#this sucks but eh I’ll get through it

[winterwrxter]

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.

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ! ❞

❝ THEY TOOK YOU. SO SATORU GOJO DID THE ONLY REASONABLE THING — HE TOOK THEIR LIVES ! ❞

✧ 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

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.”

✧ 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

[rafeandonlyrafe]

sleepover

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

[ylangelegy]

the way of the work husband 📋 chan x reader.

going back to work after the holidays sucks, but at least you've got your 'work husband' lee chan to get you through it.

★ office worker!chan x f!reader. ★ word count: 1.8k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: office, alternate universe: co-workers, fluff/romance. vernon is a menace (affectionately). not proofread. ★ footnotes: been itching to write chan lately and this was the result. dedicating this to my favorite corporate girlie!dinonara @chanranghaeys, who i have been threatening a chan fic with for a little over a week now ෆ sana all may lee chan sa office. 😔 + a special shoutout to @diamonddaze01 for educating me on the how work spouses operate. 🙏

“Is Lee Chan, like, your work husband or something?” 

The look on Vernon’s face is perfectly innocent, but his arched eyebrow gives some indication of just how amused he is. You shoot him a scathing glare before turning back to your work-sanctioned laptop. 

You don’t answer Vernon’s question. Not at first, anyway. Instead, you opt to wryly ask, “Why do you always have to use his full government name whenever you’re talking about him?” 

“Eh. Just ‘Chan’ is too short,” Vernon responds noncommittally. He should be focusing on the grant that he has to write, but he seems intent on quizzing you on your relationship with the company’s newest program assistant. 

Vernon leans a little further into his computer chair. He’s always been a pretty amicable seatmate; he just liked to poke the bear every so often. 

“So?” he prompts. “Are you and Lee Chan… you know.” 

When Vernon makes a vague, crude gesture with his hands, you groan out loud. “Don’t make it weird,” you snap. “And no. Chan and I are just friends, asswipe.”

“But you guys display peak work spouse behavior.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be grant writing?” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting your afternoon coffee with Mr. Program Assistant?” 

Vernon’s rebuttal has you glancing at the digital clock on your desk. Shit. 

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you say as you grab your wallet and get to your feet. You hate to admit it, but Vernon is right. You’ve started dedicating your fifteen-minute afternoon breaks to cafeteria trips with Chan. 

All in the name of friendship, you insist.

“‘Course it doesn’t,” Vernon sing-songs. Just when you think he’s done, he throws in a final jab. 

“I’ll have an itemized list of my observations,” he calls after your retreating back. “Just you wait!” 

You don’t turn around to dignify Vernon’s taunt with a response. Instead, you flip him off over your shoulder as you contemplate what coffee to get with Chan today.

Rarely are you late to work. Some mornings are just harrowing, littered with minor inconveniences like your alarm not going off or the bus making one too many stops. 

When you finally make it to the office, you can already imagine the CEO’s backhand comment about punctuality. Something like ‘early is on time, on time is late, and late is unacceptable,’ probably. 

That’s why you feel an immense pang of relief when you notice a vacant seat near the back of the room, one that you undoubtedly know is yours. 

You make your way to the chair as discreetly as you can. The bag atop it is taken off the moment that you arrive, and you flash an appreciative grin at the one who made it possible. 

Chan— who is already shifting his bag onto his lap— gives you an exaggerated wink in return. 

You mouth a wordless ‘thank you’ at him. He doesn’t respond verbally, just smiles at you in that way that lights up a whole room. It’s the type of grin that has you forgetting just how bad of a morning you had; you’d lose yourself in it if weren’t for the ominous presence of Vernon a couple of seats down.

The meeting grabs your attention soon enough, but not before you notice Vernon inconspicuously typing something into his phone. 

☑ You always sit next to each other at meetings

“Who’re you texting?” 

“Hm?” 

“Hellooo! Pay attention to me!” 

There’s a guilty expression on your face as you finally glance up at Seungkwan. “Sorry,” you say meekly. “What were you asking?” 

Vernon lets out a huff of laughter at Seungkwan’s side. “I’ll bet a dollar that it’s Lee Chan,” says Vernon. 

Seungkwan responds with a roll of his eyes. “That’s a given.” 

“Yah,” you begin to protest, ready to justify the way you’ve only been half-present throughout your entire lunch break. 

Your attempt falls flat when your phone pings, and the screen lights up. 

One (1) new text from Channie. 🦖LOLOL I have the perfect reel for this!! Wait a minute~~ 💖💙

Seungkwan scoffs. Vernon snickers. 

Your eye twitches, and you shoot back a text underneath the table in a bid to avoid your friends’ teasing. 

☑ You message each other all day long

It’s hard not to laugh when Chan is looking at you like that. 

Despite the fact that there’s a whole brainstorming session going on— preparation for the company’s next fundraising event— the two of you can’t help your silent communication. 

Especially when Soonyoung starts running his mouth about the fundraiser potentially being tiger-themed. 

One glance is all it takes. Chan’s lips are drawn into a thin line, and you know he’s also trying his darndest not to laugh. It’s a mammoth effort to hold back yourself, but you manage— not wanting to suffer from your eccentric boss’ line of questioning. 

