#the only time you /don't/ take a drink/shot is when he's sitting 'properly' in a chair with both feet on the floor

[nikka-v]

Apocalypse - Joel Miller x fem! Reader smut

Summary: y/n is raised by Bill and Frank and since they found her they always protected her. Then when two guests arrive, she found a herself crushing on the handsome, older man.

Warnings: nsfw, swearing?, smut, first time (p in v), oral (fem! receiving), age gap! (reader is in her 20s), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys)

Minors DNI, please!!

Hope you like it and I really hope that there won't be many mistakes because I'm not from English speaking country so the grammar is sometimes a bit complicated ♥️

When you first met Joel you were only a child and you technically did not meet him, you just saw him through your window. Bill did not want Tess or Joel to see you or even know about you even though the second thing quickly happened as Frank told them accidentally.

"Have you met any other people around here?" Tess asked Frank who was the only one mainly talking. Bill was his usual self, sitting quietly and carefully watching the two newcomers while slowly drinking his glass of wine.

“Except y/n no. Not even any raiders actually." firstly he did not even realize that he talked about you but Bill quickly shot him a displeasing look. He was extremely protective of you even when you were not his kid. He was the one who found you and brought you home to Frank so he felt the need to protect you all the time.

"y/n? Who is that?" Tess was curious, well who would not be in a world like that when the only 'people' you mainly meet are these undead creatures or people who are trying to rob you? Frank looked at Bill as if he was asking for his permission to tell them about you but even if he shook his head it would not make difference as Frank already started talking.

"She is like our daughter. Well, obviously not by blood but we are raising her like that. Bill found her when he went to see one of the towns a few miles away, it was completely burned but he found there some of the infected hoarding around a small wooden cottage. The parents left their kid there to die because they could not handle taking care of her anymore when she broke her ankle. They even told her that and then said that she will manage on her own better, that the raiders won't kill, they did not think about infected at all." Frank was explaining and surprisingly both Tess and Joel were hanging on to all of his words. "That happened two years ago, she was seven at that time and let me tell you, she was stubborn and had a heart of a fighter, which is making her really hard to raise but we love her. Actually, it would be fun to show her some new people, don't you think?" that question was meant for Bill who quickly rose from the table and shook his head at Frank.

"Not a chance. We do not know these people at all Frank, they will not see her!" Bill was almost screaming at Frank which made him feel really bad later that day but at that moment he thought it would be the only thing stopping him from showing his little girl to some strangers. They did not see you standing near the window, watching the whole situation, carefully so no one would notice you took your small polaroid camera, taking a quick photo of the strangers who were just quietly watching your two guardians arguing. As you looked at the photo and then back at them you felt the man's gaze on you, he could not see you properly, just saw a figure but you quickly hid anyway and stayed hidden until they left, looking at the polaroid photo you took.

You've seen them a few more times but they never saw you, as Bill was strictly against it. So when they stopped coming over you were not that mad but kept the photo anyway, just so you could maybe one day recognize them.

Years went by, during days you helped both Bill and Frank when they needed and later when they fell asleep you disabled the security system and sneaked out. You were walking outside of the fence, waiting for something to happen, for some infected to show or a person to show but for such a long time nothing happened so you kinda started to wish you could go explore other towns and cities. Just to escape the boring life, even though the boring life kept you alive, or at least that's what Frank told you when you confessed to him about your small trips and the wish of going away. He was not angry, that was the difference between Bill and him, Bill would scream and say some nasty stuff but Frank just stared at you blankly and then told you to be careful and take a gun with you. You felt terrible and that's maybe the reason why you stopped thinking about leaving for another few months. Until Joel came at least.

It was one of the calm days, you just celebrated your twenty-second birthday few days ago so you were sitting on a roof with camera that you got from Frank. You got there from the window of your room, watching the area through the scope of your rifle which Bill gave you so you could train shooting and you were surprisingly good. At first, you did not want to believe it, thinking it was maybe just a lost infected but later you realized it was in fact a human being. Actually two of them. Taking your walkie in your hand you quickly informed Bill and Frank who were cooking lunch together.

"Dads? We may have a problem here." you started to call them that when you were twelve. They saved your life and took you in as if you were their kid so it was not a huge surprise that you felt like they were fathers to you.

"What is it y/n? Are you okay?" Bill answered worriedly and you heard him run out. You quickly got down from the roof thanks to a rope you had there from your night walks (a few weeks ago you said to Bill that it was there for emergencies if something happened) and pointed to the horizon where walked the two figures, letting him take your rifle to look through the scope.

"Son of a bitch, get inside y/n and do not come out until I tell you so." you hesitantly looked at Bill who gave you back the rifle and murmured quietly 'please' which made you get back on the roof and to your room. You wanted to know what was going on so you hid behind a curtain and looked through a small hole. You expected Bill to take another gun but he walked closer to the fence, Frank right behind him and opened the gate. Because of the distance, you could not hear what they were telling the other two people but when you took your binoculars to at least look at these people, you recognized them. They were the people from the photo you kept in your nightstand. Joel and Tess. You remembered their name only because Frank told you and you wrote it on the back side of the photo.

"Come in, oh my God Tess, it is so nice to see you again. And the same goes for you Joel." you finally heard Frank's voice as the four of them got closer to the house.

"We are travelling to find Tommy. He's not communicating so we just wanted to stop by and ask if we could stay here one night and tomorrow get going again." Tess explained carefully, probably not to upset Bill but Frank immediately stepped into the conversation.

"Of course, it will not be a problem, right Bill?" he looked at Bill with a stern look which he rarely had to use, mainly because Bill listened to almost everything that Frank wanted.

"Thank you so much, look, we have some new seeds which of course won't be enough to pay for your generosity, but we are willing to give your also some of our supplies and help you with anything you want of course." Tessa was now talking to Bill who just nodded and they all started to walk towards the house again. You leaned towards the window a bit more as you could not see them too much, knocking over a box with some vinyl which you kept in your room. Before you could hide again, Joel's head looked up, making quick eye contact before hiding again. On his face appeared a small smirk as he saw you for a brief moment. He immediately knew who you were.

"No, you can't take her there to meet them." you heard after few minutes Bill's voice behind your door, so you quickly skipped towards them and leaned your ear on it so you would hear the conversation.

"They proved themselves to you many times before, why would they all of sudden do something to us?" Frank was speaking quietly so you barely heard him but they were really close to your room.

"We have not seen them for many years and all of sudden they show up here, that is strange." you tried to remember when you saw them for the last time and it was really a long time ago.

"That is not strange, we were communicating through the radio once in a few months, they are our friends or at least mine, so I am sure it is going to be okay." there was silence behind the door for what felt like few minutes, you already started to think that they left but then a knock on your door startled you, making you jump from the door a bit.

"Yes?" you opened it, seeing Frank who was smiling almost as much as when you first told him to teach you how to play piano.

"We want you to meet someone if you are up for it." it did not take even two seconds for you to nod.

"Yes, of course." Frank led you downstairs, where in the kitchen were sitting the only other people you've ever seen in the house.

"We thought that now when you will be here for the night it would be good to introduce you. This is y/n, the girl I've been telling you about a few years back. Y/N, this is Tess and the grumpy man is Joel." you smiled at them, shaking hands with Tess who smiled at you as well and then when you turned to shake hands with Joel, he was completely and absolutely captivated by you. His lips were parted a little, looking into your eyes as if he saw a miracle. You felt the heat in your cheeks as you smiled at him again and then quickly turned to Frank who was setting up the table meanwhile.

"Can I help you somehow?" you asked him, wishing for him to send you for some stuff but he just shook his head.

"It's all set actually, so no need, but thank you." Frank poured wine into the five glasses on the table and after a few more minutes, when you all sat at the table and were waiting for Bill to bring the food, he brought some fish he caught in the morning that day. The whole time when you were listening to Tess and Frank talking you felt Joel's gaze on you. It was not uncomfortable, not at all, you wanted that man to watch you and maybe even touch you. He was trying so hard not to look at you but he was failing so hard, he just could not help it. You were sitting opposite him, next to Tess so he could pretend to just look at her but actually, it was you and you were aware of that.

"Could you show Joel one of the guest bedrooms? I am going to take Tess to see the garden, so I will show her the other one later." Frank asked you nicely after lunch when Bill was cleaning up alone from the table and then in the kitchen even though both of the guests and you offered your help.

"Sure." that was the only thing you managed to get out of you as you stood up and started walking towards the stairs where you waited for Joel. You could not help yourself but look properly at him, almost scanning him with your eyes.

"Thank you for showing it to me, darling." you had to take a deep breath when he called you that. You basically knew him for only like an hour, so you did not want to show him how attracted you were towards him but let's be honest, after so many years with only your 'fathers' you were horny as fuck and could not handle men affecting properly.

"Here it is, we do not use it normally but the bathroom works and some men's clothes are in the closet, so you can take shower and then change if you want." you tried not to make eye contact by opening the curtains and looking out of the window but after few seconds you looked anyway.

"Thank you again, you really are a good girl." that almost made your knees stop working so you quickly smiled and walked to the door, before saying quick 'bye' and sliding to your own room which was just a few steps from the one where he was. Leaning your back on the door you almost shouted from the feelings that were screaming inside your head.

---

For the rest of the day you were in your room, hiding from everyone, mainly the brown-eyed man who made you want to have sex with him so much. You thought that maybe he did not do it on purpose, that maybe you were imagining all these things but that was not true at all. He was thinking about you the whole day when he was helping Bill around the fence and the house. He could not get you out of his head. You were an angel sent from heaven, that's what he thought.

You wished that they would not have to leave the next day and somehow your wishes came true. Tess fell from a ladder when she was trying to help Frank pick fruits from his tree garden. She did not break her ankle but she bruised it really badly so it was hard for her to walk, so they had to stay for another few days. Both you and Frank were thrilled, even though you did not show it that much but Bill was almost ready to kick them out. It was only because you said to him, that you like the company, that he let it be and let them stay longer.

Joel was always trying to be close to you when it was possible. Helping you carry heavy stuff, even though you were more than capable to do it by yourself, sitting next to you at the table and more importantly leaving small touches on your body when walking around. For example, on your waist, as he was walking around you in tight spaces or just leaving his hand on yours for a brief second when you gave him his coffee or some tools when he asked you to bring him something.

It all happened two days before he and Tess were supposed to leave. Everybody was already in their bedrooms sleeping, that's what you thought when suddenly you heard a quiet knock. You were on the roof but the window was opened so you called on whoever was behind the door to come in. When you saw Joel, you almost wished you could jump from the roof because of how much chemistry was built between you two in the previous days. You could not take any more of it. You were planning on telling him everything the next day so if he laughed at you, he would leave the next day and you would not have to see him again for a long time.

"Can I come in?" he asked as if he did not already close the door behind himself and walked closer to the window.

"Sure, you can come out here as well." you offered and watched how he hesitated for a second but then got out of the window and sat next to you. You were wearing only a long shirt and shorts so your naked legs were touching his because he was wearing just shorts and some hoodie which he found in the closet. You immediately felt goosebumps all over your body so you took a sip of a wine which you brought from the kitchen. Bill did not like you to drink alone but what he does not know does not hurt him, right?

"Why are you sitting here?" he asked nonchalantly and drank from the bottle which you handed him. You had to think about what to tell him but the silence between you was comfortable so you were not in a rush with your answer.

"I like when the world is dark and quiet like this. I can freely think about anything, for example, how is the world out of here. It is such a long time since I've been out there with Bill and saw other places." you explained, looking at the moon which came out from behind the clouds. Of course, you've done a fair amount of exploring by yourself but you were curious about bigger cities and other groups.

"The world is beautiful but terrifying out there. Infected are almost like the smallest problem there. Raiders who are killing anyone in their way and doing other bad things." you knew what he meant by that. Both Bill and Frank told you that many raiders would take advantage of finding a girl like you out in the world.

"I would love to see the world, I don't want to be stuck out here. I love Bill and Frank and I know they want the best for me but I just can't stay here my whole life." you were not complaining but you somehow knew that Joel would understand you.

"I get it, I really do, but let's be honest, even if you could fight and shoot like a pro, it is so hard to survive out there by yourself. You can't leave alone." even though you were looking at the sky, you knew that he was watching you. He was so scared that you would be by yourself and some people would come and kill you or hurt you any other way.

"I know, I am not leaving today if that's what you want to hear." he did not say it out loud, but he felt relieved because of that.

"Okay, that's good to hear, I am sure Bill and Frank would be devastated if you left without saying goodbye." he said instead, making you feel a little hurt because you thought that he did not care about you at all and just was thinking about how your 'dads' would feel, but you quickly shook your head when he was not watching you, to make yourself think straight.

"You and Tess are leaving in two days, right? It is nice to see a couple like you." you still were not sure what exactly was the deal between them. Were they a couple? Friends with benefits? Just friends or partners? You were hoping he would correct you.

"Yeah, that's right." again the hurting somewhere close to your heart before he spoke again. "And we are not a couple. There were some moments where we could be called a couple but we are just friends," he added, watching closely your reaction which you tried to hide but you breathed out with relief anyway.

"Okay, sorry if I am snooping too much." he laughed, quietly but you heard it anyway. His hand on which he was leaning was dangerously close to yours and you started to realize that and moved it a bit closer. Just a few millimetres so he would not realize it, but he did. He was studying all of your moves, wanting to know what was going on in your head.

"Don't worry about it, I don't mind." the bottle in your hand was quickly empty so you put it away next to a few other bottles which you hid so Bill would not find out about you drinking alone.

"I will probably head to bed," you said quietly and looked into his eyes while starting to get inside, where you waited for him to get in, and then you closed the window, making sure to close the curtains as well. Joel was watching you curiously and before you realized he was behind you, you stepped back and bumped into him. "I am so sorry!" you quickly turned to him but did not step away and neither did he. Your faces just were just a few centimetres away from each other and his hands gently touched your waist.

"That's okay, actually I really like to have you so close," he whispered, his eyes jumping from your eyes to your lips. But you were the one who broke the distance, connecting your lips to his. Your hands moved from his chest where they were resting to his shoulders and then behind his neck, pulling him closer to you. He immediately kissed you back, not hesitating for even a second his hands moved to your cheeks, holding you as if you wanted to run away.

So many emotions in just one kiss. You could not believe that this was happening and neither did Joel who for a split second thought that it could have been a dream. He dreamed about you almost every night. You, in his bed or in the shower with him, touching him all over and him doing the same before pressing himself against you and fucking you senseless. But then he realized what was happening and pulled you away just a few centimetres, looking straight into your eyes.

"y/n is this your first time doing anything?" you were a bit scared of this question, thinking that if you said 'yes' he would not want to have anything with you.

"Well, yes but I want it." you had to look away so that if he said something bad you would not have to see his face. But he took your chin with his fingers, making you look at him.

"If you really want it, I can give it to you. I would do anything for you. I can not tell how much I wanted this to happen." as he was speaking you felt sort of relieved that he was saying that but still you were a bit scared. No of the act itself or that it would hurt but because he would think that you are bad at it or something but all these worries melted away as he kissed you again. Slowly his hands travelled down your body, searching for the hem of your shirt which you helped him pull over your head. As he saw your naked body with just shorts on, he had to stop himself from hurrying, he wanted to make it nice for you, wanted to be gentle as much as possible so you would enjoy it.

You put your hands on your breast, shy a bit because of how he was watching you even though the room was kinda dark, just two candles lit at your nightstands. Joel quietly laughed, kissing your forehead before putting his hands on yours, pulling them away so he could see you.

"You are so pretty, baby," he whispered, kissing your neck suddenly, making you whimper quietly as he touched your ribs and then his hands travelled to your chest, caressing your breast. His hands were gentle but rough at the same time and he started to move lower with his kisses, stopping at your stomach as he kneeled in front of you. He then touched the hem of your shorts, questioningly looking at you, asking for permission, which made it even more erotic more you.

"Please, Joel, just touch me somehow." you were needy and who wouldn't if someone like Joel would kneel in front of them? On his face appeared a small smile again, he loved finally seeing you from this perspective. Slowly pulling down the shorts along with your thongs which you stole in a lingerie shop on one of your night runs to the small town nearby.

"Oh god, so beautiful." all these compliments he was giving you caused you to get wetter every second. He looked you in your eyes, waiting again for any sign of discomfort but you gave him the type of look which told him every reassurance he needed. You were absolutely devoted to him, wanting to go all the way with this man who you properly knew for only a few days.

Before you could beg for his touch again, his hand move to your thighs, making your legs spread a little and as you looked at him, he moved closer to you, gently with one stroke licking your clit. You were thinking about one thing, if this felt this good, how will the sex feel? Can it be even better? You could not think much more, he started to suck on your clit, his hands still on your thighs, thumbs rubbing small circles on your skin.

"Joel, that feels so good." you moaned, maybe a bit too loudly, but lucky for you, no one was in the room next to yours. You almost did not notice one of his hands disappear from your wast, entering you with one finger.

"Do you touch yourself, love?" he moved just a few centimetres away from your clit, looking up at you, provoking you with the naughty smirk he had on his lips. Of course, you did, lately more than ever, but who could judge you, it was an apocalypse and you could not be sure if you would ever meet men or women with who you could be sexual.

"Sometimes." you definitely did not want to lie, but why would you tell him how often, right? He probably believed you or if he did not, he did not show it on his face, instead, he put his mouth to use again, hitting the important spot with his finger to which he added one more. You were trying to get steady as your knees started to buckle under the rush of pleasure you were feeling. Joel probably noticed that, as he pushed you a little, so you could have leaned back on the window sill, at least gaining a bit of balance.

One of your hands was in Joel's hair, gently pulling so you would not hurt him but instead of it to show him how good he was making you feel. Of course, you were moaning more loudly because of how close to your first orgasm of the night you were but you were all in for physical contact as it was really important for you.

"Come on baby, cum for me." the hoarse voice of Joel, made you realize how close you really were. As you tried to contain your moans, you bit your lower lip, your head tilted back and the knuckles on your hand with which you were holding the window sill, got white as a result of how much you pressed it.

When you once read about women's orgasms, you found the book in the library, you read about the stars in front of the woman's eyes when it was really good. Well, Joel was definitely good at what he was doing as you really saw stars and it took you a few minutes to calm yourself down. These few minutes Joel was holding you in his arms, letting you lean on him with his full weight.

"That was amazing," you whispered to his chest, your hands on his stomach under his hoodie, He was looking down at you, a tender smile on his face, contemplating how beautiful you were with red cheeks, a bit teary eyes and chewed lips.

"Do you still have energy?" he asked, softly kissing your forehead. You looked into his eyes from under your lashes and smiled as if you still had the energy to do anything. He slowly picked you up and let you put your legs around his waist as he brought you to your bed, where he gently, so he would not hurt you, laid you down and then leaned above you to kiss you on your lips. The kiss lasted probably a few seconds but you wanted it to last forever.

Joel kneeled above you, took off the hoodie and threw it somewhere next to the bed. You already saw him without his shirt when he was helping outside in the sun and was too hot in his usual shirt but now it was much more erotic. He noticed you looking at him and kissed you again, he could not resist you, and probably would do anything you would ask him to at that moment.

"You sure, you wanna do it?" he asked you and somehow that made you more aroused. You liked how he wanted your permission, it was important to you.

"More than anything right now." your voice was more like a whisper as you were starting to get a bit nervous but man, you wanted him to do it immediately. You wanted to feel him inside you, you needed it.

"Look, I am going to be careful, if something was too much, just tell me okay? I will stop immediately." he was a bit worried, you could have heard it in his voice.

"I am sure, it's gonna be okay. No need to worry." you smiled at him, trying to make him feel better, which helped as he smiled back and raised from the bed to take off his shorts and boxers which he had underneath. Before you could properly look at his naked body, he already was above you, between your knees, massaging your sensitive clit again to make you wet, but that was not a problem at all so continued with himself.

He stroke himself a few times but he was already rock hard for some time now. He had to relieve himself the day before just because he saw your side boob in one of your shirts before you went to sleep, so he could not get more aroused by you. He guided the tip of his cock to your entrance, slowly pushing himself into you, not wanting to make it painful.

It was okay for a few seconds but Joel was a lot bigger than you thought, making you stretch around him. You rigged your nails in his shoulders, chewing your lips again, your eyes closed.

"Slowly, please," you whispered to his ear as he lean closer to your neck to kiss you. He tried, he really did and it was really hard given the fact that it was a long time since he had sex and you were so damn tight. It took you some time to get adjusted to him but it was still not enough.

"It's okay baby, we can leave it be, we can try tomorrow, I can prepare you better." he was trying to talk you out of it so he would not hurt you but you were stubborn and too needy for this. You shook your head, not wanting to give up.

"I can try to sit on you." just this sentence almost made Joel cum, you were just so innocent. He pulled himself out, laying on his back, helping you to get above him. You weren't scared, you knew that if he hunted you like this, it would not be his fault but yours because of how stubborn you were, but you just wanted it, needed it.

"Slowly okay? No need to hurry." he tried to calm your movements and hold you by your waist as you took his cock to your hand to guide yourself to it. Slowly you started to lower above him, stretching more than before. The soothing words that Joel was whispering, like 'it's okay, take your time my love' and 'you can do it baby' helped you a lot with the pain which started to disappear. You did not sit at him properly, you both knew that Joel will have to do the last movement but he wanted to wait for your signal.

He turned you both so he could be again above you and with a long kiss on your lips he thrust into you, making you moan and cry out a little.

"So brave for me," he whispered after a few seconds before he started to move a little. The pain was slowly fully replaced by pleasure and you could not hold the moans anymore, kissing Joel to silence yours and his whimpers.

One of your hands was on his shoulder, the other you moved to his waist and then lower, to his ass, pulling him closer to you with each thrust. The little whimpers he made when you moved to kiss his neck made you feel so good, hearing that he was also enjoying that.

"I don't think I will last any longer, my love." when he called you like that a few times, you started to feel this nice feeling in your stomach and now it really affected you a lot more. And in just a few more seconds you felt his fingers on your clit, rubbing circles on it to make you cum along with him. And you did. As you got closer, you tightened around him, making him grunt a little and accompanied by your loud moan you felt him filling you. It was like ecstasy, you thought that you've never experienced such a good feeling as sex with Joel.

The only noises in the room were your deep breaths. Joel lay next to you, pulling you into his arms, which made you feel really good. You needed someone to hold you for so long. All the nice feelings made you suddenly realise that he was supposed to leave soon and leave you there only with Bill and Frank. You looked at Joel with tears in your eyes which scared him a little.

"What is it, baby? Are you okay, is something hurting you?" he asked with concern in his voice but you shook your head to reassure him, that you were okay like physically.

"You are leaving soon." in his eyes appeared the sudden realization of the fact that he still was planning to leave to find his brother. He loved his brother and needed to know that he was okay but he really cared about you and did not want to leave you. He wanted you by his side, actually no, he needed you.

"I need to know my brother is okay." he wanted to take you with him but did not want to risk your life even though you would have him and Tess to protect you. He was not sure what to do.

"I will go with you," you suggested immediately, knowing that he was already thinking about it from the look on his face.

"You know I would love to have you with me, but what if something happened? Your dads would kill me." he tried to joke a little but you just wanted to go with him, not caring about what they would think. You knew they would be doing just fine without you.

"I do not care, Joel, please, let me come. I know how to fight and shoot, I can take care of myself and help you and Tess." you were looking into his eyes, almost begging him to take you with them. Not only that you would be with him but you could explore the world and finally see the proper cities you wanted.

"We will talk about it tomorrow, yes?" he asked, kissing your forehead, and making you close your eyes. "We will try to think of something," he added as if he was convincing himself more than you.

