#his ass is way too dangerous to be left alive

[samskelly]

Caleb and Beau, after the 3rd campaign, in court bringing up enough proof so that they can fucking finally get rid of the Cerberus Assembly and throw Ludinus to jail:

#critical role #cr spoilers #campaign 3 #caleb widogast #beauregard lionett #critical role spoilers #cr3 #That is of course if Ludinus is even kicking at the end anymore #i doubt it #his ass is way too dangerous to be left alive

[writeforfandoms]

Fear Not This Night

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Being part of the 141 pack meant you watched out for your boys, always. As their medic, it meant you sometimes flew into danger for them. When someone uses that knowledge against you to separate you from your pack, you pay the price.

Warnings: Blood, treating wounds, medical inaccuracies, shifter biology, shifter dynamics, psychological torture, physical torture, being blinded (hood over head), brief self-harm (pulling feathers). This one is a bit dark so if you would like more in depth warnings, come ask me.

Word count: 7.6k

Harpy eagle f!reader x 141 poly

You soared over the trees, sharp eyes watching for your team. You’d gotten the call that they needed you a few hours prior, so you knew they’d likely moved some from their last coordinates. But you doubted they’d gone far. You weren’t even tired yet, broad wings carrying you and your pack. 

Finally, you spotted Soap, in a convenient space between trees. Good man, making your life easier. You didn’t cry out in recognition, because that was dangerous. But you did dive, tucking your wings close and waiting until the last possible moment to pull up, flapping down to land on your pack. It was specially designed to be sturdy enough for you to land on, fortunately. 

“There ye are,” Soap murmured, grinning at you and reaching out one hand to stroke the top of your head. You blinked at him, chirping. “C’mon. Someone got a lucky hit on Ghost.”

You hopped off your medic pack, hopping a few steps away before you shifted. “How bad?” you asked, opening up your pack and throwing on clothes. For the chill more than for modesty. 

You had no modesty around your boys anymore. 

“Price wants ye to check, because Ghost is bein’ an ass.” 

“I heard that,” came the grumpy growl from Ghost. 

You rolled your eyes and picked up your pack, which looked more like a picnic basket when you carried it this way. “If you’re alive enough to growl, you’re alive enough to behave,” you pointed out. He still had his mask on, but he wasn’t arguing lying down, either. Hmm. Must be feeling worse than you thought. 

You settled on your knees next to Ghost, giving him a quick once-over. Bandages had been packed down against his thigh, though you ignored them for the moment. Nothing else looked out of place. 

“Anywhere hurting besides the thigh?” 

“Took a round to the vest,” he admitted, a little reluctant and a lot grumpy. Probably mostly grumpy that he got hit. 

“Just bruised,” Gaz said as he crouched a little to the side of you and behind you, out of the way but ready to assist. “Didn’t even crack a rib.” 

“Lucky bastard,” you agreed, shifting your attention down to his thigh. “And this?” 

“A graze,” Gaz said. “But it bled a lot, more than normal.”

You hummed acknowledgement, leaning closer. Ghost shifted, and you cooed softly, almost reflexively. He huffed but settled. 

The wound wasn’t bad under the bandages, but it was in a tricky spot, just above his knee. You couldn’t see any real reason why it would have bled more than normal except use, which was kind of inevitable. But even so, just to be on the safe side, you smeared it with ointment and rewrapped it. 

“How far do you have to go?” You packed up the rest of your supplies after forcing Ghost to drink more water. 

“Little ways yet.” Price shrugged, planting his hands on his hips. 

“I’m fine to keep going,” Ghost said, because of course he did.

“You finish your water,” you said, poking his hip. “Then we’ll see.” 

He huffed, eyes narrowing at you. But he subsided. Mostly because you both knew Price would side with you. 

“If you left now?” You raised one eyebrow at Price.

“We’d make it by dawn.” 

You puffed out a breath. That was not too bad. Ghost was tough, you knew he could last that long, especially since he’d already been forced to rest (and probably to eat something, knowing the rest of the pack). “I’ll scout ahead,” you said, pushing up to your feet. “Circle back and follow behind, make sure you’re fine.” 

“I’ve got your pack,” Gaz offered before you could say anything more. You rolled your eyes at him but didn’t protest. You knew better. 

You also knew better than to shift again without eating something, so you ripped open a protein bar and ate it as fast as possible under Price’s approving eye. Tossing your clothes back at Gaz and grinning at his playful huff, you shifted back and took off again. 

The route forward to their exfil point was clear and quiet, even to your keen gaze. Turning to circle back, you made sure to check back in on your guys as you flew above them. 

No enemies behind, either. They’d done a good job of either killing everyone who’d tried to follow, or losing them. You expected nothing less from them. 

Pleased, you made a few big circles just to be sure. Still nothing. No sign of enemies. You took your time following your pack to the exfil point. 

True to Price’s prediction, just as the sun broke the horizon the pack made it to exfil. You dove down to join them, landing next to Ghost. Gaz tossed your clothes to you as soon as you shifted, and Ghost shoved water at you.

“You all are mother hens, y’know that?” you grumbled without any heat, grinning, even as you double-checked Gaz’s straps. 

“Says the biggest hen of us,” Soap pointed out with a wicked grin.

“Now now, just because my tits are the best–” you started playfully. 

“Enough,” Price interrupted, sitting on Gaz’s other side, between him and the opening. Smart man. 

You and Soap subsided, though you did both roll your eyes. “Everybody good?” You looked around at them, meeting each gaze squarely for a moment, to make sure none of them were lying. They all tolerated it, well used to you by now. Satisfied that none of your guys were about to keel over, you settled back for the trip back. 

Flying in a heli had never been your favorite thing to do. You much preferred to fly on your own. But you had to admit that the heli was faster - you’d tried once to keep up, and couldn’t. Which wasn’t actually surprising, just disappointing. 

This flight was not bad. Not too long. Which was good, because you were getting antsy. Ghost had caught a nap on the heli, but you still wanted to make sure he was fine in better conditions than you’d had before. 

As soon as the heli landed, you were out, watching Ghost carefully. He wouldn’t accept help, not in front of others, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t check in. 

“‘M fine,” he grumbled at you very quietly as you fell into step next to him. 

“I’m sure you are,” you agreed. “And I’ll be more sure after I get to look you over.”

Soap leaned closer, waggling his eyebrows. But he didn’t say anything, because he couldn’t. Not here. Not where people could overhear and get the wrong idea. 

Simon was fine, as it turned out when you finally got him to medical. Heightened metabolisms were good for some things, after all, and that included faster healing. 

But you still bullied all your guys into the nest to take a nap. 

“Stop fussing,” Price grumbled, lifting his head to pin you with a look. “And get in here.”

“It is literally my job to fuss,” you grumbled right back, although you did stop messing with the pillows and observed the nest. There was a good spot next to Simon. You carefully stepped over Gaz and Price before you settled down with a soft chirp, nestled between Simon and Price. There. That was better. 

Price’s soft huff made you grin to yourself. At least until Simon tucked you under his arm and started scratching your scalp. Then you relaxed into him.

Okay. Maybe you could take a nap too. 

One good thing about having pack-only spaces was that you could be with your guys without fear. 

Simon had been ordered to stay and rest and finish healing while the other three went on what was supposed to be a quick mission. A day or two all told, is how Price had phrased it. You didn't know the details, didn't need to know the details, but you did know that Simon hated this. 

"Relax," you murmured to him soothingly, scratching your fingers against his scalp. "They'll be back soon." 

He grumbled wordlessly, one hand curling against your thigh where he was also using it as a pillow. 

"Easy, Simon," you murmured, low and soothing. The little bit of grooming helped both of you, you knew. And it was almost all you could do for the moment. 

Until you got called to help with exfil. 

You hated leaving Simon, knew he'd be all but climbing the walls in his anxiety, but… needs must. He understood. 

This time you went without your med pack - supplies would be available after exfil. 

You weren't even sure Price had called for you. But the order came from higher up, so off you went to go help. 

From high in the air, the battlefield looked bad. You could see bodies still laying where they'd fallen, a visual indication of the path of retreat. It took a little time to find your guys, the three of them huddled together behind a half-burned building. There were no immediate threats, but you could see where enemies had set up to hinder them. 

It was not an easy situation, nor an easy fix. You flapped your wings a few times, changing your trajectory. 

You needed to give them a distraction, a chance to get out. Most people didn't look up - you could use that, get a good sneak attack or two in. Cause a little chaos in the line. 

It would do for now, until you came up with a better plan. 

You flew a little higher, using the angle of the sun to help disguise your descent. And then you dove, aiming for one soldier a little apart from the others. He never saw you coming. 

But he screamed as your talons ripped through the vulnerable skin of his scalp and neck. 

You flapped hard, leaving him to bleed out even as shouts started up around you. You managed to vanish into the sun, flying up high again. You'd be harder to hit that way. 

Of course, now they were on alert. Damn. That hadn't quite been enough of a distraction for your guys to get away. 

You needed something bigger. 

Scanning the ground, you looked for something out of the way to pick up and drop on the enemy line. 

It was a good plan, and it even worked. 

Until you were flying away. Someone must have been watching, because there was a sharp pain in your wing, enough to make you screech. Your wing faltered and you fell, just able to slow yourself enough that you didn't injure yourself further. 

You hit the ground in a flurry of blood and feathers and screeching. Your wing hurt, leaving you unable to fly. 

Behind enemy lines. 

The first man to lunge at you got your beak to his throat, blood hot as it splashed across your face and chest. Maybe you'd have time to get to safety, maybe you could shift and–

Something heavy fell over your head, completely blocking your vision. You screeched, loud and angry, but more heavy things landed on top of you. Something held your wings firmly down against your sides, the pain sharp enough to make you try to jerk away. But you couldn't, too many hands grabbing you and securing you. 

Blind and trapped, you could only feel as you were picked up and moved. 

But you weren't dead yet, which was terrifying. 

People handed you off between them, and you tried to flap your wings or flex your claws or anything. But movement of any kind resulted in you being squeezed to the point of pain. 

With no way to see where you were or how many of them there were, you gave up. Conserved your strength, so you'd have a better chance of escape once you could see again. 

An engine rumbled to life, and you got squished in against a body. 

"Try anything funny and I will break your wing," a man hissed to you in heavily-accented English. You didn't doubt that he, or someone, would. 

So you behaved, because you wouldn't be able to escape if you had a broken wing. You listened to the occasional chatter in Arabic. You tried very hard not to panic. 

Sooner than you expected, the car stopped and you were once again handed off. The thing never came off your head, never let you see anything. 

But you could hear more people, orders shouted in Arabic, more movement. 

Oh this was bad. 

Someone carried you somewhere cooler. More movement around you, and for a brief moment you could see as the heavy thing over your head was yanked off - you could see two men in front of you, one of them grinning to show off two empty spaces where teeth should be. 

Then darkness again as a hood was secured over your head. You'd never been put in a falconry hood, but you knew immediately that's what it was, just from the feel of the leather and ties around your head. You screeched, trying to flap your wings. 

"Enough of that," a sharp voice scolded. You nearly startled to realize it sounded like a woman. There was another flurry of Arabic, orders it sounded like, and then hands grasped your right wing, the one with the bullet hole. Big hands held you in place, wing extended, other wing pinned to your side. 

You had no idea what they were doing until you heard the snip, snip, snip. You screeched, enraged and despairing and agonized. But they didn't stop, and there was nothing you could do. 

"There." The woman sounded far too smug, too pleased. "Now you can be my bird." She laughed, low and throaty and sadistic. 

You shivered, tucking your wings in as tight as you could, shifting restlessly from foot to foot. Bells jingled as you moved and you froze in horror.

Hood and jesses. They were treating you like a falconry bird. 

If you could, you might have thrown up. As it was, you made a tiny distressed noise. 

A door shut somewhere nearby, leaving you with the terrible feeling that you were alone. 

You tried to pace off the room, but the fucking bells kept breaking your concentration. You could stretch your wings, at least, though the right one hurt. And the way the air moved around your wing was… wrong. 

That was all the confirmation you needed, even as you pulled your wings in tight again and huddled in place, shivering. They’d clipped your primaries. 

Even if the hood was gone, you wouldn’t be able to fly. 

You had no idea how long you stood there, alone in the forced darkness. Time was meaningless as you mentally went in circles. Simon knew you’d gone. There was a chance the other three had seen you or heard the commotion. People knew you were gone. 

Someone would come for you.

Or you’d be killed first. 

But you didn’t want to die, your pack needed you, you couldn’t leave them, they’d never forgive themselves if you died here–

The door opened hard enough that it slammed into the wall, and you jumped, wings flaring in agitation. 

“There’s my pretty bird,” the woman from before cooed, over-sweet and mocking. “Hungry yet?” Her steps were deliberately loud as she approached you. You stiffened, holding yourself tense, but didn’t move. “Now, are you going to cooperate? Be a good bird?” 

You didn’t reply, but you figured that lack of fighting would be a response. Because you had no idea where you were, and you held almost no power here. You knew that if you got too uppity, they’d make your life worse. Probably not kill you - they’d had plenty of opportunity to do that, and hadn’t yet. 

But you could think of plenty of things they could do to make things worse for you.

The hood was pulled off your head, and you blinked rapidly as you adjusted to the light. The room had no windows and only one door. The artificial light washed everything yellow. 

And, most importantly, left you no way to know how long it had been, how long you’d been gone. 

The woman in front of you wore khaki and brown, simple clothes that were more functional than fashionable. Brown eyes held yours, a smirk slowly stretching her lips when you refused to look away first. But she didn’t seem to care about a dominance game. She just stepped further into the room, setting down two bowls for you. 

Like you were a pet. 

Your stomach turned and you stayed very still, head tipped, watching her closely. 

“Well? Go on. Eat while you can.” Her grin had stretched into a cruel thing, showing too many teeth. 

You shuffle-hopped forward, the bells on the jesses setting off every nerve you had. You hated this. Hated her. But this wouldn’t be forever, you knew it wouldn’t. You needed to eat, needed the fuel to heal and save up for your escape (as soon as you had a decent plan). 

So, much as it grated on you, you ate from the bowl, keeping your gaze on her as much as you could. It felt demeaning, dehumanizing. 

You felt like some exotic pet. The feeling made your blood boil, made you seethe. But you were careful to do so very quietly, only to yourself. 

“Good bird,” she cooed mockingly. “We shall see how long it takes to train you.” 

Before you could do more than flare your wings in protest, the hood was shoved back on your head, plunging you into darkness once more. You flapped your wings twice, momentarily off-balance. 

The door shut. A lock clicked.

And you were alone again, in darkness and silence. 

It was impossible to track how much time had passed. You could hear only occasional muffled sounds beyond your room, had no way to mark the passage of time. 

The only breaks from the darkness were for food, always far enough apart that you were hungry, always the woman and one underling. Always demeaning. Always difficult. 

You suffered through five meals. Five meals. Each one worse than the last, with more taunting, more mocking. It was harder every time to not just leap at her and rip into her. 

But you remained patient, somehow. 

The muffled sound of gunfire drew your attention, and you moved back and forth restlessly. It was hard not to get your hopes up, after however many days of being stuck here. 

When the gunfire got louder and you heard the muffled shouts outside your door, satisfaction surged. That was probably your pack, coming for you.

And if it wasn’t, well… There was more than one way out of here. 

You waited for a lull in the fighting, in the shouting and gunshots and chaos. And then you screeched, as loud as you could. 

There. If that was your pack, they’d know it was you. If it was anybody else… You’d deal with that when you could. 

The fighting and gunfire got closer, and you backed up slowly, carefully. The jingling of the fucking jesses still grated, but it was easier to ignore with the fighting outside. 

There were two shots outside, two thuds. Your heart beat faster and you half-spread your wings, talons clicking against the floor. 

“Found her,” came Soap’s voice from the door, and the breath whooshed out of you all at once. “Fuck,” he ground out, as angry as you’d ever heard him. “Okay, ‘s just me, sweets. Ah’m gonna take this off, yeah?” Hands fumbled with the hood for a moment before it was gone, leaving you blinking and near-blinded by the sudden brightness. 

And there was Soap, clothes a little bloodied, expression torn between rage and sympathy. He spared a moment to smooth a hand over your head. 

“Can ye shift?” 

You clicked your beak and awkwardly held out one leg, jingling the jess still attached. 

His expression immediately darkened. “Ah’ll burn the whole place,” he swore, rapidly removing one jess, then the other. 

Relieved, you immediately shifted back. Your arm ached where the bullet hole had mostly healed, and you knew you probably looked a wreck. You felt a wreck, a little shaky and unsteady. But you were also determined to get the hell out. 

“Give me a gun,” you rasped, throat dry. 

“Ah donnae have supplies for ye,” Soap murmured apologetically, even as he unclipped his handgun and handed it to you. “Keep close.” 

You nodded silently, pushing down everything else. You’d deal with everything else later. 

Warm wetness on your feet made you look down as you followed Soap out of the room that had been your prison for however long. Two guards, both dead. Clean shots. Blood had pooled in the hallway. Your upper lip curled and you stepped carefully through the hall, not wanting to slip on anything. 

Soap motioned you to wait as you came up to a corner, and he peeked around first. A gunshot had him jerking back. 

“Counted eight,” he murmured to you. “Wait here.”

“But–” Your shoulders raised, and if you’d had feathers they would have been floofing out.

“Ye have no vest, no protection,” Soap pointed out, soft but firm. “Jus’ got ye back, sweets. Donnae ask me this.” 

And you deflated again. As much as you wanted to kill every bastard in the building yourself, he had a good point. “Okay,” you agreed quietly, grip tightening briefly on your gun. “I’ll wait.”

Soap pressed a quick, hard kiss to your temple before he was gone, picking off one before he even rounded the corner. You could do nothing but listen to the chaos and wait for the all clear to move up.

A scuff behind you had you whirling, gun up. The woman stood no more than ten paces away, teeth bared, a gun in her hand. 

“Well well, is this what pretty birdie looks like when she’s not a birdie?” She laughed, the sound unhinged, divorced from reality. “What a waste.” 

“Don’t move.” Your voice didn’t shake. Your hands didn’t shake. But your mind… your mind quailed. 

“What’s the matter, birdie? Missing your hood?” Her teeth were bloody, eyes fixed on you as she took a step closer. 

You swallowed hard, breath coming faster. If you never saw a hood again it would be too soon. 

“We can fix that.” She took another step forward, lifting the gun slowly, as if it was much heavier than it actually was. 

You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t blink. You shot her, center mass. 

She fell. 

“Sweets?” Soap sounded only a little panicky. 

“Clear!” You swallowed. Then again. You were a medic, yes, but this was far from the first time you’d killed. You’d hoped this would bring a little peace.

Instead you were simply numb.

“Move up!” Soap called after another minute. You obeyed wordlessly, turning your back on the corpse without another thought. 

“How far?” you asked softly, stopping behind him, letting him be your shield again. 

“Not much farther.” He glanced back at you, worried. “Ye alright?” 

“Fine.” Your answer was short, clipped. Because you couldn’t think about being anything other than fine. “Let’s go.” 

Soap hesitated a moment longer, gaze searching your face, before he nodded once, slowly. Then he moved, keeping you behind him. You kept close to him, moving as quietly as possible, ignoring the tackiness of blood drying on your skin. 

He had you wait as he cleared one more room, and then the two of you met up with Gaz. Gaz breathed in sharply when he saw you but was quick to tug you to him in a hard hug, the edges of his vest and gear blunt and uncomfortable against your skin. You didn’t care, returning the hug with an edge of desperation. 

“Here,” Gaz murmured, pulling spare clothes from one of his pouches. “Couldn’t bring extra gear for you, but this’ll do for now.” 

You nodded, pulling the clothes on silently. They didn’t actually help you feel any better, but being with two of your pack did. 

“Price and Ghost are almost done,” Gaz told Soap, tucking you between the two so you were protected. “Ready to meet up?”

“Ready.” Soap grinned, brief and vicious. “Ye’ll like this,” he promised you, taking the lead. You followed him, Gaz on your six. The building was quiet now, tension thrumming under your skin. But you kept up, swallowing back your nerves as best you could. 

“All set up?” Soap asked as he stepped into a room. You followed, a little more cautious. 

“All set,” Price agreed, eyes immediately finding you. A bit of tension leaked from his shoulders and he smiled, just a little. “Ready to get out of here?” 

You nodded silently, but didn’t say anything. Which didn’t matter, because Ghost was in front of you in a few long strides, one hand gently cupping your cheek to tip your head. 

“Injuries?” he asked softly, gaze sweeping over you.

“Just my arm.” And your feathers, but you couldn’t think about that for longer than a moment or you’d start screaming. 

Ghost nodded, pulling you into his side. 

“Let’s go,” Price ordered, taking point. The others kept you in the middle between them all the way out. 

At a safe distance, the group of you turned. Soap waggled his eyebrows at you, grinning, before he pushed down on a detonator. 

The entire building collapsed, shaking apart as explosions ripped through it. It was incredibly cathartic to see. Or, well. It probably was. You were… kind of numb. 

“Here.” 

You blinked slowly to find Price holding out a water to you. Your hands trembled as you took it, drinking slowly under the watchful gaze of your pack. 

“It’s not far to exfil,” Gaz murmured, one hand resting on your shoulder. You leaned into the touch, breath momentarily hitching. 

“Okay.” You swallowed hard and took the protein bar Price handed over, eating mechanically. You could barely taste it. 

You knew this was bad, but. Not much to be done about it yet. 

“You alright to walk the rest of the way?” Price asked, glancing down at your feet. 

You blinked. You… couldn’t actually feel any discomfort from your feet, though you knew you should. You were standing barefoot on the ground, and it wasn’t even flat ground. “I’m fine.” 

Price eyed you for a moment before he nodded. “Let’s get out of here, then,” he murmured. Contrary to his own words, he leaned in until he could press his forehead to yours, taking a moment to just breathe. Then he pulled back, once again taking point. 

You followed, a little slow but moving under your own power. At least you weren’t in pain. 

Yet. 

The heli was waiting for you when you arrived. You shivered briefly against the wind and hurried in, buckling in with shaking hands. Soap dropped down on one side of you, Gaz on your other side. They both double checked your harness. 

The flight back didn’t seem to take any time. You sat upright, tired and numb and cold, but unable to show any of that. You would eventually, you knew. You should probably warn your guys, you knew.

But you couldn’t. 

The heli set down with a bump and you jolted. Two pairs of hands steadied you, Gaz and Soap both looking at you with concern. 

But nobody said anything as they escorted you to medical. 

You answered anything directly asked of you, quiet and stiff. The bullet hole in your arm was deemed mostly healed (it should have been more healed, really, but you hadn’t eaten enough), and otherwise you were dehydrated and bruised, but mostly unharmed. 

The problem arose when one of the medics asked you to shift. 

“No.” The word was only a whisper but you leaned away, hands curling into fists, muscles pulling taut. 

The medic paused, eyeing you carefully. You were known to be more easy-going and cooperative, so this? Was unusual. “If you need privacy–”

“No.” It came out a little stronger this time, even as your gaze darted to the door, heart racing. No. Absolutely not. 

The medic slowly leaned back, away from you. But their voice was calm as they called, “Captain?” 

Price was in front of you a moment later, taking in your posture in a quick glance. He put one heavy hand on your shoulder, ducking his head to look you in the eyes for a moment. “Easy,” he murmured, frowning a little. “You done here?” He glanced back over his shoulder at the medic. 

“She hasn’t shifted yet, so we’re not technically done,” the medic explained. 

Price glanced down at you, and you shook your head, jaw clenched so tight your teeth ached. “Another time,” Price grunted, gently tugging you off the exam table. 

The medic sighed, exasperated but unwilling to fight. “Fine. Make sure she sleeps,” they ordered, moving out of the way. “And eats.”

Price nodded, letting his hand fall from your shoulder. You tried not to focus on that, tried to focus on following him instead. But it was hard. The touch had been grounding, helpful. Helping to pull you back into yourself. 

“You should get cleaned up,” Price murmured, heading back towards your quarters. “It’ll help.”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t manage more than that, couldn’t force more out. The numbness was slowly fading, leaving you aching. And tired. So very tired. 

Price paused outside your door, studying you. “Do you want someone here?” 

You swallowed and forced yourself to nod. You didn’t want to be alone. But you didn’t want anyone looking at you just yet, either. 

Price nodded slowly, brow furrowing a little. “I’ll stay,” he rumbled, pushing your door open and ushering you through first. “Get cleaned up, dress down for the evening.” 

You nodded wordlessly, slipping past him and grabbing comfortable clothes. You had a bathroom to yourself, something you were extremely grateful for, and you shut the door between yourself and your alpha. And then immediately opened it a crack, because you felt too trapped otherwise. 