It’s all free game once the session ends, though. 

You make a beeline for Chan. He takes one look at your quirked lip before jerking his head towards the door, urging the two of you to have this discussion somewhere you won’t be lynched.

Still, you and Chan can barely resist your peals of laughter as you leave the meeting room with your heads bowed together. Vernon watches with bemusement as the two of you trade incoherent mumblings about Tigger and Pompompurin. 

Not that Vernon has any idea what those have to do with anything. 

☑ You exchange knowing glances from across the room ☑ You share inside jokes about work and life

“Hey, Lee Chan, where’s your work wife?” 

Chan doesn’t miss a beat. “She’s in a meeting with finance,” he answers without even looking up from his keyboard. 

A corner of Vernon’s lip twitches upward. Aha. 

Chan seems to pick up on Vernon’s smug silence. The younger boy’s head snaps up, his expression quickly becoming guarded. “Not my work wife,” Chan sputters. “Just— I knew where she was, okay?” 

“Riiight.” 

There’s a redness in the tips of Chan’s ears as he goes back to the Google Doc he’d been slaving away on. Vernon doesn’t say anything more, but he does feign like he’s texting someone instead of adding to his ever-growing list.

☑ Your other colleagues wonder where the other’s at when you’re not together

It’s a bit of an epilogue in its own right, how Chan is the one to know why you’re out for the morning.

The CEO had asked it mostly as a rhetorical question— has anyone seen her?— but Chan’s easy answer has the meeting coming to a stuttering halt. 

“She got stuck at her dentist’s appointment,” he says. 

Several pairs of eyes turn to Chan. The look on his face is comically caught.

He fumbles for his phone and waves it around awkwardly. “We were texting,” he adds hastily. “That’s why I know.” 

How that was supposed to help Chan’s case, Vernon has no idea. 

“Well, tell her that we hope she gets better soon,” the CEO says coolly. A corner of her lip is upturned, like she’s finding this entire interaction a little too amusing. 

Chan manages a mumbled “Will do.” 

The meeting pushes through. Vernon watches Chan from the corner of his eye. Aside from looking absolutely mortified, there’s just a bit of dullness to the latter’s demeanor. A slower uptake, a dimmer grin. 

Gee, Vernon muses as he types away on his laptop. Wonder why. 

☑ You’re kind of bummed when they’re out of office ☑ You cover for each other when one is MIA

Vernon’s running list is a fun little gig, but it all comes to head on the evening of the company’s monthly night out.

The table at the speakeasy is full of boisterous laughter and greasy finger food. Everyone’s in high spirits for the upcoming weekend, and Vernon has to hold back on teasing those who he thinks are having just a little too much fun. 

You and Chan have spent much of the evening acting like you’re in your own world. Sure, you’re not touching each other— this is technically a work event, after all— but you’ve shared laughter and whispers throughout the night that nobody else is privy to. 

And, alright, fine. Maybe your knees knock into each other more often than not. Maybe Chan puts a hand over your ear whenever he wants to point something out, and maybe you lean in just a little more than necessary. 

It’s obvious to anybody with two eyes that you two are fond of each other. That much is certain.

That’s what gives Vernon the boost of confidence to play wingman by the end of the night. 

“You know,” he says coolly as your group spills out onto the sidewalk. “I think the two of you live in the same neighborhood.” 

What Vernon is scheming is plain as day to you. You narrow your eyes at him, but he’s undeterred. He only smiles at you and Chan like the menace that he is. 

Chan, for his part, raises his eyebrows ever so slightly. He glances at you with a quizzical expression. 

“You’ve never mentioned that.” He raises his hand to his chest, as if feigning hurt at being kept in the dark. 

A snort of laughter escapes you. “Didn’t feel like it was particularly important information,” you say dryly. 

“Of course it’s important!” Chan’s always been a little louder when he’s drunk, so his voice raises an octave or two. “‘Cause that means we can carpool together, or, like, y’know—” 

Vernon interrupts with a sage, “You can probably book the same cab for tonight, actually. Make it a double stop.” 

Chan’s face lights up. “Great idea, man!” 

Before you can protest, Chan is already whipping out his phone to pull up his ride-hailing app. This is not a battle that you’re going to win. 

All the while, Vernon grins triumphantly. 

☑ You go home together after happy hour 

“Can we—” 

“Shhh. No, not yet.” 

“But nobody’s looking!”

“Wait until we’ve rounded the corner, idiot—” 

And so he does. 

But the moment the corner has been rounded, Chan is sagging against your side like he’s wanted to the entire night. “Oh, thank God,” your boyfriend sighs. “I didn’t think I’d survive another minute without touching you.” 

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you. The feeling is mutual, though, so you reach out to rest your hand on his knee.

“Commendable self-control tonight,” you note. “All the whispering was a little too obvious, though.” 

Chan huffs in protest, but the sound loses its edge as he cuddles up to you in the back of the cab. “No one suspects us. It’s just Vernon,” he complains. 

