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petertingle-yipyip · 22 days ago

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WORLD CLASS SINNER - FRANK CASTLE

finale - devil is a woman

seven // masterlist // MAG Masterlist

Pairing: frank x livia, billy x livia

Word Count: 8,919

Summary: It’s finally done.

The ride in the ambulance was hectic. Brett was ranting about how what he was doing wasn’t normal for him. He was weaving and gliding through traffic and Frank, the bastard, was as calm as ever.

You sat quietly, running your thumb over the bit of your pin sticking out the cuff. You knew it just needed a little nudge and the cuffs would pop open, but freeing yourself now did no good. You weren’t going to knock out Mahoney while he was going full-speed down a busy highway, so you waited.

“Hey.” Frank nudged your shin with his foot while Brett yelled on a phone call to Dinah. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Just wondering if I can convince Matt to take your case again.” You shrugged and he broke into a grin.

“What about you?”

“I can sweet talk Mahoney into letting me go. You, however, are always a different story.”

“That regret I hear?”

“Never that.” You smiled.

The impact to the ambulance jarred you, causing your rigged cuffs to pop open from the sudden movement you recognized as a car collision. You were thrown into Frank while Brett yelled something about not letting Frank go. He used his free hand to help you back to your feet and you saw Brett’s head whip around to see you free. You shook the cuff off your wrist and offered an apologetic smile. He simply glared at you before turning back to the road. You held a hand to Frank, the other slipping to the gun at the back of your belt.

“Do you got me?” You asked quickly.

“What?”

“Do you got me?” You emphasized and shoved your hand towards him.

“Yeah, yeah, I got you.” He nodded and grabbed your wrist tightly.

You offered a small nod before throwing your weight back into the seam of the ambulance doors, busting them open and balancing precariously on your heels as Frank countered your backwards lean. You lifted your other hand and fired three shots at the window.

The bullets sent spider-web-like cracks through the glass but didn’t penetrate. You quickly realized it was a cop car, meaning bulletproof glass. You sighed and scanned the car quickly. You needed a new target and your first thought was the gas tank, but that was probably under the rear bumper. You aimed your gun again and fired two shots into the back tire.

The car swerved before flailing wildly out of control before you could get a good look at the driver. You were pulling yourself back into the ambulance when the car slammed into the side again, causing your footing to slip and you to fall from Frank’s grasp.

You heard him scream your name as you bounced off the asphalt, the terror he yelled it with was so real you wished it was enough to catch you. For a split second, you wondered if he was thinking of that run for guns when Lieberman crashed into Dinah and you went dragging across the road in a similar fashion.

You closed your eyes as you rolled across the road, feeling the searingly hot road tear through your clothes and leave burning scrapes across your skin as your permanently unstable rib seemed to snap yet again. You’d never wished for that protective long sleeve more.

You climbed to your hands and knees, shaking the vertigo and blinking hard to clear the small rocks from your eyes. The muffled sound of a car horn and skidding tires drew your attention up, which hardly gave you time to get out of the way. You tried to turn away but the front fender knocked into your shoulder.

The collision sent you rolling across the road again and you nearly fell over the now broken edge. You managed to crawl to the ledge and look over. Seeing the ambulance completely tipped, you felt something shatter in your chest.

“Frank!” You cried out and the desperation you said the single syllable of his name with scraped your throat like sandpaper.

Instinctively, you went for the wire from your Bites, but you didn’t have them. You slammed a fist against the ground and tried to calculate the distance to the street below, if you could survive a fall from that height. It was unlikely the landing would be pretty, but how the hell else were you supposed to get to Frank?

You hurried to your feet and reached into the window of the nearest car. They asked quickly if you were okay but you flashed your badge before breaking off their passenger seatbelt. Their eyes went to something behind you but didn’t dare look. You just hoped Matt’s God was looking out for you.

You rigged one end to an exposed piece of rebar and wrapped the other end around your hand before you stepped off, hearing the hollow thud of another car collision. When you ran out of slack, the sudden stop yanked on your shoulder and you felt the deep pop and your arm went limp. You bit your cheek to keep in your cry as you had to cut yourself free and your knees buckled once your feet hit the ground.

You vaguely heard Dinah’s voice from above and you said quiet thanks to her appearance. You staggered across the distance and knocked on the ambulance’s side. You heard heavy thuds on the other side and the relief you were flooded with could’ve swept away New York if it was a real tide. You didn’t care to stop the tears as you hurried, and nearly fell, as you got to the back of the ambulance.

You pried the doors open and reached in to help Frank out. He wrapped one arm around you and you did the same. After a moment, he pulled away and put that hand on the side of your head. He scanned you for injuries but found only the array of small, surface level scrapes. You put a hand to your dislocated shoulder and Frank nodded towards his other arm, which you realized was hanging limply at his side.

“Just had to copy em, huh?” You tried to joke and he gave you a weak smile.

“Shit, I’m just glad you’re alive, Princess.”

He guided you to the side of the ambulance and slammed his arm back into the socket. You braced against it and he forced yours back in the same way, at which you cried out loudly. You looked around and saw the dripping gas, the lapping flames of the engine.

“Brett.” You whispered, putting a hand on Frank’s shoulder as you passed him.

You climbed back into the ambulance and drew your knife. Your footing faltered when you saw Brett’s limp form but you had to keep pushing. You forced yourself deeper into the ambulance and sawed through the seatbelt. Frank was at your side and helped you haul Mahoney out while the man mumbled about locking you both up.

The explosion went off only seconds later.

Then you and Frank parted ways. He was going after David Shultz and you were going home. You kept thinking about the man in the cop car but as you held on to the memory, forced it to replay, you could just make out who it was. The man from Ohio.

You decided to go home, not to hide, but to arm yourself. You were done hiding or running from that man, so you would be prepared to fight. To end it all. Him, Billy, anyone else who dared stand in your path. With the way you were feeling, you thought you might even cut down Matt if he tried to intervene.

You showered away the incident on the bridge, letting the water take away the small bits of gravel still stuck to your skin. It burned the fresh wounds but you let the pain sit there until your skin closed itself. You could’ve sworn you felt your rib shifting under your skin to try and right itself. There was a distinct scraping feeling just below the surface, like something was burrowing between your muscles and your lungs. It was a terrible pain, enough to make you nauseous as tears stung your eyes, but you forced yourself through it. The bones would never fully mend but it would be enough. You’d continue to put yourself back together until that ability failed you, which you knew it inevitably would. It had once, but luckily you had people who cared to bring you back. You may not always have that.

You debated your suit. You packed your staffs, belt, gun, Bites, mask, and shock disks into a bag while you thought. You wanted to wear your suit and feel it all come together, but you couldn’t fully bring yourself to it. This wasn’t something Exodus started. Livia did, and Livia would stay to see the hard work done.

So you wore fitted pants with your vigilante boots, a dark compression shirt, your usual gloves, and your long sleeve. You thought if you should go after them directly, track them by their fear or arrogance, but your mind kept wandering to Amy.

Had she gotten out of the hospital? Did she make it to the trailer? Or had she looked into Matt Murdock and gone to him? To her, he was just a name but you knew she understood what he meant to you, just how much you trusted him. Would she trust him the same?

You were reaching for your door handle when you were slammed by fear. It beat against the inside of your chest like a battering ram against a steel door, reverberating through your ribcage to a point where your breath stuttered. You backed away to your kitchen and spit in your sink. You hit the tap and tried to rinse the taste off your tongue but it wouldn’t leave.

It wasn’t your fear. It was from somewhere distant, from someone familiar. Your first thought was Frank but that man didn’t know fear, only anger. Revenge. It wouldn’t be Billy. You hadn’t felt his emotions in over a year. It couldn’t be Matt. He wasn’t involved in any of it, charged with keeping June out of trouble while you were away. That only left…

Amy.

You hurried to your door and threw it open, sprinting down your hall and down the stairs. You thought about your car but by the time you found your keys, got into your car, started the car, and pulled off, she could’ve been long gone or even dead. So you gripped your bag’s strap and ran.

