#slams my fist on the ground multiple times

[sillylittlegaymer]

Drew some characters i found on the dsaf fanon wiki…

And heres my old ass oc-

[princessbrunette]

boxer!rafe had his anger mostly under control. thats what the boxing was for. but no one’s perfect. there were times he’d slip up.

he’d developed the knack for being able to ignore the other men in the locker room at the fighting grounds. he had his own upcoming fights to worry about, his own family to feed — whilst he used to be a sucker for a good argument, it had become the least of his concerns. they knew that about him, therefore they knew what would get under his skin.

“ayeee, it’s pretty boy!” one jeered as he stepped into the locker room — sore, toned body trudging over to his usual locker to retrieve his stuff so he could get out and go home to you. he was used to the nickname, infact it had even been self proclaimed at some points on the ring. girls held up ‘pretty boy’ signs during his fights, upon winning multiple fights and climbing the ranks he was gifted a chain with ‘pretty motherfucker’ engraved on the pendant. it was nothing new to him.

the chatter continues in the room amongst the men, and he figures he can let his guard down now, knowing they wouldn’t be testing him. they’d heard of his rage through stories, rumours that he’d been in jail for killing a cop in his past. it intrigued people, wanting to see how far they could push him. just as the cameron boy is getting his gym bag together to leave, he’s brought into the conversation once more.

“right? i wanna start seein’ some newer faces in the crowd i’m gettin’ tired of the regulars.” the same douche that addressed rafe when he entered speaks, eyes flickering over to the younger guy in amusement. “hey cameron, got anyone you can bring to spice things up around here? how ‘bout that pretty wife of yours? maybe she can motivate me before the fight—”

he doesn’t get to finish his taunt, before in a flash rafe had pinned him the locker with a crash, doors rippling and padlocks clattering. he presses his arm into the man’s neck, jaw clenched and vein popping out his neck.

“fuck you say? huh? nah, go ‘head repeat yourself.” rafe threatens, practically growling through bared teeth at the man. the other fighter goes to shove him back, but the cameron man is unmovable. if there’s one thing he doesn’t play about, it’s you.

rafe stumbles back slightly, but it’s only to wind up and slam his fist into the man’s face when he dared to smile. the other men start to get involved now, trying to pull rafe off but it only made him angrier. “think that’s funny? yeah?” he yells, and punches the man again, the time harder. his skin cracks and blood splashes onto his knuckles as he continues. he knew this was going to result in at least a week suspension from the gym, and that was with the gym owner being fond of rafe. he shoves himself off eventually, the man groaning on the floor in pain.

full of adrenaline, rafe picks up his bag and heads to leave, but not without spitting out a venomous “lemme hear you talk about my wife again. i’ll kill you. a’ight?”

he’s not proud of himself by the time he’s arrived home. it’s been a while since he’d gotten angry like that, violent outside of professional boxing. it’s so soft in your shared home when he arrives, and it makes him feel ashamed. it smelled like you’d been baking fresh cookies, the house clean just for him. it melts him, because sometimes he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still the monster he used to be. something that didn’t belong here.

he stops in the doorway to see you napping on the couch, looking delicate like a petal that had fallen off a flower, drifted in the wind and had just landed there perfectly. the small bump that had only just begun to show through your dress strains ever so slightly against the material and he scratches at his cheek. he shouldn’t be acting like this. not when fatherhood is approaching.

he busies himself off to the shower, hoping to wash the day from him. not long later, the sound of the water woke you — and you appear in the bathroom quietly, stripping yourself of your clothes and climbing in behind him. you press a soft kiss to the centre of his back because you could tell it’s tense, a telltale sign that he’d had a rough day. you don’t need to speak, not yet anyway as he relaxes slightly at your touch — feeling your tits press against him from behind and your swollen tummy when you lean forward. he lets out a long sigh, head running beneath the water.

hugging him from behind, you peer round to see his bruised knuckles. he hadn’t come home with those for a long time, he’d usually wrap them if he was going to spar or whatever.

“what happened?” you can’t help yourself, curiosity getting the better of you.

he presses his lips together, caught. he doesn’t wanna tell you what they said, make you uncomfortable. it’s not necessary and it would only make him mad all over again. he runs his knuckles under the water, ridding them of any of the left over dried blood that he wasn’t sure was his.

“ah i uh… i lost my temper… a little. s’not important.” he huffs, peeking briefly over his shoulder at you. you don’t question it, knowing it was potentially a sore subject. he feels another kiss on his back.

“s’okay.” you’re so nurturing, so gentle. your hands slide around his hip bones, caressing the veined skin on his lower stomach above his cock. the appendage jumps once realising what you were after. maybe it didn’t take long because of the soft kisses and your body pressing to his, paired with the day he’d had — but he’s hard in no time when you start palming at him.

he tips his head back under the water, the droplets racing down his toned back and shoulders as you slowly tug at him from behind, doing your best to relax him. “s’okay rafe.” you whisper once more. “you’re home now.”

he certainly was.

[jedipoodoo]

The Other Woman (Sergeant Hunter x Reader)

Notes: miscommunication Trope, Hunter is a Girl Dad™, single fatherhood is hot, how can you hate Omega?? Tbh this is kinda goofy lol.

"Ah, kriff."

Hunter glanced at the glow of his comm and leaped off the couch, running around your house to grab his jacket and his shoes.

"Hunter?" you paused the holo film as he put his shoe on the wrong foot, and quickly had to change it.

"What's wrong?"

He glanced between you and the glow of the holo screen, with his hands held out as if to placate you.

"I am so sorry, I gotta go, my girl's expecting me."

You blinked once. Twice. Then there was a rushing in your ears as your entire world crumpled around you.

"Your...girl?" you asked, fists digging into the cushions of your couch. You had spent months flirting with Hunter, agonizing over whether of not he might like you back. When he asked you if you'd like a date, your heart soared to the moons and beyond. For reasons beyond you, you had invited him into your house, cooked him dinner, only to crash back down to the ground and find out he had someone else.

Hunter was completely oblivious to your sudden moral panic as he started talking about "his girl".

"She's brilliant, kinder than anyone I've ever met, and smart as a whip."

"Glad she's such a catch," You snapped, getting up and marching over to the door.

Hunter finally recognized the anger, radiating off you in waves.

"Is everything alright?"

You barked a humorless laugh.

"Is everything alright? You tell me, Mr. Dark-and-broody! Being in a relationship with multiple people at the same time may have been simple enough during the war, but not here! Not with me!"

His face fell.

"Oh right! I forgot, they didn't teach you any of that on Kamino." It was a particularly cruel barb, but you didn't care. You wanted Hunter to feel as utterly humiliated as you did right now.

"I... I don't understand..." Hunter mumbled, wringing his jacket in his hands.

"Let me spell it out for you then, Sergeant," You slammed the release on your front door and it hissed open, "Get out. Your girl may be okay with this, but I won't play second fiddle to anyone, not in this kind of relationship."

The only sound was the chittering of the sea crickets, a mournful melody that echoed the crestfallen look on Hunter's face. When he didn't move, you pointed him emphatically out the door. The moment he crossed the threshold, you shut and locked the door.

Then you collapsed into a ball and cried.

Did it amuse the force to play with your love life like this? You'd never had the courage to say yes to a date before. You were the kind of kid that got asked out only for it to turn out to be a joke.

Hunter was different. Hunter was supposed to be different. Everyone in the marketplace would talk him up all the time, from his heroics during the war, to the hard work he put in to help rebuild the island. You couldn't believe your good fortune at last when he asked you out.

Of course it was too good to be true.

You cried, curled up at the edge of the doorway until your spine began to protest. Even with all the energy drained out of you so furiously, you knew your bed would be a much more comfortable place to cry on. And there was still ice cream left in the fridge.

You ended up sleeping in the next morning. You didn't mean to. You woke up with your alarm first, but every part of you was just so sore and you were so exhausted, you just had to close your eyes for a few minutes.

A few minutes turned into a few hours.

It was noon when you finally made it to your noodle stall in the Archium, right next to Pilate's ice cone stand.

"You're late," The older man chuckled good naturedly as you started a fresh batch of pasta, "Your gentleman friend was here early this morning, waiting for you."

You tried not to grimace at the mention of Hunter. Your eyes were still red, but a wide rimmed hat hid that fact from your neighbors.

"Is he still here?"

"No, he left about an hour ago, said something about meeting an Omega."

Ah, so that was her name. You dped the hot water into your drain, not caring that it splashed everywhere.

"Everything alright?" Pilate asked.

"Peachy."

When you refused to elaborate, Pilate stopped pushing. It was lunch hour, so you soon had a line of customers stretching out around the Archium. You plastered on your customer service face and thanked all of them for their patronage, despite the anger that you held in your chest. It was shockingly easy to pretend you were perfectly fine when you had so many emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

For starting your day late, you were making a pretty decent profit. After the first couple of hours, business slowed down, but it would be just as busy during the dinner hour, and you had a few regulars that would pop in for an afternoon snack from time to time.

Lyanna Hazard was one such regular. She skipped up to your stall hand-in-hand with a new friend you hadn't met before.

"Hello girls! How can I help you today?" you asked.

"Four shrimp dumplings, please!" Lyanna placed her pocket money on the counter.

"Coming right up!" You ladled the dumplings from fry pit into two bowls, and set them in front of the girls. As you reached for the chopsticks so that they could eat, Lyanna's friend grabbed one with her bare hand

"It's hot!" she yelped, tossing the dumpling from one hand to the other in surprise.

Lyanna giggled, "That's why you use chopsticks, silly!"

Lyanna demonstrated, and her friend watched her, fascinated. With the dumpling balanced precariously on her chopsticks, she tentativelytook a tiny bite.

"Mmm!" she declared. She ravenously finished her dumplings while you laughed, rolling out pasta dough to make more dumplings.

"It's always a pleasure to see someone enjoy my food," You told her.

"It's amazing! My brother told me you were a good cook, but this is even better than I could've imagined!" she said.

"Oh really, who's your brother?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but the universe answered for her.

"Omega!"

You couldn't help the glare that involuntarily tugged on your face when you heard his voice. You spotted the offender halfway across the Archium, looking around, but to your absolute horror, Lyanna's new friend began to wave him over.

"Over here, Hunter!" She called, one hand cupped around her mouth.

You saw his shoulders relax for a moment, and then tense up again. It was the same spooked, father-in-headlights look that he gave you last night when you kicked him out. You wanted to shrivel up and die.

Lyanna and Omega missed this completely, however, and kept waving at Hunter. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here, but he begrudgingly trudged across the marketplace to your stall.

"Heya kids," He said, not quite looking at you.

"Hunter, you gotta try the dumplings!" Omega said, showing him her empty bowl.

"I have," Hunter said. It was part of the meal you'd made for him the night before. You thought you saw him glance at you, but you couldn't be sure. You were determined to stay angry at him, but those gorgeous brown eyes of his were going to be the death of you.

"Well, I'll see you all around then."

You turned your back on them, going back to the filling for the dumplings. You heard Lyanna talking excitedly to Omega about a few more stalls where they could get more food, and when you heard their voices fade away you assumed that all three of them had left.

There were a few moments of blessed silence, but Hunter cleared his throat, and you jumped in surprise.

"I need to talk to you."

You glared at him.

"I have nothing to say to you." you snapped.

"Then don't say anything but just listen-"

"You're a glutton for punishment, aren't-"

"I don't have another partner!" He said quickly.

You blinked, surprised.

"Omega's my little sister. She's my girl. She's who I had to get back to that night." to prove it, he pulled up his comm, sliding it across the table towards you.

You stared at him, suspicious. But you looked at the screen anyway.

Omega: Hunter, when is your date done?

Hunter: we're finishing a movie, kid.

Omega: I can't fall asleep. And Wrecker doesn't sing the Purrgill song as good as you do :(

Hunter: I told you I'd be gone tonight. I'll come say goodnight when I get back.

Omega: :(

You sighed. Omega was very sweet, and you couldn't imagine trying to say no to her on a daily basis.

"I am... So sorry..." You couldn't look at him, sliding his comm back across the countertop.

Hunter said nothing, but placed a hand over yours, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. That should've been one of the first things I told you.

He sighed, "I guess... I'm just not used to sharing everything, especially with new people."

"You're not obligated to share everything with me, you have a right to your privacy."

"I've been a soldier my entire life, and now, I'm trying to figure out how to be anything but. I was talking with Phee and she gave me an earful about how if I'm trying to date or get close to someone, I gotta make my priorities clear."

Hunter looked over his shoulder at Omega. She and Lyanna were at Pilate's stall now, trying to see how many scoops of flavored ice they could stack in one bowl.

"Omega's a good kid, but she hasn't had much of an opportunity to be one. My brothers and I aren't exactly model parents, but we're trying our best to give her the life she deserves."

You nodded, "That's admirable of you."

If you felt humiliated last night, it was nothing compared to the embarrassment you felt now. You'd insulted Hunter when all he was trying to do was take care of his little sister, which, if you thought about it, made him even more attractive than the tattoo and the eyes already did.

"All this to say, your reaction is completely justified with the information you had, and if you're willing, I'd like to try again."

He held out a hand to you, "Let me take you out on a proper date, to make up for all this."

You felt heat rising in your cheeks, "I should be asking how I can make this up for you," You insisted.

"Nonsense, you cooked and cleaned and everything and I tried to cut it short. Let me sweep you off your feet."

You raised one eyebrow. That sounded almost nothing like what he'd usually say.

He winced, "Yeah, I realized it the moment I said it. Phee told me that's what I should do, though I have no idea how to."

You giggled, "That's okay, I'd like that, though."

Hunter's eyes went wide, and you could almost melt into the cobblestones. "That's a yes? You're saying yes?"

"Yes," You giggled some more, and stepped out of your stall to speak face to face.

"I'd love to be swept off my feet by you, so long as it means you forgive me for being a poodoo-head."

"You are not a poodoo-head." Hunter said, placing his hand on your cheek, "You're a brilliant person, and I'd like to get to know you much better than I do now."

You flushed, from his words or his touch, you weren't sure, but you didn't entirely mind it.

You coughed to clear your throat. "So, Mr. Hunter, when should I plan on you picking me up?"

Hunter glanced at your stall, and back to you, "How soon can you close up shop?"

You grinned. You might have gotten a late start, but he didn't need to know that. He could make up for it in his own way.

"For you, Hunter? Right away."

[mx-your-name]

His Goddess - 2

Possessive!Adam x Goddess!Reader

Warning: Yandere theme, Possessive Adam, minimum Obsessed Adam, mention of willing to kill angels and sinners, Adam trying to fight a literal GOD, slight mention of sized and mommy kink, a weird ass dead Angel willing to do anything for you that goes by the name of fucking ADAM!

-Like any normal day you were awake doing business whether it was watching over the mortal world, heaven, or hell

-Just then you had to get called into a meeting making you even more annoyed while you were trying to maintain all three places which were all chaotic.. Lute was a mess after Adam’s death with Sera and Emily trying to cheer her up or something, hell was hell, and Earth was just a mix of heaven and hell that was 10x worse than both

-And to your no amusement only to find out that the meeting had lasted for three hours!

-Not only did you miss out on normal day activities you do but Adam was also panicked on where you were at

-He had woken up and went to the normal spot to find you NOT there so he thought you were in your library or something? Nope! Garden? Not there either! He had looked everywhere only to find no one, not his goddess in sight

-Adam knew he shouldn’t worry since you were not only a HOT GODDESS but one that is more powerful than the other four

-Including your hot and sexiness

- *s i g h s in d i s a p p o i n t m e n t*

-Image him calling you tall milf or Mommy cause how you always towered over him.. yeah weird motherfucker but we still love him

-You see how cocky he is about himself just wait until he tells you all the cool stuff that he had done for you to fall more in love with him but fails miserably, you already saw everything he had done from the start of time itself

-Size kink, you can’t tell me otherwise! Whether it’s you or him that’s taller! He’ll still have a size kink no matter what!

-Still calls you a bitch but instead he says, “milf bitch,” or “tall bitch,” or “hot bitch,” or even “mommy bitch,” He’s still coming up with more nicknames for you till this day, yeah weird motherfucker am I right?

-I regret doing this but I love him sfm…

-Has told you multiple times that you belonged to him and him alone which is like 5 or 6 times PER DAY sadly..

-Of course he trusts that you’d never leave him for someone else like who would? He’s Adam! The first man! The dickmaster! He just doesn’t trust that goody tooshoo Cupid guy that talks nonstop about love this and love that

-Yeah.. he definitely had to tell himself that he was the only one made for you and you alone. He fucking CACKLED for the past 5 10 minutes about that

-Meanwhile you were super bored in the meeting which was talking about what to do with certain IMP’s in hell that were going back up to the human world messing with the people and killing them after getting more calls from clients and shit about that

-You were really wishing you brought Adam in here to make it entertaining and have some views from a person that knew sinners personally that just wanted to kill them

-Now when you were looking through the eyes you have everywhere and saw Adam laughing to himself then leaving to grab a drink and sip on it, maybe it was in fact the best idea to not have him come to this Gods meeting

“I say we just go down there and handle them ourselves! Sooner or later they are gonna need to learn to not FUCK with the human world and just stay in their damn place! Maybe we should even give Stolas a visit about him letting those IMP’s use his book that was passed on through his family from us!” Demeter shouted slamming her fist on the table now standing up from her chair knocking it over making it tumble onto the ground. The vines alongside the wall as decoration grew bigger fast from her anger that was swelling up inside of her.

“Not only that but they are messing with nature! The nature that I took my time growing! The nature that I took my time out of my schedule to plant in the place that was needed and thought out only from it all gets mostly destroyed by.. fucking IMP’s!” Her shouting was heard throughout the entire room and through the giant down for all of your 40 foot tall frames. The vines growing faster and faster the more her anger boiled, Eros shirking down a bit muttering how this didn’t feel like a lovely conversation anymore.

Themis sat there, her hands intertwined neatly on the table, staring at Demeter through her blindfold over her eyes with a straight face. Ares felt the anger that was all so familiar that he knew during the wars he went through time and time again for humans only that was never really appreciated or respected anymore nowadays. You knew every emotion that everyone was feeling, you sat at your seat in between both sides. Resting your face in the palm of your hand that stood up on the arm of your chair wanting this meeting to be over since you still had stuff that you needed to get down.

For example like making sure that Adam hadn’t gone mad when finding that you were missing and leaving your place without him. It was always important to him that when you left you had to take him with you since he was always feeling like you were just cheating on him with that Cupid guy which Adam refers to him as. Yeah you had to tell him just because you're leaving without him doesn’t mean you're doing any of that with Eros after all he wasn’t anything more. That but also because Eros already basically had two wives since he is Cupid.

You also had to remind Adam that you two weren’t dating, which Adam acted so dramatic about crying that you didn’t love him anymore. He had crocodile tears going down his face, sighing as you lifted him up in your hands telling him to stop crying. When he thought you weren’t looking he had a smirk on his face knowing that he won the conversation. He “always” did, instead you only let him since Eros told you over and over that he could feel Adam’s love for you raiding off of him, but told you privately that the love Adam had for you was more toxic and possessive but still said it was so cute to see the love between you two!

“Demeter, please calm down. We’ll get this whole situation sorted out in no time and you know revealing ourselves to anyone besides to the certain people that know about us would mess up everything and would cause chaos to arise. We’ll all come up with a plan on what to do, maybe we could speak to Stolas about the matter after all he knows of our existence because of his family.” You told Demeter, breaking through the tension between everyone once snapping out of your thoughts about the matter you're gonna have to deal with when getting back to your place.

“I sincerely apologize, [Name]. I’m just a bit mad for what those IMP’s are doing to my amazing plants down on the planet Earth.” She explained, her vines shrinking back down with a swipe of her hand. Her once chair that laid on the ground was now sat back up thanks to her plants that sprouted from the bottom of her feet. Demeter sat back down in her seat with a swift motion, Eros now sitting back up in his pink chair that had hearts on it that was designed that was to his liking.

-After that whole thing the meeting went completely normal figuring out ideas and coming up with a way to get what Demeter wanted without breaking any of the rules

-Never have you been so thankful in your life when the meeting finally ended letting all five of you go back to what you were doing before the three hour long God and Goddess gathering

-Snapping your fingers you were easily back at your place, Adam who was watching television with a slurpee in hand sipping on it

-Your once 40 foot tall height shrunk down to ten feet that was still taller than Adam since you didn’t feel comfortable being short cause it didn’t fit you, that’s what you’d always say

-Once you sat down beside him on the couch expect him to immediately cling onto you like you were a jungle gym or something

-For a warning he ain’t ever gonna let go until he feels that he can but will still cling to your side wherever your heart leads you to

-Threatening anyone that he deems competition that’ll try and fight for your love

-Yes he HAS in fact threatened the other gods even the goddesses about staying away from you his lover

-Oh my YOU! He almost died a second time thanks to Ares but it was stopped by you. Adam knew that you’d protect him but didn’t show it telling you that he could’ve handled it on his own

-no… just no-

-Adam so wished Lute was here so he could show you off to her and say he had hit the jackpot on finding the one that was always meant to be his lover from the start

-He does miss Lute most of the time feeling a bit lonely without his best friend by his side but at least you're here with him! Not like you're ever gonna leave. He wasn’t able to die again with him by your side and you wouldn’t be able to die since you are a LITERAL goddess

-Had tried to convince you to bring Lute up here multiple times but you told him that you weren’t able to do that for the sake of the rules that were written down for you, you did tell him that if she did die that she would come up here and could stay here with the two of you if he wanted. Adam agreed with little hesitation because he realized that he might get you all to himself but if Lute was her she could protect you like your bodyguard

-As if you were gonna need one! If anyone tried attacking you they’re flicked away and if they did manage to after trying to get to where your at

“Oh come on Sugar tits! You will live Lute and we both could get what we want! I can have my best pal with me and you could have another person to add to this house that could pretty you!” Adam tried convincing you, walking side by side in the garden of flowers that Demeter had set up for you since she said your house was a bit dull m, that was but it wasn’t anymore when Adam arrived here and moved in total with your permission.

