#it's like i'm at a buffet table

[storytellering]

I am so grateful for your existence. Nobody does Morston like you

🥺🥺🥺 thank you so much anon, that's so sweet! I wouldn't necessarily say I'm the only one (or even the best out of those out there), but I really do appreciate the sentiment a lot, haha. 🫶💕

[x-i-l-verify]

#not saying consent and self control shouldnt be valued#because fuck yes they should be #but it completely destroys what their characters are supposed to be #and totally destroys the concept of a sin

Sins Being Neutered By People Who Don't Understand Sins

The embodiment of lust caring about consent and the embodiment of gluttony caring about self-control is the adult equivalent of this.

[acid-ixx]

oooh so did we divorce Bruce, or is this an infidelity type of situation?

a loving family, an unpalatable desire: first meeting (unofficial)

— masterlist ! ; related post !

a/n: a tad bit nsfw. if this sounds messy, spare me. i'm running on like 4 hours of sleep and the will of a thirsty man in front of an oasis. i told yall im going insane for this plotline. ofc a&a still has my heart but I also love to occasionally write for smth else in the sidelines. send in more asks yall hehe.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

definitely an infidelity type of situation, anon! you see, the affair was caused by all mere coincidence. you were to attend with bruce in one of lex luthor's extravagant show of a gala, hold his arm for a brief moment when you walk out of the limousine, only to be abandoned right in the middle of the enormous room.

of course, the right reaction was to be pissed, to badmouth the very man who decided to court and entertain others in front of you; but you chose to stay silent, biting back choked tears by stumbling over the buffet table, only to be met with stupid, overbearing paparazzi and journalists.

so when clark kent rushes in to save you from stuttering over the dozens of microphones and cameras shoved right in your face, granting them access to your pathetic sobs— it's only right that your first reaction was to lean against his body, dismissing the hushed, harsh gossips of journalists.

it was at a time where you're not aware of his identity of superman. well, bruce barely permits you to enter the batcave, only if you stubbornly pester alfred does he let you, only to kick you, his darling spouse right out the moment you step on the cold, hard floors of the lair.

so it's not... a bad thing, right? your husband had a child with another woman, raised him as his own, didn't even bother to notify you with his infidelity— so is it your fault if you slowly start to fall for a man who promises you the world? who actually has the ability to give you the world in the palm of your hands? whose kid lets you pamper him without any fight?

sure, he's coping with... the loss of his previous wife but you're such a perfect spouse, so undeniably attractive, captivating in the hearts of many. your distant eyes, the way you bite the inside of your cheeks, the way your body sways back and forth as if begging for someone, your husband, to provide you a pillar of support in the suffocating heat of paparazzi.

he could be that pillar, could be your support.

when he first came up to you, his intentions weren't to obtain gossip about the oh-so silent spouse of bruce wayne. he didn't even want to acknowledge your marital status, palms already taking your wrist just so he could lead you off to somewhere quieter.

"it's an interview," he whispers an excuse to your reddened ears. but the buzz of his breath, the warmth, the caged arm on your waist tells you it's more than that.

but you don't fight back, you'd rather be anywhere than be the spotlight of a media that eats you up, makes you doubt your marriage even more.

so you're grateful that someone came to your rescue.

this would be the first time you ever saw someone as a savior, and it's not superman, no. it's clark kent, your resident, widowed, journalist.

and for clark's case, you warm his bed better than anything else. you allow clark this sense of respite, a break from heroic activities. allow him to be human, just as he allows you to play your fantasies of being a house spouse; you're perfect for each other.

to hell with useless marriage papers that don't even give bruce a sense of obligation to act as your husband, right? what can it do, when you're absolutely smitten with the current life you're living?

the first stages of your infidelity with clark is confusing, but very much welcomed into your already hectic life.

firstly, you convince yourself, it was all mere 'emotional cheating'. you began texting clark, he does too. an occasional greeting in messages, a passing congratulation for something, then the next it was good morning messages, 'have you eaten breakfast yet?, 'how'd the appointment go?'.

you don't know when it started, when your feelings started, when you began an intimate to romantic relationship with the man— all you knew was that the moment he revealed his superhero identity was the moment he decided to bed you for the night, the moment you grant the man, now your partner, access to every part of your depraved body, made him make you beg for more, giving him all the time in the world to kiss your imperfections, to fondle sensitive parts long untouched, to leave lovebites deeper and darker than the ones you caught bruce with.

you can't help it, he's unknowingly handsome, especially when he invites you over to his ma and pa's farm the next day, pretending to not notice the way your eyes hungrily flit over his topless body, sweat and budding pecs encased in a muscled form. over the course of dinner, you kept biting your lips, warm cheeks at the implications that clark merely wanted to sit next to you just so he could handfeed you, something about him being prideful that you'd definitely enjoy this week's harvest... but his fingers circling your thighs just seems to get you brain all haywired.

yet you stay, and continue visiting for long hours either way, enjoying the man's attention.

you know it's wrong, he knows it's wrong. but the way his son, jon looks at you like you mean the world, the way he's slowly starting to heal the longer you stay over at his place makes clark want to... what's the word? ah, he wants to turn you into his loving trophy spouse. all you need to do is provide jon with all the support in the world.

as for bruce... well, him and his family can deal with your absence for the first few months. but when the lingering feeling of emptiness becomes too much, when bruce no longer feels the worried gazes, or when dick can't hear anymore laughter in one of the supposed 'barren' rooms, or when tim's security systems tracked a missing device, one now in a completely different city.

that's when they start to yearn for someone they purposely let go

[madamechrissy]

Losing focus every time you speak, girl

Pairings:- Satoru Gojo x F!Reader

Summary: Satoru Gojo is your plus one for the company Christmas Dinner, but he just DOES NOT like how your boss Sukuna looks at you. MDNI- smut- explicit semi public sex/play- Christmas PWP

A/N-I went to a company dinner and thought of this SMUT lmao, Gojo is possessive and a lil yandere- w.c. 1.2k

"I don't like how he's looking at you." Your boyfriend Satoru Gojo murmurs in your ear, as the Christmas music is playing in the fancy restaurant for your company's dinner. Satoru's wearing the sexiest pinstripe suit and black tie, and you're wearing a lacy little black dress as you stand along side the buffet table, sipping wine.

"You're so silly, looks at me how?" Your boss, Sukuna, smirks over at you, earning Satoru's grip even tighter against you. "Satoru..."

"One more smirk and I'm fucking you in front of your entire office." You gasp now, looking up at his bright blue eyes, as he tosses back the sweet moscato in one gulp.

"You're acting as if it's you ovulating. Swear." You tease, tugging at his tie now, he leans closer to you, barring you against the buffet table, you're getting so flushed, looking around, worried everyone can see. "Toru, baby..."

"Don't Toru baby me. I can smell how turned on you are, fuck." He practically inhales your neck, earning a smack on the shoulder.

"You can not, psycho. Wait till we get home-"

"Hello, my favorite employee." Mr. Sukuna comes up, grinning and raising his brows, ruby eyes glinting as you slip out from under your psycho boyfriend's hold.

"Mr. Sukuna, thank you so much for one year." You say with a smile, holding your hand out, but he pulls you in.

"No need to be so formal, now." He hugs you right in front of Satoru, his hands pressing against your back, and you don't see it, but he's smirking right at Satoru, as Satoru is scowling back. "And this is your boyfriend, huh?"

"Y-yes!" You clear your throat, stepping back to stare at your furious, handsome boyfriend, who's about to kill your boss now. You tug on his stiff arm. "Satoru Gojo, say hi."

"Hi." He speaks through his teeth, Sukuna chuckles.

"A man of few words. Well, do you care for a dance-"

"She's not feeling so great, think she needs some air."

"What now-ah!" Satoru's dragging you out of the banquet room, where some coworkers are dancing to jazzy music. "Just where are we going-"

Satoru has you in this stupidly fancy bathroom now, pressing you against the door, turning you and lifting up your skirt. You cry out softly as he starts kissing your neck, your shoulders, his teeth sinking into delicate skin. "You are mine, say it."

"Of course I'm yours... Satoru are you jealous!?" He scoffs, now your dress is up over your hips, the cool air of the bathroom breezing against overheated skin, you're wearing tights but he rips them, he fucking rips them.

"Not jealous, no, just need to fill my pretty girl up with me." He sinks two long fingers in your eager cunt, your head falls back against him, gasping now. "Fill you up so you're dripping my cum when he comes near you."

"Y-you- f-fuck!" You're whining now when Satoru turns you, pressing your back against the door now, your pretty black dress is shoved and scrunched as he kisses you, hot, messy and desperate. It's so insane you can't even get a breath, when your hands fumble with his belt of his slacks, watching his length spring out, already drooling with precum.

His eyes are so dilated they're damn near black, just a ring of blue, his fingers back to pumping and curling in your cunt, breath against your lips, sweet like wine. "Say you're mine baby."

"M'yours Toru- ah!" He picks you up like you're nothing now, you cling to his jacket, fingertips pressing against his shoulders, crying out weakly when his pink tip presses on your swollen little clit. "Here!? Are you crazy?!"

"Crazy for you, gonna knock you the fuck up here and now." You gasp when he sinks his full length inside your soppy pussy, you're drooling down his lenth as he slams your head against the heavy wooden door, stretching and filling you so good you can't fucking think.

"Mine, mine, mine." He mutters, his eyes fucking insane, lips parted, sinking deeper and deeper into you, until you're shattering, so close when his curved tip drags on your spot. "Gonna cum for me aren't you baby?"

You just nod, letting him fuck into you harder, his lips slam on yours, his big hands pressing into your hips, his lips do nothing to muffle the cries however. He's abusing your cervix, whispering nonsense, psychotic, needy, insane nonsense, that just makes you that much closer.

"Gonna cum f'me, huh baby?" You whine, and he chuckles, breath against your ear as he fucks you deeper and harder. "That's it, lemme feel you, you can do it."

You cover your mouth with a hand, screaming out, head whacking the door so hard it hurts, but the orgasm rocking your body eliminates it all. You're pulsing aroung Satoru's veiny cock, and he groans now, biting your neck again, a hand slipping up to your breast, squishing it in his huge grip as he starts pumping hot cum in you.

"Fill you s'fuckin... full you..." He whimpers in your ear as his hot sticky white cum coats your walls, you're trembling, sweaty and fucking destroyed as it brings you again, now he keeps pumping, the squishing lewd and insane in the big fancy bathroom. "Oh my god... baby..."

"You're fucking crazy, I swear I c-can't bring you anywhere." You huff now, as he eases you down, cupping your face gently like he didn't just rip your tights and fuck you on a bathroom door.

"I'm sorry baby I lost it." He pouts now all cute, blinking snowy lashes at you. "You're too sexy I'm sorry."

You sigh now, adjusting your dress, feeling his cum drip down your thighs as you do. "You have nothing to worry about, I love you, crazy ass."

"Promise?" He pouts more, puppy dog eyes melting you.

"I promise. I only want you." He moans, kissing you softly, again and again as he calms, stroking your back gently. "Can you behave for the rest of the party?"

Satoru nods, but he's eyeing the bruise he just gave your neck, the little bit of wrinkle to your dress, your kissed off red lips, smirking now. You head back to the dinner, and when Sukuna talks to you again, Satoru knows that his cum is dripping from your bare cunt, with nothing to stop it from sticking to your thighs, giving him much more comfort.

You look at him with a curious little smile, your perfect hair is just a little messy, he brushes it back when he sits down for dinner with you, and another co worker, Nanami is eyeing you, smiling. Satoru decides to push his cum back in your pussy right under the thick white table cloth, enjoying how you struggle to maintain normal small talk, while you're drooling down his fingertips.

"Satoru I will never take you anywhere again." You hiss in his ear as you all walk out that night, waiting on the Valet to get Satoru's car, you're wearing his suit jacket and trembling in the chilled night, cunt throbbing.

"Merry Christmas?" He teases, a giant grin, but you're scowling, he will have to fix that tonight.

Lmao I would be concocting Satoru smut at my company dinner 😭

[coralinnii]

‧₊˚✧ Welcome to the Family‧₊˚✧ 

↳ Getting Culture Shock from Your Friendly Family

feat: Sebek ❋ Silver ❋ Malleus genre: fluff, note: no pronouns were used for reader, established relationships, TWST characters’ age are canon-accurate (so no underage drinking), 

So... I sort of misinterpreted a request and there's just too much to change so I'm gonna have to redraft an entire writing post. But, I felt like it'd be a waste to delete this so I hope you enjoy this random plot.

The culture shock hit the fae the moment your boisterous family opened the doors with bright smiles and excited cheers. 

“You must be Sebek! Come in, come in!” 

Word must have spread because not only your parents, but Sebek ended up being introduced to your aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, grand-aunts and uncles who were visiting your parents that day. Apparently, your extended family tree was ‘coincidentally’ in the area and wanted to drop by to see the man you brought home. 

A simple lunch plan became an all-out buffet with your family pulling out the extra chairs and plates. Sebek insisted on helping with the heavy lifting which your parents adamantly refused. 

“A guest doesn’t do anything!” “That’s right, just relax and have a drink!” 

“Dad, he’s 16.” 

Sebek was in slight awe of the power your human family possessed, not really physical power but rather their charismatic aura that he couldn’t fight against. Sebek came from a good home as well, but this feeling of intimacy and acceptance from a group of humans that owes him no such hospitality is new to him.

It was as if he was reduced to a pampered child and any responsibility or obligation, he had was taken off his shoulders. 

Once the table was set, Sebek’s vision was overcome by a whirlwind of hands, utensils, and food. Without lifting a finger, the green-haired guest had a mountain of food piled up on his large plate. It was a cuisine unlike the Briar Valley’s food he was familiar with, but the aroma was too tempting to ignore. 

The house was full of loud chatter and laughter that brought a sense of homely warmth to Sebek.

Sebek came from a good home as well, but this feeling of intimacy and acceptance from a group of humans that owes him no such hospitality is new to him.

This feeling of being swept away by your family was… strange but not unpleasant.

"So, how are you keeping up with my family?” You cheekily questioned the tall young man, finally alone as the two of you hid in the sanctuary that was your bedroom. 

After lunch, the little ones in the family were taking advantage of your boyfriend’s trained body as they climbed and swung on him like a jungle gym. Of course, you trusted Sebek as he kept his stance and never once did he drop or falter while the children played to their heart’s content. 

“Hmph, as if a bunch of humans could ever be a challenge for a knight such as myself.” Sebek huffed with all his bravado, but you see the gel in his hair slightly wearing off from sweat. 

You smiled regardless. “That’s good, then. I’m honestly surprised that you're so good with kids.” 

The green-haired man smirked with confidence. “Of course, I would not be so easily taken down by such a puny number of opponents.” 

“Please don’t call my cousins your opponents.” 

Sebek straightened his back as he puffed up his chest. “I am personally impressed that your family are not deterred by me, since not many can handle someone of proud fae blood such as myself!” 

You hummed humorously at him. You knew behind those arrogant words, you knew that he was actually nervous about your family being put off by him, be it for his heritage or his abrasive personality. You even swore that his hair seemed a little more gelled up than usual, hoping to look good in front of your family. 

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around Sebek’s broad shoulders, with Sebek instinctively stiffening from your touch. “My family loves you because they can see what I see. Who do you think raised me?” 

Sebek relaxed and turned his head to meet your eyes. His softened eyes reflected in yours as his hidden worries dissipated from your words. 

Both of you felt a mutual pull towards each other, lips leaning ever close to touch- 

Knock Knock 

Sebek well nearly flung you to the other side of your room in panic, his face burning with embarrassment while your face expressed more shock and a little indignation. 

“Mom and auntie said there’s snacks, so come down.” A tiny carefree voice came through the door before footsteps walking away followed after. 

Maybe Sebek was right. Your cousins were opponents, indeed. 

The moment you and Silver step foot into your family home, you weren’t sure who’s the guest and who’s the actual family member anymore. 

Silver was pulled to the center of the sofa with your family crowding him, cooing and praising the handsome man. 

“Such soft hair, you take good care of yourself!” 

“Not only that, you have a strong body too. You must eat well, that’s good.” 

He’s not your boyfriend, he’s our future son-in-law

Silver is fairly used to this kind of energy thanks to a certain easygoing fae but he does internally heave a sigh of relief that your family seem welcoming of him. Being a human from a primarily fae kingdom, he wasn’t sure how he would come across to other humans.

If you ever worry about the potential gawkers Silver would attract with his good looks and personality, imagine that…but with your very own blood-bonded family. 

You and your family had to suppress your bubbling laughter as you watched your little siblings' eyes sparkle at the prince-like young man you brought home. They quickly latched onto the confused knight-in-training, chubby hands either gripping the leg of his pants or raised up high asking for a hug.

“Should I up my game so I won’t lose my only boyfriend?” 

You finally couldn’t stop yourself from laughing when said boyfriend asserted with such a convicted expression that he would never stray from you. 

Finally, you and Silver had a moment to yourself…or at least one as close as you can get while your little siblings run amok at the park nearby. While the adults were cooking up a storm back home, the children wanted to play outside which led you and your boyfriend on babysitting duty. 

“So…” you started the conversation while the two of you leisurely sat under the shade of a hefty tree. “How are you feeling? I know my family can get a little…much.” 

“They remind me of Father in many ways.” Even with some drowsiness in his voice, Silver replied without hesitation. “It was almost like being in a room with multiple versions of him.” 

“Is that a good thing?” 

The fair man looked over to the park where your siblings were yelling and running without a care in a world. He knew they could feel so carefree because they have you watching over them and have a whole room full of people waiting for them with a warm, hearty meal. 

Never alone, never unloved. A big, joyful family.

And these loving people readily welcomed him, a child with mysterious origins and an unfamiliar upbringing. Silver didn't want to come off as unapproachable or disrespectful due to his quiet demeanor, but your family was unaffected in the least and accepted him with open arms.

Silver smiled at you like a man blessed by the heavens. “It’s wonderful. I never thought my life could feel even brighter and warmer than it already is.” 

You smiled back, warmth filling your heart after hearing the man you love equally cherishing the people precious to you.

Perhaps Silver’s sleepiness has rubbed off on you as you felt compelled to rest your head on his side, with Silver immediately laying his head atop of yours.

“Next time, let’s invite Lilia too.” A quick look of panic was shared between you two. “He’s not allowed in the kitchen, though.” 

“Agreed.” 

Malleus, a being of pure fae blood, was the most clueless of what to expect at a human gathering which led to a multitude of questions regarding human customs. It was rather adorable to watch this imposing figure pace back and forth over the most minor of concerns. 

“What is the customary gift to offer your family as a greeting?” 

“I don’t know, wanna try gold bars? Haha…wait Malleus don’t actually-!” 

After calming your boyfriend's nerves, the two of you finally reached your home where your family were excitedly waiting for you and the man you brought.

Of course your family is impressed by the magnificent figure that was Malleus and the inhuman features that the fae worried over were instead adored and admired. 

“His horns look strong but shiny, so sleek.” 

“Such a tall, handsome man! A little skinny, but very healthy and that’s what matters.” 

Mayhap, this lack of fear of yours is an inherited trait.  

Soon, compliments turned to gifts as your family bombarded Malleus (and by extension you, I guess) with things around the house that they think kids your age would like. Free prizes they’ve won, treats the family bought too many of, presents given by other relatives or friends…everything was suddenly in his hands and lap. 

It was almost entertaining watching your boyfriend, who could literally acquire any materialistic goods he could want for, get overwhelmed by all the gifts and trinkets that he could barely carry in his arms.

“Just be grateful, Malleus. At least they hadn’t given shopping bags filled with those dried fruit snacks you mentioned were good yet.”

A sense of calm and peace finally came over your household. Well, your family’s version of calm at least, which is everyone sitting around the living room, chatting while watching a melodrama with that attractive actor your grandmother likes. 

Imagine the confusion and slight concern on Malleus’s face as your mother tried to explain the plot of the whole series. 

“Is he not aware of how his mother is treating his paramour? How can he let this be?” 

“Malleus sweetie, he’s been in the hospital this whole time because of that car accident with his half-brother. That’s why the mother is trying to get rid of the girl before he wakes!” 

You chuckled at the scene of your sweet boyfriend giving his full attention to your mother’s passionate venting, but a pang of anxiety pricked you. 

Your family can be quite boisterous and forward, even by typical human family standards. You never wanted to pry into Malleus’s personal life but you can’t imagine any noble fae behaving like your family do. You are by no means embarrassed by your family, but you’d hate the idea that Malleus was feeling uncomfortable but far too courteous to speak out.

Gently, you called Malleus’s attention with a subtle touch atop his hand. When he turned to you, you motioned him to lean down to whisper into his ear. “If we get too loud, you can excuse yourself. I can cover for you.” 

Malleus felt aghast by your words. Was he giving off any signs of dissatisfaction? That was not his intention at all. 

Yes, your family is unlike most families the young fae heir have encountered. In fact, they are unlike most people he has encountered in general. No one would be brave enough to crowd him so freely, to pull one of the strongest mages of their time around to their whim. 

In contrast to the large, silent halls of his throne room in his castle, Malleus found himself nearly squished into a couch with someone at every direction while chatter filled this comparatively small home. 

How delightful this has been for him to be a part of this lovely family.

Hoping to convey his sincerest thoughts, Malleus encompasses your hand in his, whispering softly to you. 

“I’m enjoying myself, truly.” 

Your mother suddenly perked up, looking away from her phone she was typing away on. “Oh, honey! My friend group is planning on a road trip to this cute retreat. Would you and Malleus want to join us?” 

“Are you…inviting me?” 

If Malleus’s tail was visible right now, do you think you’d see it wagging excitedly?

[xenosagaepisodeone]

"vacations are good for people watching" is as obvious an observation as they come, but I've found that vacations are good in particular for observing the distinction between families who travel for mutual enrichment and families who simply do not. There are families who travel simply because hiring a babysitter would make an affordable vacation unaffordable. There are families who travel out of habit, aware on some level of the dwindling returns each trip brings but unwilling to confront what that means. There are families who travel because they believe that furnishing their lives with what amounts to a checklist of experiences will give the impression of roundedness and authenticity to their otherwise vacuous middle class living. There are families who travel because theyre running out of time and believe that "going away" will give them something they have otherwise been unable to fill their own lives with. There are families who travel to "get away" but ultimately cannot escape what they are. It's the Tolstoy quote about unhappy families but with the cumbersome social politics of 19th century Russia laid over an all inclusive resort. There is an Anna Karenina beneath every brunch buffet table, and its protective amber shell is being chipped away by "I'm hot and tired and bored" and "I don't like the food here"

[jinwoosbabyboo]

There Wasn't Enough Left

LADS Men reacting to you giving them more food and only taking a small portion for yourself. A/N: So clearly every conversation is starting with MC sitting the plates down at the table. [Requested by: Anon]

Zayne

MC: Here you go my love

Zayne: Thank you Darling......?

