you and lie down. Momo kisses your cheek and says goodbye before leaving for work. Meanwhile you keep resting, sipping the water and wondering what you should do to make Momo take care of your needs later today….
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years ago
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For a request:
Maybe a rescue fic with ghost, price, or soap? One where they rescue their non military fem s/o? I know you’ve written some already and they are so good but I EAT THEM UP EVERY TIME and love that trope so much!!!!!!
Hurt/comfort is my drug I swear
I know that’s pretty vague so maybe I’ll think of more eventually but that’s what I’ve got for now.
I love your writing!
- 🧚🏻‍♀️🧚🏻‍♀️
None Lacking Sins
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Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader
Synopsis: It started with the incident at the grocery store and then built to the hidden gun in the nightstand and a quick, frantic, call to your boyfriend.
Word Count: 7.4k
Warnings: Implied stalking, violence & blood, angst, protective Soap, suggestive language and conversations, implications of wanting a kid, vulgar language, fluffy banter, hurt/comfort, canon typical actions, edited in the middle of the night
A/N: I've been in a Soap mood lately, tbh. I think I'm going to flip-flop uploads for my Gaz series and Requests too...anyways. Enjoy, anon! You can never go wrong with a rescue fic!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*  
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You called him for the first time when you were at the store, picking out dinner and asking what he wanted for a welcome home meal.
“Well,” his sly voice made you roll your eyes, but a smile still blossomed over your lips. “If you want me to be rash, Bonnie, I’d say that I wouldn't mind a good bite out of your–”
“Johnny, you finish that sentence, you’re not going to get anything besides butter on toast. Give me a recipe before it gets dark out.” Veiled glee was obvious from your tone, and the heat on your face could all but be heard over the line. Two months apart had made you both eager to be in each other's presence. 
Picking up a box of pasta, you flip it over and check the price, sticking to your budget and tilting the phone parallel to your chin. A deep chuckle meets your ears, and your chest feels light as it pierces your lungs. 
Your boyfriend was off in Australia this deployment—he’d been complaining about the heat nonstop on those few and far between video calls the two of you shared. While it was a step-up to know where exactly Johnny was this go around, the prospect of his job still made you incredibly nervous. There was never a time you could remember when he came home without a new cut or scar; bruises were all but guaranteed. 
Sucking down a soothing breath, you place the pasta into your cart and fix the phone’s position. The Scot was coming home in a day or so, you wanted to make him feel at home again. Destress.
You’ll see him before you know it. There’s no need to worry.
“Bit snappy, then, eh? Oh, alright.” The man huffs good-heartedly, and you hear the springs of those thin barracks-bed mattresses as his large frame shifts. Johnny lets off a soft sigh before continuing. You listen intently, leaning onto the handlebar ahead of you. “What about a nice plate ‘O that one you always make—hell—the…the one with the Pollock and cabbage.”
You blink through a laugh, shaking your head and pushing yourself off to go find the needed ingredients. The dish wasn’t easy to make, in fact, it took a helluva lot of time, but you didn’t mind in the slightest when it came to cooking for Johnny. He deserved it. 
“Hey, now,” He teases, smirking to himself, “What’s so funny over there, Dearie? You makin’ fun of me?”
“I would never dream of it, oh great and wondrous, Mr. MacTavish!” You huff, fake serious, as you place a box of cookies into the cart and pass a few strangers who raise an eyebrow at your conversation. A man passes by with a blue cap on, and you swerve the cart to move around him while tossing back a frown. You soon continue on like nothing happened, pulling back the sense of security from the man over the line. “Do you want mashed potatoes with that as well? Wine?”
Johnny groans, “Hey, you’re the one that asked me!” 
Divulging into giggles, you make your way around the store and stock up, holding a light conversation about how he and the rest of the boys were doing. 
“Ghost told me to let you know he appreciated the book you lent him, said he’d get it back to ya as soon as he’s able.” The Scot comments, and a hum makes its way from you as you head to the self-checkout. 
“Well, that’s good. I said he would like it – the bastard’s so tight-lipped about what he enjoys it was hard to nail-down a genre.” A chortle sounds off when you gather the chilled pollock and scan it; the phone was held against your shoulder to your ear. “High Fantasy for the win, I guess.” 
“I should get the man to read ‘The Way of Kings’ next time—form a little book club, y’know? Get all the boys in on it like some old ladies.” It was adorable how cute Johnny sounded, like a kid on Christmas. “Stemin’ Jesus, could you picture that, Bonnie?”
“I’d pay to see you pitch that, Dear.” A cheeky tone leaks through. “Price would laugh straight into your face.” 
“Please, the old man doesn’t know how to laugh….He’d just puff cigar smoke in my face and tell me to fuck off.” 
“As I said—I’d pay to see it.” Your boyfriend grumbles under his breath as you place the paper bags into your cart, the contents heavy, and grab your receipt with quick fingers. “Gaz would definitely be in for it, though.”
“I don’t doubt that. Anything beats playing cards for weeks straight, aye?” Your hand can finally grip the phone once more, and you sigh contently as the strained position of your neck finally rights itself. 
You’re about to answer but slow your pace with a scrunched look of confusion as you exit. 
Passing through the front doors, you suddenly get a strange sensation in the back of your mind to turn around. The hairs along your arms stand up as a breeze passes the steadily chilling dark sky, but the way the shiver ran down your spine wasn’t due to cold. Lips thinning, you spare a glance over your shoulder and look along the brightly lit grocery store as its windows leave cascading rays of light over the sun-bleached concrete. The black asphalt of the parking lot is hard under your feet.
There are a handful of other patrons at the checkouts—mothers with children and others buying quick meals for dinner—but none are out of the ordinary. 
You huff and roll your shoulders.
Maybe the day’s just getting to me.
“Bonnie,” Johnny’s slightly concerned voice brings you blinking back, turning your head back to the sparsely lit parking lot and realizing you had stopped walking completely. Your hand was sweaty like you’d just run somewhere. Fixing your hold on the device, your boyfriend continues, “...Everything alright? You’ve gone all quiet over there.”
“Yeah, sorry,” you laugh dismissively, trudging forward to your car, “I just got the weirdest feeling right outside the grocery store.” 
The cart makes a loud rumbling sound as it goes over loose rocks and the bumpy texture of the asphalt, the metal rattling loudly so you have to strain your ears to hear Johnny’s next words. 
“What kind of feeling?” His drowned-out voice was so serious that it shocked you—you’d only ever heard him use a tone like this when he had briefly talked about nightmares that had woken him up in your shared bed. 
The Scot’s words were monotone, slow, and even if the sound of the cart’s wheels was raging all around you and making your skull rattle, you’d still swear you would identify that tone over a hurricane. It made your gut churn. 
“Really, it’s probably nothing,” you play off with a tense shrug he can’t see, coming to a stop at your car and reaching into your pocket for your keys. “I just got a chill.” 
Your eyes look around before you open the trunk, biting into your lip at the long shadows that the tall street lamps give off. Licking over your teeth, you bink dismissively and shake your head, unlocking the vehicle and huffing as you begin loading in your purchases. 
“Anyways,” you try to ignore the hard build of your spine or the way your eyes travel back to the brightly lit store. There wasn’t anyone out here but you and the dead forms of cars, trees off in the distance, and far-off lights of other buildings. You swallow and clear your throat. “I was thinking about getting us a dog.” 
“You’re not gettin’ out of this that—wait, did you say dog?” Across the world in a shitty bed, Johnny’s once concerned eyes widen, jaw going slack. “No way in Christ’s Hell, Dearie.”
“Oh, come on!” You groan, placing the second to last bag into the car and tuning your back to the street, throwing out your hand. “It doesn’t have to be a big dog—just one I can go on walks with and keep me company. I know you have a bad past with them, Love, but I just want someone to help not make the house so empty when you’re gone.” 
Your voice slides off near the end of the sentence, and you try not to sound so sullen. Johnny frowns as he stares into the far wall of the barracks over the heads of sleeping men, itching at the back of his neck. It was no secret that the Scot wasn’t particularly fond of canines—his encounters with them were almost never pleasant unless he knew the handler. 
But…
“I’ll think it over, eh, Bonnie?” He relents, sighing, and he thinks he hears snickers from a dark form in the distant corner. The Sergeant glares over at it and continues with a pang of internal guilt about how lonely you must feel most of the time. “Promise…but you’re more likely to get a cat dressed in a suit than a mangy mutt anytime soon.” 
You laugh at the attempt of a lighthearted joke, closing the trunk with a roll of your eyes. A breeze goes by and your arms erupt into shivers, clothes not enough to keep out the chill. 
“I’ll take it.” 
“Hm, you know,” Johnny smirks, rubbing at the sleep in his eyes and grunting out huskily, “there’s another way to make sure the house won’t be all quiet when I’m gone.”
“Keep it in your pants, MacTavish. You’re not even here yet.” Smiling through the heat of your cheeks, the skin of your cheeks glows; your body rolls with heat. “Save it for tomorrow.”
“What, am I gettin’ you all worked up over there?” He hums, and you grab your cart, pushing it into one of the specific areas where someone would grab it in the morning. “‘Cause I have no problem with waitin’, Dearie, all the more perfect when I get to be with ya.’”
“You wish, handsome.” Walking back to the slight rumbling of your car, you speak through tilted lips and completely miss the form walking up beside you. “I think that—”
“Excuse me?” 
Yelping, you nearly drop your phone to the floor as it slips out of your startled grip; heart jerking at the sudden intrusion into an intimate conversation. Swiftly turning around you spot the same man as before—the one with the blue cap that had passed by quite rudely in the store. His strong face looks sheepish.
Johnny quickly calls your name through the line, and you let off a reassurance before tilting the device down.
“Holy hell, man, give a girl a warning next time, yeah?” Chuckling weakly to push back tension and the twisting of your intestines, you notice the stranger’s tall frame is covered in a heavy jacket. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yeah, actually,” He’s not outwardly alarming to look at, the man, with his loose body gestures and controlled tone. “Sorry, but I was just wondering if you could lend me a hand. I found a kitten under a van back there,” he points, and you look over to the far corner of the parking lot. Sure enough, there was a large van surrounded by two black cars. Your eyes narrow on the scene, already getting a prickly feeling. “Do you have any food that might bring it out? Or maybe you’d be willing to reach under and grab the little bastard?” 
The stranger laughs and continues with a jerking of his shoulders. You watch every movement with an upticking pulse, fingers tight over the phone as Johnny listens with growing worry. 
The Sergeant's dark eyebrows pull tight, and he stands like he could run out the door to you; jaw tight and muscles wound.
“Put me on speaker.” You decline silently. Better not to get a hotheaded and protective Scot involved when he was thousands of miles away.
“Sorry,” Clearing your throat, you take a step back, attempting a friendly smile. “I have to get home to my husband.” It wasn’t the first time you’d had to use the spouse card to get away from creeps, and it won't be the last. Worked better than just the boyfriend title, honestly. And there was something about this man’s eyes that didn’t sit right with you. “Work night and all, you understand?”
“He left yet?” Johnny asks, gruff as his accent gets stronger. “Else I’m callin’ the store and sending security out to you.” 
“It shouldn’t take a long time,” the man begs and you take another slow step back to the car door, pupils going tiny. Breaths shallow. “You’ll be back to your…husband, in a few minutes. I’d hate to leave the poor guy all alone.” 
“Sorry.” You say again, firmer. “No.” 
Not wasting any time, you open the car and jump inside, wrenching it closed once more and pressing the lock. Breathing heavily, you stick the keys into the ignition, missing a couple of times, and look into the side mirrors to spy on the tall shadow that hovers like a plague. 