“I had already told you Adam, I’m not aloud the only way she could come up here is if she dies WITHOUT it being caused by me or any of the others.” You told him for the second time in the past two minutes man. Wait sugar tits? Oh great another nickname for you, guess it was a bit better than bitch mommy, gross. “Oh don’t be like that babes, what’s the worst that can happen? It’s just one person!” Adam said, slurping on his slurpee in hand, his golden wings resting behind his back. He no longer had his weird looking mask since he had died without it on.

“You ask one more time and I’ll take you going on walks with me in the garden away no scratch that, I'll take you sleeping with me away for a whole damn week if it makes you be quiet.” That had gotten Adam to shut up rather quickly huh guess that’s one of the things he doesn’t wanna go a week without or even a single day. He had bugged you so much one time so you kicked him out of your room for a whole night, he slept outside the door and apologized for what he did later that morning. He couldn’t even stand the feeling of sleeping without you in your big giant bed together.

Nodding your head as you continue your way through the garden admiring the flowers that Demeter had made for you. It was rather normal for all the gods or in other cases goddesses to give the others housewarming gifts. Demeter gave all of you plants and flowers, Eros had gotten any pink and pastel colors to represent love. Ares had gotten all shades of red and some black ones that often had both colors mixed to represent the war for him which he loved gladly.

Themis had gotten just blue that were all shades since she only wanted blue and some were white as an exception since Demeter said it was too bluey for the whole garden. You had gotten all kinds of colors since you were creation and creation could make any color and another part of the garden had darker shades of colors including black, all shades of gray, brown, and etc to represent the destruction.

Ares gave every person some knight armory stands along side the outside or inside of the huge like places you all live at to represent the protection of knights that could come to live from his power to protect the place it guards if anything tried to ever attack which was very unlikely but better be safe than sorry. Eros gifted everyone scented candles with your favorite scents and always gave you all new ones every once or two weeks cause the old ones melt away but that’s okay!

Themis gifted everyone scale if anyone needed an option on anything if you don’t ever make up your mind or see where a person should go to be either reincarnated or whiling them from the face of the entire existence. Your gift to everyone was to make anything they wished for since you had creation letting you create anything with the power of your magic that didn’t break a single sweat from you.

“How does a nice dinner and a movie tonight sound to you?” Breaking the silence with ease as your hand held the flower between your fingertips, the beauty is always surprising on how pretty and amazing things can look if you just focus on the present instead of technology, staying inside all day, or just not giving a single care about the world at all. “That sounds awesome, sugar tits.” Adam quickly agreed, grinning ear to ear, and there that nickname was there again.

Not able to hold the smile back from appearing on your face, letting out a laugh as you cover your mouth with your hand. Your eyelids open up revealing [color] eyes that had a star in the middle of it as the pupils. What made you even more beautiful to Adam in the scenery was your smile that would be worth a thousand or even more words that he spent in a heartbeat. But also because of the way you looked at him with pure eyes that seemed to easily overpower anyone if they tried to fight you, yet again they held both the sunset and sunrise you would always want to see with your significant other every day at any given chance that was open for free.

The sun shining brightly behind you making your appearance glow brightly made Adam feel like he fell so much harder for you than he already was. If he thought he was already deeply in love with you, this one handed split second had sealed the deal on his love that he felt for only you. And the way you were looking at him with laughter and a smile he knew you must love him back. If it wasn’t his cockyness talking he would say that he was glad you were starting to love him but maybe not as much as he loves you but that’s okay cause he could love you with all the love he’d offer. Maybe even kill sinners and angels combined to see you give him that smile every day.

[kaeichi]

mixed drinks, mixed feelings.

[wc: 1.9k] ex fwb! gojo. sfw. angst. alcoholism. hurt/no comfort. you and gojo are teachers at jujutsu tech.

“hey, gojo?”

“...”

gojo hates drinking.

you're not sure who this imposter is—this slumped figure who is currently hunched over the sticky countertop, tangled white hair sprawled messily against the dark sleeves of his arms, accompanied by four almost-empty shot glasses nearby. no, the man you know has never even taken more than a couple sips when the staff goes out for drinks after work hours, nor could he barely tolerate the smell without gagging, his beautiful face contorted almost comically into unequivocal disgust, so whoever this is in front of you couldn't possibly be him.

around an hour ago, the crew decided to head over to the nearest izakaya to celebrate nanami’s newest promotion at his job. he may have left jujutsu tech a long time ago, but he remained close friends with everyone nonetheless. it was only after multiple rounds of drinks that you realized how gojo has mysteriously disappeared for a suspiciously long time, and everyone was too buzzed to notice. after checking the bathrooms and excusing yourself outside, a strange feeling washed over you; for some reason, you eventually found yourself making your way to the bar right across the street.

it seems that one way or another, there is that invisible string that persists, faintly pulling you towards none other than gojo satoru.

tentatively, you lean down, a hand reaching over to gently shake his shoulder. the overwhelming stench of liquor invades your nostrils, but you resist the urge to withdraw, your concern winning over. “you alive, gojo?”

“…it's satoru,” he groggily mumbles.

sighing, you drag a bar stool to sit beside him, observing the uncharacteristically disheveled male. the sight is so bizarre that it makes you audibly laugh in disbelief, and you're tempted to snap a picture for blackmail purposes—he deserves it, you think. just because it's him. what the hell happened to the suave, well-groomed, overly confident sorcerer that you know? the man with very little to no apparent weaknesses at all?

even the strongest has his moments, i guess. if you recall correctly, this might be the first time you've seen him so openly vulnerable. you try to will away the strange sputtering in your chest.

tugging at his wrinkled sleeve, you urge, “look at me.”

no response.

the drinks you've consumed earlier are now starting to take effect, a light headache incoming as you try to think of what you should do. you count one, two, three, before a haunting realization comes to you, making you grab a fistful of his snowy tufts and forcefully gripping it upwards. his eyelids twitch, adjusting to the light after previously being closed shut. when he finally opens them, your breath gets caught in your throat—his once brilliant azure eyes are now a bland gray, with a hint of red rimming the outline.

“gojo?! christ, snap out of it! why can i touch you?”

somehow, the fucker still manages to smirk.

“why not? you've never complained about it before, so why start n—” you let go of his hair, letting his forehead slam back on the counter with a dull thud. he makes a dissatisfied noise, whiny and drawn out, before groaning, “who do you think i am? i can sense your presence way before you came here—my infinity wasn't off this whole time. and again, that's satoru for you.”

that gave you little reassurance, unsure whether or not to fully believe him—especially in this sorry state. despite his devilishly good looks and capabilities, gojo satoru is lame, a menace, and acts like a fool most of the time; but even you know that's a ruse. right now, there's no silly antics, no mask to hide behind, no façade to protect himself. even his fancy sunglasses are long forgotten on the ground below him.

“care to share what's on your mind, my dear friend?”

the seemingly disoriented colleague of yours adjusts his head so he can face you, still leaning against the dirty wood as his lips pull into a pout. “your dear friend, huh…”

“what was that?”

“nothing,” he then sits back up, his voice back to a normal volume. “so? wanna take a shot with me?”

you try your best to refrain from grabbing him by the hair again and slamming his head downward, on purpose this time. “you already drank a whole bottle back at the izakaya, and even that's pushing it. what's with you?”

his glassy, bloodshot eyes regard your stressed expression for a moment before he turns away, opting to stare at shelves of alcohol displays in front of him. “do you remember how megumi acted the first time he met you?”

…of course he'd ignore your question. having a conversation with someone like gojo will never be as clear-cut as you’d like it to be.

still, you decide to entertain him; it is a nice memory after all. fushiguro megumi, one of your students, who is also the little kid whose sister you coincidentally saved from a near death experience many years ago. little megumi came up to you after learning what happened, his head bowed low as he muttered his sincerest thanks in a small, quivering voice. you had kneeled down to his eye level, assured him not to worry about it, but he refused to look up, nor to even budge an inch. then as a joke, you told him to give you a nice big hug if he wanted to thank you more, and he complied, much to you and (especially) gojo’s surprise.

“mhm. didn't know you were the sentimental kind. is that why you refuse to get drunk?” you tease.

“whatever. i've been taking care of that brat for over ten years now, and he's never given me any kind of gratitude or affection whatsoever.”

“...have you ever thought that maybe it's because you have a personality issue?”

“that's not the point!” he whips his head to you, glaring at you with such venom that you can't help but grin widely. he immediately stops scowling at your reaction, maintaining eye contact for a few seconds before he averts his gaze once again. “i… understand him, is all i’m saying.”

“you ditched the group and went all the way here, alone, just to reminisce about the past? you truly never change, huh? you're still as dramatic as ever.”

“disrespectful little sh–” and he's back to glaring at you with a subtle sneer. “why'd you even come here?”

“first: you can't call me that, i'm older than you,” you click your tongue. “second: why not? are you telling me to leave or what?”

“no, seriously. why?” gojo repeats.

at this, your brows crease together. why what? “because i was concerned?”

“why…” he sinks further into the counter, head in between his crossed arms, much like how he had looked when you first walked in.

“i don’t get what you're trying to… are you asking me why i’m concerned? well, why wouldn't i be? it's not like we're not friends outside of work. of course i’d—wait, where are you going?”

you quickly hop off the stool when the tall sorcerer abruptly stands up, now briskly walking away and heading towards the exit. you call him a couple more times but he doesn't bother to look back, and you resort to nearly running to be able to keep up with his freakishly long legs. right before he rounds the corner of the street, you harshly pull his wrist; at the contact, he jerks his head back, dull gray eyes flashing angrily.

“is that all you see me as?” he yells, his voice echoing through the dark, empty street. you’re taken aback by the harshness of his tone, letting go of his wrist in surprise. “tell me no. lie to me at this point. did all our nights spent together mean nothing at all? i was just a quick fix for you, wasn't i?” the volume of his voice raises even higher, and you frantically wave your hands at him to stop.

“no, that's not true! i—” now you understand why he's been drinking irresponsibly. fuck. if you knew this is how it’d end up, then you wouldn't have started anything with him in the first place. you don't regret anything, but is it really worth ruining your precious friendship? all the years of your youth shared together has now gone down the drain, all because of a couple of drunken nights?

“—then why don't you look at me the same way as you do with nanami?” he says, and your stomach drops. one look at your shocked expression and gojo already knows. he knows, yet he needs one last confirmation that comes directly from your mouth, no matter how excruciating it is. “tell me i’m wrong.”

“i’m sorry, go–”

“it’s satoru, damn it.” this time, he doesn't scream his words, nor does he ball his fists so tight that his knuckles blanch. instead, what comes out is merely a quiet, trembling whisper.

you wince at the sheer amount of emotion behind his words, the feeling of guilt heavy on your shoulders.

“listen to me, satoru. there's nothing going on with me and nanami. and what you and i both have– had, is in the past now. you know why we can't be together, right? i can't leave my dear students behind.” the two of you are well aware of that predicament; you and him can never have a real relationship, unless you're willing to risk relocation to kyoto prefecture.

would you really do that for someone you're not even 100% sure you're in love with?

“then stop pretending to care about me. stop doing all this like you mean it,” the white-haired male spits out. you look down, a hand reaching in your pocket for the discarded sunglasses you've picked up earlier, gently placing the pitch black lenses over gojo’s face.

you want to say it's for his sake, but truthfully, you just can't bear to look him in the eyes anymore.

“but that's the thing; i do care about you. and i never stopped caring about you. you're such a great person, satoru,” you assure him with a much softer tone. before you know it, you're reaching towards his face—however, as soon as you made contact, your palm seems to burn from realization (of him further misunderstanding your actions? of you knowing your place?), making you quickly retract your fingers.

you pretend you don't see him chasing after your touch.

“please believe me when i say this,” you continue. “you deserve someone who's just as kind as you, someone who actually deserves your love, and i’m not that person—”

“kiss me.” you nearly lose your balance as he suddenly places his hands on your hips, pulling you close to him, his voice breaking as he pleads. you're glad you can't see his eyes anymore—it might shatter your already fragile resolve even more. “i don't care. i don't care if you're not the right person, or if you think you're undeserving of my love. none of that has ever mattered to me. so please, kiss me. just one more time.”

huffs of your breaths mix together, faint white clouds forming in the chilly night. your heart shivers with anticipation as your gaze lingers on his soft, familiar lips for a moment too long.

one,

two,

three.

“…i can't. i'm sorry, gojo.”

for being the strongest sorcerer alive, he’s undeniably and pathetically weak when it comes to you. for being the strongest, he can't even snap that thin, flimsy cord, unable to sever that invisible string that ties you both together.

gojo hates drinking, but he would down glass after glass until his body gives up before his mind does. he absolutely hates drinking, but he hates uncertainty and loss of control even more.

[moonywritez6]

When You're Gone Part 2 (Reupload)

Characters: Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Choso

Reader: Fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, readers death, violence, blood, swearing, pet names, fire

Context: The reader ends up dying due to sorcerers, and villagers. This is their reaction after you are gone. (Witch!reader for Sukuna)

Word Count: 4,677

A/N: Hello my sweets! Unfortunately, I got locked out of my old blog account, so I had to make a new one! So, chances of you having seen this before are high as it's on my old account! (I am so sad about it honestly). But I am going through all my old accounts posts and reuploading them here! I hope you can still enjoy my works!

Part 1

______________________________________________________________

Toji

Toji sighed as he walked into the abandoned building where he was supposed to meet with Shiu. 'What a pain.' Toji thought, interested in something other than what Shiu had to discuss with him. Toji was considering skipping the meeting altogether if it wasn't for you. Toji smirked at the thought of your shy smile, ready to hear your sweet voice scold him for zoning out while your colleague was trying to discuss business with him. The memory brings a slight chuckle to his throat as he places a hand behind his neck, letting out a loud yawn as he notices Shiu standing there. Alone. 

Toji hums, stopping a few paces in front of the detective. "Hm? What, did little Miss Tiger decide to skip out on us today?" He teased, knowing you hated the nickname he had assigned you due to your stern personality. Shiu just stared at the assassin with a sad look as he sighed deeply, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "That's actually why I called you out today…." He tossed the cigarette on the ground, Toji watching as he stomped it with his foot. "As of three days ago, Y/l/n Y/n was killed in her home by a wanted sorcerer she had was assigned to," Shiu said while making direct eye contact with Toji. 

"What?" Toji asked, his eyes narrowing as a frown adorned his face. Shiu just sighed, knowing that Toji didn't believe his words. "Y/l/n Y/n is dead." Toji's fists clenched as he went and roughly grabbed Shiu by the collar, his face inches from the detectives. "Quit yer fucking bullshit and tell me the truth. Cause I ain't finding this joke funny." Toji growled, his neck flexing as a vein appeared on his right temple. Shiu didn't back down as he stared at Toji with serious eyes. Toji clicks his tongue as he tosses Shiu away before turning on his heel to leave the building. "Fushiguro!" Shiu called out, not having finished everything he wanted to say to the assassin. Toji ignored him as he pulled his phone out angrily, dialing your number and pressing it to his ear, waiting for your voice to pick up on the other end. 

The number you have dialed is not available; please-

Toji cursed quickly, hanging up the phone as he continued to call your number multiple times. "Fucking brat answer the phone." He hissed, walking past numerous people on the streets. Just as Toji was about to call you again, he caught a glimpse of a familiar face from the corner of his eye. Toji stopped in place, his phone now resting at his side still open as he stared at the TV inside a small store. There was a news channel with a small picture of you with the caption, 'Local woman found dead in her apartment. Cause of death: a giant hole through the chest.' Toji's mouth opened slightly, his eyes wide in disbelief. 

Once your picture was no longer on the screen, Toji cursed to himself as he quickly returned home. Once home, Toji slammed the door as hard as he could, not even bothering to turn on the lights before throwing everything in his line of sight, trashing his apartment as he yelled multiple curses. 

_____

Days have passed since Toji was hit with the news of your horrible death. Your funeral was two days later, but Toji never went. He refused, thinking that if he went and saw your name on one of those damned stones, every person he came in contact with would be killed on sight. It wasn't like the two of you had been dating for long, about a year, to be exact. Toji had many girlfriends and flings before meeting you, so he never cared when they would turn up missing or disappear without anyone knowing. However, when it came to you, it was different. What Toji felt for you was similar to when he lost his wife. 

Toji sat on the floor of his apartment; broken items littered the room as the lights remained off. A slight glow lit up the room as Toji saw his phone ringing. He lifted it to see Shiu's contact appear on the screen. Growling in annoyance, he flipped the phone on, pressing it to his ear. "What?" He snapped his voice slightly horse from having yelled so much before. "You sound awful. Have you been taking care of yourself at all?" Toji groans as he presses his thumb and pointer finger to his eyes. He applies pressure as he rubs them, feeling how tired his eyelids are as the dark circles slightly appear from the phone's light. "Get to the point. I'm in no mood." He grumbled while pulling another cigarette from his pocket. 

"You weren't at Y/n's funeral." Shiu was blunt and to the point, causing Toji to grunt as he placed the stick between his lips. "So what? I don't need to make an appearance around people who I never fucking saw once around her." He spat while patting his pockets to find his lighter. It wasn't entirely an excuse. When Toji and you started dating, he had never met anyone who claimed to care for you. Shiu didn't say anything momentarily, causing Toji to furrow his brows in annoyance. "Anything else?" He growled, not wanting to be on the phone any longer. "We're still looking for the man who killed her. I promise Toji he will be found and punished." Shiu claimed with total confidence. Toji's eyes narrowed as he listened to those words; scoffing, he tried lighting the cigarette. "Oh, you're damn right he will be…. I'm going to fucking kill him. That's my promise." Before Shiu can say anything else, Toji hangs up, tossing the phone randomly. 

Toji sits there; brows furrowed in annoyance as he flicks at the lighter, growing increasingly agitated with it not working. "Tch. Fucking useless-!" Toji goes to throw the lighter but stops when he notices what one is in his hand. He freezes, staring at the small item, remembering when you had given it to him as a gift. 

____

You and Toji were out discussing business when it suddenly started to rain down, causing the two of you to get soaked as you ran for cover. The two of you sigh as you watch the rain fall from where you now stand, soaking wet. "Geez! The forecast said nothing about rain!" You whined angrily, scrolling through your phone as you double-checked the weather. Toji grunted as he ran a hand through his hair, watching the water droplets fly off. "I should've packed an umbrella…." You whispered in thought, brows furrowed, a slight pout on your lips. Toji internally chuckled, finding your expressions amusing. 

You were always frowning or having some angry tick whenever something didn't go as planned, or you would get mad, which caused him to love teasing you every chance he could. "Well~ well~ it looks like miss organized and plans ahead failed once again~" He teased, a sly grin on his face as he went and pulled out a cigarette. You looked at him, eye twitching as he placed it between his lips. He looks down at you curiously before grinning, one brow raised. "Got something to say, tiger?" He questioned, raising his lighter. You click your tongue, looking away from him. "As if I would have anything to say to such a rude man!" You scoffed, earning a chuckle. 

It went silent between the two of you. The only sounds heard were the falling rain and the clicking of Toji's lighter. You glanced up, noticing the annoyed look on the taller man's face as he grunted, trying to get it to light. The two of you stood like that momentarily before you thought of something. “One moment, Fushiguro! I'll be right back!" You announced suddenly, running to the convenience store across the street. Toji stood there, confused momentarily, before trying the lighter again. After a few more tries, he curses, tossing the small contraption to the ground and taking the cigarette out of his mouth. 

He watches the convenience store waiting for your small form to appear in the doors. When you finally come out, he takes notice of the umbrella in your hand as You quickly run across the street, standing in front of him again. You look at him, a small pant leaving your lips as you hold your fist out to him. He looks at you curiously but complies, holding one of his giant hands out for you. You place the lighter in his hand, surprising him with the sudden gesture. "You didn't have to do that tiger." He mumbled but still went and used the lighter for his cigarette, nodding in approval. 

You just laughed, placing a hand behind your neck as you smiled, a slight blush on your cheeks. "Well, consider it as my apology gift to you!" You laughed shyly. "Apology? For what?" He mumbled, leaning back against the building under which you both had taken shelter. You just smiled a bright smile, a blush coating your cheeks as you held a finger up to your lips as if telling him not to spill a secret. 

"For forming a crush on you of course!" 

_____

Toji sat there, eyes covered by his messy bangs as he gripped the lighter. "Damn tiger…" He cursed as he forcefully tried to flick the lighter on again, this time not stopping as his body began to shake. “Fuck Y/n….” He looked up with tears running down his face as he bit the cigarette as hard as he could. 

"Come back and declare your love for me over and over again, dammit." 

Sukuna

You were known as the witch of the woods. No one entered those woods fearing being cursed or killed in horrible, gruesome ways. However, that was far from the truth, as you were a sweet and docile woman who only wished to heal and create with your magic. You and Sukuna had first met when he had entered the woods in search of your magical abilities. When he showed up at your small hut in the woods, you were surprised, not by his fearful appearance but by his giant wound in his side, causing immense amounts of blood to gush out. Sukuna watched you quickly drop the items you were holding as you ran to him, your small frame inches from his intimidating one. He flinched as you placed your tiny hands around the wounded area, eyes scanning the injury with deep concentration. 

Sukuna frowned at you, not liking how you didn't cower in his presence or even acknowledge his fearful appearance. He roughly grabbed your hand with one of his own, pulling it up so you were forced to look up at his face, each eye holding a murderous glare. "Oi, pitiful witch of the woods. Who do you think you are to approach me like this?" He hissed; a voice filled with venom. You just looked at his eyes, showing no fear as you said nothing. You went and placed a hand on his wound, chanting in a language he was not familiar with. 

