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#slams fists on the table with tears in my eyes
seeingivy · 2 days
Text
sweet irony
ryomen sukuna x f!reader
**part of my best friend's older brother fic
previous part linked here
--
you stare down at your phone – the picture of you and sukuna cheesing into the camera staring back at you – as the quiet pulsating starts teeming in your head. 
he’s dead. you’ve wished him dead for years, hundreds of times in passing, and now he’s actually dead. 
and now you’ll have to tell yuuji. 
you take a beat before walking back into the sweltering hot air of the bar, the blaring music making your heart race as you push through the crowd. and it takes you twenty minutes before you reach the table where yuuji is again, standing still to watch as he leans his head against megumi on the stool, while nobara finishes off the last of his drink.  
you can’t help but pause, your heart sinking into the deepest pits of dread, as he digs the cherry in the drink out of the ice, as you walk up to his side, shaking at his shoulder. 
your dad is dead. 
“hey, you’re back! do you want the another?” yuuji asks, the stem of the cherry sticking out of the side of his mouth as he holds a shot glass in front of your face, almost tauntingly, 
“no, no. um –” 
your dad is dead. your piece of shit dad is dead and you have to leave. 
you take the glass from him, accidentally slamming it down too hard on the table to the point where it shatters, as yuuji looks over at you, eyes wide. there’s a quiet gasp as almost everyone around you gives you a weary look, before turning back to their own conversations. 
you look down at your hand, the smallest amount of crimson red staring back at you, as you ball your hand into a fist and ignore it. 
“jesus. you okay, she-hulk?” he asks. 
you look back up at him. 
“yeah, it’s fine. we have to go home.” you respond. 
“what? don’t tell me you’re going to start being a bore now that you’re old. we just got here and we’re not leaving until sukuna is dragging all four of us out on our asses.” yuuji responds, earning him a laugh and a smile from nobara and megumi. 
“just come with me. we can talk on the way.” you respond, reaching for his wrist as you start pulling.
“we’re celebrating your birthday! after someone ruined it, mind you…” yuuji jokes, pulling you back towards the table. 
“shut up! how was i supposed to know that maki and mai were going to make a scene?” nobara mutters. 
“you literally started the fight, nobara.” megumi mutters. 
“and i apologized for that!” nobara responds, reaching over to flick megumi in the side of the forehead. 
you place your hand on yuuji’s bicep, squeezing hard, as you feel hot tears in your eyes and an almost soreness in your throat – knowing that whatever you say next is irrevocably about to change something for him as you lean forward. 
“yuuji. your dad passed away, we…we have to go.” 
megumi and nobara turn their heads, the former spilling the drink in his glass all over the table. 
“what?” yuuji asks. 
yuuji subconsciously pulls his arm back, eyes incredulous as he looks down at you. 
“yuuji. really, i…” 
“what did you just say?” megumi asks. 
“i…i don’t know how it happened, sukuna was so brief on the phone when he asked us to come that..” 
“wait, what?” nobara says. 
“sukuna. he called me and asked me to bring yuuji back. or both of us, i don’t..” 
you watch as yuuji digs his phone out of his pocket – a plethora of calls from both sukuna and his mom shining on his screen – as he scrolls through the texts, before he looks back up at you and swallows hard. 
“i had more to drink than you did.” he responds, his voice stiff as gravel. 
the look in his eyes is haunting. his dad is dead. 
“i’ll bring the car around.” you respond. 
“megumi. go with her. sukuna would kill me if he found out i let her walk out there alone.” yuuji responds, his focus halfhearted as he looks down at his phone, dialing his mom’s number as he presses the phone against his ear. 
his dad is dead. he needs a second. 
megumi gives you a curt nod before linking in his arm with yours and pushing his way through the crowd, uncharacteristically rough as the two of you run out the doors. and you’re both speed walking down the block, hands shaking as you pull open the doors of the car, and shove the key into the engine. 
“oh god, his mom is probably losing her shit. she’s going to be a mess when we get there, megumi.” you mutter. 
you pull out of the spot, fighting the urge to honk at the hounds of pedestrians that cross, as you nervously twiddle your fingers on the wheel. 
“sukuna’s probably there, alone, right now.” you mumble. 
you feel your throat dry. 
“i hope that…that his dad’s not still there when we get there. i don’t even..” 
“i’m not coming.” he whispers.. 
you accidentally push the break too hard and the car jolts, shooting megumi an apologetic smile as one of the groups of pedestrians flip you off. 
megumi notes that what he said came out a little more harshly than he intended it to, but it’s only because of his frustration, and what the questions he knows are going to follow after. 
“what? of course you are, he’s…” 
“i mean, i can’t.”
you frown. 
“of course, you can. in fact, you should. he’s your boyfriend.” 
it takes a split second for you to realize why yuuji’s always so defensive when it comes to you and sukuna. surely megumi can’t be serious. 
“y/n.” 
“megumi. you spend like every waking second with the guy. what’s your issue now?” you seethe. 
“i’m not going to make things more complicated by meeting his mom for the first time on the night she became a widow, y/n.” megumi responds. 
you swallow hard, the soreness in your throat making your eyes water, as you give him a nod and clench the steering wheel so hard that it makes your skin nearly break. 
of course that’s why he couldn’t go. you’re an idiot. 
the stinging on your palm from the glass only gets worse as you pull up outside the bar, and honk twice for good measure. 
“one thing, y/n.” megumi states. 
“what?” 
“i know that sukuna is your person. but yuuji’s mine. please don’t forget to be there for him too.”  he begs. 
you reach forward, squeezing megumi’s hand in yours. 
“of course i won’t forget about him. i’ll send you updates, okay?” you whisper. 
he gives you a nod as yuuji and nobara come tumbling out of the front door a few minutes later, nobara pressing him into a hard hug before letting ago, and rubbing at her biceps in the cold. and it gets even worse as you watch megumi and yuuji – being so openly affectionate while not being black out drunk for the first time – as they lean their foreheads against each others, before kissing goodbye. 
the entire car shifts as yuuji sits in the car, eyes teary and sniffling as he looks over at you, and nods. 
“let’s go.” 
it feels wrong to leave megumi behind, but you do it anyway. 
--
it takes an hour and a half to get there. yuuji’s uncharacteristically quiet, leaning his head against the glass of the window, as you try to drive as fast as you can on the highway. your headache, the dread, the stinging in your hand – it all seemed to get worse as time goes on, as you get closer to your house, and to whatever’s waiting for you. 
halfway through you offer yuuji your uninjured hand, which he takes, and doesn’t let go of as the two of you walk to the porch. 
“wait.” yuuji whispers. 
“what? what is it?” 
yuuji pauses, heaving a sigh before he looks at you, eyes watery. 
“i want one more second of normal before…before i…” 
“of course, yuuji.” you mumble back, leaning forward to tuck yourself into his embrace, his arms shaking as he wraps them around you. 
and you get what he means – you can feel your heart sink as you hear the raised voices, and what you’re sure is mrs. itadori’s wailing, as you squeeze yuuji harder. 
“you’re always so warm, y/n.” yuuji mumbles. 
you give him a smile as you pull back and ring on the doorbell. and it’s a split second before 
sammy swings the door open, eyes wide as she wraps her arms around yuuji first. 
“hey kid. you okay?” she murmurs. 
“yeah, sam..” 
“the moms and sukuna are in the dining room. go, go.” she whispers, rubbing his back once more for good measure before pushing him in the right direction. 
and then sammy looks back at you, giving you a smile, before she immediately crumbles into a mess of tears. 
“holy shit, y/n. i’m so fucking glad you’re here.”
you open up your arms, taken aback by the mess of her braid and the state she’s in, as she tucks herself into your neck, her tears spilling onto your skin. and you rub circles into her back in unison with her panting breaths, before gesturing for her to explain. 
“he just collapsed out of nowhere. i was in the fucking bathroom for gods sake and i just heard them shouting before…before mrs. itadori literally screamed bloody murder…i just came out and..” she whispers. 
you squeeze her a little bit harder, her cries getting stifled into your shoulder as you whisper into her ear, trying to calm her down. 
“sammy.” you whisper. 
“his pulse was gone. i did cpr for twenty minutes before they got here and they said there was nothing i could have done. i’m a fucking nurse, for fucks sake, and i just…i don’t even…” 
“you did what you could have.” you murmur. 
you can tell that she doesn’t believe you. and that she’s in some kind of shock from the way her eyes are so lifeless – the only thing convincing you that she's still really there with you being the quiet breaths that leave her mouth. 
after ten minutes of holding her, she pulls back, wiping at her nose. 
“i can’t believe he’s dead.” she mutters miserably. 
“me too.” 
“is…am i shitty for being upset? he’s an asshole but…but he was around for so long and well –” 
“no, sammy. we’ve known him forever.” you affirm. . 
“you should check on sukuna, by the way. they asked him questions for a while when he got here, because…because mrs. itadori and i were too hysterical. mom helped but she didn’t know most of the stuff and..” 
you wonder if he had been afforded time to cry yet. though you knew how these things go and that somehow, he’d be the last one to get the privilege to process it all. 
“okay, come on.” you respond, the two of you linking your arms together as you walk into the dining room. 
you feel your heart pinch as you walk into the dining room – at the sight of both mrs. itadori and yuuji crying – with sukuna’s hand slung across yuuji’s chair. there’s an almost…gaunt look on sukuna’s face, devoid of any emotion, as he only locks his eyes with yours in recognition, before turning his attention back to yuuji.
you give a small wave to your own mother, who gives you a halfhearted smile, before placing a she places a glass of water in front of yuuji and mrs. itadori, and taking the seats next to them. 
sammy’s crying at your side again, quietly muffling her own tears into your shoulder, as you squeeze at her side, before setting her down in the chair before leaving to get her water. and  it’s only in the kitchen that you realize that the inner part of your hand is a bloody mess, with the stained red going all the way down to your wrist, as you walk over to the sink. 
“what happened?” 
you nearly jump to find sukuna at your side, leaning over your shoulder as he eyes the red in the sink, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, the wetness dripping onto his shirt. 
he doesn’t hug back. he’s softens underneath you, his shoulders less stiff, but he doesn’t hug back. 
“nothing. it was just a glass back at the bar. you…what happened to you? are you okay? what can i do to help because i know that…” 
sukuna leans back, offering you a halfhearted smile, before reaching for the closest drawer and pulling a glass box of bandages and alcohol wipes out. 
“let me clean it.” 
you frown before holding your hand out for him, watching as he quietly opens the packet, and gently cleans the area, before wrapping it in a white bandage. and when he touches the inner portion of your wrist, he looks up at you before placing the back of his hand against your forehead. 
“you’re running hot.” he states. 
“it’s warm in here.” you respond. 
“it’s not. you’re getting a cold.” 
yuuji’s comment from earlier makes sense now. you sigh, noting the soreness in your throat feeling almost swollen now, as you shake your head at him. 
“really. what can i do to help? i know this is a lot and…” you mumble. 
you’re unable to place the expression on sukuna’s face. it’s almost like he cringes. 
“i’m right here.” 
“can you stay with yuuji?” he asks. 
you pause. 
“what?” 
that’s not what you had in mind. 
“we have to do the funeral sooner than later. saturday is our best bet with everyone having work off so i have to pull shit together, really fast. and i can do it, but…but not while dealing with both of them. can you stay with him? please?” 
the question dies on your tounge. what about you? 
“yeah, of course i can, but –” 
sukuna nods, before placing a bottle of nyquil in your uninjured hand. 
“take this twice a day.” he responds, squeezing your shoulder once as he retreats back out to the main room. 
--
you don’t see sukuna for two days. or well, you do, but he’s always preoccupied. not really there. on the phone with the funeral planner, comforting his mom, or dealing with the hospital bills and belongings that were left behind. 
he declines your offer to sleep with him, because he sleeps on the floor in his moms room. he doesn’t eat the breakfast you because he has to go pick out the flowers – and doesn’t make any jokes about how he’d save himself from the food poisoning before eating your food. 
it’s just as well you suppose, because you really do get a fever, and staying with yuuji takes up enough of your time. 
unlike the former – a solid fortress of almost nothing – yuuji swings between two moods, either being awfully quiet and insatiably angry. 
you’re not sure which one is better. the lack of babbling from yuuji is haunting in every situation – but it’s so hard to discern what it is that he’s feeling that sometimes all you can do is crawl into his bed with him and stare at the ceiling together. 
you were half convinced that it did nothing until the second day, when yuuji offered you a thank you for the silence before trotting off to shower. 
the anger is a little bit easier to handle. only because whatever it is that he is feeling comes pouring out of his mouth so freely that you’re at least able to pinpoint what it is that makes him mad. 
that he’s dead. that he died without changing. that he won’t ever change and that in the grand scheme of things, yuuji’s history will always be murked by a shitty, homophobic asshole. 
“he’s such a fucking prick.” yuuji mutters, angrily slamming the door of his closet, as you readjust on his bed. 
was. he was such a prick. 
“and why the fuck is my mom crying so much? god knows how many bottles of wine she’s fucking drank trying to temper the fucking rage he filled her with. she should be happy that she doesn’t have to deal with him anymore.” 
yuuji looks over at you, quickly handing you the tissue that you were reaching for, before returning to his rant. 
“like grow a fucking spine. she’s making sukuna do everything. he’s only fucking twenty-five, for fucks sake. all i’ve watched her do is fucking ball her eyes out and lie down on that god damn couch while he plans the entire funeral and spends lal day calling god knows who.” 
yuuji’s nervous pacing makes the jacket of his suit fall off of the hanger, his irritation clearly getting worse, as you lift your hands, gesturing for him to take a seat as you reach for it. you lift it off the floor, sling it back onto the hanger and make a mental note to steam the crease before the funeral tomorrow, before turning back to him and taking a seat at his side. 
you lean your head on his shoulder, as he brings his hand up to your hair, tangling through the knots. 
“i wish megumi could be here.” he mumbles, voice quiet. 
“me too. i…sammy and i actually talked to your mom about it and..” you start. 
“i know. sukuna told me.” 
yuujji pauses, running his fingers over the pink skin on your palm, before sighing.
“it’s nice but, he’d probably roll over in his grave if megumi came.” yuuji states. 
“he’d probably get out of his casket just to yell at you one more time.” you mutter. 
yuuji laughs, the sound making you smile. 
“and then he’d see you sitting in between me and sukuna and slut shame you one last time for good measure.” he adds. 
“and then probably have a second heart attack when he sees sammy sitting there with mai.” 
the two of you stare at each other blankly before bursting out into laughter, albeit a little bit too uncontrollably, as you reach to shut the door to stop everyone else from hearing. 
“oh my god. i fucking forgot about that. he’d probably have an aneurysm if he found out sammy was bi.” 
