#I think now I need to stop thinking about it and go to bed
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samah-h · 3 days ago
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A Confession from the Heart of Suffering: An Unbearable Reality
I hope you read my confession, and thank you. This is the reality of all the people of Gaza.
Whenever I think of the life we used to have before the genocide, I have to struggle to hold my tears so I don't cause my children more pain than what they already feel. Our life, then, was neither easy nor perfect but it was full of warmth and the simple joy of being together under one roof .
We have never felt completely free because we have always been under a siege that has only gotten worse during this war but at least we felt somewhat safe and we had quite a decent life with the means that we were allowed.What kept us going was our belief that the future might be brighter one day.
Unfortunately, there seems to be no better tomorrow for us anymore. Nothing remains of our previous lives but rubble and memories, and the future is so bleak and full of uncertainties.It's not just the walls of our house that were turned into ruins, it's our hopes and dreams that were reduced to ashes. Now, we only dream of things that might seem so trivial to other people around the world like being able to sleep in and wake up in a comfortable bed or having a meal without standing for it in line for hours.
We dream of having enough clean drinking water so we don't have to worry about dying of thirst. We dream of the days we had a home with a regular kitchen and stove, the days we could celebrate special occasions with family in peace. Above all, we dream of not losing the people we love in a split second and of living safely and with dignity.
Instead, we have been wrongfully sentenced to a life of fear, displacement, and humiliation beyond belief. It is a living nightmare here now. Everything needed to ensure the bare minimum of decency and normalcy is denied to us. As you well know, there is no safe place in Gaza anymore and We are deprived of simple rights like having having a roof over our heads or enjoying some peace of mind for even one single day. The airstrikes and the buzzing of drones almost never stop. We live with a very real sense of impending doom day and night.
The water and food scarcity are only getting worse with time. Even regular chores like cooking or doing the laundry have become true challenges. I cannot propely bathe my children because the little water we get is polluted and their sensitive baby skin keeps getting irritated.
Before the war, my nine- year-old daughter was so picky about which outfits to wear; it made me laugh that she acted that way at her age but now we don't even have enough warm clothes for the winter. It kills me each time she says she doesn't need fancy clothes anymore and only wants to feel warm and go back to school. What makes it worse is our tent has recently been flooded by rain.
The whole camp turned into a swamp overnight. The children woke up soaked, shivering and terrified. It was almost impossible to calm them down as the rain kept pouring. We are doing our best but even if we succeed in finding the treatment, it's going to cost almost a fortune. This is why we need your support even more now.
All we do now is fight for survival every day. I never imagined,even in my darkest nightmares, that I would be searching high and low to put food in my children's mouths and keep them warm or that I would be begging the world to literally save their lives but I have no other choice now.
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Despite the unbearable suffering we're daily going through, I still believe in humanity. please keep us in your prayers and help us anyway you can. Donate if you're able to,reblog and share our story as widely as you can.We are grateful to each and every one of you
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madaqueue · 3 days ago
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EPISODE 3: A TASTE OF HONEY IN DEFEAT
satoru thought he would have no problem winning a bet he proposed, but a month is too long to go without a taste of anything this sweet.
themes/content: smut. edging, handjobs, mean-ish dom!reader, satoru being whiney lmao, premature ejaculation + he cums inside, light bondage (satoru receiving). (wk: 2.1k)
a/n: this is part of @luv-lies no-nut-november collab!!! so excited to have been a part of this, hope you all enjoy >:3
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“You know I trust you, but don’t you think the ropes are a bit much?” Satoru giggles as you tighten the final knot around his wrists, shoulders bulging and arms stretched overhead.
“I know you trust me - it’s you I’m worried about, ‘Toru.”
“What, worried I won’t be able to keep my hands off you?” The smirk painting his features veers into a grimace as he winces, straining against the tightening rope.
“No. I’m worried you won’t be able to keep your hands off yourself.”
Pink lips draw into a pout. “Aw c’mon, you know I’ll be good! I’m the one who made this bet in the first place, remember?”
You hum as you tug his hands down, testing the strength of the woven cerulean adorning his skin. The headboard shakes with the movement.
“And yet, you were so willing to break the rules.”
It had been quite a sight, truly - your dear Satoru, splayed across the bed, whimpers and moans falling from his lips like honeyed rain. They landed heavy in your ears, sticky and sweet. When the door creaked open, he made no effort to stop the fervent motions of his fist up and down his cock. He was flushed from head to toe, too lost in his own pleasure to recognize the sound of your footsteps approaching. It was only when your hand rested atop his that he jerked up, clouded eyes turning apologetic.
“I know I wasn’t supposed to, I know, I just couldn’t wait-” he had babbled.
“It’s okay,” you purred, rubbing soothing circles into his skin. “But you knew the deal, remember? I’m the only one allowed to touch you this month, right, Satoru?”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry-”
“And how close you were to cumming, too.”
“I wasn’t going to, I swear-”
You hummed and squeezed his base, earning a gasp. “You know it’s not good to lie, either. Remember, you made this bet, sweetheart. Were you really so willing to throw it all away? To lose?”
“I wasn’t going to lose, I promise, I just needed something-”
He was getting worked up, panicked thoughts racing through his mind. He braced on his forearms to sit up, but with a purposeful push you guided him back onto the sheets.
“It’s okay, my love. If my poor baby is so needy, I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you something.”
His eyes widened when you pulled the ropes from under the bed, eyeing him like your next meal, a starving predator ready to pounce. And here was your prey, so ready for the taking, offering himself to you as a good piece of meat should.
And now, he’s tied up like one, too.
“I wasn’t even going to break the rules,” he whines impatiently.
Sitting back, you admire your work: your strong, determined Satoru spread and waiting. Trailing a finger down his stomach, his skin burns hot in its wake.
“That’s certainly not what it looked like to me.”
“I-”
“Because to me, it looked like you couldn’t handle going even a month without touching this needy little cock of yours.”
He pouts. “I’m not little,” he huffs.
A giggle bubbles from the back of your throat, bouncing past your lips.
“And besides, I can handle it, I swear! I made it almost the whole month, I did, I just-”
Tilting your head, you gaze down at him. “What, got too desperate? Poor Satoru, ‘The Strongest,’ couldn’t even follow the rules of a bet he made?”
Blue flashes against white as he rolls his eyes. One hand ruffles his hair, cooing down at him.
“It’s okay, baby, I’ll make you beg to break this silly little bet of yours.”
“Whatever,” he scoffs, hiding the way pink creeps up his neck and decorates his cheeks, stained like flower petals. He’s soft like them, too.
A light chuckle lands in the air when your palm grazes up his length. He twitches in your hold, warm skin on warm skin.
“H-hah, see?” His mouth hangs open between the words. “Told you I could handle it.”
It’s gentle touches at first, to ease him into it: slow strokes, light fingers. And yet, he’s still wrapping his throat around whimpers.
“Aw baby, I haven’t even done anything yet.”
Your lips curl into a smile, breath hot behind them. The words come out syrupy, dripping in sugar (and Satoru has always had a sweet tooth). His stomach aches in hunger - hunger for your hands, your body, your control. Whatever you plan to do to him, he’ll swallow it whole, bigger and bigger bites until his cheeks swell and all he can taste is you.
The grip around his base tightens, running up and down. Something about your skin is so much softer than his, untainted by the cruelty he lives through, only dirtied by desire. It spreads over his skin, glistening white and sticky.
When whines begin to twist through the silence, his eyelashes fluttering to bat away the impending tears, he doesn’t have to say it - he’s close.
Just as his muscles begin to tense, you rip your hand away.
There’s a choked little cry he lets out, hurt like an animal you spared from death. One that was ready for it, for the warmth and comfort it provided.
“Why’d you stop?” His voice is strained already, a high-pitched draw across his vocal cords. His eyes are sparkling and wet.
A peck to his cheek sends shivers down his spine. “Because you’re not supposed to finish, remember, silly? I’m just helping you hold up your end of the bet, after all.”
A sound like untuned violins, haunting and beautiful all the same, plays from his throat. You giggle at the music.
“C’mon, Toru - you wanted this, remember?”
“I know,” he grumbles, scrunching his nose. “Fine, fine, do whatever you want.”
You smile.
(You would have anyways)
Your gaze falls upon the aquamarine rope, the matching eyes, before trailing back down his steadying chest.
It stutters when your fingers trace up the veins of his cock.
It heaves when you cup a palm around his balls.
You squeeze.
“F-fuck,” he groans, hips lifting off the bed.
There’s a word living at the tip of his tongue, its shape burning into his mouth.
Harder.
Luckily, you know your Satoru - you know what he thinks, feels, wants. And as a lover should, you happily oblige.
The sound he makes is garbled and choked, utter nonsense. It came straight from the depths of his body, a pure animalistic response, one he couldn’t have controlled if he tried.
Already, he’s beginning to tremble in your palm - it’s getting easier to do this, make him shake like a lost leaf floating through the autumn air, held captive by the gusts of your wind. Up and down, he travels with you, because of you.
Again, you pull your hand away.
Again, he whines.
“Noooo,” he mumbles, more to himself than anything. It was automatic, the expression of displeasure, ripped from him with the loss of your warmth on his.
“What’s wrong baby? You want me to stop?” It’s more fun when he has an out, when he could say no and chooses not to. When he wants this just as badly as you. “You know you-”
“No.” It's more breath than sound. “No, please. Keep going.”
And as a lover should, you happily oblige.
Precum drips down his length, covering him in remnants of desire. They cling to his skin like silky webs, woven from devotion and need. Each slick pump of your hand up and down creates more and more and more, a beautiful pearl at his slit forming one moment only to be spread by your circling thumb in the next.
Each time you reach his base, you squeeze. Each time you reach his tip, you twist. In this dance you both twirl and breathe and feel in beat, holding on to one another with sweaty hands and tired muscles.
“Remember, you can give up whenever you want,” you coo, the sweet glue of a trap.
But Satoru doesn’t dare taste, doesn’t dare step inside - he knows better.
(Right?)
“I’m not - fuck - giving up.” He tries to throw you a smile, but it lands at your feet.
Fists clench into each other, nails digging into his palms. You almost feel bad, the way he’s beginning to writhe within the ropes. It must hurt, you think, the texture soft but never soft enough - it’s nothing compared to you. In spite of his anguish, he knows better than to give up this easily. You haven’t even really begun, not yet.
When his eyelashes flutter closed, you know to pull your hand away.
He’s getting more subtle, the only sign of his impending pleasure a soft flicker of white and blue. But you recognize it, of course - his pleasure lives everywhere in him. In the way his breath catches, in the way his skin burns hot, in the way he gets all too loud or all too quiet.
There’s barely a sound this time. Instead, he just frowns, displeasure spreading across his sweet features. His lower lip sticks out, and he stares at you with cloudy eyes.
“I know, baby, I know. But this is what it takes if you want to win.”
The words don’t ease the growing ache in his core, but your voice does. Every vowel blurs the pain, every consonant gives him something to cling to. He’ll climb himself out of insanity on your breath.
Again, you wrap around him and drag him closer to the edge. Unable to pull his gaze away, he stares down it, looming, waiting. The free fall must feel nice, the wind against his skin, for a moment before he hits the ground. But with a firm hand on the back of his head, you just hold him there. It’ll be his choice whether he decides to jump. Or rather, when he decides to jump.
Another choked groan leaks from his lips when you pause. There are no words left for him to say, nothing but the agony of desire. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as if it’ll make the leap any less tempting.
Hushed whispers, not quite praise, tingle his mind. Little hums of “I know,” or “there, there,” dance from your throat, and he writhes.
Distress always looked so pretty on him. Pretty tears, pretty red cheeks, pretty pouts and pretty cries. Perhaps it’s a curse that he looks like a fallen angel when he weeps - if he looked more grotesque, you wouldn’t feel the urge to bring him back into the jaws of pain.
But he lets you comfort him nonetheless, preen his wings and kiss his tears.
This time, when you stop, he thrashes. His skin burns, crisp like it had been warmed by the sun for too long. Everything is too tight, his hands, his arms, his shoulders, his stomach. They need to be loosened; they need to be released.
“Please.”
It’s so quiet, it’s almost not a word, just little sounds from his tongue.
“What was that, baby? I couldn’t quite hear you.”
Tears stream from glossy eyes when he looks at you. His lips quiver as he speaks.
“Please, I wanna cum. Please.”
The smile spreading across your face is cold and knowing; he looks beautiful as he falls.
“I know you want to, but-”
“I lose.” He’s panting, gasping through the plea. “I lose, I give up, I don’t care, just, please.”
Hot tears melt beneath your thumb as you swipe them away. His mouth hangs open, as though he could swallow the air, hold it inside him and let that ease the aching. But the only thing that can help him now is you, the only thing he can stomach.
“Okay, baby. I’ll take care of you.”
A loose smile flows across his face, easy like gentle waves lapping at the corners of his thoughts. The sentence itself barely makes sense to him at this point, garbled in his lust-clouded mind. But he knows you’ll help him now; he welcomes the push over the edge.
Straddling his lap, you guide him to your entrance. Sticky and hot, he presses into you. Just as his tip enters your warmth, he hurls himself into the wind.
Everything in his body trembles, muscles tightening and contracting out of time. Eyelashes flutter, whimpers dance like petals as he comes undone.
The only thing he can do is twitch inside of you, pearly strings pulsing with each erratic breath.
Finally, he opens his eyes to find you smiling. Warm lips press along his cheeks, dried tears salty on your tongue.
“Well, you certainly lost this time,” you hum, resting your forehead against his; he looks at you like you created the earth itself, your breath in the wind and your heartbeat in the sun. “But there’s always next year, right?”
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nochepsicodelica · 2 days ago
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It's two in the morning and you're knocking on your own front door after a night out with your friends. Your mind has been occupied by static, not allowing you to remember that you have a key to let yourself in, so you stand there alone, waiting to be let in. You plant your hand on the wall to keep yourself balanced, looking left and right to see if anybody or any car is looking at you as they pass by.
Just as you're about to knock, again, the door opens and you flinch, your other hand flying to the wall to remain steady on your feet. You look up at your man with warped vision, blinking a little to try and clear your view of him. You can't contain your laughter when you see the stern look on Toji's face, his green eyes laced with concern you can't process in this state.
"What the fuck..." Toji mutters, to himself. What kind of friends would just drop you off without making sure that you get inside your house, safely? It's late. Who knows how long you had been standing there before you knocked. Anyone could have snatched you away.
Toji will catch you. You know he'll catch you if you just lean forward into him, like a backwards trust fall, so you set the plan in motion. You drag your feet and move your hands along the wall until you're in the safe zone, and then you just fall forward.
"Woah, hey." He's quick to hold you up against him, to prevent you from sliding down his body and to the floor. "Hey, you good? Talk to me. Can you walk?" Toji doesn't receive much of a response from you. Just quiet little giggles and incoherent mumbles. He sighs and picks you up, draping you over his shoulder. The door is shut and locked, before he makes his way to the bedroom. The light is already on, because he was awake the entire time, awaiting your arrival. Toji sets you down on the bed and briefly sits on the edge, by your feet.
"You didn't answer my calls, and I texted you like twenty times." He lifts your feet and takes their place, before setting them down on his lap so that you are comfortable. His fingers make haste of undoing the buckles on your high heels and he sets the shoes down, placing them under the bed.
You simply hum in response, not entirely sure of how you got to the room. The light is so bright and it's irritating your eyes, making it hard for you to hold them open.
"Told you to let me know if you needed me to pick you up, dummy." Toji wraps his hands around one of your ankles, his fingers kneading with little pressure, incase the area is tender.
"N-Nooo, i'm... here. Here," you babble.
It's so frustrating to be unable to get a full explanation out of you, right now. Your responses are borderline illogical and it's not doing Toji any good. He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He can't calm down, after he spent the last few hours wondering why you stopped responding to him and why you weren't answering his calls. To open the door and instantly get a whiff of your night out was enraging, not because you got extremely intoxicated, but because there was no one looking out for you by the end of your time out.
Toji understands that there is no point in digging into this, now. You can't even walk or see straight, so he settles for making simple conversation that you can easily digest.
"Did your phone die or something?"
You shake your head, side to side, and his blood boils all over again. This was supposed to be an easy conversation, but he was just so damn worried. His entire body is tense with concern.
"Fuck." He sighs, nodding slightly at your response. "Yeah, okay."
A few seconds of silence go by and Toji thinks you may have fallen asleep, but then you speak up, out of nowhere, again.
"Took lots of pictures..." you mumble, eyes closed as you dig into your pocket for your phone. Once it's in your hand, you toss it on the bed for Toji to grab. He puts your massage on hold and picks up your phone, unlocking it and going to your photo gallery, where immediately, he sees previews of the pictures of you and those so called "friends" who abandoned you on your doorstep. The only reason he cares for those group photos is because you're smiling widely, seemingly laughing, and overall looking extremely happy in every one of them, but as much as he loves the look on your face in those, he loves the pictures you took of yourself and the ones your friends took of you, more. Some you had already sent to him, others he hadn't seen until then, so he sent those pictures to himself.
Toji turns your phone off and sets it aside, before grabbing ahold of your other ankle and repeating the same treatment that he did for the first one.
"There was... ugh..." you sweep away some strands of hair that almost went into your mouth. "A man. I dropped my phone and he- and he got too close behind me when I bent down to pick it up." You nod, with your eyes as wide as they can be in this state, like you're trying to prove that you aren't lying by looking him straight in his eyes.