“And Seungkwan,” you say. “And Jeonghan, and Minghao, and Wonwoo—” 

Your boyfriend gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “Doesn’t matter.” His hand rests on top of yours, just barely resisting the urge to intertwine your fingers. “They don’t know a thing about us, sweets.” 

The smile threatening to fill your face finally breaks. When you laugh, your shoulders shake against Chan’s body. You’re not sure if he’s entirely right— you know of Vernon’s whole iPhone note, after all— but you’re willing to indulge your boyfriend if it makes him happy. 

“Yeah,” you concede. “They don’t know a thing.” 

[sttoru]

A WELCOMED INTERRUPTION !

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.

“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.”

[charliemwrites]

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!

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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Masterlist

[shotmrmiller]

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

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.

[velvet-n-lace]

Can You Suck Yourself Off? 💖

Series: Obey Me!

Genre: Smut/Headcanon

Word Count: 1.4k words

Pairing(s): The Brothers x Gender Neutral MC

Tags and Warnings: autofellatio, masturbation, humiliation, blowjob, fucking you so hard you lose your memory [NOT CLICKBAIT]

A/N: This has been a long time coming; I was initially gonna wait until 666 followers on my OM blog to start posting my writing, but with the recent developments of the games and people being afraid that OM fanfics will be deleted because of it, I decided to just post them now. I'm posting my AO3 stuff here, so if you can't wait for what I'm gonna post, you can just go read them on there; thanks ^^

rea the AO3 version here -> 🎀

Lucifer 💙

When you suggested it to him, it looked like he wanted to push you off the bed. To have you watch him suck his own cock is the last thing he wanted you to do. He covered your mouth and continued fucking you for the rest of the night, hoping you would forget that you even asked such a question.

After that steamy night, your lewd request was all he could think of.

“Ridiculous, I would never do such a thing...”

He stared down at his half-flaccid cock and made sure his door was locked. After stroking it hard again, he bent his head down and sucked down on it slowly.

“Ridiculous… ridiculous… ridiculous…”

Surprisingly, it made him realize the difficulty you have to deal with when you give him a blowjob; Luci is hard to impress, and even his self-sucking felt like it wasn’t enough; he wanted more and more of it.

After trying for a few minutes, he gave up and jacked himself off to take his mind off his half-assed attempt.

Asking him to do it in front of you would be like asking for a death wish, so he expects you never to bring it up again.

But he would certainly try again behind closed doors until he is ready to let you watch him do it~

Mammon 💛

“Are ya crazy!? I ain’t doin’ something that humiliating!”

Exactly what you’d expect, you pouted and asked him again.

“If you do, I’ll get Goldie back to you by tomorrow night.”

Mammon’s face went completely blank, and he immediately followed that up by stroking his cock to get it hard again. Lucifer took away his credit card again, and he was willing to do anything to win his precious Goldie back. He lowered his face to his cock and began sucking it viciously.

He really wanted Goldie back. Damn.

You watched in awe as he sucked his cock. He bobbed his head quickly, almost trying to get it over with, but he began enjoying this new method of self-pleasure. He glanced at you but only shut his eyes tightly before he sucked harder, making his whole body convulse. It turned him on even more as you touched yourself in front of him. He let his cum drip down his dick before it spurted on his face and into his mouth.

“Augh!! Y-You better… get my precious credit card back…” he panted as he lifted his head from his crotch.

He totally didn’t enjoy that… 

Leviathan 🧡

“Eh? S-Self-suck?”

“Do it, do it, do it!” You tell him.

Levi didn’t know what he was getting into, but whatever it was, he wanted to please you however he could. He leaned himself upside down against the bathtub bed, bent his legs down, and started sucking down on one of his cocks slowly.

His other cock began twitching as you stared at him hungrily; you took his other cock in your mouth and sucked alongside him.

His body convulsed, his moaning was loud, and his face was red as a beet. “This is so lewd omg omg. I can’t believe I'm doing this,” He thinks.

You can feel his heartbeat surging through his cocks; he almost begged you to do more to his body.

He writhed in ecstasy as you teased him some more. He shut his eyes as he got close to climaxing.

“Mmmmh… mmmmhh… mmmh… mmgh!!”

By the end, you could only hear his gasping and moaning as he came huge loads on his face. He looks up at you as he’s drowned in gratitude and arousal.

Satan 💚

He stared down at you with a confused look, maybe a bit disappointed that you asked him something he would immediately refuse to do.

“You’re very bold to assume I would do that…”

As soon as you left the room, he began thinking about it. He looked down at the bulge in his pants and sighed. “Tch…”

After unzipping them, his erection sprung free. It twitched in his hand, but he hesitated to bend down to lick the tip.

He felt a rush of heat flow through him; he had never felt such a strange sensation as his own member entered his mouth, and you also felt a surge of arousal the moment you walked in on him trying it.

“AH! Ugh… fine, watch.”

Satan worked his tongue down his own shaft, and you could feel his moaning getting louder the more flustered he got.

He looked up at you with a mixture of anger and desire; he was cumming soon, and he knew that the moment he finished, he would have his way with you.

