#kimiko needs sleep

[tinycutesuccubus]

💀Being Suguru Geto's ex lover waking up after 10 years of cryogenic sleep only to find out that your lover is alive again and posessed by a shaman named Kenjaku💀 - headcanons/scenario/short story (crack fic???) - angst

Edit - I want to thank for the hearts, I don't really deserve your kindness sweet people of the internet, thank you for liking it

Okay, this is a reall weird pov but I wanted to write it, please don't judge me, I have read the manga up until one point and got too sad to continue it, I haven't seen the movie yet so if I make any mistakes please forgive me, this isn't supposed to be 100 percent canon anyway. For the first time I will write a bit of angst and not nsfw which is a shocker, the original plan was to make the reader either a necromancer or a demon but I decided against it. I apologize for the shitty writting I haven't slept in two days and have like a lot of things to do at home and probably start a job and am not my best self but felt inspired to write today, so here we go. The story is all over the place and may at moments be very random. Enjoy

Pov - being Geto's ex and being jealous of Gojo and hating him thinking he is the reason why geto broke up with you randomly, being so strong and unstable that you had to be put into cryogenic sleep by Yaga and wake up ten years later with amnesia only to find tokyo in ruins and that you are a cursed spirit being interwined as a human woman being forced to die and relive the same fate in the same body over and over again, being Sukuna's first and only lover and being destined to destroy Kenjaku and his plans. Warnings - f.reader

💔 You were awoken from your sleep basically by what felt like an earthquake, caused by the Shibuya incident, you woke up at the high school in a bed that looked similar to a coffin. Slowly waking up you looked around to literally see no one, expecting to at least see your childhood friends like Gojo or Shoko has left you puzzled since you saw their faces last, when you went to sleep

💔Basically you had too much energy and powers that you couldn't contain which attracted other cursed spirits to you, despite training in the school you never felt strong enough, at least not like Gojo, which hurt your ego and pride a bit, after lashing out and having a panic attack with a special grade cursed spirit, and destroying half of the city you were requested to train individually from now on, which made you feel lonely and eventually a deal was made, the higher ups wouldn't kill you but you would need to sleep for 10 years and not wake up, and that's what happened

💔You met Geto, Satoru and Shoko in high school and became best friends, you manage with your power to quickly recap everything that happened for the last ten years, learning that Gojo killed Geto, and the brain took over since his body wasn't disposed of, learnt about every and each fight among the new students, learnt about his goal about wanting to kill all nonsorcerers and Rika. That was too much information to take in all at once, your Geto would never do that - you thought as tears fell down your cheeks and on the ground, buildings fallen apart next you and dead bodies laying on the ground, his extremist views make you wonder if putting you to sleep was the right thing to do, maybe Gojo...maybe you could have saved him?

💔You learnt that Gojo was imprisoned in a cube, you take your weapon which was a scythe and teleport just like Gojo to the place where he is in front of him with the scythe laying on your shoulder. The students and the other socrers seem to look at you confused, but it seems some of them recognize you, who stare in disbelief, Yuji is too confused and just asks who is that and for the first time in a long time, Sukuna seems interested in something other than fighting, being arrogant asshole and Fushiguro Megumi.

💔You've always felt that Geto and Gojo had something going on while you dated him, and maybe that is why he decided to break up with you randomly for no reason after dating for two years, he never told you the reason, but you suspected it was because of Gojo and you learnt to hate the arrogant white haired rich bastard for that, for stealing geto from you, for killing him-Your emotions getting the better of you and swinging the scythe exactly to his neck ready to kill him but being too much of a coward to do so, Geto or whoever was controlling him seemed too calm as if he knew who you were and that you wouldn't kill him

💔 "Y/n L/n, hmm I have never expectected one of the five special grade sorcerers to come here, also known as Suguru Geto's friend, and ex lover, your technique and weapon is interesting though. But what are you going to do, your precious Geto is dead" his chukles mocked her " And the strongest jujutsu sorcerer is sealed in this cube" He looked at Yuji "I wonder what is your trump card, Sukuna's vessel or The destroyer of worlds" he then looked at you

💔Part of the reason why you were so dangerous and why Sukuna and other curses felt so attracted to you is because you were the reincarnation of Sukuna's first lover, another cursed spirit, who caused pain, death and havoc along side him, but both of your memories were stripped away, you found your self getting weaker and weaker and eventually had to mesh with a newborn baby girl whose mother left her in a basket inside a lake since she couldn't take care of her, you became your own curse, being forced to live though the centuries in the same body with amnesia and being seen and treated like a human who had too much questionable cursed energy to be an ordinary girl, too much destructiveness, too much anger to contain inside your small body

💔A fight broke after Geto attacked you, some of the others like Yuji tried to scream out your name but you couldn't hear him since you had to block Geto's attacks, as he sent you flying into a building breaking a few windows, as you tried to stand up he kicked you so hard that he made the building shake and start to collapse, making you and him fall a few floors under.

💔The fight seemed like it went on forever as Geto as destroying sorcerer after sorcerer in front of your eyes, holding them by the head and dragging them on the floor as blood spilled out their bodies, laughing like a maniac, this wasn't the Geto you know...this wasn't Geto, this wasn't Geto, you constantly thought as if the loud sounds finally stopped for a few minutes and you attacked him from behind only for him to attack you with the dead body of Panda on top of you. You took hit after hit, bleeding again and again as Geto got enjoyment from hurting you, thinking that he weakned you this way

💔It was like his laugh was never ending as you closed your eyes trying to find your inner voice for a moment " This isn't Geto " you still thought and opened them, now Geto being in front of you with a sick smile. "Y/n" Yuji tried to mumble as he was barely holding him self on his legs, you were suddenly reminded of Nanami and half of him being completely destroyed as he was trying to protect Yuji, you didn't want his death to go in vain, for a glimpse you thought you saw Sukuna's eyes flicker, with the same love flame that they did many years ago, did he remember, did he knew? And did Geto really know everything about you, more than you did your self?

💔You saw that Geto moved to attack Sukuna's vessel with your scythe in hands which he stole during the battle, wanting to make one final hit but instead pierced your stomach with your own scythe, he laughed at you saying how foolish and naive you are to do a sacrifice like that, making Sukuna livid as he transforms. But little did both men know that you had your own trump card in your sleeve, a place which nuetralized any cursed technique, a place where being attacked and hit made you two times more powerful? Now it was time for you to laugh, which stunned both Geto and Sukuna. You took the scythe out of Geto's hand with force that he didn't expect, especially coming from a woman, you turned to kiss Sukuna's bloodied lips, whispering to him how much you love him and after that slapped Geto for making you go through this, before pulling his hair harshly making him hiss. You licked his ear and whispered

"Domain expansion - Dismantled reality" before both of you disappeared in front of Sukuna, only leaving the cube on the floor as the biggest reminder that both of you fought seconds ago.

Yeah I know this sucks, please don't be too rude to me, I tried my best, I haven't slept in two days and feel so severely horrible and might just take a nap, good night yall

#geto suguru #x reader #geto suguru x reader #sukuna x reader #angst #scenarios #headcanons #minors dni #jujutsu kaisen #shitty fanfic #crack fanfic #jjk #kenjaku #tiny cute succubus #kimiko needs sleep

[priestfrommidnightmass]

sometimes you’ve got to be near tears thinking about your favorite lesbians who are objectively not lesbians but heterosexuals who got the family coding (because this show loves to do that) while listening to eau d’bedroom dancing by le tigre on repeat

#i don’t even know why this song reminds me of them so much. #but it DOES!!! #one day i’ll make the amv #hardly 24 hours without the boys and as you can see the withdrawals are going great #FEENCHIE AND KIMIKO😭😭😭😭 FRNECHIEAND KINIKO😭😭😭😭 #WHY FOES NOBODY INDERATNSF IN THE ENITR WORLD #THE INTRIACIES #AHHHHHH #i need to go to SLEEP.

[thesilmarillionblog]

PROTECT ME FROM WHAT I WANT

Chapter 1: Don't try to fight the storm, You'll tumble overboard.

Summary: You've been working with Butcher and his team since your sister died in a plane crash caused by Homelander, and months later, you met Soldier Boy. Drowning between hatred and your desire to have your vengeance, you have to face your feelings for Soldier Boy eventually.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Female! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Hurt, Language, Asshole Soldier Boy, Mention of Death

Word Count: 2106

A/N: English is not my first language.

Its been a year since the greatest supe ever known of America woken from his forty years of sleep, and it did not even take a large amount of time for your thoughts to revolve around him only. Oppressed with grief, your life has been consuming you inside since your sister died in a plane crash caused by Homelander. It changed many things. It made Butcher and his team find you; it turned you into something you couldn't name anymore. Each passing day was the same. You were all alone with despair when darkness took over the daylight; you knew you did not even mourn properly for your sister. What's worse was that you had fought just before the flight. Funny, that was the only time you two had a fight in twenty-three years, and it was over for nothing. Time heals, they say. They are all wrong. It won't heal a shit till it kills and throws you away with one last heavy strike.

The day you rescued Soldier Boy was definitely a hard day to forget. He looked like an unleashed, savage animal freed from a cage. Actually, he was literally something like that. Ben was so hard to control. Besides, the worst thing about himself was not his character; it was his erratic, nuclear-muscled chest, ready to blow up anytime. It was a hidden menace under his thick skin.

At first, you weren't sure if Homelander or Ben were worse. Probably both were pure supe evils in their own unique way. After all, intentionally or unintentionally, they both hurt many people.

All things aside, at least you were certain about one thing you truly craved for. The only thing. Homelander must die.

Walking on tiptoe, your heart was beating fast, and it was not the first time. Your palm was sweaty around the pistol, and your knuckles probably turned white. No need to be humble; you were a good shooter, a very good one, but you weren't sure if you could aim right into the eyes of the supe you were looking for when the right time came. Ben gave you the big eye and almost chuckled. You knew his senses as a supe were highly developed, and that made things embarrassing for you. In addition, the house being so silent and dark was another problem.

You did not know when all these things started when he made you feel such things. Maybe it was just a silly and temporary crush that would disappear sooner or later. However, as time passed, the way you reacted around him just grew irrevocably stronger. It was getting out of hand or already did. You hated that feeling but loved it; you also despised it and became obsessed with it. He was hard to ignore in every way, especially when he was that heartbreakingly handsome.

“Hey,” he said mockingly. “Why so excited suddenly?”

You were both grateful and angry with Butcher for leaving you alone with Ben in such a place like this. You were chosen to work with Ben most of the time since he broke Hughie's arm, got into a fight with Annie and Frenchie, and threw Butcher to the tree. Lucky for him, he was on Compound V, so, no one wanted to spend a single second with him. Especially Hughie was scared as fuck of him.

The only one who did not have a fight with Ben was Kimiko, as she never said a word at all that could make him mad in any way. Though you knew Kimiko was even more savage talking to Ben with sign language, you never dared or needed to translate her words directly.

Checking around nervously, you took a deep breath. “I am not excited.”

“Don't worry, it's not a big deal,” he continued, ignoring what you've just said. “I am used to such things.”

“What things?”

“You know,” he sighed. “Knowing that the strongest supe in the world is with you right now in this house and all alone got you wet. I’m sure your clit is flickering with such excitement that you might cum any moment.”

Judging by the look on his face as he went on acting his fingers obcenely and not stopping talking in an inappropriate way, he was amused. You just wanted to shut his voice completely down. He was not familiar with embarrassment at all. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, waiting for him to finish his pornographic ted talk.

Taking back some steps from him “Have you totally lost your mind? Every single thing you say is so gross and nasty,” you finally said. “You're so delusional; you should have been an author.”

It wasn't the first time he teased you. His choice of words was getting more obscene each time, even though you never took them seriously. The things he said caused pathetic butterflies to punch your stomach hard. But you knew Ben was being like this to everyone. It was in his nature, after all.

“Say delusional one more time and see what happens.” His sharpened eyes were fixed on you.

Fuck Butcher.

“Ben,” you whispered nervously. You got closer to him and touched his chest hesitantly.It would be a terrible idea to get on Ben's sensitive nerves. It would be easier if Butcher was there. “Are you on coke?”

“Course I am.”

Pushing your hands away from his chest with a rough move, Ben looked around cautiously, searching for any sign of the supe.

You followed in his footsteps. “Do you hear anything?”

“No.”

Stopping for a moment, you sighed. You did not want to push his buttons any further. “Is it true that this Supe can play with memories? Does she change them? Like mind control?”

“Worse.”

You felt his posture suddenly get serious.

“How?”

“The slut has a strange talent that can make you see stupid things, things you desire the most. They’re all fake and all made up stuff. Total bullshit.”

“What happens if you see them, though?”

“It’s impossible to wake up if you are a little pussy. You'd trap yourself like a rat driven by pathetic fake scenarios just because your little brain is a weak shithole and you’re just too scared to face reality. That’s it."

The way he sounded made you even more curious.

“You sound like you experienced it,” you said, raising your eyebrows.

Judging by the way he sounded, you were sure he experienced every single thing he mentioned. But what could be Soldier Boy's nightmare or dream? You were dying to know what he desired the most. What on earth would be his dream? He always looked so confident and sure of himself. It was like there would be nothing in the world he would ever desire. Of course, it would be Crimson Cuntess. Remembering the way he looked at her with disappointment made your stomach crumble in pain and despair.

“Absolutely nothing,” he insisted. “Only pussies desire things they can't get, right? I am smart, and I can have everything I want, sweetheart.”

“I thought it would be Crimson Countess,” you murmered, hoping he would not get mad. You needed him to deny it so bad.

Looking at him with pleading eyes and waiting patiently, he looked genuinely lost in thought for a moment.

“Jealous?”

Looking away, you said, “Why on earth would I be jealous?” You would make him believe you easily if you did not sound that needy and weren't flushed. You could never be completely honest with him. How could you?

Putting his left hand on your chin, he murmured. “You’re so obvious.. Do you really think I’m not aware of the way you look at me?”

With a heavy heart, you looked up at him with beseeching eyes.

“I don't understand what you mean at all.”

“You do,” he insisted indifferently. “I know, you wish you were her, I know you’re so envious of her that you would even let me fuck you as I like it if I made a move, right?” he paused and snickered. Your heartbeat skipped at his harsh words.

You made a move to get away from him, but his grip on your chin tightened hard enough to hurt, so you stopped moving, surrending his cruelty for a moment to catch your breath and let him do whatever he had on his mind.

Despite his roughness, you put your hand on his daring one softly, savoring his touch unintentionally as you try to push him away with helpless and meaningless attempts, hoping to show your affection for him. He didn’t make a move. Getting even closer, his broad chest touched yours ungently. Ben curled his lips into a mischievous smile and lowered his hand to where your heart is. When you felt his forearm touch your nipple, you gasped for breath and struggled determinedly not to melt into his warm touch.

Knowing his hand could easily rip your heart from your chest in a second should have been enough to take him out of your heart and mind right there, but it was always easier to blame destiny and others for what happened and is about to happen. Moreover, his being that dominant, confident, and powerful made your stomach curl in excitement.

“You’re wrong, Ben,” you denied.

You were angry at yourself for being like this and feeling that way. Between all things.. your sister and everything that happened in the last few months- you let your thoughts be driven into something you should stay away from in the very first place. Coming to your senses and accepting the truth about yourself hurt more than Ben’s words. You could never be at his level, but you let your fantasies take over your logic.

As you struggled not to melt into his touch, you tried harder to get away from him, hoping it would convince him. You mumbled, “You’re hurting me.”

His grasp was indeed firm, but it did not hurt at all. You just wanted to save yourself from the intensity of his seductive presence since you did not know if you could resist this irresistible pull for one more minute.

He pulled away his hands from you but remained still.

“How can you fucking normals endure being that weak, huh? You know, I could kill you without even using half my strength, right? It must take great energy and luck to survive,” he said mockingly.

You wanted to say he was nothing without Compound V in his veins, that he wasn’t naturally the strongest but a made-up product. However, it wouldn’t be smart at all to say such a thing. Supes were not known for having reasonable conversations and handling criticism. Maybe Supes were physically the strongest breed, whose emotional and narcissistic fragility was suppressed under their thick skin. And Ben’s short temper wasn’t something you’d want to face.

You both jumped when a noise coming from the second floor filled the house. Ben’s eyes were down. He was probably nervous considering he could potentially be put to sleep by the supe. Unlike Ben, you took a step right up the stairs, tightening your grip on the pistol and holding your breath.

“Be fucking slow,” he warned you, but it was more like he meant to threaten you.

You turned to him and whispered, “Hey, who’s being a pussy right now?”

“Don’t fucking provoke me.”

“Hey,” you said, giving him a playful wink. “I’ll always protect you.” Just before he said something, you’d seen supe’s dark figure behind Ben. Your eyes were fixed on each other. His body tensed with anger as his patience grew thin. He was about to lose his temper, knowing he should kill her without meeting the eye of the fucking bitch. He simply did not know how to do it. Before he turned around, you shot at the darkness randomly, trying to stir panic in the supe. The darkness of the room was in your favor until you met the heinous eyes of the supe just before Ben caught her and slammed her on the floor with a furious growl.

next chapter

A/N: I'm not built for this.

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #the boys series #jensen ackles #the boys #the boys tv #jensen ackles soldier boy #the boys season 3 #soldier boy the boys #the boys amazon #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles the boys #the boys soldier boy

[666writingcafe]

Solomon: A Horror Movie

Inspired by the following reblog from @kimiko-dear: Solomon appears in front of people with a special dish he made just for them--the horror doesn't end after the jump scare.

Not gonna lie, kinda ran away with this concept.

It was his greatest experiment yet. He bought a bunch of ingredients that many people--even the cashier at the grocery store--warned him to not mix together. Ever the scientist, he wanted to know why he received such warnings and what would happen if he disregarded them. As it turns out, the ingredients in question had magical qualities that, when combined, came out in cursed ways. Thankfully, no one died from Solomon's experiment, but he made sure to record the results of each of his test subjects (or victims, depending on who you ask).

Since MC is his beloved apprentice, he spared them from his diabolical experiment, although he made sure to tell them all about it in great detail (which makes MC quite uneasy).

He also does not perform this experiment on Luke: a, because he's the angel equivalent of a child; and b, because Solomon knows Simeon would do unspeakable things to him if he hurt Luke in any way (things that would make him wish he was dead).

Speaking of Simeon, the angel is Solomon's first subject/victim. The sorcerer prepares what appears to be a simple sandwich and presents it to his roommate by sneaking up on him as he's in the middle of writing. The sandwich causes Simeon to experience random chills.

Barbatos knows that this is coming from a mile away and tries everything in his power to avoid Solomon. In the end, though, the butler finds himself trapped in the castle's kitchen and has no choice but to consume the paella thrust in front of him. He starts developing spots all over his body.

Solomon sneaks Belphie's cursed enchilada to him while he's sleeping in the attic. MC tries to warn the youngest brother to not eat the enchilada, but by the time they get to him, it's too late: Belphie is now a talking toad.

You know that one character in a horror movie that's screaming their ass off as the villain is chasing them? That's Mammon as soon as he hears Solomon's footsteps. Only the two of them know how the calzone ended up in his mouth, but the entire House (and possibly anyone within a 100 mile radius) hears him screeching that he's developed elephant ears.

There are times where Asmo is sharp as a whip and other times where he's a huge airhead. Unfortunately for him, Solomon catches him in one of his ditzy moods, and he happily accepts the chimichanga that the sorcerer prepared for him. Like Mammon, his screams echo throughout the House as he discovers that his nose has turned into a snout (and not a cute one, either).

Solomon almost gives into the urge to prepare a dish for Diavolo but ultimately decides against it. As soon as MC hears about this, they practically sprint to the castle and into Diavolo's room. Not only does MC need a break from the insanity unfolding around them, but they absolutely intend on punishing Solomon for his actions and wants the demon prince's help in making sure justice is served.

MC receives text updates from Solomon about his next three victims. Beel ate chili that made him shoot up three feet, Satan's sushi performed a gender swap on him, and the cake Levi consumed turned him into a living, mute statue.

And then MC gets a call from Lucifer that makes them see red. You see, Solomon prepared the eldest brother some soup and left it in his office with a note forged in MC's handwriting. Lucifer was just tired enough to not question it too much and consequently ate the soup; now, he's hallucinating. You see, due to the trauma that Lucifer has gone through during his existence, anything he hallucinates turns nightmarish real quickly, and so he's basically sobbing as he's relaying to MC what he's seeing.

Diavolo has to physically stop MC from hunting Solomon down and tearing him limb to limb. While the demon prince thinks that MC's fury is completely justified, he believes that the sorcerer deserves a more drawn-out punishment where everyone that consumed his abominations gets their due revenge.

#obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me barbatos #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me mammon #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me diavolo #obey me lord diavolo #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me satan #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me brothers #obey me lucifer

[bowieandqueen11]

Looking After A Sick Billy Butcher Would Include...

Request: I love your Billy Butcher headcanons so much! 🥰 If you are looking for another Billy Butcher idea i think either 'Looking after a Sick Billy Butcher' or 'Billy Butcher with a Plus Size reader' would be adorable, as your Steven Grant ones are so beautifully written 💕 thank you for all your incredible writing, you are truly amazing 💐

Oh thank you so much @missscarlettangel!!! You’re always the loveliest and kindest

Warning: a little strong language and slight NSFW!

(I do not own The Boys or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @9thblogboyz.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Billy Butcher is such a dramatic ass hoe when’s sick dearie me. If you think he’s an annoying git before this, just wait until the sniffles start settling in, the man could annoy a saint to high heaven.