You ran as fast your legs could take you, shouldering past people in front of you and mumbling apologies. Some threw curses at you, a few pushed back, but no one tried to stop you.

Night had fallen by the time you got to the trailer. As you were running up the dirt path, Frank pulled in beside you and you nearly ran into the front fender. You squinted through the headlights and saw Frank throwing his hands towards you and complaining. You scoffed and turned back to the trailer. Your eyes caught on the light coming from underneath.

Frank came up beside you and began to lecture you about running in front of moving cars, but he silenced when you reached out for him. You hand closed around the fabric of his sleeve and he reached for your elbow. He gently pulled you forward and you followed him inside.

Frank tended to Curtis, who was lying on the floor in pain, and you hurried to the back room. You checked the bedroom and bathroom, but both were empty. Your own panic began to close your throat but you had to force it down. You could feel Frank on the edge of a breakdown so you cleared your thoughts. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and used both hands to force your power through the room.

You saw the wisps move like fog, breezing through the small trailer and then fading out. Frank was calmer, though still frazzled, and Curtis was basically the same.

You heard Curtis explain that she ran and you felt some of the tension loosen in your chest. Frank used Curtis’ phone to call Amy but the phone was ringing from outside. Without thinking, you threw yourself through the door, a naive sense of hope flooding your veins. It ran icy when you found her cell abandoned on the ground.

You wanted to scream, but kicked the taillight out of the nearest vehicle instead. Frank went and dragged his hostage out the car and into the RV. You leaned quietly against the sink while Frank did what Frank did.

Your fingers drummed against your crossed arms as your brain flipped through questions like a rolodex.

Where could she be? Where would that man take her? How did he find her? What would you use to kill him? Why didn’t you give her the tracker like you did Lieberman’s daughter? Was she okay?

You dreaded the thought that maybe she was dead. Logic told you she wasn’t. She was leverage, bait even. Ohio Man wouldn’t waste that, not unless he had something better. But truthfully, nothing would be better to get you and Frank in the same place as the possibility of Amy being in danger.

“He’s truly scared of you.” You commented when the silence grew thick. “I can see it.”

“Good.” Frank said flatly.

“Listen, David.” You pushed off and crossed the room, leaning your hip against Frank’s shoulder. “Russians paid for these photos and then someone else found out. Suddenly… Everyone involved gets killed. Now you don’t seem the person to do that…” You looked him up and down and smiled slightly as his fear climbed and the yellow fog rumbled with new fear. “No, you don’t have the stomach for it, but I’m thinking that you know who does.”

Recognition crossed his features, quickly shifting to despair.

“No… No they- They wouldn’t.” He tried quietly but it was clear he was trying to convince himself.

“Who?” You urged, plucking at his restraint. “Tell us who it was and this ends so much sooner.” You coated your voice in fake sympathy. “I know you’re hurting, David. I know you’re scared, but just give us what we need and it can all end.”

“I swear to you I’m not part of this. I would never do this.” The man was near tears. You shoved off and patted Frank’s shoulder before going back across the room. You dropped into a chair near the table and leaned against the wall.

You were tired. You missed your friends. You wanted your kid back. You closed your eyes for a moment when you got a text from Dinah.

- need backup at dumonts. meet me? -

You raised a quiet brow and glanced at Frank. He was so enthralled in whatever he was doing that he didn’t notice. You stepped around Curtis and out the door. You headed to meet Dinah, quick strides but not quite a run. There was an urgency in her text you didn’t miss, but you were still so distracted with wherever Amy was. Your head might be for helping Dinah but your heart wanted to tear through New York till Amy was with you again.

But you knew Frank would get what you both needed. He’d get a location or a name. By the time you got back, he’d have everything ready to go. You had your gun out of your bag and a knife at your back. It wasn’t much, but to back up Dinah against a psychiatrist, it should be enough.

You could hear the fight as you approached the apartment. You loaded a comment about starting the fun without you and kicked the door open. You had less than a minute to learn the layout of the apartment. Rooms to your left, living room and kitchen to your right.

The fight was in the kitchen.

You got inside and saw Krista had Dinah’s head nearing the flame of the kettle. You reached for the kettle and knob simultaneously. Her head snapped up and you smiled in greeting before swinging the kettle at her. She screeched in panic and ducked, dropping her hold on Dinah.

You didn’t make contact but the hot water came out the spout and hit her arm, making her cry out again. From her position on the floor, she lunged for your legs. You sidestepped quickly and dropped to press your knee against her spine. You placed your hand firmly at the back of her head and forced her against the ground.

Dinah scrambled to the next room.

Krista thrashed beneath you and began elbowing the ankle you had on the ground. You rolled your eyes and leaned into the knee on her back to lift and slam your foot down on her hand. You pulled your blade and shifted your foot, only to drive it down and through her hand.

She cried out. You didn’t care.

You looked up to find Dinah and Krista threw the entirety of her weight to the side and you were thrown off. You hit the cabinets hard and she was able to get to her feet. You heard the squelch of her flesh as the knife was removed. Her hands scrambled over the countertop and she came back brandishing a steak knife in her bloodied hand. She looked down at you and the murderous intent was clear, but you didn’t miss the underlying motive. Protection.

It wasn’t hard to figure out that she was trying to protect Billy, and she was clearly willing to do whatever she had to. She wouldn’t stop until you and Dinah were dead. You expected a fight, but Krista had turned it into a death match.

She let out a loud cry and she fell to her knees in front of you before jabbing the knife forward. You caught her wrist and shoved her aside, forcing the knife’s tip into the cabinet door. You slammed your elbow against her jaw repeatedly until you heard the crack of splitting wood which told you she had freed the blade. Your head whipped towards it, which was a mistake, and as she pulled the knife back, the serrated edge skirted your cheek. You cried out and shoved her away.

You got to Dinah quickly, but before you could say anything, Krista slammed into you both. The three of you hit the ground hard and your shoulder smacked the edge of her coffee table.

At least she abandoned the knife.

You looked around and caught Dinah’s eye. She nodded to the window and then looked pointedly at Krista, who was groaning as she climbed to her feet. You nodded and moved to the other end of the couch while Dinah went for the other woman.

They struggled, shoving back and forth and reaching for throats. Dinah finally broke Krista’s hold and kicked at her chest, throwing her into your grip. You smiled as you latched onto her arms. With a small swing, you slammed her face first against the window.

Immediately, her fear was visible. You kept a hand at the back of her head, face squished against the glass, and she squirmed under your hold. With your free hand, you pulled your gun. You shoved off her, hearing a whimper as a response, and aimed. You fired four shots, two on either side.

Krista flinched at the sound and shakily turned to face you. You saw her bloody handprint on the glass before you slammed your shoulder against her chest.

The glass shattered with an echoing sound. Her scream filled any gaps for silence and you watched her limbs flail as she went down. You put your gun away as you did. Her body smacked the concrete hard, with enough force for her to bounce and hit again. The crowd gathered almost immediately.

You backed away from the window and grabbed Dinah’s arms. You spun her and tried to push her to the door but she seemed frozen.

Shock, you realized. Dinah was in shock.

You made a noise to yourself before checking the window. The crowd grew but no lights. No sirens.

You still had time. At least, you thought you did.

Your eyes locked with a hooded figure and the despair slammed you like a punch in the jaw. However, it quickly melted into rage, pure hatred. You backed away in a hurry and grabbed Dinah’s hand.

You yanked her with you, paused only to shove her jacket into her hands and tuck your bloodied knife away. You realized the fire was still on, and while you considered leaving it, you didn’t want to burn the entire building down. You hustled to twist the knob and looked back to Dinah.

There was no more time. You could feel Billy coming down the hall.

“Dinah.” You grabbed both her arms and shook her. “Come back. Come on!” You urged.

He was only a few doors down.

“Billy’s coming.” You shook her again. “I can’t fight him and look out for you.”

No response.

