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murdockparker · 1 month

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Paralyzed

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: She walked in on a Friday afternoon. Steve needed nothing more than to get to know her--if only he could find it in himself to speak to her.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: just pure fluff, mentions of murder (but not frfr)

A/N: no this isn't based on a big time rush song you're crazy anyway!! I think this is my first real Steve fic? The first real one I got around to posting I guess. Cheers!

It was a Friday afternoon.

Correction, it was a terribly busy Friday afternoon. Family Video was seemingly the place to be, people swarming the building in hopes of renting new releases for their perspective weekends. Steve usually loathed his Friday shifts for this exact reason, countless questions about the new tapes, a dozen or so mothers berating him when a certain movie is out of stock—as if Steve Harrington himself is the reason behind the madness.

But, this afternoon was different.

This afternoon she walked in.

He had enough of the madness, leaving Robin all alone to deal with the wolves for a mere five minutes—he needed to get out of there. With his head in his hands, he sat on an unopened box filled to the brim with different assortments of candy—candy he needed to stock sometime today, a fact he surely couldn’t have forgotten even if he tried. Only two minutes into his escape, Robin came bounding in the backroom, a wild look grazing her eyes.

“Steve,” she nearly panted. “You gotta take over for a minute. This woman is just—ugh—not taking no for an answer! I told her we don’t have The Breakfast Club in stock, but oh no, why trust the employee who rented all ten copies earlier today? Huh? How about we give the girl who makes a little over three bucks an hour a hard fucking time!” Robin was rambling at this point, the words falling deaf on Steve’s ears.

“Robs,” Steve groaned, finally looking up at his friend. “Give me another minute, I have a nasty headache—”

“Me too, Harrington,” Robin sighed, plopping down on the box next to him. “Her name’s probably Debra and she’s a beast in fake leopard print.”

Steve snorted with laughter. “Fine, I’ll head back out there,” he stood up, dramatically dusting off his jeans. “I just don’t know why the hell our help wanted sign hasn’t brought in more folks, we’re dying out here.”

“No one wants to work for Keith,” Robin said simply.

“Damn straight,” Steve pointed, pushing his way back onto the sales floor. The leopard printed demon was nowhere to be seen, much to Steve’s utter relief—he didn’t have the energy to fight her off anyway. Finding his way behind the counter, the doorbell rang out, a pavlovian response nearly spilled from Steve’s lips. “Welcome to Family Vid—”

His heart stopped.

She was gorgeous, like she just stepped out of a magazine ad—the one’s his mom bought, not the trashy shit they sell down at the gas station. Sunglasses adorned her temple like a crown, her hair perfectly falling around the pink lenses. Steve didn’t know what to say, it felt as if he simultaneously forgot all the words in the English language and stuffed seventeen Saltines in his mouth—he was tongue tied.

“Uh, hi,” the girl said softly, waving towards the frozen spectacle behind the counter. “I saw you have a help wanted sign outside?”

Steve could only nod, making a good effort to keep his jaw from falling on the floor.

“Well,” she smiled, the kind that would make babies giggle at the sight, “I just moved here and sorta need a job so…” A resume was placed on the counter before him. It looked professional—way more than what Family Video could ever hope to ask for from an applicant, anyway. Steve couldn’t stop reading it. She was literally an angel, an answer to his very prayers—every one of them. If he had the power to hire her on the spot, he’d be tossing her a green vest from the back without a second thought. Part of him was cursing the fact Keith wasn’t here to interview her this very second, he needed to get to know this girl.

“I-I…” Steve tried to speak, feeling his cheeks grow inflamed with embarrassment. He wasn’t used to being so… foolish around a girl.

“Steve, is it?”

She knew his name.

Of course he knew she read it off his name tag, he wasn’t that thick, but hearing it come straight from her lips? He could have melted directly into the floor and no one could have stopped him.

“Yeah, this doofus here’s Steve, I’m Robin,” Robin appeared by his side, seemingly in the knick of time. “Don’t worry about him, we’re getting him the help he needs.”

The mystery girl giggled. “Ah, I see.”

“You want to apply here?” Robin asked, prying the resume from Steve’s—reluctant—hands. “Oh thank God, we’re dying for more bodies around here.”

“I love movies,” she explained quickly, noting how intently Robin was reading over her simple paper. “A-and I used to work at a movie theater back home before moving here, so I know a lot about the recent releases—”

“I’m gonna be honest,” Robin said, leaning onto the counter, voice dripping with secrecy. “You’re probably too good for this place, I mean, way too good for this shit-hole—”

“I need a job,” she repeated, almost desperately. “My folks forced me to move here and I’m trying to save up to get my own place back in Chicago, I’m not built for this small-town bullshit.”

This made Robin explode with laughter and Steve shrivel in despair. She had an expiration date—a way out of Hawkins.

“Well, I’ll make sure to pass this off to our manager—with a glowing recommendation, of course,” Robin winked.

“I appreciate it!” She smiled again, the sight nearly had Steve wishing he had his own pair of sunglasses to wear—it was blinding. “Well, I hope to see you guys around?”

“We’ll be here!” Robin called out, watching the girl walk back towards the door and out towards her car. A hand smacked across Steve’s bicep.

“Hey!” He finally responded, rubbing the aforementioned spot. “What the hell?”

“I should bring that whiteboard out of retirement,” Robin arched her brow. “You’re positively hopeless, Steve Harrington. What the fuck was that all about?”

“I don’t know, Robs,” Steve sighed. “She was just—I didn’t even know what to say!”

“Clearly,” she snorted. “You looked like a gaping trout—”

“I did not—”

“This was worse than the girl who asked for a Mint-Choco Deluxe and you handed her a straight scoop of ice cream—no cone. I had to practically chase her out with a stack of napkins and a thousand apologies.”

Steve cringed at the memory. “Maybe…”

“When Keith hires her—and you know he’s gonna—you better get your act together. I don’t wanna deal with…this every day.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve waved. “Sure.”

And deal with it, she did.

(Y/N) was her name, Steve had the pleasure of unpacking her new name tag for her first day. He almost wanted to keep it, but figured it would make him look like a crazed lunatic. Patiently, he waited by the front door, hoping to see her pull up in her car, ready and rearing for her first day on the job. Steve begged Robin to allow him the pleasure of training her, given he could somehow speak in her presence, of course. She simply rolled her eyes and agreed to the shift exchange.

A shiny, cherry-red BMW peeled into the lot—Steve noted it looked awfully familiar to his own car, minus the color of course. It seemed a bit out of place in a small town like Hawkins, but the car had suited her just fine. Everything about her suited her kindly, Steve had noticed, especially the clothing she wore. Family Video was no place for a fashion show, Steve could attest to that himself, but with the way she was practically strutting towards the doors? The parking lot was her runway and he was begging to see more.

“Good morning!” (Y/N) greeted cheerfully, pushing the glass door open wide.

“Morning,” Steve managed to squeak out. He pushed the unflattering green vest towards her. “Your uniform.” She easily slipped the fabric over her own shirt, the stark whiteness of her blouse really made the green pop.

“Well?” She spun around, twirling like a princess. “Do I look the part?”

Steve could only nod.

“So what’s the first thing on the agenda? Do y’all have a time clock?”

Steve nodded again, pointing his thumb towards the break room.

“Ok..ay…” She said quietly, walking in the direction she was given.

He could cry—it was so pathetic. The way this girl had him so worked up? How was he expected to train her? No, forget training her, how was he supposed to even talk to her? Steve had been in pickles before, but this one took the cake.

“So you just… don’t speak then?”

She had managed to sneak up behind Steve, who had clearly been deep in thought. Her angelic voice alone made him jump.

“I-I speak,” Steve explained. “I just… have a lot on my plate currently, s’all.”

“I’m sure working at the Family Video is real hard work, superstar,” she giggled, jumping up onto the countertop. “But I’m glad I don’t have to understand your training through charades."

“I’m pretty good at charades,” Steve said, crossing his arms. “O-or so I’m told…”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she smiled. “But seriously, I really thought you just didn’t want to talk to me or something.”

That couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

“So… I should probably show you the computer system for rentals,” Steve tried changing the subject—poorly, but she graciously turned her attention to the computer she so-conveniently sat next to. “Y’know, because that’s like, the entire job.”

The girl leaned in, not daring to remove herself from the counter top, trying to see what Steve was clicking on.

“You seem tense,” she noticed.

“It takes me a while to get warmed up to new people,” he lied.

“What? Like a cat?”

“…exactly like a cat.”

“Well, Steve,” she hopped off the counter, “it’s a good thing I like cats.”

He tried his best to hide the redness flooding his cheeks.

She made Family Video more enjoyable, even after her first shift, Steve thought. He already liked the job enough, spending time with his best friend and getting paid for it was already a huge perk, but now that he got to know her? He might just keep this job forever.

Forever lasted only four months.

“Steve!”

He peeked his head over the horror aisle, finding (Y/N) staring at him expectantly from the front counter.

“Yes?”

“I’m dying over here,” she said dramatically, falling over on the countertop. “It’s so… boring.”

“It’s a Monday morning,” Steve said simply, commanding every fiber in his being to not shrug at the statement. “Mondays are usually boring around here.”

“Everything about Hawkins is boring,” she said, not lifting her face up from the counter. “How do you manage living in this God-forsaken town?”

“I don’t think everything is boring,” Steve scoffed, ignoring the rest of the tapes that needed to be put away. His feet were already leading him towards the counter, as if they had a mind of their own. “I mean, I doubt you’ve run through everything this town's got to offer?”

She lifted her head up from the counter, a red mark gracing her forehead. “In the last four months of living here? I think I have. Hell, the one cool place y’all could have had burned to the ground.”

Steve winced at the mention of StarCourt, the wounds still fresh. “It wasn’t that cool…”

“Fine,” (Y/N) propped herself up, head in her hands, “name one cool place in Hawkins.”

“Skull Rock.”

He doesn’t know why he said it.

“Skull Rock?”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve sheepishly said, hand finding the back of his neck quickly. “It’s the go-to for the coolest kids in Hawkins—made popular by yours truly.”

“And what exactly is Skull Rock?” Her arms were neatly crossed by the time he managed to look back at her.

A make-out spot.

“A-an… experience?” Steve squeaked, trying his best to sound cool. “It’s hard to explain, you just kinda gotta go and see for yourself.”

“Huh,” she tutted. “Why haven’t I heard of this Skull Rock until now? Certainly if it was as neat as you say it is I would’ve heard about it by now.”

“It’s underground,” Steve tried to convince her. “Not physically, I mean. It's above ground, I promise. Underground in the sense that only the cool kids know about it.”

She snorted. “Cool kids?”

“Y-yeah,” He tried to double down.

“As in, like, high schoolers?”

“Other people besides high schoolers can be cool kids, y’know,” Steve said, trying his best not to cough.

“Maybe I’ll ask Robin about it when she comes in—”

“I could take you?” Steve is quick to interject. “To Skull Rock, I mean. Tonight, if you’re free.”

A smile crept across her ruby red lips. “Like a date?”

“Pshht, no,” Steve waved. “Like a thing friends do! An activity of sorts.”

“Sounds like a date.”

“An activity,” Steve corrected, feeling queasy at the thought she may actually say yes.

As if mulling over her options for the evening, (Y/N) stared directly into Steve Harrington’s brown eyes, pinning him to the spot with such a glare. “Hm. Alright.”

“A-alright?”

“Do you think I have to change for this ‘activity’?” (Y/N) motioned her hands up and down her body, giving Steve actual permission to fully look at her. Her outfit was already sensible enough—she was here to work, after all—he didn’t ever see a reason for her to change.

“Maybe different shoes?” Steve offered, looking down at her feet, adorned with ruby red flats to match her lips.

“What sort of shoes do you recommend? These are my favorite flats.”

“Sneakers. Something you don’t mind getting dirty—”

“I don’t mind getting these dirty.”

“Something more suitable for the forest,” Steve amended. “Sticks, mud, poison ivy. Would hate for the tops of your feet to succumb to that bullshit.”

“Succumb,” (Y/N) repeated. “Big word.”

“Average word,” Steve mumbled, feeling only a tad bit embarrassed.

“Average is fine,” she shrugged. “I have sneakers in my car. We could go after work?”

—

Six o’clock couldn’t have come faster.

Steve had spent the last few hours of his shift trying to best plan his escape from Family Video—an escape that involved pulling (Y/N) into his car before Robin could tell her what Skull Rock really was. Thankfully, (Y/N) hadn’t had the mind to tell Robin what their plans were after work yet, but he knew it would come.

The minute hand finally ticked to the top of the clock. 6pm on the dot. Steve practically threw off his vest and ran to the wall clock to punch out.

“In a rush?” Robin asked.

“Something like that,” Steve said, not wanting to share much more.

“Well, enjoy yourself Rob!” (Y/N) nearly sang, now standing behind Steve waiting for her turn with the wall clock. “I left the counter nice and warm for you!”