“Sweetheart? Hey?” Johnny calls out your name as you force the car to start driving away, face tight and limbs shaking. “Hey, are you alright?” 
The man has half the sense to wake up Price, but with the stirring bodies around him, there’s half a chance the Captain already knows something’s off. Johnny hadn’t bothered to check his noise level when the uncomfortableness seeped from you over to him. What kind of a man approaches a woman near dark and asks a question like that? The action didn’t sit right with the Scot. 
Johnny’s body hums with energy—volatile rage keeps his heart in a tight fist with a deep seething hatred of not being with you to help force back the freaks in person. He wasn’t above getting into someone's face if the situation called for it; after a couple of outings to less-than-nice pubs, all it took was a few nervous glances from you nowadays for him to create a barrier out of his own flesh.
“I’m okay,” you whisper to him, biting at your lips and peeling back flesh. “It’s all good. I-I’m on the road already.” 
A great weight falls from the man in the form of a sigh. He slowly sits back down on the mattress, lips thinning and slightly shaking his head. His free hand comes up to rub over his cheek. 
“Good. That’s good…” He snaps out of his concerned stupor quickly, but the fast beating of his heart does anything but slow. “You’re okay.” 
It wasn���t worded as a question, maybe more of a reassurance, but it helped you immensely. Your tension lessened at the comforting sound of Scottish drawl and deep, silver, voice. But you wanted him to wrap his arms around you; gaze into those cerulean orbs.
Tomorrow.
“Keep on the line until I get home?” You ask feebly, not able to resist looking in the mirrors as you turn out of the parking lot. 
The blue-capped stranger was still standing there, and one of the black cars in the far corner had turned its headlights on. A deep dread overtakes your ribs like you’d just gotten out of something very, very, bad. A sense of a lingering morality stays in between your ribs.
“‘Course. Wouldn’t be doin’ anything else, Bonnie.” Johnny utters, glaring at the floor. “I’ll be ‘ere the whole time.”
It wasn’t fair that he was unable to be there with you—never before had the constraints from his job hit him full strength in the chest like this. If he can’t protect the ones he loves back on the home field, then what was the point of the Task Force in the first place? 
By the time you get home after taking the fastest route, you quickly gather everything from the back and shuffle inside, pulse still racing. You lock the door behind you and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. 
Johnny’s soft breath over the call was like a lullaby, right in your ear as if he was beside you in bed. Oh, you missed his soft snores more than anything. Your gaze goes glossy, but the tears are held back stubbornly. 
As if sensing your turmoil, your boyfriend speaks lowly. 
“Y’know, I bet the rest of the boys would really love it if we kept ‘em over for a drink and a bite when we all get back. I can whip up something quick on the grill and you can take a breather, eh?” He speaks so softly it almost makes the tears worse, heart palpitating. 
You wetly laugh and place a hand to your mouth, standing in the dark foyer with groceries on the floor and a primal fear slowly leaving you. The familiar scents of charcoal and birch wood from the Scots hair product are stuck into the very walls of this shared dwelling, along with the scuffs on the floor from play-wrestling during movies; a light that needed to be replaced due to Johnny accidentally running straight into it at two am. He had thought an intruder had broken in, but it was just a bird that had snuck in through an open window.
The signs of a well-lived and loved home. 
“But you wanted pollock,” you grumble with a hidden smile and burning ears, pushing the tip of your shoe into the front rug.
Johnny beams and goes to lie back down, putting a hand behind his head against the pillow.
“Well, now I’m makin’ burgers. Guess you’re just going to have to sit back and watch my fabulous arse from the porch, yeah, Dearie? Don’t burn a hole into them, now, they’re the only pair I’ve got, and I know how much you like ‘em.”
“Shut up.” 
“I’ll even wear that apron you got me—what was it you said it did,” the cheeky Scot smirks, all teeth and crinkled eyelids, and hears your complaints get louder as your mind flies away from what had happened almost immediately. “Made me look like I should be in a porno? Hell, if you were in it with me, I’d not complain ‘bout it. Steamin’ Jesus, I’d let you do horrible things to me, Dearie.”
From somewhere in the barracks a low groan echoes out and Johnny snaps his hand down to stifle his loud laughter as you bark at him. 
“MacTavish!” 
Great bouts of laughter leave everyone glaring from atop pillows and from over fingers stuffed into ears; some even get up and gather blankets, leaving the barracks room entirely.
In your foyer, your body blazes with heat like you’d been set on fire, a hand placed over your eyes and a treacherous grin on your mouth. 
“Keep your voice down, you absolute arsepiece!”
“Aye—! That’s what I’m tryin’ to tell ya!” 
“Johnny!”
The second time you called him was out of pure curiosity, only a few hours before your lover was scheduled to come home and cook for you and his Task Force. Around six o'clock. 
“When was our postbox all scratched up?” Your thumb runs over the black numbers of the sequence, blinking with wrinkled skin as you take a glance at the neighbors’ and frown. No one else's was like that. “I thought you said you compromised with the local kids and would give them money for sweets so they would stop messing with our stuff?” 
“Little fiends were sucking me dry!” Johnny huffs, “No way the devils would pass up more sugar and do something like that. What’s it look like, then? A few stray rocks manage to dent it?”
Your lips release a sigh and you pick up your mail with an annoyed grunt, closing and locking the cubby as you reply. “No way, it looks like someone took a knife to it.” Clicking your tongue, you shake your head. “God, things have just been going wrong lately.”
Shuffling his feet over the tarmac and hearing the plane engines die down behind him, Johnny takes a glance back. Price was standing at the top of the C17 arms crossed and head tilted—the Scot could imagine the raised eyebrow almost immediately. 
He grimaces and holds up a finger, walking a few more steps away as Gaz leaves the hull with his bags slung over his shoulders. 
“I can’t talk any longer, Bonnie, Price’ll wring me for not helpin’ unload the gear. He’s damn near skinnin’ me already.”
You chuckle, “Tell him I said ‘hello’ and not to damage the face.” 
“Oh, you’re a horror, you are, Dearie.” 
Quick declarations of love and see you soons were exchanged before the connection was cut, and your feet carried you back into the house. Your phone and the mail went to sit on the tiny hallways table, shoes tossed onto the plastic mat sitting on the floor with a small thump. 
Sighing, you rub over your eyes, thinking over if it was worth calling the post office or just trying to fix the scratches yourself. 
“I think we have some paint in the garage…” You trail off. 
Ultimately, you just pushed that to the back burner. Johnny was coming home. Your lips peeled into a large smile, and you’re rushing off to get into a nice outfit for the rest of Task Force who was coming a bit later than your boyfriend. Thoughts of finally being able to be picked up by your boyfriend's strong arms were all-consuming, being held into a broad chest and digging your nails to the dip of his spine. 
Just being able to be around the mohawked-man was a blessing that you’d never take for granted. 
You settled on a nice top and casual pants—you’d met the others before, so there was no need to go overboard. Smoothing your clothes down, you enter the living room and go to open the curtains, letting the light of the interior spread to the small lawn and the street. Humming under your breath, the vehicle outside doesn’t catch your attention immediately; the black metal is just another parked entity sitting still. 
When you do pause, your curtains half-opened, the delayed shock makes you lose precious time as you stare slack-jawed at one of the twin cars from yesterday at the parking lot. Your fingers clench into the fabric in a sudden moment of frozen shock. As if a mythical creature had just run past your field of view, the parting of your lips is instinctual before the widening of your eyes. 
A still second passes before you’re sprinting to the front door—locking it and snatching your phone. Heart pounding, you make a dash to the bedroom, dialing Johnny with fear-tight pupils. 
He had told you if there was ever an emergency to call him right away, he’d get there faster than any police officer; for the record, you believed that wholeheartedly. Johnny was more loyal than a dog in a pack, once someone raised the alarm the Sergeant was locked in. 
Rushing into the bedroom, you trip over the tossed covers but right yourself as the dialing tone sounds out, heavy breathing making your lungs hurt. You open the nightstand table and dig under a collection of books, hand meeting the smooth metal of an M9 pistol. 
Putting the phone on speaker, you throw it onto the mattress.
Legally, you shouldn’t even have this—while Johnny had been teaching you to shoot, you didn’t have a license for it yet. But he’d insisted on leaving you behind with something to defend yourself with.
The confused voice of your lover sounds over the open space. “Jesus, Bonnie, you miss me that much? It cannae ‘ave been more than ten minutes—”
“The car from yesterday is outside the house.” You throw the books to the floor and hear them make a clatter just as you pull out a box of ammunition. Taking out the gun’s magazine, you load bullets with a violently shaking hand. Some hit the ground with a metallic ping, but you pay little attention, just blinking back anxious tears and a harsh focus on the sounds of the front door handle being jimmied.
“I…what?” Johnny’s voice gets heavier, demanding with a snarl trapped in the back of his throat. 
Standing stationary in the doorway Base—about a twenty-minute drive from home, the man’s heart suddenly jumps in his breast. Did he hear you right? Behind him, Ghost slows to a stop at the now blocked opening, watching with narrowed eyes; a large rifle slung over his shoulder and a carry bag in his arm. Johnny’s shoulders wind tight, feet parted as he suddenly turns on his heels and takes off back the way he came in, the phone still at his ear where the Lieutenant knew you were on the call.
“What the fuck?!” Ghost’s skeletal head follows after and pointedly notices the Scots lack of care for how his bags hit the ground but keeps the pistol holstered at his thigh and the combat knife strapped to his upper shoulder. 
“Johnny?” He calls out, but only the wind answers him. “The hell are you off to?!” The gargantuan man sends a glance over to Price who was watching just as intently, lids narrowed. Gaz cleared his throat.
“....Shouldn’t we follow him? Sounds pretty serious.” 
Price sighs, taking a moment to watch Soap sprint to the main building and shove past other soldiers and staff. He grunts.
“Move light.” 
The phone call was filled with heavy breathing and hurried orders. 
Your boyfriend was running you down the basics of firing at a moving target as the sound of pounding at the front door became more hurried.
“It’s not like a stationary target—when someone’s runnin’ at ya, they're gonna be moving quick and you’re not going to be able to fire if you don’t mean it!” 
“Okay, okay,” you mutter with a shaky inhalation, loading the M9’s magazine and clicking off the safety. “What the hell do they want with me?” The whispered question is more for you than it is for anyone else, but the answer from the sprinting Scot startles you. 
At that exact moment, the pounding of a fist stops completely.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re gonna fire at the first bastard that comes down that hallway. We’ll ask the questions later.” You hear a car door opening and a yell from Johnny’s side, soon the clammer of grunting breaths an exclamation of ‘hurry the fuck up!’
“I—”
“If you need to, leave through the window and go to the neighbors. Take cover in the foliage and slip away to the back alley.” Johnny never spoke like this to you—clipped and deathly serious. But now that you think about it, as you stay frozen and barricaded in the bedroom, if he spoke any differently you’d probably break down. “Do you copy?”
This was Sergeant MacTavish, and damn him if anything came between that man and the people he cared about. 
He barks your name, “Do you copy?!” 
“Yeah,” the gun shakes in your grip, but nonetheless you hold it at your hip and turn your eyes to the window. It would be easier to leave, you think. You’re not trained for this! “I–I think I’m going to—”
The front door’s window is broken with a shattering of glass. You rush to the phone and turn off the speaker, afraid that the sound would immediately tell these people where you were. Loud shouts flow into the foyer and spread like venom under the crack of the thin barrier separating you and the intruders. 
“Spread out and find her!”
“Yes, Sir!” 