You groaned and quickly looked around, spotting the tip of Dinah’s gun under the table. You scrambled for it quickly and shoved it into her hands. She looked at the gun, then you, then it seemed to sink in what you had said. She nodded vigorously and you breathed out in relief.

It didn’t last long.

Billy slammed through the door, firing blindly and screaming. You dropped to the ground and slid around the corner, brandishing your bloodied knife, while Dinah spun to take cover in a room off to the side. Once he stepped into the living room, you acted.

You kicked out his knee and he buckled. His rage turned on you and you swiped the blade, catching his stomach. and he growled. You caught a glimpse of Dinah coming back into the living room.

You planted a hand on the ground and leaned into it, allowing you enough balance to swing your foot and kick at the slice. Your foot hit hard and he crumpled a little more. You dropped the blade and dove forward, tackling Billy to his back.

You had a comment loaded about a familiar view and different circumstances, but you ignored the opportunity. Instead, you made sure the gun slid away before you started slamming your fist against his face. His head jerked to the side with the impact and you watched the blood splatter out of his mouth and onto Krista’s hardwood floors.

He caught your next punch and twisted your wrist outward, his thumb purposefully digging into the bullet scar. You whined before he yanked down and pulled you off him. You hit your elbow on the ground first and before you knew it, Billy had you pinned. Both his hands closed around your throat and you grasped one of his wrists, fighting to get your other hand behind your back for your gun.

“You had to make it about her.” He said angrily, venom lacing his words as the hatred in them burned against your skin.

“I should’ve-“ You choked out. “Killed you at- At that ap- Apartment.”

The shot firing broke the silence and you flinched slightly. Billy crumpled against you for a moment and you took the chance to throw him off you. You scooted away quickly and freed your gun, quickly firing into his leg before he could get to his feet.

You felt Dinah’s hands under your arms and you let her help you to your feet. Your eyes scanned the area and you couldn’t find your blade. That made your stomach pitch, even briefly considering Billy using it, but you forced the thought away. Just because you didn’t see it didn’t mean Billy had it. Maybe it was just under the furniture.

Immediately after you had the thought, he proved you wrong. Your blade came through the side of your leg, angled down towards your knee, and you fell back to the ground. You scooted yourself away as Billy tackled Dinah to the ground. Every movement of the joint sent a jolt of pain and you bit your lip hard trying to keep your noises down.

You yanked your blade out roughly and used it to slice a strip of the curtain off. You tied it around your wound as tight as you could and gripped your knife’s handle. You leaned on the couch and you came around and found Billy on top of Dinah, both of them gripping the other’s throat. You rocked back a bit and threw yourself against Billy’s side.

He fell away and your instinct was to look at Dinah, just to see if she’s alive, but you couldn’t risk it. Instead, you slid on the side of your leg and got to Billy’s side. His eyes met yours and you turned your head to spit on the floor. Then you looked back and drove your blade into his stomach.

Once, twice, thrice.

He sputtered, blood trickling out his mouth, but you quickly slammed a fist against the side of his head and he fell limp. You dropped to a seat and heaved a sigh. As soon as you stopped moving, your adrenaline died and the pain flared.

Your knee felt on fire. Your cheek stung. Your elbow throbbed. Your throat burned. You leaned against the arm of the couch and gave in to the pain. You whined to yourself as you felt it grow, felt it sit under your skin while your body tried to mend itself. You could feel the edges of the slice on your cheek and the gash on your knee reaching for the other side, the tissues in your throat reforming after the swelling, the bruise on your elbow breaking apart. It was familiar, the pain of healing, but it was too much at the same time. You closed your eyes, only intended for a moment, and you felt yourself fall into unconsciousness.

It wasn’t long until you came to. The pains across your body were dull aches and you could see the lights of police cars on the street. You didn’t know where they were so you had to run. You ignored Dinah laying beside you but you couldn’t ignore the pool of blood. It wasn’t yours, but it had grown far enough to reach your pant leg.

You pushed to your feet and saw Billy was missing. You looked up and cursed God again for taking that victory away from you. Your knife was gone with him and you hoped that if he dared to pull it out, it’d take the last bit of strength he had. You ran a hand down your face and came to sudden realization that there was no mask to hide behind.

Your stomach pitched at the potential danger you were in. Billy Russo gone, Krista Dumont on the sidewalk in a pile of glass, Dinah Madani unconscious at your feet. It was a massacre and you were at the center of it. Your head was ringing, like someone was aggressively shaking a bell in your skull, when you realized it was your implant. Someone calling.

You snuck into the hallway, hearing the officers coming up the stairs. You went the other way down the hall until you found another stairwell. You inched the door open, heard no one, and darted inside. With a new and temporary limp, you made your way down the stairs and to the back alley.

You reached up to call back but no one answered. You shook your head, crept closer to the street to get your bearings, and made your way back to the trailer.

You’d reconvene with Frank, take a few hours to finish recovery, gear up fully, and go after your kid. You still had to find Amy.

You didn’t know how long it took you to get back. With the limp, seemingly having grown worse as you went, and the only moving via alleys, it felt like you took hours to get back. It could’ve been less than one. The moon was still out, that was all you knew.

You came through the door and Curtis stood immediately. He practically ran to your side when he saw you limp, taking on most of your weight until he got you to the closest chair. He examined the healing wound on your knee then promptly went off for a kit to clean and stitch it. You were grateful for it and the stinging of the needle was a welcome distraction from the vaguely familiar man staring at you with a pathetic plea in his eyes.

You looked at Curtis with a raised brow but he simply shook his head. You glanced back at the senator and found it wasn’t necessarily fear anymore. More apologetic, ashamed even. You said nothing.

The silence dragged on for what felt like an eternity until finally the stitches were done. Curtis patted your leg and you smiled in thanks. Quietly, he got up and left, taking Frank’s captive with him.

You rubbed the joint gently and winced as the blossoming bruise protested your touch. You limped to the bathroom and found a long wrap. You worked it around your knee and fastened it tightly, both enjoying and hating the compression it offered. It was a little while longer until Frank came back.

“Where is she?” You managed, though your voice came out raspy.

“He has her. She followed him, called us for help, and he took her.” Frank said.

He was angry and it unfortunately was pointed at you as well. It didn’t take a genius to know that the call you had gotten earlier was Amy. You missed a chance to get her, a chance to end that battle, because you were fighting Billy. All of that and you didn’t even know if Billy was dead. He was also angry at himself, for not being able to keep her. And he was angry at her for getting herself caught.

“And where the hell were you, huh?” Frank asked and the accusation was hard to miss.

You glared at him slightly, wondering what he thought you were doing that was enough for you to miss Amy’s call and come back with a bloody leg, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. You didn’t have it in you to argue.

“Took a shot at Billy.” You admitted. “Don’t know if it’s done but he left about half his blood on the floor… I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Yeah…” Frank sighed, coming over to your side. He dropped a hand to your shoulder and gave a small squeeze. Your head fell against his forearm and you reached up to pat his hand. “You gonna be alright?”

“Always am, Frank.”

Frank stepped away to take a call. He was gone less than a minute but came back with that look you’d come to expect from him. A fight was coming and it was coming fast. You gestured for Frank to give you his hand and he helped you out of the chair.

You made your way to your bag, which you had left on the small kitchen table, and began fitting equipment into place. Your belt clipped easily around your hips and you filled its sheaths with the appropriate weapons. You slung your pack over your shoulders and you decided to leave your mask behind. Your Bites fit securely to your wrists and the blue light from them loosened a knot in your chest.

When you were ready, you and Frank decided to wait outside. He sat on the little step leading into the trailer and you positioned yourself along the junk cars. You were kneeling in the dirt, drawing figures on the ground out of boredom when the car finally pulled up.

Frank and the Man had their exchange with Amy in the middle. When she finally caught your eyes, you saw the shock make her pupils go wide. You held a finger to your lips to keep her quiet and she gave you a small nod.

