#'i wish you were fucking dead' 'i do too. all of this is my fault and i shouldve been smarter and realized that all of this would happen.
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luck-of-the-drawings · 1 year ago
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FOR A BEAT OF HEART, THE BREATH IS SHOT. AND WITHIN A BREATH, THE HEART IS CAUGHT. THE PIPES ARE BURSTING, UNDER GREAT STRESS, BOLTS TORN ASUNDER, MAKING A MESS. A FINAL COUGH, A FINAL RETCH, A GOREY SLOUGH, CLAIMED BY WRETCH.
#cw gore#jrwi riptide#jrwi riptide spoilers#chip jrwi#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#I LLOOOVE POETRYYY I LOVE MAKING WORDS RHYME IN STRANGE WAYS AND DESCRIBING VISCERA AND VIOLENCE OR WAHTEVER. YKNOW WHAT ELSE I LOVE#CHHHIIIIIIIBBOOOOO MY BEAUTIFUL MAAANN WWHAT. WHAT HAPPENED. OH MY GOD. IVE BEEN SAYING FOREVER. I NEEED CHIP TO GET SCARIER.#HE HAS THE POTENTIAL! I KNOW HE DOES! HAUNTED BOY WITH THE HAUNTED EYES WHAT TRAUMAS HAVE YOU SEEN? AND WERE THEY YOUR FAULT? THINK ABOUT I#EVERY FAMILY HAS CRUMBLED AROUND HIM. HIS BIRTH FAMILY CRUMBLED BEFORE HE KNEW IT. HIS SECOND FAMILY DROWNED. THIRD BURNED TO THE GROUND#AND SHALL THIS NEXT FAMILY JOIN THEM? CHIIIIP YOU UNFORTUNATE BOY YOU HAVE WITNESSED SO MUCH CALAMITY#YOU ARE CALAMITY BOYYY AHAHAHAHA DONT YOU SEEE!! ZOMBIFIED AND DEAD. TRUELY MORE HAUNTED THAN EVER BEFORE. THIS WILL BE FUN#THE FIRE HURTS WHEN IT BURNS TOO LONG. BUT NOW YOUR NERVES ARE DEAD AND YOUR MIND IS FREE. BURN THIS CORPSE AS YOU WISH TO GET WHAT YOU WAN#CHIP IS NOT THE FIRE HE IS THE MATCH. I LOVE THAT IDEA SO MUCH IM SO PROUD OF IT. OHHH AND CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE CORRUPTION#bizly mentioned that chip wants to be a good captain. in his most corrupted state however. he would be the BEST captain..#thAT DOESNT MEAn hes gonna just suddenly be all controlling. the BEST captain keeps his crew safe. keeps them together. keeps them alive.#and chip is doing just that! he doesnt need to stop being a good captain just bc of the corruption! he just needs to be the BEST CAPTAIN#AND THATS SUBJECTIVE BABY!! im so excited to see where chips zombie arc goes. neeeed him to get scarier and just a little more fucked up.#neEED HIM TO PERFORM ABHORANT ACTIONS THAT HAVE JAY N GILL GOING ' dude woah what the fuck...'#RIGHT I SHOULD TALK ABT MY ART TOO. this one took TOO LONGGGstarted out witha sketch how did it end up like this...#the heart and the blood KILLED ME. LOOK AT MY RENDERING LIKE HWAAATT#better not see any more mistakes after i post this.... i cant fight withit anymore....STILL RLY PROUD THO..#I WAnted to make it visually LOOK like the grossest vomiting sound possible#i want it to make your throat feel uncomfortable. am i achieving that? i hope i am. thats tubes dude!!! like cmahn!
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t4tdanvis · 1 year ago
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Garroth is more mild but it’s less because he wants to be reasonable about it and more because he knows Laurence is not handling anything at all and is lashing out at anything that moves.
He’s also mad at Dante but well. Aphmau’s dead, Zane’s probably going to come and wipe Phoenix Drop off the map, garroth’s probably going to get executed when that happens, annnd they’re just fucked, essentially. what’s the point in denying him food. Unless Aphmau comes back as a shadow knight and they can blackmail Gene into giving her to them not super fucked up, there’s literally no reason to make Dante physically suffer.
laurance: *yelling at dante constantly, blaming him for everything, denying him food, and more*
dante: *tries to run away and get himself killed on purpose*
laurance:
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incognit0slut · 5 months ago
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PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3| PART 4
Behind Closed Doors 4
Your frustration over his broken promise melts away as soon as he calls, and you find yourself unexpectedly drawn to his voice, more than you anticipated.
Warnings: (18+, MDNI) Phone sex, mutual (and guided) masturbation, dirty talk ~4.7k words
A/n: this is just me wishing he was on quinn😔 anyway enjoy part 4, this mini series is not dead (i don’t even know how long it will be but let’s just celebrate that I’m finally updating)
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All men do is lie, you thought as you flopped onto your bed.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault—but you weren’t in the mood to be reasonable. You remembered that car ride vividly. He had promised you more time together, a moment to finally be alone. Instead, what did you get? A new case, then another, and amidst all the chaos and dodging bullets (literally and metaphorically), you two somehow managed to drift apart.
The past few weeks had been the busiest since you started working at the BAU, and that was saying a lot, considering there was never really a moment of peace when you worked for the government. But this time was different, it seemed even more chaotic than usual. Every time you thought of bringing up the conversation with him—or maybe sneak in a little make-out session—something urgent would come up. 
There was never the right time, or the right moment. It felt as if the universe had other plans for you, and none of them involved the two of you getting a moment alone. And before you knew it, you were caught in this maddening cycle of missed opportunities, and the worst thing was, you were sexually frustrated.
This time, you had no one else to blame but him. Ever since he came into the picture, your carefully maintained self-control had started to slip, and now, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t ignore the growing need between your legs. It was aching, throbbing, and even the thought of him was making you hot and restless.
How did he manage to do that? He wasn’t even trying. There was nothing overtly seductive in the way he moved or spoke, and yet every glance, every accidental touch, seemed to affect you. Spencer. Just his name made your breath hitch, your body betraying you. You weren’t proud to admit this, but the mere thought of his fingers brushing your skin had you feeling that first rush of arousal slipping into your panties.
You huffed, considering digging out your pink silicone toy hidden somewhere in your drawer. And while you were contemplating this, knowing it had been a while since you last used it because nothing could compare to the feeling of his touch now, your phone on the bedside table rang.
Maybe the universe was really testing you, because his name flashed across the screen and it took a lot of self-control for you not to pick up on the first ring and demand him to fuck you right there and then, which sounded too crass when you weren’t in the middle of straddling his lap like the last time. So instead, you decided to wait until the sixth ring before you answered with a curt, “Hey.”
There was a pause, then a sigh. “You’re mad at me.”
Could he tell? Of course, he could. He always had an uncanny ability to read you, even over the phone. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”
“I can almost see you rolling your eyes.”
“I never roll my eyes,” you shot back.
“You rolled your eyes last week when Luke tried to tell us that his dog could sniff out bodies better than our trained ones.”
You suppressed a smile, surprised that he even noticed you giving Luke a once-over at that particular moment. “That was because his dog chases its tail more than it chases leads.”
"And I'm not worthy of an eye roll?"
“Honestly, you deserve more than an eye roll,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
"So you are mad,” he stated, growing quiet for a while. “I’m sorry.”
And now you felt bad. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to clear your thoughts. “It’s not your fault.”
“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel any less better.”
You felt a pang of guilt as you stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame him. Serial killers, unfortunately, didn’t come with a schedule, and now Spencer was already on his leave. You recalled the excitement in his voice when he told you about the seminars Emily had arranged for him to teach. He had spoken with an enthusiasm you hadn’t heard in a long time, his eyes practically lighting up every time he mentioned it.
How could you be upset about that?
"I'm not... mad.”
There was a slight teasing note in his voice as he replied, "Just annoyed then?"
You held back a smile. "Maybe a little."
“Anything I can do to help with that?” His voice softened through the phone. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”
Your thoughts immediately went to the sticky situation between your legs, and you felt a flush of embarrassment. Technically, he could help with that. But could you say that? Should you? 
"I don’t know, depends on what you have in mind,” you replied, trying to steer your mind away from the direction it was heading. There was a pause, a silence that hung in the air as he carefully considered his next words.
"I could… start by telling you how much I miss you?”
Now that, you didn’t expect. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Spencer had never really acknowledged his feelings with words when his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it out loud made the emotions between you feel undeniably real. It was as if his words shattered whatever platonic friendship the two of you had built over the past years.
Although you knew your friendship had fundamentally changed the moment he had you pinned on the desk that fine afternoon, it didn’t stop you from questioning about where you truly stood.
"You miss the idea of me," you corrected him, unable to resist yourself.
“You know that’s not true,” he replied gently.
“Do I?”
“Yes, you know me better than that,” he insisted. “You’re a great profiler, you can tell if I’m not being honest.”
A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, despite trying to stay mad at him. "You hate being profiled.”
"That was before I realized how useful your skills are in deciphering my feelings.”
“You know I’d rather you tell me how you feel.”
“I did, I miss you, and you chose not to believe me.”
Your cheeks actually ached from smiling too much. You couldn’t help but feel a warm, tingling sensation spread through you. “Fine,” you sighed, finally giving in. “I believe you.”
“And?”
You rolled onto your side. “And what?”
“Do you not miss my absence at work?”
“Well…”
“Well?” He prompted.
Now how could you tell him you missed more than just his presence? How could you admit that you missed the way he made you feel, the way his breath felt hot against your skin, without sounding obvious or too needy? Because you missed everything about him. His hands, his lips, his tongue—oh dear god, his tongue.
Spencer suddenly called out your name, and you forced yourself to focus, feeling your heartbeat quicken as you cleared your throat.
“Yes, I—I miss you,” you finally admitted.
There was a pause, then his voice came through, lighter, teasing. “Why do you sound like that?”
“…like what?”
“Like you’re out of breath.”
You gripped the sheets tightly, the fabric bunching under your fingers. How could you even begin to explain this to him now that he was onto you? You felt like you were on the verge of a full-blown emotional meltdown. God, if he knew how many times you’d replayed every kiss, every touch, in your mind, he’d never let you live it down.
It was almost laughable, really. Here you were, trying to keep it together, and failing miserably. “It’s just… I really, really miss you.”
“You really miss me? Are you trying to say something?”
You hesitated, your mind scrambling for the right words without revealing too much. “No…?”
“Mhm,” he replied, clearly unconvinced. “You’re not telling me everything.”
You gripped the phone tighter. “I’m just saying... It's hard without you here. You know, in every way.”
“In every way?”
You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling both embarrassed and mortified. “I just... I miss how you make me feel. Physically.”
“Physically?” he pressed. “Can you elaborate?”
“I’m... you know, I’ve been... missing certain things. Certain... activities.”
“Certain activities,” he repeated your words once again. It was then that you realized he was teasing you, clearly enjoying your discomfort a little too much. “You mean like... talking?”
“No. More like... the other stuff we do when we’re alone.”
"I don't understand."
At that point, your embarrassment was gnawing at you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. “God, Spencer, don’t make me say it,” you groaned, burying your face in your pillow.
“Come on, I need a little more than that.” He sounded both amused and curious. “I’m just making sure I understand you right.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you muttered into the pillow, your voice muffled but still clear enough for him to hear.
“Actually, I don’t think I do. You could be missing so many things, you have to help me out here.”
You turned your head to the side, exasperation coloring your tone. “Spencer…”
"Yes?" he responded innocently.
"You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
"I find precise communication to be very important.”
You let out a groan, feeling the last of your restraint crumble. “Alright! Fine!” you snapped. “I’m horny, okay? And it’s all your fault!”
His laughter rang through the phone, and you could almost see the grin spreading across his face. “My fault?"
"Yes! I feel like a deprived, horny teenager here, and I just…”
You trailed off, hardly believing you had actually said that out loud. The realization hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you wished you could take it back. There was a pause that seemed to stretch on forever and you wondered if you had gone too far.
He finally broke the silence, breathing out your name in a way that made your skin tingle. "You could've told me from the start."
You could, but you’d rather not.
"I didn't want to sound desperate."
"You can be desperate with me,” he said softly. “Just say the word and I’ll give you anything you want.”
If there was one thing Spencer was good at, it was getting under your skin. He really shouldn’t be saying those words, not now, not when it was making you crave him even more. You swallowed, feeling a tightness in your chest, a knot in your stomach. The part of you that always played it safe wanted to retract, to laugh it off as a joke. But then there was that other part, the part that craved his attention, the part that was tired of holding back.
“Tell me, what do you want now?”
You took a deep breath and laid on your back, the words catching in your throat. You felt your pulse quicken.
“I want… you.”
“Tell me how you want me.”
Your fingers trailed over the sheets, your touch light as you imagined it was him beneath your fingertips. “Spencer…”
“Come on,” he pressed. “Tell me.”
You paused, your heart pounding in your chest. You could almost imagine him right in front of you, staring at you with those beautiful brown eyes that always managed to make you melt, coaxing words from you that you barely dared to think, let alone speak.
Just say it. He's waiting. He wants to hear it.
Your hand began to move.
“I… I want your hands on me.”
“Where do you want my hands?”
“Everywhere,” you whispered, your fingers grazing your body as if they were his. You closed your eyes.
“Everywhere?”
You found yourself nodding even though he couldn’t see you.
“On my hips…”
Your hand danced across your hips.
“My stomach…”
Your palm slipped under your shirt, moving slowly up your abdomen, feeling the warmth of your own touch and wishing it was his.
“Between my thighs…”
You paused at the hem of your panties, the only barrier beneath your shirt, hesitating as a flush of warmth spread through you. The line was silent for a moment, save for the sound of his breathing—a soft, heavy rhythm that matched the pounding of your own heart.
“Where else do you want me?”
Your fingers dipped inside the fabric. “I want you lower…”
“Tell me exactly where.”
“Where I’m most sensitive,” you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them.  Your thighs instinctively squeezed together, hips rolling gently as your free hand began to drift south. “Spencer… please…”
“Are you touching yourself?”
“I…”
“Are you?”
“No…”
“Do you want to touch yourself?”
You licked your lips, your breath coming faster. “Maybe.”
“Then do it, no one’s stopping you.”
You hesitated, the reality of the situation sinking in. You couldn’t believe this was happening, that you were having this conversation with him. "This feels so naughty.”
"Naughty can be nice, though, right?" he assured you. "Don't think about it too much. It’s just you and me.”
There really was something about his voice, the way it effortlessly wrapped around you—smooth, coaxing, almost hypnotic. Despite the hesitation that tugged at your mind, your hand began to move lower, and your legs parting involuntarily. A soft gasp escaped your lips when your hand flew right to your pussy, fingers quickly tracing the length of your folds. You were already wet, and you began to spread your arousal towards your clit.
“Spencer…” you whined, feeling the sudden rush of sensations.
“Keep going,” he urged. “Tell me what you feel.”
You closed your eyes. “It feels… good…”
“Describe it to me.”
You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words through the haze of pleasure. “It’s warm and wet… and…”
And you wished he was the one touching you.
You let your mind drift to your fantasy. You imagined it was his fingers circling your clit. You imagined his lips against yours, the way they would move together. You imagined him whispering these words right in front of you, his eyes locked on yours as you writhed beneath him. The fantasy felt so vivid that for a moment, you could almost feel his weight pressing down on you, his presence enveloping you completely.
Your imagination urged you to move faster, but you felt limited by the fabric in the way. You called out his name. “Can I… can I take my, um, underwear off?”
You could almost hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “Of course you can.”
You put your phone down, and with trembling fingers, you slid the fabric down your legs. You discarded them quickly and turned the call to speaker before you settled back on the bed. Your hand returned to your body, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin. You parted your legs even wider, and as your fingers found their rhythm, a moan escaped you.
“Better?”
You sighed in relief as you continued to rub your clit. “So much better.”
“Keep it slow, okay? We don’t want to rush.”
His voice was low and soothing, and you couldn’t believe how just by his voice he had gotten you so worked up.
“Now press a little harder.” You complied, applying a bit more pressure on your clit. "Right there. Do you feel that?"
"Yes," you gasped, your back slightly arching off the bed.
“I wish I could see you right now," he murmured. “I'd kiss you where you're touching.”
You let your imagination take over. You pictured him with his head right between your thighs, his eyes locked on yours with those intense, pretty eyes. You imagined his mouth moving over your clit, sucking gently while his fingers explored between your folds. The thought was so vivid, so real, that you could almost feel his warm breath against your skin.
The mental image of him looking up at you was almost too much to bear. “Spencer…”
"Keep going. Are your fingers wet?" You could simply moan back a reply, not trusting your own voice. “Now slowly slide in one. Can you do that for me?”
You did as he said, sliding a finger into your wetness. You could feel how tight you were, the slick warmth of your arousal enveloping your skin. You looked down between your legs and watched as you pleased yourself. It wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar sight. You had done this countless times before, but never with the voice of a man guiding you, especially Spencer—the last person you’d imagine doing this with.
Yet look at how much effect he had on you.
"You're quiet," his voice suddenly came through. "Are you still with me?"
"Yes," you managed to whisper. "It's just... a lot."