"That's fucking disgusting, mama." Toji's eyebrows furrow, discomfort written all over his face with this new information you revealed. He squeezes your ankle a little tighter, his mind beginning to cloud with thoughts of never letting you go out without him again, but before he even thinks of spilling these thoughts to you, he asks you the most important questions.
"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"
"Mm-mm, no." You shake your head as quickly as you can without getting dizzy. "Saw his legs behind my legs and I got up and gave him this look..." You furrow your brows and lid your eyes, a gaze that doesn't seem intimidating or warning enough, now, after so many drinks. Your face quickly relaxes after and you roll your eyes with a tired sigh. "Yup, that was the face I made and then I walked away," you say, your attitude more upbeat.
"Did he leave you alone?" Toji asks, hoping nothing more happened. If there is more, he'll have you describe this man to the best of your ability, and he will hunt him down until he can positively assure that he's no longer part of the world's population.
"Yeahhh, don't know where he went." You hum like you're trying to remember, as if you even have that knowledge. You walked away and didn't turn back around, something that finally concludes your brief inability to recall. "Think he got lost." You giggle.
"Good. I'm glad," Toji says. You hum in agreement, and your eyes fall shut, gracing you with two seconds of sleep before your head nods and you wake up, again. Your bashful smile evolves into a short laugh, one that has Toji smiling at how precious you are. "You tired, mama?"
You nod and blink slowly in response, fighting the urge to shut your eyes for longer. Your lips curl into a lazy smile, when Toji presses a kiss to your ankle, before he moves your feet and sets them on the bed so he can get up.
"Let's get you ready for bed, then."
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amastarxoxo · 3 days ago
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ㅤ        ㅤ            ⠀ꕀ⠀𝆹⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀ִ⠀ worthless talking ⠀ּ ּ    ✧
Arguments with various characters
S1! jinx , S2! vi , S2! caitlyn , and ekko x fem! reader
arguing , mention of having a crush ( vi ) , hurt/no comfort , cursing , mentions of marriage ( caitlyn ) , drinking ( vi ) , mention of reader working in the brothel ( not prostitute ( vi ) ) , suspected cheating ( caitlyn ) , injured reader ( ekko )
not proofread or requested
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JINX
arguments with her are usually light and can easily be dismissed or solved quickly but this is very different. silco has been pressuring her as of late about her weapon for the hex gemstone; which has been stressing her out and getting more irritated by everything little thing. “jinx baby?” you spoke softly, trying to not make her anymore irritated. “yes toots?” she frantically looking back and forth at her parts and blueprints for her fishbones, “are you doing okay? do you eat?”
she shrugged her shoulders, continuing to screw the screws in. you silently gulped and walked closer to her. “listen baby…can you take a break or something? i don’t remember the last time you slept or even eat and—” “shut up.” you immediately looked her way like you misheard her. “i-im sorry what..?” she kissed her teeth, “ i said shut up! all you ever do is nag and nag around me! do ever shut up? i’m trying to work so i can hurry up and finish this project, but no you just can’t seem to leave me alone while you’re—” she stops mid sentence, looking to see where you were last standing, “y/n?” she asked to absolutely nothing. she rolled her eyes, not bothering to think about you anymore, too focused on the hexgem project.
walking through the streets of Zaun, tears blurring your vision as you do your best to wipe them away but if anything you made your mind clear as day in Piltover; she doesn’t need you there anymore. continuing to walk through the lanes until you reached your home.
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VI
pitfights. you hate no—loath them. so imagine your reaction to hearing that your crush becamea pitfighter after that massive fall out with the stupid top side girl. you watched as a friend of hers drag her up the stairs then she starts pushing him off and telling him to fuck off. you watch as the friend just walked away; already tired of her bullshit.
you breathe, mentally preparing yourself and your lecture of what you want to say as you head up the stairs slowly until you reached the door. out of curiosity, you reached for the doorknob, and its unlocked. ‘of course this idiot wouldn’t lock the door.’ you thought, twisting it and slowly pushing the door, seeing vi collapsed on the bed but still awake. you clear your throat loudly, catching her attention as you stand close to the now closed door. “vi.” your voice cautious but fed up. watching her destroy herself over a top side is so pathetic, even jinx powder would laugh in her face. vi groaned tiredly, “can’t seem to catch a fucking break anymore.”
“fuck a break! what do you think you’re doing?!” you wave your hand around, as you often talk with your hands. “what the hell are you talking about…!?” vi retorted back. “look around you vi, and your hair! your outfit! you’re a damn pitfighter.” you pointed at everything you mentioned, “why?! is it because of that fall out you had with that stupid top side girl..?!” vi abruptly gets up and stands in front of you. the smell of strong beer and whiskey clog your nose, in her breath, her clothes, everywhere, “don’t you dare bring her up.” you scoffed, “why not? she treats you like shit but now you’re a floor licking puppy for her..?” you stare at her, raised eyebrow, “at least she was better than you in many ways than one.” “excuse me?” “get the fuck out y/n. go back to being a fucking prostitute or something.” “i’m not a prosti—” she punched the wall next to your head, you flinch, hard. “out.” her voice threatening. your hands and feet quickly move as you open the door and fumble out of the apartment was vi was was.
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CAITLYN
a lot has happened in a short amount of time, well, caitlyn proposed to you, then jinx blew up the council and killed her mother, then your fiancée became a damn Dictator and has been worked and training nonstop with Ambessa, and you’re starting to worry. she has been looking burned out a lot more and tired to even notice you sitting next to her on her desk as she stresses over paperwork.
“dear?” you twirled your finger around her loose hair. she jumps a bit, snapping out her thoughts and looking up to see her fiancée, you, “sorry darling, do you need something?” she fidgets with her pen and fingers, you smile at her weakly, “your dinner is cold.” you point to the cold dinner plate, nothing eaten on the side table next to her. caitlyn sighs heavily. “right, i apologize my dear, ill…make sure to eat.” “this is the fourth time dear. you can’t be a commander with zero energy.” you cross your arms over your chest, “i know know i’m just” “i’m starting to think ambessa was a bad idea again. i worried about all this pressure and process. like especially after your mother died, this isn’t good..” caitlyn’s fist banged against the desk, stopping you mid sentence.
“i don’t need your pity or concerns right now.” you stare at her, confused. “what are you talking about right now dear?” “i’m saying you talk too damn much.” she stood up, the chair scratches against the floor and walks away from the desk, “where are you going?” you asked while sliding off the desk, “out. i need some fresh air.” you tilt your head to the side and keep your arms crossed, “fresh air? or maddie?” the blued hair commander stopped dead in her tracks, “what…what did you just say?” you scoffed, as you walked past her, bumping her shoulder. you open the door, revealing maddie with paper works in her hands, “i’ll take my leave.”
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EKKO
patrolling the area around the safe area, but your mind consumed with the thoughts of your boyfriend, he’s starting to overworking again. and that’s pissing you off. months of you guys dating and he still doesn’t get the memo. you sat on top of the tunnel entrance towards the hideout. staring up at the stars, wishing ekko was here with you.
suddenly, you feel a long cold metal jabbed into your side. you immediately clutch it to stop it from entering further until the culprit kicked you in the back, causing you to roll off the top and your body thudding against the cold concrete then you saw black. you wake up, the knife removed and you’re wrapped in bandages around your stomach and your arm is in a cast. your eyes adjust to the light shining down upon you, you wince as a headache rises and you hear muffled sounds of someone screaming your name. once your mind finally adjusts to everything, you hear ekko,
“hey hey hey! firebug! what happened?” his hands placing everywhere patting you down. you wince again, “ekko…that hurts..” you fully open your eyes. “what happened? why did someone find you outside of the base, bleeding out?” he raised his voice, not scary but scared. “i…i was patrolling around the entrance and—” “patrolling? didn’t i say you’re not allowed to patrol unless i’m there?” his voice switch to low. “i can take care of myself ekko.” he gritted his teeth, “well clearly you can not! look at you now! you don’t ever listen huh?” he started pacing back and forth, “it’s like you’re deaf or something, i said no! and you do the entire fucking opposite!” he grabs his mask and hoverboard, stops to say something but rejected that idea and just left.
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ekko was so hard to do ngl cause what has he done for to cause an argument🧍‍♀️and you notice how short-ish jinx is? yea cause i can never actually be mad at jinx.
©︎ A M A T E R A S U. all rights reserved. please don't plazarize, copy, or steal any of my works without my permission, thank you !
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multipleoccupancy · 11 minutes ago
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Theo picked up on her concern and he took just a moment to reassure her very seriously and honestly. "I would feel a terrible pity on any agent who was dumb enough to pull a gun on me when I have been sent by Delta Green," while he knew his name wasn't well known in the lower ranks he was a damn good and key stone agent for New York and the city, the agent dumb enough to attack him had best pray to be of greater value than him to the organisation if they put him out of action with little more than a hot tempered bullet. Not to mention the retribution from the FBI and depending on the state, the police or boarder control. "I can handle people," he reassured her with a rare wink, the first one in days.
Ah, it seemed he was risking opening up a door on who knew what about everything else and Theo shook his head. "No, not officially. There are those in the military just like there's agents like me in the FBI who know and understand that when Delta Green asks for resources, it's for a very good reason, but like me they have to go through their channels, talk to their bosses and persuade them to send what they need." It had not been easy in Montana either but he didn't voice that for now. "Delta Green, in all official understanding, does not exist. If an organisation can't be found, known or learned about then it is much easier to keep it and most importantly what it does, hidden."
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He wasn't sure he liked that she would be always worrying about him though he supposed he was worrying about her all the time in return. Hell he worried about her when she went to sleep in her own bed in their home, the worry would never stop! But at least she had not been travelling since the ward. Part of him was really very hopeful that The Horned One had just forgotten or become bored with sending her anywhere else but he didn't voice it for fear of jinxing it. "That's good," he said instead and trusted her at her word but did think for a moment, "and is there something else bothering you?" He wanted to help, he might not have been in the right place to offer his usual full support and comfort but he would always make time and room for her in what ways he could.
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy
Violet was not really reassured by all of that. Between agents having violent episodes and agents just being trigger-happy, she was starting to doubt that her dad was safe around other agents. As if monsters weren't a big enough threat as it was! If Samantha still worked as an agent, she could have been sure he had someone trustworthy with him. But she didn't! "And you... go to lecture the agents with a hot temper?" Armed agents with a hot temper. She didn't like that at all!
She nodded. Yes, she remembered what he had told her about Montana. He shared so very few stories about his work, when he did she listened attentively! "Does the military know? About monsters?" Or did the military offer them help without knowing the truth? Violet figured that surely other people, outside of Delta Green, knew about the paranormal. It was a well-kept secret but it couldn't be that well-kept. Monsters weren't exactly easy to hide.
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"Of course I worry about you," she countered, "you're my dad. I'll always worry about you." Still, her dad's state was a relief, and she seemed to have slightly relaxed. "I haven't been traveling since." The Horned One was finally giving her a short break, and she was not about to complain about it. Violet didn't want to travel. She wanted to stay home, for as long as possible.
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minkieater · 16 hours ago
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when another member walks in on you ateez ot8 x fem!reader
silly little thing i wrote between clients today
smut below the cut! mdni ↓ dom/sub dynamics, exhibitionism, oral sex, p in v lol, lmk if i missed anything !!
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hongjoong ☄️
“shut up slut, they’ll hear you. i bet you want that, don’t you?” he had your face buried in your mattress, drool slipping from your mouth, your ass up in the air where he was relentlessly drilling  into you. 
you moaned, you had stopped caring about your volume long ago, they would hear hongjoong’s thrusts before your moans anyhow. you clenched around him, only making him hiss out and reach over to push your head impossibly farther into the mattress. 
you pissed him off— you got a little too close to wooyoung, talked for a little too long and hongjoong was livid. 
“you want him to hear you, don’t you? want him to hear all the pretty sounds you make? showing off, huh? attention whore,” his words were venom, his lips inches from your ear with how he bent over you, foot planted on the mattress beside your shoulder. 
“are you guys oka— oh shit, i’m so sorry,” hongjoong lets go of your head only for the two of you to snap your faces up to the intruder, hongjoong stilling inside of you.
“what the fuck?” was all hongjoong could get out, a stunned wooyoung in the doorway, his jaw on the floor at the sight in front of him. “wooyoung! get out!” 
“it didn’t sound like you were fucking! i got scared,” you heard wooyoung yell as he closed the door behind him, leaving hongjoong to pick right back up where he left off. 
“don’t think i missed how you clenched around me, whore.”
seonghwa 🫧
seonghwa had you on your knees while he sat on the bed, leaned back on one arm with the other around your ponytail, guiding you up and down his length. 
in a black tank top and gray sweatpants he looked so fucking sexy in the living room, you couldn’t help but pull him into his bedroom for a minute alone — you needed to taste him, show him how much he affected you. 
“fuck, you’re so good at that,” his words were quiet, a low rasp to his voice as he tugged on your hair a little harder. your mouth slipped off of him with a pop, batting your eyelashes up at him with a knowingly coy smile.
he groaned, a little louder this time, his head falling back. “don’t look at me like that or your throat’s getting fucked.” 
you giggled, mouth attaching to him again, bobbing your head up and down a little faster now. he bucked his hips up little by little, using more force with each stroke and you took him proudly, small gags and noises of nasty wetness leaving your lips.
the door opened without either of you noticing, only catching a head of brown hair leaving seonghwa’s bedroom with a shriek of surprise. this wasn’t the first time yeosang had walked in on you, but it still made you laugh every damn time.
you looked up to seonghwa with a giggle on your lips after popping off him again, seonghwa wearing a smile himself.
“how many times do you think we’ll scar him before he stops coming in here?” seonghwa asks, letting go of your ponytail.
“if he was going to catch on, he would’ve by now,” you readjusted yourself on your knees during the pause, shaking your head before bringing your focus back on his delicious length before you. “you said something about fucking my throat right?”
yunho 🧍🏻‍♂️
you and yunho had been waiting for a day alone for weeks. for too long had you been silenced in the hours from one to three, his fingers clamped over your lips or stuffed between them in an attempt to keep you quiet. comeback season was busy, and when there was time off everyone lazed around the dorms and didn’t fucking leave. 
now, on your third consecutive day off, the dorms were empty and yunho took advantage. he had your hands pinned under your back with a belt he had just taken off, hips snapping into you so hard the sound was sure to be heard outside. 
“sloppy little cunt sucking me right the fuck in,” he hissed, hips cracking into your thighs, his fingers keeping you still.
you were wailing at this point, tears streaming down your face, begging for reprieve while also thinking if he stopped you’d die. 
“don’t stop,” you repeated, a mantra on your tongue, from your hips being slanted upward his cock was hitting that spongy spot in your walls that drove you fucking insane. 
you were so close, mere thrusts away from hitting your peak, and the door busted open, an out of breath mingi stood at the door.
“the rest of the guys are walking in right behind me,” mingi’s words were panicked in a warning, but yunho didn’t stop. he ignored his friend, knowing you were so close, wanting your high to crash over you so he could follow. 
you screamed — mingi couldn’t move. yunho fucked you through it, thrusts only quickening to meet his own end, until he doubled on top of you with two large hands landing right beside your head. 
yunho turned to look at mingi, a smirk playing on his lips with heaving breaths, “enjoyed the show?” 
yeosang 👥
everyday yeosang woke you up the same way: his fingers or his head between your thighs until you were creaming around him, then he replaced it with his cock. it wasn’t a good morning until you had at least one, if not two orgasms. 
this morning he was greedy— it seemed he didn’t want to let you go. you came on his face once, his fingers a second time, and he was working you up to a third on his lap. if yeosang could do anything it was last, his stamina was like no other, he could go for hours if you let him. 
you had your knees planted on the mattress beside his hips, his cock hitting your cervix continuously as you grind your hips back and forth against him, your nails clawing at his shoulders. his head was leaning against the headboard, leaving his throat open to you, where you licked and sucked pretty little bruises across the base of his neck, little whines leaving his throat.
“yes, baby, ‘m so close,” he croaked out, his voice raspy and deep, his abs clenching with every grind of your hips. 
“cum for me then yeo, fill me up,” your hand moved from his shoulder to wrap your fingers around his neck, pulling him towards you to connect your chest to his.
your mornings weren’t usually so filthy, never downright nasty, bringing your skin to touch his brought a sense of intimacy back to your morning. 
his head fell onto your shoulder with a groan, filling you up just as you told him to, thighs twitching beneath you. you moaned at the feeling, letting your head rest atop his, bringing your hands to tangle in his hair. 
“you guys awake yet?” seonghwa popped into your room, making you twist your body around to look at him, eyes wide.
“definitely awake,” he pulled his lips into a line, bidding you a singular nod before closing the door again. a huff of amusement left your lips as you looked back down to the boy laying on your shoulder, patting his head, giving him a moment to come back before you’d take your morning shower together.
san 🚪
san couldn’t wait. you were at your favorite club, both tipsy and horny, dancing to the beat of the song before san’s fingers dipped below your dress. you looked up to him with wide eyes, met with a filthy smirk and a pair of dimples that ushered you towards the men’s bathroom. 
“san, anyone could walk in,” you were uneasy, san was never so impatient that he needed you then and there. he’d never portrayed signs of exhibitionism before today, your sex life had always been private — you liked it that way, yet the hunger in his eyes and the spark left in the wake of his fingers on your skin made you excited. 