You crept around the cars until you were behind their exchange. You stood and revealed yourself, flexing your hands to wake your Bites. You heard Frank tell the man - who’s name you finally learned to be John - to point the gun at him because he’d do anything for Amy.

Frank’s eyes met yours for a second but you didn’t need words for his intent.

Not yet.

You recognized that John’s gun was too close to Amy’s head, his finger too close to the trigger. So you waited, tense and ready to fight. To protect Amy and Frank, whatever the cost. You knew Frank wasn’t bulletproof, even if he believed he was, but your shirt at least was. You’d put yourself in front of whatever bullet was intended for them, because they were your family.

You’d do anything for them.

“Where’s your friend?” John asked and your head tilted.

You backed away slowly, though your weapons remained ready. You kept moving until you were able to crouch behind the car.

“Let the girl go.” You called finally. “Come on, John. You just said you have kids. Let her go, I’ll come out, and we’ll settle this.”

You didn’t look up but you felt the relief from Frank and Amy. You smiled to yourself, blinking away the tears of your own relief, before you stood. Your hands were raised and John’s gun found aim at your chest almost immediately. You kept his gaze and he frowned at your outfit. You wondered if he recognized the top, but you also couldn’t remember if that was the one you wore when you fought him last time.

You were pulled from the thought when Amy’s arms wrapped around you. Immediately, you hugged back and allowed yourself to forget John’s presence.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled against you. “I’m sorry, Livia. I tried to call but-“

“Hey.” You stepped back enough to look her in the eyes. “It’s not your fault, okay? Listen, I’m gonna give you an address. You drive straight there and knock on his door. Don’t stop knocking until he answers.”

“But Frank said-“

“I’m not worried about that.” You cut in. “You tell him that I sent you. He’ll look out for you till I come get you, alright?”

“Who is it?” She sniffled.

“You finally get to meet Red.” You smiled slightly and guided her into the car. You leaned across her to put in Matt’s address in the GPS. You scribbled his apartment number on her hand with a pen you found on the center console. “June should be with him. Tell them I’ll see you all soon.”

“Don’t die.” She whined and your heart broke. You were painfully reminded of how young she really was.

“We won’t.”

You shut the door and walked to Frank’ side with your hands raised again. You felt John’s gun following you, but it was the least of your concerns. When you heard the horn, likely part of Frank’s orders, you felt like you could breathe again.

“Where’d you send her?” Frank asked quietly.

“Red.” You replied in the same low tone. “He’ll watch out for her.”

“He still looking out for your mini?”

“Yeah.” You smiled slightly. “She’s in good hands.”

“I know.” He nodded.

Frank and John had a quick exchange about David. Both men took dangerous steps towards each other and your whole body tensed. Once John was close enough, you acted.

You dropped a knee and shot a wire around his ankles. As you yanked his feet out, Frank was there to make sure he hit the ground. Frank pounded away at the man so you ditched the wire and hurried to kick the gun away from John’s reach. However, that didn’t stop John from hurting Frank with an old car part.

You reached behind and pulled both staffs, twisting them together quickly as John collected a new weapon of his own. Frank was regaining his bearings when you stood in front of your shared opponent.

He swung it at your head and just got your staff up in time to block it. You twisted around to force the weapon, what looked like a shovel, to the ground. Your foot slammed on top of it and you jerked the edge of your weapon to hit his jaw. He staggered and you jammed your knee up into his stomach.

His hold on the shovel fell. You kicked out at his chest to force him back against the closest car. Without hesitation, you moved in and pressed your staff against his throat.

You wanted him to die. You watched to watch the light fade from his eyes, to feel him struggle for his last breath. You wanted to kill him for everything he had done to you, to Amy, to Frank.

The thought brought out something long buried, something you didn’t want to fight against. You let that floodgate open, let the rage and pain and anger spill out.

The red haze across your thoughts and your vision served as enough of a distraction for John to use against you. One of his hands grabbed your arm and the other landed on the side of your head. He jerked you to the side and slammed your head against the car’s windshield twice. He kept you pinned, leaning his weight against your skull, and you had to squeeze one eye shut. The glass spidered beneath you and he twisted your head, slicing razor thin lines open across half your face.

Vaguely, you wondered if that was only a small fraction of the pain Frank inflicted on Billy back at the carousel with the mirror.

The pressure suddenly disappeared and you slid down the car. You dropped into the dirt, fresh blood seeping from the thin wounds. You blinked it away but you couldn’t quite tell if it was out of your eye, given the red tint the scene had taken on.

Frank had stepped in while you tried to regain control. You weren’t trying to fight the manic rage in your head or the burning sensation through your muscles. You were willing to use it, but you needed to direct it. You needed focus.

With a flex of your hands, both Bites ignited while you scanned the scene in front of you. The bright blue shifted to red and you could all but feel the electricity in your blood. It was the only thing that seemed to ground you into the present moment. That and the stinging pain down half your face.

John had just thrown Frank to the ground and was reaching for a length of chain. You twisted the long staff apart and threw one piece, ricocheting it off the ground to smack John in the throat. He stumbled away and you ran at him again.

You slipped the other staff into the pack before you shouldered into his side with enough force to head a crack. He hit the ground and rolled a few feet away. You heard the clink of the chain behind you, John coughing and wheezing in front you, while you patted your belt for a quick inventory.

Shock disks. Bites. Staff. Gun.

Your knife had disappeared when Billy did. Your retractable was long since gone. That was a weapon you didn’t think you’d miss.

You slipped two shock disks between your fingers and tightened your hands into fists. John stood unsteadily but still came at you. He landed a few heavy hits to your jaw, knocking you off balance slightly. He grabbed your chin, forced you to look at him as he raised his fist for what he intended to be a finishing blow. You took the opportunity to slam your fist into his stomach.

His entire body tensed with the electricity, gripping tighter to your face. You pried his fingers off with your other hands and shoved him away. Frank was at your side within moments, kicking at John’s head before helping you get some distance.

“You alright?” You asked before moving your jaw around. You felt the familiar throb of pain but it was still in place.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, pretending like he wasn’t covered in blood. Whose blood it was, you couldn’t say. “You?”

“Never better.” You smiled.

Frank threw himself back into the fight before you could. Fighting with Frank was starkly different than fighting with Matt. You and Matt fought in tandem, alternating punches with complimentary styles. You two moved like a pair of dancers or figure skaters, lifelong partners that could anticipate each other’s moves.

You and Frank fight in waves. His ambush would come, then while he took a retreat, you attacked. You two would alternate, creating a never ending barrage of offense. Neither of you stayed down too long because the other one always found a gap to haul the other up. You two fought like the soldiers you were.

It came to be your turn when John tackled Frank to the ground.

You took a short running start to slide on your knees around the fallen man, firing both Bites as you went. He convulsed with the sudden shock as your momentum stopped. Bracing your hands flat against the dirt, you slammed both feet forward to send John to his back.

Your previously discarded staff was close by so you scooped it up, swiped the rotating mechanism, and heard the distinct sound of the blade releasing. You jammed it forward but John managed to avoid the impalement, suffering a gash along his side instead. You shifted to a kneel and slashed upwards, cutting across the fronts of his legs as he tried to stand, then you threw the weapon like a javelin. It buried itself in his shoulder and he cried out.

You got to your feet before searching for Frank. Losing focus was your mistake. John had yanked out and discarded your weapon before he tackled you. His bloodied shoulder slammed your rib cage and the disconnected bones shifted suddenly. You screamed at the pain but John didn’t ease up. He kept pushing until your back hit a car and he could yank you over the hood.

You tried to push yourself up and get some distance, but the sharp pain made you collapse, your back flush on the hood and your head hanging off the other end. John took the opportunity to slam his elbow against the center of your chest, hard enough that you practically flipped over yourself.

Air was knocked out of your lungs. You were dizzy from the pain. Your head hurt. Your leg still hurt, even more now. The bruise was already forming across your sternum. You could barely hear the thunks, thuds, and grunts as Frank and John continued the brawl.