"In a good way, I hope?"
“Very good,” you assured him.
You could practically picture the corner of his lips twitching into a proud smile. “Good,” he recited. “Now try adding another finger.”
You couldn't help a moan escaping your lips as you pushed in your middle finger, the sound louder than you intended.
"How does that feel?"
"Full," you breathed out, adjusting to the sensation.
“Yeah? I bet you’re so tight.”
You were, awfully so. Your walls clenched around your fingers, almost swallowing them as you started to move them in a steady rhythm. The pleasure built in your lower stomach, a warm, coiling tension that made you desperate for more. You needed his voice, you craved his guidance, even from afar.
“Spence…” you whined. “Keep talking, please.”
“You want me to describe how I’d touch you if I were there?”
You moaned in response, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily, urging him to continue.
“If I were there,” he began, his voice low, “I’d start by kissing you slowly.”
You could almost feel it, his lips on yours, his tongue probing inside your mouth.
“I’d move lower,” he continued. “Kiss your neck, your collarbone… while my fingers would move along your hips, your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you need me most.”
You whimpered, your fingers moving faster as you followed his vivid description, imagining his touch guiding you.
“I’d tease you, brush my fingers right at your entrance,” he whispered. “Then, I’d slip them inside you, just like you’re doing now.”
Your breaths came in short gasps.
“I’d spread your legs wide,” he continued again, and you heard a faint rustling noise in the background. “I’d move my fingers in… and… out...”
Your legs fell further apart.
“I’d curl my fingers the same way I did that day,” he went on. “Do you remember?”
How could you not? It never truly left your mind. You could picture that day clearly, the feeling of his fingers and mouth working on your sensitive spot seemed to linger in your memory.
“I’d do the same thing that you like,” he proceeded, and you focused on his voice. “I’d lean in close… licking you… sucking you.”
You moaned loudly as the image of his mouth on your clit flashed through your mind. You could almost feel the way he would sloppily lap at you, drinking in every drop of your arousal with each eager flick of his tongue.
“Go faster for me,” he urged. “I-I want to hear how wet you are.”
You followed his words, and the slick sounds of your arousal filled the quiet around you as you imagined him there, his fingers replacing yours. You could hear more noise through the line, the subtle rustle of clothes moving, the faint sound of his breathing growing heavier before he let out a low grunt.
“You make the prettiest sounds,” he breathed out. “Now add another finger.”
Your eyes narrowed into a frown, trying to slip a third finger in but the stretch was too intense for you to continue. “I-I can’t.”
“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed. “Just take it slow. Try to relax.”
You took a deep breath, trying to follow his instructions. You slowly eased in another finger, feeling the awkward stretch but the initial discomfort quickly faded into a deeper pleasure, and you moaned softly.
“Oh, fuck.”
“There you go,” he encouraged. “Feel that? Feel how full you are?”
You hummed a reply.
“That’s how I want you to feel when I’m finally inside you.”
A whine left your lips. In your head, you saw him, his body poised above yours, his cock sliding smoothly into you. You imagined the slick, rhythmic motion, the way each thrust would fill you, stretching you, overwhelming you. You cried out a filthy moan at the thought, unabashed and desperate, as you began to pump your fingers inside your cunt.
“Push deeper for me… I know you can take it.”
You gasped, pushing your fingers as deep as they could go. “I can’t… I need… oh…”
“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You need more. You need me inside you, don’t you?”
“Spencer, please…” you begged, your voice breaking into desperate, choked sobs.
“You want that? You want to feel me stretch you?”
“Yes, yes…” you managed to moan out, your movements became more desperate.
“God, you’d be so tight around me… I’d have your legs spread wide so I… I-I could see how perfect you’d take me.”
You could almost feel his hands on your hips, his body pressing against yours, filling you completely. Your fingers moved frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you felt the tension building to an unbearable peak.
“You’d pull me closer, wouldn’t you? You’d ask for more, like you always do, and I’d give it to you,” he promised. “I’d give it to you so hard… s-so deep…”
And that was when you heard it—the unmistakable sound of wetness, like skin sliding over slick, damp skin. The sound was filthy, making your pulse race as you wondered what he might be doing on the other end of the line. Your voice trembled as you slowly asked him, “Spence, are you…?”
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end before he let out a soft, almost sheepish laugh, as if you had caught him red-handed. “I… yeah,” he admitted, his voice breathless and strained. "Do you know how hard it is not to when listening to your voice?"
Your fingers subconsciously quickened at his confession, their movements becoming more urgent as you imagined him laying on his own bed, hand wrapped around his cock. You bit your lip to stifle your moans as you whispered, “Tell me what you’re doing.”
His breathing grew ragged, his words coming in clipped bursts. “I’m… I’m touching myself…”
You tried to focus on his voice, but the sound of his sloppy strokes began to echo louder. “Tell me more.”
“I’m… I’m rubbing… my fingers over the head,” he gasped, and you curled your fingers deeper, using your palm to grind against your clit. The way he sounded so lost in his pleasure, unable to hold back, had you imagining him stroking himself. You pictured yourself doing it for him, remembering how it felt that day when you had his cock in your hand—the weight, the warmth, the way he looked at you through intense eyes.
Your breathing grew heavier, louder, and his voice cracked with a strained moan as he whispered, “Can you lower your phone?”
You fumbled with the device, bringing it closer to where your fingers worked tirelessly between your legs. “Like this?”
“God, yes,” he groaned, the sound of his strokes growing faster and more urgent. “You sound so perfect.”
You let out a soft cry, your fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt frantically as you imagined him watching you, listening to every sound you made. The wet, slick noises filled the room, so intense and filthy. You looked down to see your juices spilling over your fingers, soaking the sheets beneath you. The sheer sound of it was enough to drive him crazy.
“I—f-faster, please,” he panted into the phone. “I need you to go faster.”
Your eyes widened for a moment as the desperate plea slipped from his lips. But you didn’t have the mental space to think about it. Your focus was solely on reaching your release as you ultimately sped up your pace. Your body began to tighten up, feeling so much pressure and pleasure building up every time your fingertips hit that deep spot inside you.
"Oh—fuck!” You exhaled sharply as the familiar sensation took over you. “I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m cumming—”
With a cry that was both a sob and a shout, your pussy fluttered around your fingers. Your orgasm ripped through you without warning, sending shockwaves of intense pleasure through your body as you gasped and shuddered. Your voice escaped in broken moans and whines, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.
“Spencer… oh, God, Spencer…”
The sound of your climax drove him to his own release. His breath hitched, his movements faltering as he let out a harsh sound from his throat. It was raw and unrestrained, downright filthy, and you listened intently, your fingers slipping out only to circle and rub your clit, drawing out the final waves of your orgasm.
Finally, when you couldn’t take it anymore, your hand fell away, and you lay there, breathing heavily, your body relaxing into the bed. Your room was quiet afterward, the only sound coming from was the sound of your own breathing. Then you heard him calling out your name, checking in. But through the post-orgasmic bliss, all you could manage in response was a giggle.
“You’re… laughing?” He mused. “Should I be concerned?”
“No, no,” you replied, still catching your breath, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. “It’s just… I can’t believe we did that.”
A gentle laugh escaped his lips, a warm, soothing sound that calmed your racing heart. "Did you like it?"
You liked it a lot. "Can’t say that I didn’t.”
"So I take it you're not mad at me anymore?"
You let out a soft, contented sigh. “I wasn’t even that mad to begin with. Just… frustrated,” you confessed. “But I think we handled that pretty well.”
“Maybe a little too well,” he agreed softly. “I can't believe I need to take a shower this late.”
You looked down between your legs at his words, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you as you noticed the patch of wetness on your bed. It wasn't small—it spread across the fabric in a noticeable, damp stain. “Uh, yeah,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “I also need to change my sheets.”
Then you heard a low, almost pained groan from his end of the line.
“What?”
“It’s just…” He paused, and you could almost hear him struggling to find the right words. "I'm now picturing you on your bed."
"Isn't that what you've been doing?"
"Well, yes, but now it's… different."
You couldn't help the amused grin that spread across your face. "Different how?"
"Let's just say the image in my mind is a lot more detailed now and it's not helping me calm down."
A burst of laughter erupted from your chest as you gripped your phone closer to you. “Is this your way of blaming me because you still have a hard-on?” you taunted. “I mean, I’m simply stating the facts.”
“But you’re painting a picture in my head.”
“Of me drenching the sheets just by hearing your voice?”
He made a low, strained sound. “Stop.”
“I can send you a picture if you like,” you offered slyly. “Help you visualize it better.”
There was a moment of stunned silence on his end before he finally muttered, “You shouldn’t.”
“You’re right, I shouldn’t.”
“But if you insist…”
You laughed softly. “Good night, Spencer.”
“Wait—You’re hanging up?”
“Yep,” you said cheerfully. “I thought you needed a shower.”
He made another frustrated sound, somewhere between a groan and a sigh, before reluctantly agreeing. “Fine, fine. Good night.”
And that was it. You ended the call with a satisfied smile. But as you stared at your phone, a rush of thoughts began to swirl through your mind. You were well aware of the potential risks of what you were about to do—how it could be traced back to you. You could almost hear Penelope lecturing you about online security and the dangers of leaving a digital footprint.
But when your mind kept circling back to Spencer—Spencer’s breathless voice, Spencer’s prominent veins on his hands, Spencer with a freaking hard-on in his bed—it was hard to think rationally. Before you could stop yourself, you propped your phone on your pillow and posed for the camera. Legs spread wide, your nipples pressing against your shirt, a flirtatious smile playing on your lips. The shot looked like it came out of a porno movie. You quickly sent it to him.
It took exactly 7 seconds before your phone rang again.
“Yes, Spencer?” you answered, trying to sound innocent.
You heard shuffling and a muffled grunt, and then, faintly, the rustling of fabric. It sounded like he was fumbling with his phone, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the frustration in his voice.
“How do I turn this into video call again?”
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v1rtualsalvat10n · 17 days ago
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𓆩♡𓆪 how to tell you goodbye
— weeks after his mysterious disappearance, lu shows up at your door with a message for you.
notes :: TW FOR DUBCON. uh yeah I find the idea of him apologizing for doing what he has to do very hot. f!reader sorry guys this is self indulgent
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You don't remember how long it's been.
But you know it'd been long enough for you to stop wondering if he was actually coming back or not, and try to cope with that fact. He was gone - there was very little doubt in your mind about that. He'd stopped responding to calls and messages, his socials went cold, his friends, at least the ones you knew, hadn't heard anything either.
He disappeared. And the last thing you ever heard from him was that he was planning on doing something... real. But he never told you what. He could be dead for all you know, and there was nothing you could do about it.
It took a pretty big toll on you. He was one of the few friends you had, and just like that he was gone. Just when things were looking up for you, your support system just had to vanish into thin air. You missed him, fuck, you missed him more than anything. You missed your little coffee shop dates, the weekend parties, playing games in your apartment when it was lonely, sitting in the park together just talking for hours.
You miss those little looks he gave you when he thought you weren't looking, the way that some of your mannerisms made him smile, the nights where your conversations would get real and you'd cry on his shoulder when it was too much for you. You miss how he'd let you.
You missed the moment when he made you look at him, and wiped your tears with his thumb, letting the tension between you two linger for longer than it should. You missed his warm, shaky breath against your cheek. But you missed the most that moment when you felt his lips on yours, just for that few seconds.
You didn't miss the way he seemed to have regretted it after.
But you remembered that the clearest of all... watching the guilt in his eyes set in as he moved away from you, standing from your couch and rushing for his bags, saying that "it was getting late" or some lie like that. You remembered how he didn't even look back at you as he walked out of your door.
And that was the last day you saw him. He texted you the next morning.
"Hey, I probably won't be able to see you for a while. Working on stuff. Gonna do something real with my life."
What the fuck did that even mean? It made you angry, irrationally so. It probably only made you angry because you thought it was your fault. But god dammit, that felt valid! You felt like you had a fair reason to be pissed. It was no secret you liked him - it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out either! He'd do something like that so carelessly, and then just throw you out?
You hated it. Maybe you'd feel better with an explanation, but the truth of the matter is that he kissed you and then mysteriously disappeared, not to be seen again. And how were you not supposed to make assumptions in that situation?
And so you'd spend your days by yourself. With no more Luigi to rely on to keep you from spiraling, you'd been curled up in your room by yourself, scrolling through his social media posts, rereading your message logs to see if there's something you'd missed.
You had a jacket of his he left at your place, and every night you'd wrap a pillow in it and breathe in the mix of cologne and his natural scent until it lulled you to sleep.
It wasn't enough. You wish he'd come back, but even if he did, what was there to say? Even if he apologized, you didn't know that you'd forgive him.
That is, until he actually did come back.
No, surely that was just wishful thinking - that knock was probably a salesman or someone stupid like that coming to bother you. You dragged yourself up from your bed and slowly approached the door, groaning to yourself before putting on a fake smile to answer it.
And sure enough, there he was. Cold and scruffy looking, his clothes ruffled and his hair matted, bags under his eyes. He pushed you inside, and slammed the door behind himself.
He kissed you again. But this time he didn't hesitate, and he wasn't gentle - he threw himself onto you, your lips messily colliding with his as he leaned into it, diving his tongue into your mouth. His hands slid down to your hips, grabbing the waistband of your sweatpants so tight it was like he might fall off the Earth if he let go.
The kiss was sloppy and desperate, and he hungrily pushed it as far as you'd let it go, which was admittedly pretty far. But then the shock faded, and you pressed your hands to his chest, shoving him back. He was weak enough that he fell back into the door, leaning against it to prevent from fully toppling over.
"What the fuck?!"
You'd never yelled at him before. Never even thought about getting upset with him. His face turned fearful, as he steadied himself and tried to walk forwards again. You took a step back for the one he took forwards.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Who do you think you are, fucking with me like this?!"
His expression shifted. He just stared at you, blankly, either too tired or too numb to show any emotion anymore. And fuck, that only made you angrier. "You think this is funny? I was worried you could be dead, and now you just- show up, months later, looking like this? Why didn't you say something? You just- just-"
"I'll explain everything. Just... I really... missed you."
"Yeah? You didn't miss me enough to at least give me a heads up that you were alive!" You hid your face in your hands, sighing deeply trying to contain yourself. What reasonable explanation could there possibly be? You couldn't reason with him surely.
You hear him step forwards, and he places his hands on your hips again. You reach down to pull him off of you, but the moment you move your hands away from your face, he's pressing more kisses to your lips. He holds you tighter, his arms wrapping around you. "Get off me," you growl, but he doesn't listen.
He kisses your neck, his warm breath shaking profusely. "Luigi," you say, and he can't even look up at you. You yank one of his hands off, only for him to put it back on you with more force than the last time. "I said get off!"
"Let me make it up to you," he begs you, his gaze meeting yours as he walked you forwards, pushing you onto the couch. You try to stand, but he's quicker, and he straddles you, hovering over you and pushing you down by your shoulders. He stops looking you in the eyes, too embarrassed at what he was doing.
"Luigi, stop! I'm trying to talk to you, god dammit!" He doesn't listen. He can't. He's already straining his jeans, grinding his hips into yours. It's warm. He's warm, and fuck, you can't lie to yourself. You missed this feeling. You missed the feeling of something real being there with you. You missed him.
Your body betrays you, and you softly rock your hips forwards into his, swearing under your breath. He smiles softly, cupping one of your hips in his hand. "It's okay. I know you missed this." He looked at you, a weird sincerity in his eyes, considering what he was actually doing.
"I'm not messing around. This- this isn't funny. Let go of me." At some point you had stopped struggling without noticing, and you squirmed again, causing him to push more of his weight down onto you. He spoke softly to you. "Shh, it's okay... It's okay, I promise I won't take long. Promise, promise."
He muttered some words in Italian, something that sounded along the lines of a prayer as he rutted into you, yanking your hips up to get more friction. "Stop it," you say again, covering your face with one of your hands.
The truth is that you'd dreamed of this moment for so long. So very long. You'd dreamed of what it would feel like when he finally touched you, his skin on yours, giving you all he had to give. But fuck, not like this, not like this-
He finished with whatever he was reciting, and slipped his fingers under your waistband, along with the one of your panties and tugged them down. You pressed your thighs together, but he was stronger than you and pushed them apart, leaving you exposed for him.
"You're beautiful..." He stared down at you, leaving a crimson shade on your cheeks. "I'm sorry, I just... I felt like I had to tell you goodbye." Your eyes widened as he said that, and you shook your head. "What are you talking about? Luigi, I'm not going anywhere. You're not going anywhere either. You don't have to do this, please-"
By the time you finished, he was already unbuckling his belt, the sound of the buckle clinking against itself making you shiver. He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, rubbing himself against your folds. He was big. Bigger than you expected. Big enough that it looked like this might leave you sore.
You tried to scoot back, but he reached for you and pulled you closer than you were before, gasping at the feeling of your wetness against his cock. He'd longed for this forever, maybe even since the moment he'd first laid eyes on you. It felt like heaven to him, despite how dirty he felt - despite the fact that he knew it was wrong.
Something about you looking down on him for this only made him harder.