And as you nodded and started to slowly fall asleep, the last thought you had in your mind was, that he could disappear before you wake up and come back only if he will find his brother and survive.

[gabessquishytum]

Really truly love wallflower dream having just a giant cock. Also this is a dream who already dated calliope who definitely taught him how to use it.

But he’s so awkward and withdrawn that hob gets the idea that dream is a virgin.

And hob, his coworker, is really very interested in him.

Hob always flirts with dream. He sits on Dream’s desk so that his skirt rids up and Dream can see where his stockings clip into his garters. He brings Dream coffee “just because” and is very gentle and sweet, assuming that Dream needs to be wooed.

So at a work event when hob finally makes a move, he expects dream to be timid. Instead, dream puts down his drink, lays a hand on the small of hob’s back and guides him out.

At Dream’s place, before hob can even start to tell Dream they can take it slow, dream has him pinned to the wall and is somehow working hob’s underwear off without removing his skirt or heels. From the very intense rimming hob gets to the very long rounds of intensely precise fucking, hob gets the picture very quickly that dream is no virgin.

Actually he’s going to wear hob’s arse out.

Oh he's a dark horse 👀 Hob is like, where were you hiding THAT giant monster all this time?? Dream’s dick is so big it bows down under it's own weight, even when he's rock hard. Hob has to reevaluate every assumption he's ever made. Because not only is it massive, Dream absolutely knows how to use it properly. Hob has been with plenty of men with big dicks and has often found them to be worse bed-partners because they simply presume that being big is enough and they don't need to work hard. But Dream is not like that.

He stretches Hob wide enough to get a whole hand inside, and it doesn't even hurt for a moment. Hob is so relaxed and pliant, and Dream is so generous with the lube. Not to mention, he makes Hob cum twice by absolutely assaulting his prostate with his long thin fingers. That's before he puts his cock anywhere near Hob’s hole. When he does fuck him for real, its like Hob can feel it all the way up to his chest. He's so full and so high on pleasure and so fucking content, he knows that he's never letting this incredible man walk away.

Afterwards Dream is blushing and apologising as he cleans Hob up (his cum-shot was very enthusiastic, and Hob got thoroughly splattered). He's back to the shy sweetheart that Hob knows and loves. Hob can't help but laugh and kiss him - again and again and again. Tomorrow he'll happily limp into work and stake his claim on Dream in front of everyone, but right now, all he wants is to show Dream that he's perfect. Just the way he is.

[yoonlattesworld]

Need you so bad

Main masterlist

Husband yoongi x wife reader one shot

Synopsis: in which, you feel like he doesn't love you anymore which was the result of him working and neglecting you for almost a month. So of course he has to show you how much he needs you.

Genre/warnings: married au,fluff, smut , angst, unprotected sex,breeding kink,dom yoongi, slight fingering, dry humping, husband yoongi, needy sex,yearning,edging,sir kink.

Taglist (open) ♡ @bunnyrhe @rosquilleta @creatorspalace @raineandskye @shymagda-7 @yoonaasa

Author's pov

You sighed watching the empty side of bed where your husband was supposed to be. The sheets were cold meaning he has been gone since hours. You lost count of how many times it has been that he came home late after you fell asleep and went to work early when you were still sleeping. The only time you can manage to see him was if you wake up at early hours so you could catch him before he left. It almost made you feel as if he's doing it on purpose so he doesn't have to see you.

You know you shouldn't feel like this. You have always known that he is very passionate about his work and take pride in it. But you can't help it. Not when it's been almost a month since you properly saw him. Hugged him, kissed him. When was the last time you even had a proper conversation with him? Are you the only one who misses him? Does he not feel this way? And even as you miss just being with him, your body yearns for him too. And it hurts to think that you're the only one who is yearning for him when it's been more than a month since you both had any intimacy.

You sniffle quietly and brush away the small tear that managed to escaped before getting up to take a shower. Even while brushing your teeth,you miss him when you're suddenly reminded of the time when you both used to brush together when you were dating. Or when you both would share a sweet, innocent kiss after brushing which would sometimes turn into a more heated one. Which would end up with you pinned against the shower wall. Even in those times,you felt safe,loved.

Sighing you got out of the shower and wore one of his hoodie over some comfortable pajama pants. You were planning to go grocery shopping today but now you just want to crawl back on the bed and silently sit by yourself. After drinking your coffee, you busied yourself with work in hopes of not thinking about him. You're sure you cleaned the whole house spotless by noon and realized it was almost 2 pm. Not having the mood to make a proper meal you ate your favorite ramen. You were going to eat alone anyway.

You managed to go through half a day without having constantly reminded of him, thanks to all the chores. But now after eating, you realized you had nothing to do anymore other than sitting on the couch alone with a thin blanket wrapped around you.Mindlessly changing the channels, you don't know when you picked up your phone. Or when you scrolled through his number. But before you could stop yourself, your thumb had already clicked on his number and only when you heard the ring, did you realized what you had done.

A ring went by and you immediately panicked when his deep voice was heard. "Hello? Y/n are you alright?"

Your heart soared. His first response to your unexpected call was to make sure you're fine. Well you couldn't blame him because you never called him during work hours. "Y/n? Baby you there?" Oh you forgot the call was on. Clearing your throat you responded "y-yeah I'm alright "

It was silent for a moment before he said "you sure? You don't usually call me around this time"

Great now you even made him worried. Feeling tears welling up you said "I'm fine i-i just wanted to know if you're coming home tonight? Are you busy right now?" You didn't noticed the small crack in your voice but he did.

"I'm in a middle of something but i can come home right now babygirl. Are you sure you're fine?"

Hearing the concern in his voice only made more tears fill in your eyes and you only felt worse knowing you disturbed him when he was working. "Oh" you sniffled pulling the blanket tighter and mumbled "n-no you don't need to come home it's okay just make sure to take a break and eat properly. Bye" you went to hang up knowing you'll start sobbing if you heard his voice any longer but he wasn't going to let you do that.

"Y/n don't hang up" hearing his deep voice your thumb froze over the red icon and you hesitantly placed the phone back over your ear. You can imagine him running his hair through his hair right now. Sometimes he did when he was stressed or frustrated. "Talk to me doll. What happened?"

Not being able to hide it,a sob ripped through your throat. A sound that immediately send yoongi into a frenzy of worries. Feeling his heart clenching at the broken sound he stood up from his office chair "y/n? Baby what's wrong? Are you hurt? What happened?" He was about to take his suit jacket when the next words you whispered halted his steps.

"Do you still love me?" Silence was all you heard through the other line making you doubt your actions. You chewed on your bottom lip nervously not hearing any response . Another second went by before you uttered "y-yoongi?-"

"What did you say?" Your eyes widened when you heard the anger in his voice. It seemed more than anger. Almost fury. "Y/n. What did you say?" You were biting your bottom lip so hard you winced when you tasted the metallic liquid. Taking a deep shaky breath, you whispered "do you love me anymore?"

The line went dead silent before you looked at the phone surprised when you realized yoongi hung up. He cut the call. What does that mean? You let out a muffled sob, trying to hide the sound by your hands as more tears spilled from your eyes. Sniffling you wiped your face and stood up, going to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water. You're almost sure he won't come home today. You just want to go back to the time when he was sweet boyfriend. Why did this have to happen? What if there is someone else? Someone better than you?

After drinking the water you went over to the sink to wash your face, to get rid of the dry tears. After wiping your face you took a shaky breath, making your way towards the stairs but then you heard the door lock beeping signaling someone is entering the password. Turning around a little surprised, you started walking towards the living room. No one usually comes here around this time that's why you were a little startled. But what surprised you more was when the door was ripped open and you saw your husband yoongi walking inside with long strides. His face holding a furious expression. Looking at him with wide eyes you said "y-yoongi?"

He looked at you as if he wanted to devour you as he walked towards you with dominant steps. His jaw was clenched and before you could say anything, he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you flush towards you and smashed his lips on yours causing you to stumble back with a gasp as your hands found their place on his chest. His grip around you tighten and he let out an almost animalistic growl kissing you harder which had you gasping for air as you struggled to keep up with his pace. His other hand went to the back of your head and he gripped your hair pulling you ina deeper kiss causing you to whimper.

"Y-yoongi what's g-gotten into you" you gasped in between the kiss as he continued sucking and biting your lips till they were red and bruised. "How dare you" he groaned with his hand going down inside your pajamas and you gasped as he roughly pushed your panties aside and only now did you realized how wet you got just by him kissing you. A small whimper left your lips when his long fingers came in contact with your womanhood. "Fuck" he whispered kissing and sucking bruises on the sensitive skin of your neck, feeling the wetness on his fingers. "How dare you question my love for you" he growled rubbing harsh circles on your clit causing you to arch your back, as you gripped his arms to support yourself "o-oh yoongi " you moaned as his speed increased and his long finger entered into your tight cunt. Thrusting his finger in and out of your weeping hole, you cried out as he added another finger in, feeling your climax approaching quickly. "Ah yoongi please" you whimpered holding onto his shoulders for dear life as the feeling became too much and just as you were about to come,he pulled his hand back causing you to whimper at the sudden emptiness "no yoongi please"

He slapped your butt roughly and grabbed your hips, pulling you flush against him causing you to gasp as you felt his hardness against you. "You were questioning my love for you? I'll show you much i love you y/n " he murmured moving your hips against his, so that your cunt was rubbing against his hard length "yoongi" you gasped as he suddenly picked you up causing you to wrap your arms around his neck, with your face buried in his neck. His arms around you tighten as he kicked the door shut with his leg and threw you on the bed causing you to gasp as he ripped off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. Pulling you up with one hand he took your hoodie off and threw in on the floor along with your pajamas, groaning as your bare chest came in his view. "Fuck" he hissed coming on top of you amd wrapped his lips around your hardening nipple, massaging your other breasts with one hand as small moans spilled from your lips with your fingers running through his hair.

As he sucked marks all over your chest, his lips came on yours, and he noticed the small bruise on your lips. He didn't need to be told how that happened because he knows that you have a habit of biting your lips when you're nervous. His eyes softened for a moment and he pressed a soft, gentle kiss on your bottom lip before his eyes hardened and he took off his belt and pants along with his briefs, freeing his length which slapped against his abdomen and you whimpered in want, watching the precum already forming . "Yoongi " you whispered, feeling your already damp panties dampening more at the sight. You gasped as he growled and slapped your ass harshly "watch your mouth" "yes sir" you whimpered as his hand went towards your panties and he easily ripped the fabric causing you to gasp at his roughness as he came down, his length brushing against your wet folds.

Groaning he smashed his lips on yours, his hand blindly guiding yours towards his cock and he growled feeling your small fingers wrapping around his dick "fuck. You feel this? You're the reason I'm so fucking hard right now" he grunted, his hips buckling against your hand as you pumped his length whimpering his name. Gripping your wrist he pinned your hands besides your head, grinding the head of his cock against your clit which had you gasping "sir please i need you" you whimpered pulling your hands to wrap them around him but he didn't let you and only tighten his grip . He groaned feeling your wetness against his cock mumbling "how can you think i don't love you anymore. When i need you so much."

You gasped and whimpered at the stretch when he suddenly slammed his length inside your tight hole, pulling all the out with just his tip inside and then slamming back inside causing you to moan loudly "oh my god sir" "god fucking dammit " he hissed when you clenched around him tightly and gritted his teeth, continuously pulling out and slamming back inside. The pace was animalistic, causing you to jerk back everytime he thrusted In, low groans falling from his lips as his eyes watched your beautiful breasts bouncing with every thrust "fucking questioning my love when all i can think about is you" he grunted fucking into you deeper, with his one hand keeping your hands pinned above your head and other one holding you leg against your chest, which gave him a deeper angel. "I-I'm sorry sir!" You sobbed trying to free your hand to hold him, but he would only hold them more tight "no angel you don't get to touch me. Not after thinking about all that bullshit. What else were thinking about hmm?" You moaned not being able to form a sentence but also because you didn't want to tell him. And as if he could read your thoughts he freed your leg and his hand went down between your bodies to rub your clit which threw you into another level of pleasure "hah oh my god p-please yoongi" you cried out as his movements quickened "fucking tell me" he growled sucking harsh marks on your neck.

You sobbed as tears of pleasure ran down your face gasping out "t-that I'm not good enough argh- that t-there is someone better than me- oh sir!" You moaned loudly as his pace increased. He was rough and unforgiving as he gripped your hips in a bruising grip, with the sound of skin slapping increasing as he pounded inside you "God dammit" yoongi groaned thrusting in with long and powerful thrusts "you think there is someone else? That there is someone better than you? Look here" he grunted holding your chin and your eyes fell on the tattoo which was above his collarbone. You sobbed seeing your name printed on his skin. "You see this?" He said signaling to the necklace dangling around his neck. The one you gave him on your second date. It been 5 years since that day but he still wears it. "it's you" he panted leaning his head against yours. You could think nothing besides how much you love him. How important he is to you.

And so, you whispered it in response looking at him with teary eyes as his own stared into yours "i love you yoongi. I love you so much. I-i was scared" you choked up and his jaw clenched. Leaning down he pressed his lips on yours in a much gentle, and deep kiss. Pouring all his love for you in that kiss. Panting your name he wiped the tears softly as his actions got more gentle. His thrusts getting slower and deeper as you felt your high approaching "i love you more than anything in this damn world. Don't ever question my love for you again " he groaned out feeling his balls tightening "I'm sorry sir" you whimpered and he pressed another deep kiss on your lips, whispering "come for me my love" and you did. Harder than you've ever before. Mouth hanging open in a silent scream with tears running down your face, you let the pleasure wrap around you as his arms held you securely and he moaned your name raspily watching you milking his cock.

You managed to whisper "c-come inside me please" as your legs shook because of the powerful orgasm. He growled at your words "fuck.makes me want to fuck my kid inside you. You want that?" You nodded immediately, whimpering softly "yes please yoongi want your kids. Want to be a mother" he groaned burying his face in your neck mumbling "you'll be the most beautiful mother round with my kids. Fuck! I'm coming- " he let out a long groan as his balls emptied with his cock shooting ropes and ropes of cum inside your quivering pussy "i love you so fucking much" he grunted breathing heavily and you whispered "i love you too" closing your eyes tiredly, wincing as he gently pulled his cock out after a moment. He grunted as some of his cum started dripping out of your womanhood and he collected it on his thumb and pushed it back inside causing you to clench around nothing. "Keep it in" he mumbled patting your butt gently and collapsed besides you with a grunt.

After a second he pulled you close to him, holding you securely as you rested your head against his chest, with your arms wrapping around his torso. He gently held your wrist and rubbed it,frowning as he saw the red bruise "fuck does it hurt?" He mumbled kissing your wrist softly and you shaked your head snuggling into his chest "just a little sore" you whispered sighing against his warmth and he mumbled "I'm sorry angel" you looked at him kissing his jaw softly "it's okay yoon. I was just overthinking " he sighed shaking his head and held you tighter "and i should have been there to stop all those thoughts." You smiled softly rubbing his chest as he kissed your head lovingly "i love you babygirl. I'll always love you. And you're the strongest and most beautiful woman in my life. So don't ever think that there is someone else" you nodded whispering "i love you too yoongi. And I'm sorry for asking that" he chuckled although it sounded sad "it's my fault that i made you doubt us. I'm sorry sweetheart " "it's okay mr min" you giggled teasingly tracing the tattoo lightly "when did you got this done?" "Few days ago. But i forgot to show you" he smiled sheepishly causing you to giggle more.

Noticing your eyes dropping with every second he kissed your forehead and mumbled "sleep babygirl. I'll be here when you wake up" you hummed closing your eyes whispering "i love you " "i love you too angel" he murmured watching you slipping into a deep slumber.

When you asked that question, it made him realize just how long he has been neglecting you, his beautiful wife who has been with him with every step in his life. And he was furious at himself for making you feel that way when all you deserve was all the love from him. Sighing tiredly he held you tighter, a small smile making its way to his lips when a sudden thought of a baby's laugh bouncing in this house came to his mind.

~▪︎~

If 6 years ago someone had told him that he would be holding his sleeping wife and his beautiful daughter his arms,he would laughed at the person. Because never did he thought that he would become a successful husband and a dad in the near future. But when you stirred in his arms, whispering a small "yoongi " in your sleep, hugging him and your daughter tighter, he is so glad that you, a freshman in college got locked with him, a senior in his last year, in a classroom whose door was damaged.

Because that was the day he felt like he was alive again,when you looked at him with your wide doe eyes, in that pretty white sweater with those big glasses,and the moment you called him in a panicked state "sunbae i think we are locked " he knew he was in love.

[jeonjungkookenthusiast1997]

Bodyguard For Hire (1) - It's Going To Be a Bumpy Ride

Summary: Bang Chan, a famous body guard, has been hired to protect the daughter of a rice banker. She's a spoiled brat who likes to tease her new body guard endlessly and who's to say he can't flirt back?

This is my own work not a reblog! Please do not repost or translate.

Content Warnings- mafia/ gang au, mentions of violence, flirting, pet names, Y/N is a little brat, bang Chan is also a brat

Word Count - 1,698

Navigation

Chapter 2

The streets of Seoul had gotten more dangerous lately, the local gangs making their presence well known. Y/N's father, a rich investment banker, had growing concerns that his daughter would be targeted leading them to hire a well known bodyguard for her known as Bang Chan.

Y/N had been nervous when she got called into her father's study and frowned when she saw the man standing beside her father as he explained the situation "No refusal or your allowance for the month will be stopped" her father barked at her firmly as he tips his head back swallowing a suspicious looking brown liquid.

Anger started to burn into her heart as her face turns red "what?! This is ridiculous daddy! I don't need a fucking bodyguard" her delicate face scrunches up in distaste as she looks at the stranger, he had short and dyed platinum hair and a small cut across his cheek which looked oddly fresh. His clothes looked crisp and clean at least a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a black waist coat sucking in this waist deliciously. Y/N could admit in her head that he was drop dead gorgeous but that didn't stop her anger at the situation.

"Y/N! Language" her father bites out with a serious expression on his face. Bang Chan stays silent next to him as his dark eyes watch his new client, he takes this time to examine her frame. Her e/c eyes glimmer in the dark light of the room, her mid length hair flowing loosely at her back and a sleek looking black dress adorns her curves, he thinks to himself he might be kind of... Cute if she didn't look at him like he'd just shot her. Shaking his head of such futile thoughts he focuses back on the conversation happening in front of him, "I-" she goes to respond but bitterly realises silence in this instance may work out more in her favor so she simply looks away from her father with a scowl across her face.

"You will not question me again." Her father huffs and he pours himself another drink. "Now go upstairs. I have to speak to Mr. Bang Chan privately" she can't help but roll her eyes at this, "Fine" she grits out as she turns and slams the study door making her way up to her bedroom.

As soon as Y/N is upstairs Bang Chan relaxes, rolling his shoulder slightly as he moves to sit across from the older man.

Bang Chan clears his throat slightly before speaking "She seems... Difficult" the man before him chuckles slightly "Yes, she has a mean stubborn streak it's hard to get through to her once she's made her mind up" the patriarch stops his thought there with a frown before he continues "Do you think you'll be able to handle her?". Bang Chan hums to himself as he thinks "Of course. I have a lot of experience in dealing with people. Especially women like your daughter." he smiles "How much is the pay for this job and how long will I be here?" The older man pulls out a brief case full of cash and pushes it Infront of Bang Chan "This to start, more to follow which can be discussed at a later date, as for your duration..." A deep sigh leaves his mouth as he looks at some documents on his desk "Lets say a 30 days for now, I'll pay you the rest at the end of this month and we can review the contract then" the blonde haired man nods as he thinks the arrangement over "For now I'd like you to properly introduce yourself to my daughter, she may not be happy now but I can only imagine the longer it's left... The worse her temper will become" he ushers the bodyguard out of his study and towards the main staircase, Bang Chan takes a deep breath before climbing the stairs.

He rounds the top of the staircase and stops at Y/N's room, he can hear her inside mumbling angry to herself before he knocks "Y/N let me in, your father wants us to meet" he waits for a moment getting ready to knock again when he hears something soft hit her door and an angry "Go away!" Is shouted from behind the door.

A deep sigh leaves his chest at her antics before he announces he's coming in, turning the handle he opens the door walking in to see his client, Y/N, sat at a vanity table with her arms crossed much like a child he laments to himself "You realise this is part of why I'm here, yes? To keep you safe" she looks at him like he's got 2 heads for a moment before responding sarcastically "Why yes because I need protection from my fucking pillows" she stands up and shoves a pillow into his arms before she throws herself onto her bed.

He sets the pillow back back on her bed and sits down on a chair across from her "You're very stubborn aren't you?" A smirk flashes across her face at his words "one of my best traits" she flicks her hair over her shoulder while watching him carefully "Yeah that attitude is also why your parents hired me" he crosses his legs and looks at her, a frown creases her brow and she bows her head "I know and I know how bad Seoul has gotten recently but I don't need a babysitter" she huffs out "if you're aware of all that then why act like a spoiled princess?" he crosses his arms as his sharp eyes watch her reactions to his words "Because I can! Because it keeps freeloading dicks out of my life" she bites out before finally sitting up slightly resting her weight on her elbows "well news flash kid but I'm not a freeloader. I was hired by your father. I get paid good money dealing with princesses like you 24/7." Her eyes roll back into her skull at his cockiness "Good for you Mr... Whatever your name is" she sneers at him, "It's Bang Chan. Try to remember that." he says with an oddly cold expression "No I don't think I will actually, you see that would mean you'll be staying here which isn't happening" she rolls her eyes again before grabbing her phone from a unit near her bed.

He quickly jumps up and grabs the phone away from her placing it in his pocket "You won't need that." Her mouth opens and closes a few times as she stares at him with wide eyes "You can't do that!" She squeaks out at his actions "Give it back!" She shouts as she lifts her hands trying to grab her device back. He simply shrugs his rugged shoulder at her "If you are going to behave like a child, I'm going to treat you like one" He says in a stern tone "Understand?" His words make her blood boil underneath her skin "I am NOT a child we've been over this, you can't treat me like one I'm fucking 23 you dick" a laugh escapes his chest at her words "23 and still acting like a spoiled brat? Your parents need to teach you some manners... Oh wait..." he snaps his fingers together "that's right. I'm doing that now" he says as he stands up "You can try" she scoffs at him "what was your name again? Bam... Something" she folds her arms underneath her bust "Bang Chan. What was yours again, Princess?" He asks in a sarcastic tone, standing over her "You know fine well what my name is and don't call me princess!" She shouts with her cheeks dusted a faint pink "Alright, Princess" he chuckles. She can see that he's enjoying this, enjoys getting a reaction out of her.

He pushes her gently back onto her bed, but she just lays there in shock not sure how to actually respond to him completely man handling her, he leans over her as she lays down. He's inches away from her face, smirking as he looks her up and down "I'm sure my father didn't hire you to mock me now go away" she pushes him back and stomps to her wardrobe to get her night clothes out "No he did not. But he did hire me to protect you and make sure you're behaving. Even if that means getting up close and personal, you clearly need to learn to respect your elders" He chuckles making her throwing her head back slightly as she laughs "my elders? You can't be more than what... 24? Hardly my elder" he smirks and puts his hand on wardrobe door caging her in "I'm 25. Still your elder" He says while looking into her eyes.

Getting flustered at his close proximity she throws her bed clothes at him effectively pushing him back "You pervert! You just going to stand here while I change for bed now too?!" Bang Chan thinks at this and hums to himself "well... Your father did hire me to look out for you. And to make sure you're not getting into anything... naughty" He smirks as he watches her get all flustered, her face is bright red now "Get Out!" She starts pushing him out of her bedroom "You can come back and stalk me tomorrow, freak!" He lets her push him out of the room but before he leaves he turns to her and says "You're a very interesting person, you know that Princess?" He gives her one last wink and closes the door.