MC: Oh I forgot the drinks hold on

Zayne sits motionless with his eyes bouncing back and forth between his plate and yours

Zayne: ???

MC: There you go

Zayne: Is your heart not doing well?

MC: It feels fine ... why?

Zayne: I didn't put you on a diet ... did you get a second opinion?

MC: Im not on a diet

Zayne: Why do I have so much food and you don't?

MC: There wasn't enough left its okay though

Zayne: No I don't like this

He grabs your plate before you can stop him and starts scraping food off his plate onto yours until the plates looked even

Zayne: Eat well darling I need you healthy *Sets the plate back in front of MC*

MC: You need me healthy or do you just need me?

Zayne: *Smiles* Both

Rafayel

MC: What would you like to drink?

Rafayel: Wait a damn minute

MC: Something wrong?

Rafayel: Are you blind? Why do I have a buffet in front of me and you have the plate of a three year old?

MC: There wasn't enough left but don't worry its fine ... let me go grab our drinks

Rafayel switches your plates quickly before you come back

MC: Raf! give me my plate this is yours!

You start trying to grab the plate, but he keeps blocking and shoving your hands away.

Rafayel: *Licks the food on his plate* Mine! I already licked it!

MC: Gross. Why are you like this?

Rafayel: Like what?

MC: Did my "plate for a three year old" turn you into a three year old?

Rafayel: If I say yes will you stop fighting me

MC: You're so sweet ... and unhinged

Xavier

Xavier: I thought you said you were starving?

MC: I was just being dramatic

Xavier: Did you eat before coming home?

MC: Just enjoy your food Xav

Xavier: ..... I'm not hungry

MC: What? You took a twelve hour nap there's no way you're not hungry

Xavier: Im fine …. here you take this

Xavier reaches over setting his plate next to yours

Xavier: Seeing you eat well is more than enough for me

MC: Xav you need to eat

Xavier: I insist you take both

MC: If I put some of your food on my plate will you eat with me?

Xavier: As long as I’m the one putting the food on your plate

Sylus

Sylus: Is this one of your little jokes?

MC: What are you talking about?

Sylus: Since when do you take such little food for yourself?

MC: You're a big guy you need to eat more than me

Sylus: You've laid me out in the ring kitten what other excuse would you like to try

MC: There wasn't much so I gave you more … where's my thank you

Sylus: You'll get a proper thank you when I see an adequate amount of food in front of you

MC: This is a enough

Sylus uses his evol to tie your hands and switch your plates.

MC: Let me go!

Sylus: Thank you

MC: What?

Sylus: There's your thank you

MC: Sylus this is your plate

Sylus: Is it? I've already taken a bite from this plate I'd say this one is mine now

[lovecla]

MAKE IT TO THE MORNING ; JACK HUGHES

PAIR jack hughes x fem!reader

SUMMARY being jack hughes’ girlfriend comes with a lot of hardships— but in the mornings, you realize it is all worth it.

WARNINGS unedited, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), rough sex, p slapping, cockwarming, dirty talk, jack is lowkey a little shit, reader loves him tho, inspired by the song “make it to the morning” by partynextdoor. freaky af!!!

WORD COUNT 2,3k

FROM ME TO YOU a little late (literally, it’s like 3am for me), but this is my thank you gift for you guys because today i woke up with 700 of you!! i’m still too in shock to say anything besides thank you so much. i was celebrating 600 followers like a month ago and now this. i’ll keep working hard to give you guys good content <3 ily and pls enjoy

𖧷

don't scream or shout, i'm workin' my way down

girl, you gettin' loud, now put it in yo' mouth

THE SOUND of your heels clicking against the marble floor was enough to piss anyone off. It was annoying, repetitive and even you were starting to get tired of the little tec tec sound, but you couldn’t stop.

Dating Jack Rowden Hughes was not for the weak. And you knew that, more than anyone else. Being his girlfriend of three years— the longest time he has ever been in a relationship, mind you—, you knew that the prize was good, but the job of keeping it was tiring.

You stared at him across the room, talking to some random fans who definitely didn’t know what being a fan was, since they were all over him, with their hands on his arms and shoulders.

He eyed you from time to time, blue eyes making it hard for you to stay one hundred percent mad at him— truthfully, you knew that all it would take for you to forgive him for his playboy behaviour would be a single kiss and an aggressive make out session.

“It isn’t so fun watching from here, huh?” Quinn’s new fling, or whatever the girl standing beside you was, said, approaching you quietly. “Trust me, I know how it feels.”

You hummed, not engaging with her. You knew Jack wouldn’t actually do anything, but still, it didn’t feel nice to get painted as the dumb girlfriend who has to watch her famous boyfriend laugh and take pictures with hundreds of girls while she stands in the back.

“I’m lucky my Quinn isn’t as nearly as talkative as he is,” she continues, despite your silence. “But you know, Jack is everyone’s favorite.”

You turned your head to the side, watching the girl next to you eye Jack the same way she eyed Quinn, hungry and suggestive, and that was enough for you.

“Sorry,” you interrupted, putting your wine glass down— it had been empty for at least ten minutes— and smiling apologetically. “I have a terrible headache, so I think it’s time for me to head out.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that,” she pouts, and you can feel your eyes twitch. “It is pretty late too, so you must be tired.”

“Mhm.” You nod, looking at your phone. 3:46a.m.

“Do you want me to call Jacky?” She asks, expectantly, and the way she says his name makes you want to smash her face against the crumbles of cake sitting on the buffet table.

“No, no, it’s fine, don’t worry,” you play dumb. “It was nice seeing you…”

You forgot her name. It was probably something like Olivia or Madeline, but still. You didn’t remember.

“It was nice seeing you, too!” She says, apparently clueless to your lack of memory— and interest. “I’ll text you later so we can talk more.”

“Sure thing, yeah.” You walk towards Jack with long, careful steps. “Hey, babe.”

His eyes are on you immediately, his hair moving around with his abrupt move. He smiles, stepping out of the little circle the girls had made around him to wrap his arms around you.

“If it isn’t my favorite girl,” he says. “Hi, baby.”

You can feel the girls’ eyes on you, burning your skin like the fictional fairies’ whenever they touch iron. It is a feeling you are used to already, but you feel yourself shivering either way.

“Can we go?” You ask, bluntly ignoring the other women there. “It’s late.”

“Yeah, we can,” he nods, turning his head back to his little girl group before smiling at them. “See ya, ladies.”

See ya, ladies?

“Bye, Jack.”

“You’re the best!”

“See ya next time!”

You can’t hide your pout on your way home— you don’t even try to. You have your arms crossed in front of your chest as you sit in the front seat of Jack’s absurdly expensive car, listening to the quiet hum of his air conditioner and the annoying noise whenever he turns on the turn signal.

“You’re not mad… are you?”

His voice is tentative, almost as if he’s scared of asking the question.

“Are you kidding me? You spent half of that ridiculous party talking to women. Tell me I can’t be mad about that.” You hiss back, not looking at him. You know there are high chances of you folding bad if you do.

“Baby, I already told you, it’s all business,” he says, once again, because he has, indeed, told you that several times before. “I can’t have them saying I’m a rude guy, can I?”

“Sometimes I can’t believe the shit you say,” you scoff. “You literally told a reporter to fuck himself last week, on live. Talk about being a nice guy now, Jack.”

“Come on, you’re not being fair!” He exclaims, and you can hear the pout on his voice. “He talked shit about you. He was lucky I didn’t punch him in the face.”

You rolled your eyes, biting your lips to hide your smile.

Little does Jack know you jumped out of the couch when you saw the transmission and giggled while you sent texts to your best friend about how you would have to be the mother of his children.

You stayed silent, looking at the dark streets, briefly forgetting about your anger to notice how beautiful your city is. There weren't many people in the streets at that hour— it was summer, yes, but it was almost four a.m and it was still Monday, and a lot of people were still working.

When you got to your and Jack’s apartment— a two bedroom penthouse with plenty of space and a kitchen you still fell in love with every time you looked at it— you didn’t waste time before heading to the guest bathroom shower, a clear sign that you didn’t want Jack to join you, which you knew pissed him off.

You were quick even though you weren’t sleepy, washing the soap off your body under the lukewarm water; happy because it was your favorite scent.

You got out of the stall, opening the bathroom door after you wrapped the towel around your body, deciding to change inside your bedroom.

Or at least that’s what you thought you would do.

“Y/n.” Jack calls you, sitting on top of the bed.

“Fuck, Jack,” you grunt. “You scared me.”

“I can’t have you mad at me, baby,” he says, getting up and walking towards you, only stopping when your covered chest is touching his. “You know those women mean nothing.”

“Jack,” you sigh. “We’ve been here before. You can’t just say that every time you flirt with other women.”

“I wasn’t—” he starts, but interrupts himself mid sentence. “You’re making shit up.”

“Am I?” You ask, holding the towel tighter. “You damn well I’m not.”

“Listen,” he says. “I’m not proud with the way I acted but I already told you—”

“It’s all business. I know, you know, we all know.” You roll your eyes, stepping back and moving forward so you can leave the room. His hand finds your waist almost immediately, locking you in place. “Jack—”

“You’re so full of complaints, baby,” he whispers. “Every time we go out you complain about something.”

“I wouldn’t complain if you didn’t give me reasons to.”

He clicks his tongue, running his fingers over your naked arms. You shiver slightly, hoping he doesn’t see it. “You want more?”

“More what?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“More reasons to complain,” he continues, chuckling as he lowers his head and hides it in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “Real reasons to complain.”

“Wha—”

“Because I’ll give them to you, if you want to,” he licks your skin, and you can feel yourself start to malfunction. He’s a little shit, you think, as you slowly start to give in. He’s a little shit and I’m in love with him. “Or I can keep your mouth full so you can’t complain anymore.”

He stands up straight again, staring at you while his fingers move to where you were holding your towel.

“What’s your pick, baby?” He whispers, removing your grip from the soft fabric around your body, letting it fall on the floor, like a puddle of water on your feet.

You’re fully naked, and he can’t even pretend he’s not looking— he is. He always is.

Jack kisses you with hungry, tender lips. He holds your neck while he licks your lips with his tongue, hot and messy. He tastes like beer and you hate it, but you cannot get enough.

You wrap your own arms around his neck, holding him so close to you you could feel his heartbeat. Kissing him never got old, and if you were to write down your top ten favorite things about Jack Hughes, his kiss would definitely be number one.

You breathe in his scent, your favorite ever since you met him, and you can feel your legs start to give in, just like the rest of your body. It’s late at night, almost morning, your body can’t keep up with your mind and you want to tell Jack to fuck off.

Yet.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers against your lips, as he guides you to the bed, laying you down with your hips on the edge of it. “Let me give you something to make noise about.”

That’s the only warning you get before he gets his knees on the floor and separates your legs, leaving you open and exposed. You feel his fingers spreading your lips open, and when his tongue finds its way to your clit, all of your previous complaints are gone.

You close your legs around his neck, holding him in place, while he puts on a show for you, his fingers tracing the wetness pouring out of you.

You let out a soft moan, holding his hair with your hands, not bothering to be gentle. His tongue found your clit again, rubbing it in slow, circular motions.

“Jack.”

You trash under him as he flicked your sensitive nub with his mouth, the wet noises making you want to disappear. Jack always seemed pleased to go down on you, but you still aren’t used to this fact about him.

“So sweet, baby,” he murmurs, the vibrations of his words sending shivers down your spine, as he dives in again.

He has you curling your toes and arching your back, moaning his name loud and proud, but still, he doesn’t stop. He slides his arms under your thighs, holding you in place by gripping your waist, hard.

He has you coming in under five minutes— it’s a shame it’s over so soon, but what can you do, really. He looks up at you between your thighs, and the sight alone has you moaning, desperate for something else.

You pull his hair, gently, signaling to him that you wanted him up, closer to you, and so he does. He kisses you again, and you get to taste yourself on his lips, moaning loudly inside his mouth when you feel his dick trapped between his body and yours.

“Jack,” you whisper again, placing both of your hands on his cheeks. “I need you.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” He says, chuckling as he gets off you and removes the rest of his clothes.

He slides inside you with no hesitation or whatsoever, knowing too well that your inside’s have his print all over it. You both moan loudly, louder than you should be moaning at four something in the morning, but you can deal with the complaint letter later.

He holds your legs together, pressing them against your chest, almost folding you in half. He is being rough, something you absolutely want to kill him for, but you let yourself enjoy the roughness for a moment; you can scold him later.

You can feel him deeper now, as your body gets dragged up and down against the mattress, making you want to scream.

“You’re wet,” he says through his teeth and you can tell he’s also giving in. “Y/n, fuck.”

You’re clenching around his length as he strokes your G spot, dragging his dick against your walls, once again making sure you can take everything he gives you.

“Harder.” You hear someone ask, probably yourself, and you also hear his low chuckle. “Not enough.”

“Still complaining?” He asks, but doesn’t give you time to answer. Instead, he removes his right hand from your waist and does the one thing he knows it will have you drooling and begging under him.

He slaps your pussy. The wet, loud sound that fills the room makes you squirm, unconsciously trying to remove yourself from his hold. But he’s stronger, always has been.

“Take it, baby.”

He then slaps you again, and again, and so many times you stop counting. The feeling of his cock throbbing inside you, and his rough slaps against your clit is enough to make you come, leaving you almost lifeless under him.

“Good girl, Y/n,” he says, kissing your lips, briefly. “I’m gonna come, fuck.”

“Inside, please,” you hear yourself mumbling, and you’re not even sure if Jack hears it.

“What was that, baby?” He asks, his thrusts getting sloppy.

“Inside?”

“Fuck,” he curses. “I’m—”

He cums inside you, the familiar feeling making you sigh with bliss. You are both panting, the room smells of sweat, alcohol and sex, and you swear you can see the sun start to rise through the bedroom’s floor to ceiling windows.

You��re just about to tell Jack you want to go to sleep when you feel him start to pull out, which has you protesting, immediately.

“No, I— sleep inside, please?”

His blue eyes are staring down at you, and now, there’s a hint of a smile plastered on his face. He nods once, manhandling you around until you’re under the sheets, with your back glued to his chest, and his length still nestled inside you.

“Well, if you’re still mad at me,” he whispers. “At least we made it to the morning, huh?”

“Shut up,” you whisper back, barely hiding your smile. “If you keep talking, there won’t be any other morning.”

He laughs, kissing the top of your head. “Very well, then.”

𖧷

NHL MASTERLIST. JACK HUGHES MASTERLIST

[luludeluluramblings]

A meme for feral basis if I may:

*babies first kidnapping*

Criminals: "We have you're daughter now give us 12 million or she dies."

Bruce: *sweats* "WhIcH dAuGhTeR!?

Criminal 1: *describes feral mc whose actively biting through her restraints*

Bruce: Good luck! *laughs and hangs up*

Criminal 1: What the?! dang kid your dad must hate-

*notices they're gone*

Criminal 2: Where I'd she go?!

*They hear feral laughter from everywhere*

Criminal 3: She's in the walls. SHES IN THE WALLS!!

Mc: *Appears behind them like the undertaker* Boo!

Criminals: *horrified screams*

Actually this is baby's third kidnapping.

The first kidnapping Feral!Reader was on their best behavior. They had just moved to Gotham and the whole family had been pounding into their head that they needed to behave and show some decorum.

So Feral!Reader managed to keep all intrusive thoughts under control that one incident.

Bruce (and the rest of the family) freaked the fuck out. Their little abomination was kidnapped for ransom. They're monstrosity had some thugs holding a gun to their head.

Of course, Feral!Reader doesn't flinch or anything. They stay very mindful and demure.

After the whole incident, Feral!Reader does get grazed with a stray bullet. But, they were so excited that they did such a good job even if Bruce was in cardiac arrest from the possible close call.

Bruce makes the decision then and there that Feral!Reader is allowed to go ape shit ONLY when kidnapped.

Which leads us to the second kidnapping. Well, attempted. The idiots tried to kidnap Feral!Reader from a gala. High society has given Bruce so much space since.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

*Goons break into Gala to hold everyone hostage and steal shit*

*Villain of the week monologging *

*Bat Fam hidden in various locations around the Gala with com-links*

Bruce *hidding in a closet* : Who's on patrol tonight?

Barbara *in the BatCave* : Jason, but he's twenty minutes away.

Damian *Under one of the tables* : We can take them.

Stephanie *By the dessert table* : Not if we want people to ask questions.

Duke *back at the manor* : I can maybe swing it in fifteen if I use the Bat mobile.

Damian: Now who wants to drive it?

Tim *stuck with a group of investors getting their luxury watches stolen* : Shut up you two.

Jason *Driving on his motorcycle* : I'm on my way. Cass can be my backup.

Bruce: Good, we can manage until-

Dick *at a random table* : Feral!Reader vanished on me!

Stephanie: How did you lose them?!

Bruce: Does anyone have visual on them?

Damien: No, but I have a bad feeling.

Barbara: I'm pulling up security footage of the venue.

Jason: I'm booking it.

Duke: I'm heading to the Cave to suit up.

Tim: Wait, I think I saw them. Their by the buffet table.

*Feral!Reader ginning manically while they steal the fuel pots from the food warmers.*

Tim: Oh, that's not good.

Bruce: What's not good?

Tim: Babs, get the fire department on speed dial.

*Feral!Reader manged make a pipe bomb with a few things they found. Then used some random fabric they ripped from their clothing hog tie the villain and their goons.*

Villain: You little bitch!

Feral!Reader: Don't call bitch or you ain't gonna like what I do to you!

Villian: Do your worst, bitch!

Feral!Reader: Bet.

*Feral!Reader proceeds to procure a bottle of maple syrup and a fire ant farm before shoving both objects down the villains pants.*

Feral!Reader: My cousin once said that this was a good hack to make your dick bigger.

*Villain screaming.*

*Goons screaming cause the ants are getting on them too.*

*Gotham elite looking in horror.*

Bruce: ...

Bruce: Well, I'm sure this was just a one time incident.

*It was not.*

Tim: Someone needs to check on that cousin…

[brights-place]

[TWST] TWST x Birthday! Reader Part 1. (here) Part 2. Warnings: Fluff, cursing,Angst end A/N: IT'S MY BIRTHDAY YIPPEEEEE I'm spending the day by sobbing on the inside and probably playing video games Update: I’m actually scuba diving with fishes I’m happy and I got to see a moray eel… eat… I was scared

ANYWAYS HAPPY BIRTHDAYS TO THOSE WHO ARE BORN ON THE 4/4 YALL ARE LEGENDS

Summary: It's MC is birthday and they get surprised by some students who wish them a happy birthday

A smile tugged at your lips as you glanced down at Grim, watching the grey feline dart between your legs, his fluffy tail swishing impatiently.

“Hurry up already!” he whined, nudging your calf with his head as if that would make you move faster. Soft laughter escaped your lips as you followed his frantic pace. “Okay, okay, I’m coming,” you chuckled, matching his enthusiasm.

Grim practically herded you past the old, creaky fence of Ramshackle Dorm, his tiny paws tapping against the worn wooden porch as he scurried ahead. You fumbled with your keys, listening absentmindedly to his rambling while humming in acknowledgment. Twisting the doorknob, you stepped inside only to pause.

The room was eerily dark, shadows stretching across the lounge like silent observers. Your brows furrowed in confusion, eyes darting around. Something was off. The entrance was… cleaner? The usual scattered books and dust bunnies were nowhere to be seen.

Grim, however, strutted right into the center of the lounge, his tiny paws lifting in excitement. The moment your foot crossed the threshold.

A loud boom was heard causing you to cover your ears grabbing a bat from the side before blinking with wide eyes when seeing a shower of confetti rained down like cherry blossoms caught in the wind.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!”

The room exploded with cheers as the lights flickered on, bathing the transformed Ramshackle lounge in a golden glow. Your eyes widened in sheer wonder. The once dilapidated space had been completely reimagined. Golden lanterns floated gently in the air, casting a warm, magical shimmer. Elegant banners draped across the ceiling, twinkling under the glow of an enchanted chandelier. The rich aroma of freshly baked pastries and cakes filled the air, mingling with the scent of tea and just the faintest trace of magic.

Your heart swelled. Overwhelmed in the best possible way, you took in the sight of all your friends gathered together, faces bright with excitement.

“You knooow, [Nickname], you should really be thanking us for keeping this a surprise,” Ace drawled, slinging an arm around your shoulders with his usual mischievous smirk. “I mean, it was so hard keeping our mouths shut, especially with Deuce almost spilling the beans like a hundred times.”

Your gaze shifted, catching sight of Deuce as he sputtered beside you. You let out a snort at his flustered expression “H-Hey! That’s not true!” Deuce stammered, his face flushing bright red. “I only almost slipped once!” “You almost slipped six times,” Riddle interjected, arms crossed, giving Deuce a pointed look.

Deuce shrank under his gaze, muttering something under his breath. Riddle exhaled, shaking his head before turning to you, his firm expression softening. “Regardless, I expect everyone to behave today… especially you, Ace.” His sharp gaze flicked back to the redhead.

Ace groaned but didn’t argue. “This is your special day,” Riddle continued, offering a small, neatly wrapped box. His usual strict demeanor was replaced with a rare, gentle smile. “Happy birthday, [Name].” Trey and Cater approached next, both grinning warmly.

“Ah, [Name], I made some special treats for you,” Trey said, nodding toward the buffet table overflowing with a variety of sweets. Cater beamed, handing you a rectangular box. “And I got you the best gift, Prefect. No need to thank me!” He winked playfully.

You laughed, thanking them both before tucking the gifts under your arm. From across the room, Leona lounged lazily on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest. “Tch. Don’t expect me to get all sentimental, Herbivore,” he drawled, glancing at you briefly. His usual smirk softened just the slightest bit. “But… hope it’s a decent one.”