The man will not stay in bed. At all. You came into the home base to immediately be greeted with a near-crying Hughie and near-fuming Kimiko trying to wrestle the a**hole down onto his bed. Naturally, this ended with Hughie flying back and landing ass over tea cup through the bed side table and half off the wall, and Kimiko releasing her failing grip on his arm in shock. As soon as Billy spots you standing there, he comes swaggering out from the room, clad in his black jumper and jeans and pretending that he’s ‘alright, love. Me ‘ead is just a bit unda the weather today, that’s all.’ Even with his slick words, you can tell by how sweaty his forehead is that the man is about to keel over. He’s so damn stubborn - too prideful to admit that he could ever have a fault, but deep down, he’s also scared stricken to think he has an exploitable weakness when he’s supposed to be the big mad Charcuter. He’ll only let you touch him: and so you do, wrapping an arm past the buckles of his belt and holding onto the thick muscles around his hip. He jauntily wraps an arm around your shoulder, pretending to be as cocky as ever as you stroll him towards the living area.

‘Thanks darlin’, he whispers against the tip of your ear with a ragged breath. ‘I couldn’t take the yammering of them two cunts in my face any more. I’m glad you’re back now, we got a new job-’. He lets go of you, fisting his hand and hacking a cough against it until you push him down on the sofa to make him nap.

He’s literally that knackered that he passes out pretty much straight away. You sigh, squatting down near the window to pull off his boots and leave them resting under the perch. You wave at Hughie as he sneaks out on his tip toes like he’s in ‘Scooby Doo’ towards the door and mouths exaggeratedly at you that he’s ‘going to get some soup’. Once you’re done smiling him out, you lift Butcher’s head and wiggle onto the sofa underneath him, gently squishing his cheek back down onto your lap. For once you’re overjoyed that M.M. and Frenchie are busy arguing as they stand in front of a makeshift cork board in the safe, or Billy would never let you hear the end of it for making look like such a sap. You’re stuck there for a while: Billy whimpers in his sleep, his arms ending up at some point wrapping around your knees and sticking you in place under his thick biceps. 

The man is still clambering all over you as soon as he wakes up though. It could be the literal raining hell fire of the end of days washing down on the two of you and Billy Butcher would still be trying to climb over you like a tree. Not even in a fully sexual way - he adores you more than anything in this world, and needs some kind of constant touch when he’s feeling unsure as a reassurance that you’re still real. That you haven’t left him yet too. That he hasn’t destroyed you. You could be be sitting cross legged on the sofa next to him, huffing as you pull the blanket back up his shoulders every time Billy grumbles and pulls it off again. Dropping the cup of tea he was sipping, he uses his large fingers to quickly grab yours and pound them both down on the table. The desperation is evident in every sharp movement: the way he’s straight to grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap till you’re straddling his thick thighs, the pressure of his chin as his stubble scratches the curve of your neck, right under your earlobe. By the smirk you can feel, you know he’s doing it just to tease you, knowing it drives you wild. His arms wrap like an iron vice as he peppers languid, unrushed kisses up your pulse point. Like I’m sorry but can you imagine those coarse, rough, devoting hands running up your shoulders? Those harsh thumbs gripping the back of your head tightly and pulling you back until he’s angled you perfectly? You’re putty in his grasp, and as he grinds his midriff up against you and hears the pained whine fall from your lips, he knows it. He wets his lips, attacking your chin, and then the corner of your mouth - and then he ends up sneezing before his desperate mouth can rove any further.

The problem is, he sneezes exactly as M.M. is walking past; the poor man is just holding a cup of coffee, minding his own business as he goes to read his file in his desk chair. After a moment of standing there in confusion, he runs off to shower and makes Frenchie and Annie hose down his clothes outside for half an hour straight. He spends the rest of the day glaring at Butcher from his desk, taking out antiseptic wipes every ten minutes and spraying a can of air freshener out in his direction with a disgusted frown. 

You know better than to try and feed Billy. The man would literally snap your fingers off. Sadly, Frenchie was still under the illusion that he could just... skirt around this lesson, and came waddling happily towards Butcher with Hughie’s broth in one arm and a holding a spoon with the other. Once the airplane noises start, and the whooshing spoon through the air... well, let’s just say that it is a very lucky coincidence that there was so much traffic down fifth avenue today and the broth was tepid by the time Hughie got back. Two hours later, Frenchie is still running around with wet trousers, picking pieces of celery out of his pants and running after M.M. every time he calls him ‘pee pee boy’.

Billy always acts as if everyone’s annoying the heck out of him, but in reality, he just wants to be left alone with you for a while. By ten o’clock he’s so fed up of Hughie throwing him pity looks, and Frenchie pecking like a mother hen in his face, that he gets up and locks himself in the bathroom just to breathe for a damn minute. When you hesitantly knock twice on the door, and he unlocks it, on the floor is where you find him: curled up with his back to the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest, trying to drown out the memories of how similar the withdrawals from compound V felt as they pound through his brain. You’ll have to sit by his side, huddled up with your arm looped through his stiff one and spreading your fingers out over his kneecap, massaging it. Although he doesn’t like too much physical touch when he’s so withdrawn as he is, if your fingers leave his knee for one second he’ll start whining like a kicked puppy.

You do get to help him change out of his jumper at the end of the night though hm hm (even though he’s bloody perfectly well enough to do it himself and you both know it.) He has that shit eating smirk on his face when he sees you back in his doorway, and he holds his hands out to you, beckoning you towards him. He takes a few steps back once he feels your fingers latch onto the pads of his own, his face lighting into a smile as you draw them down to tug at the hem of the rugged material. Before you can lift it though, he brings his sock round to kick the back of your heel and has you tumbling over the edge of the bed to lie on top of his chest.

And then... *ahem*... well let’s just say that all the clothes came off pretty quickly shall we?

By the way Hughie is literally sinking his face into the cereal bowl the next morning: the way Frenchie is trying to hide his spurts of laughter from where he’s playing cards with Kimiko: how M.M. rolls his eyes and lifts his newspaper to cover his face when the two of you come dandering out of his room, you didn’t manage to be as discrete as a *sick* Billy Butcher believes himself to be. His pair of undies swinging from the ceiling fan all but confirms it.

#the boys #the boys imagine #billy butcher #billy butcher imagine #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher headcanons #karl urban #the boys x reader #the boys headcanons #billy the boys #billy the boys imagine #billy butcher the boys #billy butcher the boys imagine #mm #mothers milk #frenchie #annie january #hughie campbell #kimiko

[mha-haikyuu]

Happy life, Happy...Daughter?

Dad Katuski x mom reader ~~~~

Name: Y/n Bakugou

Age:23

Quirk: fire

Draw backs: major burns on skin and sun burns.

Daughter name: Kimiko Age:3

Warning: swearing {um well it's Bakugou}

~~

You and Katuski had your daughter when you were both young, 20 to be exact, which meant that you both had to immediately stop all of your hero work well any hero work to take care of her.

Kimiko was the light of your lives though and you wouldn't trade her for anything, but today your husband was supposed to be taking her to the agency with him but there was always that last minute call and well he had to go on patrol with Kirishima to catch this really dangerous villain that was setting things up in flames.

Not that he couldn't handle anything in his way but in the process that meant having to break the news to his daughter. It all started at 12AM.

~~ Y/n and her husband were sleeping in the comfort of their bed when Katsuki got a phone call. He was determined to let whoever was calling call and stop calling after the 3rd ring. However, when it got to the 3rd ring, they just kept calling and didn't stop.

Y/n rolled over and hit her husband on the chest and mumbled "Katsuki get up and get your phone, they are not going to stop"

"No, they can wait till morning" "No, it is morning already, get it!"

"Whatever woman" He grumbled turning over to the nightstand and picking up the phone. He looked at the phone and noticed it was his agency.

"What!" He yelled into the phone causing you to hit him again. I was to early for him to be yelling like that and you did not want him to wake up your daughter.

*On the phone*

Agency: You need to be here exacty at 8 in the morning Ground Zero! Katsuki: Ok and why are you calling me to say that you nerd! Agency: Whatever just be here on-

*Hangs up phone*

He proceeds to lay back down while y/n sits up.

"I have to leave early" He says "What! but you were supposed to take Kimiko with you to the agency tomorrow? You know I can't stay home!" You say

"Well you are going to have to please babe, we are so close to catching this villain" He says

You sigh, Staying home from work is always hard because you both decided to alternate days when you take Kimiko to work with you and the days you didn't have her were normally patrol days vs days with her were days filled with meetings.

Today was supposed to be your husbands meeting day and you had patrol, but of course he needed to go on patrol so you had to take Kimiko, and today was not the day to take her to the agency because well it's not toddler proof so you had to stay home with her and call in.

"Ok, I will call in later but you owe me" You say

"Mmhm" He says, yanking you down and wrapping his arm around you. "I love you y/n" "Yeah I know you do"

~~ BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

7:00AM

You both got out of bed and Katsuki went to shower.

You on the other hand went to make so breakfast for when your husband came out to the living room.

When he came out you gave him his breakfast and lunch for the day.

"I will see you too later ok?" He said giving you a kiss on the lips.

"Yeah go catch kick so bad guy ass for us" You said quietly

"Hell yeah I will!" He said walking out of the door.

While your daughter was still sleeping, you decided to go and call your agency and let them know that you couldn't come in today because of some issues. After the brief call you went to do some cleaning around the house and pick up some things off of the floor.

"MOMMY!" you heard from down the hall, You dropped everything you had and and to your daughters room. She was sitting up in her bed with her little ground zero stuffed doll. She looed it because it reminded her of her papa when he was gone on missions and she took it everywhere.

"Kimiko baby?" You said "How was your sleep?" You walked over to her bed

"Good, where's papa?" She asked. She had gotten used to the switching days of going to you guys agency and knew that since she went with you yesterday it was time to go with her dad today.

"He had to leave early" You said picking out her some clothes' for the day.

"But he leave without me?" She said making you sigh.

"He will be back before bed time, but today you and I are going to do whatever you want" You say

Doing whatever she wanted was the easiest way to avoid a tantrum so even if that meant going to her and her papa's favorite cat café just without her papa you would do it.

"But I want papa, our day?" She said getting ready for a melt down.

"I know baby but he will be home later, how about we go to your favorite café? Then you can get your favorite food" You said to her helping her get into her outfit. 

"KATSUDIN!" She yells running to put her shoes on then sitting on the couch.

You nodded and went to get dressed as well. 

15 minutes later you guys were sitting in the café with your food. 

"Mommy? get cat?" Kimiko was holding this really fat black cat that had spots of blond all over it's body. 

"Um I don't know, your papa and I work a lot" You said looking down at you cut but when you looked up the cat and your daughter were staring at you. 

"Uh ok fine." You said getting up to go sign some adoption papers.

~~

A cat, a coffee, and a shopping trip later you guys were home and by now it was 7:00PM and you had just feed Kimiko dinner. Both of you were sitting on the couch with your new cat Aniko when the door jiggled and the the door opened.

"Brat and woman! I am home with a surprise" Katsuki said closing the door.

"PAPA!" Kimiko said running over to where your husband had sat down a large moving bag, he picked her up and hugged her.

"I missed you so much baby" he said giving her a kiss on the forehead. 

You walked up and gave him a hug as well "I missed you too..... king explosion murder" you said laughing casing him to playfully push you.

"I bought you a gift" He said putting his daughter down and picking up the bag. 

"What is it?" She said.

"It is a...." He pulls something out of the bag and your smile drops

Another.... black cat with a ....blond spot...

Kimiko gasps and runs back to the couch and grabs Aniko 

"LOOK MAMA AND PAPA THEY CAN BE SISTERS!" she said making your husbands smirk fall, and he sighs

..."another cat?" He says and you give a sheepish laugh.

"Surprise, Hehe?" 

"I'm gonna call you Mika!" 

Part 2 out soon

#mha x reader #bnha imagines #mha #mha imagines #bnha #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha fluff #bnha bakugou

[queenxxxsupreme]

Before the Sun Rises (Billy Butcher x reader)

A/N: I have so many ideas for Butcher but I can’t seem to nail any of them. So for now, enjoy this shit 

Warnings: nothing outside of canon for the show, just cursing and some fluffy kissing

Word Count: 897

Summary: You and Butcher are up long before anyone else making plans for the day.

From where he was laying in bed, Billy Butcher could hear the sound of rain tapping against the glass windows across the room. Thunder rumbled gently in the sky outside. 

Every now and again, he was sure he could hear whatever music Kimiko and Frenchie were listening to in their room just next to Butcher’s. It wasn’t exciting music. It was peaceful and quiet, something that rarely happened in the boys’ living and working quarters. 

You shifted on the bed, your foot brushing along his bare leg. 

Butcher looked down at you to make sure you were still asleep. It was far too early for you to be awake just yet. The sun hadn’t even come up. 

You repositioned your head on his chest, settling with placing your cheek a little closer to his collarbone.

Butcher moved his hand from the small of your back up to your shoulder blades, drawing a deep breath from you. You stretched just a little, pressing your chest further into his side. 

He smiled just a bit at how peaceful you looked, how comfortable you were tucked safely into his side with his arm around you and your knee hooked over him.

“You should be sleeping.” You hummed. Seconds later, your eyes opened and instantly met his. 

“Says the one who ain’t sleepin’ herself.” He spoke lowly. “What woke ya?”

“You staring at me.” You started to move to get out of bed but he stopped you, keeping his hand firm on your back. 

You lifted your head to look at him.

“Not yet, doll.”

“Just want some coffee.”  You gave him a little kiss on the lips before slipping out from under the blankets. 

“At four thirty in the bleedin’ mornin’?”

“Why not? Will you come with me?” You pulled on a pair of shorts and one of his button down shirts. 

Butcher let out a heavy sigh but agreed. It wasn’t like he was going to sleep anyways. 

“Fine.” 

After he pulled on a pair of pants, you began to make your way down the hallway towards the kitchen. 

“Do you think everyone would like breakfast?” You asked over your shoulder as you began to make coffee. 

“M’sure no one would object. But I don’t think we got the time for that today, doll.” Butcher went over to the table and began to mess with the numerous papers scattered about. He leaned over the mess to get a better look at a paper, then shook his head gently. 

“We have the time.” You hummed, pouring water into the back of the coffee maker. Then you placed the pot under the machine and pressed the start button. 

Your eyes flickered over to Butcher. 

“We have the time if you give it to us.”

“Y/N–,”

“I’m not asking for the whole day, Billy.” You moved towards him. You placed your hand on his bare back, your lips softly kissing a scar on the front of his shoulder. “Just a few hours. Kimiko and the boys need a proper meal. No takeout, no junk food. A good meal.” 

Butcher sighed heavily, tossing the papers in his hands down. 

“Don’t suppose you’re gonna take no for an answer, are ya?”

“No.” You grinned. Your hand continued to rub his back in an attempt to encourage a positive response from him. “Maybe after breakfast, they can clean up while we go get a nice bath together.”

“A bath?” Butcher raised his brows. “The fuck do I look like to you?”

“The kind of guy who would take a bath with me if I asked him to.” You slipped between him and the table so that all of Butcher’s focus had to be on you.

“You’d have better luck killin’ a supe with your bare hands.” Though he sounded irritated with your suggestion, he never moved. He stayed standing so close to you that your hips were pressed together, that he could practically see every speckle of color in your eyes. 

He was amused by you. 

“Oh, you and I both know you can easily be persuaded.” You leaned up to kiss his lips briefly. You started to pull away but his hand came up to hold you just behind the shoulder blade, pulling you in closer to him. 

Your lips met again but this time with more force. 

His other hand found your leg then trailed down until he found the bend in your knee. 

With little effort, he hiked your knee up along his side and practically pushed you back on to the table with his body. 

“Billy, you’re gonna get– Stop it!” You giggled as he started to kiss along your jaw and neck. His beard tickled and pricked your skin in the most delightful way. “Someone’s going to hear us!”

“Fuck ‘em.”

“No, Billy. Billy, wait.” You pressed your hand against his shoulder. 

The moment he felt your hand, he was off of you. He started to draw his hands away but you stopped him, grabbing on to his wrists. 

“Breakfast first.” You looked up at him. “Then we can have fun.”

“In a fuckin’ bath–,”

“Just for me.” Your hands trailed up his arms to his broad shoulders. 

He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. 

“You’re gonna do me in, aren’t ya?”

“Maybe.” You leaned forward to kiss his chest just over his heart. “Only if you ask nicely.”

Taglist: @billybutcherfantasy @would-die-for-bucky-barnes @sojuxxi @salemmea

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x reader fluff #billy butcher fluff #william butcher fluff #william butcher x reader #billy butcher #william butcher #the boys fic #the boys prime #queenxxxsupreme

[eclecticqueennerd]

Confessions

Part 7

*angst, language, violence, dug use, hospital stay*

Part 7

From silence to soft beepings, you slowly begin to open your eyes. You take in your surroundings and see that you’re in a hospital bed, covered with thin blue blanket, wires protruding from the hospital gown and hooked up to cardiac monitors. Your arm felt itchy and when you went to scratch, you saw an IV line connected. In the corner of the sectioned-off room sleeping in a chair was Butcher. He looks like he was ridden hard and put away wet, his furrowed brow and scowl appeared to be a permanent look on his face. You went to sit yourself up, and a dull pain throbbed in your abdomen. Just before you peel back the blankets to inspect your belly, the curtains are gently peeled back.

“Oh my god!” The nurse exclaims. Butcher wakes up and nearly leaps out of the chair, eyes wildly scanning the room. His eyes land on you, and you see the tension released from his features. “I’ll fetch the doctor.” The nurse rushes away. Butcher slowly approaches you and pulls the chair up to the side of the bed.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Just pieces. I remember there as a blast and a sharp pain. I helped MM, he was unconscious and woke up, then I blacked out.”

“Holy shit.” The two of you turn your attention to the doctor that just walked into the room. “Pardon me. Do you have any idea how lucky you are Mrs. Butcher?” Your eyes go wide with the name. You look at Butcher and his eyes are cast down towards the floor. You look back at the doctor,

“No, please explain.”

“You suffered a penetrating wound to your abdomen from some wooden debris. At some point, your husband tells us that the object was knocked further into the soft tissue. When you were brought here, we attempted to stabilize you but, in the end, we had to rush you to surgery. The object narrowly missed your major blood vessels but perforated your large intestine and we had to resect the damaged tissue. With the intestinal perforation we expected peritonitis to occur, which it did. We placed you on IV fluids and antibiotics to help destroy the infection and to prevent dehydration. Due to your body’s reaction to shock and the damage from the debris, we estimated your prognosis to be grim, but here you are, a miracle of God.”

“If that cunt existed and did his job, she wouldn’t be hurt in the first place.” The doctor looked at Butcher, flabbergasted.

“I’m sorry, what I meant was it's almost like… never mind. I'm glad you're doing well. I’d like to run some additional tests just to make sure the infection is gone and your heart is okay. We’ll be back in a moment.” The doctor and nurse step out of the room. You twist your hands in your lap.

“Mrs. Butcher huh?” Butcher chuckles.

“They needed a last name.”

“So, you gave them yours?”

“Hmph.” Silence fell between the two of you.

“How long have I been here?” Butcher stressfully rubs his beard.

“Butcher, how long have I been in the hospital?”

“… Three days.”

“Three days! There’s no way I can heal from a trauma like that in three days!”

“What about your powers? Don’t you have accelerated healing and all that?”

“Don’t you remember what happened to Kimiko after she jumped in front of Ben, I mean, Soldier Boy? She was hospitalized and she lost her powers. There’s no way that I still have my powers after a blast like that.”

“She also stepped right in front of him where you were in the other room.” Butcher got up and slid his chair back into the corner. He threw his trench coat on and avoided eye contact.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“I told you everythin’.”

“No, you’re hiding something. What is it?” Butchers face twists in affliction. He mumbles something.

“What?”

“I said, I gave you Temp-V.”

“You… why?” Butcher sighs and sits down on the chair again, head in his palms he laments,

“When those cunts said that you were gonna die and to prepare myself, I couldn’t let it happen. I snuck in here after hours and filled your IV bag with a vial of Temp-V.”

“Why would you do that? I thought you hated supes.”

“ The boys love you too much, it would destroy 'em. We couldn't lose you again, I couldn’t lose you again.” Butcher's voice cracked and his hard exterior softened, he started shuffling his feet on the floor. He had a look on his face that he wanted to tell you something.

“Billy…” Then *ping* his phone went off.

“Okay Mrs. Butcher I’m just going to grab some blood samples and run an EKG, when those results are back and if everything looks good, you can go home to rest.” Butcher clicked off his phone and approached the side of your hospital bed.

“I gotta go. Grace will come pick you up and she’ll take you back to hers. I’ll come to check on ya after I'm done.”

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I gotta work love.” Butcher leans down and gives you a peck on the forehead. The butterflies in your stomach started fluttering. “I’ll see ya later. Oh, by the way, you’ll want this for later. When the medicine wears off.” Butcher slides a small baggie under the blanket giving you a knowing look.

“From my experience, it’s worse than any hangover.” He calls out as he leaves the room. The nurse turns to you and smiles.

“Men am I right? Always so dramatic about everything. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine getting of the IV meds. Worst case, you develop a little diarrhea.” If only she knew…

*

Staying at Graces house was incredibly relaxing. Staying out in the middle of nowhere, away from all the hustle and bustle listening to the sounds of the birds and the rustling of the trees. You set your bags in your designated room and made your way to the kitchen and sat at the counter. Grace enters the room,

“Sorry, I don’t have dinner made. Butcher sprang this on me.”