You wanted it over. You were just so damned tired.

You pushed yourself up and forced your feet to move. You limped over, practically dragging the useless leg behind you. Frank had gotten John to his knees by then. You stood behind John, gripping a suspender in either hand. Hard yanks allowed you to cross them over opposite shoulders and you pinned your knee between his shoulder blades while you pulled the strips of material back.

“When you- kill them-“ John choked out. Frank hesitated to listen and you rolled your eyes. “Don’t hurt- my boys.”

Frank looked at you, a silent request for you to wait. You considered it, put yourself in John’s shoes. If it was the other way around and John was going to kill you, you wouldn’t want him to go after your girls. If your last words were asking for June and Amy’s safety, you’d be okay dying.

You let go of the suspenders and John greedily gasped for air. Frank offered you a hand and you limped around to stand beside him.

“I know who you are.” John looked between you both. “You are Death.”

“What if…” Your voice was a rasp so you cleared your throat. “You mentioned your boys. What about their mother?”

“God called her home while I was here.” He confessed, nearing tears.

The red haze broke apart and you blinked at the clarity. You also understood you couldn’t orphan those boys.

“They did that on purpose.” You knelt in front of John. Frank’s hand landed on your shoulder. “They took you from your boys and your wife when they needed you so even if you failed, they had what they wanted. They’ll turn your boys into what they’ve made you. If I can keep my girls from becoming like me, I’d do anything… What if there’s a way to bring you back to your boys and end this?”

“You fight with the Devil in your eyes.” John said calmly. “But you have a good heart.”

“What do you say, John?” Frank asked. “Let’s go get your boys, eh?”

John sniffled then nodded. He looked at you both with tears shining in his eyes.

You knew you made the right choice.

The next morning, your body was stiff as you climbed out of bed. The deep purple bruise took over your chest. The stitched wound at your knee was red and swollen, making bending the joint hard. The white of your eye was red but the thin slices had healed. Your rib was less painful but you could feel it shift with each breath.

When your phone rang with the unknown number, you hesitated to answer it. Curiosity took over.

It was Billy. He confessed he was bleeding out, said he didn’t want to die alone. He didn’t expect you to forgive him. He just wanted company.

Something long since buried made you go to him. You did, however, have enough sense to text Frank to meet you there just in case.

You walked into the building and immediately knew you two were alone. Your gun was a comfortable pressure against your hip as you found the room he was in. You made a point to sit on the floor well out of his reach.

“How the mighty have fallen.” You commented.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come.” He smiled weakly. “It’s good to see you, Livs.”

“Was it worth it?” You asked instead of acknowledging his sentiment. The worst part was that you could feel he actually meant it. “Abandoning the people who cared about you?”

He scoffed slightly, which turned to a cough and more blood spilled out his mouth. “We both know you didn’t- didn’t actually care.”

“I did.” You nodded. You figured it was about time to confess it all, especially if he wasn’t going to live much longer. “Bill, I would’ve… I thought you were going to be the one to bring me back after I lost Matt. I was scared of admitting I loved you because everyone I love gets hurt. I had just lost someone that meant everything to me. I wasn’t going to risk anyone else like that.”

“Do you remember when I said we could get married?” Another small smile.

“Yeah, we were both drunk off our asses.” You chuckled slightly. “You said there was a chapel not too far from Anvil and it’d be fun.”

“You didn’t say no.”

“Because I was trying to decide if it was worth the risk.”

“Livs-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“Livia.” He corrected. “Everything I’ve done to hurt you, I don’t expect you to forgive me.” He spoke with an unexpected genuineness that threw you for a moment. l

A deathbed apology was usually just to clear a guilty conscious in your experience. But Billy said those words knowing you’d be unlikely to forgive him. You felt compelled to hear him out.

“I’m not sorry for what’s happened to you.” You said plainly. “I did love you, Billy Russo, but I mourned that man a long time ago.”

You reached into your pocket and withdrew the watch he had given you. You flipped it over, ran your thumb along his etched initials, then tossed it to him. It landed atop one of many blood stains on his shirt.

“That was one of the last things you gave me.” You explained.

“Why’d you keep it?” He asked, pupils blown wide as he fought to stay. “If you hated me so bad.”

You sighed slightly, your thumb running over the bullet scar. “I guess I used to hope that when I saw you again, you’d look the same. Like you did before everything… I thought I’d see my Billy, not whatever Rawlins made you. But honestly, I’m not even sure what you became.”

Frank came in before Billy could respond. He stood behind you like a guardian taking post. Billy tried to say he was happy Frank was there and apologize, but Frank didn’t let him get the words out. You flinched at the gunshots but said nothing. You felt nothing.

You had already mourned Billy Russo, so seeing his dead body stirred nothing. Just a faint sense of relief at the thought of a threat eliminated.

“You alright?” Frank asked as you two left.

“Yeah.” You nodded slightly.

The night came sooner than you expected and it was time to put an end to the Schultzs’ plans. You didn’t know their son David enough to care about his career or his life falling apart over the pictures. You didn’t even care about the pictures themselves. It was about going after the people who sent someone for you and your family.

So long as they lived, your family’s fate was unknown. You wouldn’t stand for that.

Amy went in first but you refused to let her in alone. You ignored the mask, wanting them to look clearly into the eyes of the woman who’d end them. Frank was beside you while Amy did her talking. You two took post in the next room. angling yourselves for a clear sightline.

When you saw the wife make a move for Amy, you fired your weapon. Your bullet went through her hand and the knife clattered free. Frank’s gunshot came next, blowing a hole through her head.

The husband screamed in terror while you two marched in.

You stood quietly one protective step in front of Amy while Frank made his threats. Amy warned of going to the Bulletin with her evidence. You knew that Karen wouldn’t hesitate to run the story with or without her editor’s approval, and you’d be by her side throughout whatever backlash came from it.

“It’s your choice.” You said flatly, tossing an empty gun to the table. You pulled out a single bullet, examining it thoughtfully as you continued. “You take that gun, put it in your mouth, and blow out the back of your head. Be with your wife.” You looked at the man. Yellow fog surrounded him like a blanket and you smiled. “Or you live. Live with the truth of what you’ve done.”

You carefully placed the bullet on the table before leaving. Amy was right behind you and Frank followed after, a neat line as you left the Schultz estate.

You weren’t even out the driveway when the gun went off.

The last exchange with John was silent, understanding nods before he loaded his sons and left.

The next day, you and Frank were at the bus depot with Amy. She tried to convince Frank to go with her but he refused, saying he didn’t need her on his conscious.

“Does that means he cares?” Amy teased, looking at you with faux shock.

“Even the Grinch’s heart can grow.” You laughed and it got a chuckle out of Frank. “You’re young, Amy. Go have fun, be a kid.”

“I care about you guys, too.” She said genuinely. “I owe you pretty much everything.”

“And you’ll repay me by living your life, okay?” You squeezed her hand.

“Yeah.” She nodded with a forced smile before looking to Frank. “Why did you come after me in the bar that night?”

“The tougher you acted, the more scared you looked.” He shrugged.

“And you?” She focused back on you. “Why’d you stay?”

“You reminded me of someone.” You smiled slightly. “I couldn’t save her, but I could save you…”

You glanced around while Amy and Frank shared a hushed conversation. You caught sight of a familiar figure standing a few benches away. She met your eyes and offered an understanding smile. You nodded and she came closer.

Suddenly, you were pulled into an embrace. One of Amy’s arms was around your neck and the other around Frank. You felt Frank grab onto your arm tightly as Amy was sandwiched between you two. There was a cold chill throughout the embrace and you could hear her sniffles.

“You’ll be okay.” You told her quietly when you pulled away. Gently, you wiped a tear from her cheek.

“She’s lucky to have you.” Amy said sadly. Your brows furrowed and she gave a weak laugh. “June.”

“Take care of yourself.” You smiled sadly.

Frank reached for your hand as Amy went to climb onto the bus. You slid over to sit beside him and a new presence filled your old seat.