“let them see how good i fuck you then,” he hummed, fingers flipping up your dress, plunging into your core that was so wet he slipped in. the squelch of his fingers was deafening, you thanked god the bathroom was empty. 
he stuffed you into a stall, fingers still curling into you before he slipped your panties to the side, replacing his fingers with his cock. the pace he set was brutal, your hands bracing the wall above the toilet as he fucked into you from behind, hips slapping into your ass. 
you fought to keep your moans inside, pointless as the sound of skin slapping would overpower them anyway. san groaned, “knew you’d be wet, naughty girl. you were basically begging me to fuck you on the dance floor for everyone to see.” 
a whine escaped you, nails clawing against the tile of the wall. he slipped a hand around your hips, coming between your legs, rubbing your clit at a pace he knew would have you coming in seconds 
“fuck, san, harder please,” you breathed out, head dipping below your arms, hanging between them. 
he listened, quickening his pace, fucking you somehow harder than he was before. his fingers worked in a quick rhythm, making the pit in your stomach grow until you were overflowing on his dick.
“yeah, that’s it, baby. cum all over my cock,” he was drunk off your pussy, words slurring together, keeping his pace on your clit to ride you through it. 
when you were twitching from overstimulation he emptied himself inside you, head falling to the center of your spine. there was nothing but the sound of heavy breaths in the public restroom, you and san catching your breath and your sanity before he flipped your dress back down and zippered himself back up.
when you left the stall, jongho was washing his hands at the sink, barely giving you a glance as you stepped into view. 
“how long have you been in here?” san asked, a pink rising to his cheeks, looking like a completely different person than he had moments ago.
“unfortunately, long enough. broke the seal so i had no choice,” jongho shrugs as he grabs paper towels, drying off his palms. “make sure you two wash your hands.” 
mingi 🫶
the say my name stage always fucked you up, it never failed. being on stage period always fucked mingi up, that never failed either. it was safe to say that your post-show routine was always fucking backstage, it happened every stop, every show, you lost count of how many dressing rooms in foreign countries you’ve been fucked within an inch of your life in.
what was abnormal was mingi not waiting until the show was over. always professional, mingi waited until everyone was no longer sprinting around backstage with mini-fans and makeup brushes to touch up the eight boys before they had to head back out onstage. 
as he came off the stage, his walk was fast paced, precise. it would’ve scared you if you didn’t know what it meant. his fingers hooked around your arm, dragged you further backstage, and had you in a random closet in a stadium completely foreign to you. 
he was quick to split you open, granted say my name was within their first set so you were already dripping by the time he made it between your legs. 
“always so ready for me,” he mumbled out, zeroed in on your center but eyes still not fully clear. in his post performance haze he was always rougher, selfish, not a care in the world for you. it was your favorite. 
“put it in,” you barked out, hips bucking toward him and he was sheathed within seconds. giving you no time to get used to the stretch you wheezed, head lolling onto his shoulder, and he let loose. 
he fucked you stupid, you joined him in whatever haze his brain was under as he pounded into you, hips clapping into the silence of the dark storage room. you heard footsteps outside but mingi made no moves to halt his thrusts, only focused on one thing, getting the two of you off before he had to go back onstage. 
“are you fucking?” yunho’s voice wasn’t clear until he had the door open, light cascading into the storage room, yours and mingi’s necks snapping to look at the intruder.
he was smirking — he knew what he was walking into yet he did it anyway. you and mingi both smiled cheshire grins as yunho stepped inside the storage room, quickly slamming the door shut behind him. 
“why didn’t you invite me?”
wooyoung 🐈‍⬛
wooyoung had you splayed out on the bed, legs bent up with his head between them. eating you out was adjacent to your meditation time, as he calls it, it's his favorite way to wind down. after a long day, after a short day, during his day, it didn’t matter when. wooyoung was always down to eat you out, eager even — he is a man not above begging. 
your chin was shot back, eyes screwed tight, wooyoung had made you cum on his tongue twice so far and he was nowhere near finished. 
after eating you through your second orgasm his licks had slowed down, easing up his pressure, making his tongue soft and pliable instead of hard and pointed. 
soft moans left your lips, he knew by now how to work you through overstimulation, lazily licking at your clit until your moans turned to whines once more.
“taste so fucking good, could eat this pussy all night,” his eyes were fully closed, he was in a dream. between your legs was his happy place, he’d die there a happy man, he’d admitted it more than once. more than ten times, at least. 
when he noticed your breaths getting shorter and your moans shifting to a higher pitch he was sharp with his movements, picking up his pace, licking up your folds and sucking on your clit with swollen lips. 
hongjoong bounced through the door, “hey wooyo, you- jesus fucking christ!” 
your legs snapped shut, closing over wooyoung’s head and he pried himself out of your cage with painted fingertips, jumping up to face hongjoong at the door.
“what?” wooyoung asked, palm swiping at his chin.
“i’m scarred,” hongjoong muttered, voice horrified with hands covering his eyes. your hands fled for the blankets, pulling them over your body with a speed you weren’t expecting to have to use. 
“what do you want, joong?” wooyoung asked, rushed yet still casual, sitting on his knees. his abdomen was clenched, muscles on display as he twisted backward, you didn’t even care that hongjoong was in the room. 
“i was going to ask if you had a spare pair of headphones,” his voice was barely above a squeak, hands still covering his eyes.
“oh, yeah i do, here, they’re my sony 1000MX—”
“i don’t give a fuck wooyoung, give them to me so i can leave.”
jongho 🧸
you were hanging out with jongho in the dance practice room as he practiced the same routine again, the fifth time tonight.
he groaned in frustration after missing a step again, the same step he’s missed the past four times he’s gone through the routine. his hands cover his face, dragging down his cheeks.
you get up from your spot on the floor, making your way in front of him, grabbing his hands to hold in yours.
“why don’t you stop for the night?” you tilt your head, nothing but warmth in your eyes as you stare into his, cold and irritated. 
“i need to get this fucking right,” his lips are pursed, his eyebrows are knit together as he barks, “i need to clear my head.” 
within minutes he had you on your hands and knees atop the hardwood floor, bodies facing the mirror that spread across the wall, forcing you to watch yourself as he fucked you stupid. 
“see that?” he smirked at you through the mirror, fingers tight on your hips, “nothing but a cocksleeve whenever i want it, so willing for me.” 
his words were cool and calm, almost a threat on his lips as he abused your core. your eyebrows were tangled and your mouth hung open, knees and palms burning from the pressure against the harsh wood. 
“yes, just for you,” you manage to choke out between thrusts, body jolting forward with each thrust. 
“that’s right baby,” he nods, his smile turning villainous, only fucking into you harder as he spits, “such a fucking whore, letting me fuck you in public like this.” 
you nod, eyes screwed shut, “d-don’t fucking stop.” 
his chuckle is deep, his thrusts losing their rhythm, “you want it? want me to fill this filthy pussy up?” 
the door to the practice room opens, san strolls inside with a smile on his face before he sees the two of you — he shrieked. “what the fuck!?” 
jongho stilled, laying himself atop your body, trying to cover you as best he could. his words come out nervous, “get the fuck out!”
san slips back out of the door, then peeks his head back in, “wait, when are you gonna be done? i want to practice.” 
“san!” 
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masterlist
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obxsummer · 2 days ago
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how much do you love me // ghost of you
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pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader
summary: a proposal pogue style gets overshadowed with the arrival of chandler groff. your night goes from celebrating into treasure hunting, and john b and jj are in for the shock of their lives for completely opposite reasons
warnings: little spicy beginning, drug use, mentions of not being able to have kids, pregnancy trope (i still love u, sarah cameron), and i fear you're all about to hate me....
navigation -- series masterlist
ask me anything or support me via a ko-fi
--
JJ found you shortly after you climbed out of the shower, hair wet as you tried to wiggle into a pair of sweatpants. Nothing ever went on easy with damp skin, and your frustration was building faster than you liked to admit. 
“C’mere,” JJ’s tone was soft as he sat on the bed and reached forward for you, helping you tug the ankles over your feet so you could comfortably adjust the fabric without the risk of falling over. He reached forward when you were stable, pulling your waist to bring you closer so he was level with your chest.
“My eyes are up here, Jayj,” You teased and placed your fingers under his chin to reroute his gaze from your lace bralette. The boyish grin told you his attention on your face wouldn’t last long so you needed to move quick. “Hi.”
“Hi,” He mumbled, his hand reaching you to grab the back of your neck and gently pull you down to meet him for a soft kiss. A groan left your lips as his other hand tucked itself on your side, his thumb brushing the skin under your bralette teasingly. 
“Please don’t start something we won’t stop,” You whispered, teeth pulling on his lip slightly. Your skin was still damp and clammy, heating up with every move he made. “They’re gonna be waiting on us.”
JJ hummed, his mouth moving from yours to nip at the dip of your collarbones. If you let him keep going, the two of you would not be leaving this room anytime soon.
“Babe, you- oh,” Your breath caught as he bit down a little too harsh and soothed the skin with the swipe of his tongue. “JJ.”
“Shh,” He shushed you, fingers gently tugging the strap of your bralette off your shoulder so he could get closer to where he really wanted. There were a lot of things running through JJ’s mind right now, but they all centered around you. You with a ring on your finger, bare underneath him after you share a last name. You were going to be his in ways you hadn’t been before.
“You guys hungry?” Sarah at least knocked on the door, her voice interrupting before the two of you could get much further. You smirked as JJ flopped against the bed with a huff. 
“I’m not, but I’m sure JJ is,” You called back, adjusting the strap of your top before shrugging on a cropped long sleeve to cover up any evidence of JJ’s recent actions. Bending down, you gave him one more long kiss before standing back up and patting his thigh lovingly. “Enjoy your cold shower, babe.”
JJ groaned loudly as you left the room, meeting Sarah in the hallway, a knowing smile on her face. She reached up to poke the sore spot on your collarbone and you pulled back with a gasp. “JJ’s hungry, all right,” She laughed, “Hey, I need your help with something, c’mere.”
You followed her into the next room where she had a handful of dresses scattered across the bed. 
“I think John B and I are gonna go to City Hall tomorrow and apply for a marriage license. So, which one should I wear?”
You glanced at her, “Sarah, these are all my dresses.”
She pursed her lips. “Yeah… yeah. Just hypothetically, though, like if you were to wear one, which one?”
You gave her an odd look at her weird attitude before pointing at the one on the bed that you preferred. “Probably this one. Cute but not too formal, you know?”
Sarah nodded and picked it up to hold in front of the two of you. After a moment, she tossed it at your chest. “Try it on for me, I wanna see what it looks like.”
“Then why don’t you-”
“No, no, please.” She pushed you toward the bathroom as you tried to object which didn’t help as she closed the door behind you. You sighed, frustrated from being pulled from JJ to try dresses on that you already owned. 
You pulled your shirt and sweatpants back off and shimmied into the dress per Sarah’s request. Glancing in the mirror, you forgot how much you loved this item. After getting some necessities for everyone in the group post-gold, Sarah insisted on getting some items for you and Cleo to help blend when she went back to her dad’s rental condo since Kie already had some. This happened to be your favorite one you saw that day. It was gorgeous and flattering in every way possible, and you were simply obsessed.
“Okay, here,” You spoke before grabbing the door handle to walk back out. Only, it didn’t budge in the slightest. You frowned and tried wiggling it again, but it didn’t move. “Sarah? I think the door’s stuck.”
Silence followed your words.
“Hello?” You repeated, knocking this time but received nothing in return. “Oh, you bitches.”
It became obvious they were up to something that involved locking you in John B and Sarah’s bathroom with no form of communication or entertainment. You sighed and sat on the floor, leaning your head back against the cabinets as you settled in. Knowing them, you’d be here a while.
You tried to rack your brain for any important date coming up. Your birthday still had a few weeks and was the closest out of anyone in the group, so birthdays were out. No anniversaries, and as far as you know, nobody else got married. Unless this had suddenly turned into a baby shower, you were out of options.
Minutes passed of pure boredom and you were beginning to question if a bath towel would suffice as a comfy blanket only to be spared as the door opened. 
“Finally,” You huffed and got to your feet to see Kiara staring at you. “Where’s Sarah? We suddenly have beef.”
She laughed and took a step in the room despite your wishes. “You look cute. Date night? Let me fix your hair.”
You shook your head, now completely confused. “What? No, we-”
There was no room to argue as Kiara started digging through all of Sarah’s hair supplies. She quickly set to work, avoiding most conversations with you and letting her phone play music to satisfy your desire for noise. Soon, she’d completed your favorite hairstyle, the one she used to practice all the time when you were younger. 
She caught your gaze in the mirror and smiled. “Cute.” She shrugged and walked out without another word. 
Your jaw dropped as you watched her form disappear, utter confusion left in her place. “What the fuck?” You whispered to yourself and walked out of the bathroom. The house was oddly silent and your heart started racing. 
Cleo hopped out of her room a second later. “Well shit, where you going looking so sweet?”
You shrugged. Either she was in on it, or at least played it off better than the others. “No idea. You know something I don’t?”
Cleo clicked her tongue. “Not a chance, girly. But what I do know, is you need some shoes.”
You should’ve seen it coming and took the outstretched pair of your shoes from her hands to slip on your feet. Shaking your head, you continued down the stairs in hopes that whatever secret they were hiding would pop out soon.
You peeked around the corner to see Pope in the kitchen with his back to you. You let out a breath, hoping your confusion would end here. “Hey, what is-”
He flipped around with a creepy smile on his own face, his attempt at not being suspicious.
You rolled your eyes. “Alright, what?”
Pope held out the infamous purple bandana that was usually around your brother’s neck. “Blindfold time.”
Disgust took over your face as he came closer with the fabric. “Pope, please tell me you at least washed it first? Please say yes. What the fuck.” You could smell fresh laundry detergent and sighed in relief. 
He wrapped the fabric around your eyes, making sure it was secure but not too tight. Waving his hand in front of your face, you didn’t move in the slightest, but you were a little too rigid for his liking so he grabbed your hand instead. “I’m right here, won’t let anything happen.”
You nodded, trying to keep your racing thoughts at bay and let Pope guide you slowly. The chill of outside settled in soon after and you gripped his hand a little tighter. 
“I’m so kicking your ass for this later,” You grumbled, your steps awkward as you tried to navigate a terrain you couldn’t see. You tried listening for anything out of the ordinary but came up empty-handed. “All of you, actually. Asses are grass.”
Pope laughed quietly, his other hand grabbing your open one as he guided you down a few stairs. “Remember when we would play hide and seek as kids and you’d always pick the same spot?”
You smiled at the memory. “Yeah, and you’d never let me win because of it. Always checked the stupid cabinet first.”
Pope squeezed your hands reassuringly. “Couldn’t let that ego get too big so young, you’d be even more like JJ than you already are. Gotta hand you off, that okay?”
You hummed in agreement and Pope slowly let go before another pair of hands took over your hold. 
“Bandana smell good for once?”
You clocked John B’s voice instantly and attempted to hit him, but missed. “You’re an asshole, I thought I was going to suffocate to death when Pope first told me.”
John B laughed, “You can thank Sarah for that one.”
“Figured,” You mumbled, “Don’t think you’ve done your own laundry since ever.” 
You could hear the noise of your steps changing from the grass to wood, meaning your brother was guiding you down the dock. The movement of the water was much louder now.
“Hey, I love you, yeah?” John B asked and you nodded in return, agreeing with his statement. “Do me a favor and try not to scream, okay?”
You froze as John B let go to undo the bandana from around your eyes, even though you had them pinched shut in anticipation. Your brother squeezed your upper arms lightly and you finally forced your eyes to open.
Despite his wishes, you did scream before covering your own mouth to quiet the noise. The covered portion of the dock was covered in its usual white Christmas lights, which wasn’t new. What was new, was the handful of flower petals leading up to the person standing under the lights.
“Girl, you crazy? Go get him!” Someone laughed at Cleo’s comment, and you shook your head, still in shock at the sight before you knowing they would be hiding somewhere nearby to watch this go down. 
You took off, shoes smacking loudly against the wooden platform to meet JJ who opened his arms and caught you with ease. You pulled back slightly to kiss him, your actions having a much different meaning than earlier.
JJ set you down gently and before he could even speak, you were nodding your head. He chuckled, “You’re not even gonna let me ask the question before agreeing?”
You let out a teary laugh. “Doesn’t matter, answer is yes.”
“Okay, well I was actually asking if you would stop taking long ass showers so-”
You pushed him lightly, your fingers shaking with adrenaline. “J.”
He shook his head and kneeled down in front of you, which caused another round of tears and you nearly choked at the sight of him. JJ Maybank would never get down on his knees for someone, but apparently, you were and would continue to be the exception to that rule. 
“I um… you know I suck at putting emotions into words, and I already gave John B the speech of my life-”
“You prepared better for my brother than me?” You teased and brushed tears from your cheeks. “Should’ve known you always wanted him.”
JJ nearly flipped you off in response but opted for a roll of his eyes instead. “Baby, are you seriously talking about your brother while I’m trying to propose?”
You gaped at him in disbelief. “You started it!” “Alright, alright,” JJ laughed and reached into his pocket to grab the ring. “Look. I know so much has happened in our lives, and shit will continue to hit the fan, but… you have made every day of our time together so worth it. You’re the reason I get out of bed, even when there’s so much I want to hide from. You’re the reason try to come home every night, to hold you and know it’ll be okay. You continue to be the reason I believe in love, after growing up in a world without it, and.. and I don’t know what I would do without you, and I don’t plan to find out, obviously. There’s so many promises I’ve yet to make, and there’s so much I owe to you, and I’m just gonna shut up before my leg goes numb so, will you marry me?”
Heart racing, you reached for JJ’s hand and a flicker of confusion crossed his face before he grabbed it and stood up to his full height again. You wrapped your arms around his neck and shifted closer. “There is actually nothing in the world that I want more than to marry you. Where you go, I go, yeah?”