“I know you meant that to sound endearing, but it just sounds gross,” Robin laughed, not even looking up from the book she had been reading. “Get out of here before Keith makes you both work overtime.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” (Y/N) said, pushing her pink sunglasses—which were housed in the tiny locker she used every day—onto her head. “Besides, we’ve got plans.”

“We?”

“Gotta go Robin!” Steve could only shout, pushing (Y/N) out of the small room in the back—it could hardly be called a break room. Containing a small T.V on the wall, a stack of lockers, a small fridge, quaint table and a broken microwave.

“Alright, weirdo,” (Y/N) laughed, “we made it outside.”

Steve hand only blinked, but she was right. Somehow he didn’t recall the jaunt from the break room to the front door, much less the fact they made it out to their cars. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she laughed again, “oh.”

He was sure his face was the near same color as her lipstick—cherry red and probably emitting the heat of a thousand suns. “Are you gonna change your shoes?” Somehow he strung together a full sentence.

“Go start up your car, pretty boy,” (Y/N) said smoothly, “I’ll meet you in a second.”

Pretty boy.

Start up his car, he did. He fumbled through the few cassette tapes he stored in his glove box, eager to find one she’d like. Though a thought like this had crossed his mind a handful of times, he never thought she’d actually agree to go out with him. No, not go out, this wasn’t a date. Right?

She had called him pretty boy.

And he was planning on taking her to the unofficial make out spot of Hawkins.

Maybe it was a date.

“There!” (Y/N) exclaimed, sliding into his passenger seat, showing off her worn shoes. “My well-loved sneakers! Just like you requested. How I allowed you to talk me into going to a random forest is beyond me.”

Me too. Steve thought.

“You’re not going to murder me, right?”

“What!?” Steve had already begun driving to their destination, but her sudden question had him nearly swerving off the road. “No!”

“That’s what a murderer would say.”

“I—why would I…?” Steve was at a loss for words. “If I was going to murder you, don’t you think I’d admit to it at this point?”

“No,” she shrugged, crossing her legs. Her sneakers were red too—her favorite color, perhaps? “I assume you’d admit it right before you kill me, not in transit to the murder location.”

Steve could only laugh. “You confuse me.”

“You love me,” she admonished.

Maybe he did, and if he didn’t? He certainly could see himself, though, sooner than later.

It only took another fifteen minutes of driving to reach their destination, parking his beloved BMW in a spot he knew all too well—part of himself cringed that he could admit that, even to just himself. “We’re here.”

“I’m still not convinced you’re not going to murder me,” (Y/N) hummed, hopping out of the car, a spring in her step.

He couldn’t help but chuckle, popping his trunk to dig for a blanket he knew he had left behind for one reason or another. “Come on,” he ducked his head towards a clearing, “it’s this way.”

“You really have to start explaining the appeal, Harrington,” (Y/N) said, pushing past a rather suspicious looking bush, following closely behind Steve. “This trek is nothing to scoff at.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I thought the murder accusations already confirmed that I did not?”

“Yet you still got into a car with me,” Steve said.

“I still got into a car with you,” she repeated.

As if on cue, Skull Rock, in all of its glory, peeked through the brush and into view—thankfully with no one else around.

“We made it!” Steve exclaimed, nearly impressed he remembered how to get here. Quickly unfurling the blanket he grabbed, he sat on the ground. “Come on, I promise it’s clean.”

“Doubting that,” she said, still sitting beside him. “So, spill it, what makes this place so cool?”

Steve took a deep breath.

“I, uh, may have stretched the truth a bit?”

“How far?”

“Huh?”

“How far did you stretch the truth?”

“Not by much…”

“You’re sweating,” she pointed.

“No I’m not!” Steve said, trying his very best to not look down at his pits, afraid they were betraying him. Looking back up at the girl sitting beside him, her ruby lips were twisted in a wicked smirk. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Nah,” she said, almost sounding honest. “But I also know pretty well what goes on around this rock—sick as fuck, by the way, it really looks like a skull.”

“You know about Skull Rock?” He was nearly dejected, embarrassed, even.

“I do.”

“And you still came here with me?”

“If it meant I could spend some time with you outside of work? Sure,” she said with her brilliant smile. “Though, don’t expect any swapping of saliva.”

“Then why…?”

Her knees tucked under her chin, arms wrapped fully around them. “I don’t have many friends here. You and Robin kind of are it for me, at least, since I moved here. I figured I should try and spend time with y’all before I move again.”

Her big move. The one she was saving up for.

“Back to Chicago, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Though, it’s going to be a while until I do actually move. Who knew trying to rent your own apartment in a big city is stupid expensive? Wait—don’t answer that, that’s a stupid fucking observation.”

“It’s a bit silly,” he agreed, trying his best not to laugh. “But, yeah, way more expensive than Hawkins.”

The sun had begun to set, not that they could see it, through the trees and all, but the sky was now a warm orange. The kind of color that reminded Steve of summer, melted creamsicles and sweet memories.

“What’s in Chicago, anyway?” Steve finally asked, eyes glued to the sky. The question had been on the tip of his tongue since he met her. “I mean, I never really hear you talk much about it—only when you feel the need to dig at Hawkins.”

“It’s where I grew up,” she shrugged. “All of my friends are out there, my life is out there.”

“I mean, you did just say Robin and I were your friends?” He offered, leaning back on his hands.

She narrowed her gaze, pulling her head up from her knees ever-so-slightly. “Most of my friends are out there,” she corrected. “I just… my dad moved out here for work, a job he literally can’t tell us about—my mom is stuck being some bored housewife waiting every night for him to come home, slaving over a home cooked meal, and I’m just his failure of a daughter who works at a video store.”

Steve knows that feeling a bit too well.

“It doesn’t even have to be Chicago,” she chuckled, mostly to herself. “I just can’t stay here. My forward thinking mind is too big for this town. I figure, maybe in the city I can find myself, figure out what this planet has in store for me, you know?”

“I do.”

“You do?”

“I mean, I never had the thought to leave Hawkins,” Steve said, still looking up at the sky—darker now, but still orange. “Especially now with all of the…”

How does he explain the Upside Down? Does he explain the Upside Down? No. She doesn’t need to know. Not yet, anyway.

“…you know, the missing people,” he finally said, finding the right explanation. “But the idea of going to a big city, finding my way and maybe figuring out what this big head is good for?” His self deprecating laugh echoed from under the large rock formation. “I get it.”

“Y’know,” (Y/N) relaxed her grip on her knees, “my mom had hesitations about moving here because of the missing people—afraid I was going to go missing too.”

“And your dad still moved you here anyway?” Steve still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact people would move here willingly, especially all that’s been in the news about their small town.

“I told you, big secret job,” she said, as if that was the only answer. “My dad’s answer to the problem was buying my mom a new kitchen set and me a car.”

“The BMW?”

“Hell yeah,” she snorted. “Though I suppose once I get to the city—any of them, I’ve decided—I’ll sell it. No need for a car if you’ve got decent public transit. I wonder how much I can get for it?”

“Probably less than what you’re thinking.”

“You’re probably right.”

The sun had finally set, leaving a hazy, sort of mystical hue over the rock and clearing.

“You could come with me, you know,” (Y/N) finally spoke up.

“Huh?”

“Get out of Hawkins? Lord knows I’d need a roommate. Rent is gonna be insane regardless.”

He pondered the thought. Moving out of this God-forsaken town with practically the girl of his dreams? It sounded too good to be true. “Huh.”

“You obviously don’t have to answer right now,” she said, nearly flustered. Was she flustered? “It was just a dumb thought…”

“It’s not dumb,” he said steadily, truthfully. “Not dumb at all.”

“What? You’re actually considering it?”

“Don’t ask me things if you’re not serious about them,” Steve joked, pointing at her. “I mean, it sounds pretty perfect. Leaving Hawkins, making a way for myself, trying to not rely on my parents… I dunno. Something to think about.”

She only nodded.

“Of course, I can’t leave yet,” Steve corrected, mostly to himself. “I have… unfinished business.”

“Ominous,” she snorted.

“A man has his secrets,” he smirked, turning to look at her. “Not murder-y secrets, I really can’t stress that one enough.”

“Handsome, funny and mysterious, the full package,” she hummed.

“You think I’m handsome?”

“I don’t want to stroke your ego,” (Y/N) said. “Surely you know you’re handsome.”

“I didn’t know you thought I was handsome.”

“I think everyone thinks you’re handsome,” her eyebrow raised. “Especially all those girls who come in to rent movies I know for a fact they have no interest in. Robin says you had a similar effect back at the ice cream place.”

“You’ve talked to Robin about my handsomeness?”

“I’ve talked to Robin about your obliviousness,” she corrected, “I think there’s a difference.”

He felt like his brain was melting. If he had a mirror, he’d check his ears to make sure no pink matter was dripping out. “But you think I’m handsome?” If the lighting hadn’t been as low as it was, he’d probably be able to see just how dark her cheeks had become.

“Irrelevant.”

He found the courage to scoot a little closer to her. “I mean, I think it’s pretty relevant… considering I think you’re pretty handsome too.”

Her head couldn’t have turned faster.

“Beautiful! I meant beautiful! Not that you can’t be handsome,” Steve felt himself choking on his own foot, falling deeper into a hole he knew he couldn’t get out of. “If you’d rather be called handsome, that’s fine by me, but traditionally, you’re stunning—so so pretty and I—”

“Steve—”

“A-and I’m messing this up,” Steve deflates. The crickets around Skull Rock must have been paid actors at this point. Steve made a mental note to bring a can of Raid the next time he came here—revenge of some sorts. “I can’t believe I’m messing this up.”

Something slightly wet touched his cheek.

“I don’t think you’re messing anything up,” (Y/N) said, pulling away from his face. She kissed his cheek. “I think you’re a little silly and overthinking a lot, though.”

“You kissed me?”

“I kissed your cheek, no need to short-circuit,” she smiled softly. “I figured it was a good way to bring you back down to Earth. Did it work?”

He nodded, a bit too fast for his liking. “Uh, yeah. I think so.”

“Good,” she said, so sure of herself. “You were really spiraling there for a moment.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I was.”

More crickets.

“Would you have kissed Robin on the cheek? If she was spiraling like that?”

“No,” she said honestly. “Just you.”

“Oh.”

“You took me to the make-out spot of Hawkins,” (Y/N) gestured to the rock above them. “Did you expect me to not kiss you?”

“You kissed my cheek,” he clarified, feeling bolder. “I don’t think that counts.”

“Hm,” she tapped her chin in faux-thought. “It probably doesn’t.”

“I could let you try again?”

“Oh you’d let me?” She crossed her arms, voice airy, light.

“Or I could kiss you,” he shrugged. “Dealers choice.”

“Oh what endless options I have,” she laughed, getting up from the blanket. It was only a little scratchy. “Come on, pretty boy, it’s getting late. My mom is probably worried sick I haven’t made it home yet. Probably waiting by the front window with some terrible dinner in the oven, I assume.”

She offered her hand, helping Steve up off the ground. “You’re probably right.”

“This was nice,” she said, walking back to the car. “Thanks for taking me out here, Steve. I finally found the one good thing in Hawkins.”

“Skull Rock is just that impressive, huh?” Steve laughed, his smile reaching his eyes.

“Something like that,” her smile was just as big.

BONUS: “Pop your trunk, I’ll put this nasty blanket away,” (Y/N) said, circling to the back of Steve’s car.

“It’s not that nasty,” he snorted, fulfilling her request. Climbing into his car and starting up the engine, he waited for her to throw the scrap of fabric in the back. In the corner of his eye, he could see her through the mirror, staring intently at the contents of his trunk. “How long does it take to put a blanket away?” He sighed, hopping back out of the car to join her, realizing quickly why she was just staring in his trunk.

“Y’know,” she clicked, “this doesn’t really help the whole ‘I’m not gonna murder you’ thing.”

In her hands was his tried and true baseball bat—still outfitted with spiky nails and the very essence of dried blood.

“I-I can explain—”

“You probably can,” she said, throwing the bat back into the trunk, slamming it shut. “How about over dinner sometime?”

He’d be stupid to say no.

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington x Reader #Steve Harrington x You #Stranger Things #Steve Harrington Imagines #okay fine twist my arm this is loosely based on the btr song of the same name #can't blame a girl for finding inspiration everywhere #does it have a plot? no #do I like pining and love-sick steve? yes

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chooh2 · 2 months

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♪ We end it now It ends right here, right now Please tell me you brought the iron Let's light up the sky And fade into the night ♪

Cyberpunk 2077 - Phantom Liberty

#cyberpunk 2077 #phantom liberty #songbird #song so mi #nonbinary v #oc: Devan #otp: Syzygy #yknow when u think abt it 'V. Just V' has the same energy as 'Bond. James Bond.'#also i watched casino royale this week while i was housesitting #if only for the fact that its theme song 'You Know My Name' is also what the Black Sapphire mission is named after #and it got me to finally sit down and make a james bond inspired set which ive wanted to do for awhile #promo movie poster sorta vibes!#james bond stuff is inherently thirsty right? can this be my thirsty thursday post shdfjadsf

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acsrandomstuff · 3 months

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IT SHOULD’VE BEEN ME!