Sukuna watched as the wound healed faster than he could regenerate it. He hummed in amusement while looking down at you with a dark smirk. You just looked at him, your aura tense and powerful. "I am not afraid of curses." You declared a voice so elegant it made his ears ring. He laughed loudly, causing you to flinch at the sudden noise covering one of your ears in pain. Sukuna pulls you closer to him, faces inches apart as he looks at you with a deranged smile. "You're such an amusing witch of the woods…. It makes me want to play with you more before ending your pathetic and weak life." He laughed, looking deep into your eyes. 

Sukuna became enthralled by your talents, watching you cast spells he didn't know or ever heard of. You taught him some of the magic you knew over time, informing him of the repercussions of some of the spells. He would listen carefully, wanting to know everything if it meant his chances of gaining even more power. The two of you were complete opposites, so it was strange how you became so close. You never understood why a man filled with nothing, but murderous and selfish intent could ever want with someone like you who wished for peace and never had any selfish desire. 

"We don't share much in common, do we?" Sukuna grunted one day when the two of you sat outside. You looked at him, tilting your head as you continued to mix some herbs for a new medicine you were working on. "You're just realizing this now, Sukuna-san." Your laugh was so soft that it made Sukuna feel a tingle in his chest. "Tch. Do you finally want to die?" He grumbled, giving you a slight glare as he flicked your forehead, his other arms crossed over his chest while the fourth one scratched the back of his head. You whine as you hold your forehead, a giant pout on your face. "So weak." He teased, "Like I said, not much in common." He shrugged, looking away from you to stare at the setting sun. 

"Indeed, we don't share much in common, but…. there is one thing we will have until the day comes when we die." You whispered while placing a handout towards the setting sun with a sad look on your face. "Oh? And what would that be?" Sukuna hummed, interested in your words, as he glanced down at you in wonder. Though small, Sukuna could see the sad and lonely smile on your lips. "The world will hate us…never to be accepted for what we are." Your words took a moment to sink in for Sukuna. He hummed, his expression unreadable. 

Suddenly, he was placing both his right arms towards the sunset like you. "Even if that's true… I'll always accept you for what you are." He mumbled. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, lips slightly parted. He made no effort to look at you as his eyes stayed fixed on the changing colors in the sky. "Sukuna-san…" you felt your heart racing as heat started to sneak onto your face. Suddenly, he looked at you with an annoyed look, brows furrowed in confusion and annoyance as he went and hit your head. "Also, who the hell do you think will be dying?! Damn stupid witch!" He yelled, causing you to cry while he just shoved the herbs you had been mixing down your throat. 

_______

The king of curses couldn't believe his eyes and ears as he stood in place, body in complete shock. Down below him was a village just outside the woods he had grown to call home. There, in the center of said village, stood a huge crowd of angry and fearful villagers, each one cheering or chanting multiple curses into the air as they looked at the giant fire that rose into the sky, turning the once beautiful sunset view into a clouded gray sky. However, it wasn't the villagers that were causing the fear in Sukuna's heart and soul. Oh no. It was the screams of his lover, whose shadow was seen thrashing within the flames tied to a giant pole. 

"Stop it! Please! What did I do wrong?! Please tell me!" You cried from the flames. Sukuna's fists started dripping blood as all the blood vessels in each of his eyes burst. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You apologized to the villagers who relished in your pain and suffering. He was seeing red. Before anyone could process anything, Sukuna was brutally murdering every one of the villagers, ensuring they didn't die without immense pain. His shouts and feral laughter were the last thing to curse their ears. Soon, the village was nothing more than a blood bath. Sukuna stood there, blood dripping from every part of his body as he looked down at the burnt body in front of him. 

He doesn't say anything as he kneels carefully, picking up your body with all four arms staying there, making sure your body is as close as possible to his as he grits his teeth before screaming into the sky cursing the entire world. 

_____

"Hey Sukuna, do you believe in soulmates?" You asked while reading from that mysterious book of yours. "Huh? Soulmates? I know I joke about you being stupid but I'm starting to think that you really are." He said, looking at you annoyed. You frown at him going and whispering a small spell, causing the tea he was drinking to spray up while he went to take a sip. You stand there, mouth covered with one hand, trying to hold your laughs back.

Meanwhile, Sukuna gave you the most sadistic look you could ever imagine, tea dripping from his face. "Y/n~" He sang in a deadly tune. You cringe as you cower in the corner, waving your hands in front of you frantically. 

"SUKUNA IT WAS A JOKE!" You cried while he stood there cracking his knuckles, a dark aura surrounding him. "I just wanted to see if you would help me with this old spell I found!" You squealed, bracing yourself for what was to come. When nothing happened, you peeked from behind your fingers. "Eh?" You asked confused. Sukuna just stood there looking down at you with a curious expression. "An old spell?" He questioned, bending down to your height and tilting his head in thought. "About soulmates?" You nod "mhm!" "You want to see if we're soulmates?" You nod proudly, arms crossed over your chest. Sukuna smirks as he watches his words slowly process for you. A deep blush covers your cheeks as you stammer over your words, trying to defend yourself while he laughs, finding the situation amusing. He rests his head on one of his fists as he crouches before you. "Then do it." He said, a cocky smirk on his face. "I wanna see…if you're my soulmate witch of the woods." You blushed tears from embarrassment in the corners of your eyes as you looked away quickly, getting everything you needed for the spell. Sukuna didn't move; he just stayed in place, watching you place all the items in front of him before sitting on the other side. 

"Okay! Ready?" You ask, a shy smile on your face. Sukuna hums, holding an arm out as he pricks some skin, watching the drop of blood fall into the bowl. You carefully do the same thing, neither of you saying a word. "How will we know?" He mumbles, not looking away from the bowl. "According to the spell, if you're soulmates, then both of you will suddenly have-!" You stop noticing the black tattoos form on your wrists along with others. You quickly looked up at Sukuna, seeing the same thing happen to him, only his markings were slightly different. The two of you stare at each other in shock. "...markings…" You whispered, a slight blush on your cheeks. Sukuna stares at you, eyes still slightly wide, before kissing you deeply. 

You squeak, feeling his hands start to feel up and down your body, not in a lustful way but in what feels like a devoted one. "My soulmate…my witch of the woods…your soul belongs only to me." He whispered, kissing up your neck before reaching your lips. You just giggled while placing your hand on his cheek, a soft smile on your face. "Sukuna-san…thank you for allowing me your soul… it's my greatest treasure."

______

"OI! SUKUNA!" Sukuna slowly opened his eyes, staring at the bottom of his throne. 'Ah, that's right…the kid is crying about helping that damn friend of his…tch. Not my fault he got his soul changed.' Sukuna thought, uninterested in what Yuji yelled at him. He just sighed before noticing a small tear falling from his eye. He swipes it away while looking at the markings on his wrist. He smiled a small smile, something that no one in the world would ever see besides one person, and she was gone. Sukuna placed a gentle kiss on the tattoos. 

"My soul yearns for you my Queen…my soul…one that only you can have and touch…my Y/n…" 

Choso

Choso fell against the wall, tears streaming down his face as he stared at the flower, eyes wide in shock. His mouth opened to scream, cry, yell, but nothing came out. He grips both sides of his head and slowly shakes it before squeezing his eyes shut, the tears appearing to get worse. Choso opens his eyes, glancing to his left to see the broken pieces of what was once a cursed item that informed him of your well-being. The two of you decided to get them when Choso started to fear for your safety after the deaths of his two younger brothers. He remembers your gentle smile as you happily agreed to his request, telling him you would do anything to ensure his mind was at ease. 

When he processed the broken pieces once again, signaling that you were no longer in this world with him, Choso snapped, his eyes practically rolling back as he screamed until it felt like his lungs would tear from his chest. "Why?! Why?! I don't understand why she was only gone for two days!" He screamed to himself while rolling around on the floor like a madman, the tears never-ending. First, his brothers and now his lover, all three gone from his side within a blink. "How could I fail to protect my family?!" Choso felt his fingers dig into the flesh of his face, tiny beads of blood appearing here and there. "Y/n! Y/n!" Choso reached for the broken pieces, his body soon becoming still as he grits his teeth, his eyes leaking tears. 

"My beautiful sweet bleeding heart…tell me it's a lie…you said you would be right back by my side." Choso sobbed as he held the broken cursed object to his chest while staring at the night sky. Choso's mind runs wild as he asks himself so many questions about your death. 'Was she scared? Did she suffer? Was it peaceful? Did they torture you? Did you cry? Smile? Were you lonely? Did you wish for him to save you?' all these thoughts ran through his head as he cried into the night. After some time, Choso quieted down, slowly rising to his feet as he stomped to his family's home, your home, no, to his home. He said nothing, his eyes void of any light as he lifted his head to the sky like a zombie, watching as snow started to fall. 'It's so cold tonight, Y/n….' He thought his hand subconsciously opened as if ready to take another's smaller one.  

_______

"Choso! Can I have a hug?!" You cheered, standing before your cursed boyfriend with a giant smile as you held your arms wide open. Choso just looked at you from his seat, tilting his head in confusion. "But didn't I just give you one five minutes ago?" he asked, not understanding why you wanted another one. You smile at him, slightly jumping in your step as you lean forward, arms still open, awaiting his embrace. "So?! What if I want to hug you every five minutes? You hurt me, my blood lotus." you whispered a slight pout on your cheeks. Choso flinches as he quickly goes and wraps you in his loving embrace. "I could never dream of such a thing. Me? Hurt you? I would rather die my bleeding heart." He whispers while inhaling the smell of your shampoo you knew he loved. 

"I love everything about you, my sweet flower." he caressed your cheek, a tiny blush on his cheeks as he avoided eye contact, still too embarrassed. You just giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck when he went to pull away from the hug. You hum, pressing your forehead to his as you force him to look into your eyes. You smile, eyes as bright as the day he met you. "Your eyes are so beautiful…" You whispered, gently placing the pads of your thumbs onto his dark circles, giving a small massage to the flesh. Choso lets out a small moan of approval as he carefully caresses one of your wrists with his fingers barely grazing your skin. "My bleeding heart…" You watched as Choso placed tender kisses on your wrist, his eyes glancing at you with much love and admiration. 

"Does this makeup for me hurting you earlier? Or do you wish for more?" He whispered, his thumb slowly dragging down your bottom lip, causing you to blush at his sudden boldness as you quickly jumped away, hiding your face. "T-that's perfectly fine! I'm already way better! I promise!" You stumble over your words, causing a gentle smile to caress Choso's face. "I adore you." He whispered honestly. "I-I get it!" you cried, covering his mouth with your hands. He laughs, loving how cute you are being. Choso pushes back a strand of your hair once you remove your hands from his mouth. "There's just one thing I'll never understand," he confessed, ensuring that you looked presentable when you had to go outside on your next assignment. "Hm? What is it?" You asked, tilting your head as you interlocked your fingers with his. "This," he confessed, gesturing to your hands holding one another. 

"You always want to hug or touch me in some way almost every second of the day. I am not complaining, of course…as I love you and…" he trailed off, growing shy at his words before clearing his throat. "I guess I just don't get why that is all." He admitted with a slight nod. You hum a smile as you lean back slightly, tilting your head to the side, eyes closed in thought. "Well…I guess it's because…for me I feel like if I don't keep touching you, you'll disappear from my side forever. So I want to ensure you're still with me in this world, Choso." You confessed this time using his name instead of your chosen nickname for him. Choso blushes before smiling as he lets out a tiny laugh while going to ruffle your hair. 

"Haha! You're so silly! I'll really never understand you Y/n." he confessed lovingly. You just looked up at him with your biggest smile, a deep blush on your cheeks as you placed a kiss on his lips. "I love you so, so much my bloody Lotus!" You cheered, and Choso could practically see just how pure and true your love for him was while looking into your eyes. 

_______

Choso stood in the doorway of your once-shared bedroom. His drained facial expression scanned the entire area, ensuring he took everything in, wanting to remember this room with all your shared belongings for the rest of his life. Choso lays down on the shared bed, making sure he curls up into a bawl as he shakily reaches for your pillow and your side of the blanket, bringing both pieces of fabric next to him, squeezing like they, too, would vanish from his grasp. Choso inhales your scent, tears falling from his face, drenching your once favorite pillow as he shoves his face into it, not wanting to forget your smell once it no longer remains in the place you two called home. 

"I wish you were here, my bleeding heart…I want to feel you next to me…I need you next to me." Choso cries, his entire body shaking as his mind fails to accept what has happened. Guilt soon fills his heart as he lets out a heart-wrenched sob, squeezing his eyes closed. "I'm sorry I didn't always hug and touch you whenever you were near me…maybe if I did…would you not have disappeared from my side Y/n? Are you gone because of me?" 

[adiraargent]

Hiya! Can I request Aomine watching his gfs basketball game and she goes for a rebound and got it but the other team reaches over her head grabbing the ball and slamming her to the ground? How would He react and stuff?

Hot Chocolate - Daiki Aomine

wc: 2.6k warnings: fluff, established relationship, protective Aomine Summary: you're doing your best to win your basketball game but one girl really seems to have it out for you.

Daiki Aomine stood at the sidelines, his eyes fixed on the basketball court, where his girlfriend was showcasing her skills. It was an unspoken thing between the two of you where you would both watch all of each other's games (unless something really important came up).

The gymnasium hummed with the excitement of the game, the fervor of the players palpable in the air. It was the fourth quarter and the scores were pretty close but the other team was in the lead by 2 points.

You were relentless on the court, your determination evident in every move you made and Daiki could see it. Aomine watched you with a mix of pride and admiration, impressed by your agility and skill. He knew you were great at basketball, but you never failed to amaze him, there was just something about the way that you moved. Elegance.

You moved with grace, anticipation in your eyes as you chased after the rebound. The ball sailed through the air, and you sprang into action, leaping with impressive athleticism to grab the rebound. For a moment, it seemed like you had secured it, but in a split second, an opponent stretched over you, snatching the ball away.

The collision was sudden, jarring. A gasp rippled through the spectators as you hit the ground with a thud, your body skidding slightly from the impact. You grimaced at the impact, multiple parts of your body searing in pain. You looked up at the girl, thinking that maybe she would apologise, but she just looked down at you with a small smirk before jogging off.

Aomine's heart skipped a beat, his eyes widening in concern as he saw you sprawled on the floor. He clenched his fists, he was about to jump the sideline and go give the girl a piece of his mind but was stopped by Kise.

"Hey Aomine-chi, she'll be fine, she can take care of herself. Besides, you cant exactly go storm up to a girl and start yelling at her," Kise told his idol, hoping that he would understand.

Aomine scoffed, "i can if she pushed my girl to the ground," he snapped and went to go again but was stopped once more by Kise

"You know she wouldnt want you too," Kise said, and Aomine knew he was right, he was just so angry though. He watched, his gaze never leaving you, a mix of worry and anger simmering beneath the surface.

You lay there for a moment, wincing in pain, but determination burned in your eyes. You pushed yourself up, refusing to let the fall shake you. Aomine's heart swelled with pride at your resilience, the way you refused to let the setback break your spirit.

There was just something so hot about how determined you were.

Your eyes met from across the court, and in that silent exchange, Aomine conveyed his concern and support. His gaze was intense, a silent promise that he was there for you, that he believed in your strength and resilience.

That instantly made you feel ten times better.

With a nod, you signalled to your teammates that you were alright, ready to continue. Aomine felt a surge of admiration for you as you brushed off the fall and got back into the game. He knew you were a fighter, determined and unyielding.

The game resumed, and Aomine remained rooted at the sidelines, his eyes solely on you. He watched your movements, the way you sprinted, defended, and attacked, a small grin on his handsome face as he watched you.

As the clock ticked away and the game reached its peak, Aomine's pride for you swelled. He watched you shoot yet another 3 pointer, a wide grin crossing over your face as you did a small little dance, happy that you were now in the lead and in that moment, Aomine knew he would always be there, silently cheering you on, ready to offer his unwavering support whenever you needed it.

Aomine's heart raced as he continued to watch you on the court. Despite the fall from before, you moved with determination, your focus undeterred. He clenched his fists, feeling a mixture of worry and admiration for your resilience.

You were in your element, dribbling the ball down the court with finesse. Your movements were calculated, your eyes scanning the court for an opportunity. You darted past opponents, your agility a testament to your skill and dedication.

As you went for a layup, Aomine held his breath, his eyes fixated on your every move. The opponents closed in, attempting to block your shot, but you maneuvered with precision, your focus unwavering.

Almost there

The ball left your fingertips, soaring through the air toward the hoop. Aomine's heart leaped with anticipation, the suspense palpable. The ball hit the backboard, teetering on the rim for a split second before finally dropping through the net.

Thank god. This is what you loved... that feeling of getting the ball in the net, this is why you played the game.

The crowd erupted into cheers, but Aomine's attention remained solely on you. You flashed him a happy smile, a glint of satisfaction in your eyes as you hustled back on defence.

Aomine felt a surge of pride and excitement as he watched you play. The game continued at a feverish pace, each possession crucial. You dove for loose balls, defended fiercely, and orchestrated plays with finesse.

Minutes turned into seconds as the game drew to a close. The score was neck and neck, the tension in the gymnasium palpable. Aomine's heart pounded in rhythm with the seconds ticking away on the clock.

You were everywhere on the court, hustling and giving it your all. You made a crucial steal, sprinting down the court with determination. With a swift move, you drove to the basket, drawing a foul from your opponent as they hit you while trying to get the ball.

The referee's whistle blew, signaling free throws for you. Aomine's eyes widened in anticipation. This was a pivotal moment in the game, and he knew you had nerves of steel, but even he was getting slightly nervous, though he had full confidence in your abilities.

You stepped up to the free-throw line, the weight of the game resting on your shoulders. The gymnasium fell silent as you dribbled the ball, your focus unwavering. You took a deep breath, then released the shot with precision.

The ball sailed through the air, the sound of the swoosh filling the gymnasium. Aomine's heart soared with pride as the crowd erupted into cheers. You had sunk both shots, putting their team in the lead.

Aomine's eyes never left you, his heart bursting with admiration.

The game's intensity soared as the clock dwindled down to its final moments. Aomine's focus remained steadfast on you, who hustled back on defense, your determination unwavering despite the physical altercation earlier.

Suddenly, a scuffle erupted near the basket. A player from the opposing team, the same one who had collided with you earlier, made a reckless play, shoving you in an attempt to gain possession of the ball. You stumbled back, your footing faltering as you tried to regain balance.

Aomine's eyes blazed with fury at the sight. His fists clenched, and his muscles tensed with an anger he struggled to contain. The referee blew the whistle, calling a foul on the opposing player, but Aomine's focus remained on you, concern etched into every fiber of his being.

You staggered for a moment but steadied yourself, refusing to let the fall hinder you. Aomine's heart pounded with a mix of worry and rage, his protective instincts on high alert.

The opposing player's actions were reckless and unnecessary, and Aomine's blood boiled with anger. He knew you could handle yourself, but the thought of anyone laying a hand on you, especially on purpose, infuriated him beyond measure.

From the sidelines, Aomine's gaze burned with intensity. He locked eyes with you, silently conveying his concern and his unspoken promise to make sure the offender would face the consequences.

You caught his gaze. You nodded subtly, acknowledging his support, and then turned your focus back to the game.

Aomine's fists remained clenched, his gaze fixed on the court. The game continued, each possession escalating the tension. He watched as you sprinted up and down the court.

The final buzzer echoed through the gymnasium, signaling the end of the game. Your team emerged victorious, but Aomine's mind was clouded with a singular thought—the player who had roughed you up needed to be dealt with.

As the teams shook hands, Aomine's eyes bore into the player in question, a simmering anger beneath his controlled demeanor. He held back, letting you handle the situation, but his glare spoke volumes, a silent warning of the consequences should such reckless behavior repeat.

You approached him, a happy look in your eyes. "I'm okay, Daiki. Don't worry," she assured him, sensing his anger.

Aomine's expression softened slightly at your words, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. "I know you are, but that was uncalled for," he replied in a firm tone, his protectiveness evident in his voice.

"Ill be back, gotta go talk to the coach," you place a quick kiss on his lips and then run back to your team

He kept a watchful eye on the player who had caused the collision, his jaw clenched, a silent promise lingering in his intense gaze. He wouldn't let anyone hurt you without facing the consequences, and that player was going to learn it the hard way.

Aomine kept a watchful eye on you, observing your interactions with your teammates and opponents. His protective instincts were still on high alert, his gaze occasionally flickering towards the player who had caused the collision.

As you made your way off the court, Aomine approached you, his concern evident in his eyes. "Are you really okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

You smiled, though there was a hint of fatigue in your eyes. "I'm fine, Daiki. It's nothing I can't handle," you reassured him, placing a hand on his arm. You knew his protectiveness was a sign of his care and concern for you.

"Thanks you two for coming," you gave Kise a small smile before wrapping your arm around Aomine's waist and pulling yourself against his side.

Aomine exhaled, trying to ease the tension coiling within him. He glanced once more at the player, who was surrounded by teammates and coaches. His expression hardened, his protectiveness still burning within him.

As the player conversed with their team, Aomine's gaze bore into them, a silent warning simmering in his intense stare. He remained at your side, his arm instinctively drawing you closer in a protective gesture.

You glanced up at Aomine, catching the fiery intensity in his eyes. Sensing his silent promise, you gently squeezed his hand, silently conveying your appreciation for his concern and protection.

Your teammate called out to you, "y/n! you gotta come back, we're doing the end formalities!'

"I'll be back in a sec. Gotta go say thank you for the game and stuff," you sigh, leaned in, pressing a quick, reassuring kiss on his lips before darting back toward your team.