JJ barely cried, but the words were enough to push him over the edge and he quickly leaned down to kiss you in a way he hadn’t before. You fell in, melting into his hands like it was where you belonged. You could hear the faint cheers of your family behind you when the two of you pulled away, JJ taking the opportunity to slide the ring onto your left hand.
You gasped at the ring, eyes meeting his in shock, and you swore you were going to hit the ground at any second. “Where did you find this?”
JJ smiled, his thumbs brushing tears from your cheeks as he held your face softly. “You can thank Sarah for that one.”
Your bottom lip quivered at the sight of your mom’s ring resting on your hand. This ring had once meant family and promise, but it couldn’t hold up to that, no matter how much you wished it did. But with JJ in front of you, and your friends storming their way down to celebrate, you knew the story was about to change…. all because of you.
--
You didn’t ask who stole the alcohol, and quite frankly, you didn’t care because it was making you bubbly and warm inside. Your guess was Sarah raided whatever remained at her dad’s rental condo, considering there was a bottle of champagne in your hands and someone had a gnarly bottle of vodka somewhere in the room.
JJ was standing against the counter in front of you, your arms wrapped securely around his chest as his hand lightly traced the skin of your leg. You lazily leaned against him, glancing at your hand every so often to see the gems staring back at you. JJ would smile each time and squeeze your knee. You didn’t want to leave his side, and thankfully none of your friends would even try.
The scroll that John B had snagged from the mercenaries was laid across the table, Pope’s eyes looking over it closely. Cleo was snuggled into his side, whispering her own thoughts and ideas as they looked over the paper.
Kie handed you the newly lit joint. “To the happy couple,” She offered, bowing for emphasis which had you and JJ laughing.
You took it between your fingers and raised it to your lips to inhale before the blond boy in your arms turned to face you. You shook your head, already knowing where he was going before glancing to see where John B was in the room. Noticing he was occupied with Sarah, you took a deep inhale and held it for a moment before leaning to connect your lips to JJ’s, exhaling the smoke into his mouth.
“Oh, you assholes.” The protest came from Kiara who was still standing next to you, her face contorted in disgust.
You didn’t care though, and when JJ’s eyes met yours, the whole world disappeared. This was the start of your future together, of a new chapter in your lives that outweighed any before, and you were so excited to share it with him.
Kie rolled her eyes and took the joint back from you, pausing long enough to squeeze your arm. “Love you guys.”
“We love you, Kie,” You replied, giving her an appreciative smile before she walked away. JJ pulled the bottle of champagne from next to you and took a hefty sip, attempting to focus on the scene in front of him. 
“So, what are we supposed to do with this? It looks like a trippy mosaic.” Sarah pointed to the map in confusion, unable to read a single thing on the worn paper. 
“Decode it,” Your boyfriend, fiancé, answered her question. “That’s what we’re supposed to do.” He shifted out of your embrace to approach the table. You followed his motions to stand next to him, taking in the confusing document before you wrapped JJ’s jacket tighter around you.
“But…how?”
“With the code breaker, that’s how.” JJ plucked the joint back from Kiara’s fingers as he spoke. He took a hit before passing it to John B who did the same. You watched as your brother unconsciously passed it to Sarah, the blonde girl taking it into her grasp absentmindedly. 
You and Kiara acted instantly; Kie gave her a weird look as you cleared your throat in warning. Sarah’s eyes widened and she apologized, moving to hand the item back to Kiara, almost burning her in the process. Cleo watched the three of you skeptically, always paying attention, unlike the boys around you. You caught her eyes on you and opened your mouth to explain.
Thankfully, something clattered outside, creating enough of a distraction to save you all from an awkward explanation.
“What was that?” Pope asked quietly, silence overtaking the room. JJ shifted slightly, moving to stand in front of you as all eyes looked out the back windows where the commotion was coming from. 
To your dismay, the boys moved first, JJ’s shirt slipping out of your hold as you took a step toward Cleo, Kie shifting closer to Sarah. 
“I knew we shouldn’t have come back here,” Kie whispered as JJ and John B grabbed nearby ores in hopes of having some defense over whatever was out there. Cleo plucked her knife from her side, twirling it expertly between her fingers. You admired her bravery, as she was never one to let fear show on her face. 
Kiara tossed John B’s flannel over the map, a poor attempt at hiding it, but you guessed it was better than nothing. 
“What are you doing?” Pope was startled as John B slowly pushed open the door, a creaking noise filling the room. 
“Anything?” JJ asked a little bit louder when all you could hear were the animals chirping away outside. 
“No, nothing. That’s so weird.” Your brother slowly closed the doors. “It kind of sounded like it was-”
A loud crashing noise pulled a scream from Kie, all of you gasping in shock as none other than Chandler Groff stumbled his way inside.
Cleo’s grasp on your arm lightened but she held her knife steady toward the man as he gave mumbled apologies. If your heart wasn’t racing before, it sure as shit was now. 
The unwelcome visitor turned his attention to the boy behind you. “JJ. You made it. I uh, I’m sorry to bother you here. I swam, I swam all the way in.”
“Oh my god,” Sarah breathed in shock, taking the opportunity to move closer to John B for comfort.
You turned to see JJ’s expression drop, annoyance taking over all his features as he watched the man who claimed to be his real dad lean against the doorway. “What are you doing here?”
Groff shook his head, clearing his throat with a loud cough that made you flinch. “I had nowhere… nowhere else to go, son.”
The name made JJ wince slightly and you suddenly wanted to rewind to 5 minutes ago when all of you were much happier and celebrating something positive. You watched carefully as his face went stoic and he leaned the ore against the wall, shifting past you to loop an arm under Groff’s and help him inside. 
John B turned to you with a look and all you could really do was shrug in response. You obviously weren’t thrilled with what was supposed to be a night for the two of you was suddenly out of your hands. 
Groff clambered messily into a chair as JJ went to reach for water from the fridge. You stood quietly, watching the scene with uncertainty. Sarah had come to join your other side, Cleo still on guard next to you. She didn’t trust this man, and honestly, neither did you. And now he’s running to you guys for help?
You walked up to JJ, your palm easing across his back to his shoulder blades. He didn’t seem happy about Groff being here, making you question what had happened on Goat Island before you arrived. Neither of you really had a chance to talk about it, and you regretted not checking in with him prior.
“Is it true?” Your question was quiet, meant to be shared with only you and JJ. Unfortunately, it wasn’t.
“Is it true that I’m JJ’s biological father? Yes.”
Your gaze was sharp as you regarded the man sitting just across from you. “I wasn’t asking you.”
Groff sighed and looked down. “I don’t deserve the title. And you have a right not to trust me, I understand. I could’ve done better by him, I know that. I look forward to telling you all about it.”
JJ shook his head, turning toward you so he didn’t have to stare at the sight in front of him and could redirect his gaze on you. Your hand dropped from his back, unconsciously following down his arm so you could twist your fingers with his, keeping him close. 
“I’m afraid time is short. We’re all in danger here. Let me guess,” He pointed over your shoulder to where John B had tossed the tube that contained the rolled map. “You open that packing tube over there and find a scroll inside, but you can’t read it. That scroll is encrypted.”
“How do you know that?” John B returned.
“Because if you took that from the Corsairs, I suspect that you are in possession of the Mogador scroll, created by Barbary pirates in 1703. The Lupine Corsairs are dangerous mercenaries. Now you’ve stolen from them.”
You rolled your eyes, having zero interest in this man’s monologue. If you were in danger, having him here did not help in the slightest. 
“Okay, so what exactly is this Mogador?” Pope asked. If anyone could put together the pieces of this, it would be him.
“It’s…a map.”
Cleo almost groaned next to you. “We aware of that, man. To where?”
Groff continued, “Well, if I knew the answer to that, I’d be a very rich man. But I can tell you who made it. Murad the Younger.”
The name sparked in your head, familiar but not quite recognizable. You glanced at John B to see him already looking at you. “Murad?” He repeated. 
“Oh, you know him? Groff asked, looking between the two of you. “Barbary pirate, slaver. In 1703, a Berber shepherd gave Murad a gold coin as tribute. He asked the shepherd where he’d gotten the coin, and after some persuasion, the Berber told him about a hidden vault in the desert filled with gold. And one other very special item.”
“The Blue Crown,” John B answered softly.
Groff turned to him, curious. “So, you know what it is?”
Sarah cleared her throat purposefully as your brother tried to back track. “Uh, it’s uh… my dad was a historian.”
“It was practically a bedtime story,” You tried to reinforce John B’s excuse and shot him a look.
“What is it though? The crown thing?” Kie asked as she pulled herself up on the table next to Sarah. 
“A mythical artifact,” Groff explained, “And if you trust the legends, a dangerous weapon capable of granting wishes and rendering enemies defenseless.”
You almost scoffed at the ridiculous reasoning, but Cleo was happy to voice her skepticism, “And you believe that?”
Groff shook his head. “No, of course not, but it’s invaluable. I’m looking for it just like you, and if I could help you find it, I’d… just want to get my cut. Nothing more.”
“If they found it 300 years ago, there’s no way that magic cap is still there,” JJ said, his foot nudging yours gently. 
“Maybe, maybe not. See Murad was encamped in Essaouira, in what’s now Morocco. Before he had a chance to follow the map, it was stolen by a young woman named Elizabeth Howell, who later became Blackbeard’s future wife. He helped her elude her captors, and the two of them escaped to the Carolinas with the map. The rest of their lives they wondered, was there really a vault in the desert that held the crown? On the day he died-”
“He left Elizabeth with the map,” Sarah cut him off, her boredom winning as you all listened to this man ramble. 
Groff nodded. “And now, you have it. But you can’t read it, right? You need a lens, a special lens. A piece of refracted crystal encased with a chain. Elizabeth Teach had that lens when she was killed at Blackstone.”
You exchanged a glance with JJ before facing Chandler. “So, let me guess. You uh, you have that lens.”
He made a dramatic effort to act all upset and looked down. “Not in my possession, no. But I know where it is.”
JJ squeezed your hand slightly. “Where?”
“Your mother’s grave.”
You groaned softly, dropping JJ’s hand to cover your face and rub at the skin like it could wash away all of your annoyance with this conversation. All of this history talk was making your brain hurt and you really, really didn’t like that you’d lost this entire night to JJ’s supposed dad who had no business showing up here. 
“I, um, I’m gonna go to bed,” You excused yourself, giving JJ a rushed kiss before almost running out of the room. Various chatter followed your departure, but you swung yourself up the stairs without another word. Stopping in John B and Sarah’s room to grab your clothes from earlier, you were quick to change into the comfy attire and retreat to your hammock on the balcony, wanting nothing more than peace and quiet. 
“Babe?” JJ wasn’t very far behind you, coming out to stand over you as you settled into the material. “You okay?”
You sighed, hands rubbing at your tired eyes as the alcohol and weed wore off, leaving you slightly buzzed and just tired. “Yeah, just didn’t wanna keep listening to him.”
JJ reached out for you, his hand grabbing yours as you swayed slowly. “This is not how I imagined this night going. Was supposed to celebrate with you, in every way possible.” He leaned down to rub his nose against yours gently, eliciting a small laugh before you kissed him softly.
“Not your fault,” You whispered. “Please tell me someone’s down there with him.”
JJ brushed a hair from your face gently. “Pope’s picking his brain while Cleo plays guard dog. Sarah said she needed to talk to John B.”
You nodded, hoping she was talking to him about what you thought she would be. “Are you okay?”
The hesitation told you that no, he wasn’t, but he didn’t know what else to do. JJ took the opportunity to slide into the hammock next to you, practically flopping on you so his head rested on your chest, and you welcomed the embrace. He was so warm against you and you truly cherished the moment as the first one you two had shared alone after the proposal.
“Love you,” You whispered quietly, leaning to kiss his head as your fingers sorted through his hair. 
“Love you too.”
--
John B was a shit liar. You had been able to clock him so easily growing up, and unfortunately (for him), Sarah was just as good at it.
So when Sarah came into the room and very shakily asked to talk to him, he was nervous. He didn’t know what she was going to ask, or say, and he wasn’t mentally prepared. But she seemed really scared, so he couldn’t say no. 
“I’m pregnant.”
The words practically smacked him in the face, his whole body going into shock as he tried to wrap his head around the concept. Sarah, his Sarah, pregnant. 
“You’re pregnant?” He repeated the phrase, keeping his tone as neutral as possible even though a little bit of shock slipped in. He wasn’t sure how she felt about this and wanted to tread carefully. She was teary and nodded. “You’re… pregnant?”
“Mhmm,” She answered, her whole body filled with nerves. Sarah had been through so much shit, but she could confidently say this was the scariest moment of her life that regarded her relationship with John B.
The idea was starting to visualize in his head and he nodded. “We’re pregnant.”
Sarah’s heart clenched in her chest. “Yeah.”
“O-okay. Um…”
“I’m really, really scared,” She admitted shakily, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to do this, I know you don’t know how to do this. And we’re… so young. And I know the timing’s probably terrible. And I know you and JJ wanna go after that crown, but-”
“Hey, come here. I’ve got you.” John B shushed her, gently pulling her into his lap as she sobbed, terrified of what was to come. 
She sunk into his arms, shaking as she hugged him tightly against her. “I’m just really scared, I was really scared to tell you, but your sister said I should, and…”
John B nearly choked on his own air at the mention of you knowing. “She knows?”
Sarah pulled back a little to look at him, nodding. “Yeah, she’s the first one I told.”
Your brother nearly threw up at the idea, knowing you hadn’t told him which meant you’d been keeping enough bottled up since whenever you found out. “Oh, shit.”
Sarah frowned at his identical reaction to Kie. “What?”
John B shook his head. “No, nothing, it’s-”
“No.” Sarah gave him a particular look, one that froze him in his spot and usually got her the answer she was looking for. “Why does everyone react with oh shit when they hear that she knows?”
John B took a deep breath and weighed his options. Either he told Sarah the truth and sent her into a guilty spiral with the information, or he told her to ask you and watched her feel even worse when the news came from you.
“I um…” John B tilted his head back with a sigh, keeping his hands anchored on Sarah’s hips to hold her steady as she repeated his name. “She… when we were at the church, in Charleston, I asked her what had happened before we left. I didn’t know it was Rafe at the time, but she started asking me all these questions about our conversation on the ferry and kids, and-”
“John B,” Sarah interrupted him softly, recalling his focus.
“She can’t…she can’t have kids.”
Sarah’s heart nearly shattered in her chest and the tears built up all over again. “What?” Her voice cracked as she looked at John B, his own eyes teary at the repetition of your conversation in his head. “Are.. is she sure?”
John B nodded. “It was, after everything with Rafe, when we were gone a-and-”
Sarah stood abruptly, her brother’s name enough to make her lunch threaten to come back up. “I’ve gotta talk to her.”
“Wait, wait!”
John B took off after her, following her rushed steps as she climbed the stairs with the intention of getting to you. “Sarah, wait!”
Sarah wished she had listened. She wished she had taken a moment to stop and think about what she would say to you, because the moment she opened your door, she was met with JJ’s raised voice. She was met with JJ, standing in the middle of the room, his loud frustration directed at your crying form that was across from him.
But that wasn’t what made Sarah so nervous.
It was the pregnancy test, the one she had taken earlier, in JJ’s hand, the two positive lines staring back at her as he pointed it at you with an intention that made her want to throw up. 
And when Sarah made eye contact with you, she realized how truly, truly fucked up this whole thing was about to be.
--
a/n: so.... i'm sorry?
anyway, listen to how much do you love me by kelsea ballerini
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luvlyycy · 3 days ago
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— a/n : , , thought this up w @cindol in a legit heartbeat ! bestfriend!sukuna... my beloved . . maybe I'll make a pt 2 iunno!
wc : , , 1k + !
summary : , , sukuna punches ur bf thats it. thats the fic. (angst/comfort)
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Sukuna hates it. Everytime he looks at your face he's reminded of how weak and vulnerable he becomes. It's the classic sun and moon duo, and he hates it.
You're always going to him for your 'boy' problems, painting his nails as you yap on about this one boy in your class. You say how handsome he is or how nice his hands look. You've never said anything like that about him, but he doesn't care; or he tells himself that.
He'll often leave snacks on your table before your lectures, or drinks next to you at lunch. It's a small reminder that he cares about you.
Everyone says that he's a bad influence on such a kind, pretty girl like you. You never listen. Glued to his side as you walk down the long hallways, his piercings and black leather jacket a contrast to your beautiful outfit, the complete opposite of his.
You don't share dorms, and he wishes he put his pride aside and requested that you did. It's bothersome, having to make his routine of walking to your dorm, catching the eyes and hearing rumors of the two of you dating on the way.
Although, the snacks he hold are currently on the floor as the door opens, his lip curling upward and nose flaring in anger as he spots him— Satoru Gojo.
"What the fuck—"
He's leant against the door, a shit eating grin plastered on the face he's ready to punch the shit out of.
Is that lipstick on his fucking neck?
"Small world, huh?" Gojo chuckles out, turning around to face you, then back at Sukuna, "Guess I should tell ya. We're datin' now." .
There's a loud crash and a blur that you see as your boyfriend stumbles backwards, his hand holding his jaw.
Sukuna punched your boyfriend.
Sukuna just fucking punched your boyfriend.
You exclaim with a loud 'what the fuck' and get up from the bed, the blanket falling to pool around your legs.
Sukuna grits his teeth together as he sees you.. clad in panties and an oversized black shirt.