“he would fully go into septic shock. he’d probably something strangely homoerotic and spend twenty minutes trying to convince her that everyone was a little gay.” 
“holy shit! i totally forgot he said that. and then he’d somehow blame me for it. like i made her gay somehow by rubbing it off on her.” 
you snort. 
“and naturally, he’d start yelling at our moms too. saying that they let us all be a little too wild when we were kids and that’s why we’re all ungrateful..” you add. 
“i believe his preferred term of endearment was ungrateful little assholes. and don’t kid yourself, according to him, the root of all evil can –  and always will be – traced back to me. ” 
the two of you turn your heads to the doorway, to where sukuna’s standing. you jolt up at the sight of him, his eyes red and tired, as you look up at him, giving him a smile. 
“hi sukuna. how are –” 
sukuna sticks the back of his hand against your forehead, clearly bothered by how warm you’re still running, before dropping his hand. his fingertips trail down your skin, the length of your elbow to your fingers, before he presses the bottle into your hand. 
“antibiotic for five days. if you still feel bad, then an extra two days.” he states, holding the water out in front of you. 
it’s the same as the time yuuji punched you. he’s uncharacteristically inexpressive, but still attentive. 
“when did you have time to go?” 
“i had to get his clothes from the hospital. and his phone and the car keys, they were all in his pocket.” 
“thank you. do need anything from me?” 
“still have nyquill?” 
he avoids the conversation, like he always does, in the rare seconds you’re allowed to speak to him.. you pretend it doesn’t sting. 
“yes.” 
sukuna leans forward, tucking the stray hairs behind your ear, before turning to yuuji. 
“day after tomorrow, up at six both of you. the funeral starts at seven and we’ll be back here after for the condolences.” 
“got it.” yuuji responds and you nod. 
sukuna disappears as fast as he showed up. 
and while you felt like you were isolated in the feeling – that he was slipping away, on another planet from you when he was only two doors down – you and yuuji talk about it the night before the funeral. 
“does it bother you?” yuuji asks. 
you can’t sleep the night before and neither can he – the two of you cramped up in his tiny bed and staring at the tiny glow in the dark stars you pressed to the ceiling years prior. they’re peeling off, half of them already having fell into the crevices between the bed in the wall years ago. 
“your dad?” you murmur. 
“no. sukuna.” 
“what do you mean?” 
“does it bother you that he won’t let you help him?” yuuji asks. 
you sigh, mulling over the thought in your head. of course it bothers you. you felt like you were failing the most important test. 
“i’m not saying that in a shit talking type of way. i just meant…as an observation. as a friend.” yuuji adds. 
you smile. 
“i know. i guess it does. i just feel like we made really good progress and that…that i’d at least tumbled down most of his walls. but every time i see him, it kind of feels like they’re back up. maybe even worse than before.” 
“what do you mean?” 
“he was always a little reserved but it didn’t take much to get him to open up. he’d always give in when i asked. but he just kind of brushes me off now. i’m not mad about it, because i understand, but i wish i could just do more.” you respond. 
yuuji readjusts, leaning over on his side, to look at you. and you mimic his actions till the two of you are facing each other, cheeks pressed into the pillows as you try to make out the features of his face. 
“don’t take it personally.” yuuji responds. 
you sigh. 
“really. in my experience, he…he’s never been able to let go until things are fully settled.” 
“that’s what scares me. your dad isn’t going to stop being dead.” you whisper. 
yuuji nods. 
“he won’t leave you.” 
“i know that. i just need him to come back to me.” you respond. 
yuuji readjusts under the sheets. there’s a quiet beat before he talks again. 
“will you stand with us at the condolences tomorrow? i think he’d like it if you were nearby. and god knows i need someone to stand there with me.” 
“of course, i will.” 
--
almost every person you’ve ever known seems to cycle through their house the next day. the funeral was crowded and you luckily for you, you were stuck for the most part, with sammy on one side and yuuji on the other, so you were able to avoid it. 
but the house was different. in a swimming sea of black, you and yuuji have awkward sets of interactions every few minutes. your third grade teacher, the hostess who kicked the two of you out of the sushi restaurant once, and the weird guy who gets drunk every thursday at the district. 
this town was way too small.  
yuuji sees nobara at the door, giving you a go ahead to go find where sukuna was lingering, as you start making your way through the halls. and it takes a few minutes, but you find him in the kitchen, tucking the envelopes and letters into the drawer as he reaches for his tie and loosens the knot. 
“hi.” 
you watch as he immediately stiffens, sharply turning his head to the left, before releasing. 
“oh. hey. i thought you were someone else.” 
“nope! just little old me.” you respond. 
sukuna pauses, slowly closing the drawer, before turning to you and cupping the side of your face. you welcome the touch – your chest panging at how long it’s been since you’ve even seen him, let alone touched him – before pressing a kiss to his palm. 
“do you feel better?” he asks 
“yeah. thank you.” 
he gives you a halfhearted smile, before dropping his hands down your back and securing his hand around your waist. you lean into his touch, pressing your cheek to his shoulder, and taking in the scent of his cologne. 
“i have to go back out.” he mumbles. 
“i know.” you respond. 
he looks down at you, giving you a smile, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. you give him a smile, before he leans down and squints his eyes at you. 
“been far too long since i’ve kissed you, hasn’t it?” 
“what?” 
“you’re blushing. and i just kissed your forehead.” 
you laugh, lightly trying to shove him away. but he’s too fast, hands on your waist before he leans forward, fully smiling this time and pulling you closer. it’s the first one you’ve seen in days. it makes your heart ache. 
“it’s normal to blush when your boyfriend kisses you.” you defend. 
he shakes his head, playfully poking at the side of your cheek before dropping his hand. 
“you’re always greedy. so greedy that you got so used to it. i usually have to rile you up in five different ways before i see that pretty flush creep down your neck.” 
“you’re a pervert. read the room.” 
sukuna rolls his eyes. 
“i am reading the room. you and i are the only ones in it.” he deadpans. 
“every person we know is outside.” you whisper. 
“come on. one kiss and i’ll go back.” he whispers back. 
“sukuna.” 
“please.” 
you roll your eyes before placing both of your hands on his cheeks and leaning forward. and as many comments as you made about reading the room and trying to deny it, you’re way too excited to lean forward – nearly smacking your nose into his – as you lock your lips with his. 
but it’s nothing like you expected. 
because while he was joking a few minutes prior, the kiss is so soft, dripping with longing that it takes you by surprise. it reminded you of the quiet moments – when he’d trace the freckles on your cheek or press kisses to your knuckles before bed – so overwhelming, so intimate that you felt like he had creeped up inside of you. 
when you flicker your eyes open, his eyes are filled with tears. 
“i’m sorry for avoiding you.” he whispers. 
“that’s okay, you…” 
“i knew this would happen if i was around you for too long.” he responds. 
you pause, taken aback by his words. 
“what?” 
“i wouldn’t be able to keep it together.” he responds, voice cracking as the tears start spilling down his cheeks.
you frown, reaching forward to wipe the wetness away.
“you don’t have to keep it together.” you whisper. 
“we both know i do.” he responds, his gaze wavering to the floor. 
you feel your heart drop, at the mere premise, before pressing yourself closer to him, feeling him sag nearly his entire weight onto you. he presses a kiss on your shoulder that makes you shiver. 
“can we please talk when we go home? just a few more days before…” 
“yeah. just you and me, okay?” 
he nods, lifting your hands against his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles.
"don't be hurt if I avoid you."
"you could never hurt me. i know whatever you do, there's a reason for it."
sukuna groans, before leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to your cheek.
"you're perfect, you know that?"
you give him a teasing grin, before shrugging.
"i can't help it." you joke.
he smiles, before leaning forward to press another kiss to your lips. 
“make me a promise.” he whispers, a slight strain in his voice. 
“okay.” 
he swallows hard.
“you can’t die.” 
you lean back, pressing your hand into the softness of his hair, before looking at his brown eyes, so full and expectant as they wait for an answer. 
“of course not.” 
“you’d take me right with you if you did. you can’t.” he begs. 
you give him a smile. 
“i won’t. i promise, ryomen.” you respond, reaching forward to cross on his heart.
he gives you a shaky sigh, before nodding and pressing one last kiss to your cheek before exiting back out. 
and you thank your lucky stars. he came back. 
--
you smack nobara in the back of the head when you make your way back to her and yuuji. because not only are yuuji and nobara nursing two glasses of red wine, but they’re also emptying her trusty hot pink flash into the glass when people aren’t looking. 
“are you insane?” you whisper. 
“do you want a sip?” yuuji asks. 
you immediately take the glass from his hand, earning you laughs from the two of them, as the three of you lean against the wall, watching everyone mill around the room. as irritating as the guy was, mr. itadori was really only all types of heinous and horrible with those closest to them. 
to the community, it was a grave loss. and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room – except from the three people it was probably expected from the most. 
you could hear the whispers. they were so strong. you fight the urge to laugh in their faces. it was the understatement of the century. 
sammy joins you on the wall after an hour of mingling, an awkward jostle between her and nobara, before the two of them were sharing their glasses and muttering under their breaths about how insane maki and mai were. 
“funerals are weird.” yuuji mumbles, leaning his head against yours.
“how so?” 
“these two idiots were fighting at your birthday like a week ago. and no one’s even batting an eye that mr. johnson is sitting with his mistress while his wife gets drunk in the corner.” 
“that’s not his mistress. she was blonde.” 
“bold of you to assume there was only one.” 
you shiver in disgust, earning you a laugh from yuuji, as you finish off the last of his glass. except that’s right when sukuna walks up to you, eyes panicked as he takes the glass from your hand and sets it on the table. 
“hey baby.” he whispers. 
“hi sukuna. want some of our conc –” 
“whatever happens, i’m right here, okay?” he says, the tone in his voice urgent. 
you laugh, looking over to give yuuji a weird look, only to find that he’s staring past sukuna’s shoulder, swallowing hard. 
“huh? i don’t follow.” 
sukuna pinches his eyes shut, almost like he’s pained, before moving to your side, when you finally see it. he squeezes your hand so hard you think he might have broken it. 
you suppose it’s ironic. 
yuuji and sukuna’s shitty dad is dead. and your deadbeat one is standing four feet away from you, with two little girls at his side.
--
next part linked here
an: yolo.
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imineffible · 2 days
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Blitzo had probably stayed outside of Stolas' palace for about a couple hours. He screamed, begging to be let back in, and tried every window and door, but they were all locked.
He didn't mean it. He never thought lowly of Stolas - it's Stolas for fuck's sake! He's a Goetia, he's powerful, he's gorgeous, he's charming - Blitzo just never thought that Stolas could ever actually care about him like that, nobody ever has.
Once it was clear Stolas wasn't going to let him back inside, Blitzo yelled, "You know what? I don't even need you!"
He stormed off with no destination in mind. Eventually, he found himself at a bar.
He spent the rest of the night numbing himself with alcohol, sex, and he might've been slipped some drugs too.
Only when morning came did he think about going back to the I.M.P. office. Blitzo managed to stumble his way back unharmed.
Everyone else wouldn't even know anything was wrong. Loona was used to him not coming home on full moons and all of them were used to him coming in late the next day.
Blitzo opened the door and trudged in.
"Good morning, sir," Moxxie said with too much enthusiasm. "How did it go? Do we still have the grimmoire?"
Blitzo gritted his teeth. He ripped the Asmodian crystal off his glove and slammed it on the table. "We don't need the stupid book anymore."
"Is that-"
"Yeah. Sto-" Blitzo's voice cracked. "He gave it to me."
Moxxie and Millie exchanged confused looks.
"Why did he do that?" Millie asked.
Blitzo ignored her question and went into his office, letting the door slam behind him. He sat with his head on his desk and tried not to think about anything.
The first one to try finding out what happened was Moxxie, slowly opening the door as if Blitzo was some wild animal that would run if spooked.
"Sir?" he said softly after closing the door. "What happened last night?"
Moxxie looked surprised to see the tears in Blitzo's eyes when he lifted his head.
"Nothing," Blitzo said. "Go choose a client for us today or something."
"Blitzo... If you're this upset, I don't think that will help."
Blitzo groaned. "I don't care. If you won't pick a client, then go find something else to do that isn't in THIS FUCKING ROOM!"
Moxxie had never been one for confrontation, so it was no surprise that he left after that. Not long after, Millie was the next one to come in.
"Heya, boss," she tried to be casual. "How ya doin'?"
"I'm fine," Blitzo growled. "But if we're not killing anybody, then get out."
"Blitzo..."
"GO!"
She appeared annoyingly sympathetic and said, "I just think you'd feel better if you talked about it instead of sittin' around and mopin'."
Blitzo slammed both fists on the desk. "What do you want me to say, huh? You think I'm just gonna pour my soul out to you?"
Millie gave him a look of pity - which didn't make him feel any better - and left. He grumbled and hid his face in his hands.
It wasn't until a few hours after Millie tried that Loona finally gave it shot.
"Hey so... You've seemed a little... off today," Loona stated the obvious. "I didn't really believe it, but was I right when I said he was getting bored of you?"
Blitzo glanced up at his daughter. She looked uncomfortable and worried at the same time. He guessed he owed it to her as her father to tell her a little bit.
"No. No, it was... the opposite, basically, and I fucked it up, like I do with everything," he explained.
"Well, not everything. You didn't fuck up with me, right? ...Dad?" she added after a moment.
"Oh, Loony," he said, ready to start crying again. She let him give her a big hug.
After awkwardly patting him on the back a few times, Loona slowly extracted herself from the hug.
"Umm. So..." Loona said. "Are you feeling any better?"
Blitzo nodded and Loona smiled at him before leaving.
It was nice to know that he had people who cared about him, who will stay even when he pushes them away.
Maybe even Stolas wasn't fully out of his life yet. Maybe he could try talking to him again later.
It was unlikely, but maybe, just maybe, it could happen.
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inkformyblood · 2 days
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the red on my face is matching you (GhostSoap)
Canon Era, Soulmate AU. Part 1/4
The meeting room booked for this debriefing is a fucking disgrace. They could have one of the newly refurbished digs closer to the centre of the base, the scent of fresh paint still bleeding off the walls and all the furniture still slightly uncomfortable in that never-been-used way, but no. Ghost couldn’t be that fortunate. 
Two months stuck in a bleeding ditch with rainwater up his arse, no cover so he was being slowly roasted alive, somehow freezing and boiling all at the same time, and they get one of the off-shoot debriefing rooms miles away from everywhere and not even a crappy coffee machine to get some dishwater that labelled itself as tea. 
Ghost bites the flat of his tongue, holds the pressure steady until the ache is all he can think about, the pain dull to dead nerves, and let's go. In the end, he hadn’t really been needed, just left on the line to dry while the forward team swept through the compound like a wildfire. All flash, no bang. He’d watched them through his scope, just distant moving shadows that were somehow people all the same, seen a couple fall and not even been able to take out their killers thanks to the red tape garrotting him. 