He lined himself up with your entrance and parted you with just his tip, his nails sinking into your hips as he did. "Fuck," he whimpered, "I'm so sorry, amore."
And with that, he slid into you slowly. You sighed in relief, only to cry out when he was so overwhelmed by pleasure that he slammed himself into you as deep as he could manage, rolling his hips into you.
Fuck. You could feel him pressing against your cervix. His breath shook as he panted heavily, shutting his eyes tightly as he pulled out nearly all the way, only to slam back into you. He swore, leaving bruises on your sides from how hard he was holding you. It hurt but you didn't care.
He kept up this brutal force, moving all the way out just so he could thrust deep into you again. It took him a while to speed up just because he was so overstimulated by it. But when he did, he fucked you like a wild animal, slamming his hips into yours, the obscene sound of his skin hitting yours filling your apartment.
You looked up at him, who still had his eyes closed out of shame. You couldn't help but imagine what he saw behind his eyelids, what he was imagining as he fucked you in earnest. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he fought against them. "I'm sorry," he muttered, over and over again. He couldn't stop apologizing.
"It's- it's okay, it's okay... fuck-! I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you... oh god..."
That was too much for him. Your acceptance, that unconditional love of yours, the fact that he could do this, and you would still understand, pushed him over, and tears streamed down his cheeks.
His hands frantically slid up your sides as he leaned down onto you, both your chests pressed together, getting as much of his skin on yours as possible. He ran his fingers up and down you, committing every hill and valley to memory. "I'm sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you. I promise you. I promise."
He kept mindlessly apologizing as he used you, controlled by his own need. There was no stopping him now, and you didn't want to. He was beautiful even like this, even at his lowest point. You knew that you loved him in this moment.
"I'm gonna cum, please, please... I'm sorry, I need it, please, baby-" He kept babbling through his tears, which fell onto your cheeks. You closed your eyes softly, leaning into his touch, pressing your lips to his.
He devoured you in an instant, the kiss deeper than before, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared his release. "Perdonami, ti prego," he begged, speaking inbetween breaths.
"Lu," you cooed. "Go ahead. It's alright."
As soon as you commanded him, his eyes shot open and he threw his head back as he rammed into your cervix, spilling himself deep inside of you, his body shaking as he did. You tightened around him, the feeling of him finally letting himself go enough to make you cum too, as you called out his name.
He stayed tensed up over you for a moment, his arms struggling to hold his weight as his eyes shut, and he collapsed on top of you, his face in your chest. He started to sob, gripping you tight, one of his hands going down to entangle with yours. "I'm so sorry, amore," he repeated, over and over, "I'm sorry"s falling from his lips.
You pressed him closer, free hand stroking his hair softly as he crumbled in your arms. "It's okay. I forgive you."
"Please don't hold it against me."
"We'll figure it out, okay, Lu? We'll figure it out, together. Me and you. Because I love you."
"I love you too.... No matter what happens, remember that I love you."
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teencopandthesourwolf · 1 year ago
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He freezes. Doesn't know what the hell else to do. 
He can't picture it: Derek can't remember the last time somebody put their arms around him. 
Was it Laura?
Of course it was Laura. How could he forget that? Derek has gotten pretty good at blocking things out—a little too good, it seems.
She didn't tell him anything before leaving New York. Didn't say a fucking word, just up and vanished. Derek had woken up one morning and she was gone, because she'd known without a shadow of a doubt that Derek would've only followed her if she'd have said a single word to him.
Nobody ever granted Derek’s wishes, no matter who he prayed to. Those desperate pleas where he asked to go back and get a chance to fix things, they all went unheard.
Laura left to go back to the place they both wished still existed just as it had; a place they were wanted alive, not dead. It wasn't fair that it was the very same place they would be hunted down if they did return, like the rabid animals the Argent's presumed they were.
Leaving the way they did meant they hadn't gotten the chance to see if anything was left at the house. They couldn't even mark graves, and grieve properly. 
That same place also happened to be the place they'd been born, the place they'd grown up and called home.
Derek had never wanted Laura to face all of that alone.
The burnt down house. The nothing where there was once everything.
The thought still haunts him. One of so many. 
Beacon Hills is home—but it's the home Derek had helped raze to the ground with his selfishness and stupidity. Everything he and Laura had ever known, everyone they'd ever loved, it was all gone, now. Derek had taken those things away from his sister and hadn't even had the guts to tell her. Tell Laura they were all gone because of him, tell her that everything that had happened to their family, to them, was all his fault.
In the aftermath of the fire Laura hugged Derek, and had kept hugging him, over and over in those weeks and months and years that followed. She would pull him into her arms hold him tight, whenever she could sense it was all getting to be too much for him again.
Alpha.
Big sister.
But Laura only knew about some of the reasons why it sometimes felt like too much effort for Derek to keep on breathing.
He never told her about Kate.
And Derek, the fucking coward, he'd allowed Laura to hold him, feeling the flames of shame on his cheeks every time, hot as those that took the lives of his parents. His family. His pack. 
Now, he remembers that last time. 
“I'm going out.” 
Laura stood up, walked around the two mismatched armchairs and stopped him by throwing both her arms around his neck, pulling him into her and hugging him, scenting him. 
It always took him a moment to respond these days, but Derek hugged her back. 
“What's this for?”
“You. Because I know whomever's bed you end up in tonight, you won't be asking for one of these.”
Oh, fuck no. Derek couldn't handle that. Did she think he was out sleeping with people? Never again, not after…
He pushed his sister off him, gently; a stark contrast to the harsh words that followed. 
“Don't fucking coddle me. And fuck you, Laura—I don't sleep in anybody's bed but my own.” A single mattress on the floor of the lounge of their shitty one bedroom apartment. Derek had so many shameful memories, and crawling into his sister's bed every night for the first year after the fire was one of them. “Just—leave me alone.”
Laura was the one—the only—person Derek had left in the entire world, yet his guilt was constantly pushing her away. 
“Where do you go to, little brother? You might not be clinging to me anymore, night after night, nightmare after nightmare, but you're rarely in your own bed most mornings.”
She hadn't meant it as a dig. Derek knew that. She was his sister, and she loved him.
Maybe she thought he was making progress? Seeing people. Moving on.
Derek spent his nights waiting outside of dive bars, and hanging around in back alleys and dark places, desperate to find scumbags to taunt who were big enough and hard enough to at least attempt to kick the living shit out of him.
Derek hated being a werewolf, now. He wanted to get hurt and stay hurt.
“Just—out.”
Then Derek turned his back on Laura, leaving her to stand there and watch him walk away as he left her to go out looking for a fight, without looking back. 
That was the last time somebody put their arms around Derek—and the last time he saw his sister alive.
It was two years ago. Derek doesn’t think he has taken a full breath, since. 
Now here he is—standing in his stupid big loft that he bought for his betas, yet another pack he managed to destroy—having given away more than he should, with skinny yet strong arms wrapping as far around his shoulders as they'll reach. 
Stiles.
“You don't have to hug back. But you can, if you want to. I won't tell,” the kid jokes. It's his way to connect, his connection to the world. A coping mechanism, Derek thinks.
He knows all about those.
“I…” he doesn't have the first fucking clue of how to handle this. Or how to admit he needs it—to himself, let alone somebody else. He doesn't know how to admit that he wants it. 
But this is Stiles. The one person in Derek's life who seems, for some unfathomable reason, to give a fuck about Derek. To care about him.
Slowly, very slowly, Derek lifts an arm and awkwardly rests a hand on Stiles's upper back, feels the muscles jump slightly under the kid's baggy clothes as he tentatively spreads his fingers and finds the back of Stiles's neck. 
Stiles's voice hitches just a touch as he says, “These can be on tap, you know. If you want them. Stilinski hugs are the best hugs, dude. Believe.”
And Derek finds he does believe. For the first time in forever, Derek believes there could be something good in his life again.
More confidently, now, he brings his other arm up to wrap around Stiles's waist and hugs Stiles tighter, properly, and allows himself to be hugged back.
Derek wonders how he has gone so long without this kind of closeness. Lived without this kindness.
He decides to let the 'dude' pass. Because maybe—maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, to be somebody's dude? 
Stiles's dude.
It's a fucking ridiculous moniker and yet Derek suddenly couldn't care less. 
“I think I'd like that,” he whispers into the forbidden place where Stiles's jaw meets long, pale neck. "Dude."
Derek can feel Stiles's smile as the kid squeezes him harder. And, ironically, Derek feels as if he can breathe again. 
.
for @greyhavenisback bc i want to hug you in person and can't <3 (unedited, forgive me!)
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bahrtofane · 11 months ago
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here we go again - pt.1
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pt. 2 , pt.3
jude x fem!reader , trent x fem!reader
empty promise after another leaves you walking in the cold. alone. on valentines day. youre never speaking to another player again.
word count : 1K+
watch it : mild fluff, heavy on the angst, situationships, toxic relationships, Jude is kinda an ass in this one sorry, not very happy ending
happy valentines day LOL
—--
you and Jude have a complex history, complex relationship. 
you aren't officially together but at the same time you are exclusive. it's odd, but it's what works at the moment, (even if you wish he would just grow the balls to make you his already.)
you get he's a busy guy, top player both club and international. you aren't going to force him to choose you or make him get with you while his career is soon about to peak. 
your wishes for more soon fade into the background as he presses gentle kisses into your skin. he called you a few hours prior, wondering if you wanted to keep him company while he binges movies and orders you a pizza. you said yes, maybe a little foolishly. but it's hard to stay away from him. 
he's addicting. maybe it's a rush of being with someone whose whole existence is so grand. maybe it's the fact of knowing you have what millions of others crave for. you don't know, you try not to read into the intricacies. bad habit. 
so here you are, face pressed up against his chest while you lay side by side on this stupidly large couch, action movie playing, your pizza done, belly full and body warm. 
"what are you thinking about love?" he mumbles. 
"you." you shrug.
"me ?" he chuckles. 
you hum, wiggling deeper into the pile of blankets. 
"i've been thinking about you. and us." he confesses, almost shy. the movie playing in front of you has long fizzled out of your attention. 
hey might as well rip the band aid off. 
"me too," you hum, "why aren't we official again?"
you feel him sigh dramatically, "because my career."
you squint. there goes the same lousy explanation. "you could put more i don't know, thought into us."
he shifts under the blankets , "valentine's day is coming up. dont worry love i have it all planned out." he assures you. 
"oh yeah ?" you tease
"just you wait, the best valentine's day ever." he kisses the top of your head soundly.
—--
worst fucking valenties day of your life. you don't remember being more livid a day in your life. you cant remember the last time so much pure rage burned through you, hot enough to hurt. you didn't think it was humanly possible to clench your fist so tight youve dug into your palm hard enough to draw blood. 
your head hurts, your legs hurt, you think your arm is starting to bruise from where you were shoved into a table on "accident" but what would Jude know. he was so busy taking pictures with models and laughing at corny jokes while you kept yourself company. texting and calling didnt work and he didn't even try to give you any attention the whole night, you can't keep doing this with him. 
"you can't just run off-" Jude shouts from somewhere behind you. 
"or what Jude. or fucking what." you seeth, not bothering to face him, storming out into the night. 
It's your fault for trusting him all those nights ago. your fault for falling for the same shit over and over. 
he sprints to catch up to you, "i don't know why you're being like this."
you stop dead in your tracks, "oh i don't know, let's think. you didn't tell me your escorts would be there. and to top it all fucking off they have to nerve to be on my ass the whole night, not letting me get anywhere near you even through we walked in together?"
he doesn't respond and you half the mind not to punch the shit out of him, walking further away from the club you just came from, heels clanking against the sidewalk so hard it hurts, pulling on your dress so you dont trip and fall. maybe you should let it go so you can fall flat on your face. that would be a better ending to the night than seeing his face. silly stupid you thinking this would work. 
"happy fucking valentines day huh Jude. you take me to a damn club, you ignore me the whole night, and you spend all your time surrounded by other women who might as well just suck you off right then and there." you yell, hell if anyone hears. you want them too, you want him to be as humiliated as you feel. 
Bellinghams date thrown away the moment you step inside, ignored and tossed for some common whores. oh you can't wait to see where your face ends up online after tonight. you can see the headlines now. 
he grabs your arm, making you face him, "love listen-"
"no, you dont get to fucking do that anymore. you cant keep sweet talking your way out of things when you fuck up. why can't you just pretend to care" your voice shakes, you can feel tears brimming in your eyes.
"i'm not trying to talk my way out of it, i'm trying to explain." he tries.
you yank your arm out of his grip, "i'm not listening anymore, im done. all i asked was one day for us, just valentines day to make things work. and you showed me you dont care enough for that." 
"please, let me fix this." he pleads.
"its too late."
"i wanted things to work so fucking bad, and you humiliated me Jude. i imagined a nice dinner, hell i would have settled for take out and a few kisses. that's how bad i want things to work, that's how bad i wanted you." you tremble. 
"please my darling. let's talk about this. come back inside and i'll show everyone that you are mine," he holds a hand out to you, waiting. silently pleading with each breath he takes. 
the street lights dance across his skin as for a moment you almost believe him. for a moment you think about stepping back inside with him. you can't do that to yourself, not again. 
"no, iim done. don't follow me, don't call me dont text nothing. i want nothing more to do with you." your firm, final. swallowing the lump that builds in your throat, youd be damned if he sees you cry after this fucking shit show.
he stops in his tracks at this, not bothering to try and stop you. 
it hurts more than it should to leave him behind you, but you honest to god can not keep up with his lifestyle. 
all those articles and rumors were right you suppose, he's an arrogant stuck up bastard with too much money to know what to do with, too cocky for his own good and destroys anything good that comes his way. you hope he's happy without you. 
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bloomries · 5 months ago
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I'm not sure if you write angst or not, but if you do can you write the brothers (separately) and mc get into a big argument like a very heated one and the brothers says something like "im so fucking tired of you blah blah blah the next time i see you better be at your funeral" and then like a few hours later mc either dies or is like almost dead but survives you can pick 🫶🏿🫶🏿 FEEL FREE TO MODIFY(?) MY REQUEST AT ALL !! you don't have to write all of the brothers
regretting his words.
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includes : lucifer, mammon, satan, and belphegor.
summary : getting into a fight with ___, him basically telling you he wishes you were dead, but he'll soon find himself regretting those words when you get fatally injured.
warnings : gn! reader. heavy angst. serious & intense arguments. death (reader dies/nearly dies).
note : thank you for the request! i totally didn't cry i did! i don't write angst often, so i'm not sure how good it is but i hope that it suffices! please enjoy!
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LUCIFER
You were just happily chatting away, telling Lucifer about your day when he slammed his hands on his desk, standing up abruptly as he glares at you with those terrifying red eyes. "Stop. Speaking." His voice echoes off the walls.
"W- What-"
"I said, stop speaking. Fuck, all you do is talk. I can't wait for the day you finally cease that incessant yapping!" You're too stunned to say anything else, faltering between wanting to cry and to yell, instead Lucifer continues. "Leave, now! And don't come back unless you decide you can be quiet." He points to the door, and you scamper off without a word.
If he had known that would be the last time he got to hear about your day, he would've bit his tongue and set his pen down to listen. However, he stands beside your lifeless body, staring at it with a bitter taste in his mouth. Was this... his fault?
If he hadn't shouted for you to leave, then you wouldn't have left the house, and wouldn't have been attacked by a drunk demon. "H... How- How do we get them back-" He lifts his head to look up at Diavolo, who hesitates.
Oh.
There was no getting you back. "No... W- We brought them back before, we can do it again. Do it again!" He demanded, although when he realized how loud his voice got, he faltered. Yelling, again. Why was he always yelling? He can't remember...
Diavolo leaves, to give Lucifer some time to process and time to say what goodbyes he needs to. The moment the door closes, Lucifer drops to his knees, holding back tears as he lightly holds your hand. "I- I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... Tell me, please. Tell me about your day, I want to hear it. Please." Despite the desperation in his hoarse voice, no words are given back to him, and he realizes he'll have to come to terms with the fact he'll never hear your voice again.
MAMMON
"Get off of me," Mammon shoves you away, sneering at your pleading expression. "If ya don't wanna support me then just go." You knew it would be a hard task, to get the demon of greed to stop gambling, but you had tried relentlessly either way.
"Mammon, I just think-"
"Here we go again, I don't wanna hear your naggin' again, 'kay?" You rush to grab hold of his arm, holding him back from leaving.
"Please, just stay in and-"
"Fuck, can you get off? I'm so fuckin' tired of this shit," His eyes glowed as he glared down at you, anger coursing through his veins, "I don't wanna see ya again, not less it's at your funeral, got it? Now just leave me be," He finally shook you off and left, slamming the door and leaving you in darkness.
Darkness that Mammon would soon return to, only the apartment he left you at was set ablaze. His heart was hammering in his chest as he rushed past the crowd, swerving through the fire despite the cries from the crowd for him to stop.
Pushing open the door, his heart hammered in his chest as he seen you, on the ground. He couldn't care about the smoke, even as he hacks his lungs out, as he checks your vitals desperately.
You were still alive, although barely. As he picks you up, a paper falls out of your hand. He picks it up and his world stops moving.