Sir? You ask, eyes snapping this way and that as Johnny is dead silent on the other side. You think you hear the slam of a foot to the pedal, but you can’t be sure. Fuck, there was so much going on, you didn’t know what to do.
“Screw this, I’m going out the fucking window.” You gasp out, lungs tight and skin sweaty, you turn on the safety on the gun and stuff it into your belt. 
One-handed, you unlatch the lock and strain your ears, hearing feet getting closer. Grunting, you shove the heavy frame up and try to stop the ringing in your ears. Whoever these people in your house were—they were professionals. They had patience; studied your intellect with the trick in the parking lot and followed you home so they could mark your postbox number as a reminder of your address. What the hell was happening? 
Just as you’re about to make the small drop into the flower bed, a creak echoes from behind the bedroom door. You freeze in place, one foot dangling into the backyard. 
Breathing slowly, your eyes lock to the deep shadow that spreads like two distorted poles as the large feet face the very place you’d holed up. As delicately as you’re able with an award-setting tremor in your gut, you place the phone down onto the window sill; Johnny’s loud and worried voice dims as all attention moves to self-preservation. You’re just about to reach for your gun when the door busts off its hinges. 
Starling, and before your hands can find purchase, you’re tumbling backward—out of the house entirely with a stifled shout of alarm. Slamming to the ground and crushing flowers in the process, you have no time to think about the pain going up your spine or at the base of your skull before you’re scrambling for the M9. 
Just as someone peeks out from the window, face covered and holding an assault rifle, you’re firing three shots in rapid succession as you don’t even remember flicking off the safety. 
Two shots miss entirely, but on the last and final press of the trigger, as your arms catch the recoil, it connects. 
A comment is cut short as blood explodes in a great wave of velocity, coating the house upwards almost to the shingled roof. The body slumps, weight bringing it down to hang limp over the frame.
Wide-eyed, you still hold the shaking gun in the air, muzzle smoking, breathing fast through your mouth. Had you just…
Your stomach bunched, acid traveling up your throat to pool under your tongue. Perhaps you would have thrown up at that moment, the setting reality that you’d just shot someone in the head like an anvil in your pounding skull. But the barking voices from inside the house snap you back. 
Gasping down the breaths you realized you hadn’t been taking, your wobbly feet dart to shove you up like a newborn deer as sprinting bodies close in on the porch’s sliding door. God, you could only imagine what Johnny was thinking. 
Bolting out of your backyard fence, you remember your lover’s orders and run as fast as you’re able to the neighbor's open yard, using the darkening sky to help cover you. Cursing under your breath and thinking over all of the ways this should have already gone wrong, you wipe at the tears cascading down your cheeks. 
Don’t think about it—just get away.
It wasn’t long before you were down the alleyway, feet weak and lungs burning. There was a stickiness to the back of your scalp, blood, undoubtedly, from an injury caused by the fall.
It’s a damn miracle I didn’t break anything. 
What would you have done then? Just let those people take or kill you? You shiver at the idea and force yourself to go faster. Darting around a corner, your feet skid to a quick halt. 
The barrel of a gun was pointed directly at your face. 
“Had a feeling you’d be slippery.” It was the voice of the man from the parking lot—the man with the blue cap. Your face jerks to an imitation of confined horror and unease at the same eyes boring into you. He was dressed in gear like the rest of the men now exiting your house to hunt you down. The stranger shifts his feet and you flinch. “Drop the gun, Sweetheart.” 
“Who the fuck are you?” You find your voice, hissing out. The pistol clatters to the floor as it slips from your grip and you hate how you flinch at the sound. 
“Your boyfriend and his buddies are hard to track down.” Blue Cap huffs, and the tall stature of the man makes you incredibly nervous. Backing up a step instinctually, he follows and smirks. “But I figured the best way to meet him was to find his little bird first—he’d come right to me. Cliche, I know, but you can’t fault me. Works every time.” 
What did this guy want with your Johnny? Gritting your teeth, your fingers shake at your sides, hips tense and ready to run.
“He’ll kill you.” You level, not keen to show this man how disgusting you felt being near him. 
He shuffles up next to you, grabbing the meat of your arm. Trying to jerk away, the barrel of his weapon is shoved into your ribs; gasping, your body goes rigid.
If your heart goes any faster, it’ll break.
“Not if I threaten to kill you first.” Forcing you forward, you glare and feel the urge to spit in the man’s face. “C’mon, hun.”
“Don’t fucking call me that, freak.” 
“Ooo…fangs. Can’t be surprised, you did shoot one of my men, after all. Not a bad trigger finger, but you do need decent work on your accuracy if you wanna make anything out of it.” Your eyebrows pull in as you’re corralled back out of the alleyway, barrel bruising your skin and blood dripping down your neck. The man’s grip hurts as a strangled whimper falls from your bitten lips. 
Feet scraping over concrete, you’re brought out into the street as neighbors peak out of windows with drawn curtains; phones to their faces. Did these intruders not care about the police? If anything, that made you sweat more. 
“Ride’s waiting.” 
“I’m not getting into that.” Grunting, your eyes are stuck on the black void of the car parked in the street. A menagerie of other armed men stands all over. “Hell no—you can just shoot me now if that’s the case.”
“Don’t tempt me, I can still go after the Sergeant’s dear old mom,” your lungs chill as the man chuckles to himself, looking down at you through dark lashes. “He has a cousin, too, am I right?” 
Rageful tears spark behind your lids as you blink. 
No way it was going to go like this. Where’s Johnny? 
The gun was taken from your ribs as you’re shoved forward. 
“Get in. Now. We’re already behind schedule.” You stare into the interior and clench your fists, lips quivering but jaw clenched. Your Lover’s voice comes to you, sure of himself and laced with stubbornness. 
If you’re ever in trouble, you wait for me, Dearie. I’ll be there ‘fore you know it, ready to defend your honor like the knight in shinin’ armor I am, eh? Why are you laughing…?
Turning back around with every ounce of courage you can muster, you splay your feet and cross your arms.
“No.” The gun is raised to your head, and you want to flinch back in terror but restrain yourself. 
“Get in.” 
“No.” How your voice wasn’t breaking was a question in and of itself, but Johnny had always said you were stubborn like him. Best time to prove him right was with a barrel to your face, apparently.
The stranger’s eyes light with anger, hands clenching over the body of the weapon as the rest of his men stare on in shock. A growl meets air.
“I’m not asking for a third time, Sweetheart—” One loud boom later and you’re ducking down with your hands over your head, ears ringing and body unsteady; a great weight hits the ground right next to you.
The sound of gunfire rattles the world all around the once quiet street, and you think that you and your Lover will have to move after this. No way the neighbors could let all this slide. Looking up, your eyes jump from the corpse spasming near you to the running men, chaos breeding in the lines between shouts and dropping bodies. 
A hand latches into your waist, and you’re being lifted into strong arms moments later. Squealing, your head snaps to the size and meets cerulean blue inlaid in a strong brow line. 
“I’ve got ya.” Your body loses all tension at the accent that you would know anywhere, even in death, a strong grip picking you up and keeping you close to his broad chest. 
Johnny carries you away in the midst of battle as the rest of the 141 get involved, making quick work of the remaining men. Breathing in his scent, you force your face under his chin, feeling the stubble scrape as your fingers dig into flesh. 
He’s here. He’s—he’s right here.
“Don’t worry, Dearie, I’m right here. It’s nearly over, now.” You try to bring him closer as he takes cover behind a wall, pressing his shoulders against the grating stone as he shields you closer to him. Sliding down to the ground.
His eyes snap back and forth, heart rapid. God, he was nearly too late. Johnny presses his nose into your hair as he breathes deeply, watching bodies fall and feeling you shake. Feeling you shiver; now finally able to let everything sink in. 
“Shh,” the Scot mutters, pressing you closer as you whisper his name in a hoarse breath. “You’re alright. I’m ‘ere, Bonnie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” His hands filter over your skin, checking for injuries and feeling over growing bumps from under-the-skin abrasions.
His teeth clench together in hate, hotheadedness taking over for a moment as part of him wants to rush out and pick a few of these bastards off himself. But it’s just not that simple. 
Looking out into the street with serious eyes, the radio attached to his vest sounds off as the last of the firefight ends almost as quickly as it began. 
“Clear.” It was Price. “How is she?” 
Johnny sighs, looking down at you in his hold as he whispers comforting words in quick succession.
“Shaken, but alright…” The reply is muttered as you sniffle, your fingers going to wipe away tears. “She’s—she’s alright.”
Johnny beats you to it as he tries to calm down, large digits tilting your head to the side and studying intently as he swipes them away with a firm thumb and a careful frown. 
“Johnny—” Your eyes stay locked on him as the Scot gets rid of any trace of fear or sadness, calluses burning your skin just as they always did. His gaze flickers to you; lips pulling tight. None of you choose to move, too content with being this close to one another and safe, even if the situation was serious. “I…”
You trail, not even knowing what to say as the wetness of your eyes blurs your vision, body hot, and the back of your skull aching. Your hands go to cup his cheeks. It’s all the words he needs. 
Eyes soft, the Sergeant attempts a weak and worried smile. “I’m so proud of you, Dearie, y’know that? So damn proud.” Your lips quirk, a strained laugh echoing out. A finger pokes the side of your nose. “Hey, I’m serious now. Stop your foolin'.” 
Johnny’s fingers run deep circles into your temples as you trace the lines of his cheeks. 
“Shut up.” You huff, straining against a wide smile. It was easy to push all of this behind you when you were looking at him. He made everything better.
“Hm,” He moves forward and presses his lips to your forehead, quickly going to lay kisses all over your face until giggles spill out from the alleyway to the waiting three. 
Gaz smiles to himself, Price grunts lightly, and Ghost gazes off. 
“I’ll just have to prove to my Bonnie Little Lady that she’s a prime piece of work, then, eh? Smarter; more quick than a fuckin’ recon team,” he leans close and you have to try and shove him away playfully when he starts to squish you against him. Your laughter grows as his scratchy chin nuzzles your neck. “And don’t mind me sayin’ now, but a proper fine pair of tits and arse to go along with the brains of ya, Dearie.”
“MacTavish!” you squeal, “I should call your mother up and explain how you speak to me—that’s vulgar! I know for a fact she didn’t teach you that.”
“Teach me? Oh, now, then, no one could teach me a thing when you’re around. Cannae think a bit; better off talkin’ to a pile of stone.” You punch his solid chest and laugh so hard your face hurts, breath fanning against his neck as his roaming praise continues as if his mind was a bag of water punctured by a knife. “I’m always thinkin’ ‘bout you, my Little Bonnie.” 
The last sentence is quietly muttered into your temple, a kiss pressed tight. He pulls back slightly and feels at the dried blood on your locks, fingers separating to find the scalp. Johnny’s chest rattles in a sigh, hand shaking slightly when he sees it. 
He’d also seen the body on the window sill, though he knows not to mention it.
Christ, you’d had to kill someone. 
The prospect of taking a life was easy to the Scot—some days he felt like he had been born and bred to do just that. It became simple. Elementary. Like his mother could memorize a recipe, he could memorize the position of arteries; what shot to take at that instant, and which to wait on based only on past missions that resonated like past lives.
But for you…
Oh, it was never supposed to happen to you.
“Are you alright?” Johnny breaths, humor gone and left with guilt. 
He feels your lips on his raging pulse and lets his eyes close, content to feel you move against him as your head remains in his neck. Shifting his body into a more comfortable position, he cages you in protectively. Never again would he allow this to happen.