Ghost had his orders straight from Price, smelling faintly of cigar smoke and delivered in the rattle of the plane. Price’s knuckles were white on the tangle of the harness in his grasp, swaying the motion of the plane as he leant down to speak to Ghost. His words had clattered like gunfire and Ghost felt them burrow into his skin, rotting him from the inside out. It wasn’t Price’s doing, he had his own marionette strings knotted around his limbs, pulled taut in that moment, and Ghost understands that well enough.
He’s a dead man walking so he needed to stay out of the mission. Observation, nothing more. Note down the time and position that each man dies, the scope boring a hole through his skull, the trigger a tripwire against his finger, and do nothing.
Fucking bastards.
Ghost tips himself back in the chair before he settles all four legs on the floor once more. It creaks beneath his weight, some flimsy dumpster find, the wood pitted with numerous scuffs, the scrawl of someone’s initials over the back. The singular fan, a goddamn divine miracle at this rate, sits off to his right. It wheezes through the cloud of dust coating the blades, orbiting from one side to the other as if that would do anything. 
He can feel his eye black running down his face, sweat stinging at his eyes as it goes, and it makes his skin crawl, the hollows of his gum aching. His fingers curl, the tapered edge of his fingers catching on every uneven scuff on the table, every dent from a slammed fist. Maybe a couple were from a quick fuck, too pent up to wait until they were behind doors that locked, still stupidly besotted enough that getting caught added a thrill of excitement, and Ghost’s fingers catches on those scratches like all the others, indistinguishable, unimportant. 
Copper coats his tongue, a fresh tear in his lip that he’s been chewing without realising. The nerves are too fried to transmit much about pressure or temperature and he relies on habit rather than sensation most of the time. Sometimes it works. Blood joins the sweat accumulating on the inside of his mask, the fabric beginning to smell more like an open body pit than the nondescript fabric paint he’d used at the start. He wants to take it off. He wants to sew it to his skin and then, maybe, maybe—
“Here we are.”
Price. Self-assured swagger to his step that came along with the bars they’d added to his shoulders when he was promoted way back when. It’s a distinct enough walk that Ghost relaxes back into his seat, letting his legs sprawl out as best as the confines of the chair will allow him. He’s enough of an open book to the other man — open the same way an academic text in a dead fucking language so mostly targeted guesswork — and Price will read his annoyance like a signal tower. Bastard. 
Ghost inclines his head in greeting to Price, his attention snapping to the puppy trailing Price in. Fresh meat. Fuck, had he ever been that young, that bright-eyed? He must have been the same age as the other man at one point, hell, given how young Ghost was when he joined they might be the same age now, but he never felt that young. Adult responsibilities piled onto childish shoulders that grew quickly enough to hold them. 
The lad’s got a mohawk for fucks sake.
It’s intentional, a peacock shaking its iridescent tail for attention, because the realisation that the other man is also wearing a mask is slow coming. There’s introductions — “John MacTavish, our new recruit.” “Soap, please, sir.” — and Price is several sentences into an explanation before Ghost can fully take the other man in. 
The hissing undulation of the fan ruffles Soap’s hair and he pushes a section back from his face without looking away from Price. He’s keen, hungrily so, more likely to slit his own throat for guts and glory and Ghost is ready to dismiss him in the same breath. Just another dog, leashed like Ghost is, but this one hasn’t learnt the incoming hand is more than often a blow instead of a pat. He must sense Ghost watching him — a prickle across the base of his name, someone walking over his grave — as he glances over, his eyes crinkling as he grins and Ghost realises. 
Soap MacTavish is wearing a mask too.
It isn’t the same as Ghost’s, medical instead of tactical, camo print splashed over the front until it’s dismissed as just another part of the uniform. But it’s pulled higher than Ghost is used to seeing people wear, drawn to rest just beneath his eyes and held close to his jaw, a custom job. It’s not uncommon for other soldiers to wear masks, some people are picky about their privacy although not to the same extent that Ghost is, but Soap is another mystery all together. 
The meeting room door opens once more and Gaz slides into his seat, blinking at the newcomer before he covers it with a grin. Must already know Soap because there’s only a whispered exchange before Gaz’s attention glides onto Price like it’s been there all along. Price takes it all in without a second glance, sliding a file over to Gaz without tripping over his words as he brings up the next image. Standard compound, just remote enough to fuck with the delivery drivers, several foot of trees cleared from the hastily constructed walls. Dropped into the centre, a gigantic fuck-you to any thoughts Ghost had of some R&R between missions, is a tower, leaning sideways already, a kid getting distracted and swiping at the blocks as they move away.
He can see his grave when it’s laid out in front of him.
Turning his attention back to Soap, it isn’t a surprise that the other man is staring. Not just staring, devouring, consuming, drinking Ghost down like he's air and water both, mana from heaven and the holy fucking sacrament. There’s a silver cross on Soap’s chest, the chain shining while the token is tarnished, and his hand rises to it, brushing over the metal before it drops once more. 
Ghost hasn’t seen the inside of a church that hadn’t doubled as a battleground for years. Might prove a problem if Soap turns out to be the judgemental type.
But… the mask.
Why?
Ghost grinds his teeth together, the sound echoing in the confines of his skull, and Gaz flinches, a scowl already traced over his mouth. Price barely pauses in his speech, his gaze flickering over to Ghost in a silent chastisement that always twists something in the base of his throat, some scrap of a heart that’s keeping him upright and moving. Soap watches all of this, the fabric of his mask indented over his lip as he chews on it. There’s a damp patch when he releases it, nearly hidden behind the pattern of the camo. Ghost tugs on the edge of his gloves, pulls up his sleeve, folds the scrap of skin in danger of showing away once more. 
It’s a choice, a deliberately maintained choice, something cared for and cultivated. Soap must have a stake in the game, something heavier than just vanity, or is it? Ghost fights the urge to grind his teeth together once more, his gums aching, a spark of restlessness burning through his joints like kindling tossed in the undergrowth. Too long spent huddled in one position and not enough time between missions and then this mystery is tipped into his lap, near-enough fucking giftwrapped to torture him about.
Roba should have tried something like this. Might’ve worked out for him better.
Soap’s still watching him. He’s being careful about it now, thanks to Price’s momentarily diverted attention, sneaking glances out of the corner of his eye between blinks. Price presses a button and the lights dim, a sprawl of surveillance footage rolling across the screen. Ghost watches it without taking it in, green-toned sepia rolling across the whites of his eyes and falling back off again. His attention —  carved up for decoration like scrimshaw, thoughts gnarled together even as the upcoming battle plan etches itself on the inside of his skull — is diverted, compromised. He tips his chair back carefully and Soap straightens at the noise of protest it makes, his brow furrowing before he relaxes deliberately. Already a bleeding heart, Ghost guesses, trying to make sure he doesn’t die somewhere nonsensical before he can die and decay somewhere it would be useful, a puppy whining from its basket. Sit. Stay. Shoot. 
Ghost tips his head to one side, pressure along the side of his neck, a matching ache in his thighs as he braces himself against the floor. There’s still mud on his boots and he scrapes one against the table leg, jolting it slightly. Gaz flips him off behind Soap’s back like he’s a schoolboy hiding from the teacher and Soap twitches, his mouth caught halfway between a grin and a gasp, terror woven so neatly into joy. He catches Ghost’s gaze once more, locked onto him like there’s an entire missile tracking system whirring behind his eyes, and, for all Ghost knows about the government programs twitching curtains behind the scenes, there damn well might be. 
Soap looks ordinary enough, cut mostly from the same cloth as any other soldier.
His arms are mostly bare, sleeves pushed up to his elbows due to the heat. There’s the faint lines of scars visible when he shifts, the light catching off of the silver marks and the notched counterparts, a tattoo on his right forearm of a familiar logo. Cocky fuck. If they both survive this mission, and Soap can manage to find his feet on solid ground, he might grow to like this new stray Price has brought in off the street. The tattoo is too faded to be new, the ink bedded into Soap’s skin aspirational or in memoriam. Could be chasing after his own ghosts and Simon is just another notch on his belt of actions he’ll regret. The mask hides the majority of his features, suggestions of a crooked nose beneath the fabric, a grin bright enough to be noticeable despite it all.
“Any questions?”
Ghost shakes his head at Price, rocking his chair back onto four legs. He’ll be glad to be out of here in any capacity, even if it is to another squeeze into a metal box before he can be thrown into battle once more. Price might sit next to him for the flight, the cigar smoke clinging to the weathered lines of his palms, a curved line of heat at his side to combat the chill of so many booted feet marching over his grave.
Soap could sit next to him.
Ghost dismisses the thought in an instant, anger burning in the base of his throat, bitter like he should be. He’s dead, buried in a grave he was too stubborn to stay in; life isn’t for men like him.
“Good.” Price nods once, pride clear in his wide stance, the easy grin he wears. “It’s going to be a small team this time, lads, so in and out, no guts, no glory. Understand?”
Another nod from Ghost bumping up against the regulation-size “Yessir,” from Gaz, both torn apart at the heels by the bright “sir, yes, sir” from their newest addition. Soap’s eyes crinkle at the corners when he grins, every piece of his face that is visible utilised to shout his emotions to the world, a fanfare covered by a tea towel. Fuck, Ghost needs a drink. Preferably several, each strong, all served alone in the quiet nest of his room, but he’ll take whatever cheap swill he can coax from a coffee machine before he has to shrug all of his gear back on. It’s been days since he’s taken off his eye black and caught a glimpse of his own reflection, years since he’d wanted to. 
Gaz dawdles and Ghost is going to gut him for it. Give him a new set of scars over his rib cage to show off to his flock of twittering admirers, each one burning with jealousy and trying to catch alight on the reflected glory of Gaz’s attention. 
It gives Soap time to break away as Ghost makes his escape, to slip out of the door moments after he does.
“Hey, LT.”
Ghost stops. Soap doesn’t.
“Looks like we’re going to be working together on this one. Hope it’s a good one, yeah.”
Standing, they’re nearly of a height, Ghost claiming a few inches over Soap. He glares down at the other man, his jaw clenched tight enough he thinks it might shatter, spilling blood and bile down onto the bleach-stained floor. “What are you doing, Sergeant?” 
The fuck off and leave me alone is unspoken, landing like a tactical nuke in the space between them, and Soap ignores it utterly. He’s still grinning, sharper now, somehow, the bright blue of his eyes drawn darker beneath the fluorescence. “Getting to know my teammates, sir. I’ve been hoping to get assigned this unit for a long time now.”
“Why?” Like a gunshot, better to be over sooner rather than later, a quick impact between the eyes than a slow puncture in the belly. Ghost folds his arms over his chest, tipping his head to one side. The cut on his lip had scabbed over, now torn open anew.
Soap meets his glare head-on, the same stubborn streak painted over every aspect of his being that must have set him on this course. “Got my reasons, sir. Not about to kiss and tell on the first date, so to speak.”
Cocky fuck. 
If he lives, Ghost might grow to like him.
“Go get your kit. Dismissed.”
Ghost turns and walks away. He doesn’t look back, even when he hears the conspicuous absence of Soap’s footsteps, the heavy starving weight of his stare imprinted on the back of Ghost’s head. One more mission, then he can rest. Another mission before he can sleep. 
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ltash · 17 hours
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Torn
I couldn't protect myself Simon
In the silence of the night, I am torn apart by memories of you. Each moment etched in my heart like a jagged tear."
I closed my eyes as I fell unconscious and drifted back into the memory lane. I was sitting in my room on the base when I heard a knock, and Simon came in. I was sitting on the bed, and he kneeled in front of me. I looked at him, taking in his perfectly sculpted body hidden under his jacket and cargo pants. His hand rested on my belly.
"I can't wait Nora," he said softly.
"Neither can I," I replied, feeling a surge of warmth in my heart.
His chin rested on my shoulder as he hugged me. His chest slowly moved with every breath he took.
I wanted to take this all in. To be like this forever, to never let him go again. He rolled his balaclava up to his forehead and cupped my face in his hands.
"I can't tell you in words how much I love you. I missed you so much," he said, his eyes sparkling with emotion.
The sad, tired and empty eyes I longed to see sparkle with life again.
"I love you more," I whispered, my heart swelling with love for him.
Our lips touched in a gentle kiss, and I deepened it, playing with his hair. "I love you so much," I whispered against his lips as tears cascaded down my cheeks, feeling his smile.
"You are the reason I am living this life all over again," he said, his voice filled with love and sincerity.
•••••••••••
"El Sin Nombre," Laswell's voice echoed in the briefing room.
"Fucking hell! I'll kill every one of those bastards if they even touch her!" Ghost's voice thundered, his fists clenched in anger.
Captain Price stepped forward, his voice steady. "We'll find her. She'll be okay. Nothing will happen to her."
But Ghost was visibly distraught, slamming his hands on the table. "All that for nothing, all that just to lose her like this," he muttered, frustration evident in his tone.
Captain Price turned to Ghost, his expression grave. "Tell me, Simon. Is there something going on between you and her? I need to hear it from you."
Ghost met his gaze, his voice trembling with emotion. "She's pregnant. I don't know how to tell you this, but I love her, and she loves me too. We can't live without each other now. There's no way back, Price."
Captain Price's features softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. "I understand, Simon. It's okay. I'm with you. You two deserve each other, and I guess she needs you more than anyone else right now."
Ghost nodded, a sense of resolve flickering in his eyes. "We're going to get her back. No matter what it takes."
Price placed a reassuring hand on Ghost's shoulder. "And we'll be right there with you. Let's get to work."
•••••••••
It all faded in a second as I opened my eyes slowly. Searing pain shot through my leg, jolting me back to reality. It was all a dream, a dream left behind, and I found myself in a room. It was dimly lit and spacious, the shadows playing tricks on my disoriented mind.
I was lying on a bed, the pain in my left leg relentless. My vision slowly adjusted, and I glanced down at my leg. A bandage was wrapped tightly around my thigh, but my jeans were soaked in blood.
Panic began to set in as I tried to piece together what had happened. The last thing I remembered was... the mission. The firefight. Simon's voice yelling my name. Everything else was a blur.
I reached for my leg, but the pain intensified, and I let out a small cry. I needed to find out where I was, what had happened, and why I was alone. The room's silence was deafening, broken only by the distant hum of machinery.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to push myself up on the bed, but the effort sent another wave of pain crashing through me. I collapsed back onto the pillow, tears of frustration and fear stinging my eyes.
"Help," I croaked, my voice weak and shaky. "Is anyone there?"
The door creaked open, and I strained to see through the dim light. My heart skipped a beat as the figure stepped into the room, but it wasn't Simon. Instead, it was a man dressed in dark, rough clothing, his face partially obscured by a bandana. Behind him, two more figures emerged, their expressions hard and unyielding.