'Next time we'll kill them. Pay your debts.' He knew exactly who it was from, those damned witches. Cursing under his breath, he carries you out of the burning building, and on the ride to the hospital, he's blubbering apology after apology, begging for your forgiveness, even though you've yet to wake.
SATAN
"You can't do anything right, can you?" Satan hisses out, snatching the book in your hand away from you. You thought you'd try and be helpful, to organize his books for him since it had gotten so messy, but instead you were met with his fury. "Damn it, you messed everything up!" He groans at the sight of his books being put back in their place. He had a system! And you ruined it.
"I have to reorganize all of this now!" He swiped all the books you had put on the shelf off, them all clattering to the ground with heavy thuds. You slowly backed yourself towards the door. "The only thing you knew how to do right was die." The memory of dying by his brothers hand was painful, but nearly as painful as his words.
You choke on a sob, tears spilling down your cheeks. "I- I'm sorry," You whimper out, before leaving. It takes Satan a few hours to calm down, and once he does, he feels incredibly guilty. He should apologize, he decides, embarrassed as he opens the door- only to be met with a frantic household.
"Satan! There you are! What the hell!" Mammon is the first to notice Satan and his confusion.
"What's going on?" Satan asks, peering down the hall. "Where is [Y/n]?" Mammon falters, awkwardly shifting in place.
"No one told you...?" Satan gave him a look that read 'told-me-what?' and Mammon frowns, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"They got into an accident. We're all heading to the hospital but..." Satan's heart sinks at the grim look Mammon holds. "It doesn't sound good, s- so hurry!"
An accident? You got into an accident? He doesn't bother to wait for his brothers, rushing to where you're being held, and when he gets to you... Your body is bruised and battered, and your vitals are weak but at the very least stable.
"No... Please, no..." He takes your hand in his, "Y- You have to wake up, okay? So I can apologize properly, so you can hate him. I need you to wake up and hate me, okay? Curse me, hex me, I don't care just wake up..." He holds back the bile crawling up his throat. "Don't die, I can't... I didn't mean it. I can't lose you, so please... Don't die."
BELPHEGOR
"Damn it, when you came back I should've just killed you again." He grumbled, swatting your hand away. He rolls over in his bed, his back facing you. "Stupid humans, good for nothin'..." Belphegor grumbles, closing his eyes. He just wants to sleep now.
"You're so mean..." You hold back tears, going to leave. "I'm not gonna bother to ask you if you wanna join ever again!" You huff, and he rolls his eyes, snuggling further into his bed.
"Don' care, never talk to me again for all I care." With that, you left (promptly slamming the door) and he fell asleep without a care.
And it's not until he's being shaken that he wakes again. "Damn it, wake up, Belphie..."
"Ugh, I thought you said you weren't gonna talk to me anymore," He groans, slapping at the hand shaking him. Except, as he wakes up some more, he realizes it's not your voice but Asmodeus. "Huh? Oh, I thought you were..." Belphie's words die in his throat at the tear-snot drenched face Asmodeus had. "What-"
"You idiot!" Asmodeus shrieks, "Do you even know what's going on? Of course you don't!" Belphie rolls his eyes, thinking Asmo is being dramatic again.
"I don't have time for this-"
"They died." Belphegor freezes, his blood running cold. "They died, and it's all your fault! If you had just joined us, then that dumbass demon would've been too scared to approach 'em, and wouldn't have hurt 'em!" Wait hold on... You died? No, this had to be some dumb prank, right? Right!?
"Asmo, what the fuck are you talking about?"
"Come downstairs and see for yourself!" Belphie follows apprehensively, and sure enough, there you lay, in your bed as if you were asleep, but you weren't. He couldn't hear your heart, that heartbeat that always lulled him into his most peaceful slumbers.
"No, not again..." His hands were shaking as he approached you, "How could I... I did... this?" He looks at his brothers, who shamefully turn away from his gaze. "No, I... I was just sleeping... I..." Tears spill down his cheeks. Curses and shouts erupt from him as he flips your desk, throwing memorabilia, and the such- energy his brothers haven't seen from him in quite some time. It was going to be a while before he accepted your death, once again dying because of him— And this time, there was no reset option.
263 notes · View notes
jadeylovesmarvelxo · 5 months ago
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🦇
Eddie wakes up to The Upside Down destroying itself. He manages to escape, but there's a catch...he is now a bat. You (Dustin's sister) take him in and Eddie desperately tries to find a way to get back to his human self.
Little bits of angst and some fluff. Bat Eddie for a little bit 🦇 protective Eddie.
❤️
One minute Eddie was sure he was dying. In fact, he's pretty sure he was dead for a while because when he woke up, it was to find the pain from being ripped apart by demobats, to be gone.
Eddie would have assumed he was in heaven, at peace. Until he opened his eyes fully and concluded that he was still in The Upside Down and the hellhole was tearing itself apart.
He doesn't know how he managed to escape the destruction, but he did; truth be told, he passed out a couple of times and when he was roused from his stupor by loud voices.
"You can't pick that thing up. It might have rabies!" Now that the voice was familiar, it sounded like Robin with someone he didn't recognise. He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a sort of chittering sound.
Shit... now Eddie has had an insane few hours; he woke up after being dead for god knows how long, passed out, and escaped an interdimensional hellscape only to pass out again, so it isn't his fault that he's just now noticed that he's not human.
No, he's a fucking bat. One of those nasty little shits who caused him to bleed out in Dustin's arms. Oh shit, Dustin. He had to see Dustin. Eddie begins to squeak again until you pick him up.
"It isn't one of those creepy demobats, Robin; it's smaller and kinda cute. Those things were freaky and had too many claws and teeth. Look, It's injured, I have gloves on and just want to check that it's okay and yes I'll try to hide it from Dustin, I know my brother though and he'll suss me out within minutes"
Wait a minute... You were Henderson's sister? He remembers Dustin telling him about you once or twice. He knew you were a senior when Dustin was a Freshman, but he'd never met you. He had been curious for ages, though, and now the two of you had finally met.
"Yeah, alright, just keep its teeth away from me, yeah?" Eddie squeaks; oh, Steve was here too? He would smirk if he could; he hadn't known Steve long, what with dying and all, but it was a joy to fluster the previous king of Hawkins.
He wonders if Big Boy has finally talked it out with Wheeler? If he could change back into human form, then he'd ask, but as of yet, Eddie doesn't know how to do that.
He feels like his thoughts are going a mile a minute; he wants to find his Uncle Wayne and let him know that he's okay, but that is impossible to do now. At least he would have shelter with the Hendersons until he turned back into a human.
Whenever he turned back that is.
❤️
Dustin is at eye level with Eddie, gazing at him reproachfully. Eddie squeaks, trying to convey who he is; he even manages a half-hearted fly over to Dustin's Hellfire shirt and chitters away at you and Dustin praying that you both understand. He's still weak, though, and it tires him quickly.
"I couldn't leave him out there, I understand if you don't want him in the house Dusty, I could take him to Steve's or to Robin's and look after him there," you say to your brother gently, he's still not coping well with Eddie's death and you don't want anything to set him back further.
You wish you could have met Eddie, sure you knew of him around school but your paths never crossed that much. Not enough for you to be properly introduced to him... and now it was too late.
It would have been nice to know the person who your brother adored so much.
"S'kay, he's kinda cute. Nothing like those freaky little shits we've had to fight. I think he might just be a normal bat? Everything from The Upside Down is dust now so we don't have to worry"
Eddie closes his eyes, growing sleepy. He's now cocooned in soft blankets in a little box and figures maybe he will get some sleep and figure out how to turn back to human once he's had a good rest. Your fingers gently rub his head and he chitters softly, it's nice.
The next thing Eddie knows he's waking up to sobbing and startles when he realises it's Dustin who's made his way to your room, he's crying on your shoulder and Eddie's heart restricts painfully at the pain in Dustin's voice.
"I miss Eddie, I just want him back. It's not fair that he had to die" Eddie watches you soothe Dustin as best as you can but you're teary too and Eddie finds that this hurts his heart just as much as Dustin hurting.
He barely knows you but he finds himself wondering how you got involved in this mess with The Upside Down? How long exactly has Eddie been dead?
Eyes sweeping over the room, he finds a calendar with the date on it. November 30th 1986.
Eight months. He's been gone just over six months. Fuck. There's a sinking feeling that only grows stronger as he watches Dustin cry.
Dustin in pain makes Eddie's heart ache and he's determined to get back to his human self even more now.
❤️
For a few days, Eddie lays low and naps as much as he can. His injured wing is healing faster than he thought, but no matter how many times he tries to turn back into his human self, it doesn't work.
Then there have been attempts to help you and Dustin realise that he is Eddie. Though realistically there isn't much he can do, he gravitates towards the heavy metal CDs and the D&D figures in Dustin's room, but that doesn't help much.
He nibbles on the fruit and finishes the lot in minutes. Shit, if Uncle Wayne could see him willingly eat fruit... the old man would laugh his ass off. Ideas for his next attempt to reveal himself run through his mind as he watches you read on the bed and squeaks to get your attention.
You grin as you make your way over to him, "You're lucky you're cute. You're so noisy; I don't know how Mom hasn't found you yet, especially with Tews on the prowl" You gently pat his little head, then groan as the doorbell rings.
All is silent for a few seconds then he hears arguing at the front door and pauses eating. Since he's feeling a lot better, he manages to fly out of your room to see what's happening.
Paul Davids is at your door, Eddie remembers him as one of Jason's friends. Which makes Eddie ponder what happened to Carver during the earthquake? Maybe that's something he can find out whenever he turns back into a human.
Judging from the argument you're having with Paul, it's about you turning him down for a date. Eddie watches and feels a growing sense of irritation aimed at the douchebag.
Dustin appears at the doorway and Eddie squeaks to get Dustin's attention. *Douchebag alert, huh dude?* well, that's what he would say if Dustin could understand him and Dustin nodded along like he did.
"Tell me about it, total douchebag" Paul glares at Dustin but you push him out the door before he can say anything. Eddie flies over to you and perches himself on your shoulder.
"What the fuck? Is that a bat?" Paul gawks at him and you scowl, attempting to close the door.
"None of your business, Now leave me the hell alone. I'm not interested so I don't know why you keep showing up" Eddie stills when Paul's eyes flash and he grabs your arm which causes you to yelp.
The anger that's been slowly building explodes; Paul is saying something else, but Eddie can't hear him; one minute, he's flying around the butthead and squeaking furiously, and then the next, he blacks out for a few seconds. When he comes too he's in his own body for the first time in days.
"Did you not hear her, or do I need to knock some sense into you, asshole?" he snaps; Paul goes as white as a sheet and runs away from the door, screeching. "Ghost! Ghost!"
He's human again. Thank fuck, he's never been so happy to be in his own body.
Silence engulfs the hallway, Dustin is staring at him in shock. It's your reaction that startles him. You shriek and nearly brain Eddie with a lamp which he narrowly avoids.
"What the fuck. I swear if this is some beyond-the-grave shit from Vecna I will personally kick his Grinch-looking ass back to hell" Eddie snorts at your description then ducks another attack by the lamp.
"No, shit. It's me. It's Eddie. I was the bat; I woke up in The Upside Down and escaped its destruction, passed out a few times and woke up to find out that I was a fucking bat"
Dustin stirs from his shock and whispers Eddie's name, Eddie nods gently and holds his arms out so Dustin runs into them, his whole body is shaking as he cries into Eddie's shoulder.
"You..you were dead; you died in my arms, Eddie", he sobs, and Eddie fights back his own tears. Instead, he peers over at you and smiles impishly.
"Not going to knock me out with that lamp are you princess?" you slowly put the lamp down while mouthing princess to yourself.
"Never told me your sister was beautiful but deadly, Henderson", he jokes to Dustin, who makes a face; it stops the tears, and he groans.
"Dude, that's my sister. Gross" You meet his gaze and he notices you now look a bit flustered.
"I better call Steve and Hopper and figure out what we are going to do now", Eddie winces, yeah he's figuring he will still have to lay low; there would still be people who thought he was a murderer, even with all the shit that had happened in Hawkins.
"Wait a second... I thought Hopper died last year?" you and Dustin exchange looks and Dustin pats his shoulder.
"Come on buddy, you need to wash up. I'll ask Steve to bring some extra clothes for you. I'll fill you in about Hopper"
Once Eddie is showered he finds clothes that Steve has brought over and dresses as quickly as he can, trying his hardest not to look at the scars that litter his body. He's lucky to be alive so he can deal with some particularly gnarly scarring.
There's so much he has to do, but until his name is cleared, he can't exactly waltz back home to Uncle Wayne, well unless Hopper can clear him. Dustin reassured Eddie that Hop would think of something.
Then another thought occurs to him, shit is the trailer even there anymore? He can't remember much after escaping from The Upside Down, he's so lost in thought that he doesn't hear you come in.
"Hey, you okay Eddie?" you stop mid-sentence and look away from him, suddenly shy. Flushed Eddie pulls on the plain black T-shirt Steve gave him.
"Do they still hurt?" you ask worriedly and he shakes his head. It was more phantom pain than anything else, and the memories. He shudders.
"The memories are the worst part. I can deal with anything else, it's uh...just those moments of sheer terror when I knew I was going to die, the feeling of those things tearing into me" he chokes back a sob and you hurry to him taking his hand and squeezing it tightly.
"It's okay. You're here, you survived. Vecna, everything in The Upside Down is gone. There's nothing to be afraid of now. We're going to get your name cleared, and we can all move on from this shit, not have to worry about constantly being in danger all the time" the two of you settle on the bed; Eddie is still holding your hand; it's a nice feeling, really nice.
"How the hell did you get involved in this shit?" It's something he's been curious about for a while.
"Oh, I've known something was wrong with this town for a while, ever since Will disappeared, everything that happened after that. I always had the suspicion that Dustin was involved and last year confirmed it. I kept waiting for something else to go down, and then Vecna happened... after you died, it was bad, Eddie, really bad. Apocalypse bad"
Shit... Dustin barges into the room and zeros in on you and Eddie holding hands, he rolls his eyes.
"Okay, I'm just so happy you're back, man, that I'm not going to mention you holding hands with my sister...yet. Now come on Hopper and Steve are waiting" Eddie chuckles and stands up, kissing your hand before he goes, mostly just to wind up Dustin.
"Dude...we really need to talk about your tone" he ruffles Dustin's hair and then makes his way to the longue.
Time to face the music. Steve's jaw drops when Eddie walks in, and he swears, "Shit, Eddie dude...if I had any idea you were alive, then I would have never left you down in that shit hole" Eddie shrugs and pats Steve on the shoulder.
"I did die; I just came back to life in some freaky Upside Down twist. Anyway, you miss me, big boy?" He bats his eyes at Steve, who blushes; it was fun to fluster him.
Hopper approaches him and smiles gruffly.
"Okay, kid, let's start on getting you cleared, yeah?"
❤️
For the last few weeks, Eddie has been getting to know you. You were quick-witted, funny and beautiful. He had been trying hard not to fall for you but it was a losing battle. Steve teased him relentlessly whenever Eddie would blush in your presence.
You were a Wiz at D&D having passed on all your knowledge to Dustin and when you told him that you had even seen the legend that was Ozzy Osbourne himself on stage, Eddie nearly fell of his seat with excitement.
"Dude, you hid the perfect woman from me all this time?" He moans to Dustin who gags.
"Nope, if you're going to ask out my sister, then please don't turn into one of those cheesy, lovey-dovey couples", Dustin begs him, and Eddie only winks in acknowledgement.
His name is cleared thanks to Hopper and he can just focus on the fact he was given a second chance at life. Mostly he's been spending his time with you, Dustin, Nance, Steve and Robin.
There was a tearful reunion with Wayne before Eddie was shipped off to one of those government hospitals just to make sure that his bites didn't have lasting effects, you know, besides being able to turn into a bat.
He managed to graduate, though he thinks the school was just happy to get rid of him; Hellfire Club was also back in session and hosted at Steve's place once a week. You had joined and had Eddie wrapped around your finger from the first session; he wasn't ashamed to admit it, either.
Eddie smiles shyly at you when you kiss his cheek in greeting; the two of you begin discussing scenarios for the latest campaign while Dustin argues with Steve about what movie to put on for the weekly movie night.
One major thing was on Eddie's mind, he wanted to ask you out. Maybe after surviving death by fucked up bats, he will have the courage to finally ask you soon? He has a sneaking suspicion that you'll say yes.
Two hours later, he finds that suspicion to be true, and Dustin, half disgusted/half pleased, begs Eddie to please refrain from kissing you where he can see it.
Just for that, Eddie plans to kiss you all the time just to gross the little butthead out.
🤭
❤️🦇
279 notes · View notes
yuukiiqwq · 10 months ago
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Dandelions: Sukuna Ryomen x Reader
His heart beats only for you while yours beats for someone else, so he made a wish on a dandelion, hoping it would come true.
Context/Warnings: Fem!Reader, Soft!Sukuna, swearing, unrequited love, flower language, a bit suggestive
Wc: 2.7k
Part 2
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It's not like he wanted to fall in love with you. It was actually your fault. You weaseled your way into his life and then his heart. If only you had left him alone, then none of this would have happened. But you were too god damn stubborn to leave him alone. It was all your fault.
