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#now that i'm an adult with a job and am taking care of my own business they don't punish me anymore
robinsnest2111 · 2 months
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always fun whenever I bring up an anecdote from my childhood and it turns out it wasn't an anecdote, but actually recounting an apparently traumatic event. at least according to the people I tell the anecdote to.
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hohuios · 10 months
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Tag drop: 1/2
#[ ooc. ] marconi plays the mamba; listen to the radio. don't you remember? we built this city. we built this city on rock and roll.#[ ic. ] beginnings always end. that's the rule. it may be sad but looking gloomy just 'cause it's the end isn't my thing.#[ answered: ic. ] cash up front? this i like. the water needs turning on and those toilets need flushing.#[ answered: ooc. ] 'not gonna die' my ass. that bitch slap nearly killed me.#[ psa. ] it's not about loss. strength is a choice: fighting like hell to protect what's important.#[ saved. ] keep it. / i thought it meant a lot to you? / that's the only kind of gift worth giving. i want to entrust it to you; so i am.#[ prompts / memes. ] whatever. i don't really care. i'm just gonna sit this one out.#[ crack. ] perfect timing. the rest of this show is adults only.#[ salt. ] you can hide that body but that smell... hoo! there's no covering that up.#[ et cetera. ] what do you think after looking at your father's image? / it's like staring into a backed up toilet.#[ self promotion. ] it was your idea to work apart wasn't it? / are you pouting? maybe you're lonely being all on your own.#[ promotions. ] i'm impressed! those are two of the most badass women in the world. i only know one other guy who can defeat them.#[ v: dmc1. ] those eyes... deep in them i see the same light as in sparda's eyes. / why my mother?#[ v: tas. ] didn't you hear me? i'm studying. i may take the odd job here and there; but i've got on desire to babysit some brat.#[ v: dmc2. ] a false coin for a false god.#[ v: dmc3. ] and now my soul is saying it wants to stop you. / unfortunately… our souls are at odds; brother.#[ v: dmc4. ] well; if the kid screws up. then i'll just have to kick his ass.#[ v: dmc5. ] this is… special. / special? okay. / this demon is your reason. your reason for fighting.
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morganitering · 5 months
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Because I'm the Weakest
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Pairing: yandere!Satosugu x fem!reader
Warnings: Rape/non-con, Dead dove, darkfic, dissociation, trauma, rape fantasy, rape aftermath, vomiting (not during sex), unhealthy relationships, non-consensual drug usage, drugged sex, canon typical violence, sexism, implied/referenced alcohol usage/abuse
Contains: F/M/M, spitroasting, oral sex, penis in vagina sex, blow jobs, face-sitting, come play, overstimulation, voyeurism, slight size kink, humiliation/degradation, vaginal fingering, mentioned Nanami.
Word count: ~6,5k
Summary: Growing up as a female sorcerer has not been easy, especially when you are overshadowed by two prodigies. You used to form a tight-knit friend group, but now in adulthood everyone battled their own demons whether it be a god complex or feelings of inferiority. Gojo Satoru revives a group chat that was almost long forgotten, inviting you and his boyfriend for a long weekend, just like the old days. Before the regrettable night, you wouldn't have ever thought that you'd need to raise a fist against a friend.
A/N: Hey everyone, another fic but this time featuring our two favorite dudes with insanity turned to the max. This fic is once again full of warnings and proceed with caution and read the tags! Remember to take care of yourself. Otherwise enjoy and feel free to like and comment <3
read on ao3 PART II
“Booring,” Satoru complained audibly as he looked through the streaming services’ different movies and series. The little icons changed from bombshell babes to twisted faces with titles written in blood. He was sprawled over the corner of a ridiculously huge couch and he was wiggling his foot as a nervous tick of his. He wasn’t wearing his usual garb, instead he had opted for something more relaxed and comfortable.
“If you’re so bored you should help us out in the kitchen,” Suguru sighed, his black hair draping over his shoulders, still slightly wet from the shower he had taken earlier. When you had pointed out that he was leaving droplets of water everywhere where he went, Suguru had just smiled at you and told you that it’s better for hair to air dry.
He held a knife in his right hand and the other one held onto a cucumber to keep it in place. His fingers were slender but by no means unmanly. Suguru wasn’t too fixated on the vegetable in front of him, chopping away with confidence only experience would provide.
“And where would the fun be in that since I got you two as my private chefs?” Satoru pouted as he shoveled candy in his face.
“You’re going to lose your appetite, if you eat candy now,” you chimed in, poking the halloumi that kept on sizzling on the pan. The water evaporated in a mist that warmed your cheeks in the cool apartment. It wasn’t actually cold in the open plan kitchen, but you had spent long enough in front of the appliances to break a sweat.
“I’d eat it anyway,” the white haired man whined as he got up from the couch finally settling on a tv series that started playing mindlessly in the background. “So, what am I supposed to do?” He asked after grabbing a piece of pomegranate from a small see through bowl. He walked behind you both like a shark, eyeing the ingredients and you, uncomfortably close.
“Set the table and learn to bitch less,” you joked.
“You wound me,” Satoru said, feigning sadness, but did as he was told.
The three of you were residing in an apartment that Satoru had bought himself from one of the skyscrapers surrounding Tokyo. After Jujutsu High it had gotten increasingly hard for the three of you to meet as adult responsibilities weighed heavily on both of their shoulders, – especially Satoru’s, but you saw the similar pain carried in Suguru just as well.
You were not weak, but you could not compare to the two prodigies. On the days when you felt down, the pain of third wheeling constantly ate you up, sometimes so much so that you rather left the two men talking together in the group chat. It furthered the wedge between you and them, until the messages became sparse and you almost could pretend not to know them.
It had been six months since the last time you met, but one day Satoru broke the silence and a notification popped up from your shared chat. It had taken you by a surprise, you were vaguely aware that even him and Suguru had issues with fitting each other in their lives, due to individual missions and what not. So the fact that Satoru decided to deliberately send a message to you as well, got you anxiously excited. He reached out to you. You. A high school friend that barely kept in touch with him.
“Guys! I refuse to work this weekend so come to my place. Let’s have a get together like the good old times ❤️ ❤️?? A little sleepover if you will!”
“Lol what about the higher ups?” Suguru had asked, typing back way too fast.
“Actually never mind I don’t want to be made into an accomplice in your crimes,” Suguru had continued.
“Am I invited too?” You had asked, hands shaking slightly as you stared at the bright screen, already tucked into bed. It was late, but Satoru was a known night owl.
“Damn, what have I done to earn this type of reputation 😭” Satoru complained, reacting to both your and Suguru’s message. You could hear his voice as if he was there in the same room as you.
“Of course you are invited, silly. I wouldn’t send this here if you weren’t.”
So now you were there, living an almost ridiculously domestic life with the couple that you had been hanging out with ever since you were sixteen. They had not changed too much. They were still both tall and slender but years had rid them of the rest of the baby fat as they started to resemble more men than boys, vigorous fighting showing in their bodies in an ever gained muscle mass. You supposed you were the same too. Battle hardened. That’s the word you were looking for.
You were just about to sit down but you saw long limbs reaching out to the white chair pulling it backwards. You looked at Satoru with a raised eyebrow. He was acting weird.
“What? I’m a host. I’m being hospitable,” he said, voice melodic as he pressed his hand on your shoulder to pet your arm reassuringly a few times. Suguru laughed quietly as he sat down next to Satoru.
You ate and drank, buzzing with energy. It was like no time had passed and you wondered why did you ever stop talking to these two. After a drink or two you were brave enough to ask for some hot gossip. Like every high school friend, you went through old drama, like how ugly Nanami’s haircut used to be.
“Has Nanami found love yet?” You had asked. He seemed like the type to find a decent relationship first out of all of you, but to everyone’s surprise it was these two men.
“Do you still have a crush on him? I heard that he’s quite a looker nowadays” Suguru bounced a question back at you with a smile tugging on his lips. It was that one expression that looked a tad too kind.
“No, I don’t. I was just curious,” you tried to move on from the subject. You did not really discuss your relationship history with these two, at least not anymore.
“Why?” Suguru asked, leaning on the hand he had placed on the table. The atmosphere felt off, it was as if he was challenging you. You looked at Satoru who seemed to be equally as interested in your answer.
You scratched your neck awkwardly.
“I- I think he’s too soft,” you said blushing at the implication of your words. You had turned your gaze to your almost empty bowl, your mind going to improper places. As you were buried in your embarrassment, Satoru and Suguru shared a silent look with each other.
At some point during the evening you had moved to the white haired man’s bedroom. He wanted to show you the view from the window since he lived on the 30th floor. It was magnificent. The busy streets were bustling even during the night and you stared at the small lights that blinked in different colors. Your eyes followed the cars that swerved left and right as some people were gathered up in front of bars for a smoke break. You barely could make them out from the height you were in.
Satoru’s bedroom was basically the size of someone’s apartment. The bed was huge and sleek, unlike the common area. This room was a lot moodier and darker and it actually showed that he lived here, small bits and bobs decorating shelves and few paintings were hung up on the wall that you reckoned were Suguru’s taste.
Your drinks had changed from light cocktails to expensive red wine that you were almost scared to consume, but when Satoru saw hesitation in you he made a point to assure you that it’s all on him and after that almost instantaneously Suguru asked you something, leaving you no room to overthink.
The uneasiness still followed you. It was a gut feeling that you were really bad at listening to. You did not believe you were in danger – at least you’d like to think that as a jujutsu sorcerer you’d be trained to recognize threats by now. Luckily the red wine relaxed you, lulling you to the feeling of safety.
The volume of music was loud as the three of you listened to some throwback songs that still made you shamelessly want to dance. You were celebrating embarrassingly in Satoru’s room laughing, swaying your bodies along with the beat. It was as if you were in a club, except this was way more intimate. The world spinned around you, the warm lights mixed with the glimpses of the night sky and the longer outlines of your friends. You felt light, time slowing down and going overspeed at the same time as if you were alone on the highway. Your friends’ smiles stretched on their faces, eyes twinkling manically as both of the men appeared to you in double. Eventually when you tired each other out the whole group collapsed on the bed still humming happily. Satoru’s bed was plush and big enough to have room for the three of you.
You noted the way the silk felt like a warm hug underneath you, the ceiling moving like a slithering snake’s skin on savannah.
Satoru was lying on his back on the left side of you, his white hair now more tousled than before whereas Suguru was on the right leaving you in the middle of the two men.
“I think we should play a question game,” Satoru’s voice was bordering on a whisper. The music had stopped.
You stayed silent. “Satoru, I’m not feeling too good,” you managed to say. The bed was a ship and you were a passenger of the sea.
“I didn’t know you’re that lightweight,” Satoru’s hand reached out to your head to pet you, the gesture meant to lower your guards, but in your ever increasing discomfort, his touch only managed to make your skin tingle with aversion.
“Just humor us for a bit, it could be like the good old days, right?” Suguru argued, flashing a dead smile at you.
“Okay, whatever. Ask me something,” you rolled your eyes, too tired to fight them in your weird mental and physical stage.
“Hmm,” Satoru turned to his side to face you, his blue gaze piercing yours as you were still laying on your back. You had no idea when he had removed his sunglasses. You heard Suguru moving next to you as well. “What do you mean by Nanami being too soft?” The way Satoru laid down the question was impish.
The tone of the conversation had taken a full one-eighty and you opened your mouth to answer with only lies on the tip of your tongue, but then you decided against that. Those two had a very good bullshit radar.
“Do you want to hear what I think?” Satoru grinned playfully as he licked his plump lips once.
“I think Nanami would bore you out of your mind, missionary on Mondays without the lights on? Ugh, I wouldn’t want that for my worst enemy,” he said, laughter hollow full of malice. You couldn’t believe your own ears.
“I think you want it rough and behind that tough girl act, there’s an insatiable woman with some wild fantasies,” he blabbered his obscene thoughts. “Tell me, have you ever had sex with two men?” Gojo’s voice was loud and it was as if he was talking to you from a speaker that had been locked in another room. He was too close, too far away and simultaneously too here.
“What the-” you got cut off.
“Don’t curse. It’s unseemly from a woman,” Geto said calmly.
“Answer me,” Gojo demanded. During high school you would have described Gojo’s eyes as a beautiful spring day. You would have said that he reminded you of blue skies with perfectly white fluffy clouds, but now his eyes had turned to something much paler and darker. They reminded you of deep untouched snow drifts turned to blue in the moonlight as they sparkled ominously, waiting for the first little animal that dared to break the pristine condition.
“What did you do to me?” Your voice was not your own, it was weak, the accusation of your words turning dull as the red wine you had drank earlier sanded the edges away.
“Nothing permanent,” Geto said.
His admittance striked terror in you. Realization hit you, you were not safe here and you felt the familiar warmth flowing in you like a second nature. You manipulated the cursed energy, channeled it and let it flow steadily in your body guiding the power to your hands, but something in it felt unstable, it felt like a chord that was almost broken just barely connecting.
“Did you know that some drugs really affect the ability to use cursed energy? Not that it would matter in your case,” Geto explained, his voice overflowing around you, sticking to your skin like honey.
“Fuck you!” You yelled letting out a gust of wind to both sides, throwing the two men away from you. They landed nimbly to the floor, like cats, as you yourself hopped up from the bed, your vision blurred, walls moving back and forth, small figurines on the shelves changing color others dancing in front of your eye lids. Your head ached, pain banging against your skull, gnawing at the nerve endings that sent panic infused messages across your body, screaming: Stop moving!
“Oh so you want to spar? Go on then, show me what you have,” Geto purred.
It was a pathetic attempt in your current state. Your feet took you towards the door that Geto had come to protect. Hands and feet clashed together in close combat as you drew your cursed energy that was flickering unevenly in your body. Every time you got too close to escaping either Geto or Gojo kicked you further away.
The white haired bastard wasn’t even using his infinity which only added salt to your wounds. He deliberately chose to prance around you, letting you at times touch him a wild smile on his face. There was no cursed energy, no flashy techniques, just you and two overpowered men.
“Do you remember what they said in school when facing someone stronger than you?” Gojo asked, dodging your fist.
“Don’t be a hero,” Geto grabbed your arm and twisted it painfully behind you. “Contact someone better equipped to handle it,” he said and shoved you forwards with a force so great that you staggered towards Gojo’s table with the MacBook wobbling with force earning a “Hey, that’s my computer!” protest from the man himself.
The lights went out with a sound of shattering glass, leaving the three of you enveloped in the darkness, only city lights illuminating the room. Disorientated by the sudden change in environment you froze, breathing heavily as the two men practically surrounded you. Gojo appeared in front of you not a hair out of place.
“And with that, you’re dead. You really should not get distracted during training,” the white haired man shared his advice talking to you with the same tone he used on his pupils. “Truce?” He offered his hand.
You looked up. There was something sinister about the way they hovered over you. Geto’s beautiful prince-like features had turned harsh and angular, the shadows sharpening his face even more. You swallowed a bunch of bile, the effects of forcing yourself to move taking place.
“The power disparity is too big,” Geto said. He almost pitied you. You were a smart girl, you’d figure the best move soon.
You grabbed the hand bitterly. Gojo helped you up and Geto wrapped his arm around your waist when you were about to fall again.
“Careful,” he mumbled, his hand trailing underneath your shirt. His touch felt cold against your burning skin that was damp from sweat. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” he taunted.
“Take her shirt off. I’ve waited long enough,” Gojo said impatiently, tapping his foot on the floor.
“Always so demanding,” Geto chuckled as he worked your shirt up, unclasping your bra unceremoniously, your breasts now free for the two men to ogle.
“Perfect tits,” Gojo said as he pawed at you and played with your nipples. You were completely overwhelmed and out of energy. Luckily, you did not have to stand on your own as Geto helped you to stay up his hands unzipping your jeans.
“Why me?” You squeaked your head drooping in defeat as you looked at Geto’s hand that vanished underneath your panties, your trousers still on you. Your question went unanswered.
“Satoru I think you might have been right about your theory,” You felt Geto’s smile on your neck as he referenced the earlier conversation regarding Nanami.
“Really? Is she wet?” Gojo asked curiously.
“Soaking,” Geto said as he explored your soft folds with ease. “Did fighting us make you feel better about what’s going to happen? At least you can tell your friends that you did not break easy,” Geto mumbled onto your skin pressing kisses to your neck, his hand still working on you going up and down tantalizing on your slit.
Gojo dropped to his knees pulling down the rest of your clothes. A whimper left your mouth as you shook your head powerlessly.
“Lift her leg up,” Gojo instructed. Geto slid his hand behind your right knee, lifting it up till you were wobbling on one foot as you leaned on him for support. The white haired man had his lips slightly apart as he looked in awe at the sight unfolding in front of him. His mouth was watering as Geto maneuvered his hand back to your folds, spreading them in front of Gojo’s face so that his boyfriend could take a long hard look at everything you were offering.
You saw the gears turning in Gojo’s head as his expression turned to a mischievous one. “I want her to sit on my face,” he licked his lips and made his way to the bed, throwing the shirt on the floor.
“Can you move?” Geto asked as he let go of your leg, holding onto your trembling body. He tipped your head towards him, his face looking almost worried. It reminded you of the old times, but this was not the old Suguru. This was someone new. Twisted.