Hot water felt heavenly, after everything. Getting to scrub your head felt heavenly. Everything else… Well. You definitely overdid it washing yourself, scratching your skin nearly raw in places. You did make yourself bleed again, accidentally breaking open the wound in your arm. 

But you finally felt clean enough for the moment and emerged, drying off and wrapping your head in a towel. That would do. 

Price was still sitting on your bed when you emerged, phone in hand, though he turned his gaze to you as soon as the door opened. His gaze lingered on your skin, and you knew he was making note of everything. But he didn’t comment. 

“Figured we’d go to the pack room,” he said, carefully phrasing it as an option, rather than an order. “Got Gaz and Soap bringing food.”

You nodded. “Food sounds good,” you admitted, walking over to him. You didn’t ask, just plastered yourself to his front, cheek pressed to his chest, inhaling the comforting scent of your alpha. Price hummed softly, one hand cupping the back of your head, his other settling on your back. 

“Take as long as you need,” he murmured, low and soothing. “We’ll walk together, hm?” 

“Yeah.” You closed your eyes, relaxing into his warmth. Just a minute. You just needed a minute. Price only held you tighter. 

You finally pulled back with one last deep breath. “Okay,” you croaked. “Let’s go.” 

Price didn’t object, but he did keep you close as the two of you walked to the pack room. Almost nobody was around, which worked out well, because you were starting to use your captain for help staying upright. 

No sooner had you stepped into the pack room than you got swarmed. Somehow, you weren’t exactly sure how, they settled you on the couch pressed up against Simon, with Gaz and Soap chattering as they made up plates of food, and Price hovering behind you and Simon. 

“Don’t ask,” you murmured to Simon, fairly sure Price could hear too. “Not yet.”

Simon hummed softly, carefully bundling you even closer to his side. “Not yet,” he agreed, about as soft as he ever got. 

Gaz and Soap carried the conversation through dinner, both of them settling around you as well until you were entirely enclosed by pack. It should have made you feel better.

It didn’t. 

All you could think of were the past eight days. Eight, you discovered when Soap let it slip. Eight days you’d been stuck in that hood and silence but for the jesses, treated like an animal.

It was almost enough to make you sick. 

You swallowed down what you could, but ended up leaving food. It was odd - you would have thought you’d be ravenous, after the last days. But you weren’t. You were barely hungry, only ate to try to stave off their concern. 

Which didn’t entirely work, from the quick looks and little touches you endured through the evening. 

And then you just… settled. Let one of them take your plate when it was obvious you weren’t going to eat more, and relaxed. Simon stayed on one side of you, refusing to move. You leaned more and more into him as your eyes tried to shut, until he simply pulled you in to use his chest as a pillow. You murmured something, half complaint half thanks, and closed your eyes, the soothing sounds of your pack settling around you. 

You woke to total darkness.

For a moment you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. If you moved you’d hear those damn bells, and there was no point because you couldn’t get anywhere, you were trapped, and your wings– your wings–

“Hey, hey, s’alright love,” Simon murmured urgently, hands patting at you. Which was when you realized you were keening, breath hitching in your chest. You still couldn’t see but you could feel your pack moving around you.

“Get the lights,” Price ordered. “Simon?” 

“Not sure.” Simon put one hand over your chest. “You need to breathe.” It wasn’t until he put your hand against his chest, letting you feel the exaggerated inflation of his lungs that you realized he was talking to you.

The lights flipped on, bright and sudden, and you went limp. You were fine. You were in the pack room. You didn’t have a hood on. 

“Love?” Simon leaned closer to you, eyes dark and worried. 

“‘M okay,” you gasped, blinking a few times, finally settling back into reality. “Just. A minute.” 

Simon didn’t move, just breathing in again. You did your best to follow along, nerves still strung taut from waking the way you did. Soap pressed up close to your side, his head resting near your hip. Your fingers curled gently in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp to help calm yourself. Based on his pleased hum, that’s what he’d wanted in the first place. 

“Better?” Price moved carefully closer, doing a quick visual check.

“Yeah.” You licked your lips, very aware of your dry throat now. “Just.” You clenched your jaw. Admitting weakness was never easy, and this was no different. “Couldn’t see.” 

Soap lifted his head to look at you. “Sweets,” he started, carefully, like he was feeling for land mines. “Did they keep the hood on ye?” 

You swallowed hard. “Except for when they brought me food.” 

“Hood?” Gaz asked, handing over a bottle of water to you, expression mostly blank. 

“And jesses,” you confirmed before taking a deep drink of water. 

“We’ll make sure there’s a light on for you,” Price said, before anyone else could say anything. Which was honestly for the best - you didn’t think you could talk any more about what had happened just yet. 

“You should go back to sleep,” you murmured, setting the water bottle down and scratching Soap’s scalp again. “Too early to be up.” 

“Hm.” Price tipped his head, looking at you. Then he huffed softly. “Stubborn.” 

You only had time to blink before he was settling back in with the rest of you, getting comfortable. The nest was big enough for all of you, because you’d made sure of that, but still. 

You didn’t think anyone would manage to get back to sleep, especially with the light on. But they surprised you - Gaz snored gently against Price’s ribs, while Soap used your hip as a pillow. (He always made the oddest choices.) Price didn’t sleep, but he did close his eyes and relax. 

Simon just kept you close, his steady breathing helping your own. 

Your pack didn’t quite hover the next few days. They did, however, take rotating shifts making sure someone stayed with you. Simon nudged you into the pack room every night. Gaz had pulled up a nightlight from somewhere, the soft yellow light always left on now. They didn’t let you feel ashamed of it, either, though shame still tried to wiggle into your brain. 

Things weren’t okay. Wouldn’t be okay for a while. But they were getting better. 

Except for your wings. 

You managed not to think about it most of the time, focused on staying human and getting through the worst of the aftereffects. Sure, it wasn’t conventional torture, but it was almost worse. 

Things finally came to a head when the rest of the pack shifted, Gaz and Soap racing outside immediately, growling playfully at each other. Ghost followed, more placid, looking at you once over his shoulder. 

Price stopped in front of you, the bear easily able to meet your gaze. You knew that if he stood up straight on his hind legs, he’d be much taller than you. 

“No.” Your smile was small and tight, pained. “You go. I’m not shifting.” 

His head tipped, fuzzy little ears flickering back towards the open door and back to you. He grunted softly and nosed your ribs gently. 

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll come out for a bit.” 

Satisfied, he huffed and went first, lumbering out the door. You followed him, briefly squinting against the light before you adjusted. 

Gaz and Soap raced across the open space, occasionally trying to trip each other or jump over each other. Soap even got bold enough to bite Ghost’s tail and run for it, angry cat hot on his tail and gaining fast. Price found a nice sunny spot to watch and make sure they didn’t actually go overboard. 

Pretty normal. Except for you. You stood stiff and still, watching them and making no effort to join. It was… too much. It wasn’t their fault, or yours. The only people responsible were dead. 

None of them looked when you slipped back inside, as quietly as you could. You had one more thing you needed to do, and you needed some privacy to do it. 

Your room was far enough from them that you didn’t worry about being found immediately. You carefully took off your clothes, folding them on your bed. One deep breath. Two. 

You could do this. Hell, you’d been doing this since you were a child. Nothing would stop you now.

You shifted between breaths, braced for… something. But nothing happened. You didn’t immediately panic.

Okay. So far so good. 

You spread your wings carefully, flapping them a few times. You could just see your reflection in the mirror. Your beak was just as sharp, your crest still upright. Bits of downy feathers stuck up from a lack of preening, but you ignored the vague feeling of wrongness. You had something more important to fix. 

Your primaries had all been cut on your right wing. Not just some of them. All of them. It would take months for them to molt on their own. Months of being grounded, being flightless, being useless. 

The soft, mournful sound ripped free from your throat, and you flapped again. You could hop, maybe get a bit of air. But you couldn’t fly, not like this.

Unless…

No. No, that was a terrible idea.

Except that it wasn’t, really, a terrible idea. The longer you stood there, head tipped, staring at your clipped feathers in the mirror, the more sense it made. 

One last deep breath in and you dipped your head, tipping your wing to make it easier. It took a little shuffling and a little preening to get the right feather in your beak. 

The first one came out cleanly, a few drips of blood accompanying it. You dropped the shaft to the floor, not giving yourself time to really feel the pain. You just did it again. And again. And again. 

Until the floor was littered with blood and snipped feathers, the red stark on the black and white banded feathers. Your wing burned and ached, throbbing in time with your heart, and your chest heaved with your panting, beak open. You felt almost dizzy with it, mind gone blank. 

“Sweets?” The panicked yell made you blink and cheep softly, though you didn’t move yet. Your door was unlocked. “Sweets, I smell blood.” Gaz hit the door a moment later, nearly tumbling inside when the door opened easily. He froze when he spotted you, anguish twisting his features. “Oh, Sweets, what did you do?” 

You chirped at him, turning carefully, keeping your right wing flared. 

Gaz knelt in front of you, ducking down to examine where you’d pulled out your feathers. “Doesn’t look like you’re still bleeding,” he murmured, almost absently preening your feathers. “But why–?” 

You chirped at him and picked up one of the feathers by the shaft, showing him the cut end. 

“Cut?” He frowned, gaze darting between you and the small pile of feathers, before realization hit. He swallowed hard, rage like a dark thundercloud. “But why pull them?”

You chirped softly, dropping the feather and hopping closer to him. You were not designed for flat floors, dammit, you were designed for trees! 

“Do you wanna shift?” Gaz asked, frowning a little at you.

You shook yourself. Now that you’d shifted, you actually felt a little better. Still kind of awful, because you couldn’t fly, but you didn’t feel quite as raw. 

He huffed. “Course not,” he agreed with a wry smile. “Can I help you preen?” 

You chirped softly again, ducking your head under his hand. He took it as permission, which it was, and began combing through your feathers gently. 

“Gonna have to talk to one of us eventually,” he murmured, hands gentle over your injured wing. “Can’t put it off forever.”

You clicked your beak at him and stretched, gently preening his hair. He huffed but allowed it, muttering something about you being a menace. 

Gaz ended up letting you perch on his arm as he walked back to the pack room. Price huffed at your wing, gently pulling it to get a better look. 

“Did you do this or did they?” His voice was calm, but you knew your alpha. He was not calm. 

You chirped softly, looking to Gaz to answer for you.

“She pulled ‘em, but they were clipped.” 

“Ah.” Price blew out a breath, fingers gentle as he checked your secondaries. “Force ‘em to come in sooner?”

You chirped a soft affirmative. 

“Gonna need to eat more, then.” The look he gave you told you this was not an argument you would win. So you didn’t fight. 

You let them take care of you and fuss (not too much), and you just worked on being better. 

It took time, but the worst of the nightmares faded. Pitch black still bothered you but it was manageable, rather than panic attack inducing every time. 

Things got better. 

Your feathers still hadn’t come in yet, but you could be patient a little while longer. You could feel the itch where they were forming and growing. Good enough. 

Your first op was supposed to be an easy one. Well. As easy as anything the 141 took on. 

You, Price, and Gaz were clearing one building while Soap and Ghost cleared another. It was… not easy, but routine. 

Until you stumbled over one man Gaz missed. 

The man was in the back of the room, laying low. You probably wouldn’t have spotted him except a bit of light fell right on a very familiar feather. The black and white banding could, hypothetically, have been from any number of birds. 

But you knew. 

An angry snarl twisted your lips, and you stepped intentionally into the room, barely remembering to call to Price over your shoulder, gaze locked on your target. Your gun was steady on him. 

He watched you right back, one hand reaching for a weapon from a fallen comrade in a way he probably thought was stealthy. 

The bullet you planted between him and the weapon disabused him of that notion. 

“Where did you get that feather?” you asked, voice low and growly. If you weren’t so focused, it would have startled you to hear how furious you sounded. 

He looked up at you and grinned, front two teeth missing. You jerked back, body recalling more vividly than your mind the sudden darkness that had followed that grin. 

“Easy,” Price murmured from behind you, just to the side. Close enough to support you and take the shot if you needed, but giving you space to do it yourself. 

You breathed in deep. And shot him. For many reasons, including not leaving an enemy alive at your back. 

But bending down to pull your feather from his shirt was just for you. 

“You broken?” Price watched you, giving you space still. Letting you decide.

You tucked the feather in your vest and smiled. “Not today.” You nudged him, tipping your head to rest against his shoulder for just a moment, before you started walking again. “If we finish up before Soap, he promised he’d buy cookies.” 

Price’s chuckle followed you out of the room. Gaz called over comms that the building was clear, and Soap started swearing. He and Gaz went back and forth on the matter of the cookies, easy bickering in the middle of everything else. 

You just laughed, knowing your pack had you. Always. 

#shifter au #f!reader #reader x 141 #john price x reader #simon “ghost” riley x reader #kyle “gaz” garrick x reader #johnny “soap” mactavish x reader

[sugarlywhispers]

the fall | b.katsuki - prohero!reader goes undercover

☆– warnings; heart breaking ANGST, a bit of comfort, not a happy ending or well, it is, just not the one you expect, vulnerable!Bakugou Katsuki.

☆– a.n; i don’t know how many times i have deleted, rewritten, deleted again and rewritten again this piece lmao i consider it a win the fact that i just finished it xD also, i don't know if this will have a continuation… thou there’s a high chance that it does because i loved the way it ended lol enjoy <3

If Bakugou Katsuki could be properly honest he would openly admit that being a Pro Hero sucked , approximately eight times out of ten. Mostly it wasn't for the times injuries went worse than expected or felt worse as time progressed and the getting old finally settled in the bones. If he could be entirely open about it, the worst part was when a hero had to take undercover work.

Bakugou hates it. He hates it so much, he could quit. And that was a realization that unsettled him, because this was what he had dreamt about since he was a shitty brat kid: kick shitty villains asses from left to right.

But he got to actually accept and admit this particular annoying, and again, shitty fact, his resentment about that specific part of the job, when it was your turn. When you had to go undercover, and so deep into it, that it had been two years… two fucking years, since he got any news about you.

How fucking dared you. He was–is your best friend, right? Then why not send him even a simple 'I'm okay, still alive' message. Not even a quick phone call where he could at least hear your breathing; he would know it's you, because he knew everything about you. Well–not everything as he would like to. But he was your friend, you had confided in him plenty of times, you had been his partner since you were a little brat from UA doing your internship and he was the newbie Hero in charge of you. You have been through good and shit together. Was it too difficult to just let him know you were fine, fucking alive? Were your new surroundings too dangerous for you to not give any signs of life to any of your friends? If it was dangerous, why the fuck haven't him, or Red Riot or even shitty Deku, been sent to help you?!

Bakugou took another deep breath, face laying over the stinky bar table, hand holding a glass of something he couldn't fucking remember Ejirou said it was. Probably a shot of tequila with lemonade, given the strong flavor in his mouth. Fuck, he wished it was something way more stronger, like firewisky or some shit like that.

"Mina was right. You do look like trash," shitty hair smiled, knowingly and even mockingly at him, which infuriated Katsuki more.

"Shut up, ass." He wasn't drunk, but he wished he was. Katsuki couldn't get drunk because he had patrols to run that same night, he was not an irresponsible asshole, no matter what and no matter who.

But he did wish he could drink himself to sleep. He hadn't been sleeping quite well lately– or more like over two fucking years. Katsuki sighs. He knows he is exaggerating. He knows you. You don't need him to worry about you, you can definitely take care of yourself and he has witnessed how capable you are of it plenty of times already. Damn, you once even kicked his ass for being a jerk– he won't admit it, but that was the day he actually started seeing you more than just a friend. Coincidentally, it was three days before you had to go undercover. What a bitch of luck.

"Todoroki said they were going to scout some of us to go look after her," that brought Bakugou's attention back, sitting up straight and looking directly at his best friend's serious expression on his face.

"I'm in."

Kirishima sighs, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Fuck you. I'm going..." Katsuki begins his protest but Ejirou doesn't let him continue.

"Katsuki!" Both friends look at each other's eyes for a moment without saying anything. Until Kirishima confirms out loud, "You love her."

The blond stays silent, not admitting or denying it, looking at his best friend's eyes that turned completely professional and determining.

"I will go." He presses firmly and with no room open for discussion, which makes Kirishima sigh.

The red head looks down at the glass he is holding with his drink, a cocktail that had a bit of ron and orange juice, as he plays for a moment with his fingers around it. He takes a sip of it, and after he puts the glass back on the table, he looks back at Katsuki's eyes and says, "I'm not here to invite you to go. I'm just being your fucking best friend in letting you know about this."

Bakugou growls looking elsewhere but his best friend, annoyed that he lost the discussion. He knows by Kirishima's stance and words he is not fucking going, and it innervates him.

He really doesn't want to think about it now. He doesn't want to think about you . He doesn't want to worry yet all he does is worry . For you. For your wellbeing. For the situations you probably have gone through, alone. Not with him around to take every blast he could for you. Not with him to kick some sense in that stubborn head of yours, and vice-versa.

Fuck. He worries so fucking much it is already affecting his head, his performance in battles, his everything. Katsuki had even taken more work than he should trying to keep his mind busy to not think about you.

Kirishima knows. He had known all the bullshit Katsuki was building up inside him for a while now. He always knew when something was off with his best friend. So he invited him to have some light drinks so they could talk a bit, even though that is the least thing Bakugou would ever do. Especially about his feelings. However, Kirishima knows. He has always known.

And he was not letting his friend alone to drown in his feelings.

Bakugou looks at his friend when he feels his hand grab his shoulder. The intensity in Ejirou's eyes makes Katsuki's throat tighten.

"I will bring her back."

"I'm-..."

The explosion makes the ground tremble, and it was enough to sober Bakugou and Kirishima up.

They don't hesitate to run out of the bar and towards the place where it came, where also everyone seemed to run away from. It took them less than three minutes to arrive and both of them sigh in relief when they see they aren't the only heroes at the scene, as even Deku was already there in his costume, holding at least four villains under him. Uravity was close, she had at least ten floating in the air with her Quirk, and was setting one by one on the ground again as another hero would catch and restrain them, before guiding them towards the police cars. The scene is pretty much under control, so that makes Katsuki relax a bit.

Ejirou moves to action, offering help wherever he could. Him and Katsuki walk towards Deku, helping him with the four under him that are struggling forcefully.

Deku smiles thankfully to his friends.

"There's the bitch," says the one Ejirou is holding from the back of his shirt.

"She's fucking dead," threatens the one Katsuki is holding, which makes him angrily manhandle the scum.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Fuck you, hero!"

Katsuki doesn't have time nor the patience for this, so he doesn't care when he pushes the villain inside the car way more forcefully than he should.

Deku comes running to them as the cars take their way, and he says hopefully, "Have you seen Y/N?"

Katsuki's entire being ignites at the mention of your name. The thought of just seeing you again makes something move inside his gut that is annoyingly satisfying.

"She's back?" Katsuki hates how hopeful his own voice sounded.

"Y-yes?" Izuku frowns, "Wait, you didn't know?" He looks at both friends perplexed.

"Know what?" Ejirou asks this time.

Izuku sighs. "This villain group was a big one that settled in America, where Y/N went undercover. They were planning to attack this base intending to rob the machine that scientists were creating that apparently could send someone to the past. This group wanted to go back in time to erase the source of Quirks, so they could control everything."

An unpleasant chill went down Katsuki's back.

"Y/N has been undercover all this time, working and proving herself so she could get in… She even got in the higher ranks so they would trust her and she could fakely guide them here, where there's nothing but a handful of heroes hiding in this abandoned building ready to catch them."

Deku sounds proud, which Katsuki could comprehend. Not that he would admit that out loud. But wait, that means…

"How do you know this?"

"She hasn't been in contact directly with me, Kacchan, but my agency has been in this case since the beginning and there were loops where she could send information. She couldn't be close to anything or anyone from here or she could have been in a huge danger. But one of my sidekicks has also been undercover with her. He was the loop. From what he told us, she climbed very high; with a Quirk like hers, I'm not surprised she was the only strongest in there. I wonder if-..." Deku went on and on with his mumbling in fascination with Quirks.

Katsuki rolls his eyes. He really doesn't have time to listen to him. He wants to find you, so he simply walks away in search of you.

Two years. It had been two years.

He ends up running towards the entrance of the building, looking around, eyes searching desperately for a sight of you. Heroes and villains around made it a bit difficult, coming and going, running and catching.

Until he finally sees you at a distance.

You are standing there, on the side of the scene, watching as every villain gets taken by some hero and put into custody of the police. The wind around is making your hair float to the side. You have dyed its color, which makes Katsuki think that no matter the color, you still look beautiful. You are beautiful, end of sentence.

But the expression on your face isn't the one of a Hero enjoying victory.

The villains were shouting stuff, and it isn't until he actually pays attention to what they are saying that makes him groan in anger. Why? Because they were shouting swears and threats at you.

And you simply stand there, not responding and receiving everything they throw at you. That makes Katsuki frown. You have never been that cold, that quiet against villains. Where was your fire? Your hatred towards those scumbags-good-for-nothing?

But then your head faced forward, in the direction towards where he was standing. Bakugou's entire being is shaking in anticipation, hoping, thriving for this reunion. Then he sees your eyes. Eyes that were colder than ice. Eyes that showed only a glance of how broken your soul was. And it hurts Katsuki's own heart to see you like that.

Your eyes didn't seem to recognize him at first. Like you were seeing a very distant and almost forgotten thought, a memory that had been pushed to the deepest part of your mind and now just watching him made your brain hurt while trying to figure out the memory.

You then realize it's him , your eyebrows shooting up in surprise and you smile slightly. A smile that doesn't reach your eyes. It is the kind of smile that means "cool to see you, but not very happy about it".

Your eyes go back to the scene, smile wiped from your face and the stoic, cold expression back on your whole being.

"It's The Fall," Deku suddenly appeared next to Katsuki, making the blond jump a little, which he faked it like he was just changing the weight of his body from one foot to the other.

"The fucking what?" Katsuki asks, a bit pissed that he got caught off guard.

"The Fall. When heroes go undercover, they have to pretend to be somebody else," Katsuki rolls his eyes exasperated.

"I fucking know what undercover means, Deku."

"You're not listening, Kacchan!" Deku turns to him, looking quite serious. "The Fall happens when the hero has to return, has to stop pretending to be someone else. And then, they find themselves with the question of whether whomever they were pretending to be was their real self or not."

Katsuki gulps. "I didn't-..."

"Of course you didn't, Kacchan. You have always been you. Fight or die. Hell, I even didn't, because I have always only wanted to be a Hero. But not everyone-..."

"Oh fuck," the blond swears, finally realizing. 

You are in a limbo. In trying to remember who you were, who you are and not; what you should do and not. The Fall was winning over you, as you suddenly moved to help a woman that apparently was on your villain team.

Katsuki doesn't waste time. He runs towards you, picking you up by the waist and walking away from the scene, towards the small alley next to the building, as Deku recaptures the other woman.

"Y/N!" He tries to reason with you as you start to kick him, arms and legs swinging in the air to try and catch him, hit him with all your might. "It's me! It's Bakugou! Katsuki!" You are screaming, not stopping to struggle, as he drags you away from everyone that could see.

"LET GO OF ME, YOU FUCKING HERO –..."

You stop every movement and scream as you realize what you just said. He finally gets to circle his arms around your chest, yours trapped under his big ones. Katsuki is breathing heavily. Fuck, he had forgotten how strong you could get.

"Hero," he repeats in your ear as you settle and relax a bit in his arms. Your back pressed to his chest, his arms holding you strongly. "I'm a Hero, Dynamight, Ground Zero," he said, "Great Explosion Murder God," he tries to joke, his throat tight and almost closed with emotions he was trying to hold back –this is not the moment for them–, saying whatever he could to help your memory remember him, "It's me, Y/N, Katsuki … Your 'Tsuki."

Sillence. Only your rapid intakes of breaths are heard between you two. Still, he doesn't dare to let you go. He feels like if he does, you will slip from in between his fingers like liquid, droplets of water impossible to tame or hold back. If he let you go, you are going to fucking disappear, like smoke impossible to catch, and fly very far away from him to never return.

Bakugou Katsuki is not willing to lose you again.

Your body starts to tremble as you sob, as you cry with all your might in Katsuki's arms. And his heart breaks for you.

"Shh , it's okay. I've got you, love. I'm here…" He soothes you, hands and arms holding you tight against his chest as you cry loudly. His hands start to caress the skin of your arms as he kept whispering into your ear.

Your cries are so intense and painful to hear for him, breaking every piece of his heart for you. He can feel your legs giving up, so he kneels with you on the dirty ground, not letting you go from his arms for even a second.