Aomine watched you go, his eyes tracking your every move, ensuring you were safe even in the midst of the post-game interactions. His jaw clenched, a subtle sign of his unease with the situation.

You navigated through the crowd of players and officials, your mind focused on expressing gratitude for the game. Yet, you couldn't shake off the feeling of discomfort caused by the player's earlier actions.

Approaching the opposing team's area, you maintained a composed demeanor, nodding politely as you exchanged words of appreciation with the coach and some of the players. However, your gaze lingered on the player who had caused the collision, a mixture of emotions swirling within you.

You offered a polite yet cool thank-you to the player, masking the underlying tension you felt. Their response was casual, almost dismissive, which only added to the unease simmering in the back of your mind.

As you turned to walk away, a voice cut through the air, "Hey, y/n, wait up a sec."

You halted, glancing back to see the player approaching you. Your guard went up instinctively, but you maintained a composed exterior.

"I just wanted to say, sorry about the collision back there. It's part of the game, you know?" the player shrugged, their tone lacking genuine remorse.

Your jaw tightened, but you managed a tight-lipped smile, masking the flicker of frustration. "Yeah, it happens. No hard feelings," you replied diplomatically, not wanting to escalate the situation.

Turning on your heel, you swiftly made your way back to where Aomine stood, his eyes locked on you. You could sense his tension, his protective instincts flaring up in response to the encounter.

Aomine met you halfway, concern etched in his features. "Everything alright?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of worry and restrained anger.

You nodded, trying to dispel the tension. "Just some post-game formalities. Let's get out of here," you suggested, taking his hand and leading the way, eager to put the unsettling encounter behind you.

Aomine followed, his protective instincts still on high alert as he kept a watchful eye on your surroundings. You moved closer to him, seeking comfort in his presence, grateful for his silent support. Together, you walked away, leaving the gymnasium behind and focusing on the comfort of each other's company.

As you walked away from the gymnasium, the weight of the unsettling encounter slowly faded, replaced by the comforting feeling of Aomine's hand in yours. His protective stance eased, but he maintained a watchful eye, ensuring your safety as you made your way out.

The cool evening air greeted you outside, a welcome contrast to the intensity of the game. Aomine glanced down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he noticed you shivering slightly.

"Here," he said softly, slipping off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders, his touch warm against your skin.

You looked up at him, a faint blush dusting your cheeks at the gesture. "You'll be cold," you protested softly, though you couldn't deny the comfort of his jacket.

Aomine chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. "I'll survive. Just take it," he insisted, adjusting the jacket around you with a gentle tug.

You relented, allowing the jacket to envelop you in its warmth, feeling a sense of coziness that had nothing to do with the fabric itself. The scent of his cologne lingered, a comforting reminder of his presence.

As you walked side by side, the quietude of the evening setting in, Aomine spoke up. "You handled that well back there. But if that chick steps out of line again, I won't hold back," he said, his voice carrying a protective undertone.

You glanced at him, touched by his protectiveness. "I know. But let's not dwell on that. I'd rather focus on having you here," you said, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Aomine's gaze softened, a fondness in his eyes. "Yeah, I'd rather focus on that too," he admitted, his tone warmer.

The two of you continued your stroll, the tension from earlier dissipating with each step.

As you reached a nearby park, the familiar sight of twinkling lights from the nearby cafe caught your eye. Aomine followed your gaze, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

"Hot chocolate?" he suggested, a playful grin forming on his lips.

Your eyes lit up, a smile spreading across your face. "Yes, please!" you replied eagerly, the thought of warm drinks on a chilly evening appealing to both your senses and your heart.

Hand in hand, you made your way to the cozy cafe, the chilly evening forgotten in the warmth of each other's company. The promise of a comforting drink and shared moments ahead filled you both with a sense of contentment, strengthening the bond that was as warm and comforting as the hot chocolate awaiting you.

Written by adiraargent Do not copy, steal or repost on other platforms Requests open

[edajcheel]

Yandere! Overlord! Leech Brothers take in Villainess! MC after she's been discarded by her family

(TAGS: yandere, manipulation, poison, 18th century, cheating, MC is kinda detached, mentions of blood, the leech twins are lowkey mean, Floyd is obsessed with you and Jade is entertained by you. But both love you dearly!)

(A/N) : been very occupied with college.. But on another note, hopefully my fanfic writing hasn't become dusty!

Imagine this,

The notorious wild hound of the Night Raven Empire. A very well known nickname, throughout the capital and underground, and even in the battlefield. An arrogant, ruthless, and fickle young woman. Anything that slights her ends up getting crushed in her grasp, torn apart and disposed.

Nothing could be unseen with her hawk-like eyes. Perceptive, and sharp.

One would never talk about her greed, an immense inability to let something go when shes shown interest in whatever it is. The result of having a diamond spoon shoved into your mouth after your born. The word, 'wild' describes it all, a stubborn wild hound, that has the capability of pulling the strings behind the curtain to get what she desires.

But just like a wild hound, she can't walk away from the urge to throw, shatter, and break whenever she's outplayed. The teacup that she treasured in her heart was left broken into meager pieces of glass, and the potted flowers that sat beside her bed was thrown across the room. The shattering and tearing upon the middle of her heart was as harmful as poison.

Ironic how the only word she can describe the ache- was 'poison'. The infuriating noise click, clack, and click of heels plays over and over like a broken record in your mind. The stunning light grey of the moon, somehow was brighter that night, gleamed on the forbidden lovers– twirling around on the terrace. So distracted by each other's company, they've yet to notice the girl– you –who was the main audience.

The scene distorted in your mind, and another scene was presented. Your eyes are casted upon the lowly girl on the ground– with her strings snapped. Blood crawling down the corner of her mouth– a result from the poison –and her barely alive eyes looking at you. The glass of red wine was but in mere pieces of shards on the ground, and the blood-like wine spilled. Your arrogant eyes look at her– blaming her– this happened because of your own actions.

"This was your plan all along-..!" The silvery and smooth voice of your fiancée was unrecognizable from all the heavy breathing of panic he was enduring. "Was it not obvious to your keen eyes?" You quirked your brow at him.

His light-grey eyes that you loved, never looked at you even at this moment, busy holding his other companion in his arms. You gritted your teeth, and clenched your fist in pure rage. The realization hit you instantly, his sincereness and gentleness was never real– at least never towards you. The tea both of you shared, the times both of you would unite hands at the entry way of multiple balls, the longing letters– nothing was real. It was just an illusion.

Like a tool, used and discarded.

Like a villainess, just an obstacle to their story.

Like an unfortunate soul, never truly wanted.

Like a criminal, awaiting to be beheaded.

The wild hound sat on her bed, the only thing neat in her trashed room. The portrait of you and Azul were scratched, but the most damage was upon Azul's face. The teacup set– given by Azul –was on the ground replicating the broken wine glass on the terrance. The Hydrangea flowers– given by Azul –was on the other side of your room, ridden of its petals. Chairs, couched, and tables were flipped over. Anything you could have taken hold of, was trashed beyond repair.

"Of all things, you decided to poison that lowly baron girl?" Your dad grumbled under his breath, disappointed. "Whatever penalty you receive, do not drag me or your mother along with your foolish mess." He concludes and finally turns away from your back, slamming your doorway shut.

Over and over, hundreds to thousands, you couldn't count how many times you've caused uproar around the capital. Your irritation at the shopkeeper who didn't satisfy your standards was a victim to your anger, and so was the maids who had the nerve to act clumsy in your presence. Not even the butler was spared from your wrath. But the public had never paid a mind to you, always chalking it up as the wild hound being the same as ever. How very humourous.

Not even your parents paid a mind, no, they couldn't careless. They were already so used to your antics. They'd rather pay attention to your high intelligence, and your accomplishments rather than you in general. Of course, with a society always looking for fresh and new inventions and evolutions– it's a must to be smart so as to guarantee you won't fall behind.

But under unfortunate circumstances, you've finally arrived at your ending line. You've pulled the last straw, and now you'll reap what you sowed. You've done something so unforgivable that your parents have also given up on someone like you.

You've exhausted all your worth, and soon, your life will be taken away from your hands too. Truly, nothing to hold onto in this wrench world.

Your eyes –barely sparking with the same confident and sharp glint –dead and glazed out. You shift your weight off your bed, and walked towards your personal terrace, not bothering to check for any glittering shards of glass. You stride towards your balcony, resembling a lifeless corpse holding onto it's last strings.

The rain was softly drizzling onto your windows, creeping down to the ground. The wind piked up to it's highest volume once in a while. And, the moon, bright, and shimmering over the pitter patter of the rain floated above. Serene, and pleasant just like the eyes of the man who cheated on you.

The perfect calming shade of gray over the turmoil.

You pushed the door open, and walked out under the rain. The very cold droplets of water instantly targeted you, and without a doubt, in a few minutes– you would be soaked head to toe. You stood in the middle of your terrace, with your eyes gazing at calming moon.

Soon the turmoil around you was accompanied by your very own. Your tears were unseen, disguised as just another raindrop. But the agony on your face was apparent. Shortly, your legs had lost all the strength to hold your weight and you toppled onto the ground. The puddles of cold water splashed underneath you, and the rain was the only thing that kept you company while you weep under the moon.

"Oya, planning to neglect your side of the contract isn't a very honorable thing to do." A voice spoke, through the deafening rain. Somehow reaching the other man who stood a few feet away from him. "Sorry shrimpy, you can't die just yet, you still haven't fulfilled the contract!"

The unrelenting words fail to garner your attention. The combination of the loud rumbling of thunder and rain with your occupied mind block them out effortlessly.

Two pair of footsteps were unheard behind you, and a pair of hands– bare and cold –wrapped around one of your tangled strands and playfully twirled it around their finger. "Is shrimpy sad that her little partner cheated?~" He jabbed.

You limply turned your head to the left where you felt the motion, and you were met with glowing heterochromia eyes.

"Ya'know you deserve way better than what that bastard did to you." He hummed, and crept even closer towards your face. "He was just a lame ol' sticky octopus that's been in the mud for far too long~ Neh, Jade?"

The mirrored twin chuckled along with his dear twin's statement. "Eh, Floyd. Apologies, but I was truly unable to see what you thought so special of Duke Ashengrotto."

You were helpless to their tomfoolery, and weren't able to retort back with a snarky comment.

Jade raised his brow to your unusual behavior, "You're not as resistant to our comments as you were before. Have you been downgraded so badly because of the lost of your dear fiancee's love?"

Floyd let out a giggle at his brother's witty jest. "No worries~ we're still an option if you want our help, lil shrimpy!" He uses your head as a hand rest as he waits for your response.

But just like before, they were met with silence. No peep out of your tightly closed mouth underneath the company of the rain. Jade frowned at this, and came just as close as his brother was. He swiftly grabbed your chin and directed your eyes towards his.

"Just one word, and we won't hesitate to help you, under the conditions that you come with us, my dearest."

You took a breath, readying yourself for the inevitable. "I don't understand your thinking. I have not completed my first contract, and yet you propose another deal?" You slur your words due to your weariness. This time, you are the one who is met with silence. And you take it as a chance to complete your thought, "I will be sentenced to my execution in just a few hours. I won't be able to finish our still in-action contract. I apologize."

You are fully aware of the consequences of not completing your side of the contract, which was to marry Duke Azul Ashengrotto. They were the ones to hand you the poison, and you were the one who completely ruined the plan just because you weren't able to hold back your emotions. This contract was an utter failure, and you cursed yourself for thinking you were able to win back Azul.

"That's plenty enough for us. Neh Floyd?"

"Yup. We got our answer."

Huh? In the middle of your self-deprecating thoughts, you were interrupted by two men who nodded along with each other's statements. They both turned to you with devious grins, and stared at you.

"Hehe, your face is really adorable when your confused shrimpy. You look constipated~" You quite literally choke on your own spit in surprise to Floyd's offhanded remark. "Eh? Don't worry, we'll let you into our secret! Enough with the long face." Floyd gripped your cheeks with his hands roughly and wiped it as if he was truly trying to wipe your ever-increasing frown off your face.

While you were distracted by Floyd, Jade sneaked up behind you. You flinch as you felt him nonchalantly rest his palm on your shoulder. He peeked over to your startled face, and smiled coyly at you.

"In all honesty, Ms. ______, we didn't want you wedded to that ruffian in the first place. We are quite pleased at how things are already. So you may rest with no concerns." He said as if he was doing you a big favor, and his dear brother and himself weren't so-called "ruffians" either.

"It's waaaayy better to have you all to ourselves!" Floyd chided in, and shockingly rubbed his right cheek on your left cheek.

"Excuse me?" You somehow mustered the strength to respond, and tried to struggle out of their grasps, but their combined strength made you look like a hamster trying to escape a cat's maws. "L-let go of me, now!"

"Oh? So soon? This warmth is quite enjoyable."

"Yah! Stop thrashing around!"

Floyd gripped your waist even tighter, and you felt like all the air you've kept inside was pushed out of your lungs by force, rendering you weak to their movement.

"Hence, we will propose another deal to you. My dearest." Jade teasingly said in your ear, entertained by your reactions. "I-I refuse the deal! Stop this at once!" You instantly decline his proposal, not even sparing him time to fully explain the full details of it.

"Hey, you love us don't you?" Floyd asked, and your dumbfounded look makes contact with Floyd's serious non-joking face. It was unusual to see him act so docile. "I have no idea what you're going on about, though I do know that if you don't let me go this instant I will call my guards."

"Hm? What makes ya think your guards would help you out?" Floyd tilts his head, "You're practically gone from this family. You don't exist here anymore, lil shrimpy." Your eyes become downcast, and you start to realize the depth of his words. All of what he said was true. You really were going to become a minor villainess who was executed, and the story would end with a "Happily Ever After."

It wasn't the prospect that you were going to die that made you so fearful. But the prospect of dying by your lonesome. All by yourself, with no one who fought or at your side. You grimaced. A villainess in the beginning and to the end.

"Oya, she seems to realize what her fate has been dragging her towards." Jade piped in, and twirled a strand of your hair with one of his long fingers. "See now, lil Shrimpy? You have no one." Floyd's voice fell into a deeper octave. He was done playing around with you since you weren't able to take a hint. "It shouldn't hit you too hard. You're the one with Ms. Yuu's blood on your hands, after all." Jade quietly murmured, loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough so it seems he's talking about something simple like what kind of tea he should have for this gloomy day.

"But, you have us."

"We are the ones on your side, lil shrimpy ♡"

It was a mistake. You shouldn't have agreed to make a contract with two of the most dangerous, and savage people that prevailed over the underground.

How could I...?

It shouldn't surprise you. How obsessive, and dominating the Leech brothers are towards you was your own fault. They aren't normal human beings.

But who am I to talk about human beings as if I'm one?

The baron girl had blood slowly dripping out of her mouth. The glass you kindly offered to her was shattered on the pearly ground of the balcony. Her legs were unable to hold up, and clashed to the ground. You stood there, watching, as she struggled to breath as her terrified eyes locked onto yours. Your dress fluttered in the wind, and your eyes were distant. You turned your gaze towards the Moon. It was so beautiful, but for some reason, it wasn't as beautiful as it once was on this night.

"Today, a new contract will be put into action between the Leech twins and Ms. _____, with the canceling of the contract that was once in operation." You could barely comprehend Jade's soothing voice that spoke softly into your ear.

"In this contract, person A, better known as lil shrimpy, will be faithful and true to person B, better known as the Leech brothers. In return, person B will take care and will not let person A die." Floyd claps his hands, "How do those conditions sound, lil shrimpy?"

Both twins await your answer, and as you slowly raised your head up to meet their gazes once again. You hesitated, but nodded your head along to the conditions.

Floyd grinned with glee and shoved you towards Jade who held the pen and contract in his hands.

A signature to capture your compliance to these beasts.

"Do not be so full of stress, my dearest. We will care for you with all our hearts."

"You won't escape our grasp when you sign those papers, lil shrimpy! Prepare yourself."

A/N : Honestly kinda disappointed in this one. But I hope all of you enjoy it just a lil bit. Felt like I really rushed in my writing and it was pretty messy writing too. But I'm too lazy to rewrite this whole thing. So enjoy this mess 😋😋😋

[bitingbody]

you know i'm cocky

18+ only, please!!

wc: 2.9k

warnings: combat, period sex, oral sex (reader receiving), blood kink, mild degradation, begging, multiple orgasms

Naturally, it had to happen on a combat day. You’d never had great luck, so it shouldn’t be surprising, but it still blows. As the Major has all of you engaging in paired sparring, you’re hoping for once that his eyes avoid you, because you’re about to slam face-first into the ground for the second time today. The hand of your opponent is merciless, tangled in your hair as you’re pinned down. Unpleasant blood streams from your nose on impact and you swallow back a groan. 

Sure, the bloody nose felt like shit, but didn’t compare to the agonizing pain in your abdomen. Part of you wants to lay right here, the feeling of laying belly-flat a nicer one than tensed, ready to strike or dodge, but a signature thick boot enters your vision and dread washes over you, clearing your head instantly.

“Real slow today, rookie,” Major Krauser’s voice drones on above you. He moves closer, nudging your forehead and slithering his shoe under your head until the toe of his boot raises you up by your chin. His red beret casts a shadow over his face, shrouding his hard disapproval in an even more intimidating light. “You trying to show your bunkmates how to get their asses kicked?” 

You don’t want to dignify that with a reply, but he cocks his head and you feel the boot under you press harder to your throat. 

“No, major,” you say. 

He lets up and you get to your feet, resisting running your hands down your uniform to rid yourself of the gravel now clinging to it. You stand straight, watching him watch you. 

He’s squinting, but he doesn’t say what’s on his mind. Just takes a step back and nods to the one who’d taken you down. “Again.” 

Fuck’s sake. You get into position, protecting your oversensitive abdomen with your arms locked in front of it. As they strike, you dodge and then manage a kick to the side that sends them flying. The mere effort of lifting your leg that high sends a powerful sting through your thighs up to your lower spine. You bite the inside of your cheek, watching your opponent approach you again. Krauser’s arms are crossed, watching the both of you circle each other like prey. 

“Don’t hesitate,” he barks after you’ve taken a second too long. “You think you have this much time out there? I could have knocked the two of you out cold by now. Go.” 

If only to get it over with, you take the shortcut of running directly at them, but before you can get in the strike to the shoulder like you’ve been planning— you’re grabbed and turned, effectively caught by your own momentum. An arm winds around your neck and the following lack of oxygen comes as a relief. 

“That’s three,” Krauser says, walking into your line of vision. He nods at your partner and the pressure on your trachea disappears. 

You stare, hating the scrutiny but more so needing this to end so you can have the small pleasure of laying down for a moment. 

“Everyone’s dismissed,” he announces, eyes not breaking contact with yours. “Take today as a lesson: don’t make the same mistakes as your fellow recruits. I don’t repeat myself.” 

As all of you turn to leave, he makes a tch noise under his breath, suddenly awfully close to you. The hair on the back of your neck rises. 

“Not you,” he says. “You’re coming with me.” 

The two of you end up in his bunk— much larger than the ones you shared, and most obviously, only housing him— and he seats himself behind his desk. Only after a gesture for you to join him, you take the remaining chair. One fist comes up on the wood and another follows. Your eyes trace the fall as his shoulders relax for likely the first time in hours. But you’re taken out of your idle admiration when he speaks again. 

“Either you tell me what’s going on with you,” he starts. “Why one of my most proficient couldn’t even get in one win, or I will have it so you practice all night so that never happens again on my watch.” His eyes bare into yours and you swallow thickly. Of course the answer’s stupid. He’s going to tell you to suck it up and deal like everyone else. You’re hardly the first here to be on your period. 

Residual adrenaline swirls around your stomach and you breathe out through your nose. “It’s nothing.”

He stands again, rounds the desk, and hovers over you. “Don’t lie to me,” Krauser hisses sharply. “You’ve never been that unfocused, rookie. That could get you killed. I don’t prepare you for your grave— I train you to thrive.” He leans further into your space. “So, one more time— what made it so that all you did today was trip over yourself and fuck up?” 

You mumble an answer. 

Krauser frowns, both arms caging you in the chair. “You can handle a knife but you can’t speak with confidence?” 

You say it again, louder and not without your ears heating up, part embarrassment and part fury at being singled out like this. You’re sure this doesn’t happen with your teammates, but the very second you get sloppy, the Major’s ready for some intervention. 

The answer makes a slow smile curl across his lips. “Oh,” he says, voice having dropped. A low heat simmers in your gut as he moves down to his knees, arms still keeping you trapped where you sat. “And you thought best to hide that from me?” 

Unsure of what to do here, you nod. 

“You should know by now that when you’re here, taking orders, training, I own you. Is that clear?” 

“Yes, Major,” you reply. 

He nods. “Good.” His arms move suddenly, hands tight around your ankles. Before you can compute what he’s about to do, you feel your shoelaces being untied. Sudden humor overtakes you at the situation as soon as it becomes clear— he thinks he can watch you get tossed around, degrade you for it, and then have you pliant just because you’re in pain? You laugh. 

Krauser stops, raising a brow. “Is something funny?” 

You suppress a smile. Yeah, something’s fucking hilarious. “No disrespect intended, Major, but do you think this is how that’s going to go?” 

He narrows his eyes, opens his mouth—

“—No,” you say, voice entering sickly sweet territory. “If you want to have me after enjoying the sight of me getting kicked into the ground, you don’t get it easy.” As you speak, you carefully watch his pupils dilate. “And I don’t think you want it easy, either.” 

The power shift is delicious. Perfect, even. He’s already on his knees, so it makes it wonderfully easy for you to squeeze your leg between his, boot finding exactly what you knew would be there. At the press to his clothed erection, his eyes flutter beautifully, but he doesn’t move or make a sound. 

“Have you ever been told no in your life?” You ask. 