He helped you to the bed, where Gojo had been waiting, completely naked, his chest heaving in anticipation. Your eyes scanned him from head to toe, stopping at his cock that had already started to curve upwards. It already looked big, bigger than anything you had ever taken.
“Like what you see baby? Cause me too,” Gojo said jokingly. “Well, come here then or do you want to fuck us dry? Because I’m fine with that,” he hurried you, the threat looming over you.
You climbed on top of him, saddling his face. Gojo’s hands immediately grabbed at your ass, pulling you towards his mouth. You could imagine the pink tip of his tongue trying out where you were the most sensitive. He was too impatient to tease you, quickly finding the bundle of nerves that was begging for his attention. He lapped at it as obscenely wet noises filled the room. Gojo sucked on your clit and you moaned loudly, throwing your head back, a sheen layer of sweat on you.
You felt him hum into your cunt as you felt the weight shift behind you on the mattress, Geto’s hand moving on Satoru’s length, pumping it roughly.
“You see, Satoru here is a bit of a munch. He is loud during the day, but put a cock in his mouth and it works wonders at silencing him. Apparently he likes the taste of pussy too,” Geto said with a devious smile on his lips. Gojo groaned animalistically into your wet heat as the black haired man felt his own hardness straining against his boxers. It took everything in his power to not to take off his clothes and fuck you till you were cock drunk and babbling incoherently, but he had too much fun playing with you.
“How does it feel like having the strongest sorcerer lapping you up like a regular man?” Geto’s voice was just a hush in your ear. “Men and women around the globe are going to be jealous when they hear that Gojo Satoru wanted to stick his dick in you,” Geto taunted you both as his hand focused on rotating around Satoru’s tip, spreading out the drops of precome around his cock. Satoru bucked his hips up involuntarily.
You came. Hard. You thrashed around Gojo’s head as the man between your legs held onto you stubbornly, licking and sucking through your orgasm. You felt something warm trickling straight to his face as the pressure in the lower half of your body exploded. Your voice was high pitched and desperate as you rode his face till you were sore, your already weak legs giving out.
Gojo pushed you off of him, gasping for air, pupils blown out in arousal. His face glistened in your juices and his saliva.
“You know what, for a man who’s shaming me for being talkative, you sure speak a lot yourself Suguru,” he pointed out. Suguru laughed, honest to god laughed, his eyes squinting contently as Satoru pulled him into a kiss.
There was something incredibly erotic watching the two men, knowing that Geto would taste the remnants of you as their lips smacked together messily. Their bodies tangled together, black hair flowing around white as Gojo buried his hand in Geto’s luscious strands. Gojo pulled his boyfriend’s face up gently exposing the bobbing Adam's apple that he kissed reverently. It was now Geto’s turn to saddle Gojo.
“I think you need to take your clothes off. Give her a little show,” Satoru said, biting into the skin on Suguru’s clavicle as his hands fumbled with the black haired man’s belt that opened with a clink.
Geto pulled his black t-shirt over his head, his taut muscles flexing. It felt like forever when Gojo caressed the man on top of him, his face in a constant grin. He took down the boxers inch by inch until Geto’s cock sprang out after being suppressed inside his clothes for too long.
“Get on fours,” Gojo ordered as you clumsily did what he told you to. He moved behind you whereas Geto took place in front of you.
“Arch your back.”
You stretched yourself, lowering your torso and propping your butt up almost as if you were offering yourself on a silver platter. Gojo’s hand came down to your ass with force making your body jerk when he dug his nails on the soft skin.
“Wow, you must fuck a lot of dudes judging by how low you can go. If I knew you were a whore, I would have bent you over earlier,” he laughed, his finger prodding on your entrance.
Geto pulled you from your hair. It wasn’t the nice kind of pain that came when one would grab them near the scalp; instead it stung like hell, when Geto yanked your head up, putting you on the perfect level of his cock.
Gojo inserted one finger simultaneously inside you and almost immediately added another. You whined as his fingers scissored you open, your lips almost touching the head of Geto.
“You know, I get to lie with this amazing man every day. Show him the same respect as I do,” Gojo said. Had you not been caught up in their fucked up power play, their love for each other would have truly warmed your heart.
Geto’s thumb stroked your cheek as if to apologize for what was about to happen. He let his hand trail down to your bottom lip, swiping across it gently.
“Open.”
Satoru pushed his hand almost knuckles deep into you, a guttural moan making its escape from your lips as he used his hand to finger fuck you. Geto used your opening mouth to his advantage to stuff his cock in you. He was huge, your jaw already hurting. His tangy taste spreaded in your mouth as he softly rocked back and forth, not wanting to choke you just yet.
You hollowed out your cheeks and focused on the tip of his cock as you used one of your hands to touch what you could not fit. Geto’s eyes were half lidded as he guided your head to a rhythm that he liked as you squirmed underneath Gojo’s touch.
Gojo removed his hand from you leaving you empty, you almost missed the sensation of him, but soon felt the man behind you poking your folds with something much bigger than his fingers. You mewled in panic when he entered you, your eyes widening in shock. God he was huge.
“Focus. Eyes up here,” Geto said, patting your cheek with an open palm. The way you looked up at him made Suguru feel close to high, your pupils widened to the size of a plate, eyes glistening in tears that you held back, still holding onto a sliver of pride. Brave girl, he thought to himself.
Gojo fucked you sloppily, squelching, slapping and your gurgling filling the room as both the men used your body to chase their own highs. You felt like you were drowning and when one withdrew the other one rammed into you without a second thought. It was hard to keep your attention on Geto when his boyfriend did everything in his power to make your task at hand challenging, when his long cock grazed upon that one spot inside you from time to time.
“I’m going to finish in your mouth,” Geto was out of breath, his grip tightened around your skull. Gojo groaned behind you with his fingers digging into your hips. You were sure that you’d have handprints tattooed on your skin by the end of this night.
Geto’s movement got erratic, his cock hitting the back of your throat making you gag around him painfully. The black haired man relished in the wet warmth your mouth provided him. He was panting as pleasure coursed through him, your despaired moans only driving him further. Hot stripes of his come coated your mouth. You wanted to spit it out, or swallow it, anything to get rid of it as your face soured in disgust.
“Keep it in your mouth,” he advised as he pulled out of you. You almost wanted to spit it on his face as an act of defiance. Geto smiled at the confrontational look on your face as if he knew what you were thinking. “Good girl,” he purred when you had decided not to go against him.
Gojo flipped you quickly around to lie on your back, your legs floating in the air awkwardly as he entered back into you swiftly. He pulled you in a feverish kiss, his soft lips slightly swollen. His tongue prodded inside your mouth, Suguru’s come spreading into his mouth as you explored each other. It felt disgusting, playing with someone’s fluids like this, but somehow it made your cunt clench around your white haired high school friend.
There was something deeply primal in the way Gojo drove into you, his head almost resting on yours as he fucked you deep and hard. You were vaguely aware of Geto’s eyes following the act in front of him, admiring the way Satoru’s muscles moved with every move, drinking up the disheveled look on you.
Satoru’s hips came to halt as he plastered his seed on your walls, making sure that he wasn’t too deep, keeping his thrusts shallow enough so he could see him leaking out of your used cunt.
“Fuck,” he breathed out, spent, the after glow warming him. “You didn’t come right?” He asked you, feeling slightly tired.
“No, but it doesn’t matter,” you rasped out your throat feeling hoarse after the abuse it had taken. Frankly you wanted to sleep as well.
“Suguru, can you help her out? I want to watch,” Gojo said as he fluffed the pillow underneath him to get into a comfortable position as if he was about to open the television and watch his favorite show.
“If you hold onto her other leg,” he said as he propped your left leg around his waist and Gojo took hold of your right one. You were helpless and unable to protect yourself when you tried to squirm away from the two devious men.
Geto’s nimble fingers gathered up Satoru’s come that was trickling down between your cheeks. He pushed it back inside you, moving his fingers slowly without a hurry in the world. It reminded you of the calm before a storm.
“You’re going to give us one more right?” Geto’s voice was reassured when he added another finger into you, thumb trailing to your sensitive clit. He knew just what to do, to get you fast back to the edge that you were teetering on earlier, already feeling overstimulated from the rough treatment you had gotten. His fingers made a come-hither movement hitting precisely your g-spot.
Gojo held onto you whispering sweet nothings to your ear, his thumb caressing your thigh. He was gentle, his touch light, eyes half lidded as he enjoyed the small whimpers coming from your mouth. He spoke to you, told you how much he had wanted you from the beginning. He spoke of how he saw that you wanted him – them. Gojo let you know how well you were doing, taking what they dished out to you, how you were brave and oh so good. He attempted to bury you in his twisted love, six feet underground, anxiety and arousal covering Geto’s fingers.
It was too overwhelming. Gojo next to you, Geto between your legs, your world still spinning around you, overstimulating touch and a coil about to snap. You wailed hollowly as you came apart on Suguru’s fingers one last time.
***
It was deep in the night, around two AM to be precise. You had shot your eyes open as the wave of nausea hit you. The two men had fallen asleep cuddling each other, limbs tangled on each other. You got up as quickly as you could, your head ache punishing you from your choices, stomach churning dangerously.
With a pitter patter from your naked feet, you carried yourself to the extravagant bathroom, barely having time to put the lights on as your nausea took over.
You doubled over the toilet seat, emptying your stomach of your earlier dinner and whatever else your friends had slipped in your drink. You held onto your hair desperately trying not to make a mess. A warm hand landed on your fist bunching up the rest of your hair gently.
“It’s okay. I’m here,” Suguru said affectionately, stroking your head. “Let it all out. You’re going to feel better soon.”
The acidic taste filled your mouth once again as if it was reacting to Suguru’s company. Your body forced you to throw up stomach fluids after having nothing else in it.
The way he took care of you brought up memories of the times you had taken one too many drinks, after your partner of that time had broken up with you. You remembered the way he had held you crying, snot and tears covering his shirt as you broke down.
The sound of water pouring into a glass echoed on the walls and you heard the rattle of an ice drawer disturbing the silence.
“You should drink this,” Satoru showed up leaning on the door frame, offering the glass to you. You hesitated.
“It’s just water.” He said and took a sip as if it would prove you anything. “See?”
You grabbed it from his hand, when you decided that you didn’t care anymore, downing the entire glass in almost one swing. The cold scraped your tender throat punishingly. You should have drank more slowly.
Waking up after the night had turned to day, the windows no longer covered by the blinds. You did not remember a lot of the act, except vomiting, but that came afterwards. The city was already moving fast, a new day offering new opportunities and new exciting journeys.
You felt physically a lot better, still weird, but you no longer felt like collapsing to the ground nor did you see things twice. It was almost like you had a hangover. You looked around Gojo’s room rolling on the bed that was empty feeling relieved of having space.
There were still signs of yesterday's fighting, but random shards had been taken care of and the lightbulb changed into a working one. You had your own pajamas on you, not having the slightest idea when and how you got into your clothes. Feeling nervous you got out of the bedroom walking to the toilet to empty your bladder. As you wiped, you felt around your crotch, searching for the remainder of different body fluids. You had cleaned yourself up. Or someone had.
You washed your hands, scrubbing them together with fervor, pumping out a heap of soap on your palm.
You repeated it once.
Twice.
Until your skin was scrubbed dry.
You looked at yourself in the mirror just to see familiar features, but not anyone you could recognize. You opened the overnight bag that you had left on the side of the sink to brush your teeth and spit out the foaming toothpaste. A smell of dough frying on the pan wafted to your nose as you heard commotion from the kitchen.
You took steps to the living room to find Suguru in front of the stove flipping pancakes as Satoru was hunched over a pile of strawberries nibbling on them happily. Upbeat rock played in the background as the two men joked around and chatted. You stared at them, something seething in you.
“Good morning! We’re making brunch,” Suguru exclaimed as he flipped a pancake over “Do you want coffee or tea?”
Nails bit into your skin as you clenched your fists together hard, your knuckles turning to white as anger turned on like a switch. You wanted to rage, go absolutely berserker, throw things at them, scream how dare you over and over. Some part of you also wanted to forget the night, pretend that it’s a nightmare, sit down with them to eat some fucking brunch.
“What if I tell someone,” it wasn’t really a question that you wanted them to answer.
“And what would you achieve with that?” Gojo retorted, popping a ridiculously big strawberry in his mouth, leaving the green stem outside as he bit down, the trash floating to the table.
Suguru placed the now ready pancake onto the white plate. He grabbed the black ladle to pour more mixture on the warm pan, before he started speaking calm but collected. It was this matter of fact tone that he used as if he was disappointed in your stupidity since he was always speaking the truth. The audacity of men or something like that.
“You know first hand how some clans look down on women, not believing that women should be sorcerers in the first place. So how do you think these powerful people are going to react to you saying that two of the strongest sorcerers assaulted you?” He mused, the conversation reminding you of ethics class where people discussed your human rights as a starter dish, completely disregarding that they were talking about real lives.
You knew how those types of people would react. They would see it only as normal, a woman’s place as a breeding machine, your sorcerer blood and womb more precious than your soul. They would argue that you were lucky or maybe that you had asked for it. Besides, it wasn’t exactly atypical of people in your line of work going insane, the trail of dead comrades keeping one up for countless nights. And who better to take anger out on than the people who are perceived as less.
“Even if they did believe you, it wouldn’t change our life at all. They need our skills and well, his money,” Suguru continued as Satoru grabbed three coffee cups and placed them on the kitchen island. As if, you were staying. “It would change yours though.”
That’s when realization hit you. They were the type of evil that were completely aware of their sins. They knew exactly what was right and wrong, but they simply did not care, the world as their oyster.
“You’re insane,” a tear rolled down your eye, your body trembling like a leaf.
“Not denying that one,” Satoru quipped, not taking anything serious like usual.
“If you want to, you can leave. You are free to run your mouth however you want, block our numbers, whatever makes you sleep better. Or you can eat some pancakes as friends and have powerful allies for the rest of your life,” Geto said. “I’ll ask again, coffee or tea?”
You bit your lip as the conflicted emotions flashed through your face. You despised that you viewed them still as your friends as much as your enemies. It was weird to love someone who had hurt you in one of the most violating ways possible.
“Coffee,” you mumbled as you sat down on the bar stool hanging your hands on your sides as Suguru poured the dark liquid on the blue cup.
“We got you Plan B too,” Satoru said, throwing the cardboard box into your hands. “You should take it. I’m not ready to be a father,” he added.
You fumbled the package open, popping out the small pill on your hand. You didn’t know how they knew that you weren’t on birth control nor did you really care. You placed the tablet on your tongue taking generous gulps of water as the couple continued on cooking.
Music played as the sun shone brighter, lighting up the whole kitchen, furniture basking up in the natural glow. You ate in peace, mainly Satoru and Suguru talking together but every once in a while you added something in the conversation. You fell quickly back to the old habits, maybe at times chuckling at their stupid jokes.
You pushed away the night. You tucked it in a corner of your mind that you did not dare to look at for many weeks to come. You were just three old high school buddies catching up, nothing more. The flashbacks you saw were not yours and the long weekend continued on as a happy sleep over.
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mncxbe · 2 months
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𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: reference post; @soullessfyodor here's my take on Fyodor with a guardian angel♡// ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: delulu, Fyodor's a bit manipulative + has a God complex, dubious relationship between them, possibly inaccurate biblical lore
he knows you're there, knows you exist. growing up in a religious family, he's always been told that his guardian angel was watching over him, making sure he was safe from any danger. but trying to interact with you never actually occurred to him
you showed yourself to him for the first time when he was around ten. he'd caught a terrible flu and his already weak body could barely handle it. so you did your job, you healed him and ever since you visited him more and more often
it was against the rules but what could you do? he was a quiet kid, a bit too intelligent for his own good and you just had a feeling that there was something wrong with him
your suspicions were confirmed once he started joining different criminal organizations. you tried to keep him on a straight path but there wasn't much you could do to change his resolve
"Don't worry, my dear angel, I am quite certain that the purity of my soul is untainted." he smiled as he packed his few belongings in a suitcase.
"I'm begging you, Fyodor. Don't go to Japan it's a bad idea–" you protested but he wouldn't have it.
"I'm not keen on using this argument but I am an adult now, angel. I can make my own decisions"
"You're still acting like a kid" you huffed, fluffing your wings, causing a few feathers to fall on the bed covers. Fyodor chuckled, gently seizing your chin "And you're still acting like my mother. There's no need for you to be so concerned for me"
ever since Fyodor moved to Japan to pursue his plans the relationship between you changed. Fyodor became more secretive, but you still didn't give up on your routine– every night, Fyodor played the cello for you or read you a few pages of his book. those were his little ways of showing you his gratitude for always being there for him
after a few months you could sense a deeper change. he barely talked to you about his plans and every time you tried to voice your concerns he deflected
"My, my, angel. I told you before there's no reason to worry about me." smiled the man, motioning you to join him in bed.
"I'm serious, Fyodor. I can't keep covering up for you. You're killing people don't you realize your actions have consequences for me? And for you too" Fyodor simply laughed, pulling you next to him as he traced the outline of your wings with his fingertips "Am I upsetting the higher ups?" You nodded and his grin widened. Cupping your face with his free hand, Fyodor brought you closer to him.