She hears his footsteps thud down the stairs but she remains stood at the door dumbfounded for a few moments before she slams her door shut and dresses for bed. She climbs into her plush bed but she can't sleep, her mind reels of thoughts on her new frustrating and admittedly sexy bodyguard "tomorrow's going to be a nightmare" she groans into her pillow as she rolls over in bed, letting sleep take her after an hour or two.

[selineram3421]

*little dancey dance* I got snacks.

Isekai'd

Part 6: The One Bullet

Part 5

~

Warning! ⚠

⚠ cussing, weapons and guns(pew pew), reader is surprisingly calm, all caps for screeching dialog, bold red italics = sound effects, the probability of death is inching closer and closer ⚠

"Of course this would happen!", you say pacing around your room that you got at a nearby Inn. "Thank you SO much universe! I really wanted to be fucking yeeted into a hell hole of a planet and get stuck in the clusterfuck of events!"

You threw down your coat and let out a frustrated yell, kicking the foot of the bed.

"JUST MY FUCKING LUCK!", you huff and sit down on the bed, starting to calm yourself down.

Ok, think. Its not long till the July military police get here. You look out of your room window. I probably have enough time to get a .22 caliber bullet.

Putting on your coat, you got ready and made sure to take your scythe.

As the suns began to set, you made your way over to see the duel. Making sure to stand nearby to give the bullet to the lady from the diner.

The crazy ass captain shot out the cluster bomb and screams went off.

"Vash! Get down here!", Rosa shouted up at the blonde.

"Tell everyone to take cover!", he responded and turned around to face the falling bombs.

5.....4....3...2..1. You count down in your head.

"BULLETS! I COULD REALLY USE SOME BULLETS!", Vash shouts out after rushing towards the edge of the cliff he's on. "A FEW .22 CALIBERS WOULD BE DANDY!!"

You calmly walk over to the woman backing up.

"COME ON GUYS! ANY TIME NOW!?"

" 'Scuse me Ma'am.", you startle the woman when tapping her shoulder.

"Huh?", she looks at you confused.

"Bullet.", you say and hold it out to her.

She gets the message quickly and takes the bullet before making her way to Meryl.

Whelp, I've done my bit for today. You think and start walking away, not wanting to feel the heat from the explosives.

You don't notice the woman looking for you to properly give thanks.

.

"HURRY! HELP! PLEASE!! I NEED AMMO!", Vash yells before crying out in stress, tears streaming down his face as he lifts his hands to the sides of his head.

"Special delivery!"

The blonde turns his head when hearing Meryl.

"It's from Rosa!", the small woman shouts before reeling back her arm and throwing the one bullet at him.

He jumps to catch it but the bullet is shot out of his reach by the captain.

Not wasting any time, he runs after it.

"Come to daddy!", he gasps between breaths, pushing himself to go faster.

Jumping forward with an outstretched arm, it feels like time slows down as he manages to catch the bullet.

"Got'cha!"

Quickly moving to load the gun, he mumbles, "Much obliged.", in relief as he puts the bullet in the barrel.

As he aims up to the sky, his gun is shot by the captain.

"I don't think so!", the man in uniform says as he runs over to shoot at the blonde.

Vash dodges the bullets quickly and flips the man over his shoulder, letting him bounce off the ground before hitting the man on the back of his neck to knock him out.

Running over to get a piece of the rock, the ace gunman breaks it out before tossing it up high into the air with a shout and takes aim.

BANG!

The rock breaks apart when shot and the pieces shoot off, hitting the bombs surrounding it.

It only takes a second for all of them to explode. The power of the blast forms a dust cloud that extends until it falls off of the rock.

After the July police were detained, the town threw a party at the diner to celebrate.

Vash walks over to the bar and waves at the pregnant woman on the other side. "Thanks Rosa! If it wasn't for your bullet, we wouldn't be here.", he smiles, leaning on the bar counter.

"Don't thank me. Some stranger gave it to me.", she says, getting drinks to serve to one of the tables.

"What? Really?", the blonde says surprised. "Are they still around?"

"Can't say. When I looked back to thank them, they disappeared.", she says and goes out from behind the counter. "Must have been an angel."

Rosa leaves him be and makes her way over to the table with singing drunks.

"An angel?", he blinks.

For some reason, the medic he met a while back comes to mind.

No way. He shakes his head and goes back to his table. It couldn't have been them.

.

..

...

Could it?

.

You were back in your room, making a list of medical supplies to buy before all Hell breaks loose.

Mother fucking Knives. You think and grumble out a few more curses.

"I'm gonna end up broke because of you.", you huff, letting your head fall back and look up at the ceiling.

Doesn't matter, as long as I can help out to ease his conscience. You tell yourself.

Then all of a sudden you feel your ears burn.

"What the heck?", you say and touch one of your ears. "Is someone talking about me?"

You shrug and get ready for bed.

I should sleep now, I'm gonna need the energy for tomorrow. You think and have a feeling that another weird dream is waiting for you.

✴

For some reason you snapped your eyes open.

Standing up and looking around, you find the ship's green house empty. No Rem or little Vash in sight.

Weird. You think, not moving from your spot. Someone's always here.

Then when you decide to turn around, you see an almost identical blonde child standing behind you.

Freezing on the spot, you just stare.

WHAT THE FUCK!? NAI YOU LITTLE CREEP!

"Vermin.", the pale blue eyed boy says randomly.

Did this.. You get pissed off. This little shit!

"Oh please, not every human is trash.", you respond. "Yeah a good amount of them are but that doesn't mean all of them have to die."

All the boy does is frown at you.

"Whatever, all you're doing is trying to protect your brother.", you say and turn away from him to look at the red flowered meadow. "You do carry it out in the worst possible way though."

Silence settles in between both of you after.

At some point you look over at the kid and find him standing next to you, also looking at the flowers.

Not wanting to break whatever 'peace' this is, you look back at the flowers.

...

"Do you think you can protect him?"

✴

I re-watched episode one over and over to get it right.

~Seline, the person.

Next: Part 7

Taglist@

@summerdazed @lunar-archangel @+?

ML Vash | ChL Isekai'd

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Too Much Alcohol (Scarecrow x Reader)

Showing up to a meeting place for a business deal without the Riddler wasn't ideal. Showing up to a meeting without the Riddler when the meeting is with the Scarecrow was a whole other issue.

"I would get comfortable, Edward is hardly ever on time. Only when he thinks it important enough." Jonathan sighed. "Come and have a drink with me." He beckoned you with his finger. You hesitated. "Why?" You asked suspiciously. "Well, because Edward won't be here for a while and you're going to pace a track into the floor doing absolutely nothing." He lifted the bottle on the table. "The brandy will take the edge off." He smiled wryly. It was a fair argument.

Reluctantly you moved towards the couch, sitting on the edge of it, leaning against the side. "You said brandy?" You asked after Jonathan, slid another glass towards you and filled it as well as refilling his own. "Yes and there is red wine over there." He nodded to the pool table. "Why alcohol for a meeting?" You asked. "Do I need a reason?" He countered. You grimaced, once again backed into a corner socially. "I suppose not. You're the Master of Fear and one of the most notorious criminals in Gotham, I guess you don't need a reason to do anything." You uttered quickly. "That's what I thought." Jonathan looked at his glass before taking a sip. He noticed how you were on the brink of falling. "(Y/N), you can scoot over." Jonathan said flatly. "I'm good." You replied quickly. "I'm not going to gas you again." Jonathan said. How could you forget the time Jonathan gassed you and a few other henchmen for the fun of it? "Are you sure?" You asked. "Yes." He replied. You paused. "Clearly you don't know what the Riddler had me put in your hideout." You mumbled. "What was that?" He asked. "Nothing!" You spoke with wide eyes.

You hesitantly met his piercing gaze. Jonathan seemed almost amused by your squirming. Silently he slapped the space beside him, silently inviting you closer. As much as you were uneasy to think what he'd do if you did move, you were just as wary of what he'd do if you refused him twice. You inched closer and Jonathan's arms shot out, grabbing you and pulling you onto the couch properly and sitting beside him, thighs almost touching. He scoffed with a chuckle as he shook his head. You stared at the two glasses. "You gonna drink that?" You nodded to his glass. "Or that?" You nodded to your own. "It...seems kinda planned that you just conveniently have two glass-" "What are you trying to say, (Y/N)?" Jonathan smirked. "I don't know what I'm trying to say, sir. I'm just saying everything I think and I can't help make myself stop." You replied quickly. "Do I make you that nervous?" He asked lightly with a small grin. "I don't think I should answer that." You pressed your lips into a tight line.

You went back to staring at your glass. Your fingers twitched as though about to take it and changing your mind. Jonathan exhaled, putting an arm around your shoulders. "You watched me pour it. You know I haven't done anything to it. It's just anxiety holding you back. I've already told you I'm not going to do anything and you know I wouldn't bother lying to you if I was planning it. Now drink it." He said lowly. "Is that an order sir?" You asked. "It might be." He replied. You took a deep breath before taking the glass and bringing it to your lips. The second the liquid was in your mouth you scrunched your face up using everything in your power to swallow. "That burns!" "You don't drink much do you?" Jonathan sounded amused but looked completely unphased. You shook your head.

Once you had collected yourself, you were back to the stare down with your glass. "So do you want me to drink...all of it? Or can I watch you drink yours and then you drink mine too?" You asked. "Actually I think I'd like to see you finish yours." A mischevious twinkle hit Jonathan's eyes. You sighed. "I really don't like it." You grimaced. "Does it look like I care?" Jonathan countered. "That's a trick question. You don't really emote like a regular human. You just kind of have a...blank expression at all times." Jonathan didn't reply, instead bringing the class and tilting his head back until the glass was empty in one. He brought the glass back down to the table, licking his lips.You raised your glass and offered it to him. "Thirsty?" You asked. "Nice try." He smirked quietly. "Why do you hate me?" You grimaced. "I don't." He replied flatly. "I'm pretty sure you do." You countered.

Once you finished that first glass, Jonathan offered you the wine. Surprisingly the wine was even easier to drink than you remembered. Although when you went through it all, it would be no surprise to anyone that Jonathan was no lightweight. You on the other hand...most definitely were.

Almost two hours passed and you had somehow ended up lying across Scarecrow's lap, rambling about absolutely anything and nothing worthwhile. Yet he appeared to either tune you out or be content regardless as his long fingers traced the skin on your forehead and around your jaw. "(Y/N), you're a little bit of an idiot. Has anyone ever told you that?" He asked lightly. "An idiot who's gonna take down, Batman!" You added and kicked your leg upwards. "I'm sure." He didn't sound convinced and more like he was trying to appease a child. You began to slowly roll off his lap and he quickly pulled you back into him. "Where are you going?" "To take down Batman, silly!" You declared. "Not right now!" He sighed. "Yes now, why not now?" You asked. As you struggled against him you ended up leaning on him, your back on his chest and he held you to him. With one hand he began to play with your hair, making you relax. "Oh, that's nice." You mumbled, relaxing against him and he smiled in amusement. "Anyway, as I was saying..." You began. "(Y/N)..." "The Riddler's last name is so we-" "(Y/N)..." Jonathan said louder. "...shut up-" his voice lowered when he had your attention. "-and kiss me." You looked up at him with a look of confusion. "That's a really weird expression." You said. "It's not an expression." He shook his head with a smile. "What? You really want me to-mmph!" Jonathan broke the space between you, connecting you both in a long kiss. When he pulled back, you blinked a couple of times. You nodded, as though accepting your fate. "Yeah, okay. Does this mean you love me? Like I get to say I made the Master of Fear fall for me and want me to marry him and have babies and all that?" Jonathan quirked an eyebrow in response. "Don't make me take this back, (Y/N)." He said flatly. "Okay." Your shoulders sank. "This can be an abusive relationship between us." He warned you. "It already is, sir. You gassed me for fun." You pouted. He rolled his eyes. "Can I ask you a question before this goes further?" You asked. He hummed, surprised but waited for you to continue. "What's your diagnosis? Like you're super smart and I bet its super awkward to be diagnosed by colleagues. The Riddler tells us all the time about how Arkham misdiagnosed him." "I don't think you'd like my diagnosis very much." He smirked faintly. "I just wonder because you're both super smart but nothing alike...so what did they diagnose you with?" "Sociopathy." Jonathan's smirk grew as your eyes widened.

You did not remember falling asleep yet you woke up on the floor. You groaned. "Oh my head." You noticed the couch beside you and saw an old worn decorative cushion. You tugged it down and cuddled into it. Your groan made Jonathan stir. He turned his head to see your back and smiled slightly. His fingers reached out as he shuffled closer. That was when he saw it. You were clutching a cushion tightly to your face. He pieced together what had happened and blanched. Did you seriously look for something to cuddle when he's right there!? Maybe it was the alcohol plaguing his mind even now but he couldn't deny it to himself. Jonathan, in that exact moment, was jealous of a cushion. He did not get this lucky just to be trumped by a cushion. "(Y/N)..." Jonathan sat up. You mumbled incoherently. "(Y/N)!" He snapped and you shook yourself awake in a panic. Your arm swung and he caught it before you could hit his ear. Your eyes were wide in horror, prepared to meet your doom when- "What are you sleeping with?" He asked blankly. Unexpected question. "Nothing." You murmured. "Clearly not nothing!" He ripped the pillow out of your grasp. "No! Jonathan!" You whined pathetically as he tossed it away. "You have me right here!Why do you need a cushion!?" Jonathan huffed before moving to lay back down. "Because it's nice." You whined again. He paused, leaning on his elbows as he stared into your soul. "Am I not nice?" Jonathan raised an eyebrow sternly. You shook your head. "No...you're actually quite mean." You assured him. "Can't one of us be happy?" "I can be happy." Jonathan fired back, defensive in tone. You shook your head again. "No...no." You didn't even look remotely convinced and didn't even bother trying to pretend. "I'm right here! Why would you need a pillow!?" He huffed. "You think I don't know what you could do to me if I even lean the wrong way?" You countered. "We're together." Jonathan deadpanned. "No, we're not." You replied. "Think back to last night." You did and that's when the memory hit you like a train.

The drinking, the kissing!? Why was there kissing!? You recalled later that night literally calling him your boyfriend and- "Oh no!" You exclaimed, disrupting any and all thoughts either of you could have. You stared Jonathan down in horror. "Riddler!" You screeched before moving to roll away. Jonathan pulled you back to him with an amused smirk and a shake of his head. "The Riddler's going to kill me." You whined, almost coming across as a tear less sob. Meanwhile Jonathan wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "He's gonna kill you and then he's gonna kill me!" "Pull yourself together, (Y/N)." Jonathan sighed. "No, you don't understand. The Riddler is really possessive of his employees which includes associating with outsiders-" "He's not the only one." Jonathan said calmly, his eyes running up and down your body. Suddenly he smiled widely. "We should speak to him now." He pulled back and got up. You panicked. "Um, can we not?" Jonathan left little room for complaint as, with or without you, he walked off to find Edward. "J-Jon-Jon-Jona-Jonathan?" He didn't answer you, leaving you very frightened for the near future.

[broiderie]

Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 1

Alright. Here it is. The first chapter in what was supposed to be just a little one shot to get my writing working again. Now it’s turning into a sequel. No idea how long this ride is going to be this time y’all so bare with me.

Please don’t copy my shit. Like... I promise. You don’t wanna be me. I’ve got too much shit going on right now for anyone to steal my identity or my work so please just be a decent human being. 

Warnings: talk of injury, cursing, mention of past murder.

Megan woke slowly to a quiet shushing sound. She had apparently been attempting to reach for Hank in her sleep as her broken collarbone throbbed relentlessly. Giant hands brushed her hair from her face gently as her eyes opened. 

"Easy, mi princessa. Easy. I'm right here," Hank murmured gently. He was propped up on his side facing her on his side of the bed. They'd tried switching so he wouldn't be on her injured side, but she continually woke up panicking because she thought he left when he wasn't where she had quickly gotten used to him being. Neither of them were getting much sleep either way. "Are you awake, Princessa? Hurting?"

Megan sighed tiredly. " 'm awake," she hissed. She rubbed her eyes. 

"How bad does it hurt? Need your meds?" He asked gently as he helped her to sit up in bed.

"No. Don't want the meds. It'll pass."

Hank watched her breathe through the pain and sighed. "You know that you don't have to push through it, right? You can take the pain relief, baby. Taza and I won't think less of you."

"I know that. I just hate the floaty feeling."

"You hate being less in control…" Taza said from the doorway. "It's like drinking, right?"

Megan nodded. "Morning, Papa."

Taza pushed off the door frame where he'd been leaning with a sigh. The circles under his eyes were just as dark as the ones on Hank's face. Megan noted them as he gently sat to her left. "You promised me you'd try to sleep last night, Papa. You didn't, did you?"

"I did try, Chica. It's only been a few days. We're all still dealing with shit." He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Your padrino called. Wants to see us at the clubhouse this morning."

Megan frowned. "You're needed at the table. Both of you." She nodded and swallowed hard. "I'll be okay for a few hours. I can do it."

Taza shook his head. "All of us, Chica. Not just me and Hank."

Megan looked startled. "But why?"

"Don't know, sweetheart. Guess we'll find out when we get there."

"How am I supposed to get there? Unless you're going to lift your 'no riding' rule?" Megan asked hopefully. She'd been begging to ride the bike with one of them since they'd brought her home in the van. Taza had been firm about her not riding until after the sling came off.

Hank chuckled. "No way, Princessa. Not happening. You can't balance properly."

Megan whined. "I hate not being able to ride with you."

"Maybe this will help. Hank's not riding today either. Your padrino sent you a ride. Prospect dropped it off about an hour ago. Just gotta get up and dressed. We'll have breakfast at the clubhouse. Chuckie said he'd make you pancakes." Taza chuckled and kissed her forehead before getting up to take his own advice.

Hank watched as Megan managed to get herself out of bed. He was trying to not treat her as if she were helpless after a fairly minor blow up on her part by day two of being home from the hospital. She struggled along without the use of her dominant hand and tried not to ask for too much help. She shuffled into the bathroom and Hank heard the water turn on in the sink, so he hurried to get himself up and dressed.

They'd quickly realized that Megan would need help dressing or undressing for a bit after returning home. Any sense of modesty either she or Hank had went out the window pretty quick. It had been a struggle at first for her, but all it took was one good jolt to her sore shoulder before she gave in and called for help. On Hank's side, he was just too relieved that she still trusted him enough to ask for help to worry about his hormones. 

Megan came to the bathroom door and sighed. "Can you help me get the lid off my moisturizer and sunscreen? I tried, but I can't do it one-handed."

Hank smiled sympathetically. "Of course, mi princessa."

Twenty-five minutes and many curses later, they were both dressed. Megan was in another pair of leggings with a long tank top over them. Hank had helped ease it over her cast and shoulder along with one of his flannels. The day was unseasonably cool for Calexico.

She shakily sat on her stool at her dressing table and wiped the cold sweat from her face. Hank pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "Thank you for helping me. I know this isn't exactly normal…"

Hank chuckled and knelt in front of her. "What about us is? Princessa… I'm here. I'm not going anywhere just because you need some extra help." He lifted her good hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Even if you are a terrible patient."

She grinned and leaned forward to kiss him. "I know. I'm sorry."

"At least take some ibuprofen or something? I hate seeing you in pain like this."

She sighed and nodded. "Alright. And I'll take the strong shit tonight so maybe you'll get some sleep."

"Good girl." He kissed her swiftly and stood to go get her some pain relief missing her flinch at his praise. 

Taza heard him rustling in the hallway bathroom medicine cabinet and came to check. "She finally gonna take something?"

"Yeah. If I can find something that won't make her high." He found some old Tylenol in the back of the cabinet. "I'm calling Dogwood today. See if they can get us some stronger ibuprofen or something. Maybe she'll take that."

"Good plan, brother. I'll get Bish to send the prospect. She ready for her hair?"

"Probably. She let me brush it, but that's as far as I can go."

"That's my que…"

After getting her hair braided and taking the Tylenol, they were finally ready to head out for the scrapyard.

Megan’s eyes lit up a bit at the surprise ride Bishop had sent her. In the driveway was a classic Mustang convertible with the top already down. It shone scarlet and chrome in the sun.

"Who's car did we steal?" She asked excitedly.

Taza laughed outright. "No one's, Chica. Just borrowed from a club friend until you can ride again. Came all the way down from Northern Cali."

Hank chuckled. "Who called the  Reaper?"

"No one. Happy sent his prospect down with it. Belongs to one of his guys."

"Happy? Isn't he the one who…" Megan looked up at her father.

"Found you. Yeah. He's… different." Taza went and opened the passenger door for her. "You won't have to be around him much though. He's too high up the Reaper food chain to make regular runs down here. Your Padrinos like him though."

Megan slid into the car and allowed Taza to help her buckle her seat belt. "Well, he has great taste in cars."

Hank chuckled and moved his seat back. "Oh yeah, Princessa? Maybe we should see about getting you one of these then."

The ride to the club house was quiet except for the radio and wind. Hank watched the lines of Megan’s body as he drove and noted how she relaxed at the feel of the breeze. He knew she'd missed riding behind him, but he just couldn't risk it with her injured. He reached out and held her left hand gently as he drove, placing kisses on her knuckles at each stop sign.

Creeper was manning the gate and rolled it fully open so Hank could get the car through to the lot. He met them at the car as Hank parked it. "Mornin' Hank, Little Princess." He opened her door with a dramatic flair. "You alright, sweetheart? How's the arm?"

Megan smiled and slid out the car to give him a side hug. "Morning. I'm good. Still a little sore, but nothing awful."

Creeper nodded. "All the same, we sent the prospect to fill a 'scrip."

"Thanks, 'mano," Hank said as he unfolded himself from the car. "Everyone here already?"

"Yeah. Bish called Templo in the bar again so Megan can be at the table. Chuckie is making breakfast after."

Taza joined them stripping off his riding gloves. "Any idea what this is about, brother? Bish was cryptic on the phone."

"Nah, but he had a call from El Padrino this morning." Creeper bounded up the stairs to hold the door open for Megan as she led the way inside. 

Inside, tables had been pushed together for the promised family breakfast after templo. Everyone was seated and smoking or sipping on coffee as they chatted. Morning greetings were exchanged as Taza, Hank and Megan made their way to the chairs waiting for them. 

Bishop rose to meet them. “Buenos días, Poquito. How’s the arm?” He spread his arms to offer her a hug,

She eagerly accepted, resting under his chin for a moment. “Sore, Padrino. Sorry to keep everyone waiting. I’m still trying to get the hang of getting dressed one handed.”

“No problem, cariño.” He pressed a kiss to her hairline. “And the Prospect should be picking up your new meds now. Your papa says you haven’t been taking any.”

“Thank you, Bish, for arranging that. She’s in a lot more pain than she’s letting on,” Taza sighed. “And thank Happy for the loan of the car. She definitely can’t ride.”

“You can thank him yourself.” He let out a piercing whistle and guided Megan into her seat on Taza’s left, “Alright. Let’s talk so that we can eat.”

Everyone situated themselves comfortably and looked to Bishop.

“El Padrino called today. Apparently the Reaper wants to talk. They want a sit down with the officers of as many allied charters from California as they can get at a lodge outside of Charming. Padrino called to ask that we join them there in two days.”

Taza shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “All officers? We can’t leave Megan yet for a run, brother.” He placed a hand gently on her back. “She’s not healed enough-”

“Not to mention not ready to be out of arms reach of at least one of us for more than a few minutes at a time…” Hank interjected.