“I shot someone.” The man’s lips quivered, heart hurting at the blatant shock in your voice. It hadn’t hit you yet, and, hell, Johnny still remembered his first kill like it was yesterday. It wouldn’t be good when all this calmed down. He’d thrown up for two days straight, himself.
“Aye.” He breathes.
“His blood’s all over the house.”
“It is.”
“Is…is that,” you’re shivering, so he massages your spine soothingly until you find the words. “Is that a good thing?” 
He should say no, tell you that the situation that you’d been put in was never supposed to happen and it was just an unfortunate reality. Death wasn’t a good thing, per se. But the man had broken into your shared home—busted down the bedroom door with the intent of using you as a bargaining chip to get to him. So, to the Scot, the answer is clear.
No one messed with his family and lived.
“Yes.” Taking down the air of a dusty alleyway as sirens wail a street over, you weren't surprised that your boyfriend had managed to get to your home far faster than the police could. He said he always would, didn’t he? 
The bills for the speeding tickets and the running of red lights were going to be atrocious.
“Okay.” Your answer is muttered as you peel back, pressing a kiss to the corner of Johnny’s lips. You believed him. Always would. “Thank you.” 
“Don’t thank me.” His bright teeth show off a smile as your mirror. He kisses you heavily on the lips. Whispers against your lips, a promise. A vow. “As long as you put up with me, I��ll always keep you safe.”
“Soap,” Price yells, snapping the two of you out of it. “Get on with it!” 
The Scot raises a shocked brow and smirks down at you as you tilt your head and listen in happy confusion. 
“Y’know, those shots weren't half bad back there. ‘Specially after takin’ a tumble into the flowers.” Your expression freezes in denial as you’re lifted bridal style into the air. Speaking over the calls of police and firemen as they come to the scene, your voice monotones as your legs swing.
“...I missed two out of the three, you dork. That’s failing.” Johnny gapes in mock surprise and you refrain from snorting at the boyish glint in his eyes.
“Jesus, is it really? Hell, you’ll be comin’ for my job in no time, won’t ya? That’s one better than me!” 
You kiss him and feel the grunt through your lips.
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babydollmarauders · 1 year ago
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WELCOME TO THE WORLD — JACK HUGHES
summary: in which Jack and y/n (lovie) announce Elio’s birth
part of the el!hughes au
y/n.hughes
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liked by nhl, trevorzegras and 742,893 others
y/n.hughes our sweet baby boy, Elio Quintin Hughes, was welcomed into the world on April 16th at 4:43am, and we couldn’t be more in love
El is absolutely obsessed with “her” baby Leo, and we’re so excited to share the news of our blessing 🤍
tagged jackhughes
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jackhughes so incredibly in love with you and our two angels
y/n.hughes and we love you back with all our hearts <3
colecaufield look at my god baby 🥺 boarding my flight right now! i can’t wait to snuggle him!
y/n.hughes get here quick! trevor is still trying to convince us that we should name him godfather!
colecaufield @/trevorzegras THAT’S NOT FAIR! YOU GOT THE LAST ONE!
trevorzegras YEAH AND NOW I SAW THIS ONE AND I WANT HIM TOO!! SUCK IT COCKFIELD!
y/n.hughes these are MY children. you know that, right? it’s important to me that you know that.
nhl welcome to the newest Hughes! congratulations 💙
_quinnhughes i’m so honored and feel so loved 🩵 i love all 4 of you
jackhughes but… me a little more than lovie because i’m your brother, right?
_quinnhughes sure bud
y/n.hughes i’m so grateful for you and your big heart <3
trevorzegras i’m taking him home with me, he’s mine now
y/n.hughes how about you settle for cuddles?
trevorzegras eh, i guess cuddles will work
dawson1417 the cutest baby! congrats!!
jackhughes
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jackhughes Elio Quintin Hughes- April 16th, 4:43am
my wife is a badass. plain and simple. not only because she pushed out our two beautiful children, but because she’s the strongest person i know. she’s been through hell in her life, and she only ever comes out stronger and wiser. but playing a large part in not only getting us together, but also being someone Lovie can turn to, and always being there for her, is my big brother Quinn. so we wanted to show thanks to him in the best way we knew how: naming our son after him.
tagged y/n.hughes
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lhughes_06 i’ll be shown thanks next, right?
jackhughes for what? being lovie’s first child and being babied by her? no thanks
y/n.hughes leave my son alone, jack!
y/n.hughes i’m so grateful for you, quinn, and the whole Hughes family <3 i don’t know where i would be without you all, and i don’t WANT to know
jackhughes i love you so much, lovie
njdevils welcome to the team, Elio! congratulations Jack and y/n! ❤️
_alexturcotte he’s so cute, J! you guys make some adorable babies!
_alexturcotte now make another, i want MY god baby!
y/n.hughes IT’S BEEN 2 DAYS! i am NOT making another baby yet!
_alexturcotte you hate me
y/n.hughes give me 2 YEARS and then maybe we can talk!
nicohischier he’s beautiful 🩵 congratulations!
jackhughes thanks cap! i’ll text the team about meeting him tomorrow!
john.marino97 he’s precious! can’t wait to meet him!
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marlynnofmany · 10 months ago
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Fun and Dangers with Hovercycles
When the spaceship is grounded for a mechanical checkup that most of the crew helps with, but your knowledge of alien tech is limited to “That button means go, right?” then there’s not much to do. I’d been stuck with cleaning duty on other similar overhauls, which was fair enough. But it sucked. So I was delighted today to find that Mur was giving the hovercycle a once-over in the cargo bay, and didn’t mind letting me help.
“Is it hard to ride?” I asked while he shone a flashlight into the fuel tank, standing on the tips of his tentacles to get a good look. “I’ve never actually gotten to.”
“I wouldn’t say so,” he replied. “The balancing function is top-notch, and the brakes are reliable.”
Paint sorted through the toolbox, organizing wrenches and whatever. “It’s a little high off the ground for my taste.” She craned her lizardy neck to look up at me. “But that may not bother you.”
“Probably not,” I said with a smile. “Can I try it? There’s never been a good chance before. It’s always in storage unless we need it for some rush delivery on the far side of a space station.”
Mur sighed and clicked off the light. “Yeah, and that’s usually my job these days. Mimi is a great rider, but he’s usually busy, and Coals is respectable but doesn’t like to…”
“I don’t like to either!” Paint exclaimed, holding a scaly hand to her chest. “He always has a better excuse!”
“Why don’t you like to?” I asked.
“Too fast, dangerous.” Paint shook her head. “I don’t like the pressure of urgent deliveries when a minor distraction could leave me and the package smeared across the scenery.”
“Okay, fair,” I said.
“It’s not that dangerous,” Mur said. “It won’t tip over, and the brakes have an impact sensor.”
“It feels that dangerous!” Paint insisted, lashing her tail and looking away.
I said, “I guess you can’t really drive slower without being late, huh?”
“Oh, some deliveries have plenty of time. But it’s still too high off the ground.”
“Can I try?” I asked again. “It really doesn’t sound that scary to me.”
“Sure, why not.” Mur tightened the fuel cap and consulted the checklist. “We’re almost done here.”
The rest of the checklist was quick. I helped by holding things and occasionally reaching with my long human arms, while Paint was in charge of the toolbox and unscrewing things with her claws.
“Annnd done!” Mur said as he finished the checklist with a flourish. “Let’s take it outside where you won’t crash into a wall.”
“I thought you said there were impact sensors for that,” I reminded him as he clambered into the seat.
“Eh, they’re not perfect.”
Paint hit the controls for the bay door, toolbox already set aside, and I followed as the hovercycle whirred quietly out onto the alien landing pad.
I reflected that this really was an ideal place to practice riding. Only a couple other ships were parked at the moment, some distance away, and the settlement was set far enough back that people wouldn’t be bothered by the noise and whatnot of landing spaceships. Everything else around us was dry, rolling ground, with hills in the distance and not so much as a cactus to dodge around.
“You twist this to go forward,” Mur said. “Turn it the other way for backward, or just a little to slow down. It’s pretty intuitive once you’re moving.”
“Just don’t twist it too far!” Paint said. “It can go really fast!”
“Right, I’ll be careful,” I said. “Do I steer by leaning or turning the handlebars?”
Mur gave me a few more pointers on the basics, with Paint adding cautionary tips, and soon enough they let me get on. It wasn’t really human-shaped like an Earth bike, but it was close.
“Okay, so I’ll just aim to go over that way, then circle back,” I said. “This way for forward, this way for backward?”
“Right,” Mur said, tentacle-walking up onto the ramp.
“Start gently!” Paint said as she scampered up beside him.
“Got it.” The motor was already on and burbling away, so I held on tight and gave the throttle a minuscule twist. The bike scooted forward.
With Mur and Paint offering encouragement behind me, I eased it out across the smooth ground with no trouble, giving a couple experimental leans to get a feel for the auto-balancing mechanism. It really was good. Then I sped up a little, and was honestly impressed with the stabilizing gyros or whatever. Even on sharp turns, I didn’t feel like I was in danger of being thrown off or skidding out of control, which was pretty great. I still had a traumatizing memory of bike-riding as a kid and running over a tin can that slid out from under me. But there would be no scraped-up arms today! This hoverbike knew what it was doing. I gave it some proper speed.
I zoomed over a couple low hills, laughing at the change in pitch while the hover engines adjusted to catching air. I spun in tight circles and a gradual curve, leaving a faint trail of dust behind me where the wind of my passing had kicked it up.
Then I got a look back at my coworkers on the ship’s ramp, and they were waving their hands urgently. I straightened out and looked around in alarm; was some local beastie or natural disaster right behind me?
Nope. Not unless it was invisible. Which I wasn’t ruling out.
I powered back toward the ship, worried now, and braked to a stop that felt pretty darn perfect for my first time out.
“ARE YOU OKAY?” Paint yelled, rushing over.
“Yeah, why?” I looked behind myself again.
“Wait, you weren’t out of control?” Mur demanded. “You were going that fast on purpose?”
“Uh, yeah? Should I not have?” I took in their worried faces. “It felt pretty safe. You’re right about the balance; that’s great.”
“WHAT?” Paint exclaimed while Mur laughed. “Why would you go that fast on purpose?”
“It’s fun?” I asked, shrugging. “I really didn’t think it was that big a deal. Do neither of you like going fast ever? I mean I can understand not wanting to worry about getting an urgent delivery there on time, but what about casual joyriding?”
The way Paint was sputtering for an answer and Mur wasn’t even trying to come up with one told me I’d stumbled into another unexpected bit of culture clash.
Paint finally settled on, “No, that is terrifying!”
Mur straightened up from where he’d collapsed into a puddle of tentacles and helpless laughter. “I’ve been doing all the time-crunch bike deliveries because I can hold on best! You’re doing the next one.”
“Okay,” I said, smiling a bit myself. “You know I thought you were trying to tell me there was something chasing me, right?”
Paint covered her eyes. “I can’t believe you flew over that big hill deliberately.”
“Oh, that was great!” I said. “I want to do that again. Can I?”
Paint spun to walk back up the ramp. “Have fun! I’ll tell whoever’s in the cockpit not to call for bandages unless you ask.”
Mur told her, “You should probably tell the captain about the roster change too.”
“On it!”
“Thanks,” I said. When Mur waved me forward, I zoomed back out into the desert for more joyriding. It really was fun. I made sure not to do anything reckless like standing up during a jump, as much as I wanted to. The crew in the cockpit was probably worried enough already.
I looked forward to the next urgent delivery, though.
~~~
The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!
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dark-frosted-heart · 2 months ago
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Melted by Summer's Lust - Roger Barel (Epilogue)
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As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.