My blood ran cold as the realization hit me: these were members of the Spanish cartel.
One of the men stepped closer, his eyes scanning me with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. He spoke in rapid Spanish, and though I couldn't catch every word, I understood enough to know that they were discussing what to do with me.
"¿Qué hacemos con ella?" one of them asked, his voice gruff.
"Esperamos órdenes," the leader replied, his tone calm but menacing.
I tried to push myself up again, but the pain in my leg was too intense. The leader noticed my struggle and approached the bed, crouching down so that his face was level with mine. He spoke in broken English, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
"You are awake. Good. We have questions for you, and you will answer them."
I glared at him, my fear giving way to a spark of defiance. "What do you want from me?"
The cartel demanded a heavy ransom for my release. They told me they worked for El Sin Nombre, their ruthless boss. My heart sank as I heard the name, knowing the notorious reputation that preceded him. El Sin Nombre was feared across the region, a shadowy figure whose name struck terror into even the bravest hearts.
The leader of the group, a tall man with a scar running down his cheek, stepped closer to my bed. "Your father," he said in accented English, "he killed El Sin Nombre's brother during his service. Now, we demand ten million dollars for your release."
My mind raced.
"Ten million dollars?" I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady. "Where do you expect to get that kind of money?"
The scarred man smiled coldly. "Your father would have found a way. If he loved you, he would pay. If not... well, let's just say El Sin Nombre is not a patient man."
I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "My father is dead," I said, my voice firm. "He can't pay you anything."
The man's eyes narrowed. "Then who will pay your ransom?"
"I will," I replied. "But I need time to arrange the money. Ten million dollars isn't something I can just pull out of my pocket."
The leader leaned closer, his eyes boring into mine. "How long?"
"Give me a week," I said, my mind racing with plans. "I need to contact my financial team and liquidate some assets. I can get you the money, but it takes time."
He studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly. "You have four days. If we don't have the money by then, you will suffer the consequences."
I nodded, trying to keep my fear in check. As the cartel members left the room, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, willing myself to stay calm and focused.
••••••••••••
It was almost night, and they hadn't given me anything to eat. I had only drunk water from the pitcher and glass placed on the side table. The hunger gnawed at my stomach, making me feel nauseous. The urge to vomit hit me suddenly, and I bolted towards the bathroom, thankful that the bedroom had one.
I emptied my stomach, retching until there was nothing left. Exhausted and feeling even more lethargic, I stumbled back to the bed. It felt like I would die soon if I didn't get food and rest.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and four cartel members staggered in, reeking of alcohol. Fear gripped me as they advanced towards me.
"One of them muttered something in Spanish, 'hermosa rostra,' as he leered at me.
"Don't you dare come near me," I warned, my voice trembling with fear and anger.
But my warning fell on deaf ears. One of them lunged forward, grabbing my legs and pulling me down the bed, sending me crashing onto the floor. Panic surged through me as I struggled to break free from their grasp.
I was already weak, unable to defend myself against the onslaught of the cartel members. They were uttering gibberish in Spanish, words that I couldn't even comprehend in my terrified state. They pushed me towards each other like I was a mere plaything, their hands tearing at my clothes as if I were nothing more than a piece of meat.
I screamed as I tried to shield myself, desperation flooding my senses. In a frantic attempt to defend myself, I lunged towards the bedside table and grabbed the glass, my hands shaking with fear and adrenaline. Without hesitation, I smashed the glass against the head of the nearest cartel member with all the force I could muster. He crumpled to the floor, blood gushing from the wound.
But there was no time to celebrate my small victory. Another cartel member lunged towards me, and I fought back with all my strength, scratching and clawing at his face with my nails. But my efforts were in vain as he grabbed me by my hair, yanking me to the floor with brutal force.
Pain erupted throughout my body as he kicked me in the stomach, the force of the blow stealing the breath from my lungs. I screamed in agony, the sound echoing through the room and down the hallway, but my cries fell on deaf ears as they continued to rain down blows upon me.
They beat me mercilessly, punching and kicking me until I could no longer fight back. Until I lay there, bloodied and broken, my body wracked with pain and exhaustion. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.
Through my blurred vision, I saw a woman standing in the doorway, yelling at the cartel members in Spanish. But it was too late. They left me there, half-dead, the agony of their assault still rippling through my battered body.
Agonizing pain shot through my belly all the way down towards my pelvis. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks as I lay there, blood soaking my jeans as I was bleeding down there, my body trembling with shock and pain.
At that moment, amidst the agony and despair, only one name echoed in my mind: Simon! His name escaped my lips like a silent prayer, a beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded me.
The door creaked open, and the woman stepped inside, accompanied by a tall, imposing figure—a man I recognized as Diego, the same man who had dragged me towards the helicopter.
The woman approached me, her voice low and urgent as she spoke to Diego in rapid Spanish. I strained to catch their words, my senses dulled by pain and exhaustion.
"She is still alive," I heard her say, disbelief coloring her tone. "I thought they killed her."
Diego's response was grim and matter-of-fact. "We need her alive. She is the golden egg."
I lay on the floor, my back pressed against the cold surface, my body writhing with pain. Blood flowed from my nose, a stark reminder of the brutality I had endured.
"He will kill you," I managed to whisper, my voice barely audible amidst the chaos.
The woman's brow furrowed in confusion. "Who?" she asked.
I summoned the strength to pull a weak grin. "The man with the skull mask," i whispered.
"What's his name?" she pressed, her voice urgent.
"Ghost," I whispered, before succumbing to the darkness.
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lesbienneanarchiste · 4 months
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Not to get nostalgic about physical media on main again but gd truly unparalleled to go to Blockbuster in my teens and early twenties and feel like there were so many things for me to explore and discover. We had two in our town, a big one and a small one. The small one was limited but had more Displays of the "Nikki's Favorites of the 90s" type. When it died, they put a wall down the center of its corpse and turned it into a driving school and a vape shop. The big one was one of those places you could just wander around for a while and look at all these movies you've never heard of. A lot of my favorite movies as a kid/teen were things I picked off the shelf randomly bc I liked the look of the spine. My spine was not so happy from me being bent sideways at the waist to read the titles but sacrifices must be made. That Blockbuster got turned into a surf and turf restaurant that was too expensive for my family (and tbh most of the families in that town) to eat at. You used to be able to walk into a big warm yellow room and see your friends, enemies, and countrymen renting the most unpredictable shit possible, for the low price of a couple bucks a DVD. They even had video games after a while so you could play stuff kids at school were talking about even if you couldn't afford to buy it brand new. You could find out about new movies coming out bc the trailers would show on the mounted tvs in the days before youtube. The big Blockbuster even had music CDs you could rent for a hot minute when I was in high school. If you liked a movie enough you could buy it for half cover price bc it was used. Sometimes much less than half cover price if it was something that didn't get rented very often or they had a ton of copies they needed to shift.
Like yeah, Blockbuster fucked over smaller independent video rental stores and that sucks but I still mourn it's demise. The way I can hate how Borders kicked all the indie book shops out of the malls and still be pissed the fuck off that they shut down and all became forever 21s.
Don't even get me started on CD shops and FYE 😭😭😭😭
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leejungchans · 1 year
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hoodielord · 3 months
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Batman vs Jazz: Trolley problem.
Her bruised hands rested on the table in front of her. The room was grey and dismal. The cold stare of Batman trying to burn a hole in her or drill the confession out of her. She swallowed the lump in her throat because she knew that she had to do it. It was them or her baby brother. She had to. She turned her gaze back to Batman.
“You know the trolley problem, don’t you Batman?”
He didn’t answer. But she continued.
“On a railroad, there are two paths one person is tied to one of them. Several other people on the other.” She gestures to the left and right. Her cuffs clattered on the metal table.
“There is a trolley barreling toward the two paths. And you're in front of the level that could switch the tract. Do you let it run over that one person or several people?”
Batman’s cold stare remains.
Jazz continues. “You’ve been known to have a “no-kill” rationale for your work. So what would you do? Which track would you take?” 
Still, he remains silent.
“Let’s switch up the scenario. Say that your family was on one track and the person you hurt your family was on the other. What would you do?” 
“Ms. Fenton..”
“Don’t!” She slammed her fists into the table. “Don’t call me that.”
Tears were filling her eyes.
Silent returned to the interrogation room.
“They were going to kill him….I had to save him. He’s my little brother….They were my parents but they …they did this to him.”
“Ms….Jasmine…”
Jazz interrupts him “What would you have done?!” she screams as tears run down her face as she stares at Batman.
“I saved him but I had to… I had to..” her voice softens as she trails off her gaze returning to the metal table.
When she looks up again, it’s to an empty room, her only company is her reflection on the one-way window.
===
“That was from B’s latest interrogation.”
“Thanks, Babs.”
“ No problem, Jason.”
In Crime Alley, Red Hood rubs the scar along his neck where a batarang had nearly killed him.
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icameheretoreadstuff · 7 months
Text
not so loud
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Pairing: Inexperienced!Choso x F!Reader Warnings: 18+! MDNI!, NSFW, first time Oral (M recieving), Smut without plot. deepthroat, almost busted, smut, unprotected sex. Summary: Youre currently down on your knees inside his bedroom with people right outside partying, the music is loud but He's trying his best to not make any sounds. A/N: masterpost & links are pinned on my tumblr.
"mmf, y/n" Choso's hips were slowly thrusting up into your mouth, you gripped his hips and leaned back to breathe, "relax for me, do not move your hips" you whispered, precum and drool was connecting you to his cock. "this is, mmgh" he looked down on your tounge while whimpering, as you swallowed and licked up his precum "more please" he huffed as you inhaled his cock, you felt you were starving. Sucking, slurping and inhaling his cock deep inside your mouth felt so unbalivable good. His muscles tensed up as he tried to not shove his cock down your thoat again. "y/n" his hand was on his mouth as he tried to not moan out loud. He had never experienced this sensation and he was struggling badly to keep quiet. You smirked as you looked up at him while licking around his tip. "fuck" he whimpered as he closed his eyes shut and moaned loudly behind his hand as you inhaled his dick.
A tear fell down your chin as you could feel his balls on your chin, His thick dick was down your throat and you couldn't stop moaning, sending vibrations to his cock. He let out deep moans as you breathed through your nose. He gripped your hair into a fist as he continued to moan loudly, he couldn't hold back any more. You had small breaks of breathing properly before inhaling his cock, all the way in until his cock was shoved down your thoat and then slowly out and reapeat. His moans became your addiction, you wanted him to be more loud. "y/n" he moaned "this feels so good" he whimpered as he looked down on you, with his hand still over his mouth.
"Choso!" yuji yelled outside and tried to come inside the room. He held the door tight and locked it in panic, while his dick was still deep inside your mouth. You popped his cock out of your mouth to take the oppertunity to fully breathe. You looked at his beautiful cock and couldn't help yourself. You continued to suck him off as he tried to form a sentence. "Occu- mfh" he whimpered "occupied!" he managed to say as he muffled his mouth. You slowly licked his length as you could hear yuji talking in the background. "Come on out and party with us!" Yuji knocked on the door, Choso looked down on you with his cock inside your mouth, you hummed as you inhaled his length deep inside your mouth again. "y/n-" he moaned "What?" Yuji yelled "the music is too loud, I can't hear you" Yuji knocked on the door, Choso's mind was foggy and the only thing he could focus on was how good your mouth felt like. Choso whimpered as you grabbed his balls and licked his length from his balls and all the way to the tip. "Occupied!" Choso whimpered, feeling close. "Oh, sorry" Yuji said and finally walked off.
You began to pick up the pace as his breath began to feel uneven and deep from his chest. He whimpered as his hips began to automatically thust inside your mouth. You popped his wet dick out of your mouth and quickly took off your pants, "please" he huffed as his dick was throbbing and slammed against his ripped abs. You grabbed his dick and guided him behind you, you sat down onto the table "fuck me, choso" you smirked as you spreaded your legs and held them up in the air, your hands were behind you holding you up for support.
He walked over at you and placed his tip at your entrance and whimpered "grab my legs, place them onto your shoulders and hold me tight" you moaned and he obeyed. He grabbed your legs and lifted then up and placed them on his shoulders as his muscled arms embraced behind your back, "just like that" you moaned as you felt his cock deep inside you while pressing your hips closer to him.
"kiss me choso" you whispered and he leaned closer and crashed his lips against yours. You hummed as he leaned his forehead on yours, you could feel his dick driving you insane, filling you up. He looked deep into your eyes for guidence, "snap your hips" you barely managed to say as he obeyed instantly and whimpered. His brain went foggy as he thrusted into you, his moans rang into your ears. He looked at you while whimpering, closing his eyes shut and let out moans as he thrusted harder into you.
He grabbed you and held you tighter against him, you held your hand over his mouth as his moans filled the room. He couldn't hold back anymore "You feel so good" you praised him, he moaned "can't stop" he whimpered as he snapped his hips and clapped hard into you. you moved your hand behind you to hold yourself up and pressing your hips more into him.
His moans weren't silent anymore and you were to fucked out to care, it only turned you more on. "just like that, babe" you moaned "youre so good to me" you huffed feeling close, "i'm gonna cum" you moaned as you could feel his dick hitting all the right spots fast. "choso" you moaned as you climaxed hard, he whimpered feeling overwhelmed by your pretty moans and first time hearing such amazing sounds coming from your sweet lips, he felt he could taste your breath as you moaned into his lips. Climaxing on his dick sent him over the edge as he snapped his hips and climaxed deep inside you.
He moved his hips away as his dick slipped out of you, you moved your legs down and pulled him into a kiss. "Amazing" he whispered "I've never done this before" you smirked and kissed his neck "don't worry, I have so much more to teach you" you whispered into his neck that sent shivers down his spine, causing him to let out a whimper. "y/n" he whined "I want you so bad" he whispered and cupped your face and kissed you deeply.
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chaepink · 8 months
Text
DAY 19: SUCH A TEASE | COCKWARMING
teasing kageyama is always fun, especially if it has something to do with him cockwarming you.
⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ PAIRING ⸻ kageyama tobio x reader
⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ WARNINGS ⸻ dom!gn!reader, dacryphilia, begging, cockwarming (character receiving), edging, riding, praise, pegging, strap can be read as a dick, reader can lift him up
⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ WORDS ⸻ 1.8k words
KINKTOBER EVENT
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You love teasing kageyama. Whether it's palming him under the table at a restaurant, making tears brim his eyes when you continue to overstimulate him, or being blunt with your words about how you want to just bend him over the nearest desk and fuck him till he can't think anymore. All three would result in kageyama flushing red and letting out a needy whine, stuttering out a quiet response.
