#NO ONE WANTS ME rips shirt off and sobs

[aleixis]

was it casual when u let me sleep in ur bed

[gutghost]

Imagine you get cheated on...BUT- the cheater turns kinda...yandere?

It felt like an awful nightmare. Bile rising in your throat as you looked at your lover - the person who you loved through their highest and their lowest, the person who you invested blood sweat and tears into, the person you promised yourself to - undoubtedly pressing their lips to another person's. It took a hot minute before you tried to step back, only for you to bump into the doorway, causing a loud thump. The two looked at you, one with horror, the other with confusion. It took you no time to turn around and make a run for it. A hiccup making its way out of your throat as you felt a sob start to shake through your body.

It's been afew months, well. More then few months since that incident, and safe to say you have been doing...fine. not great, but fine. You've decided to collect your things while your lover was away from the house, your friends and family helping you out as you found a new place to live. It was bare bones, considering you didn't take the shared couch, or tv, dressers, not even bed. But it was yours, and you've been getting by. You'd like to think you've gotten stronger.

That was until odd things started happening around your apartment. Things were being moved, shit you know you wouldn't misplace. Your clothes were going missing, much to your dismay. You barely had any, so to lose even one shirt was frustrating. Then roses started appearing in vases in your home. Seeing as actual items were showing up you decided to call the police, and when it seemed that the window to your bedroom was broken, seemingly from an outside force, they told you to invest in better security as they kept a look out.

Which is why you were going to the store so late at night, I mean, what could go wrong?

bad decision, you later decided as you looked at the scene infront of you. Your throat tight, bile rising, just like that night, the night you lost your true love. In front of you was your lover - now ex - looming disheveled, gasping for air as their voice broke, a small, unnerving, almost crazed look, crossing their features.

"My love, my everything, oh please-"

"Dont."

Your lip trembles as you step back, your look of surprise quickly turning into that of anger. They had no right to call out to you with such fondness, not after what they put you through. The pain and suffering, all due to the person who swore to love you.

A look of hurt crossed their face at the sight of you backing away from them, as if you kicked a puppy. The idea sickened you. Quick to try and close the space once more as they struggled to walk straight they would stumble forward. Their voice trembling as they fell to their knees, a whimper coming from them as they scrambled to grab at your sweatpants.

"Please - my love I beg of you, I know what i did was sin, I know - I've never been more sick in the mind then i was that night, oh I was so stupid, thinking I could ever so much as THINK of another woman! Even more so after wards, how could I think I could ever live without you??? You! Oh precious you, the sun only shines when you are near. Those next few weeks were torture my dear, I've never wanted anything more then to RIP MY SKIN OFF WHEN I REALIZED MY MISDEEDS."

Their insane rambling continued as you tried to shove them off, tears starting to stream down their gaunt cheeks. Had they been eating? You wondered as you tried to get them off you.

"I'm...i'm better now though! I've never been thinking clearer, I came to a realization life isn't worth living without you! But by then- you...- you had already left, I tore through that house to try and find you but you had already been far gone. I asked your family, your friends - but all of them simply turned me away, your LOVER - isn't that what I am? I am, aren't i?? They should've...they-"

You couldn't listen to this anymore. A disgusted feeling filling your gut. What did you ever see in them?? You quickly shoved them away, a small gasp coming from them as you stepped away, your ex lover falling backwards onto the sidewalk. A look so firey resting on your face it could rival the heat from the depths of hell.

"You lost that right. You lost it the moment you took that person into your arms, the moment you brought them into our home, the moment you pressed your lips against theirs."

They seemed dumbfounded, sobs starting to wash over their body as they tried to sputter out apologies. But you had none of it.

"Did you get a kick out of it? Seeing me suffer? Seeing me jealous as you placed your hands on that person's? Your lips on them? When i left did you just go right back to kissing on them? Fucking them??"

You spat at them, your ex lover crying their heart out as they struggle to breathe. Whether it be from guilt or heartbreak, you weren't sure. They shook their head as they continued to cry, trying once again to reach out to you, to hold onto you for that comfort you once so readily gave them. But you stepped back, putting space between you once more. A scoff coming from you as you did so

"Baby please don't do this to me, please please please-"

Their voice wavered heavily. Some part of you, the part buried deep down in your heart, ached at the sight of them so broken down. They looked ill, both mentally and physically. But what done was done. You quickly turned on your heels as you made your way home. Your ex lovers cries filling the street as he urged you to come back, to not leave him. To not abandon him.

Maybe some sick part of you felt good that you left them a blubbering mess, after all. They rept what they sown, did they not?

Little did you know, oh how blissfully unaware you were. They were gonna get you back, one way or another. They will have you back in their arms, with all those roses they left in your apartment in pretty vases all over your newly bought home in the woods, far from everyone.

They will have you be their's again.

that corpse that once used to be their side piece left rotting under the concrete of their basement proves it.

[thewriterg]

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰

pairing(s); simon riley x fem!reader, reader x toxic family

summary; You tried to keep it together to keep him away from it to not get attached but it only take one situation for you to come crumbling down reaching out to simon for comfort —angstober day;14—

word count; 900+

warning(s); age gap, sweetheart is her/your own warning, thinking college student reader so like early twenties and simon is about mid to late forties, arguments, crying, angst, kisses, pet names, mention of violence, simon abt to risk it all, and language

playlist; nothings new by rio romeo

A/n:—GIFs; @astrolux111 & @silenthqll— GIF does not determine race

Simon was up it didn’t take much to wake him and when he heard the footsteps approaching his flat front door he was up the handgun from his scratched wooden nightstand that he’d bought off some older man who he was sure had passed to the unknown by now

The rough knocks on his door frame were demanding and rushed as if the person behind the wood was on time crunch he approached the door the firearm clutched in his hand his finger taking no time to rest on the trigger his hand was on the nob before he swung the door open his eyebrows furrowing not expecting to see what was in his line of sight

Your eyes were red and puffy tear streaks stringing your face your hair out of place as well as your shifted clothes Simon swiftly setting down his defense on standing table next to his door grabbing your arm to bring you into the shelter of his home he checks over your body to find nothing alarming but the soaking wet clothes clinging to your body

“S-simon” Is all you can get out as your body racked with sobs you shoulders hunched and he wraps an arm around you littered with tattoos your face hidden in his chest covered by the cotton tshirt that was a little small on him your cold wet clothes transferring onto his as shushes you slowly moving you into his bedroom sitting you on his mattress slipping your drenched shirt over your head as you sniffle your head throbbing from the continuous tears and energy spent you didn’t realize you were dressed in dry attire until you were getting picked up and suddenly the weighed down fabric wasn’t overwhelming you anymore your legs wraps around the blondes torso lying your head on his shoulder you body still shivering as you felt yourself dip onto his worn mattress rubbing his hands down your goosebump covered arms

“Come on love what’s the matter with my sweet girl, hmm? Tell Si what’s the matter” Something triggers in you causing more streams of tears to fall down your face and you try to speak choking out incoherent words and sniffles simon rubs a hand over your hair pressing a kiss your forehead his brain screaming at him to to go punch the nearest punk out on the street because there has to be something, something major to keep you acting this way

“I don’t want you to leave me” You body wracks you chest feels like it’s gonna cave any minute you feel like your airway you’ll be cut off and your sound will be free from your body

“Sweetheart it’s gonna take more than a few tears to get rid of me, matter of fact you won’t be able to you understand?” You nod your head before your spewing everything weighing your chest down to the floor about you family and how they make you feel more down then you’d ever been without meaning to the situation I particular causing your weaker construction to tip over and collapse your siblings couldn’t keep their hands out of your things and this time it had did it you’d been saving for a new laptop for class it cost more than you liked to admit and your sister god you loved her but she was at the age where she couldn’t keep her hands off of thing your things to be exact and long story short your laptop was broken in your sisters hands you berated her scolded her it was the least you could do for the trouble she caused you

When your parents arrived home you expected them to finish the job rip your sister a new one she ran into your father arms rambling of how mean and what a monster you are and even after you told your parents about what she had done she’s barely get a slap on the wrist you were older you shouldn’t yell at the younger ones defending your honor and standing your ground got you yelled at a stinging mark on your cheek

“My h-head hurts” You whimpered after a moment of silence and it was true you didn’t know how long you’ve been crying for and your head felt like it was going to explode Simon sets you down on the mattress briefly your head still spinning and pounding in your ears he leaves and returns again two pain killers that look like a spec of nothing in his palm he sets and on your cheek gently prying your jaw open setting the drugs on your tongue before you swallow the he praises you for it and your realize how much of a all time low you are

“Come on sweetheart no more tears you know it’ll make it worse” This time you’re not sobbing from the pain your chest but rather the pain your head hiccups slipping from your lips falling apart in his grasp and he held you like he always will and as he always had

He’d glue all your broke pieces back together

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

NEW; sweetheart and simon headcanons

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 4: Midnight Snack

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

3.5K words

Warning/Notes: Soap x Reader, oral sex (m receiving), hair pulling, messy make out

This is the video from where the photo is, if you haven't seen it, You have to and if you have already, you are welcome.