NSFW, MINORS DNI
This is all just sex
After holding back for 4 days, we were finally able to touch each other on the 5th night.
Our entwined legs held us together and we held each other’s hands tightly—we made love until we were satisfied.
We went at it like animals in heat, making a mess of the sheets.
Kate: Ah…
As I caught my breath, sweat dripped from Roger’s body down onto mine.
Roger: …Sorry.
Kate: No…I’m the same. It’s a sweltering night. It’s so hot…
I felt hot and sticky, not just from what we did, but also because of the heat and humidity.
Roger: …Then how about we go somewhere cooler?
The moment he said that, Roger lifted me up—with the two of us still connected of course.
Kate: …?! Ah…Roger, don’t…walk…!
Every step Roger took jolted my body and sent pleasure through me.
Roger: It’s just a couple steps away.
Kate: …Eh…?
Roger took me out to the balcony.
The night breeze was definitely better than the heat indoors, but…
Kate: R-Roger…! We’re outside…!
Roger: There’s no one else but us here, so it doesn’t matter.
Kate: Ah…!
Roger suddenly lowered me onto the balcony and pulled out.
The movement made me cry out.
Roger: …See, there’s no one around to hear you moan like that.
Kate: Then…I’ll make an exception this time.
Roger: …Glad you understand. That’s expected from my dog-assistant-partner-lover.
Roger happily untied the strings of my clothes.
My breasts spilled out, exposing them to the midsummer night air.
Roger: A~ah. They’re so hard…We did a lot of kissing and stuff, but I didn’t get to play with your tits much.
His large hands cupped and played with my breasts.
It felt good, but an impatient heat gathered within me…It was frustrating.
Kate: …Roger…Don’t tease me…
Roger: Use your words.
Kate: Please…touch my nipples…
Roger: You want me to just touch them?
Kate: Nngh~~L-lick them…please.
When I begged the bully that was Roger, who wanted to hear me say what I wanted each time, his eyes softened.
Roger: …Well done.
Kate: Nnn, haaa…
His fingers pinched and flicked my nipples mischievously. I felt myself getting wetter at the long-awaited pleasure.
After teasing me for a while, they started tingling and then Roger enveloped a nipple with his mouth.
Kate: Ah, ahhh…!
Lips wrapped around me, he sucked and played with my nipple with his tongue—I soon came just from him playing with my breasts.
Roger held me up as I was just about to collapse.
Roger: You okay?
Kate: Y-yeah……ah.
Roger looked at me in confusion when he heard me moan.
Roger: …Are you doing anything right now?
Kate: I was shocked…by the cold night air against where you just licked.
(Probably because it’s wet and I’m sensitive…)
Roger: …Oh?
(Ah…That’s a mischievous look on Roger’s face)
He definitely thought of some weird idea and I instinctively wanted to get away, but…
Roger held me around my waist and pulled down my skirt, preventing me from escaping.
Kate: …!
Because I wasn’t wearing underwear, the night breeze touched my core directly.
Even if I didn’t want it to, the cold feeling made me realize just how wet I was.
This clear reminder that we were doing something so lewd outside made me feel so embarrassed. However—
Roger: Kate.
Just saying my name once would make me want to do whatever he desired…Love was a troubling thing.
I held onto the balcony railing and Roger grabbed my waist from behind.
We already did it so many times that my body was more than ready to accept him, no foreplay needed.
Kate: Haaa…ahhh…!
Roger: Gh…
Roger tightened his grip around my waist as he went deeper, before he started thrusting roughly.
I could tell that Roger couldn’t keep his cool as he was rougher than usual.
Kate: Hyaa…! Ahh, aaahhhh…!
Roger: Ha…You sound so cute…Let me hear more of it…Kate.
Kate: Aaahhh…!
He reached down and rubbed a favorite spot—my vision went white.
Kate: Haa…haa….
Roger: Gh…If I get careless…it won’t be good for me…
Kate: Nnn…You can afford to, but…
Roger: You understand…look.
When Roger smiled and slowly rolled his hips, I realized that he was inside me and showed now signs of pulling out.
I felt embarrassed, but more importantly…I was glad that we felt the same way.
Kate: Hey, Roger. Let’s do it one more time…This time while looking at each other.
Roger: If you want…then wrap your arms around my neck.
As he said that, he picked me up. We were back in the same position we were when he stepped out onto the balcony.
Roger: Mm…Now we can look at each other.
Kate: B-but…you can’t possibly keep holding me up…
Roger: …You underestimating my strength?
Laughing at the provocation, Roger grabbed my butt and bounced me up and down.
Kate: Ahh…Nnnn…!
The pleasure was never-ending with the way he thrusted in and out while our bodies were so close together.
I flailed my legs in an attempt to endure the pleasure, but it was useless as he held me up.
(Ah…What can I do in this position…)
When I came to a realization, Roger’s intense amber gaze met mine.
Roger: Ha…You just noticed? With this position, you can’t get away unless I let you…
Kate: Y-you bully…Aaaahhh…!
Roger: Your fault for being so cute…I won’t let you get away anymore.
With his lust-soaked gaze, Roger licked the tears that gathered at the corners of my eyes.
After I was driven to a corner the past four days like prey, I got caught in the egoistic hunter’s sweet trap and couldn’t escape anymore.
—Within our paradise, we made love and melted into each other the point where you couldn’t tell where one of us started and the other ended.
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piss-pumpkin · 11 months ago
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🌹“Just as friends”🌹
(Older)Dipper pines x reader, Chapter 3 of Douce amere
~4.5k words
Prev Masterlist
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Tw for those who need it- food/eating, several awful sex jokes 💀
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You jolted awake. Pacifica’s alarm was loud, and she did not silence it soon enough. She rolled out of bed beside you, falling to the floor before standing up. “Food?”
You rubbed your eyes, “Got an extra tooth brush?”
”Yeah,” she muttered, voice hoarse. “Then food.”
                                           …
Pacifica led you to the main foyer, where housekeepers and maids were setting up tables. Some held food, others simply face table cloths for people to mingle at. 
“And you lied to me and said this was small and unimpressive,” you said, staring in wonder at the scene. There was a rather large dessert table, complete with a chocolate fountain and strawberries on sticks.
”Yeah, whatever I guess. It’s a little big if you aren’t used to better.” Pacifica showed you to the kitchen, where a cake of at least five layers was sat, completely iced in orange and pink frosting. “Anyway, there’s breakfast if you want it,” she said, grabbing a bowl from the cupboard. “Are you a morning eater?”
You yawned, “Eh, I can be. What do you got?”
She opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of strawberries, and started to wash them. “Pretty much everything,” she said, pouring her berries into the bowl.
You squinted. It was far to early to think about what you could possibly want, if anything. “I’ll just have what you’re having, I guess.”
Pacifica poured the other half of the strawberries into a second bowl, and handed it to you. “Let’s get out of here, it’s too busy.”
You started back upstairs with her to her room, trying not to get in the way of preparation. As you walked, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out as you ascended the stairs, you saw it was Dipper. You smiled. 
“Dip is asking the dress code, he apparently didn’t bring anything fancy,” you laughed. “He wants to know if he can just wear his normal clothes.”
Pacifica smirked, “he can’t be serious, right?” She flopped onto her bed, and held the bowl of strawberries by her chest. 
You followed behind, and sat down with her. “Man, you know he’s fucking serious,” you said, looking down at your phone and beginning to make fun of him over text.
”Well tell him we’ll supply him with something, I guess,” she said, looking at her closet. “You know I have guy clothes.”
You looked down and idly typed the message. “We’re making him wear a suit right?”
Pacifica smiled, “Yep. Tux, I think. probably bow tie?”
”I was thinking regular tie, I feel like that’s a better look.”
Pcifica thought a moment, and popped a strawberry in her mouth. “I dunno… maybe you’re right,” she pondered. “We could make him try both and decide which is better?”
You nodded, “sounds good.” You ate a strawberry. Quite sweet. You let the leafy tops collect at one side of the bowl. “So do you still like… like him?”
Pacifica looked up, “I mean… kind of. The same way i would after not seeing him in person for like, a year.” She pursed her lips, as if straining her mind for the thought. “I dunno. I think about him less when he’s away. But the feeling is still there, kind of?”
You nodded. Her feelings were a little different then yours, but the same sentiment. 
“What about you, you still-“
”Yep. Awful, too,” you shook your head, eating another strawberry. You squinted your eyes, and sucked a breath in through your teeth, “I am absolutely down bad.”
“My condolences,” Pacifica sighed. “We’ve all been there
You laughed, “At least we agree he’ll look really cute in a suit.”
Pacifica threw her head back on the pillow. “Ugh, right? We gotta dress his ass up.”
You smiled, “I’m also curious about what Mabel is doing, I think she is making her own dress.” You plucked your last strawberry off its stem. “I think she made it in like, a night. She could be cooking.”
”Or it could be a disaster, and we have to find her a last minute dress.”
”That is an equal possibility, I think.”
                                             …
Pacifica and yourself were waiting by the door as the party was starting. There were people, standing, mingling. Nobody interesting, not yet. Though by the way Pacifica was talking, you weren’t sure there was anyone interesting on the roster besides you and the twins. 
Much to both of your surprise, Mabel’s dress was fine. Good, even, shocking as it was. She came in first, wearing a blue dress with a shocking amount of sequins  for how little time it took. 
Dipper followed behind his sister, dressed in nothing fancy, and looking rather out of place among the few guests that had arrived this early. You and Pacifica waved the pair over. Mabel bounced closer, running ahead of Dipper and greeting you both with a wide smile, “Wow, you guys look amazing!”
You pumped your fists in the air with excitement. “You too, I can’t believe you made that!” you exclaimed, looking her dress up and down. “You’re insane!”
Mabel giggled, and twirled in a small circle, letting her skirt lift and spin. “Just insane enough,” she laughed.
Pacifica snickered, “That’s highly debatable.”
Just as Mabel was about to retort, Dipper came up beside her, and leaned his arm on her shoulder. “It’s true Mabel, she’s right.”
Pacifica eyed up Dipper, “Yeah, Dip, hopefully you know you’re not going to be wearing that, right?”
Dipper sighed, “yeah, I know, I know.”
Pacifica looked to you, “We take him to get changed before the rest of the guests arrive?”
You nodded. 
Mabel laughed, and hit Dipper on the back. “Alright, you go get prettied up, bro.” She smacked him once more before bouncing off of him, “I’m gonna get punch, and get a date.” With that she was off, as Dipper was giving her a mildly annoyed look. 
You and Pacifica led him to the back, where Pacifica handed him a hanger with his clothes. “Okay,” she looked to you, “Y/n, help him if he needs it, change room is on the right, and I need to go greet people.”
You nodded, “Godspeed.”
”And good luck,” Dipper added.
And then you were alone with your just as friends date. “Alright, you get ready, there’s a tie and a bow tie, too, your pick.”
Dipper entered the change room, and closed the curtain behind him. “Mmmk,” he said. 
You leaned on a wall, waiting. “Did you read ahead without me, last night?” you asked, idly looking around.
”No, actually, I wasn’t sure if we were reading it together, so I played it safe,” he said though the curtain. You could hear faint rustling sounds from the other side. “Are we?”
You nodded, despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, “Yeah, it’s book club.” You straightened your back against the wall, and tapped your foot on the ground. “Thanks for waiting for me,” you smiled, “Also hurry up.”
”I am hurrying.”
You laughed, shaking your head, “This is not was hurrying looks like.”
You heard faint grumbling from him before Dipper emerged from the change room in a suit. With a black tie. The one you had chosen… but he didn’t know that. You smiled, “Well, you look good, all fancy like.” 
