#Pew Environment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yaespook · 11 months

Text

Indulgence.

✧ Room Content: Dom! Top! GN! Incubus! Reader x Sub! Switch! Priest! Kaveh x Sub! Bottom! Incubus! Alhaitham, reader has a cock, mostly focused on Kaveh, threesome, sacrilegious themes (Catholicism), worshipping and blasphemy, inexperienced virgin Kaveh, Kaveh has religious guilt regarding masturbating/sex, Kaveh wears a clerical collar, handjob (reader receiving), frotting (Alhaitham with Kaveh), vague incubus powers (entering dreams and binding tattoos). Leave a note if anything was missed out. ✧ Retrieved Notes: [The head of the fortune cat appears on the front desk.]

It started out quite innocently in Kaveh’s mind really.

It was another early morning Sunday mass. The same old kind where it was mostly just grandparents attending, when the warm sunlight hasn’t quite fully peeked through the clouds yet. The lights in the church weren’t all on either because only the front few pews were occupied anyway, dousing the environment in a cold sort of blueish grey.

For Father Kaveh, the processes were all the same. The same parishioners, the same blue-greyness, the same prayers. It was always the same and it has always been for a while now.

But today was different. During his homily, he caught a glimpse of two unfamiliar faces sitting amongst the congregation in the wooden pews of the church. It’s hard not to notice such a charming presence intently listening in on the homily he had prepared in a crowd of churchgoers who looked half asleep.

(He would be lying if he said that the both of you weren't attractive too. Unfortunately, lying is definitely a sin. Hence, he simply admits it in his mind and files it away in a mental archive for… further reflection when he has the time. Ugh, it’d be better if that man next to you put down the book he was reading.)

If he injected a little more pep into his homily after you piqued his interest, then no one but God has to know.

However, he's later promptly caught off guard when the two of you were the first ones to approach him after mass for a chat. Kaveh’s never one to turn down an opportunity to get to know and welcome new parishioners so of course he enthusiastically grasped at the chance to talk to the both of you.

Sparing a subtle glance up and down, he drinks in the sight before him. You were both dressed impeccably, not a single hair out of place, sinfully glamourous. But Kaveh knows better than to ogle so he tears his gaze away and instead focuses on making conversation instead.

“A blessed morning to the both of you! I don't think I've ever seen you two in the early morning congregation before, I am Father Kaveh, the priest of this parish.”

He extends a hand for a handshake, first towards you, which you grasp firmly. When you make contact with him, Kaveh is slightly taken aback at the heightened warmth of your touch on his skin.

“Sorry, I’ve been told I run hotter than most, but it’s a pleasure to meet you, Father Kaveh,” your voice is smooth and pleasing to the ear, a shake snaking its way down his spine when you say your own name. Silently, he repeats your name in his mind, and he’s further charmed when you remark, “I’ve heard a lot about you, all good things, don’t worry, which is why Alhaitham and I came to see you.”

Kaveh’s head swivels to look over at the other, Alhaitham, and when he shakes his hand, he finds out that the both of you run rather hot. There’s a book held in his other hand, the one he was reading earlier during mass.

“Likewise, a pleasure to meet you,” Alhaitham says, levelling Kaveh with an unreadable stare, “We look forward to getting to know you more.”

At this, Kaveh beams, a cheery grin on his face, “As do I. If you ever need it, the mass timings are always in the weekly church bulletin, I hope to see the two of you more often.”

He excuses himself to chat with the other parishioners, bidding the two of you goodbye. However, even whilst talking to the others and hearing about their day-to-day troubles, and throughout the rest of the week, he finds his mind drifting back to the both of you. What makes you so memorable, so charming to him? Is it the way you carry yourself? Your voice? Or is it simply just, you?

He catches himself looking forward to the next mass where he might see you again, to spot your faces amidst the tired crowd, to converse again. And he does, every Sunday morning mass.

Kaveh sees you and Alhaitham sitting in the same pew every time you attend and it’s almost like clockwork whenever his eyes quickly dart over to the two of you when he’s addressing the congregation. And he firmly attests that you crack him a small smile when you catch him doing so, as if you knew he was going to glance over at that very second.

Over the weeks, he’s grown attached despite the warning bells scolding him not to at the back of his mind.

“Kaveh, get a hold of yourself, you’ve dedicated yourself to the church, this is no way to be thinking of your parishioners,” slapping his cheeks lightly, he tries to shake the thoughts of you out of his head but it seems like no matter what he does, you’ve managed to slither your way into his brain, where you now reside in 24/7.

Sighing, he says a prayer (one imploring for the strength to resist temptation) before he tucks himself into bed for a restful night.

Except, it’s anything but.

As soon as he succumbs to slumber, his eyes snap open at the sensation of a hand stroking through his hair. They adjust to the ceiling light in his room, strange, didn’t he turn them off before sleeping?

Blearily looking up, he sees the twin troubles plaguing him. But there’s no way the two of you are here, you don’t know the church grounds that well and there should be no reason for you to know which room he stays in either. It’s all improbable and that’s how he figures out that this is just some sort of fucked up lucid dream. (A small buried part of him deflates at this knowledge for some reason.)

“Hey Father Kaveh, sorry we couldn’t wait until the next Sunday, so we’ve come to see you early,” your words snap him out of his thoughts.

“Oh no, for you to infiltrate even my dreams, just how much am I thinking about the two of you?” Kaveh grumbles as his hand goes to rest over his eyes. He hears you chuckle before Alhaitham speaks next.

“So you think about us too?” The bed shifts and another hand joins in to roughly tussle his hair.

“Begrudgingly so, it’s as if you’ve consumed my every waking thought,” a weak sigh, “Maybe it’s a test from above, something meant to test me.”

“That’s rough, Father Kaveh, to be reduced to ‘something meant to test you’, after all these weeks,” you feign a watery tone, “Is that all you see us as?”

“No! Of course not!” He yells out, snapping to sit upright and grabbing your hands. As if he could ever see you as a burden to shoulder. You’ve been nothing but courteous and kind to him, a rare indulgence in his routine days and scheduled masses. Someone who actually consistently converses with him, asking about him, caring for him.

The bed shifts again, Alhaitham and you moving to sit in closer next to him, and you ask, “That’s a relief, then what do you see us as?”

Kaveh feels that familiar quiver snake its way down his spine, like all those weeks ago when it first started, the words caught in his throat as he scrambles to produce an appropriate yet truthful answer to your loaded question.

“I… I can’t lie,” his voice is shaky, trying to navigate the chaos in his mind for the right thing to say.

“It’s fine, you can tell us,” Alhaitham’s voice lulls.

Whatever. It’s a dream after all.

Kaveh sucks in a breath before blurting out, “My thoughts about the two of you have veered into more sinful territories-!”

A beat of silence passes and he buries his face into his hands, bright red all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“Such an honest priest we have here on our hands, anything else you want to confess, Father Kaveh?” Your tease makes him flush even more, intense embarrassment washing over him but it changes instantly when you turn his hand over and gently kiss the back of it.

Great, now his mind is making him dream of such situations?

His vision spins when he feels Alhaitham’s hands roam up his back, the heat permeating through his pyjamas as you lean in next to his ear, your breath on his exposed skin hot, hot, hot.

“I would give you your penance but it seems like we’ve run out of time, shame,” your tongue darts out to lick the shell of his ear and he shakes. You snap your fingers.

“Wake up.”

Kaveh snaps up, awake for real this time. The warm sunlight streams in through a window but he can’t find it in himself to enjoy such a wonderful morning when his mind is still reeling from such a depraved dream. He looks down. He’s hard.

No matter what he does, his usual morning prayers, an awfully cold shower, nothing helps to solve his problem. And he’s running out of time with the next scheduled mass coming up soon.

Biting his bottom lip, he experimentally presses his palm against his clothed cock, immediately rewarded with a rush of pleasure through his body. Repeating the action, he palms his erection, breath coming out in pants at the ramping buzz in him.

“Hah… Forgive m-me Father, for I- ah! -have sinned,” Kaveh blubbers out pitifully between breaths, praying as he tries to tear his mind away from the sin of his act.

He’s never… touched himself in such a way before, and to discover how terrifyingly addictive the bliss that he’s been holding himself back from experiencing all this time is, he feels his resolve crack.

Hurriedly, he shimmies his pants and underwear down, just enough for him to wrap his hand around his cock, revelling in the newness of the sensation. He starts with a light tug, aided by the amount of precum from his earlier palming, and the direct friction goes to muddy his brain. He resorts to biting down on his finger to muffle his noises lest anyone comes down the corridor.

Thoughts of you and Alhaitham flood his brain, the way his hands crept up his back, your tongue on his skin. Unconsciously, his hand speeds up its pace, slick sounds and stifled lewd moans filling the room the more he thinks about the two of you, the fantasies growing more and more unrestrained.

What would you think if you found out this is how your church’s priest spends his time? Would you berate him? Or would you indulge him? Maybe you’d teach him how to masturbate, your hand covering his own as you guide him on how to stroke your dick while Alhaitham steals kisses from him.

He thinks of your voice whispering lowly into his ear, frighteningly realistic, “We want you, Kaveh.”

Head thrown back, he feels the pressure building up to a peak in him, muscles draw taut as a blinding white-hot pleasure shoots through him, and he cums for the first time in his life ever, the forbidden fruit that he’s denied himself up till now.

Kaveh struggles to catch his breath after his high, desperately rutting into his hand to ride it out. After he does, he’s instantly filled with an indescribable guilt, rushing into the bathroom to wash off the evidence of his act, staring at his dishevelled appearance in the mirror.

How could he think of you in such a way? (How could he not?)

The next time he approaches the both of you after mass, he makes sure to do it after most of the crowd has already gone off, leaving the three of you alone. Avoiding your gazes, he starts.

“Apologies to keep the two of you waiting… some of the others had a lot to chat about,” a forced laugh, “But it is in my best interest that I should stop interacting so much with you both.”

You give him a quizzical look and Alhaitham quirks an eyebrow at his words, making him quickly tack on some reassurance, “It’s not the fault of either of you, worry not. And it would be too much for me to get into-”

“Certainly not,” Alhaitham cuts him off, his voice alluring, “It’s fine, you can tell us.”

Unable to stomach the thought of his relationship with you souring and ending on a bad note, he swallows down his fear and invites the two of you to his quarters to come clean about everything.

So, how is it that he’s found himself in this position?

It started out already rather lewdly in your mind.

Catching wind of a devout priest in town, loved by many, adored by most. Naturally, it was your job as an incubus to corrupt him. And they’ve assigned your lovely junior, Alhaitham, as your partner in sin.

The first meeting went well enough, charming Kaveh without the use of your powers, it seems as if he was as taken with you as you were with him. His lovely blond locks, his sweet voice, that downright sinful waist of his. How long would it take until he would snap and tumble into bed with the two of you so that you could defile him and show him the delectable paradise of ecstasy that he’s been abstaining from?

Over the weeks, you’ve teased Kaveh in the most minute of ways. Sly innuendos tossed in nonchalantly during conversations, lingering touches that you can see him secretly longing for. And perhaps you can’t say that Alhaitham and you aren’t unaffected by his charm too.

The impatience was driving the both of you wild, judging from how uncharacteristically antsy he’s been behaving. You’re no stranger to being intimate with him, indulging him when he gets particularly needy. And you can tell he’s pent up when he’s grinding on your thigh as he kisses you, so spoiled.

When you break apart, cupping his cheek, you ask, “Think our priest is asleep yet? How about we pay him a little visit?” Snapping your fingers, you transport the two of you into Kaveh’s dream, where you plant the final seeds of temptation and guide him down the blissful path of damnation.

The dream ended way too fast for your liking but it all worked out in the end, since now you’re here, in Kaveh’s room with him seated in your lap facing you.

Kaveh’s mind is spinning, unable to comprehend how fast all this is moving. First, he invites the two of you in to talk everything over in a more private location. Then, everything comes spilling out, his thoughts about you, even the sensual dream. His eyes are pinned to his hands clenched into fists in his lap, in fear that your gazes might be one of disgust towards him. It’s all too much, he’s backed himself into something too raw and too vulnerable and he can’t help when tears well up in his eyes, falling onto his hands.

A quick glance over to Alhaitham, and you pull Kaveh into your lap, an act to console him. Gently moving his head onto your shoulder for him to cry into, you shush him.

“Oh Father Kaveh, please don’t feel so guilty, after all, isn’t it natural to be tempted?” Patting the back of his head, you watch as Alhaitham rises from his seat and moves Kaveh’s long hair aside to brush his lips along the exposed skin of his nape.

“If holding it all in is causing you so much distress,” Alhaitham plants a kiss on Kaveh’s neck, “Perhaps giving in is the answer.”

“...No, I can’t,” Kaveh weeps, yet there’s a hesitation in his voice, as if he’s not fully convinced that he should turn away from the pleasure that you two can bring him.

“No one has to know,” your hands cup the sides of his face and move him so that you can look into his eyes, the sincerity behind them startling him when you say, “We want you, Kaveh.”

The world seems to stop when you say those words, his heart soaring and in the split second, his resistance slips away. He abandons it all for you, for a longing reciprocated, for a tangible love, and he presses his lips onto yours.

He whines into the kiss when you take charge, your tongue swiping against his bottom lip and he gasps. When you enter his mouth, your saliva mixing with his, his breath hitches as his desire suddenly heightens tenfold. You can feel him getting hard in your lap, ever so slightly grinding down without even realising it.