The drive back to base seems neverending. 

Once Price and Ghost managed to get you to stop crying and to breathe normally. The three of you pack the essentials, and by that, I mean you were hugged to Ghost like a koala while Price got what he could save from your house into a bag pack. 

Most of your clothes were ripped or cut, so in the end, only some pieces of underwear, a couple of shirts, some pants and the pyjamas you were wearing were safe. Plus your jacket and shoes that were behind the door. 

And that is how you found yourself now. Sobbing, sitting in the middle of the back seat, bag pack on your lap, Simon’s hand on your knee from the passenger seat as Price drives.

“Tomorrow morning, you are going to call your job, and tell them that you are going to take a couple of days off, okay?” Price asks looking at you through the rearview mirror. “And we will take everything you need, we will buy clothes, find you a better place to stay, anything you need.”

You shake your head feeling the tears come back and you hide your face behind your hands as you start to cry again. “I can't.” You cry. “What can't you do?” Simon asks turning his head to look at you.

“Miss more work days, I have already taken too many. I can't afford to lose more.” You mumble whining out of mental exhaustion.

“Hey, stop. Don't get carried away, alright?” Simon says rubbing your thigh. “Let's not think about that right now, tomorrow tell your boss the situation. Tell them that your house was broken into, that you need a couple of days to get everything in order. Depending on what your boss says, we'll work from there. Alright, birdie?”

You nod weakly as you focus on taking deep breaths. When you finally arrive, both men get out of the car and Price opens the door for you. You step out still holding your bag tight, either men try to take it from your hands and walk along between both men. 

Their hands find their way to your back, Price to the bottom and Simon to the top, reassuring shielding you from the chilly breeze of the night. 

“How about a cuppa?” Simon asks looking at you, a smile visible in his eyes, and you can't help it but to give him a weak smile back nodding. “Then, we will find you a room so you can sleep as much as you want.” 

Sleep does sound amazing, taking into consideration that last night you had little sleep and you have been on the move ever since. 

Price and Simon walk you to a lousy room, many recruits sitting together. The mess hall, you figure. In the middle of the room, there are a couple of sofas, and you quickly recognise Soap and Gaz, sprawled together in one of them looking at Gaz's phone. 

Most of the soldiers that are finishing their dinner, or just enjoying each other company before going to bed look up when they hear the door opening. Their gazes linger for a second too long on you until you can feel Ghost throwing them a warning sign in the form of a look and they peel their eyes away.

Gaz and Soap look up when they hear the door open, and just for a second, they smile at you before they furrow their browns when they see everyone's expression. 

“What happened? How come the wee lass so spooked?” Soap asks sitting straight and patting the seat between him and Kyle.

Price’s hand on your lower back softly pushes you forward to sit down before he answers: “She’s still a bit in shock, Soap. We’ll talk about it later.”

You sit down between Soap and Gaz, backpack still in your hands, and pull your knees up hugging your legs. Gaz points to your backpack and asks: “You sleeping over tonight? You should definitely sleep in Soap’s and my room. Ghost and Price have their own individual ones, but they snore.” He whispers the last part pulling a little smile from you.

You lean your head on Soap's shoulder when he lays his arm on the couch behind your back. The man is a living furnace and shortly after you find yourself seeking more contact.

Price sits on the second sofa in front of you and just a second later Ghost appears back, cup of tea on hand, as he gives it to you. You take it from his hands, yours still shaking just a little bit as you do, and you rest it on top of your knee for support.

Kyle's hand find its way to your other knee giving it a light squeeze. “How's your arm, luv?” You look at your elbow and shrug your shoulder. “I haven't even had time to check it, good I think, it hasn't bothered me.”

“You didn't get hurt today, did you?” Price asks focusing on your face after doing a quick check-up of you. You shake your head: “No, a headbutt on the ceiling if anything.”

Price nods, satisfied with your answer and shakes his head at the sergeant's questioning look. You look down to the tea, thoughts getting to you. You saw your neighbour get arrested, and if he had gotten free they would have told you. So it must have been someone who works for them, and if he wasn't arrested already is because they didn't really know who works for them. 

“What are you thinking about, birdie?” Ghost brings you back to reality with just a question. “Am I safe here?” You ask, with a shake in your voice. 

“Yes.” Price's answer is concise, full of trust in his own word, leaving no room for doubt. “As long as you are with us, nothing and nobody is getting to you.”

You look at his face, almost as if expecting him to burst laughing at you for trusting them. A voice in your head screams at you not to do it, you barely know them. But you thought you knew your neighbour and now he's trying to kill you, so. 

You nod and take a sip of the tea. Warming you inside and letting you relax just a bit. 

“How about a distraction?” Soap asks smiling at you. “Have we told ye aboot the time Gaz fell from a helo and was hangin’ from a rope like a yo-yo?”

“Fucking hell, Johnny. Shut up!” Gaz complains laughing next to you. 

The time went a bit more smoothly when Soap decided to talk about everyone's embarrassing stories, you could still tell he wasn't telling everything, keeping the classified information for himself, but still telling enough to have you laughing, gasping and asking with interest as he told.

By the time you finished your tea, you were already in a greater mood, the attack from today moved to the back of your head. Price lends you a hand to help you stand up while Ghost takes the empty cup from you. Gaz and Soap keep their word to share the room for the night against Price and Ghost's complaint that they should let you rest alone. Until the words “I don't really want to be alone.” leave your mouth and that's the end of the bickering. 

Soap and Gaz barracks are quite simple, two single beds against opposite walls, two desks, two little bookshelves and two closets. Almost as if there was a mirror in the middle of the room if it wasn't for the little trinkets and details on each side letting you know the right bed was Soap's and the one on the left was Gaz's. 

After a quick rock, paper, scissor championship, it is decided you will be sharing Soap's bed. And since you are already in your pyjamas, you get inside the bed quickly, ready to be done with the day. Soap lays behind you, hugging your middle and dropping a kiss to your temple. “Sleep tight, bonnie.”

A ray of light erupts from the bathroom door that is practically closed, almost as if whoever closed was afraid the click of the door closing would wake you up. At first, you don't think most of it, Soap must have gotten up to pee. But then you listen, and it doesn't sound like that's what he is doing in the bathroom.

Little grunts can be heard as well as the sound of skin hitting skin. You stand up from the bed, curiosity taking control of your body and walking you to peak at the door. You shouldn't, you really shouldn't. But once you lay your eyes on him, you know you are fucked. 

Soap is barechested, leaning against the sink with a hand supporting him while the other strokes his dick. He has his eyes closed, head low with his mouth open slightly, and small grunts and whines leave his lips. 

The grey sweatpants slightly lowered, allowing you to see the curve of his lower back as well as what you trust is the girthiest dick you have ever laid your eyes onto. The tip looks red, hungry for release, pearls of precum dripping from it making your mouth water. 

There is a turmoil of thoughts in your head, you keep repeating to yourself that you need to place some distance between yourself and these men. But the moment any of them show any skin or any emotion of want towards you, you throw yourself at them. 

Three times have you gone through this, your mind telling you is a bad idea and your pussy pushing you at their arms. This time is not different, and before you know it, you are inside the bathroom locking the door making Soap jump.

“Steamin’ jesus, bonnie.” He says shoving his dick inside his pants and turning his back at you to hide his tent. “Knock before entering, lass.”

“Sorry.” You mutter, not feeling sorry and you slowly walk to him. “I just wanted to help…”

“What? What you me-” He gets cut mid-question when he feels your hand grazing his tip, pressing your chest to his back and surrounding his waist with your arm. You use a hand to feel his abdomen and the other to softly caress the length of his dick inside his pants.

“But I can go back to bed if you don't want…” You say looking at the back of his head. “Don't you dare.” He answers grabbing your wrist when you try to take it back and he looks at you over his shoulder. 

“Ye dinnae have to do it if ye dinnae want… but if you want, I'll take anythin’ ye throw at me, bonnie.” He says turning around and cupping your face after lowering his pants again to free his erection. “I had to run to the bathroom cause ye were rubbing yer arse against me on yer sleep, I was about to explode.”