It was so stupid how he fell in love with you. Sukuna absolutely hated cliché stuff. And here he is going through the stereotypical cliché plot. He even told you how much he hated it. He remembers telling you how he rather die than read those stupid romance books you like to read. They were full of stupid plot with disgusting mushy feelings. Basically, it's the same thing in every story. He always felt like his ears were going to fall off listening to you talk about those stories. Recently, you started to read this one-shot called Dandelion. Something about a guy having unrequited feelings for a girl for years and the girl liking someone else.
Absolutely fucking ridiculous.
Sukuna remembers how he met you. It was a few years ago, back when they were still in school. He was minding his own business and then you fucking popped out of nowhere. He wouldn't tell you but you scared the shit out of him when you suddenly appeared.
"Yknow, smoking is bad for you."
He turned around to see you at the door smiling.
"Y'know, not minding your own fucking business is bad for you," he scoffed. "Get out of here. This is my spot."
You walked up to him and snatched the cigarette away. You tossed it onto the ground and put out the light.
"They can cause many health problems," you say as you crossed your arms. "And I don’t see your name anywhere on this rooftop."
He glared at you– "Listen here, you brat. What I do has absolutely nothing to do with you. So skip along to your friends and go bother them instead."
"What if you are my friend?" You said smugly. Your eyes were shining with mischief. "And since you said to go bother my friends, that's what I'm doing."
"You must think you're so fucking funny," he snarled at you.
You put your hands on your waist– "I am actually very funny."
He took a step towards you and towered over you. "Leave."
You looked up at him with a deadpan expression.
"No."
"Last warning. Leave."
"Make me."
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News flash – He wasn’t able to get rid of you. He was unsuccessful no matter what he did.
You decided to bother him every single god damn day. Somehow, you always showed up at the rooftop whenever he was there. You just wouldn't leave him alone, so he decided to ditch the rooftop. To say he failed was something he didn’t want to admit. He didn't fail. He just decided to ignore you. But then you showed up in front of his classroom. You somehow found his classroom.
He clicked his tongue in annoyance and quickly tried to leave before you could catch up to him.
Mission escaping the brat– failed.
You were a fast little thing. You immediately caught up to him and were now walking side by side with him. This caused a lot of people in the hallway to stare at both of you. You two were an unexpected duo to see together.
"Sukunaaaaaaa"
Great. You even found out his name. Amazing. Whoever told you his information is dead. He's going to kill them.
"Sukuna, if you keep looking like that, you'll end up being super ugly. No wonder you don't have a girlfriend."
Sukuna turned around to face you– "You trying to pick a fucking figh–"
He wasn’t able to finish his sentence as you stuffed a mochi in his mouth. Where the fuck did that mochi come from?!
He quickly chewed the mochi and swallowed.
"Did you fu–"
"Was it good?" You quickly interrupted. "It's a new flavor that came out recently. A friend gave me some to try."
"I don't car–"
"It was a limited edition sale. My friend camped outside the shop for a whole day just to buy all the stocks."
You continued talking about it, and Sukuna wanted to just smack you. You were so annoying.
"I am going to smack you if you keep talking."
You immediately stopped talking and walking. You looked up at him and grinned mischievously.
"Wow, Sukuna. Didn't know you were kinky like that. It's ok, though! I like it rough, but take me out to dinner first. Bedroom activities can come later~"
This caused him to explode in anger. You were teasing him. He immediately stomped away from you. He could hear you laughing as you tried to catch up to him. Fuck. You were annoying as hell. Sassy and challenging him in every way.
Your eyes were gleaming with mischief. Did you have to say that? Now he wanted to put you in your place. Bend you over under him and–
Oh fuck. Now you implanted a curse in his head. Fucking minx.
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After months of you constantly pestering him, he grew used to your presence. He started to enjoy it. Wait, no. He meant he was just tolerating you.
Yeah. That's right. He's just tolerating you.
"Sukuna! Stop!!!"
Sukuna immediately halted– "What's goin–"
"You almost stepped on some dandelions," you say as you knelt down to the floor.
Sukuna felt like he was going to pop a vein. He can't believe you stopped him for a weed. Can you let he walk to a restaurant in peace?! It was fucking Saturday. He should have never allowed you to follow him home back then.
"Are you fucking joking with me right now?" He looked down at you as you pluck the dandelion. "You stopped me for a fucking weed?"
"First of all, it's a flow–"
"It's a fucking weed."
"It's a flower!" You huffed. "And it's a wishing flower! You make a wish and then blow away the seeds!"
"Great, now you've gone crazy. Just the thing I need from you. As if you're not annoying enough."
"I have not gone crazy! People make wishes on dandelions!"
"And do you know if any of them got fulfilled?" He raised his eyebrow at you. "And I'm sure the people you talk of are kids."
"Well um–" You try to think of something to say as a comeback but come up with nothing.
He smiled smugly– "That's what I thought."
"That's not the point!" You quickly shoved a dandelion in front of his face.
"Get that weed away from my face. I'm starving for food, and you're stopping me for a weed."
"Geez, stop being a party pooper," you sulked. "Make a wish! Maybe it will come true and prove you wrong!"
"I am not going to do something so childish," he said as he pushed your hand away.
"I'll buy lunch!"
Sukuna stopped and thought about it for a second before saying– "And dinner."
If he was going to indulge in your childish antics and look like an idiot, he better get something out of it.
You reluctantly agreed, and he snatched the dandelion out of your hands. He made a wish and then blew the dandelion seeds away.
"There. Made my wish. Now I hope your wallet is ready."
"Whatever, you glutton! What did you wish for?"
"None of your fucking business brat."
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The two of you spent a lot of time together. You eventually introduced Sukuna to your other friends. Which surprised Sukuna because at this point, with the amount of time you came and bothered him, he believed that your friends were imaginary.
A girl named Shoko Ieiri, who looks like she's sleep deprived. A guy named Suguru Geto, who, in his opinion, looks weird. Why is he smiling like that!? And finally, a guy named Satoru Gojo. He was the worst out of all your friends. He didn't do anything to him, but just looking at him makes Sukuna want to get rid of him. Cut him in half. Sukuna didn't understand exactly why until he looked at you, looking at him.
Although Sukuna personally knew nothing about love, he knew what he saw. He seen enough people do what they do when in love. He heard enough about the stupid love stories you like to read. He can see it in your eyes when you look at your friend. You liked him.
The way your eyes light up whenever he comes toward you. The way your cheeks start to turn red with a small blush. The way you nervously play with your hands. The smile you give whenever you're around him. A smile that can rival the sun. He felt a pain blossom in his chest as he clenched his fist. These are things he has never seen or gotten from you before.
He hated everything that was going on right now. He hated the way you would sneak glances at him when you think no one was looking. The way you lean into his touch. The way you looked at him with pure adoration and love.
He absolutely hated it.
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It took a while for Sukuna to understand why he hated Gojo so much. Why just the sight of Gojo annoyed him. And it's all your fault.
He didn't even know when these feelings started. Was it when you guys first met and you stood your ground with him? Was it when you teased him? Was it when you kept bothering him? Was it when you guys would go out for lunch or dinner together? Was it when he took care of you when you were sick? Did he fall for your looks? Your personality? Was it because of the times you've spent together?
Fuck. He was pissed. Here he is, catching those disgusting mushy feelings for you. Something he sweared would have never happened, and he doesn’t even know how it even happened.
"Fucking hell," Sukuna sighs as he run his hand through his hair.
It should be fine, right? He'll just ignore this. Move on like he didn't realize he fell in love with you somewhere along this journey. These feelings won't last anyway. It will disappear soon. You liked someone else, too, so it should be easy to move on. Right?
Fucking wrong. He's never been more wrong in his life.
All of you have graduated and are now doing your own thing. You all meet up regularly to hang out. Although Sukuna made an effort to see you daily as much as possible–
Wait, no. Correction: He sees you daily because he knows you'll do something stupid if he wasn't watching over you. Nothing else, really.
It's not like Sukuna had trouble moving on. He's not dreaming about you daily. He doesn't want you. It's not like that at all. He obviously moved on from you while you still liked Gojo. No point in these feelings since they're a nuisance.
Deep down, even if he ignores it, he knows he still likes you. But it's not like you'll ever look his way like the way you look at Gojo. Unless an opportunity arrives and it just so happens to arrive. That opportunity came knocking at his door, and he isn't going to let it slip away.
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After years watching you love someone else, now he is watching you get your heart broken by that same person. Honestly, he never understood why you fell in love with this guy. That guy was a child in a man's body. Like, who even drinks those sugary, coma-inducing drinks??
But here you are smiling through the pain. He saw small tears forming in your eyes before you quickly wiped them away and said there was dust in your eyes. Others may not notice it, but he does. He saw the hurt in your eyes when Gojo told them that he fell in love at first sight with someone.
Great. Now he wants to murder Gojo even more now for hurting you.
However, he can't help but feel happy? Relief? He doesn't know what he felt. He just knew that an opportunity was given. But he isn't going to be a shitty person and confess to you right when you got your heart broken. He'll wait until you heal. If you ever will. After all, he had already kept his feelings to himself for years. What's wrong with waiting a bit more?
He could make you happy. He would give it his god damn all to make you happy. He would never hurt you. He wouldn't make you cry. At least not cry in a sad way. You crying under him, though, is a different story–
He quickly shakes his head to get rid of that thought. He's getting distracted. You got him wrapped around your fingers, and you don't even know it. He couldn't help but sigh. He really is still in love with you.
He watches as you and Geto try to give Gojo advice on how to win over the person he likes.
"You're an idiot," he interrupted.
He stared at Gojo as he said it, but it was meant for you and himself, really. Both of you two are idiots. Both of you have unrequited love, like in those shitty stories you read. He really is living in the stupid cliché plot he hates. And it's all your fault.
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A few months have passed since then. He knew you had mostly moved on. He can still see the hurt sometimes, but it's fading. He knew he should make a move soon. After all, if he doesn't, what if someone else approaches you? But he also knows that just because you moved on doesn't mean you'll see him as he sees you. So he's willing to wait for that day. The day you look at him the way he looks at you.
So here he is. Standing in front of a flower shop. Looking extremely out of place. If you told his past self that he fell in love with you and is now trying to pursue you, he can see his past self attempting murder. He really can't believe he's going to order flowers.
He took a few deep breaths and walked in.
The minute he walked in, a florist greets him– "Hello sir! How may we help you today?"
"Can you make me a boutique?"
"Of course, sir! What type of flowers would you like for the boutique?"
He wanted something to convey his feelings and message. He's done some research about flowers and their meaning. Many websites showed different things, but he eventually settled for one.
"I want..."
When he finally finished ordering the flowers, he went home. On his way back home, he noticed a dandelion.
"...it's a wishing flower! You make a wish and then blow away the seeds! ...People make wishes on dandelions!"
He stared at the dandelion for a few minutes before he clicked his tongue. He bent down and plucked it. He then made a wish and blew the seeds away. He didn't know why he did it. It's not like the dandelion would make his wish come true.
"Tsk. Can't believe I did this. It's fucking stupid."
You really made him a god damn softie so it's about fucking time you take responsibility.
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A few days later, he asked you to meet him at your usual spot. A place that only the two of you knew. When he arrived with the boutique, you were already there. You were sitting on the bench, looking over the city.
He quietly stared at you for a while. You were so beautiful sitting there. If angels did exist, you'll be one of them. But then again, your personality was more like a devil. You cast a curse on his heart, and honestly, he didn't mind it. You can curse him for his entire lifetime as long as you accept him.
"Hey, brat. Look behind you."
When you heard the sound of his voice, you quickly turned around. You looked at him and smiled until you noticed the boutique in his hand. You gasped as your eyes widened.
Red chrysanthemum and astilbe. I love you and I will be waiting for you.
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nightprompts · 2 years ago
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&. 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.
( dialogue  prompts  taken  from the script of  everything  everywhere  all  at  once  (2022),  directed  by  daniel  kwan  and  daniel  scheinert.  feel  free  to  edit  and  change  as  you  seem  fit. )
❛ you look really pretty right now. ❜
❛ stop changing the subject. ❜
❛ every day i fight, i fight for all of us. ❜
❛ what are you doing? what is wrong? ❜
❛ if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode. ❜
❛ you may be in grave danger. there is no time to explain.❜
❛ we can make our own way. please, come with me. ❜
❛ don't even talk to me about this because i won't remember.❜
❛ i am not your husband. at least not the one you know. i am another version of him from another life path, another universe. ❜
❛ i’m here because we need your help.❜
❛ sorry, very busy today. no time to help you– ❜
❛ all those years of searching have brought me here. to this universe. to you. ❜
❛ i’m here to tell you every rejection, every disappointment has led you here. to this moment. ❜
❛ i'm not ready to fight yet. ❜
❛ maybe we don't have a choice. ❜
❛ now, you can either come with me and live up to your ultimate potential, or lie here and live with the consequences. ❜
❛ i... want to lie here. ❜
❛ how often do people literally die laughing? ❜
❛ my husband won't even kill a spider. how are you the same person? ❜
❛ we are talking about infinity. if you can imagine it, somewhere out there, it exists. ❜
❛ how did i die? ❜
❛ i've seen you die a thousand ways. in a thousand worlds. in every single one, you were murdered. ❜
❛ what!? who wants me dead? ❜
❛ you’ve been feeling it too, haven’t you? something is off. your clothes never wear as well the next day, your hair never falls in quite the same way, even your coffee tastes... wrong. ❜
❛ maybe we would have been better off if we had never gotten married. ❜
❛ i never said that. ❜
❛ you didn’t have to. it’s the way you look at me. ❜
❛ can’t you see it? how wonderful it would be if you came with me? ❜
❛ i saw my life without you. i wish you could have seen it. it was beautiful. ❜
❛ shhh, you're not thinking straight. ❜
❛ what is worse than death? ❜
❛ i saw your face on a billboard and — this is silly — i wondered if you remembered me... ❜
❛ is it that i can’t be here, or that i’m not allowed to be here? ❜
❛ there is no good, there is no evil. there is only “goovil”. ❜
❛ if you can imagine it, you have fucked it. ❜
❛ do not be so closed minded that you blind yourself from the truth! ❜
❛ don’t make me fight you. i am really really good. ❜
❛ you're capable of anything because you're so bad at everything. ❜
❛ you can't remember anything because your bodies were under the control of other universes. ❜
❛ you were like puppets. and you could do things you normally can't do. you were like, what's that movie... raccaccoonie? ❜
❛ how can you defeat her in every universe, if you can't even kill her in one? ❜
❛ the sacrifices necessary to win this war... i know all too well. ❜
❛ i cannot lose another loved one to the darkness. ❜
❛ i know you have feelings. feelings that make you so sad. that make you just want to give up. that is not your fault. ❜
❛ i'll see you again soon, somewhere out there in all that noise. ❜
❛ just think happy thoughts. ❜
❛ you okay? caught you staring off into space again. ❜
❛ i'm the one you've been looking for. ❜
❛ i’m the one who will defeat you. ❜
❛ you’re finally free, like me. ❜
❛ you don't have to choose anymore. between loving me or hating me. you can do both at the same time. ❜
❛ before, you were asking about "our daughter". it's crazy, but it really got me thinking. what if you had come with me all of those years ago? ❜
❛ all of this time, i wasn't looking for someone who could defeat me. i was looking for someone who could see what i see, feel what i feel... ❜
❛ oh, good, you're here too. ❜
❛ i'm sorry about ruining everything, i– ❜
❛ we're all stupid. small stupid little humans. it's like our whole deal. ❜
❛ everything is going to be okay. ❜
❛ you think i’m weak don’t you? ❜
❛ when we first fell in love all of those years ago, your father would say i was too sweet for my own good. maybe he was right. ❜
❛ please! can we just stop fighting! ❜
❛ you tell me that it's a cruel world and we're all just running around in circles. i know that. i've been on this earth just as many days as you. ❜
❛ the only thing i do know is we have to be kind. be kind. especially, when we don't know what's going on. ❜
❛ i know you go through life with your fists held tight. you see yourself as a fighter. well, i see myself as one too. this is how i fight. ❜
❛ in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you. ❜
❛ you know what i say? cold, hysterical, unlovable bitches like us make the world go round. ❜
❛ you aren’t unlovable. there is always something to love. ❜
❛ even in a stupid, stupid universe where we have hot dogs for fingers, we’d all be very good with our feet! ❜
❛ in a universe where we both agree that no one could love you, if we look hard enough, something will prove us wrong. ❜
❛ we are all useless alone. so its good you're not alone. ❜
❛ maybe you win in this universe. but in another, i beat you. or we tie. or we eat crepes. ❜
❛ i don't want to hurt anymore. and for some reason when i'm with you, it hurts both of us. ❜
❛ out of all of the places i could be, why would i want to be here with you? ❜
❛ i still want to be here with you. i will always want to be here with you. ❜
❛ i will cherish these few specks of time. ❜
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callmeby-mylastname · 1 year ago
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Just a Fuck
summary-she was everything and clearly you were nothing.
warnings-angsty, tara low-key toxic. shitty ass writing. swearing.