Nearby, Ruggie cackled, stuffing a pastry into his mouth. “Shishishi, thanks for the free food, [Name]!” Jack stepped forward, tail wagging slightly as he held out a small potted cactus. “Happy birthday,” he muttered, his ears twitching faintly.

You carefully took the plant from his hands, grinning at the unexpected but thoughtful gift. “Thank you, Jack,” you said sincerely. Before you could react, arms suddenly wrapped around you from behind, pulling you into a tight squeeze.

“Ehhh~? You look all teary-eyed, [Name],” Floyd whined, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Did we really surprise ya that much?” His grip tightened just enough to make you squirm. “Floyd,” Jade’s smooth voice cut in as he effortlessly pried his twin off you. “If you suffocate them, they won’t be able to enjoy the party.”

Jade handed you a beautifully wrapped gift with a polite smile. “Happy birthday. I do hope you find our present to your liking.” Azul adjusted his glasses from the side, smirking. “And if you ever wish to extend the celebration, I’d be happy to offer a discount for a future birthday package at the Monstro Lounge… as a special offer, of course.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you thanked them. Your gaze suddenly locked onto a familiar shade of gleaming ruby red.

Kalim practically bounced over, grabbing your hands with an excited grin. “Were you surprised?! Were you?! We worked so hard on this! Jamil helped a lot, but I picked out all the decorations! Banquets and parties are my thing! Oh, and we even made food from different places we’re from! Jamil made some from scalding sand and—” His words tumbled out at lightning speed, his enthusiasm practically radiating off him.

Beside him, Jamil sighed but didn’t interrupt, his expression softer than usual. “Happy birthday, Prefect,” he murmured. A light dusting of pink coated your cheeks as you thanked them.

Before you could respond further, a gentle tug at your hand led you away. Turning, you found yourself in front of Vil, Rook, and Epel.

“You should feel honored,” Vil said smoothly, eyeing you with a critical yet satisfied expression. “Not only did I ensure that this party was up to proper standards, but I also made sure you looked flawless for the occasion.” He motioned toward the elegant outfit he had gifted you, refined and stunning undoubtedly Vil’s doing.

Rook grinned. “Ah, Trickster! May this celebration shine as brightly as you!” Epel leaned in, whispering, “I’m just happy there’s barbecue steaks.” A short laugh escaped you as you thanked them.

As you moved through the crowd, you spotted Idia half-hidden behind a pillar, hoodie up, muttering to himself. “Ugh… too many normies in one place… but I guess… happy birthday, or whatever,” he mumbled, cheeks tinged pink.

Ortho, however, beamed brightly, hovering beside him. “Big bro got this for you!” he said excitedly, handing you a figurine box of your favorite character. “I hope you have the best birthday ever, [Name]!”

Your heart warmed as you smiled at them. “Thank you, Ortho. And thank you, Idia.” Idia let out a quiet squeak but hesitantly waved back.

Finally, at the far end of the room, standing just slightly apart from the others, was Malleus. His glowing emerald eyes held a quiet fondness as he approached, a small yet elegantly wrapped box in his hands.

“I have witnessed many celebrations, but this one is special,” he murmured, his voice gentle. “Because it is yours. I hope this day is as radiant as you are, Child of Man.”

The night carried on with laughter, music, and endless fun. Cake was cut, Trey’s masterpiece, of course. Gifts were exchanged, each one chosen with care. Every moment felt surreal, a reminder of how much warmth surrounded you in this strange yet wonderful world.

As the group gathered for a photo, you couldn't help but glance at the locket around your neck, fingers brushing over its familiar surface.

Yes.

This was a birthday you would never forget... and one that made your heart clench.

You stood in front of your mirror, clad in your pajamas, bathed in the dim glow of Ramshackle’s old lanterns. The party was over. The laughter had faded. The warmth of your friends, the joy of the celebration. it all felt like a dream now, distant and fleeting.

Grim lay sprawled across your bed, snoring softly, his tiny body rising and falling with each peaceful breath. He twitched in his sleep, a bit of drool pooling on the sheets as he mumbled about food. It was almost funny. Almost.

But while he dreamt of endless feasts, you stood there, staring at your own reflection, trapped in a different kind of dream.

A nightmare.

Your fingers curled into weak fists at your sides. You swallowed, trying to shake the hollowness gnawing at your chest, but it was relentless. You were older now. Another year had passed. A special day meant to be spent with family, but instead, you were here in a world of magic, a world that was never meant to be yours.

Your dull, empty eyes met themselves in the glass. The mirror.

The same mirror where Mickey had once appeared, his presence a strange comfort, a lingering connection to something beyond this realm. But now?

Nothing.

The mirror had been silent. No answer. No way home. Crowley being useless and unable to help at all you couldn't help but grit your teeth.

Your breath hitched as something twisted violently inside you, a feeling so raw and overwhelming that it made your skin prickle. You tried to steady yourself, but the weight of it all the overblots, the endless battles, the uncertainty of ever returning home came crashing down like a tidal wave.

Your hands shot up, gripping at your hair as a broken breath escaped your lips. You had been strong for so long. You had smiled, you had laughed, you had reassured your friends, but in the end, who was there to reassure you?

Your chest tightened painfully. It was too much.

Your vision blurred, your throat constricting as a shuddering gasp left you. You felt yourself shaking, trembling as your knees weakened beneath you. The air felt thinner, suffocating.

Your hand reached for the locket around your neck, gripping it so tightly that your knuckles turned white. The familiar weight of it against your palm should have been comforting, but instead, it only deepened the ache in your heart.

What if you never saw them again?

What if this was all you had left?

The mirror before you trembled. A tiny fracture splintered across the glass, a jagged crack splitting through your reflection, and just like that, something inside you broke, too.

Drip Drip Drip...

[woso-dreamzzz]

Head In The Clouds: Christmas

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Mcdreamy

"No! Don't touch!"

Irene yelps as a wooden spatula slams onto her knuckles.

"I just-"

"No!" You insist, waving the spatula around again in warning. "This is my kitchen! Don't touch!"

"I can help!"

"No! Go!"

Irene looks like she wants to argue more but you raise the spatula again and she puts her hands up in a placating manner as she backs away onto the sofa.

Marta holds out a tray of tiny sausages to her. "You got kicked out of the kitchen too?"

"I was just trying to help."

Marta shrugs. "You know what she's like. Nothing comes between her and cooking."

"I swear she's been cooking for ages," Irene complains," She was up early too, I just know it."

"You can't prove it though," Patri says smugly, snatching some food for herself and munching away," Plausible deniability and all that."

"She needs a break."

"Don't bring that up with her," Frido says as she takes a seat on the arm of the sofa," You know she'd spend hours in that kitchen if she could. That's what we get for agreeing to dinner with a kid who's parents are chefs."

"No touching!" You yell from the kitchen and the little group cranes their hands to see your waving that spatula around in Alexia's face.

"I was just-"

"No! You're ruining! You're not allowed to touch! It's against the rules!"

"What rules?"

"My rules! The rules of my kitchen! That you are standing in!"

"Come on, just let me-"

"No!"

Irene smothers a laugh as you stamp your foot.

"You can fill up drinks or you can go away."

Keira laughs from the cosy armchair. "I'd listen to her, Ale! You're not going to get the best food if you distract her."

Alexia grumpily wedges herself onto the already over-full sofa. "I'm just trying to help. She's making this dinner for the whole team. I don't want her to get overwhelmed."

Keira rolls her eyes. "Her parents literally have Michelin stars. She grew up in the kitchen of world famous restaurants. I doubt doing a bit of cooking at home is going to overwhelm her."

Just as she finishes speaking, ten different timers ring out through the air, one after another, and Keira winces.

"I'm sure that's on purpose," She says as Alexia levels her a pointed look.

To be fair to you, you're not overwhelmed in the slightest and Alexia can see the moment the instinct takes over you like it does on the pitch, when everything around you completely disappears apart from what is directly in front of you.

Most of the time, it ends with a goal.

But here and now, it ends with the biggest spread of food she's ever seen cooked by one person before.

It's truly impressive what you've managed to produce for everyone, a buffet style meal that the whole team can pick and choose what they want from and still come back for seconds.

"You shouldn't eat too much," You say as you settle into your seat between Irene and Ingrid," Because I've got dessert as well. It's my Nana's recipe and I'd like you all to try it."

"We'll make sure to save room," Mapi promises as she reaches over the table to wrestle the stuffing away from Patri's clingy hands.

You beam at her. It's a wide smile, the same smile you get when you score a goal out of nowhere - making triumph out of nothing as you so often do after a pass that no one expects you to turn into an assist.

A big meal like this isn't a strange thing in your family back home. Your brothers are very busy people and your parents spend most of their time prepping for the dinner service of their restaurant every night.

But Christmas meant the whole family got together again. With your brothers mainly based in the Netherlands, you didn't see them as often until you and your parents were at arrivals at Heathrow Airport and the three of them came in after baggage claim.

With the family together again, it meant making a feast of a meal for Christmas with everyone in the kitchen, working around each other fluidly like your parents had taught you when you were little.

It felt nice to share this kind of meal with your teammates even after you came to the conclusion that none of them worked particularly fluidly in your kitchen and then had to get banned for your own peace of mind.

It filled you with pride to have your teammates eating and enjoying your food to such a degree that even the older, more responsible players like Marta and Alexia and Irene asked if you could box up some of the meal so they could eat some for leftovers the next day.

"You know," Alexia says when you finally allow her into your kitchen, if only to help you wash up," If you want to stay in Spain for Christmas, I can take you home with me. My family would love the food you cook."

"Don't joke around with stuff like that," Irene teases, dragging the drying up cloth over the plate that Mapi had just finished cleaning," Because if she's coming home with anyone for Christmas, it'll be me."

"I can't," You say simply as you put the lid on another portion of leftovers, this time for Salma," Because I've got to go home. My parents are closing the restaurant a couple of days early so we can pick up my brothers from the airport and I can't miss that."

"Well-"

"And I have to be home so my girlfriend can call and read me poetry on Christmas Eve. It's tradition."

"That's..." Irene clears her throat. "That's really sweet."

"And she always reads to me in French because she knows I'm trying to learn for her. So, I can't stay here because then I won't see my brothers and before my girlfriend reads me poetry, she likes seeing my pets at home and I can't show her my pets if I'm here."

Alexia laughs and you furrow your brows in confusion.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Alexia says, throwing an arm around your shoulder and squeezing you like she does when you score a goal," You're such a sweetheart, y/n. Don't ever change."

[angelsluva]

can you write a fic of hamzah, martin, and mandy going on a cruise to mexico for reader’s 21st birthday and they blog the whole trip for readers youtube channel. ( and can you add in some smut🤪)

birthday cruise | Hamzahthefantastic

fem reader + nsfw, wrd count: 1.9k

`It was a couple weeks before Hamzah and Martin would come back from they're break. You and Hamzah have been able to spend more time together and it was the best for you two. Him being the clingy person he is he loved every second he'd spend with you.

Mandy and Martin loved traveling together, but they also loved when all four of you guys would go. You all decided to go on a cruise just to enjoy your last days of break together AND celebrate your 21'st Birthday before they spend another 10+ hours in the office.

|

You looked outside of the window of the plane as you saw the most bluest water ever. You looked back at your boyfriend who was also looking outside the window knowing he was gonna spend the best time with you.

The plane finally landed in the bright sunny Mexico. Bright colored birds flew over your head as you were getting off the plane and a not so cool but warm breeze hit your face. You all were quick to get off the plane and currently waiting in the arrivals of the airport waiting for your uber.

"Oh my god, I love this weather!" You smiled putting your hand up feeling the warmness of the breeze. "I'm already getting hot! Is it just me?" Hamzah said unzipping his hoodie as you laughed. After a couple more 20 minutes of waiting you were all picked up by a van on your way to the cruise ship. You looked outside the seat of your window noticing things you would never see in Canada.

"I'm so excited!" you squealed as Hamzah kissed your head as his arm was wrapped around your shoulders.

You all four had agreed on getting separate rooms so it would be Mandy and Martin next to you both.

|

You all were finally boarding the ship as you couldn't believe you were on a single floating ship that carried more than 500 people. You began to feel a small anxiousness creep over you as you looked for your rooms, Obviously Hamzah noticed and decided to hold your hand.

"Are you okay babe?" He questioned as you nodded your head. "Yeah, I'm just kind of scared that I'll get sea sick or something." you sighed as he pulled you closer to him, "Lets just try to have the best night okay? And If you don't feel good we can always get off and go somewhere else." He said lowly as you nodded and kissed him.

After making it to your shared room you suddenly felt so much better. You looked at the Bright clear blue sky and the pattern of the waves the ever so blue ocean would make. You leaned against the balcony as you felt Hamzah's hands wrap around your waist. "So pretty" you smiled as he nipped your cheek - "Just like you" he added as you cupped the side of his face. You all decided to get ready and go eat since you haven't had anything since the morning of your flight. You wore a black bikini and threw over a matching black crochet dress that laid all the way down to at least your ankles. You freshened your self up and you both we're out of the door waiting for Martin and Mandy at a Buffet.

"Wow that looks so good on you babe" He said feeling the crochet dress, "Thank you baby" you said pecking him in the lips as he got closer to your ear - "I'm so glad we got a room to ourselves" he whispered as you pushed him off you "Hamzah!" you laughed as "What!? I'm serious!" he giggled as you saw Mandy and Martin finally arrive.

"Dude I kind of wish Rudolph was here man" Martin laid his head on Hamzah's shoulder and Hamzah rubbed Martin back, "I know, I know, me too".

You all four had sat down on a table in front of a beautiful view of the sunset, The waiter had suddenly came to take everyone's order.

"I'll do two steaks please for us and all of your special drinks!" Hamzah said handing the waiter the menu as your eyes widened in shock. "It's her special day! 21'st by the way, Thanks!" He added as the waiter smiled and left. "What was that!" Mandy bursted out laughing as you were re-thinking coming here in the first place. You all were joking the whole night until all 15 drinks finally arrived. You looked at Hamzah who had a devilish smirk on his face, "Why would you do this!" you planted your face on your palm "It's okay! Mandy and Martin will help! See!" He said giving two drinks to Mandy and Martin "Woahhh I don't know about that!" Mandy laughed as Martin shrugged his shoulders picking up a glass and downing it as Mandy took the glass away from him.

You all spent the rest of the dinner trying to finish the drinks as you all watched the night come together as bright lights hung from the top of the cruise.

After finishing dinner, you all made your way to the giant pool of the Cruise.

You slid your dress off as you slowly stepped into the pool with Hamzah. The warm air and cool pool was the perfect relaxing mix. You dunked your head in as he laughed. You got up from under the water as he dove splashing next to you. He charged picking you up as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He shook his head as you ran your fingers through his blonde grown out buzz.

"I'm so glad we were able to do this" he hummed "I know, These next 6 days are gonna be the best ever" you smiled as his lips crashed into yours. Your hands ran through his arms, biceps and around his neck. You felt splashing onto you as Mandy and Martin had joined the both of you. You all four decided to grab a few more drinks since it was a very special day for you. You obviously all agreed those were gonna be your last drinks of the night.

you all talked and vlogged for a bit for Mandy's channel. Meanwhile playing around a splashing in the water you couldn't help but notice Hamzah always getting behind you or not taking his hands off you.

"You look so gorgeous right now my love" he hummed into your ear as you looked at hamzah's red flushed face as his hands were glued to your waist, "please can we go to the room" he said needy for you. You never knew Hamzah was this crazy clingy when he was a little tispy.

|

Your legs were wrapped around Hamzah’s waist as he carried you to your room. It was just you two who remained in the pool until you both got kicked out eventually. He swung the door open as he kicked his sandals off as he sat at the edge of the bed as your lips met his. He rested his hands on your waist as he fidgeted with the strings of your bikini. Your hands wrapped around his necks tugging him closer to you as he leaned back on to the bed as you followed his move.

“I was waiting for this moment this whole day so far” he bit his bottom lip as you crawled on top of him as you fell on top of him. His hands traveling all over your back as your lips were sealed to his. His tongue slipped into your mouth as he grabbed the side of your face as you lowly moaned into his mouth. His lips parting off of yours as his eyes glistened, he loved hearing that noise come out of your mouth. He kissed your lips once again as you melted under him. He rolled around as you shifted under him as his knee was pinned between your heat. You whined as you couldn’t handle the friction between him and your sensitive cunt. His lips traced down your neck as your skin grew into goosebumps.

“Fuck Hamzah” you whined as his hands gripped onto your boobs as his mouth found your perky nipples. His free hand having a preview of your wet core. Your whimpers hitched under him. As his hand traveled down to your covered heat. Your hips twitched as you bit your lips.

"So excited huh? Can't wait till I get my fingers in you?" he huffed as his mouth sucked on your breasts. "Fuck yes please Hamzah.." you were able to breath out as his lips crashed into yours once again. Your nails traveled through his short hair as your legs wrapped around his waist already needing all of him. "Try not to be so loud mama" he grunted as his hard erection stood out through his swimming trunks. He lowered them down to his thighs as his erect cock flung upwards only making you desperate for him.

"So fucking desperate huh? Wanna be all over my cock princess?" He whispered as he slipped your panties to the side of your pussy as his thumb circled your sensitive clit. His lips messily kissing your neck as his pace grew rubbing against your clit. Before you were able to compose yourself he rubbed his hard cock against your heated core as your hands grasped onto his shoulders. The friction between his throbbing cock and your clit did wonders on you.

"Please Hamzah!" You whimpered as his member stretched out your aching pussy. Your hands gripped on to his swole forearms (👅) as his body slammed into yours as you yelled in satisfaction.

“Fuck your so good baby-“ he huffed as his lips met your neck once again kissing your chest as your legs wrapped around his waist. His pace grew as your hands traveled through out his hair once again.

“Fuck baby- you gonna come for me baby?” He whispered as you nodded your head in response as your back arched rolling your eyes till the back of your skull. His body slowed down as his lips began moving all over your exposed areas. He couldn’t help but leave a giant hickey close to the back of your neck as you whined in satisfaction. His couple more thrusts sent you into a state of satisfaction as you felt that huge knot release as he groaned into your ear.

“Mhhh- so fucking good. Yes-“ he moaned in between the sloppy thrusts as your stomach was filled with his cum.

“Fuck baby. Open wide.” He groaned as he slipped his twitching hard cock out of your pumping all his left over cum on your breasts and stomach as it left patterns he can stare at all day.

“Your so good for me y/n, happy birthday my love” he panted as he rested next to you as your lips met with his.

|

You both were sat in a warm bath as water slowly dripped from the fancy faucet. He ran the body scrub all over your neck and chest as you leaned on his chest. He loved after care just because he liked making you feel relaxed.

"What are you guys going to do when you both get to the office?" you questioned as your finger circled around a bubble in the water as he scoffed, "That's not important right now baby. What's Important is that you have the best birthday week ever." he hummed as he kissed the top of your head.

"I love you, Hamzah"

"I love you more angel"

_

(a/n: you guys have all the right to throw tomatoes at me for uploading this SO LATE, i just have been busy with so many things and I have so many more things coming but it was this fic holding some sort of grudge!! Without further ado I hope you guys enjoy >-<)

[nightingale-prompts]

The Eldritch Coffeehouse-DCxDP prompt-part 2(I guess)

Part 1

Elle had a way of convincing people. Like how she convinced Damian Wayne that they were now best friends and to come over to her family's business after-school.

Damian was only going along with this because of the prodding of his family to make friends. This wasn't something that came easy to him as no one would understand him. But Nightingale had been more understanding than most in his life. She was very...nice. She had these big ideas that always went ahead of her and plans that were larger than life. She always had too much energy and found it hard in school to get it out. Naturally, she was head of the track team but she'd always complain about wanting to join the music club.

Jon had met her once while trying to sneak up on them at the end of the day. She pinned him in a triangle chokehold until Damian called her off. Damian didn't call her off immediately though.

She was still more apologetic than he liked.

"I can make it up to you guys. Let's go to my family's café! We can eat ourselves sick on pastries and cake! My brother should still be making hot chocolate right now!" She told them.

Damian was nice enough to tell Dick where he was going and to not wait up. Alfred was already in the car in front of the school and drove the three to the...graveyard?

"Thank you Mister Pennyworth! Do you want to join us?" Elle asked loudly but politely.

Alfred accepted graciously and agreed to stay for a cup of tea before heading back. He would come pick up Damian later.

The walk through the graveyard was daunting for Jon and only for Jon. It wasn't as scary as he thought since it was only the afternoon and the weather was warm. A few cats rested on tombstones soaking in the heat. A few birds gathered here and there hunting for worms and seeds. There were food and water dishes here and there for the felines and fresh seeds sprinkled on the grass for the birds.

"I usually clean and change the food dishes in the morning. But Dan likes to feed the birds."

Elle walked the row of mausoleums until she stopped at one and pushed the stone door open and a skipped down a stairs and opened the smooth mahogany door in the café.

Behind the counter a young man stood pouring drinks.

"Elle you're back. Take this cup to table 3." He said putting a cup and saucer on a serving tray.

"I just got here! At least let me change or tell you we have guests." She whined but picked up the trey and marched over to the table.

"Guests? I'm sorry. Welcome to the Catacomb Club. How can we make your afterlife?" He said smoothly.

"Elle said we could eat sweets," Jon spoke up first and Damian elbowed him.

"Oh? Well, we have a batch of leftovers from this morning. Since you're her school friends you can get some from the kitchen." The barista said.

"Yay! Thanks Danny!" Elle had returned and opened the door to the backroom to grab some fresh plates and loading them up with sweets.

"Anything I can get for you, sir?" Danny asked Alfred.

"Just an Earl Gray. Or an Early Grave as you call it on the menu." Alfred said.

***

Elle presents a variable buffet of sweets to the boys. She really meant it when she said eat themselves sick.

The menu had no shortage of available snacks:

Tombstone Tarts – Mini fruit tarts with gravestone-shaped pastry toppers. (Jazz's pick)

Phantom Opera Cake – Layers of dark chocolate and coffee mousse with a smoky glaze.(Save a slice for Danny's SPECIAL guest (Jazz STOP)

Ethereal Cheesecake – A white chocolate cheesecake with a "foggy" vanilla glaze (You can just slap the word ethereal on things when you can't come up with something witty.) (Watch me)

Shadow Éclairs – Black cocoa éclairs filled with blood orange cream. (DANNY STOP EATING THE ORANGES) (no)

Soulful Scones – Charcoal scones served with berry jam and clotted cream.