You suddenly turn in his arms, facing him. Yours surround Katsuki's neck and you hug him strongly, " Katsuki," you cry in his neck, and he wishes he was able to physically take the pain you're feeling right now and throw it very far away. Or even if he had the choice to trade it with you, he would. He would carry your pain, your sorrows, your everything, for you.

"I'm here. I'm here," he repeats as you cry, softly caressing your back with his hands.

Katsuki doesn't know how much time you waited there –now sitting on the ground, his back against a wall while you sat all curled up against his chest and in between his legs– but he notices everything is done and over when Deku peeks from a corner, holding his thumb up in sign that probably everyone had gone from the place. The blond nods, and Deku takes that as a sign that he could get close. His movements slow, careful to not startle you, put you still tense in Bakugou's arms when you hear footsteps.

"It's Izuku, love." Katsuki doesn't know where he learnt to be this careful and cozy with people, he thinks it's your fault. You have been the one who taught him so many things, that it actually doesn't surprise him when his big ass hands caress carefully and softly your head, reassuring you on that touch that it's okay to let go of him a bit. "Midoriya Izuku?" He tries his friend's real name, the one name he is sure you would be glad to hear–apart from his. But you simply respond by grabbing Katsuki harder, not letting go. "Hero Deku? Or… shitty Deku," he feels his chest puff in satisfaction when you try to hide your smile against his chest.

"Ha. Ha. Funny Kacchan…" Deku says, sitting on the ground right in front of you. Very different from you, Katsuki can not hide his own smile –not that he would even try to, which makes Deku roll his eyes and also smile. "How are you feeling, Y/N-chan?"

You exhale deeply; the long, tired sigh being answer enough, but you still say, "Like… all of this is a dream. Everything feels… surreal .” You gulp, finally pulling away a bit from Katsuki. He simply let you, hand still caressing your back in confort. “Like I’ll wake up any moment and be laying on the mattress on the floor in that one room apartment I live–used to… live.”

They both notice your slip as you frown and slide a hand through your lock in a clear frustrated sign.

“I don’t know… what’s fact and what’s fake anymore… I…” The tears fill your eyes once again, your hand now grabbing the beginning of your hair. Katsuki immediately grabs your wrist trying to make you let go. “I feel angry and sad… I feel devastated by what happened… But I also feel relief, and– I don’t know what’s the correct way to feel. I don’t fucking know who I am anymore!”

Katsuki hugs you again, rocking from side to side and hushing, whispering that everything is going to be okay.

He feels Izuku’s eyes on him, on both of you. And even if the fucker hasn’t said anything yet, Bakugou knows. FUCK. He fucking knows what his best friend is going to do. So he closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Fighting his own tears back.

But he can’t hold them longer after he opens them and sees Aizawa standing at a distance. Waiting patiently. Katsuki hugs you tighter.

“Y/N-chan…” Izuku says, his gloved hand pressing on your shoulder to get your attention. “You need help. Until everything settles back into you, you need someone that can help you with this. Do we agree?”

You nod, crying and sniffing as you pull away again, and this time is Katsuki’s turn to not want to let you go. His arms grab you stronger for a moment as he hides his face on your neck.

He doesn’t want to let you go. He just got you back. He has so much to say and do and prove. He doesn’t fucking want to let you go again.

Katsuki is in denial, he knows. And he also knows he is the most selfish bastard alive for not wanting to let you go so you can properly heal. But everything he has gone, without you, and now having a little taste of getting you back, whether that be even half of you… FUCK! He definitely sounds like the most egotistic, selfish motherfucker of all.

When he’s about to finally let you go, he feels your hand tangle in the back of his head in his hair. And when his eyes find yours, he sees it. He sees the need you have of him, the sadness, the joy, the kindness, everything… He sees the want, the care, the despair . So many emotions it’s even difficult for him to maintain eye contact.

And he sees it. The love…

“If there's something I haven’t forgotten is how I feel about you. But you don't deserve the me of right now…” He shakes his head in denial, his hands holding your face and cleaning your tears with his thumbs. “I will get better… I will come back for you.”

You smile at him, and a simple action hasn't hurt so much as this. Like someone stabbed him with a knife on his chest, right where his heart is. And he’s left there, bleeding towards his death as you caress his cheek delicately one more time and stand up and walk crying towards your old teacher.

Katsuki knows it is for your health and wellbeing, but who’s going to convince his heart that this isn’t again the last time he sees you? That you will come back, that you will look for him in your return.

He brings his knees towards his chest, arms hugging them and hiding his face there. And Katsuki cries. Like a child.

He feels Izuku’s movement to sit next to him as one of his arms surround his shoulder, and he has never been grateful enough to the nerd for being the fucking best friend he has ever had.

Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t look at you parting, walking away from him. He can’t.

But he wishes he had.

#mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou katsuki #mha imagines #mha scenarios #mha angst #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bnha angst #mha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou x reader #mha bakugo x reader #mha bakugou angst #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugou angst #bakugou katsuki angst #bakugou katsuki fanfiction #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki imagines #bakugou katsuki scenarios #mha bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x yn #bnha bakugou katsuki x reader

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Mutually Assured Disaster

How I imagine the first meeting from @the-b1ah  AU here. I plan to write Danny’s first patrol with Jason and maybe the training as well.

This isn’t edited so if you see any errors please let me know.

------------

Danny skidded around a corner, his shoulder slamming into the brick wall but there was no time to worry about that bruise and it did stop him faster. He took off again down this ally, a energy blast slammed into the wall just behind him and he gritted his teeth, flinching but not making any noise or slowing down, he needed all the air he had to run. He was already so weak from what the GIW had already done to him but this was his only chance, the transfer to their facility in Gotham. He could sense that the city was a never-born in its own way and it was closing ranks to protect him, walls shifting in perceptible ways to open up passages for him, guiding him towards something and slowing the agents down.

He was so weak and the cuffs still on his wrists stopped him from phasing through anything, all he could do was run, feeling the blood and ecto pumping through his veins quicker with each step. It stained the white pants and scrub shirt they had given him, he was getting dizzy, his quick breathing rasping over a dry throat and his legs burning but he couldn’t stop. Not when he had just now started to sense what Gotham was sending him towards.

It was a signature like his own! Another undead, someone who could help him and hopefully would. Gotham felt to warm to be sending him to someone who would hurt him or be taken too, he trusted her as one of the never-born ancients, she wanted what was best for the city that was hers. He tried to turn another corner, fell, rolled and managed to stagger back to his feet though it sapped his momentum and tore open a few more old wounds. His eyes landed on a tall, broad man wearing a red helmet that completely covered his face. That was him!

“Help me,” Danny gasped desperately, “Please.” He hadn’t even noticed there was a gun trained on him until it snapped to the opening of the ally. Danny scrambled behind the strange man, making himself small as the guys and white came sprinting around the corner as well, blasters pointed at them.

“Return the fugitive!” They demanded as Danny’s abused legs finally gave out and he sunk to his knees with a soft whine, praying that this man would be enough to keep them both safe.

“Fugitive? That’s a whole ass child, why are you chasing a child with guns?” Red Hood demanded furiously, his own guns trained on the two agents.

“They might look like a child but their an extremely dangerous meta. We know Batman doesn’t like metas in Gotham, so we’ll just take him and go.” The agent said starting to approach only for hood to fire a warning shot at his feet making the man step back.

“Fuck what batman wants, this is my territory and I don’t let anyone hurt kids. Meta or not,” He snarled.

Danny heard the sound of one of the blasters charging up and gasped, looking up frantically. “Look out,” He yelled, lunging forward just in time to accidentally take the blast to the side instead, well he had meant to push hood out of the way but this worked too he supposed. He didn’t even have enough air to scream, whining through gritted teeth as he collapsed to the ground, curling in on himself and shielding his head as the air around him was filled with the sound of gun shots. It felt like forever that he lay there curled in on himself defensively as his head swam and blood and ectoplasm seeped out the new hole in his side, joining the dozens of other injuries he had.

Then it was quiet, and after another second there was a hand on his shoulder, Danny flinched violently away from the touch. “Hey kid, it’s just me,” the robotic voice assured and in that moment Danny had never found anything more comforting. He looked up and around, seeing that he and the man in the red hood were the only things left alive in that alley.

Danny gasped and nearly threw himself into the older man’s arms, he gave a startled sound but caught Danny as he trembled and clung, tears running down his cheeks as he struggled to catch his breath. “It’s alright kid, I’ve got you,” Red assured, shifting his hold on Danny so he could pick up the teenager when he stood. “Let’s get you to a hospital huh?” He asked, only for Danny to choke and frantically shake his head. “Alright, no hospital, will you let me patch you up then?” He asked, nodding firmly when Danny sniffled and nodded as well.

“Alright, I have a safe house near here,” He said, turning away from the small pile of bodies he’d left in the alley and carrying Danny towards, hopefully somewhere safe. The way that Gotham curled protectively around them seemed to say it would be. “I’m Red Hood, what’re you called kid?”

“Danny Phantom,” The kid whispered against Jason’s chest.

“That’s an odd name,” Hood said blandly and Danny might have laughed if he had the breath, if it wouldn’t have hurt to much to do so.

“So is Red Hood. I had another name, but I can’t use it anymore,” he murmured brokenly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jason asked, and only received a little shrug in return. “Alright fair enough,” Jason said with a shrug, shifting to hold Danny with one arm so he could jump up and drag down the fire escape, climbing up so he could duck through the window of one of his many apartments scattered through his territory.

He carried Danny through into the bathroom, putting him down on the edge of the tub carefully before flipping on the light. “You up to having a shower before I look after your wounds, just to rinse off the blood? I’ll grab you some clean clothes, my little brother left some stuff here that should fit you.”

“Sure,” Danny agreed softly. “It’s not as bad as it looks, I’m pretty damn tough. But, before that could you.. try and take these off please?” He asked, holding out his arms to show Hood the cuffs still around his wrists, the suppressors. There had been a chain between them but it was broken, he’d managed to snap it during the chase.

“You’re not going to cause any problems for me or my city are you? I know suppressors when I see them,” Jason asked, low and dangerous. Danny’s eyes widened and he shook his head vigorously, slowly pulling his arms back and hugging himself.

“No, I know what they said, but I’m not actually dangerous I promise. I mean I probably could be dangerous if I wanted to be, but I don’t, I’ve only ever wanted to protect people but they-, they just didn’t see that.”

Shit the kid was crying again, Jason hadn’t meant to do that, but he had needed to know and Danny’s answer was obviously true, kid wore his heart on his sleeve. Jason sighed and dug in his pocket for his lockpicks before holding out his hand for Danny’s. “Alright, I believe you, let me get those off for you,” He agreed.

Danny reluctantly let Jason take one of his wrists, watching as Jason struggled a little with the cuff, muttering a little about paranoid people. The second one was faster, Danny rubbed his wrist and murmured thanks. “No worries,” Jason said as he stood. “Now you shower, I’m going to grab you some clean clothes.

Danny watched Hood leave, taking the cuffs with him before quickly stripping off the bloody clothes and getting into the shower. He flushed out the worst wounds before icing them over and scrubbing the blood and filth off of him from weeks of imprisonment. Jason knocked to make sure he was alright a couple of times before Danny finished and got out, wrapping a towel around his waist and sitting back down on the edge of the tub. “Alright, you can come in. You don’t have to worry about the cuts really though, I’ll heal.”

Jason let himself in, pausing for a moment when he saw the ice, or maybe the extent of Danny’s wounds which were… well they were pretty damn bad. At least they hadn’t gotten around to fully vivisecting him yet. “Whether you’ll heal or not you’ll heal faster and with less scarring with some proper stitches. Can you melt the ice as well?” Hood asked and Danny nodded. “Good, you can melt it as we deal with them then. Do you want a painkiller first?”

“No point, they don’t work properly on me,” Danny said with a shrug making Jason wince.

“That must suck,” He sympathized as he got out the first aid kit and set up what he’d need to clean and suture the wounds. Danny shrugged again, he didn’t seem talkative but he was very cooperative as Jason asked him to melt the ice on various wounds to let him check them.

“So did those guys do all this to you?” Jason asked and Danny blinked at him.

“You don’t know about them?” He asked, already knowing the answer when Red hood gave him a pointed look Danny could sense even through that helmet.

“Nooo,” he drawled, “Should I?”

“They’re a government agency called the Ghost Investigation Ward,” Danny told him softly. Jason snorted only to realize Danny was completely serious. “They’ve been hunting anything with a high enough ecto-signiture for years, so you need to be careful Red. Gotham is hiding you, but especially after they see how they helped me they’ll be after you too.”

“Ecto-signiture?” Jason asked blankly, what the Fuck was that?

“Anything like us. People who died, and didn’t come back, or came back wrong,” Danny explained and Jason let out a soft startled sound.

“How the fuck did you know that?!” he asked, defensive on instinct, only calming down a little when Danny lifted his hands in a pacifying gesture.

“Like often recognizes like,” Danny said with a little shrug again.

“Fine,” Jason grumbled, letting it go for now rather then thinking anymore about his own death, or Danny’s for that matter, the kid didn’t look any older then Jason had been when he had died, younger maybe. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” Danny said, sounding relieved. Grabbing the clothes that Jason had brought for him since they were done looking after his wounds now. “Those idiots wouldn’t believe I actually needed to eat no matter how many times I told them I did. They just punished me for pretending to be human,” Danny said making Jason freeze as rage flared inside him, breathing through the green flickering on the edges of his vision as he thought about how Danny had been treated. “Hood,” Danny said softly, and Jason felt a hand on the vigilantes arm.

Danny started to hum, an odd purring sound that didn’t sound particularly human, and to Jason’s surprise after a moment something within Jason started to resonate to the sound. Jason calmed quickly as the place reverberating inside him sent waves of calm the way the pit usually radiated rage. “Okay now?” Danny asked with a smile and Jason nodded, blinking out of the slight daze before he cleared his throat and turned away abruptly, heading to the kitchen to start cooking, Danny following him like a silent shadow, his feet not making any sound on the floor.

“You just lay down on the couch and rest, any allergies?” Jason glanced over and Danny shook his head, Jason nodded, made a choice and took off his helmet, glad he’d warn a mask under it tonight. He wouldn’t exactly be able to taste the food or eat with the mask on after all, and he had a feeling that he was going to be spending more time with Danny, at least until he was healed.

“Do you have anywhere else to go?” He asked, just to confirm his thoughts. He decided to make omelettes since they were quick and it was fun to have breakfast for dinner sometimes.

“No, my sister doesn’t have a place of her own, and my parents would either sell me back to the GIW or dissect me themselves. I can look after myself though, now that you’ve got the cuffs off and the GIW off my tail I can avoid them from here. Something to eat and a little sleep and  I can be gone by morning,” he said with a determined set to his jaw.

“Absolutely not!” Jason said, pointing the spatula at Danny and lowering it quickly when the boy flinched. “I’m not leaving a kid alone on the streets, let along one who’s not from Gotham! You’ll stay with me till we find you somewhere else safe to go,” Jason said firmly and Danny hesitated for a moment before nodding.

“Okay, but once I’m healed I can help! You’re one of Gotham’s vigilantes right? I’ll fight with you.”

“Also no, I’m a vigilante but I’m no Batman, I don’t do kid-heroes, you’re to young for this life,” Hood insisted, flipping the eggs.

“You’re about two years to late for that,” Danny snorted and Jason nearly dropped the food, cursing softly when he messed up the omelette. Oh well it would still taste good it just looked a bit more ugly.

“Excuse me? How old are you?”

“I’ll be 16 in a bit more then a month,” Danny said sounding sulky. “And I’m not going to stop helping people no matter what you think. I have these powers, I want to use it for something good.”

“You’ve been acting as a hero on your own since 14!?” Jason demanded, and the look of shame on Danny’s face was all the answer Jason needed. “Fine, you can come with me. But you have to hang back, stay safe, and fucking listen to me. Got it? I’m not having your death on my conscious!” Jason insisted and tried not to be pleased by how Danny immediately brightened and grinned at him.

“Thank you! It’s going to be so nice not to have to do all this alone! To have a proper mentor, maybe?” He asked, getting softer and more uncertain at the end.

“Sure, sure. The bats are gonna have a heart attack when they find out. They’re probably going to try to steal you,” Jason joked and Danny snorted.

“I don’t want that, they’re too goody goody for me thanks. Besides, you’re like me and I was able to calm you down wasn’t I? I can help you more,” Danny said, and Jason decided not to suggest Danny might be better off with the bats. Maybe it was selfish, but he did want the help Danny offered, and he was already attached to the kid.

“Fine, but you’re not going anywhere until you’re completely healed, and you’ve showed me what you can do. We’ll practice together and once I think we’re a good enough team then you can come out with me. And I want to know everything you know about the GIW and whatever laws enable them to get away with this bullshit, because we’re going to have to do something about that too.”

“Of course!” Danny agreed and Jason could see him practically vibrating with excitement, he had to suppress a smile so Danny wouldn’t catch on to how cute Jason found that. He really shouldn’t, but it was to late now.

“Good. Now come eat,” Jason grumbled, transferring the first omelet onto a plate and handing it to Danny.

Part 2: here

#jason todd #danny phantom #Jason becomes a dad #dc x dp #the GIW #Red Hood #Danny Fenton #tw violence #this isn't edited #might edit and post on AO3 later

[respectthepetty]

How does it feel to stay winning Petty? Also who would've guessed that baby Barcode would be the one of the BOC boys to collect kisses from all the homies!?

Anon, I appreciate you sending this because, right now, I feel like an elite status female rapper. Like CL from 2NE1 rapped in their 2011 hit, "I am the best", Be On Cloud owns me, and y'all can't tell me shit about this show.

I know I have some Wild Ass Theories and I'm always clownin' in these BL streets, but I love when my theories actually hit their target like . . .

When I knew Teacher Chadok was in a relationship with Teacher Dika since the first episode of The Eclipse.

When I knew Kanghan's house was going to be robbed and his dad would be shot since the third episode of Dangerous Romance, even though I thought Saifah would do it.

When I knew Pat was working with Joke to win over Zo since the first episode of Hidden Agenda.

I love making Wild Ass Theories no matter how crazy they are, like my belief that the twins' dad is involved in this whole murder and sex work plot in Playboyy. No matter what happened in this past episode, I still believe it and am eagerly awaiting the upcoming chaos to see how hard I clowned.

Which is why I LOVE Dead Friend Forever.

I want the record to state that no matter what happens after episode seven, that at this exact moment in time, I love this show. It makes me happy to be alive at the same time this is airing, and I'm not joking. I want to remember that at one point, this show was everything to me, and even if it goes down hill, it had all my attention in the first seven episodes. I want to appreciate it right now because regardless of what happens, it did everything right in the first half.

With the way some shows keep losing their footing in the end, sometimes we forget how good they were in the beginning, and the emo in me doesn't want to forget this feeling. Some of my favorite movies are Scream, Heathers, and Jawbreaker so this show has been giving me the explicitly queer version of kill your frenemies since the very first episode, and I love it.

My internal alarm went off the second Tee got upset that Phi was speaking to White in episode one, then the dark hand touched him making him enemy #1. I didn't like the way he told White he needed to obey him, and I feel like the dark hand wasn't too pleased with it either. It was a vibe.

And now Non has a hurt hand in the past from falling off the bike . . .

Then, Jin was the main character of the previous film, so he was either the killer or the biggest baddie.

But Phi was just so sus, that I clocked him as a killer.

Which meant Phi and Jin were the killers, but Tan has no backstory and people with no history are intentionally hiding it, so they can kill everyone and peace out.

So in my mind, Tan and Phi were regulated to the killers, Tee was the second to last to die, which I'm hoping it's by his boyfriend White who he thinks disobeys him, and the rest of the squad would die as needed. Which left Jin to be the baddie.

All of my theories could blow up at any second because we don't know if Jin actually sent that video or if his computer fizzled out before it finished uploading, so he could still be a killer avenging Non instead of a baddie who wronged Non (but he took the video and that is messed up regardless of what he planned to do with it).

But either way, I'm hoping it comes down to Phi and Jin in that forest because the show started with them.

And I don't think Jin realizes who Phi is to Non since Jin never got a good look at Phi's face in the past.

The Twitter folks spotted that Phi's dad was the police chief from the letters the boys got calling them in for interrogation in episode six.

And now the knife from episode two is showing up in the past in Non's backpack.

Up until this point, I feel the show has laid out a solid story with a good cast, and I think Be On Cloud relied on their KinnPorsche casting to throw people off in this show because who expected Us to be doomed in the first episode? That was like Drew Barrymore dying at the beginning of Scream.

People have felt off about JJ's character, but the show wouldn't really have JJ do anything bad to sweet Barcode, right?

And Barcode and Ta being paired together was a pipe dream for the Macau x Porchay shippers, so it could never happen here!

Especially because Ta and Copper won The Hidden Character, which meant they were going to be the main pair of this show, right?

WRONG!

Barcode is gonna be involved in some fucked up shit, and according to those MDL comments, people are realizing they messed up making any assumptions before this show started based on what the actors previously did.

I truly feel like BOC looked at its lineup and said "Baby Barcode was babygirled so hard for the past two years that the audience won't even think his character is capable of such things"

and I love that for us.

BOC gave these youngsters (19-23 in age) a script from Dr. Sammon and the Pit Babe writers and said "go HAM, bitches"

And the audience stays winning.

This isn't about my Wild Ass Theories coming true. This is an appreciation post for what this show has given to me up until this point - a good mystery.

Every week I have more questions and none of them feel like they will go unanswered. Is Non dead? Did Jin actually upload the video? Is Tan a killer? Why did Phi hook up with Jin? Will White finally snap, crackle, and pop like a bag of Rice Krispies treats for the mere fact that he simply wanted a nice weekend getaway with his boyfriend and now has to deal with all this bullshit?

But most importantly, when did Phi realize he was going to kill all of them after making them run around scared for their lives?

Because by time the show makes it back to the present day, I'm sure we're all going to want to watch these kids suffer in the worst ways possible.

Manipulate, Murder, Mayhem

#dead friend forever #dead friend forever the series #I got wild theories for days #but all I know for sure is I love this show #please don't disappoint me show #you have all my attention #don't break my heart #phi has to be in on this #he must want revenge #and a confession #let me have this!