A/N- i’m gonna be honest i made this up as i went it’s complete garbage💀it’s also rushed to hell but enjoy.
part 2
12 missed calls
you had rang her 12 times in the past hour, sent countless texts and yet not a single reply.
You weren’t surprised maybe a little worried but definitely not surprised. She was ignoring you and at some random douche bags party.
You and tara weren’t exactly dating but at the same time you wouldn’t call it friends. You and tara started this regime one drunken night, pushing the boundary of friend and lover.
And as much as it made you two closer because at this point it was more than fucking; it was stolen glances, her paying attention to your favourite movies or songs, picking you up little gifts cause they reminded her of you.
It also made you drift, you were just her little secret. You didn’t mind, really you didn’t if it meant having tara you’d move countries to keep yourself a secret. It hurt a lot a little sometimes but whenever you would bring it up she’d deny you two weren’t just fucking, that, that’s all it was and it would cause a big argument so you kept quiet.
That was until around 10pm this afternoon, leading to tara storming out and ignoring you.
Calling it a night you got on a change of clothes ready for bed when you heard your apartment door.
glancing towards your phone clock reading 3:42.
You peaked through the peaking hole to see a very drunk and disheveled tara, you let out a sigh unlocking the door and opening it.
She gave you her best grin passing you a “i missed you” and waltzing into the apartment immediately making a beeline towards your bedroom.
“Tara, where have you been? you’ve been ignoring me now you show up to my apartment drunk and unannounced” you follow after her.
“Hmm? stop acting all surprised you were the one who pushed me out” she looked angrier now, tension began to fill the room and there was only way this was ending.
“How did I push YOU out? YOU left remember?” you explained. “Its’s not my fault you’re clingy and constantly need me around, god i wish you’d give me space sometimes” shes shouting now, pointing in your direction
“It’s constantly, tara come over or tara why can’t i meet your friends or your sister, tara,tara,tara. God do you ever shut up and consider maybe you really are just a fuck?” she was looking at you, dead in the eyes.
For a brief second you saw the regret flash across her eyes but you’re too busy trying not to show her how much she just hurt you.
“Get out” it wasn’t meant to come out as bitter as it did but hey she deserved it?
“Y/N… i-“
“Out”.
And like a puppy with its tail in between it’s legs she left. Her apartment was in the same complex as yours which is coincidentally how you two met, so she would make it home safe.
Yeah she hurt you but doesn’t mean you would wish any danger upon her.
With the sound of the door closing you fall onto your bed letting your tears fall.
You truly sobbed that night. You loved tara and for her to shove everything back in your face.
To know she was everything to you yet you were nothing to her, hurt like a bitch.
You cried yourseld to sleep thay night and a good few nights after that.
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barefoothighlander · 2 years ago
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I looove all the works you've been giving us, sincelery thank you for keeping us fed. So I had this idea lingering in my mind and basically : it's ghost with a reader that's only nice to him. Like they're not the most cheerful person but they're always giving him little snacks or giving him compliments and all that. So ghost think they're kind and like that all the time with everyone, but after one (or many) convos with 141 he realizes that no, they aren't very nice with people and it's just him.......... Anyway I hope this isn't too much, I wish you a good day/night!!!
epiphany
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love this, thank you!!! Ghost needs a cute lil significant other that only likes him. Hope this little one-shot fits what you were thinking of.
warnings: mentions of violence, fluff, gn pronouns, reader has codename 'phantom', insinuation of smut?
"LT, please control them," Soap says pointing toward you, you raise your hands in defence
"I didn't do anything"
"You're joking, you almost shot my head off"
"You were in the way"
"Oh really" Soap crosses towards you and Ghost steps between, arm extended in front of you keeping you from clawing at Soap, giving him a glare. Soap huffs a breath and walks away shaking his head, Ghost turns to you, head tilted in question and you smile back at him.
"How was your day?" You ask
"Did you try to kill him"
"If I was trying to he'd be dead"
He quirks his head, "That's true"
"Oh here," You say reaching into your pocket, pulling out a small pack of biscuits. "Found these earlier, remembered you loved them so"
He grabs the package from your hands eyeing them over before the two of you walk off.
A few hours later Ghost hears yelling from the mess, poking his head around the door to see you almost face to face with Soap, finger pointed at his chest, your focus shifting when you see him, anger suddenly dissipating.
"What the fuck's going on"
"Your little pet is saying the mission failure is my fault"
"Yeah, and it fucking is Johnny, you're in charge of demolitions, who else do I blame when the door doesn't blow open"
"Alright both of you stop," Ghost says, "Johnny go cool off"
"Me? They're the one that's always walking around with a sour face"
You huff at him.
"Johnny, go"
You smirk as he walks away, face dropping as Ghost grabs your arm dragging you into the hallway.
"Why is he so mad at you?"
"I don't know, Scottish temper" You smirk
He stares at you trying to read your face, he'd never seen this side of you, truth be told he kinda loved it, but usually you were skipping around your shared flat, dancing to music or nuzzling into him as you cuddled. You were always so kind and soft towards him, making sure he ate when he was home, gently cleaning his cuts, dropping him off books you thought he'd like.
The two of you go your own way after your outburst and Ghost decided to investigate. Knocking on Price's door,
"Oi Captain"
"Whaddu need son"
"Just a question, Phantom, are they ever, I dunno, mean to you?"
"Are you joking, why do you think that's their codename, they scare the shit out of everyone"
"You're joking"
"I wish, I steer clear of them when I can, almost got my head chewed off when I took them off a mission"
"Huh, thanks sir," Simon says as he leaves the room, rubbing the back of his neck before his eyes land on Gaz,
"Hey mate"
"Lieutenant"
"Phantom, thoughts?"
Gaz looks around the halls like you'd be waiting around the corner to strangle him, "Great fighter"
"I mean their personality"
Gaz is hesitant, scared you'd somehow hear him talking about you, "Saw them almost break a rookie's shoulder for talking back, never bugged them after that"
"So you're scared of them too"
Gaz simply nods.
Ghost continues asking people around the base about you, most of them simply tried to stay out of your way others had horror stories and the rest just believed that you hated them. When he left base to go home he was utterly confused, your opposing actions a mystery to him, his confusion increasing when he walked in and saw you moving around the flat half-naked, hips swaying to some old song.
A large smile plastered on your face when you saw him, practically leaping into his arms to welcome him home, planting soft kisses over his face once he removed his mask.
"Did you want a tea?"
He shakes his head and you move from him, continuing whatever task you were up to, he scans the flat, brightly coloured decor on the shelves, blankets all over the place, you had made it so cozy.
"People on base are terrified of you"
His statement makes you stop in your tracks, "What are you talking about"
"Well apparently you've threatened quite a few people"
"Huh" You simply shrug your shoulders and Ghost smiles
"Why are you so nice to me and so mean to them"
"I'm mean?"
"They certainly think so"
You move towards him wrapping your arms around his neck, standing on your toes to kiss him, "Maybe I only like you"
"Mm I like the sound of that," He says kissing you back, "But you can't yell at rookies, that's my job"
"Fine, you can be the scary one"
"Very generous of you"
"I can be generous"
"How generous" His eyebrow quirks as he lifts your legs to wrap around him,
"Very"
He carries you, leading you to the bedroom and shutting the door with his leg as a fit of giggles overtake you.
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kelppsstuff · 11 months ago
Text
Dancing
Masterlist
Warnings: blood, killing, cannibalism
Human Alastor x reader
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Alastor sat at the bar, his eye twitching at the loud mouths sitting beside him. It was a group of three boys and they were so loud most couldn’t hear the sound of the woman singing.
Alastor clenched his jaw, ready to take these assholes outside and kill them. Though the sound of a lovely voice stopped him.
“Sorry to cut your fun short boys, but some of us would actually like the music over your annoying voices.” Alastor turned his head — along with the other men — and saw you.
(H/C) paired with beautiful (E/C) hues. You looked like a goddess with your black flapper dress hugging your body. Showing off every curves your body had to offer.
Before the men could make a snarky reply to your face, you walked off. The pearls around your neck bouncing with each confident step you took.
“Fucking whore.” One of the men said, his ego clearly bruised by you. Alastor grip tightened around his glass of whiskey. Fucking disrespectful ignorant assholes, he thought. He downed the last sip of his whiskey and walked of after you.
When he caught up to you he was quick to introduce himself. “I’m Alastor. You are?” He spoke his voice remained indifferent but his eyes showed his curiosity. You smile and you took his out stretched hand. “Y/N.” You said as he kissed the back of your right hand.
Alastor smiled widened you told him your name. What a beautiful name. “Y/N” your name rolled of his tongue with ease. “Would you care to dance?” He spoke his question as the singer changed and a faster pace song started. “Why it would be a pleasure, Alastor.” He took you by the hand and started to twirl you around.
He had spent the night, dancing, drinking, and he even performed a song with you; courtesy of his dear friend Mimsy. 
“You’ve never heard of me of the radio?” Alastor asked, his voice in shock as if that would be impossible. “Unfortunately I’m not wealthy enough to own one. Probably my fault for coming here and drinking too much gin.” Alastor smiled, amused by the woman in-front of him. “That’s quite a shame.” You were about to continue your conversation when the same men from before started to become loud again. Alastor could see the irritation form in you, just as you could see it form in him.
As the night started to come to an end you wished him farewell as you walked out the door. Alastor noticed the three men from before follow you out. He went to go after them. He a devilish thoughts on what to do with them. Not only were they rude to everyone but being obnoxious, one had insulted you and he planned on making his death slow and painful.
He got distracted for just a minute and lost them. He started to curse himself, but he knew he’d get another chance.
He headed down the ally to get to him home only to be met with you licking the blood of a knife. Three men laid in front of you, all dead from stab wounds. You were covered in blood, your hair wet with it, you pearls stained of red, and your legs had streaks of bright crimson. He originally thought you looked heaven-sent, but as he saw you know heaven-sent wasn’t the right word. Ravishing was a better way to describe your tempting allure.
Alastor walked out the shadows and made himself known to you. “Looks like there’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
You eyes widen, you had been sure no one was following you four into the ally way. Alastor grabbed your left hand, as your right held the knife, and kissed it. He licked his lips and tasted the blood on your hands.
“Are you going to tell?” You could feel the panic bubbling in your stomach, but you didn’t show it.
“And why would I tell on such a splendid performance.” Alastor dropped your hand and grabbed the knife from you. Liking the rest of the blood off, just like you did before. “I must say, I am saddened you gotten to them first.”
You smiled at the tall man, “maybe next time I’ll catch you.” Alastor handed you back you knife. “Or maybe, we’ll both commit the act together.” He spoke.
“Care to dance?” He offered you a hand, making you raise a brow. “There’s no music.” You grabbed his hand.
He twirled you into his chest, the blood on you seeking into his white shirt a bit. “We can make our own.”
HIIII! I know this is short, but the idea came to me and I decided to write it. If you’ve seen my other “how long” fic then you should know that I’m working on the last and final part and it should be out very very soon! AND ALSO I AM WORKING ON ANOTHER REQUEST AS WELL!
-kelp 💛
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fan-goddess · 2 years ago
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Helloooo love! I'm a fan lurking in the dark with a request idea for Aemond x Reader. Would love to see your take on Aemond trying to win Reader back (his wife) after she found out about Alys. Maybe this happens after the "Dance" , Aemond survives and they have to deal with the aftermath of Alys. Reader loved him with everything she had so she feels betrayed and turns cold to him and maybe because of Alys, something also happened to her (idk lost pregnancy perhaps but PLEASE exclude this if you don't feel comfortable writing it). Basically take everything you find interesting from this request and work your magic - I trust you like no other!!! Thank you I send you all the love there is - you are very very talented and please know there are many like me that think you are truly brilliant, I know it!!! :*:*
Authors Note: Oh my god thank you this is so freakin sweet! 🥺 I’m happy to take the request and spin my take on this, hope you enjoy it! :)
Also, some of the stuff Is made up like the time between Daemons death and end of the war. I don’t know it so I made it up. If you don’t like it take it up with my dms
Word count: 2.6K
Warnings: Cheating, miscarriage though it’s not explicit, she’s kinda depressed? Not sure how to describe it,
Taglist: @blue-serendipity
The Sequels: The Depressive one, The happy One
—————
If Aemond ever regretting not killing anyone throughout the war he technically started, most would’ve immediately assumed that he wished he never killed his nephew. Though they were wrong. Yes, Lucerys’ death became one of the many causes of the war and in turn deaths of so many people, but his death didn’t result in the loss of you and your child.
Alys’ death could’ve though.
When he first met Alys, he had been nearly immediately enraptured and enamoured by had. She was quite different to you. While you had always been headstrong and never afraid to tell Aemond what he needed to do or to be, Alys had been more docile and had no issue in telling Aemond all the things he wanted to hear.
He regretted the first time he laid with Alys in his bed. Though that regret went away the more time he spent with her and the more times he laid with her. He begun to think of possibly taking after Aegon the conqueror, thinking he’d have both you and Alys by his side when Aegon most likely drank himself to death.
That fantasy was soon ruined when he got that letter.
Dear Aemond,
Do you think of me as a fool? I know about that fucking woman Aemond. I know about Alys. I don’t know why you have decided to betray our marriage and honestly, I don’t think care I can bring myself to think about it nor care anymore. This letter was originally going to be happy. A letter letting you know what we prayed near everyday from the seven had finally come true and been answered. I was with child. Our child made purely of what I had thought was love. Though that changed when I was informed of what you had done. I mourned for what we could’ve had. I cried and refused to believe it at first, though soon I came to my senses. Yet it was too late. Our child is dead Aemond. I woke up a few days ago to heavy blood staining our bedsheets. The child was barely two months according to the maester. I wish for you to know it is your fault Aemond. I do not wish to ever see you again. I wish to never hear from you so if you attempt to reconcile or send a letter I will pay for our child’s blood with your own. You have dug your grave Aemond. Don’t try and dig it deeper. If you are to die in battle, I hope it is painful. I hope you suffer like I have.
From, your wife
From your former wife
Aemond had felt his heart plummet to the floor when he read that letter. He could not stop the tears that fell to the floor and stained the letter he still was holding. The ink blotting and staining the page so much the words were becoming near illegible.
He attempted to head into battle with the faint hope that you’d forgive him if he killed his uncle. Though even he knew deep down that no amount of deaths could fix anything. Yet even still he tried. He defeated Daemon, with blood of which Targaryen man he did not know staining and pooling on his ripped armour.
Aemond came home where he was met with his mother and brother, who both congratulated him on his victory. Though even with their congrats he could see the disgust that lingered in his mothers gaze as she looked at him. It made his shame all that more prominent.
He would’ve gone to see you, but Aegon stopped him before he could, claiming he was holding a feast in his name for the defeat of Daemon. He tried to look for you in the amount of people that came, yet he couldn’t. And he didn’t dare ask his mother if you would be coming in fear of her glare and disappointment.
That night he wonders something. Maybe it would’ve been better if he did die by the hand of his uncle? Then it would’ve saved him from all this torture. Though he can’t say he didn’t deserve it. Aemond can only wallow in his drinks that he keeps being given and his own sorrow.
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Aemond was back home. The words the maids said echoed in your head. He’s here, and no doubt going to attempt to reconcile. If there was one thing you ever learnt about your husband, was that he never quit at anything he started.
You already made bets with yourself on how he’d attempt to do it.
Maybe he’ll try flowers? No that’s too much of a common move for Aemond to pull… Maybe he’ll bring you some jewellery? No that’d make him feel like he was buying for your forgiveness. Like he was buying something for a mistress. Well… he’s been there and done that…
There is always the chance Aemond will not even attempt to reconcile. Hopefully becoming too overcome by the grief and pain of the loss of his and your child that he’d respect your wishes after reading your own pain on paper. The maids still look at you worriedly, especially when they find you sitting near the window. You know why they worry, you mourned Helaena and Jahaerys and you know you will not become like her.
Aegon was also the one who told you about Alys, and when you lost your child and screamed for the whole of the castle to hear, it was Aegon who ran to you to mourn with you and hold you while you cried for a life you may have been able to have. He held you in the way a brother would hold a sister. He even cried with you and helped clean you of the blood. Oh the blood…
———
It’s been a few long months, but the war between the greens and the blacks is finally over. Aegon is celebrating by holding a massive banquet and all the lord and ladies who supported him are invited. Even though Aemond knows it will not happen, he secretly hopes you will come to celebrate.
Though as he keeps sneaking glances at the door all night he eventually comes to term with the fact you’re not coming. He can only swallow more bitter wine and ignore the fact he’s drinking it like a fish in water now.
He’s attempted to reconcile from a distance ever since the incident but everything he has sent to your chambers has come back in shreds. The flowers from the garden you loved to look after, heads torn from their stems and cut into a thousand pieces. The books he sent on your favourite topic, you had more restraint on them and simply chucked them from your window onto unsuspecting bystanders bellow.
Aegon told him delightfully how after he delivered the books to you, they were seen immediately thrown from the window and one had supposedly managed to hit one knight straight on the head, effectively knocking him out cold.
Though if anything those small acts of defiance made Aemond wish to reunite and return to you even more. It reminded him just why he fell in love with you in the first place. Your wit and your wisdom made him fall head over heals for you, literally.