Midnight Mocha Cupcakes – Chocolate cupcakes with espresso buttercream and a ghostly fondant topper. (Ew fondant)

Cemetery Soil – Chocolate pudding "dirt" with gummy worms and cookie gravestones. (Dani ate all the gummy worms again)

Wraith Cupcakes – Vanilla cupcakes with smoky gray frosting and sugar ghost toppers. (Dani's favorite)

Blackberry Bat Muffins – Dark muffins with blackberry compote and bat-shaped toppers. (Save some for that Cass girl)

Candied Skull Pops – Lollipops shaped like skulls in eerie colors.

Necropolis Nougat – Black and white nougat with bits of candied nuts and dried fruit. (Dan's favorite) (Weirdo)

Spirit’s Whisper Bark – White and dark chocolate bark with ghostly swirls and edible glitter.(please don't let Dani eat the glitter)

Moonlight Marshmallows – Homemade marshmallows in ghost or crescent moon shapes. (Danny's favorite)

Blood Velvet Rolls – Red velvet Swiss rolls filled with red cream cheese frosting. (Dan's favorite) (you can't have more than one favorite) (watch me)

Just like the rest of the menu there were comments going back and forth.

"The workers seem to argue constantly." Damian said bitting into a tart

Jon was making his way through the cake pops first.

"Well, we are family. We argue all the time but we don't mean it. Although I'm still mad they didn't like my dessert list." Elle sighed.

"Like what?" Damian asked.

"I had so many ideas like Eyeball pops filled with jelly, Bloody Bones white chocolate covered in raspberry syrup, or Maggot Macaroons with gummy worms in them," Elle said wiggling her fingers to mimic worms. "But Jazz said they were too gross sounding to sell. Humans have such weak stomachs."

Damian wanted to point out that Jon wasn't human and even he turned green. Damian on the other hand was intrigued. Elle was always entertaining to listen to.

The three enjoyed their snacks after Alfred finished his tea and took off.

Jon's Kryptonian appetite helped get through the bulk of it because Damian stopped short to not spoil his appetite.

This was wise since the Cafe preparing to switch to its bar setting with a more lively Jazz band and dinner menu.

Jon groaned at the thought of more food as he rested his face on the cool polished wood that smelled faintly of rose incense. He should have noticed by now that something as off but his stomach has been a major distraction. Had it been his father then who was trained to sense the issue the jig would have been up.

You see, they were the only mortals in the room.

Not one heartbeat could be heard. Jon should have known so much earlier when Elle managed to surprise him without her heart rate going up.

"Dani- I mean Elle?" A voice from the kitchen called.

A young woman with long red locks came into view. Her dress, a 50s style black tea-length poodle skirt. Instead of the usual poodle pattern on the hem, there was a white skeletal cat. She had on a pair of balck frilled short gloves. Other than her dress she wore an apron with a black ribcage design that matched the uniforms of the other workers/family members here. Her teal eyes softened when she saw Elle sitting with her friends

"Yeah, Jazz?" Elle asked.

"Do you still want to go on stage tonight or do you want to stay with your friends? And do you still want dinner?" Jazz asked in succession.

"I'm still going to do my set. And can I get carbonara and a glass of...um..." Elle struggled to find the word for the liquid that every undead in the area came here for. "My medicine."

Damian's ear picked up the hesitation in her voice.

"You take a perception?" Damian said perhaps a bit thoughtless since not everyone wants to talk about their medical issues. But he had never seen her take medicine at school and didn't know a medication that would be taken later in the day that wasn't also taken early.

"Kinda, it's something I have to take to keep living. But it like it, the juice I mean. You'd like it too but you don't need it. Dan is kinda stingy with who gets some. You types aren't allowed. Only members." Elle knew that this place was an open secret. It's not like they kept their ghostly nature secret. Everyone just thinks they are keeping up the theme while they were all completely serious. Besides lying isn't their nature.

Still, Elle wasn't being completely honest which isn't something that comes naturally to her. Bending the truth will have to do.

Damian let it go for now. He didn't need to know her medical history...yet.

Jon was taking a nap now anyways. Damian stole his phone out of his pocket and sent a text to the Kent family in case they wanted to know where Jonathan was.

Ellehad to change clothes into her uniform and grab her violin. It wasn't a surprise to Damian who knew she like music but he had never heard her play. Now she was on stage playing with the folk band as the guest clapped and danced.

Jazz brought out some food for them to eat while Danny traded places with a tall burly man who was definitely the eldest brother.

As Damian ate he listened to Elle play...well the band play but it was mostly Elle who he was listening for. He heard a familiar voice from behind his booth and when he looked over it was none other than Jason fucking Todd talking to the bartender. Talking? I meant failing miserably to flirt and having the tables turned on him easily.

[bluemerakis]

────────── ᝰ bluemerakis ༝༚༝༚ ────

❝ i'm not going anywhere ❞

part ii/iii

read part i here

─ ۶ৎ ─

pairing ୨୧ soldier boy x fem!supe!reader — how they met

warnings .ᐟ cussing, mild angst, mild harassment of reader via side character, described violence (nothing intense), reader being a baddie (as she should), fluff, spanking, pet names. lmk if I forgot any! :))

synopsis ─ as you make all the preparations for tonight’s plan to flee the russian compound, you run into trouble that forces you to confront your supe nature. the boys arrive shortly after to help you free ben, where you discover that he has a new, deadly power. unresolved tension forces yourself and ben to split from the rest of the group and find your own way out.

word count ~ 15.9k (i'm SO sorry)

──────────────────────

From the sidelines of the testing room, you watched with wistful eyes as the heavily armed guards streamed inside and fanned around Ben’s entrapped figure. He put on a display for them, writhing between the chains and hurling out all manner of insults to convey his disdain of the Russians. You knew the emotions were true, only more dramatised for the sake of make-belief; it was any other day, not the last.

Through the planned commotion, Ben slipped you a discreet glance, and you caught the slightest dip of his chin before his head was forcibly pressed against the table by one of the guards. Your heart ached at the sight of his fully-pinned figure, more guards streaming in through the door and swarming about him like an exploded hornet’s nest on the prowl for its next victim. One of the braver men came up to press an arm across your boyfriend’s neck and slapped an oxygen mask over his flaring nose and mouth, then with a single flick of the mechanism, Novichok gas streamed into the chamber.

As the nerve agent buffeted Ben’s unwilling airways, the guards had to fix his head in place with great effort as the Supe attempted to dislodge the mask with grunts of protest. His lungs were desperate to reject the debilitating gas with strong fits of coughing, but his effort was to no avail.

You watched as the Supe’s frantic movements began to dwindle, the anger framing his eyes softening with his wilting glare. He blinked many times to try and fight off the haze, but it consumed him entirely— finally stilling him into a docile puppet. His eyes lolled to the back of his head, his lids clamping shut to preserve his dignity while the clatter of chains against the steel table settled at last.

And just like that, the super-abled, invincible brute that was Soldier Boy had been subdued.

The guards held their formation for a few seconds longer, the mask suffocating half of Ben’s face emitting the last of its gas for good measure. Once they were certain that he was asleep, they slowly began to release their hold on him, the oxygen mask removed from his face. The last guard to go was the one still holding Ben’s limp head, and when he was given the go ahead, he released it without a care, causing it to topple to the side to face you.

You grimaced at the lack of respect they showed his comatose form—yeah, he was extremely short of a saint, but he was still a person, one who’d been subjected to years of torture and experiments that should have killed him at any point. If there was anything that could’ve warranted some ounce of respect, you’d have settled for that fact alone. But you couldn’t have much of a say in the matter when he was only supposed to be your experiment.

Besides, in your line of work, you’d be speaking from the place of a fucking hypocrite—what’s a little rough handling compared to repeatedly stabbing poisoned needles into his arm, just hoping it doesn’t kill him?

Taking in a deep breath, you lifted your chin slightly with a great effort to appear unfazed by the entire ordeal. You couldn’t help drinking in Ben’s expressionless features, though, noting that for the first time since you’d known him, he looked almost peaceful. You hoped that he was—that he’d been swept into some or other dream to help him pass the time of this dull, inhumane routine. You recalled the dream he’d told you about only an hour earlier, the one where’d you’d both been an entangled mess within his bed.

Despite the crude way he’d painted the picture, it had been a rather fond milestone in your relationship. It was the first time Ben had found it in himself to man up—as ironic as that sounded—and admit with his own two lips that he loved you.

You walled off your thoughts as the head guard appeared at your side, your attention shifting to where they brought in a rolling table and lined it up beside the operating table. You watched as the guards slowly began to undo the chains wreathed around Ben’s sleeping figure.

“Did everything go smoothly?” The head guard asked, his voice muffled beneath his all black ensemble. His shoulder lined up beside yours as he turned to watch Ben’s unloading beside you.

You heaved a subtle sigh through your nose, head fixed forward as you watched them shovel your boyfriend’s body onto the rolling table with a spiteful lack of care. Not having the energy to speak, you offered a mere nod.

Thankfully, your response was satisfactory enough, the guard returning your nod before he left your side to bring up the rear of the patrol rolling Ben toward the exit. The Supe’s arm was dangled over the side of the table, and your eyes latched onto the plaster you’d placed before he was moved through the doorway and the sight was ripped from view.

But the image lingered in your mind. Never again would you have to place another plaster—or needle—in his arm. Come tonight, there’d be no need to because you’d both be free of this rotten hellhole.

The testing room became eerily quiet as you were left alone to bathe in your emotional haze. There were a few routinely things you’d have to do before tonight’s escape. You glanced over your shoulder at the case you’d left on table, the one that had born the experimental compound you’d injected into Ben. It was standard procedure to return the case to the experimental lab following each session, along with completing a written log about the process—vitals, patient response, any hiccups in the administration.

You were tempted to forsake it all out of spite. A harsh scolding and beating for failure to comply would matter little if you weren’t here to receive the punishment. But you knew you couldn’t risk the extra attention of getting caught in misconduct—couldn’t let your emotions get the best of you when there was so much riding on your role in tonight’s plan. So you held your breath, not without scorn, and marched over to collect the case before leaving the room without so much as a last glance back.

There was no detail worth remembering about that place—if anything, you hoped its image would fade within short time.

The day was still young. With far too much time to kill, you’d fulfilled your duties by returning all the equipment to its due place. You’d been in and out of almost every room of the compound, where you’d made a point to start discreetly packing a branded corporate backpack you’d nicked from the clothing and gear room. You’d begun loading it with necessary supplies—a first aid kit, medication, clothing, even managing to procure a set of burner phones for yourself and Ben.

Throughout it all, you’d kept your pace brisk to minimise interactions with the far too chatty employees of the establishment. The last thing you needed was to get caught in conversation with a loaded and somewhat illegal backpack in clutch.

To wrap up your tedious responsibilities of the day, you were bent over one of the tables in the compound’s common room, logging all the details of your session into the designated book. The bitter aroma of filter coffee hung in the air, which you breathed in with eager appreciation. As much as this place sucked, the coffee had always been good—great, even. There’d been a pot brewing before you entered the room, and you only hoped that the person who’d put it on wouldn’t return while you were still around.

The backpack was laid between your feet as you scribbled away busily, keeping the details of your time with Ben as subtle and concise as possible. Your hand dragged along the paper to terminate the log with your signature, and just as you set the pen down with a tired sigh, a heavyset pair of boots pounded into the room.

Your heart seized on the spot with a heartfelt fuck.

“Hey, you,” an all too familiar voice greeted.

You glanced over your shoulder to confirm the worst of your suspicions, where you were faced with the guard that’d gotten into a spat with Ben. He had the beginning of light bruising all around his nose that had bloomed up the route of his sinuses, light purple crescents propping up both his eyes. You had to fashion great restraint to avoid grimacing at the sight. You were surprised he’d walk around with such a visual admittance of defeat in the first place, as opposed to signing off early and hiding out at home until the bruising wore off.

“Oh—hey,” you pushed out tensely, turning your body to fully face him before leaning your backside against the table. You crossed your one leg in front of the other and used your furthermost heel to try and slide your backpack beneath the table, bidding internal prayers that his attention wouldn’t stray to your restless movements. “Finishing off your shift?” You asked, eager to hold his attention.

The guard must’ve noticed your gaze lingering on his bruises for a few seconds too long because he dragged a hasty palm over his face before cradling the back of his neck out of hot embarrassment.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he insisted. “I’ve always been a big bleeder and bruiser—my mother used to tease me about it when I was a little boy, always falling and scraping my knees. I used to look like I’d come back from a war,” he laughed behind an almost expectant stare, so you forced a chuckle to entertain his babbling.

He took a step toward you, and there was far too little space between your bodies for your liking. “Anyways. . . would you, uh, maybe like to have a coffee with me? There’s enough in the pot for two, and I wouldn’t want it to go to waste. It should be done soon.”

You glanced over your shoulder at the brewing pot in the corner of the room, then turned back to him with a polite smile. “I appreciate that, but not tonight. It’s been a long day, to say the least. I really just need to get home and crawl into bed.”

With another smile, you leaned your hands against the table, fingers beginning to tap at the wood impatiently. Get the fuck out of here already, you groaned internally, ankle feeling at the fabric of your backpack.

During work hours in the compound, no employee was allowed to carry around baggage. It was a safety precaution to ensure no items would be stolen. All baggage had to be checked in and out at the front desks, where the guards—guards like him—would do a thorough search to ensure nobody had nicked anything time-worthy. And then the baggage would be checked into a personal locker for the entire day until closing time.

Nothing coming in, nothing going out.

The only exception is the branded backpack you currently carried, which was often used to transport equipment between rooms of the compound. But they were typically reserved for the technician assistants—as is their job to lug around equipment for the more important personnel. And you had no business carrying one around at this hour of the day, anyway—most of the employees would’ve already signed off and headed home with no further work to pursue.

It made you suspicious, to say the least. Getting caught with supplies like medication and burner phones would warrant you a one-way ticket to a good beating. There would be no passable excuse you could pluck from the depths of your ass to cover yourself against that.

You needed to get out of here. Now.

The guard looked briefly offended by your rejection, but was quick to blink away the expression before lifting a hand to wipe his nose incredulously.

“Okay—yeah, of course,” he sniffed, briefly glancing off to the side. When he turned to look at you again, he crossed his arms as he did a sweep over your figure. “Well, shouldn’t you be off, then? You seem pretty comfortable, unless you’re not in a rush to get home to a boyfriend?”

You could have scoffed at his transparency, but with a man like him, you doubted that he’d take it well, and you had no idea whether anyone would be around to hear you scream. Not that you had real reason to be afraid—you were a Supe well within her abilities to protect herself. Only, very few in the establishment still knew that. You’d been around for far too long, watching as other employees came and went with the years while you remained tethered by emotional obligation. A done deal. Love.

Besides, you liked to keep your business on the down-low, it was safer that way. Most of the employees here were as anti-Supe as most of the world—and why wouldn’t they be? This entire operation was quite literally founded on experimenting on the super-abled. There was no remorse, or love for Supes to be found here.

You tried to pass a nonchalant shrug. “I guess I’m not in a rush,” you admitted tensely, extra hyperaware of the backpack you’d now managed to successfully push beneath the table.

The guard took another step closer, now directly towering over you. “Then you could stay for that coffee, yeah?” He prompted, his voice low and dripping with distasteful intent. “No boyfriend to get back to, right?” He added more softly, teeth flashing with a lewd grin. You caught his eyes flickering down to your lips.

No way in fucking hell. Standing a little taller, you returned his gaze firmly. “No, thanks,” you reiterated, holding your ground as he glared you down. You refused to be intimidated by him; he’d have to know that, too.

The guard looked eerily thoughtful. “All right,” he relented, but his cornering position didn’t falter. “Just one last thing, though. . .” He trailed off with a smugness that tugged at your patience. You knew he was playing some sort of twisted game, and he wanted you to take your turn.

“What’s that?” You pushed out disinterestedly. You expected that he’d try and find some other angle to knead that would get you to relent to his harassment. But what he said next was far from expected, your body seizing on the spot as your heart plummeted to the depths of your chest.

“You think I didn’t notice that little bag you’ve been sneaking around the entire day?”

Your breathing became shallow, and you couldn’t do anything but watch as the guard bent his head to creep his lips close to your ear.

“I’ve been watching you all day.” His breath was hot against your chilled skin, setting off your instinct to flee. “Now, I could be asking you what you need all of those things for. . .” His hands came to trap your body on either side of the table. “Or, we could come to a little agreement, and I’ll let your little rule-breaker slip, hm?”

You craned your head away from his lips, turning to face him with a scorching frown. “Get the fuck off of me,” you spat lowly.

The guard looked mildly amused. “Or what?” He challenged.

Without replying, you lifted your hand from the table, palm facing skywards as your fingers began to curl with malicious intent. The guard’s attention flickered down to witness your gesture with clear confusion etched across his battered face—but the confusion was quickly turned to panic as your fingers began to draw into a slow first, and the Supe that you’d buried deep within you all those years ago began to resurface.

At the will of your fist, you watched the vessels of his eyes begin to thicken—gutters of red paving way through his pearly sclera until it struck his dark pupils, causing them to dilate uncontrollably with each passing second. His throat began to strain, the air in his passages thinning into non-existence until he could do nothing but splutter and gag on his empty lungs. The warm colour in his lips began to drain into a lifeless shade of blue, matching the veins that rose along his neck and face like prominent ant trails.

And then his strength began to falter.

The guard staggered backwards and fell to his knees, hands flying to grapple at his throat in desperation, as though he could grab ahold of the oxygen currently fleeing every cell of his body and hold it hostage for his exploitation—to continue fuelling his pathetic, abominable existence.

You pushed yourself from the table with your remaining hand, bending over briefly to snatch up your backpack before stringing it over your shoulder. Your other hand was drawn into a fist so tight that your skin began to whiten, almost rivalling the shade of pale that the guard currently wore. And you didn’t relent as you closed in on him, not even when you felt the first trail of blood flee your nostrils, and tasted the acrid, iron tang along the walls of your throat.

The guard glanced up at your approaching figure through bloodshot eyes, his expression a primal fear that only a situation of life or death could coax from you. The veins tracing his entire body became so prominent that they could’ve exploded with a single flick of your finger—and you were tempted.

You came to a stop directly before his pathetic form, not bothering to stoop to his level as you spoke. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” You taunted. “Hypoxia—the very oxygen in your body slipping away until all your systems begin to shut down—slowly, in agonising sequence.”

You began to prowl a circle around his dwindling stature for dramatic effect as you pressed on.

“First, your brain’s cells will die, and you’ll become all confused and disoriented until you’re as dumb as a fucking vegetable. Your heart is the next to go, taking everything down with it. And then, your lungs will start to fail, forcing you to breath deeper and deeper with the desperation to latch onto a single breath. . . but no matter how hard you try, I just won’t allow the air back in. It’s excruciating—” you paused as you watched his body begin to rock with violent convulsions, “—but I don’t need to tell you that, do I?”

You circled back to the front of his body, drinking in his frail effort to stay upright through the spasms—desperate to preserve what pitiful sense of pride he still possessed. You tilted your head mockingly, the first trail of blood fleeing your nose to splatter onto your shirt.

“And do you know what the best part is?” You continued scathingly. “There’s not a damn thing you can do about it—not when it comes to me. All you can do is watch. . . and die.”

Foam began to spill at the corners of the guard’s mouth, his eyes so comically red that it felt like an enactment of the rage he currently bore you—and the sentiment pulled through in his furrowed brows and twisted snarl. You could see the disgust in his expression—a look that practically screamed fucking filthy Supe. Rather a Supe than a rabid fucking animal—and he’d been rabid way before this attack.

“Word of advice,” you pushed on—not that he’d live to follow it. “Maybe don’t fuck with the hand that controls the very air you breathe.”

With a single, thorough jerk of your first, you heard the distinct pop of flesh as you tore through the walls of his organs, the tissues deflating into his sure death. Suddenly, all his movements halted, and there was a single, detestable glint in his eyes before they glazed over with a lifeless stare. His hands toppled to his sides, acting as a domino effect that sent his soulless body to the floor with a hard thud.

You glared at his corpse for a few seconds, the fist you’d held onto finally releasing to reveal leaking, red crescents carved into your palm’s flesh. Trails of blood streamed from your nose and into the hard line your lips had pressed into. You swept your tongue along the flesh to clear it away, swallowing back the thick clotting in your throat. You lifted your aching fist to wipe away the blood trickling from your nose, your lips falling loose to exhale softly.

It’d been years since you’d channelled your abilities, and to such an extreme extent, no less. You felt the way your body trembled, your own breath falling slightly short with the beginning of fatigue, but exhilaration kept your jittery legs firmly rooted. It felt good to tear through that wretched man—and you knew that it shouldn’t have, but it did. It felt. . . powerful.

In all the years you’d been trapped here, you’d had anything but power. Every aspect of your life had been controlled by the Russians, and you’d had no choice other than to be swept along with their will. Your gaze dragged back to the guard’s corpse.

But not anymore, you affirmed silently. Not anymore.

With a single, disdainful sniff, you stepped over the guard’s lifeless body, leaving his shredded flesh to drown within the puddle he’d bled.

You made for the room’s exit, and behind you, the pot of brewed coffee let out a shrill whistle.

ミ☬彡

In the holding room, you were leaned against the tank that currently hosted Ben’s sleeping form. The steel was warm against your back as it whirred with all the mechanisms trapping him in a steady sleep, and you had to shift a couple of times to prevent the burning of your skin. The heat soothed your goosebumps, but did little to settle the nagging anxiety within.

An hour had passed. More like twenty rough minutes—but it had felt like ages since you’d left that guard’s body in the common room and made a hasty beeline for this hold. It was already moon-high—most of the employees would have long since called it a day and gone home. So the chances of the guard’s body being discovered at this time were low—you knew this. Yet you kept waiting for that door to come toppling down, armed forces streaming in to beat you onto your knees and make you a live experiment alongside Ben. If you’d survive their outrage to begin with.