He adjusted the sleeves and fiddled with the cuffs. “Uh- thanks,” he said, smiling softly. He closed the curtain behind him, and looked away from you, to the floor. “Y-you too, I forgot to mention earlier…”
You raised your brow, smiling. He was still looking at the floor away from you, so you moved in front of him, and leaned over slightly, forcing him to see you. “Why thank you,” you snickered. “I better look good, it took Pacifica all night to style me.”
Dipper stepped back slightly, face pinkish. “I assume she’s responsible for this, too?” he said, gesturing at his own clothes.
You stood back up tall, “I want to say you were a team effort, actually.” You took his wrist in your hand, and turned it over so you could see the sleeve. “The cuff links were my pick,” you said, tapping them. “Same with the tie”
Dipper instinctively moved is hand to his chest, and thumbed over the tie. “Well chosen, it’s really soft,” he said. 
You smiled, spinning away from him and offering your hand. “I’m actually surprised you were able to tie it without help, I was ready to call Pacifica in to do it for you.”
Dipper took your hand, and gave it a slight squeeze. “I actually looked it up while I was in there,” he laughed, pulling your hand closer to him, and linking your arms. 
You both started out to the main room, “God, that’s why you took so long in there?” you asked. You came to the foyer, which was now filled with a substantial amount of people, and you knew even more were set to come. 
“Wow, lots of people…” Dipper said, trailing off. “Where did Mabel and Pacifica go?”
You looked around, taking in the scene. The tables you’d seen the staff setting up before were now filled with food, or set with chairs for dining and mingling. Gentle orchestral and piano music was playing, and several people were dancing a waltz. “Pacifica is gonna be busy for a while, she has to socialize,” you said, scanning the room for your friends. “And it appears Mabel had been lost to the party.”
Dipper sighed, shaking his head. “Of course she is, we’re not gonna see her for a while, are we.”
”No we will not,” you said, walking with him along the edge of the room. “I bet she’s looking for somebody to dance with,” you pondered. “Hey, we should dance.”
Dipper looked at you, curiously. “Y/n, neither of us know how to waltz.”
You took Dippers hand, gliding your fingers up his palm before lacing them together. “Come on, it can’t be that hard, right?” 
His hand was sweaty, and his face was slightly red. “Y/n, I think you are seriously underestimating my awkwardness,” he said. Despite it, he let you lead him to the floor, where people were dancing in step.
”I’m sure your fine, nobody really knows how to dance,” you laughed. 
Dipper closed his eyes and shook his head, curling his face into a perplexed expression when he opened them. “What the actual fuck do you mean?” He used his head to gesture around the room. “Literally everyone here knows how to dance, that is what they are all dancing.”
You sighed, still smiling. “Come on, all you need is rhythm, I think.” You placed his hand on your waist, and your in his shoulder. “I think this is how it goes, yeah?” You looked around, scanning the other dancers in the room. They were mostly adults and old people, all of whom looked rich. But they did have the same positioning as you. “Yeah, I think we’ve got this.”
”Y/n, I have no rhythm,” he said. You could feel the warmth from his palm on your hip. It was light too, like he was afraid of putting the weight of his hand on you. “Plus this is a rich old person song.” He was stiff, as if his knees were locked. The hand you still held was shaky, the vessel for his anxious movements. You rubbed your thumb over his to try and calm him. Or at least offer some courage.
“Then let me lead,” you said softly. You started to move, and pull him along to the music. You looked around and tried to mimic the dancing of others. “Hey, this isn’t that bad, you’re fine.” 
He was still apprehensive, stiff. “I, uh-“ he almost tripped, stepping on your foot. “Sorry.”
You shook you head, “Don’t be, probably my fault,”  You smiled a moment, “you see, not so hard.”
“Not what your mom was saying last night,” he spat quickly.
You shook your head, hiding your tired smile. “Just couldn’t resist, huh?” You said, gliding across the room, still leading. You saw an old man dip his partner, and gained an idea. 
As you led Dipper, you started to take more control. You knew if you tried to dip him out of the blue, he’d resist. You wouldn’t be able to. Unless…
You moved toward the edge of the dance floor, in case it went wrong, and to both fell on the ground. As you did, you stood straight up and tall, and swept the leg.
”Augh-“ Dipper tried to form a word, but was too late. You swept one leg, leaving him vulnerable to be pushed down with the free, non catching hand. As he fell, that hand slipped under his back to stop him before he hit the ground.
You smirked down at him, holding him there for a moment before pulling him up. 
His eyes were wide, and face slightly red. Though that could have been from fear. “You realize my life just flashed before my eyes, right?” He blinked a few times, as if reacquainting himself with standing. 
You started again to the centre. “Whaaaat?” you laughed. Across the floor you saw another move, a spin this time. 
Dipper noticed too though, and followed your eyes across the room, landing in the same couple. “Oh, don’t even thing about it.”
You snickered, “you know me too well.” You still intended to do it. As you subtly moved your hands across his to reposition to spin him, he caught you off guard. He must have been watching the motion of the dancers too, because he threw his arm out to try and spin you. Unlike you, he didn’t have the tactical skill to force the spin, like you did the dip, but you were one to play the game. As he led you, you spun out, then back in close, placing your chest nearly against his. “Hey, man’s got moves!”
”Heh, thanks,” he stuttered, intensely aware of the new closeness.
You were aware of it too. You smirked, almost feeling the heat from his face. Your hands glided smoothly away from his and to the back of his neck, where you laced your fingers together. “And you were worried,” you smiled. 
He was looking at you with wide eyes, and slightly parted lips. They caught your attention, your gaze flickering from his big brown eyes down to his slightly pink lips. Fuck, you were not subtle today. Dipper swallowed, “Yeah… nothing to worry about. You wouldn’t let me fall.”
You snickered, “Oh, I’d let you fall, alright.” You looked at him with an almost shit eating grin. A pun-smile, so to speak. “Get it, it has a double meaning.”
Dipper flushed. “Uh, I mean-“
You were blushing too, you could feel it. To close. To much, to hard. You backed out, pulling away from his chest. ”Or maybe it just means I’ll do this,” you say, sweeping his leg again and barely catching him on the way down. He let out a startled sound again, having been caught only inches from the floor. Just as you were leaned over him, about to pull him up, you let him fall to the floor. “Like that.”
Dipper grumbled, laying with his back on the ground for a moment, as if in protest. “You know,” he started, exasperated. The blush wasn’t completely faded from his face, but it was close.
As he moved to get up, you put a hand out in front of him to help him. He looked at it a moment with pursed lips before taking it. You pulled him up. “But hey, who could ever resist falling in love with me,” you said, punctuating your claim by putting your hand beneath your chin to frame your face.
“Literally nobody, you’re so effortlessly charming,” he said, sarcastically. He took your hand again, and pulled you close to his chest like before, and started to dance again. Looks like you got through to him? Or he’s humouring you. Either way. You moved your feet with his, letting him lead. It didn’t seem like he even realized it was you following him now.
You shrugged, “Hey, your words.” Your hands found their way back to his neck. You felt the brush of his hair on your fingers, and lingered on the feeling. His hair was soft.
“Are they really though?”
”That doesn’t even make sense, Dippin dots,” you shook your head. 
Dippers face flattened, “oops,” he said, stepping on your foot. 
“Hey!” you exclaimed playfully. 
“Deserved,” Dipper sighed. The song ended. Come to think of it, it wasn’t the song you started on.
“Those are fighting words, Dipstick.” You thought for a moment as Dipper led you along the floor. He wasn’t all that bad at this. “I could…” you hesitated, and laughed at yourself as you said it. “Pull your hair, or something,” you said, fingers trailing up his neck to brush against his locks. Smooth.
Dipper laughed immediately, and then feigned shock and horror. He gasped, “You can’t! What if I cum!”
You stifled a laugh, pulling away, and gut punched him playfully. “Jesus Christ, you are awful. Like downright terrible, that physically hurt me.” You shook your head, and turned away from him to hide your smirk. Fucking terrible.
“Obligatory masochism joke?” He questioned.
You turned back to him, “Nah, that one’s a stretch.”
Dipper shook his head, “You’re just a critic, I swear.” He folded his arms at his chest. “Honestly, your comedy is lacking,” he scoffed with faux condescension. 
You sighed, smiling despite yourself. “Yeah, whatever, you absolute comedian.” You shook your head, looking at the floor to avoid his eyes. You snaked your arm around his, unfolding it from the other, “You can tell me all about how funny you are on the way to the snack table, yeah?”
Dipper easily linked his arm with yours, “Good plan.”
                                              …
You lingered with him near the chocolate fountain, showing dessert strawberries in your mouth. There was no getting sick of strawberries, was there?
”Y/n, Y/n, look over there,” Dipper said, poking you. You followed his eyes, and landed on Mabel across the room, flirting with a rich looking guy. You squinted, trying to read the reaction of the guy. 
“Mabel? What, who is that?” You said, curious.
”What? No,” he said, shaking his head. He pointed this time, and moved your head to direct your eyes in the direction. “Cheese fountain.”
”Cheese fountain?” You asked, unsure where he was going. The phrase cheese fountain did not evoke a good feeling from you. The concept didn’t seem appetizing. 
“Cheese strawberry, I dare you.”
You opened your mouth, in some sort of surprise. “Oh, you bitch, why would you dare me that?”
He snickered, “cuz you‘ll do it.”
You pursed your lips, turning to him, pointing to him with malice. You sighed, “you’re right, I ain’t no pussy, come on.” He smiled, taking your arm again to move tables, a few sticks of strawberries held in his free hand. 
The two of you stopped just short of the table, and stared down the cheese fountain. You almost wanted to out your hand in it, just to feel the texture. You held back though. “Looks kind of gross,” you muttered.
”It sure does,” Dipper said, handing you a skewered strawberry, bowing his head slightly as he did. 
You held the strawberry under the drilling and flowing cheese, drenching it. You weren’t no bitch, despite the fact that the texture was strange. 
“Damn, you’re drowning it,” Dipper commented, watching. 
You stared at the strawberry after you pulled it out. A droplet of thick and slightly warm cheese fell to the floor at your feet. “Only way to go is all in,” you said, about to pop it in your mouth.
You vaguely heard footsteps come closer beside you.  “What are you doing?” Pacifica said, approaching.
”Uhh,” You and Dipper both stammered in unison. You looked down at the cheese berry, then at him. Sharing a moment of contemplating eye contact, you decided to speak first. “Chesee strawberry, any thoughts?”
Pacifica scrunched her face, and receded into herself. “Yeah, just one. Why?”
You wordlessly pointed at Dipper, and you both could see Pacificas face change as she realized it was a rather stupid dare. It changed from mild disgust to a tired disappointment. “Yeah, maybe don’t do that,” Pacifica said, sucking in a breath though her teeth.
Dipper crossed his arms, “Dude, it’s liquid cheese, it’s nasty.”
Pacifica sighed, “Yeah, I know, but the old people like it.” She tilted her head up and looked around the room, scanning the crowd of her parents friends and their children. “Can’t imagine why,” she said. 
You perked up, “Oh speaking of, are you done with your parents friends?”
Pacifica clapped her gloved hands together, “For now, yes!”
You gasped, and leaned over to offer her a hand. “Then may I be the first to offer you a dance,” you said, doing your best impression of a snobbish voice.
She took it, “Why, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She led, much more skillfully then you or Dipper ever did. At the centre of the foyer, she swung you and spun you with a practiced perfection you might envy. 
“You’re good at this,” you said, in slight wonder. 