“Well then, I think it's only fair I fix it, right?” You ask looking at him cheekly. He leans down and kisses you smiling into the kiss. Little groans slide into your mouth as you stroke him and you can feel his hips thrust softly into your hand as well. 

For the last two days these men have only but given to you, and as much as you have enjoyed every single second of it, it is about time you give back. 

You pick Soap's hand from your cheek and push it up to your hair. “Make sure to keep my hair away from my face, all right?”

He looks at you confused but quickly gets the idea when you kneel before him. He quickly brushes your hair back with his finger, doing a ponytail at the back of your head and groans deeply when you give a kitty lick to his tip.

You pop his tip inside your mouth sucking softly as you circle it with your tongue. Stroke the rest with both your hands, unable to reach your thumb with your index because of the girth and slowly bobbing your head up and down.

Soap stays mumbling curse words under his breath, low enough to not be able to hear him and you wish you were not hiding in the bathroom and could hear him scream. You think back to when Price ate you out, did he get as turn-on satisfying you as you are getting doing it to Soap? 

He opens his eyes to lock into yours and you look up to him through your lashes as you start to get more inside your mouth. 

“Fokin’ hell, bonnie. Keep looking at me like that and I'm not gonna last a second.” He says struggling to keep his eyes open. 

You chuckle inside your head, and keep getting closer and closer to his hipbone. You must praise Soap's self-commitment to not cum, even though you can feel the grip on your hair getting tighter. When you feel his pubes brush against your nose you pull back taking a breath and look at him. When you lock eyes with each other, you smile and say before opening your mouth: “Fuck my throat, Johnny.”

For a second you get scared that Soap will just cum as you speak when you physically see the shudder that goes through him. But then he grips your hair back making you look up to him and he kisses your mouth in a sloppy kiss. Spit, drool and precum all mixing between your tongues and when he draws back to talk a threat of spit connect your lips. “You are going to fucking kill me, lass.” He mumbles and stands up to full height.

He doesn't let go of your hair and when you stick your tongue out he slaps it with his cock. “Gonna fuck yer throat raw, bonnie. Bite if it gets too much.” He smirks before shoving his dick down your throat in a single thrust and beginning to fulfil his word.

“Fuck, bonnie.” He says slurring his words between moans. “Taking my cock so well, such a good fucking lass, so, so good, fuck.” 

Your visions get blurry with the tears from fighting your gag reflex, your hands rest on Soap's thighs and you can feel them flex with each thrust. If it wasn't for your pants you know you would be literally dripping on the floor, never did you though it could turn you on this much. But seeing Soap becoming such a mess, not being even able to speak, just mumbles and curses leaving his mouth. 

“Let me cum inside, bonnie, please. I wanna see you drink it, please, please, bonnie, please.” He begs looking at your face with a pained expression, and almost as if he was waiting for your answer when you slightly nod he grunts and you feel his spent travel down your throat. He stays like that for another second and finally pulls out, you open your mouth showing him your work and he smiles as he bends down to kiss you again. “Fucking beautiful, love.”

The next morning you are woken up by an alarm and just a second later a door slamming shut. “I call dibs on the bathroom!” Kyle shouts making you jump.

You turn around on Soap's arms, nuzzling your face on his chest and sighing satisfied. “Eejit” Soap mumbles with his chin resting on top of your head.

“Do we have to share the bathroom the three of us?” You ask against his chest.

“Ye didnae seem to mind sharing it with me last night.” He mumbles back and you feel his chest tumble with a laugh.

“Aw, shut up, Johnny.” You say chuckling and yawning. “What time is it, anyway? I feel like I slept just two hours.”

“0540, not too far off to be honest.” He answers and when your half-sleep brain processes what time it is you look at him as if he has just insulted you. “What?”

“Why the fuck are we up before 6 in the morning? Like, seriously, the fuck?” You ask grumpy as you sit up pulling your legs over Soap's torso. He caresses one of your calves and flexes his arm resting his head on his hand. If you were not so bothered to be awakened so early, you would admire his physique. 

“This is the military, love.” He says smiling. “Ye look like an angry kitty.”

You pull the pillow from under his head and hit him with it making him laugh. “Do we need to be ready before six?”

“Yeah, actually, that's when we are supposed to have breakfast. We are meeting Lt. and Price there.” He says taking the pillow from his face. “Ye should get dressed.”

You groan standing up and picking your bag from the side of the bed. You pull your clothes out, and notice that you can barely form a full outfit; you sigh and sit on the floor looking at Soap who is now on his side, elbow on the bed and head resting on his hand. He looks at you with a confused expression and says: “That's all ye packed, lassie? I thought ye were staying more time.” 

He stands up, walks to his closet and picks something from inside just to throw it to your head. An uf sound leaves your throat and you pick it up to see it, it is a sweatshirt with MacTavish written on the back. “It is cold this early in the morning, we don't want ye freezing up. Get dressed.”

He bends down to drop a kiss on your lips leaving you a bit stunned and enters the bathroom without knocking making Gaz protest from the inside. “Stop screaming, it's me. I'm just giving the wee lass some privacy, Gaz.” 

You chuckle to yourself and quickly get dressed, putting on the only pair of jeans you have, and a weird t-shirt from some kind of ad you used to wear to sleep, feeling really grateful it is covered with Soap's sweatshirt.

“What are you doing here, luv?” Price asks standing up when he sees you enter the mess hall following Soap and Gaz. “Everything alright?”

The expression on your face must be portrait-worth because you can see even Simon's eyes twirl with a smile. 

“What do you mean what I'm doing here?” You ask looking at Price, until you hear a little snickering coming from both Gaz and Soap and you finally put two and two together. You turn to Soap and when you finally make eye contact with him, he burst out laughing.

“I'm sorry, bonnie. It was just too perfect of an opportunity to waste it.” He says raising his hand in false innocence. He tries to side-hug you, but you move quickly raising your chin offended and walking up to Price. “I'll fetch ye breakfast as a peace offering, all right, love?”

“That's the minimum you can do!” You exclaim still offended and stick your tongue out to him as you sit between where Ghost is sitting and where Price was sitting, him following you.

“Sorry about that, love.” Price says rubbing your tight. “I told them muppets to let you sleep in today. Did you at rest good?”

Gaz sits in front of you with a smirk, and you don't know if he knows, but you are sure that if he does he will snitch on you so stay on edge making sure not to break eye contact with him.

“Yeah, I did. The bed was surprisingly comforting, and Soap was a weighted blanket so.” You answer still looking at Gaz. You can feel Price's questioning look and Ghost's smirk.

“So Soap was comfortable?” Gaz asks smiling.

“Yeah, quite comfortable.” You answer.

He knows.

He fucking knows.

You don't know how, but he knows.

“Is that why you followed him to the bathroom when he went in the middle of the night?” He asks.

Fucking Garrick.

“I don't know what you are talking about.” You respond looking at your nails.

“I'm talking about when you into the bathroom and helped-”

CLANK

Soap puts the tray of food in front of you just in time, cutting Gaz's claim and starts to enunciate the food he bought. “I got ye coffee cause it's obvious yer not a morning person, I brought ye toast, some fruits and a little cereal cause I didn't really know what ye wanted. And I bought ye chocolate pudding.” He says putting the little cup on your hands, giving you a kiss on your head. “For sucking my dick so good last night.”

Gaz bursts out laughing, happy that he didn't even need to tell anything, while Ghost chuckles under his breath and Price sighs rubbing his forehead.

“I think there is a conversation that we definitely need to have.” Price announces. “For everyone's sake.”

Hiii 💗

Hope you liked the new chapter, please please drop a comment if you like it or if there is any scenarios you would like me to include 💗

Thank you again for all the support, you guys are the best

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[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured V

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: The next day

The day that Alba takes you is the worst day of Alexia's life which says a lot.

For a long time, the worst day of her life was tearing her ACL, the time before that was when her father died but even those moments have been taken over by Alba taking you away from her.

Alexia slept outside your bedroom door that night, adamant that you would open it when you thought everyone was in bed. She didn't have much of a plan after that apart from grabbing you before you noticed her and not letting you go ever again.

But you don't open your door until Alba arrives early the next day.

You shrug off Alexia when she tries to reach for you, whining and crying until Alba picks you up. You're still in yesterday's clothes and no matter how much Alexia begs, you don't even acknowledge that she's speaking to you.

Alba doesn't talk to her either and both sisters are caught in a standoff that forces Olga to pack your bag.

No word is spoken by either you or Alba even as Alexia rants and raves and begs until the front door swings shut behind you.

That's when she really breaks down, crumbling to the floor as she sobs.

Your bedroom door is left open and Alexia can peer inside, clearly seeing where you've destroyed things last night.