[dittolicous]

hear me out

stealth black!sanji where sanji does indeed start losing his emotions and word makes it way back to judge, so he has him kidnapped/his death faked and uses science to rush the removal of emotions along with wiping a good chunk of his memories to make him easier to control... the focus however was high-key placed on emotions such as empathy, humility, kindness, joy, etc. since judge wanted to ensure to an absolute degree that sanji's 'flaws' were wiped clean, leaving only the perfected stealth black he was always meant to be

but judge makes a mistake

in his hurry to eradicate the humanity, he didnt consider the consequences of leaving even an inkling of negative emotions within an abused, aching shell - smattering of disjointed memories, blurry faces in sporatic dreams, voices that are just outside his grasp, a longing for something but yet lacking a name...

injured, raw, bloody from unknown wounds he may be, but stupid, sanji is not

he's stealth black, espionage is his specialty, he knows how the human mind works, how words can be twisted, the ways a tide can be turned with the right leverage. all people, with the right tools, are malleable. he also knows the range of his 'father's' skills, knows how far judge would go to secure a victory, how little he fears damaging his own to get the right outcome...

sanji knows

there is a hole where his heart ahould be, deep, dark, and endless. he cannot feel love, but he knows its absence. there is no sympathy for the innocent lives ravaged in the vinsmoke name, yet its mention brings bile to his throat. he sees the sunrise across the sea with blank eyes and watches it set on the corpses of kingdoms with growing repulsion

his brothers laugh, they were taught how despite it having little meaning to them. they echo the teachings of their father.

sanji had that ripped away. he can recognize a hole when he sees it even if he doesnt know what once filled it. there are no empty laughs. no fake smiles. no uncaring boasts. he cannot, there was no reason for him to (were even the echos of joy a risk?)

instead he burns

hot loathing makes a home in his chest. contemp and fury settle in his lungs, growing with every breath he takes, fueled by the embers of despair settling in his stomach

sanji knows despair, knows how deep their roots take in humanity, that to be human is to suffer... but without the other half, the joy of human connection which makes it all worthwhile, the act of living, he cannot conceptualize the value of being alive in the face of such suffering

instead he stands back and watches. unbalanced, unchecked, and under-estimated, stealth black plans. he'll rid the world of their filth, finishing the job blackleg sanji was too weak to do

for in his hurry, judge forgot about sanji's rage, about the depths of his grief and the ferocity of his burning passion. so afraid of one little boys generosity, he brushes off the dangers of unbridled resentment, that malice cannot always be reigned in by an iron fist alone

and where once, there were certain teachings of honor and integrity, of love and belief to temper this flame, judge left nothing. he took away the soft words of a kind mother, the sharp kicks of a caring father (his real father), the unabashed voices of true nakama...

is it really all that surprising that once loving flames would turn into a blazing inferno, one which burns the world indiscriminately?

judge doesnt realize he didnt defang the wolf, no, he removed the muzzle

tl;dr - if a person is made of burning passion and you remove their kindness, wouldnt that just leaving burning? judge focuses only on getting rid of sanji's soft traits not considering that he'd never actually be able to control a sanji that rages indiscriminately, which eventually comes to bite him in the ass as stealth black sets the world on fire out of self-loathing

#one piece #blackleg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #stealth black #sanji #ditto rambles #burning rage au

[gaelmartinewrites]

the werewolf and you

nsfw, monster,

you didn’t realize you were lost until it was too late. the once familia tress turned into dark and twisted shadows. the moon turned its back on you and offered no guidance. 

all you wanted to do was go for a walk in the forest you were raised in. you knew these trees and they you but you were in too deep now. your thoughts clouded your eyes like the clouds about clouded the full moon. you knew not to be in the woods during a full moon. too many dangers in the woods already but even more so when the moon was full but you didn’t expect to get lost.

you took a turn here. took a turn there. left, right through the forest until you were no longer found. it was cold, the ground frozen and your dress too thin for the night ahead. you’d be an icicle when they find you in the morning, if they find you.

there was a clearing ahead of you. a fallen tree with its roots like reaching fingers offered you a place to sit. it wasn’t your nice, warm bed but it was someplace to rest for a moment. there was no point in walking any further. you were only getting loster. 

half sleeves covered your arms and no matter hoe much you rubbed your hands against them, you still couldn’t find warmth. you wanted to start a fire but everything was too wet and your fingers were too numb. you though about other ways to warm yourself. like the way you do on cold winter nights alone in your room. 

your breath quickened just at the thought. your dead fingers slowly came back to life. you put a finger into your mough to warm it- your tongue twisted and flicked and warmed your hand to life. your heart raced as your hand grazed yout breasts and stomach and as you lifted the hem of your dress. normally you’d tease yourself, take your time before you commited to yourself but you didn’t have the luxary this time. it was life or death, you reminded yourself. this was not for pleasure, it was to keep you warm. to keep you alive.

your fingers were inside you and your tongue pressed against your lips, holding back a moan. you gribbed bark as your fingers moved faster and faster. moans finally escaped your lips and formed clouds above your head. you were so enveloped with yourself you didn’t hear the twigs snapping around you. something testing your reaction but you kept yourself so blissfully unaware.

the warmth from your cunt exploded like a dying sun and wrapped its arms around you. your eyes were closed but you could still see stars and moons that danced around your weightless head. your breath escaped you like a wild storm and it took you awhile to find yourself in the darkness. yours bones came back to life and blood flowed through like a rushing river.

you opened your eyes hoping to find the moon but instead you were found by something else. in front you, blocking the ignorant moon, stood a dark, grey creature. a creatyre of myth. something from stories told you by your older sisters to scare you as a child. a werewolf, with teeth shinging against the light of the full moon, stood before you.

you had no time to react as the beast grabbed you and pulled you closer. one clawed hand wrapped around your wasit and the other reached for your breasts and tore open your dress to expose you to the elements. his touch scorched your skin and you could gather your thoughts, the werewolf was inside you. the moon, no longer hidden behind the clouds, blinded you. your hole stretched and pulsed against the beast’s cock. you wrapped your legs around his waist and steadied yourself on the fallen tree.

the werewolf’s grunts mixed with your moans and filled the air with erotic melodies. you moved your body to the rhythm. you felt your wetness slide down the roundness of your ass and feed the earth below.

the werewolf picked you up off the tree and fucked you in the air. his cock filled your cunt and warmed you to the core. your skin was on fire with passion and lust. the course fur of the werewolf wrapped around your fingers. you looked into the werewolf’s yellow eyes and he looked in yours. you could see the man behind the beast and the beast in control of the man.

the werewolf lifted his head and howled at the moon. he pumped you harder and faster and you howled, too. the werewolf’s cum exploded inside you, you could almost taste it in your mouth. you both continued to howl and after your song, you were spent and so was he.

the werewolf detached himself from you and place you on the ground. your knees buckled beneath you and you fell to your knees. you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t think. your mind was full of dirty and lustful thoughts of the werewolf. if you weren’t so tired you would’ve jumped on the beast again and demanded more but all you could do was close your eyes and fall to your side.

you fell asleep so quickly you didn’t feel the werewolf pick you up again and begin to run. it felt like only a whisper of a moment since you closed your eyes but when you opened them again you found yourself safe in your bed. it could’ve been a dream if it weren’t for you sill ripped dress. your nipples hard at the memories of what happened in the woods.

the sun was slowly rising in the sky nad your family would wake soon. you slipped off your dress and admired your cum stained legs. you wanted to stay that way all day, a naughty secret to keep while you did your chores. your family, assuming your innocent, unaware of the whore you truely are.

you took a wet cloth and cleaned yourself before butting on a new dress. you climbed back into bed, it would still be another two hours before anyone else stirred in the house. the warmth of your bed didn’t come slose to the warmth of the werewolf’s touch. you felt cold, as cold as you were when you were lost in the forest.

your thoughts began to cloud again but then you heard a howl. you smiled and listened to the hopeful song of your midnight lover, a final lullaby as you finally drifted off to sleep.

#this is unedited #and pretty much a first draft #werewolf #monster fucking #monster x human #monster x reader #monster smut #open to thoughts and comments #constructive critism too

[queenendless]

🔞 Specialz (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader)🔞

A/N: Yeah ... I might be writing more Shibuya inspired smut than I thought. KINDA canon divergence cause in this AU Gojo can heal others too so sorry for the confusion, BIG TIME!

LONG ASS FIC, OVER 7K LONG, MY LONGEST ONE YET OH LORD! ALL FOR THESE TWO SO THERE!

⚠️ CW WARNING ⚠️ NSFW CONTENT! Porn with long ass plot, murder/bloodshed, somewhat feral Gojo, sorta exhibitionism/definite vouyerism, choking kink, tentacle action, deepthroat fuck, breeding/claiming kinks, unprotected sex, clit play, creampie, p in a and v, double p in v, nicknames/pet names, some dirty talk, praise talk, GoGe simping, horny SatoSugu x reader in already established polyamorous MMF relationship. This smut piece is gonna be as horny as I can make it. SO MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.

I hope you enjoy.

Credit to anaemicc on Wattpad for the new smut terminology Imma gonna use as reference help when writing 🔞 content from now on.

The setting is Shibuya on Halloween night. Crimson tainting the skies, the cityscape, your thighs ... The AU where Geto is alive, he and Gojo are secret lovers, and are yours, banging you for the entire city to see amiss the chaos that unfolds ...

"Hey you." The sudden warped appearance of you alarmed Jogo, peeved off Choso and stirred up Gojo's sudden carnal longing. "You're wanted elsewhere. So," Your unsure drawl was cut off by Choso's poisonous blood shots narrowly scraping you, swirling through the air, as bodies got caught in the crossfire dropping by the hat. "Eyes on me."

Though that made it hard to divide your attention as you felt so turned on by the gleeful smiling face of one Satoru Gojo that ripped that special grade's veiny arm clean off right between his legs so provocatively.

"Oya oya~" Gojo's eyes widened at the sight of your lithe self; foolishly valiant in the face of death. "I felt you coming a mile away, sweetie~ Sliding in after me, alright~"

"Less innuendo, more exorcizing!" Your cursed energy pushed as many normes outta the way as you could to leave you more room to work to draw that Death Painting in.

Stopping use of his Limitless technique, Gojo gave up on adjusting his technique and focused on compact attacks using curse energy manipulation, operating with only basic cursed energy manipulation and martial arts.

Unable to use Domain Amplification and their Innate Techniques at the same time, Volcano – Jogo – safely uses the former to protect himself unlike Hanami – Weeds.

Foolishly dropping their Domain Amplification just to use their vines to strike at you two compelled you to force push the panicking crowd afar, barely swerving out of range. You're left breathless at a crazed smiling Gojo spinning like a starfish through those vines, eerily giddy as he ripped out those rooted eyes, feeling weak in the knees at imagining Toru asking your greatest weak spot with that look, in that tone…

Your distracted self sensed too late as you were caught in iron, lean arms, eyes glowing dangerously and narrowed possessively.

"Careful, babe~ You want to get hurt that bad, huh~?" The low, dark tone he took with you as his barrier shield you two from the poisoned blood shed coating it, scoffing under his breath. "Where the fuck is he?"

The lights flickered as Volcano and Weeds tried their Amplification fists once more, spurring Gojo to maintain his technique the more they tried neutralizing it.

"Just be careful …" Gojo sounded so far off, trained onto those special grades, reluctantly releasing you. Now was not the time for further discussion. The plan had to keep going, as should you. "Now."

Barely a moment of you warping out of Limitless, did Choso's hands teeming with cursed energy etched straight close to your glowing eyed face. Just where you wanted him.

You sensed another familiar presence down the other end of the tunnel behind him as your cursed energy wave knocked him back enough in the right spot.

"About time." Gojo smacked his tongue under his breath, smirking regardless, relieved at sensing him as well, of course.

"Prison Realm … gate open."

Tentacles slithered out from the shadows beneath Choso's feet, summoned to immobilize him with their tensile grip, just enough time for the gate to unravel in its bleedy X shape. Just as your cursed punch socked him in the face for good measure.

"Nice right hook, honey~" Suguru's rich airy voice was all you could make out to be him since the lights flickered once again.

Choso's lack of combat experience paired with the task of not causing too much carnage did not make things easier. For every limb Choso erodes away from his cursed bloody touch, ten more take their place. The exploding sprays of piercing blood struck down many lingering fools still unable to see the full picture.

"I'm sorry I can't save everyone. So I promise to exorcise them instead!" Both thoughts raced through yours and Gojo's mind.

Your cursed energized back kick whipped Choso's head sideways, earning a low whistle from Geto. For a human spirit hybrid, Choso could take it. You still felt somewhat bad inside for it, though.

Goosebumps immediately raked up your skin at the sight of how easily Gojo crushed the weakened asparagus between his Limitless and the wall.

Volcano's threat to burn them both alive didn't deter Gojo nor Geto in the slightest.

Just as darkness overtook everything one second, light flickered back on in the next.

Hanami's purple blood splattered the crater dented wall; steam and ash wafted off it, leaving Jogo shitting himself.

"Next one."

God, you got wet hard at that moment, blushing something fierce, wanting Satoru looking at you like that.

One minute was up.

The tentacles vanished in place of the cube latching onto Choso, jutting out of him from various points.

"Good night, Choso Kamo. You are spared … this time. Prison Realm, close." With all cursed energy drained, Choso was swallowed right in, the Prison changing from a red fleshy cube with various open eyes to a solid stone closed eyes cube once more, slamming into the floor with sheer force, and Geto looking down at it with disgust. "His desire to avenge his younger brothers' deaths by Itadori-kun's hands means he won't kill himself trapped inside this until he's freed to see his goal through … still though … wasting my efforts on this hybrid monkey. What a joke."

Geto noticing your attention elsewhere, eyes glowing that cursed blue, floating up onto the platform, alarming those frightened monkeys away as you were lost in your future vision. "None of them deserve my cursed gift the way you do."

"Fuck." Gojo's eerily calm voice barely hid his excitement at how breathtaking you look among the carnage littered ground, twistedly smiling at a fleeing Jogo, "The sooner I exorcise you, the sooner I can pound my angel to oblivion."

Magnetically latching his heels on the metal border and levitating himself upright, he used Limitless to halt thrown humans his way by Jogo as cover. If too many lives were lost here, then there'd be no reason for Gojo to hold back anymore. Jogo was itching too close to you to his liking.

Sooner than scheduled —

"An eight-car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line. Please do not lean on the platform doors or reach your hands or face past them." The announcement came on, followed by the rocking screeching sight of the eight train cars hailing from Meiji Shrine.

Lost in the sea of costumed people running for their believed way out of this mayhem, appalled gasps stirred the crowd bustling around the opening train doors as panic and disgust raced through Jogo at the eight car train filled with gutted, bleeding, dead transfigured humans falling out. And no Patchface in sight.

"Mahito – GRK!" Garbling Jogo got grabbed by the neck in his lapse of focus, slammed into the floor, leaving a crater sized dent in the wake.

"Hands off my woman." Gojo hissed venomously.

"That all went faster than expected." After spraying himself insistently to get rid of the monkey stench, Geto picked up the cube and slipped into the back of the station amidst the chaos.

The root covered exit crumpled apart with Hanami now exorcised, causing dozens upon hundreds of people to fall in. Gojo growled, suspecting more cursed spirits or users are above too.

"I'm on it!" Brazenly catching as many falling normies through the caving ceiling as you could brought faint smiles to both their faces.

Looking back to lock eyes with Satoru once more, Suguru slid the cube to him along the floor, his nihilistic smile being the last thing Gojo saw before warping away himself.

Just as three swift blurs came straight outta the train door, helping you catch every other falling figure, bouncing off the debris chunks like springs alongside you.

Recognizing their cursed energy presences, Gojo cackled with mad glee.

"Game over." Slamming Jogo hard enough into the ground, blue flames licked the air as they enveloped Jogo whole. "I win."

Eroding to ashes, Gojo's form sagged down in relief as the fear felt in the room washed away by confusion and relief. Spotting Yuji and Mei instructing the masses left standing to leave via the stairways as Ui stands proudly by his very much older sister's side, including that the proper authorities would tend to them outside. Scooping up the cube, he floated back up to even level.

"Gojo-sensei!" Yuji's cheeriness lightened the bloody setting, running over.

"The veils have all been lifted. Which made exorcizing the special grade responsible for the transfigured humans attainable. Itadori-kun made sure of that." Mei informed him, making Yuji blush from the praise. "Y/n-chan's seer intel was spot on. Truly a valuable asset~" Mei Mei praised you as well.

"I expect nothing less from her~" Gojo's senses – coming down from his looney high – sensed your presence having teleported farther up. On the highest floor. Oh, sweetie, why?

"Hey! Thank Nee-sama for her compliments, you tall oaf!" Ui bristled up.

"So, Gojo-kun, you owe me for today. Cause I'm guessing … Geto-kun will no longer be helping out around here?" Her coy smile paired with that velvety threat didn't deter Gojo facially. But left Yuji as the dumbfounded cutie at the moment.

"Hmm." Pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket, he meddled with it. "Well, with the veils dropped, I'm finally able to make a hefty deposit in your account." The ping on Mei's own phone plus the wide ass smile on her laughing face spoke volumes. "Yuki and Yuta will be stopping by soon. When they do, hand them this." Airily stating, Gojo tossed the cube for Mei to catch, who recognized it right away. "She has her own plans for that hybrid pup, anyway, so …"

Mei hummed pleased with the conspiratory talk, accepting the curse wrapped cube. "The Prison Realm huh? What are you all up to, I wonder?" He didn't look up for further discussion on the topic. She could keep her lips sealed, for however long she gets paid big at least. "Very well. Thank you for the extra pay, Gojo-kun~"

Seeing his student praying on the sidelines for the human lives lost tonight made melancholy stir within him. "Yuji." Grabbing his attention, ruffling his pink hair affectionately, Gojo's endearing smile had Yuji blushing. "Great work."

"Sensei …" Blinking back tears, brushing them away with his sleeve, Yuji nodded firmly. Mahito was exorcised. The lives lost because of him – Junpei – were at last avenged. "I didn't lose this time."

"Good. I'll leave the rest of the cursed spirit clean up to you all … unless the end of the world comes crashing down on us, that is. If not, I'll see you back at campus tomorrow, my precious pupil~" He chuckled as he ruffled Yuji's hair once more. "Until then, gotta jet~!"

His two finger salute and bright smile was the last sight those three saw before teleporting.

Joining his special two souls awaiting him uptop, sky high.

❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞

Two badasses with God complexes.

Conflicting ideals.

Enemies on paper.

But partners nonetheless.

Quelling this near nationwide disaster by a fragile truce to team up and take down those special grades.

All because of you; your cursed Seer self.

Many lives were still lost.

But better that than tipping the scales into full blown chaos.

A pounding headache, for instance. Which made warping that much harder on your head and neck, to be honest. Wobbly walking, vision blurry, now blinding as the Shibuya night lights sparkled through the glass stained border walls of the observatory deck, draping an arm across your stinging eyes as your other hand leaned on the wall for support.

"Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" Gojo's slow horror slasher walk upon you was twice as nerve wracking as watching it unfold on Volcano head. That plus sexy. "Nearly getting yourself killed. Butting in when I could handle it all myself. Then trying to slip out?" He sighed heavily, vibrant eyes narrowed like a predator. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Correction." The nihilistic smiling presence of Geto walking out of the shadows behind one of the few supporting metal pillars had your heart jolting in anxious excitement. "What are we gonna to do to you?"

Your hand slipped as your knees buckled, going limp, as your world view tilted, when Satoru caught you from behind, gently helping you sit down; to both their concern and relief.

"Hey hey, easy." Satoru gently laid your head in his lap as he sat Indian-style against the wall, brushing aside your hair strands tickling your face, his fingers massaging your cranium and scalp. "You pushed yourself hard tonight, sweetie."

"For weeks, actually. Just take slow calm breaths." Pulling your legs gently to straddle his hips as he sat curled up before you two, Suguru massaged your thighs, eyeing you with such prideful devotion. "You did great, honey."

Satoru hummed in agreement. "We're so proud of you~"

"Don't mention it." You went limp in their grasp, desiring to stay this way in your own share of Infinity.

"Still though," Satoru's shaky tone made your breath hitch at that same feral edge from before return; gaping to his sinuous intentions. "After the hell we went through tonight … I just want to take you here and now and make you a mess myself~"

"He's not the only one~" Suguru's own supine gaze had your chest tighten in nervous anticipation. "After all the hassle we were put through tonight, we deserve our own reward. Sparing those monkeys required such restraint on my part, after all. You already understand what we seek the most now."

You squirmed, clasping your hands together in a praying plea. "GoGe foreplay first … please~?"

Suguru snorted, slyly smirking at you, holding your hands in his giant sculpted ones, smooching your knuckles. "Hmm, should we give the lovely lady what she wants, Satoru~?"

Satoru sighed heavily, smiling smugly, dipping down to kiss your forehead. "At this point, why not~? Besides," Roughly grabbing him by the bun, Satoru yanked him forward hard enough to clash sloppy smooches with. "I've missed my Suguru~"

You shifted between their two leaning bodies, eyeballing as Satoru's other hand clutched and squeezed Suguru's neck; veins flexing out on said hand and neck. Drool slipped down the corner of Geto's mouth, raspy grunts leaving his rosy flush face, as their velvet slobbering tongue duel dragged on. It was quite enticing to your GoGe starved eyes. "Hah, I see this still gets you going~ Depraved of my suffocating touch crushing you~" Gojo playfully taunted.

Geto husked out some dry laughs, "You crave it too~ Breaking me in, like the raunchy bastard I can see coming out of you~!"

A welt of anger pulsed the side of Gojo's head, startling you as he shifted his weight against Geto's, quickly slamming him against the glass wall beside you by the neck, "How's this for you then~?"

"Hah~! Perfect~!" Geto's raspy laugh was cut off as Gojo devoured his wet mouth whole, their deep groans of lust slipping out between every parting of their lips, drool connecting their tongues as their heaving mouths were so close to each other. Eyes half lidded with smoldering fixation on each other atop such heightened emotions looked to be borderline dangerous. "Tell me, Satoru~ Do you still miss this~?"

From the inky shadows Geto summoned, the tentacles returned, wrapping around Gojo's wrists to free Geto and let him breathe; red prints left on his thick veiny neck, gleefully smiling as the snowy haired man fell to his knees with his hands restrained behind his back. As more tendrils helped undo his gold colored kasaya garment, his black yukata robes came next as the skin of his broad upper body was revealed; damn muscles. The sash now untied, his length was freed, flapping against Gojo's curling lips.

"Getting impatient, aren't we Suguru~?"

"You are too, smart ass~"

"Mmh, you're not wrong~" Missing that taste he always relishes, Gojo hummed as he took Geto all in one go, slathering that pulsing dick with as much fervor as the starving beast coming out inside him that needed sustenance.

"Aah fuck~! Yes, Satoru~! Just like that~!" Suguru's chants of praise went in sync with his lecherous moans as he raked his hand through those snowy locks to press him closer, his little bun fell loosely unkempt from his insistent thrusting, slamming himself against the wall with each bang echoing off the see through borders. "Take me, Satoru~! Take it all~!"

Satoru's insatiable slurping paired with his thorough tongue lashing and gluttonous sucking accentuated Suguru's echoes; his nose buried deep in those raven colored pubes.

A sneaky appendage slithered beneath Gojo's slim tight pants, then under his boxer shorts. Lurching from the slimy firm hold stroking his own hardened length mercilessly, Gojo's deep groans vibrated through Geto's dong, driving his moans higher and louder than before. Rubbing his head with its wet end, sliding down to brush his balls, it all had Gojo's legs trembling as he instinctively grinded against Geto's beating heat. "Sneaky bastard~!" Satoru's muffled words were overshadowed by the titillated mewls mushing out of his stuffed mouth as well.

"Ah~!"

"Mh~!"

"Ngh~!"

Lathered in the cum slipping down both sides of his mouth and chin, Satoru's deepthroating by Suguru's slamming thrusts paired in tuned with those insistent rough strokes on his girth finally had them coming undone in unison; their verbal and muffled cries of release had your eyes bulging out of their sockets.

Pressing your trembling fist to your lips, you marveled at their flushed expressions and enamored noises, leaving you elated at making you come just from watching their pleasure together. And yet, it wasn't enough. Not until you felt those two interwoven with you. You were long overdue.

Your muffled cry of coming reminded those two you were still here, curled up against yourself, eyes glossed, lost in them coming down from their highs.

"Satoru~ It appears our dear Y/n has been by her lonesome long enough~" Dumping his heavy load for the latter to swallow greedily, Suguru retracted those tentacles out from Satoru's now ruffly tainted pants, freeing his bound arms as well, sending that particular curse back into the shadows, watching you with mischievous glee, knowing you in this state would prefer their touch than an octopuses.

Satoru's breathtaking blue eyes were now in your line of sight, heaving heavily with that rosy tinted face, sending droves of butterflies storming your insides. His feral mindstate was returning, being stoked higher, sharing Suguru's sentiments entirely. "Then, what say I plow that pretty mouth of hers myself?" Satoru's languid tone conflicted with his hungry gaze.

"So long as I can devour that finely plump ass~" Suguru purred, mischievously grinning.

"Deal."

Nothing compared to the white hot scorching of your lovers' tongues as Satoru legit crawled over to you, backpedaling you to be flushed against the opposite wall, openly kissing you to submission, your fingers raking through his white undercut then into his fluffy hair had him sighing in comforting bliss. Your eye peaked open, spotting Suguru kissing you from your neck to your jawline until eventually tempting you to pull away from Satoru's lips just to kiss him instead, despite Satoru's pouting at missing your lips already.

"Are you both good? We are risking getting caught together …" You couldn't help it.

Their hearts throbbed for your worrywart self.

Satoru couldn't help but laugh. "Even now, you're still worried about us?"

Suguru chuckled. "We appreciate your concern for us, Y/n, but we're fine."

"More than ever, in fact. And right now, all I want is to gaze upon you. No covers. No restraints." Satoru, taking your hand in his, pressed kisses to your knuckles. "The way it should be~"

You hummed as Suguru took your other hand in his as he pressed it to his cheek, nuzzling your palm then kissing it. "Just the three of us."

You weaved your hands through their locks at the back of their heads, pressing their foreheads against yours, hugging them around their necks, getting teary eyed from the swell of emotions coming forth. "I need you so much closer … both of you."

Tilting your chin upwards between his forefinger and thumb gave more room for Suguru to clamp his teeth deep into your neck, gnawing long and hard enough in various spots to leave those red marks in his wake. "Goddess incarnate, you truly are~"

Sucking and licking from your ear down to the valley between your bosoms, Satoru smugly grinned up at you. "How did demons like us get gifted with such a naughty little angel~?"

With combined feral impatience, they tore open your dark jujutsu jacket, stripping your gasping self of your undershirt as well, smirking as they ripped your bra clasp apart, before devouring a mound for each to take.

"Toru~! Sugu~!" Your wanton cries made them that much harder, your fingers tugging harshly at their hair, as you surrendered to their mouths.

Suguru flicked your one rosy tipped mound, pinching and twisting it between his lithe long digits to his enjoyment at its jigglingness. "Neh … Satoru? Shall we finally claim this sinfully beautiful lady for ourselves?"

Satoru lashed your other swelling hill with feverish hardness, teething your bud as well as suckling it messily in between, before deeply chuckling. "From the look on her face, I'd say so."