“Oh no it’s fine. Thank you for letting me crash here. I hope I’m not imposing.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re the only one out of those guys I can tolerate. Just promise me you won’t bring any bullshit to my house.”

“Oh, I promise.”

“Okay well, I’m going to bed. Help yourself to anything you find.”

“Good night, Grace. Oh! Maybe tomorrow we can go bird watching. I hear the wood thrush are around this time of year.”

“I’d like that.”

*

You ran to the bathroom, flipped the lid up on the toilet and vomited a bright neon green substance. You felt a searing migraine through your head suddenly and it hurt to keep your eyes open. Sweat was forming on your brow and chills bolted through your body. Your hands began to shake. You vomited again in the toilet. Grace came into the bathroom and attempted to get you up off the floor next to the toilet.

“I told Butcher not to do it, the jackass.”

“If it weren’t for him, I’d be dead.” Grace gently placed you on the soft mattress. She left the room to only come back with a glass of water, a puke bowl and the plastic baggie Butcher gave you earlier.

“Here, drink this.” You sipped on the cool water. Grace took one joint out of the baggie and lit it. “Smoke this, it will help.” You took a drag and held it in your lungs for a moment, then exhaled. A few more drags and the nausea subsided. You drank the rest of the glass of water and laid down in bed; sleep found you shortly after.

*

Sitting in the rocking chair on the back porch, looking out towards the wilderness, emerald trees as far as the eye can see. The withdrawal of the Temp-V from the night before has gone away with multiple glasses of water, Tylenol, and pot. Grace went to the store to grab more groceries, so it was completely quiet, besides the birds singing their hearts out. You begin to doze off, missing the crunching of gravel of an approaching car. A car door slammed, and heavy footsteps approached the wooden deck. You become alert and jump up from your spot on the rocking chair. You see Butcher approaching,

“Is everything o-” Butcher leans down and gently locks his lips with yours. You froze. You were not expecting this, but you kissed him back with as much gentleness. The two of you separate from the kiss, heavily panting.

“Well, that was unexpected.”

“Where’s Grace?”

“She’s out running errands.” Butcher leans down and scoops you into his arms and carries you to your bedroom bridal style.

@deans-spinster-witch@butchers-girl@syrma-sensei@xmariakx

#billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #frenchie #karl urban #mothers milk #the boys #the boys amazon #kimiko the boys #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #jensen ackles #angst #the boys series #the boys season 3 #the boys tv #homelander #reader insert #female reader #Spotify

[z3nitsusgf]

sewn into my silver lining 

billy butcher | you - 2.3k 

cw: angst angst angst, no happy ending, mention of blood and violence, butcher being butcher, toxic dynamics

a/n: he’s sad pathetic and sad i hope his brain turns to swiss cheese fr (affectionately)  

He comes to you bloodied and dripping in viscera.

Frenchie and Kimiko are off getting supplies, probably smooching in the middle of the snack aisle. Hughie is busy at work, being cushy with Neuman and getting his bagels stolen from his boss. MM is with his daughter, couldn’t be bothered with Butcher’s bullshit anymore. So that leaves you, sweet ol’ you, to take care of the English bastard when he comes blazing through the place.

Butcher doesn’t say much when he pushes open the door and stalks inside. His boots left red sticky patterns on the tile. He’s spattered in blood, the color so deep it looks almost black on his jacket. Another one of his ugly Hawaiian button-up’s ruined because he’s too in love with the feeling of fighting. His face smeared in the irony liquid and god - he reeks of copper and dirt.

Your lips curl at the sight of him. You’ve long since grown used to the sight, but he usually makes an attempt to clean up before he sees you. He says it’s because he doesn’t wanna hear your bitching, but you know deep down he’s saving you the anxiety of having to see him like that.

When he looks at you he gives you a wide feral smile, teeth glinting a pearly white, “Ello love, m’home.”

You can tell he’s exhausted, whether it’s physically or mentally you can’t decipher. Probably both knowing him. You scoff at his words, shaking your head as you glance over his stumbling body. He’s a wreck.

“You look like hell Butcher. What happened, ass-bomb another supe?” He fucking laughs because of course he does, his hands clutching his bruised ribs as he wheezes out breathy chuckles. Every exhale makes his eyes water, the fluttering along his ribcage shows signs of hairline fractures, a bitch to heal.

He’ll never ask for your help, only taking it when he needs it. Still, you offer it anyways.

“Good one love, but no.” He doesn’t explain anymore and you don’t ask. He gets cagey when you prod him for answers and you don’t really feel like dealing with a cunty Butcher right now.

You sigh, getting up from your place on the ragged couch. You don’t bother to turn off the TV, it's nice to have the background noise when he doesn’t speak. You’re pointing to the bathroom, a knowing look on your face.

“Come on old man, you smell like shit.” His thick brows draw up and he looks at you with a straight face, the smirk dropping off his mouth. You almost laugh, biting back the chuckle as he curls his lip at you.

“M’not that old.” He grumbles, allowing you to wrap your arm around his waist and guide him to the bathroom.

“Mhmm, yeah. Whatever helps you sleep at night, geezer.” He rolls his eyes at your words, hiding his smile.

The place is not glamorous, the building is old as shit and better left for rats and junkies. But it makes sure you all are hidden from The Seven, Homelander especially. You won’t lie though, you miss your clean, nice bathroom from your old apartment. This one is dingy, glowing with a gross-looking fluorescent that buzzes so loud you think you’ll go deaf. The porcelain tub is permanently stained with.. you don’t know what. But there’s clean(?) water and electricity, so you can’t complain too much.  

He sheds his coat, the poor thing has seen more carnage than you will in your entire life, and he sits on the closed lid of the toilet, rolling his neck in a tired manner. The bones crack, the soft warm gush floods the nerves and he sighs out in relief.

You already know the drill, pulling out a relatively clean rag and running it under the tap and a small plastic first-aid kit. You stand between his legs, dabbing at the cut on his cheekbone with the damp cloth. He doesn’t flinch or wince or even make snarky comments while you clean his bloodied face, trying to be gentle with the cuts and bruises that littered his skin. The faded yellow and blue kiss all over his skin, disappearing into his beard where you know more scars lie.

“You need to be more careful.” You mumble, swiping along his forehead.

He grins, a cheeky smile on his lips, “Why? Ya worried about dear ol’ me?”

You scoff, pushing the rag harder against his skin. He just smiles harder at the pain, the lines of his face showing as he leers up at you.

“No, I’m just running out of bandages because you keep getting your ass handed to you.” You sass back, huffing at him like he’s a stubborn dog. And he is. A stubborn old dog that’s learned his tricks and won’t drop them now because they’re embedded into his system like cancer.

“Besides, you gotta keep this pretty face intact. What will Hughie do if you lose your teeth and have to get dentures?”

You pat his cheek in a mocking manner and Butcher clicks his tongue. He comes up and pinches the side of your waist, reveling in the yelp you give him.

“Don’t act like you don’t adore this pretty face.”

You go back to wiping the carnage from his face, humming under your breath. He is very pretty, handsome like the moon. With high resting cheekbones, how his words drip from his lips like nectar. Down to the sloping breach of his nose and the puffy waterline of his sunken eyes, blinking under heavy lashes. He’s an old type of beauty, one that gets better as he ages. You’ll never admit that to him though, you’ll just admire it from far, occasionally getting to touch it when he allows you to.

It’s the little things that you know about him that give you clarity. Those small quirks only you know or notice. Like the silent way he observes the world around him. And the blank way he stares into space and seemingly disappears into his own void. The way he clasps his palms together and holds them like a prayer, keeping them close to his thighs. the way he likes his coffee - strong with lots of sugar in it and no cream).

You’re both bathed in the glow of the bathroom, the faint buzzing of the lights and the scattered talking of the TV all blend together in a calm haze. It all feels too domestic.

You’re a sweet thing, like Hughie. Young, with the world at your feet. and Butcher is dragging you down with him. He hates that he doesn’t have the heart to let you go. To tell you that none of this is worth it, that he’s self-serving and bad for you. Butcher keeps his eyes down, dark eyelashes fluttering with each soft drag of the cool fabric across his heated skin. He hardly notices the sting of the water seeping into his cuts.  It feels good, he doesn’t remember the last time someone touched him so softly. Years, he thinks. When she used to-

There’s a tenderness you show him. Like gentle April rain, you shower him in a sweetness he does not deserve. One that makes his lips purse and his jaw tick, one that reminds him too much of her.

You’re too focused on debating whether or not he’ll need stitches to notice his change in demeanor. Butcher grabs your wrist, fingers tightening around the bone. You can’t tell if he’s trying to push you away or pull you in.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, voice too soft for someone like him. You smooth your other hand over his hairline, uncaring of the sweat and blood that coats the pads of your fingers. What isn’t wrong? This whole façade is slipping out of his hands and he can’t keep pretending he’s not tired of getting up each time he gets knocked down. This world is so cruel, has been so cruel. And he doesn’t know what to do with it all.

He’s so full of rage. It’s dangerous to keep it all inside. A man only has a grip as tight as he does because he knows that if he lets go, even slightly, he will hurl himself into the abyss. He needs to hate the whole world and everything in it. Butcher doesn’t shed his pain, instead, he upholds it like a boulder over his shoulders.

He looks up at you, he feels himself wanting to just let you in. Just give up and crumble into your chest. There’s a pull in his chest that begs him to just completely open himself up to you. Let you smooth over his scarred wounds and heal the new ones. But he won’t.

His eyes harden and he’s letting go to smack your hand away from his face, the sting spreads across the back of your palm. Your lips part at the feeling.

“Quit treating me like I’m your fuckin’ daddy, cause I ain’t. You want someone to take care of so badly why don’t you get a fuckin’ dog.”

You joined knowing what kind of man he is. Hell-bent on getting rid of supes and stubborn as a mule. William Butcher was no saint, but he’s more broken than he’ll ever admit.  But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t burn whenever he’s mean.

“I-“

He’s snarling, lacing his tone with so much hot-spit rage that you draw back,

“You’re so fucking clingy n’ pathetic. You always need one of us to save ya and ya can’t even handle a bit of roughing up.”

You should be used to it by now, the brutal humiliation and the way he flips on a dime. You’ve seen it, with Hughie and Kimiko. But you’re not. You’re still soft in the center, still raw and open, still too naïve.

He’s not looking at you, he’s staring past you. Behind your silhouette and at the flickering of the bathroom light that casts dark shadows on the peeling wall. His jaw is clenched so hard you’re almost worried about him chipping his teeth, there’s a vein that pops on his forehead.

You clench the rag tighter in your fist, there are salty crystalline tears that prick your waterline. You always hate crying in front of the boys, especially Butcher.

“Fuck you, you’re such-“ You inhale shakily, the air so hot and humid you want to choke.

“You’re such an asshole, Butcher.”

It’s juvenile at best, your shitty little comeback is all you can throw back in his face. Words he’s heard a million times. He chuckles, eyes roaming over your face, he sees the glassy look in your eyes, the lip tucked between your teeth. He lands the final blow, severing it completely.  

“One of us has to be. Can’t have you ruinin’ everything just cause you’re too weak to get it done.”

He twitches at the breathy inhale you give. He’s got this clenched look on his face, the plane of his features so blank you want to just crumble on the spot. His mouth is pursed, eyebrows drew together in a way that shows he’s serious.

How does he always manage to make you feel bad for wanting to be good?

Butcher knows he’s a piece of shit, knows that you’re just an innocent thing that got caught in the cross-fire. He’s always pushed and pushed and pushed everyone’s boundaries, to see how far they can go before they leave. But he still wants to punch himself when he hears your sniffles. The quiet quiver of your lip and the subtle tremble in your knuckles as you completely pull back from between his thighs.

He misses your warmth.

Sometimes you hate him, sometimes you wish he’d just disappear and never come back like he often threatened to do when everyone was getting too soft. Like right now, you want to smack him in the mouth for being so… so mean. You know it’s stupid, childish, but you want him to understand.

But then he saddles up to you like a beaten dog. Looking at you with soft dark eyes and giving you a worn smile that makes your heartache. You hate to admit that Butcher has wormed his way in, like smoke in your clothes. You always knew he would come back, even if he never made any promises. A silly childish part of you always hoped that he would stay.

Maybe that’s your mistake, thinking he would ever soften up. Even if it was for you.

He’s silent, brooding, acting like it’s not even a big deal. That makes you snap, the disregard he has for everyone. You snarl at him, lips curling over your teeth as you bare your incisors at him. You fling the rag into his face, turning on your heel as you call out over your shoulder,

“Clean yourself up or don’t, I don’t fucking care.”

Your tone is so watery, so filled with that tiredness that Frenchie and MM have. It makes him sick. Butcher jumps slightly when he hears you slam the front door. He can hear your boots as they stalk away, the muffled sniffles coming from your nose. he knows you’ll go off, whether to cry or be alone (or both), but he doesn’t make any move to stop you.

He’s alone.

He knows you’ll come back. Knows that in the dark of night you’ll slip back into the apartment. And if not, Kimiko and Frenchie will go and find you, pleading with you to come back and give it another chance. They always do.

Butcher clings to the rag you threw at him, fisting the material as he grits his teeth.

Why is he like this? Why can’t he just be satisfied with what he has? Why must he always crave more? Why is it so goddamn exhausting to keep himself indifferent? He’s never felt sad, only despair. Never mad, only full of resentment. He’s never been embarrassed, he only knows humiliation. And he loathes to feel this way because he constantly searches his brain for a time he was truly joyous, but he always comes up empty.

Always his fault, always. You’re just another unfortunate soul that got too close, bearing the brunt of his oozing heart.

#val.writes ❦ #the boys.✮ #the boys x reader #the boys x you #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x y/n #billy butcher x you #billy butcher #the boys #the boys angst #billy butcher angst

[screechingengineerdreamer]

Reassurance 🖤

Billy butcher x (female reader)(no y/n)

Summary : You finally tell butcher how much you love him 🥹🖤

Warnings: Smut, piv, dirtytalk, mention of death, swearing, mention of drugs (compound V lmfao), praise kink, lemme know if there are any more !

Fandom : The boys obvi (if you haven't watched please do it's on prime)

Note : English isn't my first language so THERE WILL BE MISTAKES ‼️‼️ im sorry about that and i'll do my best 🫶🏻

I aldo changed the story just a little bit so not everything is 100% accurate !!

Let's go 👻

As I help Kimiko with her calligraphy on the couch, i hear hughie and M.M arguing but they are too far for me to properly hear them. It's been days since we haven't seen Billy and i've been so worried. It's not unusual but everytime he leaves our spot im scaredd of him never coming back. Since my hushand died because of Homelander, he has been the first one to make me feel safe again. I love him so much but with our hidden lifestyle, there is no time for love. After Kimiko's done with her "homework" for the day, i leave her to watch tv and join frenchie next to the rest of the boys.

-The funny thing is that i called butcher an hour ago. He chuckles to himself.

-So they're fussing about butcher ? I look at frenchie in disbelief. I swear M.M's going lose it soon.

-Imbéciles.. (Idiots).He mumbles before glancing at them again.

I feel bad for hughie, he must be feeling so unsafe and alone without his dad... I don't know anything about him except for Transculent but it's obvious that this hidden part of the world is new to him.

We suddenly hear some groans and some noises on the floors above us. I run next to Kimiko and point my gun at the stairs when one of Frenchie's friend fall from the top of the stairs in a pained whimper. All of a sudden, Butcher appears at the top of the stairs with a wicked smile. Everyone lowers their guns after frenchie does. That's when Hughie loses it.

-You fucking called butcher, Frenchie ? He asks. Hughie walks up to Frenchie rapidly.

-Yes i did, we need butcher to get out of this shit hole espèce de bâtard. (You bastard)

Hughie gets aggressive with frenchie but butcher stops him easily before anything bad happens.

Butcher walks up to hughie and after a quick pep talk with him, hughie calms down a bit.

-But don't you worry, daddy's home. Butcher says, looking around before making eye contact with me.

That smile will always make my heart skip a beat.

But i realise soon enough that his chest is bleeding alot. His coat is barely covering the scarlet circle on his aloha shirt.

Time skip (Few hours)

After the boys and I finished creating a plan, we decided to take the evening to relax before leaving tomorrow. Everyone's watching tv except for hughie who's probably crying in his room (aka one of the closet 💀). Butcher's sitting at the dining table while im making him something to eat.

-Did you need anything else? I ask him, placing his plate on the table.

-No no you've already done enough.

-Butcher. I look at him with a serious face.

-What? He says, mouth full of cheap mac and cheese.

-I know you're bleeding, i saw it through your shirt.

-It's ok. Don't worry 'bout that.

I glance at him but do not insist.

After a couple hours, everyone went to sleep except for butcher, i was still awake and i couldn't sleep knowing he was probably in awful pain right now. This motherfuker was so god damn stubborn.

That's why i got up and brought the med kit with me to the dining room where billy was.

The gentle moonlight was the only source of light in the room. I could only see his lonely silhouette sat on the chair. I clear my throat.

-Butcher, please let me at least put you a bandage, you lost alot of blood. You ask quietly.

-I told you i didn't needed one. Go back to sleep.

That man will be the death of me.

I walk in front of him, admiring his face.

-I won't go to sleep until i know you are patched up.

He stands up slowly and looks at me dead in the eyes. I can see his eyebrows frowning.

-I ain't gon' tell you twice, go. To. Sleep. He says, putting his hands in his pockets.

I feel so annoying but i need to know he will be fine.

-Billy, i swear to god let me patch you up real quick and then i'll go to-

-Listen, i fucking told you to leave, now get outta my face before i make you.

I glance at him angrily and try to lift his shirt. Before i reach the hem of it he takes my hand and slam it on the table, holding it on the surface. I look at him with shock.

-Billy, Im just trying to help yo-

-You aren't helping me right now you're just annoying.

This bitch was getting on my fucking nerves, but i needed to take care of him. I already lost so much people, i cannot lose him.

-Come on billy let me do this i don't want you to be in pain i love yo-

My eyes widen and i put my free hand on my mouth before saying another word.

He glances at me with a small shocked look on his face and he slowly let go of my hand.

-What did you say? He looks at me tenderly.

Something's not right, why isn't he making fun of me ?

Anxiety took over my body as my legs became weak. I couldn't stop looking at his face.

Why would did i say that ? He doesn't like me, he just said i was annoying. I finally turn my head to the side, breaking eye contact.

-Hey, look at me.

I looked at him slowly and realised he was smiling seductively.

I couldn't believe my eyes, he was so god damn beautiful. Someone give me a fucking medal.

-You serious ? He asks, looking at my lips.

Mental note : Change underwear cause the one im wearing are soaked.

I get taken back by his reaction, but since i said it, let's go with it. After all it's the truth.

-Yes, yes i am.

My cheeks must be so red right now.

He looks at me with puppy eyes and i can almost hear his heart beating.

-I swear if it's one of your jokes i will kill you with my bare hands right now.

I start playing with the hem of my vest.

-I love you william.

Billy puts his hand on my cheek and gives me a soft smile.

-You really do ? He asks.

-I always loved you.

He starts to kiss me slowly at first, almost like he's scared to hurt me, but when he sees that im enjoying it, he puts his hands around my waist and presses me against his chest. He picks me up and put my legs around his hips, sitting me on the counter. I laughs a bit and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, deepening the kiss. I moan into the kiss as he caress my thigh with his hand.

Billy picks me up again, brings me to his bedroom, and throws me on the small bed before removing his coat. He goes on top of me and starts kissing my neck agressively.

-I dreamed about this so often, sweet girl.

-You did ?

Just the thought of him dreaming about me made me wetter. How will i survive this.

-Since the firs' time i saw you.

He kisses my earlobe and lift my shirt before pressing soft kisses on my lower belly.

-Let me take care of you, love.

He looks at me with that iconic smile before unbuttoning my pants, lowering his kisses until he reaches my soaked panties.

-Looks like you dreamed about this too huh?

-Show me how much you wanted this, Butcher.

He puts my panties to the side before pressing small kisses on my slit. My body aches for his touch, i must be dreaming, because this is impossible. Having the butcher, William butcher, on his knees, ready for me, sounds so impossible.

He finally buries his face in my cunt and it takes me so much control not to be loud. His hands hold my thighs around his face while he sucks on my clit, making me already feel that familiar feeling i missed so much.

-So beautiful.. he mumbles under his breath.

I moan his name and put my hand on his head, guiding where i want him, where im aching.

He stands up, leaving my unsatified cunt and he unbuckles his belt, lowering his pants until i see his cock, already leaking a bead of precum. He is huge. I shouldn't act suprised, but his size doesn't fail to hypnotise me..

-Eyes up here beautiful. He says, now unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his strong chest and arms.

I see the wound he had on the side of his chest and i get up, thanking the universe he has a med kit in his room.

-Now, you shut up and let me patch you up or i swear i will-

-Calm down, pretty girl, go ahead, patch me up. He says, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I smile at him before sitting beside him.

I start to clean the wound but his finger start to draw small circles around my clit, making it more difficult for me to heal him.

I moan his name, trying my best to stay focused but he picks me up and sits me on his lap, not so far from his cock.

After a couple minutes, i finally close the med kit and hum at the kisses he gives me.

-Finally.

He lies down on the bed carefully not to ruin the bandage he has on. He lift me up and lines my heat with his cock.

-You ready for this, love ? He looks at me with a beautiful smile.

-Yes, please william make me feel good.

He pushes me down his groin, and i can't stay quiet. He puts his hand on my mouth, keeping me quiet while he puts his tongue on my breast, teasing me.