Megan reached and took his hand. “If it’s needed - it’s needed. Tío Marcus wouldn’t ask unless he needed you both.” She looked to Taza shakily. “You know he wouldn’t. He didn’t even want to go home until I was back on my feet.”

Both Hank and Taza started to protest again, but Bishop raised a pacifying hand. “Poquito is right.” Megan nodded. “But so are both of you. That’s why she’s coming along. Marcus has promised that Megan can join in everything except the actual meeting. Even then he’s bringing Diana and Tessa to sit with her while we do actual business.” He smiled. “You finally get to meet your cousin, Poquito.”

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Do we know what the Scot wants?” Riz asked. “Gotta be big to be calling a meeting with so many outside of their own club.”

“Not a clue. Some kind of business update. We’ll find out when we get there. If it has to come to the table - we’ll come back and vote it.” Bishop said as he lit another cigarette. 

Hank slid his arm across the back of Megan’s chair so he didn’t put weight on her sore shoulder. “Are we sure about taking ALL the officers? Sounds like a Trojan Horse waiting to happen to me.”

Creeper raised a hand. “Seconded. That’s a risk Prez.”

Bishop nodded. “We’ve been at peace with the Son’s for over eight years, but they’ve turned on us before. This should be a cake walk - but I agree there’s no sense in risking it. Upper officers only then. Creeper and Riz will hang back.”

Megan watched them all nod soberly. “Shouldn’t you take another member then? Someone who can run a message if needed?” She looked at Hank and then at Taza and Bishop. “I know it’s not my place to speak on club matters, but they could be passed off as babysitting me while Papa and Hank do business. Still makes us look a little paranoid - but more so about me freaking out than a double cross.”

Bishop smiled. “Smart thinking, Poquito. This is why we’re holding Templo where you can join. You can always speak when we have you at the table.”

Hank laughed. “Besides - you know Diana is going to have her own escort. Padrino won’t risk having no one there for her to send for whatever Tessa decides she wants. He’ll probably have at least a patch and a prospect with him.”

Taza chuckled. “Truth. All reinas and princessas need to have a guard.”

Bishop just smiled. “You want Coco or Gilly, Poquito? Your errand boy - your choice.”

Megan looked down the table at both men. Coco met her eyes first and smiled around his cigarette. “I’ll come along, Ma. Give me a break from Letty moving in.”

Gilly nodded. “Suits me. I’ve got a date.”

Megan nodded and turned back to Bishop. “Coco then, please Padrino.”

Bishop banged that table with his fist causing Megan to jump a bit. “Fair enough. Then myself, Taza and Coco will ride out with Hank and Megan in the loaner tomorrow morning.” He stubbed out his cigarette and smiled. “Let’s eat!”

Breakfast with the family was exactly what Megan needed. Hank kept a close eye on her body language to see if she was getting overwhelmed. He was pleased to see her begin to relax with someone besides himself and Taza again. 

Chuckie brought her a plate of pancakes and bacon with an awkward little bow while everyone else served themselves from the bar. Gilly made her a cup of coffee - without having to be reminded of how she took it. Angel cracked jokes to make her laugh, and Creeper sneakily cut her food for her when he saw her struggling while trying to talk to Riz about the girls at Vickie’s place. 

He and Taza breathed a sigh of relief. Megan wasn’t panicking around her family. They hadn’t been sure how the kidnapping would affect her in the short term. It had only been about a week since she’d been taken. 

Eventually though, Megan got so distracted in the family that she forgot about her broken collarbone. She tried to reach for her glass of juice with her right hand and Hank saw her go pale with pain. 

“Easy, Princessa. Easy,” he soothed, letting her squeeze his fingers as her eyes teared.

“Woah, Ma. I don’t like that color. You good?” Coco asked seriously.

Megan just nodded and pressed her lips together until they went white. 

Hank glanced around to see Taza headed his way with a pill bottle that the Prospect had handed him a few minutes before. “Shh. Come ‘ere, mi Princessa.” Hank slid her carefully into his lap so that he could steady her and take some of the weight from her sling. “You papa’s got your new meds. You ready to take them now?”

Megan breathed deeply and pressed her face into the crook of his neck. Hank could feel tears on his skin. “They won’t make me floaty?”

“No, Sweet Chica. These won’t make you floaty. They’re just ibuprofen at a higher dose than normal.” Taza shook two out into Hank’s palm and then capped the bottle. 

“Why won’t she take the meds, man? Angel asked Creeper quietly as they all settled down a bit.

Creeper looked at him seriously. “Dude, Little Princess won’t even give up control to drink. SHe must hate being high even worse.” Creeper explained as they watched her swallow the pain relief. 

Coco shook his head. “It’s a damn good thing that bastard died in the crash…” he lit a cigarette and puffed deeply.

Even Angel nodded soberly. “Ain’t that the truth.”

EZ appeared behind Hank and leaned in to whisper into his ear. “Her sling is too loose. There's a better kind at the drug store by Pop’s place. Want me to go get it? It’ll stop her from moving like that.”

Hank nodded and eased her further into his lap so she could rest. “Sure Prospect. Let me know how much.”

EZ nodded and went right back out to his bike. 

Megan snuggled close. “He didn’t even get to eat…” she objected quietly.

Taza sat in her abandoned chair and adjusted her sling slightly from the back. “He’ll eat when he gets back, Chica.” He looked to Bishop. “We should look into getting the prospect some medic training. He seems to have a knack for it.”

Angel spoke up from the other end of the table. “He was in school to be a doctor.”

Bishop looked thoughtful. “We’ll see. Kids gotta patch first.” He leaned back in his chair and lit a cigar while watching Hank rearrange Megan yet again so she was straddling his lap and she could rest against him completely as she recovered. He looked to Taza. “Poquito have everything she needs for a trip to Charming town?”

Taza thought for a second. “Letty’s shopping spree should have covered clothes. I’ve got a spare duffle and it’s not like we need to pack light with the car. She should be fine.”

Bishop chuckled lightly. “Not like Diana won’t take her shopping anyway if she needs anything. Tessa is excited as hell. She talked to me this morning too.” He puffed quietly for a second. “I’ll stay at Oakland’s club house. Marcus only has the one guest room.”

Taza nodded. “We’ll put Hank and Megan in there. I’ll crash on his couch so I’m still close enough for her.”

Creeper slid his chair close to where his president and Taza were talking quietly. “You sure you want me to hang back here, Bish? Hank’s going to be distracted as hell if Little Princess needs him. And you know she’ll probably have at least one panic attack while you’re gone. I don’t like being that far if y’all need me.”

Bishop nodded. “It should be a cake walk. Just an update and maybe a party. Not expecting trouble, ‘mano.”

Creeper sipped his water. “Princessa’s first Reaper Run…”

Taza grinned. “Wait until we get her healed up. Hank is itching to teach her to ride. I caught him browsing small bikes on his phone two days ago even though we said we’d do it.”

That got another chuckle from Bishop. “She’ll be real cute riding along on the easy runs. She’s going to need a job.”

Taza shook his head and laughed. “She’s going to end up basically a member, isn’t she?”

“Nah, brother,” Bishop grinned. “She’ll out rank members.”

Meanwhile, Hank chatted quietly with the younger Mayans as Megan rested against him with her head tucked under his chin. He tried not to grin and draw attention to it when she went limp. The pain medicine had kicked in allowing her to doze off. He tucked her legs closer to his body to give her better support and smiled. 

Coco was the first to notice Megan’s lack of involvement in the conversation. He craned his neck to check her face. “Dude - she’s out cold.”

Hank chuckled and nodded. “She hasn’t been sleeping much. Too much pain.”

“She still having nightmares every night?” Angel asked as he settled back in his chair.

He nodded. “Always her brother now though. Not the ex.”

Gilly snorted quietly into his coffee cup. “No shit. Hard to be scared of mince meat.”

Megan whimpered as she shifted and all the men paused to see if she’d wake. When she settled down again they all breathed a sigh of relief.

Taza caught the silence and turned to observe his brothers with his daughter. All of them had unintentionally softened their voices as she dozed. Even Angel was controlling his tone. He chuckled as Riz rose to retrieve the blanket that had suddenly taken up residence on the back of the club house couch. It was gently tucked around Megan to keep off the breeze. Early October was chillier than normal this year and no one wanted a stray draft to wake the sleeping girl.

Bishop joined in on the chuckle. “Should we start renting them out as nursemaids?” He puffed his cigar.

Creeper laughed. “Like anyone’s going to trust them with a kid. We’re lucky if they can brew coffee reliably half the time.”

All the men laughed quietly and chatted until the rumble of EZ’s bike startled Megan awake. She jumped and then whimpered quietly at the motion.

“Easy, mi princessa. Just the prospect coming back.” Hank pressed a kiss to her hair and soothed her with a hand down her spine.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to doze off.” She rubbed her face with her good hand and shifted as if to get up.

“Nah, girl. Stay put. The prospect can come to you,” Angel said stubbing out his cigarette. “And you look like you needed the sleep. You got circles dark enough under those big brown eyes to make someone think you’re a raccoon.”

Megan giggled a little and looked up at Hank. “Am I putting your legs to sleep?”

“Shit girl - you don’t weigh enough to put his legs to sleep!” Gilly said. 

Hank threw a balled up napkin at the two idiots. “Leave her alone, you two. And no, mi princessa, you’re fine.”

Gilly opened his mouth again and Coco smacked the back of his head. “Damn. No wonder I’m her favorite and she picked me to go along. Sheesh.” He grinned at Megan. “Shitheads’ always gotta comment, huh?”

That immediately started a play fight between the three younger men about who was Megan’s favortie as Riz egged it on.

EZ slipped inside with a box. “This should help you keep your arm still better, Princessa.” He smiled that charming Reyes smile and handed it to Hank. “It works like the regular sling by supporting the weight, but it also straps it to your chest for less movement. They used them all the time on baseball injuries.”

“Thanks, EZ.” Megan smiled up at him and stood so that Hank could help her switch out the slings.

[chaotic-tired-cat]

Heads up i have posted!!! a new fic!!! but AO3 seems to have eaten it, which is unfortunate. If the link ever works it's Day By Day We Stumble On - Chapter 1 - Sandtalon - 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga) [Archive of Our Own] Alas. It does not. I am dealing with the results of my own misplaced trust in technology by cross-posting the first chapter here so there will be a copy of it SOMEWHERE (deleted my copy after posting whoops.)

So, for whoever wants it, here is a tumblr-formatted copy of my terrible comedy jjk & naruto crossover where Shoko does exactly what you may expect given the title.

Summary: Every sorcerer has their own way to cope with the stress tremors quaking the jujutsu world. Satoru stomps his way through paper lines in shifting sand. Mei Mei-senpai draws new ones. Utahime cares for who she can, where she can, to keep from being buried. Nanami makes his peace. None of these methods are wrong, but they don't fit Shoko. She is tired, overworked, and so used to a life judged by the service she provides that she can't imagine functioning without it. Satoru's brother is familiar with the concept.

Friendship can look like two people sitting in a tub of misery, side by side. It works for them.

(Reincarnation AU but it's not about reincarnation or dimension travel. No, that's not on anyone's radar except for the guy it happened to. Shoko is in charge of this story, and she has decided this narrative will focus on the local coffee-addict finally catching a break.)

(This fic includes medical issues, chronic illness, and canon-typical child soldier nonsense, as well as topics like overwork, medical malpractice, smoking & alcohol use, and unhealthy work-life balance. It also includes mention of patricide, child abuse, and strangulation.)

Gojo Satoru has the eyes of a Furby and the soul of a slightly drunk hyena. 

This isn't a facet of her friend that Shoko needs to be paid to confront, necessarily, right up until it really, really is. Those cursed - and sometimes Cursed - occasions are reserved for the worst possible time, like Satoru's all-seeing luck peered directly through Shoko's life to hand-pick her unluckiest days. It's a talent. The worst talent in the world, and sometimes Shoko understands how Utahime wonders why they get along so well. Then again, that's coming from someone who barely considers herself to be reluctant acquaintances, let alone tentative friends with "the local nuisance."

Utahime would have opinions about a lot of Shoko's life decisions. Most of them would be correct, because it's Utahime. Unfortunately, she’s an unreliable source of wisdom due to losing about half her common sense to Satoru’s baiting on the regular. Shoko can understand it sometimes.

Such as now. Three in the ungodly morning is not a good time to test if Shoko's medical license is just for show.

It's just not.

Satoru knows this.

Just as he knows that the only thing that can get Shoko livid enough to act on her anger is functioning on less than two hours of sleep.

He could probably see that she was awake anyway and contemplating just how many shots of espresso puts her on the ungovernable side of a caffeine addiction, but she's refusing to acknowledge that. It's too early for comprehensive thought processing. Too late. Too far on one end of the sun's presence in the sky, but just tired enough to forget if the rise or setting is closer. Time has lost all meaning. Satoru can probably see her brain trying desperately to fire neurotransmitters to wake her up properly. On top of that, he knows she's frustrated at the higher-ups for pushing her working hours into barely manageable configurations when she complains. It shows in the way his voice stays under the headache threshold of volume. She is so damn tired.

Stop.

Drink the damn coffee.

Breathe.

She won't make his life more difficult than it already is. He didn't intend to test her patience and skill by spontaneously threatening the puppet masters of the jujutsu world, taking on a special grade in Hokkaido, and somehow returning with a mysterious brother. Lost sleep isn't personal. Shoko knows this.

Friends don't press each other into this lukewarm hell of overwork unless the situation is dire, which makes her current conundrum just that extra bit of a headache.

She crosses her arms at the cot.

Did-

Did Satoru spawn via mitosis?

She can never tell with him. This is a legitimate question.

Shoko has had the tentatively arguable displeasure of being his friend for years and is firmly of the belief that things like Conservation of Matter apply to Satoru only because they amuse him. It's her leading theory. Generations have passed since the last holder of the Six Eyes, and every moldy text on the abilities they hold is wrapped up in musty ancient language that relies on metaphors more than actual instruction. There is no recipe card for the Gojo clan's sacred technique. Just confusion and a hyperactive teenager who somehow grew weirder with time. He ages like cheese.

"You've cloned yourself," Shoko diagnoses even as her technique rules out that possibility.

Satoru preens. "The world couldn't handle two of me."

He's not wrong.

She listens to his chatter while she checks over the sibling he has managed to pull from thin air. Honestly. Of all the things to make a man who is harder to pin down than the raccoon in her apartment garage – that kind of person – ask for help… well. She wasn't expecting a brother. 

It's impossible to tell if the unconscious brother even looks like Satoru. Satoru covers only his eyes, while this guy covers everything but one of his eyes. A dark mask stretches down from the bridge of his nose, and there's a wide band of fabric pulled over the other eye. Apparently that one got gouged out for some reason Satoru cheerfully seethes over when she notices the old injury. The elder Gojo's got slightly darker grey hair than Satoru’s white, though. A bit more gravity-defying, and thank goodness for that. Identical twins would have snapped her last brain cell clean in half.

Shoko chooses to believe in mitosis. It's easier that way.

Satoru goes quiet when she asks for details as to why his spontaneously new brother is unconscious and needing a doctor. A quiet Satoru is about as good a sign as a harbinger of doom.

"I just need to know what took him out," she assures him. It's Satoru's business what secrets he wants to keep. “That’s it.”

"No." Satoru braces his elbows on his knees and bends over in the uncomfortable chair. He's smiling. Like a kitsune, yeah, but that anger is not her problem. "I'm tired of hiding, and Kakashi has never cared either way."

"Alright."

The story clarifies little.

Gojo Kakashi is three years Satori's elder. Kicked out of the Gojo line of succession due to a weak constitution and being physically incapable of wielding cursed energy, Kakashi should have died from his illness years ago. He did not. As far as Shoko can tell, spite created willpower and that, more than anything, fueled his survival-based cursed technique. It’s very odd. Lupine, lightning-based cursed energy sparks in a blaze of white energy that stitches his health back together like a calamity that is self-sustaining out of luck and little else. It gets tripped up around the eye he keeps covered as if expecting the Six Eyes to spontaneously manifest, but all that's done is fry his optic nerves from the inside out.

In short, Kakashi's body tried so hard to activate a technique it does not have that it blinded him in one eye. He was lucky not to lose both. It probably drained him half to death.

Ouch.

Satoru says in cheerful, acidic words that Kakashi’s worth has always been in his use to the Gojo clan elders. Both brothers have that in common. The crucial difference is that while Satoru got fucked-up eyes, Kakashi got fucked-up cursed energy due to the circle of a family tree the Gojo clan insists on to keep their technique from fading. It puts Satoru's sharp distaste of his own clan's politics in perspective.

Bluntly speaking, the elder brother is considered ‘better off dead’ by those old bastards. 

He's bought survival in unnatural talent for every single weapon put into his hands, but even that is shaky ground. He is chronically ill. Satoru’s pretty sure they’re bleeding his older brother dry, because apparently the second Kakashi was able to perform light exercise, marching orders rolled out. There was no regard for the fact that his health was tentative at best. Pricy medical assistance could not make up for self-destructive cursed energy, though patience was bought in the map of scar tissue and poorly-healed old injuries Shoko notices. It seems this has never mattered. Kakashi has apparently spent his entire life quietly training as a good little bodyguard for the Gojo elders to order around.

A little bit of treason in the form of one child soldier, as a treat to themselves.

It explains so much about Satoru. All the gift shopping and refusal to explain who made the dango he sometimes brought to school suddenly makes so much sense. His cute little bento boxes were always a touch too neat to be made by someone so impatient. Yes, Satoru is the kind of person to cut out nori in a ‘you can do it!’ message across bento onigiri for himself, but he wouldn’t be that protective of it. Wouldn’t have cared when Suguru filched one.

Satoru’s hidden temper boils as he tells a story from the impersonal plastic chairs Shoko uses to make unwanted visitors leave faster. His voice is syrup-happy.

Bitter.

He softens when he talks about his brother, though.

Plain as day.

Kakashi has spent the majority of his life wandering through his little section the Gojo compound, safe under a fairly high-powered barrier. It’s like a lethal hermit lifestyle. They apparently instituted it because Kakashi’s cursed energy and trouble attraction abilities had every medical professional saying, "welp. That's weird," before doing absolutely nothing. This led the Gojo clan to further seal away their eldest heir for twenty or so years, except for when they toss him like a pipe bomb at people they dislike.

You know.

As one does.

A weird assassination tactic, but it apparently works. Kakashi seems very talented at surviving despite the concentrated efforts of nearly everyone he's ever met. Shoko reads his vitals and thinks he's good at surviving despite himself as well. This man has not respected his mortal limits if he has that kind of muscle mass while suffering an untreated illness. 

…He probably didn't have much choice.

Shoko gets why Satoru has been hiding his brother. The inner workings of his clan must be a nightmare.

Ooh, those politics.

So much backstabbing and old-people gossip exists there. The toxic vibes must boost their cursed energy and explain why the six eyes manifested at all. Disgusting. Never shall she ask for details. It makes a bit of Satoru's squirreliness understandable. Just the littlest bit.

She doesn't know if it justifies keeping a secret this big. They may be antagonistic, and Satoru may be stuck in a shitty situation, but there's no way he'd hide an entire brother without someone manipulating the game. Shoko has been the one member of their weird little trio to see her friend in nearly all the best and worst moments of his life. He’s done the same for her. Even when she crashed into his weird little abode with rattling bottles and insults for every single professor to gift her the workload of a pre-med disaster, Satoru had decency to commiserate together. They’ve always been more alike than anyone wanted to acknowledge. It makes the secrecy a little less surprising, but still. 

Satoru, a younger brother. 

What?

Who initiated the process of pulling his strings to keep that hidden?

It gets pretty clear as Satoru explains.

Damn.

His father sucks.

Kakashi apparently wasn't meant to survive to adulthood, to ensure Satoru could become the next Gojo head without any opposing factions. It would be logical in a horrible sort of way, if Satoru didn't have the skillset of a mildly over-caffeinated god. There's also the helpful fact that Kakashi is willing and able to kill for his brother.

And he has, though Satoru leaves out what happened. Shoko hears it in the silence anyway. There was a time, when Satoru became clan successor, that Suguru quietly admitted to her that something was wrong. Facts didn't add up. The old Gojo head was decently strong, enough so to win against the curse that supposedly killed him. Satoru was at school when it happened, but… Shoko can guess what Kakashi did.

Patricide.

Lovely.

Kakashi is apparently just as unhinged as Satoru. It must be hereditary.

In response to that cute little murder, the Gojo elders apparently took away medical assistance to help get rid of their former heir faster. This was probably the beginning of the end.

Kakashi's hermit lifestyle lasted a few more years through ailing health out of sheer spite until Satoru had enough and outright threatened his clan elders a week ago. Shoko decides not to ask what caused the escalation, because Kakashi's lungs are ruined from an infection created by his own cursed energy. She already has her answers. It's a marvel he's still alive.

The elders did what they thought was sensible and sent a few special grade curses after Satoru as a slap on the wrist. It had the opposite effect. He met fire with the fire that stunt deserved, and dropped one of the special grades directly into their meeting room.

Right onto the table.

As a gift.

The 'old farts' disliked their brand new centerpiece. They disliked it enough to make sure Satoru was very aware of their big feelings and continued to dislike it while they delt with it. Loudly. Violently. There was allegedly lots of shouting. Satoru gets a little hazy with the details, but apparently his elders came to a quicker decision than he thinks they’d ever managed before in their lives.

They proceeded to take inspiration from Satoru's spite and decided to bait a new curse into Kakashi's cute little hermit abode.

Just for fun.

Kakashi, who is lethal in all ways except for the fact that he cannot handle cursed energy, responded by exorcizing the curse with his bare hands and promptly passing out. He charged reverse-cursed energy into his palms and apparently gave it a mild static shock while he strangled it in his kitchen. Satoru came home from a day out to find his brother dying and a curse already dead, after elders warned him at the gates that he’d find things the other way around.

Shoko wants to dissect that curse so badly. Curiosity itches under her skin.

That leads them to now, after Satoru has followed through on his threat. His clan is short a few elders and one house-arrest heir as of this evening.

Cool.

Shoko's compliant in a revolution now. She is perfectly fine with that.

"Kakashi's cursed energy and reverse-curse are generated at the same time," Satoru says, like he didn't just terraform a feared jujutsu clan's politics in a week. "Normally that should cancel out most of it, but his just kind of doesn't. Like ice cream, you know?"

Shoko does not know. "Ice cream."

"Yeah, like how chocolate and vanilla ice cream swirl!"

"I see," Shoko says, and takes a second to admire the fact that she's not even lying.

Satoru shrugs and hums a nonsensical tune like he isn't willing to burn down the world for those he cares about.

He never really changes in that way.

Shoko runs through the usual procedure and documents it all in the looping scrawl of medical professionals. Satoru is right – cursed energy and reverse-curse energy should cancel itself out slightly. It's why Shoko's technique is so rare: she's able to separate them before that process starts.

Kakashi's does not cancel out or separate.

It combines. The whole process and resulting mixture is, in Shoko's professional opinion, weird as fuck. Curses can probably sense it from across the prefecture. That's outrageous. It’s honestly no wonder he got put under house arrest instead of being exiled when Satoru pissed off the elders. The fallout from Kakashi wandering around outside a barrier would be immense. The Gojo compound would survive his stepping outside their wards, but their family’s reputation would not. 

He could probably annihilate a city just by walking through it.

"Well?" Satoru leans over so his chin is propped on her shoulder. 

"Congratulations," Shoko says flatly as she taps her clipboard with the pen. "He'll live. I might even be able to make him less of a curse-bait, but he'll need to be awake for that."