Krauser grits his teeth. “You don’t know anything about me, rookie.” 

You shrug, playing at nonchalance even though this is a decent bit off putting. You’d only seen this man at his most authoritative, but having him like this…? Fuck, you’d never considered the possibility. 

“I know how badly you want this. Already hard at the fucking mention of my period.” You deliver a soft kick between his legs and he grunts, an endearing flush hardly visible on his cheekbones. That’s a first. You had no idea your Major could blush so pretty. And, well, you imagine he didn’t go flaunting that either. 

In a moment of boldness, you divest him of his hat and with your free hand, go for the zipper on your pants. His eyes follow as you tug it down and then force your underwear out of the way. The smell of copper permeates in the air as your bloodstained undergarments move to accommodate your hand. Underneath, you’re already wet, and the first touch to your clit makes you pull in a harsh sigh. Between your legs, Krauser shifts. You smile at him, moving your pointer in a leisurely circle as you talk. 

“You thought you’d get to pin me down and have me? That I’d go and beg for you?” You slip your finger inside yourself, gasping softly. “Sure, you can ask me to jump out there and I’ll ask how high, but if you want this, you don’t get to demand it. Do you hear me?”

Krauser nods, and you smile. 

“Anybody ever tell you you’re easy?” 

A dry laugh escapes him. “Once or twice.” 

You pump your finger faster and your back arches off the chair. He leans closer before you realize and lift up a socked foot to plant on his shoulder, keeping him still. A thin sound of frustration comes out of his mouth, but the Major doesn’t protest. 

As a reward, you remove your finger and offer it. “You want a taste?” 

His lips wrap around you and suck, tongue cleaning the blood and wetness from your finger like he was fucking made to do it. You keep your finger extended, curious as to how long he’ll go on like this. The answer becomes clear when his tongue curls around your knuckle, content to taste the sweat and tang of your skin. 

“Hmm.” You remove the digit from his mouth and watch his features set in disappointment. “How about you lay down for me?” 

Krauser rises to his feet, hands on his belt. “This was supposed to be for you. I don’t do this, often,” he manages. 

“What?” You step out of your pants and underwear, piled on his floor. “Sleep with your subordinates?” 

He removes his as well and you drink in the sight of the small wet spot on his briefs. “I don’t make a habit of it.” 

Unable to resist temptation, you walk over and grip him through the fabric, feeling the warmth and girth in your hand. Krauser huffs, inhaling as you flick your thumb over the wet patch. “Don’t worry,” you say, pressing a small kiss to his neck. Even you’re not gusty enough as to kiss him. “We’ll keep it between us. One time thing. And I won’t tell anybody how you went down for me like a felled tree.” 

His hands find your hips, gripping hard enough to leave bruises, and his tongue is forcing its way between your lips, teeth clashing with your own. Krauser kisses like he fights— fast, hard, with no room to get a breath in. It’s fucking great. You meet him with shocked reciprocation, a hesitant hand on the back of his head, buried in the light blond hair he kept hidden. After an experimental pull, he gasps into your mouth. Your victorious smile doesn’t last long as he gets his fingers on you, swirling pleasantly around your clit a handful of times before two slip inside you. It’s a stretch as his hands are bigger than yours by a lot, but it’s good. You stifle a moan, biting into his lip instead. 

Krauser pulls back, a strand of hair falling onto his forehead and very telling tooth marks standing out on the side of his lower lip. “Still got blood on your face from earlier, rookie.”

“I’m sure we’ll match by the time we’re done here,” you return easily, delighting in the way his eyes darken. 

He sits on the edge of his bed and watches you follow, settling on his lap and nudging him until he’s lying flat. You move easily, now straddling his face. A growl emits from under you as you reach to part your lips. “You thought about this as soon as I told you, didn’t you? You need my blood all over you.” 

“Shut up.” But his voice is strained, and one glance over your shoulder shows you how hard he is. 

“Try again,” you whisper, fingers inside yourself again, setting a fast pace that you chase with small thrusts of your hips in the thick air between your thighs and his lips.

Krauser exhales. “Sit on my face.” 

“No.” 

“That’s an order,” he affirms. 

Ignoring him, you take out your fingers and smear them across his face instead. His tongue swipes out to catch a drop, anything, but it comes out a mess across his cheeks and chin, nothing having made it into his mouth. He looks good, hot, marked by you. 

“So handsome like this. Beg for me. I’ll consider it if you beg,” you tempt him, leaning down to grind yourself against one of his thighs. You can feel his cock twitch. 

Krauser tilts his head back with a guttural, ultimately enraged sigh. “I could flip you off me and fuck you senseless,” he says sharply. “You’re not even trying to restrain me.” 

You save that thought for later. “Are you telling me you want to be restrained? I didn’t bother because you were all too happy to slut yourself out for me like this, Jack.” 

The words and use of his name make him jolt, and you watch as his eyes grow rounded, hands twitching by his sides. You resist kissing the scar on his lip and keep grinding onto the muscular thigh beneath you, breath jumping as he flexes it. 

And then you hear— 

“Please.”

You wait. 

Krauser mutters your name in a cadence you’ve never heard before— it’s desperate. You look over your shoulder and see how much he’s dripping. And, in an instant, you realize how much you fucking want to give it to him, so you do— rocking your hips forward onto his face and burying his resounding groan between your thighs. 

His tongue laps at you quickly, exploring between your folds. Vibrations resonate underneath you as he moans at the taste. You muffle your own high noises with a fist if only to hear how much he’s fucking loving this. The feeling of his tongue moving inside you makes you double over, arms catching yourself as your thighs tremble around his head. A self-conscious minute passes and you lift off, mouth opening to check on him. You didn’t want to suffocate him, imagine that. 

The sound he makes is something you’d call pathetic if you had a death wish. You coo softly and he whimpers again. 

“Please, ‘don’t need to breathe,” he murmurs, hands forcing you back onto his face. A thin, reedy moan leaves you and you make a fist in the sheets. Now that you know he’s perfectly fine, you ride his face without abandon, savoring the throaty noise you get from doing so. 

He noisily licks and sucks at your clit. Your other hand makes a fist in his hair, a hiss leaving as the feeling quickly grows intense. You’re close, so close. 

“Oh, fuck.” You reflexively try to lift off but he tugs you down. A barely discernible word hits your ear— now. You meet his eyes, and a challenge reflects inside them. His tongue finds your entrance again, and a finger presses hard on your clit. 

Your orgasm hits like a fist, bolting through you and making hot lava of your muscles. The already fading cramps ease with the aftershocks and you slump, releasing your hold on his hair. Krauser holds you there for a moment before surrendering, helping you to lay on your side. 

When you look at his face, it’s as close to a crime scene as it can get, blood smeared all over the lower half and his nose wet with your fluids. 

“Jesus.” You fight a blush and know you’ve lost when he smiles, refusing to wipe his face. The bastard. 

You spread your legs, deflecting from your surprise. You didn’t know you liked that. 

“Well?” You ask. 

Krauser blinks, eyes slightly hazy in a way you’re obscenely proud of, before hovering over you. When he moves inside you, you moan loudly, the stretch almost painful. He pulls out a little, thrusts in all the way impossibly hard. “Fuck!” 

He tucks his head into your shoulder, breath coming in fast spurts, hot on your skin. Feels like you’re burning up. “Want it,” he grunts. “Going to clean up after this, and make you ride my face again. Need you to cum on my tongue. Tell me you want it.” 

You shut your eyes and clench your jaw while he pants, fucking into you like you’re both about to die and he needs this before he goes. When you dare to open them, you catch the moment that gets you close a second time. Krauser pulls out, leaning back to look, and a breathy curse leaves him. You squint to see what he’s looking at and instantly clench around him— his cock, smeared in your blood. Your eyes meet, electric, and he braces himself to pound into you harder. 

This one isn’t like the first— it builds. You can feel the buzzing in your gut, your toes, and at the base of your spine. “Shit, shit, I’m so close,” you say, breathless. 

Krauser leans down and bites hard, on the side of your neck. The adrenaline sprouts fresh from the pain and sends you into a shaking orgasm, the second one hitting harder than the first and making you tight around him. With punched-out moans, he lifts his head to watch your face screw up in pleasure and finishes inside you with a deep groan. 

And when it’s over, the two of you side by side, tacky, sweaty, and a bit bloodstained, his breath wisps over the shell of your ear. A strong arm tugs you closer. “Don’t keep things from me next time, rookie. Got it?”

[jesterofcringe]

Kiss with a Fist Villain!Venture x Reader

req i received on my main blog, moved it over here :3 tw mentions of blood and an injury but not too much detail no nsfw btw. i straight up forgot ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

★ Romance with a villainous Venture is... somewhat complicated. Your relationship as a whole had a bit of a rocky start considering every other day you were trying to kill each other.

★ You were assigned what should have been a simple mission: Arrest Sloan Cameron. Sounded easy enough- they were an ex-hero, a big nerd with a bigger heart,,, how harmful could they be?

★ You quickly came to learn that talon picked them for a reason, and pretty soon trying to keep up with them was the worst part of your day.

★ At least for you it was- Sloan on the other hand LOVED messing with you. Although it was initially because they thought it was funny to watch how mad you would get, they slowly but surely begin to develop a crush. Unfortunately for the both of you, being the feral idiot they are they decide it's much funnier to toy with you instead of confronting their own feelings.

★ You don't notice it immediately, but you do notice the way they always target you when you're on a mission. You find it incredibly strange- because of their abilities they're able to go after multiple of your teammates at once, but they never do. It's always you that's backed into a corner, shoved up against a wall, or pinned against the floor with their boot on your chest, heel digging into your ribcage to keep you from moving.

"Agh... Sh-Shit..." You rasp, struggling and grabbing at their foot, "I'm supposed to be capturing you, not the other way around..."

Their foot presses down harder, making you wheeze as you claw at their heel. They laugh at the way you whine in protest, and you want nothing more than to knock that smug look right off their face.

★ Needless to say, you weren't exactly fond of Sloan. You spent so much time chasing them your sleep schedule started to deteriorate. Even when you thought you could relax you couldn't escape them as your brain decided to replay the moments you had with them and all the battles you lost in a desperate attempt to analyze what went wrong and how to fix it. Hyperfixating on your nemesis was one thing, but it got to the point that you started to have nightmares. Though the nightmares weren't a daily thing, they were frequent enough to make you consider ditching sleep as a whole.

★ You wanted to punch their lights out sooo bad.

★ As your rivalry progressed, you slowly [emphasis on SLOWLY] got used to their antics. You weren't beginning to like them by any means, but it became less about kicking their teeth in and more about just doing your job. That didn't make them any less annoying, unfortunately, a fact that became apparent when a particular fight had you slammed against a bar counter all the while Sloan continued to make dumb jokes.

"Can I offer to buy you a drink while we're here?"

"If you wanted to treat me why didn't you just ask me on a date like a normal person?"

★ When you quipped back, you meant it completely as a joke. In your logic, you hoped that maybe flustering them even slightly would give you enough time to get them off your back and gain some high ground. Unbeknownst to you, they seriously took your suggestion to consideration.

★ You wouldn't learn this until you found yourself chasing them across rooftops a few days later.

★ Being high up was seriously out of character for Sloan considering they preferred to be close to [and usually underneath] the ground. Despite this, they had a decent lead on you and were surprisingly light on their feet. You didn't let this deter you, and instead stayed right on their track, giving a determined chase.

"Where are you leading me Cameron?"

"Right here!" They came to a sudden stop, and the abruptness of it all damn near made you fell- they had to catch you and before you could struggle out of their hold they spun you around and pointed over your shoulder, gesturing towards the sky.

Oh gods. The sky.

From where you stood, you had a perfect view of the stars as they twinkled and winked. It was like someone had flicked white paint against a deep purple canvas. You were absolutely gobsmacked.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

Their grip loosened, allowing for you to turn around to face them. For once, you saw them in a completely different way; their wolfish smile replaced with a goofy lopsided grin, and instead of the malicious gleam you usually saw in their eyes, you were met with the sparkle of the stars shining back at you.

"Did you make me chase you here on purpose? So you could show me this?"

"Uh-huh! What good is star gazing if there's no one to star gaze with?"

★ You didn't have a nightmare about Sloan that night. You dreamt about the stars, and the person they used to be when they were a hero. You wished you got to meet that person, and almost wondered if there was a way to bring them back.

★ The next morning you woke up startled. You hated thinking about Sloan like that- there was no good in it considering the fact that you still had a job to do whether they were a villain or not.

★ That didn't stop you from accidentally telling them about it, blurting it out before you could stop yourself.

"You had a dream about me?" They said with a cutting slyness in their voice. You could feel your face heat up, and you really hoped you weren't blushing as much as you thought you were, "Awh, I knew you cared about me!"

"I do not." You hissed, trying to save face, "You broke my nose, I kicked your teeth. That's all that happened."

Their smile falters for a second. Though the action was quick, you still caught it even though it seemed they were doing their best to make sure you didn't.

You wonder what ran though their mind at the thought of you thinking about them at night. You decide, for your own sanity, not to let it bother you.

★ Things change, but only slightly. You still fight but you no longer actively try to kill each other. You don't really like them yet, but you're willing to say they're alright. They're weary not to hit you too hard even though you hated when they went easy on you. As a joke, you left a small mark on their drill. Not like a dent or anything, but you stuck a spiderman sticker to the side to see if they'd notice. Eventually they did, but they pretend they didn't as an excuse to keep it there.

★ One night, they turn up at your door. You're ready to get upset when you notice their condition- they look pale, and they're hunched over with one arm over their abdomen. They look awful, and yet they're still weakly smiling at you as if they aren't obviously hurt.

You nearly jump out of your skin, just barely keeping your composure as you stare at them, "What the hell happened to you?"

"Any chance I can borrow your medkit?" They ignore your question as they sway from side to side, "Do you..." they interrupt themselves with a hiccup, blood spilling form their lips, "...H-have one?"

They lean just a bit too far forward, losing their balance. You catch them and usher them inside.

Soon you find yourself with your nemesis half conscious on your couch as you treat their wounds. They murmur small apologies and thank yous as you work, trying not to flinch as you bandage them up. You did your best to remain stoic, though you couldn't hide the way your hands shook as you cleaned them up. You hoped they didn't notice.

"Talon doesn't have a medic?"

"...Didn't think I'd make it in time."

With the state they were in, you were sure they would've suffered significant blood loss if they tried to pull through and carry themselves back to Talon's headquarters. You're surprisingly relieved they decided to knock on your door.

"What did you get yourself into Sloan?"

Again, they ignore your question.

"I'm really sorry," They manage, "I just didn't know where else to go."

"Don't worry about it. I-"

You hesitate. The words were at the tip of your tongue.

Care about you. I care about you, Sloan.

You just couldn't quite say it, the words dying in your throat. Instead you sigh.

"-Have some spare clothes you can borrow. You should really get out of that bloodstained turtleneck."

They nod, smiling wide enough for you to see the gap in their teeth.

"You're the best."

★ From then on, Sloan hardly felt like a nemesis anymore. You don't even feel like it would be right calling them an enemy or opponent. You would never admit that out loud though.

★ Like a lost puppy, Sloan continues to appear on your doorstep, yearning to see you. You let them in of course, and typically they would fall asleep on your couch and vanish by morning. One night, you decide to conduct an experiment. Just to see what would happen, you stole their pillow and tossed it into your bedroom, gesturing for them to follow.

"C'mon man, that can't be comfortable."

"You want to share a bed?"

"...if that's ok with you-"

★ They can barely contain their excitement, though they do try to hide it by creating a big wall of pillows between the two of you. The next time they sleepover, the pillow wall is gone. By the third, you wake up snuggling although you pretend you didn't.

★ It was incredible, how you could fall asleep so close together and yet feel so far apart. You hardly knew anything about them. What did they do for Talon? Why did they leave Overwatch? Would you ever grow the courage to ask? Would you be able to see them the same after hearing their answer?

★ It was like sleeping with a ghost- their embrace was so warm at night but by the time morning rolls around they're gone. All you have to prove they were there is leftover pizza and a rock they left on your kitchen table.

★ You wish it was enough for the both of you, and you could pretend it was, but deep down you knew it wasn't. Whatever you had, it wasn't enough to convince Sloan to leave their life of crime in the past, and it certainly wasn't enough for you to leave Overwatch to join them.

★ Instead you pretend what you had wasn't real. You pretend you hadn't found comfort in Sloan no less than 24 hours earlier as you pull on your uniform and prepare for your next reunion to be on the battlefield.

[indibutterfly]

A Rough Night-Showtime One-Shot

Okay so someone in my inbox gave me the idea to write a goofy sleepover fic for showtime. I thought I could do it...1,280 words later, I have an angsty showtime fic...I don't quite know what this means for me or my personal well being.

With that being said, yes I am still going to write the original one-shot that was asked. However I did spend some time writing this, so y'all are now forced to read my angst...enjoy!

TW: Violence and Abuse

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good morning superstars!” The members of the circus gathered around their ringmaster. Caine’s gaze lingered a little on a certain jester. The two had been dating for quite a while now, and they had finally gotten to a stable point in their relationship. Things were going quite well for the two. The ringmaster shook himself out of his gaze and continued his announcement.

“I have a wonderful adventure for all of you to enjoy on this fine morning! However, before we start there is something I need to do first. Pomni, would you come here please?” The jester blinked. Although she had no idea what was going through his mind, Pomni walked over to where Caine now floated down. He took her hands into his own.

“Uh Caine, what are you doing?” She asked with a gentle yet curious tone.

“My dear Pomni, I have loved you since the moment you got here. You have brightened up the atmosphere of the circus so much and have given me a whole new perspective about you and your kind. You never cease to amaze me with all of your amazing ideas on how to improve the circus. Which is what bringing me to this very moment.” Was he about to say what she thinks he was about to say? Holy crap he was. He was beginning to stutter and sweat just a little bit.

“Goodness, I don’t know why I am so nervous! I promised myself I would have better self-control, but it seems as though I did not want to listen to myself.” With a slight chuckle, Caine continued his speech.

“I have one simple question for you, my love.” Pomni held her breath. This really was happening, wasn’t it? Caine took a deep breath and leaned in close to Pomni.

“Did you enjoy making a fool out of me?” The jester blinked.

“What?” Caine floated above her with a smug grin on his face.

“You really had me there Pomni! Bravo! What a performance!”

“Caine…what are you talking about?” With a trembling tone in her voice, she slowly backed away from where she previously was standing.

“There really is no reason to hide the fact that you used me. Why it was certainly a clever trick on your end! To bad that I am far smarter than you my dear.” The look on his face was blank. It was dark. It was…hurting. He loved Pomni very much, but now that he knew the truth, he just wasn’t able to let that slide. Using his telekinetic ability, the ringmaster picked Pomni up and threw her hard against a wall. The other members of the circus screamed and tried to run up to help her. Caine would not allow that. Claw-like figures rose from the ground and held the other members in place. The jester began to cough out a black substance. The amount of pain she was in was indescribable.

“Caine…I-I…I d-didn’t-” She was cut off by the now unrecognizable ringmaster.

“I wouldn’t LIE anymore if I were you, jester. It is futile.” Caine repeated his action, and slammed Pomni into a wall. This time however, the same claw-like figures from before grabbed multiple parts of her body, squeezing her, breaking her.

“Please...you’re hurting me…” She struggled to speak out. Cracks were beginning to form on her body. Caine gave a slight chuckle.

“Oh Pomni…haven’t you ever heard the saying…” He raised his fist and leaned closer to her.

“HURT people HURT people.”

“CAINE PLEA-”

“POMNI!” Caine sprung up from where he was recharging, drenched in cold sweat. Breathing heavy, the ringmaster flew around his charging port. He looked at himself and his surroundings. He then stopped and immediately thought of his jester. With a snap of his fingers Caine teleported into Pomni’s room. The ringmaster let out a loud sigh upon seeing she was alright and unharmed. The jester stirred in her bed. Before he was able to teleport away, she called out to him.

“Caine? What are you doing here?” She asked with a tiredness in her voice.

“Oh! Well, uh it was nothing my dear. Please, go back to sleep. I apologize for waking you up.” His voice sounded broken. It sounded like he had been crying. Pomni knew her ringmaster far too well at this point to know that he wasn’t alright.

“C’mere Caine.” The jester said holding out her arms. Caine did not need to be told twice. He floated immediately into her arms, knocking her back into the bed. She held him tight as they laid on her bed. He wasn’t able to stop. Pomni rubbed circles on his back to calm him. Although he did not really have a body or anything like that, this act was proving to be effective.

“Want to tell me why you are like this?” Caine shook his head. He didn’t really want to speak or do anything at the moment. All he wanted to do was lay there in his jester’s embrace. Pomni would not push him for information. In times when she was like this, he always would give her words of affirmation, her love language, and it would never fail. The jester knew that her ringmaster needed her right now and although she was not big on physical contact, this was what he needed.

“Pomni,” The ringmaster’s whisper caught the attention of his lover.

“Yes Caine?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Sure…” He leaned up onto her and gave her a lick on her cheek, before cuddling even closer to her.

“I hope that was not too far.” He said in a quiet yet meek voice. Pomni shook her head.

“I promise it wasn’t.” Caine gave a heavy sigh.

“I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“Caine, look at me.” Pomni cupped Caine’s teethed head.

“You aren’t going to hurt me. We had a similar conversation before. Do you remember what I told you?”

“That you would tell me when you were uncomfortable and/or when enough is enough?”

“Exactly, and have I ever had to say that to you recently?”

“No, you haven’t.”

“Do you know why I haven’t had to say that?” The ringmaster shook his head with a confused look plastered across his face.

“It’s because you are learning, Caine. You are beginning to figure out what bothers me and what doesn’t. You are starting to figure out what exactly I want.”