I try and grind down on him, but he is holding me down with his free hand.

-Please william.

-So desperate and needy huh?

He let out a small laughs before slamming into me again, making me cry out.

He gives me time to adjust to him before slamming back into me faster and rougher.

The sounds of our soft moans and skin collapsing together filled the room. My moans became more and more loud when he circled my clit with his finger until my orgasm exploded.

-Im im about to-. I stutter.

-I know i know don't you worry, go ahead, beautiful.

I let out the most sinful sounds ever known to mankind while William kept fucking me harder and harder, admiring me.

-You are dangerous. He says, smiling at me.

His groans started to fill the room and he started going even faster than before until he came inside of me, holding my hair and kissing my neck until he rode it off.

We eventually laid down, cuddling together. We didn't need to talk, we just enjoyed the moment. We fell asleep in each others arms, happily.

I woke up the next morning, next to him. It was still pretty early so i could stay by his side before leaving. After a couple minutes. He finally woke up.

-Well hello, butcher.

I could tell he forgot i was with him for quite a couple seconds, but when he remembered last night, a smirk appeared on his face.

-Hi pretty girl.

I put my head on his chest.

-Can i ask you a question, william.

-Sure, wha's up.

-Why didn't you want me to patch your wound.

He hesitated for a second, but glanced at me with a smile.

-I hate showing people that i'm weak. Since all that compound V shit, i've gotten some pretty bad injuries and i can't show that im hurt in this world.

-I understand, but you are strong butcher, stronger than alot of people.

-Thank you love.

HERE IT IS FINISHED.

#theboys #theboysamazon #amazonprime #smut #williambutcher #karlurban #billybutcher #butcher #smutbillybutcher #smutkarlurban #compoundV #prime #homlander #praisekink #petnames #names #noyn #hughie #hughcampbell #frenchie #MM #Theboyskarlurban #Theboyskimiko

#the boys #the boys amazon #the boys prime #billy butcher #karl urban #william butcher #the butcher #smut #compound

[knucklescum]

Irredeemable - Hughie Campbell x fem!reader (The Boys)

Pairing: Hughie Campbell (The Boys) x fem!reader

Word Count: 3011

Warnings: Swearing (obviously), canon typical everything

You should have known that you were the last person Butcher would want to see right now, and yet you had made the decision to return to him, to the team. 

The Boys had been the closest thing you’d had to a family in a long time, even with their quirks and, well, their long running murderous rampage.

That was, until everything went to shit. Butcher had effectively exiled you from the team, sending you on your own solo mission several states away.

It wasn’t that you hated what you were doing, you just hated doing it on your own. Supe killing was a team effort, no easy feat for someone so completely alone. So when you caught wind of the team’s current predicament, you’d decided for yourself that it was time you made your return.

Maybe your sudden reappearance would serve as a well needed distraction from Becca’s death. Or maybe Butcher would do everything in his power to make you fuck off again.

The feeling of something heavy landing on your front pulled you from your sleep.

“Look what the fucking cat dragged in.”

You pushed your bag full of guns off your lap as your eyes fluttered open before sitting up on the sofa, suddenly aware of your surroundings.

You don’t even remember getting to the hideout, let alone crashing onto the couch in exhaustion.

“How long have you been back?” Butcher’s voice echoed in your ears again, a scowl on his face as you stared back up at him blankly. 

“I - uh,” you start, rubbing your forehead. “What time is it?”

Butcher turns his head in the direction of the rest of the team, keeping his eyes on you as he waits for someone to tell you the time.

“Four sixteen P.M,” an unknown voice reads out, your eyes moving to find the source.

“Who-,” you barely get the word out before Butcher interrupts you.

“Four sixteen P.M,” Butcher repeats, turning his head back to you. “Now fuck off.”

Butcher begins to storm away as you jump up from the sofa. You move quickly to catch up with him, ignoring all of the eyes on you as you grab hold of his coat sleeve in desperation.

“I need to talk to you, Butcher,” you say, your voice almost a whisper.

“I don’t want to talk to you, love,” he whispers back.

“Please, Butcher. I, fuck,” you breathe, dropping his sleeve. “I killed him.”

“You-” Butcher starts, cutting himself off in shock. “You killed him. Him?”

“Him,” you repeat.

Butcher does nothing but stare at you for several seconds before bringing a hand to your shoulder.

“Welcome back,” he grins.

All you can do is smile back at Butcher as he removes his hand from your shoulder before quickly turning away, getting back to whatever it was that he was doing in the first place.

You feel the weight leaving your chest and your whole body relaxing as you turn back, facing the rest of the team.

Your smile only grows as your eyes meet Frenchie’s, the man instantly striding over and taking you into his arms.

“Mon ami, I missed you!” he exclaims, excitedly jumping you up and down in his embrace.

As Frenchie returns your feet to the ground, you look up at M.M, continuing to grin as he nods at you.

“You guys have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” you sigh.

“It’s good to see you again, (y/n),” M.M nods. “Although, I’m sure you can see, things have kind of changed around here since you’ve been gone.”

He tilts his head to the side, your eyes following to see the two newest members of the team.

“This is Kimiko,” Frenchie beams, putting an arm over her shoulder. The dark haired girl gives you a sweet smile as she waves at you. You wave back before focusing on the lanky man beside her.

“Hi,” he says, his voice slightly worried. 

“Hey,” you say, holding out your hand for him to shake. “I’m (y/n).”

“Hughie. I’m the one who told you the time,” he laughs nervously, his hand slightly clammy in yours. “I don’t know why I just said that, I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head as his face cringes.

“I appreciate it, Hughie.”

It doesn’t take long for you to settle right back into the team with the six of you each perched in the living room area of the hideout, both recounting stories and bringing each other up to speed with any new information.

You aren’t so happy to hear that your room has become Hughie’s, but you take the opportunity to tell him about all of your previous endeavours in that very room, on his bed.

“She’s teasing you, Hughie,” M.M laughs “She never had that many guys over.”

“Oh she did!” Frenchie says. “I could hear her every fucking night,” he nods his head, nudging his elbow into your side.

You give Frenchie a swift slap on the arm before mouthing a ‘sorry’ to Hughie, a disgusted look on his face.

“Right,” Butcher says, slapping his hands to his knees before getting up from the sofa. “I’m off to bed. Big fucking day tomorrow.”

He gives Hughie a heavy pat on the back before leaving the room, his door slamming shut behind him.

One by one, the rest of the team bid each other goodnight until you’re left alone with Hughie. He’s stood awkwardly in front of the T.V., his arms pressed to his sides as you rub your eyes with the back of your hands.

“I, um,” he starts. “I’m sorry for taking your room. I just-,”

“You didn’t know, Hughie,” you say, a tired smile on your face. “It’s your room.”

He nods, his face relaxing before he immediately tenses up again.

“But where are you going to sleep?”

“Here seems fine!” you say, swinging your legs up onto the sofa and resting your head on the arm of the couch.

He looks at you in disbelief as you shoot him an assuring smile.

“Are you sure? I just feel really bad,” he says, holding a hand to his cheek.

“I’m sure,” you sigh. “Now get to bed.”

A gentle laugh escapes him as you shoo him off with your hands, finally giving in.

“Fine, fine. But at least let me bring you a blanket?”

“Oh wow, uh,” you can’t hide your shock at his kindness.

He’s definitely in the wrong business.

“I’ll be right back,” he smiles.

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

You wake up curled up on the sofa, tucked under a fleece blanket. The smell of cheap, herbal body spray and a tinge of sweat fills your nostrils.

There's a faint sound of life from across the room, shuffling and clattering around. You sit up, feeling oddly refreshed despite your awkward sleeping arrangement.

“What time do you call this, love?” Butcher’s voice calls out. “Never knew you to sleep in.”

“Fuck off,” you grunt, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you peel yourself up from the sofa.

“Ever the charmer,” he says, throwing a tea towel in your direction. “Make yourself useful and help Frenchie with breakfast.”

“Yes, boss,” you laugh, making your way towards the two men.

After a short while, breakfast is ready (Frenchie is very proud of his “French(ie) toast) and the rest of the gang join you in the large, communal room.

You shoot Hughie a smile as he walks towards the sofa, earning a polite nod in response. Quickly, you turn back to the “kitchen” countertop, eager to serve up this morning’s meal.

“So,” you start, gently piling a couple of slices of toast onto each plate. “What’s the plan for today?”

Butcher only laughs, lowly, in response as he shakes his head. 

Both M.M and Hughie shoot Butcher a look of confusion, to which he just shrugs.

“You can do -” he cuts himself off, taking a bit of his toast. “Whatever you want,” he mumbles.

You furrow your brows, averting your gaze to the rest of the team in a desperate attempt to get some sort of answer.

Catching Hughie’s eyes, he shuffles in his seat before turning to face Butcher.

“I’ve - uhh - I’ve got some errands to run. (y/n) could -” he turns back to you. “You could join me today? I could use the company,” he shrugs.

“Sure,” you smile, catching Frenchie smirking to himself in your peripheral vision. “Errands sound good.”

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

Over the course of the morning, everyone splits into their decided pairs for the day: Butcher and M.M head out first to make a start on something or other a few miles away, Frenchie and Kimiko to gather intel on a particular set of Vought owned buildings and you and Hughie to… go shopping?

The two of you wander into town in comfortable conversation, stopping in a few different shops along the way.

“I’m sorry, I have to ask,” you start. “How the actual fuck did someone as, well, as good as you end up working with Butcher?”

“Oh man,” Hughie lets out a breathy chuckle, his grip on the carrier bag growing tighter. “My girlfriend, uhh - fuck. A-Train killed my girlfriend.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Hughie. I shouldn’t have asked,” you say, stopping in the street in embarrassment. 

Hughie lets out a soft breath, shaking his head. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” 

He tilts his head for you to continue walking, “Come on.”

The two of you walk in silence before you speak up again.

“What was she like?”

“Hmm?” Hughie stops.

“Your girlfriend. What was she like?” you repeat.

Unexpectedly, Hughie proceeds to tell you about his late girlfriend, who you now know as Robin, in great detail; the two of you go through what could only be described as an emotional rollercoaster as he tells you all about her personality, her passions - everything.

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts himself. “I didn’t mean to, you know, fuck,” he shakes his head. “No one’s ever asked me that before.”

“Come on,” you smile, holding your arm out for him to follow you. “Let’s go sit down somewhere.”

Wordlessly, Hughie follows behind you until you arrive at the park. The two of you sit beside each other on one of the many benches overlooking the city.

He turns his head towards you, looking at you as if he’s asking for permission to speak. You gently nod in response.

“I, um. I guess I just feel kinda guilty about everything. Just, yeah, everything. After Robin, I met the guys, you know, and they’ve helped me. They’re a good distraction to all of the bullshit, which is kind of ironic seeing as, you know, thanks to them I’m deep in the bullshit. And then of course there’s Annie,” he pauses with a shaky breath. “There was Annie. She made me feel so much better about everything, which in turn only made me feel worse. Annie is a supe, you know? And a supe killed my girlfriend. So, there were times where it kind of felt like I was betraying Robin by being with the thing that killed her.”

“Hughie,” you say, your voice gentle. “You have nothing to feel bad about. Whatever happened, whatever you’ve done is nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

Hughie nods, softly at first before gradually becoming more confident. 

“Me and Annie, we, uh, we’re not a thing anymore.”

“Oh?” you pry.

“It’s complicated,” he shrugs. “But now Butcher is pissed. He was sort of hoping that my relationship with Annie would get us closer to Vought, you know, use her a little bit. But now that things have fallen apart, I think Butcher feels like I’ve wasted my one chance to be a useful member of the team.”

“Listen, Hughie,” you shake your head. “Butcher has kicked off about far less in the past. If he wanted you off the team, you’d be gone by now. Trust me.”

Hughie shifts on the bench, turning his body to face you, careful to keep his knee from brushing against your leg.

“I’m sorry, (y/n)” he says, shaking his head slightly as he furrows his brow. “I should have asked this before but, uh, what happened with you and Butcher, exactly?”

You can’t help the dry laugh that escapes your lips, throwing your head back.

“Where do I even start?” you laugh.

Hughie lets out a small chuckle with you, though he can’t disguise the fact that he is desperate to know what went down. Catching his eye, you give in.

“I was seeing this guy, Adam, when I first met Butcher. God, this was years ago now,” you laugh. “We were kind of on and off, he was all over the place, mentally, I mean. I loved him though. Like, love of my life, kind of love. I was ready to put up with all of his shit, all of his disappearing, everything,” you say, forcing out a chuckle to stop yourself from crying.

Hughie nods, lifting his arm awkwardly in an attempt to comfort you before placing his hand back on his lap.

“To save some time I’ll just cut to the actually interesting part. Adam was a supe.”

Hughie stares at you in disbelief. You shrug your shoulders in response.

“I find it so hard to believe that you of all people dated a supe. Did you know he was a supe when yo-”

“No,” you cut him off. “I had no idea he was a supe. Neither did Butcher. Adam wasn’t one of the A-listers, but he did have a pretty impressive power. He was some kind of telepath,” you shrug. “He could put thoughts into your brain, and remove your thoughts as he pleased. Hence why we never suspected him.

“Anyway, Butcher did eventually find out the truth about Adam, and he tried so hard to get through to me but whatever Adam put in my brain made that impossible. It got to a point where I didn’t trust Butcher at all, I never knew why, and I think Butcher got fed up.”

Hughie remained still in his seat as you spoke, watching your face morph from expression to expression as you told your story.

“So Butcher just… kicked you out?” Hughie said. “ I can’t believe he would just give up on you like that, especially after everything he’s done for me.”

You offer Hughie a soft smile in response, shaking your head gently.

“Butcher didn’t outright kick me out, although I’d understand if he had done. Adam actually proposed to me.”

The shocked expression returned to Hughie’s face, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Adam wanted to move to Vegas so, obviously, I dropped everything to follow him there. I told Butcher that I was leaving the team to be with Adam. I didn’t mean it, of course, I was just so in love, so under Adam’s spell that I would do and say anything to make him happy. Butcher didn’t like that, obviously, so he effectively banished me. ‘ Said if he ever saw me again, he’d kill me.”

Hughie turns in his seat, hunched over with his head in his hands as he takes in every word of what you had just said.

“Butcher just let you leave?” He asks, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “He seriously made no attempt to stop you?”

“I guess he-”

“It wouldn’t have mattered if he had tried to stop you,” he interrupts you. “You were under Adam’s mind control.”

“Exactly,” you nod. “After a good couple of months in Vegas, something snapped in me. Adam couldn’t control me anymore. And - please don’t tell Butcher this,”

“I won’t,” Hughie interjects, edging closer towards you.

“When I first, I don’t know, woke up? Is that the right word?”

“Woke up works,” Hughie shrugs.

“Okay,” you laugh. “When I finally woke up, I was so, so mad at Butcher. I blamed him for a while for not protecting me, for giving up on me. But I know in reality,” you sigh, “there was nothing that he could have done.”

“I imagine it took you a long time to come to terms with that,” Hughie says, his voice quieter than before as he ducks his head even further towards you.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I only really came to terms with it when I snapped. I actually stayed with Adam for a couple of days after I woke up, trying to think of the best escape plan. I spent two days pretending that I was still under his control before I couldn’t handle it anymore. I killed him.”

The two of you sit in silence for a while after that, both staring into the distance, past the view of the city and towards the pale late morning sky.

“Why didn’t you come back sooner?” Hughie asks, his voice cutting through the quiet. 

“I, god, Hughie, I’ve never thought about that,” you laugh, dryly. “I guess -”

“You don’t need to have an answer, (y/n),” he smiles. 

You can’t help but smile back at him as you think more on his question.

“I actually stayed in Vegas to kill supes. The whole city is a goldmine for washed up supes so it was good practice for whenever I chose to return.”

“Do you think maybe, no. I shouldn’t say it,” Hughie interrupts himself.

“No, no, Hughie. Please say it,” you say, practically begging Hughie for an answer to his question that is sure to plague you otherwise.

“Maybe,” he sighs, pulling himself up from the bench, standing before you. “Maybe you were trying to prove to yourself that you were still a supe hunter? That Butcher would still want you on the team after everything?”

You had no words. Hughie was right, of course he was. But what could you possibly say in response to that information?

You remain seated in silence for a little while longer before finally deciding to stand beside Hughie.

“Come on,” he says, his voice soft. “We should be heading back.”

A/N let me know if you want a part two to this!

#hughie campbell #hughie campbell the boys #hughie campbell x reader #the boys hughie x reader #hughie x reader #jack quaid #hughie campbell x reader the boys #hughie campbell reader #hughie campbell fanfiction #the boys fanfiction #the boys fanfic #hughie campbell fanfic #fanfic #send requests #i love hughie with all of my heart i'm not ashamed #angst #the boys #the boys hughie #hughie the boys #amazon the boys #boys #amazon boys

[actuallysaiyan]

I Still Want You Around(Part I)

The Meet-Cute!(Part I)

warnings: mentions of drinking, smoking, meet-cute pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!OC taglist: @beneathstarryskies @seireiteihellbutterfly summary: Karin is fed up with living at Maison Azimu, and she wants to leave when her flatmates go a little too far. Everything changes when she meets the new manager, Kento Nanami. He's a like a dream come true to her. Mr. Ide offers the idea to throw a party to celebrate his homecoming, to which Karin begrudgingly accepts.

Masterlist

“My goodness Karin, you’re going to die if you keep studying like this.” Kimiko moans, taking a sip of her drink. She lounges in her babydoll in Karin’s room, a cold beer in her hand.

Karin grunts, “Can’t you just leave me alone? Is it that bad that I want to get into a good college?”

Kimko laughs loudly; it’s a loud belly laugh. The sound attracts others to the small room, causing them all to interrupt Karin’s studying session. Mr. Ide makes his way into the room through the secret hole in the wall that connects his room to Karin’s. He often peeks at her while she’s in her more intimate moments, even watching her sleep at times. She yelled at him over and over, but nothing could stop the man from breaking into her room and stealing her food.

“Ugh! Please, all of you leave!” Karin throws a book at Mr. Ide’s head, but he ducks.

Kimiko laughs, “ Come onnnnnn, Karin! Live a little!”

There’s some commotion as someone swings the door to Karin’s room open wide, and in bounces the rather stout Mrs. Orito. She smirks when she notices her flatmates are present here. She sits down next to Karin, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her in even closer. Mrs. Orito smells of cigarettes and cheap perfume.

“When ya gonna get married and leave this sad sorry place, huh, Karin?” She drawls, looking deep in the young woman’s eyes.

Karin groans in annoyance, “I could do that if I were to get a good career! Now, please! Everyone leave me alone! I need to study!”

Kimiko laughs again, taking another drink of beer. Mr. Ide brings forth another pack of beer, sliding it over to both Mrs. Orito and Kimiko. They all crack one open, and Kimiko waves the can of beer in Karin’s face. She’s about to snap, and she’s going to end up saying something awful. It’s not that Karin absolutely hates her flatmates, but it’s a lot to deal with on the daily. If they were a bit more considerate and a bit more kind, she would probably even be able to tolerate them.

“Bottoms up, young Karin!” Mr. Ide says as he grips her hair and pulls her head back. Before she can do anything, he’s pouring beer into her mouth.

Karin sputters, “Hey! What’d you do that for?”

Mrs. Orito cheers, “we’re gonna celebrate!”

Kimiko joins in on the cheering, getting up to turn on the small radio in Karin’s room. She begins dancing to the pop music that begins blaring, causing Mr. Ide to get such an eyeful of her body. Mrs. Orito smirks and takes a big gulp of her beer. Karin is growing more and more frustrated as the seconds go by. She’s shaking with anger as this debauchery and shenanigans continues.

“I’ve had enough! I’m gonna move out!”

Everyone stops and looks seriously at Karin. She’s up on her feet, pacing in the small room. Then she opens her room door, looking out into the hallway. She’s going to contact the manager and tell him that she’s had enough. She can’t take this anymore. Kimiko is quick to come over to Karin and try to smooth over the situation.

“Awhh,” Kimiko hiccups. “You can’t leave! No no no! Plus, when’s the last time you saw the manager, anyway?”

Kimiko had a point. The older gentleman who used to take care of this place has suddenly been less around. Actually, none of them had seen the man since the prior month. Perhaps he had finally called it quits due to his age and his health. Though he had seemed quite spry for someone his age, something like this can really take a toll on someone’s health. Especially with the crazy tenants that live here.

“Are you really leaving?” Sei calls from the Orito room. He’s looking up at Karin, a little bit of a frown on his face.

Karin leans down and ruffles his hair, “Look, kid…I can’t stay here forever. I just…I need a place of my own.”

Kimiko and Mrs. Orito comes over and the older woman wraps her arm around Karin’s shoulder once more. The smell of stale cigarettes just seems to permeate the air whenever she’s around. Karin sighs, not wanting to hear whatever bullshit advice or suggestion either of her flatmates have for her.

Suddenly, the main door opens and in walks the new manager. Kento Nanami has just inherited the boarding house. Everyone stops arguing and talking, taking in the sight of the breathtaking man. He smiles at the tenants; a smile that’s reminiscent of the warmth of the sunshine.

“Oh! Hello, is this the Azimu house?” Kento asks, his voice like warm butter.

Mrs. Orito smirks. “Yeah it is, and?”

Kento laughs softly, “I’m the new manager. As of today.”

Kimiko and Mrs. Orito share glances. They push Karin forward and the young woman almost falls against his chest. She blushes as she looks at the new manager; her face so hot and her eyes wide. It’s almost like love at first sight for her.