“What are you doing here?” You asked her.

“Thought you two would want some company.” June said softly. “Hey, Frank.”

“Hey, Junebug.” He smiled slightly.

15 notes · View notes

kurooh · 1 month ago

Text

WORLD CLASS SINNER ★ JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. featuring gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, & kamo choso fucking you nasty.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, car sex, creampies, overstimulation, crying, spanking, slight public sex, mirror sex, spit, hair pulling, freaky shit, motorcycle sex, riding (multiple things), filming, squirting, cunnilingus. | 4.7K words

xoxo, juno. happy belated birthday to satoru <3

GOJO SATORU.

“for the record, i love you,” satoru pecks a kiss to your cheek and his lips smack, “it is december 7th and ‘m getting my gift early.”

“it is not early!” you protest, snatching the phone from him and wiggling over to the side so you can mount it on the tall dresser. the camera app is open, overlooking the bed and ready to record satoru’s birthday celebration this year. bits of dry frosting color the corners of his lips, serving as the evidence of the cake you made him yourself.

“uh, no need to move so much,” satoru exhales coolly, hands finding purchase on your hips, “you said we’d take it slow, didn’t ya?”

“that was then,” you purr, voice low and sultry, “and this is now. unless . . you actually want me to?”

he shakes his head immediately, cheeks flushing a rosy pink while he pouts his lips. satoru sneaks a glance downwards, diamond eyes feeling a little wet at the sight — you’re sitting on his cock, with your cunt squeezing just above the creamy ring at his base.

“i thought so, ‘toru,” you giggle, blowing a kiss in the direction of the camera. it’ll surely add to the excitement when he’s watching this by himself some time along — after all, nothing else can get him off. your hands splay out on his chest, nails grazing his skin lightly.

“anyway, i’ve just been thinking . . and you’ve been such a good boy this year. i ought to spoil you for your birthday, hm?”

“what did you just call me?” satoru sputters, biting back a laugh although his voice trembles. “did you just say—”

the words die on his tongue immediately. your expression twists into one of pure bliss as you start to rock your hips into him, setting up a decent pace that has you crying out in delight. of course, he has no choice but to join you, his head tipping back while his eyes trace your features. god, you feel good — so tight, so hot, and oh so perfect. but sex feels even better because he’s pleasing you; seeing you falling apart on his cock all because of him will always get him going.

“shit, baby,” satoru gasps, groaning loudly when your fingers tangle in his snowy hair, “faster, please.”

you nod frantically, lifting yourself up and slamming back down on his cock so hard it’s like you’re being split open in the best way possible. out of habit, your fingers wander to your clit, and he pushes them away the moment he sees.

“no, don’t,” he replaces your fingers with his own and lets his free hand settle at the small of your back for support, “let me do it, babe.”

“toru,” you whimper as he flicks the sensitive bud around, “y-you always make me feel so good.”

“‘course i do, sweetheart,” he grunts, starting to jerk his hips upward. each deep thrust pushes his cock into places only he can touch, and your mouth falls open, face crumbling. “here, jus’ arch your back a little—yeah, you got it.”

satoru’s voice wavers as he tells you what to do, setting up a new position and angle for him to fuck into you at. beads of sweat roll down his temples while his chest heaves in exertion, the best kind — he’s never truly gotten tired when he’s fucking you. not only does he have the stamina of a wild stallion, but really, how could he get tired when you’re looking like an angel above him, crying out his name in a voice that’s a harmony if he’s ever heard one.

“so fuckin’ beautiful,” satoru grits out, eyes regretfully squeezing shut for a moment, “god, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep squeezin’ like that.”

curses and sobs of euphoria fall from your lips. as the seconds pass, you’re only getting more intoxicated by the heat between you. misty tears make your eyes shine, and arousal pools deep in your stomach, growing more pronounced with each shove of his cock into your sweet spot. your legs are trembling on either side of him, and your tummy’s slightly more rounded than usual—satoru’s cock is in your guts.

he feels you start to tense up, notices a few stray tears falling down your cheeks. this is it. “l-look at me, baby,” satoru pleads, as if he’ll die without it, “look at me when you cum.”

it’s perfect — you look directly into his eyes, and the camera captures your orgasm perfectly. your cunt flutters and spasms around his cock, and you’re shaking so hard you fall on top of him, flinching away from his insistent fingers. it takes everything he has to hold the urge to cum back, but he manages to pull it off, not even spilling a drop.

“toru,” you mumble into his chest, shivering as he strokes away the sweat on your back, “why didnt you—?”

“savin’ it,” he breathes, teeth sinking into his lower lip in an attempt to try and ignore the way your walls are flexing around him. “hmph. as the birthday boy, i expect you to blow another candle for me.”

your head lifts immediately and you shoot him a glare, eyes narrowed in faux annoyance. “you did not just say that.”

“careful, careful,” he hisses, hands flying to your hips, “don’t wanna accidentally cum right now.”

“right, but you’ll never push me off,” you challenge him, playfully wiggling against his pelvis.

“that is not fair!” satoru whines, looking ridiculous with the dried blue frosting at the corners of his lips. “don’t torture me, pleaseee.”

GETO SUGURU.

“keep your eyes open, sweetheart.”

“‘m sorry, sugu, i just—”

his hand comes down hard against your ass, and the crack of the slap reverberates through the room. you shudder, blearily opening your eyes and looking into the mirror.

behind you, suguru’s flipping a bit of his dark hair over his shoulder and out of the way while holding onto your waist to keep you steady. you can see how pathetic you look in your reflection — drool freely slips from your mouth and you look completely dazed, all sweaty and tired while hearts spin in your eyes.

“hm, that’s more like it. want you to watch yourself, honey.”

you nod, eyes tracing the edges of your thighs and ridges of his abs in the reflection. suguru’s got you on your hands and knees, making you look fucked out and fucked up.

“s-sugu, i wanna touch my clit—it’s not enough.”

he raises a dark brow, eyes narrowing as you slip a hand between your thighs and find your clit with your fingers. now, he settles his hands at your hips, lifting you up slightly to pound into you at a new angle.

“alright. only if you don’t fall over, sweetheart.”

what a bastard. of course he has to set you up with an impossible condition like that — the new placement of his hands is the first sign of your literal downfall. suguru closely observes your reflection in the mirror before his own: you’re covered in bite marks and hickeys, with a sheen of sweat all over your body, which makes your skin look sticky. your tits swing, building momentum each time he slams into you.

beneath the sound of ass clapping, suguru can hear your pathetic, fucked out cries—this is the result of too many orgasms and being an annoying brat to him all day. his blood boils with both frustration and arousal when he recalls a particular memory, so he reaches forward, gathering your hair into one hand before pulling you backwards. messing around with your hair is something that holds a special place in his heart; he loves it whenever you touch his hair in any way, and the same goes for yours.

“takin’ it like such a slut,” suguru croons, his dark tresses falling into his face, “but i really can’t hear you that well. thought i made myself clear when i said i want the whole apartment building to hear how well i fuck you.”

“y-yeah, you did,” you gasp, back arching beautifully, “sugu, need you to touch my clit.”

he smiles wickedly. instead of allowing yourself to fall forward, you’ve decided to give up and steady yourself at the expense of rubbing your clit. suguru almost wants to give you a reward for that.

“not right now, honey,” he revels in the frustrated sob you let out, watching in the mirror as your face crumbles in some kind of distress. so dramatic, he thinks after mentally laughing. as if he’d leave you unsatisfied — how many times have you cum so far? “someone’s fucking greedy, hm? tell you what, sweetheart. cum without your clit ‘n i’ll eat your pussy up right after.”

it’s a good enough deal, and it only seems more enticing when he sticks his tongue out in the mirror, showing off the silver ball in the middle of it. his tongue piercing, and your favorite part of him eating you out.

“o-okay,” you agree tearfully, and he tugs you back by the hair so you’re facing him.

“tell me, tell the neighbors, who’s fucking you this good? answer me, honey.”