He begins to laugh and turns right back to Gojo, finally noticing that he's shirtless. He barks out a loud laugh and places his hand over his face, "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."
Gojo throws his hands up, "What the hell is your problem?!" and Sukuna stops to look at you, then back at Gojo.
He points at the both of you, "Whatever the fuck this is, I don't want to be in between it. If I am in between it— your fucking little punk ass boyfriend— is getting punched again."
"Again?" Gojo laughs out, stepping closer to Sukuna, "Who the fuck do you think you are?"
You sharply yell out Gojo's name but Sukuna speaks over you, "Doesn't fucking matter you puss—" a loud 'thwack!' is heard as you see your best friend this time stumble backwards.
Blood runs down Sukuna's nose before he wipes his messily with his thumb, bringing up his fists in a messy fighting stance. He's far too angry to fight for real.
You've seen him fight, and it's nothing like what you're seeing.
They're going back and forth, Sukuna punching Gojo in places that are sure to bruise within a few hours. Gojo pushes Sukuna against the wall with his forearm against his neck as he spits some awful insults into his face, only for Sukuna to spit his own blood directly onto his cheek.
You hear Sukuna laugh, and before you know it, you're wailing; sobbing like a baby if you will.
They both turn to you, Gojo still holding a squirming Sukuna against the wall.
You've never liked violence— and Sukuna can't help but wonder, is that why you chose Gojo? Was he too.. violent?
"Get the fuck off of me— She needs me—" Sukuna shouts and Gojo cuts him off, "She doesn't need you, she needs me."
Oh. Oh.
He's right. Gojo's ... right.
His ears are ringing as he watches you cry, feeling Gojo inevitably let up on his neck and make his way over to you. He cradles you, his hands on your cheeks as he wipes your tears and snot away.
He can't tell if he's lightheaded or he's about to cry. He doesn't want to know. He doesn't say anything, just makes his way toward the door, exiting out and stepping over the drinks and snacks he had dropped earlier.
You don't need him.
Sukuna shuts the door and looks down at his hands, turning them over to look at his visibly red and bloody knuckles. More eyes are peering at him as he walks down the hallway.
It feels empty despite all the people out of their rooms due to the commotion. His phone is buzzing in his pocket the whole time, no doubt that it's you but he doesn't check.
You don't need him.
His chest fucking hurts, and he feels his eyes tear up for once. He frowns, still tasting the blood from his busted lip.
You don't need him.
Once he gets to his room, he undresses and plops down onto his bed— he's lost. He doesn't know what to do until—
He does.
He ignores you for a week, maybe two.
He often finds himself looking at the messages you sent, endless questions flooding his messages but the last one stands out.
It simply reads, 'what did i do?'.
You never needed him that's what you did. He slaps his hands against his face as he gets ready for a day of ignoring you again, he pulls a plain hoodie over his head.
He notices the nail polish on his nails is chipped almost completely off. Probably some weird metaphor for your and his friendship.
He makes his way out the door, almost recieving a heart attack as he sees you— eyes puffy and red, only in an oversized shirt and sweatpants.
" 'Kuna." you sniff, hands wiping your eyes, "What'd I do? Why did you punch Gojo? What happened?" you whine in the hallway.
Eventually you're yanked into his room and placed onto his bed, still lightly sobbing as you look up at Sukuna.
"I just, felt like punching him."
"Bull fuckin shit."
Potty mouth.
He sighs, wiping your eyes like he'd usually do before that day.
"It's fine. Don't worry about it. You don't need me." You're silent, and he looks dead serious.
"....What?"
"You don't—" "No, I heard you. I'm just, confused."
He frowns, this is the first time he's said it out loud, let alone explain it.
"I- I do need you!" you suddenly exclaim, hands gripping onto his wrists, "Fuck, Sukuna, I need you so bad." he watches more tears spill and he can't help but frown even more.
"No, you don't—"
"I do!" you cut him off, sobbing, "Remember when I had my period and had no pads? You got them for me. Or, or, whenever I got depressed you would stay in my room and make sure I ate and drank. You don't remember that? Or, when you beat up those guys who tried to bully me?? Or when... I had those silly nightmares—" you let out a soft hiccup, "and you let me sleep in your room and hug you until I fell asleep?".
He stares at you.
"I do need you, more than anyhing."
If he wanted to be vulnerable, he'd be crying right beside you, instead he whispers your name.
He crouches in front of you, a weak smile spreading across his lips as he watches you weakly reciprocate.
You laugh, and he does too, "We're fucking idiots." he laughs out, moving closer to you.
You place your hands softly on his cheeks and look at his face, "It's all my fault— I was stupid, and didn't realize in time and, and, I left Gojo when you guys fought—" he sighs.
It takes a few moments for you to realize but he kissed you.
He finally kissed you. You both melt into each other, molding into the perfect mix of night 'n day. It sparks, like the stars in the night sky and your brain clears like a sunny day.
He pulls away to whisper, "Sleep in my room." you giggle, "It's not even nighttime." and he spares a moment to smile, "Yeah, and? You need a nap."
"I do. I do need a nap actually."
You do need him.
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rafesbabygirlx · 23 hours ago
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Time Alone - Drew x GF!Reader
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Masterlist
Summary: you and Drew have crazy work schedules. Finally having time off work you go and spend it with him in South Carolina when he films. Even being there with him it’s hard to find time alone, until it isn’t.
A/N: wrote this on my phone so my theme is not present here. Just too good not to post. Also not really proofread since it was done on my phone and I hate google docs on my phone.
Warnings: SMUT - car sex, oral, riding
Inspired by @rafescokewhore anons finding his Apple Music playlists. Been thinking about this for a while. 🤭
You and Drew drive home from set, the cool evening air filling the car as the hum of the engine fades into the background. You’re visiting him for a couple of weeks while he’s filming, but this is the first real alone time you’ve had since you arrived. He’s been either on set or surrounded by the cast at the apartments, and by the time you both make it to bed, you’re usually too tired to even talk.
The car ride is mostly silent, the two of you holding hands as one of his playlists plays in the background. There’s a comfortable intimacy in the quiet, a kind of connection that doesn’t need words.
When he pulls into his spot in the dark parking lot, the air between you shifts. He turns off the car, the music still playing, and looks at you with an expression that sends a flutter through your stomach.
“Pull down your shorts,” he says, his tone casual but firm.
You blink at him, startled. “Huh?”
Before you can fully process what’s happening, he’s already reaching over, his fingers deftly working at the button of your shorts. His determined expression makes you burst into giggles, but the sound catches in your throat as he tugs your shorts and underwear down in one swift motion, tossing them into the back seat.
Your body shifts instinctively, pressing your back against the passenger-side door as Drew adjusts himself. He kneels in the driver’s seat, gently lifting one of your legs to drape over the backrest and he pulls you up so your ass is on the center console.
His movements are unhurried but purposeful. His lips brush your inner thigh, trailing heat in their wake before his mouth descends. The first flick of his tongue against your clit sends a jolt through you, a loud moan escaping your lips.
Without breaking rhythm, his free hand reaches for the volume knob, turning up the music to drown out your sounds, just in case anyone happens to pass by. “Those sounds are just for me.” He looks up at you eyes full of lust.
He’s relentless, his tongue and fingers working together as if he’s savoring every reaction he draws from you. His mouth moves with a feverish intensity, exploring every inch of you as your body arches against the door, lost in the moment.
Your moans grow louder as Drew’s movements intensify. His tongue circles your entrance before trailing back to your clit, sending waves of heat through your body. His fingers slide inside you with an almost teasing slowness, curling just right to make you gasp. You can’t help but thread your fingers into his scalp, gripping tightly, nails digging to his head as his mouth continues its work.
“Drew,” you whisper, your voice shaky, barely audible over the music.
He glances up at you, his eyes dark with focus, but he doesn’t stop. If anything, the look in your eyes seems to spur him on, his movements becoming more deliberate, more consuming.
The windows are fogged now, the small car feeling like its own secret world. The outside doesn’t matter—just Drew, the music, and the intoxicating pull of the moment.
Your chest rises and falls quickly, sending out shallow gasps as Drew’s tongue works hard against you. His lips latch onto your clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue in maddening circles. His fingers curl inside you, pressing against that perfect spot that makes your back arch and your moans uncontrollable.
Your hips move instinctively against him, chasing the building pressure. He adjusts slightly, his other hand gripping your thigh to keep you steady as his tongue moves with maddening precision. The pleasure swells, consuming you until all you can do is hold onto him, gasping his name as your body trembles.
“Fuck, Drew,” you whimper, your fingers r moving around his head as your hips continue to buck against his mouth.
He lets out a low growl of approval, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure through you. His grip on your thigh tightens, holding you in place as he devours you like he’s starving.
“You taste so fucking good,” he murmurs against you, his voice muffled but rough with hunger. He dips his tongue inside you, his nose brushing against your clit, and the sensation makes you cry out.
The car is sweltering now, the heat inside making you forget it’s winter, but neither of you care. The world outside feels miles away—right now, it’s just you, Drew, and the overwhelming heat pooling in your core.
He pulls back slightly, his lips glistening, and looks up at you with that wicked smirk you know too well. “You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?”
You nod frantically, barely able to form words as he slides his fingers back inside you, curling them just right. His mouth finds your clit again, sucking hard, and your whole body tenses as the pressure inside you builds to a breaking point.
“Come on, baby,” he urges, his voice dark and commanding. “I want to feel you fall apart on my tongue.”
The sound of his voice, the filthy promise in his words, sends you over the edge. Your body shakes as the orgasm crashes through you, your cries spilling out uncontrollably. Drew doesn’t let up, his mouth and fingers working you through every wave of pleasure until you’re left trembling, completely spent.
He finally pulls back, his lips slick and swollen, and sits back in the driver’s seat, his chest rising and falling as he watches you. “God, you’re fucking beautiful when you come,” he says, his voice thick with lust.
You’re still catching your breath, your body slumped against the door, when you notice the bulge in his pants. He follows your gaze, smirking as he adjusts himself.
“You think I’m just letting it end there?” he asks, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down just enough to free himself.
Your eyes widen slightly, heat rushing back through your body as he strokes himself slowly, his gaze locked on you.
“Come here,” he commands, his voice low and dripping with need.
You crawl over the center console, straddling him as his hands find your hips, guiding you down onto him. The stretch is perfect, and you let out a soft moan as he fills you completely.
“That’s it,” he groans, his hands gripping you tightly. “Ride me, baby.”
You move slowly at first, your bodies pressed together in the cramped space of the car. His mouth finds yours, the kiss hot and messy, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. His hands guide your hips, urging you to go faster, harder, until the sound of skin against skin fills the car, mixing with your moans and the bass of the music still playing in the background.
Every thrust hits deep, and you’re both lost in the heat of it, your bodies moving together in perfect rhythm. The car rocks slightly with your movements, the world outside completely forgotten as you chase another high together.
“Fuck,” he groans against your neck, his breath hot on your skin. “You’re so tight, so fucking perfect.”
His words send you spiraling closer to the edge again, and as his hand slips between your bodies to rub your clit, it’s all too much. Your second orgasm hits you even harder than the first, your body clenching around him as he thrusts up into you, his own release following soon after.
You collapse against his chest, both of you panting and spent, the air in the car thick with heat and filled with the scent of sex. His fingers trail lazily along your spine as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. He reaches over and turns down his music that was just blasting.
“Now that,” he murmurs, his voice still breathless, “is how you make the most of alone time.”
You laugh weakly, shaking your head as you pull back to look at him. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you love it,” he replies, his grin smug and entirely unapologetic.
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starkeysmoon · 2 days ago
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KNOTS AND KISSES
pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader
summary: after a long day at hogwarts, mattheo surprises you by offering to untangle your hair, revealing a softer side you didn’t expect.
content: fluff, mutual pinning, no established relationship, suggestive language, kissing.
words: 1,853
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the castle had settled into a hushed stillness, the kind that only came when most students had retreated to their dorms.
you sat on your bed, freshly showered but too tired to deal with the mess of damp, tangled hair sticking to your shoulders.
the soft glow of enchanted fairy lights shimmered across your room, casting gentle shadows on the walls.
just as exhaustion began pulling at your limbs, a soft knock broke the silence, and before you could respond, the door creaked open.
“you’re going to get hexed one day for not locking your door,” mattheo muttered as he stepped inside, his smirk already firmly in place.
his dark eyes flicked over you, taking in your pajama-clad form and the damp strands clinging to your face.
“though i suppose if i’m the one sneaking in, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
you arched a brow at him, too tired to fight the grin tugging at your lips. “is this your way of saying you missed me, riddle, or are you just bored?”
he shut the door behind him with a soft click, the smirk deepening as he crossed the room. “can’t it be both?”
you rolled your eyes as a laugh escaped from your lips, flopping back against your pillows. “what are you even doing here? do you plan to charm my hairbrush to attack me?”
he pushed off the doorframe and strolled over to you, his gaze lingering on the damp strands clinging to your face. “doesn’t look like i’d need to. your hair’s already doing half the job.”
“wow. insightful as ever, mattheo,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.
he chuckled, low and warm, as he perched himself on the edge of your bed. “bad day?” he asked, his voice laced with concern, but you could already hear the teasing in it.
you turned your head toward the door, only to find him leaning against the frame, arms crossed, a grin spreading across his face.
“i’m fine,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes.
“just… too tired to deal with this,” you said, motioning vaguely at your tangled hair.
mattheo raised an eyebrow. “too tired? or too lazy?”
you gave him a playful glare. “i prefer ‘tired.’”
he walked over to the bed, his smirk still in place, but his eyes softened when they landed on you. “i think i can help with that,” he said, as if he'd already made up his mind.
“help? how?” you raised an eyebrow, suspicious of what he meant.
“well, you don’t have to untangle your hair if you’re that tired,” he said, his voice practically dripping with mischief. “i’ll do it for you.”
“you?” you blinked, unable to hide your amusement. “you’re going to untangle my hair?”
“don’t sound so surprised,” he drawled, though his smirk betrayed his amusement. “i’m full of hidden talents.”
you couldn't help but laugh at the idea.
“like what? bothering me until i lose my mind?”
“that’s one of my favorites,” he admitted, moving to sit down on the bed next to you, patting his lap, gesturing impatiently.
“now, are you going to sit down, or are we going to spend all night arguing?”
you narrowed your eyes at him, though you couldn’t stop a small smile from playing at the corner of your lips. “this better not be some trap to mess with me.”
“i’m offended,” he teased, his voice light and playful.
“just sit, and let me work my magic.” he patted his lap again, the mischievous glint in his eyes growing stronger.
sighing dramatically, you rolled your eyes, but there was no resisting him. you climbed onto his lap, positioning yourself so you were sitting comfortably with your back against his chest.
hesitating for only a moment, you shifted to sit on the bed, your back pressed against his chest as you settled into his lap. his hands immediately found your hair, the warmth of his palms startling against your cool, damp skin.
“you’ve done this before?” you asked, more out of curiosity than doubt.
“maybe,” he said, his tone deliberately cryptic as his fingers worked through the knots with surprising gentleness.
“what does maybe mean?” you pressed, craning your neck to glance at him.
“it means don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” he said, smirking down at you.
you huffed, but the way his fingers combed through your hair was oddly soothing, and you felt yourself relax against him.
“you’re quiet,” he noted after a moment, his tone light. “you’re not plotting my demise, are you?”
“not yet,” you murmured, closing your eyes. “this is suspiciously nice, though.”
he chuckled, low and warm, the vibration of it against your back sending a strange flutter through your chest. “what can i say? i’m full of surprises.”
the two of you fell into an easy rhythm, the sound of his voice mingling with the soft crackle of the candlelight as you chatted.
you teased him about his hair-braiding skills, or lack thereof, and he retaliated by pretending to tug too hard, only to gently smooth his fingers through the strands again.
at one point, he paused, his hands lingering in your hair. “you know,” he said quietly, almost hesitantly, “this isn’t so bad.”
“what isn’t?” you asked, turning your head slightly to glance at him.
“this,” he said, gesturing vaguely between you both. “not... being alone all the time.”
his admission caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. but then you reached up, your fingers brushing against his, and you smiled.
“i trust you,” you said softly, feeling the weight of his words in the space between you.
his gaze softened, his fingers pausing in your hair before he continued gently untangling it.
“you do?” his voice was low, surprised in a way that made your chest tighten.
you nodded, feeling the quiet shift between you both. “yeah. even if you are a pain in the arse sometimes.”
he snorted softly, but there was a warmth in his smile. “you know, you’re lucky you’re cute when you’re being stubborn.”
his fingers carefully tugged at a particularly tough knot, and you winced.
“sorry,” he murmured, his voice softening. “i won’t hurt you.”
you laughed. “you’re lucky i like you. otherwise, i might just hex you for putting me in this position.”
“oh, please,” he scoffed, but there was no malice in his voice.
“as if you could live without me.” he tugged on your hair again, this time with much more care.
“hmm, true,” you admitted, letting your eyes close for a moment, enjoying the warmth of his body and the soothing rhythm of his fingers. “you’re pretty hard to get rid of.”
“you’re welcome,” he said with mock humility, and you could feel the grin on his face against the back of your head. “this is just me being a good…friend.”
“good friend, huh?” you teased, your voice light and playful. “who knew you had it in you.”
“you’re the only one who gets to see this side of me, you know,” he muttered, voice surprisingly soft as he continued working through your hair, his hands gentle now. “so enjoy it while it lasts.”
you felt a warmth settle in your chest at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile, even though you tried to play it off.
“you really are soft underneath all that sarcasm,” you teased, your voice warm with affection.