Besides you, the only other souls currently roaming the property were all banished to the outskirts, doing perimeter checks and walking tedious lines to ensure nobody would be getting in—or out of this compound. No employee had the reason or desire to stay in the building past closing time, so there was no need for the guards to do a last sweep within before setting up the nighttime perimeter.

Fatal flaw, in your humble, biased opinion.

But your eyes had been glued to that entrance for so long that you could still see the door carved into the darkness behind your lids every time you blinked. Your arms were crossed against your chest as you waited, as if to cradle your unsteady heartbeat, while your index finger ticked away busily at your bicep.

Shortly after arriving here, you’d taken a second to tend to and bandage the hand you’d unintentionally bled raw during your fit. Your palm still ached with the memory of your furious grip, but you tightened your hold on your arm in the desperate attempt to numb the area into painless submission. It didn’t budge.

Eventually, you found it in yourself to tear your gaze away from the door, your head buckling to take in the view of the floor. You caught a glimpse of the blood stain in your shirt. Almost as if that had reminded your body to pay you the repercussions for overexerting your abilities, you felt a light trial of blood trickle from your nose. Your bandaged hand flew up to catch the red droplets, and you held your fist against your nostrils for a few seconds to absorb the rest of the clot.

You gave a hard exhale through your lips, your patience wearing thin with both your weakened body and the anticipative wait. You dropped your hand back to your side, still feeling the faint, sticky glaze of blood within your nostrils. But you ignored it, almost hoping your body would grow bored with punishing you and ease off for a while—just until The Boys broke you and Ben out of here.

You had no idea when they would arrive. The initial phone call that had started this entire ordeal hadn’t exactly been detailed—it was more of a quick in and out—instructions first, questions later call. And oh, the ambiguity of the plan drove you insane.

On the other side of the room, you heard the scrabble of Jamie’s nails against his glass enclosure. That wretched hamster had seen better days. You figured he was the sort of pet Ben could get along with—if their shared trauma of being experimented on was reason enough to bond.

Suddenly, a heavy clank sounded against the door of the main entrance, which instantly plucked you from your thoughts and had you drawn into a defensive position before you could process the entire situation. Another loud clunk rattled the steel, then another. It sounded like the adrenaline currently pumping your heart to an all time high.

Whoever was behind that door didn’t sound passive. Your paranoia got the best of you as you imagined Russians guards waiting to storm the room. Had somebody found the guard’s murdered body and alerted the nighttime patrol? You knew you should have done a last sweep of the compound before hightailing it toward the hold—perhaps you’d missed an employee, and now you’d have to pay for leaving a loose end uncut.

The door finally relented with one last thud, and it gave a low, trembling creak as it slowly descended to the floor—the scene so cinematically dramatic. It landed with a deafening clunk, a dust cloud exploding to conceal the doorway. You waited tensely, expecting to see the Russians stream through with defences ablaze at any second.

So, this is it, you ridiculed silently. This is how I go out. A bitter smile spread your lips. What had all these years—all the suffering been for, if not to pave way for a happy ending? Did you and Ben not deserve it, after everything?

Tsk. Fate, thou art a heartless bitch.

But the first man to step through the haze was tall and heavyset with dark, messy hair and a thick beard—but most importantly, lacking a guard’s uniform entirely. The sight laid your internal monologue to rest. You wouldn’t be dying today.

The newcomer narrowed his eyes and did a scan of the room. When they landed on you, a devilish smirk hitched up the corner of his mouth.

“Well,” he called out in a thick, English accent—the same one that had driven you crazy through the digital line. He took a dramatic step past the collapsed door, his shoulders rocking side to side before stilling to face you. “‘Ello there, Love. Fancy finally meetin’ yer in the flesh.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you spat out, all the breath you’d been hoarding in anticipation channeled into that single sentence. “Ever heard of a fucking knock?” Your tone was hostile, but your hands fell to your side with relief, your heart rate beginning to settle into a steadier rhythm.

The dark-haired man glanced around him with calculation—likely scanning for any hidden traps or accomplices, then popped a glance to where the door laid needlessly discarded onto the floor. He turned back to you with a done deal grin, hands spreading in an innocent gesture.

“Sorry ‘bout tha’, Love,” he chuckled, that charming smirk becoming far too comfortable on his rough features. “But it do make for one diabolical entrance, done it? And The Boys don’t deserve nuffin’ less.”

As if that did the trick in summoning the rest of the group, more figures slunk through the door to take up formation behind the Brit—a dark-skinned man with distrust woven into his features as he glared you down, a tall, scrawny, kid that looked as jittery as a hostage, an Asian girl that glanced about the room with interest, and a fair-skinned man with what looked like a mullet in bad taste.

The Brit tossed a nod in your direction. “We haven’t formally met. Name’s Butcher,” he said, strolling further into the room to make better acquaintance.

You trailed closer to meet him halfway, coming to stand perfectly in front of Ben’s sleeping tank—as if to shield his helpless form from any potential danger. You were met with the Brit’s outstretched hand, and you glanced down at it with a brief narrowing of your eyes before your attention flickered back up to him.

“It don’t bite, Love—promise,” he jabbed.

You flashed him a wry smile, but you were still hesitant as you slipped your bandaged palm into his. He held you firmly to deliver a polite shake, and you were ready to slink away from his hold when he trapped you in his grasp with a curious study of your palm.

“Blimey, did yer give a knife a good ol’ wank?” He huffed.

With a light scoff, you curbed his prying nose and offered him your name, to which the Brit grinned in a manner that felt forced.

“Lovely name yer’ve got there.” He released your hand and pivoted on his heels to address the rest of the group. “Right, you lot, we don’t got a lotta time. Them red cunts out there know we’re in ‘ere, and they’re gonna come lookin’ for us with ten rounds o’ fuck yer stuck up them fuckin’ guns. So keep yer wits about yer, and keep off each other’s throats, all righ’?”

Your attention drifted to where the Asian girl turned to Butcher, her hands lifting to portray a series of symbols that you could recognise as sign language, but the words were lost on your uneducated eyes. The fair-skinned man beside her turned to face her.

“Don’t worry, Mon Coeur, we can handle them,” he reassured her—a distinct, smooth slur to his words.

French, you noted with a hint of surprise. What an interesting group of people.

“Uh, guys,” the scrawny boy spoke up. You caught a hint of alarm on his features before he turned away to face the door. “I think more guards are on their way.” You strained your ears and heard the faint commotion of Russian phrases and thudding boots in the distance.

“Great,” the dark-skinned man commented sarcastically, head swinging over to face the French. “Ya just had to go and say that, didn’t ya, Frenchie? Should’ve touched wood, man—now we’ve got the whole fuckin’ armed guard about to come down on our asses.”

Who the fuck came up with the name Frenchie? You thought with a scoff. If it was a given nickname within the group, there was a severe lack of creativity amongst their ranks.

Frenchie looked confronted at the man’s attack. “I didn’t do anything! Blame Butcher for frying le whole fucking grid and sending his fist directly into the guard’s face!”

“Oi!” Butcher interjected, taking a step toward the bickering men. “I didn’t see yer lift yer bloody finger to help, now, did’cha? And it don’t matter now. So lay off the fuckin’ tiff, boaf o’ ya, and brave yer bollocks f’a righ’ burnin’.”

You couldn’t help but smirk lightly at the group’s dynamic. One thing was certain—with them, there was never a dull moment.

You could hardly acknowledge that thought for a second longer before armed guards were rallied at the door, causing The Boys to pivot toward the entrance in alarm. Gun were pointed into the room before bullets began flying in scattered chaos.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell! Take cover!” Butcher yelled, and The Boys all scattered to various ends of the room to avoid the rapid fire.

You attempted to do the same, when time seemed to slow at the prospect of a bullet heading directly for you. Your breath roared in your ears, muffling all the sounds around you into a single, shrill ring as you lifted your hand into the air out of instinct. With a single twist of your fingers, the bullet making a direct line for your face curved through the air, and it deviated from its path to strike glass some ways behind you.

You let slip a relieved, breathless chuckle, but didn’t waste another second as an easy target out in the open as you scampered to hide behind Ben’s sleeping tank. You pressed your back against the tank, your head collapsing against the metal with a wide grin.

You hadn’t pulled off that trick for quite some time—and it was bold to assume that it would’ve worked when your body was severely out of practice. Guess the Supe in you never leaves, does it? You remarked with silent appreciation.

But still, you cursed your unpreparedness. For all the things you’d remembered to pack, a gun had somehow slipped your mind entirely. Having powers was good and all, but the ability to withstand gunfire was beyond your biological pay grade, and without your long lost Supe uniform, you were as vulnerable as any other human in this room.

Something small levitated into the air ahead of you, drawing your attention into a bewildered stare. Jamie, the hamster, gravitated through the air, whisking directly past you and into the chaotic storm of bullets. You had a good guess of where the bullet you’d redirected had gone.

“It fucking flies?” You scoffed in amazement.

You heard a guttural scream followed by a string of Russian pleas, and you guessed that the hamster had his own personal vendetta to fulfil. That makes two of us.

You heard The Boys calling to one another as they came to terms with their depleted bullets, but the Russians were still keenly at it, the shots bounding off the walls of the room until it sounded like a drawn out melody of war and sure death. You risked a glance past the tank, outstretching your hand to drain the lungs of one of the Russians raining hell on where Butcher and the scrawny kid took cover.

The Russian seized on the spot, hand flying to clutch his chest before he collapsed to the ground and didn’t stir again. Butcher caught that stunt with an impressed glint to his eye, his chin dipping in the slightest gesture of approval. You returned it with a smug grin, but what came next whisked the amusement clean from your lips.

The Brit discarded his emptied gun, stepping into the clearing with a loud-ringing “evenin’, cunts,” and then you witnessed his eyes ignite with a red, bustling flame. He strolled into the open fire, the bullets bounding off his skin like they’d never stood a chance in the first place. And then you saw it—beams of molten lava searing through the air to decapitate any and all bodies caught in its destructive path.

The Brit’s head panned around the room to exterminate the Russians one by one, until nothing but silence filled the room, and the unpleasant scent of scorched flesh bombarded your nose. You slowly rose to full height, stepping out into the clearing just in time to witness Butcher’s red eyes simmer into their normal dark shade. He glanced about his companions in waiting—for what, you had no concrete idea, but you could guess that the rest of the Boys were as shocked as you.

You glanced around at the rest of their faces to gauge the group’s reaction. The scrawny boy appeared behind Butcher with a look of amazement and admiration bright on his features—stupid fool would likely get himself killed gawking after that reckless Brit. You glanced over at the dark-skinned man, who looked furious as he glared down the leader of The Boys. Frenchie, and the Asian girl attached at his hip, exchanged puzzled glances that quickly turned curious once they glanced between Butcher and the dark-skinned man.

There was definitely some unspoken tension lingering between those two men—some ongoing war for leadership. But before either of them had a chance to speak, the scrawny boy let out a yell.

“M.M.—behind you!”

The dark-skinned man spun around, and your attention flitted to where a Russian guard had snuck up onto him with his gun armed and ready for attack.

He’s not going to make it, you thought with a jolt. Instinctually, your hand whisked into the air, and a second later, the guard staggered in place to paw at his chest—some pathetic attempt to remove his gear and undo his gradual smothering. But before you could sign off on the murder, the scrawny boy appeared behind the Russian with his fist impaled through the guard’s chest.

You had to blink twice to solidify that scene—the boy was naked, and he’d been on the other end of the room, fully clothed, only a second ago.

“What in the fuck is going on?” You muttered, hand falling back to your side. The Russian guard, now void of a heart, mimicked the gesture as he planted onto the floor, his gun clattering to the ground beside him. You squinted at the naked boy—first Butcher, and now him. Just what crackhead group of Supes had you gotten tied up with?

The scrawny boy glanced down at his bloodied hand in a fit of ragged breaths, his expression a mixture of confusion and amazement, as if he couldn’t believe he’d just done that. You wondered whether his reaction was toward his power, or the murder—though he didn’t seem like the type that went around killing often, or at all, and he sure as hell didn’t look like somebody who enjoyed it.

“Jesus!” The man—M.M.—breathed out, hand lifting to cradle his head in denial, acceptance, and then defeat. “I can’t—I just can’t,” he muttered, turning away from the scene to take a heated second for himself.

You left the tank’s side to approach Butcher, and the Brit spun to face you with a smirk—always that damn smirk.

“Well, tha’s a nifty li’l power yer’ve got there, innit?” He praised in something akin to admiration.

You couldn’t return the sentiment. “You’re a Supe?” You exclaimed. “You didn’t think to mention that when we first spoke?”

The Brit beamed with some emotion beyond you. “Tha’s the best part, Love,” he said, head tilting in exhilaration. “I ain’t no bleedin’ Supe. I’ve had me a good hit of Temp V, is all—it gives me the wankin’ wonders o’ Supe powers without all the stinkin’ cameras and promos stuck up me arse.”

“Yeah,” M.M. spoke up in a tone lacking amusement, turning to face the group once he’d blown off enough steam—but honestly, he only looked more peeved. “And it’s only killing you, ya stupid motherfucker.”

Butcher flashed him an unfazed glance. “Well, we’re all slowly dying, ain’t we, M.M.?”

The dark-skinned man crossed his arms in what looked like disappointment. “Yeah, but you just had to go and take the fuckin’ crown on that one, didn’t ya? Goddammnit, Butcher, I can’t with you.”

“Then don’t, mate, ain’t yer concern,” the Brit replied simply, then turned his attention to the scrawny boy with a proud grin. “Nice one, Hughie—laid one on tha’ wanker in a heartbeat.” His head lowered to where the guard’s heart lay on the ground, and he beamed a little too hard at his pun.

Hughie seemed flustered at the compliment, but cleared his throat self-consciously when M.M. flashed him a glare.

“Put some damn clothes on,” the dark-skinned man scoffed. “I don’t needa see any more ass today.”

Frenchie crept up behind Hughie holding the outfit the boy had discarded in the wake of his teleportation. “Here, Petit Hughie,” he said through an amused grin.

“Ah, thanks, Frenchie,” he chuckled awkwardly before accepting the uniform and turning away to become decent.

Turning to face you, Butcher gave a nod. “Right, then, why don’tcha show us the way, Love? We’ll get yer nuclear heartthrob outta this place in no time.”

You harboured an eye roll before beckoning curtly over your shoulder. “He’s in there.” You stepped aside to give the Brit a full view of the sleeping tank.

Butcher’s expression turned solemn as he brushed past you to inspect the container. “What the fuck,” he drawled. “They’ve got ‘im wrapped up tighter than a priest’s chaste cock.” Your brows furrowed at his acquired taste for humour—but in that way, he and Ben were quite alike. “How do we open this fuckin’ thing?” He asked distractedly, moving around the frame to inspect the reinforced locks.

“Good question,” you told him, watching him from the same position as you crossed your arms in frustration. “If I had any idea, you wouldn’t be here. They’ve got that tank reinforced like hell—I’ve tried everything to get it open. It’s useless.”

The Brit tossed you an incoherent glance over his shoulder, then tuned his focus back to the tank. “Well, let us have a go, then.”

You cocked your head in smug doubt, watching as the Brit wrapped his large palms around the rim of the tank’s door. Who does he think he is? You scorned silently. He released a loud growl, the muscles of his upper body flexing with strained effort. He kept up the exertion for a good few seconds, and you left out a light huff through your nostrils to confirm what you’d known all along—there was no way that he was getting that door open with his two bare hands.

Almost as though Butcher could heed your thoughts, he amped up his efforts with a growing yell, and to your amazement, the door began to budge with a heavy creak. You watched with subtle awe as the Brit managed to successfully detach the door, his study frame collapsing back slightly as he hovered the metal in his grasp. It was insane to think that his abilities were all thanks to that Temp V substance, but you could only imaging the tolling effects that it had on his body. Hell, you’d been receiving V since you were born, and even you had moments where your body became worn by your abilities.

Butcher turned with the door, scanning an area to discard it toward before he settled for a corner that was far too close to the Asian girl’s loitering figure. When the door landed with a dull thud, the Brit turned to face the tank—you all did.

You took a few steps closer, coming to stand beside Butcher as you watched smoke pour out the hold and cascade around your feet. The Brit outstretched his hand to keep you back, which made you glance at him with a mixture of confusion and surprise.

“He’s not dangerous,” you told him, but you were quick to catch yourself with a frown when you remembered all the instances Ben had woken up in a confused state—and the time he’d hurt you because of it.

“Yeah? Well, tell that to yer face,” Butcher answered gruffly, wholly unconvinced by your faltering advocation.

You bit on your tongue and nudged the Brit’s hand away, but nonetheless, you didn’t move any closer. Butcher flashed you a sidelong glance but didn’t say anything further. You noted how Frenchie and the girl had inched their way nearer to where you stood, just as eager to witness the man that had been an expired legend up until now.

When the smoke started to clear, you could make out the outline of Ben’s figure, stood upright and strapped to a contraption that would hold him in place during his coma. His eyes were still closed, an oxygen mask strapped around his face. Your heart ached at the sight—it was demeaning, him tied down against his will, completely bare and stashed away in some dusty basement to be forgotten until he was needed again.

Never again.

Just then, Ben began to stir, his eyes opening slowly as he drifted back into the waiting world. The arms at his sides flexed with what strength he could muster, and it was still enough to tear through the fabricated restraints around his wrists. His eyes blinked many times as he stared ahead into the newfound opening, but not at anything, or anyone, in particular. He lifted a jittery hand to pry the mask from his face, his hand lowering to his side and dropping it into the smoky oblivion below.

Beside you, you heard a disbelieved murmur leave Butcher’s lips. “Soldier Boy. . .” He breathed.

As if that was all the beckon he needed, Ben’s hands gripped at the rim of his tank, nose scrunched and teeth gritted as he tried to haul together the effort to pull himself from his personal prison.

You instantly dove forward to help him, but Butcher’s arm found yours in restraint once more, pushing you a step back as he turned to face you.

“Stay back, Love. He’s got a fuck-sight o’ that nasty gas pumpin’ through ‘is veins. I mean, have a shufti o’ tha’ cunt—he don’t even know where the ‘ell he is. Yer don’t wanna piss about a timebomb like tha’, trust me.”

“He’s not a bomb,” you answered in frustration. “He’s just confused. You’d be the exact same if somebody fucked with your brain the way these comas fuck with his.”

“I ain’t baggin’ on yer boy, Love, just tryna prevent unnecessary casualties. Don’t need yer blood on me hands.”

Before you could reply, Ben’s frail voice called out your name.

Your heart lurched at the sound, your head swivelling to neglect Butcher and the anger he was starting to evoke. Your boyfriend was leaned halfway out of the tank now, his brows still kneaded together with disorientation as he battled to keep his attention pinpointed on you. You pushed past Butcher’s arm and rushed to catch Ben as he staggered out of the tank, his one hand finding your shoulder for support while his other reached back to steady himself against the metal.

“You’re okay,” you murmured, hands coming up to gently frame his bearded jaw as your lips spread with a smile of relief. He remembered you—no temporary amnesia this time, no forgotten memories, no further pain to endure. “I’m right here, Ben.”

The Supe blinked rapidly, his chin lifting a fraction as his red and teary eyes did a hasty sweep of the surrounding members of The Boys. You called his attention back to you, stroking a thumb along his cheek.

“Hey, don’t worry about them. It’s the group we talked about. . . The Boys. They got you out of that tank, and we’re about to get the hell out of this place,” you comforted him softly.

Ben’s eyes found yours again, but they were glossed over and narrowed, as though your words were incomprehensible to him. His attention dropped to the bloodstain on your shirt, then shifted to the bloodied bandage wrapped around the palm that cradled his cheek.

The hand he’d placed against the tank moved to cover your bandaged palm, and you felt the way he trembled against you. “You’re. . . bleeding,” he pushed out between staggered breaths.

You gave him a weak smile. “I’m fine,” you assured him. “Trust me, you look worse than me, so worry about yourself, first.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but then his eyes screwed shut and his teeth grit around a muffled grunt, the hands he’d placed on you flying to clutch at his chest.

You held his buckling head firmly between your hands, craning yourself in an attempt to get a view of his face. “Ben?” You called to him worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

There was no reply, only pained grunting as he continued to claw at his chest. When your eyes lowered to his torso, you were horrified to find that his flesh had begun to illuminate from within. Slowly, an orange light began to bloom at the centre, painting every organ, vein and artery in clear, dark definition against his translucent skin. You felt a surge of heat begin to radiate from him, enough to burn your arms into releasing his face and assault your eyes into a tight squint.

“Ben, what the hell is going on?” You called in panic, arm coming up to shield your teary eyes.

The Supe grunted in pain, his palm moving clumsily to shove you back at the chest. You staggered back a step, nearly losing your footing until you felt a large hand steady you at the back.

Butcher appeared over your shoulder. “Blimey, tha’ cunt’s ‘bout to blow,” he remarked roughly.

“What?” You replied with a quiver in your voice. You dropped your arm and blinked rapidly to focus your burning eyes back onto Ben. You spotted him struggling away from the tank—away from you—travelling a blind line that drew all the way to a wide-eyed Frenchie.

The French stood backed into a corner, gun slowly raising to act as a pitiful means of defence against the Supe’s disconcerting approach.

“Easy now,” Frenchie attempted to calm Ben, opting to lay off the threatening gun as his hands lifted in surrender. “We are all friends, no?” He laughed nervously, eyes flickering past the Supe to fix you with a pleading expression.

You returned Frenchie’s look with helpless panic. Quite frankly, you had no idea what was going through Ben’s mind as of now, or just what on earth was brewing inside his chest, but you had a gnawing feeling that somebody in this room might not live to find out.

You made the move to approach your boyfriend, eager to stop Ben and disprove that nagging voice in your head, but Butcher found your wrist in a tight, relentless grasp this time around—and it only continued to tighten as a show that he didn’t intend to let you go this time.

“No fuckin’ way,” he said before you had a chance to protest. “If yer boy over there pulls the plug on ‘is night lamp of a chest, boaf you and Frenchie will get yerselves killed. If Soldier Boy lives to see another miserable day, I’ll be needing yer to help us figure out just what the hell them Russian cunts put in ‘im.”