And today is no different. With your focus solely on the work in front of you, you almost forget about him on your lap. That's until kageyama lets out a whimper, wrapping his arms around you tighter.
"Are you alright, kageyama?" He whines at you. Here he is, fully naked and on your lap with your strap stuffing him full. The tip is just barely touching his prostate and it brushes against it whenever he moves just a little, each time making him leak out pre cum from his hard red dick. It lays against your stomach and he tries his best not to move, wanting to be good for you. He's been cockwarming you for a while now and he's lost track of how many times you've edged him.
A mere hour or so earlier you were working on stuff you needed to finish until Kageyama kept begging you to pay attention to you. So a suggestion of him cockwarming you, some edging, and teasing now has you here. The tip of Kageyama's ears burns, not thinking it his neediness would result to this.
"ah! y-yeah i-im mmph! fine!" You let out a sigh before putting your pencil down and running your hand through his hair. You suddenly grab a fistful of it and pull it back, making kageyama let out a gasp as he throws his head back. Your other hand roams down his body to grip his thigh, giving it a squeeze.
In this new position, you're able to see kageyama much better. His face is flushed red and his eyes are hooded as he looks at you. You look at his dick and how pre cum continues to leak out of it like a broken faucet. The substance continues to drip down his dick and to the base. Ragged breaths escape him and your eyes trail down to where your strap disappears into his ass. The feeling of your eyes down there makes him subconsciously squeeze around your strap, making him let out a small moan. So needy.
"Really? It seems like you're falling apart on top of me already though from what I can tell." Kageyama lets out a cry when you grab his hips to slam him down on your strap, a squirt of his cum spurting out of his dick and staining your shirt. There's no warning for him as you continue your actions.
"s-shit o-oh my god! let me cum, please!" Kageyama lets out a sob when the strap hits the spot inside him that makes his toes curl and back arch back against the desk. When you keep going, kageyama begins to think that you're finally going to let him cum and pleas and begs flood out of his mouth. That's until you stop. He cries out before looking at you with tears brimming his eyes.
"Y-You're so mean, [name]! Stop t-teasing me!" He cries at you, trying to subtly grind against your strap as he paws at your chest. It's been the same thing over and over again. You pay attention to your work for a while before finally paying attention to him. But it doesn't last long cause all you do is edge him close to his orgasm, make him think each time would be the time that you finally let him cum, before stopping altogether and ruining his release. Then you go back to your work as if nothing happened.
You coo at him, cupping his cheek. You feel him lean into your touch with a pout on his lips. How cute.
"But you just make it so easy to be mean to you, baby. You let out those noises I love so much and you're just so pretty when you cry. I can't help teasing you." Kageyama shoves his head into the crook of your neck, hiding his red face. You hear him sniffle and he grips onto your shoulders for support.
"I-I keep getting so close! It h-hurts, [name]." You begin to mark his neck, leaving bite marks and hickeys here and there. Afterwards, you admire how the colors of the marks compliments his skin so prettily. While a part of you feels bad for edging him for a while now, another part wants him to beg for it more, to make him cry.
"Don't you want to be good, though? Wanna be a good boy for me, yeah?" He whines and nods hastily. Of course he does! "That's what I thought too. Good boys do what they're told don't they? So how about you let me do it again, hm? One more time, please?" Kageyama's breath hitches in his throat. You raise a eyebrow at his hesitation.
While he wants to be good for you, the pain in his dick and being denied release a couple times now is starting to get to him and he feels his mind getting foggy. Though of course, the right answer is always clear to him. He wants to be good for you.
He nods again but you tap his cheek, wanting a verbal answer from him. "Y-Yes." You smile at him. "Good boy. Tell me when you're close, alright?"
He shivers at the praise but you surprise him when you grab his dick and begin stroking it, the pace immediately quickening. He widens his eyes, the feeling of his orgasm and the need to release quickly coming back and overwhelming him. His noises fill the room and you almost feel bad for your neighbors who would surely hear him. Almost.
He shuts his eyes close and as his release quickly returns back, he's quick to tell you about it. Even though he knows it's going to happen, he still lets out a broken whine when you release your hand from his dick, ripping his orgasm away from him.
Tears are streaming down his face by now and you have to wipe them off his face. His eyelashes are clumped together and his eyes are glossy.
"You're doing so good for me, baby. That was the last one remember?"
He swallows and nods. You admire the way tears streak down his red face. Fuck, he looks so pretty like this.
"Bet you want to cum now right, doesn't it hurt?" Kageyama lets out a quiet 'yes', pouting at you.
"Go on then, put on a show and ride me." You don't have to tell him twice as his grip on you tightens. He puts his calves on the seat and sits up, slowly taking your strap out of him until it's merely a inch away from his hole. He bites his lip in anticipation and neediness. Seconds later he slams himself down on it, the strap entering him in one smooth movement. A scream leaves his mouth as it fills him up to the brim.
He begins bouncing on top of you so quickly that it's almost like he forgot how you two are only on a chair. Sure the environment may not be the best for him to ride you but the both of you barely cares. All you're focused on is him.
You watch as he quickly falls apart in front of you once again and becomes quickly overwhelmed at the pace and intensity he set for himself. But he doesn't choose to slow down, wanting to chase his high as fast as possible. His mouth is wide open and drool begins falling from the corner of it. He looks so fucked out that you can't help but wish to take a picture and savor it forever.
You notice the bulge on his stomach every time your strap enters him and you press down on the spot, grinning when Kageyama lets out a choked moan at the feeling.
"f-feels so good, [name]." There's a teasing grin on your face. "It feels so good as you ride me, doesn't it? I'm making you feel so good, right?" He nods dumbly even though he doesn't even process what you just said. All your words just go in one ear and out the other.
Incoherent words leave his mouth and you struggle to understand what he's saying. Though you don't really need to know how he feels from his words, the amount and volume of his noises tell you enough about how he's feeling.
"[name], please," he whines. He doesn't even know what he's begging for anymore. His hole sucks in your strap so greedily as if it wants more ever time it enters him.
He can barely think properly. All his thoughts are scrambled and instead are replaced by the feeling of your strap and how it's just hitting all the right spots in him. He feels so full and warm that he doesn't even release how he's about to cum.
The feeling of cumming hits his body suddenly and he lets out a wail at the intense feeling. After being edged so many times, it only makes it better when he finally gets to cum. Cum shoots out his dick and it makes a mess everywhere. It stains his chest and also your top but you don't care. Kageyama continues to ride your strap and you realize that it seems like he's not going to stop anything soon. You don't even have to overstimulate him, he's already doing it himself!
The sound of skin on skin is sinful as it floods your ears. It along with his noises are music to your ears and you swear you could hear them forever and would never get tired of it. Praises spill from your mouth and Kageyama whines at each one.
An idea hits you and you quickly push everything out of the way on your desk. Your hands reach for his waist and when you notice Kageyama slowing down, you lift him off you and push him against the desk. Before he could beg you to put the strap in again, you do it yourself and slam it back in him. The new angle makes his eyes roll back and let out a mewl. He chokes on his spit and all he can do is lay there all pretty for you as you fuck his brains out. After being edged so many times, the feeling of overstimulation is heaven for him.
It's going to be a long night and he knows that by the morning, he won't be able to walk properly. Well, it's not like he's complaining of course.
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🏷️: @Vealize21 @fabitheraven @sourissue @jksstuffposts @gallantys @tired-of-life-86 @ineedsleeporilldie @aphoneixnamed-angel @flawlessvictorymentality @wowonamo @euphiroo @saintravey @tomiokx @archer-fb @d1gitalbathh @Lifesucksweswallow @rxflen @aspengagrimlin @ilovemenwhowhimperandbeg @lamees004 @22rhianna2006 @literary-latte @cl-0-vr @qweenjx @mysicklove @uniquebeautylove1 @someonepleasesedateme @arminsesposa
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ariisheresstuff · 9 months
Text
Raised Voice
Pairings: Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader
Summary: You are visiting your boyfriend while he’s at work, unfortunately for you, you didn’t know Carmy wasn’t having the best day and he ends up taking it out on you and embarrassed you in front of the whole crew.
Genre: Angst to fluff
Warnings: Yelling, cursing, and crying
MasterList
A/N: My requests are open! Have a good day! <3
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“Yo cousin! Would ya stop being such a jag off for two fucking seconds?!?” Richie yelled across the kitchen to Carmen who was giving him a nasty scowl.
“Shut the fuck up Richie, I don’t have time for all your bullshit.” Carmy said with a attitude making Richie roll his eyes. Carmy ran his hand through his messy locks as he tried to take some deep breaths to calm himself down, but clearly that wasn’t working for him. Just the whole day has been shitty for him and he couldn’t figure out why. Carmen wiped the sweat from his forehead as he stormed off into his office slamming the door.
“There he goes again with one of his moods.” Sydney said as she was cleaning up her station. Richie walked passed her as he huffed.
“He’s been such a dick this whole day. Probably missing his girl or something.”
Sydney just nodded with a sigh as she continued to clean up while Richie took cover of the front of the restaurant.
You opened the door to the entrance and immediately smiled seeing Richie.
“A table for one?” You teased as Richie’s head quickly rose to the sound of your voice, he quickly smiled as he walked over to you.
“Y/N, thank the fucking lord you’re here.” Richie pulled you into a hug, you hugged him back but looked at him confused at what he meant by that.
“What do you mean?” You questioned as he lead through the kitchen to greet the others.
“Carmy is being a real jag off right now and pushing everyone down. I think he’s been having one of those days.”
You frowned at that, you really hated when Carmy was like this. It hurt you to see him so distraught. You gave Richie an apologetic smile as you apologized to everyone else.
“I’ll talk to him, I know how much of a hot head he can be. Especially when he’s like this.” You teased making Richie snort.
Richie gave you a quick “thank you” as he rubbed your shoulder, you gave him a soft smile before taking in a sigh and walking up to Carmy’s office door. You lifted your fist and hesitated with knocking. You took a deep breath before knocking.
“Who the fuck is it?” Carmy snarled back making you wince slightly.
“It’s me babe, Y/N.” You said with a soft tone trying not to anger him more. You heard him moving before the door opened swiftly. You looked up at your boyfriend who had the most nastiest frown on his face.
“Why are you here?” He said with attitude making you frown a bit.
“I came to see you, until Richie told me you weren’t having the best day. What’s wrong?” You asked as you raised a hand to cup his face. Softly stroking his cheek with your thumb to calm him down. You gasped softly as he immediately slapped your hand away.
“I don’t need to tell you every single fucking thing, okay?!? So stop pestering me all the damn time! It’s annoying as fuck and it’s keeping me down with work. Don’t bother me anymore I’m tired of your bullshit. Leave now, I’m dead ass serious Y/N. I’m tired of you!!!”
You flinched back as your eyes widened. Carmen just yelled at you. Like really yelled at you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You felt your throat tighten as fat tears clouded your vision. You didn’t even hear the others coming in asking what the hell just happened. You just stared at Carmy with the most heartbreaking face. You realized his facial expressions changed quickly from looking at the tears falling down your face. Before he could say anything, he heard Richie’s voice.
“What the fuck just happened here?!?” Richie roared as he stared at Carmen before looking at you. Tina pulled you into her arms as she shushed your cries bringing you outside with Sydney.
“Why the fuck would you yell at her cousin?!? She did nothing to you. I asked her to check on you and you yell at her? Now you’re a real jagoff for that cousin. That wasn’t cool.” Richie shook his head in disappointment. He turned away as he went outside to calm you down with the others.
Carmen just stood there as he processed what he just did. He fucking yelled at you. His girl, the love of his life. He yelled at you and made you cry.
“Fuck.” He said with a crack in his voice before punching the door in anger. “Fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you Carmen?!? Get your fucking shit together!” He yelled at himself as he sat back down on his chair. Running his hands through his hair in frustration. He took a few deep breaths like you taught him to calm down. He cleared his throat before standing up. He took one big deep breath and exhaling before walking to the entrance to find you.
“I-I can’t believe he j-just yelled at me.” You sobbed into Tina’s chest as she rubbed your back.
“It’s okay mama, that’s just Jeff being an asshole. I know for sure he is regretting yelling at you like that.”
You hiccuped as you turned your head to look at Richie. He shook his head as he came by you and rubbed your back with Tina.
“I’m sorry Y/N. Carmy knows better. Little asshole. He especially should not be disrespectful like that towards you. His girl. Such a fucking jagoff.”
You wiped away you tears as you gave Richie a frown. “A-all I was doing was m-making sure he was o-okay.” You said with a whimper as you felt more tears fall.
Richie and Sydney were about to say something before the door opened and everyone turned their heads to stare at Carmen. Everyone gave him a look making him look down at the ground. He especially refused to look at your broken self.
“I-I I need to talk to Y/N. Alone.” He said as he looked at Richie who gave him a frown.
Richie nodded his head to the door, signaling everyone to go inside and to give Carmen and you some private time. Tina kissed your temple making you smile a bit, Sydney squeezed your hand and gave a soft smile, and Richie patted your shoulder as he nodded at you. Everyone left leaving you and Carmen alone.
You looked down at your feet refusing to look into his eyes, you didn’t even realize Carmen walked in front of you, now closer to you. He softly cupped your face making your head lift up. You had no choice but to look into his blue eyes that had sorrow in them. You felt more tears burning in your eyes. Your lip trembling. He quickly wiped the tears falling down your cheeks.
“Baby… I’m so, so, so sorry for yelling at you like that. That was such a fucking dick move of me. I should’ve never taken my anger out on you. I was just having a bad day and I know that shouldn’t be an excuse for my behaviors towards you. I just want you to know that I really love you and that I really am sorry for yelling and embarrassing you like that in front of everyone. I will never let that happen again and I’ll do anything for you. Anything.”
You hiccuped as you tried to talk but the sobs just came out that you were holding in. Carmy quickly pulled you into his arms. Comforting you like the good boyfriend he is.
“It’s okay baby. I’m so sorry, I never wanna be the reason for your tears. I love you so fucking much. I hope you know that.” Carmy kissed your head repeatedly as you wrapped your arms around his waist and snuggled into his chest.
“I’m sorry you h-had a bad day Carmy.” You whispered as your tears startled to settle down. You looked up at him as he gave you a sad smile at the tear stains you had on your cheeks. He cupped your face again as he leaned down to leave a long kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes at the touch.
“Don’t be sorry, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who should be sorry. You were just looking out for me and that’s what I love about you. You always makes sure I’m okay and that shows how caring you are babe. I swear I didn’t mean any of that shit. Please forgive me. Please.” Carmy whispered as he pulled your face in closer to his. Your noses touching lightly and feeling each other’s soft breaths. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you gave him a smile.
“I forgive you Carmy. But the next time you pull some shit like that again I’m gonna cut your dick off and make you eat it.” You playfully said making Carmen snort.