“Will you let us take you apart? Allow us to worship and love you like you deserve? To open your eyes to the true salvation of human pleasure?”

Kaveh’s drowning in your words, the blessing that the two of you are gracing him with, leaving him bare and naked in his longing.

“Please.”

Soon, you have the blond seated on the edge of his bed and stripped of all his clothing, except for his white clerical collar, which still lays clasped loosely around his neck.

“Look at you Father Kaveh, perhaps mankind was indeed made in God’s image,” you watch on from above him as Alhaitham laves a tongue over Kaveh’s clavicle, “If not, how else would you look so divine?”

He flushes crimson at your praise, bashful at how unaffected you are in this scenario. You move and sit next to him on the bed, unzipping your pants as he watches on with bated breath.

“From your mouth to God’s ear, Father Kaveh, your fantasies have been heard and they’ll be fulfilled today.”

Like him, you’re already hard, precum beading at your tip. Your hand goes to grab his, bringing it over and wrapping it around your shaft. Covering his hand with yours, you entertain his desires, cooing as you slowly start to move his hand, pumping your cock at a steady pace while you savour the sensation of his hand.

Kaveh’s eyes are glued to the sight of you guiding his hand up and down on your length, the warmth of your hand over his own. He’s enraptured until he feels fingers under his chin, tilting his head up and suddenly he’s locking lips with Alhaitham. When he realises that the two of you are actually recreating the scene from his imagination, his mind is left reeling.

He moans into the kiss with Alhaitham when he feels you throb in his hand, more pre dribbling from your tip.

“You’re so good, Father Kaveh, always so kind, so understanding, hmm?” Your praise gets him so worked up, his hips uselessly rutting up against nothing but something settles onto his lap and presses against his own cock. Cracking his eyes open, he realises that Alhaitham has slotted himself into his space, and breaking away from the kiss so that Kaveh can breathe, he frots his erect hard-on against Kaveh’s.

“Maybe this way I’ll keep your attention on me too,” the grey haired male says, hands going to rest at Kaveh’s hip to steady himself as he ruts.

He can feel his legs shaking as that daunting pressure starts to build inside of him again like before. The pacing of his strokes under your hand begins to falter as he chases after his high, grinding more and more frantically against the man in his lap.

But just as he’s seconds away from reaching his orgasm, Alhaitham clambers out of Kaveh’s space, at the same time, you remove his hand from your body

The sudden detachment brings him back down from his almost peak, his mind clearing up just enough for him to whine out, “Wh- What was that for?”

“We’re saving the best for last, Father Kaveh,” you say as the two of you manhandle his pliant body into position.

Alhaitham’s beneath him, hands gripping the headboard as he lays on his back, facing upwards. Alternatively, Kaveh’s on all fours on the bed, hands and knees on either side of Alhaitham with you standing at the foot of his bed, hands firmly gripping onto his hips.

“Are you ready to take us into your heart, to accept us for all that we are,” and you all but purr his name, “Kaveh?”

“Yes. Yes, please,” he begs, desperation akin to a sinner’s prayer.

“Such a lovely obedient lamb, truly the best one in the flock. I’d say you should finally get a reward for such excellent behaviour,” He gulps at your words, the praise you’re showering him in muddling his thoughts as he anticipates whatever the two of you have planned for him.

Goosebumps rise on his skin when you trace a blunt nail up his spine. However, the breath is punched from his chest when he looks back down at Alhaitham, pointed horns crowning his head, emerging from his mop of grey hair. His head snaps to look at you over his shoulder where he sees a similar sight. Coiled horns like a ram’s adorn you, leathery unfurled wings, and a long slender tail that’s tipped with a heart at the end.

“My dearest lamb, I ask you once more. Do you take us into your being, to love us for what we are,” your voice takes on a sultry tone, dripping with sinful indulgence, “To let us defile you?”

His head bowed, he dutifully replies, “I offer all of myself up to you.”

And with this, you partake in the feast of him.

Coating your fingers in your thick aphrodisiacal spit, you rest one hand on his ass, spreading him apart as you prod at his rim.

“Relax for me, Father Kaveh, you’re in good hands and we’ll never lead you astray.” You hear him release the breath he’s holding and he untenses, allowing you to slip a finger into him.

“Ah-!” The sensation is unfamiliar but not unwelcome, the stretch gradually turning into a growing pleasure thanks to its aphrodisiac qualities, slowly getting used to the feeling of being filled as you prepare him to take you.

A finger loops through his clerical collar and pulls him down. Looks like Alhaitham’s had enough of being ignored. He kisses him like a man starved, teeth clacking noisily as he drinks in Kaveh’s moans.

Taking this opportunity to slip in another finger, your other hand goes to grip his waist, steadying him as he loses himself to the mounting delectation. Scissoring your fingers, it proves to be too much for the inexperienced Kaveh and his legs give out from beneath him, pressing him against Alhaitham’s body.

“Haitham, did you prep yourself beforehand?” He nods briskly at your question. Lowering yourself down so you’re bearing down on Kaveh, you lick the shell of his ear, (he shivers), and ask.

“Do you think Haitham can take you? He’s been waiting for you for so long, he’s even prepared himself for you.”

Between dazed blinks, Kaveh manages to process your words, nodding his head and muttering out a dumb, “Uh- Uh huh.”

With this, Alhaitham lines his hole up with Kaveh’s drooling cock, and with you pushing down on his hips from above him, Kaveh’s head pushes past Alhaitham rim, a guttural growl leaving your junior’s lips at the sensation of Kaveh sinking into him with your guidance.

“M-Move please…!” Alhaitham groans out when Kaveh doesn’t seem to do anything when he bottoms out inside of him. The lewd heat that surrounds his length overloads his mind, bliss coursing through every vein in his body.

The erotic sight of your two sweethearts under you, the one who’s supposed to be the incubus pleading for sweet salvation from the once-pure, clueless lamb laying above him who’s finally had a taste of the forbidden fruit. Both of them dewy-eyed and left greedily wanting more. It’s easily all too tempting.

You remove your fingers from Kaveh with a wet shlick! before replacing it with your tip at his entrance. As you push into him, the pressure causes him to reach deeper into Alhaitham, resulting in a lascivious harmony of wanton moans in the room.

And when your tip brushes past his prostate for the first time, he can’t help but mewl, “O-Oh God!”

“Rude to call out someone else’s name when- ugh! -you have two incubi pleasuring you right here, Father Kaveh!” Punctuating this with a sharp thrust, you wring a drawn-out cry from Kaveh.

“S-Sorry! For- hng!! -forgive me!” Pitifully sobbing out, he rocks his hips clumsily back against yours, urging you to fully sheathe yourself in him. With his motions, Alhaitham finally gets the stimulation he’s yearned for, as Kaveh moves in time with your thrusts.

Your tail wraps itself around Kaveh’s thigh when you encircle your hands around his slim waist.

“I’ll fuck you so good that you’ll be worshipping me when I’m done with you.”

Pulling out until just your tip is left in him, you position your mouth at his shoulder and when you bite down on his pristine untainted skin, it’s the only warning he gets before you sink your length back into him, all the way down to the hilt.

You’ve left your mark on him, marred him, sullied him, defiled him for all of eternity in the eyes of the church. But Kaveh can’t find it in himself to care, too fucked out from the carnal pleasures he’s wrapped up in right now. The way you pound into him, the way Haitham’s walls squeeze down on him. Who is he to say that this isn’t heaven on earth? Who is he to say that this is damnation?

Perhaps he’s found his God in you.

“Hah! God, please! I’m close- ah! -so so close!” He’s delirious and Alhaitham swears he can almost see the hearts in Kaveh’s eyes.

“Calling me your god now, Father Kaveh?”

“Yesss! Please, I’m s-so close, let me- hng! -finish, God, I beg of you!” Kaveh quivers under you as both him and Alhaitham approach their climax. Their breaths come out in ragged pants as you speed up your pace, also chasing your own peak.

“Then take all I give unto you, Kaveh,” you bury yourself as deep as possible as his walls clamp down on you, his head thrown back in ecstasy as the three of you cum together. The searing rapture rips through him as you fill him up, eyes wrenched shut with him seeing stars behind his eyelids. His lower abdomen feels hot as he cums into Alhaitham, whose eyes have rolled back into his sockets, breath hitching at his orgasm.

You complete it with short shallow thrusts, helping the both of them through the fading waves of pleasure, wringing out the last of their debauched noises. When you pull out of Kaveh, a raspy whine rips from him. Manoeuvring his spent body to lie on his back, you’re pleased to see that the session took, evident from the glowing fuchsia tattoo on his lower abdomen.

Pressing a kiss against it, Kaveh shakes at the increased stimulation. Curious, he peers down at it, ghosting his fingers over it as he watches the tattoo’s glow intensity slowly fade and settle into a faint pink outline.

“The three of us have been unified, we’re bound together now, my dearest lamb.”

Alhaitham lazily rolls over to leave a kiss on Kaveh’s cheek before you pull him in by his clerical collar for a chaste kiss on the edge of his lips.

And suddenly, his Sunday mornings don’t seem so dull anymore.

[> You add a clerical collar to your collection.]

Thank you kindly for reading. Consider supporting on kofi if you enjoyed this or visit the other doors.

#📜.Shapeshifting Hallways #📜.qi writings #📜.qi musings #genshin x reader #genshin smut #sub genshin #kaveh x reader #kaveh smut #sub kaveh #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #sub alhaitham #dom reader #top reader #kinktober #incubus smut

860 notes · View notes

eddieandbird · 1 month

Text

Dream Girl—

Sequel to How Romantic. Eddie and you took the rest of Corroded Coffin to brunch to talk about your wedding night. [part 3]

a/n: thank you to everyone who requested a second part to this! tags are in the comments- bird

tags/warnings: fluff w/ slight angst | 3.1k words | f!reader | rockstar!Eddie

———

“With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride,” The officiant’s voice was distorted and flashes of darkness stuttered in your vision.

“Come here, baby,” Eddie pulled you by the hips, and in a blur of colors, you felt him dip your body down. His hands were firm, cradling your head in one hand and your waist wrapped in the other. The last thing you saw was Eddie’s half-opened eyes and dark tendrils hovering over you before he kissed you.

You could hear a boisterous chorus of cheers behind you. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you tried to follow along with the rapid movements of his lips. When you were lifted back to open your eyes, you saw Jeff and Gareth out in the pews still cheering and repeating Eddie’s name like he just won a high school football game.

Suddenly you were brought back into the present with Eddie squeezing your thigh tight.

“Hey. You alright?” Eddie asked quietly.

You swung your head around, taking note of your current environment. You were sat outside at a cafe with the rest of Corroded Coffin’s band members.

“Yeah, I’m just a bit tired,” You lied, offering him a weak smile to keep up appearances for Gareth and Jeff.

Eddie worried about you. He noticed that you seemed uncharacteristically spaced out, almost dazed since you both had met up with the band. He watched you plaster on a convincing smile as you reassured him. He didn’t quite believe it, but he didn’t want to push the topic in front of the others.

Gareth leaned over to the two of you, a wide smile on his face. “So last night got pretty wild, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” You said in a slightly mocking tone.

You pouted and shoved a few bites of scrambled eggs in your mouth. “Do you guys remember what happened or were you too far gone like me and idiot Munson over here?”

Eddie leaned in, raising a finger, about to protest but you jokingly made kissy faces at him to get him to shut up before mumbling “Don’t start, darling, I wanna hear the other guys talk first,” You shook your head.

Your eyes flicked between two other members, waiting for someone to speak. Eddie rolled his eyes at your playful jab. Gareth and Jeff exchanged a look across the table, both of them grinning from ear to ear.

"Dude, last night was epic," Gareth said between laughter. "You guys were out of your minds, all over each other-"

Jeff interjected, his voice full of excitement. "And then you both stumbled into that chapel and bam! You guys got hitched!"

You held your head in your hands with a louder scoff.

“Neither of you thought ‘Hm, that’s our lead guitarist and our manager at the altar, let’s stop them from randomly getting married’?” You realized your voice raised a bit and you almost instantly gave them a wave as a gesture to apologize.

“Hey, leave the guys alone, this was our fault,” Eddie’s voice was strained in attempt to not yell at you. The look in his eye was trying to tell you to stop revealing details about your plan before the guys catch a whiff of it. You reluctantly obliged.

“You’re right. I’m sorry I just— I’m just still a bit shocked I guess. We did a big thing last night,” You sighed before taking a long sip of your orange juice.

Both Jeff and Gareth's grins faded slightly as you spoke. They could tell that you were stressed and overwhelmed with how the night's events had turned out, so they decided against making any more jokes.

Jeff reached across the table to pat your hand comfortingly. "Hey, don't worry about it. We get it, this was a wild night for all of us."

Gareth nodded in agreement, "Yeah, and hey, with how long Eddie's had his eye on you, this wasn't that surprising."

You lifted your head like a dog who heard a whistle in the distance. Gareth’s comment was ringing in your ears. You turned to look at Eddie in an almost robotic manner. Your glare was sharp enough to stab him with a sugary grin that didn’t match at all.

“Eddie, what are they talking about?” You asked, your eye was borderline twitching.

Eddie bobbed his head and wiggled his hand, in an attempt to downplay what was just said. “They’re obviously exaggerating, baby,”

He casually chuckled then pushed your hair behind your ear. His hand was on the back of your neck and he pulled you close to obscure his face from the rest of the table.

“Let’s not tell these blabbermouths it’s all a ruse just yet, yeah? They’ll blow our cover way too quickly. Just go with it,” Eddie whispered to you.