“But what if I step out of line and mess up?” Pomni gave a slight chuckle.

“My dear, this certainly is no laughing matter! I could seriously hurt you!”

“That’s called being human Caine. Humans make mistakes and hurt each other all the time. Even the ones they hold close to them.” He was…being human. This was not something he thought could ever happen to him before.

“So, what does that mean for us Pomni?”

“All it means is that you and me are going to mess up and probably hurt one another a time or two. The important thing is that we always apologize afterwards and figure out how to fix our mistakes. Couples aren’t perfect, no living thing is and that’s alright.” Pomni leaned over and gave a gentle kiss on the top of Caine’s teeth. He was stunned with the amount of gentleness and care she put into giving him affection at this very moment. Caine squeezed her ever so tight whispering ‘I love you’ over and over again.

“Would you like to stay here while you recharge Caine?” Oh, how he loved his jester. She was always there for him and knew exactly how to help him.

“Yes please!” So there the two remained, wrapped in each other’s embrace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you liked that! Summer is starting this week for me so get ready for a whole bunch of fanfics and comics!

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

POLLUTED MARROW & HOLLOW BONES (VIII)

|| COV MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER IX ||

PAIRING: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader.

WORDCOUNT: 6.4k

WARNINGS: Angst, arguments, high-tension scenarios, talks of death, strained familial relationships, anxiety symptoms including lightheadedness, vomiting, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

“L-let’s not be rash, here,” you chuckle awkwardly, still staring down from the top of the roof into Gaz’s glaring eyes, the amber in them boiling and rolling with fire. The vans all open their obsidian black doors, multiple armed men spilling out to case the area—but all the Sergeant does is set his jaw. 

“Get down,” it’s the only thing said. A low rumble and tilt of accent. Dead. 

The hair on the back of your neck stands up, and for a moment you’re so tense you forget the fact that you’re looking into Kyle’s eyes without so much as flinching. You stare a moment longer, one hand on the edge of the concrete, steadily tightening its hold as the other cradles your father’s things. 

“Eh…” Your eyes dart away, blood on the bottom of your face dried and itchy. You’d never heard him speak like that before. 

Before you can think to protest, you’re slipping onto the latter with a burning face and a skip in your heart. This was worse than having to smack a man with a vent grate—like being taken to your death. 

When you land on solid ground, a hand latches onto the neck of your jacket and begins forcefully moving you to one of the vans. Your free hand snaps to the clenched fist, grasping onto his wrist like a whiny teenager and releasing a sound of alarm.

“Hey!” Your feet try to dig their heels in, but the void of the car door is coming up quickly. “Gaz, let me go!”

There’s no response. The form beside you is so firm and his hand so unrelenting you wonder if you’ll be in even deeper trouble this time than when you stole your mother’s credit card in middle school. Kyle’s athletic build surges with anger—a clench to his teeth so hard his jaw bones can be seen while the corners of his eyes. 

Any snappy response or insult stales on your lips as you see his other hand tightly curled in on itself, the tiny growl that builds in him at your struggling. Throat bobbing, you let the man push you forward to the car and hop in without another word. 

Oh, I’m screwed. You thin your lips and cringe at the loud slam of the door, trying to keep calm in the enclosed space as the darkness sets in. Some of the soldiers enter the Museum, probably doing damage control. 

Bringing your items to your chest, you take a steadying breath and rub under your sore nose; bits of red flaking off like dirt on the wind. Your head pounds with uncertainties. 

Did you really think you could pull this off? Body hunching in, the driver glances back at you, his eyes narrowed with annoyance and a frown on his lips. Your face and the tips of your ears feel like they’re being placed over hot coals. 

You clear your throat, staring at the portion of skin right under his orbs. “Problem?” The driver scoffs and returns his gaze to the front as the passenger side door opens with a pop. 

“Get us back.” Kyle orders, voice clipped and final. 

Engine starting, the man that had tracked you down clicks his seatbelt on and closes the door with a stiff arm. Alone in the back, you do the same after a slight beat of hesitation; a second of something like panic hitting you in the chest. 

It was stupid to ask why he would be acting like this, but you still wondered if you had really met Kyle’s breaking point. The aggressive re-situating of his ball cap seemed like a good hint—the rod-straight spine and tapping fingers on the door-arm.

He was in full gear. 

But…this was what you wanted, right? A breaking point?

Your mouth opens and then slowly closes, breath caught in your throat and not knowing what to say. Why did you feel like you’d just done something irreversible?

Gaze darting to the floor, you glare at the mats as the vehicle jerks forward, turning to bring you back to the mansion surrounded by metal like an abyss and bullet-proof glass. 

“I…found some stuff, y’know,” you puff out, not liking the strangling silence about two minutes in. The USB in your pocket sits heavy.

Again, no one answers. The Sergeant’s eyes don’t even glance at you from the mirror. Frustration grows like a virus. 

“I wouldn’t have done this if you’d just let me help, Gaz.” You try to get him to speak, suddenly nervous and building in volume…or was that desperation? “I mean, really, it’s my dad!”

Nothing. 

Face stained with shame and lips peeled into a sneer, your eyes crinkle with a slight burning sensation trapped behind the skin. You sit with shaky fingers the entire ride, your mouth strangling down the loud exclamations as to why this wasn’t your fault so you don’t bark like a dog. 

You had to, didn’t Gaz understand that? 

Whatever was in your father’s belongings would tell you what you needed to know—break this entire thing open. And if the rest of the Sergeant’s friends overseas could track down the two that started this, all of it could be over. 

You could be left alone again, finish your classes, and…and…

Brows slowly slide in. 

What then? As the car pulls up through your gate, you find a horrifying realization that you have no idea. 

Unclipping your seatbelt, you go to try and open the door with a frown, only to find it’s unwilling to release you. Lightly pushing on the material again, your eyes slowly widen. 

No way.

Kyle had child-locked you. 

Gaping, you have to wait for Gaz to get out in a long moment of letting this new reality settle into your blood. He does so after pure silence, seeming as if he might say something, but the Brit just ends up sighing loudly and shaking his head. Gaz gets out and grasps the handle to your door, pulling it out and standing back—all without a mumble. 

Like you want to prove to yourself that this doesn’t make your chest feel weird, you shuffle out and scoff at him. But anyone can see the guilty expression on your face.

Striding up to the front door, you push at it with your shoulder, the night air cold and encompassing before the relatively warmer air of your house hits your face. The plate you’d left out for the cat hours earlier is left behind on the step, empty.

Kyle follows close after, hands hanging off his combat vest. In the foyer is when you snap. 

“Are you going to speak up or keep acting like a child? Look at the stuff I got, Garrick!” You hold the items in display as you can hear the car out front leave in a grind of gravel. “This could be the answer to if my father really—”

The laptop and the journal are all swiped from your grasp and he’s pushing past you before you can continue. Shocked, even petrified for a moment, your mouth flaps like a fish. 

Realization hits you like a truck.

“Fucker!” That was a new one. 

Twisting on your heel, you stalk quickly after the male as he stomps, hands clenched into themselves and the skin of your knuckles thin. “Give those back! Garrick—don’t you ignore me, I don’t deserve this!” 

It’s like he snaps at that, whipping around and pointing a finger right into your face. You balk back, surprise and alarm alighting your features.

“Deserve?!” Your eyes blink rapidly, lips parted. You stare widely into his cheek scar as his lips turn into an attacking jibe. “Bloody fuckin’ hell, what you deserve is to be locked into a fucking jail cell! Least then I’d be able to keep track of you, eh? What kind of bastard do you have to be to think that was a good idea?!” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, is it your family that’s,” you splay your hands, the house echoing with the sounds of verbal battle. The glass finally shatters. “Being goddamn hunted, Sergeant? Your father that got his head fucking imploded?”

You didn’t want to admit how much this argument was making you feel uneasy, but you want your father’s things back. They belong to you, and now they’re stuck in this jerk’s gloved hands like a doll. Those things were valuable; they could fix this.

“If it was me, I wouldn’t be running off like a bloody fool! I’d be listening to the people that are here to keep me alive!” You growl and shake your head. “How thick-headed are you?!”

Gaz isn’t done, his finger moving back and forth as the skin of his cheek tightens, lips dancing to speak rapidly like a fire was under his feet. 

“Your father is dead.” Blood drains from your body, expression immediately blanking. “He’s gone and he wasn’t someone to be proud of. Whoever he was with you was a facade for his family and the public. If it wasn’t an end by Row, it would have been by someone else, yeah, you understand that?” Tears infect the sides of your wide gaze, and you’re suddenly sucked into Gaz’s eyes as you had been the first day you’d both met. Amber and flashing gold—enraged emotion and raw bluntness that you’d had yet to experience in this capacity. What had happened to his sarcasm? His stern and laughable annoyance? 

“Hell,” he keeps going, moving his finger to point to the side. “Look at the carnage he’s caused just by being dead—innocent civilians and a fucking daughter who fights for an honor that doesn’t exist! You’re mental, Love, fucking mental!” 

Kyle pants, staring into your face and your tiny pupils; your shaking body. He grits his teeth and peels back, angrily twitching his nose. 

“If you would listen to me, this all would have already been over with, can you get that through your skull? I’ve tried to be nice about this, truly, but I’m done. No more leaving the mansion; no more late-night stunts that leave me callin’ up my Mates only to find you’ve gone and snuck out. No more damn,” he holds up the laptop and journal, “involvement from you. You’re done. I’m done.”

The house gradually goes back to silence, but it’s no longer a deep, ancient feeling. It’s like walking on glass, blood pooling along the soles of feet and sticking through flesh.

You stare and can’t find it in yourself to breathe anymore.

Amber darts to your bloody nose and Gaz bares his teeth, face bright with dismissal. He pushes past the concern at the crimson flecks. He’s done trying to earn your favor, so he blankly spits out, “Clean yourself up. I’m finished with being your bloody punching bag,” and turns down the hall. 

“I fucking hate you,” the words spill out in a strangled gasp, a wheeze on your tongue. Gaz pauses, his back taunt and straight. His chin partially peeks over his shoulder.

“Good.” The worlds feel like lead. “It can go both ways, Love.”

When he disappears, you stand in the darkness and feel the first dribbles of tears wet your lashes—making them stick to one another as you stutter on air. 

Your brain can’t make sense of it. 

Empty-handed, your body is so heavy the first few steps in the direction of your room feel like you’re dragging a statue of stone behind you; the rope tied to your fingers and toes. But when the bile starts to fizzle in your throat, you pick up the pace; darting through your opened bedroom door and beelining to your bathroom. 

Just in time, your face finds the toilet, vomit coming out in sputtering coughs as your sobs exit moments later, stuck between the acid in your throat and your stubbornness. 

You hated crying—hated vomiting—but lately, it was like those were the only things you could do; your body didn’t listen to your pleas or begging, only did what it wanted. On that front, you believe that your brain and matter were equally matched. 

Gasping and feeling saliva drip off your lips, you raggedly cough up what little you had in your stomach until you can sit back against the wall and blankly stare ahead. With varying success you try and take down deep breaths, shivering something awful as the chill gets to you.

But suddenly the silence of the mansion was a prison. 

The water pipes, the small creaking—the click of your small clock out in your room. 

Click-clock, click-clock, click-clock.

Your mind told you that you shouldn't feel bad. Shouldn’t be wearing that thousand-yard stare as you tase vomit on your tongue and in your throat; the burn of that shame and guilt. You had nothing to be guilty of—nothing. 

It was your father, not Gaz’s. He’d do the very same thing. 

Right?

You grasp at your scalp and lean forward, slotting your head in between your knees. Everything spins and twirls, there’s a violent need to satiate the thirst in your throat, but you can’t move. Can’t breathe. Can’t think. 

“...I’ve tried to be nice about this, truly, but I’m done. No more leaving the mansion; no more late-night stunts that leave me callin’ up my Mates only to find you’ve gone and snuck out. No more damn,” he holds up the laptop and journal, “involvement from you. You’re done. I’m done.”

Gaz’s hands on your palm and the way your very injured hand stings now in memory; those stitches popped and bandages bloody—the crimson on your nose. 

How he held you in the kitchen and leaned you back against the island. Spoke so softly and casually, as if you hadn’t nearly passed out on him.

He’d apologized not hours before you’d gone and snuck out. 

Your heart tightens.

He’d apologized. 

Your fingers dig into your flesh, biting hard as you suck down sobs and tiny whimpers; tears staining your clothes in fast droplets. 

“If it wasn’t an end by Row, it would have been by someone else…Look at the carnage he’s caused just by being dead…a fucking daughter who fights for an honor that doesn’t bloody exist!”

You curl into a tiny ball of horror.

“I’m finished with being your bloody punching bag.”

—

Kyle moved his things to the room directly in front of yours in the middle of the night, when you’d passed out from your panic on the bathroom floor. He’d grasped all of his belongings with clenched hands, bags contouring under the force.

At every instance, he cursed your name and everything you’d put him through. 

“Bloody, unbelievable,” he growls, shoving clothes into his duffel bag before zipping it up and wrenching it over his shoulder. 

It was rare to find the Brit this mad, so often level-headed.

“Give her every chance in the books, and what does she do?” He flicks the lights of his old room off and quickly walks down the hallway. “Fucking plays me for a fool! Jesus. Brilliant, just brilliant.” 

There was no way to describe how his heart had jerked out of his chest when he’d come to try and speak to you hours earlier; when he’d found the room empty after knocking for minutes—trying to be considerate to your privacy. 

The open window, the damn curtain rack. 

It was insulting.

Gaz stalks in a bitter and steam-emitting silence to the room across from yours, not bothering to check on the cracked open door from your own. You’d had your fun, you’d probably just forgotten to close the door fully as you made fun of him behind his back. 

Kyle frowns and sets his things down on the white, sheeted-covered bed that would be his. Tiny, and not even long enough to let his legs stay on it fully.

He tries not to remind himself about how afraid you’d looked as he’d laid into you. Halfway through his barking match of emotion, he’d thought maybe it was time to stop—to ease off a bit and reel it back in, but then it had become necessary. 

If you didn’t listen to him when he was calm, the fact was that you wouldn’t listen to him at all. Best to get it all off his chest while he could.

He’d already sent in a reassignment request to Laswell not an hour prior. 

Taking out his things, his fingers brush your stolen laptop and journal. Christ, there was so much paperwork to go through after what you’d done—damage reports and write-ups on his record for losing track of his VIP; the crimes you’d stacked like awards that needed to be scrubbed. 

This wasn’t only a protection Op, this was his job. 

And you were taking a hammer to his perfect track rep. 

Pulling out the two items, Gaz huffs and shakes his head, running his free hand over his chin. 

“Two things and it couldn’t have waited a few more days? What is this girl about?” They’re placed down on the bed and not given another glance. 

He’d have to go through them later. 

Kyle goes and splays both of his hands over his face, pressing his palms into his eyes before taking a deep breath to fill his lungs with oxygen. An attempt to calm down.

You’ll not get anything done acting like this.

The resounding truth was that he was tired. You’d tested him to the point of snapping—how was that even possible? You were a bloody Uni student with a big mouth and a stubborn streak, not even a drug lord could do what you did. 

You’d gotten him to yell at you and on the other end, he’d gotten you to look at him. Yes, look, with your own volition, but that fact left a sour taste in his mouth where it should have felt like a triumph after the terrible first in the park. 

You’d stared into his eyes with utter shock and numb fear—as if he’d pull a gun on you. 

A civilian. His charge.

You had been terrified, even if you’d tried to use entitlement to sneak around it. You’d been shaking. With eyes dead still.

“God, you twat,” Gaz grunts. Had he really called you mental? “Bloody hell, you’re in for it.” 

You’d be livid tomorrow when it catches up to you. A damn near homemade bomb wrapped in metal and filled with nails; Gaz’s name written on the top in red ink.

As he kept his door open to stare at yours in the middle of the night, the Sergeant prepared himself, still angry and dreading the future.

If only it could be that simple. 

In the morning, you wouldn’t even look at him. 

Wearing a large hoodie and pajama bottoms, you had already downed three cups of coffee by 9 o’clock, your body stiff and the air around your head a cloud of indiscernible separation. But it wasn’t like Gaz had tried to speak to you, either.

Both of you were forced to be in the same room, as the Sergeant wouldn’t let you alone save for the bathroom. You couldn’t be trusted. 

It was mental torture.

Jaw clenching, the man watched you work on your personal laptop, doing classwork while your USB stuck out of the port—he blinked away, writing up his own reports on the incident last night. 

The air was so thick you could be lost in it like a forest full of mist. It simmered; burned—then cooled to a degree of freezing before starting back up again. No words, no acknowledgements. 

Brown drifts back to your blank face as your fingers stop over your laptop’s keys, a small tremor, and then get back to it. Gaz bites his lip and closes his eyes harshly, shaking his head once.

He had to stop feeling guilty for the truth. You needed to hear what he said, no matter how blunt. It was the truth, after all. 

But the truth didn’t stop his heart from hurting when you reverted to a state of waking nothingness with little desire to eat or move beyond the shuffle of your body.

Gaz sighs and tells himself it’s not his problem anymore—in a little bit he’d be gone if Laswell approved him for transfer. Back with One-Four-One. Working with people who trust him and his judgment. 

It was for the best.

You stare at the ‘enter password’ screen on your laptop with a chill on your neck, blind to all else as you wrack your brain for answers.

The USB from your father’s office was password protected. Ten tries before it got locked out. You’d gone through five already. 

Staring hard, Gaz keeps distracting you.

He was sitting in the living room with you, on the opposite couch as well as on the opposite end—as far as he could be with still being near. Being in this state and feeling the tension in the air made you lightheaded with anxiety. 

It’s as if every urge to speak or breathe near him dissipates; your face a perpetual furnace, blood on fire. 

Focus, you have to tell yourself, but it only makes it worse. Eyes dig into the screen as the two words blend into one another, taunting. 

You can hear his breath, the scratch of his pen as it travels over paper—if the circumstances had been different, it would have been the picture of quiet companionship. 

A pity you both were the way you are. 

The shame was urging you to apologize, to rectify what you’d done; pride was taking that shame by the throat. But you were faced with the reality that you couldn’t go back to living alone like you had before, because this silence was enough to make you go insane. 

You missed his voice, and you’d only been without it for a short while. Kyle’s smirk and his cheeky quips. You both hated it and longed for something to grapple to.

It was true, you admitted, hands over the keys, you’d grown used to him. It was disgusting. 

About to chance another possible password—your parent’s anniversary halfway typed in—the front door rings. 

Immediately, everything that had seemingly already been still, halts. 

Freezing, you stare at the laptop and let the echo spread across the mansion, the high ding of the rarely used object. Your eyes slowly rise to stare at the living room opening, blinking, and for a moment any thought of Kyle and the argument; the hatred at your stubbornness and pride, utterly ceases to exist.

With a twitch of your fingers, you close your laptop in what seems like hours, the tiny sound it makes when it lays flat making your ear perk. 

Gaz’s head is already swiveled, body wound up. He sends a quick glance your way before standing and reaching for the X12 in his waistband. Your eyes catch the glint of his watch and you look away with a frown, lids narrowed with hesitation. 

Tell him you’re sorry. You know you are. 

Standing to follow, Kyle sends a hard look your way. Your feet stall.

Both of you seem surprised by that.

The Sergeant’s eyes widened for a second, hand on his weapon loosening and pulse up-ticking. So much expressed with absolutely no words to be muttered aloud. You take a deep breath and lick your lips, not able to speak over a raspy grunt of, “Kyle…I-I—”

The doorbell rings again, longer this time.

You snap your mouth shut.

Kyle looks you up and down, but his feet only hesitate a moment longer. He turns his head away quickly and carefully leaves the living room.

Running a hand over your neck, you close your eyes and contort your face into an image of confused pain, an inner hatred at…everything. You’d messed up. Badly. 

And you were afraid of your own fear. Afraid of your sudden unease at Gaz’s absence and his angry silence. Afraid because, deep down, you knew his outburst last night was nothing but the truth.

Sighing, you sit back down and lean into the cushions with a growing headache. You wanted more coffee, your stomach rolled with hunger, and you were cold. 

You hated being like this. 

“...Sweetheart?” your head whips up to a familiar face in the grand double doorway, breath getting taken in with a big inhale. 

A woman dressed in a nice shirt and dress pants stands with a hefty designer purse over her shoulder, face open and soft, blinking through the wetness at the corners which you stare at in pause. 

Gaz comes in behind her with another man, tall and blond with a mustache—your mother’s guard, because that was who the woman was after all...your mother. Home. The Sergeant looks over at you and places his gun back with a small sigh.

You clear your throat, standing before you shuffle your feet.

“Hey, Ma,” you glance to the side, itching at your arm. “How’ve you—”

You’re slammed into a tight hug and you flinch violently into it, sharp noise escaping your lungs and Kyle takes a quick step forward in alarm. The blond guard sends him a look of confusion, but the Brit stares at you and feels his lips thin. 

“Oh, my God!” Your mom exclaims in utter relief, sagging to you and placing a hand firmly on the back of your head. “I was so worried, I-I saw the news about the shooting but I wasn’t able to get in contact with you.” 

Your body is moved back and forth and you awkwardly place your hand on the small of her back. You stare at the far wall like a stuffed animal. Your mother was never a hugger, but maybe Gaz’s expression in the kitchen had been true. People change.

Three years.

“Christ, you have no idea how much I wanted to call you. Are you alright, talk to me.” The meat of your arms is taken and you’re maneuvered back so your matriarch—and last remaining family member—can look you in the eyes. 

You quickly move your head to the side. 

“I’m fine, Mom,” licking your lips, you shrug. “Glad you’re back…How was overseas?”

She sighs, looking at you in concern, and brushes past your question.

“You look sick,” your chin is taken and moved to the side, and another hand is taken and placed on your head. “And you’re running hot—when’s the last time you slept?”