He was trying so hard to hold back his release, knowing he had let his guard down for a moment. He took a deep breath, and his seed spurted across his face before he panted heavily. Later that night, he made sure to fuck that memory out of you.

Asmodeus 🩷

“Like I don’t do that anyway!” Asmo winks at you as he bends his legs over his head with ease, his demon cock dangling over his pretty mouth, “Enjoy the show. ♡”

He licks his lips before wrapping them around his sensitive cock-head. He keeps glancing at your face, in awe of his flexibility and self-pleasure, like you're craving his existence.

His eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel his intense heat emanating through his core; he pulled you in so you could help him out.

“Aaah... that’s right, lick the rest of it, suck on my balls while I suck myself off.”

He moaned in delight when you joined; his body was writhing in ecstasy as his thighs trembled and his moaning got louder.

He was on the verge of climaxing but acted as if it was only the beginning. His balls tightened in your mouth the more he laced his tongue down his shaft.

He let out a guttural groan as a wave of cum spilled all over his face.

His sweet seed filled his mouth, and as he caught his breath, he was ready for you to have a taste of him next~

Beelzebub ❤️

“Hmm…” He stared down at his cock, wondering if his mouth could reach a sliver of it, “I think so… I’ll try…”

He took a deep breath and bent toward his massive member; his tongue flicked out eagerly as he wondered what he tasted like.

He was fixated on his cock; he knew it was huge, but he never considered this method before you brought it up. Beel wanted it to feel as good as your own lips.

His eyes glaze over at you; bending down to take it was easy enough, but it was challenging to bring it all down to his throat.

“MC, can you lick the rest of it, please?”

You lick up what he couldn’t reach; his body tensed up, and his sucking got harder, desperate to taste his own cum.

“Mmmmh… mmmmhh… mmmh…”

Beel began to grunt and moan, your hands gripping his cock as he went down on his throbbing member.

You felt the heat of his saliva on your fingers; the remaining grunts filled your ears as he swallowed his load.

Belphegor 💜

“Mh? I’d rather you do it for me…”

“C’mon, please, just once,” you begged, “I’ll do it after you try,” the more you begged, the more he couldn’t resist your sweet, pleading face.

“Mmh… fine, “ Belphie grumbled, “but you need to help me…” He pulled down his pants and cupped his member already glistening with precum. He closed his eyes and leaned down to lick the tip before coughing up his salty taste.

It felt nice; his breathing became erratic the more he pressed his cock into his mouth.

“Suck on me too, please!” He begged.

You eagerly obliged and ran your tongue down his balls and shaft, making him tremble. His satisfied groan only made his cock swell in his mouth, but he was still unsatisfied with his half-assed attempt.

Your tongue helped him out immensely; he kept moaning harder as he begged you for more. He was really enjoying your pretty mouth teasing his shaft.

He pulled back so suddenly, and as he laid down panting, it didn’t stop you from finishing the job. You took his cock in your mouth and sucked down on it violently.

Your tongue swirled around the head, tasting his bittersweet essence. His moans grew louder and more intense, and as he let out a final cry, he came and realized it was all worth it in the end.

[alcoholfreenayeon]

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

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….

[dark-frosted-heart]

Melted by Summer's Lust - Roger Barel (Epilogue)

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.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

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

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*  

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.

TAGS ||

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[amiaclone]

Thank you! I love getting compliments by my writing

By leader I’m assuming the manager guard? If so I’ll do it I hope I’m right 😭

Tw: Probably really ooc

I unfortunately can’t find a gif of him so just google the black manager guard if you don’t know who I’m talking about

Leader guard x gender neutrel! Reader

(Readers gonna be a hoodie if you don’t mind)

You sighed how long has it been?

Killing in general sucks but being forced to do it? Wow

You unfortunately lost one of the games in the last squid game it was i think the honeycomb game? You however survival instinct took in and ran and hid for a good while trying to get out of the Island

Unfortunately due to all the cameras and lack of hiding spaces you were caught but due to how long it took to find you and how much you begged and begged….The vips apparently or something requested Front man for you to live they didn’t care what they’d do with you but you were entertaining

So you became a guard honestly it was better then dying but killing hundreds of people made you sick to your stomach

Although you were promised to be let go after this game which was relieving but still….you don’t think you were ever gonna forget this

You ended up becoming a co officer? Too bad the officer front man of the workers was the most annoying guy ever…..

You were disgusted he didn’t care about the amount of lives he was taking and watching people being tortured is entertaining somehow…..and the selling the organs bit

He however unknowingly to you took a liking to you he never saw your face no matter how many times he’d insist you never took it off it’s not like it was an order he just….wanted to see your pretty face

He liked your random short snarky comments you’d make occasionally whenever you’d get comfortable enough

Now here you are with him annoying you about whatever as he kept his eyes on the cameras making fun of half the players

“Player 233 is so stupid imaging not eating your food when it’s your only meal a day-“

“I don’t care-“

“Oh come on babe can’t you just pretend to agree me and you can both agree it’s boring.”

*You rolled your eyes under your mask*

“Yeah the second we get distracted I get the blame and get killed? Yeah right”

“He thinks you’re somewhat entertaining weirdly it’ll probably be me.”