You could feel the heat of your anger rising up to your ears, but on your face, you remained stoic. The whole point of brunch was supposed to be telling the band about your situation, but Eddie didn’t seem interested in letting Jeff or Gareth in on the plan. Now with Gareth’s innocent slip of information, you were beginning to understand why. You mimicked Eddie’s grip on his own thigh, digging your nails into the denim of his jeans.

“You three are so funny,” You flashed another false smile to the table before sitting back in your seat with your arms folded.

Eddie could sense your frustration, but he knew that he needed to sell the illusion of a happy couple. He managed to brush your lips with a kiss which you had little response to. Jeff and Gareth exchanged a quick look after you sat back in your seat, both of them raising their eyebrows at each other in confusion.

"Uh... So-" Jeff started, but Gareth spoke up before he could continue.

"Are we missing something here?" Gareth asked cautiously, his gaze darting back and forth between you and Eddie.

“No! No, nope,” You interjected before the other men could speak. “As you probably know, I’ve been very… private about my relationship with Eddie considering I’m your guys’ band manager and all that. Almost like it wasn’t even a thing before last night,”

He subtly elbowed your arm, giving yet another reminder to reel it in.

“I just can’t believe everything is coming to light now. It’s overwhelming. We’re finally married and it’s… awesome,”

You mustered the best look of excitement you could as you stabbed away at your meal with a fork. Eddie couldn’t imagine how vexing it was to hear that he could’ve possibly had feelings for you way before this whole accidental wedding fiasco happened.

“I know. I am so happy. How about you, babe?” Eddie pressed a kiss to your cheek and you reluctantly returned it with another fake grin.

“The absolute happiest,” You said, knowing damn well you’d be scolding him the next time you were both alone.

Eddie could feel the tension radiating off of you, but he kept his hand firmly placed on you under the table. Jeff and Gareth glanced at each other again, both of them confused by your unusually nervous demeanor.

"Uh... Well, congrats you two," Gareth said tentatively, his eyes darting from your face to Eddie's hand on your leg.

"Yeah, it's about time!" Jeff chimed in, his enthusiasm not exactly matching his bandmates'.

You nodded silently for a moment, reigning in your emotions that were very close to spilling out. “We appreciate your guys’ support, we really do. But, I think it’s about time we go back up and pack our things, yeah? We gotta be in Salt Lake City tomorrow night. C’mon, Mr. Munson,”

A loud creak rang out as you stood up and pushed out your chair. You held out your hand for Eddie. Another smile hid just how confused and irritated you were with the mop-headed boy. He let out a breath and pushed back his chair to stand up next to you. He took your hand in his and squeezed it. Jeff and Gareth watched the two of you as you prepared to leave, both of them slightly concerned by your hurried demeanor.

"Uh... yeah, alright. See you guys later," Eddie said to them, still attached to your arm.

The guys nodded, their eyes still fixed on the pair of you as you hurried towards the exit.

Your footsteps were quick, Eddie was barely keeping up and you couldn't care less. You needed answers and couldn’t wait another moment for them.

“Hey, hey! Slow down, would ya? I’m not as fit as I look-”

“I can’t believe you,” You interrupted as you dragged him inside the elevator, pounding the buttons like it would take you up to your room quicker.

“What are you talking about?” He gave a pinched expression. You couldn’t tell if he was faking it or if he was genuinely lost once again.

“Please don’t make me feel crazy, you know what I’m talking about,” You begged, continuing your strides to the room.

Eddie followed closely behind, quickly matching your steps despite his earlier comment. He tried to pretend clueless, but he knew there was no point. As soon as your hotel room door slammed shut behind you, he let out a long sigh. He ran his hand through his hair anxiously as he struggled to find the right words to say.

“Okay. What do you want me to say?” he finally mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

You scoffed and scrubbed your face in your hands. "Jeff and Gareth basically said you've had a thing for me for ages. You didn't even deny it. You want to start telling me about that?”

Eddie’s mouth kept opening and closing his mouth, but he said a whole lot of nothing. It bothered you the way his eyes floated all over the hotel room skipping over your face, but you knew better than to expect him to talk to you in this state. You had to have a softer approach. You caught his chin and pinched it between your index finger and thumb, positioning him to look at you.

You closed your eyes and brought your heart rate and breathing back down to a normal pace before speaking again. “I’m sorry. I won’t be mad, it’s just… in order for this whole thing to work, I really need to know the truth,” You let him go, allowing him the space to confess.

Eddie’s face flushed slightly, a mix of guilt and embarrassment. He couldn’t deny it any longer. He swallowed hard as he gazed down at the floor, unable to look at you.

“It’s true,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve had my eye on you for a while now, I didn’t know how to approach you with it. You’re always so good at keeping your feelings inside and- and I just-” He trailed off, struggling to find the right words to say.

That was not what you wanted to hear. A big part of you felt betrayed by Eddie. You stepped away from him, taking in his whole frame as you watched him in shock. Your promise of not being upset had been completely thrown out the window.

“So, what, you decided you’d trap me into a marriage because you have a crush on me?” You said with little breath behind your words.

“Hey, no, don’t do that. That is totally not what happened here,” Eddie’s breath was shooting harshly from his nostrils as he pointed down to the floor. “Last night was an accident and you know that,”

He paced the room for a moment, scratching at his dark curls before continuing his rant. “And it’s not like you would’ve given me a chance anyway. You’re always so busy buzzing around the band and worried about being ‘professional’. You would’ve turned me down instantly if I told you how I felt,”

Eddie’s face fell, his stupidly charming smirk was now replaced with a deep-set frown. He was a tornado of hurt that spun around you and it crushed you. Your chest ached and you were softening at the confession of his reservations.

“You don’t know that,” You muttered. You weren’t even sure if it was true, but you shook your head to further your statement.

Eddie let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, please. You would’ve laughed in my face if I told you I had feelings for you. You keep everyone at arm’s length, especially when it comes to romance. You always say relationships are a waste of time. How am I supposed to believe that you would’ve given me a chance if I did things differently?” He continued pacing the room, his voice growing more and more frustrated.

“You always put up this tough act like everything’s fine like you’ve got everything under control, but deep down, I know that’s not true. You’re scared to let anyone in,”

“That’s not it, you know it’s not true-” Panic was coming up on you as you saw Eddie waiting for you to continue. You waved your hands at your eyes, trying to suck up your tears. You needed to gather yourself quickly. “Eddie, you’re the closest person to me. You’re my best friend,”

No matter how hard you denied it, he was right. You had walls up that refused to let down. You decided a long time ago that’s what you needed to do to keep yourself from getting hurt, but Eddie was a bulldozer to all your apprehensions. His childish humor, his fearlessness, and his ability to light up any room was special to you. You didn’t want to ever lose that.

Eddie stepped closer to you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

"But that's exactly my point," he said, his voice softened. "You're comfortable with me as your friend, you trust me, but you’d shut down the idea of anything more. You don't want to risk losing what you have."

He gently pulled you a bit closer to him, determined to make you understand where he was coming from. Words bubbled up from your stomach, threatening to come out of you like a shaken soda can. What were you even supposed to say when he was staring at you with those giant golden brown eyes? You gulped before attempting to speak once more.

“What do you even see in me? Why do you want to be with me? I don’t exactly think I fit the description of your ‘dream girl’,” You asked the burning questions to further avoid your feelings.

Eddie rolled his eyes at your questioning. "Dream girl?" he repeated, shaking his head as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

He leaned closer, his breath gently caressing your face. "You could never be just a dream girl... You're the real thing, better than anything a dream could conjure up. Tough as nails, smart as hell, a badass through and through."

His hands moved to rest on your hips and he pulled you even closer. He could still see the gears turning in your head. You were still having a tough battle inside of yourself. He let out a sigh and hung his head before you. He was getting tired of all the bickering. He wanted to get back to the part where you two were on each other’s side again.

“I know it’s a lot. I’m also wrapping my head around it, but I’m giving you what you want, right? I’m putting all my cards out on the table, but that doesn’t mean I’m trying to make you feel anything you don’t. I’m sure you already feel like I’ve forced you into enough for one Vegas trip,” He chuckled ironically, scratching at the side of his neck.

And with that small gesture, you could feel the bricks of your walls starting to chip away. Upon first meeting Eddie, anyone could easily brush him off as someone who was too odd for his own good. Not you. You saw Eddie the way he wanted to be seen. You were impressed with his talents, you were amused by his jokes. Though you were blunt and closed off, you were not judgemental. That’s one of the things Eddie liked the most about you.

“Hey,” you lifted his chin to look at you once more. “What happened to this being both our faults?” You gave a quiet, breathy laugh.

Eddie chuckled along with you, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Technically, it is," he agreed, a teasing grin playing on his lips. "But I'm the one who decided to get married on a whim, remember? I don't think you had much say in that."

He moved even closer, his arms now wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. The tension and frustration between you seemed to melt away, replaced by that familiar easy banter. You gave your infamous shrug, but this time it was paired with a wiggling smile on your lips as you pushed the hair out of his eyes.

“You’re right. You should know better that I can’t fight off a guy who’s a full foot taller than me hauling me down the aisle, but I was the one who followed you into that chapel last night,”

A grin spread across Eddie's face as you spoke. The tension in his shoulders dissipated slightly, replaced with a sense of relief.

"Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, I couldn’t resist getting into the whole ‘kicked puppy’ act," He paused to hear you join him in laughter. "So we’re on the same page, then? You forgive this idiot?"

You jumped up an inch from the floor to get your arms over his head to pull him into a hug.

“Of course, I do, idiot,” Your laugh was muffled by his shoulder. “I’m sorry for all this stupid arguing. Of course, we’re on the same page,”

You definitely weren’t good with stuff like this, but you hoped you could assure him even in the slightest. You felt he deserved it more than anything.

“But to be on the same page, we really need to agree on what we tell people and who we’re telling things to. We’re in this together. Deal?” You flipped back into a stern tone, a hint of playfulness in your grin.

Eddie's grin widened at your words and the way you jumped into his arms, wrapping him tightly in a hug. He let out a content sigh as he returned the embrace, burying his face in your tousled hair.

"Deal," he agreed, nodding his head against the crook of your neck. "We'll get our story straight before talking to anyone else."

He couldn't help but chuckle at your quick transition back to your all-business tone. "You know you're cute when you get all serious, right?"

“Shut up!”

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fluff

299 notes · View notes

sunflowersandsapphires · 1 month

Text

In His Element

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: After watching Matt cross examine a witness, your patience is worn thin, leaving you to plead with the devil.

warnings: SMUT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. fingering, brief masturbation, descriptions of fem genitalia, dom!Matt's filthy mind, and also him being so attractive

a/n: THIS IS MY FIRST EVER SMUT THAT WASN'T GHOST WRITTEN SO IT MIGHT NOT BE GREAT. I am going to keep practicing for y'all though! As always, please comment/reblog and leave me feedback if you desire :)

w/c: 3.5k

With clammy fingers, you smoothed your wrinkled skirt until it lay flat over your knees, crossing your ankles under the pew you were seated in. In your haste to find a seat before the trial resumed, you’d landed directly below an A/C vent, which was blowing a harsh current over you. The hair along your limbs stood on end, your heart pumping your blood in smaller loops, leaving your extremities to slowly wither. It should’ve been uncomfortable, but you were far too focused on the heat churning in your gut as your eyes followed your partner’s pacing form.

Hands stacked loosely over the handle of his cane, Matt’s head tilted slightly as he prepared to ask the prosecution’s witness a question. He was facing away from you, but you could imagine the exact emotionless-yet-somehow-haughty expression that graced his face. It was one of the attributes of your boyfriend’s stoic appearance that emerged behind the courtroom doors that you found mind-numbingly attractive.

“Officer Bauer,” Matt’s voice sent a shudder down your spine. Though the man wore a literal mask most nights, he had a variety of metaphorical personality-masks that suited various environments—his everyday polite demeanor, the protective and concerned boyfriend that always surfaced whenever you were threatened or hurt, and, notably, the serious, calculating attorney persona he adopted during his trials.

Biting your tongue to freeze your body in place, you inhaled slowly, trying not to draw attention to yourself. A quick glance to the jury confirmed that you were not the only one entranced by the dark-haired man as he strode back and forth, a few feet in front of the witness stand. He had you all captivated.

Shifting his weight to his heels, Matt was angled enough that you could see the innocent smile he directed at the man sweating on the stand. “Can you tell me what you were doing at the corner of 52nd and 8th on the afternoon of Thursday, March 6th?”

A simple question, innocuous enough that the callous man he was questioning let out an indignant scoff as he answered. ”Patrolling.“

You rolled your eyes at his single word response, his disdain for the judicial process evident in his slouched posture and bored tone. He was practically falling asleep in the worn leather chair, his half-lidded eyes trained on Matt like a dazed serpent. The man looked foul and, from the little that Matt had told you, his personality matched.

Despite the apathetic participant he was dealing with, Matt remained calm and composed. His smile widened marginally, revealing a flash of his pristine teeth as he huffed in amusement.

"Of course. And when you were on patrol you noticed the defendant amongst a group of young adults. Is that correct?"

Your chest was convulsing as your heart pounded from your rib cage. Matt was exceptionally intelligent and had explained his tactic for cross-examining this inattentive cop, but that didn't make it any less suspenseful as you watched his game of cat and mouse play out before your very eyes.

The officer's slitted eyes wandered to the ceiling as he sighed. "Yeah."