“I definitely don’t want that to happen. I’ll be 100% sure that I won’t pull that again on you. Never ever.” Carmen said softly with a smile as he leaned closer.
You leaned closer to feeling his lips softly touch yours. You both leaned into the kiss as you enjoyed the moment. You sighed happily while Carmen cupped your face to bring you closer to him. Completely forgetting you were outside in public.
“I love you so much Y/N, I hope you know that.” Carmen said between your lips
You giggled, “And I love you more Carmy. I always will love you.”
At that you two began to kiss more passionately. You two didn’t even notice that the crew was watching you guys the whole time through the window smiling.
“There they go sucking faces again. Jesus fucking christ! They always go at it.” Richie said as he faked gagged.
Tina smacked Richie on his arm giving him a stern look “You’re just mad because you don’t have what they have.”
“Damn!!!! Richie you just got burned!” Marcus said while Sydney and him started to cackle in the back.
Richie gave Tina an offended look making Tina chuckle.
“Man, fuck you guys!” Richie flipped them off as he pouted while they continued to laugh at him.
They didn’t even notice the two of you walking back into the restaurant hand in hand. They turned to look at the two of you.
“So, y’all made up?” Sydney said with her arms crossed.
“Yup all good, told him to never pull that shit again or I’m cutting his dick off.”
Richie choked on his soda that he was drinking before laughing out the soda. Carmen just rolled his eyes as Richie began to tease him. As long as the two of you were okay, he was okay.
Tag-List: @otomefan @chunnies @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25 @th3h0nkz
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rinhaler · 8 months
Note
May I humbly ask for Satoru Gojo stepcest with noncon dacryphilia and breeding kink? No pressure it's just something that crossed my mind
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of COURSE you may sweetheart! Thank you for the request, sorry it's a little short but I hope it's okay :3
warnings: 18+ MDNI, noncon, fem!reader, stepcest, step bro!gojo, vaginal sex, he pushes fingers in once and then pulls 'em out, dacryphilia, creampie, breeding kink, hair pulling.
words: 0.9k
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“I knew you had a thing for Suguru… how embarrassing.” your step-brother teases you as he enters your room. You scoff, hanging up on your friend and tossing your phone down on your dressing table. “What? Something I said?” he chuckles.
“I can’t stand you, leave me alone.”
“Awe, don’t be like that, let me help. He is my best friend after all. No one knows him better than I do.” he reminds you.
The offer is intriguing and almost too good to refuse. He smirks as he watches your thought process through your facial expressions. You catch him, shaking your head and turning your nose up at his offer. You turn to look in yourself mirror, touching up your makeup.
“You got me. I can’t help, he’d never be interested in you.”
“Why would you say that?” you look at him again, pouting. “I’m minding my own business in here. You just came in and tried to ruin my day.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” he responds. “I don’t want you to fuck him.”
“Hah, why? Because you want to fuck me?”
“That’s right.” he nods, coming further into your room and shutting the door behind himself.
“Well that will never happen!” you slam your blush palette down on the table. You bend to pick up your purse, and you catch the way his head tilts in your mirror to check out your ass. “Satoru. Never gonna happen.”
He rolls his eyes as he steps closer to you. You’re too busy rummaging through your handbag to notice until he’s behind you. Before you can yell at him, his hand covers your mouth. You had no idea he was so strong, unable to fight him as he pulls you over to your bed. He collapses on top of you and shoves your face into the mattress.
“Sweetheart… you don’t have a choice.”
Your kicking does little to dissuade him, and neither does your muffled speech as you try and think of anything to say to stop this from happening. Of course, it’s all in vain. He pushes your skirt up to reveal your plump ass and lacy panties. His big hands make light work of ripping the material apart, giving himself easy access to your tight heat.
His fingers weave through your hair, pulling your head up away from the patch below that you had warmed with your heavy breathing.
“You cryin’?” he smirks. You hate that he can see what he’s reduced you to. You’re scared and tense and all too aware of what he’s about to do. He pulls out his cock with ease, fisting it a few times before lining it up with your tight hole. “If you tell me you want this, I’ll poke you.” he chuckles, the unmistakable laughter signifying that he’s going to get what he wants no matter what you say. It’s so annoying, normally. But right now, it’s harrowing.
“You—”
“Yeah, princess. I’ll poke you.” he moves his fingers to prod at your entrance, sliding two of them inside and coating them in your slick. “Juuuust like that. And it won’t hurt as much when you take my cock, it’s big, y’know.”
You ignore him, opting to put your face back into the mattress to stifle yourself for what’s to come. He shrugs, his offer and kindness isn’t going to be repeated.
“Suit yourself… guess I’ll have to be a little rough.”
He pushes his tip against your entrance, hissing as your hole swallows him beautifully. It’s almost like you want this. He pushes in further… further… further. Until your sopping cunt meets the base of his cock. Your slick coats his white, trimmed pubes and they look like diamond dust.
You cry out as he moves his hips, tears streaming down your face without any sign of stopping. He smirks, sadistically, understanding that you regret not taking him up on his generous offer.
“You can be as loud as you want, little sister. No one is home… so scream for me.”
As much as you want to, you fight it. You keep your screams to yourself, but the same can’t be said for your tears. He pulls your hair again, almost ripping it from the roots as he pulls your face close to his own. His head tilts forward so he can lick the salty tears pouring down your cheeks.
“Fuck, gets me goin’ when pretty things like you cry around my cock.” he tells you, hips stuttering as he continues fucking into you. “You know what else I like? Cumming inside. ‘nd I’m real close.”
“You can’t! Pull out! Please Sato—”
“Oh no. Does my poor little sister use condoms? You aren’t on the pill? Well, guess I’ll just have to knock you up. Suguru really won’t want’cha then, you’ll be aaaall mine.”
Your fingers grasp as the duvet material beneath you as you try to ground yourself, you’re close, but you’re hoping he’ll cum first. You leave your body in the final moments of this encounter, picturing which drug store is closest and which one opens earliest so you can get the morning after pill as soon as possible. All the while Gojo is fantasising how cute you’d look stuffed full with his baby.
He grunts as his balls tighten and empty inside of you.
“I should pull out… but I don’t wanna waste a drop.” both of his palms slam down on your ass, and he laughs at the way you jolt forward. “Not that is matters.”
“What… do you mean?”
“Well, sweetheart, you didn’t think that was it… did you?”
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© 2023 rinitxshi
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cameronspecial · 26 days
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cpuld u do an angst to happy ending with rafe where like there could be a bet that he dates the reader kind of like the plot of ‘after’ if youve seen or read it and when she finds out shes like “youre breaking my heart” like that scene from padme and anakin but it ends up happy? MEERY CHRISTMASSS
You're Breaking My Heart
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.8K
A/N: Merry Christmas to you too! I'm so sorry this is late.
Masterlist
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Y/N should’ve known he was going to break her heart. He isn’t meant to be in a relationship; he isn’t one to be tied down. What she heard just proved it. “I bet that I can have her wanting me by the end of the year,” he says in the video coming from her phone. It was sent from an unknown number to her and Rafe, yet it doesn’t matter because the damage is already done. The front door opens and he comes through the door with the takeout he went to get. His grin is wide as he looks at her, setting the bag on the table. He notices her sombre mood and hurries to her side. “What happened?” he asks, holding her face between his hands. She steps out of his grasp and escapes his touch every time he tries to approach. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he repeats. She lets her tears brim at the corner of her eyes, refusing to look at him. “Tell me what happened!” Having enough of his questioning, she whips towards him with anger. “You’re breaking my heart. That’s what’s wrong,” she yells, staring daggers at him. His frustration grows as he tugs at the end of his hair, “What are you talking about? What did I do, Baby?” She shoves his phone into his chest. “You went down a path I never thought you would. You are a liar and a cheat and I hope I never see you again,” she mumbles, picking up her purse and storming out. 
His phone screen lights up and he sees a text notification. He opens the video attached, not needing to see more than a second of it to know what it is. It’s a video of the night he said something he never should’ve said because now, it ruined the best thing he ever had. 
———
The tears haven’t stopped pouring in hours and she doesn’t know how to stop it. The knock at the door pulls her from her bed cocoon. She pads towards the door and swings it open, immediately trying to close it when she sees who it is. His strong hand stops her and he pushes his way in. “I don’t want you here,” she sniffles, turning away so he can’t see her vulnerable state. His heart aches at her pain, “I know, but we need to talk.” 
“I don’t want to talk to a liar and to someone who doesn’t even love me.” 
By now, he has cornered her against the wall and she has to crane her neck to look at him. His fist slams against the wall, “Don’t say that.” He takes a deep breath when he sees her small jump in fear. He brings his hand up to place on her cheek but second-guesses himself at the memory of her removing herself from his hold. The new tears that begin to crop up make him hate himself even more. He runs his fingers through his hair, “I’m sorry. Can we please just talk?” “Okay,” she mumbles, a little afraid of what he may do. Although, deep down, she knows he would never hurt her. She holds her hand up with her palm up for him to begin. He takes a step back and lets out a breath. “I do love you. And I know I should say the bet was a mistake, except it wasn’t,” he begins. She chuckles, “That is a horrible way to begin.” He rests his warm hand on her cheek. “Because without it, then I wouldn’t have been able to get to know how amazing you are. And that is a thought that kills me,” he states, drawing a strand of hair behind her ear. 
“Why would it kill you?” she mutters, letting her heart lead the conversation. He lowers his face closer to her, “Because you are the only thing in my life that has ever made me feel alive. I will understand if you can never forgive me and I will forever be sorry for the pain this bet has caused, but I will never be sorry for making it because it gave me my time with you.” Her heart tells her to jump into his arms and forgive him, yet her brain tells her to slow down. Sweet words don’t mean all is alright. So, she settles for something in between. She holds him above his elbows and looks into his eyes. “If you really feel that way, then I guess we can try again,” she offers. The excitement he shows is cut short by her continuation. “However, you have a lot to do to gain back my trust and we can’t pretend you never hurt me.” He nods like a madman, “I’m fine with that. I would rather have to walk on broken glass without you if it leads me to your trust than to lose you forever.” She wraps her arms around her waist, bringing him down for a kiss. 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld
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mikrokcsmos · 1 year
Text
That That (I Like That)
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synopsis; in which your boyfriend’s loud moans and groans wake you up from your sleep at 4 in the morning and you’re about ready to throw hands — and so is he, but for completely different reasons.
pairing; vlive!jungkook x girlfriend!reader
genre; twinge of angst, mainly fluff and humor, Weverse live au
rating; PG-13
warnings; the word damn (x2) and suggestive dialogue/themes, just boyfriend koo in all his glory tbh
w/c; 1,283
a/n; don’t mind the poor excuse of a banner I tried to make on my own. shout out to @sftk0o for the perfect icons 💕
You tried to ignore it, you really did; believing the first loud moan you heard was a part of the not so innocent dream you found yourself in that involved your boyfriend only moments ago. Eyelids closing as you relaxed your body once more, head snuggling back into your pillow to begin the descent back into said racy dreamland — only for it to be interrupted by a loud distanced slam, your body tensing in fear, heart racing.
“DAMN.” He grunted, no – moaned out loud, you picturing his face instantly – brows pinched in concentration and nose scrunched cutely, bottom lip sucked in between his teeth. Can almost hear the low whine in your head that he always does just as he finishes—
Hands immediately searched the bed next to you for a warmth that was non-existent, all that greeted you being the cold fabric of the sheets that have been pulled back for quite some time it seemed. Another loud slam, accompanied by the same noticeable whine following not even a second later has you pushing yourself out of the bed, but this time not in fear, no.
This time it was because of pure and unadulterated anger.
Running on pure adrenaline, head in a fog and mind racing with worst case scenarios to what you’re about to witness has your bare feet bringing you closer and closer to where the noise continues to resonate from — the kitchen.
Just as you’re about to turn the corner, you freeze, hand on wall, a drawn out ‘damn’ piercing your ears that has your eyes welling with bitter tears on the verge of falling. Nails digging into the white of the wall, you push off, utilizing the momentum to push you the rest of the way into the kitchen and in full view of the sight in front of you.
Your voice dies in your throat, before it reaches your mouth, and you remain silent.
Jungkook has his head face down into the edge of the table, fists clenched on either side as his arms flex from the action. Quietly, you edge forward towards his hunched over form, eyes scanning the room around you for any other human other than yourself, and your body sags in relief as you start to piece together the cause of the grunts, moans, and curses.
Food. Fucking food. You should’ve known.
The aroma fills your nostrils, causing your own mouth to salivate and you weren’t even hungry. The smell of freshly sautéd chicken, scallions, and melted cheese wafts in the air along with the nutty flavors of sesame oil from the large skillet that still sits on the burner of the stove built into the table, most of its contents long gone. A bowl of microwaveable white rice sits next to a clenched fist, the other one now raised in the air as if preparing to strike someone, a spoon nestled in the last remnants.
Jungkook, still high off his food induced fever, pushes himself up to immediately unleash the finger guns of a choreo you know all too well at this point, his hips thrusting in time to the tune you have no doubt is engrained in his brain at this point as well as yours.
Despite your best efforts to remain as quiet as possible, you not missing the way his phone is suspiciously propped up against a stack of cookbooks neither of you have bothered opening yet that lets you know he’s currently live on Weverse, a puff of laughter from your lips causes him to pause mid hip thrust, wide doe eyes landing on your amused figure.
“The food was that good, hm?”
A sheepish, guilty grin is all you get in reply, his feet moving him towards you. When he’s close enough, his head dips down to brush a chaste kiss on your lips.
“Did I wake you?” He quietly questions, brows furrowed in worry when he notices the red that is prominent along your eye line. “Did you have a bad dream? Were you crying?”
The questions are in rapid succession, and you have to place the palms of your hands against his lightly stubbled chin, pressing his cheeks together and making his lips pucker at you like a fish to get him to stop talking long enough for you to explain.
“Your wanton moans are what woke me up, made me think that there was—,” you trail off, voice barely a whisper. “—other activities taking place in here that didn’t involve eating food.”
The sharp intake of breath he does let’s you know he understands the hidden meaning behind your words, his hands coming up to pull yours off of his face, and bring your body flush against his. A frown is now prominent on his usually smiling lips.
“Baby, I hope you know I would never cheat on you. Especially not in our house, and in our kitchen. This—,” his large hands trail down your sides, leaving nothing but warmth in their wake. “—is all I’ll ever want or need. You are it for me, jagi.”
A heat makes it’s way up your neck and to your cheeks, his words warming your heart and the inner guilt that festers within you unraveling.
As you stare into his brown eyes, you see nothing but truth and love, nothing but future and promise.