“Aintcha gonna put in your notice?” Kimiko taunts.

Karin shakes her head, “No way! Are you kidding me?”

Kento seems confused, but he brushes it off. Maybe something happened before he even arrived. He looks around the main entryway to look at the tenants. He knows he’ll have fun getting to know them all. He’s been longing for something to do like this. It feels like it wasn’t that long ago that he was spending his days and nights with Hina, but now…

“I’ll be moving into the manager’s room tomorrow. I’ll see you all then.”

Before he leaves, Mr. Ide pipes up. He seems interested in what happened to the old manager. Kento frowns for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing. It seems like he does owe them all a bit of an explanation. He can’t just pop up and say he's the manager without telling them what’s going on.

“He quit,” Kento says. “Something about being too old to manage a place like this. Whatever that means…”

And with that, he leaves them all with a bow. Karin feels her heart racing, and she’s not sure she could calm it down even if she tried. He’s the most handsome man she’s ever laid eyes on. She begins to daydream of running her fingers through his blond hair, kissing his cushioned lips and gazing into those beautiful hazel eyes.

“Hah! Now that’s a man to sink your teeth in, yeah?” Mrs. Orito asks, nudging Kimiko with her elbow.

“Oh hell yes! And a manager too? Wow! Did you see the muscles on him?”

As the two women gossip about their new manager, Karin pretends not to be interested. Instead, she walks into her room and slams her door shut. Things are about to change around here. And if she wants to make a good impression on the manager, she’s going to have to buckle down and study hard. She doesn’t want to be a ronin her entire life. It’s not worth it to be such a bum and a lazy slob. She sits down at her desk after turning off the radio and opens up the book she was studying from.

“Ahhh young love,” Mr. Ide says from his spot between the two rooms.

Karin laughs sarcastically, “You really have no idea how annoying you are, do you? And what about young love? Who’s in love?”

“It’s very obvious to anyone with eyes that you and the manager are a match made in heaven. It’s just too bad he’d never want to be with you considering you’re just a ronin.”

Karin grumbles, turning her attention back to her book. She has a test in a few days, and she knows this one is important. It’s going to count for a lot of her grade. She needs to get herself into a college, whether or not it’s a good one. She can’t fail the entry-level exam again. Karin would be the laughingstock of the town and worse…the house.

“Why don’t we throw a party tomorrow?” Mr. Ide asks, crawling over to the young ronin. 

“No parties! Why would we have a party?”

Mr. Ide smirks, “To celebrate the new manager, of course.”

“Fine, but I can’t stay long. I have an important test in a few days.”

Mr. Ide reassures her that she’ll be able to leave as soon as she wants, but he knows fully that they’ll more than likely be having this party in this very room. It’s just too much fun to rile up young Karin. She gets ever so frustrated with just the slightest bit of teasing. The way her cheeks burn and she grumbles, it’s almost adorable.

“One drink, then I’m done. Got it? Now scram!”

Mr. Ide raises his hands in defense. “Hey now, no need to get angry. One drink, that's it.”

Karin sighs, “I don’t really believe you, but please…just leave.”

And with that. Karin is left with her studies.

#bacon.writes #nanami x reader #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x oc #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #Kento Nanami x oc #Nanami Kento x oc #kento x you #kento x reader #jjk nanami x you #jjk nanami x reader

[kookiekittyp4nties]

An Eventful night in

words: 3.4k

Fic summery: Billy Butcher x fem reader x Hughie. Hughie and the reader have been dating for a while and recently started sleeping together with Butcher. After the rest of the boys crew decide to go out you decide to stay back with Butcher and Hughie to get changed but that quickly turns into something much more eventful then the night you had planned.

Tags: Smut, nsfw, double penetration, Eiffel tower, vaginal fingering, rimming, anal play, anal sex, creampie, praise kink, slight degradation, blowjobs, rough oral sex, finger sucking, threesome-FMM, handjobs, rough sex, light breeding kink. overstimulation, doggystyle, manhandling, unprotected sex

Notes: i wrote this all the way back in august hehe its an oldie but still a goodie

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

It was a cool evening in the streets of NYC and the boys were all huddled together in their base, desperately trying to figure out their next move. Amongst the frustrated silence, Frenchie spoke up. “It's late, and we've been on edge all month. Why don't we take the night off?” Had anyone walked into the room they could easily tell that the consensus was that everyone agreed. 

“It is important to take time off...” M.M agreed. “Great! How do drinks and dancing sound?!” Frenchie exclaimed. Kimiko nodded excitedly in agreement. “What about you y/n?'' Kimiko signed. “Clubbing might be fun actually. It’s been a while since I've had an excuse to dress up a bit” she grins. “Butcher? Hughie? Do you guys wanna come?” 

“Sorry love but I'm a bit tied up here at the moment.” Butcher gestures to the assortment of plans, guns and other illegal items on the table in front of him. “You feeling okay?” M.M laughs. “Because usually Butcher, you besides from Frenchie would be the first person to ditch work to go party.”  

“Yeah well, today I'm not M.M. My heads bloody killing me mate and I still have all this shit to sort out.” sensing the tension brewing Hughie chirps up i-Ill go” He enthusiastically replies, standing up so quickly he knocks the table and butcher beside him. Who shoots him a displeased look.

 “It'll take me a while to get ready so why don’t you go ahead guys and Hughie and I can hopefully in that time convince Butcher to pull the stick out his ass and come with us.”  you happily chirp. “You don't have to tell me twice mon Coeur,” Frenchie calls holding Kimiko's hand and throwing his jacket over his shoulder as he leaves, M.M trailing behind him. 

Awkward silence quickly filled the air as the other half of the group cleared out. “Well, I'm going to go change and do my makeup. Take your time finishing up with whatever this is.”You exclaim, grabbing your bag and sauntering to the bathroom winking as you close the door.

“A-Actually I need to shower too.” Hughie beams, and practically jumps to follow you.“Lad, she’s changing give her a second.” Butcher grumbles patting Hughie on the shoulder and lighting a cigarette.

It's a while before the sound of the shower stops and You walk out of the bathroom. Hughie’s eyes almost damn near fall out of his head when he sees what you’re wearing. And Butcher, for once, is at a loss for words. “Are you boys ready to leave yet?” you call bending over to re-apply her lipstick. Your short dress threatens to show your panties. 

Both men almost audibly groan as she stands on her tip ties to get a better look at her face in the mirror revealing her pink lacy panties. “While you were in the shower Hughie and I were talking and we realized that it's been a while since we have all spent time together... With this and the bullshit with Homelander and Stormfront, we haven't had any time to ourselves.”

“Hughie, baby do you really feel like that?” you stop putting on your makeup and regretfully glance at the two men on the sofa. “I mean we live together, so I guess it is easy to overlook how much we are having sex, versus how many times we attempted and fell asleep... And Butcher we see even less out of work. I’m sorry we haven't been having much fun together recently.”  

“Which is okay,” Hughie interjects quickly. “I mean, well, I am sorta, really pent up and seeing you in that dress isn't helping... But that's not to say this is our fault. If anything it's fucking Homelanders fault for making us so busy we bearly have any time to fuck, let alone do anything but worry.” Y/n’s breath hitches as she notices Hughie’s tent in his jeans. 

“He does have a point about the dress. You look fucking sexy in it. The thing is so short that if we wanted to fool around all we have to do is roll it up slightly. Which, I’m not opposed to in the slightest... I've always had a soft spot for short dresses.” he groans, grabbing Your waist. being so caught up in the moment, you hadn’t even noticed that both he and Hughie were towering over her looking down ravenously.

Shivering you experimentally grind yourself against Butcher's groin... And beckon Hughie to kiss you. “Wait, are we seriously going to do this here?” He mumbles as he pulls away. “I’m really fucking horny too but everyone is in here during the day. What will they say if they come back  tomorrow and it smells like sex?”  

“You act like it doesn't smell dubious here on the regular lad. It probably won't be noticed too much. And either way, if Frenchie of all people does say anything it's not like we haven't walked in on or seen the aftermath of this room when he’s had Kimiko peg him in here.” Hughie sheepishly nods and leans in for another kiss. “It's just a little team-building exercise…what do you say Y/n? Want me and Hughie to fuck you silly?” 

Legs trembling at his usage of words, you eagerly nod.  “Oh, Come on, you know you can do better than that.” Butcher groans, nibbling your ear and grabbing a handful of your breast. “Say it.” Hughie chimes in. “Say you want Me and Butcher to fuck you silly right here like a little slut.” By the way, butcher’s grope eases on your breast you can tell he is also surprised to hear how assertive the shorter man is being. “I- I want you and Butcher to fuck me silly.” 

“That's a good girl.” Butcher sighs, pulling your panties to the side to rub your clit.  Your eyes grow heavily lidded as you feel Butcher's thick fingers slipping between your labia. He swipes his fingers up your slit collecting all the sticky wetness before circling back to your bundle of nerves.

”Now, poor Hughie has been straining in his pants the past half hour, would you be a dear and help relive him a little before he jizzes his pants like fucking a schoolboy.” working quickly You unbutton and unzip his jeans and slips your hands into his boxers to free him from his fabric prison. You quickly take notice of how painfully hard he is. His cock throbbing and already dribbling pre down his shaft.

“Fuck,” he hisses when his cock hits the cool air of the room, Throwing his head back.“That feels good.” Butcher hums in agreement as he gently slips a finger into Y/n’s soaked pussy.”Remember, jerk him off slowly, just the way he likes it, love. That's right, thumb the tip and then drag your hand down his shaft using his precum as lube.” Hughie trembles at the stimulation and buries his face in your neck. Licking and sucking a hickey into it. He is already so sensitive, so pretty. His face is burning as he nuzzles it into you.

“Butcher….please” you moan. “Please what love? Use your words, I'm not a fucking mind reader.” he chuckles. “Please fuck me with your fingers.” you breathe out, legs starting to buckle. Your cheeks are burning in anticipation. At this point, you are practically dripping. “Sure thing y/n.” almost instantly you feel another finger slip into you and curl causing you to moan loudly and arch your back. "Fuck, your little cunny is so tight it's practically sucking me in. I can barely move." He chuckles.

“How close are you Hughie?” you exhale deeply, Quickening your stroke on his shaft. You can feel him throbbing in your hand. “Pretty, close.” he moans with half-lidded eyes, so eager for stimulation that he bucks his hips into your hand. Usually, he isn't this eager, but you can tell was as pent up as he said. He just can't help himself, you are so good, and your fingers are so skilled he almost feels selfish for having someone jerk him off this well. This is definitely better than touching himself.

 You feel a deep warm knot start to tighten in the pit of your stomach and involuntarily bounce yourself on Butcher's fingers. “Feels good, don’t it? Having your slutty little cunt played with so roughly. Right where anyone could walk in?” he doesn't need to hear an audible response as you clench tightly around his fingers. Wantonly moaning out both his and Hughie’s names. “I'm gonna .. cum” you whine as Hughie pulls you into another sloppy kiss. 

“Me too” he moans into your mouth. Grabbing your chin and turning you to face him, Butcher kisses you roughly, both his Hughies and your spit dripping down your chin. His pace quickens as he continues his assault on your sensitive clit and he drags you to orgasm quickly. Both you and Hughie throw your heads back in ecstasy and moan in unison. “Oh fuuuuck.” Hughie almost sobs. His cum painting your hand and the front of your panties. You would have worried about it getting on your dress had Butcher not rolled the thing up almost to your tits. 

Panting you and Hughie collapse onto each other.  And both eagerly stretch your hand out to Butcher and pull him to sit beside you two on the ground. After sucking and licking the cum off his fingers Butcher makes quick work of his leather jacket and his belt. “How do you reckon we do this Hughie?” he asks, palming his erection through his boxers. Still, in a haze from his orgasm, Hughie only groans. “Lad c’mon snap out of it. There's still more fun to be had. Surely you've wanked at least once this week. There isn't any reason for you to be that spent after a little handy.” 

“You guys could Eiffel tower me?” you finally speak up, and pull yourself into Butcher’s lap, grinding against his erection. You almost feel yourself get wetter at that comment. Butcher grins at you in agreement and you both look over to Hughie for his confirmation.  “Yeah, that could be fun, 've only ever seen them do it in porn though, is it an actual sex position?” Of course, he is questioning the validity of the position. You love Hughie, but he is inexperienced when it comes to these matters. He is almost like a lamb, while Butcher is like a ravenous wolf. "Try sounding any less pleased and porn addicted." Butcher chuckles. Ignoring his comment, you continue  to explain “Course it is.” 

 “Why would it be made up? All I have to do is get on my hands and knees and have one of you take me from behind and the other takes my mouth. It's pretty simple actually.”

“And bloody fun” Butcher adds. You can tell Hughie still looks a bit shy at the idea of something so lewd that you propose an idea. “If you want I can take you up the ass?” you giggle. Which seems to make him somehow even redder, almost as if he hadn't just painted your hand with his jizz. “Lad I can tell you this for free, almost every man I’ve met likes anal one way or another. I know you’ve wanted to do this for a while. Don't act like I haven't seen your search history. You're a filthy fucking pervert like the rest of us.” Both of you laugh and he blushes. “Here let me make it a little easier” you giggle, peeling off your panties and dress and sitting on his lap facing away from him.  You grind your ample exposed ass against his cock and you almost feel him grow hard under you. 

“Now butcher come here” you beckon him with your hand and he shuffles over to stand in front of you. Tentatively you lick your lips before pulling the front of his briefs down to expose his hard and twitching cock.

He was a bit bigger than Hughie; more girthy at least. You'd almost forgotten how big he was. You know for certain your jaw is going to hurt tomorrow.

 “Take a picture, it'll last longer Luv,” he smirks above you. Still grinding against Hughie you reach out to grab the base and jerk him a few times. Leaning forward you give him a few speculative licks. Usually, Hughie preferred to take your mouth, it's been so long since you've blown anyone you are a little intimidated by his size. All your inhibitions fade away the moment you put your mouth around his thick head. It's salty but not unbearable, you can taste the day's sweat on him.

Lust Clouds your mind as you practically bury his cock in your mouth, gagging slightly as you reach the base. Butcher groans loudly through gritted teeth and this only solidifies how badly you want to please him. It takes every atom in his body for Butcher not to skull fuck you right then. You look just perfect, lipstick smudged spit dripping down your chin and your puffy stolen lips wrapped around his cock. If he had his phone he'd take a photo. It'd be a shame to not save this moment. 

Behind you, Hughie is growing more and more impatient.  Trying to get your attention by licking a stripe up your back and tentatively grinding his thumb against your ass. “Hey don't forget about me Y/n. I’m still here too,” he whines, grinding himself against your taint.

He certainly wasn't this needy last time he, you and Butcher fucked, then again, he had two people stimulating him at once. Where was all his assertiveness from earlier?  “I didn't forget” you mumble around Butcher. “You are going to have to speak up if you want the lad to hear you Luv. You've got a bit of cock in your mouth.” A Bit was definitely an understatement. 

Smirking he pulls you off his cock with a pop. “Butcher get on your knees and Hughie hold on to my waist okay?” Both men do as they are told, either neither of them had any energy to protest or they were both too horny to care. “Hughie, I'm going to ease myself onto you okay? Don't start to thrust until I say so.” you look back over your shoulder and see his tongue dart out to wet his lips as he nods. 

Taking as you get back onto your hands and knees you are startled by a warm wet sensation prodding at your ass. “Are you okay Y/n?Did I do something wrong?” he quickly pulls away from your ass and you almost instinctively push his face back against you. “I'll take that as a no then.” Hughie smiles and presses his mouth flush against your ass again. Practically making out with your asshole.

 You arch your back and grind yourself against his mouth. Letting our a loud almost pornographic moan. “That's a bloody delicious sight. You've got a lot more balls than I thought son.” Butcher supplies leaning back and pulling your chin towards his now aching cock.  Lolling your tongue out he places his shaft back into your mouth jerking himself off into your mouth. You close your swollen lips around his head and start bobbing again. 

When you feel that you are sufficiently wet you pull away from Hughie’s mouth and playfully move your hips side to side to prompt him. Slipping Butcher out of your mouth you give the younger man a verbal cue. “You can put it in now Hughie, don't worry, she doesn't bite.” he and Butcher chuckle gently at your crude joke as he lines up the blunt head of his cock and starts to push in. 

 “Mmmm’ you moan out as he pushes in deeper. His hand snakes around your waist to pull you closer to him. “Just a bit more.” he groans. “Fuck, you are so tightt.” you feel his bottom out inside you and almost leap at the opportunity to grind your hips back against him. The slight burn of his intrusion feels fucking good. Hughie seems to think the same thing as he starts to thrust into you. 

Leaning forward you shove Butcher back into your mouth hungry for his cock. Quickly taking in the entirety of him without gagging at his size.  All three of you moan in unison as your bodies wetly connect. You grind your hips into Hughie's slowly, careful not to let an inch out of you. “You can be a little rougher than that with her son, you aren't gonna break her. She can take it. Cant you?” he looks down at you. “Yeah, she's a tough little thing. I bet you if we actually wanted to break her we couldn't.” 

With every thrust of his hips, Hughie can feel himself getting more and more wrecked. You’re just so perfectly tight. The way your ass is clapping against his hips looks just like the porn he had watched earlier that week. Unlike the girl in the video, he could tell that you were enjoying yourself. Leaning forward a bit he locks his hand with yours and starts to whisper gently into your ear as he teases and pinches your nipple.

“Y/n  fuck, I'm so close already. You are so good to us. So good to me. Taking me so deeply. Do you think I could feel my cock in your ass if I stuck a few fingers in that greedy pussy of yours?” He punctuates the last few words with some particularly hard thrusts, feeling you clench around him. Removing his hand from your nipple he slips 3 of his fingers into your needy pussy which sends you over the edge. Suddenly clamping around him with a vice-like grip you cum, hard. Your slick wetness gushing down his fingers. Pulling off of the butcher's cock you cry out an unintelligible string of words.

The sudden tightness around him sends Hughie over the edge too. His warm cum spills into you. His hips spasming as he stuffs your ass with his cum. Harder and harder until he collapses onto you. Kissing your neck and back. Looking up through your eyelashes you can tell Butcher is close too.

Lust clouding his eyes he pulls your head forward and you quickly engulf him in your mouth and let him fuck your throat to completion. His grunts and groans make you wetter and wetter every second. “Open your mouth Y/n.” Butcher gruffly pulls himself out of your mouth to roughly jerk himself off on our tongue. Throwing his head back he cums in your mouth. Not wanting to waste anything you wrap your lips around him and let him finish in your throat. Rope after rope of his seed slipping down your abused throat.

“Fuck me” he moans. “I needed that.” all three of you collapse into a mess of bodies and try to come down from your intense orgasm. “That was fucking good.” you all say in unison. “Fucking good.” you conceded. “Although I wish my pussy got a little more attention.” you playfully frown. “I do find it a bit unfair that both you and Hughie got to cum more than once while I've just had my first O.” Butcher pouts 

“Well, what do you suggest?” Hughie questions innocently. 

#the boys tv #billy butcher #hughie campbell #hughie x reader #butcher x reader

[abodyfromthebalcony]

In The Future..

Pairing: Hughie Campbell x Reader  Wordcount: 1.1K words Summary: Taking a road trip with the team and you’re left alone with Hughie its very nice <3   A/N: School is exhausting but finally got this done! have another Hughie thing in the works but it is VERY catered to me but hope people will enjoy it anyway

You’ve been on the road with the team for the past 4 hours on the way to some mission location. Members of the team have been regularly switching from driving to sitting in the back of the van. First it was Frenchie driving and Kimiko beside him, currently it's Hughie driving with you riding shotgun. Your last stop was 2 hours ago.

There's music on the radio playing quietly. It's a Simon and Garfunkel song you kind of know the lyrics to, so you half sing along at a quiet volume. Hughie is tapping his finger on the steering wheel to the beat, singing almost all of the words under his breath . The highway is quiet, you only see a car pass by every couple of minutes. 

You and Hughie haven’t talked much in the past couple of hours, Which is fair because both of you are exhausted but also if it was this much silence with anyone else on the team it would be awkward but with Hughie it's okay. It’s a nice comfortable silence that feels alright even if it should be awkward. 

You look behind, to the back of the truck. You see Kimiko and Frenchie cuddled up together, M.M. asleep in the corner and Butcher asleep, snoring with his arms crossed.

“God it’s weird to see butcher asleep, he's like a big weird bear.” You say to Hughie.

In general it’s weird to be with the team and for there to be silence. Most days it’s a lot of shouting and fighting so the quiet is both off putting and refreshing.

“Yeah i'm afraid if i try to wake him up he’ll bite my arm off” both of you chuckle, hoping that Butcher doesn’t suddenly wake up, hear you making fun of him then kill both of you.

 “How far away are we from the next stop? My legs are completely stiff” you say, stretching your arms out.

“I think like 300 miles?” Hughie says, looking at the gps. You let out a deep groan and Hughie laughs. 

You both go quiet again for another 10 or 20 minutes. You look out the window at the sunset, it paints the sky in a beautiful orange and pink. You pass by a billboard of Homelander that says “Drive safe!”. You roll your eyes.

“Do you think homelander can drive?” you say breaking the silence

“What?”

“Like do you think he can actually drive or has he never had to learn?”

“Uh well he can fly so i don't think he would need a car. He probably gets driven around everywhere too right?”

“Yeah that's true…………….. I’m really bored.”

“Yeah I can tell!” Hughie chuckles.

You look back out at the sunset. “The sky is so pretty out here, it almost makes me wish I didn't live in the city..” 