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ehlnofay · 1 year

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The Dragonborn does not speak at the council, for all the trouble she went to arranging it.

She sits in a straight-backed chair at the head of the table, her sword in its scabbard resting against the stone. (She was the only one permitted to carry a weapon into the assembly.) Lydia, her sharp-faced housecarl, is seated to her left.

It’s the Dragonborn’s council, for all intents and purposes – it may not have been her idea, but it was she who petitioned for it, persuading Arngeir and then the war-leaders and the dignitaries they dragged with them. It was for her sake alone (Dragonborn, Ysmir, legend come to life) that some agreed to attend at all.

But when the council finally begins, kings and warriors crowded around the long stone table, she is silent. An argument begins immediately, Ulfric objecting to Thalmor presence within the negotiations and Tullius objecting to his objection, and it splinters off into something thorny and onerous. It takes half an hour for discussion to begin properly – and then someone says something and they’re off again, everyone around the table coiled tight and wary, and the Dragonborn stares into the middle distance and offers no thoughts.

It doesn’t stop, the talk of trading holds like game pieces and demands that the armies’ leaders be compensated for massacres that never touched them. Arngeir tries to quiet them, and Esbern’s desperate passion riles them up, and when half of the room has leapt to its feet and voices echo off High Hrothgar’s sacred, watching stones, the Dragonborn finally speaks –

Which is to say, she claps her hands over her ears and spits a Word that rips the voices from their lips and the room is finally, mercifully silent.

Her housecarl, the only one who does not seem startled by this, places a hand on the back of her chair and says, “Thane?”

The Dragonborn uncurls, removes her hands from her head, lays them flat on the table.

“I don’t understand,” she says, slow, as though the words are weighed down. She isn’t looking into the middle distance; her eyes shift from face to face like she is trying to meet everyone’s gaze at once.

Galmar Stone-fist, standing by a chair to her right, claws at his fur-lined collar. “We have –”

“Let the Dragonborn speak,” Lydia interrupts, voice and eyes steely. Galmar’s face twists, but he falls silent.

The Dragonborn presses her hands into the stone tabletop.

“Do you believe,” she says, “that the dragons will leave your side alone?”

On the other side of the table, General Tullius raises a sceptical brow. He leans back into his chair. “If you have a point, then make it. We don’t have time for more nonsense.”

Her eyes snap to him. Lydia repeats, “Let her speak.”

The Dragonborn holds up a hand.

“Do you believe,” she enunciates carefully, “that the dragons care anything for your war? None of this matters.”

“On the contrary –”

“Alduin will tear your cities down,” she tells them. Her eyes are eerie dark as holes too deep to track, and even her housecarl is staring at her now. “Only I can stop it. Until you get out of my way, you are fighting over rubble.”

There is, again, silence. Arngeir is visibly thankful for the reprieve; High Hrothgar’s walls, unused as they are to such uproar, can once again, if briefly, know peace.

Ulfric stood up sometime in the yelling; he has not sat back down. He is leaning a little on the stone back of his chair as he says, “You called us here in hopes of a ceasefire, Dragonborn. Truces aren’t made of empty air. Terms have to be negotiated.”

The Dragonborn stares him down. Her palms remain flat on the table; her sword stays resting against her chair.

“But you aren’t negotiating with him,” she says, the words still heavy, still slow. “You’re negotiating terms with me.”

There is a pause. The watchful stones soak in the silence.

“With you,” the Legate replies.

The Dragonborn’s face is blank. “If you truce, I will fight Alduin.” She speaks the weighed-down words as though they are the most natural thing in the world. “If you don’t, I won’t. Your cities will fall as Helgen, and you will die afraid. Those are my terms.”

Lydia places a hand, palm up, on the table. The Dragonborn covers it with her own, mimicking the pose of the wrist, the splay of the fingers.

“Now,” the Dragonborn announces, her voice a laggard echo of Arngeir’s opening speech, “who would like to begin the negotiations?”

(There is no shouting during the rest of the peace council.)

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ozimaniac · 2 months

Text

🌈 ｔｅｔｒａｃｈｒｏｍａｃｙ

#zenyatta #zenyatta tekhartha #overwatch #overwatch art #ow #my art #watercolor #(this is inspired by a king gizzard song of the same name!!)

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silent-sanctum · 11 months

Note

Do you do AUs? If you do, may I request Jotaro x fem!reader where he is a mafia boss? 💖💖💖

Oh anon, I absolutely love writing AUs, they're actually my specialty ^^ So I had a nice time writing this one for you. Everyone say thank you to anon for the request~ Granted, mafia aus are the fics I'm not too well-versed with, but I did my best! Hope you and the others enjoy it!💖

Lowlife Princess - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 9.9k+

3 minuscule clangs echoed throughout the darkened ballroom, followed by the screams of pain.

How unfortunate was it to think that this space used to harbor so much events may it be a drinking fest to drown the glutinous, a town hall meeting to indulge the corrupt, hell maybe even an orgy to satisfy the lustful.

Though with a couple of crimson smeared on the walls, unhinged doors cast aside useless on the floor, ruined furniture rid of their contents, and shattered glass from tall windows, the once grandeur of the hall has now been reduced to a decrepit room for slaughter.

All because the greedy politician couldn’t pay his debt.

Within the four corners, men in tailored suits stood by with an assortment of weaponry in their hands- a barbed bat, bladed steel, warm-tipped guns, etc. They remained still and stood to block every path of escape, watching their leader circle around his victim with a simple revolver in hand.

Around him, countless bodies of his guards lay motionless. All done by his hands. Red filled the spaces unoccupied by their corpses. His family was left unharmed but kept under close surveillance in case they try to flee and report.

And of the old coot? He’s bound to the singular chair in the middle of the room, stripped down to his sweat-soaked undershirt and piss stained boxers. 2 bullet wounds punctured his thighs, one each, bleeding profusely down his legs, while the last blew his right ear right off.

With the man stopping before him, the politician whimpered. “I-I swear the money was on its way 2 days ago! You can check my messages for proo-”

“I don’t give a fuck about your messages,” the boss gritted out, gripping the chair’s arms to lean forward with a deathly glare. “You owe us a shitload of funds and this is the third time you haven’t paid what’s due.”

This was also him being extra generous mostly due to this guy’s history with his family, but at the first sign of noncompliance, he won’t be tracing his roots just to spare one influential man. There are many other fishes in the sea after all.

He eyed the darkening skies outside the window and clicked his tongue. “It’s getting late. Might as well loot all your possessions and hack into your accounts to find my severance pay.” At the snap of his fingers, 4 of his men bowed and got to work in an instant.

With a cock of his head, another brandished a knife to slice the ropes off of the quivering politician. The adult immediately planted his face on the cold floor in a full bow, still whimpering. “T-Take all that I have! Just p-please let me go! I’ll find more ways to pay you more!”

The leader pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his blood-tipped gun, not looking at him. “I already let you go.”

A sliver of hope grew on his pathetic face. “Does that mean you’ll spare me?”

“No.”

Another bang echoed within the spacious area and the politician dropped to the ground with the others, a bullet lodged through his forehead.

He spared no more time watching his corpse rot on the floor and turned on his heels with the swish of his long coat. His men stood aside as he crossed through the door frame. “Report to me the details of the ‘transactions’ at my office. Understood?”

“Yes sir!”

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬

Jotaro Kujo was what one would describe as “ruthless yet reasonable”.

Being the 3rd patriarch of his family bloodline at the age of 28, he was a smart figure with a penchant for methodical violence. He had a lot responsibilities managing the Sangyosei, one of Japan’s most dangerous yakuza clans, infamous for its reputation of gaining followers through material benefit and killing traitors with prolonged torture.

It wasn’t hard but the fact that the 1st patriarch, Jonathan, established the Joestar mafia lineage in Europe and the 2nd, Joseph, in North America, it made the whole structuring a whole hierarchy from the ground up a hassle to deal with.

But it took him a couple months of proving what he’s capable of to his lackeys and enemies, until the Japanese mafia has solidified its place with its current reputation.

And while power felt good to many, he would thrive in it if he didn’t have to deal with … other matters. Paperwork. Interviews. Secret meetings. Training. Dealing with backstabbers.

Jotaro needed a break once in a while. Good grief.

He stepped out of his car, unbothered by the amount of blood painted on his long black coat, and walked through the clan headquarters' main entrance, followed by his men behind him. “Good day, sir.” Two maids bowed upon entry.

“Kakyoin, any updates on the tasks I told about earlier?” Jotaro paid no attention to the ladies’ greetings, instead shrugging off his coat to dump into their arms for wash. “I’m expecting an increase of numbers.”

A man with red curled hair decked in a sharply-pressed olive green suit stepped aside from the line of soldiers, a tablet in hand displaying the needed information. “Yes sir. Accordingly, I’ve received reports from Polnareff that whatever Takahashi had in his possessions, they managed to sack everything valuable he had in his manor and wired all his saved money into your account.”

He handed over the device into the boss’ hand as the two reached the top of stairs where his office situated. Jotaro flicked through the images of accessories and priceless décor and read the success notification of money transferred. “And the clean-up?”

“Avdol already ordered them to get rid of the bodies,” Kakyoin said as he opened the door for the raven-haired to enter. Behind them, two stationary guards stood by to shut them close.

And behind shut doors, Jotaro could finally let that menacing mask off his face for once and slump onto his chair, hanging up his hat on the nearby rack beside him. “This is the 5th time someone hasn’t met deadlines. Why do I still bother offering at this point…”

“Well, you could either say it was due to Ms. Holly’s influence on you or your great grandfather’s values,” Kakyoin said.

The boss pinched the bridge of his nose with the hints of a headache coming any minute. “Damn their persevering good will. Makes me wonder why Jonathan started a business this shady in the first place.”

“Hey boss! We’re back!”

The doors burst open to welcome a silver-haired Frenchman with the indigo suit and upbeat personality, and a dark-skinned man beside him who received all the embarrassment for his companion with his persimmon robes. “Polnareff, what did I say about keeping the noise down?”

“Ah come on, it’s just us here. Let loose for a bit.”

Aside from his numerous men working for him, Jotaro kept a close circle of guards around him, those who had better skills and attributes than the rest. Kakyoin, the one who offered his services in exchange for protection from the Kyuketsuki clan, was the one responsible directing his orders to the others and the one who obtains details about almost everything.

Polnareff and Avdol were both transferred from the American branch under the instructions of Joseph Joestar. Those two shared the same role of leading selected groups of men to do Jotaro’s bidding.

Years of working together had granted these 3 adults privilege to be informal with their leader and the latter to be more lenient towards them. However, they all knew very well not too take his generosity for granted.

“Well… what’s next on the itinerary boss?” Pol asked, reaching into his suit to pull out a lighter for a smoke. With his cigarette lit, he tossed the silver item into Jotaro’s waiting hand.

“Imports from Italy are scheduled to arrive at the docks tomorrow dawn.” He brought the small flame to the tip of his cigarette and flicked the lid close with a tiny clang. Blowing out a puff of smoke, he continued. “But I’ve also heard that bastard’s planning a raid to get rid of the stationed guards and loot all the guns from their crates.”

“Should we inform them of the attack?” Avdol spoke out.

“No need. I already phoned the captain of the ship to change the time of arrival from dawn to late evening. Those who were standing by have already received the new schedule and to prepare themselves in the probable case Brando’s lackeys do proceed with the raid.” The leader said, eyeing the map and other paperwork on his desk.

“And the cops?”

“Sent representatives to deal with them. If they do what they’re told accordingly, then we’re in the clear.”

All three nodded. “How about you,” Kakyoin said. “Are you coming with us to inspect the imports?”

Jotaro huffed and pressed the cigarette butt against the image of a blond man smirking at him through the photo.

The cool surface of his revolver grew prominent as he said with a sneer. “Wouldn’t miss an opportunity to take him down along with his bloodthirsty crew.”

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬

It was 11:30 in the evening and Jotaro walked through the alleyways leading to the docks with his men trailing behind him.

Prior to his departure from headquarters, he asked for any details if any sudden appearances transpired between 5 to 6 in the morning. Reports told him that several men did arrive fully armed with weapons, bearing the fang and blood tattoos on their skin.

And they were dispatched of at first sight.

Throughout the rest of the day, the raven-haired’s guards continued to monitor the area with sharp eyes, just in case the bastard tried to sneak another raid in an attempt to claim territory. He had another group of guards keeping an eye on nearby windows just in case someone dared to take him out in the clear.

But he arrived at the place the same time the ship delivered his goods with the captain and his crew members lowering the last of them onto the pavement. Around him, his men dispersed to secure the area and stood guard while their leader approached further.