Hot? You’ve never felt more cold. 

“Mom,” taking a small step back, you whisper out a meaningful utterance. 

“Okay, okay,” she shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I know, I’m a worrier...But, how have things held up? I feel like we haven’t been able to speak in lifetimes.”

We haven’t. Who’s fault was that?

Gaz tilts his head at the interaction, seeing your uncomfortable stiffness and your mother’s open and obvious love. This wasn’t how you described her at all, but then again, your mum’s actions weren’t the same either.

“How’s it been?” Alex asks, his arms crossed as the two women speak in low tones a few feet away. Your body is seen shifting and hands flexing. “Heard some stuff, everything goin’ smooth over here?”

“Wouldn’t call it smooth, Mate,” Kyle utters. “Recon you had it better than I have.”

“Ah,” the CIA Officer shrugs. “Gonna be honest, the Old Lady’s pretty easy—most I had to do was ask for her tea with extra sugar while on the plane.”

He sends over a twitch of his lips, a raised eyebrow. But the expression shifts to serious moments later.

“Word is the boys overseas haven't got any leads, they’re stuck in the dirt with this.” Kyle grits his teeth.

“Nothing?” 

“Nada.”

“Fuckin’ hell. That’s bollocks—how well are those two hidden?” Alex moves his fingers from their hold on his biceps, moving them up in a show of ‘no clue.’

He draws out his words with a huff. “It’s going to push out this timeline even farther than it already is, is what I’m tryin’ to say.”

“There any good news?” Gaz watches you as your feet realign, hands going to hide inside your sweatshirt pocket. A bobbing to your throat makes his shoulders turn in.

What is your problem? the Sergeant hums to himself. It's just her mum—Christ. Ease off it. Alex’s eyes narrow in question when he notices the hatted man’s attention is half on you and half on the conversation. 

“...Not any worthwhile.” 

“They’re expecting us to just wait? We can’t stay in a single bloody location forever, it makes a bigger target.” A brown gaze doesn’t stray from you as he says this. 

“Not much we can do, Garrick. VIPs take priority.”

Kyle shakes his head in disapproval. “For now, we might have something here—some new intel. Have to look into it.”

Alex perks, his arms falling to his sides. “How’d you come by that?” 

“Long story.” Gaz sighs deeply and the blond chuckles, giving a half-shrug. 

“Fair enough.” Alex nods to you and Kyle tenses. “It have to do with her?”

“...Longer story.” That gets a few grunted laughs, and the Sergeant smirks lightly, feeling a bit better to have someone he knows to talk to.

Across the way, you explain everything the best you can to your mother in small sentences and stuttering words. Her hands don’t leave you; studying you deeply at every mico-expression. 

“Well,” she takes a deep breath. “I think I’ll make us some tea, hm? Start cleaning up the estate when I get settled. I understand it’s a lot of work, but let’s at least open the curtains.”

She laughs and it fills you with dead. Clean up? She didn’t really expect to mess with everything right? Your mother kisses your cheek. 

“I’ll be right back—be sure to introduce yourself to Alex. And do try to be respectful.” Her fingers pinch your skin and you thin your lips. “Smile, Dear. No foul language. A-and let’s try to get some sleep tonight, okay? School can wait.” 

“Right. Yeah, I know.” She nods and smiles brightly, before telling you how happy she is to see you again. Your mother walks out and slips past Alex and Gaz. 

Two sets of eyes level on your form.

You waste no time snatching up your laptop and quickly walking to the separate set of doors, ignoring the confused looks before entering the hallway and breathing heavily.

This should be a good thing—having your mother back. Hell, you should be relieved she’s still alive after everything that went down. 

So why did it feel like everything was going to change? Three years and you’d had it under control, your routine, the fitful nights, you’d managed—not well, but you had. Now all of that was gone; stripped away like some meaningless cloth. 

It wasn’t meaningless to you.

The house was the way it was—like you in many senses. You lived with the covered furniture, and the curtains over with windows with a glance and nothing more. That was your normal. 

She’s going to change everything. She’s just come back and she’s going to wreck it.

It wasn’t fair to her to be like this, but it wasn’t fair to you to have disappeared when you needed a mom more than anyone. 

“Oh, God,” you cover your mouth with your hand and try to push away the footsteps that follow behind you, the nearly vacant press of shoes. 

Of course, he wouldn’t even allow you to have five minutes to gather yourself.

Gaz doesn’t utter a sound as he follows at your heels, staring into the back of your head. You briefly wonder where the ‘Alex’ fellow went, but find you don’t even care. Your mother was here after all. She’d take care of it.

She’d take care of everything. 

You glare painfully at the hardwood ahead of you and hold your laptop tighter, wishing you had your father’s journal—something that belonged to him. But Gaz had already stashed it away, probably locked it up from you. 

And you can’t find it in yourself to be angry, which makes you annoyed. 

That annoyance stays, just as the guard at your side does, even one day later. You don’t speak anymore, you don’t quip and dig; he doesn’t respond or smirk—no jokes taken in stride where yours are blunt and his whitty. 

Everything changes overnight. 

Gaz had seen your body completely turn to stone on the stares when you’d come down and glanced at the furniture open to the air, no sheets or coverings. Things were dusted and set on display; even taken from storage and laid out in expensive finery. He’d darted his vision down at you and tightened his lips, again saying to himself that it won’t be his problem for much longer. 

Yet, when he’d clocked your very-much real panic at the sight of the open curtains, he’d nearly put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed, having to restrain himself. 

You didn’t take it well. 

“Honey!” Your mother calls down from the foyer, holding her phone in her hand. “Lovely, just who I was looking for. Do you think we should change the colors from navy to green, or to violet?” 

You stare in horror, hands clenched into fists near the banister. 

“I-” your voice stutters. “Why are you changing the navy?”

“Well…it’s a bit dated, don’t you think?” Gaz’s face pulls. “Let’s, I don’t know, mix it up a little!” She laughs, flicking some dust from the coffee table near the old fireplace. “We’re back together—it’s time to move on.”

And still, to his shock, you say nothing, the fight sucked out of you. You bite your tongue and hold it all in as he spares you wide brown eyes. A sound of confusion bounces from Kyle’s throat. 

If it were anyone else you’d be down their ear by now—barking about the history and the memories.

For a moment he’s left as you slowly start back down the steps, back straight and neck tense, blinking at your spine. 

He almost speaks to you. 

Almost, but not quite.

As you seem to sink into a hole of mute acceptance you begin to close up even more—what little you’d opened up to Gaz was shuttering closed with a great shaky slam. 

“Hey,” Alex is leaning against the wall as a loyal hound would, keeping an eye on the ground floor. When he sees you he stands up straighter. “We weren’t properly introduced—Alex Keller, I’m glad to hear you’re—”

You stride past and grasp at the single straw to your name—the USB. You’d still had no luck with it yet. Only two tries left. It was weighing on your soul more than your mother’s insistence on eating meals at the family table. 

“...alright…” 

Alex passes a look to Gaz and the Sergeant only shakes his head over his shoulder and quickly moves. 

The blond is left with lightly parted lips and quickly blinking eyes—hand barely outstretched in failed greeting.

You end up in the library, hurriedly messing with the books under your name and piling them on the table out of instinct. Call you possessive, but no way was your mother touching anything that directly belonged to you. 

You own the estate now, you remind yourself, just tell her to stop. 

You only grab books faster—especially the ones that your father read. Maybe there was something of importance there; he liked to highlight and annotate important sections and quoted things often. 

A sequence of numbers or a code? A phrase? Who knew at this point, but you needed to do something. Keep you occupied. 

Keep you from thinking about the silent man who watches you from the side of his eye near the door. 

The silent treatment—you weren’t new to it. 

Just didn’t expect it from a soldier in his mid to late twenties. 

Huffing, you drop more books onto the table and tidy them, brushing off dust in your form of cleaning with a slap of your hand. When you’re done, the large objects are piled high in front of you and relatively dusted. 

Breathing stiffly, you try to push back the weight on your lungs before brushing off the heat on your cheeks as Gaz watches, head tilted and face tight.

If he’s anything as stubborn as you, he’ll be keeping this up for—

“What’s the question, then?” 

You immediately wind up like a jack-in-the-box, eyes daring to connect with Kyle’s. Twitching, you settle instead on his scar; studying the darkness. It’s a minute before you respond, and when you do, it’s nearly silent. 

Brows moved with apprehension.

“Kyle?” You ask, sticking your hands into your pockets. You’d left your coin back in your room. A frown mixes with a grimace.

It’s hard to admit how his voice made your heart lurch. 

Gaz clears his throat, feet shifting, but his voice is still hard and monotone. “Your question. You cleaned the books off.”

“I help you clean, and when I say we take a break, I have to answer one question of your choice.” 

Your bargain. A bit skewed, yeah, but apparently it counted.

“...I don’t have one,” you admit lowly, not a hostile thorn heard. Vision sliding, you look down at your objects. Apologize. Grunting, you grasp a few of the books, moving forward with them in your arms. 

Kyle lets you slide past, moving his shoulder until you’re not about to bump into it. In the bright light of the open curtains, he stares after and closes his eyes; breathing in through heavy lungs. 

Re-assignment couldn’t come soon enough. If not for his sanity, then for yours. 

Kyle fiddles with his watch and fixes his cap once before continuing after you, a very large hole of something in his chest that can’t be filled.

By how he wishes for your sarcastic comments and your fiery spite right about now, staring with growing worry at your hunched shoulders, he dreads what that something could be.

Tonight he’d take a look at your father’s laptop and journal—too busy yesterday with paperwork and reports; getting through red tape and trying to get into contact with Price.

He hadn’t told you, but there had been a break-in at the museum the same night you had snuck out. Same section. Same box bearing your father’s name ripped open and thrown to the ground. Five minutes after his team had cleared it. 

Five minutes after you’d left with the items in your dust-coated hands and bloody nose. Your wide, fake-innocent, eyes over the corner of that roof.

Someone was playing games.

And they were getting closer.

TAGS:

@fatunn, @mh073099, @littlegaypng, @untitled69555, @babybooday, @caffeine-anxiety-and-randomfacts, @underrated-youngster, @jupiterredolent, @idocarealot, @karnellius, @latteisaqueen, @petrat97, @jade-jax, @roosterr, @escapefromrealitysm, @renaich, @kysa32, @human-turtle, @aurora-basin, @terumisworld, @violet-phantoms, @xxfeelmylovexx, @neelehksttr, @nezukos-number1fan, @20forty9, @mdjenjen, @marrianena, @angeldaisyy, @alhaizen, @homicidal-slvt, @emerald-valkyrie, @raissadoesthingslmao, @misfne, @hollyhopesworld, @wasteland-babe, @330bpm-whiplash, @anna-banana27, @justherebecausesafarisucks, @sunnynomoar, @doggydale, @thecrispypotatochip, @74478328, @blueoorchid, @das-conk-creet-baybee, @dragonfruit1985, @chestnutsandcurls, @vamqyr3, @lavalleon, @nebula67, @urfavsunkissedleo

[whumblr]

Heyoooooo, been rereading home is where the hurt is, cause like it is so absolutely amazing, always a delight to find again and rerealise how fantastic it is.

Anyway I was reading lessons learned (yay for jay he earned his little triumph) and I was wondering how Zayne would retaliate? I feel like Zayne was also tired in it and normally he still could overpower Jay easily, but Id really love to read more of him getting his revenge at a later day, if you want to write that.

I hope you have a nice day,

~ @whumpedydump

Ehe :3 Yes, he can easily overpower Jay, that's the fun of it. Thank youu <3 Follow up to Lessons Learned.

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1

-

"Jay... I think we need to revisit what happened last night."

Yep, there it was. The consequences of his own actions. A hand snagged the neck of his t-shirt and pulled him back in a swift tackle to the ground.

Zayne immediately took his chance and sat right on top of him while Jay was still getting some air back into his lungs from that smash to the floor.

While Zayne's face showed no swelling or bruising from yesterday, Jay could still see a darker line crossing his nose. A tinge of pride pricked through his fear.

"Because you'll want to be careful with such tricks," Zayne whispered, taking utmost care himself not to repeat last night's mistake. He didn't lean over Jay yet, just sat up straight on his hips and pinned Jay down. "Because some people... might not take to it as kindly as I did. Might not be as... merciful to let you get away with it."

"I wouldn't describe you as someone who's full of mercy..."

Zayne merely curled a lip in a wicked smile and continued. "Some people, would be pissed!" And he slammed a fist right next to Jay's head.

Jay flinched hard.

"Would start retaliating." Another blow barely missing the other side of his face. "Punch your lights out." A fist flew towards Jay's nose and Jay twisted away as best as he could, brought up his hands. But when he opened his eyes, Zayne had stopped, knuckles now an inch from his face. A trembling exhale released, followed with a betraying, pathetic little whimper.

"Or worse..." Zayne pulled his fist back and unfolded two fingers into a fingergun. "What if it had been someone with a gun, like Emery?"

Jay pulled a face and couldn't expel the sudden vision of Emery sitting on top of him instead of Zayne. He shook his head and looked straight into Zayne's eyes, the familiar evil that he suddenly way preferred, trying to ground himself in reality.

Zayne slowly leaned forward and let the tips of his index and middle finger rest against Jay's forehead. He clicked his tongue, flicked his thumb. "He'd probably empty a gun into your brain if you tried some stunt."

"I'm not stupid enough to pick a fight with someone with a gun."

Zayne laughed. "You do realise that is literally what you are doing by researching his crimes, right?" He caught both Jay's wrists and slammed them roughly into the floor. "Not to mention that you are stupid enough to pick a fight with someone who hands you your own ass multiple times a week."

"You literally asked for it yesterday."

"Well, you know how I always like to encourage you to fight back," Zayne crooned right in his face, knowing he had Jay pinned to rights. "Just, you know, be careful with it. It could do you more harm than good."

"So you're saying to only try this on kindhearted souls like my trainer or you."

"That's right."

"I see." And Jay suddenly bucked his hips up, caught Zayne both off-guard and off-balance, tipped him forward, and tossed him right over.

-

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror

@susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime

@freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks

@hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion

@afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8

@itsmyworld98 @whumpifi @painless-and-colourful @withdrawingramen @lolrpop

[writerackermann]

Reacquainted

pt 2 of the only other fic posted on my page. Enjoy, any thoughts or comments are greatly appreciated :)

Word count: 2,565 (buckle up)

Warnings: Blood, only a little

The dirt hadn't worked as well as she hoped it would. While it gave her a chance to withdraw from his clenched hand, the majority of the hit went directly to his chest, powdering Levi's skin with an irritating amount of scattered dust. 

Levi knew her strength wasn't fully present. Already he could spot a preference for her left side when he was sure he had watched her dominate with her right. Surely she had been injured during her last three matches. But it wasn't enough to sway him into going any easier. 

He knew he was being unfair to wait until now to match against her. But he couldn't help but observe her a little more, needing to be sure. 

He'd been studying her from afar for a while now, noticing particularly recognizable aspects about her. Her accent curled differently and into something familiar- her instincts were too sharp for someone who was supposedly raised in a regular and loving household. Levi knew the impulsivity that shadowed survival. And he read it clearly in the art of her movements while fighting.

It had made him uncomfortable at first; watching himself mirrored through another person. She was an embodiment of his past, a place he had forced himself to push away and forget the moment he took the chance to escape it. 

He believed she now tried to do the same, and who was Levi to deny her that?

If Levi was correct and she truly was from The Underground, he couldn't let her grow bold. People like him (only not quite like him), were as reckless as they were stupid, fucking it up for everyone the moment they stepped foot onto the other side of the dirt. He had always been present to witness the aftermath, and it was never a pretty sight.

She was clearly growing comfortable exhibiting the impulsivity Levi had mentioned before. He only needed to make sure she learned to keep it in check.

With that, he shakes the remaining thoughts off of him and focuses on the opponent at hand. 

Her brows are now knitted, her chin dipped low, as her eyes wander across his figure through sun-caught lashes. The determination icing her features is raw and settles deep into her straight posture, giving him the impression of a person who has faced death multiple times yet continues to stubbornly refuse to surrender to it. She almost looks as if she were seeing it now.

Levi is suddenly able to see how she had made it this far. He couldn't help feeling a fleeting pang of unsought admiration, and he blinks it away as soon as he catches it. He chooses to momentarily pretend it never happened.   

She charges first. 

Levi grits his teeth from the contact of the first blocked collision- a hit aimed straight for his abdomen. He swiftly counteracts the blow with a prod of his own, slamming the entire weight of his forearm onto her exposed left shoulder.

The hit connects with her collarbone, earning her a gasp- small enough for only him to catch.

Narrow eyes flicker to his and she buries her knee into his thigh, making his leg buckle briefly before he promptly switches his weight to the other side for support. Her watchful gaze captures this, her leg raising once more in another blatant attempt to collapse his balance.

He targets her opposite side. With one swift kick of his boot's edge meeting her ankle, the momentum swings her foot off the ground, her knee crashing roughly onto the rocky sand. 

He begins to pull away until her fist grabs hold of his collar, snapping his buttons from the force. And before Levi realizes it, he's being pulled down with her-his own knee bowing to the ground with a sharp thud.

Levi revises and takes advantage of her raised arm, still fisted into his uniform. Recalling her probable injury, his fingers begin their travel across the softness of her blouse, his eyes attentive for a sign of a jolt or a twinge. He finally reaches the underline of the rib beneath her chest when he catches it. 

His palm senses the moment her breathing halts beneath its touch. His thumb digs deep into the space between her rib and the uncovered tenderness, her cry out ringing loudly into his ear.

With his uniform now pried open to the last button, her first reflex is to slam her elbow into its center. It works to shove back his arm, but he's already back on his feet, leaving her kneeled on the ground before him.

Before she stops him, Levi's fingers tangle into the softness of her tousled hair, and with a gentle tug, he angles her face up to meet his. He notices his dark stray hair coming into view, brushing lightly against his nose and forehead.

Her flushed face is still contorted into a tight wince, her labored breaths fanning lightly and onto his unfazed expression. Her nose scrunches into something Levi easily recognizes as revulsion.

He scoffs incredulously. "You still haven't caught on, have you?", he manages out in between a pant.

Her brows knit in confusion. He watches her lips part as her mind struggles to decipher the possible meaning behind his words. 

Levi eventually grows impatient. He brushes his thumb across the underside of her defined jaw, tapping twice onto a faded small scar etched into smooth skin. Upon inspecting it closely, he's surprised he didn't realize it sooner himself.

Both had been too busy fighting against their common enemy; the menacing misfortune of having been born underground. Stolen glances and heavy glares made up most of their interactions for years. They had been kids, energetic and tattered in both clothing and low morale. 

Occasional glimpses of her sauntering around their battered neighborhood became a norm for him- becoming a regular indicator of her well being. Oftentimes, he couldn't help the small flood of relief that washed over him when he spotted her after a few days of being unseen. His eyes naturally learned to seek her out- an undefinable sense of protection having been forcibly casted over him.

It confused Levi greatly at the time. Now as an adult, he's quickly able to pinpoint the source to his past motives.  

Kenny was the one who had ultimately pried it out of him. He had laughed himself hoarse that night, prompting Levi to shove himself out of his chair and almost tear down their door leading out into the street. The drunk bastard always knew exactly how to get under his skin, and he had done his job exceptionally well that night.

The altercation gave him the rash idea to seek out a distraction that led him to wander close to The Underground's edge. He roughly clashed with shoulders of other passerby's as he made his way down a narrow slope, his attention trained ahead and hands shoved deep into his pockets. 

He hadn't caught her lurking immediately. He also didn't sense that he was being followed, beginning a few blocks back into his walk. He blamed his temper for the mishap. It was always in his nature to be attentive. What a nuisance this girl was already turning out to be for his awareness.

He spun back, knife already clenched into a hard fist. Four men came into view, the third pressing a curved dagger against the pulse of a girl’s throat. 

The same girl that had Levi acting nonsensically.

The first man began to speak, the unpleasant crunch of a guaranteed smoker filling the echoing silence. "You might not remember who I am, but we met-"

Levi interrupted his short speech with his fist colliding into his partner’s throat. The hit forced the man to nick her throat slightly, drawing blood onto her blanched skin. From up close, he was able to tell she hadn’t been afraid from her previous plight. She mostly looked impatient. Levi deeply reciprocated.

He expected the leader to quickly retaliate. What he didn't expect was for the girl to jump in to knock out a small pistol he was beginning to pull out of his pocket with full ease. He found the movement to be oddly familiar, only he chose to dismiss it due to the gravity of their situation.

Time warped differently for him at that moment. He remembers curses were thrown around between the sound of cracking bones and swooshes of knives being swiped across air. She fought alongside him, taking down a man while he took care of the other three. Shouts of warning and instruction were passed amongst the two, distracting him momentarily upon hearing her voice clearly for the first time.

He killed one of the men with a slash to his throat, specifically, the one who had been holding the dagger. The rest got away, much to Levi's dismay. He would probably have another run-in with them soon. Later, he’ll have to suck up his pride and communicate this to Kenny after he eventually gets sober.

Neither of them spoke a word for a minute or two. To Levi, it felt more like an hour. He turned to see her swiping trickling blood gushing slowly from beneath her jaw, the wound appearing larger than he initially thought. Her lovely features showed no worry about her injury, and he wondered if she knew how to stitch up skin. He then asked her such.

“I’ve tried it once before, only it wasn’t to myself. I’m also not good with needles.” She responded quietly, the confidence and self-assuredness from the faded adrenaline nowhere to be found. She then surveyed his body, pointing warily to his outer bicep. “But I can fix that for you in exchange for you stitching my wound.”