“You’re also-.” hughie cuts himself off mid sentence “Do you think you’ll move out of town when this is all done?” 

“It feels like there's never going to be an end to all of this… but yeah maybe I would if i had someone with me I might. What about you? Do you think you’ll ever leave the city?”

“Same as you, if i had someone with me i would.” 

“It's settled then, we’ll move out of the city together and become farmers.” 

Hughie chuckles in response.

You let out a yawn. 

“Are you gonna go to sleep?” Hughie asks.

“No, no I'm fine.”

“You are definitely going to fall asleep.” 

“Fuck you, im really fine!”

You really are tired though and more than anything you're completely relaxed. The combination of the feeling of the warmth of the light from the sunset and hughie humming to the tune on the radio sends you into a complete state of relaxation. You feel your eyes become heavy and the music on the radio starts to fade out in your mind…

Hughie notices you falling asleep and turns down the volume dial. He turns over to look at you asleep when he can. He thinks you’re so fucking pretty when you’re asleep. 

….

When you wake up it's about 10pm, it's dark outside, the van has stopped outside of a gas station and Hughie is gone but his jacket is laid over you. 

When you get out of the van your legs are completely stiff. You stretch your legs and go looking for Hughie. 

You see Hughie sitting on the curb drinking a red bull.

“Hey!” You call out

He turns around and gives you a wave. He looks pretty tired.

You sit down next to him, as close as your weird pseudo-platonic relationship allows.

 “Never thought of you as a curb sitter.”  

“What does that mean?” 

“Like a rebel or a delinquent… I don't know, I just woke up, I'm not thinking.” 

“Yeah you were out for like a good 3 hours.”

You both look up at the sky. The sky is a lot clearer than in New York, you can see the stars.

“I saw that you put your jacket on me when I was asleep… thank you..” you say coyly..

Hughie shortcuts  “It's uh fine! I thought you might be a bit cold so.” You look at his face illuminated by the lights of the gas station behind you. He’s blushing really heavily. “I won’t do it again if it makes you uncomfortable.”

He keeps rambling and you think fuck it. You kiss him.

It is rushed and not what you expected from a first kiss with hughie but its … it's very nice. Something about kissing him feels very right.

“Sorry, it's just I knew if I didn't kiss you, you might give yourself a panic attack from talking so much-” he cuts you off, pulling you back in for another kiss.  

This time it is more than very nice. It’s perfect. He has one hand holding your face and one holding your hand. He’s got you. 

“I wish I had kissed you sooner.” You say pulling back a little. You rest your head on Hughies shoulder. You feel like a weight has been taken off of you. As if you and Hughie can now have each other's back and you can carry each other's burdens from now on. You feel like you might just fall asleep again. 

“You're also really pretty.” Hughie says out of nowhere

“What?”

“Earlier you said the sky was really pretty and I wanted to say you're also really pretty but I didn't so I said it now..”

You chuckle “Thank you, I appreciate it.” 

You both stay there on the sidewalk until Hughie finishes his red bull, but he takes his time with it so he can stay beside you for as long as possible.

#hughie campbell #hughie campbell x reader #the boys #the boys tv #hughie campbell x you

[silvfyre-writings]

Parenting is Stressful (BSD Fanfic)

Hello. Again. I return with another Ranpo and Fukuzawa found family fic because I really felt like writing another one. I honestly just really enjoy the dynamic between the two of them and well, we need some soft family stuff after the stress season 4 and 106.5 put us through!

This one is just as long as the last one, and in the same kind of format, so I hope you all enjoy.

It's 12am right now and I've been righting since 5pm to finish this so Imma sleep while you all read, so feel free to leave a like and/or reblog if you enjoyed the fic!

“Ah, Fukuzawa-san! It’s been a while since we’ve seen you here, how have you and young Ranpo been?” Fukuzawa paused from where he’d just been about to exchange goods with the very tired looking barista behind the counter and found himself meeting the eyes of the mothers he’d managed to befriend after he and Ranpo had moved into the neighbourhood. The group of three women had come to Fukuzawa’s aid more than once in the time since he’d met them, offering sound advice that sometimes worked, and sometimes didn’t.

“Sir?” The barista sighed, reaching out for the money Fukuzawa had just been about to hand them. “As much as I’d love to just give you these, I cannot.”

“My apologies.” Fukuzawa quickly handed the money over as he spoke, wishing the barista a pleasant day before he made his way over to the group of mothers, the goods he’d purchased secured in his arms. “It has indeed been a while. Ranpo and I are doing just fine.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear.” The oldest of the group—Kimiko—said with a smile. A mother of seven, the elderly woman had a lot of advice to give; advice that Fukuzawa was more than happy to listen to as he navigated his own, unique journey of parenting. “I hope that boy of yours hasn’t been giving you too much trouble, lately. He’s a teenager, yes?”

“Yes, he is, but he’s been good.” Fukuzawa said with a nod.

“Just you wait, Fukuzawa-san,” Another mother—Saori—shook her head in exasperation, “teenagers always find a way to make you wish you’d left them in a cardboard box on the side of the road. My own daughter is currently going through a rebellious phase herself, and it’s absolutely dreadful.”

“Oh dear, what has your daughter done this time?” Akiyo, the youngest of the group, gave her companion a sympathetic look, more than ready to listen to whatever tangent Saori was about to embark on.

And this was where Fukuzawa made his escape, before he got dragged into a conversation he did not want to be a part of. “I apologize, but I must be getting home. Ranpo is waiting for me to return. Next time we meet, I’d be more than happy to have some tea with you all.”

“Oh yes, of course, sorry for holding you up, Fukuzawa-san. Don’t be a stranger. See you another day.” Saori smiled and the three women waved as Fukuzawa quickly left the café behind, letting out a sigh as the door shut behind him. He felt a little bad for leaving as abruptly as he had, but despite the tentative friendship he’d formed with the group, he found it hard to listen to the ways they went about handling their own children. Fukuzawa didn’t know if it was because he himself had skipped all the younger years of parenthood, diving straight into the teenage years the three women seemed to despise, or if it was because the relationship he had with Ranpo was different to the usual parent-child one, or if it was because Ranpo was… well, Ranpo, but he just couldn’t agree with some of the things they said and did.

But despite that, they always managed to come through when he truly needed the help.

A crisp breeze blew through the street as Fukuzawa began to walk home, bringing with it a biting chill that was a sure sign that winter was beginning to settle in. Already, the nights were cold enough for Fukuzawa to have the heater on, and the days were starting to follow suit. The wind grew stronger for just a second, causing Fukuzawa to shiver from the chill of it. He’d have to start wearing warmer clothing soon if it got any colder… and somehow convince Ranpo that he too, would need to start layering up in order to stave off the winter winds. The last thing Fukuzawa wanted was to have to deal with Ranpo getting sick again; that one time where the boy had ended up in the hospital for a week had been more than enough stress.

But despite the chill in the air, the day was rather pleasant, enough so that Fukuzawa found himself desiring to take a stroll later in the day when the sun started to set. The area they lived in was always so nice when the sun started to descend, and even prettier when the moon came out from hiding. It would also give him a chance to be alone and take some time for himself, something he didn’t get much of these days.

Don’t get him wrong, he had grown to love Ranpo over the past couple of years, and the quirks that came with the boy, but Fukuzawa had been alone for a long time before meeting Ranpo, and was used to his own company; yet Ranpo was as clingy as he was smart, and had issues with abandonment as big as the Tokyo Tower. Of course, Fukuzawa had been working on those issues with Ranpo, making sure to tell the boy how long he’d roughly be gone for and where he’d be going—even though Ranpo’s lack of directional sense meant he wouldn’t even know how to get to wherever Fukuzawa was—and always made sure that his phone was charged and off silent. He’d also learnt that it was best to be direct with Ranpo, straight up telling the kid when he needed some space to himself, and that no, it wasn’t because of Ranpo—even though it sometimes was—and that he just enjoyed his own company at times.

Ranpo always looked sullen whenever Fukuzawa left the house without him, but at least he wasn’t trying to keep him in the house anymore.

Fukuzawa turned down the street that his and Ranpo’s home was situated on and shivered once more as the wind grew stronger with its gusts, picking up the pace so that he could get back inside into the warmth of the apartment sooner rather than later. As he approached the door, Fukuzawa found himself coming to a halt as a loud crash came from inside.

He sighed.

Of course he couldn’t leave the house for an hour without Ranpo getting up to some kind of mischief. Just so long as he hasn’t set fire to the kitchen, I don’t care. Fukuzawa thought, preparing himself for what lay beyond the door for him.

“I’m home.” He called out into the suddenly silent home, frowning when he didn’t hear footsteps coming to greet him like they usually did. “Ranpo?”

Remembering the crash he’d heard, Fukuzawa felt his concern begin to rise, and he quickly toed off his sandals and placed the bags of baked goods on the kitchen counter. Both the living room and kitchen were devoid of any signs of Ranpo, although there were signs of life; papers spread across the kitchen table haphazardly, some even finding a place to live on the floor, and the remains of Ranpo’s snacks had been left on the kotatsu in the living room. Fukuzawa’s eye twitched as he distinctly remembered telling Ranpo to clean up the mess before he’d left. It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him to find his request ignored, as was the norm these days. He’d just remind him to do so once he actually found the boy.

“Ranpo?” Fukuzawa called again, finally hearing some kind of response as a noise came from the direction of Ranpo’s bedroom. It wasn’t a greeting, but rather, some rather aggressive cursing. The kind that usually came after something had gone wrong that one was desperately trying to fix before being discovered. Fukuzawa sighed and made his way towards Ranpo’s room, knocking on the closed door. “You have five seconds before I open the door, kid.”

“Please don’t come in.” Came Ranpo’s voice through the wood. It sounded a little frantic, and Fukuzawa heard a pained yelp and another crash as Ranpo undoubtedly tripped over something he’d left on his bedroom floor, which was then followed by a thud as something heavy hit the floor.

Something heavy that sounded like furniture.

Fukuzawa’s heart skipped a beat. Five seconds be damned. “I’m coming in.”

“No, no—wait!” Ranpo’s voice grew an octave, but Fukuzawa ignored it as he pushed the door open, taking in the scene before him.

Ranpo’s room was always messy, so the sight of the kids’ belongings all over the floor wasn’t a surprise to him. He’d long since given up that particular argument, although the room was messier than usual, almost as if Ranpo had been searching for something. What was surprising, was the shelves that stood next to Ranpo’s closet was no longer upright, but laying on the floor, all the books and knick knacks scattered about in the general vicinity.

And in the middle of the chaos was Ranpo, dressed in an oversized sweater and shorts, looking up at Fukuzawa from his spot on the floor with an expression that started off quite frantic, but flitted through a series of emotions before settling on nonchalance. Fukuzawa just blinked at the boy. “What happened?”

“Uh… it fell?” Ranpo was frowning now, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head.

Fukuzawa threw Ranpo a stern look.

“I may have been standing on it?”

“Are you telling me, or asking me?” Fukuzawa asked, stepping further into the room, doing his best to avoid stepping on anything in his path. “Pray tell, why you were standing on the shelving in the first place?”

“I needed something from the top shelf and you weren’t home to grab it for me.” Ranpo shrugged, making no move to stand up, or even clear a path for Fukuzawa, which irked the older man just a little. “So I decided to just grab it myself.”

“By climbing it?”

“What else was I supposed to do? Wait for you? I needed it now.” Ranpo scoffed, crossing his arms unhappily.

“Grab a chair?” Fukuzawa suggested, coming to crouch beside Ranpo, ignoring the way Ranpo’s face flushed red in embarrassment. Despite Ranpo’s high intellect, sometimes the boy did stupid things, such as scaling a bookcase like a monkey rather than do the sensible thing and grab a chair to boost him up the necessary height. But instead of scolding Ranpo, Fukuzawa just sighed. “No matter. Were you hurt?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Fukuzawa said, not believing Ranpo’s words. If the bookcase had fallen when Ranpo had been standing on it, then it must’ve fallen on top of Ranpo. Yet the boy refused to look at him, and the way he was sitting gave no indication of any hidden injury.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Ranpo snapped and climbed to his feet before he stormed from the room, slamming the door shut behind him as he left. Fukuzawa couldn’t help but blink at the abrupt departure. In the time they’d been living together, Ranpo had never slammed a door, had never been upset enough to need to be aggressive with inanimate objects. It was almost as if Ranpo had been angry, an emotion that Fukuzawa had rarely seen the kid openly express before—the last time being that night in the theatre when Ranpo had been so angry at not understanding the adult world, he’d thrown a fit—and the outburst had Fukuzawa just a little worried.

Give him some space. Fukuzawa told himself, rising to his feet and making quick work of uprighting the fallen bookcase, realizing that that must’ve been what Ranpo was doing before he’d walked in. Once the bookcase was back where it was supposed to be, Fukuzawa picked up everything he recalled seeing on the bookcase and placing it on Ranpo’s bed to be put away later. Anything he wasn’t sure about, was placed at the base of the shelf; books uncrumpled and closed, toys checked for damage before being put aside, and unknown objects receiving the same treatment. Fukuzawa didn’t dare to touch anything else and left the room once he was finished.

The bags he’d left on the counter were gone by the time he emerged, and the door to the bathroom was closed, and it was obvious that Ranpo wanted to be left alone for now. So, Fukuzawa did just that, tidying up the papers on the kitchen table and placing the rubbish left behind in the bin where it belonged. After everything was back in order, Fukuzawa set about making dinner as a way of passing the time. Dinner was never a complicated affair for the two of them, on account of Fukuzawa not being much of a cook to begin with, and Ranpo only eating one meal a day—sometimes two if he was lucky—so most of the time, dinner was literally rice, some vegetables and meat in a bowl. Sometimes Ranpo would request a specific dish that he remembered his parents making for him once, so Fukuzawa would do his best to replicate it, but that was about as fancy as dinner got.

“Ranpo, dinner’s ready.” Fukuzawa knocked on the bathroom door once he’d dished up dinner. Ranpo had yet to emerge from the bathroom, and based upon the silence he received in return, had no intention of leaving it anytime soon.

Fukuzawa sighed.

“Would you like me to put it aside for you to eat later?”

No response.

Fukuzawa bit back a second sigh, instead, bringing forth all the patience he had. “I’ll leave it in the microwave for you. Make sure you eat tonight, though. You didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”

He waited a few seconds in case Ranpo had something to say, but still received no response, so Fukuzawa made his way back to the kitchen, placing Ranpo’s portion of dinner in the microwave like he’d promised before taking his own to the table and eating it. When he was halfway through his meal, he heard the click of the bathroom door, and a soft pattering of footsteps enter the kitchen. Fukuzawa watched from the corner of his eye as Ranpo threw the most certainly empty bakery bags in the trash—he had to stop himself from saying something about that, not wanting to upset Ranpo even further, but still upset himself since not everything in that bag had been for Ranpo to begin with—before he grabbed his dinner and joined Fukuzawa at the table.

Fukuzawa caught himself staring for a moment too long, Ranpo’s eyes flickering up towards him before the boy angrily jabbed his chopsticks into food, dropping his gaze and refusing to spare his guardian a single glance while he ate. And despite how desperately Fukuzawa wanted to ask Ranpo what was bothering him to have brought about this sudden anger, he kept silent, going back to his own meal, even though the food was now tasteless and felt like dirt in his mouth.

Not a single word was shared between the two while they ate, and Ranpo only ended up eating half of his dinner before he left the table, leaving his unfinished bowl on the table for Fukuzawa to no doubt deal with. As Ranpo stood, the chair scraped against the floor harshly, the noise grating on Fukuzawa’s fraying nerves.

He couldn’t stop himself. “I understand if you need space because you are upset, but there is no need to lash out like this.”

Ranpo paused just before the hallway and looked over his shoulder, glaring at Fukuzawa, who did his best to return the glare with a calm look. He already regretted the words he’d said as they’d left his mouth, knowing that responding to Ranpo’s sour mood with his own was just going to cause an argument that would leave the both of them feeling awful. Yet, Fukuzawa was tired. Tired of constantly cleaning up after Ranpo, tired of trying to figure out what was going through the kids’ head.

Mostly, he was just tired of parenting.

Deep down, Fukuzawa knew that this was just how the whole parenting gimmick worked; after all, he’d heard about it all from Kimiko and the others over time.

“Children love nothing more than to make our lives hell, but we keep loving and guiding them regardless. That’s just what being a parent is. It’s never the child’s fault when they act out, it’s ours for failing to understand them. Even if the reasons don’t always make sense.”

The sound of a door slamming drew Fukuzawa from his thoughts and he realized that Ranpo had gone back to his room, leaving him alone to a silent house. Fukuzawa sighed, bringing one hand up so that he could rest his hand on it as he pondered over how to handle this. This wasn’t the first time that the two of them had had a disagreement, and he had a feeling that it wouldn’t be the last, but still… something about this disagreement seemed different.

But he couldn’t put a finger on what it was.

Fukuzawa sighed and stood to put away the dishes before he retired to his own room to sleep.

Tomorrow would be a better day. He was certain of it.

When Fukuzawa woke the next morning, he strongly considered staying in bed considering it felt like the entire apartment had turned to ice overnight. He could’ve sworn he’d turned the heating on before going to bed, but suddenly, he wasn’t sure if he had. Just as he was about to get up and check on the heating system, there was a knock on his door just seconds before it creaked open the tiniest bit.

“The heating’s busted.” Ranpo’s head poked around the corner of the door as he stared down at Fukuzawa, looking just as cold as Fukuzawa felt.

Well, that explains why its so cold. “I see. I’ll take a look in a moment.”

“What you don’t believe me that it’s broken?” Fukuzawa blinked at Ranpo’s words, recognizing the tone as an unhappy one. Suddenly, the optimism that he’d had last night that today would be a better day was gone, replaced by exhaustion once again.

“That’s not what I meant.” Fukuzawa got up from his futon walking over to his closet to grab out something warm to wear. From the corner of his eye, he could see Ranpo shivering and grabbed another hoodie, chucking it in the kid’s direction. “I’ll simply take a look and see if I can fix it. If not, I’ll call someone to come take a look.”

“It’s busted busted though.” Ranpo said as he pulled on the hoodie over his sleepwear.

Fukuzawa paused. “What did you do?”

“Why do you think I did something?” A defensive note crept into Ranpo’s voice, and he crossed his arms across his chest. “It went out during the night, and I woke up cold. So I looked at it.”

“And?”

Ranpo shrugged. “It’s broken.”

“Ranpo.”

“What?” Ranpo snapped, lifting his gaze from where it had been focused on the floor to glare at Fukuzawa. “What do you want me to say? It’s not like I broke it. All I did was try and fix it and it didn’t work.”

“That’s all you had to say, not make me play guessing games with you.” Fukuzawa snapped back, pushing past Ranpo to leave his room. “There’s no need to get angry with me when I don’t immediately understand what you’re trying to tell me either.”

“I’m not angry.” Ranpo said as he followed Fukuzawa down the hall.

“Really? You’ve been snapping since I got back from the bakery yesterday, so excuse me for believing otherwise.”

“I had a bookcase fall on me, of course I wasn’t going to be happy about it.” Ranpo stopped in the middle of the living room. “And then you barged in when I told you not to and started looking at me like I was stupid!”

“Ranpo—”

“And then when I tried to give myself space, you kept bothering me!” Ranpo continued, pretending as if Fukuzawa hadn’t even tried to say anything. “I don’t need you judging me, I’ve had enough of that from everyone else in my life!”

“Ranpo!” Fukuzawa yelled, shutting the boy up before he could continue on his rant. Fukuzawa studied the way that Ranpo’s fists were clenched tight, shaking slightly from the tension within them, and how his bangs were carefully obstructing his eyes from view. Fukuzawa took a breath, trying to calm himself, even though his voice still came out rather terse. “Do not yell to make your point. Go cool off. When you are calm, we can talk.”

“Whatever.” Ranpo pushed past Fukuzawa, making his way towards the front door. Fukuzawa let him go, watching Ranpo pull his shoes on and leave, wincing at the loud slam that followed. And sighed. This was not how he’d imagined his morning going, not in the slightest, and he found himself staring at the door, wondering how it had gone so wrong in the first place.

Fukuzawa moved to sit on the couch, tipping his head to rest against the back of it as he thought back on Ranpo’s words. There had to be some kind of hint within what Ranpo had said that would enlighten Fukuzawa as to what was bothering his ward, yet the longer Fukuzawa thought on it, the more confused he was. He recalled Ranpo saying that he’d been upset by the falling bookcase—which was fair, and completely understandable—but Fukuzawa couldn’t understand what had caused the bad mood to last so long. Only Ranpo would be able to tell him just what it was that had upset him, so Fukuzawa resigned himself to waiting for Ranpo’s return, preparing himself for what to say.

Midday came, and Ranpo wasn’t home.

Sunset arrived, and still, Ranpo wasn’t home.

Fukuzawa tried to stop himself from worrying. It wasn’t the first time that Ranpo had been gone an entire day, even though they didn’t happen all that often, so he sat on the couch and watched the clock as time ticked by. He’d give Ranpo until the time they usually had dinner before he started worrying.

It was nine o’clock and Ranpo hadn’t walked through the door.

The worry that Fukuzawa had carefully buried sprung free, washing over him along with a feeling of absolute dread. Unable to stay sitting, he began to pace, pressing his phone to his ear as he dialled Ranpo’s number, only to freeze as he heard the device begin to ring from the kid’s room. His heart began to pound, so loud that he could hear it in his ears, feel it trying to escape from his chest. He took a breath to calm himself.