The nearby street light allowed him to glance down and notice the visible red smears still on the wood panels below him and on those surrounding the landing docks. There’s the confirmation.

Though as he was about to move past the two buildings, Avdol spoke behind him. “Boss, you should stay hidden for now. Just so you wouldn’t feel too exposed.”

Jotaro regarded him for a split second and gave one nod. “Open them then but I still plan to have a personal talk to the captain after they load the goods.”

“We’ll just inform about your request to see him. Where shall the meeting take place?” Kakyoin said.

“Bring him to the nearest room here. Clear the area and make sure no one is around. I’d rather meet back at HQ but I know the captain has a tight schedule to follow.”

No further questions were asked and together with his two other personal guards, the red-haired turned to his tablet and went off around the corner.

Jotaro watched Polnareff and Avdol order people to open the crates, and felt satisfaction fill him as soon as he saw the items lifted from the sea of white Styrofoam- Beretta PM12 and MAC-10 sub-machine guns, Beretta 92 and Staccato CS handguns, numerous batches of ammunition, combat knives, bulletproof vests, and a couple of expensive wines and pasta as courtesy from Giorno Giovanna, Passione’s mafia boss- a subset branch of the Joestar business that Jotaro made connections with beforehand.

He shoved a hand into his pant pocket and had the other reach for his phone, informing his assistant to make sure the transaction wired to the young blond end up in success.

Though as he finished with the call, a commotion occurred in the direction of where he came from. He turned to see what caused the ruckus and stepped one foot back at the pack of rats worming around him.

Tiny scattering footsteps grew into regular human footsteps, echoing louder as it drew close. Jotaro reached for his revolver in an instant-

Only for a woman to jump out of the shadows in a panic and grab him with no ounce of decency, hiding behind him. “Help! Help me please!” The fuck? Informing his men of the intruder should be done by now, but she continued to point into the alleyway. “Some thugs are chasing me down! Hide me please!”

On cue, a couple more footsteps could be heard from a distance alongside the audible squabbling of men stating that they heard someone run here. Jotaro kept a firm stance and fixed his attention to the growing noise until a mob of 15 men came barging in with flushed faces and rabid mouths.

He gave one quick scan down their body to find the semblance of some tattoos belonging to a clan only to find none. The leader cocked his head. Just a bunch of predators I see.

One of them walked in front with a bottle of sake in hand with a hiccup. “Oi… you there… I think you should give her to us.”

“Why should I?”

The drunk laughed, turning to his fellow drunkards. “Would you look at this punk?” He spat on the ground. “You gonna regret denying us-”

“Take one step forward and you’ll be the one regretting.” The guy gave one last chuckle and put one foot forward-

Bang.

The sound rang throughout the alley, followed by the dull thud of his body collapsing onto the ground with a bullet wound in his head. Behind him, the woman yelped as she covered her ears from the sudden shot. The remaining mob staggered back in shock.

As if he wasn’t stupid enough, two more of them ran to the yakuza leader’s direction in a blind fit of rage, only for them to meet the same fate as the first with two more blasts of his revolver.

The rest of them cowered at the sight of their fallen brethren and froze on the spot. Behind Jotaro, his own men came running in at the sound of gunfire, and the rushing footsteps were enough for the mob to make a run for it. “Gun them down. All of them and make sure no one escapes.”

No response was needed as Polnareff charged into the shadows with his line of men, while Avdol and Kakyoin remained by their leader’s side.

“You…”

He grabbed the lady’s wrist and kept her securely in his grasp. “You’re coming with us to HQ to sort this little ‘mess’ you brought in today.”

She said nothing but offered him furrowed brows and a scowl in exchange.

“Kakyoin, have the captain wait for one of my calls and tell Polnareff to return as soon as they’re dealt with. And Avdol, secure the imports and bring them to base as soon as possible.”

“I have… other matters to deal with right now.”

Just as they retreated back into the shadows, the resounding gunshots echoed through the night.

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬

“Why am I dragged into this?” she said as she stood in the middle of the room, constantly glancing at the men watching her. “I’m the one being chased down yet somehow I’m also guilty enough to be here?”

“You’re here because you trespassed into yakuza territory and grabbed me unceremoniously that would have ended you dead like your chasers,” Jotaro said in return, leaning against his chair. “Consider yourself lucky that I left you alive.”

“Okay fine! I get it was rude for me to just throw myself to you out of nowhere and I’m thankful that you didn’t shoot me immediately,” she rambled on but the leader merely cocked a disinterested brow. “I’ll stop talking then. What do you want? Why did you bring me here in the first place?”

“Bold words for someone trapped in a lion’s den,” Pol spoke up, chuckling.

To which the woman averted her gaze to him with intentional judgment. “First time? What are you gonna do? Shoot me?” The Frenchman spluttered and reached for his gun, only for Avdol to stop him with a visible ‘what are you doing’ look to his face.

“Let’s start things of with some basic details about yourself. Start with your name-”

“Now why the hell would why-”

Multiple guns pointed to her, causing her to shut up with arms up in the air. “Your name, age, and occupation.”

Jotaro heard the lady mumble to herself before heaving a sigh and answering his query. “Y/N. 27. Investigator. You can check my pockets for my ID or badge or whatever.”

Avdol did what she said and found her identification card and badge, both having her in the pictures clear as day. “An informant and detective..,” the Egyptian muttered. “Boss, if we consider her occupation and… distasteful behavior, this could spell trouble for us in the long run.”

“Distasteful?!”

“I hear you Avdol, though with the information learned, we might be able to benefit from it as well.” The raven-haired turned to the woman as he poured himself a glass of imported whiskey. “I presume you’re smart enough to know that by having one yakuza clan save you from those drunks, you’re indebted to us.”

A rebuttal wanted to leave her mouth but with a swallow, she nodded. “Should’ve expected it.”

“You have two choices,” the clan leader presented a wad of bills and a pistol on his desk. “You pay us about 1 000 000 yen for our job and for you to shut up about this whole ordeal-”

“What?! But I don’t have that much mon-”

“Or,” Jotaro held up a hand, not finished with his sentence. “Offer your services to the Sangyosei Clan.”

All three of his personal men turned to him with surprise. Even Y/N widened her eyes at the choice of words. “B-Boss what?”

“Couldn’t we at least just make her one of our eyes in the city?” Kakyoin butted in. “We’ll just make sure she doesn’t end up spilling intel about the underground.”

“It won’t be permanent,” he said in return. “Only for a year or for how long I deem it to be.”

“Does she even know how to fight? Our job isn’t exactly a walk in the park.” Polnareff added to the cherry-haired’s concerns.

“That’s for us to see.” Jotaro snapped his fingers, prompting the attention of everyone in the room. “With the exception of my personal guards, I order for every man in this room to attack her. No guns or blades.”

The lady was appalled at the sudden decision and took in all 6 suited men with their fists up, ready to charge. She made sure to turn to the boss and cocked her head, tonguing the inside of her cheek. “Asshole.”

Admittedly, he didn’t know what to expect but he was curious on how developed she was in terms of combat. At the first advance of a guard, Y/N stepped to the side and elbowed the guy in the ribs, before dodging another incoming punch aimed for her face.

In return, she returned the favor and swept a kick on his knees, toppling him down. On her feet again, she lunged forward to the next guard, grabbed his arm, and twisted around, eliciting a yell from the man. Planting her foot on his back, she launched the guard onto the other one, knocking them both down.

With nimble feet and quick reflexes, she evaded the swings the remaining men had for her. Though, at an opening, Y/N ducked through them and landed a direct chop to one guard’s nape, dodging the last one’s last attempt at a jab. With his momentum lost, she returned the punch with one of her own, delivering a blow straight to his face.

To her luck, she was near the boss’s desk and with no hesitation, went for the pistol and aimed the gun at Jotaro.

“Boss!”

But the raven-haired only smirked, watching as Y/N tried to pull the trigger only for nothing but a dull click to come out. “Impressive. You’ve indeed excelled in your combat training for you to handle 6 grown men with no weapon… aside from reaching the fake model to shoot me with.”

“How’d you-”

“Quick look into your online profile and messages addressed to martial art trainers both new and old will do wonders in providing me information. Combined with your fearless attitude and your chosen career path, one could put two and two together.”

In a flash, Y/N yelped as he swiped the fake gun off her hand in a second, and pointed his revolver to her in the next. “Makes me wonder why you couldn’t fend off the bastards in the alleyways.”

“They were more than double of the men you have in this room, most armed with something. Even I have my limits boss-nim,” she scowled.

Jotaro huffed and gestured for Polnareff and Avdol to move. “Take her to her quarters. I’ll have my men fetch your essentials from your residence and you can start training tomorrow.”

Y/N clicked her tongue with irritation, but allowed the two guards to bring her to the ordered location. At their exit, he exhaled one long sigh, removing his hat to run his fingers through his black curls.

“I hope you know what you’re doing…” Kakyoin muttered quietly.

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬

What was promised to be a year or two turned to five.

And the next thing Jotaro knew was that Y/N rose in ranks, earning her a spot in his close circle of guards alongside the three men.

She was his right hand man.

And in an unexpected turn of events, he had strange fondness for her.

He could still remember how she performed during her first few weeks at headquarters despite her initial wish of just wanting to get out of her unfortunate situation. The leader had watched her sessions and monitored her performances.

He had to give it to this lady- she knew her way with weaponry as she was with physical combat.

She had near to perfect aim whenever she shot with the gun of her choice, had prowess in handling knives around their test dummies, and had able to withstand daily endurance tests that checked how good her stamina was.

With further research, Jotaro found out that you were an honors graduate at a police university that just so happened to have a club centered around martial arts. He double checked the images depicting her in the institute’s uniforms, scanned several lists she was in.

In every single one, she was there and he didn’t have to search further when her name would often be among the top students.

No wonder Y/N had no issues talking with criminals at their home base.

As days passed and she was given her own set of suits post training period, she was allowed in fulfilling assignments and thus followed orders from either Polnareff and Avdol to made sure whatever was asked was done, may it be to keep watch on a specified target, gun down non-compliant debtors, or secure an important object from a neighboring prefecture.

In the process, Y/N managed to be close friends with the two group leaders and his assistant:

“Hey you know, you’re not that bad as I initially thought.” Polnareff laughed, patting Y/N’s back.

“Really? But I do recall you wanting to shoot me when I was extra bratty that day…”

“Well who wouldn’t? Besides, you’re cool now. You do your job as a goon pretty well!”

She scoffed with a smile and a glass of alcohol in hand. They did come from a new mission to kill a new target and now they’re here in a small pub with blood splattered clothes. “Now that I think of it, I’d be annoyed by myself too, but… you’re right. After all, I do my job the best to my capabilities. Whatever it is.”

“To that I give my cheers to.”

“Is everything secured?”

“Hm, with Group A having returned fully loaded from floors 3 and 4 and Group B having cleared ground and 2nd floor and have helped with the other men, then I’d consider this a successful raid.”

Avdol smiled to himself, contented with a cleared task. “Though I have to say, it’s quite surprising that the Viper gang had several meditation books kept in one of the shelves.”

“And you’re saying this why?”

“Well, outside the bloodshed stress that I found myself in, I’d take most of my free time meditating in my room.”

“A zen person I see,” Y/N chuckled. “I figured you’d be one to let out some pent-up hassle through relaxing means.”

She crossed her arms and sighed. “I doubt our job won’t get any easier so Avdol-san,” you brought up one of the gang’s meditation books for the dark-skinned man to see. “Mind teaching me some of these relaxing methods you’ve mastered?”

With the rest of Jotaro’s men now heading back, the red-haired had stalled for a moment in the area of the interview to record the details of the events, making him more vulnerable to potential-

“Kakyoin!”

He turned around in shock at the sudden ambush of enemies heading straight for him. Though the guy had his gun prepared, he wouldn’t last too long. He pocketed his tablet in an instant and shot a couple of men down.

Y/N made the risk of running back into the fray to pull Kakyoin out of the line of fire. However, in the process of doing so, two bullets grazed her thigh and bicep, causing her to grunt in pain. “Shit! What the hell were you doing just standing there, you idiot?!”

Still on the run and frantic, the assistant reached for his phone to call for the men to return immediately, emphasizing the injury of his companion.

They ducked into the many lines of trees and hid themselves in a small cave hidden underneath moss-covered rocks and shrubs. “If your call did make it through and we keep quiet here, then we’ll make it out here alive.”

“Why’d you save me? You were already out of danger’s reach.”

She stared at him, stunned as if he spoke a different language. “Are you kidding? Don’t you know how mafia rules work? And I’m saying this as someone who’s newer to the clan.” She rose an arm to swat him, but forgot about her wound that she hissed in pain. “No one leaves brethren behind.”

Kakyoin pulled out a handkerchief to temporarily bandage the wounded spot. Y/N offered her own to deal with the one on her thigh. Just then, he let out a silent chuckle and she stared at him with confusion. “You’re right. I get too invested in my job too much that I tend to forget the most common of senses.”