"Why should I care about that, my dear? After all, I am a God myself, aren't I?" Before you could reply Fyodor placed a kiss to the corner of your lips"You know I'm right."
"You shouldn't say such things"
"You've let so many things slide, angel, I'm sure you can excuse some mild blasphemy"
and you did let it slide, and other things too. there were many things he should've been sanctioned for but you swept them under the rug– no matter what atrocious things he did you still believed he was the sweet Fyodor you once knew
it didn't take long until you lost your place among the angels and were sent to hell. call it divine judgement, or karma, but covering Fyodor's endeavours for so long did have a consequence
as a fallen angel you could still come to earth whenever you pleased but for a while you avoided Fyodor. you were mad he was cruel enough to let this happen. all of this could've been avoided if he would've just listened to you
still, it didn't take long for you to return to him. after spending so much time together you couldn't just ignore him. especially not when you could hear him calling out your name through the endless night in hell
"So, my angel, are you getting accustomed to your new home?" he taunted, his lithe fingers dancing along the cello's cords, his music echoing through the dim-lit room.
"Don't you dare joke about that" you hissed "How did you find out in the first place?"
"I figured, since you stopped visiting for a while..." Taking note of your silence Fyodor sighed, putting down his instrument "I do appreciate your sacrifice, angel. Your devotion is truly remarkable"
You scoffed again at his words, feeling your blood boil "You should be ashamed of yourself. You condemned me to a life in hell."
"You could always come and live with me. You're more than welcome in my humble home" he said in a honeyed vocie as he got up from his chair and moved towards you. He kneeled in front of the futon you were laying on and held your hand. "My dear angel, forgive me. If what I doing wasn't this important I would've given up on my goals. But it can't be helped"
You sighed, running your thumb along his knuckles "Such important plans yet you cannot tell me anything about them."
"Of course not" he smiled "Not now at least, but one day will come when I'll tell you everything. Until then, you'll have to trust me."
You remained silent for a while, a heavy tension settling between the two of you before he spoke again. "You lost your God and your status, but I assume you still have your powers."
"You're correct"
"Then stay by my side, look over me like you always have" The man rose to his feet and leaned closer to you, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear "I can give you a purpose. That's what you need, right?"
"So you're asking me to taint my soul even more? To give up on my principles, on everything."
"You were already deemed a sinner, my angel. You've fallen. I'm offering you a way to rise back up– a new god, a new purpose." Striaghtening his back, he bowed, holding a hand in front of you. "So what do you say?"
You weren't stupid– it was obvious what Fyodor was after. He just needed your powers to keep him alive. You were just another tool, another pawn. But it was the best deal you could've asked for, so you hesitantly accepted his hand. Fyodor smiled, helping you up from the couch before he placed a tender kiss to the back of your hand.
"You and I, my dear, are going to accomplish great things together"
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gardens-light · 9 months
Text
Finding Peace
Taking shelter in an abandoned petrol station, tension builds between you and your family. As blame and arguments raise- not like you didn't feel guilty enough already. You didn't ask for this- any of this! You just wanted to help Optimus. And it's not like the Autobot leader didn't have problems of his own. Being hunted down by humans for reasons yet unknown was bad enough- but ignoring the yearning of his Spark has slowly become problematic. Occasionally shaking his helm attempting to get you out of his processors, trying to convince himself that a 'Sparkmate' was nothing but a romancide idea that the younger bots came up with. Or is it?...
Content: Minor coarse language. Event's take part in Transformers- Age of Extinction. (Leading to major spoilers in Part 4.) Optimus x Human F/Reader. Fluff. (Reader insert.)
Sparkmate Series- Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5
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"Well... on the bright side." Tessa's voice lowly spoke, while sitting upon a dusty bar. Playing with some fairy lights. "You two have finally met.."
"Where's he from?"
"I told you. He's a driver from Texas."
"Texas?" Cade scoffed at Tessa's words. "Where? Dublin, Texas? Shamrock, Texas? So why does he sound like a leprechaun?"
Shane's brows knitted together, as he leaned against the bar. "You'd get your ass kicked in Ireland for saying that."
"Well we're not in Ireland, Lucky Charms. We're in Texas." Cade's attention turned back onto Tessa. "So he drives? What's that supposed to mean? Like he drives for a living?"
"Yeah... at least he makes a living."
Tessa's words caused Cade to fall silent. His eyes flickering up to you, frowning as you tried to avoid him.
"How old are you?" Cade challenged, approaching Shane.
"Twenty."
"And my daughter is seventeen. So as far as I'm concerned, this can go two ways." Cade leaned on the other side of the bar, glaring at Shane. "One, I punch you in the mouth right here, right now. And you call the police on me."
"Dad!-"
"Or two. I just call the cops on you because this is illegal. She's a minor!"
Steady... Steady... your thoughts wandered, while trying to focus on making a 'house of cards' out of beer coasters.
"We're protected by the 'Romeo and Juliet laws'-"
"We dated for a little while." Tessa explained, cutting Shane off. "I was a sophomore, and he was a senior. It's fine."
"We've got a pre-existing juvenile foundational relationship. Statute 2705-3." Shane took out his wallet, showing Cade the small card stating the law. "We're above board."
Cade sighed, "Romeo and Juliet, huh? Do you know how they ended up?"
Just... one more coaster...
"In love-"
"Dead." Cade turned to you. "And you, Y/N?"
Shit...
An unamused expression fell across your features as the coasters came tumbling down.
"Don't look at me like that, young lady. How long have you known about this?"
Cade rubbed his temples as you silently responded with a small shrug. "Well tell me. Days? Weeks?-"
"Months."
"Months...? And you didn't think that I would of wanted to know about this?-"
"Dad. Tessa is a full grown ass adult." You groaned. "She's capable of learning from a mistake or two."
"I trusted you. Both of you-"
"To what?" Tessa butted in. "Never have fun. Take a risk. Be a normal teenager like you?"
"I am your father, okay!" Cade firmly spoke, turning his attention onto Tessa. "And I've been busting my ass to take care of you and your sister!-"
"Oh so is that why I'm busting a gut trying to juggle two jobs?" You scoffed. "And here I thought, I'm the one who took care of this family."
"Is that what you were doing when you continued working on that damn truck?" Tessa spoke to you. A frown forming upon her lips, "all you had to do was report it.-"
"You know I couldn't do that-"
"And now we're forced into hiding. And my life is over! So 'thank you', Sis. You've taken 'real good' care us-"
"None of this would of happened! If you just kept your fucking mouth shut!-"
"Don't talk to your sister like that!" Cade stepped in.
"Sure Dad. Take her side... you always do."
"Y/N-"
"Look! I get it!" you raised onto your feet. "I know I'm 'the disappointment', 'the let down'-"
"Sweetie, I've never said that-"
Your eyes wandered over your dad's disappointed expression. "You didn't had to..."
---
Sitting upon the petrol stations' roof, the gentle breeze of the cool night air felt refreshing against your skin. Soft chirping of crickets eased your headache, your eyes gazing out into the dark empty road. The sound of small grunts and sighs caught your attention, briefly gazing over your shoulder. Rolling your eyes, once seeing Tessa struggling to climb the ladder with a mug in hand.
"What do you want?" you sighed, turning your attention back onto the road ahead.
"I thought- ouch!- that you could do with a hot drink."
The sound of the metal roofing warping and creaking, under Tessa's feet suddenly felt loud. As she approached you, taking a sit upon the roof's edge, leaving a small gap between you.
"I made your favourite." She kindly spoke, handing you the hot beverage. "I couldn't make it exactly to your liking, but it's the thought that counts. Right?"
Her weak smile faded as you remained silent. Speechlessly accepting the mug from her and holding it in your hands.
"You're not a disappointment." Tessa spoke after a brief hesitation. "For if it wasn't for you, we would of lost our home ages ago."
Tessa bit her lip before continuing, "I... did tell a friend about the truck. B-But I honestly didn't think he would believe me! If I knew- I wouldn't of..."
Your side glance caused her voice to trail off into silence.
"Well... what I'm trying to say... is that I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."
Sipping the hot beverage, feeling the gentle warmth fill you inside. Tessa followed your gaze, a small smile returning to her lips.
"You're worried about him. Aren't you?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"Yes." Tessa teased. "Like a lovesick girl."
You returned her smile, playfully pushing her away. "Oh shut up. You're talking nonsense, I'm just concerned about him. That's all."
"Uh-huh?" Tessa raised an eyebrow. Seeing a glimpse of you trying to hide a shy smile behind the mug.
"So... What's Dad doing?" you asked, trying to change the subject.
"Playing with some drone that he stole from the one of the guys. Dad's convinced that they would of truly killed us."
Tessa's heart sank as she watched you pull your legs close to your chest, hugging your knees a little while resting your mug against them.
"B-But that's just Dad's crazy thought." Tessa's guilt weighed on her heart a little more. Starting to wish she never said anything.
"Everything would of been fine, if only I watched what I was saying." You buried your head, resting your forehead against your knees and hiding your face. "I-If I didn't panic..."
"Shhh. Shhh." Tessa cooed, closing the gap between you. Placing her arm around your shoulders and resting her head against yours. "It's not your fault. You have a big heart, Y/N. Never be ashamed of that."
She gently pulled away, cupping your tearstained face and making you face her. "You are a rare treasure, and that Transformer better know that."
Finally smiling through your tears, Tessa rested her forehead against yours. The sound of a horn blaring in the distance broke the silence, while bright headlights burned the darkness away. You quickly raised onto your feet, causing Tessa to catch the falling mug while the hot beverage spilled onto the ground below.
You placed both hands against your chest, while gazing at the oncoming truck. Feeling it flutter with joy, as the sound of a faminular engine came to your ears.
Tessa rose onto her feet, giving you one last soft glance before leaving. A knowing smile forming upon her lips. You've got it bad...
Optimus carefully reduced his speed, as he walked out of his altmode. Trying to slow the pulsing rhythm of his spark as he approached you. Being mindful of each step he took, so it didn't appear like he was in a rush to be beside you again.
"Optimus..." your voice was low. Trying to hide the excitement within your tone.
"My deepest sympathies for your home." His soothing tone washed away the doubt and worries, that had been building up inside you. "And for leaving you so promptly. But I had to confirm we weren't followed."
You speechlessly nodded, trying to hold a relaxed expression as your eyes took in the sight of him.
Oh my...
Rust and dirt no longer coated his exterior, instead deep blue metal plates framed his chrome fisque, like pieces of armour. Your heart skipping a beat as your eyes wandered over him, taking in every detail of his broad shoulders and strong biceps.
Red flames danced across the gauntlets, but it was his torso you couldn't look away from. Your cheeks matched the warmth of Optimus' spark, as you gazed at his chest plate. Hands clutching onto your shirt, stopping the urge to reach out and run your fingertips over his toned form. Knowing that your touch wouldn't just stopped at that chromed waist of his.
"Loving the upgrade." Forcing the words out of your mouth, after swallowing your nerves.
Optimus got down on one knee, as you edged a little closer to the side of the roof. His blue optics studied you for a moment.
"You've been crying..."
Something inside him ached a little, as you temporarily turned away from him.
"It's nothing." You assured, brushing the dried tears off your cheeks. "I've just been... a little worried that's all."
"And I admittedly have been concerned about you."
That little sentence erupted butterflies in your stomach. Simply gazing up at him with wondering eyes.
How the stars sparkled in your eyes almost caused Optimus to choke on his own breath. Warmth begun to build beneath his metal plates, as his yearning spark called out for you.
His head tilted slightly as his scanners picked up something. Your body froze as he slightly hesitated before reaching out to you. Optimus' servo curled into a relaxed fist, your eyes peering down at it as he gently placed the knuckle of his index digit under your chin. While his thumb rested against your cheek.
His spark skipped a beat as a loving sigh slipped out of your mouth. Enjoying the cool touch of his metal against your soft skin.
Optimus carefully turned your head from side to side, studying your features. His scanners picking up the bruise that begun to form upon the bridge of your nose.
"That bastard hurt you." The small underlying anger within his tone caught you off guard. "I promise... I'll make him pay for what he's done to you."
"Optimus." You cooed, placing your hand on the back of his servo. Bringing it to the side of your face, resting your head against his digits.
His fans tried to push the warm air out of Optimus' vents, as the heat beneath his plates begun to build. His spark aching with a yearn he could no longer deny.
Closer... The word played on his processors. Causing him to fully kneel against the concrete ground, leaning in a little more.
Your loving eyes met the soft glow of his optics, as his servo slowly trailed down towards your waist. His thumb tracing the curves of your thighs, hips and waist.
The butterflies in your stomach tangled your nerves, your heart fluttering against your chest as a small gasp slipped from your lips. Eyes lingering over his features before closing, as you rested a hand against his chest plate.
As your heart matched the beat of Optimus' spark, syncing in harmony. A beautiful glow enveloped the pair of you, creating a warmth that made you almost forget about the world, as your lips ghosted over one another.
"Mr. Leader of the Free Galaxy is back!" an unknown mechanical voice caused you to quickly jump away from Optimus. "I knew you'd make it! I never doubted."
Crosshairs... Optimus' processors sighed. Trying to hide his disappointed expression as the leader faced his joyful Autobots. The sound of their roaring engines calming, before stepping out of their altmodes.
"We've got your warning." Drift greeted, "we've been waiting."
"Hell yeah! Boom time!" Hound cheered. "We've got the gang back together."
Drift tilted his head to the side, as his blue optics switched between you and Optimus. Smiling to himself as his processors picked up, the afterglow that slowly faded from the pair of you.
Optimus cleared his throat before speaking, "Autobots. The humans have asked us to play by their rules. Well... those rules have just changed."
"Humans, bunch of backstabbing weasels." Hound groaned, causing the ground to shake as he disarmed. Throwing heavy weaponries onto the floor.
"Hound, find your inner compass. Loyalty is nothing but a flower in the winds of fear and temptation."
Hound raised a brow at Drift's wise tone, "what the hell are you saying?"
The blue Autobot smiled, "it's a haiku-"
"Cut the crap! Before I drop a grenade down your throat."
You backed away from the edge of the roof, as Drift unsheathed his swords. "Try it" he challenged, "you'll be dead."
"Oh please do it." Hound taunted. "I wanna see you do it."
"You know what?" Bumblebee's radio buzzed, "it save us so much time."
Optimus gave you an unimpressed expression, as you gazed up at him, raising an eyebrow. A small chuckle left you as he speechlessly gestured to his Autobots. As to say, 'look what I have to put up with.'
"Well raise your hand, if you're thoroughly disenchanted with our little 'Earth vacation.'" Crosshairs spoke, while circling the petrol station. His green optics studying you, "so who's the spy?"
"Whoa! Whoa! Put those things away!" you yelped as Hound and Crosshairs immediately withdraw their guns, and pointing them at you.
"Stop, Hound! Both of you!" Optimus commanded, stepping in front of the building.
Both Autobots gave their leader a puzzled expression, as he continued. "Y/N, risked her life for mine. We owe her..."
Drift gave Bumblebee a playful nudge, discreetly pointing at you and Optimus. While Hound and Crosshairs briefly looked at one another, and turning their attention back onto their leader. Watching him stepping aside, and silently encouraging you to return to the roof's edge.
"Has there been... any sign of the others?" Optimus asked.
"No..." Hound sighed, withdrawing his weapon and settling himself upon the ground. "We're all that's left."
"They're picking us off, one by one!" Crosshairs explained.
"We're the pathetic, dirty foursome." Hound joked, "and you make five."
"Is this our best-case scenario?" Shane's teasing voice questioned you. Your eyes gazed at him, watching the Irishman climb onto the roof. "Autobot witness protection?"
"Hey Lucky Charms." you spoke, placing a hand upon your hips. "You're welcome to leave at anytime."
"Well, for the record, Super Sister. I'm not hiding with you." Shane gestured towards Optimus, "I'm hiding out with that big guy."
Tessa and Cade followed Shane's lead, as the three of them approached your side. All looking at the Autobots and they chatted among themselves.
"Sensei, with your fate unknown Bumblebee has held command." Drift's optics gazed at the yellow scout.
Bee fist bumped the air, while Drift rolled his optics. "Despite his complete and total lack of anything resembling warrior discipline."
An annoyed whirl weeze out of Bumblebee, as his optics narrowed on his comrade.
"He's like a child-"
"This 'child' is about to kick your ass!" Bee's radio buzzed. Landing the first hit against Drift's helm.
"Cage fight." Hound whispered to you, slightly leaning against the petrol stations' roof.
"What's the matter with them?" Tessa lowly asked, reaching out for your hand.
"They're on edge." You briefly explained, allowing her hand to slip into yours. "Who could blame them? They're being hunted."
"Am I the only one who sees through this puppy-dog act of yours?" Drift taunted Bee, while holding him in a headlock. "It's beneath you."
"Yes, I've been waiting for them all to dispatch each other." Crosshairs cheered. His servos gently clapping, "so I could take charge with no trouble at all. Just me. Reporting to me."
"Well, it sure looks like you've been missed." You said to Optimus.
"Autobots, humans are hunting us down. We need to know why."