She's so tired.

Satoru flutters around her like a gangly, unhinged butterfly who refuses to take his hands out of his pockets. "You can fix it?"

Fix it.

Ha.

Shoko’s pen drums a faster rhythm on the paperwork. She can't even comprehend much beyond that this Cursed Energy nonsense is not killing Kakashi any faster than the blood loss. Satoru takes her clipboard and she barely notices.

"He'll survive the night," Shoko says as she finishes the basic first aid to keep her patient stable. "We'll worry about the rest in the morning."

"Not now?"

Shoko holds up a hand and notes the exact moment Satoru realizes how badly she's shaking. "Tomorrow. Doing anything right now lowers chances of success, and I'm not risking your brother."

He's lost enough.

"There's a line of emergency numbers on the desk," she starts. Satoru lets Shoko run through all the things to do if his brother wakes up, what not to touch in the office, who to call if she is too deep in REM sleep to hear her phone ringing-

She is so tired.

Shoko blinks and finds herself in her apartment, already half-forgetting how she got there. It's possible Satoru dropped her off. That was nice of him.

What a fucking day, she thinks as she flops onto her couch.

The next morning, she barely makes it onto Jujutsu High’s main campus before things get complicated. It happens before she can even get inside - an unexpected and unwanted visitor finds her in the foggy predawn chill between parking lot and building. Shoko stands with her coffee, bag, and exhaustion as a wizened old man tries to manipulate her. It is not an auspicious start to the day.

“I trust you know he is of better use resting than healed,” says the council elder with grey hair and Cursed Energy that eats at the morning silence like acid. Unspoken is a threat: you are of use to us. Do not change this.

Shoko looks down at her coffee, then back at the elder.

She raises an eyebrow.

“Are you telling me to ignore my oath?” Not that she cares about it, but still. If she gives ground now, they’ll never stop asking for more.

“I am telling you to listen to your funding.” A grim smile twists up. “It wouldn’t do to lose that.”

Well. Yeah, she can’t lose the only way she's able to keep sorcerers with the self-preservation instincts of lemmings alive. Shoko’s overworked and understaffed. She’s doing the job of four people all alone. School nurse, mortician, autopsy specialist, and on-call Cursed Energy healer. That’s not even counting her research on far too many projects.

“I am very tired,” Shoko says flatly. “So you’re going to have to spell this out for me. Please use small words.”

“Gojo Satoru needs to be controlled,” the old man says, which shows astronomically bad social awareness on his part. That’s her former classmate they’re talking about blackmailing. Her friend. If Satoru finds out about this he’s going to bait the bastards into a homicidal rage, which is not fun, thrifty, or enjoyable in any way. Then Utahime will have to spend a day watching Shoko lie on the floor contemplating her place in the universe. Nobody will have a halfway decent time, except Meimei-senpai, who may actually enjoy it so long as she gets paid time off while the jujutsu world burns and Satoru dances in the ashes. 

This is a terrible marketing pitch. Shoko stares at her coffee and scrambles for any reaction that is not going to make her life harder. She finds nothing in her brain but the most basic rule of surviving a toxic workplace.

“Can you give that to me in writing?” Shoko asks. “In the meantime, I have patients to see. So. Thank you for stopping by.”

She all but forces them to run through the social dance of goodbyes, and walks past him into the building. She has until that email arrives to make her last free move. Better start now.

Shoko climbs the school stairs and texts her med school group chat about the unfairness of the world. One of her friends who went on to be a paramedic immediately sends emoji hearts and commiserating tears in equal measure. It helps.

Those emoji hearts continue helping her all through the paperwork. Help looks like Satoru's hand on her elbow that stops her just shy of walking into a wall. It looks like a filled mug passed into willing hands.

Like unexpected patience.

Shoko wouldn't ask for that last one, so she prioritizes accordingly and shuffles her newest patient to the top of the list. Financial threats and demands of old farts would have her swamped for the week, so Shoko pretends she simply forgot to check her email that morning and gets to work. Her friend has waited long enough.

Besides, Satoru is not a worried person. He stews and giggles like a child attempting to scream defiance. Satoru usually burns the attempts of a world powerless to set him into a nondescript beige box like the rest of them. It is vicious. Spiteful. Petty. Worry on Satoru is a near-imperceptible thing that turns poison into a halberd swung wildly through tightening tripwires. He is uncontrollable, except-

Except.

"You should tell people you care for them," Shoko says lowly as she tugs on blue gloves. Satoru smiles wide and guileless. It is a devastatingly untrustworthy look on him.

"Aw, are you concerned about little old me, Shoko-chan?"

Yes.

Somebody's got to be, but he'll be insufferable if she says that.

Shoko settles for tossing him an unimpressed look, and knows her point is received when his smile grows the tiniest bit more honest. Worry is still settled in the teeth of it. It's almost funny, how there's once again two people Shoko knows of who Satoru can worry like that for. She thought he lost that ability along with Suguru. Turns out, he just learned to hide the lengths to which he can be pushed. It's not her business what alerted Satoru to that danger.

Threats come in many shapes and sizes.

As if to prove that point, Gojo Kakashi's first instinct upon awakening is to try stabbing her with a knife he should not have. 

Luckily, Satoru's first instinct upon seeing his brother wake up is to tackle-hug him right off the hospital bed, so the knife goes wide and Shoko remains uninjured to ignore them and return to her paperwork. Those idiots can figure out they're mortal and breakable without her spelling it out for them. Their terrible choices seem to cancel each other out. It makes a humorous kind of sense.

"You brought me to your school," Kakashi notes once he and Satoru have reached a limpet-shaped stalemate on Shoko's thoroughly sanitized tile floors. He pats his brother on the shoulder and executes a bendy maneuver to extract himself from the hug. It is strangely effective. Unfortunately, now Shoko refuses to believe this weirdo possesses bones.

"Aw, are you intimidated?" Satoru reaches out to pinch his older brother's cheeks and nearly gets stabbed. “All these kiddos to corrupt, and so little time! Don’t worry, nii-san. I believe in you.”

"This is an entire school-"

"Such marvelous powers of observation-"

"-Full of very mortal people-"

"-You can tell we're related, it's all in the eyes-

"-And I'm a curse-magnet," Kakashi stresses, inching suspiciously closer to the window. "This is a terrible idea."

"It kind of is," Shoko agrees, pressing her cheek further into her desk and wishing for a vacation. All she gets is paper stuck to her face.

Kakashi shoots her a thankful look. He is now her favorite of the two.

"Maybe. But then I thought, hey, showing up with a clone would be just the thing to throw those old farts into hysterics." Satoru beams. "Do you think the shock will finally take them out?"

"It won't," Shoko tells them before Satoru can make fools of them all or get his hopes up.

“Aww, where’s your ganbaru spirit? Your gaman-suru? You know, the I can do it!” Satoru says with a little hand gesture that practically sounds like a background chorus of children saying ‘yay!’ in some kind of weekend educational television program. The whole thing shows both terrible grammar and energy that’s not remotely as cutesy as he’s trying to make it.

“Killed it,” Shoko says automatically, just as Kakashi says, “Lost it on the road of life.”

“Besides,” Kakashi adds, “I thought the goal was not to make them stab me. That’s going to take some work, because I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I am prime knife real estate.”

“It’s the scarecrow energy,” Satoru says. “Come on, nii-san. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Kakashi goes quiet, and as one, their attention turns to the edge of a lurid orange book, half-hidden in the pile of fabric abandoned on a nearby chair. Shoko hadn't bothered looking at the visibly bulletproof armor Satoru brought his brother in with. It wasn't her business.

Satoru and Kakashi meet eyes - as much as they can with only one of four eyes visible - and Shoko can physically see the clown-to-clown communication transpire in real time. 

Oh, no. 

There's two of them.

"You're technically an assassin," Satoru notes. Shoko really hates that she's not surprised this is where the conversation is going already.

The lone eye crinkles up as if Kakashi is smiling.

"How many dishes would I have to clean for-"

"Out," Shoko interrupts. When Satoru opens his mouth to confirm something she doesn't want to know about, she adds, "plausible deniability is all I'm asking for. I don't care what's going on so long as it happens outside. Go on."

Kakashi has the utter gall to coyly wave at her while Satoru lifts him up in a princess carry. He is no longer her favorite. She is exhausted by them both equally.

Shoko presses her forehead to the desk and takes a steadying breath.

She wants to sink into the earth. Who invented bones? That was a terrible idea. Actually, who decided they should grow legs and leave the ocean at all? Look at where that’s gotten all of humanity. They have paperwork.

Wait.

The door nearly splinters when she slams it open to point an accusing finger at the brothers. They're only halfway down the hallway. Small mercies.

"Don't walk, don't run, don't do anything more strenuous than eat and breathe, got it?!"

Satoru beams, and Kakashi projects lazy indifference through the mask.

Whatever, they heard her.

Good enough.

It takes three hours for the gossip to reach Shoko that Gojo Kakashi has been instituted as a sorcerer. The movers and shakers of the jujutsu world have found the second Gojo to be steeped in similar potential as his brother. An exhibition match is being planned.

Four hours to know who came up with that bright idea.

Six hours to know they want to test his combat abilities.

Shoko stares through the ink staining her papers and realizes she needs to make a choice.

Shoko's heels click down the hallway's wooden floors like a war anthem. She likes the sound - it's a bit of a reminder to herself that she's allowed to make noise, that her words have worth. After growing up alongside two legends, she carries that with her.

They all used to command attention in different ways.

Satoru and his personality, a noxiously potent force he's crafted as if desperate to be defined by more than the weight of unbeatable power.

Suguru had a kind of danger about him like a riptide current. Hidden and waiting. It dragged him under eventually.

Shoko pushes her limits until they snap, and is very aware this makes her peers view her as terrifyingly impossible to rattle. It's her own brand of danger. A time limit.

Kakashi blinks at her from behind his nearly-neon book, unperturbed despite having been relegated to waiting outside the meeting room like a scolded child. Shoko pauses just long enough to warn him not to stand up from that chair before entering.

"He's not cleared for combat," Shoko announces as she pulls open the door. Yoshinobu-sensei glares up at her from his seat, one eye visible behind drooping white eyebrows. A gnarled hand pauses from stroking his beard, and Shoko knows to the depths of her soul that he's judging her choice of caffeine.

"Shoko-san," Yoshinobu-sensei greets. 

Fuck you, old man.

There's a doctorate that goes with that name and owes her at least the sensei suffix. Yeah, she cheated her way through, but it still fucking counts, doesn’t it? If he has a problem, he can give her another raise that will allow actual retirement to maybe happen soon in her lifetime. Then they’ll all be rid of her. Everybody wins.

She offers the slightest of acceptable bows and pulls the door closed.

Satoru tips his head back on his seat to grin at her, upside down and unrepentant. "Oh?"

"Gojo Kakashi can barely stand, let alone fight." Shoko chews over her words before gritting out, "I'm barring him from using cursed techniques and anything more than bedrest. Estimated two weeks 'till walking or light stretching. If he's gotta go up stairs within the month, there damn well better be a railing."

It's something she does less than she should. Usually she just doesn't give a shit, so Shoko can count on being taken seriously.

Satoru whistles lowly, because he must aggravate every situation he is forced into.

The look Yoshinobu-sense gives her makes it clear that Shoko's next words should be offering to speed up the healing timetable, like that's something she can do easily. "He will be required to undergo a performance review to assess his skill level."

“If you’re putting a sorcerer out there,” Shoko says with all the energy of a commuting salaryman who just got rainwater in his crocs, “then I am healing them. That is my oath.”

Yoshinobu-sensei hunches over his cane. "Unfortunate."

For him?

Maybe.

Shoko, however, could not care less. She has paperwork to fill out and an autopsy to do, unless it's Tuesday. Is it Tuesday? She's planning on spilling hot asphalt over her keyboard as an excuse for missing a conference call then.

Shoko drains the last of her cup and tosses it in the trash. "I can't stay long, but that's my say."

"We will take it under advisement."

Sure.

Shoko turns around and leaves. She needs a smoke.

"You heard the doctor," Satoru says with vicious glee as she slides the door closed. "Hey, hey, did you know that-"

Wood clacks shut; sound oddly muted beyond.

Shoko takes a moment to mourn her lack of beverage, then glances to her right at the eldest troublemaker. The reluctance in his shoulders hints that she is rather lucky to find him where he was left. Kakashi meets her apathetic look with steady resignment and raises his book in a silent toast to mutual suffering. It's the first of many similar moments.

In the end, common sense prevails. Kakashi is not required to partake in an exhibition match, which is fun, fantastic, and fortunate. Shoko loves being listened to. Respect is hard to come by. The politics that accompany both Gojo brothers are horrible and best not thought of, so she switches tasks every time her mind wanders too far and tries to keep this problem in the pocket of her lab coat amongst ink stains and soft lint. It’s the wisest choice.

Shoko submerges herself in work. Days pass, crawling by with email after email until Utahime appears to drag her out of the school.

"They're terrible," Utahime says when they find a precious moment of silence at a bus stop. Aching hands curl over coffee, as if Shoko can leach the warmth into her bones. Decaf, for once.

"Pretty sure mine are worse," Shoko grumbles. "There’s a little international shop just outside the school grounds, and for some hellish reason every last student adores their food violations. They put green food coloring in the guacamole. It’s an insult to the meal."

Utahime frowns. "What?"

"Food coloring."

"Why?"

"To hide that it expired."

Shoko's eyes close.

There's an empty sort of quiet in her head, like the seaside ponds undisturbed by crashing waves a little step away. Her jaw is amber, eyes opal, and there is a crystallized stillness that drifts like swamp water through her chest. It will break under this stress. Cracks and impurities lace structural weakness through her cartilage in the form of weight on her shoulders. Exhaustion is familiar. Waking up after a full night's sleep is not.

Caffeine withdrawal, or she just isn't used to having free time not spent desperately clawing back lost hours of sleep.

Or both.

Both is good.

"Alright," Utahime says. "You've got me there."

Shoko smiles into her cup.

Exhaustion is easy, but life is still so, so good. Days like these are nectar and ambrosia, water in the desert or pulled from the tap in her kitchen sink past 3am and all the sweeter for that late hour.

They go back to Utahime's flat, and Shoko manages to claim cooking duty. She starts the rice cooker and starts rustling through the fridge, only to learn that Utahime has placed her firmly in checkmate.

"Bath's ready," is all the warning Shoko has before Utahime all but marches her down the hallway.

Sweatpants and a shirt Utahime has never worn in her life despite buying them new are dumped into her hands. The lights are all shut off but for a soft nightlight Utahime swears isn't because Shoko lives most of her life with a headache. The large rubber duckie in the corner glows like a nightlight with dim ambient color that’s just soft enough to be comfortable. On her way out, Utahime blows a kiss at Shoko like she’d throw a fastball.

The bathroom door is shut.

Mochi promptly raises a racket.

The door is opened, cat let in, and shut again.

Shoko watches Mochi curl up next to the tub and wonders what kind of hubris that must be. Someday that cat is going to slip into bathwater and emerge a tan-white ball of soaking wrath. There will be claws. Complaints. Maybe even some yelling from multiple species, if it's a particularly fancy occasion.

Everyone gets humbled eventually.

The bath is nice. Tension drains as steam rises. Just for a moment, the strain she carries with her eases, though the weight dragging her down stays. Water to marinate in up past her shoulders can only fix so much. Pain is always a dull ache and constant drag, but her burdens seem to float in the bath, at least.

Pressure becomes manageable.

She used to think everyone felt like this: like there were chains reaching from the center of the earth to wrap around her shoulders, her head, her hips. They anchor in her cheekbones and pull her down with exhaustion. Not everyone struggles so much to stand, to walk, to work. Schedules and medication heal only so much. The rest needs careful attention. Care. Effort and discipline.

Shoko closes aching eyes and wishes she were born a fish.

Fish don't have curses.

Actually, that's not true. Some fish are curses, which kind of sucks for them. Shoko pulled the guts out of one a couple months ago and learned quite a bit about how cursed energy can interact with aquatic species. That one used it to replace oxygen. The whole thing is bizarre. Theoretically she could launch one into space and it’d survive just fine beyond issues like a lack of atmospheric pressure.

…Shoko still wishes she were born a fish.

Tomorrow she will go back to work. She isn't even being called in to do her actual job - no, tomorrow is all for office politics.

What a fucking farce.

Ceramic presses into her cheek as Shoko props her face up beside the cat. One brilliant green eye opens, pupil contracting and expanding as it adjusts to warm yellow lamplight. The cat's nose twitches.

"You don't even have a salary," Shoko whispers. Her voice catches and scrapes like thick paint under a palette knife.

One white paw reaches out, toe pads pressing against Shoko's nose. Mochi rolls, one triangle ear nearly brushing the water. Another paw lands on Shoko's chin. Back feet stick straight up, claws extended and toes wiggling with the stretch.

Yeah.

Mochi's too cute to work.

Would that they all be so lucky.

Shoko exits the bathroom in worn sleepwear to the smell of cooking garlic and onion.

After evening has fallen, she flops onto the empty futon by Utahime's occupied one. It's warm, proof Utahime plugged in her hair dryer and swept it under the blankets like a cheap heating pad. The mellow lamp between their beds stays on for a few minutes of precious silence. Mochi arrives to purr and make biscuits on Utahime's blankets.

These are the good moments.

Almost nothing hurts.

Utahime reaches out of her pile of blankets, hand offered across the floor. Shoko stretches out her own arm, braving cold in the apartment air from where her shirt sleeve ends with its promise of warmth. Their fingers lace together like the stitches holding Shoko's heart in one piece.

"Good night, ‘Hime."

Utahime's free hand blindly slaps at the light until it turns off. She has to twist at an awkward angle to do it, all elbows and the soft clumsiness that only appears with this apartment's safety.

"'Night."

The new sorcerer settles in well enough.

He's a terrible patient and a headache to deal with, but Kakashi seems aware she's regularly pulling overtime to get him functional. He never goes too far out of his way to antagonize her, and Shoko repays it by watching her cruel streak. With a little communication they strike a comfortable balance. From the rumors, she is one of the very few people he's not actively trying to tempt into homicide.

That's a misconception she's never quite understood.

Suffering does not breed wisdom. It does not cultivate patience or serenity. Gojo Kakashi is chronically ill and raging against the world. He sulks and thrashes recklessly against his limits, baiting every sorcerer he meets into a fight with poisonous cheer that mirrors his little brother's habit of smiling though anger. Shoko understands from the depths of her soul. She, too, knows what it is to be defined by too-confining limits, to wake up in the night because everything hurts too much to sleep. People like them are screaming inside, but have only headache and heartache to show for the effort. The only difference is that Kakashi turns to trolling and bad literature while Shoko marinates in apathetic smoke-drunk sorrows.

They are mutually poor role models for this kind of thing.

Kakashi sends off several Valentine's Day glitter bombs. Shoko lets him put down her flat as the return address, if only so she can witness the fallout. It goes as expected. Sheer lethality seems to be keeping the remaining Gojo elders from sniping Kakashi at long range.

Utahime watches it all from Kyoto warily. She and the new guy get along disconcertingly well for all that they logically shouldn’t.

Shoko puts it out of her mind and turns to more important matters. The students are sparring with no regard for their health, and the new first year incoming batch has only two potential recruits. Keeping them alive to adulthood is a fool's errand. Still worth a try, though.

At least it seems all the students are enjoying their summer break.

Something Shoko has never really talked about to anyone but her two closest friends in high school is that there’s an empathy component to her technique.

Cursed energy is created out of emotions. It’s a funny thing, how the nature of those components are mixed and compressed into a tangible form that can interact with the spiritual layer of the world. For an introspective technique like hers, Shoko is very aware of what negative and positive emotions are bleeding into that energy. It’s an awareness that can’t be turned off.

And the survival instinct that’s keeping Kakashi together only shuts off when he gets gleeful enough about annoying the higher-ups. It even halts the grief that follows him like a cloud of mold spores, though that’s not surprising for someone who lost the first twenty or so years of their life to an illness that may never be completely cured.

She really could not care less about who he’s tempting into murder, so long as the fallout does not reach her.

So Shoko shoos Kakashi away and stitches him back together through a series of appointments.

They might be something like friends.

Maybe.

He’s less malevolent than Satoru, more willing to let her pass out on the sofa of his ramshackle house in the woods, when leaving campus would go against her contract but staying awake would lead to injury. In return, she drops the formality and occasionally heals him outside the clinic. The big nerd hates the smell of cleaning chemicals. She bullies him into caring for himself, he adjusts his life to allow her a few seconds of sleep, and they keep each other alive. 

One night he shows up at her window, Utahime behind him and Nanami hauled over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and demands they roast a wild boar he somehow hunted and killed for fun. Utahime claimed there was no ethical problem with game animals the government is literally advertising to minimize farm damage, but Shoko is already both not sure enough to ask and too tired of the hereditary Gojo nonsense to question it. Nanami later informs them that boar-hunting alone is ill advised. How he sounds regretfully familiar with the process is a mystery Shoko is content to ignore until she forgets it. Besides, if Kakashi can take out an adult wild boar while alone, he can hunt however he wants.

So.

Friends.

He’s like a feral cat.

But when Kakashi wanders through the door to her infirmary with a book practically glued to his face and a little brother skipping at his heels, Shoko isn't expecting thanks. That's not something doctors get in the jujutsu world when they bar sorcerers from fighting. Theirs is the duty of resupplying soldiers in this never-ending war against curses, and any spare time can be spent in more productive ways than loitering around and recovering.

They get complaints from impatient brats. Pleas for help with fallen teammates and friends. Resentment for failure to fix the world. Demands from their superiors.

Not thanks.

"You didn't have to buy us time back then," Kakashi says vaguely, and it's honest and cheeky like the lethal menace Shoko just knows he'll end up becoming once fully healed. "Thanks."

Sounds fake, but okay. Sure. "Is this because I'm about to operate on you?"

Satoru faux-gasps at her cruelty, but Kakashi just crinkles his visible eye. 

"Maa, didn't you know? It's good to be on decent terms with your doctor."

Shoko rolls her eyes and checks her own reserves of reverse-cursed energy as she drones, "shut up and lie down. Satoru, you can sit in the chair if Kakashi is fine with that, but one step closer and I'll ruin your life."

Satoru parks himself on the chair, elbows on his knees and grin a bit too wide. "That was almost a decent threat."

"I have blackmail and your brother's phone number."

Satoru makes a sound like she just hit him with a rubber chicken, and Kakashi wheezes a laugh until Shoko shoves a clipboard in his face to fill out.

She's nearly finished coaxing his cursed energy into something a little less noxious, and by all accounts he's capable of entering the field physically. He's got enough of a clean bill of health. At the very least, she's not going to limit his exercise anymore.

The problem is that he's still functionally curse-bait. Stepping outside the barrier will make his presence light up like a beacon.

Last night she scraped together just enough sleep for steady hands. It’s not enough to deal with everything, but… enough to let him go without fighting for his life every second he's outside a barrier. She can grant him subtlety. Mostly. Particularly sensitive curses will still notice that something's wrong, though.

It takes three hours of ridiculously delicate focus on Kakashi's cursed and reverse-cursed energy.

Three hours of mind-numbing details, miniscule adjustments, and use of old techniques that are all but crumbled to dust.

But she does it, tells Satoru to keep an eye on his brother while she passes out for five minutes, and tosses her gloves in the trash. He'll notice if anything is wrong. That's pretty much what his technique was made for, after all. Whether he has to climb onto the cot and wrap his spindly brother in a hug is another matter entirely.

Kakashi endures the obnoxious mother-henning with a resigned grace Shoko is very familiar with. Satoru tends to inspire that reaction in his close friends.