Your trains are knocked over. Your ballet pumps are strewn around the room. Your bedsheets and pillows are bundled up in your wardrobe like you slept in there last night rather than your bed.

There was a picture of you and Alexia that lived on your bedside table. You're a newborn in it, lying on Alexia's chest. The labour had been gruelling - thirteen long hours - and Alexia's face is all red. You're red too but completely content. The picture's lived there for as long as Alexia can remember until now.

It lies on the floor, the frame completely broken and unsalvageable. The picture is ruined too, a big rip right down the middle until one half features just Alexia and the other half features you.

"Ale," Olga says softly," I'm...I'm going to call you in sick, okay?"

Alexia shakes her head, wiping away her tears. "No," She insists," I'm going in to train."

"Ale-"

"No."

The radio doesn't get turned on when Alexia drives to her recovery session. She drives in silence, stewing about it all as she pulls into the car park.

It's clear to everyone that she's in a mood which is a little strange seeing as they won the Copa De La Reina last night. No one seems to want to approach.

No one except Mapi, despite Ingrid's hushed warnings.

"So, which one did she choose?"

The words shock Alexia, who nearly drops her shirt. "What?"

Mapi frowns. "Did you not let her choose this time? That's so mean, Ale. Did she at least like the one you got her?"

"Mapi, what are you talking about?"

Mapi rolls her eyes. "The train? You always let y/n choose a new train when we win a trophy. Which one was it this time? Last time I saw her she talked about wanting this fancy red one that you could take the top off to put little people in the cars. Was it stupidly expensive? Is that why you didn't let her choose?"

Alexia clenches her fist at the reminder. She can't think of the last time she bought you a new train. She used to buy one every week. Its all you ever ask for but she can't remember the last one she gave you.

Was it the green one at Christmas or the black one at new years?

No, it can't have been then because she got you a big train set before Jaume was born, wrapped up and placed in the cupboard to give to you the day of Jaume's birth.

But...

Alexia can't remember seeing it in your room this morning.

When recovery is over, she nearly tears the cupboard door off its hinges.

The present is still there, a thick layer of dust covering the pristine packaging and Alexia sobs all over again.

She's in her car before she knows and is banging on Alba's door before she can stop herself.

"Go away!" Her sister snarls.

"Let me in!"

"No! Go away!"

"I want to see her!"

"Fuck off, Alexia! And get lost! You're not coming anywhere near that little girl!"

"She's my daughter! You've kidnapped her! Move!"

Alba looks ready to throw hands again but so is Alexia. She knows that she's got a long way to go but she's got the present from Jaume's birth in the backseat and the train you told Mapi you wanted.

"Kidnapped," Alba scoffs," That's rich. You've been neglecting her! You're lucky I didn't call the police on you!"

"Watch it," Alexia snaps," This is what you wanted, wasn't it? For me to take notice? Job done! I've noticed! Give me Bambi!"

"Over my-"

Alba breaks off as the pitter-patter of little feet sound behind her. She turns, blocking Alexia from your view as you come running towards her.

"Tia! Tia!"

"Hey, bambi. What have you got there?"

"Me and you! I painted it!"

Alba smiles, gently cupping your cheeks as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead. She keeps her body between you and Alexia, desperate to make sure you don't notice.

"It's so beautiful. Why don't you go and put away your paints and then we can put it up on the fridge?"

"Okay."

You run off again and Alba goes to shut the door.

Alexia wedges her foot between it and the frame.

"I'm not leaving," She insists," Not without Bambi."

"Go back to your precious son," Alba hisses," You're not going anywhere near her."

Alexia doesn't exactly have a plan. All she wants is to grab you and take you home. She'll give you your new trains and not let you out of her sight for the rest of your life.

"Alexia Putellas Segura!"

She turns slowly to see her mother walking up the driveway, a face like thunder.

"Mama-"

"No!"

She falls silent.

"Go."

"Alba-"

"Alexia, I will not ask again. Go home to Olga and Jaume. Your presence will do Bambi no good."

Tears water in her eyes. "Mama, I'm trying. I will be better, I promise. Please."

"Alexia." Her mother's voice softens ever so slightly but it's clear she's not going to budge. "This will not be good for Bambi. Go home, reflect and we will sort out a day where you can see her again."

"I want to see her now." Her voice cracks. "Please, Mama, she's only little."

"Go home, Alexia," Eli says," Hold your son but go home and do not come back until you are invited. This is hard on you, yes, but it is much harder on your daughter. Something like this does not happen overnight."

"Mama, I will do anything. Just, please, I need to see her."

"I have already made my decision. You will not be seeing Bambi until I have been told what has happened from her mouth. You will go home and think about your actions. If I don't think your presence will help then you will not see her."

"She's a baby, Mama," Alexia sobs with no shame," I..."

"I know," Eli says," I know, Alexia but we need to start doing what is right for her, not just what is right for you. So, go home while I talk to Bambi and we will see where this goes."

Alexia sniffles and wipes her tears. "I...I have trains for her, in my car..."

"I'll give them to her."

You're sitting in front of a train set when Eli walks in.

She didn't really want to believe it when Alba called this morning, telling her that Alexia had been neglecting you. She hadn't wanted to believe it when Alba said that she had taken you away but seeing Alexia a few minutes ago had made this all clear.

"Do you have room for more trains?"

You look up. "Abuela!"

"Hola, Bambi." She sits down next to you. "I've missed you."

The look on your face is heartbreaking. You look so excited, like you can't quite believe that someone has missed you.

"Really?"

"Of course. I always miss my favourite little girl."

Your face clouds with something that Eli can't quite work out and you say softly," Mami used to call me that."

Eli's heart cracks completely at your words and she has to resist the urge to cry herself. "I hear that you are staying with your tia for a few days."

Alba hovers uncertainly nearby, shifting on her feet even though her eyes are still glued to the windows looking out on the driveway. Eli doesn't have to look to know that Alexia hasn't driven away yet.

She knows that she won't be coming in but leaving and driving back home makes it certain. Eli isn't sure that Alexia wants to admit that just yet.

You nod, looking back down at your trains. The set-up isn't as elaborate as the one you have at home but it's still quite big. You make little chugging noises with your mouth before speaking," Tia Alba says we can go to the beach tomorrow and that I don't have to go to nursery!" Your face goes cloudy again. and you mood drops "I got forgot at nursery yesterday."

Eli hums. "And how did that make you feel?"

Your bottom lip wobbles and Eli doesn't want to push but she needs to know so she can fix this. She wants this to be salvageable. She doesn't want to give Alexia hope that this can be fixed if it can't be. She doesn't want to force you to reconcile if it'll cause more harm than good.

"Mami loves Jaume," You say, face scrunching up," And Miss Olga. They're her family."

Tears spill down your cheeks.

"Your Mami loves you too," Eli promises, feeling her chest go tight," Even if she forgets."

"No, she doesn't," You shake your head," I..." You like around wildly like you're scared. "I...I love Mami but she doesn't love me."

"She does," Eli insists," You are so loved, Bambi. Your Mami is having a bit of a stumble but she does love you."

It's clear that you don't believe her.

"Mami wanted Jaume. She didn't want me."

Eli chokes out a breath. "Who told you that?! Bambi, who said that to you?!"

Your conception was always a difficult subject to breach. Alexia had gotten drunk, slept with someone and woke up with no memory of the experience. She ended up pregnant though, with you.

It wasn't something that they ever told you. All you had ever been told was that you were loved. No one ever wanted to label you as a mistake or unwanted.

It was one of Alexia's deepest shames. She'd always told you that she chose your daddy, that she spent hours and hours choosing the perfect one. She had never wanted to tell you that you were an accident no matter how many times Eli had told her you would find out one day.

To you, you were chosen. Alexia chose to have you, to make you a part of her life. To you, you and Jaume have the same daddy because Alexia chose yours.

Eli should have known this would come out eventually, no matter what Alexia had told her.

More tears flow down your cheeks.

"Was an accident," You sniffle," Didn't mean to listen in. Was meant to be sleeping. Mami was talking to her friends-"

"What did Alexia say, bambi?" Alba's voice is harsh and Eli could never imagine this is what her family would come to.

Two sisters on warring sides and one little girl used as the rope in this tug of war.

"Said that Jaume was planned. Does that mean I wasn't? That I wasn't wanted like him?"

"I'm going to kill her," Alba declares. If she squints, she can just make out Alexia sobbing into her steering wheel. "I'm going to kill her."

"Alba," Eli says," Calm down. Go and make some snacks but do not attack your sister."

"Abuela? Does that mean Mami didn't want me?"