“I know. Im sorry for even allowing the thought to cross my mind. It was stupid of me to think. Besides, I don’t think I have to worry about any person stealing you away from me.” Your fingers interlock behind his neck, arms hanging loosely around his neck. “Food on the other hand? Now that’s what I should be concerned of. That chicken had you making noises I only ever heard you make in the bedroom.”
His head drops into the crook of your neck as he lets out an embarrassed whine, warm breath and lips that brush against your collarbone making goosebumps erupt on your skin and you shiver. His arms circle your waist in a vice grip as his upper body relaxes against your shorter one.
“Sleepy, baby?”
“Mhm. ‘m tired.” He mumbles into your skin sleepily, voice laced with a newfound exhaustion due to his full and satiated belly.
“Let’s go to bed, yeah?”
“Yep, just gotta turn the live off first.”
“Jeon Jungkook, you and your random late night lives will literally be the death of you.”
He reluctantly straightens up, arms leaving your body to stretch up into the air above his head as he lets out a loud yawn.
“No, they won’t, baby.”
“Need I remind you of the candle incident?”
Eyes squinting at you, tongue in cheek, he remains silent and you know you’ve won this round.
“I’ll be waiting in bed, don’t take too long, okay?”
You take a step back as he takes a step forward, lips chasing yours for a quick, yet equally as lingering kiss that makes your breath catch in your lungs. Noses touching, he whispers so only you can hear.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, and your foodgasms.”
You snicker and turn to make a fast getaway, his fingertips only having enough time to graze the swole of your ass as you skip away from him and disappear around the corner until you’re out of sight.
It only takes five minutes for his sock clad feet to slide into the entrance of your room, and two seconds for his body to land on yours as you erupt into a fit of laughter on your shared bed that turns into soft sighs, grunts and moans that you know is because of you this time.
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fraugwinska · 2 months
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Hello Springflower~
*slams envelope on the table and stare you into your soul whispering*
Alastor x reader where reader is asking him to show off as a fake "couple" because of one sinner who just won't stop annoying reader. Al agreed to help his dear friend and it started of innocent and cute with hand holding, kiss on the cheek- when SUDDENLY he kiss reader (in front of the sinner ofc) INTENSE and when he just stops for a second to kiss her neck she's like: "Al...? He's gone."
And he is like: "how disapointing"~
And just GOES ON
*leaves a heart cupcake next to the envelope and runs away*
For you - anything, sweet summer child. This just flowed out of me, and I was kicking my own feet as I wrote it. So... Here you go ;> I sincerely hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️
Fake it 'till you Make it
The door slammed into it's frame with a bang so loud the glasses in it rattled. You panted, heart pounding hard in your chest as you tried to calm your erratic breathing. With shaking fingers you gripped the dark, wooden frame, so tight your nails scratched the furnishing off. You peered out of the yellow and red stained glasses, trying to identify the distorted shapes from the outside. Did he follow you? Was he still out there?
„What's...“
You felt a hand on your shoulder and reacted without thinking. You turned around with a shocked scream and whipped your arm out for a forceful slap. The sound reverberated around in the empty room as a slight stinging sensation ran through your palm. It snapped you back to reality and made you pause.
You blinked as your gaze went from your own, trembling hand, which now burned in an angry, red hue to a taupe face, the shadow of your handprint next to a wide, yellow smile. Your breath seemed to freeze as your eyes went up and finally met a pair of wide, burgundy ones.
"...the matter, dear?" Alastor finished, blinking before his face shifted slightly.
You stood speechless and frozen for a hot second, trying to recollect your thoughts before a tidal wave of emotion washed over your head. Embarrassment, followed by shock and, suddenly, by the sensation that started to build in your chest, the threat to bubble over in tears.
„Oh satan, Alastor, I-I'm so sorry. I, shit, I got you bad, I'm so sorry, th-there was.. and I was.."
You choked down another sob, words and feelings clogging up in your mouth. You rubbed at your stinging eyes, blinking away what you were trying desperately not to show. You thought it would have worked at least until Alastor's slender hands came up to wrap around your wrist and pull them away gently.
"Are you a singer, dear?" he chimed, his face unmoved, but his eyes softening a little. "Because that really was quite the hit! Ha ha!"
When you didn't join in his laugh, he immediately snapped out of it.
"But it seems my little joke was out of place, once again. What has you so rattled, little one?"
And this time, he actually made space and dropped the joke-y act, looking a bit worried. Which only added more pressure to the well in your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut to hold back any tears that tried to fight their way through, making yourself feel ridiculous.
"It's... there's this guy."
You swallowed sour spit down, licking your lips quickly before opening your mouth again, voice less shaky than you were feeling. "I saw him two weeks ago when I went grocery shopping with Niffty. He... he asked us for directions, I didn't know where the place he wanted to go was, and that was that. But ever since..."
Alastor's frown deepened. "Ever since then..?" he prompted carefully.
"...he kind of... pops up whenever I leave the hotel... he just shows up out of nowhere and asks me things. Follows me, doesn't listen when I tell him to leave me alone, doesn't know boundaries.." you balled your fists again, brows twitching down at the thought. "And today.. he tried to grab me, and I panicked, and I kicked him and he looked like..."
You looked back to the glasses.
"...it felt as if he was about to do something."
Alastor stared into you with these piercing eyes. It wasn't creepy, you didn't feel scrutinized or looked down on, and this wasn't the first time. Still, you felt that strange sense of unease in his intense gaze, like a cold hand was wrapped around your spine, running shivers down your back. It wasn't uncomfortable, per se, just... different. It had been months since you started your new job in the Hazbin Hotel as a bellhop, helping Charlie and Vaggie out in general. You weren't one to believe in redemption, but the work was easy, the residents nice and life, despite being dead, was good. It wasn't exactly peaceful, since living together with the radio demon sometimes had its challenges, but Alastor proved time after time that even if he could be quite eccentric, he was a good man deep down, funny and smart and interesting. Someone you could consider a friend.
That, however, didn't mean that he didn't spook you from time to time. He straightened his shoulders, brushed out imaginary dust from the sleeves of his suit, and when he spoke, there was an unmoving threat in his voice that he almost always hid behind his grins.
"He attempted to harm you?"
You furrowed your brows and stepped closer, leaving a little bit of space between you.
"I don't know... it felt like that. I didn't give it enough time to find out, I just ran back here."
"Smart girl.", he just commented, leaning over you to also watch the street through bulky glasses. You sighed and glanced out the windows. The sky had dimmed, red tinting the streets as it always did down here in the evenings. A few stray sinners stumbled along, either searching for a victim for the night or going home from their own sins. Still no trace of the demon. You could still feel the hot air of his breath on your neck when he bent forward. You grimaced at the thought of the stench of his sweat on the sleeves of your jacket.
"God... how am I going to go anywhere with him around?", you muttered to yourself, stepping back further and leaning against the table, burying your face into your hands. Alastor perked up at that. He tapped his cane against the floor.
"Oh, well I can't in good conscience allow my dear employee to fear the streets of the pentagram because of a silly pest."
You didn't catch his meaning. At least, not immediately. You shot a glance his way, giving him a skeptical look, furrowing a brow in confusion. "What do you-?"
He waved his cane, cutting you off, and put an arm around your shoulders. "I shall accompany you, then. When you need to go out, let me know and we'll show ourselves together. That sinner will get the gist then, I'm sure."
Your eyes widen. "Alastor, you're a genius!" you say with excitement as the thought slowly took root in your head, "If this creep thinks we're a couple, he might stay away."
"A what now?", Alastor asks, his smile faltering ever so slightly. However, his question was lost in your sudden enthusiasm, your excited rush of thoughts now loud and clear in your voice. "Then we should play the role in every aspect. We have to give off couple vibes, maybe show some PDA, nothing overboard, I know you don't like that kind of stuff, but holding hands might be believable enough. Oh, you're the best, Alastor."
"Yes, yes... so I've been told...", he replied with the usual giddy tone, although his voice sounded a little thick with white static.
You didn't pay much attention to it though, feeling a weight drop from your shoulders at the prospect of keeping the nuisance at bay. The whole idea might seem a bit strange to the others, but if it helped, why not?
***
"Well then, darling, ready to give the performance of your lifetime?", Alastor called the moment you exited the elevator. He was practically hopping over, grinning at you with a mixture of smugness, amusement and... something else. His smile grew, showcasing his pointed, sharp teeth with a flash. He was looking as dapper as always, dress coat neat and perfectly in place, cane ready at his hands - the radio demon as he breathed and lived.
"I hope so..." you muttered distractedly while straightening the hem of your uniform and peeking around the lobby. It was early morning and you had a not-so-short list of errands to run for the hotel. Alastor had been nonchalant about the trip when you asked him to accompany you last night, and you had half-assumed he had some matters of his own to tend to, or just flat-out backing out. But he just waved his hands and told you he'd be there at 8 a.m. sharp, which he was. In ALL the ways.
As it turned out the rumors of your plan must have traveled down the hotel grapevines fast and after a small bang and a hissed “Sssshhh!” from the left you saw the curious faces of Charlie, Niffty and Angel poking out the kitchen door, spying from afar and watching you and Alastor with bated breaths and loud-yet-shushed giggles.
"Don't tell me you're having a second thoughts on me accompanying you, dear.", Alastor stepped closer, wrapping his fingers around your hand in a tight grip, either oblivious to the audience or utterly non-fazed by them. You shook your head no, grimacing a little as your body tensed up in a bit of... concern. Not because of what you were about to do, no, it had everything and nothing to do with him and the... um. Hand. Touching.
"We can hear you, you know.", you hissed in the direction of the whispered squeals at his gesture, face scrunching up when a peal of giggling broke out and Angel audibly snorted through a quickly closed door. "Jus' be careful, tits, if 'ya go further than that with the oldtimer 'ya might need to buy some protection while 'ya out."
***
The plan was quite simple, but you guessed it had the possibility of either working like a charm or the idiot getting so mad, he could lose it and try something stupid.
Nevertheless, with Alastor on your side you didn't feel as paranoid and suffocated about leaving the grounds of the hotel. And his idea had worked out brilliantly so far. Not a single sign of your stalker, you had only met the usual faces on the main market road of the Pentagram City - maybe they stared a little more... okay, a LOT more, seeing you arm in arm with Al - and you ran into Angels' friend, Cherri Bomb, when you had to get some permits renewed. She had been friendly but extremely surprised and curious about since when you and Alastor, THE Radio demon were parading around 'like a pair of fuckin' newlyweds', in her words.
Alastor tried to brush her off with a monotone "What can I say? The good Lady just adores my presence.", squeezing your hand a little tighter, but his answer didn't satisfy her, so Cherri tried to pry into you, raising a brow and shooting you a smirk. "Al is a fun guy and interesting to talk to and spend time with. I like his company.", you shrugged, signing a paper, avoiding looking the cyclops into the eyes while you felt your ears redden.
It took her a good minute of blank stare, but when her grin slowly grew wider, you had no choice but to warn her with a hard stare and a small shake of your head. She rolled her one eye but she made a gesture of sealing the lips, still oogling the connection of your hands with impish delight.
At that moment you felt a squeeze on the hand, still in Alastor's grasp and his heavy stare from your right. His smile seemed fixed, a bit on the strained side, although his gaze remained cheerful.
"Everything wrapped up here, dearest?" he asked, tapping his foot impatiently.
"Almost done, just this document and the hotel can continue to serve alcohol. Husk would give me one hell of a shot if I'd forget that one."
You looked over to see if Alastor would pick up on the joke, but he was staring intently somewhere over your shoulder, so you just filed the form quickly and waved your friend goodbye. He quickened his steps, almost dragging you away as he paced down the street. You almost tripped over you own feet, trying to keep up with him.
"I think your persistent little pursuer has found us, darling. Don't look, just walk."
You sped up, also feeling a presence that had been on your heels a little longer than comfortable, a weighty silence behind your back. Still, as you rounded a corner, you just had to take a tiny peek and you saw, from the corner of your eyes, that the deranged looking coyote was gaining on you, still keeping his distance, his figure only a dark, moving smudge in the distance.
"Um... I guess now's a good time for a Plan B.", you said, halting in front of an antique shop.
Alastor's hand slid a bit lower, only his fingers curled around yours now, his warm touch tingling. "I'm thinking of it. Knowing your weak stomach, darling, bloodshed is out of the question?" he inquired, acting overly interested in a vintage gramophone showcased in the shop window and you snorted.
"You remember that?"
"Dear, it's hard to forget the amount of bile Niffty had to clean out of the dishwasher after you ran into my cooking...experiment."
"Not my proudest moment...", you laughed nervously, feeling cold sweat gather up on your back as you saw the rabid looking demon from the corner of your eye, creeping closer and closer. Alastor gave you a long, thoughtful look, before he spoke again, quietly and serious.
"Then let us both hope you'll stomach Plan B better."
Before you could think much, Alastor turned towards you, untangling his fingers from yours. His now freed hand cupped your cheek, and before you could say anything, he bowed down, tilting his head a bit to the side and gently pressed his ever-smiling lips against yours.
It was not your first kiss in your afterlife, but it might have very well been, seeing as your first response was an electric jolt up your spine. And this reaction wasn't even the weirdest part if the actual kissing part was just some peck. This wasn't a peck. A kiss with lips unmoving wasn't a kiss, it was more of a mouth-touching. This was something way more.
As surprising as the kiss was the tenderness with which he brought his lips to yours. It was gentle and yet so sensual that it sent small currents all over your skin, causing your eyes to close, goosebumps to form along your arms and a nervous flutter to erupt in the pit of your stomach. And maybe, maybe it lasted for just a fraction of the eternity it felt like, but if someone would have asked you later, you would swear he stole more than just a taste with the kiss. The slight push and pull between your mouths left the edges of your skin numb, the press of his smooth and heated mouth stirring up a peculiar feeling inside you that kept growing and rising and..
What was the reason for this again?
Oh yeah, your stalker.
Stalker.
You opened your eyes, seeing Alastor's burning red eyes fixated on something behind you, his expression intense with the hint of arrogance, a possessive smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something about that, the feel, the look in his eyes, made the back of your neck prickle. You blushed a little bit more but caught onto the reason the moment you realized what he was doing, trying to break the kiss to see where the coyote was.
You could only turn your head far enough to see the quickly shrinking silhouette of the demon vanishing in the distance, before Alastor brought his other hand to your waist, pulling you closer together, his tongue slipping between your lips, coaxing your lips to open again. Your own tongue responded and, together they mingled and twined with one another, sending the nerve-ending of your lips into a pleasant tingling sensation.
"A-Alas...tor...", you tried to get the words out as he nipped your lower lip, your eyes falling into those bright, heavy lidded ones of his, eyes which you couldn't stop looking into.
"He.. he's gone."
"Mh. Pity...", Alastor breathed with a soft hum, his chest rumbling at his words. His response had a mixture of sarcasm and amusement in it, but before you could properly ponder on them, your entire mind short-circuited when you realized he made no move to pull away.