She rolled her eyes with a disbelieving smile. “You sir are indeed an idiot.”

Beyond their small hideout, multiple rounds of gunfire rang throughout the forest together with the panicked screams of the attackers. “You’re gonna tell this to the boss, aren’t you?”

His acquaintance leaned on her good arm and responded with a cheeky smile.

Naturally, months of working together would eventually lead the once-hostile investigator to befriend his tightly-knit circle through violent yet worthwhile experiences. But Jotaro had also expected that organic growth of kinship to extend farther, stretching from his three personal guards to him directly.

Her ability to quickly adapt in any environment and headstrong personality were two factors that could penetrate through the Sangyosei leader’s intimidating aura. That was one thing… her providing insightful strategies and actively hanging out with him knowing he’s one of the country’s dangerous underground leaders were another.

And Jotaro, for the first time in his clan leader life, didn’t know how to respond to the woman’s clever approaches except with appalled intrigue.

“And if we turn to this side of the Hokkaido prefecture, there’s a gap here that will allow us entry to the Lotus gang’s hideout, and if we’re lucky, we’ll get some intel about the Kyuketsuki and their true motives.”

“But I see a slight problem in the plan and it has to do with the crowds we’re dealing with,” she said as she showed Jotaro the printed images of several people bearing lotus and/or blood-fang tattoos, standing guard or in the motion of surveying the area.

“These just came in from your men scouting the area and knowing the gang’s leader’s history of mischief and traps, they pretend to be unprepared to lure in prey.” Y/N said. “And who knows if they have goons on standby inside potential loot locations.”

“What do you suggest then?”

“We play the counter bait.” She reached for a pen and traced a circle on the area highlighting the gang’s main entrance. “If there’s another fact I’ve learned from the guy, he’s an addict to a good gambling game, and once he’s in, he’s in it to win it. Get one or two of your associates to deal a bet against his team and a distraction is set.”

“You got the head occupied but you’re aware of the guards still surveying the area.”

“That’s what everyone thinks, but I’ve studied his patterns long enough to know that once he’s in the middle of a game, he calls in everyone to watch the game in the main arena, because his pride is what fuels him, more so when he doesn’t have a single loss in his track record.”

She introduced three pairs of photos on top, all depicting a raving event featuring the gang’s leader and his cronies and empty pathways at the same time. “I’d know because it has happened thrice.”

“Even if he did leave some men on guard, it’ll be less and we’ll have enough workforce to take them down with the handy silencer equipped.” Y/N tilted her head, a finger under her chin. “Then we can ambush the remaining men from the shadows and capture the Lotus gang leader for info about the Kyuketsuki clan.”

Jotaro didn’t supply anything in return, speechless. Y/N turned to him with one raised brow. “What?”

“You are… very knowledgeable about a gangster mob that’s known to be discreet from the public.”

“Well you forget that I worked as private investigator for multiple clients. Nearly half of their complaints described the details of the same man you are targeting for. Call it a stroke of luck that you got me here now or else you guys would be in one hell of a night.”

And she did not disappoint. Her strategy was what earned Jotaro and his men a successful finish to a mission as his guards took the enemy crowd by surprise and shot them all down before they could launch a counterattack. Their leader, who was drunk with material wins and alcohol, was caught in the middle of his escape.

The bastard did spill intel about the bloodsucking yakuza, but he shared a bit more information than what Jotaro had initially expected.

“All you fucks searching for those leeches when there’s a bigger threat than that clan of his,” the Lotus leader said with his arms bound behind him on a chair. “Kyuketsuki this, Kyuketsuki that. I teamed up with them in the first place because I need to stay safe against the impending conquest of the Seiikigumi.”

“The Seiikigumi?” Jotaro asked, curious.

“Those guys are the real deal. Multiple mob houses and a clans have either fallen or submitted themselves to the mercy of that organization,” he said. “Scary thing is that no one in this city knows about them but Brando and high-paying info brokers.”

He did remember rumors of the mysterious yakuza clan spreading during his first years as leader, but he never saw any evidence to prove their existence. For all he knew, gangs fall because they were too disorganized and had high chances of getting caught by enforcement. Clans, especially the smaller ones, were disbanded due to insufficiency in human and financial resources.

“The Seiikigumi… I’ve heard of the rumors before,” Y/N muttered, deep in thought. “But people only told me details of them as if it’s a novel. I’ve yet to see a member of that group or their actions for myself.”

“Oh they’re real alright,” the bound man said with a grin. “So you better watch yourselves and be careful to not pry too much, or else the Sangyosei clan will be next on their chopping board.”

“The Lowlife Princess will have you as her next meal.”

Jotaro shot him clean in the head as soon the man started to cackle.

His words retained in his mind all throughout the rest of the day which was foolish for him to do. He had better more practical things to do than to fret about a myth. Yet, he found himself deep in thought in the middle of a meeting.

Eventually, it came to his realization that he was too busy scrounging his memories for any links to the Seiikigumi so he could devise something to prevent them from infiltrating his clan.

“Hey boss.” Jotaro blinked out of his mental thoughts and immediately made eye contact with Y/N standing before him in his office. “I’ve noticed you’ve been preoccupied with something. Is it what the Lotus leader said the other night?”

He sagged back against his chair and rubbed his temple, a mild headache starting to grow. “It’s nonsense but I’m here wondering why some drunk bastard is making me overthink.”

“You know, you’ve been busy lately- well, 24/7 if we’re being honest,” she said with casual tone, leaning against his desk with her back to him. “Have you even took breaks once in a while?”

“I have no time to let loose when anything could happen at any time,” he said. “Right now, I’m waiting for Kakyoin to update me on the whereabouts of the Kyuketsuki’s eyes. They’ve been too quiet recently and it peeves me off.”

“At this rate, you’re going to die from stress.” She turned to look over her shoulder. “How about we book the small, private restaurant nearby and eat? I heard the meals they got there are to your liking.”

Jotaro didn’t reply and instead stared at her with deadpan. Y/N rolled her eyes and lifted a white plastic bag filled with different boxes and cups inside. “Figured you’re gonna decline my every offer, but I insist you eat. You wouldn’t want the Sangyosei to find their boss dead on the floor due to starvation, would you?”

He was about to reject and suggest she share the meals with the other 3, but his guts had to betray him in that exact moment via a small growl. Jotaro closed his eyes in self-disappointment and Y/N smiled, smug as ever. “Chow time leader-nim.”

Starting from that offer to take-out lunch, the clan leader had granted the woman access to his social circle the same he gave to his personal guards. Where it stemmed from simple offers of drinks and food, slowly spiraled into conversations that didn’t involve the underground world, and eventually to flirting- both the subtle ones together with the direct.

That was the thing with her- she knew what she was doing, knew when to balance work and all the other stuff that was out of Jotaro’s field of specialty. One moment she’d assist him with formulating strategies and carry out orders as if it was merely shopping, and the next she’d share the most absurd stories about a client’s dead pet and its relation to a murder case while wasted beside him.

Y/N’s hardworking work ethics and clever planning eventually earned her spot as Jotaro’s right hand with the whole clan agreeing with the choice unanimously.

With her current position, she was able to connect with him more than before as she was able to follow him everywhere with no permission required. It gave her the power to convey approved orders to his men, acted as his advocate to associates wanting security, and watched over training sessions while he was busy with more serious matters.

With her by his side, Jotaro could feel himself getting swayed by her assertive charms and given how it seemed a heavy weight was off his shoulders, he had no complaints.

She’d start making advances that weren’t too subtle towards him- a sultry whisper into his ear, a brush of her hand against his, shared hooded glances, the press of her body against his in tight spaces, the quiet bickering of the two that contained suggestive innuendos-

It was unbearable, though not necessarily in a bad way.

The one that made the tightly-strung tension snap was the night Y/N made the conscious decision to walk into his office, fresh from a nightly sponge dressed in a silk robe while he in a dress shirt and vest. The raven-haired man swept his gaze up and down at her form with an intense look to his gaze, covering his actions with a quick “what are you doing?”

According to her, she came in with urgent news about the immediate sighting and dispatch of Kyuketsuki members making a move of sorts in the Gifu prefecture. At closer inspection, he learned that at that location, Brando kept majority of his weapons in storage, likely also containing maps leading to several more of his undisclosed bases.

If it were any other day, he would take note of the report and dismiss the reporter, but he kept her in the room longer than what should be.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to send me to my quarters, boss?” Y/N said while she had the gall to cross her arms under the swell of her breasts.

Jotaro stood with furrowed brows, never cutting eye contact as he walked to her in an almost predatory way. “Do you think what you’re doing is funny?”

The closer he got to her, she walked back until she found herself against the wall. “What exactly am I doing boss-nim?” She tilted her head up to face the frustrated clan leader and narrowed her eyes as if to challenge him. “Am I annoying you greatly?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You know exactly what you’ve been doing and you’re right-” He slammed his hand on the space beside her head. “You’re driving me crazy, you vixen.”

Y/N scoffed, lips curling into a coy smile as her fingers threaded over the buttons of his vest. “Is that so? Why don’t you fire me then?” She purred. “Send me back to the world above the underground where I can expose your plot to the public?”

He clicked his tongue and leaned forward until his voice came out as a growl into her ears. “I’d be damned if I do such a thing.”

“So what are you gonna do, hm?” She whispered.

“I’ll make you shut up the way you like it.”

In the darkness lit only by the light of the full moon, Jotaro had her pressed up against the wall, robe cast aside as he fucked her with vigor, releasing all his pent up stress that accumulated throughout the times she teased him. Y/N whined and cried with every harsh pound of his hips against hers, every inch of her shivering from the intensity of it all.

Once she came, Jotaro flipped her around to let her face him as he lifted her up and thrusted back into her warmth with no hesitation. Y/N tossed her head back and moaned a loud cry, hands grasping his dress shirt with desperation. With her chest bouncing in front of him, he took the opportunity to bite and suckle on the hardened bud, prompting a second orgasm out of you.

He railed her to oblivion to no ends, carrying her over to his office desk only to fuck her over it with the same stamina as the first round. She gasped, breathless as her body rocked back and forth against the smooth surface of his table.

By the time her third orgasm hit her, Y/N still found herself on her back on the same furniture, unable to focus her vision and control herself from drooling at the overstimulation of Jotaro’s rough thrusts.

He never gave her the time to breathe, irritation still bubbling in him. As soon as she came yet again, he maneuvered both of them to his chair, where he planted Y/N on his lap, fucking up into her hear and letting you ride and bounce on cock.

Her body started to grow weary but her moans and cries were still loud as ever, addressing his title with every stimulated cry. Even at that, Jotaro grew annoyed. He wanted her to shout his name.

And so, the second she tightened around him for the fifth time, he held her close to him and pressed the tip of his nose into her neck, trailing it up until his lips grazed the shell of her ear. Raspy from his nonstop grunts, he muttered. “Beg.”

Y/N croaked out her words with unfocused, glassy eyes and a foggy mind resulting from the brutal poundings. “P-Please… boss-”

“Jotaro,” he whispered into her ear, emphasized with a slow yet deep roll of his cock against her walls. “I want you to cry out that name every time I fuck you.” Just like that, he suddenly bucked his hips upward, eliciting a ravishing cry out her reddened lips, one that only bore his name.

As his own release drew closer, his pace turned erratic and his thrusts increased in both speed and intensity, but to hear this woman plea his name over and over again just as she’s told was gratifying for the yakuza leader.

Wringing out one last orgasm out of her, Y/N jerked and let out a silent scream, a stream of clear liquid gushing out of her hole the same time Jotaro groaned and stiffened, feeling his release shoot into her soaked and loosened pussy.

Damn. He was exhausted.

Jotaro panted, sweat beading down his body as Y/N’s sweat-slicked body lay limp against his torso, feeling fluids leaking down his cock and seeping into the fabric of his slacks.

He turned to look at her to check on her current condition. She passed out from their wild escapade, cheeks flushed, panting with ragged breaths with stray hair plastered on her forehead from sweat. Her arms hung over his shoulders, no longer clawing lines onto his shirt.

Strangely enough, he was compelled to brush the hair off her forehead and plant a soft kiss on the area, before lifting her ass up to free his softened cock and arranging her body into a bridal hold to carry her over to his bedroom.

Ever since that night, no words were needed to convey that Jotaro’s relationship with Y/N became more than just simply that of “boss-guard”. They grew addicted to each other, craving that intimacy every moment it was just them in the comforts of closed doors. They would spend time in private establishments to plot, chat, eat, drink, and fuck.

Eventually, she wanted more. She wanted to claim his heart and so brazenly expressed her desires to him. And who’s he to decline her temptations at this point? Y/N was perfect in every aspect- a strategist, communicator, soldier, leader. Why would he refuse someone possessing those talents?

Just as she yearned for him, he gave into her allure, letting this woman become his queen.

But was it for the best?