“and you’re not fooling anyone with that fake tough-girl act,” he shot back with a grin, though it was obvious he was enjoying the moment just as much as you were.
his fingers worked through another knot before he reached for a strand near the back of your head, tugging it with an exaggerated grunt.
“how did this even happen? seriously, it’s like you’ve been wrestling with a hippogriff.”
“i do have a very busy life, you know,” you quipped, reaching up to lightly smack his arm. “you’re lucky i’m letting you do this. don’t mess it up.”
“mess it up?” he echoed, his voice dripping with confidence. “i told you i’m a professional.”
you snorted. “right.”
you felt his chest rumble with laughter, the sound so close to your ear that it sent a shiver down your spine.
he was so close to you, and in this simple, sweet moment, everything felt just a little bit more perfect.
“well, i think i’m done,” he said after a moment, gently setting your hair down, and you could feel the soft caress of his hands against your skin.
you turned in his lap to face him, feeling your heart race as you met his eyes.
“you actually did a good job,” you said, a teasing smile curling at the corner of your lips. “i’m impressed.”
“thank you,” he said, grinning back at you. “i told you. i’m good at everything.”
“everything, huh?” you leaned closer, your breath mixing with his as you smiled. “prove it.”
before he could respond, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a kiss that was anything but soft.
he tasted of warmth, familiarity, and affection. he didn’t pull away, his arms tightening around you in response.
and for that moment, with his fingers still tangled in your hair and his lips against yours, the world outside your little bubble of comfort didn’t matter.
it was just the two of you, tangled together in the way only you could understand.
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bloomzone · 2 days ago
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Do you ever feel like SHIT? Like life is moving so fast, and you’re stuck, tired, or completely drained? cuz same 🙋🏻‍♀️. That’s why I started looking into Japanese and Chinese habits—because I'm searching for slow down type of lifestyle, finding balance, and creating small moments of peace in the dawm chaos. Now, I know some of y’all will say, 'It’s overrated, you’re just obsessed with China or Japan,' but hear me out these habits aren’t about trends—they’re rooted in centuries and they’ve genuinely helped me improve both physically and mentally. If you’re ready to stop just surviving and start thriving, keep reading. These little changes might just change your life too.
Little Habits, Big Glow: Japanese & Chinese Traditions That Changed My Life part 1:
First off, warm water in the MORNING. I used to roll out of bed and go straight for coffee or cold ass water cuz my throat is DRYYYY , and honestly, my body hated me for it fr. But then I read about how in Chinese medicine, drinking warm water first thing in the morning is seen as a way to wake up your body gently. And let me tell you, IT WORK. No bloating, no sluggishness—just a simple, calming way to start the day. Sometimes I add a slice of lemon, and it feels like I’m doing something kind for my body before I even check my phone
Two Ikigai.( I talked Abt Ikigai and how to achieve this concept click here!) Japanese concept changed the way I see my day-to-day life. It’s basically finding purpose in the little things—like, not waiting for some huge life-changing moment to feel fulfilled. I used to put so much pressure on myself, thinking I needed to achieve these massive goals to be happy. But Ikigai taught me to slow down and find joy in small things, like enjoying my morning tea or journaling. It’s a game-changer for anyone who feels like they’re always chasing something bigger.
Another thing I’ve started doing is Tai Chi or qing gong. I know I know—it looks slow and kind of boring, but hear me out. It’s like moving meditation, and if you’re someone who struggles with anxiety (like meeey), this will center you like nothing else. It’s not about burning calories or anything like that; it’s about connecting your body and mind in the most peaceful way. Even just 10 minutes a day leaves me feeling lighter and more focused. (Click here to watch a video of it) When I first started, I thought, 'This is way too slow for me.' But then something clicked. The slowness is the point. It forces you to focus on your breathing, your posture, and every little movement. It’s like a moving meditation that clears your mind while strengthening your body.
© bloomzone
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tortillamastersblog · 3 days ago
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Back To You - Part 4 | Sam Carpenter
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Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader
Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing
Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.
Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .
Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist
_______________________________________________
Present
Billy Loomis is Sam’s real dad. . .
Tara’s words and her recount of her conversation with Sam makes all the puzzle pieces fall into place.
That’s why Sam snuck into my room all those years ago. That’s why she changed so much after, and that’s why she left.
It all makes sense now, but it doesn’t change the fact that she hurt Tara by leaving, hurt me by leaving. It also doesn’t change the fact that she wasn’t there for me when I needed her to most. When I begged her to come back and she just screamed at me to stop calling without even letting me explain why I was calling in the first place.
I’m feeling so many things right now, it’s kind of overwhelming, but I try my best to stay calm so I don’t freak Tara out.
She’s been moved to a private floor since Sam left and slept earlier while I called Liam and Paige again. Now, she’s awake once more, curled into my side while we’re watching a movie together.
I really try to focus on what’s going on, but my mind keeps drifting back to Sam.
She could have talked to me! She could have told me about her real dad. Why didn’t she? Did she think I was going to hate her for it? Did she think I would stop being her friend if I knew?
I wouldn’t have done any of that. Who her father is doesn’t change who she is. At least that’s my opinion. She must think otherwise, because if she didn’t, she wouldn’t have left.
I’m mad at her for abandoning Tara and leaving me. I’m sad she felt like she couldn’t talk to me, and I’m heartbroken thinking about how she tried to numb her pain by doing every drug imaginable and sleeping with anyone who would have her.
I still love her, that’s for sure because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be feeling like this, but I’m just not sure love is enough for me to forgive and forget everything she’s done.
“Hey.” Tara’s voice and her finger poking my chin snaps me out of my thoughts.
I clear my throat quietly and look down at her. “Yeah?”
“You okay?” she asks, her kind brown eyes darting between my own.
“No, not really, Sprout.” Tara wrinkles her nose and I chuckle. She’s never liked that nickname. “But I will be, and so will you.“
“You sure?” she asks and I nod.
“I’m sure. Now watch the movie, or I’m changing it,” I tease, making her laugh softly.
“Okay, okay. . .” She looks me over one last time before turning her attention back to the movie, mumbling, “You’re so annoying.”
I just hum and scratch her head, settling deeper into the bed and actually focusing on the movie. Thoughts of Sam are still swirling around in the back of my mind, but I ignore them as best as I can.
About half an hour later, the movie is still playing and, much to my surprise, I’m actually invested in the story now.
Some shuffling and a grunt in the hallway outside makes me look away from the TV though. We’re on a private floor and no one but Deputy Vinson should be here. A nurse comes in every two hours or so to check on Tara, but she was just here before we started the movie.
Alarm bells almost instantly go off in the back of my head, but I don’t want to scare Tara, so I stay calm and shout, “Hello?”
There’s no answer.
“Vinson?”
Again, nothing.
My stomach drops. This is not good. This is not good, at all.
“Y/N?” Tara whispers fearfully, the beeping sound of her heart rate monitor next to the bed speeding up.
I swallow thickly and continue to stare at the open doorway, straining my ears to hear anything else. It stays quiet though, and with every second that passes, the uneasiness in the pit of my stomach grows.
“Y/N,” Tara whimpers and when our eyes meet I see the fear I’m feeling inside reflected back at me.
He’s back. It’s Ghostface. It has to be him. He’s returned to finish the job.
I can feel my own heart rate picking up speed, and after another beat of silence, I decide that we have to leave. We’re sitting ducks if we stay.
“Fuck this.” I swallow again and nod to myself before pushing the blanket to the bottom of the bed. “We’re leaving, Sprout.”
Tara’s eyes widen and she doesn’t protest when I disconnect the IV from the back of her hand. For a moment, she’s frozen, watching me disconnect her from all the machines she’s attached to, before springing into action herself.
With shaking hands, she removes the oxygen tube while I get up and pull the nearby wheelchair to the side of the bed.
I won’t be able to do anything with only one arm, so even though it hurts and I know I’m probably going to tear my stitches, I take off my sling.
I wince at the stinging pain that shoots through my neck and arm, but grit my teeth and help Tara with the rest of the wires. Then I make sure the wheelchair’s breaks are on before turning back to the bed.
“We have to get moving, c’mon. I know this is going to hurt, but we have to go,” I say, slipping my arms under Tara’s knees and under her back. I don’t lift her yet though, waiting for her to nod before hoisting her up.
The gasp she lets out makes me hurt for her, but I can’t stop now.
We have to leave.
Carefully, I lift her out of the bed and place her in the wheelchair, making sure I don’t bump her broken leg against anything.
My shoulder protests, screaming in pain even though Tara is easy to lift, but I don’t stop moving especially when the lights suddenly go out.
We have to leave, now!
Tara whimpers in fear and in pain, and I rush to turn off the breaks on the wheelchair before pushing her to the doorway.
He’s here. I know it.
I peek into the ominously dark hallway all while trying not to let panic take over my mind.
Fear is healthy, panic is deadly.
That’s what my father taught me, and I know if we’re going to get out of this alive, I have to keep a clear head.
The hallway is empty, and the only way out is by getting to the elevator at the end of the hallway, so I slowly push Tara out of the room, keeping my eyes and ears open for any movement near by.
Just get to the elevator.
The deafening sound of Tara’s phone ringing on the bedside table back in her room makes both of us jump for a moment.
Tara sobs quietly, and I tighten my grip on the wheelchair.
I glance over my shoulder, seeing the screen of the phone light up the room before turning back around. There’s no time to get it now, and even less time to answer it.
I push Tara into the hallway, slowly and quietly while letting my eyes dart around in the darkness for any sign of danger.
It still eerily quiet though and I don’t see anything, so I continue pushing her until we get to the nurses’ station.
That’s where a chocked gasp claws it’s way out of Tara and when I follow her line of sight, I freeze for a second.
Laying right there on his back on the ground, with a slit throat and a pool of blood around his head is one of the deputies Sheriff Hicks assigned to Tara’s floor. He’s still alive, even though only barely, and chokes on his own blood, his wide eyes staring unblinkingly at the ceiling.
There’s nothing we can do to help him, he’ll be dead within a minute, but still, the sight of him, so helpless and alone, makes the blood in my veins freeze.
That could be me, or worse, Tara.
Stop! Don’t think about that, Y/N. Focus.
My dad’s voice rings in my head and makes me snap out of it. He’s right, I have to focus.
I’m about to continue pushing Tara towards the elevator, but then a thought strikes me.
I pause and look around again before letting go of the wheelchair and crouching down next to the deputy. I reach for his belt, fumbling around until my hand grazes the holster of his gun.
With a gun, we’d at least stand a change against Ghostface, but as fate would have it, the holster is empty. The gun is gone.
Fuck.
Not only does that mean that we have nothing to defend ourselves with, it also means that Ghostface has the gun.
Tara sobs into her hands and watches me get back up, only to flinch and freeze a second later when we hear a door being opened somewhere down the hall.
There’s no time to ponder over the gun and its whereabouts now. I spin around and take a hold of the wheelchair again.
Getting to the elevator now is too risky. It’s too far away, so I wheel Tara into the room right next to the nurses’ station.
We need help.
Tara whimpers and cries quietly while I close the door behind us. I don’t shut it all the way, just enough to hide us from plain sight while still being able to see what’s going on outside. Then, I fumble around for my phone in my sweatpants.
Just like with the gun though, I come up empty, and the realization that it must have slipped out of my pocket while watching the movie makes my heart drop.
No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.
My hands begin shaking, and it’s getting harder to keep my panic at bay.
We’re alone with a psychopathic killer, we have no way out, no help is coming, and I’m not in any shape to fight properly.
Tears well up in my eyes and I feel my bottom lip quivering. There’s no way out.
My heart starts pounding in my ears and my hands start shaking.
Please, no. Not now.
I’ve had enough panic attacks after my parents death to know what it feels like when one is about to start, and even though it sucks having them at any time, it would be especially inconvenient right now.
I force myself to calm my breaths and blink away the tears, but it doesn’t help much.
We’re trapped.
We’re alone.
I continue to focus on steadying my breathing while also keeping an ear out for any more sounds in the hallway.
That is until Tara nudges me. I clench and unclench my fists, and look at her. She has tears streaming down her face, but she’s urgently gesturing at something she can’t reach.
I follow the length of her arm with my eyes and almost start crying with relief when I spot the phone on the wall right next to the door.
I lunge for it and start dialing 911 with shaking hands only to stop a moment later when another door opens out in the hallway.
Tara clutches the back of my sweater with her uninjured hand and bites her bottom lip to prevent any more sobs from escaping her.
I flinch when another door gets opened, this time closer by, and hold my breath.
This is it. He’s here.
I lower the phone and square my shoulders, ready to fight when the door to our room suddenly swings open.
Tara yelps and I instinctively punch whoever just walked in.
“Ow!” Richie stumbles back against the doorframe and raises a hand to where my fist just connected with his jaw. “Ah, goddamn it!”
“Richie?” Tara’s pulls on the back of my sweater to get me to step out of her line of sight while I simply stare at Richie in disbelief.
I’m honestly relieved it’s just him, and that he’s here because now we’re no longer alone, but I can’t find it in myself to feel sorry for punching him.
“What are you doing here?” Tara asks as Richie continues to recover from the punch.
“Sam called,” he explains and as he continues to talk, I feel some of the tension in my body dissipate. “She said that you were in trouble.”
He doesn’t look at me when he says it, and the revelation that Sam probably only called about Tara is like a blow to the stomach.
I don’t get much time to dwell on it though because a split second later, Ghosface appears behind Richie, ready to strike with a knife in his hand.
“Look out!” I shout, stepping in front of Tara again.
Richie spins just in time to avoid getting stabbed, but the knife manages to cut his forearm. Ghostface goes in for another stab, but Richie manages to catch his wrist before he can bring the knife down on him.
He grunts and they struggle for a moment, but then Ghostface manages to grab the back of Richies head and slam him into the door frame, knocking him out.
“Shit!” I clench my jaw when Ghostface turns his attention to Tara and me, and quickly grab the IV stand next to us, flinging it at him.
Ghostface goes down because the monitor on the IV stand hits him in the head, and I rush to wheel Tara out of the room.
We’re almost back in the hallway, away from Ghostface, when he suddenly lands a punch on the back of my left knee, making my leg buckle. I stumble and manage to regain my footing without going down, but that little trip costs me a lot of precious seconds.
“Y/N!” Tara twists around in the wheelchair with wide eyes and even though I know Ghostface is now back on his feet and right behind me, it still catches me off guard when he wraps his arm around my neck from behind and punches me in the side, right below my ribs.
“Ah, fuck!” I grunt and grab his forearm, trying to pry it away from my neck, but it doesn’t budge. “Go, Tara!”
Another blow, this time to my ribs, takes my breath away, and even though I’m in pain, it fills me with an unexplainable rage.
Instead of trying to get his arm away from my neck again, I dig my heels into the ground and push backward until we hit a wall. Ghostface hisses in pain and I use the momentary distraction to get out of the headlock.
Then, I run to Tara, limping slightly and ignoring the sound of a phone ringing nearby. She’s crying and struggling to move in the wheelchair, and the sight of the blood soaked bandage around her hand makes my stomach clench.
I’m about to reach her, my arms already outstretched to grab onto the wheelchair, but then I’m tackled to the ground from behind.
My head hits the floor, making black dots dance in my vision for a moment and then my head is yanked up by my hair.
“Hold it right there, Tara,” Ghostface says, the voice changer eerily distorting his voice, “or I’ll slit Y/N’s throat.”
Tara freezes and wheels around in time to see Ghostface press the blade of his knife against my neck. He’s kneeling on my back and I know I have no way of escaping without getting my throat slit.
It stings when he pushes the knife down a little too hard, drawing some blood in the process, but I don’t dare to move.
“Y/N!” Tara cries and I try not to cough because of the weight on my back. “No, please don’t.“
“Tara, go!” I rasp, feeling the edge of the knife dig even deeper into the skin of my neck.
Tara shakes he head desperately, tears rolling down her cheeks. “No, Y/N, I—“
“Do you hear that, Sam?” Ghostface says and at the mention of Sam’s name my heart drops. He must be on the phone with her. “Your little sister and Y/N, begging for each other’s lives. Pathetic, don’t you think?”
Tara makes a move to wheel closer, but I pin her down with a stare to stop her. Go, I mouth, but Tara doesn’t move while Ghostface continues talking to Sam.
I can’t hear everything he’s saying because my ears are ringing, but when he suddenly gets off my back and approaches Tara with calculated steps, I hear him say, “So, the choice is up to you. Who is it going to be, Sam? Richie, Y/N, or Tara?”
Tara whimpers as Ghostface gets nearer, but she’s too injured to get away. She manages to turn the wheelchair around, but Ghostface is right there before she can even attempt to get away.
He grabs the handles of the chair and tips it forward forcefully, making Tara fall and land on the ground with a cry of pain.
No, not her. Not Tara. Please, anyone but her. She’s been through enough.
“Stop!” I groan, trying to get up, but slipping on something sticky on the floor. My shoulder stings and the side where Ghostface punched me burns, but I try to get back up again, and this time, I manage. On unsteady feet, I limp toward Ghostface who’s now standing over Tara.
He twirls the knife in his hand and raises his arm, getting ready to strike while Tara sobs.
“No!” I’m not going to make it. “Tara!”
Just then, the elevator dings and the doors open. Ghostface looks up, surprised, and dives out of the way when gunshots ring out.
My eyes widen at the sight of Sam and Dewey?! who dart out of the elevator.
“Tara!” Sam rushes to her sister’s side and drops to her knees, trying to help her to her feet.