He wasn't wrong.

Grabbing you by your hips, ripping the button off your work pants, sliding your panties down with them as well, they both breathed in your long missed bare beauty and your sought out essence.

Satoru's slim-fit matching black pants were shoved down those long fine legs, along with those soiled briefs, freeing himself at last. Suguru's high waisted poofy pants came down too, more erect and thick than before. In their own mind reading way, they knew what they wanted.

"Hug my neck, Y/n. And hold on tight." Satoru commandingly whispered in your ear. Just as you did as instructed, he lifted you up by your hips just as Suguru grabbed you by your knees, both carrying you with iron clad grips, both standing up with such ease. The strongest duo, people.

Stunned from the swift change in position, your hanging self suddenly rolled your eyes back as your body swayed from the tingling pilfering their already coated dongs evoked as they slid into you with familiarity. The flash of pain from the swift plunge made you shout loudly only to moan even harder as they lit the fire in you.

"Aah~! Hah~! Aghn~! Uhh~!" Your incoherent babbling only got them going, stroking their innuendos.

SQUELCH!

Suguru slamming you so hard from behind, drunk on how exhilarating you felt intertwined. "Mmph! Such a – mgh! – tight squeeze you are~!"

FWOP!

Satoru pounding into you excessively, his feral side coming back with a vengeance, shaking from sparks raking his nerves from your inner dripping heat sucking him up just as greedily. "That's it, Y/n~! Take it all~!"

THRUST!

Cum trickled down from all over, trailing down both men's legs and your flesh, forming puddles on the floor at how much was coming out.

The flaps of skin against skin, the gushing squished, the night lights of Shibuya highlighting all your curves, spasms, shuddering, the sweat lining your forms, your gaping sleek mouths, your muscles contracting and clenching.

You deeply missed this.

Intoxicated by their unadulterated need for your indulgence, your arching back, your bouncy breasts throbbing from each thrust, your lissom face, it was all – !

"Fuck, your cunt is heaven~!" Satoru keened hornfully, crushing his sloppy lips into yours, eating up all your mewls.

"Shit, your ass is bliss~!" Suguru raggedly moaned as you clenched around him, slipping in and out ravenously, bringing his face down to chew on your supple peaches.

The cacophony of your trio's profane shouts of ecstasy reverberated around you, eyeing the nightlife beyond the walls, wondering amiss the chaos in your mind if the others were alright. You could feel the number of cursed spirits dwindling, your allies spirits still intact, and the euphoria drowning away the headache your visions always gave.

Time slowed down as you felt Suguru's sweaty face pressing your lower back and Satoru's own against your own, both stopping as they heatedly caught their breaths, exchanging nervous but curious gazes, before Satoru looked into your eyes with his serious ones. "Y/n … will you let us … start a family with you?"

Your heart squeezed as they slowly lowered you back on the stained ground, humming as Suguru expressed the same intentions, having you straddling his lap from behind, angling your face to see his charming one again resting on your shoulder. "Being apart after all this time has made us consider what we now desire going forward."

"Granted, 10 days is just too much separation, if I'm gonna be honest!" Satoru griped, nuzzling your unoccupied cheek, smiling warmly. "And yeah, raising Megumi and Tsumiki together over the years has been quite the adventure."

"The same goes for Mimiko and Nanako … but they particularly want a baby sibling to dote on and spoil endlessly." Suguru softly laughed.

"Granted, I too would spoil that kid … our kid … to be honest, raising a kid in our kind of world is difficult, especially if they become a sorcerer, inherit our techniques, and be seen as another cursed pawn to use for society's personal gains … unless we destroy the corrupt system first." Satoru's straightforwardness had truth to your current realistic problem.

"This past year has been challenging for all of us. And I believe our secret partnership is not so secret after tonight. But if we do decide to have a kid, then we'll defend them until our last dying breaths." Suguru vowed, squeezing your hand in his giant sculpted one to your smiling delight.

"But only with you. And only if you want to." Satoru sheepishly chuckled. "Even though my dick is literally up your womb now."

"Baka." Suguru scoffed under his breath.

Your hands took each of theirs to cup your now stuffed belly together; Satoru's cock still inside. "I'll only ever bear one … with you two."

You were willing to do it. You yearned for it. Lord, the thought of bearing a child you three created together brought tears to your eyes. "So yeah. Let's do it."

Pulling out of you on both ends to make this work, Satoru stripped off his high collared jacket to ball into a makeshift pillow and Suguru slipped out of his monk robes for you to splay your bare back on, they made sure you were comfy enough to further progress as they gently laid you down on your temporary bedding. "Thanks~" You whispered your gratitude, earning big moist smooches on your honey soft cheeks from them.

Lustful possessive looks now sprouting on their faces, Satoru draping your left leg over his left hip and Suguru doing the same to your right leg over his right hip, each then taking a hand of yours to pin them both above your head; intertwined fingers and all, before guiding their veiny soaking thickness in their spare hands to gently, carefully, simultaneously sliding them into your achingly drenched folds. Your breathless urgent gasps came quickly, them being tolerable enough to give you time to adjust at being double stuffed.

After pulling in a lungful of air, you whispered. "K - Keep going."

Rolling their hips in sync, they completely domineered you in all your good spots, their upper ripped bodies flexing to your inner delight as they heaved in and out, gritting out groans through their teeth with you convulsing around them obsessively.

Blood buzzed in your ears whereas theirs were roaring at how much your moans enlivened them.

Their lean statures bending over just to suckle and smooch your face and neck, leaving red blemishes and bite marks in their wake. Your back curving in order to press your fuzzy nude self to theirs for their comfortable safe warmth.

Your throbbing breasts were brazenly exposed by their groping, thumbing and pinching with those long lithe fingers before their mouths swallowed your swelling melons; one for each to partake on. Their steamy breaths, savage canines, and skillful tongues combined with their jutting taking things up a notch had your toes curling and your legs squeezing their waistlines desperately when you saw it.

Your reflections on the smooth ceiling. Your flamed face, their ruffled heads devouring your boobs, cum slathering your clit as more splattered on your abdomen.

The thrill of seeing you all in your primal states made you howl sharper.

"None are worthy to bask in your raw majesty but us~" Suguru dictated selfishly, drooling popping off your breast, noticing your gaze training upwards before his veiny hand grasped your chin, forcing you to meet his depraved smile. "Devoted to only us~!"

"This cunt, this body, everything that you are!" Satoru's deepened husky voice going with each savage pounding had you gushing out more messily as he looked up from your other abused tit with narrowed eyes, shadowed with the thrill of his feral edge. "Ours."

Shedding hotly shimmering tears from the rippling explosions edging you closer, all you could do was writhe and spasm in delectable anguish as their pelvises tapped you like wrecking balls; delving straight for your womb, with your cunt throbbing at how much you missed this. Them. Smothering you in your own ripple of heaven.

The springs were coiling as you were all etching closer to the edge. Static sparked their fingertips when Suguru began gently squeezing and choking you, earning him your gasping heaving mouth with your tongue sticking out to his wry amusement. "Now then honey~ Come for us long and hard~ Your loving Sugu wants it~!"

Trails of fire forming from Satoru aggressively rubbing your clit had you chortling out such adorably profane mewls. "Your precious little self can't take much more of this, sweetie~ I can feel it~ Just let yourself burst free~!"

Suguru's thumb brushed your quivering bottom lip. "Let us bless you with our essence, our very souls~"

Satoru endearingly kissed your bump for good measure. "Let us put the most precious baby in that perfect little oven of yours~"

"Bear our child, Y/n~"

"Turn this cursed night to the most blessed one yet~"

Their squeezing hands on yours had you clawing at their veiny knuckles.

"No one else but you is worthy enough~"

"You were made for us~ You kept us together for all these years~ It has to be you~"

"Our closest friend, our wife, our ray of heaven~"

Your eyes widened as their free hands left your slightly marked neck and reddened clit to lay their hands atop another's over your accelerated heart, smiling with tears in their eyes at the overwhelming sexual amour, confessing with such emotion as the strongest duo that they are.

"I love you."

Their intimate, amorous words thickened with such raw truth did the trick.

The sensation of total release brought about a dizzying explosion of feeling, leaving you shuddering uncontrollably as you reached your glorious peak.

That broke down their floodgates.

Crying your name out in unison, they once again soared over the edge, but dumping a heavy truck load this time. Curling in on you, they flooded themselves inside you, they poured their dumploads of steaming white hotness in every crevice, fold and bundle you held, sloppily pounding into you for good measure to ride that high.

Their conjoined seeds have finally hit their mark.

All you could do was take it all in, heaving and crying softly at how their friction, their hardness, even their engorged heads felt too good inside you to be real.

But it all was.

This nasty, unhinged, embarrassing – yet provocatively arousing time spent on Halloween night.

With these two powerful, terrifying, sometimes unhinged men that have softer, gentler, tender sides to them.

Endlessly devoted, unconditional and all encompassing.

With each other.

And you, of course.

❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞

Over a decade spent cultivating.

Keeping it hush hush, as those two were on opposing sides, but still kept in touch because of you.

Trying to rebel against the system and make way for the next generation of sorcerers to change this kind of world into a better one takes work. Resources. Allies.

Ergo, you departing Jujutsu High post graduation to aid Yuki Tsukumo in her mission, guided by your visions and your own heart's ambitions to end the cursed energy problem; the root cause of this fractured world.

From your prophetic visions starting in your student days to realizing your two loves parting ways, you divulge your hidden truths to them. Wanting you three to stay united. Acting as double agents in a sense. Better than being forced to take each other out in this long marathon game.

Some convincing and persuading lead to an eventual struck deal. Partners slash secret lovers, regardless of their switched conflicting ideals and surface level allegiances. While neither were thrilled at you collaborating with Yuki; her playing her own part in dividing the fine line between them to their somewhat breakup, they knew you were overall fighting to change things your way just as they were doing the same but the way they individually were best at.

Dropping in on them back and forth, from Suguru's temple of a home to Satoru's private housing to even your own apartment when you were in Tokyo, your desire for you three to maintain your bond stayed strong.

Planned secret meetups, play dates where those two talked in private but watched with affection from afar as you get overwhelmed by those four precious rugrats, late night call sessions that lasted until the sun rose, roundabout impromptu rendezvous in each other's bedrooms …

Eventually, those years became 10.

The kids grew up. As did you three.

But with time came change. Good and bad. For you sensed the divide lingering beneath the surface growing to uncomfortable lengths.

When you had that vision whilst traveling abroad with Yuki doing research.

Of that December night.

The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.

As Yuuta Okkotsu nearly killed Suguru.

And Satoru was tasked with executing him.

But willingly spared him as you arrived, their stunned faces on par with your eyes glowing and tears trekking down your face, as you tearfully embraced your one armed lover, begging for Satoru to heal him, offering Suguru refuge, for you no longer desired them fighting each other anymore.

Proclaiming that if they ever loved you at all, that you'd all marry each other straight away.

After a stunned faces pause from them both, immediately in came some touch deprived, molten kisses from both your men then watching them exchange some as well, Satoru restored Suguru's arm and promised to rendezvous with you as soon as he could, knowing he had his students to check up on. And Suguru had to pick up his girls as you helped walk him out of the wrecked school grounds as best you could.

While you have been dating for a decade, the idea of marriage popping up various times never came to fruition. Knowing your taboo relationship meant treason for Satoru and execution for them both if found caught.

But that near death experience, the second one, made you all reconsider how short your lives were and how certain precious things shouldn't be taken for granted, especially in this cursed world. You couldn't bear it. And neither could they. The look of heartbreak on your face was one neither desired to be the cause of.

Meeting up in Okinawa, among the snow covered flowers, in loving memory of Riko and Kuroi, internally apologizing for failing them to save them both when your vision came too late and you were too far away and not strong enough to aid them and your loves the most, hoping they and your dear friends back at Jujutsu High were both there in spirit, watching over you all and granting their blessing.

On Christmas Day, arriving well into the afternoon, with an awkward faced, gray suited Megumi and an optimistic Tsumiki in a floral lace bodice ruffle trim wrap hem chiffon formal gown in baby pink. Smack dabbed in between the siblings, Satoru Gojo was well suited up in his tux; hair down and shades on.

As was Suguru Geto, his hair now cut to grace up to his shoulders, right arm intact, in a matching tux, with the twins coordinating with Tsumiki on the plane ride over; Mimiko in a similar dress in navy blue and Nanako in a matching one but in burnt orange.

The impromptu modern-day elopement went underway in the chapel overlooking the snowy garden.

Thankfully, the twins helped score you an Ariel dress; a romantic cloud of matt organza, with a removable balloon skirt and sleeves, and a subtle black chiffon ribbon.

Your chaotic duo were awestruck, jaws slacked and eyes radiating with unbridled love.

Your four kids beaming with supportive glee at how you; their mother practically at that point, walked down that aisle like an angel descending down from the heavens. The girls giggling as you gave a flustered Megumi your bouquet.

Your hands grasping one of each from them as you began the small private ceremony.

Astonished and amazed that Satoru, having memorized both yours and Suguru's ring sizes, had purchased them as soon as they landed.

Improvising your vows on the spot, you three merely spoke from the heart.

The rest of the week was spent touring Okinawa, the guys treating your kids to all the joys this place gave to them and their long passed friends they consider as family too, making sure they were all conked out before your husbands treated you in your shared newlyweds suite and made sure to remind you just how much they both missed, cherished and adored you.

The rest of the year spent looking back on the hectic events leading up to that moment, as fireworks flashed throughout the night sky, the girls and Satoru cheering for the new year, Megumi and Suguru exasperated but smiling nonetheless, and you relishing being snug in between your embracing loves.

The congratulatory calls over Satoru's phone from Shoko and Nanami teemed with suspicion and reluctance whereas Haibara was over the moon for it. Even Yuki called you and gushed over your dramatic lovely momentum. All of them seemingly suspecting Suguru had survived but choosing to keep shut about it along with your kids, to you three's grateful reliefs.

A lot has changed since then.

Satoru letting you, Suguru, and the twins crash at his private home in the countryside where Tsumiki usually stayed with Megumi before he began attending Jujutsu High and staying in the dorms.

Suguru decided to try and start over, becoming the stay at home father of the group while Satoru was working and you were traveling. Still working out and training to still be in the best shape along with his girls, knowing that this new take on life would take time to adjust to as well as work on their hateful outlook on humanity as a whole.

Then a new issue revealed itself.

Particularly… Kenjaku.

Fortunately, your visions have helped you all derail his plans a lot over the past year and several months. But a millennium old cursed user was just part of the problem.

The rise of special grade cursed spirits with self awareness and intelligence was another.

So training Megumi along with Yuji and Nobara made sense to prepare them for what lay ahead. Yuji especially, with the King of Curses taking refuge inside him. But you still cherished them and the second years like your own babies as well.

Your last call with Yuki involved her discovery of the long sought after Prison Realm your vision foretold of as well as its hiding place.

The events of the Shibuya Incident came soon after. The deaths of thousands. As well as who was responsible.

After nearly passing out from the info overload, you made sure to message your husbands on the issue at hand. While apprehending slash rescuing the traitor Kokichi Muta from that Patchface's assault, Satoru saw your visions theories as proven fact with aid from Kokichi's own confessions.

Not willing to take the chance, of course you intervened.

Right before Yuki's sudden visit at your place, dropping the cube in a wary Suguru's grasp, giving him her personal request to capture Choso Kamo alive in the cube, so Satoru's imprisonment in it doesn't come to fruition as your vision unfortunately revealed as well, assuring him she'd stop by to pick it up when the hard work was done, dropping the bomb on him in her own Yuki way.

So Suguru; not fully trusting her, getting involved fell under his own personal agenda to ensure you both would stay alive and unsealed.

Of course Satoru got a text from her to give him a heads up on her and Yuta dropping by soon.

Then came the detailed veils dropping right after you two slipped in behind Satoru.

You know what happened next …

Which all leads to right now.

The walk down memory lane ended with you coming down from your high at last, easing down, relaxing your sore, tingling, fatigued self.

Pulling out their softened dicks in unison, admiring how much of their cum filled your swollen red pussy and stuffed your moistened ass crack; trickling down like tiny streams of thick cream. They released your hands as their heaving selves laid down on either side of you, cushioning you in between. Satoru's snug tee and Suguru's sweaty scarred chest.

"That … was awesome." Satoru breathlessly cheered.

"Our best one yet." Suguru hummed proudly.

"Question. Whose cleaning this mess up?" Your shaky finger pointed at the cum all over the floor.

Both men tiredly cackled, nuzzling your nose and cheeks.

"Eh, let the workers here handle it, sweetheart~ We did help save Halloween, after all!" Satoru mused.

"Besides, we have more important matters to discuss." Suguru pointed out.

"Like?" You panted.

Suguru pushed himself up to gather your discarded clothing. "What shall we name our bundle of joy?"

"Mochi~!"

"No food related names, Satoru." He was deadpan serious.

"I'd rather that than anything outdated or boring! Our kid deserves the best name possible! Unless you want them to be miserably stuck with one for life~?" Satoru prayed that wasn't the case.

"Ahem." Your reaching hand had Satoru pulling you up on your sore bum as Suguru handed back your attire. "I'd rather we put our clothes back on, go home, call it a night, and talk about this in the morning. When I'm not entirely wiped out?"

Satoru started putting back on his jacket, flirting, "Oh our sweet, darling angel, how our world turns to your loveliness~"

Suguru slipped back on his robes and kasaya garment, tying them up tight. "She's right though. We've postponed our departure long enough. The girls are waiting for us back home, after all."

"Work related stuff can be dealt with in the morning." Satoru groaned, stretching his limbs, popping them from stiffness.

"Need help getting up though." You whimpered, fully dressed but too sore to stand up.

"Allow me the honor, our lovely wife~" Suguru swooned, sweeping you up with no struggles.

"Can we squeeze in one spooky film viewing though~?" Satoru pouted, pleading.

"In the living room, with the girls. You handle the snacks, I get the blankets." Suguru suggested.

"Deal." They kissed on it to your giggling relief. "Y/n, you're something special, ya know that~?" Satoru, your husband, pecked your nose.

"Our special wife, soon to be mother of our child." Suguru smooched your forehead.

"Oh, how long will that take, I wonder~? Hehe, our bedroom is gonna get pretty occupied for a while~" Satoru chuckled mischievously.

"Hey." Their eyes looked to yours as you smiled with such smittenness. "I love you both too."

They both kissed either side of your lips, coming together in one drawn out smiling smooch, before Satoru grabbed Suguru's shoulder, allowing you all to teleport on outta there together.

Back home, safe and sound.

For your own special Halloween.

The night is still young, ya know.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satosugu #jjk au #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #satoru gojō x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x y/n #suguru geto x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru smut #geto suguru smut #satoru gojo smut #suguru geto smut #gojo smut #geto smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru smut #suguru smut #satosugu x reader #satosugu smut #feral gojo #gojo x geto x reader

[fictionismyreality3]

CAN YOU GIVE US MORE OF JASON STALKING?? I SWEAR TO U, IS REALLY HOTTTT AAAAH

I loved your writing btw

Omgomgomg hi babes!!!! You’re my first ask ever!!! You’ll forever have place in my heart 🥲 but really that is so sweet of you, and toTALLY STALKER JASON IS SO HOT HERE YOU GO

A Little bit of Sunshine

Jason Todd x Reader

Tags: stalker!jason todd, innocent!reader

Warnings: stalking, mention of drugs

Notes: I’m actually dying at picturing getting stalked by Jay 😩 like that should not be hot but it is??? If people like this I might make it into a mini series or something 👀

He was going to stop the first night.

At least, that's what he told himself.

Since Jason had come back from the Pit, being alive was something of a nuisance. Whatever weird ass magic they used to bring him back to life had made it harder to control himself in every way. He went on a year-long violent rampage, much to Bruce’s disdain, that left Gotham in shambles.

Only now was he actually putting a good face behind the name of the Red Hood. It’s not like he wanted to hurt people, but when everything was so vivid, it was hard to listen to Bruce’s non-lethal policy. But as much as he hated to admit it, he wanted Bruce to trust him again.

So, when Dick was called out of Bludhaven for some other crisis, Jason volunteered to help with patrol.

It was the third day of what was supposed to be a week-long shift in Bludhaven, and nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Sure he had broken the legs of a few robbers when they tried to run from him, but it was all in good fun.

In fact, Jason was dying for some fun. Bludhaven was somehow even darker and dingier than the rest of Gotham, and it was getting tiring only having drug dealers to play with. The rain was coming down, casting a foggy overcast to the darkening sky, and most of the sane residents had retreated to their homes. Everyone who had ever been to Bludhaven knew that nighttime was when the dangerous criminals liked to do their work.

Which is why Jason was a little astonished that a seemingly random girl was stupid enough to walk home in the dark.

Living in Bludhaven wasn't ideal, but the rent was cheap and that's all that mattered. You had been working at a donation center for the homeless for the last few months, wanting to help out the city in any way you could. It wasn't that you were trying to be a hero or something, you just didn't like seeing other people suffering. It also helped that volunteer work looked killer on a resume. The staff loved you, and quickly entrusted you with the keys, giving you the last shift of the night.

You usually walked home with one of your co-workers, a woman in her 60s named Rose. It wasn't the typical company for someone your age, but her never-ending stories were nice to zone out to after a long day of work. Rose was sick today, which meant you had to walk home alone. Looking out the window, you saw that it was already dark. Definitely not ideal. But, you had made the trip hundreds of times and knew all the shortcuts to get you home quicker.

Jason watched as the girl walked down the dimly-lit streets. He was going to just leave it, and let you learn your lesson the hard way, but then he took a second glance at you.

He thought the Pit bringing him back to life was the closest thing he'd ever get to seeing heaven. But now?

Now he knew he was dead wrong.

A soft face with pretty lips and pretty hair and pretty everything. Jason felt his heart beat inside his chest with a vigour that betrayed the dead man he thought he was. All of the lonely, unclear and dangerous thoughts in his head suddenly vanished. His breaths were heavy and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the pretty little thing walking all alone. He felt like there was blood flowing in his veins again. He felt alive.

If you were walking alone at this time of night you were either innocent or stupid, and the innocence was practically rolling off you in waves. You were far too sweet for this place. His eyes scanned the logo of the bag you were carrying and his heart exploded and regrew in his chest all at once. The kind face you had made sense if you were generous enough to work at one of Bludhaven's seedy donation buildings. His mouth went dry at the idea of anything remotely distressing happening to you.

Fuck it.

He was just gonna make sure you got home safe. That's all it was.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, Jason silently followed you as you walked home, watching from above like a twisted guardian angel. He was always on high alert, he was raised to be vigilant, but he found himself paying extra close attention to every single movement he saw out of the corner of his eye. Logic was telling him that if he was going through all this trouble to make sure a random girl was safe, he should just jump down from the roof and walk you home instead of watching like some-

Oh, that was cute.

Jason's gaze followed your hands as you pulled your keys from your bag. The fabric keychain they were attached to was dotted with tiny drawings of the sun. He hadn't even realized that you'd gotten home. Perching on a rooftop, he kept you in his vision while he quickly scanned the area where you lived. It wasn't the best, nothing in Bludhaven was, but at least it wasn't at the south tip of the city.

You had finally gotten home after a long day. Oddly, the walk didn't feel as scary as you expected. Sighing, you took out your keys and unlocked your front door, slipping inside your apartment. After making sure your door was locked, you kicked off your shoes and hung up your jacket, a yawn falling from your lips. You were definitely gonna call it an early night.

The soft clicking of your front door shutting brought Jason's attention back to the present. You obviously got home safe. He should get going. He should get going.

But he stayed rooted on the spot.

The rain fell around him, hitting the concrete rooftop he was frozen on. His helmet suddenly felt claustrophobic and he took it off gasping, the rain soaking his hair. The cold rush of despairing thoughts that he had grown used to flooded back into his brain. His heart grew still in his chest and he felt his smile disappear.

He had smiled?

He hadn't smiled since the pit. He hadn't smiled since he died. You retreated into your apartment and took all the sunshine with you. The sunshine that hadn't been able to reach his skin for years. With a sickening thought, Jason realized that he was about to make a very, very, very bad decision.

Who was he to deny himself happiness? Didn't he deserve to be happy after everything he had been through? He argued with himself as his gaze remained on your front door, trying to will himself to push away the wickedly possessive desire that he felt for you. Jason ran through all the possible outcomes that could come from.. whatever this was, but nothing held a match at the prospect of having you. He had to have you.

Fuck it.

Locking away the part of his mind which screamed at him to stop, he leapt from the rooftop, landing softly on the balls of his feet. Carefully, his head on a swivel for anyone walking by, he took out his phone. His finger hovered over the photo button, his mind telling him that if he did this, there was no going back. He snapped a photo of your apartment.