Months after they had made it official, Jotaro decided to make a move to infiltrate one of the Kyuketsuki’s buildings in Gifu. Everyone in his circle had gathered around to discuss matters of the task, devised multiple plans on how to raid Brando’s precious armory.

Once all was clear and a plausible map of operations were made, he and a selected group of men chosen by Y/N, traveled to the marked location. Avdol had volunteered to join the venture as to provide extra security for his boss, while Kakyoin and Polnareff stayed behind to watch over for him.

It took them a while to get there, considering the distance between Tokyo and Gifu was fairly long. If it weren’t for the pathways formed exclusively for illegal transport, he wouldn’t be able to make it in time to weaken Dio’s forces, causing double repercussions for the territory he left without his watch.

But Jotaro reached the Kyuketsuki’s armory by nightfall and set everything into motion. He stationed his guards in their planned positions, with Avdol leading half of them to stay put in the shadows to serve as Jotaro’s eyes and keep watch of reinforcement, while he and Y/N lead the other half into the building, fully armed and cautious.

They crept through the darkened hallways that were eerily too quiet for a building supposedly filled with lackeys who often indulged in casual games and alcohol. “Boss,” Jotaro glanced at Y/N. “The firearms are found in the hangar in the left wing, but the documents and maps are kept in the right where the offices are located. Do you wish for me to help in retrieving the guns or-”

“I’ll lead the looting. You focus on giving me the paperwork,” he said. “Remember to keep an eye out. Who knows where they’re hiding.” She nodded once and split from the group at the next intersection between the two wings.

Something’s off. Why is no one here? Even as he first arrived, all the building’s lights were off. Not a single fluorescent lamp shining through a window, a lamp from a nearby shed, nothing. No goons were roaming around either, the footsteps of a patrol was non-existent. A chill crept up his spine. This is wrong. What happened?

As someone who’s been bested twice by him, Dio should have placed numerous men around his goods just as he always did to ensure nothing else would be stolen to maintain whatever pride he still had in him. But where were they?

The silence persisted even as he and his men reached the door to the hangar, kept shut with a low-security padlock tied to a chain. Jotaro pulled out his revolver and with a silencer equipped, he aimed and gave two shots before it gave away and fell. He cocked his head to motion his guards to remove the chains and push the door open.

True to the report, what he looked for were waiting for him to grab with crates of firearm stacked on top of each other lay inside while other miscellaneous items such as makeshift bombs and melee weapons lie on shelves. If he looked closer, he could spot a huge safe tucked in a dark corner where cash meant for the lackeys lay inside.

He should be relieved that he didn’t have to spare himself the extra trouble of fighting against a couple of gangsters to retrieve several guns, but he wasn’t because he knew this situation was too unusual and easy for his liking.

Unless-

The door clicked shut behind him and Jotaro spun just as he realized the reality he found himself in. He walked into a trap, but he was a second too late. A hard blow to his head sent him to the ground, warmth leaking out from where the pain came from. He bled from the impact.

He gritted his teeth and attempted to get up only for men, his men, to force him still on the ground, pulling out a white fabric to stuff his face into. Are you fucking kidding me? Jotaro was pinned to the floor, getting chloroformed by his guards.

The last thoughts that circulated his mind before falling unconscious was Y/N. She was caught in this as well and now she’ll be taken captive if she ended up unlucky as he was.

He should have seen this coming.

But why couldn’t he?

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬

When Jotaro came to, he was bound in a rather… explicit way that he considered too vulgar for his taste.

He was on his knees, his whole body tied with red rope in a series of complicated knots. It was fortunate that his clothes were still on him or might as well shoot him where he knelt. Above him, a single low-hanging light was the only source of illumination this dark room had. Around him were people surrounding him with sub-machine guns in hand.

And out of the light, a lone figure stood in the shadows with two men standing guard beside them.

He squinted and tried to make out who it was. Dio Brando? Or some other lucky fucker who got a yakuza leader trapped? As a means of verification, he gritted out. “You’re being a coward now? Step out of the dark and face me, Dio.”

“Dio? Oh sweetheart, you couldn’t be more farther than the truth~”

Jotaro stilled, eyes widening and all air leaving his lungs at the familiar voice chirping at him. It was as if a cold bucket of ice had poured over him in an instant. It couldn’t be. How… How did… “Oh damn. I spoke to soon. Literally. But since I’m outed at this point, might as well not be a coward.”

The shadowed figure slowly stalked forward, revealing a woman dressed in a finely-pressed black suit ensemble fused with a black-laced sleeves and posterior half of a lace skirt trailing behind her, and with the culprit under the spotlight, he could see the wide almost excited smirk carved on her face.

“Y/N…”

“The one and only darling.”

He couldn’t fathom how he’s still able to keep it together at the revelation that the woman he saved that night, who served him to no ends for years, who became his lover, ultimately was the woman who would be his downfall. “Oh and you don’t need to worry about Avdol. I already sent them back to HQ, informing him that for investigative purposes, our half of the group had to stay behind a bit longer. And he listened with obedience.”

Jotaro felt a range of negative emotions boiling within him due to the most insulting betrayal he had throughout his life as a clan leader- anger, confusion, surprise, humiliation, hurt. “Explain yourself. There’s no point in talking about anything else now, is there?”

She hummed. “Might as well. Though there’s a lot of stuff I have to dump on you in one sitting unless you want-”

“Just get on with it, bitch.” He spat out, eliciting a delightful “oh?” from the other.

“Reaching curse words now are we? Alright, I’ll start from the beginning until where we are right now then.”

Everything started the night the imports from Italy arrived. With her associates, 80% of the civilians living in his turf, lurking in plain sight serving as her eyes, had updated her constantly on Jotaro’s every move. The same individuals who had sought his clan out for security.

The lackeys that Dio sent in an attempt to steal his weapons were all dealt by Y/N’s men who she called “wraiths”- silent and hidden only to strike at the right moment. The leech’s goons were all taken out by her snipers from the comforts of their undisclosed positions before they could reach the docks.

At the same time, Y/N had hired a group of drunk men she found in the streets, promised them she’d pay them for playing the part of assaulter, only for the promise to be in vain with them ending up dead.

The ID and badge that proved her "profession" as part of law enforcement were fabrications to sell her persona, but her combat skills and her way of handling weapons were very much true. Getting involved with the ruthless underground world would require one to possess at least one of those things.

Throughout her time working as one of his pawns, Y/N would do her job diligently, too diligent to the point where she was able to sneak through his and his men’s watch and kept contact with hers, updating them on new tasks to do that aided her and by proxy, the Sangyosei and she was able to do this without causing suspicion.

The strategies she had formulated were all due to her constant exposure to other clans and mob houses, studying their patterns, way of living, connections, and how their operations worked to find the one loop hole in order to flush her targets down the drain of defeat.

The photos she had presented him all this time, photos of which were high in definition and close to the target, where taken from her wraiths, not his men. How they knew where they were? Turned out she had eyes everywhere- a waiter serving meals, a mother and her child by the swings, a farmer in the fields, a ship captain or his crew members, a passing businessman, a politician’s bodyguard.

She had majority of the population in her grasp.

While they worked externally, Y/N did her part from the inside. She climbed up the ranks until she landed into a position where she shared power that equated to his. With new acquisition of power, she now had control over his men, sending a handful or two out to an empty mission only for them to get gunned down, replaced with wraiths disguised in their clothes.

The same wraiths who accompanied Jotaro to the hangar.

And of the Kyuketsuki’s lackeys who were supposed to watch over the armory? Y/N had them dealt with just as the time during the first day they met, their bodies disposed onto a nearby lake, leaving the building devoid of life.

“Now we’re here with you tied up under my mercy,” Y/N drawled out.

“You’ve got loads of conniving bullshit planned out admittedly well for a leader of a small yakuza clan,” he responded with a glare. “Must be tiring for your so-called wraiths to do so much just to do this.”

At that, Y/N tried to stifle it in but failed to keep the laughter from escaping. “Small? Do you really think my crew is just some fiery underdogs who knows what we’re doing?” This time, the wraiths in the dark laughed after her. “You’ve complimented me then insulted me, oh how do I process this?”

“Who the fuck are you then to spit this much confidence to my face?”

Y/N stopped her sadistic glee and faced him with sudden stoicism. She drew a few steps closer and grabbed his chin, making sure he’s facing her head-on as she sat on her heels and said.

“You’re here with the Seiikigumi darling,” she purred, tilting her head with a growing smile. “Lead by none other but yours truly, the Lowlife Princess.”

All this time… The myth spread around the underground about a mysterious clan taking down multiple others before him. The men skilled enough to not be caught by enemies. The leader responsible for running such business. Everything was bared open for Jotaro to experience first hand as their next target.

To that, he cursed to himself for being foolish to trust a random stranger pleading for help.

“As you’ve may or may not known, I’m notorious for shutting down clans as I please by first killing the boss and either letting loose a mass ambush to every known location where their men are or have them join my side… but-” She cupped his cheeks and held them dear. “You may be my first exception~”

“Just shoot me now and spare yourself the effort,” Jotaro hissed but she paid no attention and shushed him.

“Listen to what I have to say darling~” Y/N said with a pout. “Unlike the other fleabags I had to be with, you’re different. You’re competent, stoic, rich, intelligent, and above anything else, pretty handsome for a yakuza boss. Plus, your personal men were so lovely to be with. I’d hate for them to be killed from the get-go.”

“How about you swear loyalty to me and you get to keep the Sangyosei alive and running? You head back as if nothing happened and do what you do, but to imagine you leading your troops with me as your right hand knowing that you're actually mine to control?” She sighed. “Oh it would be such a waste if I were to do what you just said. I do like having my trophy be shiny with power.”

Jotaro growled. “In your fucking dreams.”

Y/N scoffed, standing back up to step back and pull something out from her pocket. “Of course, I’d expect you to be defiant. I know you too well.” She raised her hand to reveal a button. “Standard protocol for stubborn prisoners is usually torture with the usual go-to stabbing, breaking of fingers and/or toes, and other forms of prolonged physical pain.”

“But since I hold you to a higher regard than the previous victims I’ve kept hostage, I have a different form of torture for you~” She gestured for one of her wraiths to gag his mouth with fabric. “Consider yourself lucky~”

With a press of her thumb on the device, Jotaro widened his eyes as his hips jerked and back arched, letting out a strained groan as something stuck to his cock and nipples started to vibrate with much intensity, and he couldn’t do anything about it with his arms and legs stuck in a compromising position.

“I very much enjoyed the nights where you fucked me so hard I couldn’t think straight. Truly, an experience I’d love to be in again. So in your honor, you get to feel what I’ve felt during those times for the whole night.” She pressed the button and his muscles relaxed, sighing with relief.

Y/N slid the gag off his mouth for a moment and said, “So? Will I expect your compliance by dawn, Jotaro-ssi?”

His body still felt the lingering sensations from where the devices were taped on him and he’d expect worse to come, but he wouldn’t back down. He was better than to give his dignity away to a traitor who more or less, deserved to get killed by his rules.

Jotaro responded with a smug smirk, letting her know he’ll indeed be different than her past captives. “Go fuck yourself.”

And just like the first time she stepped into his office, she tongued the inside of her cheek and ordered for the gag to return to his mouth. She turned on her heels, pressing the button to the highest level, causing him to grunt and quiver from the overwhelming sensation of the vibrations.

The door opened for her to step through, but she paused to say one last thing, looking over her shoulder. “I’ll have you know that you’re being recorded as well. Knowing you’re a man with dignity, it be awful for everyone to know how the leader of the dangerous Sangyosei clan is tied like this, captured and shaking. Just something to consider.”

He locked into her gaze with a deathly glare.

“Though I’m proud of my title,” she smirked. “I’m glad you made me the Queen, and you only have yourself to blame.”

And the door closed shut.