"Listen..." Cade spoke, stepping towards Optimus. "I don't know why, but I might have an idea about who..."
---
"This drone I stole recorded footage of an Autobot raid." Cade explained.
You placed an affectionate hand upon Optimus' knee, as he sat cross-legged upon the floor. His servo clenching into a fist, as the dragonfly-like drone projected the video footage.
"It's in pieces, but watch what happens here." Cade pointed out, "they ripping them apart."
"That's Leadfoot." Hound spoke, as he placed a part of his helm over his spark. Feeling the saddened energy sink within his chest plates. "Savages."
"And later, this truck comes to haul him off to K.S.I. Kinetic Solutions." Cade continued. "They're creating defenses, aerospace, government contracts. They designed this drone."
"So these government guys are hunting you down, and then passing you of to this K.S.I?" Shane questioned.
"Do you know anything else?" Optimus asked.
"Only that their company headquarters is in Chicago." Cade spoke.
Perhaps... There's a chance of the Autobots being taken there. You thought.
"No way to get inside without a battle." Hound thought out loud.
"What if you had some human help?" everyone looked at you.
"Sweetie, no." Cade protested. "Besides, what are you two partners now?"
"Dad, we're targets now too." You spoke, feeling his worried stare on you. "We need to know why, or we'll never get our lives back."
"Y/N. You have done more than any of us could've asked for." Optimus kindly spoke. "I do not-"
"I'm coming." You gently argued. Seeing Tessa's encouraging smile from the corner of your eye.
"It's going to be dangerous." Drift warned, as he lend towards you.
The blue Autobot stiffed as you placed a comforting hand upon his knee. Giving him a warm smile, "you're important Optimus. Therefore, you're important to me.
A suttle warmth radiated from underneath Drift's metal plates.
"Autobots." Optimus spoke, as he raised onto his feet. "I have sworn to never kill humans."
"Big mistake." Hound mumbled
"But when I find out who's behind this. He's going to die..."
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itsmebytch001 · 10 months
Note
Yes, here I am asking myself shit beacuse I am loosing my mind.
(Not really)
Yan Dad Miguel X adpoted daughter who trises to keep out Miguel from his overbeaing love so she baracdes the door to her room????
Hello Me!!! (I'm not mad, just odd)
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Miguel Had snatched you out your own universe a few months ago, keeping you in his flat, under constant servelince with the only company you had was LYLA, she was fine but you needed somthing more than her, and Miguel.
When Miguel was home he was lovely, truly unsettling but lovely. He brought you presents like clothing, flowers, jewllery and books! He
would kiss you on your cheek (if You'd let him) and hold you tight.
And at this point Miguel had been gone for three days, LYLA had been good company, shown you films, played games with you, done some dress up all that. And to be honest, you dreaded the time Miguel, or Papa (he made you call him) would come back, it was supposed to be this afternoon, you had made dinner for the both of you as knew it was expected, plus he had been out for 3 days doing god knows what and he must have been tired after all that he should't have to cook for himself aswell.
Honestly you are beggining to feel like a platonic house wife.
Why should you cook, really? You don't owe him aything, he put you here! keeps you here like a dog, treats you like your mad whenever you call him out for how absurd this all is!! You are not his daughter, you are not an alt Gabi and yet he behaves as if you, and almost adult are just a quivering little leaf lost in the wind with out his fatherly guidence!!
The heavily secured door opens, and here you start again to grittedly smile at him as he enters, holding is arms out to you, expecting a hug.
Miguel: "Ahh Y/N! Iv'e missed you dear!
Y/N: "Hey Miguel"
He tiredly sighed and wagged his finger in your face.
Miguel: "Y/N we have been over this, It's Papa"
You turnded around back to the stove to pile up his food, rolling your eyes with your back to him.
Y/N: "Yes papa" You said as genuliey as you could, he bought it!
He sits at the table where you bring him his food, then your own as you sit infront of him acroos the small table, sulking to yourself, my god you were lonely, missing friends, work, your Mum. Miguel in the beggining would always press to you that a young girl having a fatherly mentor was good, so it was fine that he would just appear at your work to pick you, show up at your home to scould you for not cleaning your room, throw out your lunches to replace with the ones me had made for you beacuse his were more nutrious, that it was okay when your boss was being a dick that he then turned up at your work to beat his arse, it was all just his fatherly love!
Now you are here, alone, and trapped.
As you pick at your food he notices your unhappy face.
Miguel: "Mija, why the long face?"
Y/N: " I told you to stop calling me that"
Miguel; "Excuse me?"
Y/N: "I'm not your daughter, I'm not an alternative of your daughter, we aren't even blood!"
Miguel: "Y/n, don't be rude now, we may not be blood but we are family, and as your guardian It is my job to look after you"
Y/N: "Two things, My guardian is supposed to be my Mum, and This-*Gestures to sourdings* Is not taking care of me this is holding me hostage!"
Miguel appears irratated.
Migeul: "I put you here beacuse your mother is reckless, you are reckless! I knew That I could provide you with a batter life!"
Y/N: "THIS IS NOT A LIFE!" You yell throwing your hands up!
Y/N: "And how dare you talk about my fucking Mum! she tried, she was there, she supported me, and YOU just swooped me up, disreagted everything she did for me to sooth yourself for what you are now doing to me!"
Miguel: "ENOUGH!" he yelled slamming his hands down on the table, shaking it, though you ratinally knew he wouldn't hit you, that did't stop you being afraid.
Miguel: "Go to your room"
Y/N: "fuck you Miguel"
Miguel: "Go before I drag you!"
Y/N knew he was serious, so she went begrugged.
Slamming the door behind her, she heard Miguel from the bottom floor yell.
Miguel: "Don't you dare slam my doors in my fucking house!"
Y/N: "I AM NOT YOUR FUCKING GABIRELLA!"
You heard a smash...
Then a silence.
You know, ratinally it's out of cheacter for him to hit you he never would really, but your silly institcs come it.
...barracde the door.
so you did, with chair, a book shelf and a chest of draws the door is slealed.
About half a hour later you hear a soft knock, on the other side Miguel is leaning on the door, full of remorse.
Miguel: " Y/n, I'm s-Listen you were very rude down stairs but I shouldn,t have smashed anything, or swore at you"
You don't answer, you are to angry.
Miguel: "...Y/n?"
...
Miguel: "Answer me Mija"
How dare he call you that, again you think. You remain silent and you hear the door hanlde giggle.
Miguel: "ay, Mija open this door!"
Y/N: Please just go away!"
Miguel knew the door had no locking mechanism, you must put somthinh heavy infont of it.
Miguel: "Not before you open this door right now!"
He knows with his strengh he could really just bust though the door right now, but he wants you to open the door, he wants you to let him in, to him its proof you love him enough as your 'father' to allow him in.
Miguel: "Mij-"
Y/N: "Shut The FUCK UP!" You are so tired of that fucking title!
Miguel snaps, and bursts though the door in one fatal swoop.
The rubble of your bookshelf, chair's and other things clatter aroud your room smashed inot little spliters of wood. You cower on your bed, tucking away from him under a blanket like a little girl. As he body relaxes and he stand's all tall and looming like, he intiannly thinks he'll just yell at you, lecture you about rescepct and saftey for awhile and then cuddle you for awhile, hold you like a baby and carry you around.
But once he actually looked at you he saw how you turtled into yourself, shaking and crying, tensing even more as you heard him walk over to you. truly it saddned him to see you vulnarable, but also awoke a real fathery insticnt to comfort you.
laying on the bed with you he pulled you into him, cowering as he wrapped his arms arouund you, pulling you into his chest as he sighed into your hair.
Miguel: "I'm sorry My love, I'm sorry I scared you so, shhhhhh I say, It's okay, papa is sorry"
if it werent for how truly scared you are, you have told to fuck off again, but until then, all you could do is cry into miguels chest terrified as he tenderily stroked your head and back, shushing you ever so slight.
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teawithnosugar · 9 months
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Your Love
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! Pairings ,' Ellie x Reader ! CW ,' angst/comfort at the end, slight gore, trauma, mentions of abuse (I think), Ellie is kind of mean at first, Joel and Jesse ain’t dead here ! words ,' 2,6k ! synopsis ,' You and Ellie may fight sometimes, but she’s still the one that understands you most in the world. ! song ,' True Blue - boygenius
"I remember who I am when I’m with you"
! AN ,' ....it's been over a month...I AM SO SORRY. I'm on 3 hours of sleep so I wasn't able to edit this properly. This plot was waaaay better in my head, thinking abt making this a mini series. The reader’s past isn’t that detailed in this one but I think you’re able to get the idea djdbsjs 😭
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When you first came to Jackson, you were 15, quiet, body tense, and covered from head to two in crimson liquid. Now you were 22, still quiet, still tense, and drenched in rain water. You and Ellie had just gotten back from patrol. You accidentally left behind a bag of loot while trying to save Ellie from a group of raiders. As soon as the door to your small cabin closed, she was on you, shouting at you for your mistake, voice as loud as the harsh rain outside. Jackson made you happy, talkative, at peace, but in moments like this it was easy to become that 15 year old again, scared and just taking the blows.
“There’s a flu going around Y/N! People need the medicine you just lost!”
Ellie was furious, pacing the cabin. It was like you were at that facility again, adults shouting at kids for not hitting their targets or being able to beat up other kids during training. You felt so small.
In reality, Ellie was angry, not at you, but at her own sense of burden. She still wasn’t over the incident at the hospital, and the vaccine that was never made because of her and now the medicine the town wouldn’t get because of her mistake. The guilt was overflowing, and coming out as steam in her ears and harsh words from her mouth. “I just…I just wanted to protect you,” you whispered. She froze, expression softening before it hardened. Before she could snap again, there was a knock on the door of your small cabin. You both looked at each other, slightly confused but more to tell each other that this would have to continue later. “We ran into a group of 15, but while we were getting away we saw more of them, all camping in Teton.” You don’t remember how you got here, in a meeting with Tommy, Joel, Jessie, Ellie, and Maria. Not that you were listening anyways. Everyone’s voices sounded fuzzy and echoey, like a vacuum of some sorts. You stared at the cracked wood of Maria’s dinner table. You couldn’t pay attention to the conversation, all you could think of was how empty your stomach felt but you didn’t have the appetite to eat anything.
“…I’m sorry to bring all of you here. Usually in situations like this I send Joel and Y/N…but Joel is getting old and Y/N…doesn’t seem to be in the state to do this alone.”
Maria's concern for your well-being echoes faintly, but it's Ellie’s hand on your knee from under the table that anchors you. She could tell your mind was slipping away again, and she had calmed down greatly since a while ago and wanted to comfort you. She recognized the way you gave a small nod at Maria’s words, eyes staring down at your lap when you felt everyone’s eyes on you. 
You couldn’t help but feel like a burden. Killing and defending was all you were raised to do, and you felt like a disappointment for failing at your only notable job in the community.
You silently played with Ellie’s hand as the meeting went on. You wanted to help with the plan, to tell them some of what they came up with was a bit too dangerous and that it would’ve been easier if they just sent you, but you stayed quiet. If you were being honest, you didn’t really care at the moment, a numbness in your core eating away at your insides. You felt so empty.
In these moments, you found yourself drowning in a familiar sea of emotions. There was little else to do but immerse yourself in the touch of Ellie's skin.It wasn't a difficult choice to make – you could either get lost in your mind's maze or savor the sweetness of Ellie's hand, and surely, the latter was a far more delightful path to take.
As the meeting went on, Ellie glanced at you every few minutes. She hadn’t seen you like this in a long time. “You’re not a fucking killing machine” she had told you so many times before. “Yeah but I’m the best at playing the part” you’d always respond. 
You wanted to help the community that had welcomed you so gracefully years ago. You lacked the culinary skills to prepare hearty meals, the green thumb to tend to blossoming seeds, and the craftsmanship to build sturdy shelters, so you helped the only way you knew how, by protecting them from outsiders, the thing you used to be long ago. Ellie understood your need to be useful all too well, too well to stop you despite how much you hated what you were doing. It’s the reason you chose flight over fight during patrol; you hated killing people.
“You leave in 30 minutes, pack up and meet in front of the gates.” Maria said, and the screeching of chairs being moved hit your ears, bringing you back to the current moment and flinching slightly. Ellie guided you out of the house and silently walked with you back to you to the small cabin. She kept a gentle hand secured around your waist, guilt from your previous argument eating away at her.
“I’m sorr-“
“It’s fine Els” you replied softly, pulling away slowly once you reached your cabin.
It was easy to gather your stuff, your belongings lay where you left them, forgotten in the heat of your argument. Gathering your things became a breeze once you decided to regain composure. However, as you turned around, you found Ellie already sorted and waiting, her eyes fixed on you like a gentle lighthouse beaming with concern.
She drew near and held you by your hips, rubbing and squeezing the flesh under your jeans comfortingly as she leaned her forehead against yours. She looked into your eyes softly. “I can ask Maria to let you sit this one ou-” “I’m fine Els” you repeated, still speaking softly, pressing your lips softly against yours. She smiled against your lips. She knew you weren’t fine, the tender touch of your lips on hers stirred a dance of butterflies in her mind, spinning and swirling like dandelion seeds caught in a playful breeze, just as you planned.
You held hands the whole walk to the gates and the ride to the planned spot. Your arm wrapped around Ellie’s torso as your entwined hands rested on her stomach. You sat behind her on Shimmer. Jesse led the group on his horse as he held the map and you all stayed close together on your horses. You traveled in a line, Jesse, then you and Ellie, then Joel and Tommy. You held the flashlight in your free hand to help light up the path, the sun had set moments ago. The plan was stupid, go in the dark so we could see their lights. It was something that could easily backfire but you didn’t speak up during the meeting so you’d have to deal with the consequences now.
Once you reached the spot, you set up a small base, preparing your weapons and tying down the horses. The area was just a little away from the camp of the people you saw a while ago. Once everyone found their place and the world hushed, Ellie stood beside you while you shed your jacket and tied your shoes with a firm, double knot. The plan was that you would go ahead, scout the area better and come back with useful information. Your unique talent for moving with an almost supernatural silence made you the natural pick for this task.
Her gaze lingered on you before she finally spoke “baby, are you sure?” You stood up straight and gave her a reassuring smile “I’m sure.” You gave her a peck in the cheek and waved to the others before disappearing into the trees, pistol, knife, and binoculars in hand, you left all your bigger weapons with the others to have more mobility.
As you approached the outskirts of the town where the camp lay, confusion washed over you like a cloud passing over the sun. The place was deserted, like a ghost town with its fires extinguished, and not a soul in sight, as if everyone had vanished into thin air. The echoes of gunfire hit you like a punch to the gut, and instinct took over, propelling your body into a sprint as if it had a mind of its own. With your gun and knife firmly grasped in each hand, you darted through the chaos at lightning speed. As you drew nearer, a grim scene unfolded before your eyes like a haunting painting, with lifeless bodies scattered like fallen leaves on a desolate path. …1..2..3…..8..9….
6 more were still alive. You ran around the area, staying out of the light, but your heart shattered into pieces as the sounds of Tommy and Ellie's desperate calls for Joel reached your ears. There, you saw the scene unfolding like a tragic play: Joel lying wounded under the raider's boot, his blood pooling into the grass under him. Ellie struggled to support Jesse who seemed to have gotten injured too. It was just Tommy and Ellie left, able to point their guns at the enemies who did the same. The raiders' shouts faded into the background, drowned out by the persistent ringing in your ears, now back with a vengeance. Ellie's gaze met yours, and with a hesitant nod, she urged you to do what you excelled at. She despised herself for it, knowing she was pushing you to embrace something you detested. But Joel and Jesse needed help, her and Tommy had used up all they had on the other 9 men, and they were basically cornered.
You moved expertly and quickly, mind blank aside from the need to protect your friends and your girlfriend. You shot and sliced through the group while dodging their attacks with ease. Your focus narrowed solely on the task at hand, blocking out everything else. Your friends' voices were lost, and all you saw were the raw, visceral images of flesh and blood as you killed and killed and killed and killed and killed. You didn’t even remember how you got there, straddling the chest of the man you knew was stepping on Joel awhile ago but you couldn’t even recognize his face anymore. Like a relentless storm, you repeatedly stabbed, the knife becoming an extension of your hand, painting the air crimson with every fierce strike. The man's features were now lost amidst the sea of red flesh and the occasional glimpses of his shattered skull, like shards of a broken mirror. 
Your hands, once steady and sure, now throbbed with pain as they clutched onto the knife, coated in a macabre tapestry of bloodstains. The pistol you once held was discarded on the ground nearby, forgotten in the haze of battle. Bruises were likely forming under the stains, but such sensations were distant, eclipsed by the singular focus in your mind, as if you were a machine set on a single purpose. You had slipped into that zone, the mindset of that child trained to kill, where the world narrowed to a singular purpose, leaving everything else behind.
That was until you felt a familiar pair of hands gently pull you off the messy mound of lifeless red flesh, holding you close to their very much alive one. Once the familiar smell of rain water and pinewood hit your nose, you forgot all about the faint smell of blood, like it was just a distant memory. Tilting your head up, you met her worried gaze, her green eyes tightly knit with concern, etching a profound impact on your heart.