“you, suguru!” you moan loudly, feeling a surprising pressure building in your lower stomach, “i-it’s you, ‘s always you!”

suguru nods, letting go of your hair and slipping his hand beneath your chin rather gently. then he lifts your head and tips it back. “open that pretty mouth for me.”

you oblige immediately, going so far as to stick your tongue out for him. he spits right onto your tongue, and it tastes a little minty because of his chapstick and tea when you swallow. the gesture is an erotic expression of dominance and possession, and it’s one that has your cunt quivering around his cock. he lets you go, making eye contact with you through the mirror.

“oh, i feel you squeezing me,” he grunts, smacking your ass and groaning when your cunt automatically bears down harder. “looks like i’ll be devouring that sweet pussy of yours, honey.”

“hah, i need it,” mascara tracks darken your cheeks as fresh tears roll down, “t-think ‘m gonna cum, jus’ like you asked.”

“such a good girl for me,” he praises, egging you on by pressing his palm into your lower stomach, “my girl listens so well, doesn’t she? cum for me.”

the creaking of the bed grows louder as he pounds his cock into you harder, forcing a mixture of slick and cum to pour out from your used hole in glossy strings that stick to your thighs. he’s breathing heavily behind you, pressing into your tummy just right, and oh.

oh, you’re about to make a fucking mess.

a pitched sob tears from your throat when you cum on his cock, pussy gushing all over him and onto the bedsheets. sparkling droplets of cum race down your thighs and your entire body shakes on his cock, gripping him so tightly that neither of you can move.

“s-sugu, ‘m tired,” you gasp, stars flashing across your vision. “feeling kinda . . lightheaded.”

“you’ve gotta rest, sweetheart,” suguru laughs, and it rumbles out from the depths of his chest. he leans so far backwards his back cracks, and then he hands you an open bottle of water.

“what—what’s the record now?”

“ten in an hour,” he strokes your back with loving fingers, curling up beside you even though you’re upside down on the bed together. “let’s try to break it again in a couple hours.”

“how about tomorrow?” you suggest with a yawn.

“okay, okay. tomorrow night, my balls are shriveling up right now.”

“ew, sugu.” your nose crinkles and you scoot an inch away, too exhausted to move further.

“oh, stop it. it’s your fault anyways.”

NANAMI KENTO.

“kento—kennn,” you whine breathlessly, glossy lips parting to release a useless warning. “y-you’re gonna make me cum again, shit!”

“let me feel it, sweetheart,” kento croons, pressing his thumb particularly hard into your clit. the additional pressure has your head spinning too fast for you to even come up with a coherent thought as you orgasm with a drawn out whine on his cock for the nth time tonight. “that—that’s my good girl.”

beneath your bodies, the polished oak desk creaks dangerously, sounding far too tired for something that’s worth thousands. but kento doesn’t give one damn — he’d been stuck working overtime because of his shitty boss, who’d left him cooped up in his office, expecting his orders to be followed. the ultimatum was simple: do a ton of work or get fired.

kento had been so caught up he didn’t get the chance to call you, and the stress he’d been feeling began to ebb away once you stepped through his door with a bag of food from his favorite restaurant. one thing led to another, and soon enough the food had been abandoned somewhere and you ended up on the desk.

papers lazily drift off the desk’s surface while others are inevitably dampened by a mixture of wetness and spit, which leaks from your puffy cunt in thick trails down your skin. again and again, kento’s cock pushes even deeper, the blunt tip of it kissing your cervix rather roughly. meanwhile, his fingers toy with your swollen clit, drawing unrestrained cries from your lips while tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“ken, ‘s too much, i don’t think i can—”

“of course you can take more, angel,” kento huffs, firmly planting his hand beside your head for extra stability. the platinum of his watch glints in the light and his heavy breaths grow more ragged by the second, his chest heaving. sweaty strands of blond hair escape the gel’s hold, sticking to his slick forehead and making him look all the more ethereal above you. “i-i’m nowhere near finished with you.”

“oh god,” you whimper in realization, feeling that hot wave cresting in your tummy; it’s amplified by the rough rhythm of his cock and the attention he’s so generously lavishing your clit with. “g-god, ‘s coming . . ken, i think i’m gonna—”

a deep groan rushes out from him, all the way from the pits of his chest. hazel eyes squint as he watches your pussy push his cock out; it quivers momentarily before spraying cum all over his pelvis, and the sparkling droplets drip through his pubes, toward the shaft of his cock.

“did you just squirt, sweetheart?” kento asks curiously, heat rising to his cheeks and elsewhere.

“i think so,” you swallow nervously, too weak to sit up and look at the mess you’ve made all over him. “ken, i want you to cum inside me. stop holding it back.”

to be fair, this is probably the last time he’ll get the pleasure of fucking you on such an expensive desk. this despicable office he’s spent countless hours in is finally growing on him now that he’s got you in here like this — stripped naked and begging for his cum while making a mess of the shit all over his desk. and oh, he wishes he could see his boss’ face when he comes in demanding all of the finished work, only to be met with a sticky desk. the vision ignites an inferno in him and he guides his cock inside you, biting down on his lower lip when your greedy cunt swallows him.

“beg a little more for it, angel,” he chokes out, spreading your legs impossibly wider while drawing his hips back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you. “need to know just how you want it.”

you gasp sharply, back arching off the desk and causing your tits to press into his clothed, sweaty chest. “i want you to fuck me like you mean it. t-then, fill me up. please.”

you can’t even say another word before kento’s holding your hips down and plowing into you with a sudden ferocity. if he’s lucky, he can get you to squirt again and maybe this time he can get a taste—yes, this is the thought he wants to cum to.

he shudders, “i love it—ugh, fuck—when you tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“give it to me,” you cry out, eyes fluttering shut while your legs wrap tightly around his waist, drawing him closer. “h-haven’t i earned it, ken?”

kento comes undone at your words, teeth clenching with a loud grunt as he finally spills inside you. your squeezing walls milk him for everything he has, absorbing each throb of his cock into their sticky softness. his mouth hangs open breathlessly, and he weakly pushes his hips forward before carefully landing on top of you.

wood splinters and snaps beneath you, and you both tumble to the floor atop a heap of the desk’s remains. “kento, what just happened—”

“it’s fine, honey. let’s rest for a moment before we leave.”

“you aren’t gonna clean it up? what about when you have to come in tomorrow?”

kento nuzzles his nose into your cheek with a blissful sigh. “thank you for making my last day at this job special. i’ll be quitting and moving to the other firm closer to the house.”

FUSHIGURO TOJI.

“this is what ya wanted?” with a coy chuckle, toji flattens his tongue against your slit and licks a long, languid stripe upwards. he easily finds your clit, and swirls the sensitive bud around with the tip of his tongue.

“yeah, but not the teasing—” a breathy gasp pushes past your lips when he pushes two slick fingers inside you.

“heh heh. you’ll survive a little teasin’, dollface.”

he’s so flippant with his words, so nonchalant. but his fingers are anything but lazy or uncaring as he bullies them deeper into your cunt, curling them right against that sweet spongy spot inside you. with one leg over his shoulder and the other hanging off the edge of the backseat, you’re fully spread and at his mercy.

“come onnn, toji,” he rolls his eyes when he hears you whine, tonguing at the glossy slick that covers his fingers and the skin around your hole.

“you come on, princess. just wait a second, ‘kay?”

“but i’ve been waiting,” you huff, lower lip trembling in frustration as your fingers push through the dark tufts of his hair. you can’t help but breathe a little heavier, the building anticipation becoming suffocating in the small space of the car. “all night. since we left to go hang out with shiu.”

“don’t tell me that’s why you’ve been so handsy, doll. hmph, i had to pull over so ya wouldn’t make me crash the car.”