*You didn’t say anything what’s there to say?*

“……So wanna make fun of the players?”

“No.”

“Ok then, your loss….”

*You were shocked he agreed somewhat but atleast he shut up*

“Hey since nobody’s here why don’t we take our masks off can barely breathe in these….”

“Why do you always wanna take our masks off?” *It’s not like you didn’t want to or anything but the way he always insisted was he testing you? Planning something? Being paranoid in this case is perfectly justifiable*

“Well you sound cute your face is probably even cuter….besides we’ve known each other for weeks you have to atleast think I’m tolerable?” *He teased*

*You scoffed* “Yeah so tolerable…” *You pondered in thought it is getting hot in here it’s not like you can’t breathe in the mask or anything but eh you never seen his face either you haven’t seen any of the workers faces now thinking about it-*

*Your thoughts were interrupted by him taking it off he was…..attractive. Eh personality is kinda bad.*

*You quickly regained your composure* “Sweet.”

*He winked jokingly*

“Bet you weren’t expecting this face were you?” *He went through his pocket and got a cigarette and smoked puffing some air out.* “Wanted to smoke.”

*You groaned in disgust* “In this room was it really necessary?” *He shrugged* “It’s not like it’s gonna kill you.”

*You sigh taking your mask off and using your hand to wave the smoke air out of your face you noticed him staring*

“What?” *You asked in an annoyed tired tone*

“Nothing.” *He smirks a bit*

“You’re just really pretty that’s all.”

Hope you liked it!

[mreowsu]

stream saga: wilr dift / bllk x reader

(yes, it is intentionally spelled like that)

the chat was on fire even before the loading screen disappeared. you and nagi had just booted up wilr dift, the two of you roped into streaming again after the infamous blue lock players’ umong as disaster™. your audience had begged for more content, and despite the entertainment, only a few—namely nagi and you—were skilled gamers. the rest of the team was great at making the content lively, but when it came to competitive games, the others were a little out of their depth. wilr dift was a different beast entirely, and after being bombarded with requests, somehow, this turned into a duo-only session, just you and nagi playing a high-stakes moba with the usual no face cam—just gameplay and mics.

“why are we doing this again?” you groaned, fiddling with your rune setup.

“because they wouldn’t stop spamming,” nagi said lazily, his voice coming through the mic as smooth as ever. “and ‘cause you’re the only one who doesn’t suck at this.”

your champion loaded into the map. the audience immediately bombarded the chat with: 

@ whatusername: CARRY US Y/NNNNN

@ numba10: NAGI SLEEP STREAM PART 2 WHEN???

“alright, alright, settle down,” you said, squinting at the minimap. “listen, y’all. we’re about to absolutely dominate. or... nagi will, and i’ll just make sure i don’t feed the enemy team too hard.”

nagi hummed, already last-hitting minions on his lane. “don’t die. it’s a pain to carry when you’re dead.”

“wow, thanks for the motivational speech, coach,” you shot back.

the early game was going well—until it wasn’t.

you were chasing an enemy mid-laner with blood in your eyes. they were one hit away, but before your cooldowns refreshed, their jungler popped out of a bush, effectively dooming you.

“OH, COME ON!” you shouted, the game blasting a triumphant ‘you have been slain.’

The chat exploded.

@ whatusername: HAHAHAHA Y/N NOOOOO

@ leaguegodszssdss: BUSH GAP 😭

@ nagidrider: BAITED LMAOOO

“bruh,” you deadpanned. “i was about to clap that mid-laner, their stupid jungler had no business being there.”

“should’ve warded,” nagi said nonchalantly, already making his way to your lane.

“I DID WARD! they’re just..! unemployed!!”

@ nagidrider: cope 💀

@ shiftkeyboard2: Git gud

the chat spammed as you prepared to respawn. meanwhile, nagi’s champion slid into your lane with eerie calm, taking down both your killer and the mid-laner with mechanical precision.

‘double kill.’

“thanks for avenging me, i guess,” you muttered.

“try not to do that again.” nagi replied, focused on farming. “respawning takes forever… such a hassle.”

“oh, sorry, mr. perfect gamer,” you snapped, the sarcasm dripping. “not all of us are born with god-tier reaction times and the patience to farm for ten minutes straight.”

@ kdaheartsteelluvr: Peak banter stream

@ uknowhoitiz: at it againnn

the chat was filled to the brim—and then it happened

a wild ‘cashflowtalksss’ appeared in the chat.

@ cashflowtalksss: mid gap 💀

the chat instantly imploded.

@ boomshakalaka: OMG IS THAT REO??

@ YESSSGAAWDD: HELP reo’s a gamer now??

@ omega: DOES THIS MEAN NAGI’S GONNA DUO WITH REO NEXT STREAM?!

you blinked, reading the comment outloud before bellowing into the mic. “GET THE HELL OFF MY STREAM, REO. I’M SERIOUS.”

it was very reminiscent of that kevin hart and dwayne johnson interaction, and the chat picked up on it immediately.

@ cani: LMAOOOO WENT FULL KEVIN

@ putmybawls: SO MAD HAHAHAHA

@ inurjaws: NAH REO WINS THIS ROUND EZ

nagi chuckled softly, clearly amused. “that’s reo for you.”