“Kid, are you okay?” Tommy had kneeled down in front of you two after quickly packing up everyone’s stuff and putting them on the horses. The worry on his face made the tears that had already unconsciously welled up in your eyes spill over. He didn’t hate you, he was worried, and so was Ellie. She hasn’t seen you like this…in years, and it was breaking her heart because it felt like all the progress you went through just…vanished. But that wasn’t true, you’d be fine. You’d always be fine with her there.
You nodded shakily towards the older man who had become a father figure to you in your time in Jackson. Your eyes flickered towards Jesse and Joel, both injured and on the horses, suffering silently as they waited for us to start moving. ‘Get your shit together’ you screamed internally.
You sadly pulled away from Ellie and stood up. The two needed to get medical attention soon. The ride back was quiet but fast. Ellie and Tommy rode with Jesse and Joel so they wouldn’t have to move much so you were riding on your own horse. Your face was blank but god the voices in your head were loud as you mindlessly followed the two other horses.
‘You should’ve done this alone’
‘One of the men you killed had a wedding band, could one of the other bodies be their loved one?’
‘You could’ve helped plan it out better during the meeting’
‘Another one of the men screamed so loud you were able to hear it through the ringing in your ears, as if the stars cared he was dying. Did you not kill him quickly enough?’
‘None of this would’ve happened if you fucking said something earlier’
The brunette looked back at you every once in a while to make sure you were still there. She was obviously overwhelmed, both her father figure and her best friend were bleeding out and her girlfriend was visibly close to breaking down after killing 6 people in fucking seconds. She kept it together though, she had to.
Once you all arrived back in town and the lives of her loved ones were assured, she brought you home. Ellie tossed all your stuff and hers onto the peeling leather couch, not caring about them at all because you were the priority right now.
Ellie pulled you with her onto the bed, cradling you in her arms. The blood on your body seeped into the sheets, leaving dark stains in its wake. In your dazed state, you managed to utter a faint concern, "I don't want to get the bed dirty." While you were consumed with guilt over the bed, Ellie's heart ached that your focus was on something seemingly trivial amidst the chaos you had faced. Her scent, her touch, she was like some magical drug that quiets the voices in your head. Who needed therapy or talk when she was just there?  She stayed quiet and held you tighter, hiding your hands in hers so you wouldn’t see the crimson that stained on them. After a few moments she pressed a kiss to the back of your head and it’s like you couldn’t even remember what you were arguing about earlier in the day, and how you were supposed to continue talking about it. It was better this way, neither of you won something that probably wasn’t even worth keeping score of. You felt her arms slip under your back and your leg as she started carrying you towards the bathroom, you didn’t fight her hold, you leaned into it actually, snuggling your face into her chest.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? Then we can get you that pasta and garlic bread from the Diner you like so much.”
“Mhm.”
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rifualk · 9 days
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On Mental Health and Cosmic Embarrassment
I don't usually make a post in the aftermath of one of my spirals, so I bet most people see some of the vent posts I make, and assume I am just off my meds or something. I am on them but I might not be on the right ones. This is a thing that happens to me sometimes. I have psychotic episodes, where it feels like the things I am saying are completely inconsequential and I genuinely believe no one cares what I'm saying or, worst of all, that it cannot scare anyone that cares about me. I get too tired to fight my intrusive thoughts and I just ride them out. Most of my thoughts are not ones I enjoy having. I have trouble parsing what is real sometimes. For most of my life, out of a kind of primal shame and terror of being perceived or judged, I beat myself into believing that I just roleplayed as a crazy person online because I wanted attention for it, but it finally clicked for me at some point in my 20s that I was, and am, genuinely very mentally ill, maybe in ways that make me not-entirely-functional in the culture I inhabit. Also, I want attention for it.
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Life is very embarrassing. I think embarrassment, shame, et al. is probably the most cosmic feeling of them all, because being embarrassed, for me anyway, leads invariably to my OCD extrapolating the embarrassment, no matter how slight, into its natural extreme, becoming a full-blown existential meltdown and often manifesting in some self-punishment. Or a lot of self-punishment. Instead of saying "everyone wants attention, it's not a big deal", my brain will overwhelm me with shame and make me vow to be quieter about the whole thing next time. Good emotions are meant to be expressed, I tell myself, and Bad ones are not. I think it's very unhealthy for people to not express their negative emotions openly. Or maybe I'm psychotic. I mean, I am psychotic. But maybe right now, too.
Ultimately this feeling peaks with the realization - again - that I'm a eukaryote. I live on a spinning ball of stardust in the aftermath of what had to have been a colossal disaster and waste of time. But it happened, and so now there's a bunch of stuff floating around, and some of that stuff started moving for reasons I don't personally understand and the implications of which scare me. And the moving stuff that moved faster got to stay moving longer. And so a chain reaction escalated, and eventually there were very large moving things whose survival adaptations had evolved in such a way that they could conceptualize and communicate complex information about the world around them, but they were also able to conceptualize themselves. This gave them a lot of grief. They wanted very badly for there to be an answer to why they were able to do that. Surely it served some purpose. But we never found one, and here we are.
I don't have a god to turn to. I have tried - earnestly, sincerely, and desperately - to reach out; I never hear back. I don't want to be an atheist, it's heartbreaking. Honestly. I want someone to be up there, or out there. Knowing there isn't, is just... cruel. It's horrifying and it wrenches my heart. Look at us, look how much we're suffering, where the fuck did you go, what the fuck is your problem? Help us!
In spite of everything, I am still not sure what I believe.
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Don't you ever just cry about the world? Like, broadly? Don't you ever just have to take off your glasses and wipe the brine from them because you caught a glimpse of what people, as a species, could be capable of? And I get angry at myself, too. What am I doing about it? What even can I do? I can barely hold down a job. I am barely an adult. I am often mired in this feeling. It permeates everything. I'm living in a tragedy - not just my own, but millions and millions of others'. This is a nightmare. It's a nightmare and I'm an embarrassment, and my brain doesn't work right, and I'm living in a terrible reality that is shared by everyone, and yet somehow equally isolating and alienating to all of us. Does it have to be that way? Aren't we all lonely?
When I am spiraling I really do think that the end is near, either for me, or for everyone, or for both. To be fair, my confidence about humanity's future is not promising even when I am at my most sane. But in this kind of emotional place, the stakes are too high for me to care that what I say might come off as upsetting. It is completely overwhelming. I see my life up to this point, and I see how long I've been alive and realize I'm very Not Normal and I look and sound different than everyone around me and I'm an embarrassment. It's embarrassing to exist. It's embarrassing to be transgender, too. It's really, really embarrassing to be mentally ill and fully aware of it all the time. It's shameful. I am ashamed of how my family likely sees me. How my peers see me. I'm just a walking disaster. I feel like this bars me from leading a happy life or finding some success in art - It doesn't seem like you're allowed to be quite this much of a problem and "get away with it", does it? There's a bit of social sanitizing at work there - you are only allowed to be a certain level of messed up and if you pass that you're sort of a pariah. I don't think I've ever done anything pariah-worthy, but I can only see things from the inside of my own head, and there's a lot of unwanted noise in here.
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I painted this when I lived in Oregon. I don't know how. I could not do art like this again if asked.
I'm not in a good place, generally-speaking. It could be worse - and it was for a long time- but it's still just not great. There are two reasons for this. One is that I'm very homesick. The other is that I found - and subsequently lost - my twin. But I only want to talk about the first reason right now - I grew attached to the Pacific Northwest in a way I've never really grown attached to any other place. It had a quality that exists nowhere else. It resonated with me immediately and I knew right away from the moment I first set foot there that it was my home. I grew to be a part of it, and it's the only place I felt I somewhat-belonged... I have been away from Oregon for 2 whole years as of next month. I feel like I'm a fish out of water, or a sapling in the wrong soil. I can't and won't say that the place I live currently is a bad place, but it isn't my place, and the disconnect has been maybe the nastiest shock to my system in all my life. Finding the place I loved, and living for over 12 years there, only to be wrenched away from it so suddenly, left a shock on me that I think has yet to surface in my work. I'm excited to see what form it takes when it does. Location is very important to my mental wellbeing, more than I think it is for most people. Maybe I am a plant. It's also very important for my art. I've struggled to find inspiration since I moved here. That said, I've had the very precious opportunity to just work on myself - on my transition, as well as my personal issues. I think I'm getting better, gradually, in some way. I have a job now, at least. So it's not entirely bad. I even grew sunflowers last summer.
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Around this time I got banned from twitter, but I don't feel any shame about the reason why because I believe in my message. But it forced me to be a lot less active online for a long time. It also made me lose a lot of support. That's been something I've grappled with a lot these last 2 years - that people really don't like people like me, for reasons that are mostly not our fault. I will likely always be something of an outsider for being who I am now, but I was one before anyway. It's still worth it. I like the person I'm becoming. I feel like only recently did I allow myself to feel this self-love. I was too embarrassed of myself. It took a lot of patience and a lot of de-tangling my self-worth from a lot of trauma. So it's likely I would have needed to go through all of this regardless of where I was.
I still slip up. It's an uphill climb and it's slippery. I like to be transparent about these things. It's a relief - feeling like I need to hide things is my default state and it's lovely to just let go of stuff so I don't need to keep it in my head all the time. I have a lot of hangups still. I get discouraged about my art still - I fear I'll never build myself back up to where I was before, and that there will never be a time when I can really pay the bills with it. Or worse-still, that it just isn't special enough to last. That it isn't remarkable enough to survive after I'm gone. But I think a lot of people who make stuff feel that way, and it's not our fault. There's some relief in that. I'm happy to have even a few people that care about me and my work, and something I've been trying really hard to remember in recent years is to take time to appreciate them. I'm not actually alone. I have a lot of people that love me. I'm not an outsider. I'm very lucky to know the people I do, and I hold a deep regret for all the connections I've let go of because I was just too sick. Deep down I really do wish I could love everyone. I have no ill will towards anyone, not really.
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I still don't know what I'm doing. I am just doing my best, I think. I'm really, really tired. I don't want to get any older. I'm scared of the passage of time. My memory is so bad, it feels like time is taken from me without me realizing. I am 33 years old. I do not have 33 years worth of memories. There are huge leaps. Gaps where suddenly I was just older and in more pain. Being adrift in time like this is horrific - one day I will blink, and the present moment may be completely forgotten. It can't go this fast. It just can't. Something has to be wrong. I don't want to die, I don't want to miss out on so much life or be unable to remember it. I don't want to find myself on my deathbed someday way sooner than I think and be unable to string together any kind of coherent thread from my memories. What is it all for? It has to mean something right? Why am I doing anything?
I think I finally understand that love is why. I don't know much more than that. Love is real, and it's the answer. If you find love, don't take it for granted, ever. No love is perfect. Take it with all its flaws. You don't have time to bargain with it. Love like you'll never love again, love like it's your last day alive, love like it will keep you alive forever, because it will. Every year closer to death you get, you will feel the regret of all the times you did not follow your heart. Life is short. I'm finding this out entirely too late. It goes by so fast, and what you have at the end are people and memories of being loved. To be loved is to live forever. It's the thing that connects us to everything else. It's the source and the answer to everything. It makes more sense the older I get. It used to sound cheesy, but I believe it with more sincerity every day.
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I kept my last promise to you - there are no new scars on my arms, or bruises on my head or face.
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ahgasegotarmy116 · 5 months
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The Art of Etiquette Part 2 | Jeon Jungkook
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Summary: You try to back out on being a debutant so you can stop taking lessons with Mr. Jeon but your mother is going to do everything she can to make you follow through Paring: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 2k~ Warnings: Like one cuss word but thats about it lol a/n: Let me know how you guys are liking this! I was planning on posting this later but I wanted to see if posting around this time would be better :) p.s. roughly edited lol
"Mom! Mom! Where are you?" I yell as soon as I get home. "I'm right here so please stop yelling, you know that there is no yelling in this household" she scolds. "Okay, then why did you yell at me when I got a bad grade on my midterm paper?" I throw in her face. "Watch your tone y/n I am still your mother" she retorts. "Now what is it?" she says quickly turning the conversation back to it's intended course. 
"I can't do this" I say and start making my way to the living room with her soon trailing behind. "Do what?" she sighs once we've both sat down. "This whole debutante thing, it's not for me" I say hoping it would pacify her but knowing for a fact that would never happen. "You're doing it!" she says, wanting to end the conversation already. 
"No I'm not!" I argue back "I'm not cut out for this thing. This life of high society and playing nice with strangers, pretending like you actually care about what they're talking about. I just can't pretend to be someone I'm not" I explain but unfortunately she'll have none of it. "Did something happen at your lessons today?" she asks, hoping to find the cause of my anxieties.
"Nothing happened" I huff, standing up and making my way to my room. "Obviously something happened since you always seem to have something to say about everything even at the most inopportune times" she says, obviously exacerbated by the memories. "Are you talking about the time I added staying alive to the set list at grandpa's funeral?" I question chuckling at the memory. 
"See this is exactly why you need those lessons. It's time to grow up, and if you're not ready to do that yet then I'll just have you get a job and start paying your own tuition so you can learn on your own what it means to be an adult" she threatens. "James said that he would pay for my tuition if I decided I wanted to go back to college. You can't take that away from me!" I argue and stop in my tracks, surprised and upset that she would even stoop that low. 
"Since you still feel the need to whine over small sacrifices such as these then it looks like we should probably start giving you some more responsibilities so you will grow up. Just take the damn lessons y/n, it would really make your father and I happy if we could introduce you to everyone properly" she explains softening her tone towards the end.
"But he-" I start, wanting to tell her what my instructor made me do but we're cut off by the sound of James getting home. "How are my two lovely ladies doing?" he asks while giving my mother a kiss on her temple. "Oh we're fine, y/n was just telling me how much she enjoyed her first lesson right?" she says giving me a stern face, daring me to say otherwise.
"Oh yeah they were great Mr. Jeon seems like a very nice man" I say giving him a half smile, forcing the answer out of myself. I hate lying to him, especially since he's been nothing but nice to me so far. A lot nicer than my mother that's for sure, so I would hate to mess things up with him. 
"Well that's great news! Especially since he called me just now and asked if you would like to take more lessons with him. It seems like he's taken a special interest in you and wants to really make sure you're set up for success. Would that be something that you would like?" he asks, thankfully leaving the decision up to me but with the glare my mother is giving me it seems like from her point of view there's only one obvious answer for this question.
"That works for me. Whatever you both think would be best is be fine by me" I say, doing my very best to sound as genuine as possible even though I'm dying inside. 
"Wonderful! He's asked if we could do three days of etiquette and two days of dance lessons during the week and on days closer to events we should do dance lessons on the weekend before the event as well. That schedule work out alright for you?" he asks while taking out his phone to no doubt sending a message to Matthew to contact Mr. Jeon tomorrow morning so he's prepared for my newly scheduled lessons as well.
"Yes that's fine but where will I be taking my dance lessons?" I question now confused as to why Mr. Jeon would speak to James about them as well. "Oh I didn't tell you?" he's your dance instructor as well" James says and leaves to his office to take a phone call. 
"No fucking way am I dancing with that man" I say turning back to my mother once he's out of earshot. "Did he do something that made you feel uncomfortable?" she asks, just now deciding to finally ask why I didn't want to take the lessons. "No he's just a dick" I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Really, that's the reason? What did you expect? He's meant to teach you to act like a lady and let's be honest, a nice sweet approach isn't going to work on you" she says and makes her way to who knows where, to do who knows what. With how big this house is it could honestly be anything. 
~~~~~~~~
"So is he hot?" Jesse asks, clearly interested in how things went yesterday. "I mean I guess but he's too rude for me to even begin to pay attention to that" I huff, frustrated at the thought of him alone. "What's his name?" he asks, taking out his phone to look him up.
"I don't remember but his last name is Jeon" I say taking a bite out of my sandwich. "J-o-h-n?" he questions, confused at the unusual surname. "No J-e-o-n. I'm pretty sure he's Korean" I say and slide over to his side to see what he can dig up on him.
"Jeon Private Etiquette Tutor" he types in and hits enter. "Woah" both of us say, seeing how many articles and pictures of him with actors, CEOs and public figures. "This guy must be loaded" Jesse says, clearly stunned at who he's worked with. "And he's hot! Damn girl you really won if this Jungkook guy wants to see you five times a week" he says and keeps on clicking through everything he can get him hands on about him. "And seven days a week when there's some stupid event I have to go to" I groan just thinking about how many hours of my life I'm going to waste with him. 
"He's only 27, I wonder if he's single" Jesse says winking at me. "For me or for you because you can have him" I scoff making him laugh. "No take backs! Well, unless he's straight. Then you can have him back. No matter how heartbreaking that might be" he says, wiping away fake tears. "Sorry to break it to you babe but he probably wouldn't go for either of us" I say placing a hand on his shoulder and getting up to leave.
"Hey! Where are you going? We don't start class for another half an hour" he yells after me. "I gotta go change since he wants me to be 'dressed like a lady' when I come and I won't have time after class" I yell turning to face him as I walk backward for a second. "Alright, have fun Barbie" he yells as I get further away to which I respond with a shake of my head as I make my way over to my car. 