As he made his way back to the safehouse he was staying in, he could feel you being cemented in his mind. Every raindrop that hit his skin felt like it was washing away everything that he thought was important until only you remained. The image of your precious face became ingrained in his mind. By the time he got back to his safehouse, the only goal he had was to know as much about you as he possibly could.

He was already at his computer, his helmet tossed to the other side of the room. His clothes were still soaked from the rain, but he didn't care. This was more important. You were more important.

Using Bruce's tech, being careful not to leave a trace, he uploaded the photo he had taken of your apartment and began to run a search. Within less than 5 minutes he had everything he would need to keep you for himself. Your school records, social media posts, and more were at his fingertips. He took the liberty of adding himself to your bank account, hacking in so he could be aware of every transaction you made. Soon he would be the one making them for you.

Jason spent the night scrolling through your information. For once he was glad for Bruce's training, as his disciplined mind allowed him to commit everything about you to memory. His eyes burned from lack of sleep, and he was vaguely aware that it was well past 3AM, but he was enraptured reading your search history.

How to change a lightbulb?

Cute.

As soon as he could get a copy of your key made you would never need to change a lightbulb again. Every so often he would come across a photo of you dressed up for some event; a christmas party, a graduation, whatever. When he saw those photos, every doubt that was trying to creep back into his mind was pushed away by his increasingly twisted desire for you.

Jason knew he had gone off the deep end, but if this is what drowning felt like he would gladly let you kill him all over again. When he went to bed that night, he fell asleep knowing you now belonged to him.

And you didn't even know it yet.

#oneshot #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #stalker!jason todd #jason todd

[spockiguess]

Breeding Jealousy Part 1 || Peter Quill x Fem!Reader

A/N: This took me way too long to finish, but here’s the first part of a two (maybe three, no promises) part series. Thank you so much to Sav for helping me edit and leaving very silly comments on my Doc. I know my Quill fics are so incredibly out of left field, but my track record shows that this should actually be expected! So hah! Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this even if it took me a couple of days. I’m thinking of writing a Peter x Male/GN reader, so let me know if y’all would want to see that. 

Warnings: Smut, Use of Terms like Cunt and Pussy

Pairing: Peter Quill/Female Reader

Sure, you loved being a Guardian, but it definitely came with its hang ups. Be it the death-defying dance you had to walk every time you encountered another fuckhead with god-like abilities or the sickening injuries sustained from those perilous fights, being a part of Peter Quill’s infamous group of heroic outlaws took a heavy toll most days. 

Lately, you’ve been finding yourself exhausted beyond comprehension and in dire need of release. So, after much pushing from Mantis and even Nebula, you decided to have a night where you let all inhibitions loose and finally got dicked down in the way you most deserved. 

And that came in the form of you putting on your tightest, blackest, latex dress that just barely covered your ass and smearing on the sultriest makeup you could think up all to visit one of Knowhere’s many clubs. Being a planet made up of mostly outlaws, the people knew how to fucking party. 

Excitement coursed through your veins, and you exited your tiny bathroom ready to conquer the world. 

Futuristic black heels clacked against the metal floors of your shared housing with a resounding confidence as you traversed multiple floors and staircases, purse in hand. 

You felt alive for the first time in eight months, and when you entered the common area, you acknowledged Peter–your captain and longtime crush–with a nonchalant wave, barely even bothered by the way he looked you up and down multiple times. 

“Where’re you going?” Peter asked incredulously. 

“Out,” You answered back excitedly, a wide grin plastered across your face. 

With a shocked expression, Peter muttered to himself doubtfully, “Out. Yeah, right. Out,” before he spoke up again, “So where is this out?” 

Pausing just before the door, you turned back to Peter, unwavering, “Korthax.” Peter spluttered, knocking over his drink and immediately rose from his seat. 

“You’re going to Korthax looking like that? Why?” Peter crossed his arms and you sighed knowing your fun would have to wait until Peter’s little interrogation was over. 

Deciding not to answer his question for now, you teased Peter, “Looking like what, exactly?” Peter just scoffed and motioned to your body, as if that explained everything. 

Rolling your eyes playfully, you shrugged, “I’m just going out to have fun and hopefully sleep in a bed that isn’t mine tonight. Does that bother you?” 

Peter scoffed again, completely unwilling to believe what he was seeing, “Yes, actually, it does bother me.” 

This time, you were the one to scoff, “Okay, why? I’m an adult, aren’t I? I get to choose how I spend my free time.” 

Peter wasn’t having any of it and crossed the room in a few long strides, getting right in your face, “Not when those choices could put you in a ton of danger.” Peter gave his best serious face but rejoiced internally, totally satisfied with his response. His argument had practically no holes, he thought. 

“Right, because when we face off against literal gods, that’s fine. But when I want to go out, then it’s a problem. Thanks, I get it now.” You were being a little rude and extremely sarcastic, but at this point, you were fed up with Peter’s sudden interest in your personal life and how you conducted it. 

Peter short circuited, his brain literally could not think of one smart response to that. With what you were insinuating, you were right. Peter himself constantly puts you in danger, so why is now any different? 

Still, Peter wasn’t a man known for backing down against good logic, so he doubled down and got even closer, “Do you know how dangerous some of these people are? At least with the people we fight, you know what they’re capable of. Here, you’re at a disadvantage– you feel too safe.” 

You were also extremely hard-headed, so you got closer as well, your faces just mere inches away from each other, “These are your people, are they not? You banter with them, you literally call them family. And now they’re suddenly big scary monsters just waiting to take advantage of me? What a crock of shit.” 

Peter blew a big puff of air out of his flaring nose, obviously annoyed with your indignation at his abrupt prodding. Peter was backed into a corner, you were much smarter than people gave you credit for. Speaking harshly, Peter began, “Fine. You want the truth?”

You cocked your head to the side, your face sprouting a vicious smile as you rested your hands on your hips, “Yes, Peter, I’d love the truth.” 

A minute passed before Peter finally began to swallow all of his anxiety and fears regarding his feelings about you, he reasoned it was about time to let the truth flow anyway. “I like you. I mean, I really like you.” 

Peter spoke lowly, his voice a resentful whisper, “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since the first day I saw you. So imagine being me, seeing you, wearing that, and you’re talking about spending your night with some cheap lowlife when I’m right here. Now that is a crock of shit.”

Oh. Well, that certainly puts a dent in your plan. Well, fuck it, you thought. Taking Peter’s face in your hands, you pressed your soft, rouged lips against his and pressed your body against him, trying to communicate the utter want you’ve felt for him ever since you joined his ragtag band of misfits. 

Peter groaned wantonly, his calloused hands flying to the seat of your ass and squeezing greedily as he deepened the passionate kiss. Fireworks went off in your head. It was all finally happening. 

Peter’s tongue swiped against your lips and you opened them in hazy approval, letting him dominate your very being with not one complaint. 

Soon, you had to break away to catch your breath. A single strand of saliva kept the two of you connected before it broke off and landed on your chins. A fog of lust clouded your minds and the only thing you could think about was getting in the other’s pants. 

Peter was one step ahead of the curve though, and before you knew it, you were being hauled up and over Peter’s shoulder. With a yelp, you dropped your purse and your already short dress rode up even farther, leaving you shivering at the feeling of the cool air hitting your thinly clothed pussy. 

Peter noticed this immediately (you swore his brain was wired to scope out anything even slightly appealing within a ten mile radius), and slapped your bare ass, commenting, “Seriously, a thong? How desperate were you?” 

You slapped his ass in return, “Oh, fuck you.” 

“You’re certainly about to,” Peter grinned wickedly. 

Eventually, you made it to Peter’s cramped bedroom and he carefully laid you on his raggedy bed, admiring you for a long moment. Having abandoned your heels on the trek there, you teasingly ran one of your feet against Peter’s tented pants, beckoning him closer. 

Peter hastily obliged and dove in, kissing you wildly as he bunched your dress above your hips and situated himself between your spread legs. His large hands traversed your mostly naked skin before his fingers hooked under the waistband of your thong and yanked them down. 

You gasped and Peter took this opportunity to capture you in another heated kiss while his thumb slid through your slick folds and honed in on your throbbing clit. Moaning, you kissed Peter back feverishly, your hand coming down to grip his wrist as he rubbed your clit in slow circles. 

Breaking apart once again, Peter kissed along the length of your neck before biting your collarbone, then soothing the mark with his tongue. Your other hand flew to Peter’s hair which you grabbed a tuft of and tugged. Peter groaned, pressing against your clit harder, causing you to moan in return. 

Sliding down your body, Peter’s face aligned with your weeping cunt before he gave you a cocky look (one eyebrow arched, smile devilishly lopsided) and licked a hot stripe along your pussy, his mouth locking around your clit.

You bucked into Peter’s face and pulled at his hair even more, jerking at the vibrations his breathless moans sent straight into your aching core. Everything felt hot: your body, your soul, the very air in the room, you couldn’t focus on a single thing. 

All you knew in that moment was Peter’s eager mouth licking and sucking at your most sensitive spot with a hunger unparalleled. The action sent a blindingly hot energy rippling through you, like an electric current traveling through a copper wire, making you gasp in pleasure. 

Your fingers wound tighter into Peter’s luscious hair as you felt this energy ball up in the depths of your core and send radiating shockwaves that caused you to yell Peter’s name like it was a divine prayer capable of saving you from this sinful hedonism. 

Wetness dripped from Peter’s chin as your body spasmed and that energy finally released in a seemingly cosmic explosion that sent stars reeling across the universe. Still experiencing the aftershocks, Peter came back up and kissed you long and hard, his hand coming to hold the back of your neck.

Feeling somewhat devious, you gathered up the gumption to lock your legs around Peter’s waist and force him onto his back with a blanket-muffled thump. Not wasting a second, you rearranged yourself so that you were now sitting between Peter’s muscular legs. 

The outlaw was still wearing his faded jeans, so you made quick work of them by popping the button, pulling the zipper, and tugging both his pants and underwear down in one swift motion. 

Peter smiled widely, chuckling, “Eager, aren’t we?” You grinned, watching as his dick sprang to life and slapped against his toned belly. It was big, in both length and width, and you wondered if you’d even be able to take half of it in your mouth.

You were a trooper, though, so you took his thick cock in your hand and retorted, “Oh, I can be bored, if you want,” mirroring his actions from earlier, you licked a wet stripe from Peter’s base to his tip, locking eyes with him before continuing, “That is totally do-able.” 

Peter rolled his eyes, about to make a comeback when you hoped for the best and swallowed as much of Peter’s dick as you could in one fell swoop. 

“Fuck!” Peter cursed, his hand flying to the back of your head and grabbing a bunch of hair. 

Peter’s immediate reaction only fueled your intense desire to please and you took more of his length into your mouth, trying to stop your gag reflex the moment his cock hit the back of your throat. Curly brown hairs tickled your nose once you reached the hilt, and you soothingly rubbed the sides of Peter’s thighs before resting your hands on his, pushing down to signal that you would really like to be face-fucked. 

Peter got the memo and swore again before bracing himself against the bed. Not a moment passed before your mouth was being used like some sort of personal masturbator and tears quickly filled your eyes as Peter’s dick ravaged your throat. 

What kept you going was hearing Peter’s utterly indecent moans and achy whines as he got himself off, desperately chasing his own nearing climax.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Peter whined, head falling back against his pillow.  

Soon, Peter’s breath began to hitch and his hips pistoned into your mouth with such speed that it almost made you dizzy. Only a few minutes later did Peter finally still and pump hot cum down your throat as his fingers dug further into your hair, keeping you right in place. 

Peter cooed, “That’s right, baby, take it all,” before he finally let go of your head. Catching your breath, you wiped some of the remnants marking your lips and made a show of licking it off your fingers. Peter was already getting hard again, but seeing that made all the blood rush from his head to his cock. 

“That good?” you teased, climbing back up Peter’s body. Peter only nodded before kissing you deeply, you could taste each other’s essences on your tongues. 

Feeling beat, you plopped down next to Peter’s still-heaving body after wrangling yourself out of your clothes and snuggled closely, burrowing your face into the crook of his neck. Peter decided to ignore his dick for the moment and wormed his arms around your waist, bringing you even closer. The sun began to rise outside of his window, but it didn’t matter as the both of you fell asleep within moments. 

#peter quill #peter quill x reader #peter quill x you #peter quill fanfiction #peter quill fanfic #gotg #gotg3 #no spoilers #gotg fanfic #gotg fanfiction #smut #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy 3 #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #fanfic #fanfiction

[farfromstrange]

Lizzi's Kinktober 2023

Day 15: Mask Kink

October 30th, 2023

Main Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt really loves to eat you out.

Warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT (18+ MINORS DNI), black suit Matt supremacy, Dom!Matt, mask kink, unprotected p in v, fingering, orgasm denial, slight spanking, bondage (use of ropes), use of "good girl", praise, not proofread

Word Count: ~2.5k

A/n: This is dedicated to @sunaspotato because her mask kink made my mask kink worse. And since she’s on this hellsite too now and wanted to read this, here you go. (Also, I hope you can still look me in the eyes after this. If not, I sincerely apologize. It’s different when one of the people reading this is someone I know irl so I hope I didn’t disappoint with this.)

The air coming in through the half-open bedroom window brushes coldly against your heated skin. 

You never thought you would end up in this position. So… vulnerable. Hunted like prey. It was never your intention. And yet, here you are now. Your wrists are tied to the bedpost with a harsh, greyish rope that isn’t yours, your sheer nightgown torn to shreds and discarded somewhere in the room. 

You’re helpless. Hopeless, also. Your friends have told you time and time again that you trust too easily, and maybe that is true. You can be colorblind to the existence of red flags. When you look danger in the eyes, you tend to gravitate toward it and not away, which has put you in trouble more times than you can count. You have shit judgment, to say the least, so it should come as no surprise that you are in this position. 

He has walked you home before. A few nights ago, a man tried to mug you after you missed the last bus of the night on your way home from work, and even though you cooperated, you had a bad feeling you weren’t going to make it out of this alive. He was about to steal all the money you had left in your purse, your phone, and everything else dear to you. 

Out of nowhere though, a dark figure emerged. He wore a mask made out of some sort of used fabric, a little white peeking through where it kept his eyes hidden from the world. His lips caught your attention right away. They were curled up into a smirk. He looked as if he had no emotions left in him, he only saw red where you saw none, and he beat the man trying to steal from you to a bloody pulp right at your feet. 

You should have been terrified, but the fear turned into a quick thrill, and it made you more careless than it made you careful. 

“You shouldn’t be out here on your own,” he said to you. 

Foolish of him to think he could tell you what to do, but he was right. He shouldn’t have been out there on your own. 

Next thing you knew, he offered to walk you home. Him on the rooftops of the city, you below. And you felt safer. You agreed; you talked to him, and you let the danger right into your life. 

From the second you first laid your wide eyes on the stranger, there has been something so forbiddingly arousing about the image in your head. His plump lips, his tongue, his sharp jawline, and the chiseled chest that he keeps hidden away underneath a tight, black shirt. Not to mention his thighs and the ass he is definitely not hiding in those pants.

It is so arousing, you have not uttered a word about it to anyone. If you told anyone the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen saved your life and belongings a few nights ago and has walked you home from work every night since then, they would surely call you crazy. Perhaps you are, but you have no shame about it. You are ashamed that he does something to your neglected soul, something a stranger in a mask should not do, but you are not ashamed that you haven’t told him off. Maybe you should be, but you can’t possibly find an ounce in your that cares. 

Even though it wasn’t planned and it took you off guard, you let him in when he knocked on your windows tonight, begging you to stitch him up. His panting and the way he groaned whenever the needle threaded through his skin didn’t help with this strange attraction you have been harboring. 

He noticed. You’re not sure how, but he noticed that you were getting turned on by his presence, and it was only a question of time until he would snap. In the end, he did about half an hour into your putting bandages on his battle scars. 

Now you’re tied to the bed, naked and vulnerable to the man in the mask at the foot of your bed, but your heart is not beating out of your chest out of fear. It’s the pulse between your legs that is the most prominent, and the danger only sends the pleasure you’re experiencing to new pinnacles. 

He isn’t going to show you his face, he told you as much. Lucky for you, you do not want or need him to. The thought of getting fucked by a man you have no idea what he looks like is as arousing as it is exciting. The mask on his face only enhances the feeling of being completely exposed to the prying eyes of danger, and you don’t want to miss this feeling again for the world. If that makes you perverted or mentally deranged, you don’t have a problem with that. You’ve been told that your delusions will be the death of you one day, so maybe it’s time to live your truth. 

The man paces around your bed. Eventually, he opens those plump lips again. He asks, “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

“What I’m doing to you?” you question, your voice barely above a broken whisper. He’s got you right where he wants you. 

“You’re supposed to be scared of me.”

You want to sit up, but the ropes keep you locked in place. 

“You were supposed to run away,” he says. “But you didn’t.”

“I don’t scare easily,” you tell him. 

He chuckles. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.” Why he sounds so bitter all of a sudden, you’re not sure. 

You let out a shaky breath. “I’m not scared of you,” you say, a lot surer this time. 

The stranger bares his teeth for a moment, then closes his mouth again. God, those lips. He hasn’t even kissed you yet, and somehow you already miss him. 

“I can smell you, you know. I can smell how fucking wet you are for me. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to control myself when you’re so wet?” he says. It’s a rhetorical question. “You want me to fuck you so badly, and you don’t even know me.”

You blush beet red. You’re not sure how he can smell that you’re wet, even with your thighs clenched so tightly together. There are a lot of things you ask yourself, and for a second you wonder if you made a mistake, but if he knows that you are desperate to be touched by him, there is no chance in hell you will be able to lie your way out of this. 

You want this. You want him. And there is no denying the obvious; he wants you, too. 

His cock is straining against his pants. He is packed, you can tell. You wish you could see him, even just a small glimpse of skin, but he keeps himself hidden away. That’s how it’s going to be. He’s not going to give himself away, and you’re not going to protest, no matter how wrong this may be. 

You want him to fuck you, and he wants to fuck you. There is only one way this is going to end.

The bed creaks. His gloved hand meets your bare thigh, and you shudder. Your mouth falls open. The rough texture hiding his fingertips rubs against the sensitive hairs on your body. It makes your toes curl. 

“Don’t move away from me,” his mouth is suddenly so close to your ear. 

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you choke out. He has a chokehold on your lungs and the oxygen that is supposed to pass through them. 

His teeth show when he chuckles this time. It’s a breathless chuckle that sends even more shivers down your spine until you can’t feel anything but him. His breath, his hand, his body—you are completely consumed by him. 

“Matthew,” he whispers in your ear. “My name’s Matthew.”

He told you his name. Does he trust you enough not to ask questions? Not that you have it in you to do so, but it throws you off for a moment. 

He told you his name. The masked stranger who refuses to even take his gloves off told you his name. Your mind reels. You’re interpreting too much into this, but how can you not? You are completely infatuated. 

You’re infatuated with the devil. 

The heavy leather of his gloves thuds to the ground next to the bed. When his bare fingers touch you, you’re almost halfway on your way to heaven. 

You let out a soft moan that sends the heat to your cheeks. Your heartbeat pulsates in your ear. You can hear your blood rushing. Can he hear it too?

“Tell me it’s okay.”

You blink at his demand. 

“Tell me it’s okay to touch you,” he says. “I need to hear you say it.”

The words elude you for a moment. “I–” You swallow as you look at his covered face. “Yes,” the consent rolls off your lips softly but surely. “I want you to…touch me.”

He lets out a sigh of relief. This is the most human you have seen him. “Thank you,” he says. 

You open your mouth again to respond, to tell him that he has nothing to thank you for, but he shuts you up by thrusting two of his thick fingers into your tight cunt all at once. 

Your words turn into a loud moan that bounces off your apartment walls. You struggle against the restraints, wanting to wrap around his wrist, but you have nowhere to go. Your walls clench around the intrusion, but he pushes through, his fingertips brushing over that one sweet spot that has you seeing stars within seconds. And once he has found that spot, there is no going back. 

The lewdest cacophony of wetness and heady moans turns into a crescendo. He is playing your keys so delicately, your entire body locks up. The wave keeps on building until it has turned into the size of a tsunami, ready to destroy whatever is in its path. 

He moves his digits in and out of you, brushing against that spot every time he thrusts back in, and he pushes even deeper until he’s filled you up completely to the brim. He reaches parts of you that you never knew existed, and he does it over and over and over again until there is not much more you can take. 

His free hand grabs your chin, forcing your eyes to meet the darkness of his mask. Somehow, that makes your walls clench ever harder around him. He smirks. Oh, that shit-eating smirk is going to be the death of you, you’re sure. At the same time though, you want to wipe it off his face. 

“Look at me,” he says. 

You have no choice but to comply, as ironic as it sounds. 

“Good girl.”

The subtle praise makes your nails draw blood from your palms, the robe rubbing against the sensitive skin of your wrists and probably doing just the same. You’re going to be bloody and bruised tomorrow. You’re going to carry his marks.

You’re his now. 

“Are you gonna come?” his breath tickles your ear. 

All you can muster is a weak nod. 

“Good,” he says. “Don’t.”

You must have misheard him. “What?!” you stammer. “But–”

“No.” 

Fucking with danger is as hot as it is frustrating, it seems. 

His fingers pull out of you suddenly, roughly—you are left with a gaping emptiness that makes your thighs clench, and your throat emits a whine that you are not used to hearing from yourself. 

“Please,” you beg. You never beg. Not like this. “Please, Matthew, I… I’m sorry.”

What are you sorry for? You haven’t done anything wrong. But he makes you feel like you did. He makes you feel like you deserve to feel so pathetic, and that he owns your orgasms. 

He owns you. 

Well, shit. 

The ropes around your wrists disappear for a moment. A moment of mercy, you think, but he is quick to flip you onto your stomach. The bed creaks again. You catch a glimpse of his smirk again. His mask. His body. His cock. It looks like he touched himself while he fingered you, his cock pink and weeping as it stands tall against his stomach. You want to reach out and touch it, a rare beauty, a rare sight, but once again, you are disappointed. 

He flips you over, and he ties your hands back to the headboard. You’re once again trapped. 

A series of cries, “Please, please, please!” Passes your lips. You kick your feet, you say his name, and you moan when his lips travel down your exposed back. You would do anything for more, and you try to, but he won’t let up. 

This is what you get for making foolish choices. 

“Patience, sweetheart,” he rasps. His hand collides with your backside, and you cry out. The pain turns into the sweetest pleasure, making your clit throb in need. You can’t withstand him. “I’m far from done with you. You asked for this, remember?”

The way he says it sends shivers down your spine.

When his thick cock penetrates your tight walls, forcing your legs to stay together as he pushes his way forward, you surrender. Your jaw slacks in a needy moan. He’s got you wrapped around his finger and his cock, and the feelings he elicits in you are so inhuman, you get addicted. He’s a drug. He’s dangerous. 

But danger has never looked so fucking good before. 

Besides, you brought this upon yourself when you let him into your bed. When you asked him to fuck you like no one has ever fucked you before. When you gave him consent to touch you. And when you let him take you like this, you surrendered yourself to him all over again. All of you. Your mind, body, and soul. You gave it all to him. You’re his now. 

His. His. His. It keeps repeating in your mind as he pounds into you, and God, it is good. It is so good, you lose yourself, and you never want to go back. 

The stranger in the mask is what you need. He is all you will ever need. 

You asked for this. 

You made a deal with the devil and now you have to pay your dues. 

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @ravenclaw617 @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch

Also tagging: @blackshadowswriter @1988-fiend

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #black suit supremacy #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #lizzi writes #charlie cox

[theodorecanaryhood]

Dangerous Villain

Jason Todd x Male reader

Yes, yet another JT x Male reader fic, I can’t get enough of these

Warning: swearing, unprotected rough sex, mentions of blood and death

The blood stains were a struggle to wash out of his white shirt, Jason sat with a smile as the blood was splattered on his face.

Knuckles raw and red, body aching from the fight, the blood from his enemies covered him. Jason ripped his blood soaked shirt from his body. Throwing it into the fireplace.

His knife was covered in blood, his gun was empty as it had been used to its limits tonight.

Jason showed up to the smuggling ring undercover as a Crime Lord, only to take everyone out in seconds.

The smuggling ring was children and Jason saw red, black in his eyes as he killed all the men. Red Hood was retired tonight as Jason took over as himself.

Knowing a risk of being spotted, he left no one alive. He made sure of it.

The black shirt and pants pressed against Jason’s form, as he attended the gala, a recent one that Bruce was organising for Wayne Enterprises. Jason only went for the free drinks, not being in great speaking terms with his father.