“i wasn’t even doing—”

“that much?” toji finishes your sentence for you, the corners of his lips quirking upwards when you look at him desperately. “weren’t ya trying to get in my pants while i was going sixty?”

before you can respond, toji interrupts your train of thought by spitting right onto your clit. the glossy glob trails down his fingers and becomes extra lube for him — he wraps his lips around your clit and starts to sporadically curl his fingers. heat sears its way across your face and your back arches off the backseat, eyes briefly scanning around to make sure the road’s still empty.

it’s dark out and difficult to tell, but what does it matter? there’s no need to focus on spotting other cars, you reason.

“ah, fuck!” the expletive leaves your lips in the form of a startled mewl, a delicious reaction to toji lightly nibbling at your clit with his teeth. the gesture is playful but it drives you wild and makes your head spin, thoughts turning into mush. “toji, that—that feels really good . . ”

impatient as ever, you push his head down, forcing his face into your pussy in a greedy attempt to get more.

“ah ah,” he snaps upwards, pulling free from your grip and moving on top of you easily. you’re nose to nose and he’s speaking directly over your lips, sharing your breath. “i get to eat this pussy my way. she’s all mine, don’t forget that.”

“f-fine,” you cede with a pout, which he kisses away, feeling proud of himself.

“be a good girl ‘n maybe you can ride my face. how’s that sound, doll?”

“it sounds good,” you squeeze your eyes shut when he finally returns to his old position between your thighs, two fingers stuffing your cunt while his tongue laps at your clit as though it’s the best ice cream ever. the temperature in the car seems to spike; your body’s growing hotter and hotter with each lick or curl of his fingers.

“greedy pussy wants some more, hm?”

“h-huh?” you ask dumbly, a little zoned out.

but toji doesn’t repeat himself. instead he shows you what he said by pushing a third finger into your already crowded hole, smirking in satisfaction when you suck him in despite your verbal protests of it being ‘too much’. toji’s big, every part of him, and you always take him even though you complain — what can he say?

“a-ah, so fuckin’ full,” you slur your words, rocking your hips into his fingers to make the stretch burn a little less. “tojiii, go slow.”

“again, girl,” he huffs, rolling his eyes dramatically, “don’t tell me what to do. ‘n you’ll be just fine, this pussy was made for me.”

there’s no point in arguing, so you just let your head lazily lean back against the door. you were supposed to look around for cars, especially police cars, and you’ve given up entirely, deciding to blame your inability to search on the foggy windows.

toji scissors his fingers in and out of you mercilessly, sucking your clit roughly and groaning to express his enjoyment. the wet squelches of your cunt make your cheeks burn hot; it’s just so filthy that you don’t even know how to react. on either side of his head, your thighs tremble, squeezing around him every now and then.

“mmm, you’re so fuckin’ sweet,” he smacks his lips loudly and devours your pussy in between each word, “shouldn’t have made you wait so goddamn long, dollface.”

“i told you,” is all you can utter, hips twisting wildly into his face, “jus’ like that, keep sucking my clit—fuck, yes. ‘m so close, gonna make me cum.”

“aw, i’m gonna make you cum?” he teases you, mocking your tone in a way that has shockwaves of excitement and anger shooting straight through your body. you can’t even find it in yourself to answer, and a sudden flash of red and blue has your eyes squeezing tightly shut.

“‘m cumming, ‘m c-cumming, toji!”

instead of using his tongue on your clit, toji decides to sit back and watch your cunt spasm. to prolong your orgasm and overstimulate you, he slaps your clit a few times, chuckling each time you jerk or nearly scream happily.

“hmph, ya ougtta taste yourself,” toji pulls his fingers out of you and shoves them into your mouth, feeling his cock swell in his pants as your tongue cleans his skin. it’s even better when you moan as you do so, thoroughly enjoying the taste of your cum. “how’s that, baby? if ya can sit up without any help, i’ll let you ride my face.”

a sharp knock on the window startles you, and the bright light of an officer’s flashlight shines in through the foggy glass. without wiping his face, toji reaches into the front seat and turns on the car, then rolls down the window. the light illuminates the glossy cum all over the lower half of his face, and yet he smiles widely.

“good evenin’, officer. what can i do for ya?”

KAMO CHOSO.

“keep it s-steady, baby,” despite his words, choso’s voice shakes, slightly muffled by his helmet. “gentle on the throttle—nghhh, fuck.”

one of his gloved hands is firmly holding onto your hip, gripping hard each time your cunt squeezes around his cock. the sky is now a dark curtain of nighttime, darkness speckled with stars above. in front of you, car lights flash occasionally out on the road. street signs are caught in the bright columns of the motorcycle’s headlights, greens and yellows glinting in the white glow.

you bounce your ass back on choso’s lap, nibbling at your lower lip and allowing a whimper to slip past your teeth. his cock is buried inside you, nestled deep in your hot, sticky walls and extremely sensitive. he lightly strokes his free fingers against your clit, but not too often that it’ll be a distraction—after all, you’re driving a motorcycle.

“there’s a light up ahead,” choso points out, heatwaves crashing over him despite the cool breeze.

“i see it, cho.”

the motorcycle slows as you apply the brake, and you smoothly stop at the light. instead of remaining bent forward, you sit back onto his lap, taking in the last few inches of his cock. choso startles beneath you with a gasping moan and rolls your clit between his fingers.

“cho,” you whimper breathlessly, leaning your head into his shoulder, “gimme a kiss.”

“okay,” he whispers, leaning in slowly. the helmets clash together, but he manages to peck his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. you whine when the light turns green, sitting forward to take off again. this time, your face burns as you steady your feet, and the position allows you to bounce back on his cock with newer efficiency.

“shit,” choso gasps, bucking his hips upwards to match your rhythm, “i—hah, you’re gonna make me cum, baby.”

it’s dangerous in so many ways, but you look over your shoulder at him and he sees the heat in your eyes. it’s almost like you’re daring him to bust a nut inside you while you drive his motorcycle—god, that’s exactly what you’re doing. normally, choso doesn’t enjoy playing truth or dare, but he’ll make an exception for his girl.

with one hand on your hip, he tugs you down onto his cock and jerks himself upwards to make it a little easier for you. tears prick at the corners of your eyes like they always do whenever you take his cock — he’s stretching you out and filling you up so perfectly that it’s impossible not to become overwhelmed.

“faster, baby—t-there’s nobody on the road, you can put s’more gas into it.”

so you do, watching the needle in the speedometer increase as the motorcycle gains speed. choso moans loudly, his face flushing dark red beneath his helmet while his eyes flutter shut for a moment. “g-gonna cum, baby, tell me i can, tell me i can—”

each word grows more urgent, and his voice begins to splinter and break as he begs you for permission. his fingers carelessly toy with your clit, thumb rubbing quick circles around the bud and enticing you to cum with him. you feel dizzy, seeing stars flash across your vision each time you bounce down on his cock, not to mention the additional stimulation on your clit. something hot burns in your stomach and seems to rush throughout every limb in a way that has your body and mind going numb momentarily.

“cum in me, choso,” you sob desperately, gripping the handlebars frantically, “cum with me, cum with—oh, fuck.”

your mouth falls open in shock as you have the most explosive orgasm you’ve ever had with him; your cunt flutters around his cock, drawing him deeper as if it’s the last time you’ll be together.

choso starts to babble thoughtlessly, praises and gasps falling from his lips like the words of a prayer. “yeah, ‘m cumming—ngh, i l-love you, god you’re jus’ so perfect.”

he finally spills inside you, spraying white hot cum so deep it’ll take hours to drip out. the motorcycle wavers, lurching forward toward the next set of lights. beneath the helmets, you’re both panting, coming down from your highs and trying to focus even though you’re feeling a euphoric numbness spread through your body. when his thumb nudges your clit, you jerk as though you’ve been electrocuted, whining from the sensitivity.

“are you okay?” he asks lowly, voice ragged while his hand massages at your side.

“y-yeah, i’m okay. i just—i need to do that again.”

choso laughs, causing you to do so as well. “maybe in a few more minutes. how ‘bout we change up the position so you’re on your back? if we do, i’ll be able to see that pretty face.”

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