He had tripped in front of you and some other ladies of the court due to the load of books he was carrying. He had not yet gotten used to the visual impairments the loss of his eye provided and did not see the thrown goblet in his path. Aemond had effectively turned scarlet when the ladies began to mockingly giggle at him, it nearly made his heart beat straight from his chest when he saw you come to his help. “You need to get some help with those. It’s not that bad to ask for help you know? Means you aren’t a stubborn twat.” You grin.
He wished he could go back to those days. They were simpler. They held no knowledge of the war they would face. It held no knowledge of the bastard from Harrenhal.
Aemond had not tried to reunite with you in person. He knew you’d most definitely follow through with your threat and spill his blood. It’s why he attempted to send you items instead through the maids. Though it’s very obvious those weren’t working either. That’s when he got the idea to write you letters. There was easily a chance that you would burn them or tear them the moment you saw the writing. Yet even then Aemond knew he had to try…
———
“Princess. I have another item sent from the prince for you.” One of the maids said as she carefully approached your bed. The sun had already hit its peak that day, though you could not bring yourself to get out of bed. The only time you could bring yourself too was either with the help of your maids, or when Aemond sent a supposed gift to you which you’d immediately destroy.
“What is it this time?” You sigh. “Is it something that I am supposed to eat? Because if it is i’d like it if you took to the servants quarters and give it to them and not-“
“It’s not food related my princess. It’s a letter.” When you look towards the maid you can see the sad expression clear on her face. This maid has brought you many of Aemonds attempts at reconciliation.
“What is your name?” It does not give you any sort of pleasure when the maid looks shocked at the fact a princess is asking for the name of a maid. “Its not a trick question I want to know your name.”
“Klarisa my princess. My name is Klarissa.”
“Klarisa do you think I should read the letter my bastard of a husband as written to me?” You look carefully at Klarisas face, the decision of your lifetime hanging in a mere maids hands.
“To be honest with you my lady…” Klarisa takes a deep breath and puts on a sympathetic face. You appreciate that she wishes to give you honesty, though that sympathetic face makes you want to punch her. “What the prince did was inexcusable after the way the two of you acted before… her. You got to have a husband who loves you and cared for you, that itself is much more than most of the women who are forced into a marriage can hope for. The prince is trying to make up for it and is also respective your boundaries. Not many could say that they got to have a husband who did even one of those things. So yes my princess, I believe you should read the letter.” You take a deep breathe and loosen your hands, which seemed to have clenched so tightly your nails all but pierce into your palms.
“Give me the letter then leave. If you see the prince, do not tell him that you for once got me to think about even looking at his weak apologies. Just put your head down, and walk away. Do you understand Klarisa?”
“Yes my princess.” Klarisa moves swiftly to the doors to your chambers, opening it and moving forward, only to stop for a moment and turn on her heels towards to. “I hope you get what it is you seek my princess. For your own sake.” She turns back to the door and closes it behind her, leaving you alone with the letter in your hand which already feels like it’s burning you. Yet you prevail, and slowly open the letter to read it.
Dear ñuha jorrāelagon,
I will not waste my breath in attempting to gain your forgiveness. I know better than anyone that when you stick your mind to something you keep it that way. Though what I will say is the truth, which I know will hurt you and anger you more than anything but i know it’s what you wish to hear.
Alys was a woman I believed to be falling in love with. She was something what I believed I needed in my life. A woman to be docile and to whisper all the things I needed to hear in my ear. Though after your letter, it became my wake up. I cut off all contact with Alys after realising how much I hurt you. I regret that woman everyday I have not been with you. You are the only woman I need to be with. I love that you are not docile and will not take any man’s shit (as you so clearly and often tended to put it). I love that you challenge me and encourage the debates we so often hold. I love you Rhaella, more than any woman before in my life. I’m sorry it took another woman and the life of our child for me to realise it. I understand wholeheartedly if you wish to never speak to me again. But I hope with this letter, if you ever do decide to read this, which after all my other attempts seem unlikely, you at least know that there will not be a single day that I do not wish that I did not kill that woman when I killed all the other strongs. You are my life. My world. And I hope you know that.
From, Aemond Targaryen
You’ve never felt like you wanted to cry this much since you lost your sweet baby. You can feel the tears leaking down your face the entire time you read Aemonds words. Some of your tears drip onto the page, leaving some of the words to blur together into illegible blobs of black ink.
You feel the urge to destroy the letter. The same urge and desire you felt when you got into contact with all of Aemonds other gifts. Though you resist this time, and instead of destroying the letter, you smooth it out and place it delicately under the mass amounts of pillows that seem to always near take over your bed. That night, for the first night of the many you’d stayed in your room during your isolation period, you slept the whole night in your bed with no nightmares to wake you screaming.
———
When Aemond was standing in the corridor in the shadows and hadn’t picked up on any whispers from the maids passing him of any destruction or damage coming from your chambers, he assumed you must have kept the letter.
He does not hold though any hope that you read it. For all he knows you’ve simply just ignored it or ripped it and used it to keep your fire alight.
When he is waiting for the maid to come out of your room though, he could not help but feel hopeful when the maid takes longer than usual to come out of your room. “Well?” He asks as he steps from the shadows when the maid eventually comes out and nearly passes him. He does not dare to actually ask whether or not you took it. Even though he so selfishly wish to help hold her down and demand for
It surprises him and angers him when the maid looks at him and yet does not acknowledge him. What did you tell her? What does she know?
Aemond grabs the arm of the maid as she attempts to pass him without any real acknowledgment. “Your prince asked you a question.” He growls. He nearly felt sympathy for the woman when she looked at him with fear in her eyes. But he is not Aegon. He can control his desires towards the maids.
“The princess asked that I not speak to you. Please let go of my arm, my prince…” The maid half begs. Aemond lets go of her arm reluctantly after a moment of thinking. Why would you tell the maid to not talk to him? Maybe you really read the letter and do not wish to appear weak to him? Though only if you knew that you could never be weak in his eyes, his strong independent wife.
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chelseeebe · 1 year ago
Text
promise.
eddie knows about covering bruises and pretending to be fine all too well. but can he save the one woman he thinks he’s ever loved?
a/n: ok i’ve been a bit shit the last few weeks and this is genuinely the only thing i could conjure up but forewarning, it is sad and it does mention some pretty heavy topics that i know aren’t for everyone so i completely understand if u don’t want to read! my adhd riddled brain has already started a part two which does have a happy ending
title based on promise - ben howard i just thought it was a really lovely song and fits well with part two
read part two here.
18+. mdni! mentions of domestic violence, not explicitly described but the injuries are there and it is referred to multiple times throughout (eddie is not the perpetrator). smut. v much hurt/no comfort but not for long.
⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙
eddie is positively wrecked.
who would have ever guessed working in a shoddy, run-down bar would be so fucking tiring?
graham had said that if he picked up a few shifts at the hideout a week, then corroded coffin could play once a month. a guaranteed slot and he got paid? this was like heaven to him.
he just hadn’t expected the little bar to be so exhausting. he supposes that his lack of work experience and the fact he was used to doing sweet fuck all most of the time was to blame. that’s not his fault. not really. after finally graduating high school a year or so ago, he just hadn’t found any work in the tiny town.
on one particularly boring mid-week shift, eddie’s sat behind the bar doodling on the back of an old receipt, tapping his foot along to the kiss tune playing on the stereo. wouldn’t be his first choice but he’s not complaining.
‘you coming for a smoke?’ you exclaim suddenly, causing his head to jolt up, running the biro over his shitty drawing, ruining it completely.
‘uh.. then who would be on the bar?’ he utters, quickly hiding the doodle before you could judge it. not that he thinks you would, but just in case.
‘eddie, it’s dead,’ you say flatly, looking around at the empty tables.
truth be told, he hadn’t seen another soul bar from you and graham since he’d arrived which was odd for a thursday. assuming that the usual bums that lined the dusty old stools were otherwise engaged today. that or they just hadn’t been paid yet.
‘oh.. yeah, okay,’ he nods, hopping down from the stool and grabbing his jacket. you’re already gone, bounding off down the hall to the fire exit you all used for smoke breaks.
eddie’s still fairly new and very rarely got invited on the group breaks. which was fine, he just wished that you’d all take it in turns so that he could smoke too. he gets it though, like he talks enough but yet not enough to really make friends with any of you.
you’re leaning back against the brick wall, cigarette hanging from your lips, ‘you got a lighter?’
it’s not like he’d been staring or thought about it that much, but he’d noticed how breathtakingly beautiful you were on his second shift. okay, maybe that’s a lie. he’d thought about it a lot. but anyway, he’d been utterly in awe at the way you handled the drunks, brushed off their creepy comments and stood your ground no matter how angry or persistent they were being. he admired that and just wished that he had even a smidgen of the confidence you had.
he fumbles in his pocket for the lighter, clumsily handing it over before getting his own pack out. it feels wrong to look you in the eye, god that sounded pathetic. you were older, far cooler than he was and positively stunning. if he remembers correctly, you must’ve been a couple grades above him at school but had left long before he graduated.
‘thanks,’ passing the lighter back to him, fingers ever so slightly brushing against his. it’s like electricity sparks through his veins.
he really needs to get a grip.
‘you enjoyin’ it here?’ you ask, eyes intimidating as they bore into his.
‘it’s okay.. tiring though,’ he shrugs, trying his hardest to maintain eye contact despite his inability to look pretty girls in the eye.
‘yeah.. you’ll get used to it,’ you chuckle, the smoke flowing out of your lips perfectly. he’s so pathetically down bad for you and you have literally no idea.
‘how long have you worked here?’ longing to keep the conversation flowing.
‘shit.. too long,’ chuckling as you take another drag. eddie could listen to that sound all day. ‘i think i was eighteen when i started so..’ pretending to count on your fingers, ‘six years?’
eddie blows the air out of cheeks, he’s probably be in a similar position if he’d have just graduated when he was supposed to so he can’t exactly pass judgement.
‘i think we went to school together, i mean, you were a couple grades above me but i remember you,’ hoping that that didn’t sound as creepy out loud like it did in his head.
‘oh shit, really?’ your eyes narrow, trying to place him though it’s obviously not going to happen, ‘i don’t remember you.. i’m so sorry,’ playfully hitting his arm.
the connection is enough to keep his delusions going for at least another month.
‘it’s fine, didn’t think you would,’ not many people did to be honest. he tosses his cigarette into the overflowing makeshift ashtray, waiting for you to lead the way back inside.
‘hey, it was a long time ago, i’m old now!’ you joke, walking back through the dim hall back to the bar. he tries his hardest not to let his gaze slip to you ass but he swears it’s only for a second.
the bar’s still dead, the stereo now blaring out some madonna tune he hated.
‘ugh.. turn this one off,’ he mutters, mostly to himself as he repositions himself back on his perch.
‘what?’
‘i hate this song.’
your jaw drops in faux-offence, ‘i made this mixtape you asshole,’ going to shove him off of the stool, ‘i can’t believe you can’t drop the cool guy act for one second to appreciate some madonna,’ laughing as you start collecting glasses.
his frown turns into an immediate grin, begging for your forgiveness as he starts to bop his head along to the beat. it’s not like anyone would see him and hell, even if they did, he didn’t care. not if it made you smile.
-
‘holy fuck, you been fightin’ with the door again?’ james remarks, pulling eddie’s eyes from his paper to spot you rushing into the bar.
your head is ducked, flashing the older man your middle finger, disappearing into the back before eddie can properly get a glimpse of your face.
but he knows.
there’d been a handful of times that you’d come in wearing a massive sweater instead of your usual low-cut tops and when you reached for something high up, the sleeve would reveal just enough for him to see the dark blue marks on your wrist.
he’d never been sure, not until now. but his stomach drops the second his brain puts two and two together.
ditching the paper and that asshole james behind the bar to slink off into the back, approaching the tiny staff room with the upmost caution. it’d never be wise to start throwing accusations around but he’s not stupid. eddie had watching his mom go through the exact same shit for years. knew all the tricks in the book to cover up bruises, cried his heart out every time his mom went back to his asshole dad.
only god knows how many times he’d planned out his fathers death. anger brimming in his tiny body the second he heard raised voices.
he knocks gently on the door, watching as you hurriedly wipe the makeup onto your eye. it’s not doing much, in fact, it’s not doing anything at all. the purple shining through undeniably.
‘you okay?’ practically whispering as he enters the room, knocking the door shut behind him. james’ comment had meant that this obviously wasn’t the first time you’d come into work with such horrid markings.
you sigh, giving up on attempting to cover it, slamming the metallic compact back into your locker. ‘i’m okay.. i’m fine,’ refusing to turn and face him.
you’re obviously not okay and it hurts eddie to know that there’s absolutely nothing he can do to help. instead, he takes a seat on the communal bench, if nothing else, he’d lend his ear for whatever story you wanted to tell him.
‘what happened?’ he dares to ask, not expecting to know the truth but it felt better than silence.
you sniff, closing your locker and finally facing him head on. there’s pain and guilt wracked all over your face, ‘i’m just.. clumsy,’ shoulders slumping, ‘i tripped..’
‘clumsy?’
you were anything but. eddie had watched you balance trays full of glasses without spilling a single drop. maybe other people bought your story but he didn’t. he couldn’t.
there’s a short silence and eddie shuffles, patting the empty space beside him, ‘you don’t have to lie to me.’ he swallows his anger, lets it rest in his stomach for a later date. there’s no doubt that if he got the opportunity, he’d kill the asshole that did this to you.
you swallow, reluctantly perching on the bench, ‘why are you even asking when you already know?’ not quite meeting his eyes, staring off somewhere into the distance.
‘i don’t know.. didn’t wanna pressure you..’ he’s familiar with the whole routine. the denial from his mother had broken his heart at such a young age even though he wasn’t stupid.
you blink, meeting his eyes for the first time, ‘he didn’t mean to.. was my fault,’ wiping the back of your hand against your sodden cheeks.
even hearing the words makes him inexplicably frustrated. not with you of course, but with the fact that you can’t see how much you don’t deserve that.
‘i don’t think you could do anything to deserve that,’ motioning towards your blackened eye. he’s not going to push it but he needs you to know that he’s here and would quite happily wrap his hands around that bastards neck.
‘you know.. my dad used to hit my mom,’ swallowing the large lump that had gathered in his throat, but finds enough strength to continue, ‘she was the nicest lady in the world.. she didn’t deserve that and neither do you,’ licking his suddenly parched lips. it wasn’t an easy topic then and it certainly isn’t now.
he’s not particularly ever open about what happened to his mom but if it convinced you even a tiny bit to leave him, it’d be worth it.
there’s a beat, followed by a muffled sniff but you’re nodding, staring down at the grimy tiles rather than his face. eddie reckons that he’d be overstepping his mark if he did what he wanted and leant over to hug you. so he doesn’t. putting a sympathetic hand on your shoulder instead.
‘you’re an angel, you know that?’ the hints of a smile creeping onto your lips.
‘yeah i know,’ he scoffs, bashing his shoulder into yours, only gently.
‘shut up,’ knocking him straight back.
you get up from the bench, puffing your cheeks out as you take one last look into the mirror.
it’s a gut-wrenching, awful sight and god forbid eddie has to ever see you like that again.
-
perhaps rather naively, eddie assumes everything is fine for the next few weeks.
understandably, you’re a bit subdued for a few days but you do revert back to your usual bubbly self come friday evening. no more bruises, no more groaning when you change the keg and absolutely zero mention of your wretched boyfriend.
so when he pulls into his gravel driveway one gloomy saturday night, he’s aghast to see you perched on his trailer steps. blinking through his headlights, soaked through from the rain with a busted lip and a torn shirt to match.
he near enough launches himself from his van, rushing over to your hunched over frame. damn near falling over his feet to get to you.
‘what the hell happened?’
you stand, clinging onto your poorly packed rucksack, ‘i.. i didn’t know where else to go,’ utterly defeated, any traces of life drained from your face.
he doesn’t say another word, bundling you into the trailer, slamming the lights on to get a proper look of you. his hands firmly on your drenched shoulders as he examines your injuries. your lip is cracked, the blood had wept from the cut and dried on your chin.
it’s awful. knocks him sick just to see you like this. your cheeks are stained with a mixture of rain and he presumes tears, hair hanging limp around your beautiful face.
‘what happened?’ he says softly, studying your face. he notices the small gash on your forehead, using everything within himself not to storm out of that door in a murderous rage.
your mouth opens but no words come out. it’s not as if he can’t put two and two together, he just doesn’t understand how it got to this point after last week.
‘it’s okay.. c’mon let’s get you out of these clothes,’ he blinks, collecting himself before taking your sopping wet bag. the clothes had all suffered in the downpour, damp and unwearable.
so he leads you into his cramped room, hastily rummaging through his drawers for something you can wear.
it’s a little self-indulgent and completely the wrong time but his heart flutters when you reappear out of the bathroom sporting his tee and a pair of old gym shorts. now showered and without the blood stains on your face, it’s a welcome sight.
‘better?’ he offers, though he knows a shower could never really help.
you nod, pulling the sleeves down over your hands. it’s so adorable and eddie seriously has to fight his compulsion to just pull you into his arms. he knows there’s no way he can protect you from everything but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.