Eli doesn't want to have this conversation. She's never wanted to have this conversation, to have you question your position in this family. She wants to tell you that just because you weren't planned doesn't mean that you weren't wanted. She wants to tell you that you were so wanted by everyone in this room the moment they found out about you.

But, somehow, she doesn't think that will help.

What you want is assurance from Alexia but Eli doesn't trust her eldest daughter with you right now.

It's a horrible thing to admit but it's so easy to see that Alexia adores Jaume. It has always been a little harder to see Alexia's love for you.

Eli doesn't trust Alexia with you in the slightest and she hates that. She hates how splintered her family has become. She can hear Alba pacing in the kitchen and she can make out Alexia still in the driveway, sobbing.

"Your Mami..." She sighs. "I wanted you and your Tia Alba wanted you. You are so loved and so wanted by everyone in the family, Bambi. Do you trust me?"

You nod.

"I'm going to be staying with you and your Tia for a few days and I'm going to make everything better."

"Is Mami and Miss Olga and baby Jaume coming over?"

"Do you want them to?"

"No."

"Then they won't. Your Mami did give me something to give to you, though. They're presents from her."

"Why?"

Eli doesn't want to think about this. She doesn't want to think about why you're even questioning Alexia giving you presents. Every weekend at the end of Alexia's matches, she used to take you to the model train store near your house.

Eli used to be forced to go too and Alexia would let you pick out a new train simply as a present, a gift for being her favourite girl in the entire world.

You were singlehandedly keeping that store in business and the old man that ran it even kept it open late if the match ran over. It used to be your favourite time of the week.

If you're asking her why you're getting presents all of a sudden, Eli doesn't want to think about how long it's been since you must have set foot in that store.

Her voice cracks. "Because you're her favourite girl in the entire world."

She pushes them both towards you.

One of them is covered in wrapping paper so Eli can't tell what it is but she recognises the second one.

It's a red train that you'd been eyeing up since the last time Eli went to the train store with you and your Mami almost a whole year ago. It's big and comes with its own train track and little people.

It's based on those fancy trains that serve afternoon tea and cakes because each of the train cars can have their roofs taken off to place the little people figures inside to enjoy their lunches.

It's stupidly expensive, seven-hundred euros and Eli remembers you telling her that Alexia had promised it to you for your birthday. But your birthday came and went a month ago so to see it now means you didn't get it then.

You don't reach out to tear off the wrapping paper of the first present but you do tentatively touch the front of the box of the train you've been begging for.

More tears then Eli thought possible drops down your cheeks.

"I don't want it," You say eventually," I don't want them, Abuela. I don't!"

"Okay, okay," Eli hushes you softly," I'll take them away, Bambi."

You climb into her lap and sob and Eli wants nothing more than to heal all your pain and stop this but even that sounds too difficult to do. She'd hoped that this was all some big understanding but it's clear that this runs deep, that this isn't something that can be fixed quite so easily.

It's clear that Alba has made the right choice though, to take you away from Alexia and the mess of your home.

Eli had been worried when Alexia had named her as your godmother but it was clearly the right decision. She doesn't want to think about what could have happened if you had been left there any longer.

"Abuela?" You say and the next words out of your mouth are the worst things Eli has ever heard," Do you think Mami would be happier if she didn't have me?"

[kingtomura]

Alley Cat

TW: dark content!!, shigaraki tomura x female reader, noncon, non penetrative smut, humiliation, cum in panties, misogyny, masturbation, snarky tomura, dead dove: do not eat, mdni. wc: 1.8k | cross posted to ao3 Synopsis: You should have known better than to take your usual shortcut home in the dead of night. a/n: To my beloved kaz o'lee :) now get on minecraft w me

You really should have gone home in time. 

You could have, you should have but you didn’t. And now you’re stuck in some dirty back alley at the mercy of some sick psychopath.

“C’mon, don’t look so scared.” His raspy voice cooed, drawing you from your stupor and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “‘S your fault for coming back here.”

His red eyes almost glow in the midnight moonlight as his body cages yours against the brick wall of the building behind you. 

It’s cold, but his fingers are colder as they trail along your sides, moving beneath the warmth of your shirt and chilling you to the bone. 

“What did you expect?” He continues, frost from the air making his breath visible, “dressed like that in the dead of night. You must want some attention.” 

You’ve fought the tears for as long as you could, but they win the battle, cascading down your face, the trail they leave instantly cooling in the cold night air. 

“P-please,” you try, lip wobbling pathetically as you try to plead, “just let me go..”

The man chuckles, his smile as wide as it is cruel. “And why would I do that?”

You have a million reasons why he should let you go, but the only words that leave your lips are whispered and small, “I don’t want this.”

“Dressed like this?” He pulls away, taking the unwanted warmth with him. “Could’ve fooled me.”

His fingers dance to the hem of your skirt, moving to lift it and you’re quick to counter, pushing the fabric back down as you shake your head.

“No!” You try to be loud, shout and maybe someone would hear you, but this only seemed to piss him off. 

His form towers over yours as he crowds your space even more, large hand covering your mouth before you could be any louder. 

“Hey, shut the fuck up” he hisses, scarred lips curled in a scowl. You’re shaking like a leaf and it’s not due to the windchill. 

This man… you know him. 

This is Tomura Shigaraki. An infamous man who could kill you and no one would find him. He wouldn’t even leave a trace. 

So, you close your eyes as the warm tears continue to fall and you sob into his hand, any ounce of humiliation gone to the wind. 

“Aww, c’mon..” he coos and you think he actually believes this is soothing, “it won’t be so bad, promise.”

But you can’t hear him, can’t hear the faux sweet talk as his cold fingers move under your skirt, ghosting against your sheer tights and up to the hem, just near the edge of them. 

You gasp as he releases your mouth. Too terrified to make another noise, you remain frozen, like a deer in headlights as he rips the fabric down, exposing your thighs to the cool chill of the air. 

His gaze raises from your thighs to your frightened eyes as he lifts your skirt once more, this time directing you to hold the thin cotton fabric. 

“And don’t fucking drop it.” He spits as he moves to unzip his pants. 

The sound rings in your ears as you will yourself to stay quiet.

You try to calm your breathing and fail when you feel those same cold fingers pull at the sides of your panties, only pulling them down to your mid thigh but taking the remainder of your dignity down with them. 

“Heh.. why’re you wet?” He muses, noting the way your panties clung to your core like the last threads of your composure. Shigaraki leans forward even more, lips ghosting your ear as he pulls his cock from the confines of his pants. “Knew you wanted it.”

He kicks your legs further apart, making you open them further for better access and getting a tiny whine from your lips.

You can’t bring yourself to look down. You don’t want to see what’s going to violate you, so you close your eyes again, wishing this would all be over before it even began. 

But Shigaraki surprises you. 

Two fingers ghost between your folds, the cold chill of them making you jolt in surprise and let out a small yelp. They were big and thick as they glided back and forth, stroking your cunt as he absently searched for your clit. 

You let out a tiny moan against your will at the way he finds what hes looking for, the bundle of nerves pressed with a touch so soft it surprises you. 

Shigaraki gives a low chuckle, pulling his fingers back and holding them in front of you to show off the way your body betrays your mind. “What a little liar you are.”

“‘M not a liar..” you whisper through budding tears and pray this man finds you pathetic enough to leave alone. 

You are not so lucky and your mind races as he brings those same fingers to his lips to lick away your slick. 

“Whatever you say.” he murmurs, trailing his digits back down and continuing his actions, this time knowing exactly where to press. The feeling makes your knees wobble as the smooth glide of them sends pleasure racing up your spine.

You don't want to like it.

You don’t want him to make you cum.

But, god, he’s going to get you close if he keeps going that way. 

The moans you try so foolishly to hide have an easier time escaping your lips. You fight to keep your eyes closed and avoid facing the object of your humiliation. 

“There we go,” he mumbles as he pulls his fingers away again, unintentionally denying your orgasm that you were growing alarmingly desperate for. 

Shigaraki moves to stroke his nearly forgotten cock, the juices from your arousal helping coat him and he adjusts himself against you. Pin needle pricks of panic race up your spine as you feel the warm thickness of its head between your folds. 

“N-no!” your voice startles yourself as well as the villain against you, making him pause to glare at you, those red eyes shimmering in annoyance, “don’t! I-I don’t want—”

And you’re unable to finish your plea, voice caught as he sticks two of those dangerous fingers into your mouth, the taste of your own arousal on your tongue making you dizzy. 

“What happened to shutting the fuck up, hm?” he hissed, patience wearing thin as you tried not to choke on his thick fingers. “don’t be so dramatic, you’ll feel good, too..”