It's fine.

It's done.

She can sleep for a few damn minutes.

Shoko's eyes slip closed the second she collapses at her desk. She wonders, as she notes the heavy pull of drowsiness, how this will come back to bite her.

Technically she shouldn't nod off at work.

Technically.

Satoru has the basic decency to keep his voice at a manageable level as she dozes. It's not behavior anyone expects from a man who does his best to embody a lethal court jester to the utmost degree, but people forget that Satoru knows weakness. He knows how easy bones crack and shatter; how fragile lives are when contrasted with Infinity. Untouchability throws the world into stark comparison. He can probably see the buildup of stress in her mind, the blood flow and developing bags under her eyes, and the red tracing over her sclera as capillaries burst from lack of sleep.

So, no.

Satoru's not going to piss off a doctor. Much less his friend, who he saw go from a grungy kid with an attitude problem to the chain-smoking wine aunt she is now.

It is, Shoko thinks as she accidentally drops into a deeper sleep, his most redeeming quality.

She wakes up eighteen hours later with a killer headache on Satoru’s ridiculously expensive couch. Some merciful deity has encouraged Satoru to keep the lights off and leave a paper napkin on the table next to her in their usual signal. Shoko remembers high school. She remembers collapsing in the back of black cars, both her boys beside her after a mission accomplished. They’d all nod off in the wake of an adrenaline high. She can picture it now - Suguru sitting up straight like some kind of monster, Shoko leaning on his left shoulder, and Satoru drooling on his right.

Good times.

Then one died, one lost his anchor, and one lost her way.

Now she's waking up and her mouth feels like something died in it, her eyes are crusted over, and the blanket tossed over her has slipped away to leave her cold as a frozen hell. At least the lights are off.

Small mercies.

Shoko grabs the napkin and finds her way to the fridge, cracking it open to pour holy light across kitchen tiles and countertops. Squinting past illuminated sweets, Shoko fishes out the takeout.

Yakisoba.

Nice.

Dim streetlights pour illumination in from open windows, helping Shoko stumble towards Satoru’s bedroom door. Luck and little else keep her from tripping on the carpet before finding it nearly closed. He even put a nameplate on it. Cute. She does him the favor of opening it past the carpet to preserve the expensive repairs from this exact scenario, which repeats at least biannually. Habit makes her check there’s no weird knives tucked on top of the door frame before stepping back and kicking the door open with little ceremony. Noodles are shoved into her mouth as she peers in.

Satoru’s not there. Kakashi is passed out like a starfish, but Shoko could care less about that one. She’s looking for her honorary brother. The sweet-tooth dumbass.

Oh, that fucking idiot.

She retreats to the room she was in and yep, there he is, passed out while sitting in the window like the world’s most dandelion-shaped target. Some people make the worst decisions. Worse still, they have the skills to half-way justify it, which only makes the dumbass ideas hit slightly different. This feels like a rosemary-flavored mistake. Satoru has herbs growing in a line of pots by his bedroom, though it's only recently that she discovered he isn't at fault for the little garden at all.

She thinks the rosemary is named Bisuke.

Or Pakkun.

Whatever.

Someday Satoru is going to get sniped.

Shoko considers kicking her former teammate for old time’s sake.

Upsides: he’s near indestructible and wouldn’t be hurt by the fall. He also wouldn't be offended - if anything, it'd be nostalgic given what he and Suguru used to pull when they devolved into wrestling.

Downsides: he’d be loud about it.

She kicks him.

Gently.

Really, it's his own surprise and need for drama that tips him out the window. They both know this, but his squirrel brain loves it for some reason.

Once Satoru has been defenestrated, re-fenestrated, and subsequently complained about the entire process, Shoko is feeling a little better.

She spends the next day at Satoru's apartment, sheltering from her responsibilities like she's sixteen years old again. Sixteen and bright. Sixteen and proud. Sixteen and able to shirk these duties without counting the lives her days off cost on tackily painted nails.

But everyone needs a break.

Overwork is a medical condition.

Shoko lies on the scraggly rug in Satoru's apartment, head on a pillow from the couch and blanket on her lap. She watches the wind blow thin curtains into the room like tidal waves. It is the way of things; this push and pull. Sunlight paints the fabric brilliant white, like it's washed the cotton with water, time, and thyme.

Ceramic clinks.

"A medic's first duty is to heal and keep healing until the job is done," Kakashi says as he sets a cup of tea on the floor somewhere by her elbow. "A medic's second duty is to let their comrades hold the fighting far away from them."

Shoko sighs from the depths of her soul.

"A medic's third duty," he says, "is to die last."

"Which old journal did you pull that from?"

Kakashi smiles behind the mask.

It's such a non-answer.

Shoko looks at him with a doctor's mind and notes how the shadow under his visible eye is already lesser. The other is hidden under fabric, because despite whatever injury cost him it, Kakashi scorns real eye patches. He's so weird. Shoko loves that for him. She also fully supports the healthy color he's already regaining.

"Alright, then," she says, too exhausted and aching to really push this or any other matter. "Keep your secrets."

"Headache?"

"Fading." Shoko eyes him, noting the tension he always holds. It's lesser, yes, but not gone. "You?"

Kakashi tips his head to the side. "Better."

Alright.

Shoko debates hauling herself upright and decides against it. "So, how's Satoru treating your new read?"

Kakashi hacks out an oddly lupine laugh and plops down to sprawl just out of reach. They sit on the ground, forsaking the couch entirely, as he tells her exactly how scandalized his little brother is at his newest choice in smutty romance novels.

-

Satoru drags Megumi off on a field trip and comes back with a vessel of Sukuna. 

Shoko hears about it and mourns all the time she'll have to spend patching up a teenager with that kind of risk assessment skills. The kid looked at a shriveled-up finger that radiated pure evil, and said: wouldn't it be wild if someone ate that? Hey. Hey, is anyone gonna…? Let me just… just put this in my mouth like a toddler. 

Then he didn't wait for an answer.

Disgusting.

Who even does that?

Kakashi and Nanami have started a running bet on what kind of monsters Satoru's students will turn into. One of them's already apparently unhinged, and Megumi goes completely wild if he's pushed far enough in a fight. Shinigami users resemble their spirits over time due to the leaking energy of their techniques, and it shows. Kugisaki – the new student Shoko doesn’t know past paperwork – has pride to spare and brutality to match. She's got a technique the higher-ups can market as merciful. Elegant. It hides the blood. 

They're going to be world-shakers.

Do we get paid overtime for this, Nanami types into their group chat. Kakashi sends him a reply made only of assorted emoji hearts.

No💖, he adds like an afterthought.

Ugh.

Shoko would bet on Satoru snapping and killing the elders before Itadori Yuuji consumes all ten fingers, but Kakashi is right there. Waiting. Lurking in the rafters like an evil little patch of mold. Her workload is heavy enough without this all boiling over, because if there's no fatalities due to internal squabbling, Shoko will be honestly surprised. Stress bubbles under her skin.

She needs to do her taxes.

Shoko goes home, flops face-first onto her couch, and screams into the cushions.

An email notification pops up, one solitary light in the dark apartment. Shoko glares at her phone from the corner of her eye and wonders who will die if she calls in sick tomorrow.

She won't.

Some days, Shoko's mind and body calls it quits. She saves her sick days for when she physically can't get out the door. It's not worth wasting time off that will be needed unexpectedly later. Burnout is hard to fight when her cursed technique is holding up half the jujutsu world. Doctors don't sleep enough, but sorcerers push their medical teams to the edge daily. Shoko thinks it's part of the exorcist culture.

There are so many people who are irreplaceable and running on fumes all at once.

Mei Mei-senpai would make the list if she weren't expensive enough to make the elders wary. Self-employed and a prodigious sensory technique, combined with perfect awareness of her value. She answers to nobody but her bank account. It's not a fair comparison when the rest of them trudge along through political quagmire.

Rats in a maze.

Mei Mei-senpai made a place for herself. Suguru cracked under the pressure. Satoru kicks the whole maze around until it rearranges to his liking, damn the consequences and everyone else. Shoko wonders who will be next to shift this house of cards.

It's trembling.

Do the elders see?

She passes out on that couch, too tired to heat dinner in the microwave. It takes most of her energy to plug in her phone and snag a blanket from the floor.

Morning sun drifts through the windows.

Screeching music drills into her ears.

Five, Shoko tells herself. Four. Three, two, one- She pushes herself off the couch and smacks into the floor. A bruised hip and elbow chivvy her upright, then through her morning routine.

Email notifications follow her out the door.

She is halfway awake by the train station.

Three-quarters awake and covering a yawn by the time she reaches the school entrance.

A man in a business suit is waiting at her office door. Shoko scans him for injuries out of habit, notes the regulation white dress shirt, black jacket, black slacks, and wonders who she pissed off this time.

He introduces himself but Shoko's coffee burns her hands, and she misses his name. It feels rude to ask again, so she gets a business card. She finds she does not need it when he steps aside, and a wizened old man appears from behind him in the world’s shittiest magic trick.

An esteemed elder.

Not one she's ever spoken to, though.

He has questions about her two least favorite patients.

About what happened to the last Gojo head.

About how strong Kakashi is. Does she know he beat a special grade with his bare hands and no formal training? How did he do it? Did she detect anomalies while healing him?

Confidentiality is something they seem rather intent on ignoring, no matter how often she cites the law. Not like that could hold anyone back in the jujutsu world, but Shoko is still beholden to her oaths.

In all honesty she really doesn't pay them much notice, but they’re useful. Sometimes.

Like now.

"I am delighted to inform you that the Gojo brothers are none of my business," Shoko says flatly as she flicks on the overhead lights. "It's my new favorite motto. The world is weird, and I'm tired, so I've decided that unless given a good reason, I am minding my own business."

"He is nearly a curse-user," the elder notes, which is a captivatingly bold lie. Kakashi is unhinged as a half-rabid wolf, but he hides it right up until someone threatens his brother.

Besides, what’s the definition of curse-user? Someone who has a technique and uses it in a way that’s not perfectly what the old busybodies want? Big fuckin’ whoop. They can call her when she makes the list. Until then, Shoko is going to sit in her lab sharing a smoke with her wine and her misery.

"Oh?" Shoko says, as if distracted by finding gloves. They're in the same place as always, but she rustles through a cabinet to show proper disdain for the authorities. Ignoring him feels delightfully petty. "Is that all?"

"If he refuses to submit his techniques for testing again, we will take measures."

Satoru would have a field day with that.

She kind of wants them to take those cute little ‘measures’ just so everyone getting comfy with their unquestioned power remembers a bit of humility. There's no need for the jujutsu world to resemble a dictatorship quite so closely.

"I simply do not care about that." The curse she needs to inspect makes a heavy splat sound as she drops it on the dissection table.

The old man pointedly lifts a sleeve over his nose.

He is ignored.

If she cycles her technique internally, Shoko can cleanse her lungs of chemical fumes with every inhale. This ability is not replicable. Sooner rather than later, she will be left alone. Shoko pries cartilage loose from a femur and cracks it open to sniff at cursed bone marrow. 

Apparently he has no clue how to deal with her apathy, because he rambles on as if she didn't say anything. It's annoying. Shoko guts another curse and spills bleach across the floor until he gets the hint and leaves. Good riddance.

Windows are thrown open, fans turned on, the floor cleaned, and Shoko contentedly settles elbow-deep in her research.

She stays there until her lunch break, which Shoko uses to march into the forest towards a tiny little cottage-like residence Satoru recently pushed, prodded, and bullied his way into securing. The idea of giving a former curse-magnet access to a barrier space that can contain that issue should it resurface was just logical enough for the elders. They chose a little scrap of land in the forest, had the beefiest barriers they could think of built up, and seemed content to forget about it entirely. Whether the building appeared within these barriers before or after barrier creation is unclear. It has a coffee machine, a couch, and an owner that doesn't mind her crashing at his place for five blessed minutes.

Kakashi is good like that, even if he's a menace.

Luckily, her friend is sitting outside like usual these days. He's sharpening blades the old-fashioned way with a whetstone, though Shoko ignores this.

"Is anyone listening in?"

Kakashi turns towards her just enough to watch, likely caught off guard by the bluntness. They tend to poke at each other and complain about whatever inconvenience caught their fraying attention. It’s a habit built out of long hours dragging his health into something manageable. They know each other's boundaries; Shoko complains, Kakashi trolls, and they mutually go easy on each other. 

Kakashi leans back until he's leaning on one of the paper ofuda plastered around his little building. "No."

"When this all goes up in flames," Shoko says, "do me a favor? Kill your targets."

Kakashi's hands pause on the blade. "That's treason."

Treason.

What an archaic term for the mercy she's asking. 

"I am so tired," Shoko says quietly. "Please. Don't let them push my technique past its limits in the aftermath."

Stone and steel scrape together one last time before Kakashi chooses another blade.

"Some things never change," he says, so quietly Shoko wonders if she's supposed to hear. Then, louder, "alright."

Thank goodness and good riddance.

Shoko could refuse to heal whoever shows up for emergency treatment in the aftermath of that inevitable conflict. She could pick and choose. Doing so would break many rules, though.

Shoko isn't Kakashi or Satoru. Her worth and use fail if she refuses to offer them up for consumption. It is an exhausting way of life that leaves her feeling hollow and beaten, but she is still standing. Despite it all, Shoko is still here. That matters.

"Thanks," is all she says.

-

A/N: Regarding how/why Kakashi reincarnated: thats really up to you as a reader. I, personally, think the Sage was skipping stones across the tanabata star river and accidentally beaned a ninja in the head with one. A second chance at life is his apology gift. Kakashi remembers none of this. He is living off the goal to someday figure out how to summon his doggos, completely unaware that the ninja world he left is dealing with the fact that several dozen witnesses saw an elite assassin get struck down from the sky. Divine judgement to the extreme. They then saw an old due with horns and unmistakable resemblance to many folktales to show up, scratch his head at the whole aftermath, and go "whoops" before dipping. My basis for this theory is that I think it's funny

[begrudginglytumbling]

If I had turned this into a drinking game I’d be very, very drunk by now, and I’ve still got twenty episodes to go.

[jakekiszkaenthusiast]

Hate

pairing: jake kiszka x reader

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, hate sex basically, degradation, orgasm denial, dominant jake, oral sex (male receiving), dirty talk, drinking.

author’s note: OK LISTEN. this is very similar to something i just published, but i’ve had this in my drafts for a very long time (like, since october) and i wanted to post it anyways. i dont intend to make this into a second part, just because i’m already working on a second part for sweet girl and i think they’re just too similar! love you all <3

you pound your shot on the table before swallowing it down and actually managing to keep a straight face. knowing the way your friend was, this would not be your final shot of the night.

"you got-gotta catch up with me" josh slurs, eyes half-shut. it wasn't even 10:00 pm yet and he was almost blackout drunk, but hey it's his birthday party, he can do what he likes.

"i don't think there's enough alcohol in the state to catch up with you, birthday boy!" you laugh.

"hey, 'm not the only birth..birthday boy." he says slowly, as if the words wouldn't come out of his mouth. you roll your eyes once he finishes his sentence. you knew he wasn't the only birthday boy, but you didn't like to busy yourself with thoughts about him.

jake kiszka. cockiest man on the planet. you regularly got into screaming matches with him, becoming so frustrated you could rip your hair out. you truly, completely loathed him.

you loathed the way he would simply smile at you when you yelled loud enough, making it impossible for you to make a point without feeling ridiculed. you loathed the way he swaggered around as if he owned everything in sight. you loathed when he even breathed in your direction. to put it plainly- you hated the guy.

and he hated you back. every time he would look at you, there was a glint of disgust in his eyes- he barely regarded you as a person, nor did you him.

you could see him swigging from a bottle of jack daniels in the distance, clad in only a black kimono and jeans. he had a cigarette in the other hand, from which he took a drag and blew the smoke into the face of some poor girl sitting with him.

you scoff, and turn back towards josh. you wanted to have a good time, so you cast jake to the back of your mind and try to continue the fun.

a few hours later, you were buzzed but still unable to get properly drunk- you supposed it was because you were surrounded by josh's entire family for the first time ever: you had only met his brothers, so you were on edge about getting wasted in front of his parents.

you were looking around the crowded apartment for your bag, deciding you should leave soon if you wanted to get a cab home. you couldn't for the life of you find it anywhere. it was like it had vanished. you checked josh's bedroom, to no avail.

you didn't want to find it in jake's room, but the possibility of someone having just thrown it in there was too great to avoid opening the door.

as you peer nervously into the room, you notice a few things at once. one: it is a lot neater than you were expecting. two: the scent of the room smelled better than you were ever willing to admit. three: your bag was politely placed at the foot of the bed.

the room was dark, but lit well enough for you to see the walls decorated with various pieces of art. the bed was large, a dark plum fabric covering the duvet. it looked soft. to the right of the bed in the furthest corner of the room is a leather loveseat, in which you are startled to find a figure sitting.

you take a further step into the room, hoping he was asleep. his head flicks up and you cringe, knowing you were caught. you can see his face clearly enough to find the expression you were so used to- disgust.

"what do you want, y/n?" the way he says your name sends a shiver down your back.

"i need my bag." you point at the small black clutch on the bed. he pushes himself out of the chair, staggering slightly.

"oh, this is yours?" he asks, leaning over to pick it up. your nose scrunches at the sight of him touching your belonging, but you say nothing in attempts to avoid conflict.

he looks you in the eye as he slowly undoes the closure for the bag, before tipping its contents onto the wooden floor; your phone, spare makeup and keys fall with loud thumps, making you gasp. you hardly move because you feel a hot ball of rage deep within your chest.

all of your arguments had been purely verbal, so for him to do something like this, something so childish? another level of anger overtook you, unable to stop your body from taking steps towards him and connecting the palm of your hand with his cheek. the loud slap echos through the room, and the only ensuing sound is the bass from the music in the other room.

he holds a hand to his cheek, eyes hard and lips flattened into a line. neither of you dared move with the tension, locked in a staring contest you were sure to lose. jake was actually the first to look away, sighing and sitting himself back into the loveseat.

"pick up your shit and go." he demands, kicking the expensive powder press you had brought further away from him. he didn't bother to look at you. you roll your eyes and kneel down to collect your things.

your short skirt was having a hard time keeping you modest as you have to essentially crawl around the room for your things- each of your possessions had scattered far away from each other.

"why do you have to be such a dick, jake? god-why can't you just be a decent fucking human being?" you begin your rant, letting your voice raise as you get angrier with each crawl.

he sighs, looking towards the ceiling for a moment.

"you just have to do what you want with no regard for anyone else, it's honestly a surprise i didn't smack you soon-"

"would you just shut the fuck up for once in your pathetic life?" your eyes widen at this.

"what did you just sa-" you begin, only to be interrupted again.

"i said, shut. the. fuck. up." his voice is hard and his eyes finally meet yours on his last syllable.

you're still on your knees when he stands up. you become aware that he is only in his kimono and a pair of tight black boxers as you look at his whole body. the few steps it takes for him to reach you felt as though they took an hour, and you hardly dared to breath. he had never been this angry.

he was stood directly in front of you, looking down on you as though you were the scum beneath his shoe. his lips were twisted down, nose scrunched slightly: his eyes were latched onto yours, and you felt like you couldn't break the contact. the kimono flaps open slightly and you can see his lightly sculpted chest in your peripheral, hating how soft his skin looked.

he reaches down and takes a fistful of your hair, so tightly and at such an angle that you can no longer move your head in any direction. your eyes were still locked, your pulse raising with every minuscule movement he made.

he slowly pushed his hips forward, holding your face against his clothed crotch. you could feel his erection against your nose. he moved your head from side to side for the smallest amount of friction, which elicited a small sigh from his mouth. he pulled your head away and let go only slightly of your hair- now you could move more independently.

"would you like to suck my cock?" he asks.

you genuinely consider the question for a moment. this was the man you hated; you would literally rather crash a car than be alone with him in it. but you couldn't say that you hadn't thought about him more fondly in the dark of the night, when touching yourself wouldn't work any longer.

you lick your lips.

"yes." you say decisively.

"yes, what?" his fingers tighten in your hair again.

"yes, sir." you knew what he wanted to be called.

"clever girl."

with your verbal go ahead still hanging in the air, he pulls the waistband of his underwear down and lets them fall to the floor. his cock is larger than you had ever expected- still, not too big for you, with a thick vein running down the shaft. the head was splotchy and red with arousal, already dripping with a little precum. you took a breath in as you watched him pump himself a few times before letting go, and placing two fingers against your lips.

he pushed the fingers into your mouth, hooking onto your bottom teeth to push your jaw open. you instinctively stick your tongue out, ready and waiting to be used. very slowly, he slid himself across your tongue once, twice, three times, humming with pleasure.

"you look so pathetic with my cock against your tongue. dumb whore." he spits at your face, wiping the saliva into your mouth with his thumb.

your eyebrows scrunch with anger, a jerk reaction to the names he called you. you can't do anything about his fingers still hooked onto your teeth, keeping your jaw wide open, but you try to replace your tongue inside your mouth again.

"what did you just call me?" your words are muffled with the obstructions inside your mouth.

"i called you a dumb whore. now shut. up." he slaps his cock against your mouth with the final two syllables and your clit throbbed almost painfully- his words and actions were undeniably sexy, even if you still hated him.

he waited impatiently for you to stick your tongue back out, resting the head against your cheek, before pushing into your mouth entirely. you choked on his size, but after a second or two of adjustment, you pushed your head further forward to accept more of him down your throat.

he made a sound of surprise at your lack of a gag reflex now that you were acclimated to him. it had always been a point of pride for you with past lovers, and you felt your stomach jolt with excitement at the thought of what you could do to him now the barrier had been crossed.

rocking his hips back and forth, he began to fuck your throat, at first with almost no pressure until you forced your lips to the base of his cock and he let himself go. his pace was fast and rough, only stopping to let you breath, before shoving himself back into your mouth and beginning again. the fingers in your hair were painfully tight now, but the sensation was sending tingles through your whole body. this lasted for nearly five minutes, your throat becoming raw after almost two.

he suddenly removed himself from your throat, pulling you up by your hair to stand on your feet. he finally let go of your hair to allow his hands free roam of your body. you payed little attention to what he was doing, focusing on the pink flush against his cheeks. before you knew it, your skirt fell to the floor and your shirt was ripped over your head, revealing your lacy red thong and bare chest.

you had no time to be coy about your sudden nakedness when he picked you up and slammed you onto the bed, knocking the air out of your lungs. his knee forced its way between your thighs, allowing him to essentially kneel on you due to the angle. you gasped at the pressure.

one hand snaked around your throat, tightly squeezing and constricting your airway, before letting go and beginning again. the other hand trailed between your breasts, flicking each nipple harshly before moving on to your abdomen and to the line of your panties. he removes his knee and gives your stomach a soft slap for the whine that left your mouth.

"i told you to stop speaking. that means no noise whatsoever." his voice was low and full of lust.

you nodded, aware that even a "yes sir" would reward you another slap, most likely a lot more rough.

his attention refocuses onto your underwear, which he strokes gently, loving how wet you already were even with them on. he slipped a finger below the red lace, brushing against your clit which makes you twitch, before shoving them aside and pushing a finger inside of you. his change of pace shocks you, but you have little time to care when he moves the finger inside of you to reach your g-spot. a second finger is added quickly after the first, and then a third. you felt helpless against his body, unsure of where to touch him, so you let your hands grip his hair tightly.

you tried your hardest to remember the rule of no noise, but his fingers stretching you out so wonderfully produced a groan in the back of your throat. in immediate response, he smacks your breast and then the other in quick succession, so hard that the skin prickles with sharp pain afterwards. you clamp your mouth shut to prevent further punishment.

his fingers resumed their jobs, sliding in and out of you rapidly. when his thumb rubbed your clit in circles, your thighs stiffened. almost immediately you could feel the pressure building in your belly, and your hips began moving of their own accord, toes softly curling.