You were sat next to Jason as he held your hand, your smaller form sat neatly on the chair as Jason held you in place. Pride on Jason’s face to call you his, and only his.

Jason is a jealous type and you were fully aware, Jason liked his boyfriend to know his place. To know that you are Jason’s, no one is allowed to look at you. Not the way Jason does.

Jason isn’t violent towards you, he would never. But he is dangerous, dark, and can switch sides if provoked.

You know better than to question Jason’s authority, he is your master.

So many times Jason has walked into your shared bedroom and demanded you take him in, Jason has had a rough night of patrol, or even just horny.

Tonight is no exception as you sat in a suit, shirt not done all the way up so Jason can glance at your chest every so often.

Jason had lust in his eyes as he took in your form, seeing that an older man was looking at you. Jason gave him a death stare.

You sat by the bar as the older, well dressed, rich snobby type man came over to you. A chance he’d sought after once you were alone.

‘Can I buy you a drink?’ The older man asked, you being a polite man, simply smiled.

‘No thank you, sir’ you replied, taking your attention back to your drink.

‘I’m Matthew, Lord Matthew. I own half of Metropolis Estate, along with 15% of Gotham, hopefully after tonight’ he bragged, you nodded.

‘Congratulations, you must be proud’ you responded, politely but not being too open to a conversation.

‘I noticed you earlier, you’re friends with Mr Wayne?’ The man asked, you nodded again.

‘Yeah, I’m dating his son’

‘Well, if you ever want an older man, more experience and money. Here’s my number’ the older man said, handing his number to you on a business card.

Jason appeared and took the card out of the man’s hand.

‘Thanks, but he has everything he needs already. My dick being one of them, which still works unlike yours’ Jason snarked.

The older man took offence as he snatched his card back.

‘I only give these to people that deserve my attention, which you do not, young man’ The older man barked back.

Jason’s fist clenched as he tried hard not to punch him in the face. Jason promised you he would behave tonight, but this man was trying his luck.

‘Y/n, go wait in the car’ Jason said as he took out his keys, handing them to you.

Jason didn’t take his eyes off of this man, black in his eyes again as the older man smiled smugly.

‘He has a nice ass’ the older man said as he spanked you, you shot your head around.

Before you could register anything the man had tumbled into a stack of glasses, holding his nose that was now bloodied.

Jason’s fist was red as he’d obviously punched the older man. Jason smiled a little as he grabbed your hand and walked you outside to his car.

The drive home was a rush as Jason hit speeds he would usually avoid, he charged through the streets in his Mustang.

Jason was charged with adrenaline and rage as he got you both home, Jason ordered you in the house.

‘Get in, wait for me in the bedroom’ Jason ordered as he locked the car doors.

You walked toward the bedroom as your heart pounded. Your heart thumped so hard you couldn’t hear anything else.

Jason’s form appeared in the bedroom doorway as he threw you on the bed, ripping your shirt off.

You grabbed onto Jason and kissed him as he held onto your face, feeling heat coming from his crotch.

You shuddered as Jason took off his clothes, peeling the rest of yours off.

‘Who do you belong to?’ Jason asked, hard as he stared in your eyes.

‘You’ you responded quick, Jason raised his eyebrows.

‘Who?’ He asked again, harsher than before as he applied pressure to your throat.

‘You Master’ you responded, feeling yourself getting hard.

Jason pushed you down as he yanked your hair, biting your neck.

He rolled you onto your front as he pushed himself inside you. Raw, with no warning.

‘I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t fucking walk again, maybe then you’ll remember that you fucking belong to me’ Jason growled as he pumped into you.

You clawed at the bedsheets as Jason stuffed himself deep inside you, pulling your hair again as he kissed the top of your head. Jason then placed his hand on the back of your head, pushing it into the pillow.

‘This is what happens when you don’t obey me, you get fucked raw. Do you like misbehaving?’ Jason roared as he slammed into you quickly, you moaning underneath as your back shivered.

‘No master, I’ll behave’ you panted as Jason’s dick filled you up from behind.

Jason was hitting so hard that the bed would’ve surely broke into pieces. The force of his manhood was surely going to tear you in half.

‘I don’t believe you, this is your punishment, you are mine and you won’t fucking obey me. This is your punishment’ Jason panted as he continued to pump deep inside you.

His throbbing length ached for release as Jason thrusted even faster and harder, his seed spilled into you as you felt it swim inside you.

‘Fuck’ Jason called out as he emptied his load.

You lay on your front trying to catch your breath as you felt Jason pull out of you, your brain seemed to be switched off as you couldn’t register anything for at least a minute.

‘Clean yourself up, slut’ Jason ordered as he stood up and threw a towel at you.

Jason left the room to use the shower as you grabbed the towel, wiping yourself up as you felt Jason’s seed dribble out of your hole.

You stood and looked at yourself in the mirror as you saw Jason’s teeth marks on your body, red marks where he had grabbed. Areas of your body that Jason had marked for you to remember, remember who you belong to.

Jason was angry that another man had touched you, he was angry that you entertained the idea you were noticed. Jason would never be angry at you, hurt you on purpose or even assault you.

It was these moments that you actually felt more love than ever from Jason, a man who was so dominating and overpowering. It was why you stayed.

Jason loves you, no doubt about it, but he just hates that men still think they can try it with you.

The first time this happened you almost shit yourself.

It was in a bar and a man asked for your number, not realising Jason is your boyfriend. Jason got so angry that he drove you both home, he didn’t speak to you the whole way and you thought you’d done something.

Jason lifted his hand to run through his hair, but you flinched the second Jason’s hand raised. His eyes shot wide as he looked at you, realising what you thought of him.

Jason gave you the chance to leave then and there, but you didn’t. You stayed, and every time a man looks at you, Jason has to remind you that you’re his.

Jason was smiling at you as he pulled you into bed with him, holding you in his arms as the two of you slept. A moment to last all night, where both of you wanted to remain. With each other.

#red hood #gotham #red hood fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #rough kink #bd/sm master

[jordisblogg]

shuri x spidergirl!reader hcs

warnings: fluff, tchalla and ramonda are alive.. for a little, major character deaths, flirty!reader

it was weird how you and shuri first met. she was on a mission in new york, encountering a villain, when suddenly a string of web came into view snatching her up before she could get pounded by the giant fist that was coming down and smashing into the pavement.

“aren’t you supposed to have some kind of danger sense? you ain’t see that big ass fist coming?”

shuri looked up and saw what was keeping her from falling 15ft from the air. you.

you looked so beautiful, mask bunched up at your forehead, showing off your gorgeous brown eyes and long curly lashes. the setting sun gleaming so perfectly off your caramel brown skin. and your curls not being able to be covered by the mask so they stayed down on your shoulders.

“no, but thank bast you caught me before it did”

you smiled.

“..nice accent.”

shuri let her helmet disintegrate, revealing a small smirk that was held on her lips.

“thank you”

and from that moment on it was nothing but bliss for the two of you.

it was awhile after you and shuri started dating and the public was starting to catch on rather quickly.

it would be during interviews after you had just caught a criminal. paparazzi were left and right of you, sticking microphones in your face trying to get you to answer questions.

“spider-girl, are you currently in a relationship with the black panther?”

“spider-girl, over here!”

“we’ve seen you and the princess of wakanda hanging out around the city, are you both dating?”

you would never give them a straight forward answer. simply shrugging your shoulders, pulling your mask over you face and leaving the scene.

you can’t say that you blame them with all the constant back and forth flirting between you two. what may have started the rumors is that you’ve started to develop a new nickname for your girlfriend. kitty.

shuri will never tell you, but she likes the nickname.

“easy kitty, wouldn’t want you to hurt that pretty face, would we?”

“aw, you care about me kitty?”

“like i’d ever let them come near you, kitty”

when you both did eventually go public, nobody was surprised but they were ecstatic! you both were trending all over social media.

you smiled in amusement as you scrolled down the comment section.

user37292: “not both my wives getting tg😮‍💨”

user2904: “yea we knew y’all wasn’t slick with alla that flirting😒!”

user01607: “AHHH cuties!!!”

shuri would always send you reassuring texts if she knows you’re about to go on a mission. doesn’t matter how big it is. she always makes you put your safety as a priority, knowing your desire to save and protect surpasses your need to save yourself.

“be safe my love, please don’t get yourself into any trouble and don’t get yourself killed.”

“no promises🤭! love uuuuu💗💗”

“i love you too❤️”

…

“y/n i’m serious!!!”

you love to bug shuri. it’s your favorite pass time. even though she lives all the way in wakanda. you make sure you call her at least 8 times a day. yes.. 8. not that she minds. she loves talking to you.

“hi baby!!”

“hi my love”

“whatchu doin?”

“in the lab, are you alright?”

“yea.. you wanna see my challenge?”

“..what?”

shuri loves to say your the light of her life. you constantly make her smile with your crazy antics even thought some of them make her genuinely worry for you. but she learned that was just how you were.

“y/n?! what the hell happened to your face?!”

“this guy rocked my shit!”

“..are you okay?”

“yea.. i think it makes me look bad ass not gonna lie”

you and shuri give each other pet names like most couples do. hers for you are: my love, usana, sithandwa sam, and princess. and yours for her are: kitty (JOKINGLY), mami, baby, and when you had finally learned some xhosa, you started calling her wam yedwa (my one and only)

once shuri had decided you both were deep enough in your relationship for you to meet her family, she called you to tell you to pack a bag and that a talon fighter was coming to get you in the morning.

you made sure you dressed appropriately, seeming as you were going to be in front of royalty. you didn’t feel like you would make a bad impression, but that didn’t stop you from being nervous, shuri having to constantly reassure you during the flight.

“i’m royalty? it’s the same as talking to me”

“girl you don’t count”

“ah.”

they both loved you though! tchalla was the most pleased, constantly picking on shuri.

“it’s about time my baby sister found herself a person!”

“please be quiet”

during your stay, she had took you into her lab to show you some of the new inventions she was working on. most of them were for you. you loved the way she talked about her work, the way her face would light up or how she would stay on one topic for hours. god she was so cute.

shuri would always love taking you to events as her plus one, and vis versa. the way the slick black dress would compliment your curves just right and have you showing a bit of cleavage would leave her drooling.

and you loved to see her in a suit, you’ve told her that. seeing her in a suit matching with you always brought “unholy thoughts” as shuri would say. seeing her gold adornment piece underneath the blazer and with the gold grills to match! wheww.. that combo would leave you a mess.

despite you making a lot of money from your hero work. shuri still spends a whole lot on you. constantly sending shit tons of flowers to your doorstep, buying you everything that you look at for longer than 2 seconds, taking you to expensive restaurants. it did not matter. there was no limit to what she would get or do for you.

“shuri, baby, i think i’ve got enough”

“just this necklace and then we’ll leave”

you love taking shuri on nightly outings after a mission. you both could be chilling at your apartment and you’ll look down at her laying in your lap, tinkering with her kemoyo beads, and just stare.

“..what?

“you wanna to go web-slinging with me?”

you would have her hold onto you extra tight as you both were standing on top of a very high building.. a little too high for shuri. the entire time you swung all that could be heard in the air were shuri’s high-pitched screams or her fussing that you nearly hit a building but wouldn’t have time to finish once you would start swinging again. we’ll say that was the night that started shuri’s fear of heights.

i like to think it’s canon that shuri had started to have panic attacks after the death of her brother and mother so you would always help her when she was having one or if she was and you weren’t there she would call you. the soothing sound of your voice, the constant kisses on her forehead and your soft hand rubbing circles on her back helped calm her down.

“it’s okay baby, i’m right here. deep breaths”

you were a cuddle bug and shuri loved it. she loved when you ran your fingers through her curls or traced the tattoo down her shoulder while she laid her face in the crook of your neck .when she would always ask you why you liked to spoon her so much you would say:

“you already top me in bed, shit- i can’t have this?!”

shuri stays touching you 25/8. whether it’s holding your hand or having an arm around your waist. it keeps her calm when she’s around you. she feels safe. it’s gotten so bad that she’s started to follow you around like a lost puppy sometimes and she doesn’t even notice it.

you could be in the kitchen making you both lunch and she’s right behind you, both arms wrapped around your waist as she nuzzles her face in your hair.

“i think i’ve spoiled you too much..”

shuri spends so much time around you that she’s started picking up on your lingo. you find it funny but adorable when she uses it.

“then the bitch threw me into a building!”

“into a building is wild”

when she’s not fighting for her country, shuri loves to take you out on dates. there will be things that she had asked you wayyy before you two were even a thing.

“what would be your ideal date?”

“fair or arcade date!”

and she would still remember after all this time. she had asked because she knew she was going to end up with you and she wanted to you to be happy. she had never been in a relationship before you so she wanted to make this one count. to make sure you were the one.

when shuri had finally gifted you your own custom set of kemoyo beads you finally felt like you two were official. she had waited because she knew you did a lot of crime fighting and didn’t want them to break but once she modified them she knew it was time.

“I GOT MY OWN PAIR?!??!”

“yes, i wanted to make sure you were ready first.”

you love giving shuri spidey kisses.

“why do you always hang upside down to give me kisses?”

“it’s like a reward”

you love to ask shuri stupid questions in the middle of the night just to piss her off.

“baby?”

“hm”

“when did you realize you were gay?”

“since i was born. go to sleep”

shuri’s tender headed. so when it was wash day for her you’ll need to prepare yourself for her whining.

“ow! usana, stop tugging!”

“i barely even pulled..”

you love buying your merch for her to keep when your away on missions. so her room is basically filled with a bunch of spider-girl plushies, cards and action figures.

“..really?”

“can’t help it that i’m famous baby”

shuri loves to say that your powers get on her nerves when you aren’t using them for hero purposes. when your with her in her lab and she hasn’t given you that much attention you’ll use your webs to pull her backwards having her set right between your legs while you sit on the table.

“will you stop that? i have to finish!”

“can i get a kiss first?”

people know that you and shuri are dating and they’re full aware of who you are. but that doesn’t mean they won’t try anything. girls will constantly come up to her, giving her compliments and asking her questions. one was even so brave as to trace one of her hand tattoos (she snatched her hand away quickly) . she says nothing and glances at you giving her the deadliest look, daring her to say something back to them. not wanting challenge you authority she stays quiet.

it doesn’t matter when or where shuri calls you, you always answer.

“sithandwa sam, are you busy?”

*literally in the middle of fighting a monster*: of course not, what’s up mami?”

a/n: ok going to bed. bye

#shuri x reader #mcu shuri #bpwf #spidergirl #shuri x black! fem! reader #shuri udaku #shuri x y/n #shuri fic #shuris my bbg fr😚 #ilhsm #jj’s fics

[thirstyforkeanureeves]

This is what makes us girls

Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader - smut

You sneak out while Miguel sleeps, going to the club with friends, only to find someone waiting for you when you try to sneak back. Smut at the end

The reader is a bit of a innocent girl, no serious description of the way she looks so you can imagine yourself as you want to. Will probably write a part two that's only smut

• a bit dark at points • shower sex • fingering • praise • porn with plot

There was always magic in the ways the lights shine when you get drunk. It's like the world gets covered in a veil that makes everything a bit more dreamy, a bit more interesting, a bit more alive.

But for you, a couple more shots after this point, the world always started to become cold, lonely and devoid of its own reality. Like the alcohol wanted to teach you the self-control that you seemed to lack. A couple of shots, that should have been enough. But not for you.

And now the music was too loud, too strong, the lights too bright and all over the place and the warm breeze of the night seemed to be pushing thousands of little needles in your exposed skin.

You can hear your friends having the time of their life on the dance floor, surrounded by their boyfriends, some even husbands, living the nights before the work, marriage and kids catch on to them. Making the memories that will make them smile after 40 years.

And you wanted to have that. You were desperate to live that. Having waited most of your life for a better man, choosing your partners carefully, trying not to throw yourself at every relationship that can hurt you. And that landed you probably the best man on the planet - Miguel O'Hara. The one that always managed to make you too sweet, too bubbly, too child-like just with his presence. But what can be expected of you? You waited so long for someone you can trust, of course you'll be all over him any moment you have the chance.

But sadly that moment wasn't now. And you were left alone on the table in the club, completely drunk, feeling dirty and grimy from all the dancing and sweating, no boyfriend in sight.

You had imagined, maybe too naively, that the perfect man would be all smiles, kisses and sweet caresses into the long nights. Because that was love? Wasn't it?

You were sick of hearing you were too trusting, too kind, too naive. That the world will chew you and spit you out if you continued being this way. Your best friend said it, you ex said it, your mom and dad said it and now... now it was Miguel too.

You weren't at fault for wanting to be nice, for wanting to be kind, knowing that a bit more in the world can help, even if a little. You never knew what someone was going through, so you just tried to go through life as peacefully as you could... only for the weight to fall on you now, in the form of taunts, pesky arguments, stupid retorts about how dangerous reality can be for someone like you.

He could be an ass, that was clear. And you hoped he will be able to understand that side of you a bit better, even if it wasn't now, still someday...

But not tonight. After the 100th argument about you wanting to do something innocent that he turned into a speech about being responsible and taking care of yourself, because he couldn't always be there, you had had enough. And just as he went to bed, softly snoring next to you, used to the calmness you brought him, you got softly up, grabbing some clothes and makeup. You snuk to your friends house, getting ready with them for a night of your so called rebellion against what the world thought you are. They couldn't put you in a box. You were your own person. You were free to do whatever you wanted....

And yet, sitting alone at the table, beyond exhausted and depressed of being alone in the club, you decided that maybe independence wasn't for you. Not tonight at least.

You tried catching your friends attention, hoping they will maybe agree to go home with you or continue in a more quiet, not as depressing place. But they were long gone with the crowds of sweaty bodies, covered by the dim lights of the projectors, in a world of smoke and techno.

So you just texted them that you're catching a cab and going back home.

There was something entirely wrong and lonely, sitting in the quiet cab, all dolled up and sweet as you were, having no man beside you to make you feel safe, to make you feel loved, the same way you loved him. Your thoughts continued getting darker and darker, your little soul having always craved just to be loved, held and appreciated. Why did you think you'll find this in a couple of drinks at the club? Why did you ever think you'll be good with one night like this?

You should definitely start paying more attention to how much you drink.

You stumble out of the cab, barely managing to count the money the guy asked of you, happy that at least he didn't kidnap you or worse... Maybe you should have called Miguel after all? God knows you'll have to do magic to hide from him what you did tonight. Yet as you grabbed the railing of the steps infront of the small apartment building, you wondered if he'll be more angry or disappointed with you when he finds out. Because he always finds out.

The ride in the elevator only cemented the fact that whatever he said, you'll probably cry. You were drunk, exhausted and beyond lonely. All you wanted at this point in life was to snuggle that ridiculously big and strong frame of his, make your bed there and probably die. It didn't sound like a bad way to go out.

You stood for a moment infront of the door, eyes almost empty, hazy and lost, your little figure leaning from leg to leg as you wondered if you should expect something on the other side of it.

You looked down at the little dress you were wearing. The dress Miguel told you you'll never wear without him around.

Well that was a problem...

You prayed he was asleep, prayed you can just hide in the sheets till he left for work so you can clean yourself up and forget this pathetic attempt to prove to him you were independent, strong enough on your own.

And you were, of course you were. Just not as much in the social aspects of life...

The door creaks, you shadow crawling over the floor as you look around like a lost rabbit, skin rosy, legs and arms weak from the alcohol. And you step slowly, staggering just slightly as you put your high heels on the floor to the door, almost planting face down as you tried to keep your balance.

After closing the door and tiptoeing around like a criminal, you soudlessly made your way to the kitchen and living room.

You were getting somewhat confident that you managed to be so quiet till now, maybe you'll get to the bed in one piece. You were almost cheering yourself on as you stepped on the cold tiles of the kitchen... only to freeze in place, head too fuzzy from the shots to produce a proper scared reaction.

His dark, red eyes met yours, swimming with a cold, intense feeling, beckoning you in as in one hand he swirld a glass of whiskey. His torso was bare, sweatpants hanging loosely around his hips as he leaned on the kitchen counter, sizing you up with his eyes, gaze slowly crawling over your exposed skin in the little dress, taking in your disheveled, drunk state.

And you just didn't have a reaction. Maybe you were drunk, maybe scared, or plain too stupid to do anything. But you just stood there, chest softly raising and falling with little, a bit faster than usual, breaths.

"Should I ask the hard question first, or the easy one?" He asks calmly, too calmly, taking a sip of his whiskey, tilting his head almost curiously at you. And you felt shivers run down your little frame, fingers fidgeting behind your back as your fried brain scattered to understand what the fuck he meant by that. Was this a trick question? Of course it was!

He leans slightly forward, putting two hands on the counter as if he was looking down at a child, waiting for some funny answer. And you fidget harder, eyes big, taking all of the world in, cementing in his mind that what you did was more than stupid.

"Come on, sweetheart, I'm sure a big, brave girl like you can give me an answer" He was condescending, fully calm. Like nothing was happening. Like he wasn't ready to explode any moment. Or so you thought. Whatever it was, it just jumbled your brain further, sending mixed signals as your stomach churned, yet lava pooled in your abdomen at how confident, at how powerful he was right now. He held all the cards, not like you ever stood a chance, yet now you were more fucked than ever.

"Let me help you, little girl" He said, downing his glass and leaving it on the counter with a click. He knew you were drunk. And he knew how vulnerable, how helpless you got when you drank, how you only wished to be held, protected, hidden from the world till you could gather yourself again. And as much as he loved how sweet, how innocent and honest you could be, now he could only see you as a big, walking target, waiting for something to happen and for him to not be there.

Miguel knelt infront of you, sitting on the balls of his feet as he looked up at you, at your flushed, embarrassed face, slightly lost and nervous gaze, almost chuckling as his fangs poked from his lips. "Let's start with the easy one, since your brain is so dumbed down tonight it can't handle anything"

You wanted to protest. You were still fully capable of understanding what was going on, yet you knew it was meaningless. He was a storm in a bottle, waiting for just one wrong move, any excuse to remind you who he was and what he was doing.

"Where were you, princesa?" he doesn't move his gaze from you. He never does, intimidating anyone by just simply holding steady, confident eye contact. And you brunch the hem of your sweet white dress, swallowing dryly as you knew that he was right - you couldn't answer. Not when you knew he already had all the info from somewhere. He was Spider-Man, there was nothing he couldn't find out.

"What, you scared, cariño? Oh, you should know, I'm not the man you should be afraid of when you go to such places" Miguel chuckles darkly, his eyes glistening red as he lifts his hand and pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. "I advise you to be honest with me" His tone becomes darker, words coming slow and clear as a flame burns in his gaze. "Let's try again: Where were you, princesa?"

You close your eyes, weighning your words, pushed in the corner with no other option than to dig your grave deeper. "I was at the club... with my friends"

You say quietly, voice high, coming out girlish in a way, like you had reverted back in time, standing infront of your parents as you were getting scolded. And he humms amused, his eyes still twinkling dangerously as he grabs your chin gently, tilting it in his direction. "The red lotus?"

The question is clear, easy. Yet so hard, stuck in your throat as you open those big eyes that put him in the ground whenever you did something this dumb.

You don't answer. It wasn't needed, he could read it all on your face.

His face darkens just for a second, his self-control faltering just for a second to betray his true feelings. And you feel your stomach twist, blood run cold. Not because you were scared of him, no, never. But because your gentle, kind mind couldn't bear the idea of disappointing the man you loved with all your heart.

"Miggy-" You try to say something, anything, but he stands up, shushing you with just one dark glance as he goes back to his glass, silently pouring another drink. And you felt your whole being twisting, wishing to just lay down with him, close eyes and dream of his strong embrace around you, where you belonged.

"Do you know what kind of men go there?" He asks a bit louder, not using any of the little nicknames he made up for you, making you freeze, even more guilty now.

He turns, a slight scow on his face that seems to grow with every second as the realization sinks deeper and deeper. A shit hole, a rat house, full of disgusting scum, drugs, weapons, rapists and human trafficking. Like any club in that part of the city. A place for someone either very stupid or very dangerous. And you were definitely not dangerous.

His gaze takes in your figure, sour venom building on his tongue as he looks at your exposed shoulders, soft legs, at your pretty skin and innocent features, only emphasized by that white short dress that he forbid you to wear if he wasn't there. Not because he wanted to be controlling.

Oh he knew how it looked. The big, bad boyfriend, telling his little girlfriend what she should and shouldn't do. But you didn't know these people like he knew them. You haven't seen the cases he has seen, the girls he has saved, the things he's had to do, just to begin cleaning the streets of the same scum that could take you any moment he left you alone. Oh no, he wasn't possessive, he was simply protecting you. And you didn't seem to understand it.

"How much did you drink?" He doesn't even feel like explaining to you how stupid what you did was. No, he was too tired and angry for that. His accusing tone showed it all.