“don’t defend him,” you hissed, back on your lane and fuming. “you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“eh, he’s not wrong.”

you gasped, ready to start a tirade, but nagi interrupted. “enemy jungler’s coming your way again.”

“WHAT?!” you shrieked, scrambling to retreat.

sure enough, the enemy jungler ambushed you again, and once more, you got obliterated. the chat was losing its collective mind.

‘you have been slain.’

“are you serious right now?” your exasperated voice rang out through the mic as the banner flashed across the screen for what felt like the hundredth time. “who the hell even plays malphite jungle? actual freak behavior.”

nagi’s monotone hum came through, calm as ever. “tough game, huh?”

you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. he was chilling, of course, with an absurd 12/0/9 kda, farming kills like it was second nature while you were out here struggling just to exist.

“tough isn’t the word, nagi,” you grumbled, clicking to respawn. “it’s impossible. they’ve got it out for me. chat, back me up here.”

@ nagis3rdpillow: nah they’re hard focusing y/n fr

@ y/n_defender: malphite jungle is an actual hate crime??

@ sae4ever: just play better lol

“okay, sae4ever, i see you,” you muttered, squinting at the chat. “play better? how about you log on and carry this game for me, huh? thought so. stay quiet.”

nagi chuckled lightly, his focus still on the game. “don’t stress. i’ll carry us, as always.”

“gee, thanks, mr. twelve-zero-nine,” you deadpanned, watching him casually solo their top laner and take the turret without breaking a sweat. “just keep farming kills, king. i’ll handle… whatever this is.”

you respawned, determined this time to turn the tide. your hands flew over the controls, and you pinged your lane aggressively. “that’s it. i’m done playing nice. you wanna mess with me, malphite? huh? huh?! let’s go!”

as if on cue, malphite showed up in your lane again, but this time, you were ready. your combo was clean, your movements sharper. you weaved in and out of his abilities, and just when he thought he could ult you, nagi appeared in your lane like a ghost, instantly avenging you.

“good timing,” you muttered, your eyes still glued to the screen.

“you had it,” nagi replied nonchalantly, though the kill announcement on his side said otherwise.

you grinned, blood pumping now as your streak began to climb. another enemy approached—an adc this time. your fingers flew across the screen as you obliterated their health bar, the kill sound ringing sweetly in your ears.

“you’re tryin’ to fight us, huh? huh? huh?!” you barked into the mic, adrenaline taking over. “you think you can kill me?! you think you can shut me down?? think again!”

the chat exploded.

@ malphite_supremacy: oh my god they’re unhinged

@ nagisleeping: y/n popping off let’s GOOOO

@ rinfourtheyelash: malphite regrets everything rn

“yo, calm down,” nagi muttered, though you could hear the smile in his voice.

“calm down? calm down? nagi, did you not see that? i’m a GOD right now.”

“you’re something, alright,” he replied, effortlessly taking dragon as you ranted.

just as you were about to bask in your moment of glory, a new name appeared in the chat:

@ rin_itsh: You’re not a god. Just lucky.

you froze. “oh, no.”

the chat exploded.

@ onemcfloat: IS THAT RIN??

@ onesundae: not even here to support, just roasting lmao

@ yumburger: RIN COMMENTED??? LMAO

“what the hell are you doing here, rin?” you snapped, leaning closer to your mic like you were ready to throw hands through the screen. “don’t you have better things to do than lurk in my stream?”

nagi, ever the instigator, chimed in without even glancing your way. “he’s not wrong, though. you’ve died, like, five times already.”

“don’t you start too.” you groaned.

rin’s comment reappeared.

@ rin_itsh: Skill issue. Carry on.

you gritted your teeth, glaring at the chat like he could feel your annoyance. “i swear if i ever catch you in a match, rin, it’s on sight. i don’t care if you’re blue lock’s star player, you’ll be dead to me.”

nagi sighed, leaning back in his chair as he casually got another pentakill. “should i mute chat?”

“no,” you said quickly, your grin betraying your frustration. “the drama’s good for the viewers.”

the chat erupted again, spamming variations of "L y/n" and "rin supremacy." you could practically feel your blood pressure rising.

before you could form a retort, another familiar name joined the chaos.

@ dribblefiend: who’s feeding? 👀

you groaned audibly. “bachira, don’t you dare—”

@ dribblefiend: looks like i came just in time

the chat was eating it up.

“bachira, get out,” you said, exasperated.

@ dribblefiend: nah i’m staying

@ dribblefiend: nagi, how’s it feel carrying?

“it’s fine,” nagi said casually, eyes still glued to the screen. “i’m used to it.”

you spun toward him, mouth agape. “excuse me?!”

just as you were about to give him an earful, the final nail in the coffin came when isagi chimed in.

@ offsidegenius: i thought we were bad at this game, but wow, y/n, you’re really setting new records

“isagi, i swear to god!” you yelled into the mic, your character dying yet again on the screen. the chat erupted into a sea of crying emojis and spam messages.

nagi sighed, his voice calm despite the chaos. “focus. your lane’s a mess without you.”