"ah, ah, ah. you don't come until i say you do, y/n. stop it." he commands, removing his fingers to prove his point serious. your body no longer feels whole without them inside it, and your face reflects the feeling nicely with upturned eyebrows and a pouty lip.

"fuck you, jacob. just let me come, please!" you say between gritted teeth, to which he laughs. this frustrates you more and you give his cheek a light smack to show you didn't appreciate being laughed at while being edged.

he pushes all three fingers inside you at once, but his previous work made it a comfortable, pleasurable action for you. he began his pattern against your clit again and you writhed around under him in efforts not to come. your mouth lolled open at one point, and he put a finger from his other hand in between your teeth, letting you bite gently. the pleasure was almost too much- every muscle in your body was tense and any touch felt layered with electricity. he let you reach the edge of orgasm almost five times, getting you more and more worked up and then denying your release. you were almost frenzied with frustration and had let more than a few cries leave your lips.

"god-fuck! please just let me come sir, please! i'm being good!"

"not when you're still fucking talking, slut. shut up or i won't let you come at all."

you quickly silence yourself, to which he nods in approval and builds you up to orgasm for the sixth time. your eyes were starting to flutter with the effort of keeping your orgasm at bay when he finally whispered in your ear for you to let go.

"come for me now, like the good girl i know you are."

the command was more than enough for you to come, possibly harder than you ever have in your life. your eyes rolled back and your legs went lax- he brushed his fingers over your sensitive clit a few times, relishing in your whole-body twitches with a smile on his face.

once your eyes refocused onto him, he removed his fingers, slowly sucking your juices off them. he licked up each digit before pushing them into his mouth to suck- this was a show purely to torture you.

when you were finally ready and not too sensitive to touch, he pulled you up and told you to get on your hands and knees on the bed, which you obediently do. he positioned his cock between your folds, collecting lubrication from your juices. you waited for him to push in, but he never did. he stood behind you, occasionally rubbing your clit before moving back up to your entrance.

you huffed after almost five minutes of this, and he chuckles.

"do you want me to fuck you?" he asks.

you nod, unsure if you're still not allowed to speak.

"i'd like you to tell me how much you want me to fuck you."

"so badly- please, jake. i just need your cock inside me now. please." you beg desperately.

"what's my name?" he tantalises.

"ja-sir. sir." you swiftly correct yourself, realising your mistake beforehand.

he hums with approval before finally, pushing himself inside of you. slowly, slowly, inch by inch, he was filling you up so nicely you could almost cry. then, as if a switch is flipped in his mind, his hips slam into your ass, pulling out slowly only to slam himself back into you. he continued this hard pace for a few more thrusts before letting go of any anticipation and speeding up.

his hands grip your hips so tightly you'd be shocked if they didn't bruise tomorrow, and you let your face be completely smashed into his comforter. his hips don't falter for a second, continuing the relentless pace.

letting the sound of skin against skin and both of your ragged breaths fill the room, you feel your eyes flutter again. you were already reaching another climax and he let it wash over you this time. you scream into the comforter and convulse, only made more sensitive by jake's frenzied thrusts.

after your second orgasm, you let your hips grind back onto his cock, a move he wasn't expecting and he lets out a low growl into your hair. this only spurs you on further so you continue to move back, enjoying the delicious sounds of pleasure emerge from his open mouth.

"you feel amazing against my cock, sweet girl. you're doing such a good job taking all of me like this." he pants as he speaks, each syllable dripping with arousal.

his pace does begin to falter- still fast enough to make you forget where you were, but by enough for you to know he was close. he reached around and rubbed harshly into your clit, delighting in the scream that leaves your lips.

"we're gonna come together, aren't we, sweet girl? yes we are." he whispers into your ear.

you can only nod as words now fail you, so focused on building yourself up to a third orgasm that you almost forget to breath.

his moans are what push you over the edge. he was so vocal once he started, and it was the most filthy, delectable sound in the world to you.

he comes almost the same time as you, biting down onto your shoulder to poorly muffle his loudest groan yet. your eyes rolled into your head again and you let the familiar waves of pleasure float you into an endless sky of colours and stars.

you stay connected until he gets his breath, pulling out and immediately going to find you something to clean up with. he pulled you into his chest after he sat against the headboard, kissing your hair absentmindedly.

"you did such a good job, sweet girl. well done." he praised, brushing a hand across your cheek.

after a moment of comfortable silence, you look into his eyes and smile.

"does this mean you still hate me?" you ask playfully. he smiles too, revealing pearly whites.

"i guess i would say i don't hate you, but we might have to do that a few more times before i can say i like you, sweet." he murmurs in jest.

he pulls you in for a kiss, light and uncertain. jake's demeanour had changed so quickly, you were almost scared it was a dream. after so many years of feeling nothing but contempt for this man, you feel your heart begin to soften. his hair was soft under your fingers and you let them brush over his cheekbone, exploring his features in a way you had never allowed before. he really was beautiful.

"i don't want you to be scared of me, y/n.” he says earnestly, making sure you were listening by gently holding your chin towards him.

you breath a laugh, smiling up at him.

"i’m not scared of you, jake."

his face changes. it..softens. you sit in the silence that follows, mulling over the implications behind both of your statements.

the only sound that filled the room was the music next door, reminding you that there was a party going on outside and people would soon be looking for one of the two birthday boys.

but for now, in this moment, you enjoyed your time with him.

taglist: @aureummel @theweightofstardust @saremar1

[yelenabelovasbxtch]

We Could Be A Better Boyfriend

Kate Bishop X f!reader X Yelena Belova

a/n: Okay I know if you're on my page reading this fic you've heard Dove Cameron's new song! So obviously I have been listening to it non-stop and needed to write a fic about it. I like this story and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want it to become a series! There's just something about Yelena AND Kate...anyways I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Smut!, Fingering, strap, Drinking and driving (don't do this!), 18+, not proofread

Word Count: 2133

Concept: Your boyfriend stands you up on valentines day and you meet two women that want to treat you properly.

Taglist: @imapotatao @kacka84 @sofisnn @hoeforwandanat @variant-l0852 @mellowladyangel @violetwitchmcu @m-zne237 @laaurrel @chloe7076 @miphas-trident @chickenlittlsblog @sapphic-girl @simp4haiz @hardwastelandbread @thorya22 @kassies-take @imnotgoodwithimpulsecontrol @justthis-stuff @amcg0615 @be-missed

After being completely stood up on Valentine’s Day because he had to work, you were 100% ready to break things off with your boyfriend. You felt embarrassed and shitty and you had no idea what to do. The two of you had been dating for 4 years but the last 2 of them have barely felt like it. He isn’t around as much as he used to be and when he is it feels like he’s not actually there. You decided to go to the bar in the restaurant you were supposed to meet him at and grab a drink. You had a couple too many and were feeling a little bit tipsy. As the night went on, the bar started playing music louder as fewer people were dining and more so drinking and dancing. By the time midnight rolled around, it was packed with people out drinking with their friends. As you sat at the bar you pretty much just scrolled through your phone since you didn’t actually know anybody there. You were talking to the bartender but since it got so busy he couldn’t hang around chit-chatting anymore. Right when you felt like it was time to call it a night a blonde girl sits on the stool next to you.

“Are you here alone?” She says in a thick Russian accent.

“Yeah. Boyfriend stood me up.”

“On Valentine's day?” You hear someone say from your other side.

You quickly turn your head and she another woman with black hair and the most beautiful eyes looking at you.

“Yeah, we’ve been on the rocks for the last little bit and I guess I just mattered so little to him that he didn’t even bother showing up to our reservation.” You say.

“Oh malyshka, that’s no good, I’m sorry that happened to you.” The blonde says.

You have no idea what she just said to you but she sounded sexy as hell saying it.

“Yeah, that’s really not cool of him, someone as beautiful as you deserves to be treated better than that. Don’t you think so Yelena?”

Yelena. What a beautiful name.

“I agree. How about you let us…show you a good time?” Yelena whispers in your ear as you look at the raven-haired girl.

She spins you around so she is mere inches away from your face as she stares you down with this look like she craved you although you only just met. As you nod your head she smiles, throwing back a shot of vodka and grabs your wrist pulling you out onto the dance floor.

The three of you were a perfect level of drunk. The flashing lights, loud music and having two of the hottest women you’ve ever seen dancing up against you…it was euphoric.

“I’m Kate by the way love,” She says whispered into your ear as she grinds on you from behind.

“y/n.” You reply.

“Nice to meet you y/n,” Yelena says as her hands travel down to your hips making you sway with her to the rhythm of the song.

You were pressed up in between the two of them and as Kate got closer and closer to you.

Her hands came around the front of your hips pulling you tightly against her. Yelena grabbed your face with one hand and she pulled her head forward so that your forehead met hers. You felt like you were frozen in time, and you wanted to stay there between the two of them forever.

“How about we get out of here and you let us truly take care of you?” Yelena says with a smirk as her lips are centimetres away from touching yours.

Before you get the chance to respond, Kate leans into your neck and lays little kisses going down it. “We could be a better boyfriend than him. Let us prove it to you.” She whispers in your ear.

As she says this, Yelena locks eyes with you and has almost a mischievous expression on her face. She knew you were going to say yes, how could you not?

“Let’s go.” You say.

Yelena’s eyes immediately shoot back and look at Kate as a big smile crosses her face. She grabs your wrist and pulls you through the crowd with Kate following close behind until you reach the exit. As you walk out, they pull you towards the back parking lot where they both had motorcycles sitting and waiting. Yelena helps you onto the back of hers as they both kick off and drive you about 2 miles from the bar back to their place. They lived in a huge apartment building on the top floor. The three of you are standing in the elevator and Kate and Yelena make eye contact as you stand in between the two of them.

“Lena…we are almost there. You can wait.” Kate says.

Yelena narrows her eyebrows at Kate’s statement as you stand there confused as to what they’re talking about. Yelena slowly starts inching towards you, “Lena! Like one minute tops.”

Yelena smirks at Kate as she grabs the back of your neck with one hand and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss. The two of you couldn’t see Kate rolling her eyes but Yelena knew that she was. The blonde pushes you against the wall in the elevator as she continues to kiss you passionately. As the elevator dings, signalling we’ve arrived at their floor, Yelena pulls away and takes a small bite out of your lower lip as she does.

Kate grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the elevator as Yelena fumbles through her keys. She unlocks the door and Kate immediately directs you to their shared bedroom.

As she pushes you down on their bed you hear Yelena follow behind her and close the door. You start to take your shirt off when Kate grabs your hand, “no, no love. Tonight is about you, let us do all the work.” She says.

Your eyes are wide as you don’t even know what to say because your boyfriend never treated you like this, he was barely able to turn you on. As you start to scoot up their bed towards their pillows you feel someone behind you. Yelena is sitting at the top of the bed as she pulls you up between her legs and starts trailing small kisses on the top of your head. Kate takes her shirt off and climbs on top of you. She connects your lips with hers as fast as she can, she tastes sweet. Like a soft mixture of her cherry lip balm with a slight hint of the cocktail, she drank at the bar. Kate pushes her tongue into your mouth, allowing you to taste all of her as Yelena starts pulling your shirt up your body from behind. Your lips separate for a single second to allow the shirt to pass over your head. In that time, Kate looks you up and down.

“Fuck– you’re beautiful princess.” She mumbles out as her lips crash into yours again.

You can feel Yelena’s hands wandering all over your body from behind. She undid your bra, which was quickly tossed aside and her fingers rolled your nipples between them which caused you to let out small moans into Kate’s lips. Kate pulls away and looks up at Yelena as she goes to kiss her too as her chest is shoved into your face. You started kissing Kate’s skin as she then pulled away and makes her way down your torso. The raven-haired girl starts pulling your pants off and leaving small kisses on your thighs as she does so. She managed to find a soft spot on your hip causing you to let out a soft moan and your back to arch oh so slightly. Once your pants and underwear were thrown onto the ground she spread your legs and started slowly circling her tongue around your clit. Wasting absolutely no time at all, you felt two of her fingers slowly start to insert into you. You let out a throaty moan as she pulled them out and pushed them back in again as her tongue continued to flick your clit. You could already feel the heat growing in your stomach. As Kate continued to pump her fingers in and out of you and her tongue drawing circles, Yelena was playing with your nipples bringing you closer to the edge.

“Fuck– Kate, I’m close.” You groan.

“Cum for me princess.” She says.

Those words were enough to push you over the edge. Your back arches up as she continues to pump into you letting you ride out your high.

As you come down and she pulls out, her fingers come up to Yelena’s mouth.

“You taste so good malyshka.” She mumbles in your ear. “Is it my turn now?”

Yelena pulls herself out from behind you as Kate continues to kiss your thighs, licking up any mess you made. The blonde stands off to the side pulling her pants down when you see a big toy spring free. Yelena was packing. You weren’t sure if you could recover from your orgasm so quickly but holy were you fucking turned on when you saw her wearing that strap.

“Can you help me out?” She asks Kate. Kate gets down on her knees and starts sucking Yelena off in front of you, getting her wet and ready. After about a minute or so she comes on top of you, kissing your lips, slowly and passionately as you feel her tip slightly graze over your pussy lips when she moves.

You were starting to get angsty waiting for her.

“Yelena–”

“Yes, malyshka?”

“I want– I need you inside me.” You say.

She lets out a little chuckle under her breath as one of her hands goes down to line up the toy with your entrance. You feel her tip slowly separating your lips as she rubs up and down on your clit making you squirm beneath her. After you were practically burning to feel her inside of you, she eases in ever so slowly, allowing you to fully adjust to her length once she was in all the way. It was the best feeling in the world. Yelena started slowly pumping in and out of you, smirking as she watched your head tip back from the sheer pleasure that was consuming your body. As she picked up the pace her head came down to level with yours, you felt her breath heavy in your neck as she was quickly pumping in and out of you. Your one hand was pulling on her hair as you moaned into her ear.

“Malyshka…could you do me a huge favour?” She whispers in your ear as she pulls back so your faces are so close that your foreheads are touching.

You nod in response not able to get physical words out.

“Could you let my beautiful girlfriend ride those pretty lips of yours?”

The question was followed by another nod from you where she then connected your lips with hers and pulled back again. Kate came out from behind Yelena and positioned herself on top of your face as her girlfriend continued to fuck you. You could hear the two of them kissing above you as you shoved your tongue into Kate’s pussy. You picked up the pace and without even realizing it your hips were bucking too, you were getting close again. Yelena and Kate could tell and the thought of you cumming around her girlfriend's dick was enough to edge Kate too. As Yelena picked up the pace again you were moaning into Kate’s pussy when she felt your body twitch and your hips flew up in the air holding the position as you climaxed. Watching this happen made Kate cum all over your face, moaning into her girlfriend's mouth. Once Kate had calmed down she flopped onto the bed next to you. Yelena stood at the foot of the bed, looking at both of you as she undid her strap.

“God, you two are beautiful.” She says. “Y/n, I hope we proved to you that we are definitely better than any boyfriend you may have. I hope you want to stick around.”

As she says this Kate turns to you pulling you tightly against her body to cuddle. Yelena hops in bed on your other side as you face her giving you small kisses all over your face.

“Yeah, I think I want to stay too.” You say.

“Good, and tomorrow…we make pancakes!” Kate says with excitement in her voice.

The three of you fall asleep next to each other and you had what was one of the best nights of your life.

– The End –

[kaorisun]

hello! hope you're having a lovely day :) could I ask for a one shot with quest and an enby reader who is severely touch deprived? to the point that when he initiates affection they just freeze and don't know what to do. and quest is just concerned that he might be scaring them due to his background and just slowly stops trying to start physical touch with them. please make it as angsty as you would like, have a nice day :)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 BLOOMIC. poison in your mind (quest x reader)

tags ; heavy angst, invasive thoughts, touch starved reader, gender neural reader

summary ; (y/n) is incredibly touch deprived— unable to process or bear the affection of another. It feels like far too much for them to handle, yet they’re unable to express that. Quest spirals into his own thoughts— afraid that his partner has become afraid of him due to his past. Slowly, the two drift apart.

author’s note ; ouch— this is an amazing request, anon! Thank you for the request and I hope you’re having a lovely day as well! Quest angst really hits different and this concept hurts my heart in the best way possible. I hope you enjoy! :)

It was supposed to be a happy, fun-filled week. It was supposed to be the moment that their love was solidified— time for both of them to take a break from work, to enjoy each other’s presence. It was anything but that. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Wasn’t supposed to end like this.

It was a few weeks after (y/n) had joined the Blooming Panic server. In that time frame, Quest had fallen hard for them— quickly growing protective over the other, more so after the societyboy situation. The two had begun dating and soon enough, the censors lifted.

Quest was excited— he’d scheduled himself a vacation week just for this. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself a break to enjoy the week with his partner. He counted down the days, hours— the minutes until they arrived. (y/n) expressed similar excitement— stating that they couldn’t wait to see him in person and to finally make it all feel tangible and more real than it felt before. Upon their arrival, things went smoothly. They had a fun conversation in the car on the way to Quest’s apartment— lighthearted jokes and laughs exchanged between them.

Quest looked at (y/n) with nothing but adoration. Being in person with them now… them being by his side and not behind a screen— it was a dream come true. He loved them even more than he had previously, if that was even possible. Every laugh, smile and word spoken— it all made his heart swell with joy. They were his. They loved him despite everything that happened— able to look beyond his past and recognize him as a truly changed man who wanted nothing but the absolute best for others, even if that meant the sacrifice of his own happiness. A flaw that only expressed his deep fear of hurting others. (y/n) knew that and made sure that he was taken care of. They checked in on him, reminded him to rest properly just as he had done for so many others.

They loved him and he felt the exact same towards them. He never noticed anything being particularly off with them— didn’t see any signs that anything could be wrong.

But everything spiraled downwards. Starting from when the pair arrived back at his apartment.

Quest opened the door for them and they walked in with a smile, looking around as they admired the decor. Minimal, but still authentically Quest. He couldn’t help but melt a bit at the look on their face, soon grabbing their bag from their hands.

“Make yourself comfortable, angel. I’ll put this in the bedroom. Then I’ll make you something to drink. Then we’ll figure out dinner.” He said softly. (y/n) responded with a grateful nod, feeling tired from the journey there. They watched him walk off before settling on the couch with a relieved sigh.

Quest walked back into the main space after a few minutes, glancing over at his lover who was sitting back, their eyes shut as they relaxed for a moment. He couldn’t believe that they were actually there— they were with him in his apartment after so many weeks spent behind a screen. He walked over, wrapping his arms around them from behind and resting his head on their shoulder.

“You know, if you want we can just stay in tonight. Order takeout and just enjoy each other’s company instead.” He suggested in a warm tone, a small smile on his face. However, instead of the loving response he expected, he got nothing.

(y/n) tensed underneath his touch, becoming completely still, their eyes widened. The touch was something completely foreign to them— something they’d never experienced before. Although they craved it— wanted so badly to be physically affectionate— it was something they’d been deprived of for so long that they had no idea how to handle it. They were sensitive to it and their thoughts ran rampant. Too much, too much— too much! Say something— explain it to him— say anything! Despite their efforts, they remained silent, unable to express their thoughts, feeling it on the tip of their tongue but unable to claw their way out.

Quest’s eyes widened at their discomfort— quickly pulling away. He walked around the couch to face them directly. Scanning their expression, he noticed something— something he mistook as fear, and his heart dropped. The shakiness, tension, wide eyes— it had to be fear, right? (y/n), however, shut their eyes tightly. Had their anxiety scared him off? Had he gotten the wrong idea? They cursed themself in their head. Of course this would happen. Of course they’d be unable to state the one thing they wanted to explain when they met Quest in person.

“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you— or startle you. I didn’t think you’d— I’m sorry, (y/n).” He said softly and (y/n) shook their head and averted their gaze away.

“It’s fine. There’s no need to apologize— let’s just stay in and watch a movie and order food. I don’t… want to talk about this.” (y/n) explained apologetically. They couldn’t get the words out and they didn’t want to frustrate themself with trying to explain something without the words to properly express it. Quest’s expression fell. He’d be more careful next time— make sure to initiate affection when they expected it. Maybe that’s why they’d been so startled. It couldn’t be because of… that… right? They weren’t like that. They weren’t fearful when they found out.

Quest nodded in understanding, pushing the topic out of his mind for the time being and putting forth a gentle smile.

“Here, pick a movie. I’ll order us food. Craving anything in particular?” He asked and (y/n) hummed softly before shaking their head, soon turning on the tv and scrolling through movie selections. The rest of the night went by quickly— the two enjoying the presence of the other, the incident long forgotten.

That was the end of that— and for a while, things were okay, however, it didn’t last long. These things have a tendency to rear their ugly heads at the worst possible time.

It was the middle of the week, the two were eating dinner together in the apartment and Quest had idly reached over and grabbed (y/n)’s hand from across the table— and thus returned the anxiety, the stillness and the silence— and for Quest, many ugly feelings of fear bubbled within him and he quickly pulled his hand back away from theirs with a soft apology.

He kept trying, figuring that his partner just needed to get used to his presence— but he was met with the same intense reaction each time.

(y/n) wanted so desperately to tell him how they felt— every time Quest tried to give affection, they wanted so badly to reciprocate, but their body was completely unaware of how affection felt— how the touch of another felt— that they always grew anxious. Both had the most poisonous thoughts in their heads— but both couldn’t say a thing.

Quest wondered after his many failed attempts if it was his background. Was his lover scared that he’d hurt them? He never even dreamed of it— but was that why? He always tried to initiate affection, but the other always clammed up— tears pricking their eyes— and with time, Quest’s attempts became less and less frequent as he drew into himself.

He wondered what his lover thought of him. What did they see? A monster? A criminal? A violent person who hadn’t changed a bit from his past? Each thought was worse than the last— and each one he kept to himself.

(y/n) wondered similar things. Did Quest find their predicament pitiful? Did he see them as a broken, dysfunctional person who couldn’t even respond to the touch of another? Did he view them as someone who was weak? Someone he didn’t want to involve himself with? They noticed him slowly stop initiating affection— and they wondered if he somehow felt unloved, annoyed— or upset with them. Did Quest feel like they couldn’t trust him? That their silence wasn’t a matter of circumstance, but of choice? (y/n) had no idea, but they were physically unable to get the words out— feeling strained in their throat whenever they tried.

Soon enough, even conversation ceased between them. The discomfort and tension was too great— either party unable to utter a word. Quest was fearful that soon enough, even a word out of his mouth would be enough to make his partner flinch. (y/n) was afraid that another attempt to tell the truth would lead to them breaking down completely in frustration. As the hours passed, the emotional distance manifested into something physical— with Quest unable to even sit near them without feeling afraid that he’d startle his lover. (y/n) wanted so desperately to reach out when he physically distanced himself— but their body was frozen in place.

Now, (y/n) was sat silently on the couch with Quest seated in the kitchen. The echoes of the earlier, happy memories of the week were still ever present, and both reminisced on it. Quest and (y/n) both missed the earlier lighthearted nature of their interactions— the jokes, laughter and brightness.

When had things become so fucked up?

They were seated in the same room as each other, yet, despite that?

It was the most alone that either one of them had ever felt. The last word spoken between them was by Quest— a soft, rhetorical question that (y/n) wasn’t even supposed to hear.

“When did you become so afraid of me?”