#jotaro x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jotaro kujo #mafia au #enemies to lovers #got inspired by an album with the same name sharing vibes with seulgi's mini album songs

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kaizzaphela · 8 months

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____’s Heart

#my art #umineko #umineko spoilers #clair vaux bernardus #beatrice the golden witch #umineko when they cry #umineko no naku koro ni #watched Utena and really liked some of the metaphors that it shared with umineko so. roses.#eyestrain #blood #bright colors #also slightly inspired by that one masa song. about the twins part of the same soul aperstes at birth I forget the name

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myuniverseinabox · 11 months

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Liars, Vipers, Jokers, and Fakes

Speedpaint available on Patreon

#or alternate title: You're at the party #both titles inspired directly by songs of the same name #art #digital art #artists on tumblr #oc #original characters #dragon #wyvern #equine #unicorn #humanoid #illustration #personal art #my art #ARCARDIA #Ryvari #Pauri

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tri4ge · 3 months

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Ride 'em cowboy

#Also loosely inspired by the Sparks song of the same name #furry #furry art #sfw furry #fursona #ehlers danlos #disabled artist #oc #digital art #completed #eye strain #my art #oc: ainsley

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reinabeestudio · 6 months

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Listens to Lay All Your Love on Me & Angel Eyes and gets possessed

#pokemon #Blue #trainer Blue #Blue Oak #self insert #my art #once more idk the tags for a character LMAO #and why they ourple😂#i got lazy after the lineart sorry 🗿#i also listened to a bit of the Name of the Game tbh #my absolute weakness for Honey Honey... the one song that inspired this gotdamn idea #Mamma Mia 1 & 2 soundtracks Good #What Are The Teammates Discussin #well no idea actually. you go and make up the narrative behind this. assume bitch /lh. DFGLKMFDKL #his hair is so stupid. i'll get a comb for that mf i'll brush it. SORT IT OUT!!!!!#this is the 2nd time i draw him & the 2nd time i draw him touching her in some way........#i'm afraid i might be giving the wrong impressions about their relationship by accidentally implying he's touchy-feely /j #i implied they met in Pasio bc they end up in the same PML team. and yet here i am with Alola (?). why are they here SKJFNDKS #'where does the flower and the pendants come from tho🤨' good question☝ you see h--- BEAM ATTACK💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

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ask-the-crimson-king · 4 months

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Fantasy's Wings

Dusk descended gracefully upon the beautiful glittering spires of Tizca. Small lanterns, crafted by the younger children in anticipation for the celebration, hung all around the city. It was the beginning of the celebrations to ring in the new year, and tonight was the Night of Wishes, a time where children would make lanterns, make a wish, and let them fly off into the night. Some had already been lit, flying into the pale orange sky as it faded to a deeper blue, while others waited until the first stars appeared. They were all colorful, adorned with all manner of decorations from abstract patterns of colors to depictions of mythical beasts and animals.

Zikar-Sin strode around the city without much care or purpose. His day's work had been completed, and he had wanted to see the bounds of his home again. The quiet hum of everyday life around him was a breath of fresh air compared to the constant drum of war. He had only been away for approximately a decade, but he was more than happy to return. He was awaiting his placement to one of his cousin Legions for his secondment.

He had selected three of them, based on a few of the interactions he had with their warriors; the White Scars, the Iron Warriors, and the Word Bearers. He almost selected the Blood Angels, but one of his close friends -- an initiate into the Order of Ruin named Imentet -- was already selected to join them. So he chose the Word Bearers, in part because he wanted to meet the newly recovered primarch. Lorgar had been discovered and given reign over his Legion only about five years prior, and Zikar-Sin found the change from Iconoclasts to the Bearers of the Word... interesting. Not that he knew the Legion much before the coming of their primarch, just that they seemed to transform themselves into something... different. New to the Legions.

New wasn't always bad. So he wanted to learn more about it.

As the Astartes walked, he let his mind unwind a little. He rose into the lower Ennumerations with some concentration, allowing him to see the City of Light in all its splendor. Presently he stood on the edge of central Tizca, the mountains flanking him as he watched the waning dusk. Stars began to peek out of the dimming sky, which meant that it was almost time for the other lanterns to be lit and released. Zikar-Sin remembered when he first took part in the tradition; he had just been selected as an initiate into the Legion itself, and he had created one infused with his hopes to be the greatest warrior the galaxy had ever seen.

How naive he once was, he thought to himself.

You're still naive, he knew his brothers would tell him. Just a different kind of it.

He shrugged off the assumed words of his close kindred and started his walk back into the city proper. Families were gathering with their little ones, carefully taking the lanterns and preparing to send them off on their final flights.

As he walked, he kept his mind open, sensing the temperaments of those he strolled past. One child was wishing for another cat in addition to the five they already had, much to the chagrin of their older sibling who happened to be allergic. Could that be altered by the Pavoni? Zikar-Sin would have to ask later. As the child lit the lantern with the help of their sibling and parents, Zikar-Sin felt the dulled mind and presence of a stray a few streets over. With some gentle aetheric nudging, he led the animal back to the child, much to their immense delight. The Astartes was already long gone by the time the cat had made it over, and the bright light of happiness outshone their own lantern in Zikar-Sin's aethersight.

He continued onward, his mind still abroad and wandering. Another child was hoping that they could use their pyromantic abilities to turn into a dragon, or a lion with the mane of a sun. Their parents were not as enthused by this aspiration, and Zikar-Sin noticed they had already more than fireproofed their home. The parents did not have a similar lean -- one was an auramancer while the other some variation of geokineticist -- so the gentle tiredness and exasperation at their child's wish and aspirations for the coming year was nothing new for them. He allowed himself a smile.

But then something interesting snagged at his other senses. It wasn't a happy emotion, rather one of fear and sadness. Zikar-Sin's brow furrowed, and he went and followed the thread. It led him back towards the Silver District, to a side street that didn't have any lanterns hung.

Well. Save for one, being closely held by a small child.

They must've been no older than eight or nine Terran years, by Zikar-Sin's rough estimate. Midnight blues and uncertain yellows clung to them closely. They were crying. Zikar-Sin approached slowly, gently brushing his mind against theirs. He found a longing there, but before he could discern more, the child jumped and whipped their head around, looking for the source of the disturbance. They spotted Zikar-Sin and jumped backwards, trying to hide their lantern and aggressively wiping at their face to hide their tears.

"I did not mean to disturb you," Zikar-Sin said slowly.

"Am I in trouble?" the child asked. Zikar-Sin shook his head.

"Of course not. Why would you be?"

"Because you're not supposed to be sad when people are celebrating," the child answered.

"And who told you that?"

"My friends." The child wiped at their face again.

"Not all celebrations will bring feelings of happiness," Zikar-Sin said. He stepped closer and crouched down so he was more on the child's level. "I am Zikar-Sin, of the Thousand Sons. May I have your name?"

"Huitzilin," the child answered.

"It is very nice to meet you, Huitzilin," Zikar-Sin said with a smile. "Would you mind if I asked why you were feeling sad?" He sensed Huitzilin mentally brace, as though they were facing reprimand or ridicule.

"I..." they hesitated, fiddling with the tassels of the lantern still behind their back. "I just miss my dad..." Tears came to their eyes, though they did their best not to cry in front of an Astartes. Zikar-Sin feared this meant the child was an orphan of war, realizing their father was garrisoned with the 28th Expedition Fleet. But he then saw what made up part of the child's lantern, though Huitzilin wanted to hide it. Unfortunately, the child's aura betrayed their emotions. It was a letter, promising he would be home soon, and to keep watch over their cat and bird while he was away.

"You miss him dearly, don't you?" Zikar-Sin asked. "I'm sure he misses you just as much." Huitzilin nodded and sobbed, covering their eyes with a hand.

"I'm sorry..."

"No, no, don't apologize. Here." The Astartes took out a small rag from the belt that helped secure his tunic in place. The child took it and wiped at their eyes and nose. "Would you like a hug?" Huitzilin took a moment to consider, before nodding wordlessly and allowing themself to be brought into a warm hug by the Astartes.

"I'm sorry," Huitzilin mumbled.

"Hush. None of that now," Zikar-Sin said softly. "Don't let anyone tell you that you aren't allowed to be upset about missing your parents. No matter the occasion. Okay?"

"Okay." The child pulled back, still hiccuping a little. They brought the lantern to their chest, sniffling and rubbing their eyes.

"Would you like my help releasing your lantern?" the Astartes asked. Huitzilin hesitated for a few moments. They hugged the lantern a bit tighter, almost defensive over it. Zikar-Sin felt the child's worry. They worried that if they let it go, they'd be letting go of their father's promise. Their wish was obvious.

"It is okay to say no," Zikar-Sin said. "Scary thought, to let go of a wish, isn't it?" Huitzilin nodded. "You know, I bet your father made a lantern for you tonight. And he has the same wish as you." The child's eyes widened.

"They make lanterns out there?" they asked. Zikar-Sin nodded.

"Of course. And, just like the ones here, they get released into the tides of the Great Ocean itself, and through the power of great will... they may just come true," the Astartes answered. "The more people wish for something, the more likely it is to come true."

Huitzilin looked back at the lantern. It was decorated like a brightly colored bird, the note from their father inside.

"Again, it is okay to say no. You do not have to let go of it if you do not want to," Zikar-Sin said.

"I think I want to," Huitzilin said, holding out the lantern to Zikar-Sin. "That way, my lantern can find his, and our wishes can both come true." Zikar-Sin nodded, beginning to conjure a small current of wind around him.

"Are you ready?" he asked. Huitzilin nodded, closing his eyes and silently mouthing his wish. When he opened his eyes again, Zikar-Sin lit the lantern, sending it into the skies above to join the thousands of other artificial stars, buoyed by the hopes and dreams of the children of Prospero.

"I hope it works," Huitzilin said quietly.

"It will. I know it will." The Astartes slowly stood to his full height, nearly doubling that of the child's. "Would you like to join me for the festivities happening in Occulum Square? A few of my brothers have planned out quite the spectacle. I think you'd enjoy it."

"That's a far walk..." Huitzilin mumbled. Zikar-Sin laughed.

"And who said you would be the one walking? I can carry you on my back, if you'd like."

That seemed to excite the child. They nodded, and Zikar-Sin crouched down again, letting Huitzilin hop on.

"Hold on tight, we'll be there before the sun fades!" the Astartes said. He gave the child a few seconds to clasp their hands around his neck, and he supported their legs before he stood and ran off through the streets of Tizca. His sandals slapped against the paved walkways as he raced for the heart of the city, making sure to take the streets that were less occupied so that he didn't accidentally trample over anyone. Huitzilin laughed and whooped in his ear, urging him to run faster, almost as though Zikar-Sin were their noble steed. The Astartes grinned himself and did his best to comply, taking a detour before getting to the heart of the festivities. He let the child down as the opening remarks began, earning some strange looks from the other gathered Thousand Sons present.

Zikar-Sin spent the next hour accompanying Huitzilin around the festival, until they ran into their friends and said. The children were in awe at the fact that Huitzilin had befriended one of the Legion. A couple of them seemed jealous, much to Zikar-Sin's delight. They invited Huitzilin to come play some games with them, and the child hesitated, looking up at Zikar-Sin.

"You don't need my permission," he said. "If you want to play with them, you are free to do so."

"I don't want to leave you alone," Huitzilin said, wringing his hands nervously. Zikar-Sin laughed.

"Oh, don't worry. My brothers are nearby. I'll need to check in with them anyway," he said. He looked over to where three of them had gathered, talking among themselves about some higher concepts. One of them noticed Zikar-Sin looking in their direction and furrowed his brow. Zikar-Sin grinned mischievously. "Maybe once you are done playing, you all can come meet them. I'm sure they would love to say hello."

+Zikar, what in the Emperor's name are you dragging us into?+ came a psychic voice.

+You can handle being around some small children for a few short minutes,+ Zikar-Sin sent back. +Some socialization would do you good.+

+Like you have any leg to stand on.+

+I have two, actually.+ Zikar-Sin then pushed away his brother's connection, focusing back on the children who were excitedly talking amongst themselves.

"That'd be awesome!" said one of them.

"Can we meet them now?" asked another.

"Later," Zikar-Sin said, "first I need to speak with them. Go play your games and have fun, and I'll call you all over when they're ready."

There was a small chorus of 'awww's that followed his words, but the kids seemed to accept it.

"C'mon, Huitzi," one of the kids said, gently grabbing Huitzilin by the shoulder. "You've got to see this cool lizard thing! It's from one of the worlds my mom went to!"

"No way, they've got to see my new cat first!"

"I want to show them the dragon!"

"Peace, children, peace," Zikar-Sin said with a dry expression. "Huitzilin, what would you like to see first?"

"Well..." Huitzilin said, frowning in thought. "The lizard does sound cool..."

"Then let's go! Bye, Sir Astartes!" said one of the kids, grabbing Huitzilin's hand and pulling them away. Zikar-Sin waved goodbye, watching them run off. He then turned to go join his brothers, a soft smile on his face.

"Scouting for new initiates?" asked the same who had intruded on his thoughts earlier.

"Not really," Zikar-Sin answered. "Though isn't that your job, Nekhbet?"

"Sometimes, when I'm not tending to the one's we're already testing," Nekhbet answered. "You seem to like the child well enough. They could be Astartes material. They seem to be of age."

"Hmm..." Zikar-Sin frowned.

"We could at the very least test for viability," said the soft-spoken voice of Asim, hardly more than an aspirant himself. Zikar-Sin turned back to where Huitzilin had ran off, thinking of the child's wish.

"I think they may like that idea," Zikar-Sin said.

---

The sky churned with the might of an endless storm above him. Starlight was obscured and refracted in strange ways, making the already peculiar light cast over the landscape even stranger. The ground beneath his armored boots was shards of shattered glass, each reflecting facets of both past and future to be and never to be again.

In his hands was a lantern, light and decorated in the aspect of a colorful bird. With a breath, Zikar-Sin conjured a current of wind, lit the lantern, and let it fly off into the sky. Inside of it was a note, never to be read.