You gave Butcher a long stare, your chest nagged by some feeling that seemed to resonate with the Brit’s words. You knew exactly what had been pumped into Ben. And with that knowledge, you might be able to figure out this new power of his and help The Boys keep him under control. But was the Brit really willing to let Frenchie die for the sake of it?

Turning back to the scene, you watched as Ben’s head buckled again, pained shouts leaving his lips as he fought to control the ever-growing light within. At some point, he began to beam so bright that you couldn’t stare at him any longer without feeling as though your vision would terminate on the spot, so you turned your head away.

And then you heard it—Frenchie letting out a yell, and a loud explosion that sent something flying into a wall. Hesitantly, your eyes drifted open, where you witnessed Butcher’s hands pressed against his ears with a twisted expression. Behind him, Hughie and M.M. did the same, their faces mortified.

Your breathing came out ragged—loud and harsh in your ears as they adjusted to the normal air after what sounded like a deafening, sonic boom. Turning your head slowly, you saw Ben hunched in on himself, his body returned to its normal colour—void of all deathly glow. You wanted to feel a surge of relief, knowing that he was okay, but then your eyes drifted ahead of him to where a figure lay motionless upon the ground.

The Asian girl was sprawled across the floor, blood seeping from wounds along her torso, so dire that you could make out the cuts even from where you stood. The stone wall just behind her was cracked with what must’ve been the impact of her hurled body, and the sight brewed fresh dread in your heart.

No, you breathed silently, your eyes growing hot with horror. Suddenly, the words you’d told Butcher only moments ago came around again, a voice that taunted you into guilt. He’s not a bomb. He’s not a bomb.

And yet he’d just blown up and injured—possibly killed—one of the group members—people who had risked quite a lot to save the both of you. Your hand came up to cover your mouth in a state of shock and remorse, and for a moment, you couldn’t do anything but stand in a fit of paralysis.

Frenchie scrambled up from the other end of the floor and sped over to collapse at the girl’s body, hands frantically searching her neck for a pulse. He settled on a point and hovered his fingers there for many seconds, and you held your breath in anticipation as you waited for him to confirm her life, or death.

To your relief, he let out a jittery sigh. “She lives!” He declared into the room. “Mon Coeur,” he called more softly, a hand moving to turn her face toward his, but her lids remained heavily clamped, and even her lower lip dropped open in her unconscious state.

“Bloody ‘ell,” Butcher breathed from behind you, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just witnessed.

You hurried over to where Ben still stood, crouched over and consumed in a haze of overwhelming emotions that you couldn’t possibly begin to comprehend. You slowed a little ways before him, your hand cautious as you reached to gently cup his back. You were unsure at this point of what potential triggers may set him off.

When you made with the skin of his back, he gave a slight flinch, but he turned his head a fraction to drink in who’d touched him. When he saw it was you, his face briefly softened with a quiet regret that made your heart ache—an almost unspoken apology for the mess he’d made. You took up a firmer grip on his back, urging him to move toward the wall for better support against his weakness.

“Come on, just take a moment,” you urged, and he relaxed into your gentle guidance as you moved the both of you toward the wall. You tried your best not to glance at the girl’s unconscious body, but Ben wasn’t so merciful in sparing himself the guilt as he risked a glance toward her body, and held her motionless body in his view all the way until you’d reached the wall.

“You can’t blame yourself for that,” you told him in an almost whisper. Because it’s my fault. I gave you those powers when I gave you your last dose. You wanted to tell him that, but you choked up on the guilt, and it would do little to comfort what had already happened. So instead, you settled for, “you had no control over it. The important thing is that the girl’s alive, okay? You didn’t kill her.”

You didn’t know that for certain. So much could happen between now and the trip to the hospital. Ben spared you a dark glance that reflected your thoughts. You reached to cup his cheek, but he turned away from you to face the wall, his hands coming up to steady himself against the stone. Your hand fell back to your side as you let out a soft exhale.

“I’m going to figure out what’s going on with you,” you told him. “But just stay here for now, I need to talk to Butcher and the others, okay?” You weren’t entirely sure that you had Ben’s ear, but he was too stunned to go anywhere for the time-being, so you felt confident enough to leave him alone to talk to the others.

“Not a bomb, eh?” The Brit scoffed once you reached him. “Well, Love, it don’t sound like yer know yer man as well as yer think ya do, d’ya?”

“Give me a break,” you retorted, coming to a complete stop in front of the dark-haired man. “This. . . power of his isn’t anything I’ve seen before. If I knew he could do that, I would’ve told you, and we could’ve found a way to keep the lid on and prevent anybody from getting hurt.”

“What, like he wasn’t already a murderer before this very instance?” M.M. spoke up from where he stood, idling beside a bewildered Hughie.

You flashed the dark-skinned man a glare. “He didn’t mean to do it,” you said more firmly.

M.M. had this biting fire to his eyes, his upper lip twitching with a barely perceptible emotion. “Didn’t mean to do what, exactly?” He drilled. “Kill all those innocent people back in the day, or almost killing an innocent girl right now?”

“M.M.,” Butcher called to his friend, a light undertone of warning. “Don’t, mate.”

M.M.’s head swivelled toward the Brit. “Don’t you give me that fuckin’ ‘mate’ shit, Butcher. I wanna hear it from her—I wanna know if she’s really okay with all the shit that that motherfucker has done!” He turned to glare at you, causing your heart to lurch. Clearly, he had some hefty history behind his anger.

“We don’t got time for this,” Butcher attempted to interject, but M.M. stopped acknowledging the Brit, his tense shoulders rising and falling around some greater restraint on his part as he glared between you and Ben.

Your lips were hellbent on a clueless silence. You didn’t know what personal wrongs Ben had dealt M.M., but you knew that your boyfriend had a stained past. Truth is, you had no way to ever justify what Ben had done back in the day. And judging by how deep M.M.’s dislike and distrust for him ran, you figured that the Supe must’ve done something unforgivable.

Ben was far from perfect, you knew that. He had questionable morales, some that you’d never learnt to swallow even after all these years you’d been together. But you’d been trying to help him abandon those problematic viewpoints, and he’d been getting there slowly before Vought and the rest of Payback had gotten him kidnapped and rehomed into a tank.

“Nothin’ to say, huh?” M.M. mocked lowly, his lips twitching with disgust. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Cause ya just can’t justify a prick like that.”

“Hey, guys. . .” the naked boy—Hughie—spoke up, his anxious stare shifting between M.M., Butcher and you. “I hate to interrupt. . . whatever this is, but we’ve got to get out of here. What if more guards show up?” It was beyond you how somebody as scrawny and young-looking as him had met the criteria of such a raggedy tag group of misfits lead by the world’s number one British asshole, but he was right to be worried.

In the distance, you heard the thin, angry shouts. You didn’t want to stick around long enough to hear what they were saying.

You glanced over your shoulder to where Frenchie still hovered over the injured girl, her body half scorched and basted in the blood trickling from her abdomen. Your heart ached at the sight, and then your gaze slipped over to where Ben braced himself against the wall in a heaving mess of disorientation.

Oh, things were so fucked.

“She needs a hospital,” the French slurred, hands frantically whisking across the girl’s body. His eyes were a desperate plea as they fixated Butcher, then his head collapsed to where he took the girl’s unconscious head into his hands. “Hang in there, Mon Coeur, we will not let you die, you hear me?”

You turned back to Butcher. He was the head of this entire operation, so you waited tensely for him to hurl out some sort of command, a plan of action—anything. The commotion surrounding the room grew louder, which made the Brit glance at the entrance they’d barged through.

“We gotta get the fuck outta ‘ere,” Butcher grumbled. He jerked his chin at the Hughie. “Hughie, help Frenchie with Kimiko, we ain’t stayin’ ‘round ‘ere any longer than we got to. I don’t much fancy playin’ a round o’ Russian Roulette with those trigger-happy red cunts—and right now, they got a ragin’ boner for the lot o’ us.”

Hughie scampered past to heed Butcher’s orders, but not without risking you an uneasy glance. He disappeared from your view as he slipped past you to conspire with Frenchie in getting Kimiko to the car.

“You two, back o’ the van,” the Brit told you, calling your attention back to him. The furrow of his frown ran deep as he took a step closer to glare you down. “And yer best keep America’s Ancient Arsehole from gettin’ all hot and bothered in me ride, or we’re all as good as fucked, ‘ear that?”

Before you had the chance to return Butcher’s scorn, you were interrupted by a protest that sounded most displeased.

“Uh uh,” M.M.’s voice rang out clearly, causing both yourself and Butcher to turn to him. He loomed tensely, eyes darkened and features modelling a look of heartfelt disgust as he glanced between you and Ben. “No way in hell—I ain’t climbin’ into the same car as that motherfucker,” he declared with an accusing index figure in Ben’s direction, his hard stare further isolating your boyfriend before he turned his attention back to Butcher. “They gotta find their own way—meet us somewhere we can recoup and plan out this fuckin’ stinkin’ pile of shit you got us into, Butcher.”

“M.M.,” Butcher groused, taking a step toward his companion. “We don’t got time for this, mate. We came ‘ere to do a job, and we gotta do it quick. Yer don’t gotta hold ‘ands wif the cunt, yer just gotta brave face until we get clear o’ this shitshow, all righ’?”

But M.M. looked unconvinced, the distrust in his stare not once relenting as he did another sweep of you and Ben. His chin lifted slowly—a bold notion of defiance as he glared Butcher down.

“Nah,” he said lowly, arms brought forward to cross over his chest. “Not happenin’, Butcher.”

“Oh, f’fuck’s sakes,” the Brit grumbled, hand brought up to his jaw to stroke across his beard with exasperation as he attempted to negotiate with his companion.

Just by observing the dynamic between the two of them, you could tell that they bickered like this far too often. Two alpha males, constantly clashing horns as they fought to uphold their own glaring sense of right and wrong. But there was no time to stand back and bathe in the ricocheting argument, so you intercepted their bickering with a hint of impatience.

“It’s all right,” you steadied with outstretched hands, which made both Butcher and M.M turned to look at you. “I’ll find Ben and I another way out. I know a route, and I know where to get a ride. You just focus on getting the girl to the hospital, and we’ll lay low somewhere until you tell us the next move.”

Without waiting for input from the two of them, you turned and scampered off to the bag you’d left at the foot of Ben’s tank. You passed a glance at Ben, who still stood leant against the wall, head hanging low in oblivion. You doubted he’d caught a fraction of the ongoing conversation.

“Like ‘ell yer are,” Butcher called to you. “I’d be a daft wanker to let the two o’ ya off me fuckin’ leash, now, wouldn’t I?”

“Seems right on par with the asshole of the year award you’ve made runner up for,” you mumbled under your breath before reaching the bag and bending down to unzip it. “Listen, it’s not like we’ve got many options when your friend over there has made his feelings about us clear. I’m just trying to get Ben and I out of here in one piece,” you added more loudly.

“All right,” the Brit reasoned. “Say I let the two o’ ya slip away, hand in hand, how do yer s’pose we find yer again? Trackin’ yer down to this fortified safe already cost us some hefty shite—and it’ll be a li’l difficult keepin’ a lead on yer this time ‘round when yer’ve only disappeared into the whole o’ bleedin’ Russia!”

“Hold that thought,” you called back, hand rummaging through your loaded supply bag. Your fingers clattered against the burner phones you’d packed in case you and Ben got separated, and you pulled one of them out. You weren’t so eager to hand off the only thing serving as a backup should the two of you run into trouble, but you had very little luxury of choice right now.

Turning back to Butcher, you made you way back over to the ruffled Brit, hand outstretched to offer him the phone. “Call the number saved on there, I’ve got another in the bag. Once we’re all in the clear, we’ll meet you wherever it is you need us to be.” The Brit fixed you with a distrustful stare before snatching it from your presented palm.

You’re fucking welcome, you thought irritably. You pivoted on your heels in an attempt to retrieve your backpack and get both yourself and Ben the hell out of here, but Butcher’s hand found your arm in a firm grip before you could manage to slip away.

“Oi!” You were forcibly spun around to face the towering Brit, who torqued his chin at you with far too much attitude for your liking. “How do I know tha’ you and Chernobyl’s li’l arsehole ain’t gonna do a runner into the fuckin’ sunset for good now that we’ve freed the boaf o’ ya? I can’t trust cha.”

Your scowled at his lack of charm, yanking your hand free of his throttling grasp to take a step back. “We may be strangers—and you may be the finest pick of the asshole litter, but we made a deal, and I always honour my word. You can count on that, or you can suckle on paranoia’s tit while we wait for the backup guards to gun us down. Your choice.”

Butcher seemed briefly surprised by your mouth, if his hitched brows was any indication. But he was quick to morph back into his signature frown, lips parting with what could’ve been an attempt to further pick at the scab of distrust. Thankfully, M.M.’s voice interrupted on cue.

“Butcher, we gotta go!” He called, back turning on you both as he raised his gun to assault a Russian guard that had slipped into the doorframe.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, these cunts are relentless,” Butcher muttered in exasperation as he took in the new company. He faced you with a displeased expression, dispelling a defeated sigh before he cocked his head in the slightest gesture that bid your official release.

You gave him a small, curt nod, and without wasting another second, you slipped away to grab your bag and hurried over to where Ben’s figure remained propped against the wall, bare back presented to you in a heaving, sweaty mess. You reached to place a gentle hand on his shoulder, which caused him to flinch away and spin around in full-blown defence mode, but he quickly relaxed as he drank you in.

“Hey, we’ve got to go,” you cooed gently, reaffirming your hold on his arm as you encouraged him to drape it along your neck. Ben succumbed to your guidance and partially leaned himself onto the side of your frame, and you tried your best to accommodate his large stature by securing your other arm around his waist.

“I got you,” you murmured against his jaw, but you could tell that it was lost to the hurricane of disorientation that currently circled his head and rendered his responses naught. As of now, he was surviving off of nothing but the familiarity of your presence.

Behind you, wind buffeted the back of your neck as Hughie glided past, and then there was the distinct, sharp whisk through the air that indicated he’d teleported to some other corner of the room—judging by the guttural scream that followed shortly after, likely directly into the chest of one of the guards. But you had no time to glance back to confirm that thought, not that you’d much like to see Hughie’s naked form again, anyway.

Together, you and Ben began to hobble through one of the back entrance’s. You entered into the winding corridor, whose overhead lights flickered menacingly. It created an eerie atmosphere that matched the theme of this entire compound, and it fed into the flight instinct that kept your feet moving.

When you’d first made contact with The Boys—about a week ago—you’d begun mapping out the best route possible for the group to infiltrate the facility. As a contingency plan, you’d also noted the route yourself and Ben currently ploughed through, just in case there’d been a kink in the plan. For once, you were thankful for your tendency to overthink.

After what felt like an endless straight line, you turned the corner of the corridor, Ben’s steps faltering with the change in direction. Your balance dipped the slightest bit as you scrambled to steady him in your hold.

“All good?” You checked in.

“Fine,” Ben pushed out with a grunt, his head still lolled over as he tried to focus his attention on the ground. “Keep on movin’.”

You breathed a light okay and kept on the prowl. Up ahead, you spotted a janitorial closet tucked into the corner bordering the designated exit you’d mapped out. You hastily steered him toward the door.

“In there,” you instructed, releasing the hand he had draped along your shoulders to twist the doorknob and push the door open. It gave way with an animated creak, and you hurried the both of you inside, guiding the Supe deeper into the dim, narrow space.

He slipped his hand from your shoulders to grab one of the cluttered shelves for support, and once you were certain he was steady enough to support his faltering frame, you turned to close the door behind you. You stole a quick glance out the small, dusty window centred in the janitorial door, feeling a slither of relief when no armed soldiers seemed to round the corner in pursuit of you.

“What’s. . . the plan?” Ben breathed out from behind you, his voice rough and thin as he fought off the sleepy haze. Usually, he had time to adjust coming out of the coma, but this time around, he’d been woken in such a flurry state of things that he’d barely been given the time to adapt. And it certainly didn’t help that he had a newfound power of blowing up unprovoked. It had taken a lot out of his sleepy state.

You turned to face your boyfriend, whose nude figure was on full display now as he stood facing you, a little taller, bolder—almost the man you knew him to be. You could have marvelled at the chiselled isles of his abs, and the moisture that furnished his skin and accentuated every curve of his muscles with the light’s faint glare, but this was hardly the time or place to indulge your desires.

With great difficulty, you averted your gaze from his figure as your hand moved to glide the backpack’s strap from your shoulder. “First, let’s get you dressed.”

You plopped it onto the floor at the nose of your boots, then bent down to dig into the crowded space in search of the clothes you’d packed for him. You pulled out a pair of grey sweats and an oversized t-shirt that you’d stolen from one of the guard’s lockers. You hadn’t had much luck in finding underwear, and you weren’t about to go around rummaging through lockers and sniffing pairs to deduce whether or not they were clean.

You straightened up and handed Ben the clothing, whose eyes flickered down to the items with a growing alertness—and unveiled judgement.

“The fuck is this?” He asked, hand gesturing to the sweatpants crowning the folded fabric stash. You knew he was making a point to ridicule what passed as fashion in this day and age. It was pretty much his brand to criticise everything and anything that didn’t fit his very limited ideologies, but there was no time to entertain that now.

“It’s the best I could do, is what,” you retorted, palm diving forward with impatience as you urged him to take the clothes. “Talk shit about it later—in fact, have an entire rant, but right now, you’ve got to put these on so that we can get out of here, unless you’d like to keep on running around naked and flashing the whole of Russia.”

Ben’s eyes lowered down his body as you spoke, then lifted back to your face with an entertained air, his eyebrow lifted smugly. “What, you don’t like the view?” He jested. “Cause I gotta say, it’s the real panty-dropper. The ladies—they just can’t get enough o’ all o’ this.”

When you didn’t entertain what he passed as humour with a response, your expression blank save the impatience, he cleared his throat somewhat self-consciously before hesitantly taking the clothes from your grasp.

Pointing his free finger in your direction, he said, “you’re a doll,” and began slipping the clothes onto his body. You lowered yourself back to the bag to retrieve the socks and sneakers you’d also managed to nick before placing it at his feet.

While you waited for him to get modest—physically, at least, you zipped up the bag and strung it back over your shoulder before rising and turning to peer out the window again. There was a gnawing unease still buzzing at your fingertips and teasing at the steady pace of your heartbeat as you stared off into the corridor, just waiting for any sign of movement. While you stood, you couldn’t help but wonder whether The Boys were managing to hold their own back where you’d left them.

Your thoughts flitted to the injured girl—Kimiko; you hoped that they’d managed to escape and get her to the hospital, and there, you desperately wished that she’d live to see another day. Ben’s outburst was something you’d never seen before, even after all the years the Russian’s had trialed him to see what new powers your modified treatments had brought forward.

You knew that the explosion wasn’t personal, that it was an unfortunate case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But you’d seen the look in M.M.‘s eyes—in all of their eyes. There was so much hatred and fear lingering in their stares, and it told you that The boys had come on this job with a preconceived notion about who you and Ben were. So it wouldn’t matter how much convincing you’d have done to try and plead in both your favours; they’d never trust you.

You didn’t much trust them either, that feeling was mutual, you only hoped that it wouldn’t interfere with the conditions that this plan had been tied to. There was still a job to be done before you and Ben could be free—properly free.

Ben’s finger’s curled around your waist, which jerked you from the whirlwind of thoughts you’d gotten sucked into. You turned to face him, fully clothed this time around, and you had to admit that he looked rather attractive in the casual attire.

“How are you feeling?” You asked. He looked alert in the eyes, his movements stronger and more controlled compared to his earlier erraticism.

“I feel fine, no need to fuss over me like I’m some goddamn spineless pussy,” he brushed off dismissively.

You scoffed lightly. “Forgive me for giving a shit,” you muttered, turning away from him to reach for the door handle. “Come on, we’ve gotta go. We’ve already taken longer than I would’ve liked.” You turned the knob and managed to pull the door slightly ajar. “For all we know, they’ve already got more guards set around the per—”

Before you could finish that mildly frantic sentence, Ben’s hand wrapped around your wrist and yanked it from the doorknob. You’d barely managed a protest before he whirled you around to face him and pulled you against his body, his hand only releasing yours to take up firm grip at your jaw. Instinctively, you shrugged the bag from your shoulder and heard it thump to the ground before your own hands came to rest against his broad chest.

With both hands now bracketing your face, he dove down to press a desperate and warm kiss to your lips. At first, the chafe of his overgrown beard felt foreign, but the way his lips eagerly entangled with yours was all the familiarity you needed to melt into his consumption entirely. His large hands stroked down your neck in perfect rhythm, caressing the slopes of your shoulders all the way down your back, and finally, they settled for a firm hold at your hips.

His thumbs hooked over the front of your pelvis as he pushed you against the door you’d been so eager to slip out of only moments ago, and it clicked into it’s place within the frame with an abrupt thud. You release a stifled moan as he pressed you into the wood, and he greedily swallowed it whole, claiming every aspect of your being with this gluttonous kiss.

Your hands dragged up his chest to frame his neck, where you pushed him away to break off the kiss. His lips were plucked from yours with a palpable click, and his features morphed with a disappointed frown as he leaned back to give you air.

Moving his hand to drag two dramatic fingers over his lips, he gazed at you through those charming eyes of his. “I was just gettin’ started with you, sweetheart,” he said lowly.

Chest slightly heaving, your hands lowered to his waist as you gazed up at him. “As much as I’d love to take this further, we can’t stick around here much longer. This part of the facility isn’t used much, but it’s somewhere they’ll come looking once all the other sectors are cleared.”

“You really did have it all planned out, huh?” He murmured sweetly, eyes flickering back down to your lips in a manner that told you he craved another taste of you. But thankfully, he was quite capable of self-restraint when the stakes were too high. He brought his focus back to your eyes with a cheeky wink before he withdrew from your proximity. “I always did admire that ‘bout you,” he stated before leaning over and swinging his arm forward to scoop up your backpack and lug it over his shoulder. Then, with a nod, he gestured to the door.

“Let’s get a move on, ain’t got all fuckin’ day, right? Besides, I made you a promise back in that lab, and the sooner we can get the fuck outta this ass-fuck of a dungeon, the sooner I can do good on my word.”

You grinned amusedly. “Because you’re old school like that, huh?” You poked.

“Damn right,” he said, hand wrapping around the nape of your neck as he pulled you toward his lowering head. He placed a long kiss against the crown of your head, inhaling your scent in the process.