Levi then looked down at his arm, noticing for the first time a small slash from a pocket knife. It gushed bright blood onto his white blouse, earning him a frustrated click of his tongue. It wasn’t too bad compared to other injuries he had acquired throughout the years. It was also an easy fix. He contemplated rejecting her offer and dealing with the gash himself.

“Fine.”

He turned and began his course back to the complex. Behind him, shuffling footsteps against pavement served as the only indicator of her following him. When they arrived, Kenny was already gone, and Levi sighed in relief. He led her up the stairs and into his own separate room, his personal items and a few pieces of furniture neatly organized and immaculately cleaned. He rummaged into a drawer and pulled out the materials needed for stitching, placing them onto his neatly made bed.

She pulled over a stool from the corner of the room and waited patiently for him to begin the stitching process. Her hands fiddled nervously into her lap, and Levi inched closer to her face, crouching lower to her level to assess the damage to her jaw.

“Not too bad. I think four or five stitches will do.” Levi muttered, mostly to himself. He angled her chin sideways for a clearer view and began to work.

He mostly worked in silence- focus taking over the need to start a conversation, not that he would’ve done it, anyway. An occasional wince or groan would slip out of her mouth as she gripped and wrinkled the thin fabric of Levi’s comforter, but he didn’t mind. After a while, he would catch his eyes flicker discretely to survey her whenever he knew she was pinching her eyes shut from the pain. It was quickly reminded to him that she was indeed, the loveliest girl he had ever witnessed.

He picked up a small pair of scissors to carefully end the thread. “You ever plan on explaining why you were following me?” He questioned accusingly, this time making sure to make direct contact with widened eyes. She probably thought he had forgotten to ask. Levi was never one to forget things.

Her flustered gaze dropped to her lap, as if threatened by the question. “I’d rather not say.”

He snipped the thread and it dropped into the air. “Too bad you don’t have a choice.” Levi replied evenly.

He waited patiently for her to find the words. “You’re the best fighter in the entire underground.” She finally confessed. “I watch whenever you become involved in a confrontation with someone and I apply your technique into my own fighting.”

To this, Levi didn’t know how to respond. He knew he had recognized something about her earlier maneuver. When in reality, it was himself he had recognized in her movements. He also didn’t like the idea about her following him into potentially dangerous occurrences. And now that he knew, it was only going to serve to further distract him in the future.

He didn’t say anything after that. He finished off the stitching by applying a small bandage on top of his steady work to prevent them from splitting. She kept her part of the bargain and wrapped his arm after applying gauze to help suspend any leftover bleeding, the presumed wound turning out to be only a light scrape. It was well past midnight, and he could notice her grow increasingly tired with every passing minute.

When she finished, she politely thanked him and exited him room, leaving the door slightly ajar. He listened intently to her footsteps as she made her way down the staircase, and then to the sound of their front door closing firmly shut.

He couldn’t help his disappointment at the short-lived interaction. He sat alone to the sound of his flickering light for a few moments longer, regretting not reprimanding her for following him earlier, and every other time before that. In the end, he decided she was smart enough to not get too close, and if ever caught her becoming bold, he wouldn’t hesitate to make her aware. Besides, it would allow him to keep a closer watch over her, recalling his unsolicited effort to keep her protected.

A few months after their acquaintance, Levi was forcibly taken above ground by Erwin and the Survey Corps. He got caught up with shit thrown his way, losing both Isabel and Furlan in the process. But he never stopped thinking about her occasionally for the first few years. Eventually, Levi’s promotion to Captain left him no time to ponder about the past, and he was forced to focus on what was placed in front of him instead.

That was, until a woman resembling home was caught parading her capabilities a little too loudly. His eyes remain glued to her faded scar beneath her chin, images of that particular night years ago flooding his mind with suppressed memories. A second chance to silenced longing pulsed through him and made him light-headed with fear, the reality of their situation hitting him with full force. She was a soldier in training, and they would soon be back to the same predicament they were in years ago.

Levi wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. He had been granted a gift, one he wasn’t so sure he was even worthy of. He would fight dirty and soak his hands into more blood than he currently carried if it meant he could have this. A chance to make things right.

Something about her lovely watered eyes and upturned smile tells him she might feel similar.

[brittscafe]

Kinktober Day 19

Kinktober Day 19: Hate sex, Kensei Muguruma x female reader.

Being in the same division as Kensei Mugurma was already a pain in your ass, but having him as your captain, makes your life horrendous and miserable. The way he bosses you around and you can't say anything about it because he's your captain.

How you hate that man with a burning passion inside of you. Kensei isn't very fond of you either. You fight him every chance you can get, never agreeing with his plans. The way you look at him, it makes his blood boil.

There can't be a better time when the Soul Society is falling apart and being attacked by the Quincies, to hate each other even more than ever.

"Would you just shut the hell up?!" Kensei's voice roars out as he stands up, slamming his fist down on the ground. You glare up at him and scrunch your face up with anger.

"No, but I'd like to see you try and make me, captain," you growl out, leaping up onto your feet. Kensei's eyes are dark and full of rage.

"You know that my plan is the best way to move forward and take out the rest of the Quincies. Stop fighting me!" Kensei scoffs out, running his hands over his face.

"Do you really think that trying to plan something right now when they are literally killing multiple soul reapers is the right thing to do? We need to go out there and help them out, before they all are killed!" you hiss out, clenching your fists.

Kensei's eyes widen and he steps closer to you. "You really want to go out there without a plan?" his voice softens and your nod your head.

"Yeah I do. What's wrong with that?" you ask, meeting his strong gaze.

"You die."

"You never had a problem with that before. I'll see you on the other side, captain," you roll your eyes with annoyance, storming over to the door.

You grab onto the knob and open it. The door only opens a few inches before it's slammed shut. Kensei had extended his arm and pressed his hand above your shoulder, closing the door.

"Kensei," you retort harshly, letting out a deep breath. You turn around and slowly face him. He's only mere inches away from your face, you can feel his breath fanning over your skin.

Kensei is definitely still mad, but he has a look of concern washed over his face.

"Don't you dare go out there," he hisses out through gritted teeth and your stomach twists into uneasy knots.

"Or you'll what?" you ask, cocking your head to the side. Kensei steps closer to you and you gulp.

"Go on. Try me," he demands, letting his hand fall from the door and back down to his side and you nod your head.

"Watch me," you roll your eyes. You spin around and open the door, taking a step outside. Kensei's hand shoots out and latches onto your wrist.

Your heart skips a beat as you're dragged back into the room, spinning around and bumping into Kensei's chest. He slams the door shut and backs you up against a wall.

He pins you there and you squirm against his grasp. "Let me go!" you call out, tossing and turning against him. The way your hips thrash against his, hitting his soft cock.

Suddenly, the hues of Kensei's cheeks turn a slight pink and you stop moving. You furrow your eyebrows and stare at him, trying to figure out why he's flustered.

"What is it?" you ask.

"N-nothing," he clears his throat. That's when you feel it. Your captain's hard erection pressing against your thigh. Your heart rams against your chest and your jaw goes slack.

"You know, this is highly inap-" you start to speak, when Kensei roughly presses his lips against yours. The suddenness makes you moan and he presses his body against yours.

Your hands grab anywhere they can, at his shoulders, chest, and the strands of his silver hair. Kensei groans against your lips as you pull on his hair.

Your hand slips into his uniform and you feel his muscles. He chuckles against your lips and pulls away from them.

"Have you always had a thing for me?" he asks, licking his lips.

"Excuse me?! You kissed me first!" you scoff out, pushing him off of you. His hair is messy as he proceeds to undo his uniform. The captain's cape drops to the ground and the muscles on his built arms flex as he pulls off his black, sleeveless, kosode and your core throbs.

You drool over his built chest as he reaches down, undoing his black hakama.

"Whatever. You want to do this, right?" he sighs out, only dressed in his boxers. You press your lips together, admiring the hard erection that's poking out.

"I mean yeah, but is this really the time?" you scoff out, starting to undo your own uniform. Kensei's eyes widen as you toss the rest of your uniform aside, left in your bra and underwear.

"Well, seeing as how we're both almost naked, yeah," he nods his head, walking over to you.

"God, do you ever shut up?" you roll your eyes as he places his hands on your hips, tugging you closer to him. He dips his head down and presses his lips to your breasts peeking out from your bra.

His hand slides around and unclips your bra. Kensei grabs onto a strap and tugs it down your shoulder. He presses a kiss to your shoulder and runs his tongue over your flesh.

Goosebumps prick along your skin and you let out a tiny breath.

"I do, actually. You don't ever and you won't, especially when I'm balls deep inside of you," he whispers into your ear, teeth tugging on your earlobe.

You moan softly and tug on his hair. Kensei removes your bra and his eyes glisten at your breasts.

"Shut up, you probably aren't that good anyways," you sneer out as his lips capture one of your nipples. He chuckles quietly and rolls his eyes.

His free hand travels down to your underwear and he starts to rub circles against your clothed clit. You squirm against him and whimper quietly.

"Oh really? I'll make sure you'll be screaming my name," he breathes out, his eyes flickering up and meeting yours.

Kensei presses wet kisses to your breast before moving onto the other one. He closes his mouth around your nipple, smirking as your nipple grows hard in his mouth.

"We'll see about that," you growl out, pressing a hand to his chest and slightly pushing him down. You grab onto the hem of his boxers and start pulling them down.

You climb down onto your knees, watching his length spring out and slap his stomach. You take Kensei's length in your hand and start pumping into.

You squeeze the red head of his cock and he groans heavily. Your hand travels down to your underwear and you slide your fingers inside, toying around your clit.

"Does it feel good?" he hums out, cocking an eyebrow.

"Better than you could ever pleasure me," you sigh out, letting out a breathy moan. Your words make Kensei's blood boils and he grabs onto your jaw.

He forces you up onto your feet and you remove your hand from your underwear. Kensei bends you over the couch and presses his bare cock to your ass.

"Oh yeah?" he asks with a low, tempting voice. He tugs your underwear down, letting it pool around your ankles. A chill runs down your spine as you feel the cold air on your core.

"H-hey! Ow!" you yelp out, a hand smacking your ass and leaving your left cheek stinging. Kensei grabs onto his throbbing cock and rubs it against your folds, teasing you.

You hiss out and spread your legs farther apart, trying to feel more of him. You whimper again as another sting is delivered to your right ass cheek.

You open your mouth to speak when Kensei thrusts himself inside of your pussy. You cry out with pleasure and hold yourself up against the couch.

He grabs ahold of your hair and tugs your head back. The head of his cock is prodding against your sweet spot and you suppress a moan.

"I hate you," you speak through gritted teeth, turning your head towards him and Kensei chuckles in response. He pulls his hips back and snaps them, thrusting his cock back inside of you.

You moan loudly as Kensei's balls slap against your ass.

"Really? Tell me, how good I am fucking you right now?" he whispers, pinning your head into the side of the couch.

"F-fuck you," your voice is muffled by the couch as he thrusts in and out of you. Kensei's cock becomes covered in your wet arousal and he groans, watching your ass jiggle with each strong thrust.

Your arch your back feeling Kensei's cock reach deeper inside of your aching pussy. Moans and groans leave your throat.

"Yeah, you like that, don't you?" he teases you, pounding into you from behind. Kensei's eardrums fill with the sound of your ass slapping and his cock twitches inside of you.

"K-Kensei!" you scream out, cum flooding out from your core. Your thighs shake and you slouch over the couch, not able to hold yourself up anymore.

Kensei's hand wraps around your waist and holds you steady.

"You're such a dirty slut," he curses out, delivering a slap to your ass. You moan loudly and pant heavily as he still thrusts into you. His hips meeting your ass as you clench around his cock.

"Shut up," you retort harshly, starting to move your hips back and forth on his cock, squeezing.

"Jesus, f-fuck, y/n," Kensei's voice stutters out, fucking your cum back into your throbbing pussy. With a heavy groan, he releases thick ropes of cum inside of you.

Kensei leans over your slick back and pants heavily, bringing himself down from his climax. He slowly pulls out from you, wincing quietly as his cock is still sensitive.

You flip over onto your back and lay against the couch, body exhausted.

"Here," he clears his throat, tossing you your uniform and a rag to clean yourself up with. You catch your uniform and stand up from the couch, your thighs still slightly trembling as you wipe the cum off from your sticky thighs.

"Now, can we come up with a plan so we can go beat their asses?" you ask and Kensei sighs deeply, glaring over at you.

Tags: @stygianoir @noyaistall

[bucknastysbabe]

Kink Bingo - Praise Kink

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1, 765

Tags: Dead dove, WHUMP?, Hydra Trash Party, Mentioned rape, Dub-con, confused WS murder meow meow, hydra!handler!reader, praise kink, touch starved Buck, hand jobs, He’s Just Super Sensitive Blame The Serum, crying what’s new, she loves him in the worst way possible

A/N: I haven’t really written something dark like this in awhile so WARNING! The one Russian translation is thanks commander. Poor Bucky but he gets petted and praised by an insane Soviet for a little bit. Subtle Steeb reference at the end. Listened to gimme danger the entire time.

You leaned back in the stiff leather chair, waiting for your delivery. Strike team was bringing the asset to your office at some point. Your mouth pinched at the thought— they played too rough with the poor thing. Soldat was the fist of Hydra, not a common whore. You didn’t like the Americans very much, but Karpov had sent you along with the asset to get adjusted to being under Alexander Pierce’s control.

So you handled your precious boy until the Americans grew tired of you. They’d already beaten the little life the asset had left into a pulp. He was even more quiet and confused than in Siberia. You’d give him some peace before being discarded, hopefully by the greatest creation of Hydra.

The door opened, the young agent Rumlow shoving the asset inside with an irritated noise. You raised a brow at Soldat’s state— bloodied and bruised moreso than the average mission. Rumlow barked, “He didn’t listen, stupid fuck needs to get wiped again. Got punished, so stop looking at me like that Komandir.”

“Fuck off,” you hissed.

Rumlow slammed the door with a scoff. Your precious soldat stumbled forward dazedly. He knew the drill even between countless wipes, come report to the handler after a mission. Soldat limped forward and kneeled between your legs, wide blues looking up blankly. His nose was bruised, one of his eyes bloodshot and blackened.

You frowned and carded a gentle hand through his thick brown locks, sighing softly. His jaw twitched, throat bobbed. You stated, “Status report.”

His robotic reply came quickly, “Fractured left orbital, nasal fracture, broken anterior ribs nine and ten. Palatal Petechiae, anal fissure.”

You almost hissed at the last part. The strike team was a bunch of mongrel deviants, using the asset to sate their primal urges. With a coo you placed both hands on his cheeks, carefully thumbing over his black eye.

“Baby, poor baby,” you simpered. His wide eyes searched your face, glassing over with tears. You lied, “Those strike team boys are dogs. You’re just so pretty they can’t help themselves.” Soldat whined sadly through his swollen nose, guilty gaze flicking to the ground.

“I didn’t listen- I- I need maintenance,” he said.

He thought he deserved it. He probably didn’t, they just searched for ways to inflict torture. Nasty American pigs. You would make soldat feel better in the meantime. He loved praise and petting, baby was so touch starved. Vasily had taught you that about the asset. Said it makes him more obedient in close quarters because he gets so overstimulated and needy.

“Soldier,” you sweetly said, “You’ll get your maintenance soon. Let your handler take care of her precious star.”

You moved your hands to gently scratch at his scalp, frowning at the pieces that were obviously ripped out using force. You murmured, “How did they use you?” Soldat had to open his hazy eyes, almost purring at your ministrations.

“They used my anus and throat. Multiple members of Strike team Alpha,” he rasped oh-so-quiet. You bit back another hiss, focusing on untangling his dark locks.

You liked the way his English sounded. Your accent was thick and guttural. The asset’s English was soft-spoken, lilting, pretty. You knew it was his native tongue long ago. Pierce told you to stop speaking Russian with Soldat, who currently leaned into your touch, quivering muscles settling down. His injuries would be slowly knitting up— the bruises would be a couple of days, the broken bones a couple more.

Soldat was perfect like that. You ordered, “Just relax precious, if you can.” He nodded obediently, stable hands clasped behind. You worked on the multiple buckles and zips caging in his finely tuned body. Soldat’s titanium arm clicked and clacked in the quiet room, the only noise besides the hum of the A/C.

You peeled off the tight leather from his torso, sucking in a breath at the bruising. You sighed again, “My poor baby, they did a number hm?” He nodded slowly, lips trembling. You rubbed at the knots in his thick shoulders, the asset moaning softly. He never got very loud, but the cries and sniffles when he came were divine.

“Such a pretty angel baby, I know you did great, you always do.”

He vaguely nodded, a half-assed jerk of his pretty jaw. The soldier whimpered, “C-commander please.” His swollen red lips still pouted and shook, sobs threatening to rip out of his sore throat. You purred, “Do you want a reward soldier? Sweet baby.”

“Mhm,” he croaked.

You eyed his peaked nipples and straining bulge in his cargo pants. He had a pretty cock, flushed and thick, just huge, like the rest of him. You unbuckled his belt easily, sliding the pants down strong thighs. They even quivered under your attentions. You couldn’t help the quirk of your lips at soldat gasping when his swollen cock slapped his toned stomach.

You pressed soft kisses to his neck and jaw, wandering hands paying mind to the broken parts of his body. Awkwardly you ushered the naked asset up, leading him forward to sit on your desk. His thighs tantalizingly spread out when he sat down with a wince. You apologized, “So sorry sweet boy, I’ll make it better then you’ll get some rest.”

“спасибо командир,” he murmured.

You chided, lips ghosting over his own, “No Russian, remember baby? I know the Americans are confusing.”

His lips puckered eagerly, waiting for a kiss. You closed the distance, winding a hand into his long locks. You rubbed soothing circles while sharing his lips in slowed smacks. The asset liked everything slow, you figured it kept him relaxed. Nothing like the jackhammering cocks of the disgusting strike team.

He whined happily into your mouth, arching into your body. You smiled, sweet thing wanted his tits touched but wouldn’t dare to ask. So you did it for him, “You want me to play with your tits baby? My needy star.” He nodded frantically, chasing your lips to crash back against his.

You slid the hand from his hair and hip to rub wide circles on his built pecs.

Then you ran your thumbs in tight motions on his dusky nubs, so fucking gentle like your super-soldier pet would break. You knew he would if he could. The asset shivered, a thin whine of ‘commandeeerrr’ elicited instead. You clenched your thighs to dull the ache. You never fucked the asset. Just played with him until he got his sweet release.

You weren’t like the thugs here taking and taking. Soldat needed you like the oxygen in the air. He needed some sort of twisted love in his lonely life. You sucked on his tongue to abate the pang in your chest from the thought of abandoning your sweet boy.

Soldat’s arm shifted and whined in random intervals— signals just as overwhelmed as the rest of him. You kept up the assault on his nipples, the poor thing’s drool making your kiss grow sloppier and wetter. He mewled into the lazy movements, hands trembling. You murmured, “You can touch baby boy.”

You almost squeaked at the feeling of his big hands groping your ass. He tried to be gentle but soldat rarely knew his own strength. You’d cherish the usual mottling of your skin afterward. He brokenly panted, “Commander, feels…s’good. Thank you.” His dark lashes fluttered when you pinched his now swollen peaks, full lips hanging wide open in ecstasy.

“No need to thank me precious, I know my perfect boy needs it. Do you want me to play with your pretty cock?”

He let out a mournful noise— huge arms pulling you even closer. Soldat would probably latch onto you like a puppy if he didn’t have orders. He pled, “Will you, pl-please please.” The asset flushed and winced, expecting a slap for asking questions. You pressed your lips to his slick mouth and hummed, “I’ve got you, my star has such manners.”

You pulled back, his brows furrowing in distress at the absence of your mouth. You let your collected drool drip into your palm and wrapped it around engorged flesh. He cried out and bit down to stop the noise.

“Don’t hide your sweet sounds from me, I want to hear my precious boy.”

A choppy exhale of breath was your answer. He squirmed and sniffled as you methodically fucked your fist on his cock. Slow, slow, a rough twist on the head and your prize was trembling like a virgin. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, puffing hot breath on the thin cloth of your top. The asset babbled random words in different languages interspersed with the most breathtaking little sobs.

You slid your thumb around the extra sensitive frenulum, the sweet thing sniffling and wetting your shoulder with tears. He tried to speak, “K-Ko- hah, haaah, mmh, fuck!” Your other hand— once tight in his perfect hair slid down to cup his overfull sac. You squeezed at the heated flesh. Soldat muffled his wail, hands scrabbling at your body.

His back was painfully arched, you ordering him to relax some. He did with a pitiful mewl, soaking more tears into your turtleneck. You grinned at the tell-tale little sobs. He’d get so pitchy you felt bad for your simple little weapon, his throat probably hurt even more from the high sounds. You husked in his ear, “That’s it my good boy, singing so pretty for your commander, you needed it baby.”

He was rutting into your fist with abandon, the left arm going off with buzzing signals. You dug your thumb into his weeping slit, guided a gentle finger holding his balls to that loose skin behind. You pressed up and gasped when Soldat almost crushed you with his arms, shaking and coming apart at the seams. The asset couldn’t catch his breath, aborted tiny cries leaving his swollen throat.

He wept openly now— flushed member shooting rope after rope of white cum. He stained your already ruined top and flooded your fist. You pumped Soldat through the climax until he mewled and shied away. He seized your lips again passionately, pouring singleminded need into the action. You kissed the perfect asset back, pressing your tits against his broad chest. You wanted to steal him away in the moment, leave with the priceless thing and start anew somewhere.

But that wouldn’t happen. He’d realize you’re just as tainted as the rest of Hydra and probably kill you as his brain inevitably cleared up. So you’d enjoy your pliant, perfect toy for now. You mumbled against insistent lips, “Baby did so good, Commander loves you. Precious star.” He teared up again— not sure where he remembered another voice telling the asset that he was loved.