“maybe it wouldn’t be a mess if my so-called friends weren’t distracting me!” you snapped, though your tone was tinged with exasperated laughter.

@ rin_itsh: Coping and seething.

@ dribblefiend: bro is totally tilted now

@ cashflowtalksss: this is comedy gold

‘you have been slain.’

the voiceover taunted once again, flashing across your screen as you stared at your clocked champion.

“i hate this game,” you deadpanned into the mic, your soul clearly leaving your body. “actually, i hate my life. what did i do in a past life to deserve being focus-targeted? like, is this karma? nagi, is this karma?”

“hmm,” nagi hummed lazily, clearly more focused on his now 18/0 kda than your existential crisis. “maybe you were, like, a mosquito in your past life. annoying everyone.”

“thanks for the vote of confidence, teammate,” you muttered, staring at the respawn timer like it personally wronged you.

meanwhile, nagi’s monotone commentary droned in your ears, “i’ll clear their jungle real quick. just don’t feed again.”

“don’t feed again? oh, i’m sorry, mr. pentakill, but i’d like to see you survive a 1v5 with their entire team breathing down your neck!”

chat, of course, was living for your misery.

@ y/n_defender: rip y/n, 2025-2025

@ malphite_luvr: nagi hard carrying while y/n malds—peak content

@ pls_stop_screaming: turn down your mic for the love of god

“chat, don’t even start with me,” you warned, but your voice cracked as you adjusted your build, clicking back into the game. “i’m about to make the greatest comeback in history, and all of you are gonna eat your words.”

respawning at last, you rushed back to your lane, fully prepared to get revenge. the enemy adc appeared on your screen, and without hesitation, you dove in, spamming your abilities like your life depended on it.

“you’re trying to fight me, huh?! huh?!” you screamed into the mic, your voice reaching frequencies that could probably shatter glass. “YOU THINK YOU CAN KILL ME?? THINK AGAIN!”

nagi, calmly farming, deadpanned, “you’re gonna overextend.”

“shut up, nagi! i know what i’m doing!”

a second later, the enemy jungler appeared out of nowhere, ulting you into oblivion.

‘you have been slain.’

your scream pierced the heavens, loud enough to make nagi wince.

“NOOO! I HAD THEM! THAT WAS A ONE-VERSUS-TWO! THEY WERE CHEATING!”

@ screaming_is_content: why is y/n so LOUD

@ nagicarry: someone nerf y/n’s mic pls

@ malphite_luvr: the adc is probably laughing so hard rn

“you’re so bad at this game,” nagi muttered, finally rotating to your lane. he swooped in, effortlessly wiping out both the adc and the jungler in one clean combo.

“you’re welcome,” he said flatly.

“oh, gee, thanks,” you hissed, still salty. “so glad you could show up after I DIED!”

“better late than never,” nagi replied, clearly unbothered.

then, as if the chaos wasn’t enough, reo came back in the chat:

@ cashflowtalksss: can y/n chill for like two seconds? i can hear them from here.

your rage reignited. “REO, I THOUGHT YOU LEFT THE STREAM?! GO COUNT YOUR MONEY OR SOMETHING!”

chat erupted into pure chaos.

@ y/nnie: FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

@ cashflowtalksss: i’m just here to support my teammates <3

@ pls_stop_screaming: y/n is losing it lmaooo

nagi, meanwhile, let out a soft chuckle. “you’re way too loud.”

“don’t you start!” you snapped, your glare piercing at nagi beside you.

as the game went on, your comeback arc finally began. you started landing your combos, getting kills, and—you had to admit—actually contributing to the team for once. by the time the nexus fell, you were grinning like a maniac.

“GG, chat.” you announced triumphantly. “never doubted myself for a second.”

“except for all the times you did,” nagi added, his voice as monotone as ever.

“nagi, shut up.”

© 2025 mreowsu

[idontplaytrack]

Little secret

Regina George x nb! reader

Warnings: age regression, fluff, crying

In which Regina finds that you are…little after an accidental slip.

Requested!

The last two weeks were hectic, you had a test everyday. And then after school, you were off to work most days, only coming home after 10pm. Because of this, you hadn’t had much time to spend with Regina. She knew about the tests at school because she obviously had those too, she also knew you worked a part-time job after school— multiple days a week. You and Regina would FaceTime or at least text every night before you went to bed when you were busier. In other words, most of your time together with her would be at school.

Although…your part-time job was relatively new. You’ve only started it about two months ago. Were you more tired? Sure. Did you need the job? Absolutely. So you swallowed any unhappiness about the job and just did it. Regina seemed to have picked up on how withdrawn you’ve become ever since despite not saying anything about it yet. She knew you had better things to be worried about.