"Acceptable" he says taking in my form. "Although the hem is far too short" he says looking down at my legs again before looking back up and making eye contact with me. "It was all I could find on such short notice" I explain but unfortunately he isn't satisfied with my answer. 
"Excuses will get you no where, you either do it or you don't. I'm sure you could have put in a little more effort into finding something more suitable if you had tried. Let's remedy the situation by the next class shall we?" he finishes off sarcastically before turning his back to me and walking over to the sound system in the corner of the room and I take the chance to stick my tongue out at him in retaliation. 
"You do you realize there are mirrors in this room correct?" he asks, clearly not amused with what he had seen me doing. "My apologies Mr. Jeon" I settle on, not bothering to give an excuse this time. "But are you really?" he asks, walking back towards me slowly, his voice an octave lower, catching me off guard. "N-no" I answer truthfully, nervous with the way he stalks towards me with clear displeasure enveloping his entire existence. 
He leans towards me talking directly into my ear, clearly using tactics to show his dominance over the situation. "Let us be honest with each other then. It would be a waste of both of our time if we were to do otherwise" he say sending shivers down my spine and I hate that it's something I couldn't have controlled even if I wanted to. "Is that clear?" he asks, his warm breath hitting my neck making my mind feel clouded, leaving me confused on how to respond to him leaving me only being able to nod in response.
"Good" he says leaning back, giving what I had hoped for was a little more room to breathe. "Next time use your words" he says tilting my chin up just as he had done at my last lesson. "Yes Mr. Jeon" I say quietly, leaving him satisfied with my cooperation and straightening back up to go back to what he had been working on.
'What the fuck was that? What the fuck was that? What THE FUCK was that?' I ask myself over and over and over again. I'm startled out of my circular train of thought and am met with what I can assume is some sort of waltz music running through the twin speakers on either side of the wall that the sound system is placed against. 
"I can't dance" I voice out, sticking to my word and answering the question before he bothered to ask. "I thought as much, ballroom dancing is a lost art amongst the youth of your generation" he says adjusting a few more things before coming back over to me. 
"You speak of my generation as if it was much younger in comparison to yours" I respond crossing my arms over my chest in defiance. "Were you perhaps curious enough to inquire about me?" he asks finally turning around to face me, making his way back over to me as he had done before, having caught me red handed leaving me changing my position, holding my hands together and having them rest against my thighs.
"I had just assumed based off of how youthful you look" I respond, giving him a forced compliment, not wanting to admit to what I had done. Well, really what Jesse had done but again he would see right through me. "Haven't we agreed to be honest with each other?" he questions reaching his hand out and easily pulling my hands apart. Placing one of mine on his shoulder and the other held in his hand, leaving his free one to rest on my waist. 
"Do as I say and hopefully we'll come out of this without any injuries" he says practically daring me to make a mistake. "But of course" I say and straighten my posture to match his and follow his lead as best as I can. 
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orange-orchard-system · 3 months
Text
Got a hate ask on my other blog (funnier-as-a-system) today. I'm not gonna respond to it directly, but I'm gonna go over it fully just as an example of why I don't take anti-endos or sysmeds seriously and find them to be just bullying assholes who don't know what they're talking about. Apologies for the rare discourse post, but I felt it would be useful to have a personal example I can point to if I ever get any more asks than I already have about why I block anti-endos and sysmeds and don't want them on my blogs.
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[ID: A screenshot of an anonymous ask, which reads: ""Systems" aren't real. Please stop being ableist against people with DID and our struggles. Pretending to be one of us while simultaneously mocking us makes you look like a piece of shit. Also, DID isn't fucking funny, you're just cruel and ableist. Go see a psychiatrist, get your personality disorders and Munchausens taken care of, and stop pretending to have DID when you don't. We don't need you, our community is better off without teenagers faking DID as a meme. To be honest, I wish you and literally everyone like you were more likely to kill yourself as someone with a real mental illness, because you don't deserve to be alive if this is what you're doing with your life. You're just a delusional bully and neo-nazi" ./ end ID]
Starting from the top, apparently anyone with DID who's ever described themselves as a system is faking now. Nevermind that it's been a term in psychology and the community for decades now! All systems are fake!
I have DID. I've said as much many times. Not that I think this person would consider this a counterargument, but I feel it deserves restating considering a fair amount of my posts are specifically about my DID and managing the symptoms of it.
If I want to find humor in my own disorder, I'm going to. I'm not going to resign myself to misery and self-hate just to please some randos on the Internet. I crawled my way out of the pit of self-hate and am not just gonna jump in there again just to avoid a couple asks and assholes. And I'd make a point here about systems that don't come from trauma or aren't disordered, but what's the point of that when they think literally all systems are fake?
Ohoho! Disableism towards other mental disorders! Isn't the irony sweet?
Not to toot my own horn, but I just love the lack of awareness when it comes to "we don't need you." No, I guess you don't need me... but you'll be going without the work I've done both online and offline to teach people about dissociation and plurality. Not to mention the terms I've coined that make people feel seen, the experiences I've talked about that make people feel less alone, the building of spaces to let others talk about their own problems and experiences, and the general promotion I've done of plural representation in media. No, you don't need me, but I've been doing work to assist the DID and wider plural communities for years now. And what have you been doing? Sending hate asks to people with DID for being too happy?
I'm an adult. I've mentioned before that I go to university and have a job. Seems like even online, I can't escape the assumption that I'm a teenager, smh. Also, I'm much more worried about the teenagers you might be sending this to than any kind of unquantifiable harm a couple teenagers faking DID could do, considering how clearly you wish to do harm with your words. Especially considering the next few sentences...
Oh, so we're just moving onto blatant suicide baiting and admitting you want systems to die. Got it. Totally not a bigot, right.
Wait... "Real mental illnesses"? Didn't you just accuse me of having several earlier? Or do personality disorders and Munchausen Syndrome not count? (Also, do they think being suicidal is a requirement to be mentally ill? They know not all disorders or presentations of disorders involve suicidality, right?)
Well, you got the delusional part right (which, side note, do you think it's impossible for people to have both DID and psychosis? Big yikes even if no, but that's what these asks always seem to imply), but I think this post might be the closest anyone can call "bullying", considering I'm not giving you an opportunity to respond as I tear down your argument. But maybe the definition of peer abuse changed to *checks notes* running a blog talking about plurality in a positive manner since I last checked.
These people do know what a Neo-Nazi is, right? They know what a Nazi is? Because it feels like people just use it as a stand-in for "general asshole" when it means a specific sort of ideology and bigotry. Ironic that they'd be so pissed about "mockery" and treating serious topics "as a meme", but then they go and misuse a term for a very dangerous kind of ideology and person.
Alright, I think I got that out of my system. Please be careful out there, guys! It feels like the number of hate asks I've seen people get has been going up. I'm in a stable enough place to make a demonstration out of this, but don't push yourself to have a snappy comeback or write essays responding to these assholes if you don't think you're up for it. Hell, I rarely write things like this myself, I just chose this ask to respond to because it was such a clear example of how hypocritical and foolish this particular brand of assholes is that I couldn't pass up the opportunity to break it down.
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kelcemenow · 11 months
Text
Birthday Suit - Chapter 3.
Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader
Words 1616
Warnings Lots of fluff and some strong language.
So, this was supposed to be the final chapter but I'm enjoying this request so much, there will be one more after this! “Request!!!!! Travis and the reader meet on a club in Vegas they immediately hit it off, as the night continues the enjoy the Vegas strip having fun and once they get to his room travis really shows the reader how much he adores her. Fluff / smut”
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CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
Your bare shoulders stung in the cool evening air as you bounded out of the casino, clutching at your stomach laughing.
""Woooh" Travis yelled, his fists raised high.
"But isn't the point of going to the casino to win money?" You giggled, "You lost!"
Travis shrugged his shoulders, "Who cares? We had fun, right?"
"You seem pretty relaxed for a guy who just lost $2000."
Travis raised his eyebrows, "Alright, alright, where next?"
Your hands ran along the top of your arms in an attempt to cover them from the cold. Travis noticed and immediately began removing his jacket.
"Here." He said as he draped it over your shoulder.
"Woah, hold up big guy. Is this not a bit too...emotional and romantic?"
His eyes sparkled with the city lights, "Maybe. Look, I know this whole thing was my idea but it's killing me. I think you're awesome, and what's crazy is, I don't even know anything about you."
You leaned slightly closer to him as you walked, "I know. I could be a murderer or something?"
"I'm prepared to take that risk."
You stomach fluttered and there was a comfortable silence, the only sound being your footsteps on the pavement and the sounds of the city.
Suddenly, Travis stopped and turned to you, "Okay. How about we play 20 questions?"
"Is that your idea of getting to know someone?"
"Is that your first question?"
You lowered your head and laughed under your breath.
Travis ghosted his hand over yours for a moment before gently intertwining his fingers with yours, "Come on, it'll be fun."
You looked up at him and exhaled, "Alright, let's do it."
Travis began walking, "Okay, what's your biggest fear?"
"Wow, we're getting straight in with the heavy stuff? Okay." Your skin tingled when you realised he was still holding your hand, "I'd say failure. I have a pretty serious job and I can't drop the ball, like, ever. It's a lot of pressure, but I suppose I thrive on that. I like those moments of all or nothing, you know, the difference between win or lose. But the feeling of the loss is not something I like to feel often. So, I put my all into my career, it comes first for me most of the time. I suppose that's why I never seem to have a stable relationship. No offence, but most guys can't handle it."
Travis smirked and looked down at his feet.
"What?"
He snickered slightly, "No, nothing. Your question."
"If you could have one super-power, what would it be?"
"Oh easy. Either teleportation or super speed."
You playfully nudged his arm, "I said one! You can't have two, that's just greedy!"
"Alright, okay." He paused as he thought for a moment, "I'd have super speed. It would come in really handy."
"Handy with what?" You looked up at him.
Travis held out a finger and waved it in front of your face, "Ah ah, it's my question now. Favourite vacation spot?"
You rolled your eyes and pursed your lips together in thought, "I don't get to go on vacation often, but I went to Bali after college, and it was so beautiful. I've always wanted to go back, as an adult, you know, and appreciate it properly."
Travis nodded, "Okay, yeah. I get it. Good answer." He tightened his grip slightly, "Next question?"
You took a deep breath of evening air, "Why were you so determined to get my on my own tonight when you had dozens of girls crowding around you?"
Travis smiled wide, "Because you were so intriguing. You weren't pawing at me because of who I am or what I do. You genuinely seemed interested, and I like that. You were just out there, having a good time, dancing with your friends and honestly, I can't deal with girls who are only after me because of the fame. I like real connections, you seem real to me. Straight-up, you know?" He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer, his lips next to your ear, "And to top it off, you are so beautiful."
Your lips crept into a smile as you walked but you slowed down a little when his words repeated themselves in your head. Your eyebrows lowered in confusion, "Wait, what do you mean because of 'who you are'...what does fame have to do with it."
Travis pulled at your arm, "My question next. Favourite sex position."
Your mouth flew open with a laugh, "Wow, okay. We're going there? Alright, it sounds boring but I like the classics. Missionary is up there at the top for me. I like eye and body contact during sex." You stopped walking and turned to face him, "You know, the feeling of our bodies pressed together, my thighs wrapped around your waist, your mouth on my neck." As you spoke, you got closer to him, lowering your voice into a whisper, "Staring into each others eyes, deep and long kisses, dragging my nails down your back."
You stopped, only inches away from Travis' face as you watched his eyes glaze over and his lips quiver.
He cleared his throat and blinked a couple of times as he opened his mouth to speak, "Uh-"
You quickly turned and took a few steps away from him, "Or bent over with my ass in the air is pretty good too."
Travis' jaw dropped open, "Oh come on, girl. Don't tease me like that!" He jogged to catch up with you, hugging his arms around your waist from behind.
"My question now!" You said happily, "Okay, I gotta know. Who are you? You keep dropping hints about fame and the fact that you had people surrounding you in the club, I don't get it! Who are you?"
Travis chuckled, "So, my name is Travis Kelce." He paused for a reaction but continued when your face didn't change, "And I'm a Tight End for the Kansas City Chiefs."
You turned and stared at him, wide eyed, "I'm really sorry but you just said a lot of things that I don't understand."
He laughed again, "I play football, I'm a football player."
"Oh! Right, yeah. I get it now." You jumped a little as your voice raised, "Wow, okay. That's pretty big."
Travis rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah to be honest, people usually know who I am."
"Yeah, sorry about that! I'm not a big football watcher, I never have time!"
Travis swung his arm around your shoulder, "I like that. Really, it's kinda nice. It's...refreshing." His mouth moved into a smile. "When you said earlier about people expecting a lot from you, experiencing a lot of pressure and not liking to lose...I was laughing because that's exactly how I feel."
Your eyes creased into a smile, "So, you totally get it, then?"
He nodded, "What is it you do?"
You looked up at him, "Is that your next question?"
He narrowed his eyes a little, "Yes."
"I'm a lawyer."
Travis stepped back slightly, "Oh, shit."
"Let me guess, that's scared you off?"
He stroked his beard, pretending to be in deep thought, "This is some serious information. This means I'll never win an argument."
You laughed and grabbed his arms and pulled him back to his previous position, his head resting on your shoulder, "That's right! Okay, my turn. What do you look for in a woman?"
You felt his cheeks move into a smile against your own, "I find ambition very attractive. I love it when a woman knows what she wants, and works hard to get it. I don't know, there's just something so sexy about an independent woman with her shit together. But I don't want someone who takes themselves too seriously, you know? I'm a bit of a class clown so someone who I can laugh with is important."
You felt him tighten his grip and you almost felt yourself melt into his arms. Quickly, you spun in his arms so you were facing him.
"Eyes are a bit of a weak spot for me. If you got a good set of eyes on you, oh baby."
Giggling, you fluttered your eyelashes at him.
Travis bit down on his bottom lip and looked away from you, "Don't man, I'll be a mess."
You stopped walking and moved closer to him, your bodies almost touching, "It's your turn next. What's your next question?"
Travis took a slow breath in and his gaze flickered to your mouth, "I think I know enough."
"Enough for what?"
"For this."
Travis slowly moved in even closer, his eyes fixed on you. Your breath hitched as his lips connected with yours, an intense heat rising in your chest. Your eyes flickered shut and you tilted your head to the side, deepening the kiss. As your hands moved up his body, you teased his tongue with your own, dragging it along his bottom lip. His large hands took hold of your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze as you pushed your body against his. Travis groaned and the vibration on your mouth sent waves down your body. You swore you could feel something pressing against your hip and once you grazed against it, Travis' gentle moan confirmed for you. He quickly moved his kisses down to your neck, smiling against your skin when you threw your head back and gasped. Your hands found themselves at his head, dragging your nails along his buzzed hair. When he pulled away, his glazed eyes blinked in front of you.
"I think I have one more question." His voice was deep and gruff, "Will you come back to my hotel room with me?"
______________________________________________________________
I love flirty Travis! The next chapter will be the final one, where all the smut happens so if you want to be added to my taglist, just let me know!
Taglist @kkrenae @keiva1000
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blueraineshadows · 11 months
Note
Thank you so much for responding to my request last time, it was so good! I have another concept that's also inspired by something else if you don't mind?
Sebastian and MC are married, but he goes missing (due to his dangerous job) and is thought to be dead for years. MC is still grieving, but trying to move on. She gets engaged to another wizard, but Sebastian finally returns after trying his best to get back to her. They have a huge fight when Sebastian finds out (it'd be nice if it had a happy *smutty* ending, though).
"Where do you get off letting him think he can have you? You're mine and I'm yours. That's it!"
Great Request! 😃 Thank-you 💜
This has angst! It's also long! NSFW 🌶 🔥
Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (Mrs Sallow) as adults.
My beloved, Sebastian,
They tell me you are gone, forever, lost to me...dead. I haven't seen your face for over two years now, and my deepest fear suspects they may be right. But in my heart, safe for always, you will remain. As much as it hurts me, I could never let you go completely, for that would mean the end of me also.
I know our friends mean well, they wish to see me happy, at peace perhaps. But it has been hard to hear their insistent pleas for me to move on. Of late, I have had to succumb to their pleas. I'm not sure I can handle another visit to the morgue to identify another poor soul, the guilt of my relief that it is never you under the cloth, but some other lost loved one. I don't envy their family's pain, but it is another desperate scrap of hope that you are still alive.
We are holding a ceremony for you, to say goodbye, to let you go. I cannot say goodbye, merely farewell, for one day I know we will be reunited. How could we not? Whatever awaits beyond the mortal realm, I will find you there, my whole soul is destined for it. It always was.
It breaks me that you had to go before me, and all I have left are my memories, precious moments that are a comfort during dark, lonely nights.
Forgive me for having to let you go, if only for a time. I will love you forever, just as I promised you.
Wait for me. I will wait for you.
Your wife, MC.
Six months later...
"Matthew has proposed," MC said. Her fingers clutched her teacup a little tighter. The words sounded so terribly real when said out loud.
Poppy paused as she went to take a sip from her own tea cup, her eyes widening. She quickly put down her cup and put a hand on MC's arm. "Oh my goodness," she said. Concern clouded her face. "How...I mean...what did you say?"