You can’t stop to decipher his words, the way the warmth of his cock presses presses between your folds silences your mind and you no longer bother hiding your pathetic whimpers, muffled by his fingers. 

It’s slick — slick enough for Shigaraki to glide between your folds and brush past your sensitive clit in the process. 

A low groan leaves his lips as he begins to rock his hips back and forth, enjoying the warmth of your smooth [area], his cockhead teasing but never going further than rutting against you.  

The tears staining your cheeks are endless as his actions begin to warm you from within. 

Shigaraki rocks his hand in tandem with his strokes, getting himself off as he deliberately brushes the head of his cock against your clit. 

You feel empty as he leans forward, forehead against yours and panting as he rolls his hips. It makes you feel as though you’re a mannequin — destined to stand there as this man gets off on your body. 

The unwanted pleasure that sparks up your spine makes you feel sicker than the fingers invading your mouth, your drool dripping down your chin in an indecent manner. 

You’re so close. 

You didn’t think you would be this close by the repetitive motion of his actions alone. 

It’s disgusting how much you like the feeling. 

Even more so by how you’ve shallowly begun to rock your own hips forward, body craving release more than your mind can allow you to believe. 

“Fuck…” you hear Shigaraki’s raspy murmur, it brings you back to the present. It brings you back to your current situation. 

And you finally realize as his hand moves faster and his hips press harder—

He’s about to cum. 

Tomura Shigaraki is about to cum and you pray this will all be over soon. 

Your eyes finally crack open, willing enough to take a peek at your daunting captor. 

He’s watching you. 

He’s watching your every move as he pushes himself closer and closer to the edge. 

It’s too intense, you force yourself to look away, but Shigaraki grabs your chin and meets your eyes again. 

“Look at me,” he breathes, “look at me when I make you cum.” 

This breaks you. Your face contorts in anguish as your body shakes from the pleasure. You can’t deny it now. 

No, you have to face the truth as the blissful euphoria of an orgasm rips through you, tears spilling harder as your cries rise higher than you’d ever want them to.

And this cruel man only smiles. His scarred lips spread wide as he takes in your pain and misery as you gasp for air and clarity. 

Everything feels overwhelming as he sweeps you into a kiss, his rough lips pressed hard against yours as he finally meets his own end. Your heart sinks as you feel the warm spurts of his release against your cunt. 

You groan into his avid kiss, the head of his cock is just shy of your cunt, spilling his cum against you and you jolt in surprise as a rope brushes your clit. He’s ruined your panties, soaked in your own essence and now his. 

Shigaraki pulls back from you enough to sigh against your lips. Watching him come down from his own high leaves you feeling a bitterness as cold as the winter weather. 

The serene expression on his face only brings about more tears from your eyes. Hopelessness evident in each drop as they slowly cascade down your warm cheeks.

Shigaraki observes your distressed form, please smile on his face as he leans forward again, and this time you don't try to pull away as he kisses you — too defeated by him to even fight. 

It’s a distraction, you’ll come to realize as he pulls your ruined panties back up to cover your stained cunt. 

The discomfort is immediate, his cooling seed against your warm folds give a contrast you’ve never wanted to feel and you finally find your strength to push at his shoulders. 

You wanted as much space from him as you could get.

Shigaraki merely laughs, knowing he’s gotten everything he wanted and knowing you would be dumb to strip yourself of your tights and underwear in this dingy alleyway. 

He goes to turn, to leave you alone and let you marinate in the events that just transpired, but not before offering you curt words — words that echo against the walls and ring in your ears. 

“You should be careful getting home, you know. I heard there are villains lurking around here.”

[ghoularaki]

tw kidnapping, noncon, double penetration, slight body horror, virgin! choso

mahito doesn't like a lot of things, but for some reason he liked you. little, defenseless you. he was honestly shocked when he realized you could actual see him instead of just being an invisible gnat flying around you.

how cute you looked when you bumped into him, he had to have you. with no way to say no, mahito picked you up and brought you to where the other cursed spirits lived.

geto simply ignored him, used to his antics, but choso was oddly curious.

"who's that?" the usually reserved man asked.

mahito pulled you closer to him and squished your cheeks between his fingers despite your insistent squirming. "i brought a new toy."

you whimpered at the implicants of what he meant. with how he forced his already hard cock against your butt, you knew you weren't getting out of this unharmed.

the stitched curse picked up on choso's curiosity instantly. whenever mahito dragged in a different humans, choso usually followed geto's example and ignore him. he couldn't blame choso, you sure were pretty for a human.

"hey choso, why don't you join me. humans are so much fun when they are squirming from pleasure."

choso choked on his own spit, not knowing how to respond. his violet eyes stayed lock on your pitiful form. tears had already bubbled over and painted your puffy cheeks. mahito blatantly groped you over you clothes. grabby hands fondling one of your breasts and your hands tried to pried him away, but he was too strong for you.

off in his own little world, mahito pulled you away from choso and called over his shoulder, "suit yourself."

snapping out of it, choso quickly followed mahito to wherever he was taking you. it wasn't like he wanted to know what a naked girl looked like. no he definitely didn't care about that, he just wanted to make sure mahito didn't go too far.

on a raggedy couch, mahito sat you on his lap and impatiently ripped your shirt from your body along with your bra. choso stared at how your breasts bounced from the rough motion. your nipples pebbled from the cold air.

mahito shoved a hand down your pants and found your slit. you gasped at how he swirled your clit, pinched it between his rough fingers.

"don't just stand there. help me take off her clothes," mahito called from over your shoulder.

you sobbed hard. he licked from your chin up your cheek to drink up your delicious tears. from his slimy tongue, you flinched away in disgust.

"your repulsed face only turns me on more," mahito giggled into your ear and rutted up into you.

pulled from his stupor, choso stood above you and delicately released you from your shirt and bra with some struggle. throwing it somewhere into the room, choso then went your pants. ignoring how mahito still hand his hand down the garment, he unbuttoned and unzipped you free.

"w-wait, please!" you begged.

the half curse glanced at you with with tented brows. he didn't want to harm you, but he couldn't deny how his cock strained in his loose pants. so he pulled down your pants and panties, and watched as mahito continued to twiddle your bundle of nerves.

"which hole do you want?" mahito asked choso.

"huh?" choso looked at him, confused.

mahito cackled. "forgot you were virgin. you want her pussy or ass?"

"um, p-pussy?"

mahito hummed, "good choice, i did want to see how far i can stretch her out."

that made you kick up a fuss. you didn't want him anywhere near back there. he was going to break you if he did. plus you had no clue if you could take both at the same time. what did you get yourself into?

pulling his own pants down, mahito pressed a hand on your back so you were bent over, your ass on display. wasting no time, he tapped his cockhead against the tight, untouched hole.

"wait!" you screeched.

laughing at your misery, mahito tugged you back and forced his way into the rim of muscles. your vision went black as he went in with no lube or prep. your chest stuttered from your heaving breaths. he brought your chest to his chest and then tucked his hands under your knees to bring them to your chest. warmth filled your face as your cunt was put on display for the other man in the room.

mahito stood up with you still in his grasp. from the angle he went deep into you. he moaned into your ear as you clamped down on him.

"there, you can fuck her now too."

gulping, choso walked to where mahito bucked his hips into your ass. your cunt clenched around nothing and some slick dripped down to accommodate mahito splitting you open. taking his own cock out from his robes, he followed what he saw mahito do. his cock brushed against your clit until he brought it further down to catch your hole.

nervously, he pushed into you. your breath hitched as he bullied his way inside until the hilt. you were thoroughly filled to the brim. they were both too big.

choso moaned as mahito's thrust caused you to be fucked on his dick. grabbing your hips, choso sloppily pistoned into you. your hands scrambled to grab onto something and deciding on mahito's tensed forearms.

both men used you as nothing more than a fleshlight to chase their own pleasure. inside you, you felt mahito shift inside until his own cock became more ribbed. you whimpered in confusion.

"doesn't it feel nice?" he said in your ear before shoving his tongue inside. you winced and tried to hide your ear from him, but he only laughed. "you're so easy to tease. maybe i'll keep you."

when you clenched down from the scare, choso fucked harder into you. with a few more uncoordinated thrusts, he came deep in you. you cried at the warmth seeping into your gummy walls.

"not fair, i wanted to go first," mahito pouted.

when choso finally pulled from you, the other curse used the cum dripping down to thrust faster into you faster.

"hey, make yourself useful and play with her clit. i want to feel her cum on me."

"her... what?" choso asked, fascinated with his cum drooling from your used cunt.