Today was Saturday, the tests have all been completed as of yesterday but you were currently at work and it sucked. It was so busy, and the customers have been so rude. You were trying your damn best to not lose your cool during such a busy time, and thank goodness it wasn't a day where you guys were understaffed. Noticing the time on the POS system in front of you, you saw that you had just twenty minutes left for your shift. Next, something completely unexpected happened: you saw Regina walk in and sit herself down on the bench by the door after a brief moment of eye contact with you. Weird, you thought. Why was she here? No, why was she here to pick you up from work on the day you decided you were going to finally destress when you got home? Destress by age regressing. That’s how you coped, and honestly, given the time you’ve had lately…it was terribly hard to fight the urge to not do so. You felt it happening, but you were literally forcing yourself to make sure it doesn’t happen, forcing yourself to make it through this shift because you finally had tomorrow off work.

You clocked out, heaving a sigh of relief as you went to grab your bag from the lockers. Then, you made your way over to Regina, greeting her quietly. “Why are you here?”

“To pick you up, baby. Why else? Haven’t had any downtime with you all week.” Regina bit back a smile, gaze softening when she looked at you.

“I know you’re here to pick me up, but— eh, never mind.” Your voice trailed off at the end.

Regina squints, worried at your frustration. “You alright, baby?”

You chuckled wryly, “Not so sure.”

“Wanna talk about it?” She asks, starting the engine of her Jeep.

“Mm-mm.” You shook your head no then looked outside as she started to drive.

She exhales, eyes glancing at you briefly, “Take a nap then? I’ll wake you up when we’ve reached my house.”

You nodded, then quickly drifted off to sleep without much trouble. It was better than being awake and worried, and worried about your plans to do what you wanted to do to help with the stress. But with the way she was talking to you, somehow being extra gentle than usual, your mind was easily coaxed into a regressed state. It was happening, and you were just avoiding it by being asleep for now.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, carefully shaking you awake. Your eyes slowly peeled open. “Hi.” She whispered, “We’re here, baby. Come on, let’s get inside.”

You nod, eyes barely open. You followed her lead, clinging onto her arm and walking into the house, then upstairs. Once in her room, you curled up in her bed, ignoring everything else— you just felt like napping. You were sleepy. You heard Regina moving around in her room, probably at her vanity to remove her accessories and makeup. She chuckles at the sight of you so comfortably laying in her bed.

“Sleepy?” She asked, “Or are you feeling sick?”

“Sleepy.” You mumbled, hands reaching out to her and you sulked.

“Aw, what’s wrong?” She asked, voice still soft.

You blinked innocently, “Hug?” You didn’t even worry about anything right now, you just knew you wanted her to hold you.

“One minute, baby.” She smiled crookedly, Regina was slightly worried. She’s never seen you like this before. Not that she was complaining by any means…because you seemed so very cute right now. Maybe you were just clingy? She thought.

While she was changing into comfy clothes, Regina asked if you wanted to do the same too, but you just whined. Another moment of concern went through her head, she sighs. Chewing on her lower lip, “Baby, is something bothering you?”

“No.” You told her timidly, noticing that tense expression on her face. Regina walked over to her bed and sat down next to you, studying you carefully. “I don’t want you to go through tough days alone, y/n. You’ve got me. I know things have been busy lately.”

You nodded, her hand rests on your side, endearingly squeezing it comfortingly. “I’m okay.”

“I know, bubs. You want a hug?”

“Yes, please.” You grinned cheekily.

“Mmkay, come here, bubs.” Regina opened up her arms and you quickly snuggled up against her.

“Can we play?” You muttered.

Yeah, no, Regina’s decided that you weren’t just clingy. But it was okay.

“Yeah, play what?” She asked, running a hand through your hair.

You hummed in thought, “Your iPad?”

“Weren’t you sleepy just a minute ago?” She laughed lightly.

You murmured, face buried in her chest. “Take a little nap, then we can play when you wake up. Deal?”

You shook your head, still not wanting to go to sleep. “Feel funny.” You muttered, arm now wrapped around her loosely.

“Hm?”

You sniffled, “Mommy and daddy yell a lot now.”

“They do?” She asked, soothingly rubbing your back.

You nod, “Yeah. It’s loud. So I hide.”

“It’s not your fault, hm?”

“It is though.” You breathed out shakily.

“No, it’s not.” She repeated, “It’s not your fault.”

“They yell my name.” You sighed, “I sit— I sit in my closet until I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s okay, baby. You just need to stay safe. You can call me, too, okay?”

“Okay.” You sniffed again. “…’m tired. School, work…so many people.”

“I know, I know…you’re okay. Just rest now, alright, baby?”

“Mmm.” You mumbled incoherently, nodding once again, “Will you leave me, Reggie?”

“Never.” Regina answered, “I promise.”

“Daddy left. Said he wasn’t gonna come back.” You laughed humourlessly, “Mommy was so angry.”

She didn’t know what to respond with, so she just let you get it off your chest while holding you and whispering words of assurances into your ears. “You’re safe with me, baby. Never gonna leave, okay? Never.”

And so…your little secret was out, and things weren’t so bad after all. When you had Regina with you, at least.

“Never?” You looked up at her.

“Never.”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

This took me way too longgg. I’m so sorry anon😵‍💫

[babydollmarauders]

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

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

Comments on this post are limited

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

liked by njdevils, lhughes_06 and 816,923 others

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

Comments on this post are limited

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!

[marlynnofmany]

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!