But he couldn’t stop the worry from turning into fear.

Ranpo was outside, alone, with no way of contacting him.

I have to find him. The thought was quick, and barely processed before Fukuzawa was flying around the house, pulling on his warmest clothing while also making sure he grabbed an extra jacket, remembering that Ranpo hadn’t gotten dressed before he’d left and that the nights were almost winter temperatures despite it still being early fall. He took the time to scribble a quick note just in case Ranpo happened to come home while he was gone and left the apartment, shutting the door, but leaving it unlocked.

He'd be scolded for it later, he was almost certain of it, but in that moment, all Fukuzawa could care about was finding Ranpo and apologizing to the kid. What for, he still didn’t know, but maybe the chill in the air would help him figure it out.

Where are you, Ranpo? Fukuzawa turned down yet another street after the one he’d just checked had yielded no results, the same as all the usual spots Fukuzawa had checked that Ranpo might’ve been hiding at. The man let out a shiver as a gust of wind chilled him right to the bone. At this point he didn’t care if Ranpo never forgave him for what it was that he’d done, just so long as he found the boy safe and sound.

But it had been an hour since Fukuzawa had started searching, and his fear was starting to turn into barely restrained panic. What was he supposed to do if he couldn’t find Ranpo? He’d have to call the police, that much was certain, but what could he say? Ranpo was a teenager, and it seemed to be common knowledge amongst law enforcement that teens often ran away from home, so what would stop them from just brushing Fukuzawa’s worry off like he shouldn’t be worried about the child he’d promised to protect being out on the streets alone.

If he got desperate, there was one person he could call for help, but he’d rather not indebt himself to a certain underground doctor if he didn’t have to.

And really, what would it say about Fukuzawa if he had to rely on someone else to find Ranpo for him? He’d taken pride in how he’d managed to come to understand the boy he’d taken in—even though it had taken a long time—and a part of him was confident that he could find Ranpo. Even if he was mad, Ranpo wouldn’t have wandered too far, that much Fukuzawa knew at least. But he’d checked every—

He paused.

There was one place he’d neglected to check, a place that the two of them had only visited once and while within walking distance from their apartment, was still further than Ranpo was comfortable travelling, especially on his own.

But he had nothing else to go off, so without another thought, Fukuzawa turned on his heel and to walk, hoping that he was right.

And he was.

Fukuzawa let out a sigh of relief, feeling the fear that had kept him going these past hours draining out of him, leaving him with just exhaustion and relief. The small park that rose to meet him was a welcome sight, as was the lone figure curled up against the lone cherry blossom tree that stood in the middle. The park was a little hidden gem that he and Ranpo had discovered while exploring the neighbourhood after they’d just moved in; a peaceful little place not big enough for children to play in, so it was left alone for the most part. In reality, it was just a walking path, used to get from one point to another without having to walk to the end of the street and back down another, but to the two of them, it was a park, a place to come to when one needed time to gather their thoughts.

There were other trees along the path, guiding people along, but the lone cherry blossom stood off from the rest of them, on a small rise that made it just that little bit taller than the others. It was almost as if it had been planted and forgotten about long ago, left to grow, alone and isolated from the other trees. Or maybe it had been here first, and the other trees had been planted after it? Who was to say?

Regardless, that lone tree had been there for the two of them just as much as they had been for each other. Fukuzawa carefully made his way over towards the tree, unable to stop the frown that adorned his face when he saw the shivers running through Ranpo’s body. Ranpo was curled up as small as he could make himself, hugging himself tight to conserve what little warmth he still had, and the hood of Fukuzawa’s hoodie pulled over his head, hiding his face from view.

Even though he had brought along a coat for this specific purpose, Fukuzawa found himself shrugging off his own coat and crouching to drape it over Ranpo’s shoulders. Immediately, Ranpo huddled into the warmth, drawing the coat around himself tighter. Fukuzawa didn’t hesitate to layer the second coat over the top, letting it cover Ranpo’s head even more.

“I’m sorry.” Fukuzawa said as he continued to crouch.

A singular green eye looked at him as Ranpo lifted his head slightly, an unreadable look on his face. A few minutes of silence passed before Ranpo finally spoke. “Why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know.” Fukuzawa admitted. “I understand I upset you somehow, but I do not know what I did.”

Ranpo hummed. He dropped his head again.

Fukuzawa waited patiently.

“It’s stupid.” Ranpo finally said.

“It’s not stupid if it made you run away.”

Ranpo’s head moved again, and Fukuzawa was graced with the presence of both eyes this time, rimmed in red. Ranpo had been crying. “Then you’ll think it’s stupid.”

“Tell me anyway.” Fukuzawa said, shifting so that he could sit on the ground, ignoring how cold it was. He was more than willing to endure a bit of cold if it led to Ranpo opening up to him.

Ranpo fidgeted for some time, deep in thought as he tried to gather his words together. It wasn’t often that Ranpo found it hard to say what it was that he wanted to, but even someone as blunt as him could be rendered speechless at times.

Let him be the one to guide the conversation. The words filtered into his mind, advice he’d been given once when first learning how to navigate parenting, advice that had so far, not failed him when he’d needed it. So Fukuzawa continued to wait.

“You looked at me like I was stupid.” Ranpo said quietly.

Fukuzawa frowned, confused. Had he? “When did I do that?”

“When the bookcase fell.” Ranpo hunched in on himself. “You looked at me like I was stupid.”

But it was stupid. Fukuzawa found himself thinking, not that he dared to voice his thoughts. Instead, he tried to recall just what kind of face he’d been making at the time, but couldn’t quite remember. He was almost certain that it hadn’t been the expression that Ranpo had thought he’d seen. “If that was how it looked to you in the moment, then I apologize. However, it was foolish to not think through climbing the bookcase. You could’ve been hurt.”

“I know that, now.”

“But that’s not the only reason, is it? Why you were angry, I mean.”

Ranpo shook his head. “I got angry when you came into my room. When I told you no. And then you kept pushing when I was trying to think and I got mad.”

“Ah…”

“Told you it was stupid.”

“It’s not.” It was Fukuzawa’s turn to shake his head. “You had every right to be upset when I entered your room when you didn’t want me to. I apologize for that. But what about this morning? When you left the house.”

“Insecurities.” Was all Ranpo said, and was the only answer Fukuzawa needed. Everyone had their moments where their inner demons got the better of them, and Ranpo’s demons of not being enough were no better. Ranpo must’ve been trying to get back onto Fukuzawa’s good side when the heating had gone down by trying to fix it, only to have it not go the way he’d planned and end up feeling worse as a result. Which explained why the boy had been so quick to anger at the time.

“I understand.” And Fukuzawa did, which was why he was more than happy to leave the conversation at that. “How about we go home? You must be freezing.”

Ranpo nodded, accepting Fukuzawa’s hand to pull himself upright, wrapping the jackets around him more as he shivered. “Did you get the heating fixed?”

“I forgot to after our argument. I’ll call them in the morning. There should be some more blankets if you need them.” Fukuzawa said, just barely catching the way Ranpo’s face fell at his words. He let out a quiet sigh and crouched in front of Ranpo, an obvious invitation. “Or if you want, you can sleep in my room.”

A cold, but slowly warming weight draped itself across Fukuzawa’s back, and the older man stood, making sure Ranpo was secure before he started walking. “’kay. Can we have hot chocolate when we get back?”

“I’ll make some.”

-----

Shopping was by far, the worst thing in existence. Fukuzawa found it hard to believe that there were actually people that enjoyed going out to the busy shopping centres and browsing the stores there for hours on end. If people just came out and bought what they needed, then the shopping experience would be so much better in his opinion. Fukuzawa sighed as he dodged yet another group of students loitering in the middle of the walkway, chatting with each other almost like there was literally nowhere else for them to do so. But Fukuzawa kept his head down and didn’t say anything. The longer he remained in the centre, the more his sanity would decline.

Normally, he didn’t need to set foot in the local shopping centre, everything he needed could usually be found at the small convenience store or at the weekly markets. But unfortunately, clothes were one thing that couldn’t be found at either of those, so he’d braved the crowds—after school hours no less—and walked around the many clothing stores, trying to find clothing that catered to his ward’s tastes.

Because Ranpo refused to set foot in such a crowded place unless it was for work, and the boy had been very firm in telling Fukuzawa that shopping for clothes was not a good enough reason. Fukuzawa had tried to argue that Ranpo come along to at least try on the clothes he was buying, but still, Ranpo had stood his ground, going as far as to shut himself away in the bathroom until Fukuzawa had given up and asked for measurements so he could at least buy the right size clothing.

Fukuzawa couldn’t wait to get out of the building so he could go home; all he had to left to do was buy socks, which should’ve been the easiest task of them all, but no, he had to buy the right kind of socks because if they were wrong then Ranpo was nothing if not fussy about what kind of socks he wore. Well, he was fussy about everything he wore, but when it came to socks, the fussiness was dialled to the extreme; it tended to drive Fukuzawa up the wall, yet he still did it anyway.

Because he cared.

The next time Ranpo tried to argue that Fukuzawa didn’t care enough, he was going to make the boy do his own clothes shopping.

The store he needed came into few and Fukuzawa relaxed. Finally, he would be done and free to go home. Quickly, he tracked down the nearest staff member and watched as their face went from ready to help, to mildly horrified as he asked them for twenty pairs of a specific pair of socks, which they thankfully had in stock. Just as fast as he’d gotten the socks, he paid for them and promptly fled the store, mentally hoping that the next time he had to set foot inside, it would have new staff that wouldn’t remember him and his request. Look at me… a former swordsman shopping for socks of all things.

Fukuzawa felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out, seeing that Ranpo had messaged him. He stared at the notification for a couple of minutes, steeling himself for what the message may contain; the phone buzzing once more with another message. He flipped it open.

[16:43]

Greatest Detective: Are you still shopping?

[16:45]

Greatest Detective: Don’t ignore me.

Cat Dad: I am. Did you need something?

Fukuzawa bit back a sigh at seeing the nickname Ranpo had changed his name to, vowing to change it back when it got a chance to, although cat dad was certainly better than the original old man he’d started off with. He watched as the text bubble indicating Ranpo was typing popped up and then disappeared, repeating itself several times. Fukuzawa narrowed his eyes at his phone; Ranpo was delaying in telling him, which meant one of two things. One, he’d broken or lost something that he needed replaced, or two, it was going to be something stupid.

Bzzt. Finally.

[16:50]

Greatest Detective: Bandages.

Cat Dad: What did you do?

Greatest Detective: Nothing hospital worthy.

Fukuzawa sighed, turning away from the entrance he’d been making his way towards, heading towards the pharmacy he’d passed by earlier. He tapped out a response.

[16:51]

Cat Dad: I’ll get some. Don’t move until I get home.

“I hope you know how lucky you were.” Fukuzawa said as he dabbed Ranpo’s face with a damp cloth, carefully wiping away the blood that marred the kid’s face and apologizing when he winced. “How did you even fall off the balcony in the first place?”

Ranpo kicked his foot anxiously against the cupboard door; Ranpo sitting on the kitchen bench rather than a chair because it had been easier for Fukuzawa to clean up the boy’s wounds if he was at eye level. Fukuzawa was honestly impressed that after falling from their second story apartment, that Ranpo had only come away with minor injuries; a sprained wrist being the worst of the injuries, although the amount of blood had nearly given Fukuzawa a heart attack. Wiping away most of the blood had revealed a few cuts and lots of scrapes that could be easily treated with some antiseptic and band aids.

“I didn’t mean to.” Ranpo huffed, jerking away when Fukuzawa was a little too rough. Fukuzawa apologized before lightening his touch. “I was sitting outside and the wind caught one of my cases, so I tried to catch it, and went over the balcony.”

Fukuzawa sucked in a breath, knowing exactly how much worse this little accident could’ve been. He pulled back, chucking the bloodied cloth in the sink to be disposed of later before he grabbed a plaster to put on Ranpo’s cheek. “You are lucky.” He repeated.

“I know. Don’t need to remind me.”

Fukuzawa nodded, and instead gestured towards Ranpo’s wrist. “How’s the swelling?”

Ranpo pulled away the bag of frozen peas—because apparently the ice pack Fukuzawa had thought they’d owned had vanished—and Fukuzawa gently took the injured limb into his gentle grasp, the irony that it was the same wrist that Ranpo had broken years ago not lost on him. “It doesn’t look too bad. I’ll wrap it for now and we’ll see how it goes.”

A nod was the only response he got, so Fukuzawa let the silence continue has he pulled out the bandages he’d only just bought and began to wrap them around Ranpo’s wrist, making sure that they weren’t too tight, but not too loose either.

Once he was done, he stepped back to admire his handiwork, and nodded. “All done. No more balconies, okay?”

“Yes, Fukuzawa-san.” Ranpo sighed, shimmying off the bench and cleaning up the medical supplies, putting them back in the first aid kit where they belonged, while Fukuzawa went about preparing that night’s dinner. The silence between the two of them lasted approximately two minutes before Ranpo started speaking again. “Did you go check out that building that that Natsume guy told you about?”

“I did. It’s not the entire building, only the fourth floor, but it’s in a good location. It has a café below it.”

“A café?” Ranpo’s eyes lit up in delight as he spun to face Fukuzawa, looking like Christmas had come early. And well, when sweets were involved, it may as well have been. “You didn’t eat there without me, did you?”

Fukuzawa raised an eyebrow and gave Ranpo a look. “Of course not. I want you to see the building anyway before I confirm anything, so you can come with me next time and we’ll get lunch there. How does that sound?”

Ranpo grinned up at him without saying anything, the smile more than enough to bring a smile to Fukuzawa’s own face. “Is that enough bribery to get you to help with dinner?”

“Nope!”

Why is it so busy? How do all these people live in Yokohama? Fukuzawa grimaced as he bumped against another passenger that was standing inches away from him. The passenger threw him a dirty look before inching away, but where he intended to go, Fukuzawa didn’t know because the train was cramped, filled with people on their way to work, and students on their way to school. He’d completely forgotten about the morning rush that day as he’d dragged Ranpo out of bed and out of the house with the intention of seeing the potential building they would use as a base for their detective agency, and he was very much regretting not waiting an extra hour. The only consolation was that most of the crowd should empty by the next stop… hopefully.

“Ouch! Watch where you’re standing if you’re gonna lose your balance like that!” Ranpo’s voice snapped, and Fukuzawa refocused his attention on the present. Ranpo had been separated from him when they’d gotten on the train, but he was still close enough that if Fukuzawa really wanted to, he could reach across people and grab him. Right now, though, Ranpo was glaring up at a tall businessman that threatened to tower over Fukuzawa, cradling his injured wrist against his chest. There was a slightly pained look to the boy’s face, and it didn’t take long for Fukuzawa to put together that the man had bumped into his wrist.

“Maybe you shouldn’t stand so close if you don’t want to be stepped on, kid.” The man growled, leaning over in a way that had Ranpo leaning back to avoid him. Ranpo’s eyes widened just the tiniest amount, and Fukuzawa saw his throat move as he swallowed uneasily.

Oh no you don’t. “Excuse me.” Fukuzawa said gently as he began to move, carefully navigating between disgruntled passengers before he came to a stop behind Ranpo, dropping one hand on the kids’ shoulder, while the other went to grab a hold of the grip. His eyes met that of the businessman “Is there a problem, sir?”

The businessman, who did indeed tower over Fukuzawa, lifted his gaze to glare at Fukuzawa, who was more than happy to return it. He wasn’t called the Silver Wolf for nothing after all. The two stared at each other intensely, other passengers looking at them warily and edging away where possible. Finally, the man looked away. “Tch. There’s no problem. Teach your kid some manners.”

“Manners? It’s you—” Fukuzawa squeezed Ranpo’s shoulder warningly to stop him from continuing.

“It’s not worth it.” He said, shifting so that he was between the man and Ranpo. “You alright?”

Ranpo seemed to deflate, the tension Fukuzawa hadn’t noticed until he’d been standing behind him leaving his body a little, although he still appeared to be on edge. Ranpo let go of the grip in favour of holding onto Fukuzawa’s yukata. “I’m fine.” He said, his fist tightening its grip. “He knocked my wrist, that’s all.”

Fukuzawa nodded. “Just stay close, we’ll be there soon.”

Ranpo nodded and stepped closer to Fukuzawa, hiding away from the world in the only way he seemed to know how. Not that Fukuzawa minded, as he wrapped his free arm around Ranpo’s shoulders. Thankfully, the train began to slow, coming to a stop and Fukuzawa felt like he could breathe again as the train began to empty; new passengers embarking, but as the train started off again, it was clear in the way everyone seemed more relaxed, that it was much emptier than before.

Small mercies.

After another twenty minutes, they reached their stop, and Fukuzawa guided Ranpo off the train and away from the rest of the crowd. “Show me your wrist.” Fukuzawa said once he’d found a quiet place.

Ranpo looked up at him with a confused look, but offered the limb up anyway. “What, do you think a little bump is going to make it worse? As if. I’m not that fragile.”

“I’m just making sure.” Fukuzawa explained, ignoring Ranpo’s ‘fragile’ comment entirely, satisfied when the bandages seemed to be as tight as they had been when he’d wrapped the limb that morning. “Let’s go.”

“Ah, can we…” Ranpo started before trailing off.

Fukuzawa looked over his shoulder, a touch concerned when he noticed Ranpo seemed paler than before. “What is it?”

“Can we wait a minute? For the crowds to leave, I mean.”

Fukuzawa looked over at the crowds in question, and for once, was more than happy to adhere to Ranpo’s request. There were a lot of people leaving and entering the station, more than he was willing to force his way through. It would be far easier on the both of them if they waited for the crowd to thin before continuing on their way. “Sure, the buildings not going anywhere. We can wait.”

As it turned out, the crowds within the station were not exclusive to the station, because when Fukuzawa and Ranpo finally managed to get out of the station, the streets were just as busy. There were people literally everywhere, and it was admittedly, a little disorienting. He could feel Ranpo’s grip on his clothes tighten as a huge crowd of workers bustled around them, carrying on without a care in the world. Is there something happening? Fukuzawa frowned, making sure he had a hold of Ranpo as he guided the boy down the street, doing his best to avoid them running into other people. The crowds continued to grow, people chattering excitedly as they walked in the same direction.

“Can we find another route?” Ranpo’s quiet voice was almost drowned out by the cacophony of the crowd; if not for Fukuzawa keeping an ear out for his ward, he wouldn’t have heard the words at all.

And Fukuzawa would’ve loved to have taken another route that would take them away from the crowds, but this was the only route he knew—for now at least, he’d make sure to learn other routes in case this happened again—and he didn’t particularly want to drag out the commute any longer than necessary. “This is the only way, I’m afraid. Just bear with it a little longer.”

There was a reason why Fukuzawa left Ranpo behind when going into overly crowded areas.

Ranpo’s knuckles were white where they were clutching at him.

Pushing Ranpo in front of him, Fukuzawa began to force his way through the crowd, using his taller frame to carve a path. The crowd had steadily been building, and as they rounded a corner, Fukuzawa realized why there had been such a large group of people gathering. How convenient, that on the one day he brought Ranpo with him, it would also be the same day as the opening of the new shopping complex a few streets down from their destination. Fukuzawa’s pace slowed, natural-born curiosity causing him to look over at the shiny new building.

Several things happened then.

Loud cheers erupted from the gathered people.

Ranpo fell to his knees, clapping his hands over his ears, eyes squeezed together.

The doors to the building opened.

In a split second, Fukuzawa made a decision and reached down to wrap a hand around Ranpo’s upper arm and pull, forcibly dragging the boy to his feet. Normally, he wouldn’t be so rough, coaxing Ranpo into moving rather than forcing him, but once the crowd began to move, it was no longer about comfort, but making sure that Ranpo didn’t get trampled. Fukuzawa was quick, pulling Ranpo close and fighting against the tide. All the while, Ranpo stumbled behind him, eyes shut and body trembling.

Finally, the crowd opened up, and the two of them were free from people, but still, Fukuzawa didn’t stop moving. He kept dragging Ranpo behind him until he spotted a public bathroom, dragging the two of them into the safety of the empty—thankfully—building. It was then that Ranpo jerked away from him, falling to the ground, and curling into a ball, the emotions he’d been holding back breaking free. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and his breathing turned into a stuttering mess. He was panicking, and Fukuzawa could do nothing but watch.

Such an event had happened before, not long after Fukuzawa had taken Ranpo in, where they’d been shopping for supplies after moving into their current apartment. Fukuzawa hadn’t been able to recognize the signs at first, chalking up Ranpo’s hesitance of entering the building as more of a reluctance. But the shopping centre had been busy that day, and Ranpo had frozen stiff when they’d wound up in a particularly busy section. Ranpo had frozen for exactly ten seconds before the emotions had exploded out of him, and he’d become a panicked mess; Fukuzawa near panic himself. In the end, he’d scooped Ranpo off the ground and fled the centre, which had made the panic worse, and he’d wound up being punched in the face by a small fist. It was the first time Fukuzawa had experienced a panic attack from Ranpo, and he’d been hoping to never experience another one.

But of course, he was never that lucky.

Fukuzawa sat on the floor near Ranpo, near enough so that his presence was known, but not close enough that he’d make the panic worse. After that day in the mall, Ranpo had described how the panic had felt to him—like he was being squeezed and suffocated at the same time by some unknown force.

“What helps?” Fukuzawa had asked.

“Nothing.” Ranpo had whispered in return.