“I’ll get Richie,” Dewey says, but then he freezes when his eyes land on me. “Y/N?! What are you doing here? Are you hurt?”
I wave him off and shake my head, looking around to see where Ghostface went. “Not now, I’m fine. Go get Richie, I’ll help Sam with Tara.”
“Okay.” Dewey nods and stares at me a moment longer before dashing past me to help Richie.
The last time we saw each other was at my parents’ funeral. He used to be like an uncle to me because he was friends with my dad, but after the accident, we kind of drifted apart.
Now is no time to dwell on the past though. I push through my dizziness and the pain in my side, shoulder and leg, and limp the rest of the way to Tara and Sam.
Sam’s already managed to get a crying and whimpering Tara to her feet, but Tara can’t walk with her broken leg, so as soon as I’m within reach I tug on Sam’s jacket to get her to stop dragging Tara to the elevator.
“Stop, let me help.”
Sam’s eyes widen. “Y/N, y-you’re here?”
“Of course, I’m here,” I snap, not because I’m mad but because there’s no time to talk. “Now, let’s get a move on!”
Still in disbelief, Sam doesn’t say anything else as I scoop Tara up into my arms.
“Ow,” she whines and I quickly apologize for hurting her.
I limp to the elevator with Sam hot on my heels and lean against the wall as soon as we’re inside. My legs are shaking and my entire body hurts, but I’m not letting go of Tara until we’re safe.
Sam holds the doors open while Richie and Dewey make their way to the elevator.
They’ve almost made it when, out of nowhere, Ghostface comes back, crashing into them from the side. Richie falls to the ground, and Dewey gets pushed against the wall which makes him fire his gun.
A struggle ensues between Dewey and Ghostface while Richie tries to get back up, and for a moment it looks as though Ghostface’s got the upper hand, but then Dewey headbutts him.
Ghostface stumbles back and Dewey grabs his gun off the ground, firing it at Ghostface before he can come at him again.
He stumbles back at the force of the shots hitting him in the chest until he crashes into the glass display cabinet on the opposite wall.
He sinks to the ground and stops moving, and even though I’m not convinced he’s dead, there’s no time to make sure he is. We have to get out of here as fast as possible.
Dewey must think so too because he gets to his feet and immediately pulls Richie up as well.
“Let’s get out of here,” he grunts, dragging Richie toward the elevator. “Come on, hurry up.”
They finally make it, and Richie slumps against the wall next to Sam who runs her hands over him and checks for any not-so obvious injuries.
“You okay?” she asks, her voice laced with worry.
Richie nods and exhales shakily. “Yeah, you?”
Sam nods. “Fine.” Then she turns her attention back to Tara who’s got her arms wrapped around my neck and is crying into my shoulder.
“It hurts, Sam,” she cries, and I press a kiss to her forehead while Sam takes a hold of her hand.
Dewey pushes the elevator button for the first floor, but before the doors can slide shut, he stops them with his hand and says, “The head. . .”
Richie frowns. “What?”
“You have to shoot ‘em in the head or they always come back,” Dewey explains, stepping back out of the elevator.
Sam gapes at him and asks exactly what I’m thinking. “Dewey, who gives a fuck?”
A forlorn look enters his eyes and as the doors slide shut, he says, “I do.”
“No! Dewey!” I try to step forward to stop him, but as soon as I shift my weight off the wall, my legs start trembling, so I slump back and grit my teeth.
It’s too late.
The doors close and the elevator starts descending. A tense silence settles over us for the duration of the ride, but then the doors open and Richie stumbles out first, shouting for help.
Doctors and nurses swarm us almost instantly and within seconds, a gurney is brought over and I place Tara on it.
She’s okay.
Seeing her being taken care of lifts a huge weight off my shoulders and the relief on Sam’s face makes me smile a little.
She’s going to be okay.
The dizziness I felt before suddenly returns full force now that the adrenaline is wearing off, but I can’t sit down and rest until Dewey is safe, too.
He’s up there all alone. Someone has to help him.
I stumble back to the elevator but a hand on my stomach stops me from entering it.
I look down, swaying slightly, before following the arm connect to the hand all the way up with my eyes until they land on Sam’s face.
Wait. . . Sam?
“Where are you going, Y/N?” she asks, frowning.
I blink to get rid of the irritating black dots growing in my vision and try to push past her. “D-Dewey, he needs—he needs help, Sam.”
“I know,” she says, stopping me again by grabbing a fistful of my sweater. “But you can’t go up there. The police are already on their way.”
“But. . . But Dewey,” I slur. I grasp at Sam’s hand to get her to let go of me which, much to my surprise, she actually does.
It doesn’t last long though because not even a second later my knees buckle and I fall forward, right into her arms.
“Y/N? Y/N!” Sam panics and grabs onto anything she can to stop both of us from toppling to the ground. “Oh my God, you’re hurt.”
I awkwardly slide down her body, bringing her down with me until we’re both on the floor and I’m gasping for air.
“Y/N, hey. . . Hey!” Sam grunts and manages to scramble out from underneath me before propping me up against the wall next to us. “Look at me. What’s wrong? What hurts?” she asks, but I can’t answer. My lungs suddenly feel like they’re on fire and every breath I take makes it harder to breathe.
“What happened? Did Ghostface—“ She falls silent when her eyes land on her hands and when I look down, I see why.
They’re covered in blood. My blood. But. . . how?
I think about everything that happened, and then dread settles in the pit of my stomach when the realization hits.
Ghostface wasn’t punching me. When he “hit” me all those times, he wasn’t punching me. He wasn’t punching me at all. He was stabbing me.
Welp, that explains why my side hurts so much. I thought I was going soft.
My eyes flutter shut and I cough, tasting blood in my mouth.
I guess no one noticed I was hurt until now because I didn’t feel anything until the adrenaline wore off and the blood soaking my clothes wasn’t visible because both my sweater and my sweatpants are black.
“Y/N, hey! Don’t you dare close your eyes.” Sam cups my cheeks and shakes my head slightly to get me to open my eyes again. “We need some help over here!” she shouts over her shoulder before looking back at me.
She’s frantic, more frantic than I’ve ever seen her, and her eyes are filling with tears. Her hands drop off my face and she’s quick to push my sweater up to take in the extent of my injuries.
“Oh my God.” Her voice cracks and when she presses her hands against my side to slow the bleeding, I cry out in pain.
I gasp like a fish out of water, still struggling to get enough air into my lungs, and push at her hands.
“No, stop— Stop!” she protests, desperately pressing her hands against my side again.
“Hurts,” I wheeze and Sam nods frantically with tears dripping down her cheeks.
“I know, I know,” she says, “but I’m trying to help.”
I writhe in agony, but don’t try to push her off again. I don’t think I even could if I tried because with every passing moment I feel weaker.
My eyes are also threatening to close again and when Sam notices, she presses down harder on my side and shouts for help again.
This time, a nearby nurse notices and she springs into action. She rushes over, dragging a doctor with her and tells another nurse to bring a gurney.
I don’t focus on her though. No, I keep my attention on Sam and how she’s desperately try to stop my bleeding.
She’s crying, covered in blood, and on the verge of hyperventilating, but she’s still beautiful.
So beautiful. . .
I cough again just as the nurse and doctor drop down next to me, and when Sam takes her hands away so they can examine me, I give into the urge to close my eyes.
_______________________________________________
Whew! I wrote this in one sitting, and only proofread it once, so please excuse any mistakes I may have made/overlooked.
Tag list: @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @bella423
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karaeilishh · 1 day ago
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Hii this is so random but do you think you could write vampire!billie? Any plot is fine!
this gave me goosebumps UGHH, sorry for making you wait so long baby 💞
your blood b. eilish
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warnings: smut, blood. BLOOD, mean!vampire!billie, blood drinkin (kinda a lot), billie has large and sharp fangs, oral, strap, crazy a lil
w/c - 3,4k
you were waiting for her so much. weeks in an empty bed seemed torturous while your girlfriend was on her music tour. and not only that. billie was an adored person all over the world. everyone thought she was so gentle, kind and cloyingly sweet, incapable of doing bad things. they were partly right, but only you knew what she was really capable of. 
you cleaned the whole house before her arrival, cooked dinner, tidied yourself up so that your girlfriend would need nothing. you even put on her favorite underwear under a shirt and home shorts. everything was perfect for her arrival. you were waiting so much. 
she promised to come in the evening, but it was already deep into the night, you couldn’t close your eyes because of the worries when she didn’t answer your calls. the lights in the whole house were on so that you wouldn’t be tempted to close your eyes. you curled up on the couch in the living room, spending there for what seemed like an eternity before the front door opened. you jump off the couch in relief.
“billie…” your expression changes when instead of a gentle smile on her face, you see her tired and desperate look. bags under her eyes, dirty disheveled hair and dirty clothes. her lipstick is slightly smudged, her whole appearance is pure chaos. She places her suitcase next to the door and walks inside, still wearing her sneakers. you watch her every move with concern.
“baby, what’s wrong?” you dare to break the silence when she sits down on the couch, covering her face with her hands. you slowly walk towards her and sit next to her. your hand gently touches her thigh as you look at her. your face is etched with worry. “i screwed up.”
she lets out a ragged breath, yanking her leg away from your touch. she was so nervous and tense that you felt uneasy. her whole body was dripping with discontent and innuendo. “billie, please explain to me. what happened?” your voice takes on a more serious and cold tone, but your eyes are still soft as you try to catch her gaze.
“fucked” she jumps up from the couch, burying her hands in her hair. she paces back and forth across the room, sighing loudly every now and then. you tried to give her time to explain to you what was going on. you lean back on the couch and cross your arms over your chest, seemingly forgetting to breathe.
“h-he ran away. he saw me, i think he saw me.” billie finally stops and looks at you with crystal empty eyes, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. you don’t immediately understand what she’s talking about, tilting your head. “who is ‘he’, baby? please tell me" 
billie exhales heavily, like it's so hard to talk about this, like it's so hard to do anything, her body is breaking. "i'm hungry, i'm so fucking hungry. and i'm weak, and that's why i was so distracted, and he just... he fucking ran away. i couldn't catch him" billie sinks back onto the couch, her face twisted in hunger, revealing her fangs. they seemed to have gotten heavier and bigger, more dangerous, more attractive. 
It all came together in your head as she explained to you what had happened. she was like this because she hadn't fed in a long time. she needed blood, she needed it to survive. literally. her skin was even paler, her veins showing on her tired face. how had you not noticed it before? "how long have you not fed?" 
question hangs in the air for a few seconds before billie finds the strength to answer. "i don't know. a long time. a long time ago"
you bite your bottom lip, thinking about what to do next. idea in your head was just crazy and unrealistic, and you knew that billie would never agree to this. but you had to try. "baby..."
you slowly move towards her and straddle her hips. billie instinctively wants to put her hands on your hips, but you take her hands and intertwine your fingers. she gives you an ambiguous look, but remains silent, waiting for you to say something. "i know this might be dangerous for me, but maybe..."
"do you hear yourself?!" billie abruptly pulls her hands away, almost pushing you off her lap. Her face distorts with anger instantly, fire burning in her eyes. anyone would say that she is mad as hell, but you see something else behind this mask. fear, desire, hunger. "oh god, don't even dare say that out loud!"
her tone leaves no room for argument, but you know how much she needs it. to drink blood. your blood. you're a little afraid, but you touch her again. your fingertips graze over her shoulders. you tug at the fabric of her shirt, revealing her muscular arms. "but why? you need this, billie! i don't think you get offered-"
she interrupts with a nervous grin, this time allowing you to touch her, but her eyes and voice are still as cold. "listen to me carefully. i will never allow myself to drink a drop of your blood, never."
her gaze grows more furious as she looks at your neck, your pale skin practically begging her to leave the bite, but she continues. "if i taste you i don't know if i'll be able to stop. i can't put you at risk like that"
she carefully lifts you off her lap and heads towards the kitchen. you silently follow her. billie tries to convince herself that she can at least somehow cope with her hunger if she eats proper food. the homemade pasta you made. she brings the fork to her mouth, but hesitates as soon as she smells the food. "bilie... don't"
"i'm fine!" she cuts you and puts the fork in her mouth, chewing on the pasta for a few seconds before the urge to vomit attacks her throat. she runs to the trash can, and spits out everything she tried so desperately to swallow. the problem wasn't that you made her a bad dinner. she needed blood, lots of fresh blood. her body couldn't function properly without it. there was desperation in her eyes
"please, bils. just do it." you walked up to your girlfriend and gently placed your hands on her cheeks. she couldn't keep eye contact with you because she knew she would give in if she looked into your loving eyes. you wanted the best for her. always. so much so that you offered her to drink your own blood, putting yourself in danger. "i can't, baby. i just can't do this to you..."
she gave in and looked into your eyes. almost crying. from hunger, from desire, from fear. it was all affecting her so much that she thought she would fall apart under the pressure. "ill never forgive myself if i can't stop."
you left a soft kiss on her lips, urging her to be quiet. you wanted so much to help her in any way possible. you caress her face for a few more seconds before slowly moving her head to the side of your neck. the enticing warmth radiating from your skin made billie whine. “please, don’t do this…”
she licks her lips. her nose grazes over your soft skin, her arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to her. she looks at the pulsing vein in your neck as you tilt your head, giving her more access. her hot breath hits you as you both realize there’s no turning back. she won’t stop. your body temperature drops a few degrees, your fingertips shaking as you close your eyes. you were scared, but also so excited at that moment that it was driving you crazy
“i’m sorry,” she whispers before abruptly sinking her fangs into your pulsating flesh. A sharp pain shoots through your body like an electric shock, your eyes wide open as is your mouth. a few strangled moans choke in your throat. you're afraid to make the slightest sound or move your body even a millimeter. after a few seconds you feel your warm sticky blood running down your skin, staining your light shirt. it runs down your collarbones, your chest, your stomach. billie drank it so greedily and sloppily, not caring at all how much blood flows out. she'll wring out every drop. with each sip she became more and more uncontrollable.
adrenaline speeds up the circulation of your blood, only increasing the pleasure of billie as she continues to scratch your neck with her fangs. your soft skin ached from the pain. there were stars in your eyes, your body temperature changing seemingly every few seconds, while you heard your girlfriend swallow your blood. she jerks away from you, breathing heavily. you whine from another sharp prick of pain. 
"god, i’m sorry... i got carried away, i shouldn't..." her eyes run over your face, she mumbles while you just stand there and silently stare at her. her lips, chin, nose are all covered in your scarlet blood. her fangs sparkle in the moonlight. it was so strange, but she looked so damn sexy. she was confused, but her gaze was so wild from how she instantly became addicted to your taste. 
"you feeling better?" when you come to, you press your hand to your neck, feeling the warm blood beneath your fingertips. billie relaxes a little when she sees your reassuring gaze. you let her know youre okay. “yeah, yeah, i’m better. so much better. im sorry you had to go through that…” she drops her hands to your waist, pressing her forehead to yours.
“actually… i liked it” the tone of your voice makes billie smile and look you in the eyes. she was surprised. her eyebrows raised slightly as she studied your face. “what did you say?” she heard you perfectly well, but it was like she needed confirmation that she wasn’t delirious and that you actually liked it. she needed to know that she didn’t hurt you.
“i said i liked the feeling” you whisper, standing on your toes to whisper in her ear. you knew she was about to lose control. "your teeth in my flesh, my warm blood running down my skin. it's so strange, but so exciting..."
billie's mouth dropped open, breathing raggedly. her earlier worry disappeared when she saw you were okay. maybe too much. "i can't believe it. i just drank your blood and you like it?"
she pulls back and looks you in the eyes. she only needed one word to break completely. you could feel her desire in the warming air. or is it that you're still so agitated after she drank about half a liter of your blood in one go. "yes..."
your whisper turns billie on with a snap of her finger. she lights up. the hunger in her eyes is still there, only now she's not hungry for blood, she's hungry for you. for your body, soft as play dough in her hands. "you're such a slut if you really liked it"
the next moment she's dragging you to the bedroom on the second floor. her teeth are grinding as she throws you on the bed. now some of her life force has returned and she remembered how much she missed you. her head could finally work properly to realize how long it's been since you felt each other's warmth. fucking weeks spent hundreds of miles apart.
"god, i missed you so much" her body is hovering over yours. the tips of her long hair tickle your skin as she takes off your bloody shirt, revealing your lacy bra. your upper body is covered in your blood. a smile spreads across her face as she looks up at your face. "you were waiting for me"
"of course i was. you have no idea how" you giggle. she looked so sexy with that look and your frozen blood on her face. billie leaves a kiss on your lips, letting you taste the salty taste of your blood on your lips. crazy feeling. you squirm slightly under her. "please, bills…"
"please, what?" she is amused by your whining. it's amazing how much her mood has improved after she drank your blood. maybe there was something special about it. you whisper softly about how much you need her, and it clearly affects her. billie leaves kisses on your body, caressing your collarbone with her tongue. "i wasn't kidding when i said i couldn't stop"
you don't have time to ask her, as you feel another painful bite on your body. her teeth are clamped around your collarbone, making you feel the pressure on your bone. she didn't even sink her teeth all the way in, but a pool of blood still formed on your body, which billie drank up, greedily swallowing every drop. the pain wasn't as noticeable now, causing your brain to continue to drift to the warmth between your legs. the contrast of pain and desire was driving you crazy.
bilie waits until a pool of blood forms above your collarbone again, before dipping her fingertips into it. you look at her questioningly, but remain silent, waiting for what she will do. billie runs her fingers over your stomach, drawing something on your skin. the dark, thick blood contrasted with your milky skin, as billie mindlessly smeared your blood over your body.