"Can you describe the group to me?" Matt lifted his shoulders as he posed the question, not quite shrugging, but definitely indicating that, while he believed the leathery-skinned witness had not yet satisfied his curiosity.

“Buncha kids. Messin around.” Four words rather than one. That was progress, right? Akin to the marble rolling down a track at the beginning of a complex Rube Goldberg machine. The task was far from accomplished, but there was motion somewhere within the structure.

“And, as your partner stated earlier, most of the kids were white, is that correct?” The first hint of something substantial. You pressed your lips together, holding in a smile as your mind started to piece together the rocky, cobblestone path your boyfriend was laying for his uncooperative witness.

“Yes.”

“What encouraged you and your partner to approach the defendant and other students in the park?” Tone laced with what sounded like genuine curiosity, Matt raised a brow at the arresting officer. His ability to color his voice in a way that would appeal to the jury never ceased to amaze you.

“We got news of a nearby break in, and they were actin' suspicious.”

At this point, you were pretty much tuning the lazy cop out—waiting for Matt to open his mouth again, to speak in the beautifully deep, almost hoarse way he always did when defending his clients. His words were direct, controlled in the same manner his general conduct was, his anger and need for justice hidden behind an expressionless facade.

It was intoxicating, his ability to hold back. Almost as divine as his ability to let go.

“Can you describe these suspicious activities for the court?”

Fidgeting with a loose thread on the hem of your skirt, you let Matt's voice drape over you like a wool blanket on a winter night. Comforting, warm, and a tad prickly. Only ears as finely tuned to the man's peculiarities could pick up the barbed edge of his questioning—thousands of serrated teeth waiting to ensnare the animal as soon as it was within their grasp. Knowing how talented your partner was in his field, that moment wasn't far away.

The chair creaked as the cop shifted with a hefty shrug. “Ya know, talkin' all low to each other, shovin' things in their bags while lookin' over their shoulder...” He trailed off, mashing a fist against his nose with an awful throat clearing sound.

“And, while on your patrol, you noticed the group acting this way.” More of a statement than a question. Matt was closing in.

“Yea, that’s what I just said.” The cop snorted, completely unaware of the brutal fate that awaited him.

“So you and your partner decided to intervene?” Matt reasoned aloud. He was pacing again. Your attention had been solely on his voice, not his footsteps.

“Course that’s our job.” The ignorant man to the right of the judge shifted again in his seat, his frustration visibly growing as Matt continued to hurl benign and repetitive questions at him.

“And when you exited your vehicle, what happened?” Matt asked.

“They took off.” Bauer answered, irritated.

“On foot?” Matt clarified.

“Yes.” The witness rubbed forcefully at the bridge of his nose again.

“And it’s true that my client left with them?” Gesturing softly to the young woman seated at the defense's table to indicate to the room who his client was, in case they needed a reminder.

“Yes.” Bauer confirmed.

“So the entire group dispersed on foot?” Matt asked with an air of confusion. His rumbling baritone lifting on the tail end to indicate his dismay.

“Yep.” Bauer grit his teeth, tiring quickly as Matt persisted.

“At the same time?” Matt asked with the same bewildered look on his face.

“Yes.” His witness growled.

“The same group that was acting in a suspicious manner?” Matt questioned.

“Yes. I just said that.” Voice raising, you could see Bauer's face getting redder by the second.

“Then can you tell me, Officer Bauer, why you and your partner BOTH decided to pursue my client?”

Bauer's eyes flashed with something similar to understanding, his mouth remaining clamped shut as Matt stepped closer, closing in on his prey.

“You’ve previously reported and just now confirmed that the entire group left when they noticed you approaching. Yet you and your partner both were solely focused on my client rather than any of the other members of the group. Tell me, officer, is that because of her race?” Matt's words flew out of his mouth rapidly, a string of poorly concealed accusations within them.

You barely had time to appreciate Matt's ingenuity before the lead prosecutor bolted out of her seat. "Objection, Your Honor, that is clearly leading."

"Sustained. Counselor?" The judge glanced at Matt for his next move.

Holding up a hand, Matt didn't miss a beat. “I’ll rephrase. Officer, what reason did you have for pursuing my client rather than any of the other students?”

"Well, she was acting weird," Bauer stammered, his eyes bulging with fear. He'd spotted the threat then.

“In the same manner as the rest of the group, as you previously stated, all of whom you approached with your partner. Yet both of you ran after my client.”

“Yes.” Nodding cautiously, Bauer's voice was suddenly small.

“And, besides her race, can you give any other reason she stood out to you as more suspicious than the rest of the group?”

“Objection, leading.” The prosecution called out, her voice a bit shrill with desperation.

"Overruled. Mr. Murdock, please continue with your line of questioning." The judge's gaze flitted between the prosecutor and the witness who was now sweating profusely on the stand.

“Thank you, your honor. Officer Bauer, can you explain to the court exactly how my client was acting differently?” Changing the question slightly, Matt's lips twitched with the hint of a smirk.

“I don’t know, she, she just was!” Bauer cried, flustered.

“Is there any other difference between her and the rest of the group that you can explicitly state other than her appearance or her race?” Matt asked, cheeks twitching as he gleefully listened to the snare clasp around its victim.

“No.” Bauer answered. "But, but it wasn't like that!"

Turning to the judge, Matt's spine was straight with satisfaction as he announced his intentions. “Your honor, the defense would like to file a motion to dismiss this case on the grounds of selective enforcement. The combined testimony of Officers Bauer and Burke demonstrates an intent to frisk my client because she was black, not solely because of her actions, negating the principle of reasonable suspicion.”

The courtroom exploded, the witness and prosecution both howling in protest as the defendant and Matt both smirked. Grinning ecstatically, you stifled a laugh as the uproar continued, until the judge finally granted the dismissal. You couldn’t lessen your smile if you tried.

Flooding out of the courtroom amidst the sea of spectators and journalists, you stepped out of the current as quickly as you could. Craning your neck over the waves of bobbing heads, you broke into a wide grin when you saw Matt trailing after the masses, cane sweeping inches from their ankles like he was chasing them out. As soon as he was within reach, you called his name, eagerly grasping his outstretched hand and tugging him out of the doorway.

“God, Matty, that was incredible.” You exclaimed breathlessly, wrapping him in a tight hug. His forehead landed against your hair, his nose skimming the shell of your ear as he shook with a resonant chuckle.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss against your neck, a guttural noise slipping out as he did. “Fuck, you smell so good.”

His words were barely audible, a secret to only be shared with you. They sent another wave of need straight to your core. “Matthew,” You mumbled, his name breaking off into a whine.

Another huff of laughter sounded in your ear. Planting another kiss against your neck, Matt's broad hands squeezed your hips. “My place. Now.”

“What about you?” You murmured, mouth watering as every touch from your boyfriend left a lingering patch of heat along your skin.

“I have a few things to finish up here, but I'll be there when I can. I promise.” You didn't need to hear his heartbeat to feel the honesty in his vow.

The idea of waiting for him made your knees tremble, the joints threatening to buckle as Matt swiped a calloused thumb over the bare skin of your waist, his hand beneath your shirt. “Matty, please.”

Matt shushed you sweetly. “Not here, angel. Be a patient girl for me and I'll make all your pain worth it, I promise.”

With one final squish of your hips, Matt separated from you.

The walk to Matt’s apartment was excruciating. With each step, the throbbing between your legs grew more intense. By the time you’d made it up the stairs and flopped onto his couch, you were practically panting with want.

Now, you were desperately trying to focus on your book, but the words on the page might as well have been gibberish given how little you'd retained since you started. How were you supposed to manage when the image of Matt's parted lips was branded on the back of your eyelids.

“Be a patient girl for me and I'll make all your pain worth it, I promise.”

Patience was never your strongsuit.

Digging your front teeth into your lip, you dropped your head to the arm of Matt's couch with a thunk, whimpering as your discomfort crested. Blowing out a breath, you clenched the paperback book with vigor, fingernails stabbing the parchment inside, scarring it with tiny crescents. If only this book was Matt's broad back.

He loved when you got a little rough with him. You couldn't help it. As soon as his mouth was on you, your eyes shut, vision blanketed with stars. Your hands would grapple for whatever surface they could find to anchor you as Matt rocked the two of you in tandem, your nails carving scratches into Matt's beautiful, sporadically-freckled skin in the process.

The first time it happened, you'd been horrified. Stammering out an apology and offering to apply antibiotic gel to the red marks, but your boyfriend had just smiled, assuring you that he didn't mind.

“Each of those marks is a reminder that I'm yours, sweetheart.”

Arching your back as Matt's dulcet tone echoed in your ears, the book toppled to the ground with a flutter of pages. Hands wandering over your body, you reminded yourself to be patient.

Matt will be here soon. He will.

But not soon enough. A voice buried somewhere in your subconscious warned, encouraging your primal desires and urging your hands to free the hem of your blouse from where it was tucked beneath the waistband of your skirt. Fingertips trailing over the now-exposed skin of your lower belly, you hummed softly as a ripple of pleasure circled out from your fingertips.

Unbuttoning your skirt, you slowly loosened the fabric enough for your hand to dip under it. Dragging a finger over your panties towards your core, you hissed as it finally reached your delicate clit. The bundle of nerves was overly sensitive after being ignored for so long. Pulling the cotton aside, you pushed your finger between your folds, smiling as it danced over your clit. Circling it carefully with a single finger, you shuddered as your body began to buzz with a familiar thrill.

Rocking your hips into your hand slowly, you could barely hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears—which meant that the slam of a closing door caught you off guard.

Yanking your hand out of your underwear with a yelp, you sat up, frantically jerking your head towards the door.

“I thought I told you to wait for me, sweetheart.” Matt's face was shrouded by an array of shadows, the glint of his malicious smirk tinted red in the light of his living room window.

“I—I was!” You mumbled, arousal seeping into your panties as Matt stalked towards you with a laugh.

“You know I can tell when you're lying, sweets. Want to try that again?”

“Depends,” You retorted, adrenaline reigniting the confidence Matt always brought out in you. “Are you planning on apologizing for being so late?”

Chuckling sinfully, Matt cornered you against the back of the couch, fingers deftly unlooping the fabric of your skirt from the remaining buttons. Leaning down until your lips were practically touching, his mouth glanced against yours as he spoke, ignoring your question. "Do you know how difficult it is to remain coherent when you've clouded the entire courthouse in your scent?"

"W-what?" You stammered, gasping shallowly when Matt's teeth grazed the underside of your jaw, his lips kissing languidly along your neck.

"Did you miss me that much, sweetheart? Wanted me to take you right there on the floor before the jury?" Matt purred, making your cheeks thrum with bashful heat.

"I'm not the only one who wanted that, it seems." You grinned, cupping your hand over the noticeable bulge in his pants. “I can't help it, Matt. Watching you in your element...you're intoxicating. I can't listen to two words out of your mouth without wanting to drag you to the nearest bathroom.”

Palming his cock through the layers he wore, Matt growled into the skin of your neck, nipping at your pulse point. Static ricocheted from the impact, freezing you in place as your thighs flexed.

Shedding you of your skirt, Matt gently caressed the cotton covering your drenched pussy. “Can I—”

“Please,” You begged, choking in a breath before Matt's mouth crashed against yours. His stubble bristled against your skin, the small pinpricks a pleasant contrast to his plush lips. Tearing the remaining clothes from your legs, Matt threw his leg over your torso, encouraging you to fully recline against the leather. One hand cupping the back of your head, the other was splayed across your mound, a single dextrous finger parting your glistening lips.

He tasted like salt, like want. His tongue lapping at you like he needed to swallow you whole, like he couldn't get enough.

His cheeks ruffled as a strangled moan escaped him. “You're this wet for me, sweetheart?”

“All for you.” You panted, the air between you growing thick with feverish heat. “Always for you.”

With a beautiful grin, Matt's finger swiped over your entrance. “You ready?”

Nodding sloppily, you brought your hands up to cup his cheeks, tugging him back to your lips. Mouth colliding with yours, the force became bruising when your body rutted upwards, a jolt of satisfaction striking your every cell as Matt's finger entered you.

You hissed as the familiar pleasant pain washed over you. Arching your back as Matt pumped his digit upwards, you moaned, clapping a hand over your mouth as the sound escaped you.

Matt chuckled. “No need to be quiet, sweetheart. Tell me how it feels.”

“So g-good, Matty.” You whimpered, every nerve within your folds quivering as Matt dragged his finger out of you, pushing it in again as he scraped his teeth over your neck. You cried out, vision going black as your body strained to find release. Your fingers dug into the silk beneath you, yanking at the sheets.

As your desperation grew, the rest of your limbs faded into numbness, your brain solely focused on the sensations of Matt’s callouses scraping against your walls—as if he was scratching an itch that had been niggling at you for hours.

Matt hummed against your throat, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit, making you yelp. The fire within you was out of control, your body drawn taught like the string of a bow.

Wriggling slightly beneath his touch, your breaths became shallow, your stamina worn thin after watching him in court. You whined, twisting slightly to avoid launching yourself over the alluring edge into heavenly oblivion.

“So close already, sweets?” He teased, repeatedly strumming the bundle of nerves.

You moaned in assent, fisting the blankets in your clammy hands. His thick fingers tangled in your hair, giving your locks a tug and drawing a pleased yelp from your mouth.

“Go on. Come for me.” Matt rasped, his breath fanning over your face.