“I’ve had to go to these parties since I was like, three,” she laughed. “If have to be a good dancer by now.”
You got a few looks from the guests, some of which said a quick hello or happy birthday to Pacifica. She tried to keep it brief, not even slowly the dance to speak with them. 
As you were gliding around the floor, she looked back to the food table. ”So, do I have your blessing to dance with Dip?” she asked coyly.
You laughed, “yeah, of course. I’ll tag him in soon.” You may be his just as friends date, and have feeling for him, but you wouldn’t be a bitch about it. Who were you to try and stop her? You were friends with both of them first and foremost. “I should probably find Mabel anyway, make sure she’s not being weird to anyone.”
Pacifica snickered, “I’m almost a hundred percent sure your late on that, I can feel it.”
”There’s no harm in trying though, yeah?” You said, gliding closer to where Dipper was collecting snacks on his plate like he was a starving man on death row getting his last meal. You waved at him to try and catch his attention, “Dipshit! Tag in for me!” you called. 
He looked over, holding a bun in his mouth. You could see his expression fall slightly, reliving his hesitancy to dance from earlier. 
You got closer with Pacifica, so nobody had to yell. Pacifica let go of your hands, and stopping in front of him. “Come on, I actually know how to dance, and won’t let you make a fool of yourself.”
Dipper snickered, and nudged you slightly. “You’ll let me keep my dignity? Y/n could learn something from you,” he said, taking her hand. 
You smiled, “hey, I didn’t do you that bad, did I?”
“Ehhhh,” he said, squinting. “Up for debate, I think.”
”Yeah, whatever nerd,” you laughed. You snapped a finger gun at the two of them before they moved away from you. Off to find Mabel.
Unsurprisingly, she was trying to flirt. You found her trying to kabedon a rich looking guy about your age. She didn’t see you as you approached, but he did, and made pleading eye contact with you. Yikes.
You scrunched your face, and shook your head. You leaned on the same wall as the guy, and looked to Mabel. “May I cut in for a dance?”
Mabel squinted, “with whom?”
You bowed, and offered a hand, “The lovely lady, of course.”
She gasped, “Why, I’m enchanted.” She spoke in a posh British accent, “of course, I’d love that.”
She released the guy and took your hand. You glanced to the fleeing rich dude, who offered you a nod of thanks. You nodded back, happy to save him. Gliding to the dance floor with her, you sighed, “Girlie, he was not into you.”
”I think he was warming up,” she said, leading the dance. 
“Dude, you gotta learn some boundaries.”
She pursed her lips, “Are you sure he wasn’t into me?”
You laughed, “dude, yes. He looked terrified.”
                                             …
The party went on. Cake was cut, dances were had, as it stretched deeper into the night, the music shifted from waltzing classics to more current songs. Songs you could actually dance to, competently this time, with Mabel by your side immediately, Pacifica quick to follow, and Dipper reluctant to join. But you made him. And he danced endearingly awkwardly, much worse without the clear and define steps of a waltz to guide him.
And unfortunately, despite what you felt in the moment, the party did eventually end. When it was just you and your friends left, and you all crashed. 
And in the early afternoon when you all woke, you, Mabel and Dipper did not want to stay and help clean up. Pacifica was quite understanding. 
And so, you were started home. The instructions Stan gave you were simply to borrow a car and drive the twins yourself illegally. He was a great driving instructor. So you loaded them into the car, drove them to the shack.
”You coming?” Dipper asked, seeing how you weren’t getting out after you pulled in.
“Fuck no,” you laughed, “I’m taking a nap at home man.”
A flicker of disappointment crossed his face. He looked back at the door Mabel already disappeared through, then back to you. “Then do you want the book club book, so you can catch up before we read next?”
You smiled, “yeah, actually. I think context might help my understanding.”
”Okay, hold on, I’ll grab it from my room,” he said, starting to the shack. “Don’t go anywhere.” You leaned back in the seat, and waited. Soon enough Dipper was scurrying back out, book in hand.  “Alright, here, now we’ll be on the same level,” he said, leaning against the open car window.
”And this is a series?”
Dipper nodded.
”Then I’m excited for book club going forward,” you said, yawning. “Anyway, I’m fucking off, see you later?”
Dipper waved slightly, pushing himself off the car, “Alright, see ya.”
You blew a kiss at him, making an exaggerated mwah sound while winking. He shook his head, hiding a smile as you drove off.  
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Next chapter
Man I wrote this in like March it’s weird looking at it again.
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shares-a-vest · 8 months ago
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@flufftober Spring Edition Day 4: "Let me take care of you..."
wc: 454 | Rated: T | cw: Descriptions of migarine symptoms
Tags: Steve Has a Migraine, Steddie Dads (Eddie isn't present in this ficlet)
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'Joanie Munson, M.d'
Steve only just manages to set down Joanie’s crustless peanut butter and jelly sandwich before his speckly vision fails him completely.
“Shit,” he mutters, removing his glasses.
He presses the pads of his fingers between his brows, but the move does nothing to alleviate the growing throbbing pain in his head.
“What’s wrong?” Joanie asks with great curiosity as she noisily picks the plate up – creating a sound like shattering glass.
“Nothing, munchkin,” he lies, sucking in a breath as he thinks about his next steps so he can make a beeline for the couch, “You just eat your sandwich.”
“What about yours?” Joanie queries, a frown evident in her distant voice as Steve reaches the safe haven of the couch.
“... I’ll eat later,” he snips, palming for the armrest to help lower himself to a seated position.
It provides a momentary relief. That is until Steve realises he should probably close the curtains and turn the television off, making for a dark and dreary afternoon for his four-year-old.
He closes his eyes, willing away the (relatively mild, for him) migraine when the other end of the couch sinks a little. There is a punching of pillows and some squirming, accompanied by a series of disgruntled little “eh’s”, as Joanie likely attempts to join Steve on the couch while precariously balancing her sandwich on its designated pink and starry plate.
“Joanie…” he huffs, reaching deep into his gut for an ounce of patience, “We just need to be quiet for a bit.”
He hates bargaining with the kid but… well, his brain feels like it might explode out of his – now buzzing – ears.
“Is your head hurting?” his daughter asks, her voice thoughtful and soft.
The couch dips again and Steve hears a pitter-patter before a silence falls over the living room. A silence that lasts for a moment too long and Steve panics, forcing one eye open.
He catches a glimpse of Joanie through his now blurry rather-than-dotted vision. She stands in the hall, fumbling with her unmistakable screaming-red doctor’s kit, appearing careful not to make a noise.
Steve’s heart swells as his daughter returns to the couch, seemingly finding what she was looking for.
“Let me take care of you,” she nods with a level of seriousness that matches Eddie’s in this kind of situation.
She holds up her toy stethoscope and loops it around her neck.
Steve holds out his arms, withstanding the momentary discomfort it takes to get his sweet daughter into his arms.
“I’ll be okay in a minute, Joans,” he assures, closing his eyes again.
“Dad will be home soon,” Joanie whispers, snuggling in so close Steve can feel the calm of her heartbeat.
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icomeandg0 · 1 month ago
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"More than one"
Part 4!
Linked Universe x Reader (s)
Warnings: Confusing, swearing
A/n: Slowly but surely getting there!
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"Order up!"
✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧
Walking through the bustling city the other group wanders the streets. “Are you sure they are located here?” “No clue” LTTPY/n spoke as she continued to walk in front of them. “So do you know where we are going?” Legend asked with a hint of irritation in his voice, can’t blame him though, the poor guy has been on his feet for a while now. “Not exactly, but there could be a surprise around every corner” Legend rolls his eyes at the monotone voice LTTPY/n delivered, “A good or bad surprise?” “Eh, 50 50 I say” The boys all share a glance between them all before Warriors speak up.
“Maybe we should find clues on where they might be-” “A bar.” LTTPY/n says, Four tilts his head,  “A bar? How do you know?” LTTPY/n shrugs and turns to meet them, “Just a hunch” The ring on her finger shone brighter than usual.
“So which bar should we start at? There's probably a lot in this city ""This one” She stands in front of the bar door. ‘Tipsy Teapot’ was the name of the bar. She didn’t hesitate to go inside, “Of course we got put with the loopy one” Legend grumbled earning a very small chuckle from Hyrule.
Inside was very noisy, gruff men were inside sharing life stories while drowning themselves in alcohol. “So what made you think they were here of all places? I can understand…Eh- Nevermind that but a bar?” Warrior raised one brow as LTTPY/n shrugs, “Like I said, a hunch, I can feel their presence” “Oh great, she’s loopy and delusional” Legend muttered as he groaned. “Look, we only agreed to help because the old man told us too, not because we wanted because if I had a choice I wouldn’t be here helping you find your little girl squad!” Legend points at LTTPY/n who only stared at him blankly.
“Hey, Don’t be like that. We’re heroes and it’s our job to help those in need” Warrior says, pushing Legend back a bit to give him space but someone had bumped into him…
“Ooops! Sorry sir! That was on me for not noticing– free drink on me!” She grins and she looked an awful lot like a–
“LOZY/n! I knew you were here!” All the tension left as LTTPY/n walked towards the other Y/n, “Oh HI! It’s been a bit since I’ve seen you, LTTPY/n! Hanging out with a new crowd hm?” LOZY/n asked in a cheery tone, “Haven’t you found the rest of us yet? Why are you with a bunch of boys? This is all so confusing!” LOZY/n non stop yapping about anything that came to mind but she was snapped out when LTTPY/n puts her hands on LOZY/n’s shoulders.
“I need you to listen for just a bit, I’ve come to get you back with the help of…” She glances back at the boys and then back at LOZY/n “Them. Now was there anyone else with you and if so, where is she now?” LOZY/n blinks before smiling, pointing over her shoulder to a curtain that says ‘Gambling addicts!’ 
“Just over that curtain you’ll find FSY/n! Oh–! I got to get back to the orders! I’ll see you around!” LOZY/n pushes past and accidentally bumped into ANOTHER person, Hyrule.
“Oh sorry about…That” LOZY/n eyes widened when she saw Hyrule, Hyrule had flushed cheeks and looked a bit flustered, “It’s fine, really” Hyrule says quietly. LOZY/n giggles and walks past, sparing one more glance over her shoulder and so does Hyrule. Making eye contact before she left to go to the bar.
Only one to witness that was Legend who was giving Hyrule a smug look, “Oh Stop that” Hyrule huffed, Legend was going to tease him a bit more but LTTPY/n spoke up, “You guys coming?” She was already by the curtain with Warriors and Four. Legend shook his head, deadpanning at her “No, we’ll stay here” LTTPY/n only shrugged and went inside, the other two boys following.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
“AURGH!” A big gruff man threw down his cards in frustration, “Hah! That's another win for me, I swear you’re doing this on purpose but since this is your 7th loss…I say you just suck in general” A familiar (H/C) was seen, her back facing them as the big man glared at her. “Awh, Don’t get all pissy over a shitty move you did~ NOW GIVE ME MY MONEY!” She cackled as one of the guys slid down 5 big bags of rupees. She checks every single one until the fifth where it contains rocks.
“HEY! WHAT’S THIS SHIT DOING IN HERE?!” Her mood changes instantly as she rises from her chair and points at the big man, “We had a deal, asshole.” This earned a smirk from the man, “You think I’ll follow your rules, little girl?” He taunts as he snaps his fingers, his guards standing up, they all tower over her.
She growls in frustration knowing that she couldn’t beat them, however her ear flicked when she heard footsteps, she looked back and saw LTTPY/n, Link and someone else equivalent to her Link.
“LTTPY/n? Link? How the hell did you find me?” FSY/n asked, ignoring the other men and focusing solely on the trio behind her.