Your bandaged hand reached up to wrap around the arm that held you against Ben’s adoration, your eyes fluttering close as your body released the tension that had been drawing your every muscle rigid for countless decades.

During all these years at the lab, you were forced to be strong for both yourself and Ben. But you’d never been made to be a warrior—not in any way other than physically, at least. You wanted to be protected, held, cherished like a fragile item that could fracture with the slightest push. In that way, you supposed you were a little old school, too.

Ben had never hesitated to take on that role. To him, it was a dutiful honour—he wanted nothing more than to protect you.

Being trapped in this compound had you stuck in a loop of stress and anxiety, but for the first time, in a very long time, you knew you could breathe a little deeper to relieve that tightness in your chest. You knew you could risk that blink—that shuteye you’d been denying out of fear for your life. Because now that Ben was back, you knew that you were safe.

Gently pulling your head away from his kiss, your hand lingered on his arm as you whispered, “let’s go.”

His lips quirked in the softest smile of agreement, his hand hesitantly falling away from your neck only to take your banadaged hand into a firm, but careful grasp. “Just can’t get enough o’ you,” he chuckled deeply, but you caught the more solemn implications behind those words.

He’d been robbed of your touch for far too long, as much as you’d been of his. Only, he’d had to endure it much harder than you—having constant dreams about all the ways he could devour you during his induced comas. It had been an endless taunt with no assurance that it would ever happen, and now that he was stood here with you in the flesh, he was overcome with the urge to hold onto you, as though he could be ripped of your presence in a blink.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, your fingers tightening in his.

Ben glanced down at your intertwined hands, strands of his hair scattering across his forehead with the motion. It concealed any look that might’ve come across his eyes, but you didn’t miss the soft breath of relief that parted his lips.

He glanced back up at you with practiced composure, taking in a brave sniff as he faced you. “Ah, fuck all this teary-eyed shit. Let’s get the fuck outta here, get a banger meal and then lay one on a shitty motel mattress.”

You gave a small chuckle and released his hand to turn towards the door, where Ben shifted back to accommodate its opening. He held it open for you to slip through, and once you were in the hallway, he appeared behind you with the door clicking shut.

Glancing both ways, you were relieved to be in the clear, and even more relieved to hear that no warning alarms had been set off in the distance. You hoped that meant Butcher and the rest had managed to exterminate the rest of the guards before they had a chance to come down with their final iron fist.

Redirecting your attention to the exit, you beckoned for Ben to follow you through the double doors and out of the back of the compound. You stepped into the crisp night air, the doors swinging closed behind you as Ben appeared at your side, pressed into your arm as he sought out a fraction of your warmth.

“Son o’ a bitch,” he grumbled through chattering teeth, head swivelling about to get a glimpse of the unfamiliar environment.

“Yeah, you haven’t felt real cold in years,” you sympathised with a chuckle, hand slipping into his as you lead him through the empty lot dotted with crates and lorries.

“It’s a fuckin’ maze out here. Do you know where you’re goin’?” He asked doubtfully.

“Trust me, I know where we’re going.” You lead the way around a corner, where you came face to face with a yard of broken down, discarded vehicles that no longer served a purpose other than reusable parts. “Over there.”

You gestured to a modern, up-kept car nestled between various rusting metal on wheels. You’d stashed the getaway car here a few nights ago, and thankfully it had been one of the easier parts of the plan, given that not many employees wandered all the way out here.

You lead the way toward the vehicle, making a beeline for the driver’s seat. When you reached the car, you turned to Ben with a hand held in the air.

He slowed before you with a confused stare. “What?”

“The keys,” you told him, nodding your chin to the backpack on his shoulder. “They’re in the bag—the side pocket.”

He gave a slow nod of understanding and slipped the bag from his shoulder, plopping it down onto the floor as he bent over to undo the side pocket. A moment later, he pulled out the car keys, which wasn’t much but a remote and a dangling key chain. They clinked against each other loudly as he moved to pick up the bag in his other hand and rose to full height to face you, but he held off on handing you the keys.

“I’ll drive,” he said firmly.

You gave a light laugh. “I appreciate that, Ben, but you don’t know the first thing about the cars of today.”

The Supe looked insulted. “The fuck you on ‘bout? It’s a fuckin’ car. It’s got wheels, a throttle and a steerin’ wheel. How hard can it fuckin’ be?” He scoffed and lowered his head to the keys, pausing with a frown of panic before his gaze flitted back over to you. “It doesn’t fly, does it?”

You let out a loud laugh at that, which made Ben’s head loll to the side with a disappointed and slightly flustered stare.

“All right, all right,” he said—all hot and bothered as he glared you down. “So it doesn’t fuckin’ fly. Forgive a man for havin’ hope that the fuckin’ assholes back in our time did good on their promise of a future with flyin’ cars.”

He took a few steps toward the car, arm shooing you aside out of self-conscious spite. “I got this, all right, Princess?”

You faltered a step back as he barged past, your lips parted with the urge to rebound his argument, but you knew that a man like Ben needed to be shown, not told. “Fine,” you said, backing down to let him access the driver’s door uninterrupted. Your hands spread in a dramatic gesture. “Have at it.”

“I will,” he retorted arrogantly, clearing his throat as he lifted the keys to study it. His eyes flickered between the door handle and the keys a few times before flashing you a frustrated glare. “Quit starin’ at me like a braindead potato—I’m figurin’ it out!”

You had to fight to keep a grin from pulling at your lips, your hand coming up in a fist to conceal the lower half of your face. “Mhm,” you hummed into your hand, watching as Ben studied the remote for a few seconds.

The symbols that were supposed to mark which end of the singular button locked and unlocked the car had completely worn off with the years, so you couldn’t blame him for having a hard time with decoding the controls. It was at that point that you expected him to ask for some guidance, though, but the epitome of his masculine pride kept him silent. Eventually, he settled for pressing the bottom most corner, which made the car flash with the locking mechanism.

“Hah,” he breathed proudly, turning to flash you a smug wink. “See? Nothin’ to fuss over. Told ya I’d figure it out.”

“Yeah, you’re a smart one, Ben,” you indulged eagerly, hand falling from your face as you crossed your arms in waiting. “Go ahead, then.”

Ben reached for the handle, not without handing you a suspicious glance, and when he tugged on the door, he was overcome with impatience when he found it still locked.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be ticklin’ my fuckin’ ballsack!” He exclaimed irritably, hand falling away from the handle. You fixed him with a long, delighted stare that made him shake his head lightly before handing you the keys. “Wipe that grin off your fuckin’ mouth,” he warned.

You took the keys from him and clicked the unlock button. “Or what, Ben?” You asked pointedly, chin lifting to meet his stare boldly.

He chuckled all-knowingly. “You know what,” he husked darkly, eyes glinting with innuendo as he took a step toward you, chin tilted down as he sized you up. “Or I’ll have ya on your knees tonight, pretty lips all stuffed and achin’ ‘round my dick til you can’t even fathom havin’ this attitude of yours.”

Your lower lip fell limp at that, a soft exhale of disbelief leaving your lungs as your head tilted back to hold the weight of his scheming stare. “You’re threatening me with a good time, Soldier Boy?”

Ben’s smirk beamed through that overgrown beard of his at the use of his Supe name. You knew the title on your lips spurred him on in inconceivable ways. “Always a good time til you can’t breathe, isn’t it?” He hummed somewhat condescendingly. “Maybe it’s ‘bout time I give ya a taste of your own fuckin’ medicine.”

Before you had a chance to respond, he moved away to circle around you, then you felt his hand come down on your ass in a light spank. The sound echoed across the desolate, metal graveyard, and you were lurched forward an inch by the momentum.

“What was wrong with fuckin’ keys, anyways?” You heard Ben grumble as he made his way around the car and toward the passenger seat.

You gave an amused huff and shake of your head before opening the driver’s door and sliding inside. Once you were in the seat, you closed the door and were met with Ben not-so-gently tossing the backpack onto the backseat.

“Careful with that,” you told him, placing the keys into one of the compartments before moving to strap yourself in. “There’s a burner phone in there. I told Butcher to call us once they’re in the clear so that we know where to meet them.” You flashed him a quick glance. “Seatbelt,” you added.

Ben obliged and reached for his seatbelt before clicking it in place. “Butcher?” He echoed in confusion. “He the lead asshole of this entire operation?”

“Yeah, asshole and some,” you remarked with a tut.

You moved to press the car’s on button before grabbing ahold of the gear and shifting it into drive mode. Putting the hand break down, you carefully began to manoeuvre the car out of the scrapyard and through the quiet, empty lot.

You heard Ben’s stomach growl just as you neared the the fence-line, which made you glance over at him with sympathy. “We’ll get you something to eat soon,” you promised him.

“And I expect dessert, too,” he added with a sly smirk. You caught on pretty quickly with a smile and slight shake of your head before turning your attention back to the road. “Ain’t gonna lie, seein’ you take control and mannin’ the wheel like this is gettin’ me all hot and excited down there.”

You scoffed as you pulled up to the gates, void of any guards at this instant. They didn’t usually account for this part of the compound, but you were glad that that hadn’t changed within short time of tonight’s breach. You put your foot down on the break, slowing the car to a stop before you glanced at Ben.

“What, you gonna ask me to give you another quick job?”

Ben’s brow cocked expectantly. “You offerin’?”

You held his stare for a moment, if only for dramatic effect, before flicking your head at the gate. “Just get out and open the gate,” you ordered.

His eyes narrowed briefly, lips parting before he drawled a husky, “yes, ma’am.”

You watched as he unbuckled and opened the car door, making his way to the front of the car. He hovered in front of the gate for a few seconds, likely figuring out the latch, before he began rolling the gate back. In no time, he was back in the car and strapped in, and you gave the car some eager gas to push the both of you through and out the gates of hell.

You made a turn onto a long road, which paved way into a whole lot of unknown. You figured that anywhere would be better than this place, so you stepped on the acceleration and sent yourselves fleeing down the tar and toward the luminescent, rounded moon perched on the dark horizon. You couldn’t help but glance up at the rear view mirror, witnessing as the Russian compound gradually grew smaller and smaller with the hasty distance you sought to put between it and you.

“This is it,” you murmured, mostly to yourself, eyes turning back to the road before you. So much relief had been channeled into those very words, but your fingers still gripped the steering wheel with the fear that something would go wrong. It always did. The universe had a way of implying that neither you nor Ben were set up for a happy ending.

A warm hand slid over the hump of your thigh, fingers squeezing gently to offer a sense of comfort and support.

“Hey,” Ben called to you gently. You turned to glance at him, only long enough to catch the soft glint in his eyes before you turned back to the road. “Quit gnawin’ at your lip. We’re freed the fuck outta there. It’s just you and me now, yeah? We got this.”

You smiled weakly at his reassurance, making the conscious decision to ease off the tension in your grip on the steering wheel. “Yeah,” you murmured half-heartedly. There was not much that could convince you now, other than the events of the future itself. But for Ben, you would try your best to hope for only an upward trajectory from here on out.

The buzzing of a cellphone called your attention to the rear view mirror, where you zoned in on the backpack on the backseat. Ben’s head swivelled to glimpse the bag, his hand leaving your thigh to reach for it.

“Leave it,” you told him.

Ben paused and turned to face you with a puzzled glance. “Isn’t it Butcher?” He asked.

“It is,” you told him, eyes fixed on the road. “But that prick can wait. For now, I want you all to myself. We have lost time to make up for, and until we do, screw everybody else.”

You heard the Supe chuckle, the sound of the bag falling back against the seat gracing your ears soon after.

“I like this new you,” he commented, his hand moving to wrap around and rest against the headpiece of your seat. “God, it gets my balls up and runnin’. Wanna have a feel?”

You giggled at Ben’s forwardness, the sound almost foreign on your ears. You hadn’t realised just how much you missed these tiny, absurd moments between the two of you. You hadn’t had much to laugh about in a long time, or anybody to laugh with—life had been cold, dull and lonely. But now, as you drove into the horizon, with the man you so dearly loved at your side, you felt renewed within.

The Boys, the plan, everything. . . they could wait. Right now, nothing other than the two of you mattered.

──────────────────────

a/n ─ i have finally attempted gradient text and y’all are gonna be sick of me for it 😭 this wasn’t supposed to become such a long chapter, but i’ve had such a blast with this idea that i got a little carried away. i really hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it. part 3 will be out soon to conclude their little story! sorry for the delayed release, it’s been a scramble over here with christmas preparations + i fell ill a few days ago and have been fighting for my life ever since 🥲 (im just a lil sickly thing).

thank you for reading! all likes, comments & reblogs are deeply appreciated

tags ─ @gibson-g1rl @fallbhind @bohemianblasphemy @violent-darkness @babyfri3dric3 @cevansbaby-dove @artemys-ackles @nyx-the-alien @smutboba @mochminnie @kamisobsessed @littlewitchgirly @spxideyver @destinys-dreamer @star-yawnznn @weaponxgames

want to become part of the taglist for any future soldier boy works?

other works ─ the boys masterlist

© bluemerakis ─ do not plagiarise or steal any of my works.

[sdmnpact]

Hello I was wondering if I could do a request for Harry like reader and him on holiday together haveing a nice time and also there friends are there like something based on that vibe

Holiday.

Wroetoshaw x Reader

~~~

You woke up to the sound of your alarm. You reached for your phone and looked at the time. 7 am. You were due to meet up with a few friends soon and you wanted to get up early so you could get ready. You looked over and saw your boyfriend, Harry, still sleeping, even through your blaring alarm.

You laid there for a couple seconds admiring his features. His mouth was slightly open and his hair was especially messy. You brushed a hand on his cheek, oh how you loved this man. You didn't want to wake him up so you carefully got out of bed, slowly removing the blanket you two shared. You made your way towards the bathroom and quickly hopped in the shower.

You, Harry, and a couple of friends decided to go on holiday to a snowy location since you guys loved the snow. It was winter time too so it was really cold, you didn't mind because you enjoyed this type of weather anyways.

You finished your short warm shower and did your morning routine. You were brushing your hair when you heard a loud yawn from the bed. Seconds later you felt a pair of warm arms wrap around you. You turned your head and you were faced with a groggy but adorable Harry.

"Mmph, you're so warm." He said sleepily. "Well looks like you slept well then." You said with a chuckle, turning your body to face him, wrapping your own arms around his waist. "Yes, because I had the most gorgeous human next to me all night." You blushed a bit at the compliment and let him go turning back to the mirror.

"You're so cheesy." You mumbled. He kissed the back of your head. "But you like it." He said as he hopped into the shower. You rolled your eyes playfully and went back to getting ready.

You finished and sat at the bed, checking your phone. You scrolled mindlessly until Harry was finished getting ready. He was wearing some snow pants and a puffy jacket that made him look absolutely precious. You two made your way down to the dining area of the resort you were staying at and met up with the group. The group consisted of Ethan, Faith, George, Chris, Arthur tv, Arthur Hill, Issac, Liv, and Becky.

You met up with the ones who were already down. You all sat at a large table and grabbed some of the breakfast from the buffet. You were sat between Harry and Becky.

"Looks like a great day for snowboarding!" George buzzed while everyone agreed. "It's gonna be great out there." Harry beamed towards you, bringing a smile to your lips. You ate your omelet with mash along with some orange juice chatting with the group. You were excited for the day because you were finally gonna spend some quality time with Harry besides the group activities planned. Harry was working very hard the last couple of months, so there wasn't much time for date nights or day outs, so you were going to cherish this free time together to the fullest.

After breakfast, the lot of you made your way towards the trails on the top of the mountain by chairlift.

"Are you warm enough?" Harry asked grabbing your gloved covered hand rubbing it with his own, trying to warm you up more. "Yes, are you? Your eyelashes are literally frozen!?" You chuckled slowly pulling at his lashes removing the frost that formed on them.

"I'm fine, I just wanna make sure you're comfortable." He said quietly looking at his feet danging in the air. "You're so adorable, but yes I'm fine, thank you for caring so much." You said, feeling your cheeks burning hot at the sentiment.

"Of course, I'll always care alot about you darling." He said turning his face towards you. Along with his frozen lashes, his nose was as red as a tomato and his cheeks almost the same. He was wearing a thermal face mask and a few hairs were peeking out curling upwards. You, on the other hand were just wearing a simple beanie and some cute earmuffs that were certainly doing a good job at keeping your ears warm.

A comfortable silence surrounded you two as the ride up continued, Harry kept warming your hands, not wanting to let you. As you reached the top, you guys hopped off the lifts and went towards the line. There weren't many people, so it wasn't a long wait.

Harry is excellent at snowboarding but you, on the other hand, had your difficulties. He knows you can do it with ease but you weren't as confident in your own abilities.

"You're gonna smash it babe, if you need help, I'm here." He reassured as you were up next. You smiled widely at him, quickly pecking his cold lips. You squeezed his hands to let him know you understood and then you were off. You went down the mountain, steering the board as well as you could. The rush of quickly going down the mountain filling you with excitement and you felt your heart pounding rapidly. The bits of snow flying up, hitting your face lightly as you made your descent. You tried your best maneuvering around rocks or small hills, hoping you didn't look as silly as you thought you did. You finally reached the bottom of the mountain and slowly slid to a stop, almost falling over.

You turned around and watched as Harry made his way down. You felt like he was outshining you on purpose as he slid down effortlessly. You admired that though. You loved watching him do anything, from this to golfing, to even just filming videos. He was your personal entertainment.

He maneuvered around a rock probably showing off at this point. But you realized, if he's showing off, then it's probably for you. You blushed at the idea that he still wanted to impress you after years of dating. Your eyes followed him as he finally reached the bottom point and slid to a stop spraying snow everywhere. You rolled your eyes playfully as he held a cocky grin. Your heart fluttered at the sight of him as he walked over towards you. He did his job well, you were fully impressed and enamored.

"You did amazing baby!" He said excitedly wrapping one arm around your shoulder as you began walking towards the lift again. "Me? You're the pro here! I'm so jealous!" You exclaimed flailing your arm showing your enthusiasm. He stopped in his tracks causing you to almost stumble but he held onto you tightly.

"You did so well! I'm so proud! You really shredded it out there!" He said, reassuring your insecurities. You felt your heart patter again. "Thank you, I'm so happy you believe so much in me." You said getting slightly sappy. "I will always believe in you." He said pecking your cheek. He began walking again but this time you stopped him. You pulled him close and placed your lips on his. You passionately kissed him wrapping your arms around his waist.

"What what that for?" He asked with a goofy smile as you pulled away. "It was an 'I love you so much'" You said beginning to walk away without him towards the lifts. You didn't look back but you heard him chuckle as he hurried to catch up with you.

You, Harry, and a couple of your group members kept snowboarding on the mountain for a while. It was such a good time, it just flew by. You were learning a lot, especially from Harry. He made sure to give you tips, praise, and basically everything in between. You two had so much fun and spent a lot of time cuddling together while waiting in line.

You guys got hungry after this and went to the nearby town that was having some sort of event. It was lit up with beautiful lights and snow sculptures, you were in awe at the sight. You guys walked around for a while trying to find what you wanted to eat. There were a lot of different food options as there were different types of food stalls around. You guys decided on some warm ramen from a nice anime styled food stall. You might have inhaled it because you were hungry and it was delicious or maybe it was delicious because you were hungry. Either way, it was good.

"So glad you didn't choke on it, I wouldn't know how you save you." He joked as you two finished your meal. "I don't choke, you should know that by now." You responded cheekily as you walked up to throw away your bowls. You heard little 'oohs' and 'ahhs' from some people in the group and you just know Harry's face was red without looking.

You walked back and of course, red as a tomato. He doesn't like talking about your sex life in public but he doesn't mind if you do it, he just gets a little embarrassed and you love how red his face turns. You sat next to him. "You're so cute." You gushed grabbing his arm, hugging him tightly. "Yeah yeah." He mumbled, pretending to be annoyed but you know he loves it.

After a nice meal, Harry had arranged for you two to go to a hot spring for a bit to relax. There was going to be a light show later by the snow sculptures so you two wanted to relax a bit before you met up with the group again for the festival.

Hand in hand, you two headed for a little hot spring lodge and walked in. You were greeted by a nice lady who gave you guys bathing suits and towels. You went to take a brisk shower before getting in. "Ready?" Harry asked coming out of the shower next to you before grabbing your hand. He was wearing some swimming trunks without a top. You couldn't help and stare at his topless body, his prominent vline catching your attention.

"You know, you can stare at my body anytime, right?" He said smugly catching you off guard. You blushed grabbing his arm. "Stop" You said playfully as he just let out a breathy laugh guiding you towards the spring. He had rented it out so it would just be the two of you. You were really happy about it because you wanted to spend some intimate alone time with him. Nothing sexual, just time in each other's company.

You both slowly got in. The water burning hot, not too hot where it's melting your skin but still extremely hot. Once you two got used to the heat, you sat down next to other enjoying the relaxing warmth on this cold day. Your hands in his, underneath the water. You sat in comfortable silence for about five minutes just listening to the bubbling noise.

"You know- I just wanna say, you make me extremely happy." He said suddenly. You opened your eyes as you had them shut since the warmth had you in a comfortable state.

"You make me happy too." You responded back turning to look at him. "I know we haven't had much time to spend together lately but I just want you to know that, I love you deeply and I would spend every second of the day with you if I could." He said pulling you on top of him. You floated onto his lap and got comfortable quickly. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I know that. I get that your busy. I don't mind it. I know you're passionate about the things you do, I'm just happy I get to see you live your dream." You said brushing his cheek. He pecked your lips, staring at you and letting out a deep breath. "You're just amazing." He said pulling you closer. "So are you." You said, your forehead against his. You two sat in eachothers arms for quite a while just enjoying being near eachother.

Your body was as wrinkled as a prune once you were done. You didn't want to leave the warmth of the spring or Harry for that matter but it was time to head towards the festival and meet up with the group. You dried off and watched as Harry dried himself with a towel. "You can't stop staring at me, can you?" He said with a chuckle as he noticed you staring again. You blushed and rolled your eyes.

"Well, can you blame me?" You said cheekily pointing at his body. "I mean I'm not that fit." He said with a huff. "What!? Have you seen yourself!? You're literally sculpted like a god!" You exclaimed walking over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. "Only you could see me as perfect." He said wrapping his arms around you, kissing your forehead lightly.

After that little moment, you two hurried, putting on your clothes and drying your hair. You made your way back towards the small town where the festival was being held. You were lucky that you guys went on holiday in time for this festival. Once you arrived you saw the spectacle that was the light show. The snow sculptures were lit with lights inside, creating a beautiful effect and there were fairy lights all over the place, creating a nice, warm atmosphere. The sun set quickly and darkness took over, leaving you in an array of vibrant colors illuminating the way.

You eventually found the group and you guys sat around a small campfire. You bundled up with Harry as a few others went off to bring some beers for the group. It was cold, but the roaring fire in front of you guys warmed you up quickly. You guys, sat around chatting about anything and everything. Harry had his arm wrapped around you the entire time, not wanting to let you go, even for a second. You drank your beers, the cold liquid matching the cold temperature nicely. You were becoming slightly tipsy so the night began becoming a blur.

What you do remember fondly is the way Harry kissed you when the fireworks went off towards the end of the night. As you two walked around the path, taking in the large snow sculptures in their entirety, fireworks began setting off, causing you to jump. Harry placed his hand on your lower back, reassuring you. You turned to face him, his face illuminated by the colorful fireworks. "You're so beautiful." He said caressing your cheek. You smiled widely at him as his arm made his way around your waist pulling you closer.

His lips on yours as firework abruptly not only above you but inside you. An immense feeling of happiness overwhelmed you as you continued kissing. Your lips moved against his passionately as your hands found their way towards his golden locks. You heard a picture being snapped and pulled away turning towards the sound. Ethan had taken a picture of you two kissing.

"Such a lovely picture of the beautiful couple! Dont you think, Faith?" He said showing his phone towards his wife.

"Absolutely stunning picture. This is definitely a keeper." She snickered. You rolled your eyes at them feeling the blood rush towards your cheeks. You looked at Harry, as red as you and you two just laughed it off.

There was also a nice moment where you two stumbled upon a snowman making area and you were raving about how yours and Harry's looked way better than anyone elses. Realistically, it was a lopsided mess that looked as if it were in a car accident but it was made with love so you didn't care. Harry had named it 'Ronald' and you, of course took many pictures of your precious child.

The night quickly ended after that and you all retreated to the warm, comfy beds of your rooms. You dressed in warm, comfy pjs and Harry into some pj pants and a random tshirt. You both plopped into bed, putting on a random film. The night ended as sleep took over and you laid there in the arms of the love of your life.