The command shoved you over the cliff, your lungs clenching as you stifled a scream. Your tailbone rutted up, your back arching off the mattress. Everything went white, your ears ringing as sheer pleasure coursed through your veins.

Matt was murmuring to you, his words muddled by the blood rushing in your ears. “–at’s my girl. Always such a good girl.”

Rounding the peak, you collapsed to the mattress, your body trembling viciously. Each beat of your heart shook your rib cage, the motions rippling throughout your limbs. Hands flexing, you hissed as the muscles stretched out of mashed fists. Cupping Matt’s cheeks, you smiled as he eagerly dipped to kiss you.

“Good?” He asked, the question punctuated by the noise of your lips pulling apart.

“Fuck, Matty,” You whispered, head still swimming from the influx of oxytocin. “Yes. Yes, it was good. S-so good.”

Withdrawing his hand from between your legs, Matt cradled you against his chest, brushing a thumb over your nape as your soul re-tethered. Lifting one wobbly leg, you shifted, attempting to throw the leaden weight over him, but Matt gently caught you by the thigh, encouraging you to relax.

“What about you, love?” You asked, drawing in a harsh breath when Matt’s teeth nipped under your ear, his fingers already spreading your legs again.

“Later.” He huffed, his stiff length falling against your plush hip. “I’m not done with you quite yet.”

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @msjb2002 @blue-devil-of-the-lord @pigeonmama @daisy-arien0 @yarrystyleeza

340 notes · View notes

no-saints-around-here · 11 months

Text

Yesterday's Cage for Tomorrow's Prison: Chapter 1

Yandere Shiba Family, Yandere Sano Family with BabyShibaSister!Reader

Masterlist

‎‎

heavily inspired by @sinreader 's Promise, and many thanks to @trashybandit for the bigbrain ideas!

tw: heavy incest, pseudo incest, explicit smut, yandere, drugging, sexual assault, heretic religious themes, afab reader, female pronouns, dead dove do not eat

“Our Father who art in Heaven.” His words bounced off the ornately decorated walls of the church, echoing back amidst the crackle of flickering lit candles dancing carefree atop their wax prison. At this time of night, it was only his single large figure that towered over the pews, his head of slicked-back blue hair bowed respectfully in prayer. Despite it not being Christmas quite yet, Taiju found himself having wandered back to the familiar, comforting environment of this holy place. Maybe it was in search of divine guidance through these difficult times, or perhaps it was somewhere he could think and ponder without distraction; God only knew he could use whatever help he could get.

Silence fell once more back over the otherwise lifeless building, blanketing the atmosphere with a heavy grandeur as the figure of an angel simply watched on from the altar, stone eyes devoid of any mercy of the inner turmoil Taiju was going through. The man sighed, dropping his clasped hands, yellow tiger-like eyes turned up towards the ceiling, a silent plea to the heavens. Where to even start?

You were gone, missing from the penthouse he had called home ever since he had parted ways with Hakkai and Yuzuha twelve years ago. You - their baby sister, the single knot left that still held their broken family together - had vanished during his watch, and had failed to turn back up at the Shiba family home like you usually did. You, the only reason why your three older siblings were still in contact despite everything that checkered their past, the one person they would move the sun to keep you safe and secluded away from the harsh outside, the sole being Taiju held above all else in his heart right next to God.

And you had abandoned him. Left him and his protection for a godless world. A dark and violent reality.

“Forgive me, Lord, for it has been a-” His usually formidable voice cracked, though the hitch in his tone was quickly swallowed. “A long day.”

The soft silk scarf wrapped around large shoulders was lightly perfumed with the fragrance you always wore, the gentle scent only serving to remind him of your equally kind touch. The last of the Shiba siblings to be born, Taiju had been the one to raise you from the beginning, though you were spoiled rotten by all your older siblings. And having promised his mother on her deathbed to always watch over you, he had always allowed you to do as you will, with you never once having been the target of his discipline. Was it his softness towards you that led you to decide to rebel? Was it his reluctance to ever discipline you like he did Yuzuha and Hakkai? Were you taking advantage of his continued goodwill?

Tai-nii! Up! The memory of your giggle from a time past reverberated in his ears, and if Taiju closed his eyes, he could still see a younger, tinier you - arms raised towards your oldest brother, insisting on being picked on and swung onto those broad shoulders. Your chubby, happy face as you dug into a burger he had bought for you, stopping to offer your big brother a bite of what was supposed to be your treat. Tai-nii, stop moving! You’re going to ruin it! Adorable doe eyes that held all the innocence of a lamb furrowed in concentration as you braided his blue-streaked hair into many tiny braids as he laid there and let you thread flowers right before his gang meeting. And any anger towards you that had begun to surge up into his chest instantly melted away, replaced with a nagging emptiness that felt wrong. He needed to find you, and soon.

But where could you have gone? “She’s out there, all alone. Cold, hungry, dirty-”

That was an answer he still lacked after a week despite his best efforts, though perhaps all the search parties he had sent out would not return empty-handed this time. After all, Yuzuha, Hakkai and him had been so careful that you were allowed to see, meet and know all your life - he couldn’t think of anyone that you would be able to seek shelter with off the bat.

All his life, every second he had watched over you, your oldest brother had worked so hard to keep you pure, both of mind and body; it was what any good Christian father would have done for you as the Bible had demanded within its blessed pages, and in the absence of their own who was too busy working, Taiju had done it in his stead. And you had been so good for him as well when you were younger, listening obediently to everything he told you and learning eagerly from the person you looked up to the most in all the world, that bright and unsullied gaze filling him with joy. But then you grew up, and with your growth came the questions. The doubt.

“Tainted.”

He couldn’t keep you home from school, not without arousing unwanted interest from the authorities, but with every passing day, Taiju could only watch as your once pure eyes were clouded over. Fouled, dirtied by filth spewed forth from dirtbags. He had tried his best to keep them away from you in the only way he knew how; the blood of sinners that coated his hands, that splattered across his face and stained his clothes was a low price to pay to warn everyone else away from you. Yet you still continued to stray from the light slowly but surely, first asking why you couldn't watch the television, to why your siblings were so insistent on keeping you at home and in sight when everyone else could ‘go and hang out with friends’, and then slowly progressing to why they were 'ruining your life’.

Sighing, Taiju stood, dusting off and adjusting his tailor-made suit, handcrafted Italian shoes barely making a sound as the giant of a man made his way across carpeted floors towards the empty altar. It hurt him as much as it hurt you, but he was just doing what was best for his baby sister. Coming to a pause right before the wooden candle-laden table, those beastly eyes turned up longing to gaze upon the angel sculpture. Virtuous, sinfree, divine; you were once his little angel. “I pray that you lead me to my lost lamb, Lord, like how you shepherd your flock to the promised lands.”

‎‎

Despite all his protection, you just kept getting older by the day, and the day that he caught the gazes of scum lingering on your behind as he walked you out from the Shiba family compound was the day Taiju had had enough; mere beatings dished out to your unwelcomed company weren’t going to keep you on the right path. The time had come to solve the problem at the root. And even in his memories, Taija had to remind himself that it didn’t feel good. It couldn’t feel good, because it wasn’t like Taiju wanted to do it to you. But he had to do it to you, for your sake.

Just the sheer thought of some sinner would have their slimy hands touching your delicate skin, fingers dipping into your panties as they touched your lips with that dirty mouth, soiling the purity that your brother fought so hard for- Such a detestable thought that he had to shower again just to remove the ick from his skin. No, he would never let you be taken advantage of, to be tarnished by demons.

He remembered that he had kept you home from school that day without explanation, instead dressing you up in his favorite white dress and taking you to church. You didn’t question it of course, your head bowed as you listened quietly to his prayer, before compliantly following him home. Neither did you question the drink that the oldest of the Shibas passed over to you, simply drinking it down, washing the glass and putting it away. The sleeping pills didn’t take long to take effect, and it was the first time in a long while since Taiju had seen you in such a peaceful state, your face relaxed as you cuddled into the warmth of his chest, bundled safely in his arms as he carried you upstairs to his room.

A twinge of guilt prinkled at his chest as the unusually silent man lifted your skirt up to reveal the pristine pair of panties, framed between your silky thighs, though it was mercilessly squashed down - there was nothing to be ashamed of. Because there was no pleasure to it, he told himself: a union under the eyes of the Lord. His unglamorous task of taking your virginity that your oldest brother was undertaking was all for your sake, Taiju reminded himself again and again. To preserve your virtue, to save his little angel from the sinners of the earth, he must.

You were wet between your legs, Taiju had grimly noted, the sticky liquid stretching to form a glistening trail that snapped as he finally peeled your underwear off, the cloth surreptitiously slipped into his pocket instead of being tossed to the side with the rest of your clothes. It was a worrying sign to your god-fearing brother of your slipping righteousness. Where have your thoughts been going? What have you been doing alone? Was he already too late? His distress was somewhat alleviated when he pressed your lips apart to find an unengorged clit, and a quick dip of his finger into your slit alleviated his concerns as you tried to wriggle away from the intrusion into your privates. Good, you weren’t used to the sensation.

Pulling his erect cock out from his boxer, the man lined himself up between your spread legs. But for all his mental preparations, for all the praying he had done in the week leading up to this day, every last thought was lost, ripped away in a sudden violent wind in his mind as he finally slipped the thick head of his cock into you, as he could only concentrate on biting back the satisfied groan that threatened to rip from his throat as he forced himself past your tight muscles. He was stronger than this, stronger than the immediate siren’s call of your warm walls that instantly began to squeeze around his member, adding to your tightness that surrounded him like the demons of the earth. Pressing through and deep into the tunnel of muscles, he finally bottomed out in you, the hairs that decorated the base of his cock like a halo tickling your soft skin.

He didn’t remember it being a particularly hot afternoon, the memory of a cool wind that gently brushed drawn curtains still strong. Yet the beads of sweat clung to his forehead as he began to thrust, pulling out slightly before gently pushing himself back in as far as he could go - a small mercy he granted you for you to be able to adjust to his size. Even in your sleep, you winced, your brow furrowed as tears welled at the corners of your eyes, your legs subconsciously attempting to close around him in an effort to push away the pain though you failed to wake, the sleeping pills keeping you pliable.

“Shhhhhh,” Taiju had soothed you, running one big hand through your hair as he bounced you on his lap, your bare skin barely making a sound rubbed against the cloth of his shirt and pants.

‎‎

A soft soft chime of his phone, and Taiju was shaken from his memories. The gaze of the angel seemed more ominous as the night grew older, surrounded and swallowed at the edges by the shadows as several candles expired. The blue-haired man turned, adjusting the silk scarf around his neck as he left, his footsteps thudding across the worn wooden floor. “Amen,” he mumbled, as the double doors of the church swung close behind him.

He needed to find you, and soon.

‎‎

You let out an eep as you were yanked backwards by the strap of your bag, though you never did hit the floor like the scrunch of your body and outstretched limbs had prepared for, instead finding yourself being caught and slowly lowered to rest against a warm wall of muscles. “And where do you think you’re going?” He whispered into your ear, hot air tickling the nape of your neck as Izana’s unblinking violet eyes glanced down at you.

Letting out a sigh, you opted to allow yourself to relax, slumping back against the tanned man as his arms moved to wrap gently around your waist: caught again. Your dreams of a quick jaunter shattered once more. “I-I was just thinking of popping out for some snacks,” you admitted sheepishly.

You hadn’t even seen him there despite his white, wavy hair being a perfect contrast against the black sofa and dimly lit room, and you could have sworn you looked several times before attempting your getaway. Yet against your mind still screaming for you to move, to flee, to grovel and beg for mercy like you always had to in the not so distant past, it was sheer relief that surged through your veins as you realized that his disappointed tone was all you had to deal with now. Receiving nothing more than a hum for your rebellion still came as an unexpected relief to you where formerly you would have had to bare your buttocks for a spanking, two thick unlubed fingers forced into your tight pucker to make the punishment that much more painful. You shuddered, forcing those foul memories back. Come to think of it, you were definitely glad that your older siblings had remained unaware of your secret…excursions out from under their noses - you would have never gotten to know Izzy if you didn’t, and you would have nowhere to go.

Izana pulled you closer to rest his chin atop your head while you pouted at your foiled outing attempt. No words needed to be exchanged: those empty eyes gazing down at you said everything that needed to be said. Even just across the road was too dangerous alone given what was at stake for you.

The glimmer of the polished front door just a stone’s throw away mocked you from where you now sat amidst the grandeur of the reception room, though you knew that nothing looked like it seemed - that door was heavy, much, much heavier than its wooden facade gave away, and almost too hefty for you to pull open yourself. And it didn’t open straight out into the world you knew, instead leading to the lift that would bring you down to a concealed door hidden within an inoperable freezer in the backroom of a Toman-owned club; it was a when, rather than if, you would have been caught on your escapee.

But still, you tried. "It would have been five minutes tops, just there and back."

The white-haired man barely blinked at your plea, cocking his head to one side. “You want to go back there?”

Wincing at his question, his usually harsh gaze seemed to soften on you; you didn’t quite need the reminder that you were just across town from where you had run away from, nor that your siblings were scouring the city for any sign of you. The four walls of this luxury apartment were where your safety and security was guaranteed, protected from your former Shiba family who seeked to return you to your cage, though the same guarantee couldn’t be extended should you choose to wander out alone. “No,” You mumbled, burying your face into his black jacket, his tanned hand soothingly running through your hair. “M’ sorry Izzy.”