"I told him I needed to think about it," MC said. Which was the truth. She looked down at her left hand, the silver band symbolising her eternal promise to Sebastian still there on her finger. Her voice became a whisper. "I can't help but feel like I am being unfaithful."
"Oh, MC," Poppy said. "I know it must feel strange, and of course it's so very difficult. But, you deserve to find some happiness, MC. And, Matthew is so lovely, I know he would take care of you."
MC nodded. "That's what makes it so difficult, Poppy. Matthew is wonderful, so understanding. He told me to take all the time I need to think. He would make a wonderful husband, but..."
The pause lay heavy between them. Poppy nodded knowingly. "He isn't Sebastian."
MC took a swallow of tea to loosen the restriction in her throat. She took a deep breath. "However, I did make a promise to try and move on, didn't I? Maybe a new beginning would be the best way to go about it."
"I agree," Poppy said. "It would gladden my heart to see you happy again, MC."
....*....
The fire crackled and dipped in the hearth. MC sat cross legged before it, her eyes watching the flames dance. Passion, and heat, unpredictability, fire had always reminded her of Sebastian.
A hand on her shoulder made her look up. Matthew smiled down at her, handing her a wine goblet. She took it with thanks. He folded to sit on the rug beside her. "Are you cold?" He asked. He wrapped an arm about her, rubbing her arm with his hand.
"No, just unwinding," she smiled. She leant her head against his shoulder. He was sturdy, safe, comforting. Traits that had made her gravitate towards him. It kept the edge off her loneliness.
He pressed a kiss to her head, his thumb making lazy circles on her arm. He had never pushed her to be physical with him, knowing how fragile her heart was. He had been an exemplary gentleman, and she was grateful for it.
She sipped her wine, the firelight glinting off the diamond she wore on her ring finger. She had accepted his proposal. Sebastian's ring was now on a chain around her neck, close to her heart. She rubbed a hand absently against it through the fabric of her blouse.
"I thought perhaps we could take a boat trip tomorrow," Matthew suggested. "We could get some fresh air, maybe take a picnic. It would be good to escape the city for a while."
"That sounds perfect," she smiled. She looked up at him. He had lovely, blue eyes, blue like the sky. His hair was fair, neatly trimmed. He was nothing like Sebastian, and that was how she wanted it.
Matthew's gaze was warm, loving. He tightened his hold a little, his gaze dropping to her lips. MC felt a little breathless and wondered if perhaps she had drunk too much wine. His kiss was soft, testing. He did not want to pressure her.
MC felt her body respond. It was weak, just a flutter, but it was the first time she had felt anything remotely close to desire in years. She kissed him back.
As the kiss deepened, the warmth of it seemed to ease back the cavern of loneliness that had carved itself in her chest. So, she let him lay her back on the rug, his mouth claiming hers more deeply.
There was a war going on inside of her. Half was opening up, reaching out for the closeness, the warmth, after so long in the dark. The other half of her was screaming, no, this was all wrong. She was wrong, a betrayer, she was betraying Sebastian.
She pulled back from Matthew's kiss, her hands flat against his chest. She could feel the pounding of his heart.
"Are you alright?" He asked. The concern in his gaze made her want to scream and rip at her own hair. She was being so unfair to him. She would be a terrible wife. He deserved so much better.
"A little overwhelmed," she breathed. She winced. "Forgive me. I think I need a minute."
"Of course," he said. He immediately sat up, adjusting his trousers.
"You must think I am a terrible tease," she grimaced. "That is not my intention."
"No, MC, I don't think that at all. I think you have suffered a terrible loss, and I do not ever expect to fill the hole Sebastian left behind." Matthew said. "I wish I could take the pain away for you, truly I do. I only hope that, one day, you can love me even a fraction of what you felt for him."
MC felt her heart squeeze painfully. Matthew was a good person. She did not deserve him. She reached out and took his hand. "How are you so perfect?"
A sharp rap on the front door made them both jump and turn. "Who on earth could that be at this hour?" MC asked.
Matthew frowned. "I will see to it." He got to his feet and MC couldn't help lift her eyebrows. He was sweet for thinking that she needed protecting, after all, she was a far more powerful witch than most.
She heard the door open and the surprise in Matthew's voice. "Ominis!"
MC immediately got to her feet. It was very unlike Ominis to call upon her so unexpected like this. Her heart kicked up a notch and she twisted her fingers together as he appeared in the living room doorway.
"Good evening, MC. I am sorry to call on you so late, but this couldn't wait," he said. He looked grave, a little flustered even. He tilted his head trying to locate her.
She went to him, reaching for a hand. "Ominis, I'm here, it's alright." He squeezed her fingers, his usual cool fingers hot and sweaty. She swallowed. "What is it?"
"I don't know where to start," he said. He pressed long fingers to his brow. "I had word through the Ministry that a stronghold of slavers has been discovered in America. There were many prisoners, witches and wizards from all over the world, Aurors, Unspeakables..."
MC felt his grip tighten on her fingers, his bones grating against hers. She didn't even feel the pain. Her vision was starting to tunnel. All she could see was his face, her eyes fixed on his lips as the words came out. "Go on," she urged.
Ominis took a deep, shuddering breath. "The list of survivors, the ones they brought back..."
"Ominis," she said. Her voice was a strangled plea. She was clinging to his hand, her other hand reached out to grab the front of his immaculate robes. Hope was being dangled in front of her eyes. Years of agony were twisting harshly in her chest and her ears were screaming for what he had to say next. Oh, Merlin, please!
He nodded and got a hold of himself, his eyes blinking back the sudden shine in them. "His name was on that list, MC. Sebastian...he has been found."
She could hear someone wailing, a terrible, wrenching sound and then all was quiet. Soothing blackness wrapped around her and then there was nothing else.
....*....
She blinked. Once, twice, the living room swimming into view. She felt heavy, sluggish, her mouth glued shut. MC tried to sit up on the settee, and then hands were there steadying her shoulders. Matthew's face was a picture of worry.
She turned her head, and there in the wingback chair sat Ominis, looking anything but his usual composed self. His fingers were clutching the arms of the chair, his face rigid, his hair a little ruffled.
They had found him!
"Is it true?" She croaked.
Ominis turned his face her way, his lips trembled, and he nodded. "The survivors were brought back to England three days ago. I made some enquiries and Sebastian was placed in a safe house. I had trouble believing it myself, and so I made arrangements to go and make absolutely sure it was true."
Her heart was a wild thing in her chest, it hurt to breathe. "You've seen him?"
He nodded. "Yes," he said. "I saw him not two hours ago."
Her breath left her in a rush, a tear slid from her cheek. She shook, uncontrollably, and shifted, fully facing him now. "Can we...can I," she gasped. She put her fingers to her lips. "Is he alright?"
"He is alive, and not badly wounded. I can't say much about his state of mind, of course. He is...understandly, traumatised. But he did ask for you. It was one of the first things he said to me." Ominis said. He hesitated, his fingers flexing. "He wanted to know everything...about you. I...filled him in a little. I apologise."
She flinched and slid from the couch to her knees, literally crawling across the floor to clasp Ominis' hand. "Take me to him, please."
Ominis held her hand, but his head turned in the direction of Matthew, a pained look on his face. MC gasped and swung her gaze around to Matthew, horrified that she had completely forgotten he was standing there. She began to stutter out an apology, but he held up a hand to stop her.
"Don't say another word," he said. His eyes were sad, but his mouth was firm. "Go, go to him. It's only right." He faltered. "He is your husband, after all."
....*....
Ominis and MC Apparated to the location of the safe house. The road was dark, quiet, a chill breeze tugging at the trees. Set back from the road was the house, an Auror standing guard near the door. A light glowed in a downstairs window.
MC was clinging on to Ominis' arm, too afraid to let go lest she just collapse to the ground. None of this felt real. He led her through the gate and towards the door, her feet stumbling along the path.
"Are you sure you're up to this?" Ominis asked.
"I will crawl through that door if I have to," she said through gritted teeth. "I need to see."
The Auror guard gave a nod to Ominis. "Gaunt," he said, respectfully. His eyes took in MC. "Mrs Sallow, I take it."
"I think Mr and Mrs Sallow need some time," Ominis said. "By all means, keep your guard, but perhaps at a distance. I will be nearby as well, but they need some privacy just now."
"Understood." The Auror gave the door a long look before he made for the gate. "I will be along the front of the property."
"Why are they guarding him?" MC asked.
Ominis frowned. "Not all the slavers have been caught yet, and every survivor is a witness. It's for Sebastian's protection."
"Anyone coming for him will have to get through me first," she growled. It gave her some of her strength back to think that anyone might be about to snatch him away from her again, and she hadn't even seen him yet.
Ominis held her close for a moment. "I don't doubt it," he said. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she looked up at him in surprise. Ominis was not one for overly displaying affection. "Will you be alright, now?"
"Yes," she said. "And thank you. Thank you for bringing me here."
"It's only where you belong, MC," he said. He moved from her grip and knocked on the door. "I doubt you will need me, but I won't be far away. He...he did not take the news well that there is another gentleman in your life."
MC could well imagine it. Sebastian wasn't the sharing type, especially when it came to her. But then, she would have felt just the same if another woman had laid a hand on him. She opened her mouth to reassure Ominis, but the latch sounded on the door.
The door opened, the light from inside spilling out onto the front step. MC stared, eyes wide, heart pounding as Sebastian stepped into view.
"You have a visitor, brother," Ominis said. He gave MC a gentle nudge forward.
Sebastian and MC looked at each other for the first time in almost three years. Her eyes devoured his face, ogling the shape of him, lines and angles she knew so well, but they were oddly strange to her now. He looked leaner, shadows under his eyes making him look weary, and there was a scar on his forehead that disappeared into his hair line.
Her name whispered from his lips. She took a faltering step towards him, and then another. He just stared, his eyes trying to comprehend that she was truly there at all. Her hand reached up, her fingers trembling so badly, that she missed on her first attempt. But then, she was touching him.
Her fingers trailed from his forehead, down over his nose to brush against his mouth. "You're real," she breathed. "It's really you."
A tear slid from his eye, rolling over his cheek. Her lips trembled. And then she was in his arms, crushed against him, as a sob ripped from her throat.
He held her so tightly that she could hardly breathe, but she didn't care. She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing him in with small gasps, her fingers gripping at whatever she could get a hold of. He was solid, he was warm, he was here, alive.
Ominis slipped quietly away into the shadows, leaving husband and wife to find each other again.
....*....
The inside of the cottage was sparsely furnished but warm, a fire burning in the grate. The remains of a half eaten meal was on a tray, and a blanket was hanging off the edge of the settee.
MC wandered in behind Sebastian, her eyes constantly checking he was still there, feeling a little adrift since he had released her from that choking hug. He hadn't looked at her since, his face tense as he began to pace before the fireplace.
"I can't believe you're actually here," she said. "It's like a dream."
He spun to face her, his eyes hard. She flinched as he strode towards her, snatching up her hand to look at Matthew's diamond on her ring finger. He dropped her hand as if it burned him. "Some fucking dream," he hissed.
"Sebastian..."
"Do you have any idea what it was like!" He snapped. His face was so harsh, so cold. "Night after night, the screams, the beatings. An endless loop of nothingness. I thought I was going to go mad, I felt myself slipping away, but I kept hanging on. It was you! Your face, my memory of you, that kept me going. And now, now I find out that you replaced me! You're wearing another man's ring on your finger instead of the one I gave you!"
His voice had reached a pitch that made her press her fingers to her face, the fury in his eyes so much to bear that she gasped, her heart breaking into a thousand splinters.
He growled viciously and kicked out at a chair at the table. It clattered to the floor.
"I'm sorry," she gasped. "Let me explain..."
He glared at her. "Does he touch you? Does he make you feel good?"
MC remembered the kiss her and Matthew had shared mere hours ago and flushed, but she shook her head. "No, Sebastian, please..."
"You're lying," he spat. He began to pace again, his hands raking through his hair. He swore harshly.
MC gritted her teeth. Her own shame at accepting Matthew gnawed at her, had she not felt like she was betraying Sebastian? She had not wanted to let him go, but had tried to, tried to please her friends, tried to be happy.
This was not how she had envisioned a reunion taking place. She watched Sebastian pace, his fury darkening his face, the pain flickering in and out in his eyes. "Stop this," she said. "I never stopped loving you."
He lunged for her arm, holding her hand up between them. The ring shone brightly in the firelight. "This says different."
His face was close and her heart ached for him. She felt the sting of tears. She fumbled her chain from out of her blouse, his ring hanging from it. "I never let you go, not really," she said.
He eyed the ring and then her. He shook his head. "You were all I thought about." He sounded broken.
He released her arm and turned away.
"I had to bury you!" She wailed.
He stiffened.
Her hands curled into small fists. "We had a ceremony, each of us saying how much we loved you. We put momentoes in a box and buried it because there was no body to say goodbye to. I wrote you letters, hundreds of them, but I had nowhere to send them. I had to bury them in the ground, with all the hope I could barely hang on to that you were still alive."
He turned to face her. She was really crying now, huge, fat tears of despair. She jabbed a finger at him. "You were gone. I was alone, so fucking alone, and I tried to find you. Searching, begging, pleading, driving everyone mad with my nonstop hope that you would be found. I almost threw myself into death's arms at one point, I thought it might be the only way to escape the pain of you not being there when I woke up every day."
Sebastian swallowed, some of the fury fading from his face. "You...you were going to kill yourself?"
She was panting, sucking in deep breaths, chest tight. She swiped the tears from her face and turned away from him, her cheeks colouring with her shame. She had never admitted that out loud until now. She calmed herself, smoothing her hands over her hips
"How was I supposed to go on without you? It was a really low point, but I was lucky. I had friends who cared enough to pick me up. And then...and then I met Matthew."
Sebastian scowled. But MC continued. "He was kind, he tried to help me. He works at the Ministry and he tried to help in my search for you. He took care of me, he never pressed me for anything in return."
"Sounds like a right hero," Sebastian muttered.
"Maybe he is," she said, whirling to face him. "He was certainly there for me. After we all said goodbye to you, he asked me to marry him. I agonised over it, but eventually accepted. But do you know what he said when Ominis came to get me tonight? He told me to come to you, that it was only right that I did. He didn't try to stop me."
"He wouldn't have got far if he had tried," Sebastian growled. He stalked towards her, his hand catching hold of her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "How could you ever think about letting him touch you?"
MC was breathing hard and fast again, her heart hammering in her chest. Their gazes were locked, the fire in Sebastian's eyes shifting from fury to pure desire, a hunger so deep and vast she was starting to drown in it. A flame flickered into life deep inside her, trails of fire spreading thick and fast through her veins.
He could still do it. After all this time apart, he made her blood sing, made her melt into the merest touch. "We didn't...he hasn't..." She swallowed hard. "I wasn't ready."
He lowered his face to hers. "Good," he breathed into her mouth. "You're mine, and I'm yours. That's it!"
MC lowered her eyes to his mouth. Slowly, agonisingly slow, he leant in and pressed his lips against hers. A moan, relief mixed with need, sounded in MC's throat.
He gripped her hair at the back of her head, kissing her deeply, stumbling back towards the table with her. Desperate groans fell from their lips as he lifted her skirt, parting her legs as she sat up on the edge of the table.
He stroked his fingers against her heat, finding it pleasingly wet. "Oh fuck," he groaned. He shifted, opening his trousers and pulling his arousal free.
Need came before anything else. He pressed inside of her, thrusting deep, greedily. She cried out at the immediate stretch. It had been a long time, his thickness burning along her walls, but she didn't stop him. Instead, her hips lifted to meet him, needing to feel him fill her up. His eyes were glazed, drunk on the very feel of her, he began to thrust, deep, desperate, like a man starved.
His fingers dug into her flesh, his lips were parted and his breaths came harshly as he fucked. He wasn't violent, but neither was he gentle. His release came hard and fast, his hips bucking desperately and a growl tearing from his mouth as he collapsed over her. She held him, her hand stroking through the unruly locks of his hair, calming him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. His head was buried against her chest. "Did I hurt you?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. It felt so good to be holding him again. It had been a long time, she had understood his need, let him take what he longed for.
He straightened and took hold of her hand. "Come on," he said.
"Where are we going?"
He smirked. Her heart glowed at the sight of it. The memory of that smirk had haunted her dreams, but there it was, for real. "I'm taking my wife upstairs to my bed," he said. "I am far from done with you."
....*....
MC couldn't have told a soul what that bedroom looked like when she first entered it. So intent were they on each other, removing every barrier of clothing, tossing it all to the floor without a care, just desperate to feel skin against skin.
The blanket was cold against her back, no fire up here, just the moonlight gleaming through the window. She arched her back, welcoming the feel of Sebastian's lips as he kissed her breasts, learning every curve again like it was the first time.
Her heart beat for him, her pulse skittering madly as he sucked at her neck, his hands exploring the curve of her waist. Her nipples brushed against his chest hair, hardening into desperate peaks. Fuck, she was aching with the need for him, it was almost a pain that only he could heal.
"Sebastian," she whined.
"I know," he whispered. He kissed her, his teeth tugging on her bottom lip. "Patience, my love, I need to taste all of you. Trust me, I will give you what you seek, and more."