It was but one artificial star, flying alone into the uncaring heavens above. It carried a wish that was never to be granted.

A wish for his little brother to find peace and safety in whatever realm he now walked within.

A silent tear rolled down his cheek, falling and splashing onto one of the shards below. As the sorcerer turned, he conjured his tower, walking inside without another glance at the tortured sky.

He did not see that, for the barest and briefest of moments, there was a second lantern. It winked in and out of existence in the span of a heartbeat, but it was there.

And that was all that mattered.

#thousand sons #warhammer 40k #warhammer 30k #not magnus this time #welcome to the stage my little anxious and audacious sorcerer/diabolist #zikar-sin of the thousand sons #and later zikar-sin of the word bearers #as with most of my writings this is inspired by a song of the same name #fantasy's wings by ancient bards #this is the unofficial/official announcement of me adding him to the blog as a side muse

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sehtoast · 10 months

Text

Sunset in July (Depowered!Homelander x OC) All of You is Left to Love Chapter 5

18+

2.3k

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5

Warnings: Vaginal sex, brief mentions of torture, brief mentions of genital injuries, soft smut, angst if you squint

Ben and Homelander share a date night two months after depowerment.

OC: Benjamin Colyer (The Boys-verse Spider-Man)

So much had happened in the past two months.

Benny got caught up in a deal with Vought– one that would cease their pursuit to ‘reclaim’ their lost ‘property.’ In return for filling his seat in The Seven, the former Homelander would be left to live his life.

What little was left of it, anyway.

Benjamin spent hours upon hours, every night, going over that massive contract with highlighters and red pens. He made sure there wasn’t a speck of bullshit to be found– no tiny loopholes that would come back to haunt them, no fine print that dictated John’s mere existence was theirs to own and take back whenever they pleased.

All he could do was watch as his partner dueled the world’s most powerful corporate entity while his safety hung in the balance.

In the end, Ben won.

Not only that, but Benny secured a bargain for Vought to begin processing the necessary paperwork to get John proper documentation to prove that he existed. Forty fucking three years old, and he never had a birth certificate– no social security number, no ID… Nothing. Vought always covered for him, so why would he need any of those? Anything he needed to own was handled by them. His money, his properties– all of it was processed by Vought.

Which, of course, meant everything was theirs.

During this time, Ben balanced being Spider-Man, taking care of him, and warring with Vought. The web-head seemed like a dead man walking with how exhausted he was, but he never quit. He never threw his hands up and decided it’d be easier to have John be self-sufficient with his volatile emotions, never decided to just keep him locked away in their apartment for his safety, never abandoned those in need around the city to focus on the other issues at hand…

John’s injuries healed– bruises faded away, cuts vanished, scars formed…

If not for the shaved head and pink ridges traveling his right cheekbone and chest, John would be able to convince even himself that nothing had happened.

So, two months after his rescue, Ben took him for their first real date.

A celebration, he’d called it. The end of one thing, the start of another.

The former supe was petrified at the idea of going out in public, and Ben could tell. So, like any good wall-climbing boyfriend would, he set up a rooftop picnic and carried his Johnny to the top. Nothing extravagant, just drinks and food– a setting sun to bask in as they shared their moment, pillows and blankets to rest upon.

But, it was perfect.

It was nice to snuggle into his little spider without fear of pressure on his bruises, or the cut on his chest wrinkling and stinging. Curling a leg to entwine with Ben’s, losing himself in the rise and fall of his love’s chest, the gentle thrum of his heart…

The view of the early July sunset was beautiful, washing over the pair with a sense of serenity in waves of orange and pink.

“This is… nice.” Homelander murmured softly, his voice carrying a tinge of vulnerability. It had been a long time since he’d been content enough to bask in a moment so beautiful. The gravity of this… change always loomed over him, weighing down on his mind and body like a million pounds, but here, now… everything felt okay.

Like they were both able to simply take a breath.

“I’m glad,” Ben hummed, giving John’s hand a light squeeze. “We deserve something nice.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you…” John confessed in a whisper. “You’ve saved me in more ways than one, at this rate…”

Benny smiled and nuzzled into John’s neck, pressing a kiss to his flushed skin. “You’ve saved me too, y’know?”

As the last rays of sunshine drowned under the horizon, John tightened his grip around Ben’s hand, as though the light slinking away would cause the moment to fade into nothing more than a simple dream.

“I just… I dunno how to ever repay you for– well, for everything.” Homelander took a deep breath. With Benny by his side, perhaps he could learn to navigate this new world where he no longer knew himself. Maybe– just, maybe– he could figure this out.

Maybe it’d all turn out alright, just as his lover always promises.

He leaned in closer to Ben and brushed their lips together in a slow, tender kiss, savoring the taste of love and tranquility on his little spider's mouth.

"You'll never have to," Benny murmured against his lips, his hand coming up to stroke through John's brown locks. His hair had grown out to the length it once was, though it was shaggy and unkempt now. There was a certain charm to it, though.

He knew the reason his love refused haircuts was the fear of having his head buzzed against his will again. Ben vowed never to pressure him, especially knowing all that his Johnny had gone through.

His mind flashed back briefly to the scene he found in the cell…

"They'll never take you…" Ben affirmed as he looked into Homelander's worried blue eyes that always seemed to seek reassurance now. "You’ll always be safe."

He'd fight like hell to make sure John had a shot at this new life. He'd do anything to give his lover this chance- to help him work through the strife and trauma and come out of the rubble of change far stronger than he’d ever been before.

A lump formed in John’s throat, thick with emotions he dare not breathe to life.

Ben’s thumb brushed against the pink scar running along his cheekbone, and suddenly he felt the haunting memories of captivity pervading into the forefront of his mind. Yet, with Benny at his side, he felt safe, grounded, collected.

He would not unravel at the seams.

Not now.

”We’ll be safe…” He whispered hoarsely, his voice wavering just slightly. He nuzzled into Ben’s touch, warmed to the core from the comfort of his lover.

In this new, raw vulnerability that they shared, there was strength- an unbreakable bond forged through an unspeakably dark time. At least, that’s what Ben had told him. John leaned in once more, pressing another kiss against Benny’s lips, pouring every ounce of love and appreciation he could muster into the gesture.

A thank you for his rescue, for his mended wounds, for handling his breakdowns, for the borrowed clothes, for the sleepless nights where he needed so desperately to be held…

For fighting Vought, tooth and nail, to secure his freedom.

For simply being beside him…

By the time they decided to return to their apartment, Ben found himself riled up from all of John’s little touches and warm kisses.

It felt like a lifetime since he and John were intimate on account of the fact Homelander suffered injuries to his genitals while imprisoned. By now, however, they were most certainly healed.

The thought bounced around his head until he couldn’t contain the urge.

“Close your eyes, babe…” Benjamin whispered from behind John, his arms wrapped around his lover’s waist, lips at his neck. “I wanna…” He trailed off as his hand dipped down to run over the curve of John’s cock in his shorts. “Only if you’re okay…”

John’s breath hitched as shocks of excitement tingled through his body. Anticipation and longing spanning months, finally within reach. He closed his eyes obediently, shivering at the thought of what was to come as he leaned his head to the side to give his little spider better access.

“I’m ready…” he replied, his voice gravelly. “God, I’m so fucking ready!”

His heart pounded in his chest– such a uniquely human feeling– as he felt the warmth and strength of Ben pressed against him from behind. The raging hunger for intimacy coursed through him like a fire– burning away everything else.

“Fuck…” Homelander rasped, surrendering himself completely to the touch of the man he loved.

Ben inhaled deeply, nuzzling his nose behind the shell of John's ear. “God…” he groaned. “I fucking missed touching you like this…”

Benny turned John around, leaning in immediately to engulf him in a needy kiss, one eye open to navigate his grip until he’d lifted the former supe from the ground, his love’s legs wrapping around his waist.

“I love you.” Ben gazed up at him, grinning against the hands that cupped his face. “My Johnny…” Homelander's legs tightened around Benny's waist as their lips locked in a passionate embrace.

Their kisses began to deepen, growing more urgent with every passing moment. Hungry moans escaped from Homelander's lips as Benny's hands roamed over his body, caressing every inch of him, leaving goosebumps in the wake of every tender touch.

Benny lowered John onto the bed– never breaking away as he straddled him. Their bodies slotted together as clothes were discarded piece by piece, hands exploring with a familiarity only two bound souls could possess.

Homelander shuddered as he felt the warmth and wetness of Benny’s core grind against him, pleasure surging through him like pure electricity as they moved together in a rhythm all their own.

Tender, yet fervent, each touch carried an unspoken adoration for each other. John surrendered himself, suddenly less inclined to lead in this dance of theirs, content instead to be cradled and loved by his little spider. A bout of insecurity rose in him at the fact he couldn’t perform the same way he could once.

When he had his powers.

But any attempts to apologize for fatigue and resting breaths were shushed away, and lips pressed to him instead to silence him.

“I don’t care about that,” Ben gasped into his mouth as he slid his slick core over the length of John’s shaft. “None of that matters… Just you. Just you…”

He engulfed John in another passionate kiss, grinding down on him as their tongues mingled and moans reverberated against each other.

“I want you to take me however you want me…” Ben cooed. “Soft, hard… anything you want. Just take…”

John's breath caught as he listened to Benny's words, his cock twitching with need. He nodded fervently, a soft hunger burning in his eyes.

“Like this… I want you like this."

Benny pressed a kiss to his forehead and a hand to his chest, easing him back slowly. Their eyes locked.

John reached down to guide himself into position, keening weakly as his lover sank down on him with no hesitation.

“Hnngh,” he whimpered, the familiar heat gripping his senses. His hands grasped Ben’s thighs, holding tight as he tried to stave off his release.

So much time untouched left them both so sensitive.

“F-Fuck!” Ben hissed as his core worked to adjust to his lover’s girth. “So t-thick…”

Benny rose up, sighing softly before sinking back down, working into a pleasurable rhythm until he was rutting and riding his lover just the way they both liked.

Homelander’s hips started to work into a pace of their own, thrusting up to meet his little spider, their combined efforts working to build their respective peaks higher and higher.

“T-That’s it–” Ben groaned, moving John’s hands to position them at his hips. “Take me…” He threw his head back in a weak moan when Homelander’s biting grip finally registered.

Claps of skin, desperate breaths– praise and love all filled the room as they moved together in a desperate symphony of desire and passion.

“C-Close!” John called out, feeling the coil of heat building tighter and tighter in his core, his balls tensing up in preparation to mark his love from the inside out. “I’m– I’m not–”

Ben came down hard, grinding in circular motions against Homelander’s cock. “I want you to f-feel so– fuck– so good!” He leaned forward, taking John into a searing kiss, swallowing his whines. “C-Cum when you’re ready, baby. Don’t fight it…”

With that, he resumed bouncing on John’s cock, the rolls of his hips growing more languid as he coaxed his lover closer to edge of completion.

“Fuck! I–I’m sorry! I’m– Hah!” John groaned loudly, his hips rising to fuck hard into Ben through the waves of his orgasm, painting his lover’s walls with his cum. He felt it all the way into his limbs as the tingles of release coursed through him. Words spilled from his lips– incoherent at best as he moaned and babbled through his orgasm, his nails biting into Ben’s hips as though letting go would leave him castaway in a sea of bliss.

He trembled through the aftershocks, jolts like electricity dashing through him as Ben rode him to completion, his little spider's voice caught somewhere between a sigh and a groan as his cunt spasmed and pulsed with release.

“Ah– oh, fuck! Fuuuuck….” Ben panted, content to follow the arms that pulled him down. Lips met his, guiding him into a kiss he was too far from his own mind to reciprocate quite yet.

A sense of contentment washed over John– a rarity, these days. He’d dearly missed how quiet the world became after moments like this. His protector simmered down, the bad thoughts were kept at bay, and the worries he held for the future silenced.

After all, his future rested in his arms.

Moments like these… Ones where he could revel in the vulnerability of their afterglow, hold his lover, be held in return…

It meant the world.

“Love you…” Ben murmured weakly against his flesh, a kiss pressed to him to seal the promise.

The pair laid there for a while, basking in the afterglow, content to just exist side by side. Ben's hand crept up to John's hair, scratching lightly against his scalp to further comfort and relax his Johnny.

Just as they were both on the cusp of sleep, several loud booms echoed outside. From their position on the bed, they could make out the sight of reds, whites, and blues shimmering outside of the window.

"Huh,” Benny hummed cheerfully. “Would you look at that?”

John watched quietly as another blast of fireworks painted the sky, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Happy birthday, Johnny!"

edit: desktop view seems to be missing a whole chunk of this story, whereas mobile displays it fine. editor shows it's still there, so i'm sort of hands-tied as far as fixing it goes.

#homelander #depowered homelander #homelander smut #homelander fanfiction #homelander x oc #the boys #the boys tv #the boys homelander #antony starr #title inspired by 311's song of the same name. listened to it on finishing stretch of writing this lol

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