‎‎

“Don’t worry about it,” Izana reassured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he cuddled you closer. You smelled…soft, a hard-to-describe yet addictive scent that he couldn’t get enough of. He imagined it would be much like what a newborn would smell to its mother. “What was it you wanted to buy?”

You were the fresh spring rain to his cold, hardened ground, new life to his tainted world like the first seedlings of the year. It was a well-kept secret that Izana had always wanted someone to dote on after the tough life that he had led, someone unblemished by the horrid world who he could lavish his love on and in return receive unconditional love. Someone he could latch onto and leach off and pass on the burden of a purpose to keep living.

No pet would make the cut, nor would the hassle of maintaining a significant other be worth the risks or cost. And the crime boss had also known exactly what he needed, the same thing that the rest of his adoptive family (no matter how much he resented them at times) also craved for deep down, but it was exactly what they lacked in every regard: a baby sibling. Someone to spoil, someone to light up their world with their innocent doe eyes and toothy smile, someone to simply appreciate their existence and their presence without expecting anything in return. The youngest of them, Emma, was way too old and hardened, and there were no untainted hands left.

So when you turned up after all these years, anxiously loitering outside one of the many clubs he owned on that stormy night looking like a lost puppy, soaked with nowhere else to go and no one to turn to, Izana knew he had struck gold. Who better to fill that hole in his chest than a new baby sister who had been so sheltered from the dark, despairing world? But you were his, and he so despised sharing.

“I was- I wanted to buy ice cream.”

Izana raised an eyebrow. ‘Ice cream? Do the kitchens not have any more?”

The corners of your lips pulled down further, your voice dropping to a whisper as if to keep a secret. “I wanted to try the one I saw on the TV,” you admitted, burying your head further into his coat in embarrassment. “The kitchens didn’t have that brand.”

He had known you briefly all those years ago, Izana recalled, as he propped you up better in his lap; you had bumped into him outside of your school, striking up a conversation despite him being dressed in his Black Dragon uniform, only to turn white and hurry away abruptly as if realizing something. And it was those innocent eyes, the same that still looked back at him when you blabbered to yourself, that Izana could never quite scrub from his memories every time he convinced you to sneak out to see him, not even after he lost track of you for all these years. Learning of your family explained much of your disappearance for all these years, but still; he supposed he’ll have to thank them for keeping you this pure just for him. You hadn’t even realized you were simply trading one gilded cage for another.

Trailing one hand up your creamy thigh, slowly inching further and further beneath your skirt, it was a complete wonder that you failed to react negatively, if at all. You didn't register it as wrong or weird, Izana mused, violet eyes watching as you enthusiastically described the advertisement that so caught your attention, the solid gold tag engraved with his name hanging from the equally pricy collar around your neck jingling away merrily with each wave of your arms. But he stopped before he had wandered too far up and retrieved his hand - that was for a more suitable time.

Any sane individual would know better than to approach the insanity that was the Sano family, yet you had waltzed into their - his - lives without a second thought, recklessly trading one jail for another all for the possibility of the real family you craved. Bundling you into his deceptively lean arms, Izana stood, setting you carefully back onto your feet. “Come on, I’ll bring you to the store.”

Your expression changed in a moment, the sheer joy at such a simple request being fulfilled amusing to the white-haired man. “Really? I mean, I don’t need it…”

One tan hand came down to gently rap you on your head. “Unless you don’t want it anymore.”

“No no!” You did a little jig, before shyly slipping your delicate hand into his. “Thanks, Izzy.”

“Just Izzy?”

“Izzy-nii-san.”

He let out an approving hum, free hand reaching into his pocket to lightly touch the cool metal of his pistol, the other tugging you to walk with him. “Good girl.”

Those doe eyes of yours were priceless, but he couldn't help but wonder if they would look any different broken.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #yandere tokyo revengers x reader #yandere tokyo revengers #tokyorev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyorev x reader #tok rev #shiba hakkai #shiba taiju #shiba yuzuha #kurokawa izana #izana x reader #taiju x reader #taiju smut #izana smut #hakkai x reader #yuzuha x reader #mikey x reader

486 notes · View notes

applesauce42069 · 6 days

Text

I want to talk about Jewish indigeneity using this document from the UN, entitled "Who are indigenous peoples."

I'm not saying that all Jews necessarily fit every single thing that is on this document in all cases and times. I believe this document from the UN, which is clearly intended to be used for legal and political purposes, to identify vulnerable groups who need assistance. But even if we don't - we don't have to.

The document itself says:

According to the UN the most fruitful approach is to identify, rather than define indigenous peoples. This is based on the fundamental criterion of self-identification as underlined in a number of human rights documents

Jews have understood that our ancestors came from and originated in the Southern Levant since before the word "indigenous" existed. Our ancestors cared about their homeland so much that they wrote a story that said that our god gave it to them to describe how special our land was to them.

There are many ancient documents that describe how strongly Jews feel about the land that shares a name with us, the land that we call Israel. The earliest example I know of a Jew calling themselves indigenous to Israel is from 1947 at the UN, when Eliyahu Eliachar said:

As the indigenous population of Palestine, we demand the restitution of our rights, the abolition of the White Paper of 1939 and all it stands for and the opening of the gates to all Jews in need of a home, whether from East or West. Not wanted anywhere — undesirables everywhere — this germ of restlessness and despair is eating us up root and branch.

I'm going to share a graphic from the pew research centre:

why do you think this is the case? it is because most jews understand themselves as connected to israel by nature of being jewish because we are indigenous to there.

So, details from the UN document that I feel resonates with Jews, Jewish identity, and Jewish history:

Self- identification as indigenous peoples at the individual level and accepted by the community as their member. Historical continuity with pre-colonial and/or pre-settler societies. Strong link to territories and surrounding natural resources. Distinct social, economic or political systems Resolve to maintain and reproduce their ancestral environments and systems as distinctive peoples and communities. Indigenous peoples are the holders of unique languages, knowledge systems and beliefs and possess invaluable knowledge of practices for the sustainable management of natural resources. They have a special relation to and use of their traditional land. Their ancestral land has a fundamental importance for their collective physical and cultural survival as peoples. Indigenous peoples hold their own diverse concepts of development, based on their traditional values, visions, needs and priorities.

...they are the descendants - according to a common definition - of those who inhabited a country or a geographical region at the time when people of different cultures or ethnic origins arrived. The new arrivals later became dominant through conquest, occupation, settlement or other means.

#jumblr #judaism #jewish and proud #jews are indigenous to israel

90 notes · View notes

bamfaholic · 28 days

Text

From Eden to Sit at Your Door | Part 3 |

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Kurt Wagner x Reader | 2.6k words

A/N: We're finally getting to the fluff! :3

Support me on my AO3!

As you both enter the desolate building, you curl in on yourself. There are cobwebs everywhere, and the dust has you sneeze.

“Gesundheit,” The elfish man chimes in. “You need not be afraid, friend.” His smile has turned weak, but never left his face. He lifts sheets off some furniture, mostly pews, which kicks up more dust. It irritates your nose, having you sneeze more.

As you reach the podium, the stir has a flock of pigeons pick up and fight to get to the support beams first. You let out a little shriek, caught off guard by the feathery guests. Kurt only chuckles.

“Home, huh?” You say, arms crossed. “I think you need a duster…or two.”

Kurt laughs, but it’s cut short with a choking cough. You think you see blood on the corner of his mouth, but he wipes it away before you could truly know. “Ah, I know. But as I told you, it has been some time since I’ve been home.”

Kurt kneels before the cross and whispers a prayer. He clutches the rosary from before tightly, pressing his hands to his forehead. You stand there awkwardly, seeing the bleeding man pray to his savior nailed on a cross. Once finished, he lights a candle, before rising.

“Come, I will take you away from this dusty room, Sneezy.” His eyes have grown slightly mischievous as he offers you a hand.

You tell yourself you’re only humoring as you chuckle in response, “Oh, don’t insult the spiders’ handiwork, they’re skilled workers.” You gently take his hand.

His grin is back, bringing life and light to his features. His eyes illuminate the dim environment as he guides you through a few hallways. He brings you to a comfortable bedroom, illuminated with large candles that have cooled wax drips pooling at their base. There’s one large bed, and it looks recently slept in. The blankets are kicked to the side, pillow ajar. A bench on the other side of the room is covered in supplies.

Kurt sheepishly chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “So... This is where I have been staying.” He heads right to the bench, pulling out a robust first aid kit and plopping down his crimson stained swords. It’s full of creams and vials you can’t recognize by sight alone. So he really did have a barrel of antidotes.

You sit down on the bed, and sink. It’s delightfully soft, and the blanket is rather warm too. You watch curiously as Kurt pulls out a suture kit, first grabbing the forceps. He reaches around his back, attempting to reach the pieces of glass. He struggles, immensely. The tips of his ears darken, a pretty indigo, as the time painfully ticks on.

“Do… Do you need help?” You offer, feeling so out of place in this room.

A beat passes. “A-Aye. That would be… Appreciated.” He huffs, lowering his arms in defeat.

You crawl beside him, kneeling on the ground. His face is that bright purple too, you notice. He gently places the forceps in your hands before turning his back to you. “Please let me know if I hurt you.” You mutter, before beginning. You target the biggest pieces first, knowing they would be easiest to grab. You try to go slow, but with enough force to get each piece out.

Kurt sharply inhales, his claw-nails scratching the cement floor as you pull out each piece. They tink in the metal pan beside you, leaving bits of purple blood behind. The smaller pieces are far more difficult, but you manage just fine. Your heart aches for Kurt, though, as it’s clear this isn’t the most pleasant experience.

“There.” You softly say, setting the forceps down. “Nothing seems to deep to need stitches.

“Thank God.” He sighs, relaxing his tense muscles. “Thank you, friend, truly.”

He begins to get up, but you grab his wrist. “No, sit, let me help. You’ve helped me plenty.” His eyes only stare, mouth slightly agape, but he refuses to protest. He resumes sitting, but stretches out his legs.

You gently blot away the blood and clean the wounds, much to his dismay. “Can you take your shirt off for me?” It’s too late when you realize how intimate that could be, turning a furious red. The blush trickles all the way up to the tips of your ears.

“Ja,” Kurt stumbles over himself, “Of course.” He carefully undoes his suit enough to wiggle his arms free, his back then following suit.

His bare back is now in front of you. You mindlessly delicately trace a finger tip down his defined muscles. His raw strength must be incredible.

Ha, you think to yourself, Incredible Nightcrawler indeed.

You continue to be gentle, barely touching him as you clean his wounds, pulling more hisses from his lips as the alcohol burns away any possible infection. You get the small scrapes and knicks too, and then notice all the scarring. Most, if not all, seem old. Very old. Again, without thinking, you touch him.

“What happened here?” You whisper.

He’s silent, and your heart jumps into your throat. You fear you crossed a line without intending to and are moments away from scrambling before he reaches behind and places a hand over yours. “Whips.” He begins. “Whips, from the circus.”

You swallow hard. Ah, right. He had mentioned the horrific conditions. “They… They did this to you?”

“Aye.” His eyes cast down. “If I failed tricks, if I did not bring in enough money, if they felt like it.” His voice trails off. “What good is a pet if it does not entertain nor make money?”

“Pet?” You scoff. “Kurt you are not some pet. You- You’re-“ That tongue of yours is going to get you in hot water one day, “You are the most awe-inspiring man I have ever met. A legend, if I dare say so.”

He chuckles, turning to face you. You both now sit on the cold floor, your hot breath on the other. He looks so winded, tired, like he hasn’t slept in ages. “I am happy you think so. I know most do not.”

You blame the adrenaline, the chance there’s still drugs in your system, anything and everything as you reach up to cup his cheek. “You saved my life, Kurt Wagner, and I must thank you for it. You showed me kindness, and even took the blow for me.”

You hear his heart pound against his ribcage, his face hot. “Ah, I guess I did-“ He nervously chuckles, leaning away from your touch. “But that is the job of an X-Man, no?” He leans back, pulling his face out of your palm.

Your heart sinks, and you can’t place why. “I suppose…”

You look away, letting your eyes scan the room. The candle light makes it feel warmer, the walls reflecting the flickering yellow flame. Beside the bed you notice a poster with an awfully familiar figure hand painted on it. The Nightcrawler. A part of you wishes to have seen him soar in the air, but knowing the cost you’re happy he’s now an X-Man.

Kurt rises, rolling his shoulders back. They crack as he does this, and then he stretches his arms up, his tail shooting straight out as well. “Stretching is good for you, friend.” He says with a small smile. “I do it every morning, noon, and night.” He snaps himself in half next, touching his toes. He loosens his neck last, and then rummages around in a bag.

“I’m glad you’re dedicated.” You slightly chuckle. “I don’t think I could ever be a trapeze artist.”

“No,” Kurt laughs, “No you could not. Too much… Needing your eyes.” He admits as he continues to dig.

“What was it like?” You pique his interest, the sharp tip of one of his ears flicks. “Doing such feats?”

“Like being an angel.” He admits, sighing dreamily. He pulls a thin tank top out, tossing it over his head. “I flew.” He mumbles softly. “I brought joy and smiles to those who saw me and did the unthinkable. I believe that to be tasks of angels.” He snakes out of the remainder of his suit, and you breathe a sigh of relief seeing he had shorts on underneath.

He returns to digging in the bag, and you chew on his words. He pulls out a few more items, turning to you. “I believe I owe you an apology.”

“Huh?” You’re stumped. “For what?”