"the little thing above her hole. touch it."

nodding, choso followed his instructions and shyly dragged a finger up to brush against your clit. when you moaned he took it as him touching the right spot. remembering what mahito did earlier, choso swirled your clit with two fingers to the rhythm of mahito's thrusts.

at the pleasure, you squirmed to get away from it but choso didn't stop. he liked as your own slick dribbled out. human women are fascinating.

when he experimented and pinched the puffy nerves, you came against your will. mahito soon came with you. shoving his cock all the way in past the limits, he made sure your ass swallowed all of his cum.

unable to do anything, you sagged against the curse and let your mind go blank.

still thrusting into you despite already cumming, mahito's cock grew bigger. nuzzling into your neck, he giggled, "yeah, you're definitely going to be my new favorite toy."

[bbydoll18xx]

How Do I Get to Heaven?

'Without changing a piece of me, how do I get to heaven?'

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Themes: angst, slurs, religious trauma, HAPPY ENDING i promise

A/N: hiii so this one is super angsty and sad. I've been going through a rough time, and this is my way of coping. I kinda touched on these subjects in 'She's Such a Good Girl' part 2, and this is similar. I was obsessed with 'Heaven' by Troye Sivan when I was like 15-16 and the lyrics hit a little too hard. If you're gay and were raised in a religious household, I suggest taking a listen.

~

“He’s a fuckin’ faggot!”

“Hate the sin, love the sinner.”

“Those kinds of people are going straight to hell.”

Your face remained neutral. It had to. But you had years of practice, and while you were internally sobbing at the bigoted remarks, there was nothing you could do to stop it. So you stayed quiet, and you maintained your usual look of disinterest. 

Running up the stairs, you finally make it into the safehaven of your bedroom. You shut the door quietly, trying to avoid seeming as if anything is wrong or out of the ordinary. Nothing could possibly be wrong. You were the perfect child; straight As, never in trouble, and you always were eager to help out around the house. But you were harboring a dirty little secret that threatened to rip you from the grips of being the golden girl of your family. 

Sobs wracked your body as you slid onto the carpeted floor of your room. What had started off as an innocent dinner had turned into a nightmare. Slurs were thrown around casually, and unbeknownst to your family, you were the unidentified target. Your sexuality was the reason you had become an empty shell of a person, riddled with fear of accidentally outting yourself. And the anxieties you felt were bubbling up, threatening to ruin the perfect image of yourself that you had crafted for your loved ones. 

This wasn’t the first time. And it surely would not be the last. 

Your family had always claimed to love you. Your childhood was a happy one, but you feared the truth would break everyone. And even if they found out and still claimed to love you, you knew they would always see you differently. Gone would be the girl they knew, and their eager touts would be replaced with hushed whispers. You’d forever be known as “the gay one.” And you fucking resented that.

So here you sat on the floor, trying to quiet your sobs as you mourned the loss of the life you once knew and the people who would eventually turn their backs to you. 

Summer was ending, and soon you would be fleeing back to college, where your guard could be let down just enough to show the world a glimpse of who you really were and who you really wanted to love. 

There was just one girl who you wanted to love you back.

Paige Bueckers was your best friend. And she was so very gay. 

Since meeting her at the beginning of freshman year, she had pulled you out of a darkness that had resided in you since you had realized your feelings towards girls. It did not take long for you to fall madly, head-over-heels in love with her, but you had vowed to ignore it. 

Even if there was any hope of reciprocated feelings, you knew deep down that being in love with a girl would mean having to come out to your family. And you were just not ready for that. You weren’t sure if you would ever be ready for that. 

The thought terrified you. You knew you were willingly inhibiting a possibility of incredible happiness and love, but because it was at the risk of losing your loved ones, you were shutting it all out. 

‘Fuck. I really need therapy,’ you think miserably. 

That was the understatement of the century.

~

The new school year starts, and Uconn’s campus is ablaze with excited students and the possibilities of what is to come. You are finally starting to feel like yourself again, and the second your parents leave your apartment, you don a t-shirt plastered with Diana Taurasi’s face on it. 

You could finally get your gay card back.

A loud knock rings through the empty apartment, and before you could get to the door to answer it, Paige is peeking her head through it, a huge grin covering her face. 

She wastes no time barreling through the room, sweeping you up in a hug and spinning you around. Your feet leave the ground, causing your stomach to flip, and your legs automatically wrap around her waist for leverage. 

“Someone missed me,” you giggle, feeling breathless from being back in Paige’s tight embrace. You had been dreaming of this since you last saw her, back in July. 

“Course I did,” she chuckles, voice muffled against your hair. “You glad to be back?”

You groan. “Fuck, yeah I am. Lookin’ forward to not hearing some slurs for a bit,” you say, fist-pumping the air with a dramatic roll of the eyes. “And I’m especially looking forward to not having to listen to Fox fuckin’ News,” you add, pretending to gag.

Paige’s eyes rake over you, and she pouts, already knowing how your family could be. She had listened to your endless rants and your pathetic cries for the past three years. 

“I think you should just move in with me after this year ends. That way you don’t have to put up with that shit. Then we can be together after graduation,” she says earnestly. 

This was not the first time she had proposed this idea. And while you were internally jumping at the idea, the fear of how it would look to your family made you shy away. Paige wasn’t exactly the most straight-looking girl. Living with her would make things complicated. Your covert feelings had no place in a situation like that. 

You sigh. “I’ll think about it, P,” you promise, linking your pinky with hers, as you always did. 

~

Christmas break quickly rolls around, and Paige’s words are still playing in the back of your mind. Your feelings for her had grown, as if that was even possible, and having to leave her and the safety and warmth that came with her, was agonizing. 

Sitting against the hard back of the pew in your family’s Catholic church, you look around, thinking about how these people would be okay with you burning in hell forevermore. The familiar feeling of shame creeps back into your chest, the flames licking at your wounds. 

You wanted to run and hide. You wanted Paige. 

The Christmas activities persist, and amongst the holiday cheer and piles of gifts, uncomfortable conversations emerge, and you shrink back to your room, desperate for respite.

You felt so fucking abandoned. This was supposed to be a time to enjoy with your family, and instead you were hiding.

There was one person, though, you knew would not abandon you, and that was Paige. Her presence was enough to lessen the sting of the inevitable rejection of your family, and in that moment, it was enough. 

Pulling out your phone, you dial her number, longing to hear her voice, all the way from Montana. Christmas break could not end quickly enough. 

Paige’s smiling face is soon on your phone screen, but it falls as soon as she sees the tears falling down your cheeks and your wobbling bottom lip.

“Oh, baby, what happened?” She asks in a hushed whisper, voice full of anger and concern. 

“They hate me,” you cry. “They fucking hate me, and they don’t even know it yet.”

Paige sighs, trying to find the right words. While she had always had acceptance from those around her, she knew how difficult it was for you to be at home, and she desperately wished to take away your anguish. 

“I love you,” she stresses. “And I know that doesnt fix your family treating you like shit, but soon you’ll be back and everything won’t seem as shitty, I promise.” 

You nod, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. 

She loved you. And you knew that. But you wanted her to love you in the way you loved her. For now, you would take what you could get.

“Just a few more days,” she assures, and you feel the tiniest bit better.

Just a few more days. 

~

The start of the new year always engenders change, and you had promised yourself as the clock chimed to signify it was midnight that this would be the year you would hike up your big girl panties and figure out your shit with Paige. Your senior year had to slow down, and Paige’s proposal had been in the back of your mind since August. 

If you could get over your stupid crush on her, things would be all good and dandy, but your efforts to eradicate her place in your heart were futile. You had mused it over nearly a million times. Maybe you’d eventually get over her, and maybe she would have some bizarre habit that would inevitably give you the ick, ridding you of all romantic feelings toward her. 

You could only hope. 

You pump yourself up on the way over to Paige’s apartment, encouraging words forming on your lips, leaving a trail of fog from your warm breath against the cold air. 

You knock on her door, cheeks pink from the frigid temperatures of Connecticut in January, grateful that it hides your blush. Paige opens the door, eyes wide and hopeful. She always looked so damn alluring. 

Your words leave your mouth before your chary mind could overtake you. “I want to move in with you after school ends. I can’t go back to living like that.”

Paige’s features twist into a smile, and she pulls you in for a hug. “Gonna take such good care of you,” she whispers, and you believe her. Your arms wrap around her middle, anchoring you to the floor. 

“I should probably tell you, though,” she trails, her voice getting smaller as she takes a deep breath. 

You look up at her, confusedly. “Tell me what?”

“I love you. And not just like as a friend. So if you don’t want to live with me because of that, I get it,” she mumbles, eyes trained on the floor.