‘you want a drink? beer?’
your eyes light up, a minuscule smirk appearing on your battered lips. he’s sure wayne would understand why he came home to a non-existent six pack. the berating would be worth it to see you smile again.
he collapses onto the couch next to you, beer in hand as he watches you slowly relax. delighted that he could offer a safe space for you, even if it did come with some very complicated feelings.
that night, admittedly very creepily, he watches as you sleep. terrified to fall asleep in his makeshift bed on the floor in case you needed him.
-
at some point in the last two weeks, eddie had gone from sleeping on the floor to sleeping in his bed next to you. you’d told him it was far too cold for him on the floor and he should just get in. which he did, with great pleasure. there was nothing to it of course, but a few times he’d woken up to your leg entangled with his or your face pressed against his back.
everything had just got a whole lot more comfortable. rides to work, cooking for one another and some shared looks that he’d been unable to put his finger on. not wanting to believe they had any deeper meaning but at the same time, he knew that that wasn’t how friends looked at each other.
it’s a rare night you both have off, sat in the trailer watching halloween, neither of you really interested in what’s going on on the screen. there’s an inexplicable tension in the air tonight, you’re quieter than usual which eddie doesn’t like.
‘you okay?’ he dares to ask. he’d felt a little overbearing those first few days, constantly checking on you to make sure you were okay.
‘hmm? oh, i’m okay,’ setting your bottle of beer on the table, ending up much closer to him when you sit back.
‘you sure? you’re quiet,’ keen not to let on that he was absolutely buzzing about your close proximity.
‘just thinking.’
‘about?’
you let out a soft breath, twisting around to look at him fully. the only times he’d been this close to you were in bed where he laid and listened to your soft snores and when you’d been covered in injuries. neither one were exceptionally great circumstances.
‘you,’ you blink up at him, smiling just enough to make his heart skip a beat.
‘me?’ he can’t decipher whether that’s a good thing or not.
‘mhm.’
‘what about me?’
you don’t respond for what feels like an eternity but your gaze lowers, glancing at his lips and back to his eyes. if he weren’t staring directly into your bright eyes, he’d have missed it.
‘i really want to kiss you,’ you say, so brazenly that eddie’s not quite sure if he’s heard you correctly, almost sputtering on his breath as the words process.
‘you.. you wanna kiss me?’ trying hard not to sound so astounded. pretty girls didn’t want to kiss eddie, not like this.
you nod, ‘can i?’
there are stars in his eyes, blood pumping around his limbs at an alarming rate. his head is fuzzy and if he weren’t sitting, he’d probably have fainted.
‘please,’ he chokes, desperately forcing the word out before it becomes impossible.
your palms are soft as they caress his cheek, wishing that he’d shaved before this had unfolded. his heartbeat stutters, bubbling with anticipation as you lean in, gentle lips locking onto his as his eyes flutter shut.
this is it. he’d dreamt of kissing you for weeks, practiced on his hand an embarrassing amount of times and yet still nothing could’ve prepared him for how earth shattering this felt. his heart is practically jumping out of his chest and he’s sure you can feel it thumping against yours.
it’s as if fate had bought the two of you together, moving against each other in perfect harmony. if he died tomorrow, he’d die a happy man.
your hand creeps down onto his chest, holding yourself upright as you shift onto your knees. do you want to have sex with him? is this actually happening? his fingertips vibrate as they connect with your waist, like you weren’t even real and just a figment of his overactive imagination.
the second your lips part from his, he wants to cry, pull you back in and never let go. the absence of contact makes him whine, opening his eyes to see yours gazing back, they look different. different to how you’ve ever looked at him before, full of something unspeakable.
‘do you want to?’ you ask quietly into the minimal space between you.
eddie wants to so bad, more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. nodding hurriedly to let you know just how eager he is. there’s not a chance in hell he’d let this opportunity slip through his fingers.
your lips twitch into a smile at his permission, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt.
but before you get any further, the trailer door clicks open and wayne is stood in the doorway, pizza box in hand accompanying his unimpressed scowl. ‘okay well, i think that’s enough of that,’ he grumbles, shuffling into the trailer as you climb off eddie’s lap, back into your own spot.
‘sorry wayne.. i didn’t know you were back so early,’ his cheeks burning, bashful as ever. it wasn’t enough for wayne to walk in on that but he was always now straining against his jeans, trying desperately to hide the tent while you reshuffle, pulling your shorts back down to a more appropriate length.
‘yeah yeah whatever,’ his uncle shakes his head, trundling over to the couch and tossing the box onto the cluttered coffee table, ‘move over boy, i wanna watch my programme,’ collapsing into the empty seat beside his nephew with a deep, guttural sigh.
the two of you share a sly smirk, tuning in to whatever shit wayne had put on without saying another word. stifling your laughter with a piece of pizza as eddie tries and fails to discretely pull a pillow onto his lap.
it’s hours later when you both crawl into bed and eddie has checked five times that wayne’s actually asleep before he gets to kiss you again.
bundled up under the covers when you pull him on top of you, your face gloriously basked in the bright moonlight shining in. it’s breathtaking.
‘you want to?’ you ask again, as if his answer had changed in those few hours.
he nods, his curls brushing fall down and brush against your cheek, ‘have you.. before?’ you ask cautiously. he’s not offended, even if he should be.
he has had sex before. only twice. when ellen had first joined hellfire, they had sorta had a year long fling which had ended after they had sex and ellen realised that maybe she didn’t actually like men. that was a super boost to his confidence. and then at senior prom when tina took great pity on him and somehow they ended up having sex in the back of his van.
he nods anyway, granted he’s not the most experienced but he’ll sure as hell try.
‘good,’ you smile, warm thighs wrapping around his torso as you reconnect your lips. it’s soft, gentle even. world’s apart from his previous encounters. this felt real, like you weren’t just kissing because you had to but because you wanted to.
it’s too cold in the trailer to care about removing your clothes, though he’s sure that’ll change in a minute. focussing on getting his tongue inside of your mouth, rutting against your pajama shorts. the friction causing his already semi-hard dick to rise, unable to contain the moan from escaping.
a smirk flashes across his face as his hand drags your shorts down your legs, savouring every moment of being able to touch your bare, supple skin. his hand makes its way back up your legs, repositioning the one he could grasp back around his lower back.
he has trouble getting his boxers down, too excited to focus on being smooth about it. appreciating the feel of your hand tugging the fabric down. you’re barely kissing at this point, your lips connecting with the corner of his mouth, all messy as the anticipation takes over.
‘you sure?’ he asks, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. he could just about remember what to do. sending a quick prayer upstairs to not let him be utterly useless.
‘i’m sure,’ you breathe, the feel of your fingers tangled into the hair that covered the back of his neck.
‘okay..’ he nods, mostly to himself as he wraps a head around his cock, positioning himself at your entrance. taking a brief moment to just capture this moment in preparation of it never happening again.
the pleasure overcomes his body as he slides in, already almost losing himself as he fills you up. a soft moan escapes your lips, gripping onto his neck. he is acutely aware that his uncle is asleep on the other side of the old trailer so he muffles his face into your neck, lips connecting with your jaw bone, kissing any and every bit of skin exposed to him.
sex had never felt like this before. at best, it had felt slightly better than when he jerked off, but this was something else. eddie knows it’s cliche and is definitely only because you feel so fucking good around him, but it’s as if you were made for each other.
hands pressed into the pillow so hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if there were a permanent dent either side of your head. using everything within himself not to start hollering, eyes fluttering shut against your neck. he moves in and out at an agonisingly slow pace. the small room filling with the sounds of your soaking wet cunt. its undeniable to anyone with ears and he just hopes to god that wayne is still asleep.
his own low groans vibrating against your cheek, mouth hanging open as his thrusts grow faster. you’re panting softly directly into his ear, spurring him on. despite the feel of your perfect cunt around him, the best feeling is knowing that he’s making you feel good.
‘h-holy shit,’ he mumbles nonsensically into the crook of your neck, not allowing himself to come for air because he know that the second he looks at your face, he’ll cum.
your one hand is splayed out on his upper back, the other holding onto his sweaty neck beneath his mop of hair. whining his name into his ear, driving him into a frenzy with the sound of your breathy voice, desire rippling through your moans. he should tell you to be quiet but that’d be cruel and he’d rather take the shame of wayne knowing than not hearing you.
your legs shift higher the position allowing him to reach the golden spot, nudging the soft, spongy spot over and over. eddie figures you’re far more experienced than he is. with no offence meant to you but you obviously know what works. this is new territory for him, a closeness that he’d never known possible.
you’re engulfing him completely, every single one of his senses encompassed by you. you’re all he can see even with his eyes screwed shut, all he can hear, taste and smell. god knows you’re all he can feel, calves squeezing around his back and your perfect pussy tightening around him.
he groans, feeling his stomach begin to twist in that all too familiar feeling. orgasms had never felt so good, it’s like everything was dialled up to level ten. ‘i’m gonna.. shit- i’m gonna come,’ he babbles far too loudly.
every noise tumbling out of your mouth was pulling him closer, no record could ever come close to the sweet mewls that were slipping between your lips. his arms begin to tremble under his own weight. feeling your legs quivering around his waist as your orgasm begins to overtake your body, sinful noises echoing around the otherwise quiet trailer.
‘ohh fuck,’ he growls, feeling your walls clenching around him, it was like he’d been pushed over the edge. the only way he can begin to describe it was otherworldly, flashes of white light illuminate his eyelids.
images of your face accompany your honeyed whimpers and he has to pull out before he explodes. spurts of his release cover his hand and admittedly the back of your thigh. if he had any semblance of control, he’d have been embarrassed but he’s not exactly sure that he’s still on planet earth.
he dares to open his eyes, watching as your chest heaves below him clinging onto his forearm with desperate fingertips. you’re looking up at him as if he’s the only person you’d ever seen. mouth slack as you regain your breath.
‘jesus christ,’ he whispers, hand resting on your angled knee as he floats back down to your planet.
eddie clambers off of the bed with a grunt, wiping a hand over his sweaty face. reaching down to grab his previously discarded towel. it wasn’t the epitome of romance but he darent to leave his room, petrified that wayne had just heard that entire encounter.
he’s a gentleman, of course, running the towel over your thigh to clean his mess. offering you a tiny shrug as if to say sorry. rather suddenly he feels rather conscious of himself, refusing to look at you as his cheeks flame.
it’s ridiculous. he’d just been buried between your legs and yet now couldn’t even look you in the fucking eyes.
before he gets up again, your hand reaches out, curling around his t-shirt. ‘stop,’ using his shirt as leverage for you to sit up.
in one quick movement, you’re placing a tiny onto his lips. a reassurance he really shouldn’t have needed but he appreciates nonetheless.
‘don’t do that,’ you hush, millimetres from his face, the shadow of his broken blinds shine upon your cheek. it hurts him to know that someone would dare look at you and want to hurt you.
if it were possible, he’d take all of your pain and carry it with him instead.
‘okay..’ he nods, resisting the urge to apologise once again.
you giggle and it sounds like the heavens have opened, pulling his body on top of yours as his bed makes an almighty squeak. if wayne wasn’t already awake, he certainly would be now.
-
eddie doesn’t know where the fuck you are.
you hadn’t come back to the trailer after work last night and now you’re nowhere to be found. you were supposed to start half an hour ago but hadn’t turned up and now his heart is pounding, mind racing at the horrific possibilities of what could’ve happened.
at first, he’d thought maybe he said something wrong? he’d just thrown out the suggestion of going to get the rest of your things and moving them in here while you got back on your feet. he hadn’t meant to push you out, god no, that was the last thing he wanted.
maybe stupidly he had presumed you wanted your own space. whatever the hell was going on between you two was so fresh, he didn’t want to even chance fucking it up.
the guilt wracks his brain, tempted to drop everything to drive around this tiny town looking for you. he’s so stupid. should’ve just kept his mouth shut and enjoyed it while you were there.
he’s just about to tell james that he’s leaving when the door to the bar opens and a rough looking man comes through with you held tightly underneath his arm. your eyes avoiding his direction, staring at the floor as the mystery man ushers you towards the back, making himself comfortable at the bar.
eddie’s heart shatters into a million pieces, watching open mouthed as you disappear into the back.
judging by the look on james’ face, he recognises him, reluctantly pouring his beer as they engage in useless small talk.
‘thought i’d better sit in for her shift.. wouldn’t want her running off again,’ the man announces, beady eyes glaring right into his soul.
eddie knows who he is. he’d never seen him before but he could tell. they all had that sinister aura about them, like they could flip at any given moment. his dad was the same, walking on egg shells around him just in case he said the wrong thing or looked at him the wrong way.
you emerge from the staff room, still vehemently avoiding eye contact, a shell of the you he saw just yesterday. ‘hey.. you okay?’ eddie asks, but it falls flat as you walk off without so much as a look back towards him.
he can’t believe it, how you could be so different so quickly. as if the past few weeks you’d spent together had meant nothing. he can’t blame you. not really. it’s a cycle and he knows better than anyone that it takes a thousand attempts to actually break out of it.
his shoulders slump as he rushes out the back, refusing to look at that assholes face any longer. willing himself to get a grip and not jump over that bar to strangle the piece of shit right now.
a hand clamps down on his shoulder and for a brief moment he thinks he might be you until james clears his throat, shuffling on his feet behind him, ‘you can’t save her man,’ squeezing his shoulder firmly, ‘you think we haven’t tried?’
eddie sniffs, shrugging him off. he didn’t appreciate the patronising tone in which james was speaking to him.
because god knows, if he couldn’t save his mom, there’s no fucking chance he’s not saving you.
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igotanidea · 8 months ago
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Test ride: Jason Todd x reader preview
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Guys! I might be back from the dead! With a bleeding heart and tired mind, but with a few ideas up my sleeve :)
***
One thing about her was sure.
She was unbribeable.
And that was something in Gotham.
And I s'pose a vigilante, even Batman himself, can use a little help from a lawyer sometimes, right?
And clearly, one day, councellor Y/N Y/L/N got so tired of working with her ordinary cases, that she started aimlessly wandering across the Gotham's alleys.
Or maybe it was some sick self-destructive instincts. (pretty similar to someone else's if you ask me...).
The point was, Batman jumped in, saved her ass, yadda, yadda, yadda.
And she got his attention.
A few weeks later, Tim's style, she figured out his real identity. And therefore, joined the team. (subjecting Bruce to merciless teasing from the batkids, mocking him with the all-familiar phrase "do not involve civilians in the bussiness).
Obviously, Y/N was not a front-line fighter, but sidelines worked quite well for her as she focused on lawyering, cracking cases like walnuts and providing intel and insight.
But even with a new purpose, she was still lonely.
And the fate had it, that Jason Todd was bored.
And with his snarking, teasing uptake on things, drive to danger and the pressing urge to keep his shit under control, in which the current state of mind was not helping - he made her a proposition.
"Hey Y/N, you know what?" he called her casually one day after all the batkids, Jason included, miraculously found themselves in the batcave.
"Not a mind reader" she responded mockingly in a singing tone.
"Good for you" Jason immediately matched her tone "you wouldn't last a minute in my head, sunshine."
"Is that an invitation or a challenge Mr Todd?"
"A challenge. But in a different way than you might think."
"Well then, I;m all ears." she turned to face him, purposefully leaning a bit too close, to take this whole thing up a notch.
"We are both screwed..." he started
"Objection!"
"Overruled." he rolled his eyes "my deal is, since we are both fucked up, we might as well share the mental disease."
"huh?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, not understanding a single word, but fairly convinced that the Lazarus water finally ate his brain out completely.
"You're alone-"
"well thanks for pointing that out, since I had like five minutes of break from thinking about it-"
" -and I'm bored, so how about we keep each other entertained and take each other for a test drive?"
Y/N almost choked with her own saliva, her eyes popping out as she started caughing looking a freaking frog, even going a little green on the face.
"The hell Jason!?"
"Shit, I swear it sounded better in my head!"
"It should have never left your head!"
"It's not my fault you keep reading into the words too much!"
"I'm a lawyer! The hell were you thinking!?"
"Oh, I;m sorry for believing that under all that all and mighty professional armour you might be a human!"
"You're a freaking hypocrite, you know that?"
Jason sighed in frustration and run hand through his hair.
"Look all I meant was that we fill the gaps we're missing."
"So you'll act like my arm candy and I'll be your personal clown?"
"You don't even have to try much, do you?" he smirked
"I swear one more word out your mouth and the only entertainment you'll get will be a kick in the ass."
"I guess ending in hospital after such attempt would resolve your loneliness problem as well."
"Jerk."
"I'm serious Y/N. What do you have to loose?"
"Dignity, self-integrity, sound mind..." she started counting
"ok, okay, fine, I get it!" he raised both hands up, stopping her chant "but - it can also be fun. And if you keep refusing I might think you're chickening out."
"Oh! so it's not a challenge. It's a dare of which one of us will go insane first?"
"Something like that. Scared?"
"huh! you wish! you're the walking dead!"
"So, do we have a deal?"
"Yeah, we have a deal." she smirked and reached her hand towards him.
They shooke them, loooking into each other's eyes, getting mentally prepared for quite a lot of fun, even if neither was willing to say it outloud.
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