MC moaned, her fingers seeking greedily through his hair, massaging his scalp, drawing moans from his lips. Every sound he made was a balm against the pain in her chest. He was alive. He was here.
Her fingers traced new scars on his chest, hurts he had endured so far from home. She kissed them, her tongue trying to soothe the pain inflicted on him. She caught a nipple in between her teeth and tugged, his cock twitching and dripping onto her thigh.
She reached for him, teasing fingers drifting up the silky hardness. "MC..."
She smiled against his skin, breathing in the scent of him, feeling like she was finally at peace. She began to stroke up and down his length and his hips bucked. He groaned and pressed her back down onto the bed. "No," he breathed. "It's your turn."
His mouth worshipped her stomach, his tongue dipping into her navel, swirling hotly. She found herself lost in a haze of fire, only his mouth, his hands, the sounds of his breathing mattered. She reached up to grip the blanket behind her head, her thighs separating, her hips grinding as his hot tongue slid luxuriously up her slit.
Oh, he knew what she liked!
Waves of delicious flame circled hotly at her core as his tongue swirled over her clit, his fingers teasing cries from her lips as he fucked her, slow, and with a knowing touch. She whimpered, her thighs beginning to tremble, as her release began to build.
Three years without him, three years of yearning, and now he was here, driving her over the edge again, sending her spinning outwards to see stars. Her fingers gripped his hair, holding his head right where she needed him most as her climax hit.
She was shaking, tears flooding her eyes, and he held her. His kisses warmed her cheeks, her neck, his hands smoothing up her back and over her hips. "That's my girl," he whispered. "Gods, I have missed you."
Barely having caught her breath back, Sebastian rolled them, settling her above him. "Fuck me," he begged. "Show me how much you missed me. I want to watch as you fuck me."
Aftershocks tingled through MC, her cunt pulsing with a need to feel him deep inside her. She caught his arousal in her hand, pumping him softly, her thumb sliding over his tip. He held her hips, his hungry eyes watching as she lined him up against her soaked entrance. He parted his lips, anticipation thick on his tongue, a delicious groan leaving him as she slid on to his cock.
She rolled her hips, her head falling back, her hair trailing down her back, the moonlight soft against the sweat on her skin. He let her move at her own pace, licking his lips at the sounds coming from her throat, at the hot slickness of her walls sliding along him.
MC still had a hunger for him, a need to feel out of control, lost in him. She angled her hips, ensuring that his throbbing tip was stroking just where she needed him. The pressure began to build and she began to bounce harder. His hands caressing her breasts as they jiggled with her efforts.
He was appreciating every move she made, his hips bucking to meet her, his own fire building to the limit. "Cum for me, MC," he said. He slid a thumb to press against her nub. She cried out, her hips twitching. He looked down, saw the slick shining on his cock. He licked his lips. "Mine, all mine."
She clenched around him, desperate cries echoing around the room. Sebastian knew the Auror was still outside. He hoped he could hear her, let the whole fucking world hear what he did to her. She was his wife, his love, his fucking everything. He wanted everyone to know it.
Driven mad by his utter need to claim her again, he flipped her, her hair fanning out across the blanket. He grabbed her hand, tugging the diamond free and letting it tumble across the bed. He linked their fingers, his eyes roaming over her as she panted below him. He saw his ring, attached to the chain around her neck, pooling in the dip of her throat.
He bent to catch it up into his mouth, rolling it on the tip of his tongue. He bent to kiss her, softly, his cock aching to fuck her, the ring caught between their mouths.
"I love you," she breathed. "I've never stopped."
He smiled, the ring slipping to fall onto the bed near her ear. He would be putting that right back on her finger where it belonged. But first...
He slid into her, rolling his hips, revelling in the way she clenched around him, sucking him deeper. He couldn't hold it off any longer. He fucked her, hard, unforgiving, burying her into the mattress under the fire of his need. She clung to him, her nails scraping against his flesh and he savoured every scratch.
The sweat dripped from his face, the room was filled with the slap of their skin, the grunts and cries of their pleasure, and then he squeezed his eyes shut, hips bucking. Hot release spilled into her, and she squeezed her muscles, drawing every last drop from him.
They collapsed into a breathless heap of limbs, mouths seeking and finding each other in a long, slow kiss.
As their breathing calmed, and their flesh cooled, he drew the blanket over them both, holding her close. She looked sleepy, content. He kissed her forehead. As he settled onto the pillow beside her, holding her warmth close, he thanked every star for letting him get back to her.
His nightmares hovered over his shoulder, but he grit his teeth, willing them to stay away. Let him have tonight, just tonight, to hold her, to remember.
Tomorrow, the healing could begin for real.
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Little Lady Masterlist
age twenty-two
Announcements Over Dinner
maggie.hughes
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liked by maggie.hughes, anaheimducks, jackhughes and 79,082 more
maggie.hughes taking after my momma, sharing my love through food <3
elblue6 i could not be more proud of the woman you have become <3
jackhughes are you proud of who we've become?
maggie.hughes love you mom <3
maggie.hughes and jack, she can't be proud of the woman you've become when you're not a woman
_quinnhughes he's not?!
jackhughes i hate you both
trevorzegras you should really just drop being a nurse and be a professional chef
maggie.hughes thanks trevy <3
trevorzegras also i'd like to say this is a lie, her main love language is physical affection
"Why are we all talking in my Instagram comments when all of my cooking is layed out in front of us?" I ask, looking over my family that sits around, phones in hand.
"I'm sorry sweetie, you're right," Mom agrees, Dad and the boys nodding along and tucking the phones away.
"The food looks great, Mags," Quinn is the one to compliment, everyone in motion now as their hands reach and grab for the celebration dinner Mom and I made this afternoon. "However, before we eat, I think our girl Margaret deserves some words."
"Quinn-"
"You're my baby sister, let me brag," Is how he interrupts me, standing from his seat next to me, "So, it's been twenty-two years of these two ruining my life," Cue his gesturing to Jack and myself, the two of us rolling our eyes. "And I wouldn't have ever had it any other way. While we all are able to see Jack's, and Luke's and my own accomplishments for that matter each week, Maggie's accomplishments haven't always been so loud."
"From being in honor societies from the first grade on, to her volunteer work and academic awards, while also supporting all of us, she's had more accomplishments than any of us. And tomorrow marks the biggest one yet."
"Mags," He continues, addressing me directly now as I try to furiously wipe the tears from under my eyes. "I could not be more proud of you for everything you've done to get here, and for the fact that tomorrow we'll be able to say that you're Margaret Hughes, RN. I love you kid. To Maggie!"
"To Maggie!" Everyone cheers, making me laugh through my cheek splitting smile, hugging him as tight as I possibly can as I stand beside him.
"Thank you Q."
"Anything for you Mags, you know that."
And while this would be the perfect opportunity to sit back down and just enjoy dinner, I look to Trev, his eyes already on mine as though he's read my mind.
"Actually, I'd like to make an announcement while we have everyones attentio-"
"You're not pregnant are you?" Luke is the one to question, eyes giant as Jack mutters angrily about the thought of Trevor and I having sex.
"No, no, I'm not anywhere near pregnant Lu," I assure, Mom releasing a sigh of relief. "But I've been offered a job with the Ducks as their team sports medical nurse."
Silence. That's all that's that can be heard.
"And I've decided to take it."
"You did WHAT?"
"Maggie, I can't allow this," Quinn follows Jacks yell, Lu sitting in shocked silence as Trev moves his hand onto my thigh, giving me a squeeze of support.
"Boys." Mom is the one to speak up, Dad's eyes simply staring between Trev and I. "She's made her decision."
"You knew," Dad speaks up, looking to his wife.
"She needed someones opinion. She's twenty-one and wanted to move across the country for a job. That's a big decision."
"One that should have been discussed with both her parents," Dad's quick to return, and while we've grown up in a peaceful household, we know all the signs of mom and dad fighting.
"I'm an adult."
"You're twenty-"
"I'm twenty-one, of legal age and legal drinking age. I've also been taking care of others since I was little. And I am old enough to move for an amazing opportunity, one that you should be thrilled for me to have been offered," I scold, Trev's hand moving to my own as I stare over the men of my family. "I will be moving to California a week from tomorrow. And you will all be happy for me or you will be quiet."
"Mag-"
"No, she's right," Lu speaks up. "She's moving for an amazing opportunity and we're all being a bunch of dickheads."
"Luke!" Mom can't help but chime in, "Watch your language, correct or not."
"We're happy for you, Mags, trust me," Quinn speaks up. "We're just surprised."
"I understand that but-"
"But that reaction was ridiculous, and if you weren't her family I'd have some choice words for all of you," Trevor speaks up, looking over the table. "She's doing amazing things in the world and you all need to be proud of her. Cause if anyone loves her as much as me it's all of you and that's not showing right now."
"To Maggie," Jack speaks up, smiling at me. "For not only becoming a kickass nurse, but also for this huge step on her life."
And I smile, because I knew it would be rocky, but I knew they'd support me regardless.
We're the Hughes.
"To Maggie!"
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icycoldninja · 10 days
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Hey there, I love your writing style especially for vergil:)
I have an angsty idea since you like angst.
Have you heard of the troupe where "the older person ruins the life of the younger one that they wanted to help." ?
I think vergil and the reader are meant for this dynamic lol.
Ayy, thanks, means a lot to hear that 💜 Though I haven't heard of that trope, I'm gonna do my best to do it justice, don't worry. Thank u for the ask, I do love angst. 🫠
Misguided (Vergil X Reader angst)
Vergil had to have been the most overprotective man you'd ever met. He hated seeing you sad, or even wearing a frown, and went to extremes to keep that from happening. He'd done his very best to protect you and keep you safe, but it seemed that what he did wasn't enough.
Or maybe, it was too much.
In order to keep you from ever having to feel sad or pressured, he scared away all your friends. In order to keep your life stress-free, he threatened and blackmailed your boss so you would receive lighter workloads. To keep you all to himself, he intimidated all the men in your life so no one would be tempted to take you away. To make sure you'd never die from an accident, he secretly sabatoged your car. To make sure you could never get robbed or assaulted, he stole your keys and never let you go out without him coming too. He also took control of all your affairs, from paying the bills to doing your taxes so you wouldn't have to worry.
Anything you could have possibly needed to do, he did for you. He took care of you the way a parent looks after a child, growing more and more possessive and jealous each day. He thought that he was doing you a favor; that taking on all the responsibilities was making your life easier, when in reality, it wasn't.
Your friends refused to contact you, your boss had fired you because he was afraid to give you work because he couldn't afford to pay an employee who did nothing, and no one you knew, even your family, would speak to you because they were afraid Vergil would come after them if they said something to make you feel bad. You now had nothing and no one except for Vergil, who insisted on taking charge of everything in your life. You felt so trapped, so alone and isolated.
Could you really be blamed you now that you wanted to leave?
"I'm sorry," You told him, tears running down your face as you dragged your suitcase to the front door. "I just can't do this anymore. I...I can't live like this."
"Why not?" Vergil demanded, gripping your arm in a fearful attempt to keep you from leaving. "You have everything here. What more could you possibly need?"
"That's the problem," You replied, furiously wiping your eyes with yor free hand. "I have everything here, and at the same time, nothing."
"What do you mean?" Vergil asked, his voice unusually quivering. "You are safe here. There is nothing that can hurt you. If you go out there, you will be alone. No one will come to help you."
"Exactly," You said, sniffling. "I'm alone. I have nothing. Thanks to you, I'm jobless, I have no friends, and my family won't even speak to me!"
"But you have everything you need here," Vergil insisted, tightening his grip on your arm. "You do not need a job, or friends, if I am taking care of you."
"But I don't want that!" You exclaimed, jerking your arm away. "I'm a grown adult, I can take care of myself! I don't need you to baby me! I want to live my own life and make my own decisions!" When you saw the shocked, heartbroken expression on Vergil's face, you felt a lump form in your throat. Swallowing hard, you spun around and unlocked the door.
"I'm sorry, Vergil, this...this is hard to say, but...it's over."
With that, you tore open the door and disappeared into the night, leaving the shocked, despondent half devil standing in the darkened hallway all alone.
Sinking into a nearby chair with his head in his hands, Vergil had to wonder what he'd done to have such a tragedy befall him. What did he do wrong? Why did you have to leave? He gave you everything you wanted, why did you still want more? Wasn't what he did enough for you?
What the forlorn half-devil failed to realize was that though his intentions were pure, his methods for carrying them out were horribly misguided.
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izanyas · 6 months
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Fic Commissions: OPEN!
Hello! As some of you might know, I recently lost one of my two part-time jobs, and the remaining one barely earns me anything. I need some € to keep me going until I can be a bit more stable professionally, so I've decided to tentatively re-open fic commissions.
For now, I'll take 2 slots at a time, to see how it goes.
Rules:
I will only accept commissions from adults. I don't care if your 20yo friend is the one paying, if the prompt is from a minor, it's no.
I will accept commissions for any fandom I've written before (you can check the list at my AO3), as well as other pieces of media I have already watched/read. Feel free to ask. I will not, however, get into something entirely new for a commission.
I will write gen, romance, action, angst, crime, fluff, humor, smut, horror, pretty much any genre out there. Here are some more details:
Gore/violence is fine unless something squicks me personally.
I can write about abuse of any kind, but I won't write gratuitous explicit scenes of abuse on their own.
I will not write smut of minors. Smut of aged-up characters can be done depending on the characters and fandoms (post-canon/AU stuff for characters who are already well into their teenage years in canon, for example) but not indiscriminately. If I say no, then it's no.
Any queer relationship, identity, lifestyle is welcome.
I'm open to kink/BDSM prompts, we can discuss my limits/squicks in private.
AUs/crossovers/canon divergences are welcome.
OCs are welcome. OC/canon character ships are welcome. Reader insert is welcome. Pairings that I don't ship are welcome.
I will not write incest.
I will not write egregious age gap ships involving minors. 35yo/25yo is fine by me, but 25yo/15yo is a no.
I will not write updates/sequels/prequels for existing fics of mine.
I reserve the right to refuse a prompt for no other reason than not wanting to write it.
Prices:
1k words: 20€
2k words: 40€
3k words: 60€
4k words: 75€
5k words: 90€
6k words: 100€
Y'all know I am long-winded so if I go overboard by a couple thousand hundred words I won't make you pay extra for it, no worries.
How it works:
Requests are to be made by DM here or on Twitter, or by email at [email protected]. The length and details of the story will be decided together before I start writing. Feel free to ask for as many (or as few) things as you want.
I will ask for a down payment of 10€ for 1k words and 20€ for longer stories. Payment will be done via P@yP@l. The rest of the payment should be transferred once the story is finished, and before I post it. Example: for 3k words (60€), I will ask for 20€ before writing, and the remaining 40€ once the story is done.
Stories will be posted directly at AO3, in order to avoid a repeat of nasty past experiences (me sending a fic privately only for it to be reposted by the person under their own name lol).
If I am unable to finish the story for any reason, the down payment will be given back to you.
Thank you for reading! I would appreciate you sharing this post to anyone you know who has read my stories before, or who you think would enjoy reading and therefore commissioning them. Or just sharing the post in general.
If you can't commission me but would like to support me, you are always welcome to tip me on Ko-fi.
smooch smooch kiss 💓 :)
-Ro
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On Infantilization and Tech
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I'll say it because I'm extra spicy today.
I see a lot of folks saying that Tech shouldn't be infantilized, and he should not be kept away from adult relationships.
Got it. 100% agree.
However....
Infantilization isn't just regarding relationships. It also involves how the person is perceived in greater society.
So....when you're writing about Tech, let me ask you:
Is he respected as an adult? His opinion taken seriously?
Are his ideas dismissed as childish or dorky?
Does he have a cool and/or IMPORTANT job? Or is he shoved into Dork Corner dicking around with engine parts?
Is his partner the dominant one who takes charge of everything?
Is it another team member in charge?
Is he contributing in a way that is fulfilling and respectful of his background and knowledge?
Or is he just toddering around until someone rescues him?
I get plot, I understand that character arcs need to happen. But every time I start a fic where Tech's being bossed around or taken care of by someone else, canon or otherwise, I immediately log out.
Why am I saying all of this?
Because I am a neurodivergent person who receives this horseshit on a regular basis.
I'm not a dumbass or lazy. I have a Ph.D and have been working in my field for 16 years. But I have been passed over and mocked and teased and shoved into corners because I'm biologically female, I'm a wife and mother, and I am vaguely on the spectrum.
Poor wittle Dr. Meat Muffin and her weak womanly ways, must help her over puddles and shit.
I'm putting in my yearly review right now. I expect that I will be talked down by my department director, despite performing wildly well.
I will be going to a conference shortly too. My colleagues with the smoother, charming voices will use the grants I wrote as a basis for THEIR grant writing course, of which I am being forced to take.
Learning about writing properly using your own writing as an example is a level of hell I didn't know existed and yet, here I am.
Maybe it's God's punishment for that Spiderman/Tech drawing I did earlier, who the fuck knows.
The point is, when you're writing about neurodivergent people, give them opportunities to use their skills and brains and contribute in fulfilling ways.
There's more than one way to infantilize someone, don't be that person.
Bleh.
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