He hands you a beautiful, handcrafted cane, something you only ever dreamt of owning. It was exactly your style, the grip being comfortable for long use, and adjustable to the correct height. “For making you lose your cane.” Both his sharp fangs peek out in this smile. He really is proud of himself, and his wagging tail is giving it away.

You return the grin, running your hand down the smooth craftsmanship. “It’s… It’s beautiful.” Your smile widens, “Thank you.”

“It was no problem, really. Besides, do not thank me yet,” His nose crinkles, just like before, “I have more gifts.”

He pulls out a change of clothes for you, your white cane, and a few snacks from your cupboard.

“I may have… Snooped. Only a little!” He swiftly raises his hands in defense. “I had a feeling we would have to lie low, and so who am I to make someone uncomfortable when it was me who dragged them into this?”

You’re far too focused on the warm fuzzy feeling in your tummy to even assume the worst of Kurt. He had your trust wholeheartedly. “It’s alright.” You chuckle. “Thank you.”

A yawn worms its way out of Kurt, “Ah, apologies. Too much excitement for one day.”

“You can sleep, you know.” You motion to the bed. “You should, you have done a lot today.”

He shakes his head. “No, no. I can’t take the bed from you. I will sleep elsewhere.”

“Where, precisely?”

“…From the beams?” His embarrassment is endearing and palpable.

You snort. “You are not hanging upside down like a bat.” You get to your feet, propping your canes on the wall. “Go on, get into bed Kurt.”

He stammers, turning even more purple. “B-But, where will you sleep?”

You are pushing him gently toward the bed, “I don’t know, I’ll figure it out.”

You manage to get him on his back, reaching for the blanket when he snatches you up. You squeak as his arms wrap around you. “If we are to argue, then we will both bear the burden!” He jokes, laughing.

Your entire body burns, blood rushing to your face. You hear it happening to him, too. He adjusts you both, and luckily the bed is large enough for you both to lay comfortably on your side. He takes the wall, so he can see the door, and makes himself as small as possible, corkscrewing his tail around one leg. He pulls the soft blanket over top and blows out the single candle.

The snuffed light has you limited in where you can focus your gaze. Unfortunately, for you, all you have is the soft glow of his eyes.

“Goodnight, Schatz.” Kurt says through a yawn. His damp curls fall in his face, and his eyes slowly flutter shut.

Your heart does a few flips at the Schatz. He couldn’t possibly mean it, could he? Your insides are warm, you’re melting into the sheets. His breathing slows and remains soft. He so quickly fell asleep; he must have been exhausted.

You try your best to sleep, closing your eyes, but it’s too loud. You hear the faint trickle of a creek, the occasional flutter from the pigeons, the skitters of the rodents. It’s all too much. You had grown accustomed to the ambience of your flat, the water dripping, soft talking, the cars driving by; but this was all new.

You couldn’t even toss and turn, stuck in your one position. You huff.

“Struggling to sleep?” You could have jumped seven feet. Kurt had one eye open, analyzing you, that devilish grin on his face.

“How did you know?” You whisper back.

“I have my ways.” He chuckles. “Also, I can feel how tense you are.”

A few moments pass, the only sound is both of your breathing.

You open and then close your mouth, swallowing. “I… Yes. It’s too loud.”

“I can imagine.” He sounds so sleepy, like he could drift away in an instant. “It must be so difficult to be so in tune with sound.”

You give a small nod. “You could say that.” You sigh, closing your eyes. “I can hear a creek, the mice, the pigeons…”

Kurt doesn’t offer a reply, instead gently running a hand through your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

You must bite your tongue to prevent any squeaks. “A-Anyway-“ You putter out. “Since I can’t sleep… Do you mind if we talk?”

“No, go on. Speak freely, you are safe in the house of God.”

You begin with a burning question. “How do you do it?” You adjust yourself slightly, trying to make yourself comfortable. “Walk around in the open?”

“Ah well… There are plenty of sympathizers. Many who keep to themselves and mind their business. Most are too cowardly to enact on their hatred and biases.” He pulls his hand back to himself. “I have long ago learned to ‘mind my own business.’” He laughs. “A friend of mine would disagree, he would say ‘give them a piece of your mind, bub.’” He effortlessly says those words in an Americanized accent, you can’t help but giggle.

“I hope to never cross that friend of yours.”

“Ah, well, he is soft at heart.” Kurt rolls onto his back, his shoulder brushing up against you. “It takes much for him to bare his claws.”

“Mmm…” You gently chew the nail on your thumb. “Have you… Always been blue? I hope that doesn’t sound insensitive.”

Kurt lightly chuckles, “Ah, you are alright friend. But, yes, I was born like this. Blue and fuzzy.” He gently wraps an arm around you and pulls you close, having you rest your head on his chest. “There, you can listen to my breathing and heart instead of the scampering of our fellow squatters.”

You feel like air has gotten thicker, you can’t seem to breathe right. You aren’t certain if he’s being flirtatious or genuine. You hear the thump thump of his ventricles opening and closing, the rushing of blood through his veins. Softer is the air filling his lungs.

He is fuzzy, like a teddy bear. You mindlessly paw at it. “Mmm… Soft.” You mutter, sleep finally clutching you in its grasp. If Kurt heard you, he pays it no mind. “Do you like being a mutant?” You yawn.

“Of course.” He begins, softly smiling. “I could not be without it. I am a mutant, and without that I would cease to be.” He ruffles your hair, easing you further into sleep. “I find joy in my identity, and I regret taking so long to do so. I only hope you experience the same some day, friend.”

Your eyes flutter closed, the warmth radiating from him was intoxicating. You tried to ask more, this was your chance, after all, but slumber was the ultimate victor. You both drifted off, in the old church, huddled together.

It was the best sleep you had in a very, very long time. The only sour note was that when you woke up, the bed was empty.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Follow this work and read my others on my AO3

#kurt wagner #nightcrawler #x-men #my works #x men #xmen #x-men fanfic #xmen fanfic #kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #nightcrawler fanfic #⚔️

116 notes · View notes

mybeingthere · 2 months

Text

Born in Keighley, West Yorkshire in 1965, Alison Crowther is a sculptor and furniture maker working exclusively with English Oak. Having first studied 3D design at Buckinghamshire College and then Furniture design at the Royal College of Art, her first notable commission were the pews she created for the Prior Silkstede Chapel at Winchester Cathedral (1996) followed by Lover’s Seat at Chatsworth in 1999. Over the last twenty years, she has produced significant, site-specific works for international, corporate clients such as Swire Properties in Hong Kong: the Sheraton Hotel at Ghuangzhou, China; and the Shangri-La Hotel’s iconic Ting restaurant at The Shard in London. She has also undertaken many private commissions throughout Europe and the USA, including Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket Island.

The way Crowther observes and responds to her material, taking cues from the density, grain and growth pattern creates what Madeleine Bunting described as a ‘dialogue between material and human intervention'. Using tools that range from chainsaws to chisels, she produces work that is sometimes domestic in scale and functional in use, such as Glyndebourne Kissing Benches and sometimes monumental, as with Scale Tree I, created for One Shenzhen Bay. All her work is painstakingly hand-carved from great trunks of unseasoned oak, taken from responsibly managed woodlands within the South Downs National Park. Guided by the natural characteristics of the wood - often embracing the gnarly surface texture - her forms are true to the organic nature of the oak, while also complementing the environments in which they are to be ultimately used and displayed. The wood itself is on a continuous process of change and refinement as the timber ages and weathers, adding to its beauty and character.

70 notes · View notes

boneyardbob · 14 days

Text

Once again rambling about how Tim has this subtle, overly formal accent to him that I am over qualified to recognize. Maybe I'm just crazy but its a fun headcanon either way.

Its not obvious at all but compared to Jay and Alex especially, the way Tim talks and carries himself is proper. At least in a sorta southern sense. He is overcompensating for his lack of social skills in a way that gives him the most positive feedback in that environment. I know old ladies LOVE Tim. He goes to any diner and is getting called a Honey Bun, Sugar Pie, and Sweet Baby by every waitress in there. He's just SO polite and kind how could you not!?

I've known MANY a man like Tim in my life, good and bad, and each time I interact with them I instantly know three things.

1. He is special (needs)

2. He is scared all of the time

3. That boy gained human consciousness sitting in a church pew, wearing a bow tie and suspenders....And mentally he is still there.

Also my roleplay partner suggested that his love for old media came from the kinds of movies shown in the pyschward. It was likely running off of mostly donations so as Tim grew up, the only things ever playing in the living-area would be black and white movies no one wanted to watch, spaghetti westerns, and old Disney like Lady and the Tramp, Snow White, etc. Poor 17 year old Tim, sighing over an obscure 1920s romance movie he has seen 100 times, fantasizing that when he enters the real world he'll find a girl and be JUST like the sweet guy in the movie. Must have been a very rude awakening to step onto a college campus in the early 2000s.

#marble hornets #tim wright #masky marble hornets #alex kraile #jay marble hornets

37 notes · View notes

meteorologistaustenlonek · 1 year

Text

ProtectTheOceans #BeneathTheSurfaceLiesTheFuture "Unbelievable find! Scientists have discovered 20,000+ #octopuses clustered around deep-sea #volcanicsprings—the largest known ‘#octopusgarden’ to date.

This latest discovery highlights how much we still don’t know about the deep-sea" @PewEnvironment

#Pew Environment #Protect The Oceans #Beneath The Surface Lies The Future #Octopus #Octopus Garden #deep sea volcanic springs

1 note · View note

fanficsforheartandsoul · 2 years

Text

New Recruit | Simon Riley x Masked!GN!Reader

To keep this as neutral as possible since anon did not specify the gender, this is written in 2nd POV.

There are some spanish sentences here and although I’m actually learning the language with Duolingo (lmao) I used a translator for this, I apologize if it sounds clunky. I googled how to use gender neutral forms but I’m not sure if I did it correctly sooo.

Also, this is very short because I can’t for the love of god, produce words and a correct sentence in my head at the moment.

Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

Warnings: Ghost is OOC, Ghost might have a kink or more than one, Typical COD Pew Pew is Mostly Omitted, Injuries

Summary: A new member joins taskforce 141 for the hunt of Hassan but you are not what the others expect. Something sparks in Ghost when he shares eye contact with you and you two are on the same eye level.

Word Count: 2,3k

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

It was already unusual for the taskforce to get a new member. Therefore it was even more unusual to get one in the middle of an important operation in another country.

It wasn't exactly convenient but when would it ever be?

Fact was that Hassan Zyani, a major of the terror organization Al Qatala escaped their grasps.

They needed to work with Mexican Special Forces to follow his tracks, so if it was one more member or two, it didn’t really matter now.

Yet it was quite a surprise when Ghost and Soap heard the news.

"Someone will join you in México, a new member of the taskforce. I wanted to introduce the lieutenant a bit later, but Chryso was in the country anyways, so I guess now is as good as ever."

Ghost listened silently to his captain on speaker phone while Soap asked the questions lingering in his head; what kind of muppet name was Chryso? And why would the soldier join them right now when they had something so important to do?

Trusting a stranger in a hostile environment wasn’t exactly an easy thing to do.

Price ignored Soap’s words deliberately and continued:

“Chryso is already known to the Los Vaqueros and Alejandro and as you're aware they know their way around in Las Almas. Be nice and protect your backs. We will talk later and I’m sure Chryso will answer any questions you have.”

Great, Ghost thought and looked at the flabbergasted Soap who stared at the phone display showing the end of the call.

“He just hung up?? What the hell... I feel like someone just told me my sister got married in secret and I have to meet her husband.”

He raised an eyebrow but the other obviously couldn’t see it behind his skull mask.

“You have a sister?”

Soap blinked.

“No, but if I had one...”

Ghost sighed. He hoped that the new addition to the team wouldn’t mess up their operation and would focus on the task at hand. Catching Hassan.

You startled out of your sleep when you heard your call sign.

“They’re arriving in 5, Chryso” said Felipe, the Los Vaqueros soldier who was on the look out with you in one of the abandoned shacks close to the village where intel suggested Hassan Zyani’s location.

Your last undercover mission had taken a toll on your body and you tried to make up for it by napping whenever you could. Felipe’s humming had made you drowsy and apparently your consciousness had slipped away for a bit.

A quick glance at your combat watch proved that you had slept more than an hour and you sat up straight quickly.

“Perdón, you know my last OP still got me fucked up... Did anything move?”

“No pasa nada.”

The man waved his hand dismissively and watched as you stood up and stretched your arms. He had to tilt his head slightly to look up to you. Felipe's eyes wandered over your mask and then he said:

“They’re staying put and keeping quiet.”

You breathed out and rolled your shoulder. Maybe you shouldn’t have slept in such an uncomfortable position...

You were about to meet two members of Taskforce 141 - your new team - and group up with them and the Los Vaqueros to participate in one of their missions. No chit-chat and icebreakers, just business, straight-up.

This was how work had always been with Captain John Price for the few times you had fought together, so it didn’t exactly bother you. But it was making you a bit antsy that he wouldn’t be part of the operation.

You weren’t exactly keen on entrusting your back to total strangers. Not with your... special circumstances.

Your habit of wearing a mask 24/7 often confused other people and many soldiers had treated you slightly differently due to it. Whether it was done deliberately or subconsciously, it often hampered with the beginning of your new relationships until people finally got used to it. Which usually took a while. Seen by the lack of other soldiers accompanying you and Felipe.

Strangely Price didn’t seem to react much to your mask. Maybe that was why you felt comfortable around him. He didn’t treat you any different, he had just looked at it once and then moved on.