“Eh, just a h—“ 
“Didn’t expect to see you in this department…imagine what your mami will say about this discovery~” Four grins, he couldn’t help but try to get a rise out of his childhood friend.
FSY/n scoffed.
“Of course, come to pester me, have you? Can’t you see I’m doing adult stuff? Something you aren’t quite experienced in…despite having 4 perspectives” she snapped back at him earning a startled expression and he immediately let out a small strained noise.
Warriors somewhat didn’t pay much attention to it and nor did LTTPY/n, Four gave her a look of ‘don’t say anything and I won’t tell your mother’ FSY/n looks at Warriors before looking back, ‘I want an explanation after, deal.’ She gave him a look and soon Warriors spoke.
“Reunions can come later, we need you to come back with us, we’ll regroup you back to your group and—“ “I don’t give two shits about regrouping, not until I get my money!” She points at the man while a scowl.
“Gosh, are all Y/n’s difficult?” Warriors muttered, “she’s just overly difficult” Four muttered back to him earning a slight noise that could be equivalent to a chuckle from LTTPY/n.
“I don’t have to owe you anything, you’re still a baby, how old are you? 14?” The man laughed gruffly, earning FSY/ns eye twitch in annoyance.
“14–14?! I look 14 to you?! I’ll show you!” FSY/n begins to climb onto the table but Four was quick to his feet and tried to gently pull her down.
“Let go of me, Link” she growled, “Is it really worth it? You already have…4 bags of rupees!” “I need the fifth!” FSY/n says, her hands stretching out and clenching as if she’s trying to choke the man from where she is.
“Lemme at him—Lemme at him!”
Four sighed as he settled her back down and she frowned at Four, “I had it under control, idiot.” She grumbled as Four stood behind her so she wouldn’t do anything rational.
“Link do your job and fight for me” FSY/n demands and Four scoffed.
“Are you done your little squabble? I have real work to attend to” The man says, he claps his hands and his guards collect the bags of rupees, “Whoa—Hey! Those are mine!” FSY/n reaches over and grabs one of the bags.
“Oh let the rupees go, Y/n!” Four says, “over my dead body!” 
The guard however didn’t let his guard down and managed to shove her off, she stumbled back and grumbled, “you selfish bastard!” 
“Once you’re old enough, maybe you’ll understand what real adult stuff is” the man grins, his guards put the bags of rupees in front of him, he nods in approval before looking back up at FSY/n.
FSY/n has a crazed smirk of her own, a vein popping on her forehead, she soon whistled and ducked…a flying tray hits the man square in the face
The curtain flew open for a split second to reveal LOZY/n who grinned and was it the stance of throwing, once the curtain fell down, FSY/n rushed to grab the 4 bags and they all ran off.
“GET THEM!” 
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
The small group of 6 were hiding in the alleyway, FSY/n was sitting on the dumpster counting her rupees “6000 rupees? It’ll do” she grumbled, “I’ll take em if you don’t want them” Legend speaks up, FSY/n snarls “Go make your own money, broke ass!” She snaps.
Between the two they banter more, Four watches over them because Fire and Fire don’t mix well—LTTPY/n and Warriors don’t wanna be here…
LOZY/n hummed a tune as she put her hair up in a tidy ponytail, making sure her bangs cover up her eye…
“Ahem” she turns to meet Hyrule again.
“Oh! It’s you!” She smiles, “Yeah, it’s me…” he says sheepishly, 
“Sorry for bumping into you earlier—“
“I didn’t mean to get in your way before—“ 
The two pause and soon burst into a little giggle fit, “Hehe, I’m Y/n…Like the rest of the other Y/n’s…Just call me LOZY/n” she says softly, “My real name is Link…like the others but just call me Hyrule..” he says, glancing away a bit before looking back at her…
“Augh, love makes me sick.” FSY/n grimaced at the sight of them, “Yeah, I bet you haven’t experienced love before because ain’t no way anyone is loving that attitude” Legend retorts.
“Shut it, asshole.” 
“I mean…there’s nothing wrong with changing up the attitude—“
“You shut up as well.”
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
A/N: Oh gosh I finally finished this chapter in one day, I'm slowly coming back, I just came back from my trip and I still feel as if I'm on a holiday. I had the urge to write this whole time, Honestly I'm thinking about re-write the last one because it was rushed but It will stay similar just hopefully better lol.
Series are nearly done, 2-3 more then we can finally put up a damn ask box!
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charliemwrites · 1 year ago
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Jonny going down on shy thing the first time
He's gotta hold that squirmy baby down for surreee
😈😈 going down you say???? Don’t mind if he does….
It something he has to suggest and gently convince her he’d enjoy doing because she’d never ask. Even tries to tell him that he really doesn’t need to do that for her, he’s already convinced her that he’ll take care of her.
But he chuckles, even blushes a little himself. “Lass, it would be for you, don’t get me wrong…but I’m not asking just outta the goodness of my heart, if you get me.”
It takes her two days to work up the courage to say yes. And she insists on chugging water, eating pineapple, grooming herself, and showering thoroughly before they do anything. She’s still a little convinced that he’s doing this just for her benefit.
He starts her off slow as always with long, deep kisses and gentle wandering hands. Waits until she’s starting to relax into the familiar rhythms before easing forward with their plans. Hes trying not to go too fast, but his mouth is watering at the thought of tasting her. He keeps having to backtrack to soothe her.
He kisses down her body, eases her thighs open to settle between. She so warm and soft. Kisses up the inside of her thigh when she starts getting worked up and fussy, finding a good spot to start holding her.
When he first licks into her, she jumps like a live wire and almost kicks him. He coos at her when she apologizes, covering her face. Then he goes right back to it, licking at her pretty little clit and tasting the slick leaking from her tight entrance.
She twists and moans, tries to wriggle up the bed because it feels too good already and he’s just getting more enthusiastic. When she nearly gets away, he growls and drags her closer, sucking gently. He has to pin her down with his bulk while he works her over, obscenely loud as she gets wetter and wetter.
“Let me hear you, sweetie,” he purrs when she starts covering her mouth to hide her high-pitched noises. “how else can I know you feel good, huh? Cmon, baby, be good for me and I’ll reward you.”
Her hands up in his hair and his eyes nearly roll back in his head when she tugs. He lets her rock and squirm and guide him just where it feels best, locks it away in his memory. He carefully slides a finger into her, she screams and cums all over his hand and tongue, shaking and clenching.
“That’s my girl,” he moans against her dripping pussy, “so good, so pretty.”
He helps her ride it out, then eases her through aftershocks with light kisses and caresses to her hips. After she caught her breath, she sighs softly and cards her fingers through his hair.
“Thank you, Johnny,” she whispers so sweetly.
“You’re welcome, baby,” he murmurs. “Now, time for my reward, eh?”
“W-wha?!”
He laughs as he jerks her thighs over his shoulders and buries his face between her thighs.
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happyprincesscycle · 3 months ago
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Billy Butcher x Supe!Reader
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Summary: Billy has captured you to interrogate you about Homelander
(Your Supe powers are like Sage basically you don't have super strength)
Warnings: Tw! NON CON, Dead Dove, please don't read this if you get triggered or are not a fan of dark fics. Its my first fic so sorry if it sucks 🙈🫠
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“Last chance, luv ,” Butcher says, his voice dripping with menace, accent thick and unmistakable. He presses the knife harder against your skin, just enough to draw a bead of blood. “Tell me what I wanna know, and I’ll make it quick.”
He pauses, his smirk twisting into something cruel. “So, what’s it gonna be, eh? Talk, or bleed?”
You shake your head firmly, refusing to give him any information. Butcher sighs, sounding almost disappointed, like you’re just making things harder for yourself.
“Suit yourself.”
He presses down with the knife, carving a shallow cut across your chest. The pain sears through you, and you gasp, arching your back involuntarily. Butcher watches with a twisted satisfaction, his eyes gleaming as he drinks in your suffering.
“That’s just a taste,” he murmurs, wiping the blade clean on your shirt. “Next time, I won’t be so fuckin’ gentle.”
He leans in, his breath hot against your skin, before his tongue flicks out, licking the blood from your chest. He trails up to your neck, the sensation making you shudder in revulsion. You try to buck him off, but he’s solid, unyielding.
“Ah, woud' you taste that?” he mutters, nipping at your earlobe. “Fear and adrenaline—me two favorite flavors.”
He pulls back slightly, the knife glinting ominously in his hand. “Ready for round two, then?”
You avert your eyes, refusing to let him see the fear in them. Butcher chuckles, a dark, humorless sound that sends chills down your spine.
“Wot’s the matter, luv ?” He taunts, leaning closer, his voice a low growl. “Cat got yer tongue?”
He moves in even closer, his breath fanning over your face. “Y’know, I’ve always wondered what it’s like to fuck a Supe. Guess tonight’s me lucky night.”
His hips press against yours, and you can feel the hardness of his arousal. He laughs darkly as you squirm beneath him, trying to get away, but it’s no use—he’s too strong.
“Don’t you worry, darlin’,” he sneers, reaching down and tearing at your pants with rough, impatient hands. “I’ll make sure you enjoy it... Eventually.”
You cry out, struggling against him, but he’s unyielding. He forces your legs apart, his grip bruising as he holds you down.
“Fuckin’ Supes,” he mutters against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. “Think you’re invincible, don’t ya? But you’re just flesh and bone, same as the rest of us.”
You try to kick him, to fight back with all your strength, but he’s too fast, too determined. He grabs your thigh, pinning it down as he grinds against you, the evidence of his arousal pressing into you.
He leans in, his teeth sinking into your neck with a feral growl that makes you cry out. The pain is sharp and sudden, and you try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge.
“Please...” you cry out, your voice trembling. Butcher pauses, just for a moment, and looks down at you, his eyes narrowing.
“Please?” he echoes, his tone mocking, contemptuous. “You’re a fuckin’ Supe, love. Don’t deserve fuckin’ kindness.”
He grinds against you harder, his dark smile never leaving his face. “You’re nothin’ but a hole to fill, a toy to break. Understand? Say it.”
When you don’t respond, his hand comes down hard against your face, the slap sending a jolt of pain through you. Your vision blurs, and you taste blood on your tongue.
“Oi, I said, say it,” he snarls, gripping your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me you understand, you little cunt.”
Tears spill from your eyes as you nod, your voice barely a whisper. “Y-yes... I understand.”
Butcher’s smirk widens, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “Good girl.”
He pushes your legs wider, his fingers digging into your thighs as he positions himself between them. “Now, let’s stop wasting anymore time, eh?”
He unbuckles his belt with a rough yank, the sound ominous in the silent room. His eyes never leave yours as he positions himself, the dark promise in them making your heart pound in terror.
“Yer gonna take every fuckin’ inch of me, luv'. And yer gonna fuckin’ like it.”
You try to squirm away, desperation clawing at you, but he grabs your hips, holding you in place with brutal force.
“Stay still, you little cunt,” he growls, his voice low and threatening. He slaps your thigh hard, leaving a red, burning handprint. “This is gonna hurt. A lot.”
And with that, he thrusts into you, hard and brutal, tearing a scream from your throat. The pain is overwhelming, but Butcher just laughs, the sound dark and filled with satisfaction.
“Music to me fuckin’ ears,” he murmurs, his hips slamming into yours with bruising force.
“Please,” you whimper, tears streaming down your face. “Please, stop.”
Butcher just laughs again, cold and merciless. “Stop?” he echoes, as if the very idea is absurd. “Why the fuck would I do that, luv'? We’re just gettin’ started.”
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