After the first panic attack, Fukuzawa had read up on them, reading stories about what had helped other people, and advice for what to do if someone you knew was experiencing one, so theoretically, he knew he could probably help. But none of that advice was applicable to Ranpo, not when the boy himself didn’t know what helped him. So, Fukuzawa was left to watch as Ranpo gasped and choked on the air, body shaking so violently, it was closer to a seizure than panic; emotions running rampant throughout his body.

Fukuzawa frowned, trying to think of anything he could do to help. Supposedly touch helped some people calm down, the physical contact between two people grounding them to reality and reassuring them that they weren’t alone. He didn’t know if Ranpo would appreciate being touched, so Fukuzawa scooted just that little bit closer so that he could lay his hand beside Ranpo’s curled fist, his fingers brushing the others hand just enough to let him know it was there.

He was rewarded when Ranpo’s hand latched onto his own, squeezing tightly with strength he didn’t know Ranpo even had. Fukuzawa rubbed his thumb across smooth skin, brushing over the knuckles in a repetitive, soothing motion. As he did so, he took deep breaths, exaggerating them so that Ranpo could clearly hear him—he’d heard that that was another technique one could use during a panic attack—and after another minute or so of Ranpo breathing erratically, his breaths began to sync up to Fukuzawa’s own. Once or twice, Ranpo’s breath would hitch and pick up speed, but a quick squeeze of Fukuzawa’s hand stopped it from getting out of hand again.

Eventually, Ranpo unfurled from his balled-up position, although he didn’t make a move to get up off the floor. He was blinking dazedly at nothing in particular, and looked exhausted.

Fukuzawa tapped his thumb against the back of Ranpo’s hand, drawing the boy’s attention towards him. He kept his voice low. “How are you feeling?”

Ranpo blinked at him. “Tired.”

“Do you want to go home?” Fukuzawa asked.

The grip on his hand tightened momentarily before it relaxed. A small nod followed.

“Can I touch you?”

Another nod.

With a nod of his own, Fukuzawa gave a gentle tug, and Ranpo inched closer. Another tug brought the kid into his arms and Fukuzawa didn’t hesitate to stand, bringing Ranpo with him. One arm went around his neck and the other latched onto his yukata, a head burying itself into his shoulder. No words were said—not that they needed to be—as Fukuzawa strode out of the bathroom, his phone in hand to call a taxi to take them home. There was no way in hell he was going to risk taking the train back home, not with Ranpo still feeling the effects of being overwhelmed. Fukuzawa tightened his grip; he should’ve realized what was happening the moment Ranpo had asked him for a break.

Ranpo was good at hiding his discomfort, often believing that any weakness shown in public was a sign of him being different. After all, normal people didn’t have emotional breakdowns and panic attacks when the crowds got too large, according to Ranpo anyway. Fukuzawa had been quick to refute that argument, refusing to let it become a mindset. Some people loved crowds, and others hated them, and it didn’t matter which you were, anyone was at risk of being overwhelmed. Ranpo was unfortunately, just one of the people that was more at risk.

“We’ll go another day. Just focus on staying calm.” Fukuzawa soothed as he ran a hand through Ranpo’s hair when he felt another shiver against his leg. Thankfully, the two of them hadn’t had to wait long for a taxi, and despite the exuberant fare, Fukuzawa had asked the driver to take them back to the apartment. He’d winced at the final price—maybe he could convince Natsume-sensei to reimburse him under ‘work related expenses’—and left the driver behind after paying.

Now, they were both back home and safe, the apartment silent compared to the crowds they’d been subjected to. Ranpo was curled up on the couch beside him, facing the back of it with a blanket covering his entire body in an attempt to hide. Every now and then, Ranpo’s body would tremble, and every time, Fukuzawa would run a hand through his hair, repeating his earlier words. It was all he could do in that moment, when only time would be able to heal the damage caused today.

But that was okay, Fukuzawa was a patient man, so he’d sit for as long as he was needed, until Ranpo felt better.

-----

How could I let this happen? Fukuzawa sighed, leaning back in the chair he’d been sitting in for several hours now, unwilling to move no matter how many doctors and nurses told him to take a walk, or go home to shower. He couldn’t, not when he’d be going home to an empty apartment, not when Ranpo was lying right there, on the bed in front of him, hooked up to various tubes and wires, unable to come home with him.

They’d been working with the local police force on a case; a serial killer that had been targeting young men and woman, beating, and torturing them until they grew tired and slit the victim’s wrist, watching as they bled out in front of them, watching the life leave their eyes in some sick twisted fantasy only the killer could understand. Fukuzawa had only seen the one corpse, the one that had been the reason why he and Ranpo had been called out in the first place, and the sight of the poor boy’s mutilated corpse had managed to rattle even his steel resolve, leaving him with a nauseous feeling. Even Ranpo had looked disturbed once he’d gazed upon the corpse, faltering on their approach. But that had only lasted a moment before he’d continued on, determination on his face, ready to solve this case.

And solve it he had. Ranpo, in a way that Fukuzawa had long since grown used to, spat facts and evidence at the officers that hadn’t even picked up on in their initial scan of the crime scene like the crime itself was being replayed in front of him. Even after all these years, Fukuzawa was always in awe of the way Ranpo solved cases, and this one was no different. With barely any effort, Ranpo had deduced the methods and motives of the killer, and from there, the identity of the killer.

That was all it should’ve been.

But it wasn’t.

The killer had been watching from the crowd that had formed, had been waiting for Ranpo to appear on the scene to enact his carefully cultivated plan of revenge. Because while Ranpo had been able to deduce the motives behind the deaths of the other victims, he had somehow missed the trap lying behind the trail of corpses. Fukuzawa had watched, unable to react fast enough, as Ranpo and walked over to an unsuspecting elderly woman and revealed her identity as the murderer the police were looking for. The woman had simply done nothing more than stare, before a manic grin appeared and shots were fired.

Somehow, somehow, they’d missed the signs of a second murderer, the woman’s daughter on the roof of the building.

The shots had caused everyone to look towards the sound, some officers already running towards the building with their own guns drawn.

The distraction had been long enough for the elderly woman to pull out a knife and by the time Fukuzawa had refocused on her, the damage had already been done.

He was never going to forget the sight of Ranpo choking on his own blood.

Fukuzawa hadn’t even thought, flying towards the woman, knocking her unconscious with a well-placed hit, leaving her for the police to deal with while he’d gone to Ranpo’s side, putting pressure on the worst injury he could see; a bullet wound to the chest. Ranpo had looked up at him with wide eyes, expression one of fear. For years, Fukuzawa had feared for such a day, where he wouldn’t be able to act fast enough to stop a killer from harming Ranpo. For years, Fukuzawa had done his best to protect the boy under his care, only failing sometimes—although they’d only ever been minor injuries that could be treated at home.

This was—

This was—

It was the stuff of nightmares. Fukuzawa had shed a lot of blood over the years, taken many lives himself, and failed to save just as many. But this was different. This was a boy he’d chosen to protect, chosen to bring into his life and care for as if he was his own, despite knowing nothing about parenting. And now that boy was bleeding out in front of him, gasping and choking for air his lungs were unable to take in. One of Ranpo’s bloodied hands and come to clutch at his sleeve, his eyes not leaving Fukuzawa’s own. He’d been speaking to Ranpo, reassuring him that everything would be fine, all the while keeping pressure.

The sirens fast approaching had been a blessing in disguise, and Fukuzawa would be eternally grateful to the bystander’s that had called the ambulance.

How could I let this happen?

He’s still just a boy.

I failed him.

Those were the thoughts that swirled throughout Fukuzawa’s mind as he rode with the paramedics to the hospital, and those were the thoughts that followed him as he waited in the waiting room while Ranpo was rushed off to surgery. And those same three thoughts continued to ravage his mind, even as a kind nurse had crouched before him and cleaned his hands of Ranpo’s blood, reassuring him that everything would be fine, and that Ranpo was in capable hands. Empty words; Fukuzawa would only believe that Ranpo would be fine when he saw him with his own two eyes.

Which was how he’d ended up sitting in a hard plastic chair for hours on end, watching over Ranpo whilst machines kept him alive. Fukuzawa had almost panicked when the doctor had told him that, but the doctor—amazingly, the same one that had treated Ranpo every time they came to the hospital—had reassured him many times that Ranpo had simply been placed into a medical coma in order to give his body time to heal from the injuries he’d sustained.

“It’s just for a few days. The surgery was rough on him, so we want to give him some time to heal first before letting him wake up.”

That was what the doctor had said before leaving Fukuzawa to his thoughts, and since then, Fukuzawa hadn’t moved. One of the nurses had been kind enough to bring Fukuzawa something to eat during the night, but he’d barely been able to stomach the simple meal, far too focused on the fact that Ranpo could’ve died—could still die. Fukuzawa sighed, leaning over so that he could rest his arms on the bed, one of his hands reaching over to cover one of Ranpo’s own, taking care to avoid jostling the IV in his hand. He allowed his head to rest on top of the covers and felt his eyes begin to close; there was no hope in him sleeping, but he could at least rest his eyes.

Just for a little while.

“Fukuzawa-san, are you sure you don’t want to go home, even just for an hour?” One of the nurses assigned to Ranpo’s care asked him as she flitted about the room, carefully checking on Ranpo’s healing wounds without so much as disturbing the boy.

“I’m fine here.” Fukuzawa said, watching her work. “It’s been—”

“Only three days.” The nurse interrupted him, giving Fukuzawa a kind smile, one that he was sure was effective in soothing her patients. “I know the waiting game is hard, Fukuzawa-san, but do your best to be patient. His injuries are healing well, and we were able to remove the intubation tube this morning. I’m certain Ranpo-san will wake up when he’s ready.”

What if he’s never ready to wake up? Fukuzawa couldn’t help but remember the way frightened, green eyes stared at him. It was the most frightened Fukuzawa had ever seen Ranpo look, and, well, what if Ranpo was too scared to wake up? What if his mind was somehow warning him that it wasn’t safe for him to wake up yet, and that was why he was still unconscious?

“Fukuzawa-san.” He looked up again, not having realized he’d dropped his head, into the nurses’ eyes. “Go home. Take a shower, and have something to eat. I’m about to go on break, so I can sit with him until you return.”

Despite every fibre of his being screaming at him to not leave, Fukuzawa gave a resigned nod, standing from the chair, ignoring the way the world swirled around him briefly from having been sat in the same position for so long. He really did not want to leave Ranpo alone, but he knew that if Ranpo woke up and found out he’d been neglecting his own health, the kid would give him a lecture.

“You always tell me to stop and take care of myself, so you need to do the same!”

“I’ll be back in an hour.” Fukuzawa promised as he left the room, Ranpo’s hypothetical words on his mind as he did so.

Another two days passed without Ranpo waking, and Fukuzawa had fallen into a routine with the night shift nurses. Before their shift would start, one of them would come and sit with Ranpo while he went home and took care of himself before returning to his post by Ranpo’s bedside where he would remain until the next night shift started. Despite the fact that the nurses had every authority to throw him out of the hospital once visiting hours were technically over, they never did; allowing him to sit vigil every night, for which he was grateful. It was better than the one night he’d gone home and fallen asleep when he’d sat on the couch; he’d been plagued by nightmares of being too late, and the sounds of choking, the smell of blood as pungent as if he’d been bathing in it.

He made sure not to fall asleep unless he was by Ranpo’s bedside since then, the boy’s presence enough to reassure his subconscious into giving him a dreamless sleep—if he slept at all, that is.

Ranpo’s injuries were healing slowly, but surely, according to the doctor that had visited that morning, and he’d been able to be moved to his own room instead of remaining in intensive care, no longer at risk of dying, not unless the world decided to be particularly vengeful towards a boy whose biggest fault was his addiction to sweets. The only thing they were waiting for, was for Ranpo to regain consciousness.

The doctor’s had told him that despite being unconscious, it was quite possible that Ranpo would be able to hear and feel things still; they’d said that comatose patients could often recall when visitors touched them, or spoken to them—not full memories, but partial ones—and that knowledge had been enough for Fukuzawa to bring a book back with him to read, along with the soft blanket from Ranpo’s bed. He’d worried they wouldn’t allow the blanket, but the nurse on duty had taken one look at it and helped him tuck it around Ranpo’s still form.

Right now, he was reading out loud, having pushed his chair next to the head of the bed so he could read quietly. One of his hands was resting in its usual spot atop of Ranpo’s own, a comforting presence that Ranpo could hopefully feel wherever he was. Fukuzawa wasn’t really paying attention to the book, his attention focused more on the beeping of the heart monitor and the rise and fall of Ranpo’s chest, but he did his best, keeping up a steady stream of words.

“Mmhm.” The sound was soft, but in the silence of the room, it may as well have been a gunshot, and Fukuzawa’s attention was no longer on the book, instead he stared at the boy in the bed, waiting, hoping, that what he’d heard hadn’t been a part of his imagination.

One eye cracked open, and Fukuzawa let out the breath he’d been holding upon seeing that brilliant green that he hadn’t seen in nearly a week. He kept quiet, staying calm, even as the eye drifted shut again, a soft sigh falling from Ranpo’s mouth. Fukuzawa felt tears form in his own eyes and fought to keep them falling. There would be time to shed tears later, but for now, he’d rejoice in the fact that Ranpo had woken up, albeit for not even minute.

The weight crushing his chest vanished.

It wasn’t until that evening, just as the doctor had done his usual check before going home, that Ranpo properly woke up. Because, of course he couldn’t wake up at a convenient time. The doctor had literally just left the room when Ranpo’s eyes—both of them this time—opened and fell to look at Fukuzawa. Fukuzawa had clasped Ranpo’s hand gently, giving it a squeeze as he called for the doctor. As the doctor scurried back into the room, Fukuzawa smiled at Ranpo.

“Welcome back.”

“Did you cry over me?” Ranpo asked as he shoved another spoonful of pudding into his mouth, gazing at Fukuzawa curiously, even though it came off more as if he was staring straight into Fukuzawa’s soul. It was rather daunting to be subjected to that gaze usually, but just for today, he welcomed it.

“I think anyone would cry when someone is bleeding out in front of them.” Fukuzawa said from his spot on the edge of the bed. After Ranpo had woken up and been examined by the doctor, the detective had claimed—demanded—he was hungry, so Fukuzawa had left the room to track down something simple for Ranpo to eat. He’d come back with a few tubs of pudding, and Ranpo had already eaten three of them while Fukuzawa watched in mild disgust. But considering all of Ranpo’s nutrients had had to be delivered via the IV in his hand, he kept his mouth shut and let the kid enjoy his pudding.

Ranpo was awake and talking, and that was more than Fukuzawa could ask for.

“Yeah well, I know that. But it’s you. You don’t cry.” Ranpo argued, pointing the spoon in his direction. “And I don’t remember what happened after I was shot, so tell me. Did you cry?”

Fukuzawa sighed. “Yes, Ranpo, I did cry. But only once I was alone in the waiting room wondering whether or not you were going to live or die.”

Ranpo nodded, satisfied, and then promptly changed the subject. “So, what happened to them?”

“To who?”

“To the murderers. You know, the ones that shot and stabbed me? I know shock makes you forget things, but surely you didn’t forget that much.” Ranpo said, and then proceeded to shove the rest of the pudding into his mouth, passing the empty cup back to Fukuzawa before taking the last cup and opening it.

“They were arrested of course. They have been charged for their crimes. After nearly killing you, they confessed pretty quick to everything.” Fukuzawa paused, debating on whether or not he should continue when Ranpo threw him an impatient look. “Their target was you all along.”

“Well, duh, I knew that.”

“Of course you did. But do enlighten me.”

“Well.” Ranpo paused to eat some more pudding. “Most of the killers and criminals we go after don’t tend to target me because I’m me, so when I saw the kind of people those two were killing, it didn’t take long for me to realize that they were targeting me. The old woman apparently had a son that killed himself when I revealed his crimes and she wasn’t very happy about that.”

“She can stay unhappy in jail.” Fukuzawa huffed, getting off the bed to throw away the empty cup in the bin before returning to Ranpo’s bedside.

“She won’t make it to jail.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

“She’s sick. Something incurable. I’d say she only had a few weeks left to live when she started killing. I dunno about the daughter though.” Ranpo finished explaining, tilting his head to the side. “I’m not quite sure what possessed her to help her mother kill people.”

“Sometimes, love for family can make people do stupid things.” Fukuzawa said, not all to certain himself what reasoning the daughter could’ve had. He was sure the police would figure it out though, so if he wanted to find out, he could just ask them at a later date.

“Ugh, sounds terrible. Why would you kill a bunch of people just because your parents asked you to? If you told me to kill someone, I’d just call the cops.” Ranpo scrunched up his nose at the idea.

Fukuzawa rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t plan on asking you to kill someone then. But I will ask you to behave nicely when the nurses come to give you a shower today, though. We don’t need a repeat of last night’s incident.”

Ranpo’s face flushed a brilliant scarlet at Fukuzawa’s words and he turned away from his guardian to stare at the wall. “It’s embarrassing. I don’t like it. And I don’t need their help in taking a shower.”

“You can’t even lift your arms above your chest.” Fukuzawa argued. He’d stepped out of the room while the nurses came to change Ranpo’s dressings the previous night, only to return to a commotion from the bathroom. A cry of pain from Ranpo had sent Fukuzawa running into the room, only to see exasperated nurses trying to pick Ranpo off the floor and put him back in the chair. Apparently, Ranpo hadn’t taken too kindly to their attempts to help him get clean, so he’d fought them, only to fall and nearly reopen his wounds. Once Fukuzawa’s heart had stopped trying to escape his chest, he’d told Ranpo to behave before leaving.

Ranpo had sulked the rest of the night, but at least he wasn’t a biohazard anymore.

“This is stupid.” Ranpo whined, leaning back against his mountain of pillows. “When can I go home?”

“When the doctor says you can.” Fukuzawa explained patiently, for what felt like the hundredth time. “This isn’t like that time you were sick, or when you broke your arm. You nearly died, so the doctors need to make sure everything’s fine before they send you home.”

“Ugh, but I’ve already been here, stuck in this bed for two—”

“Three. You were unconscious for a week.”

“—three weeks. I’m tired of being stuck in this room with nothing to do.”

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer. Just be patient.” Fukuzawa soothed.

“I have been.” Ranpo huffed, a sullen expression on his face. “I just want to go home.”

Fukuzawa reached over and ruffled Ranpo’s hair gently. “I know you do. How about I see if the nurses will let me take you outside for an hour or so today?”

And just like that, the sullen look was gone, replaced with a beaming smile that Fukuzawa was not immune to, as a smile grew on his own face. For the past two weeks, Ranpo had either been in pain, or too tired to engage with him, so to see an actual, genuine smile on his face was a relief to him; a sign that he was recovering from the injuries that had nearly claimed his life. It had been scary, watching Ranpo fight to live. The first week had been spent in a whirlwind of misery and ‘what ifs’ and the second and third weeks had been just as stressful, with Fukuzawa worrying about whether Ranpo was going to recover from his injuries or not.

But as the days passed, Ranpo grew stronger, and would continue to get stronger, until he regained the independence he’d lost upon being admitted into the hospital. It would take time, but no matter how long it took, he’d be there right by Ranpo’s side, supporting him in every way just as he had been since he’d adopted the boy.

Fukuzawa didn’t know what he’d have done if he’d had to bury Ranpo that day.

He hoped that such a day would never come.

No parent should have to bury their child after all.

#bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs fanfic #bsd #bsd fanfic #edogawa ranpo #fukuzawa yukichi #dadzawa #hurt/comfort #angst #found family #writing #fanfiction

[katebeckets]

my brain is finally awake! T, H, E and N 😉 as well as songs that start with numbers for the song game

but... what if?

T

I did these five but I'm gonna cheat and do five more hehe

Think of You — A Fine Frenzy

This Love — Taylor Swift

That Would Be Enough — Phillipa Soo & Lin-Manuel Miranda

Take Me or Leave Me — Idina Menzel & Tracie Thoms

Tim McGraw — Taylor Swift

H

okay i'm straight up ignoring the five LOL i'll do five musical ones and five songs i don't talk about as much

musicals

Holding to the Ground — Stephanie J. Block

The Hill — Cristin Milioti

Heart of Stone — Abby Mueller

Helpless — Phillipa Soo

Here I Go — Idina Menzel & James Snyder

other songs

Halcyon — BLÜ EYES (i lived there for 2.5 years so it was a fun discovery)

Hurricane — Fleurie

Hard to Sleep — Gracie Abrams

Hear You Me — Jimmy Eat World

hope ur ok — Olivia Rodrigo

okay there are so many more, apparently H is the letter

E

Eet — Regina Spektor

Everything Changes — Jessie Mueller, Keala Settle, & Kimiko Glenn

Elements — A Fine Frenzy

Enchanted — Taylor Swift

Evermore — Taylor Swift ft. Bon Iver

also i need to say Ex-Wives from Six

N

First five here, but here are five more just because hehe

No More Wishing — Hayley Taylor

Neverland — Laura Michelle Kelly & Matthew Morrison

Now is the Start — A Fine Frenzy

The Negative — Jessie Mueller, Keala Settle, & Kimiko Glenn

Nothing New — Taylor Swift ft. Phoebe Bridgers

Numbers

ooh I'm scared I'll miss one that starts with a written out number kfjd;a

21 — Gracie Abrams

1000 Times — Sara Bareilles

One Foot in Front of the Other — Griff

One Night Town — Ingrid Michaelson

One Song Glory — Adam Pascal

send me a letter and I’ll tell you my top 5 songs!

#this was fun! <3 #gracegordongreene #answered #some of these were soooo hard kjfad;fja #i didn't know so many good songs started with H #song recs