You hadn’t told him why you were wearing it but if anyone had to know, you would probably feel most comfortable telling him.

And when you had signed the contract to work as a new member of taskforce 141 you had mulled about doing it. Possibly when you would first see him again. You had believed that it would be today.

But he wouldn’t be part of this mission, which he told you 2 days ago. Instead Lieutenant Simon Riley and Sergeant John Mactavish would cover your back.

You had heard their names before when Price talked to you about joining the taskforce but you didn’t know anything specific about them besides their names and ranks.

And Rodolfo and Alejandro didn’t let anything slip when you asked them if they knew anything about the two soldiers.

They did know more than you but based on the little smirk around Alejandro’s lips they purposely kept information from you, which annoyed you slightly.

But well, Alejandro was a colonel, furthermore the leader of Los Vaqueros and he obviously had to be informed about his allies in such a special operation.

You knew not to question him and he wouldn’t keep anything dangerous from you, he wasn’t like that that’s what you could tell based on the few days you had spent at the Las Almas base. He kept his soldiers safe, had to in the corruption-filled town.

And you would meet the other taskforce members soon anyways.

So you decided to focus on the task at hand and ignore everything else. Whether that would involve strange looks and stupid comments about your mask or not.

The Al Qatala terrorist had to be caught by all means. The files you had received told you enough about the threat he posed to basically everyone in this world. He wouldn’t escape your grasp. Not under your watch.

You strapped your black vest tighter and checked your gear.

A low hum announced the distant approach of some vehicles and Felipe looked out the window to see 3 black jeeps drive down the dirt road.

“They’re inbound.”

You nodded and followed him out of the room down the stairs.

"I have a feeling you'll fit right in, just like Y/N."

Ghost was still mulling over the strange comment of Rodolfo Parra, when they spotted the army checkpoint and Alejandro explained why they had to evade it and he forgot the words quickly.

However, when their convoy arrived at the other side of the river in their AO, he and Soap exited the truck and a few seconds later when he first exchanged eye contact with you, he remembered the words instantly.

You had just moved out of the shack, following a Los Vaqueros soldier. Your back was turned towards the convoy when the man told you something and he gesticulated while you checked your back pockets.

Ghost noted that the soldier talking to you was at least a head smaller than you. You were clad in back and his interest peaked when he realized that your head was covered by a hood. Oh...?

He followed Soap behind Alejandro and Rodolfo and walked up to you while the other Los Vaqueros soldiers readied their guns and spread out.

“No me gusta el hecho de que no tengamos refuerzos” he heard you say through your clenched teeth and your counterpart hummed in agreement.

Alejandro coughed and you turned to face them while he introduced you to him and Soap. Your eyes roamed over them and they lingered a bit longer on him, which made Ghost’s heart beat quicker for some reason.

“This is lieutenant Y/N L/N”, the colonel announced and the smirk on his lips suddenly made sense. He just stared and Soap did the same.

“Just call me Chryso” you said and gave Alejandro an annoyed look that the other ignored and you turned your head back to look at Ghost and you stretched out your hand.

Ghost’s voice was rougher than usual when he told you his name:

“...Simon Riley, but call me Ghost.”

He shook your hand with a firm grip. Hazel and e/c eyes met, both hidden in the shadows of a mask. He caught a glimpse of your spirit in the e/c shade and noted that the skin around your eyes was also hidden behind black makeup.

“Nice to meet you, Lieutenant.”

Fuck, he thought when he realized that he could gaze directly into your eyes without lifting or lowering his head.

And bloody fucking hell, he thought when he realized that in a very strange way he found that mask of yours attractive. Like you were mirroring him, like you two belonged together, like you were meant to be his and he was meant to be yours.

There were not many things that Ghost found immediately attractive upon meeting someone.

He considered himself to be more of a “character”-person than someone who cared about appearances first but there were some things that just drew him in...

Pretty smiles for example. Or the hint of a strong character in one’s eyes. But what really invited his immediate attraction was what Soap had called the most surprising and strangest thing ever when he accidentally spilt this piece of information during one of their long scouting sessions; when someone was just as tall as him.

There was just something about someone being his height that created a spark in his chest.

“That’s a fucking kink” Soap had said back then. Looking at you now and considering the growing feeling in his chest, the scot might have been right.

He let go of your hand before he was holding onto it for too long but he kept his eyes on you even when you had already turned towards Soap to shake his hand.

“Sergeant John Mactavish, but call me Soap.”

The sergeant shook your hand enthusiastically and grinned from ear to ear. He glanced at him and Ghost’s alarm went off in his head.

“You have pretty long legs eh? How tall exactly are you?”

You blinked and Ghost couldn’t stop himself from groaning inwardly when he saw slight confusion and annoyance in your eyes.

“Roughly 6′3 if I remember correctly.”

Soap looked at him but Ghost ignored the stare deliberately and when Alejandro told them to follow him, you immediately turned away from them and hurried to fall into the colonel’s and Rodolfo’s step.

“Oh dios, lo dijo.” Rodolfo said and laughed and Ghost cursed himself for not learning more Spanish on the way here when you groaned. He was about 99% sure this was about your interaction just now.

"¿Dijo que?" Alejandro asked, his voice now lower as they moved closer to the houses, weapons raised.

"Una de las tres cosas que Y/N odia a que le pregunte.¿’Por qué Chryso como apodo’? ¿’Por qué llevas una máscara’? y ¿’Qué tan alte eres’?”

Rodolfo muttered and while the colonel laughed quietly you only sighed.

Ghost didn’t understand what exactly was going on but based on the mocking tone Rodolfo used for his last few words, it was probably something bad. He also mentioned your call sign and he was smart enough to know that the conversation was most likely about them.

As much as it bothered him, they had already reached the stone wall so he turned his attention to the mission at hand.

“Where’s Hassan?” he asked.

“White two-story building at the back”, Alejandro replied and two seconds later they entered the gate and he didn’t have time anymore to think about your height, nor your skull mask that seemed to compliment his own and the fact that your utility straps nicely showed off your thighs.

But all these thoughts and much more rushed through his mind after he had helped you out of the river.

It had already been hard for him to breathe with his mask but your experience with yours had been much worse, the cloth wasn’t exactly made for missions involved with water and you - in your words “almost got waterboarded back there”.

Added to the harsh landing in the river and the bullet graze on your left arm, you weren’t exactly feeling your best and you felt exhausted for a moment, so much so that you had to drag your limbs out of the water when it was your turn.

The soldier in front of you turned around and you looked up at him from your cowering position where you had temporarily bandaged your wound.

Ghost offered you his hand and you took it.

“Thanks” you huffed and he pulled you up with more force than necessary which messed with your balance and made you take a step forward.

He could see a waterdroplet on the tip of your eyelashes and his heart stuttered when he noticed how close you two suddenly were. Your loud breathing made his ears tingle and he took a step back, though not letting go of your hand.

“You good, Chryso?”, he asked, ignoring his imagination where you were panting for a different reason. Jesus Christ, you were injured. And he hadn’t even seen your face yet.

You nodded and he let go of your, pointing at your left arm.

“I’ll bandage your arm in the car, that wrap is a sad excuse of first aid.”

You huffed in annoyance but he saw how your eyes turned into slight halfmoons again, showing him that you were actually smiling.

“Whatever, lieutenant.”

You walked past him, waving your hand in dismissal and he followed you, a small grin on his lips, definitely not sneaking a glance at that ass in those wet black cargo pants.

“I’m really curious... What kind of muppet name is Chryso?”

Alejandro snorted. “Y dale.”

You sighed beside Ghost while he secured the re-wrapped bandage. Soap looked at you through the front mirror.

“We had this guy in my unit, Turner, he was a huge biology nerd. When he first met me, he just said ‘Chrysocyon brachyurus’ which is the scientific name for the maned wolf in South America.”

Soap tilted his head in confusion when Alejandro laughed. “Okay...?”

The colonel tapped the steering wheel. “They have really long legs, hermano. Really long.”

545 notes · View notes

kp777 · 2 months

Text

Here’s Where Kamala Harris Stands on Climate

She pursued polluters as attorney general in California and later staked out bold positions as a senator, including sponsorship of the Green New Deal.

By Lisa Friedman

The New York Times

July 22, 2024

Vice President Kamala Harris has for years made the environment a top concern, from prosecuting polluters as California’s attorney general to sponsoring the Green New Deal as a senator to casting the tiebreaking vote as vice president for the 2022 Inflation Reduction Act, the largest climate investment in United States history.

As she runs for the White House, Ms. Harris is widely expected to try to protect the climate achievements of the Biden administration, a position that could resonate with voters during a summer of record heat. A clear majority of Americans, 65 percent, wants the country to focus on increasing solar, wind and other renewable energy and not fossil fuels, according to a May survey by the Pew Research Center.

Last year, Ms. Harris flew to the United Nations global climate summit in Dubai, United Arab Emirates, where she told world leaders that “the urgency of this moment is clear. The clock is no longer just ticking, it is banging. And we must make up for lost time.”

That was a subtle reference to former President Donald J. Trump, who made the United States the first and only country to withdraw from the global Paris Agreement to limit greenhouse gas emissions. (The United States subsequently rejoined under President Biden.) The Republican nominee in the current race for the White House, Mr. Trump has indicated that he would again pull back from the global fight against climate change if he is elected in November.

“Around the world, there are those who seek to slow or stop our progress, leaders who deny climate science, delay climate action, and spread misinformation,” Ms. Harris said at the summit. “In the face of their resistance and in the context of this moment, we must do more.”

Republicans have targeted the Inflation Reduction Act, promising to overturn it if they win control of Congress and the White House. That law pumps more than $370 billion over 10 years into wind, solar, batteries and electric vehicles. It is designed to help the country move away from fossil fuels, the burning of which is driving up global temperatures. At their convention last week, Republicans promised to halt any transition away from oil, gas and coal, and to promote more fossil fuel development.

Asked if Ms. Harris would pursue the policies she supported as a senator, like the Green New Deal, her climate adviser, Ike Irby, said she would focus on implementing the Inflation Reduction Act, which she helped to pass.

“She will fight every day for all Americans to have access to clean air, clean water, and a healthy environment,” Gina McCarthy, who served as national climate adviser under Mr. Biden, said in a statement Sunday. “Vice President Harris would kick ass against Trump.”

The vice president incorporated climate change into foreign relations, holding a round table in Bangkok to connect environmental activists with clean energy experts and starting a partnership with Caribbean countries to address climate change.

As a senator from California, the state that is at the forefront of climate policy, Ms. Harris promoted electrifying school buses to reduce greenhouse gases and to cut children's exposure to diesel engine pollution. She also supported efforts to replace lead water pipes and promoted measures to help agriculture become more resilient to drought.

But she also took positions far to the left of Mr. Biden on climate change.

She was an original co-sponsor of the Green New Deal, a nonbinding resolution supported by liberal Democrats that called for the United States to transition to 100 percent clean energy within a decade while providing people with job guarantees and “high-quality health care.” The measure never got out of committee.

When Ms. Harris ran for president in 2020, her climate plan called for a $10 trillion increase in spending over a decade as well as a price on carbon, with a dividend that would have been returned directly to households. Economists have said that a carbon tax would be the most effective way to get industries to reduce their pollution.

She also favored a ban on hydraulic fracturing, known as fracking, which Mr. Biden said he opposed. Fracking is a technique that injects water and chemicals underground at high pressure to extract oil or gas that is otherwise difficult to access. Environmentalists say it pollutes the air and groundwater. California regulators have taken steps to ban fracking.

As California’s attorney general, Ms. Harris challenged federal approvals of offshore fracking along the California coast. She investigated whether Exxon Mobil lied to the public and its shareholders about the risks to its business from climate change, and whether such actions could amount to securities fraud and violations of environmental laws, but the case did not result in a prosecution.

She would later claim during a Democratic forum on climate change in 2019 that she had sued Exxon Mobil, which fact checkers reported as untrue. She did obtain settlements from other oil and gas companies, including Chevron and BP, over allegations that they violated pollution laws.

In 2019, Ms. Harris joined Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Democrat of New York, to introduce legislation that would require the government to consider the impact of environmental regulations or laws on low-income communities, which tend to be disproportionately vulnerable to climate disruption because they are often located in flood zones, near highways, power plants and polluted land.

As vice president, Ms. Harris does not use the phrase “Green New Deal,” which has been relentlessly mocked by conservatives, who use it as shorthand for all climate and clean energy policies.

Her Republican opponents are not likely to let her forget it, though.

“During her ill-fated and short-lived 2020 presidential campaign, Harris was an early and enthusiastic supporter of the Green New Deal and called for so-called ‘carbon neutrality’ by 2030, all of it with a $10 trillion price tag,” Daniel Turner, executive director of Power The Future, a group that advocates for fossil fuels, said in a statement.

He called Ms. Harris part of the “climate cult that calls the shots in today’s Democratic Party.”

Evergreen Action, an environmental group, endorsed Ms. Harris on Sunday. The youth-led Sunrise Movement, which last week called on Mr. Biden to end his bid for re-election, praised his decision to step away. The group did not directly endorse Ms. Harris but said any replacement must “put forth a bold vision to tackle the climate crisis and fight for our generation.”

Other organizations said they were holding back an endorsement until the Democratic nomination process is completed.

Article share from The New York Times.

#kamala harris #2024 presidential race #environment #green new deal #net zero #sunrise movement #fossil fuels #big oil #climate change #climate crisis

40 notes · View notes