Quite the opposite - with his hand sliding to your neck he pulled you onto his mouth again, deepening the kiss as his tongue slipped past your lips once more, completely shutting your mind down as a quiet, heartbreaking moan escaped your throat.
The fact that you two were in public, still standing in front of some store, all on display for anyone that might come down the road, didn't register in the haze that was slowly, so pleasantly slowly, forming. So lost were you in that fog of heat that the surroundings suddenly got distorted, leaving the alley, the store, the city completely. Your head spun at the sensations, a tremble raked across your nerves as your knees grew weak at the sound of his playful voice, echoing in the void you found yourself in.
"Let's draw it out a little more, darling, hm? Just to make sure."
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witchofhimring · 1 month
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Being the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and claiming Cannibal
This is sort of an offshoot of my Being the Daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen where Reader claims Cannibal instead of Tessarion. Thanks to @katiekatluvz for giving me the idea! Sorry for the long wait I finally have time to write after exams!
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Minor Rhaenyra x Reader (platonic)
This happens before Aemond looses his eye.
This was dangerous, possibly suicidal. But after Aegon's comments earlier you could not take it anymore. It was another forced family gathering where Viserys tried to get his eldest child's family to sit with his second wive's. Things started out okay, there was eating and the occasional conversation. You were merely concentrating on just finishing your meal and getting the hell out. Everything fell apart, with it simple being an innocent comment made by Helaena. She had simply said; "When will you get a dragon Y/n?" Oh poor Helaena. She had meant well but of course Aegon had to stick his nose in matters not his own. "Maybe you would like a pig. Call it the pink dread." Aegon threw you a nasty look. Face heating, you shyly looked down, avoiding his gaze. Of course Aegon would find it funny to make fun of other peoples misfortune. "Shove off." Jaecery's snarled at Aegon. Aegon was not done, even when you had gone back to eating. "I guess one day you shall have a dragon. After all, you are a very strong girl." A thick blanket of tension blanketed the door. Everyone, even those at the other end, heard. Helaena's breath hitched, a low exasperated sound escaped Alicent. Aemond snorted. Your cheeks burned with hurt and shame. "Some of us burn hotter than others." Aemond added.
A fist slammed on the table. Visery's, despite being well past his prime, struck the table with enough force that it quivered. Even your mother, normally so vocal, had fallen silent. "You will not utter such slanders in this house." He snarled. At that moment Visery's did not remotely look like the loving grandfather you knew. Visery's glanced at his wife before ordering Aegon to his study. Hanging your head, you ran out of the room, ignoring your mother's cries.
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Your door was locked, barring anyone from entering. Even your beloved mother. As the hour grew late there was silence outside. Night did nothing to calm the raging heat in your heart. Of course Aegon thought he was better, riding on oh-so-great Sunfyre and his silver Targaryen hair. And who was Aemond to laugh at you! He didn't have a dragon either!
Here you were, deprived of Targaryen looks and dragonless. Tears rolled down your cheeks. Outside a roar echoed across the water. Wiping the remaining tears you opened the window. A gust of wind nearly blew you back. Bellow the sea surrounding Driftmark thundered, crashing against rocks. Far ahead was a great black lump, so dark that even against the sky it was easily seen. You would have thought it was Vhaegar except that Laena and Daemon were in Pentos. Beyond a stretch of sand were the dragon caves. If one exited the gaves and ran across the sand they could reach the dragons. Sunfyre and Dreamfyre were snoozing in their cave. Vermithor and Silverwing were back at Kingslanding. There were others, of course. You entertained the idea it might be Meyles until the dragon roared once more. It's screech was nothing like you had heard. It sounded like metal being scrapped together. Yet instead of being afraid, an idea came.
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Any sane person would have thought twice. Then again, Targaryens were not exactly known for their sanity. Waiting till the early morning, you slipped out. When the sun was just pocking over the horizon that Driftmark was quietest. The guards would be tired and few would be up. Down the halls you slunk, nearing the exit. There was a small side door leading to stairs. These stairs took one right down to the courtyard. Passing a pair of sleepy guards you slipped behind a pair of barrels. Now it was just down the steps. That was when you heard a noise.
A familiar drawl could be heard. Great. Aegon was awake. Quickly you ducked behind a pair of barrels by the door. He stumbled inside and right past you. "I should have kicked him." Once he was gone you looked left and right. Then came the hard part.
The court yard was empty. Not even your father Laenor would be out training. Beyond was the gate, with two guards standing sentry. If you could slip past them, and across the sand, then you could take a small passage that lead to the dragon cave.
It was down to luck. The guards would need to be distracted for long enough. Fortunately, there was luck on your side. The walls supporting the gate were made of stone. And they just so happened to be uneven pieces of stone. Meaning all you had to do was climb up. The guards were so focused on the other side that you could get up without being spotted. Small hands grasped the rocks and you climbed. It occurred to you at that moment wearing a nightgown was likely not a good idea. But it was too late to turn back.
The salty air whipped your hair. Reaching the top you had a view of the caves beyond. There were soldiers guarding but none were looking up. There were four you could see. And now that you had reached the top there was yet another problem. You had no plan other than wait and hope. It was poor planning strategy. Though in your defense you were ten. The sun was rising higher in the sky. Would you even be able to sneak out!?
"Change!" A call nearly caused you to jump up. Looking over the side you saw the guards marching away. Taking the chance you jumped down. The force in which your feet hit the ground made them sting. "Hey!" To your horror you saw guards rushing toward. Shit. Taking a deep breath you plucked up the courage and ran. Having a head start helped. But these were full grown men, and running in sand was hard. The only thing on your side was that they were covered in armor. It meant you were able to reach the dragon cave that remained unguarded. It was was left unguarded for a reason. Because none would ever dream of challenging The Cannibal. For a moment you looked at the dark passage, and then looked back. You could hear them calling out. "I've come this far." And with that, you headed in.
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The first few steps plunged you into pitch black. The air tasted stale and the rocks threatened to rip open your feet. Most dragon caves were well maintained, but even dragon-keepers would not dare go near this one. A few steps later and a few crack in the walls gave light. Step by step you walked forward. Now you could smell it and it nearly made you gag. But you had come so far that to turn back now was not an option. You heard a deep rumbling and stopped. Even the foundations of this cave seemed to hum. When the noise stopped you proceeded. Ahead you saw the tunnel end. Finally you met The Cannibal.
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Despite the dragons infamy few could describe it. In fact many did not survive such an encounter. And it was enormous. Only slightly smaller that Vhagar, The Cannibal turned his head and mad poisonous green eyes met yours. Dragon eyes had always fascinated you. They held this terrifying imperious gaze. But when you looked into The Cannibal's all you saw was a wild raging fire. You had heard of Wildfire, created by the lords of Old Valyria to mimic dragon fire. While you had never seen wild fire, you thought his eyes might be close enough. Dragon scales came in all colours, but black was rare. The only other dragon known to possess such a colour was Balerion the Black Dread. Smooth pitch black scales glistened in the sunlight. His great jaw had uncountable razor sharp teeth larger than you. The large tale swung around and The Cannibals body was facing you. Then he opened his mouth and fire curled at the throat.
"I will die." In that moment you felt fear and rage. You were as good as the rest of them. Why should you not have a dragon! “Dohaerās, Cannibal! Lykirī!” Those were the only words you could say. Something akin to fire swelled within you at that moment. A defiance bordering on madness. The fire in The Cannibal's seemed ready to burst forward. "Lykirī!" You thought those would be your last words. It was not fear you felt in that moment, but the desire to prove something "At least I tried, like a true Targaryen." The blast of white hot flame which would encase and disintegrate your body never came. Your eyes met his. The Cannibal was looking down at you with his imperious glance. Was he not going to burn you?
That was when you heard voices. It seemed the guards had decided to go in. Better to perish in dragon fire than whatever your mother might do to them for failing to protect her only daughter. Then you stepped forward. Now was not the time to be afraid. Already you had braved possible dragon fire. Over rock and bits of bone you stepped, ignoring the stinging in your feet. From The Cannibal was a ladder attached to a harness. "So The Cannibal once had a rider." At that moment you did not ponder too much. They said The Cannibal had never been ridden before. But since his very being was a mystery you supposed it was possible.
Scrambling up the rough ropes you desperately hurried to the top. "There she is! She's...she's on the dragon!" The Cannibal jerked back nearly sending you flying off. "Daor!" You ordered loud as possible. To your astonishment the dragon listened. Reaching the top you fastened the harness, securing you in place. The Cannibal seemed to know what you wanted, for the moment you were settled the dragon gave a great huff and speed down the corridor. Every jut of his muscle sent you roughly inching forward. "This is much more uncomfortable than I thought." You always imagined dragon riding as a smooth ride. But now you realized that was untrue. Then what would flying be like? You barely had any time to comprehend anything before sunlight was visible. The Cannibal then picked up speed. Suddenly The Cannibal launched into the air with a great jerk. Had you not been harnessed in you would have fallen. His leathery wing beat the air as the ground became smaller.
You would have smiled if it had not been for the fact your voice has disappeared. The thrill, terror and excitement nearly paralyzed you. The Cannibal was not going up smoothly. The dragon seemed to be doing his best in order to shake you off. Despite this the harness was well made, and thank the gods. You had just enough sense to seize the reins and pull at them. It did nothing to slow The Cannibal down but you were suddenly possessed with a renewal in courage. Sitting straight in your saddle there was suddenly a level of control you felt. The Cannibal must have felt it, for he leveled himself. Soaring above the clouds you finally looked down. "We really are close to the Gods." You muttered.
You flew several laps in the sky. It was less about commands and more about the connection between dragon and rider. You had to remain in control of your emotions. Not being used to dragon riding, your legs started to cramp. Deciding it was time to descend you ordered The Cannibal down. Surprisingly graceful, The Cannibal started to climb down. His cave became more clear. A crowd was gathering outside of the cave. You were not too surprised since they probably thought you dead. With a great thud The Cannibal landed sending sand into the air.
"Y/n!" You had never heard your mother scream like that. Practically leaping off the rope ladder you flew into your mothers arms. "Oh Gods Y/n!" Rhaenyra clutched you close with shaking arms. You mother who was usually so indomitable and strong was shaking and weeping. Her arms held you in a vise grip. "Y/n...never do that again!" Rhaenyra had broken apart, gripping you by the arms. Normally you would bust into tears and apologize. But a fire was ablaze in your chest was burning bright. Taking your mother by the hand you lead her to The Cannibal. Rhaenyra looked hesitant but seeing your determination encouraged her. Reaching out you placed a hand on The Cannibals warm scales. "Touch him." Rhaenyra's fingertips grazed the dragon. Then she steadied and placed her hand directly on the dragon. The Cannibal crooned and for the first time seemed something close to calm.
Looking back you saw your brothers, aunt and uncles. There was pride such as you had never seen on your brother's faces. Your eyes met Aegon's and Aemond's, for the first time you did not look away. This time it was them who looked away from your defiant eyes. You were Y/n Velaryon. Daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Rider of Cannibal. And fire dwelt within your veins like any blood of the dragon.
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waves-against-a-cliff · 5 months
Text
Sharing is Caring
Guys. Listen to me. Soap and Gaz sharing you.
Part two
Content Warnings - fmm, Anal, threesome, double penetration, multiple orgasms, tit slapping, rimming, oral (both m and f receiving), throat fucking, multiple positions.
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Soap and Gaz sharing you. At first it started out with just a friends with benefits situation with Gaz. A way for him to unwind after returning from deployment. He's fucked you ten ways to Sunday. Couch, counter, your bed, his bed, the shower, the fucking floor. If it's a flat surface, you've probably been fucked there.
And it's not like he's just taking. He gives, hell you're half convinced he gets off more to eating your ass then he does to any other kind of foreplay. You'd be fully convinced if he didn't loose some of his precious control and ends up lightly throat fucking you each time you give him a blow job.
He's had you screaming his name often and loud, he has scratches down his back and arms from making you tumble off the edge into another orgasm as his hips slam into yours. He's sweaty and panting, you're on the verge of passing out from sheer bliss yet you both know the night is far from over. He'll take you in missionary first, cowgirl next so he can grope at your breasts while you bounce on his cock. Then he'll have your face shoved into a pillow with your ass up high as he pounds your ass. You'll both go to the shower and it would take a miracle to keep him from getting on his knees to "clean you up proper dove".
Now how did Soap get involved? Well Soap was complaining about having trouble finding a new fwb after his last broke things off for a stable relationship. And who would Gaz be if he didn't offer his pretty little toy up? You've discussed a threesome with Gaz before, told him it was on the table. To just let you know when it would happen. So he texted you that a mate of his had some steam to blow off.
God, did Soap have some steam to blow off. Your hips had bruises the shapes of his fingers, your voice was hoarse from when he fucked your face. Groaning and throwing his head back as his hips bucked while you gagged and spit dripped down your chin. Gaz watched from his spot, lazily fisting his cock while he watched Soap utterly destroy your pussy and throat.
"God what a fuckin' whore." Soap growled as tears ran down your face and you looked up at him. "Takin' my cock down yer throat like it's yer job."
Gaz pulled you into his lap, spreading your legs open with his own to keep them open. "Clean her up mate. Not nice to leave her like this." Tears rolled down your cheeks as Soap ate you out like a starved beast. Constantly teasing and sucking on your clit between shoving his tongue into your soaked and ruined cunt. Gaz kept him there by gripping his mohawk, telling him to get it nice and ready for him. You nearly sobbed when you heard that.
He had you face down and ass up when Soap finally cleaned you up to his liking, your cheek rested on Soaps inner thigh as Gaz plowed your pussy first. Your nails dug into Soaps thighs as you moaned and screamed. Orgasm after orgasm pulled from you until you could not form a word, slurring their names. "Kyle- mph- Kyle Kyle Kyle- fuck."
You thought you were hallucinating when Gaz bent over you and pulled Soap into a sloppy kiss. When you finally tapped out after Gaz filled your pussy once and ass twice, you watched with blurry eyes as Soap whined and moaned while Gaz rimmed him. The ache between your legs growing little by little as you watched Soap and Gaz absolutely ruin each other. "Kyle! Oh fuck!" Soap whined as he fisted the sheets.
To be honest, you weren't sure how you ended up sandwiched between the two sweaty men as Soap fucked your ass in rhythm with Gaz who took your pussy. There was hardly a shortage of degrading or praise from either of them.
"Good whore." Soap growled as Gaz whispered "Pretty dove, taking us so well."
Soap developed a fascination with your tits and watching them bounce and redden with each slap to them.
By the end of the night, you had Soaps number in your phone and you were tucked into bed, thoroughly worn out. Soap and Gaz barely made it back to their flat before passing out themselves.
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