That question still rang loudly in (y/n)’s head, haunting every corner of their memories. They still had a few more days of this unbearable silence to deal with. They distantly heard Quest stand up and walk into the bedroom, shutting the door.

Only then did (y/n) allow themself to break down— the tears finally fell. They covered their mouth, silencing their sobs as the guilt overwhelmed them. They were hurting Quest— they made him feel unloved— made him feel like it was his fault when it was anything but— all because their anxiety regarding touch wouldn’t let them utter a single word. It had a strong hold over them— and they felt as if they couldn’t do a thing about it.

They pulled back, staring at their hands before wrapping their arms tightly around themselves, their body shaking with the weight of their sobs as one thought rang loudly throughout their mind.

“What is wrong with me?”

And all Quest could do was listen from his room as his lover— his angel tried so desperately to stifle their sobs. He sat, his back against the door as he tried recounting the events of the previous days— trying so hard to figure out— Had it been doomed from the beginning? Did he do something to set them off? Had they both been in over their heads—

When did everything go wrong?

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey buisness - john shelby x reader (part 5 of ?)

gif by my literal angel @michaelgreys who keeps blessing us like holy fuck

a/n: all i can say is that this is the hottest one yet. as always, my girl @stxdyblr-2k did an amazing job so i hope you all enjoy :) and i'm still working on requests, tysm for all of them!!

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland

prompt: john just can't help himself when he sees you with someone else.

warnings: nsfw!!! smut, fluff, angst, light praise kink, john fucking adores you and spends a good amount of time with his head between your legs (yes i know!!!!!)

John had spotted you from across the London nightclub, his table tucked into the balcony area, perfectly positioned to survey the entire club. It'd been over a month since he laid eyes on you last. Sometimes, he wondered if it was possible for you to only get more beautiful every time he saw you. He wasn't surprised, as he'd been warned of your presence by Tommy, but he was unable to stop himself from staring at you, hair neatly styled, scarlet velvet dress clinging to every curve, red lipstick emphasizing your lips, a light haze of pink pressed into your cheekbones, lash-line expertly darkened with kohl. You were dancing with one of Isaiah's friends; the young man was tall and muscular -- a blinder foot soldier, John concluded, draining his glass of whiskey, flagging the waiter down for another.

The young lad was smiling down at you. John took a swig from his drink bitterly, the man obviously head over heels, his eyes bright, excitedly glancing from your lips to your figure. John could feel himself cringe; the younger man had all the subtlety and strategy of a malnourished dog. Then again, who could blame the lad? You were an absolute vision, twirling and giggling, off your face on something Michael had brought. John couldn't help but watch, wishing it was him who had caught your attention tonight, wanting to feel your breath fan across his neck, pulling away while you giggled at his blushing arousal; him whisking you to dark corners to steal a moment of quiet.

He'd tried to get over you but he couldn't. He'd been travelling a lot lately, business in Liverpool, Edinburgh and Belfast; yet in every woman who smiled at him, he found himself searching for you in their eyes, their smiles, their laugh. They were all gorgeous, but his heart simply wasn't in it.

Tonight had started off alright, normal Peaky activity. They'd seized the club only a few hours ago, gaining vital territory in London, bagging their place in the opiate trade and a successful business prospect in one fell swoop. By all accounts, John should’ve been happy, but he'd been too lost in his own mind lately to properly take in the consequences of those sleepless nights with the accounting books, all the hours practicing shooting and boxing, all the endless driving, the meetings, the lingering stench of death which clung to his family. Try as he might, he couldn't enjoy himself. His night got worse the second he spotted you; a yearning for you suddenly flooding his veins. It was easy to get on with life when you were hundreds of miles from him, but when you were a flight of stairs away? He knew the club had countless dark passages to hide away with you, multiple cloak rooms with thick brick walls to take you against: he had to stop his mind running wild. He couldn't. That had to be the last time. You were in his past, you had to stay there. But as he watched you dance with the blinder, he could feel the familiar burn of jealousy swell deep within him. The lad was far too close to you for his comfort, practically grazing his hips to yours. John roughly rubbed his jaw at the sight, silently seething to himself in the shadows.

Thomas studied his brother's body language, taking a slow drag of his cigarette, not understanding the fuss around you. Sure, you were pretty enough; you were bright, apparently funny, but you had never caught his attention really. He observed how John's eyes followed your every move, every sway of your hips closely watched as he held his breath, losing himself to you. He was glad he'd prompted Michael to invite you; this was the most attentive he'd seen John in a month. It was no coincidence that he'd dragged you away from Birmingham, from the watching eyes of the city locals, the wagging tongues in the assembly lines, far from Ada. Michael had admitted to Thomas that it was easy to persuade you, promising you a lift in his new car and a night out as Ada had plans with a gentleman. A night of dancing with your favourite lads and an all expenses paid trip to London? You couldn't resist.

John's jaw had tensed and squared, the man murmuring something against your neck causing you to giggle and grasp his collar. Thomas could tell his brother was practically bristling with jealousy. If looks could kill, the young man clinging to your hips would be long dead from the glare unleashed on him by the tallest Shelby brother.

"You gonna sit there useless or are you gonna fucking do something about it, eh?" Tommy inquired, nudging him with his shoulder.

"I can't."

"No one will know." Thomas pointed out, raising a brow, "The Blinders will say fuck all if they see owt. They keep quiet when it's about us Shelby brothers, yeah?"

John glanced at him, eyes slightly widened, confusion furrowing his brows. "You've changed your fuckin' tune."

"Sometimes, it's good to have secrets. What Ada doesn't know about the events of tonight won't hurt her."

"We don't do secrets. We're meant to trust each other." John objected. "We're a family."

"Nothing will change, John. I'll fix it for you, yeah? You've had a rough few weeks, you should reward yourself."

"She's not a fuckin’ prize, Tom."

"Keep talking that shit and people will get the wrong idea, think you love the woman or sommet." Thomas shrugged, taking a sip of his drink, while John's cheeks flared, his eyes flinching to the floor. He smirks to himself. "You going to go get your lass, then?"

John replied wordlessly, standing and downing the rest of his drink, pulling on his suit jacket, straightening his collar. "I'll catch you later, Tom."

********

The lad was nice, his name had long disappeared into the fog of liquor and Tokyo. He was someone's cousin, but he was polite; charming, almost. Most importantly, he wasn't related to your best friend. Not quite a Casanova type like John, but you two were a good match, everyone thought so. You'd seen him a few times now over the past week. He wasn't much of a talker, but he was a good dancer, and sweet after a few pints.

The band started playing a slower song, Isaiah dancing chest to chest with a beautiful girl across from you. You felt your partner place his fingers on the small of your back, his fingers inching lower, pulling you in closer before the two of you were interrupted by a dark figure looming over you.

"Can I cut in, mate?" A strong Birmingham accent sliced through the air, voice low and polite enough, but with a tone that was laced with venom. "Or are you gonna be a dick about it?"

The lad glanced nervously between you two, moving his hands away from you, embarrassed to be caught by his boss in this state, John staring him down. You slowly pulled away from him, turning to face John.

"Or you could ask me to dance yourself, John?"

John silently glared back at you, his mouth tensed into a thin line. He looked momentarily embarrassed, his attention switching back to your dance partner, the rest of lads silently watching, breaths baited, ready to jump in on the action if the moment required it.

"I'm heading off mate, reckon she's a cocktease." Your partner comments, attempting to diffuse the tension, stepping away, not wanting a fight or to piss off his boss. His path was quickly blocked by another blinder. You shot him an apologetic look and took the large hand John was offering you.

"Or, she's just not interested in you," John quipped, smirking, locking his fingers through yours. "You gonna go get your coat while I finish up with your best mate?"

"Thought we were dancing?"

"You can dance as much as you like in the suite, yeah? Proper gramophone. You coming?"

"You just want me on my own."

"Just tired of the distractions." He told you pointedly, skimming his glare over the group of men, standing with baited breath, preparing for it to kick off.

You rolled your eyes but squeezed his hands, slowly heading to the cloakroom, chatting with the attendant as you watched John confront the lad, keeping your distance. His arms were clutching the lad's lapels, snarling in his face before pushing him back. Michael watched from a few steps away, smoking absentmindedly, spine pressed to a pillar, leaving his cousin to sort out whatever offense he believed the man had caused.

You bundled yourself up in your thin coat, a gift from one of the girls you hung around with as she had recently married a blinder and was being spoiled rotten. The coat's flimsy material was going to be useless against the London night. At least you could count on John to keep you warm on the walk back to the hotel. You headed towards the side door, John's hand quickly finding your lower back protectively as he fell into step beside you. He opened the heavy wooden doors for you, the cold air an instant relief from the heat of the nightclub. You turned back as the door closed, catching a glimpse of the boys closing in on the lad, their eyes gleaming with a violent hunger for action.

"He'll be alright. Daft prick just getting put in his place." John said flatly. He seemed bored but watched you anxiously, begging you with his eyes to drop the subject.

"Is the hotel close by?" You asked casually, as the frigid air swirled around your calves, instantly causing you to shiver.

"I'll get us a cab, love, can't have you in those heels trekking halfway across London town." He stepped fearlessly into the road, unbothered about any potential danger or just forgetful from the whiskey. Quickly, a dark cab pulled up to the cobblestone pavement and John helped you in, taking off his coat and wrapping it around your shoulders before climbing in after you.

As the engine started and the car made its way through London's dimly lit streets to Camden, John's hand found its way to your thigh. You glanced at him, his eyes looking away but his thumb angled against his teeth. He was nervous, having not touched you in a month. You crossed your legs, angling them towards him, his hand shifting higher up your thighs, taking a deep sigh of relief. Your hands found his chin in the gloom of the back of the car, only the occasional bright lights from a nightlife hub or the demure lights of a residential illuminating his face, the angles changing as the cab drove on. It was too much. You'd been needing this for the past month, needing him. Your hands laced around the back of his head and you pressed your lips to his for a brief moment, allowing John to pull you deeper into the kiss. It awoke something familiar inside you, something comforting. Kissing John erased all your homesickness. Christ, you had to stop thinking like this.

"You've not been about for a bit, sweetheart. I know we said never again, but I was hoping you'd come by," John muttered, forehead pressed to yours, breath mingling with yours as he spoke.

"I almost did. The amount of times I nearly visited your office.. I just couldn't do that to you or Ada. Besides, last I heard, you were on tour." You admitted, keeping your voice down to save the cab driver the embarrassment. John caressed your cheekbone with his thumb, tracing the corner of your mouth, prompting a grin from you.

"Last place on earth I'd expected to see you next, it's been hectic my end," He sighed. His eyes were outlined with deep purple smudges of exhaustion, yet he was still devastatingly beautiful even after all the sleepless nights. "It's been too long."

"Not my fault you've been hiding yourself away. You should've called."

"Blame Tommy for that. His solution seems to be sending me on business trips. Trying to make me too tired to handle you." A nervous lick of his lips revealed John’s response to the suggestion that he call you. He wanted to say he would ring next time, but there couldn't be a next time.

"You can barely handle me on a good day, Mr. Shelby."

"Can't blame me. You seen yourself? On the brink as soon as I see you, lass." He teased, earning a gentle shove to the shoulder as you quickly pressed a kiss underneath his chin. You wanted to bring up Thomas' threat, but you bit your tongue, nudging his shin with the toe of your heel in the back of the cab. He rolled his eyes, grabbing your wrists lightly. "Behave yourself in front of the nice cabbie, sweetheart."

You soften at his touch, unable to resist reaching to interlock your fingers, squeezing his hands in yours affectionately. The spirits your table had been bringing you all night definitely boosted your confidence, any hesitancy due to potential rejection drowned out. John pressed his lips to your knuckles in response. He seemed different tonight, far more protective and serious than usual. He was so quiet it was strange, usually yapping your ear off, desperate for you to react, treating him to a giggle, a middle finger or a cutting response. You'd also never witnessed him spark off due to someone's interaction with you. Finn had mentioned a week or so back that John had a shouting match with Thomas and in the moment, your name got thrown up in the conversation, resulting in John taking a swing at his big brother out of frustration. It was confusing. He was willing to start fights over you, punch his brother, yet when you two were alone he was uncomfortably quiet, studying you, lost in his thoughts. His silence only made your body long for him, his fingers tracing patterns in your inner thigh. You let out a small whimper into the crook of his neck, as he instinctively pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

The car pulled up outside the hotel, your pulse racing, the anticipation already threatening to make you give in completely to his wishes tonight. You waited as he turned up his collar against the rain, clambering out of the car to open your door, creatively arranging the coat to hover just above both your heads protecting you from the miserable weather. Although John had referred to the building as a hotel, you could instantly tell the manor was some aristocrat's third or fourth home, obviously being rented out or gifted to business partners for trips. It was an imposing grey stone building, exquisitely carved, although not a country estate, the house was just as large. Was John used to this? It hit you all of a sudden that you'd never set foot inside John's home. You'd heard from Ada that it was overrun with hoards of screaming children. She often joked with the children at the Shelby Institute that if they hung around long enough at John's, he'd assume they were one of his offspring. You'd only ever fucked him in a guest bed. The shame made your stomach churn.

You needed to remind yourself of this when your late night thoughts ran rampant. John could say what he liked, but he'd never actually allow you to get overly personal with him. Whatever confusing mess was winding around your skull regarding him was useless; it was best not to think about it. You went to him every time, yet he would've picked another lass tonight, it was just that you were there. He probably had a string of gorgeous women, older, more accomplished, more experienced, more elegant. He could tell you he missed you, but you could never take for granted that he told you this for any other reason than as a prelude to get you in bed with him. You were his gorgeous mess, but only for the night. It was best to remind yourself to care less than he did. It was the easiest solution in the long term; this way, the downfall would be less brutal.

"You alright, love?" He asked suddenly, breaking your train of thought.

"Sorry, I was thinking about work."

He lived around his brothers for long enough, he could smell bullshit. He decided to let it go. It was best to not push it tonight. Just keep it light hearted, easy, like it was always meant to be.

"If your boss keeps being a prick, you tell Ada. She'll sort him out."

"Don't I know it? He can barely open the door before she starts on about workplace ethics." You joked, earning a small smile instead of his usual bright chuckle. "John, what are we doing here?"

"Well I'm about to take you upstairs and sort you out, yeah? You gonna let me look after you?" He asked, stopping you in your tracks by turning you into him, grabbing your wrist.

"You know that isn't what I meant."

"I know. But can we leave it tonight? Can we just have fun?" He questioned, lips ghosting over yours, fixing you with an intense stare.

"It's fun anymore." Your voice cracked, the liquor in your system making it impossible to control your tone or your facial expressions. "It's fucking with my head, John."

"It's just.. fucking difficult. It's fucking difficult because of who we are." He replied firmly but dropped his makeshift coat shelter around your shoulders, freeing his hands to grab your face pulling it to his, the alcohol making him far needier than he usually appeared. "You, my beautiful Y/N, are a fucking losing game. It's not as easy for me, I can't just dance with a woman and get a leg over-"

"I never said you couldn't."

"I know, I.." He gestured vaguely, lifting one of his hands off your cheeks, and you can feel your head nodding in understanding. "You know, I thought I was going to manage it this time. That I wouldn't be a total fuck up, but then you and that lad-"

"Catch you getting jealous over me."

"Fuck off." He let go of you for a split second but you reeled him back in, resting your palms on the chest of his shirt, the soaked material sticking to his skin. You'd struck a nerve. You decided to push him further.

"I don't know what you're trying to do, Mr. Shelby, disappearing across the country for weeks then coming back and telling me you want me all to yourself?" You played with his collar, tugging his face to yours before pulling back at the last possible second, causing him to let out a frustrated groan, hands itching to feel you underneath them.

"Don't fucking wind me up," He snapped, the intensity between you rekindled momentarily.

"It's worked wonders in the past," You replied, barely able to finish your sentence before his mouth was on yours, his fingers tangling into your hair, kissing you properly. Although you'd kissed so many times prior, this one felt so genuine, as though unleashed from its restraints deep within John. You'd never kissed anyone in the rain before in the middle of the night, and it felt magical. You were shivering but hot all over, burning for John to do something, anything. You could feel his cock through his dress pants, hard against you, prompting you to moan into his mouth.

"Fuck’s sake, Y/N," John grunted into your ear, his hands grabbing at your arse. "You're fuckin’ killing me here. I need you, yeah?"

"Tell me how badly." You responded coyly, linking your arms around his neck, ignoring the late night drizzle.

"I'd rather show you. M’gonna take care of you tonight, make up for the month I've been gone."

"Who's saying I've not been taking care of myself?'

He bit his lip in frustration, trying to stop his mind running wild with the image of you in bed, fingers between your thighs, breasts moving as you arched your back, hips lifting off the mattress, moaning as you called his name -- his jaw clenched. "I know what you're doing. You coming up before you catch a chill?"

You shifted your weight away from him, as if considering your options. He knew your answer; you both knew in a few minutes you'd be upstairs practically tearing his shirt off, needing his skin against yours, begging for him. John pulled away from you, dragging you up the winding path to the front door of the manor, opening the door for you, arm wrapping around your waist. His lips met yours, then your collarbones and neck, prompting a breathy giggle and whine as you wound yourself back around him, craving the contact. The manor was plunged in darkness, staff somewhere in the gloom. Your arrival had definitely been noted, but as with everyone who worked for the Shelbys, they just left you to it. It was easier to not get involved, to keep their heads down and not mention the midnight trysts the brothers got up to.

John knew his path, he'd stayed here before. Even in the dark you could tell the house was decorated to spare no expense, the gaudy paintings and sculptures casting strange shadows. He led you up the grand flight of stairs, then another.

"Worse than Thomas' estate, this place." You murmured quietly, unsure of other guests within earshot.

"I could never live like this. I'd never see my brood again. Getting them ready for bed would be one hell of a nightmare." He whispered back, halting your stride by pulling your hips to his, unable to wait any longer.

"John, what if we get caught?" You asked, pressing your hand against his chest with your palm flat.

"Never bothered you before. Thought you liked the fact that anyone could just walk in and see what a pretty little mess you’ve made for me."

You couldn’t help yourself from pressing an affectionate kiss to his mouth, letting him lay you down and pin you to the stairs, the luxuriously thick carpets scraping into your flesh. He cursed under his breath at the sight of you underneath him, pushing your dress up your thighs, lifting your legs to wrap around his neck, pressing a kiss to your flimsy underwear, glancing up to drink you in. The most beautiful woman in his city, begging for him, figure swamped by his coat, rain soaked and shivering, his mouth between her thighs. He ran his tongue slowly across your clothed core, your pleading moans music to his ears, loving how your thighs tightened around his neck. His tongue traced circles over your clit and labia, the friction generated by the lace of your panties pushing you further, your hands knotting into his hair, spine arching against his mouth.

"No one been looking after you while I was gone. eh?" He asked, pressing kisses to your inner thigh, tugging your panties to the side. "What about your dancing pal?"

"Fuck’s sake, I barely know him, John." You snapped back, teetering on the edge between lust and frustration from his relentless teasing.

"Keep it that way. You don't need ‘im, lass, not while I'm about." He replies before lapping at your slit, interpreting your moans as approval as your head slumped back and you released a low groan. "Y/N, watch me, yeah?"

You pull yourself weakly upwards, propping yourself up in your elbows to be able to look down the staircase at John between your legs in the dark. The view was thrilling, moonlight shining in through the rain on the window, illuminating his face, hair messy and tongue flickering across your clit while he stared up at you, his eyes darkened with lust. You couldn't help but pant, knowing you'd be returning to this moment alone at night, when it was your fingers instead of John's tongue pushing you towards the edge.

"So fuckin' wet and ready for me, aren’t you?" He crooned, sliding his fingers into you, sucking at your clit between flicks of his tongue.

You couldn’t find the words to respond, whimpers leaving your mouth instead, your hips lifting beneath his palms, chest heaving.

"Go on, use your words, clever lass."

"John, fuck.. don't stop," You manage to string together, thoughts too muddled by alcohol and arousal to play hard to get any longer.

"I won't ‘til you cum in my mouth. Need to taste you again, beautiful."

Your head jerked back suddenly as John curled his fingers inside you, pushing up against the spot that made you lose your mind, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, all he could hear except from his blood rushing in his head. Your desperate cries for relief caused his cock to strain against his dress pants, fighting the urge to sort himself out, needing to finish you off. John needed to prove that he could fuck you better than anyone else. He knew he was pushing you to the edge, but he wasn't going to deny you your orgasm. He wanted to make a point with this. His fingers worked faster, his mouth hungry for you, lips moving against your core at a harsh pace.

You groaned loudly, hips bucking involuntarily just to be forced back against the carpet of the staircase. Your breaths grew heavier, warning him how close you were to your peak. John refused to let up, pushing you closer every second, lips latched to your core firmly, lapping up the wetness he'd produced.

"I want to watch you finish." He commanded, you completely at his will now that you'd lost control, lifting your head upwards with the little strength you had left to be able to stare down at his dilated blue eyes. "Good girl. You gonna show me how good I make you feel? You gonna cum for me, doll?"

You couldn't respond, unable to keep your eyes from rolling backwards as you felt yourself suddenly release, John’s name escaping from between your lips, legs shuddering around his neck. He let you ride it out on his tongue, tasting you desperately, watching your expression slowly relax.

Finally, he pulled away from your cunt, unwrapping your legs from his neck. He grabbed your wrist, not letting you retrieve your panties, stuffing them into his trouser pocket. He returned his attention to tracing your slit with the index finger and thumb of his other hand, as he pressed a long kiss to your lips.

"I love how you taste," He murmured against your lips, causing you to flush slightly. John noticed, pressing kisses to your jawbone. "Don't get shy on me now. I've barely started with you. Not even got you to the suite and you've already cum."

He looked so proud of himself, it suddenly clicked for you. He was trying to prove himself to you, for some unknown reason. You know he was protective and quite obviously jealous tonight, but you couldn't believe that John Shelby felt the need to prove that he knew what he was doing, as though you weren't aware. You weren't trekking to his office for mediocre sex. Tonight he let you finish first, no teasing, no denial, no fucking about. Just putting his ability fully on show, so when your mind went drifting it'd go back to him, not some young lad who barely knew what he was doing. His cocky attitude and smug acceptance of his sexual prowess would've been off-putting if it was anyone else, but John, but with his bright smile and constant humour, pulled it off. It was enticing, making your core pool with wetness when he crossed your mind.

"A month is far too long, Mr. Shelby."

"I know, you're practically drooling over me." He teased. He seems a lot more himself than before. He’d been too caught up in his head, too focused on getting you off to enjoy the flirting and teasing. John loved how light-hearted he could be with you. Despite the mess you were both in, it was making you laugh or roll your eyes that soothed his mind. Honestly, if it was just sex he'd have cut you off instantly; he wouldn't have even gone there out of loyalty to Ada. Admittedly, it was your company and presence that had him absolutely on his knees for you, the way he felt understood, less alone in his brother's bullshit, less trapped by his criminal career because you understood. You always had a cutting line, a bright smile just for him, an eye roll at his brothers' daft plans, a choice curse word for Thomas. He didn't even want to consider what would happen after the night ended. He stood, pressing another kiss to your lips as he helped you to your feet, fixing his coat which hung off your shoulders.

"You ready for rounds two through to six?"

"John, you know you won't get through three with me."

"You’re right, you're just too pretty when you’re riding my cock." He teased, the vulgar material of his jibe earning him a joking shove before you curl into his side, letting him escort you up the stairs to the nearest bedroom. He quickly shut the door behind you, scooping you up in his arms, causing you to let out a laugh as he practically tossed you onto the king sized bed, eyes shining with adoration as he looked down at you grinning back up at him.

“You’re something else, John Shelby.”