~~~

A/n

Hey guys, sorry for taking such a long break. I've realized that I think I get writers block every other month since this is the second time this happened. If this continues then maybe I'll have to take a month off every other month to refresh. Sorry again for this request taking forever but I finally got ideas again and I will be updating this entire month!

Another thing is, I had decided on a Dubai holiday but after speaking to my coworker who is an actual author (that was so crazy to learn), she said I should make it a cute winter holiday and I loved it. Most of the activities are based off the sims 4 snowy escape expansion because I had no clue what actual activities one does as I've never gone on holiday. The festival of lights and the hot spring was heavily inspired from that so I hope it was alright!

Okay, well thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!

[kokonoisgf]

jealousy - chuuya nakahara

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

☆  character: Chuuya Nakahara

☆  tw: MINORS DNI 18+ sexual explicit content (fem reader) : jealousy sex, "princess", "doll", praises, idk yo I just love that man

☆ note: been ages lolz, anyways i'm trying to get back into writing so sorry if this is rusty UGHHH enjoy my loves *: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*

☆ word count: 3.8k

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Intimate hues of the lights adorned the halls were oh so perfectly framing your face as you talked - or rather extracted information - from  a member of the X party. Abundance and richness dripped from every corner of the rooms: candles flickering lazily, buffets on silver platters filled with caviars, smoked meats and fruits, champagne, and lots - oh yes lots of diamonds. It looked as if everything was too good to be true, a glittering illusion masking darker secrets beneath. And that’s exactly why you were there with Chuuya by your side on a mission to gain crucial information about X- said information specifically requested by Mori. There had been news going around town that they had been stealing shipments late at night, and that meant stealing from the Port Mafia’s ground. Crossing lines that they should've never crossed, unless they wanted to end up six feets under. 

You walked through the crowd, the slit of your dress went  up your soft thighs, as it almost reached your waist, letting people swarm over you like moths enamoured by the brightest flame.  It was as if all the lights in the room were on you, your gaze looming over the executive, needing just that last piece of information to finally call it a night.

The mission went even more smoothly than you thought, your hand slowly touching the man’s arm, a sweet laughter dripping from your parted lips at his joke. Every gaze was filled with a desire to touch, to know, to possess.

His attention was easy to catch. He leaned in closer, clearly infatuated, eager to please. But you kept your smile soft, your tone disarming, and yet beneath it all, your gaze was sharp, ready to extract the information you needed. You were so close, one more well-placed word, one more laugh, and you’d have the final piece of the puzzle.

Chuuya, who was sitting at the bar a few seats from you, narrowed his eyes, sharp canine poking from between his kissable lips. Downing a drink in silence,  his eyes held a barely restrained fury ‘Fuck’ He cursed under his breath, low enough that only the nearest patrons might hear, eyebrows cocking as the man seemed to be about to devour you whole. Leg shaking under the table, he impatiently taped the side of his glass with his gloved fingers. Said gloved fingers slick from the condensation of the drink. A droplet slid down the side of the glass, slow and deliberate, before landing with a quiet plop on the polished oakwood of the bar. He could hear everything: the ticking of the clock, the chatters all around him, but more so how your sweet voice responded to the man. 

He was losing control, and he knew it. This wasn’t just about the mission anymore. It was about you, and the way this man had dared to even look at you, there was no way he could ever get away with it. Chuuya had to remind himself over and over—it’s part of the plan, it’s part of the plan—but the jealousy clawing at him was winning. The thought that maybe you didn’t see him the way he saw you ate at him, and he was two seconds away from tearing the whole operation apart.

And then it happened. The man, charmed  by your smile, your attention, let his hand slide lower, reaching out to grip your thigh. You could feel the roughness of his fingers skimming across your skin, and your body tensed instinctively. Before you could even react, a sharp sound cracked through the tension—a gloved hand smacking the man’s away, so forcefully the slap echoed across the room.

‘Sir!?’ Confusion filled  the executive’s  voice, as his eyebrows raised, clearly not ready to back out so easily. You could  only sigh internally, it had always been like that. Every time you worked to get close, Chuuya lost his cool just before the crucial moment.  It would have been a blatant lie to say that it annoyed you, in fact you found his jealousy strangely endearing.

‘Back off asshole, she’s with me’’ Growled Chuuya, Cerulean eyes boring into his. His arm was  firmly wrapped around your waist, bringing you even closer, gloved fingers digging into your soft exposed  skin as if to reiterate his point. He looked absolutely breathtaking like this -  when his possessive side showed like that, you thought in a haze. His cologne mixed with his natural scent only made your head spin even more. 

‘I believe we were having a discussion - ‘ The executive stammered, trying to assert himself until he was cut by Chuuya’s rough voice. 

‘Shut the fuck up’

The Mafia executive spat, cutting him off mid-sentence. He clearly was not having it, and before the man could even say another word, He whisked you away upstairs in a closed room where he slammed the door shut. He clicked his tongue in irritation, unbuttoning the upper half of his shirt, unveiling a sliver of his ivory-white skin with each pop. He felt  like he was  losing his damn mind, needing to cool down for a second, everything becoming way too much way too quick downstairs. 

Your gaze never left  his, cradling your face in your arms as you laid atop the plush mattress of one of the many many rooms in this mansion. You could see the storm raging inside him, the jealousy, the protectiveness, the raw need. And you couldn’t help but tease him, just a little 

‘Chuuya, focus on the mission, would you?’

Your teasing tone did  not go unnoticed as a faint blush dusted his cheeks, his jealousy so clearly put on display. Freezing for a moment, he was suddenly hyper aware of every breath he took.Turning  around to face  you, he frowned.

‘I can’t stand seeing any of those pieces of shit touch you’ He was more than bold, cornering you against the bed. ‘Would you understand that?’ He raised an eyebrow, playing with your words. You couldn’t help but enjoy this. This desperate jealous side of him that you always saw on missions like these. Flickering your eyes to his lips, you smiled innocently. 

‘It's part of the mission Chuuya, how else do you want us to get that information Mori asked for’

He only gruffed, leaning against the wall beside you.

‘There’s just no way I can see that and stay calm, y’know me’

He raised an eyebrow, as if this was the most evident thing in the entire universe.

‘Besides, I’d rather use my fucking fist then let one of the these dirtbags breath the same air as you’ 

Gosh - It made your heart flutter. You leaned forward, almost tauntingly letting the silky satin drip down your chest, exposing your cleavage. ‘Yea? You would? Tell me more’

Chuuya narrowed his eyes at you, a faint blush back on his cheeks, as his gaze desperately tried to avoid the valley of your breasts so prettily put on display for him. 

‘Cut that crap already’ He paused scowling, regrouping his composure slightly before letting himself sit next to you on the bed. You taunting him was enough to send him to heaven and back. Not to mention the way your dress hugged your curves so perfectly, the material dipping exposing your curves - Stop. He had to control himself. 

‘I mean it…’ You were now the one who was bold. Your hand coming to rest gingerly on his thigh. He tensed, his whole body feeling as if an electric current ran through him. ‘I want to know what’s on your mind right now…’ You cooed, your eyes drinking in the sight of his flustered face. You’d had wanted him since forever, and now it was enough, you could not hold back anymore. Seeing his possessive side shine through in missions always aroused you more than you’d ever admit, but today was your breaking point — The faint glow of the candle light illuminating the side of his face, taunt jaw, pursed lips, and furrowed brow. He was beyond handsome, but that was no news to you.

The tension in the room felt thick, like a cord pulled taut, ready to snap at any moment.You shifted slightly, the soft silk of your dress brushing against your skin, reminding you just how far you were pushing him. The material clung to you in all the right places, the slit revealing enough to make anyone pause in their tracks, but it was the way Chuuya looked at you that set you alight. His gaze burned with such want, that he felt himself getting dizzy with need. 

On the other hand,  you couldn’t help it. You loved testing him, pushing his limits just to watch him unravel. The way his jaw clenched, the subtle twitch in his fingers like he was fighting the urge to grab you, it made you delirious with want.

His sharp gaze, usually so bold and confident, held a tinge of timidness in the depth of it. Clearing his throat, his eyes zeroed on the way your thumb gently caressed his thigh, the sensation alone enough to send a surge of heat to his groin. It was as if he was at a loss for words,  a rare sight indeed. Years and years of longing for you coming to crash down on him like waves perpetually hitting the shore. 

‘You know…’ you purred, voice dripping with that teasing edge he loved and hated all at once, ‘if you can’t handle this, maybe I should’ve gone with someone else. Someone who could keep their cool on a mission like this.’ You just wanted to rile him up enough so that he could confess his feelings, and gosh — seeing the look in his eyes as his face snapped to meet yours. It was all too good.

His gaze  flashed, anger and desire swirling together in a dangerous mix. He shifted, grabbing your hand that once rested on his thigh  in one swift motion, holding it just tight enough to make you feel the strength behind his restraint.

‘You’d better not even joke about that’ he murmured, voice low and  eyes dark with barely restrained jealousy. ‘Am’ the only one who can touch you. Got that?’ His hand gently grabbed ahold of your chin, tilting it up to meet the seriousness of his gaze - and at that moment, you  wondered  if you pushed it too far. 

‘Touch me right now then..’ Your voice sent a deep shiver through every pore of his being. Chuuya's keen eyes flashed, pupils dilating with sheer lust as he took a moment to register your words. 

‘Yea? Sure’ you can handle it?’ His grip on your chin faltered until he pushed you down gently on the bed. You almost melted into a heap on the mattress, his nervosity seeming to vanish in one-go and you knew you were in for a ride. Chuuya did exhibit such a calm demeanour before you, yet his insides were twisting with a mix of want and apprehensiveness. Truthfully, he would have been lying if he said he hadn’t been dreaming about this moment for so long, and now that words had been spoken, holding himself back was not an option anymore. 

You felt your insides burn and turn as he lowered himself on top of you, cornering you between his body and the plush mattress. Your plump lips parting to voice your thoughts, but you remained silent as if in awe of the man above you: long ginger strands cascading atop his shoulder, cerulean eyes swirling with a twinkle of lust and his white button up slightly — oh so deliciously unbuttoned exposing the fair skin of his collarbones. 

He hummed, eyes taking in the sight of you sprawled below him, completely at his mercy. 

‘Hmm why you so silent now? Seems like just now you had so much to say’ He purred teasingly, leaning down to whisper against the shell of your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

“So what is it? Cat’ got your tongue princess?’ You just looked so damn edible underneath him, that the Executive couldn’t help but trail his gloved hand down your face, until his thumb rubbed soothing patterns on your cheek, tilting your face slightly to make your gaze meet his. The way you gazed at him, looking utterly vulnerable beneath him, lit something inside him as he gulped down, eyes racking over your whole body, until it met yours again.

Even though his teasing tone, his eyes held such pure and raw affection for you, that you felt time stop for a mere moment. Swirling in his sapphire gaze was years of love, jealousy and pure lust.

‘Can I kiss you?’ He blurted out, biting on his lips as if using all his crumbling self restraint to wait on your answer. Chuuya would never do anything to displease you — you were his muse, his reason to go on, his soulmate: all he did in life was for you, to one day be able to call you rightfully his. He was a romantic at heart, but just for you.

 Leaning his forehead on yours, he held your face affectionately pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead 

‘You don't know for how long I’ve wanted this- how long I've wanted you.’ He exhaled, eyes closing as he felt you nod, allowing him to finally seal his lips with yours, and gosh at that moment he swore the heavens made you just for him. 

Fishing a hand through his strands, a desperate whimper of his name caresses your lips as his tongue delves into your mouth wasting no time. He smiles into the kiss pressing himself against you, his hand moving to grasp both your wrists, pinning you against the mattress. He doesn’t want you to move nor do anything, he just wants the whole mansion to hear who you belong to. 

‘Fuck-’ He cursed under his breath, letting off a breathy exhales, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to his. At that moment you can truly say that Chuuya has never looked so gorgeous.

‘Need to taste you on my tongue doll- right now. ’ Oh- now he’s even bolder. Kissing was more than enough to send electricity racking through his being, but Chuuya was a greedy man when it came to you. After spending countless nights fisting his cock to the idea of his tongue buried deep into your soaked pussy he really can’t seem to be able to hold himself back anymore. 

Cutting straight to the point, all he cared about was tasting you, your own pleasure building his brick by brick. Besides, he swore he could most likely get off to pleasuring you—your pleasure his own.

You’re quick to hitch your leg up his shoulder, Chuuya’s breath hitching in his throat, fingers letting go of your wrists to instead dig into the subtle skin of your thighs. 

‘God- I could cum just from looking at you’ He cursed, and you see it in his eyes that he’s being truthful and it stirs the deepest blush onto your cheeks. Another moan of his name slips past your lips as he presses a series of kisses on your inner thighs, his eyes looking like he’s teetering on the verge of insanity, high on you and your scent. Lashes fluttering closed, he skillfully hooked a finger under your pantie moving it aside giving him prime view of your soaked cunt. 

‘Fuck- this wet just from kissing me, huh?’ He felt himself spinning, mind unravelling at the sight before him. You, on your back with your dress hitched up to your waist, a leg comfortably resting on his shoulder with your pretty pussy just waiting to get tongue fucked by him. 

‘How long you been wanting this, tell me princess’ He cooed such tease dripping from his tone as his eyes drank in the sight of your flushed face. 

‘Years..’ you confessed, as he chuckled the air that exited his lips caressing your drooling folds.

‘That’s it… that’s my pretty girl’ he purred, completely and utterly drunk on you, feeling you throb against his index finger collecting your slit, bringing it to his lips. He felt your fingers grasp his locks, gasps resonating throughout the luxurious room, before he slowly manoeuvred his finger up and down your slit, index delving into your cunt. His mouth gaped, as if entranced by the view of his finger disappearing into your pussy, your juices drenching him. It’s not long before he adds in his middle finger, almost salivating at the sight. 

‘Taking my fingers so well baby’ Chuuya praised, his tongue locked onto your pearl, pretty lashes of his fluttering shut, his hips grinding into thin air. Flicking his tongue against your poor fucked-out nub, Chuuya’s fingers were skilfully moving inside you, wasting no time to repeatedly abuse your sweet spot. 

’Mine — all fucking mine’ He possessively whispered, lips hungrily latching onto your clit, fingers relentlessly pumping in and out of you. You were bucking into his hand, à thin ring of cum coating his fingers. Eyes zeroed on your cunt so greedily swallowing his fingers, he babbled drunk on your pussy

’Made for me’ all of you, - Fuck’

Your body arched under him, every muscle tightening as the pleasure built and built, coiling inside you like a spring about to snap. Chuuya's fingers moved with such skill, as if he'd memorised your body long before tonight, knowing exactly how to bring you to the brink of release. His mouth on your clit, hot and demanding, had you squirming against him, but his strong hands kept you firmly in place.

‘Chuuya—’ you gasped, voice cracking with desperation. You were so close, oh so close to an  overwhelming climax. His name left your lips like a prayer, which only seemed to fuel him more, his grip on your thighs tightening as he fucked you with his fingers and  greedily ate you out like a starved man. 

Then suddenly, the  tension in your body snapped like a cord pulled too tight, and your orgasm washed over you in waves, pulling you under with such force that you could hardly breathe. You tried warning him, but you could babble moans of his name as your body trembled against him, and Chuuya never let up, his fingers still thrusting into you, dragging out every last ounce of pleasure until you were a shaking, gasping mess beneath him.

He groaned, feeling the way your walls clenched around his fingers, his hips grinding down against the bed in search of some kind of relief. He looked utterly drunk on lust—his face flushed, his lips wet with your juices, his eyes blown wide with lust and satisfaction.

‘You’re so fucking beautiful like this’ he rasped, pulling his fingers from you slowly, and bringing them to his lips to taste you again. He licked them clean, savouring the flavour of you as if it rivalled the finest wine.

You were still panting, your chest rising and falling with each laboured breath as you tried to come down from the high of your orgasm. Chuuya hovered above you, his body shaking with need, but he didn’t push you didn’t demand anything from you. He simply looked at you, as if the sight of you in this state of bliss was enough to satisfy him somehow.

Although,you wanted more- you needed him. After catching your breaths, you pushed him down, climbing on top of him. His eyes widened at your actions, a blush dusting his cheeks up to his ears as if he wasn’t just eating your pussy two minutes ago.

‘Need you inside me’  your hands made quick work of his dress pants as he sucked in a breath, eyes darkening further at your words. You could feel the hardness of him through the fabric of his underwear, the bulge leaving little to nothing to the imagination. 

‘A-Ah Fuck- wait-’ He cursed again, a whimper threatening to escape his lips as his gaze flickered between your beautiful angel-like face and your hand positioning him into your greedy cunt. A few strand of his long ginger hair stick to his face, cock already throbbing with anticipation to cum.

‘Won't last long I- got me so riled up earlier eating you-’ He bashfully mumbled, feeling beyond embarrassed only wishing that earth could open up and swallow him whole, looking off to the side. Cheeks now almost matching his hair. Truth was, he almost came from eating you out earlier, your soft moans of his name way more than enough to send him over the edge 1000 times over. 

His cock was so beautiful: flushed and leaking his precum dribbling down its shaft. Rubbing his tip against your soaked folds, Chuuya threw his head back against the pillow, eyes rolling into the back of his skull. His hands gripped onto your hips as if holding untold ear life, leaving crescent moon indents into your plush skin. He was desperately trying to suppress his moans and whimper, biting down on his lip almost drawing blood, until you slowly sank his length into you, seating on him.

A choked out gasp escaped his lips, curses filling the room, his hips gyrating upwards to meet your movements on top. 

‘S-So good to me’ He babbled out, drunk on your pussy, milking him, as if it was made to take him in. Cockhead kissing your cervix, he’s merciless, feets digging into the mattress to push his hips upward meeting your every thrust. Chuuya could revel in the feeling forever, whether it was the grip of your velvety wall around his pulsating cock, the way your lips parted shamelessly moaning his name like a mantra, or the way your tits bounced with every movement on his length. The pleasure was unbearable for the both of you already feeling your second orgasm creep out, impaling yourself on his cock at a faster and harsher pace. Your hands pressed against his chest leaning forward to bounce on him, and Chuuya swore he had been sent to the afterlife. 

‘C’mon baby- let me feel you cum on my cock-’ He choked out,and the words nearly sent you over the edge. His eyes met yours, and it was the way he gazed at you with such love  that finally gave you the slight push you needed to come undone on top of him. 

Tears streamed down your cheeks as the pleasure overwhelmed you, every thrust of Chuuya’s hips upward  sent shockwaves through your body, and you finally came on top of him. Fucking you through your orgasm, the redhead finally halted balls deep, knuckles turning white as he gripped your hips with sheer force enough to leave bruises indicating he reached his limit too. 

‘’C-Cummin-’’ He gritted through his clenched teeths, body twitched releasing thick long ropes of cum inside your pussy, his release flooding you with warmth. Collapsing on top of his chest, his hand tangled into your locks, slowly trying to catch his breath. He felt like his heart was right about to burst straight out of his chest. 

For a moment, everything was still. The world outside didn’t exist—there was only you and Chuuya, wrapped up in each other, your bodies still buzzing from the intensity of what had just happened.

And then, slowly, he cleared his throat, his eyes soft as they met yours. He wanted to say so much, yet his lips parted and his mind blanked looking into your eyes—your flushed face, parted glossy lips and doe eyes piercing right into his soul.You were so breathtaking, it completely made him lose his mind. Your fingers grazed the skin of his collarbone before you smiled softly speaking in a hushed voice

‘You wanna know something?’

‘Yea?’ 

‘If this is what happens when random creeps flirt with me on missions, I just might have to let it happen more often.’ 

Chuuya only chuckled, rolling his eyes, as his hand came to caress your hair lovingly. Pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead, he nuzzled your locks swearing that one day he’d make you his, and that this was only the beginning.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

+ back to masterlist

⋆ likes and reblogs are always super appreciated ⋆