"baby, please..." you remind her not to get too carried away. she giggles in response and licks the last of your blood off her fingers. she found it funny. “sorry, princess.”
billie peels off your shorts, throwing them to the other corner of the bedroom. she greedily examines every inch of your exposed skin, like she’s seeing it for the first time. “god, you’re gorgeous.” she can’t help but comment when such a beautiful, obedient girl lies beneath her, letting her do whatever she wants to her.
she pulls you to the edge of the bed, kneeling between your legs. you prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better view of her face. god, you wanna take a picture. you thought you were dreaming right now, that this wasn’t real.
ripping the thin piece of fabric off your body, billie swallows hard. you hear it. something new flashes in her eyes as she practically growls. She places your legs on her shoulders, her hands squeezing your hips painfully. She leaves wet kisses on the inside of your thighs, looking into your eyes. "billie…"
you’re literally dripping. you wanted her so badly, inside you. you needed her to fuck you so badly, but billie had something else in mind. She lowers your legs, wrapping both hands around your left thigh. She massages it for a few seconds before running her tongue over your warm skin. "what are you-"
she doesn't let you finish. her fangs sink into your flesh again. all the way. she clenches her jaws so hard you want to scream. She moans loudly and obscenely as the taste of your blood imprints on her tongue. She takes big greedy gulps, but you still feel your blood dripping down your leg. right onto the white carpet. “billie…”
you throw your head back against the sheets, trying to get used to the feeling. after a few seconds, the pain faded, leaving only a slight discomfort. but that seemed to go away too when she looked at you. Her eyes were wild, animalistic, sending shivers down your spine. her dark eyeliner highlighted her light eyes, and oh god, you were just aching. you needed her.
as soon as her fangs emerge from your skin, you feel a strange emptiness inside. it was mutual dependence. aching, but so strong. you just need to feel her mouth on you. it doesn’t matter how. billie licks a trickle of blood from your skin before finally placing her tongue where you need her most. “fuck, yes…”
your hand immediately flies to her hair, pulling her head down to your needy pussy. she literally growls into your flesh, telling you what a dirty slut you are. all the events of the night were forgotten as soon as her tongue wrapped around your clit, making you moan in pleasure. electric.
the dirtiest sounds came out of her mouth as she devoured you. the taste of your blood still clinging to her tongue, mixing with your juices. it was driving her crazy. her hands traced their way to your  breasts, squeezing hard. she lightly scratched your skin, making you arch your back. every atom of your body wanted to feel her.
"i'm close...i’m..." you whine, thinking that billie will make you wait, but she just buries her face deeper into your pussy. she wanted to reward you, to worship you, because you literally brought her back to life. once she tasted you, she would never want anyone else's blood again. only you. 
your body disintegrates into a million pieces as an electric orgasm shoots through your body, leaving you shaking for a while. you breathe heavily, looking up at the ceiling. billie crawls towards you, looking into your eyes with a playful glint in hers. you reach your hand up to her face, trying to wipe away at least a few drops of your blood, but she doesn't let you. "i like the feeling of your blood" 
"but you have it all over your face!" you giggle and intertwine your fingers. your body calmed down a bit, but billie still wanted to do one thing. you see the glint of something unsaid in her eyes and you whisper softly, "what do you want?"
there’s a look of relief on her face, like she's been waiting for you to ask. "i want you to ride me. my cock." Your heart skips a beat when she mentions her strap. you’ve been hungry for that. you nod softly and she pulls away from you, taking off her jeans as she does so. "sit on the edge."
she instructs you as she quickly fastens the strap to her thighs. She does it so casually, like if she doesn't have you on her body for another minute she'll die. billie sits down on the bed and roughly pulls you onto her lap.
"lower yourself." Her voice drips with dominance, making you weak in the knees. you slowly lower yourself onto her strap, holding onto her shoulders. you’ve missed this feeling so much. you moan, lowering your body completely onto hers. you give yourself a few seconds to adjust, but billie squeezes your hips tightly. “come on, bunny, bounce on me.”
her words leave your brain in a mess as you start bouncing on her cock like a fucking bunny. billie’s hands wander over your body as she finally finds her way to the clasps of your bra to push it off your body. your breasts bounce with every movement you make. her cock is buried deep inside your pussy, hitting all the right spots.
“go faster.” billie grabs your breasts with both hands, making your pace only sloppier. you couldn’t go on your own anymore with her teasing you like that. your whole body was a bloody dull mess underneath her. your legs were weak as you fell against her. "i...i can't..."
"that's pathetic, baby," she chuckles, running her tongue over your tits before biting you again. your hands tighten on her shoulders as she only sinks her teeth halfway in, but it's enough to draw blood again. it runs down your nipple and billie swirls it around with her tongue with a satisfied groan, letting go with pop-sound.
finished torturing your breasts, she finally changes your position, pressing your face into the mattress. your ass is hanging in the air as she finally thrusts into you. her nails scratching your back, her cock is buried in your pussy, all the sheets are crumpled from your grip and stained with your blood. "harder, billie, right there..."
this was probably the craziest night of your life, because your head was no longer working. her cock was fucking you so stupidly, a liter of your blood was pumped out of your body. perfect conditions so the only thing on your mind is billie. the angle she fucks you at, making your pussy clench around her cock as she makes you cum over and over.
your blood pushed her into it.
tags: @dandelions4us
requests open !!
a/n - UGH i love it
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finelinevogue · 2 days ago
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For prompt list, number 39 Harry Styles friends to lovers? Love your writing 🩷
thank you my lovely!!! you’re so kind💖💖
>500 words
“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”
You stood and watched Harry as he scoffed at your question.
His bedroom in his university flat didn’t seem so big anymore with the two of you raging at each other.
You had come to visit Harry, your best friend, for the weekend, as you hadn’t seem him since you’d both moved away from home and off to university. It just so happened that Harry’s flat was hosting a flat party - so subsequently you’d been invited.
It had been going well.
You’d met Harry’s flatmates and they were lovely. You’d gotten ready with the girls in his flat whilst the boys went to the off-licence for drinks. The party had lots of people and it was fun. Perhaps a little too fun, or at least it had been when Harry had caught you.
“You were talking to Oliver.” Harry stressed, running a hand through his soft hair.
“And?” You exclaimed.
“He’s my fucking roommate.”
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that.” You glared at him, chest heaving as you pointed at him.
Harry’s tense brows dropped then, finally allowing himself a moment of calm. It was just you two in his bedroom - no one else. More importantly, no Oliver.
“I’m sorry.”
Harry huffed before slumping down on his tidy bed. Harry had always been very neat and orderly. It was one of the things you loved about him. Well, that and a list of another hundred things or so.
It was getting more and more difficult to keep that love a secret though.
It was clear that you both had feelings for one another. It was evident in the way that Harry didn’t exactly like you and Oliver cosying up to one another. It was evident in the way you’d decided to come down this weekend because you missed him so much and were scared he might’ve moved on.
Perhaps you were both idiots.
You slumped down next to Harry, forcefully taking one of his hands in yours and holding it tight before resting your head on his shoulder.
“I don’t like Oliver like that, just for reference.” You said quietly.
“I know. I could tell by the way you kept drinking rather than talking. Normally I can’t get you to shut up and yet with Oliver there was more silence than anything.” Harry chuckled beside you, making your head wobble against his shoulder.
You couldn’t help but smile at how well Harry knew you and all your tells.
“He was talking about his grandmothers Christmas bauble collection. It wasn’t exactly a riveting conversation.” You laughed. “He does seem like a good friend though.”
“He is.”
“So why’d you pull me away from him?” You took your head off his shoulder to look at him properly.
He nervously looked down before looking back at you, needing to keep ahold of your hand for support.
“I think you know.”
You gave him a small smile, accompanied by a minor blush. You nodded and watched his smile become bashful at your agreement.
Harry chuckled to himself as he looked away from you, trying to focus on something that would stop him grinning from ear to ear but it was proving quite difficult - especially when you’d both admitted to something as big as feelings.
“So what now?” He asked you.
“Well… You could ask me out? I might say yes.”
He turned to look at you with a cheeky smirk, “Or we could skip all that and you just let me kiss you?”
You stood up then - moving away from temptation.
“No. I don’t kiss on the first date and I definitely don’t make exceptions for my best friend.”
“Still your best friend, hmm?” Harry leaned back on his arms, stretched behind him on his bed as we watched you.
“You’ll always be my best friend, H. This time, though, I’ll just get to kiss my best friend too.”
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hitomisuzuya · 11 hours ago
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hi again suzu !!! could you do like really mean and harsh smut with obsessed scaramouche who kidnaps reader; and reader is actually obsessed with him aswell; if that makes sense 😞
you can make it kinky too; but that’s completely your choice!
- 🎧
yandere!scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. obsessive/possessive behavior. kidnap. drugging. blowjob. harsh degradation. degrading praise. creampie. mean!scara. if any of these themes make you uncomfortable, DNI.
scara really enjoys himself in this 😳
today was the day. scaramouche knew today was the day. the world was encroaching too much, too fast around you. because you are so strong, it would be too much for you. that's exactly why you need him to protect you.
life wasn't going to dig it's hideous claws into you like it had done to him. he absolutely wasn't going to let that happen.
he has everything all prepared, even a new bed with a soft mattress and softer pillows. various things that would make you happy and comfortable. it was easy for him to acquire the sedative he would use, which is also something he considered carefully. something mellow and soft that would make you instantly drowsy and fall right to sleep. you wouldn't feel a thing.
scaramouche knew your schedule inside and out. you didn't have any idea he was following right behind you the entire time, having made promises to meet up for a date later. you, being so easily trusting of him, would walk right into his plans.
you are just way too kind. way too naive. far too sweet. all too much for your own good. but that is okay. he is here now.
absolutely nothing would go wrong. he would successfully retrieve you, and snatch you up away from the world. keep you hidden and at his side. where you belong. after all, you already look at him with such devotion, love and adoration.
he swooped in the moment you inevitably stopped walking to check your phone. you'd been keeping such an eye on the weather all day.
your breath hitched in your throat, startled as scaramouche came up behind you. "ssh, it's okay," he cooed, gently cupping a hand over your mouth, "you won't feel a thing, i promise. this is for your own good," your eyes widened a little feeling the pin prick on your neck, but you didn't panic. you'd heard the sound of scaramouche's voice, that let you know not to be scared.
he shivered seeing your body relax even before he sedated you. you trusted him that much that he didn't scare you. you really are amazing. he picked up as you slumped against him.
that was how you ended up on your knees, naked in front him, his hand stroking your hair lovingly before grasping it firmly. "go on, slut. use that pretty mouth of yours to tell me what you told me shortly after you woke up," he narrowed his eyes in a glare down at you, sending a shiver straight to your throbbing clit.
he brought your mouth close to his cock. you look up at him so sweetly, your soft little tongue darting out to kitten lick the head of his leaking cock. "you are all i ever think about, scara," he groaned softly as your tongue danced on the precum gathering in his slit.
incidentally, scaramouche only asked you to repeat yourself. it was you who insisted on sucking and licking his cock while you elaborated. it made his ego stretch as much as his cock aches. "i love you. my heart only ever belonged to you. i didn't want to give it to anyone else but you," you continued, wrapping your hand around his cock, pumping your hand as you scooped his cock head into your mouth to suck on.
scaramouche moaned, his cock pulsing on your velvety warm tongue. he pushed your mouth down onto his cock. "good girl, you know your place. on your knees. sucking my cock like a fucking slut," you muffled a moan on his cock, sucking obediently as pumped his thick length in and out of your mouth.
fuck you look so breathtaking, drool pooling from the corners of your mouth while he ruined your throat. "you look adorable with my cock stuffed in your mouth. i can fucking feel your throat enjoying me," his hand tightened on your hair, holding your head in place.
he let out a loud, husky moan as he pushed his cock into your throat. you coughed, your throat convulsing and spasming in a heavenly way on his cock. "as good as using your throat feels, it would be such a shame to not cum inside you first," he took your mouth off his cock, enjoying the way you were submitting and letting him essentially manhandle you.
the look in your eyes only deepened with further adoration for him.
"on the bed, and spread your legs," he commanded, his cock straining harder watching you spread your legs, your little fingers parting your folds for him. he feasted his eyes on your creamy cunt, all his for the taking.
crawling on top of you, scaramouche wasted no time putting his cock between your drooling folds. he slowly grinded his cock over your clit, hissing in pleasure feeling your juices soak his length.
you mewled, your legs shaking and your hips rocking up to grind back against him. "please, i am begging you to stretch me apart," you pleaded, spreading your legs more.
"needy, pathetic whore," he hissed, adruptly bullying his cock inside of you. "you are all mine," he bottomed out all at once, tearing the sweetest cry of pleasure from you. "do you understand?" his cock was shiny with your slick as he pulled halfway out of you.
he wanted to fuck his cock back inside of you at the exact moment you said you understood.
"i'm all yours, scara!" you cried out, your hips jerking up to help him fuck his cock deep back inside of you. your walls clenched tight from his harsh degradation, your cheeks flushed as you squirmed with need.
need that was all for him.
scaramouche lost control then.
he possessively held you down, his hips smacking into yours. his grip was bruising on your thighs as he held them apart. you could barely keep up with the intense pleasure of his cock driving into your sweet spot. your fingers shook as you reached down to rub your throbbing clit, your ministrations tinging your shameless moans with whimpers.
"what a whore. what a good girl," he groaned, his cock on the cusps of emptying inside of you. the wet warmth of your pussy sucking him in was almost too much for him. "fall apart faster for me," his eyes followed the motion of your hand on your clit.
you shook underneath him, your orgasm washing over you in dizzying proportions. scaramouche couldn't get enough of your cries of pleasure while you creamed on his cock.
"keep crying just like that for me," his cock squelched wetter in and out of your pussy, ribboning ropes of cum inside of you. you wrapped a leg around him, happy to let him fuck his cock deeper into you as he chased his high.
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dadvans · 8 hours ago
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wip wednesday
bucktommy mpreg :: buck finds out he's pregnant after tommy breaks up with him and they make a mess of the boundaries
Tommy comes up the stairs two at a time when he doesn’t find Buck downstairs.
Think of it, Buck tells himself: Tommy bringing over another guy he knows who can fuck his mouth as good as Tommy can fuck his ass. It drives him right to the brink, and Buck promises himself, he can make it through the finish line and fake a sweaty, heaving nightmare by the time Tommy finds him.
He doesn’t.
“Buck?” Tommy says again, and then he sees Buck like a slug furled out in his sheets writhing and chasing the orgasm that just won’t come, so then he takes that awful one step back down, and says, “Oh, I’m sorry. Oh.”
Buck finally stops fucking his fist and slams his good hand palm flat into the mattress beside him. “Shit! No, I am. I am. Please don’t go. Give me a second. Fuck.”
“Buck,” Tommy says from the stairwell, deeper now, like he’s been weighted down by despair. Buck twists to look at him, but he can’t even see Tommy’s face.
“Sorry, I thought I could,” Buck continues unthinkingly, “I thought I could finish before you came up here. I’ve just been— the hormones are making me crazy. I wasn’t trying to—“
“You told me to come over when our calendars synced up to discuss a birth plan, and—“
“—Yeah, yeah, I absolutely said that and I meant it, and maybe I hoped you would have called or texted first—“
“—I called—“
“—Shit! Sorry, fuck. Have you ever heard of pregnancy brain?” He feels delirious. Too horny and trying to find the one branch on his way down that will bear his weight. His dick is throbbing, even when its only half-hard now. There’s this ugly need to get off roiling through him like a hot pot of water left on a stove too long, ready to boil into nothing at all if left alone. “It’s that, I swear. I’m so fucking horny right now I wish I knew what’s right and what’s wrong. I thought I could fake it, get off and whoever came in, no one would know, but I heard your voice, and, fuck, Tommy, please.”
“Buck.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t see your call.” He looks away, chin tilting back up to the ceiling as he slides his flat palm down the underside of his hard dick and thrusts against it, dry grooves and all. “It could’ve been my fucking mom, I wouldn’t have known.”
Buck hears Tommy breathe in and out from so far away, the same measured, shaky rhythm as his hand, slow and cruel, keeping every last ugly feeling alive.
“Want me to meet you outside, what, ten minutes?” Tommy asks. “Twenty?”
He should say yes, sorry, yes, please, he’s so fucking sorry. It’s these goddamn hormones, it’s this goddamn oops baby, he’ll get his shit together, buttoned up and on schedule, regular, as soon as he can.
But then there’s the thought of Tommy, two fingers in his ass, gritty with lube and slow as anything, them rocking together in the same spot he’s in now. There’s Tommy picking him up behind the thighs to get the back of Buck’s knees cradling his shoulders, driving into him so deep that Buck could taste him, right in this bed, moaning shaky into the same pillow he’s already sweating into like the walls would’ve fallen down around them. There’s Tommy, voice honey warm, saying, “There you go, baby, take it, take it all.” A ledger of things that would make his breaker box burst if he were an old home.
He closes his eyes, grinds his teeth together. “These hormones are just over-riding everything else in my brain, okay. And it doesn’t have to mean anything, but it would be a lot quicker if you came up here instead and helped.”
He expects Tommy to say no. He expects Tommy to say, in the best case scenario, “You know I can’t do that, I’m sorry.” He expects Tommy to say, in the worst case scenario, “Go fuck yourself.”
The tiniest hope, the ugliest hope that lives too deep down for Buck to think about, bursts hot and heavy when Tommy sighs and takes the few steps back upstairs.
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