You shift your weight on your other leg, his eyes catching every little movement, nose accustomed to your smell, now filled with the disgusting aroma of booze, cigarettes and sweat of other people. You don't look at him, not even remembering how much you had drank. It was a lot, too much to remember.

He looks at you almost unbelieving, finding it hard to stay in one place as he downs the glass again, leaving it on the counter and marching to you. He grabs you by your shoulders, wanting to shake you, bring you back to reality, but he just stays there, always mindful of his power with you. And you look up at him, unsure, gulping as you meet his dark eyes, see the storm brewing at the surface as he fights with himself to stay calm.

"I'm sorry-" You stutter out, broken, probably too late, as your chest tightens, unable to take a breath.

And in a heap of emotion, used to living in a harsh, scary world, world where no one will cut you slack, no matter how innocent and vulnerable you are, he grabs at the back of your dress, needing to do something, anything. And he rips it open like it was a piece of paper, shoving it off your body.

You gasp, wanting to say something, yet your knees grow weak, scared as you just stay there, leaving him to manhandle you. And Miguel lowers his face, breathing in your neck as his voice sends more than shivers down your spine "Told you you can't wear that fucking dress"

He let's the dress fall to the ground like a rag, grabbing your arm and pulling you with long strides towards the bedroom. And your small, dumb mind can't take what is happening, breaths coming in short as you try to keep up with him, tears already brewing in your eyes. "M'sorry, Miggy. Okay? I'm sorry, please!"

But he doesn't say anything, not even looking at you as he holds your wrist tightly. The only thing you could hear was the way his breathing whistled as he pulled you up the stairs.

He slams the door behind him, grumbling under his breath. And before you know it he pushes you on the bed, almost too roughly as you lose orientation for a second, brain unable to keep with the stress and alcohol. His rough hand is on your face in an instant, holding you in place as he looms over you, inches from your lips as he hisses. "Every fucking time - every fucking time I tell you what goes on in places like this! What men lurk there! I try to drill it in your little head again and again and you just don't fucking want to listen!"

Fat tears roll from your eyes. You always managed to get him angry by being too naive, believing too hard in things he knew this world will never give you... but this was the first time you ever got him to lose his temper. "Miggy-"

You sob, cheeks flushing from the tears as he hovers over you like a predator, ready to tear your troath out : "Don't you fucking start! I've had enough of your whining!"

Your breath hitches, body trembles as he huff in your face, red eyes glowing in the dim bedroom as he stares daggers in your soul. And you swallow pathetically, feeling absolutely helpless, absolutely powerless against this beast of a man.

"I try my damn hardest to protect you! To keep you away from this cruel world!" He hisses in your face and a pathetic whimper falls from your rosy lips. "Do you know how many girls I've saved from places like this!? Do you know how they look when I find them!? Huh? Do you-" He hisses so lowly, lowering further till your noses were touching. And you start feeling like you might suffocate under the pressure, unsure if it was from the alcohol, or you just knew, perfectly well knew what he was talking about. "I find them barely alive! Brutalized! Robbed of everything they are! Do you know how much therapy they need just to go on? You want this to happen to you!? You want me to find you like that as well? Do you know what I'll do if something happens to you? Do. You?"

He barely pushes the last words through gritted teeth, more than fury storming in his eyes. Miguel was a man of few words, choosing to keep his emotions in control in favor of being the bigger person in most situations. A man that had seen hell and came out on the other side.

And there you were his loyal, little girl, always a sunshine for him, always caring for him, doting and cooing at him, always sweet, gentle, kind, believing there was good in everybody.

His biggest fear, his greatest nightmare, seeing you go through what he had went through, what these girls went through, haunting his dreams every night.

He takes in a sharp breath, eyes junping between yours: "I'd kill all of them" He says coldly, not an ounce of regret, dead serious as he stares at you, shoulders tense as if he was ready to go through with it right now.

"Miggy, please" You sniffle, petrified, knowing better than anyone - Spider-Man doesn't kill, never will kill.

"I'll tear every single one of them to shreds" He holds your face tightly, refusing to look away from you: "I'll make them feel every ounce of pain you've felt, I'll make them scream and beg for death. But death will be too kind, too good for them"

You close your eyes, breathing shallow as your whole body trembles under him, unable to take all of this, unable to do any of this any longer.

And he stays there, looking over you, taking you in as he sees your disheveled state, smells the alcohol on your breath, waiting for something.

"Did anyone touch you?" A simple, straight to the point question. And you shake your head no pathetically, wet from tears lips parting as a little whimper escapes your lips. Your mind was too far out, too lost.

"Look at me, doll" He says sternly, squeezing at your jaw. And you open your eyes, unable to hide how scared, how worried and lost you were. "Did anybody touch you?"

"No" You rasp out, your voice betraying everything you were feeling, small hands fisting the sheets under you.

And he looks at you for a second, as if sizing you up, making your heart beat so hard you were sure he could hear it, feel it even.

"Why did you sneak out?" A cold, measured question, no room for lies, no room for escape.

You bite at the inside of your cheeks, chest fluttering as you fight the sobs. You didn't want to answer. Didn't want to give the pathetic excuse for an answer. But his piercing eyes left no other option.

"I wanted - I wanted to go out... when you said I shouldn't..."

"And why did I say you shouldn't?" Another straight question. This was an interrogation. He holds your face just as close, not stepping back, the heat of his strong body enveloping you. And you take in a shaky breath : "Because my friends wanted to go to the "Red lotus"

He steps back, getting off you and the bed, running a hand through his face as he breaths out, taking in your petrified form, knowing you were never stupid. You can't be. Just naive. Too good for this world.

And he knew he could be harsh on you. Taking out the frustration of his job, of the way he lived, on you. Because you were so far from anything he was. Anything he had seen. And it left him feeling powerless to protect you, walking on eggshells everyday, just thinking of what might happen to you if he wasn't around, if he wasn't strong enough.

You push yourself weakly on your elbows, looking at him always so expectingly, so innocent, like he was the sun in the sky, like you would do anything he asked of you. And you would. Because that's how much you trusted him. That's how much you loved him.

You bat your lashes at him, black tears running from your mascara, face red and open for him ro see everything. And your little figure, so soft and inviting, helplessly laying on the bed, melts all his anger away. He could never be mad at you. Not when you were so honest, so innocent in what you did.

You just wanted to prove to him you could stand your ground. That you were grown enough to be like any other person. But he knew this perfectly well. He knew you could be more than what this world wanted from you.

But he never wanted that from you. Never wanted you to change. Never wanted you to be anything, but the sweet, kind girl he had fallen in love. The girl that made him believe in good again, that gave him hope that it was worth to fight for this city. His princesa.

"I'm sorry..." You murmur through sniffles for the 100th time and he can't stand this role any more.

He cringes at the way he's been acting, a bit irrational, a bit controlling, a bit lost himself in feelings he couldn't really explain. And he let's out a soft sigh, running around his head as he thinks.

He had been stupid. Not finding a way to explain his reasoning better, to talk to you calmer, like a grown up person, instead of that letting his feelings and morals dictate everything. When life was supposed to be a harmony between it all. Even if he was right, he couldn't prove that by just being harsh and honest. Especially not with you.

So he slolwy crosses the distance between you two, wrapping strong arms around you, pulling you up in his embrace as your legs wrap around his torso and you hide your face in his neck.

"Just... don't ever do that again" He tries to say it gently, but the undertone was clear. You won't be doing it again. Never again.

And you nod, hot breaths caressing his skin as you cry off the pressure in quiet sobs, melting in his protective embrace : "I won't... I'm sorry. I didn't like it. I don't want to go without you..."

His arms tighten around you, head falling in your neck as he breaths you in, trying to push in his memory the way your soft body melts in his, the way it fits so perfectly with his.

"You didn't like it?" He asks quietly, voice soft again and your heart fills with child-like happiness that he wasn't mad again, your alcohol soaked brain just wanting to be loved and cared for.

"No... I didn't like going there alone. Everyone had their partners or just wanted to drink and party... But I always wanted to be there with you. Maybe dance and laugh and stupid things like that..."

He humms at your baby voice, showing him once again how pure at heart you were. You didn't even want to get drunk if it meant he won't be there to hold you.

"Yet you still went..." it wasn't an accusation, but he couldn't help but say it. And you push yourself closer against him, slightly embarrassed, wishing this night could end.

He knows he won't get an answer from you. Knows you did it in affect, angry after the argument you had yesterday about him not wanting you to go to a place like this club. Especially when he couldn't be with you because if his work. So he drops it, but not before asking one last thing: "Promise me you won't do that again, kay? I know I can be overbearing at moments, but I need you to understand that I'm just terrified of the thought of losing you... seeing you end up like all these women I've had to..."

He couldn't finish the thought, the words lodging in his troath as he hid his face in your neck.

You sigh softly, weighing the words, trying to understand their full meaning through the fog in your brain: "I promise"

That's all he needed. He trusted you, he knew you. And he wouldn't question it, knowing your relationship was built on trust and it should stay like this.

He held you for some time like that, just enjoying the intimacy, not wanting to break the little peace you had managed to build within the storm, letting your sniffles calm down as he rocked you gently from time to time.

"You wanna take a bath, princesa? Would be good after a place like that..." Finally he breaks the silence, knowing you didn't like to go to bed dirty.

"Yeah..." You rasp out, not bothering to get off him. "But you should go to bed. You have work tomorrow"

He chuckles at your constant worry, even when drunk.

"I called off the moment I heard you leave through the door. I knew I had to wait for your little naughty self" He answers calmly, noticing how you held him tighter at the reminder of the night, smiling to himself as he carries you to the shower, opting to make this fast, so no bath tonight.

He let's you down on the bathroom counter, gentle as always. Then he unclaps your bra, kissing your forehead as your head lolls a bit tiredly, in a drunken haze. He pulls off your white panties, leaving them to the side as he takes you again, bringing you to the shower as he makes a quick work of his sweatpants, chuckling at the way you eye him up. He hadn't wore his boxers, earlier going to bed butt naked to you, as he mostly preferred.

And the shower goes quietly, with both of you washing your hair. Miguel holds you up a bit so you don't slip or fall, looking at the way the water cascades down your figure, admiring how innocent you always looked when trying to take care of him.

Halfway through he pushes you on the bathroom ledge, taking your loofah and scrubbing you gently, standing on one knee as he works on your legs and tiny feet. And as you look at him with a shy, curious smile, he takes your feet and kisses up them to your knees, holding eye contact with you, basking at the blush that creeps up to your face.

He loves how soft you are for him, how you let him do as he pleases, just because he wants to, because you trust him. And he wants to mend what's broken, to show you you don't need to sneak around him, you don't need to hide from him. So he sits up between you legs, wrapping his arms around the back of your hips, bringing you close as he lips latch in you chest, humming in appreciation as your breath hitches.

Tiny hands come to his hair, at first shy, sweet, but he has taught you well and soon they fist his hair a bit harder, pulling a bit harsher and he means in the feeling, not scared to show you what feels good.

His other hand plays with the nipple of your lonely breast, massaging, fondling, taking in your softness as he literally suckles on you, always a bit possessive in the way he loved. You let out a haply sound, back arching into him as he smiles, lightly bitting at your nipple, fangs showing hungrily as he feels you tense.

"My little girl, always so eager to prove herself" He whispers lowly, pulling your ass to the edge as he kisses softly at your breasts, playing with them for a bit, making you squirm as he looks at the way the flesh molds for him. He licks between the valley of them, tongue sinking to your abdomen, then back up as he shows you just want he's thinking.

You bite your lip in anticipation, his hands grabbing your hips tightly, angling your body so your heat was infront of him, easy to reach. And he kisses at your inner tighs, bitting gently, leaving tiny scratches with his fangs as he doesn't pull his eyes away from your flushed face, taking in every reaction.

"You're going to be the death of me, cariño... You don't know what a man would do for just a taste of the heaven between your legs, for a second in your gentle arms"

And he doesn't wait for an answer, sinking in your heat, feeling your muscles tense instantly, pulling at his hair as he growls. His lips latch on your sweet clit, sucking hungrily, not wanting to waste time in being gentle, yet not rough at all. And he sucks harshly, moaning, tongue darting to your centre, teasing your need as he looks up, lips parted, showing you just how his tongue worked on you as you tried to stiffle a pathetic whimper at the sight alone.

"Look at you, so fucking sweet, so easy to break. What will I do with you, you little thing..." He whispers lowly, voice hoarse as his lips work on your clit, flicking and sucking, keeping a steady tempo as your legs wrap around his shoulders, keeping him in place. You arch your back, needing to grind into him, little hungry sounds falling from your lips, so high and adorable they light his blood on fire.

His right hand leaves your hip, coming under his chin, a skilled, thick finger teasing your entrance before it slowly sinks in, staying for a moment as he basks in the way you flutter around him, the way you try to move your hips to feel more of him.

But he doesn't want to keep you waiting, feeling generous tonight, he adds a second finger, scissoring you for a couple of seconds as he laps at your clit, flicking his tongue. You whine like a cat in heat, pulling him closer by his curls and he obliges, twisting his fingers so he feels that spongy spot higher, under where his tongue worked, and he starts a slow pace, before he let's it fall steadily faster and faster, abusing your tight hole, moaning against you as your whimpers grow higher, needier.

"Just like that, doll. Let me hear all of it. Love it when you squirm for me.." He purrs against you, making love to your heat as he continues looking at you. And it wasn't as much his fingers or tongue, what made your abdomen blossom with need was that gaze, that steady, hungry need in him to make you his own, this dark, hoarse tone, that could make you believe anything he said.

You nod your head pathetically, just wanting to please him as he pleased you, to be his good little girl, let go for a second and forget all about the world outside, forget about all the worries and stress and for a moment be his, completely his.

"Wanna cum for me, you needy thing? Wanna let me taste you as you cum, huh? Go on, sweetheart. Don't think about anything. I'm here, I'll hold you"

You whine like a kitten, your sounds starting to fall with the pace of his fingers that steadily grows faster and faster, fisting at his curls as your abdomen flexes.

"Yeah, just like that, baby. Let go for me, princess, wanna see you go dumb on my fingers"

You bite your lips, closing your eyes as you focus on the feeling, legs locking around his head as you hold him like a vice, hips pushing at his face, riding him as you feel the coil tighten.

"Miguel..." You whine his name and he moans at your heat, lapping like a man starved, switching the pace to a faster, more brutal one, knowing you can take it.

Your mouth falls open, a plethora of dity sounds bubbling as you get wetter, grow needier, making his job so much easier.

"Fuck, I love the sound you make, cariño. Can make me do anything just to hear them again" He murmurs, latching on your clit again, managing to flick at it with the same pace his fingers abused your little hole. Your head falls back as a broken whimper escapes your troath. And your hips tense, having a mind of their own as they tirelessly start grinding, meeting his movements perfectly and Miguel growls against you.

"Cum for me, baby. Make me proud"

You nod erratically, tethering on the edge as his words ring in your tipsy mind.

"Wanna make you proud - wanna make you proud, Papi"

The name slips without meaning to. And in other circumstances he would cringe, or be somewhat unsure. But you didn't say "daddy". You said "Papi". Which in a way in his language feels far more normal, far more fitting.

He chuckles darkly against you, not stopping his ministrations, watching you as you open your eyes to look at him, whimpering like a kicked dog, taught to always look at him as you came.

Your hips stutter, losing rithm, yet his hand keeps on working on you as your whole body trembles, mouth freezing half-way through a broken scream. And you tense so much, so harshly you lose your breath, only able to feel. There were no thoughts left, no needs or worries, just a hot wave that washed over your whole body, buzzing to the tips of your shaking legs. And the heat pooled right back in your abdomen, sinking lower where his tongue flicked so fast you lost feeling of the earth beneath you.

It was beautiful really, the way you just froze, as if pushing an enormous weight, his hungry knowing gaze prolonging that tethering till like a bottle, something popped in you, painfully, yet so blissfully squirting in a little, hot stream.

Miguel let's out the dirtiest sound you've heard him make till now, not stopping even for a second as he takes all that you give him. And your eyes cross, lips tremble, as you fist so hard at his hair you must've pulled some hairs from the roots.

"There we go... there we fucking go..."

He finally latches off you, looking at the way you let it all out for him, his fingers gradually slowing down as your whole body trembles, hunched over. And with every little stream he leaves a little kiss at your heat, enamored by the way your body craved him so much it was ready to break apart from the smallest touch.

He let's you ride out your high, your body finally leaning back against the wall, mouth still open as you barely take in shallow breaths. And he slowly removes his fingers, cleaning them off with his tongue as he stands before you. His hand gently pulls your lost, hazy gaze to look up at him, his wolfish smile making your insides twitch.

"What was that about "Papi"?"

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #atspv #atsv #atsv miguel #spiderman atsv #spider man across the spider verse #miguel x reader #smut #x reader #Spotify #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse

[fuckmysuguru]

Quiet — Suguru Geto

— CW: 18+ smut. PiV. PwP. Riding. (Very brief) mention of exhibitionism/voyeurism. Creampie. (Slight, very) dumbification. | word count: 0.8k (not proofread!)

— a/n: My first fic for Geto. I am such a Suguru Slut. Lol. If you know me you don't.

“Good girl, that’s it— ride me.” His voice is soft as a lullaby as his big hands grip the supple flesh of your ass, guiding you up and down his hard cock. Suguru’s long hair falls down his shoulders, some dark strands sticking to his sweaty face. It is incredible how attractive he looks and how calm he can stay during sex.

Every time you try to speed your movements he stops you, scolding you with a soft slap on your ass. Patience is a virtue, he says, although sometimes he is the most impatient person you have ever met. His dark eyes glue to your bouncing breasts, licking his lips and leaning closer to wrap his mouth around your perky nipple. Suguru sucks eagerly, swirling his tongue over the nub until it’s puffy and so hard it is borderline painful. A small whimper falls down your lips and he quickly silences you with a sly smirk against your skin. “Keep it down, dollface. You don’t want Mahito to hear you, right?” You shake your head at his words, biting your lip to keep your moans in. “Good girl, you learn fast. I don’t share.” Surugu continues, lifting his hips to meet yours. Your breath hitches in your throat, feeling him impossibly deep. It is not fair how easy he can make you come. 

Switching sides, he gives the same treatment to your other nipple until both are covered in bite marks and little hickeys. Since day one he had been a possessive man and what better way to show the world he owns you than with those marks all over your neck and chest? He sees the way Mahito sees you, how the hunger in his eyes burns his miserable soul— if he even has one— and he fucking loves to rub it on his face that he is the one who fucks you good. And more often than not, the thought of taking you right in front of his face crosses his mind and fuels him with a newfound desire. Suguru knows it will make his blood boil— and if he can prove no one will ever make you cry and come and scream the way he does… then for what is his dick for?

“Suguru—” You gasp, gripping his shoulders with a strength that borderline amazes him. He sees you as nothing more than a weak little butterfly, so easy to rip your wings off and turn you into a mindless puddle with his cock. “I’m gonna come.” That adorable pout makes his dick throb inside you. 

“Do you want to come, bunny?” He mocks you, raising his head to look at you with a cocky grin. His lips are swollen and covered with his spit from sucking at your tits. You nod eagerly at his question, missing the teasing edge. It is so easy to play you dumb and he adores that; it grants him with a wave of power and dominance that makes him feel alive. The slick sound of sweaty skin slapping is music to his ears, and he knows he is breaking his own rule of not being too loud but at this point, with the way your wet cunt is clenching around him, spamming with the force of your orgasm— he doesn’t give a fuck who is listening. “Do it.” His left-hand lets go of your ass to grab the roots of your hair, yanking your hair back and granting him a delicious moan of pain. 

He knows he won’t last long with the way your body is milking him, begging him to release his hot, sticky cum inside you. With a few more forceful thrusts along with the constant friction of your needy little clit on his lower abdomen, you choke a broken moan mixed with his name. Suguru watches amazed at how your breasts bounce, grunting a weak curse feeling his orgasm teetering with every jerk and pulsation of your tight, velvety walls around his cock. His sharp teeth dig into the exposed neck to muffle the loud groan of his release, still bouncing you despite the small cries of overstimulation that threaten to transform into tears. Crying in front of Suguru Geto is dangerous… he might get hard again.

Just like you wanted, his cum floods your insides and leaks, pooling at the base of his cock. He has been edging himself for a while knowing that when he comes he will fill you up just the way he knows you like. Painting your pretty walls white is what he needs after a long week of dealing with idiots. 

Breathless, you rest your sweaty forehead against his shoulder. The bite on your neck stings and you are sure he might have drawn blood but that’s the magic of it. That’s just a percent of how rough sex with Suguru can be. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

𓆩⟡𓆪 English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistakes.

#𓆩⟡𓆪 anya writes! #𓆩⟡𓆪 suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #suguru x reader #geto suguru #jjk x reader #suguru x you #suguru x y/n #suguru smut #geto x reader #geto smut #geto x you #jjk smut

[bestjeanistmonster]

How did Nicky's Sonic's friends react to him being alive and becoming a criminal?

Well uhhhhh safe to say not well

Amy and Tails don't even know who this ‘Harley Quill’ guy even is at first, Sonic did look quite different from Nicky (different quill style, being cobalt blue instead of light blue, having green eyes instead of brown eyes, his muzzle, chest and arm fur being pale instead of tan) but he does seem very vaguely familiar, but they pretty much brush it off cuz they were fairly certain that they didn’t know anyone that’s as batshit insane as he is.

To them he was just Eggman’s new lackey, an extremely dangerous one that’s as fast and unpredictable as the wind itself, the big ass hammer he had with him didn’t make him any easier, and he was irritating as hell. Safe to say the guy was a problem, a problem they needed to solve cuz if they didn’t take him down they won’t have a chance at stopping Eggman, the only reason they could even find as to why this guy was even working for Eggy was out of pure respect and devotion to him and everything he stood for, looking up to him as a mentor figure. So at least they had that answer.

Literally a week since Harley Quill’s debut as Eggman’s new sidekick and Gotham is in complete and utter chaos so they needed to figure something out fast but all throughout Amy and Tails can’t shake that sense of deja vu they feel sometimes when they fighting and bantering with this punk

Then at some point Amy gets kidnapped after Sonic gets the drop on her with his hammer knocking her out and taking her back to the hideout as a hostage but Knuckles manages to find a blue quill he accidentally left behind so they head back to the batcave to scan it and triangulate eggman’s location. They know Eggman's gonna wait to do some sort of attention drawing showstopper to kill Amy off but he won't do anything till Knuckles gets there so it fortunately gives Knuckles the time to run a dna scan

Meanwhile Amy is chained up on a giant dart board (for fun mostly) where she receives a formal introduction to Harley Quill, informing her that his name is ‘Sonic’ and now that he’s not currently trying to kill her she actually manages to get a better look at him in proper lighting with his hood down. He looked very familiar, he sounded very familiar, the way he spoke, his little quirks like the way he rubbed his nose was familiar but who-

The dna test finishes at the same time as it clicks in Amy's head

Then all three vigilantes are filled with shock and absolute horror

“…Nicky?”

They couldn’t believe it, it couldn’t be true, this ‘Sonic’ person couldn’t be Nicky, he was nothing like the Nicky they once knew, the Nicky they knew would never have done the things Sonic had done, the Nicky they knew was dead, it just couldn’t be him, it couldn’t be! …but it was, it was him… he was here, he was alive

They were pretty much in shock, how was he alive? Why was he willingly working with Eggman? What did Eggman do to him to make him like this?

How could they have left him? He was alive this whole time and they couldn’t find him

Knuckles was feeling high-key guilty cuz he had given up on finding him too, thinking that Eggman had killed him but Tails and Amy hadn’t, and now their best friend was a turned into a monster because he didn’t listen to them

They're gonna struggle to fight him for a bit, it was Nicky, he's their friend, Tails's brother, how could they hurt him?

However ‘Nicky’ clearly had no qualms about hurting them

"C'mon, where's that fighting spirit i saw earlier? Run outta steam?"

However when they try to talk him down and reason with him, tell him they know who he is and try to get him to stand down, call him ‘Nicky’ he straight up laughs in their faces cuz he wasn’t Nicky anymore, Nicky was a weak loser who could barely stand up for himself, and now thanks to Eggman he wasn’t that anymore, he even ends up thanking Knuckles for not finding him sooner which rlly fucked him up

Essentially it was a clusterfuck of a situation and Amy and Tails were devastated. But they couldn’t deny the hope that they had that they could eventually get Nicky back, bring him over to the good side with the power of friendship and leave behind this ‘sonic’ persona and just come home, even though down the line Tails’s outlook on the situation would sour and become more bitter cuz he thinks that Nicky just abandoned him for a fucking clown of all things

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #sonadow harlivy au #jeanist answers