Your breath quickens at the realization. Paige loved you. And the thought of being a colossal disappointment to your family and potentially cast out did not seem to matter as much anymore. Because here was someone who loved every part of you and accepted the good, the bad, and the ugly. 

The look of shock swiftly morphs into one of unbridled euphoria, and without another thought, you pull Paige in for a kiss. It was filled with the pure longing and want of years of uncontrollable urges and repressed thoughts, and it nearly made all the shittiness worth it.

Pulling away, Paige links her pinky with yours again, just as she had back in August. It was an unspoken promise of love. And while you knew the journey would be inexorably difficult, Paige was worth it in the end. 

~

dang that was rough lol but thanks for reading as always:) I really hope this wasn't too triggering or anything for anyone. This has been such a nice outlet for my pain and anger, as I really don't have anyone to talk to about this stuff. I am here for everyone who can relate. My inbox is open if you guys ever want/need to talk

xoxo katy

[jolalibrary]

DO YOU WANT ME TO HOLD YOU?

javier peña x f!reader summary: javi offers comfort when you need it the most. warnings: none, just comfort on a bad day.

Just thinking about Javier Peña realising the moment you'd taken a seat at your desk that you’re different today. Something wrong, different. That you’re weighed down, sad.

There’s no snark, for one. No bite. There’s an absence of comments about the fact he’s wearing the fucking-red-devil-shirt. It niggling, bothering him, irking him as he tries to solve if you’re being quiet with him, or everyone.

It’s confirmed an hour later, when you make no snide comment to someone else—one you’d usually quickly jump on—that it’s a wider thing than just him.

He struggles to admit that he misses it, your sarcasm. practically hearing it in his head in the same tone you use when it’s just the two of you—there when he's walking you into his place right to the moment before he’s pinning you to his sheets.

And it takes him a moment, another half an hour before he can pull you into the file room, a hard stare reflecting at him.

This where you bring girls when you want a workday fuck, Peña?

He smirks, leaning against the door—taking it because it’s something. Better than nothing. Jaw slides to the side as he folds his arms, waiting, and waiting. Clearing his throat when he sees your façade falling.

“You needed a minute.”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes at the idea. Fidgeting, likely feeling exposed—making his pulse quicken, as he hopes he’s not wrong, not overstepped. The air is so tense and silent, it's loud when he scratches at his jawline, when he runs his palm over his face.

“I’m okay.”

And he kicks off from the door. A considerable gap is still there, but the hard expression from earlier is gone, vanished, leaving behind evidence of a bad night's sleep and a head full of voices sketched across your face.

“Do you want me to hold you?”

You pull your head back, just slightly. Staring, before your eyes dart to the side, bottom lip quivering, blinking, likely swallowing back the lump in your throat as he takes in a heavy breath.

“No,” you whisper.

“Do you want me to hold you, hermosa?”

He watches it shift. Watches it arrive. The tremor first as your resolve begins to snap, to crack right down the middle as angry, tear-filled eyes meet him. He suspects there's hard-to-swallow thickness there in your throat as you nod, and he’s quick, arms engulfing, wrapping—clinging to put the parts of you together as you shudder and break.

It’s crushing, heart-wrenching. hand cupping the back of your head to his shoulder, other around your waist—a familiar place, but today’s circumstances are foreign.

Sob, after sob ripping through you, drowning out his own heartbeat. and then you cough, clear your throat.

“Gonna wet your shirt.”

He smiles, soft, light, just in the corners. “Don’t care.”

You hiccup, cling a little tighter, turn your head on him so you can look up, and he can see your swollen eyes.

“People will think you care.”

“Doesn’t sound all that bad…”

“Javi…”

He snorts, airy, gentle. pressing a kiss to your forehead, not loosening his hold on your hip. “Now I know something’s wrong, only call me that when you’re bouncing on my—”

Your hand firmly slapping his chest makes the rest of the words dilute. As he rests his head against yours, not letting go, not until you do.

jo needed comfort today 🫂 written on phone, so sorry for errors my loves.

[colonelarr0w]

The Shibuya Incident

JJK characters in Shibuya.

INCLUDED - Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto (!Non-Defected), Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Ino Takuma, Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro

WARNINGS - mature themes, foul language, mentions of death, explicit death, gore, canon JJK violence, mental breakdowns, mass murder

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

"Hey, hey. Take a breath for me," Gojo says softly to you, his thumbs smoothing over the skin just beneath your eyes. You're panicking in his arms, eyes flickering wildly about. Your body is shaking in his hold, fear radiating off of you in frantic waves.  

Even with his soft-spoken command, you can't. The ability to breathe feels like it's been ripped out from underneath your feet, replaced instead by sharpened inhales that only make your head spin and your throat burn. The feeling of his skin on your own, while it would've calmed you in any other situation, seemed to only make you feel worse.  

"Satoru," you try to bite out, but his name comes out like a breathy plea. His shoulders sag, the eyes behind his blindfold softening as he watches you descend into your own mind. He's just as scared as you are – walking into that veil was the exact same as walking into the belly of an angered beast.  

He didn't want to do it, and hell he wished that you would've stayed home where at least he knew that you were safe. But duty called … duty always called. "Honey, you have to breathe. Take a breath." 

Though you struggle, you inhale shakily. Gojo nods at you, encouraging you to take another breath. His shoulders raise in an emphasized show of breathing, which he only lowers once he sees your body mimicking the movement of his own.  

"There you go--" 

Gojo's words fall dead on his tongue as you tug his body against your own, arms winding around his waist and holding him in a bone-crushing embrace. In any other situation, he would've laughed at you – teased you even. But this time, he doesn’t.  

His arms wrap around your waist, holding you against him while his cheek lays against the top of your head. He sighs, feeling you shake against him as you conceal your crying into his chest, sobs caught by the thickened fabric of the shirt that he wears.  

"Promise me that you'll come back," you whisper, voice barely audible, but he hears you. Gojo sighs, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his. Your hands shakily lift, pushing up his blindfold to see that his eyes shine with tears just like yours do. "Promise me 'toru." 

He smiles tearfully at you, nodding his head and craning his neck to place a loving kiss against your forehead. He lingers there for a moment, feeling you sigh against him as you close your eyes.  

"I promise." 

"(Y/N)! (Y/N), c'mon, answer me!" Geto must sound like a madman to the sorcerers' that accompany him, but their opinion of him holds no importance – not when he can't find you. 

Your phone had gone dead the moment that you entered the station, which he had expected and anticipated. But it didn't make his heart sink any less when he suddenly couldn't reach you. That meant that he wasn't sure if you were safe, or if you were even alive.  

And now, with an entire portion of the station infested with transfigured humans, Geto had one singular goal. That was to find you and get the fuck out of Shibuya, mission be damned. 

So he sprinted through the train station in a manner akin to a rabid animal, tearing through anything that stood in his path with whatever curse he was able to conjure up. It felt like he had been caught in tunnel vision, only able to see in front of him – all he wanted was to make sure that you were safe. 

"(Y/N)! Thank God, there you--" He pauses, his breath catching in his throat. It feels like he's been punched in the gut. His body stands rigid, eyes widening slowly at the sight that lies in front of him.  

You're there, you're right there in front of him. But your body is held in the hands of a transfigured curse, one with devilish eyes and a wicked smile that quickly burns itself into Geto's memory. He'd never forget that smile, ever.  

Weakly, your head turns so that your gaze meets his. "Suguru," is the only word that you're able to muster up in your current state. The freakishly large hand around you tightens, and with a painful grimace, you're gone before Geto could even process what was happening.  

And he stands there, eyes wide and body stiff, mirroring a position that he stood in years and years ago. 

"Kento …?" Your heart sinks as you slowly approach your husband's back, feeling your chest tighten in fear at the curse that stands behind him, hand raised – Mahito.  

Nanami's spine momentarily straightens at the sound of your voice, head turning just enough that he could watch you walk closer out of the corner of his eye. He wants to open his mouth to tell you to run, to reunite with the others and save yourself. But selfishly, he doesn't. 

He waits until you walk completely into view, shocked that Mahito even lets you. He had expected the child-like curse to round on you and promptly blow you to oblivion in front of his very eyes. He looks tired, exhausted even. You soften, tears already pricking at your eyes. 

"(Y/N)," he murmurs in that silky voice that always had the ability to make you weak. Even now, in a moment where you know that you were both completely and utterly doomed, you smile. Sure, it's a weak little quirk of your lips, but Nanami feels his heart soar at the sight of it.  

You shake your head, eyes flickering between your husband's and Mahito's, struggling to focus on one. Shakily, you lift your arms, readying yourself to attack Mahito. Even as you shake underneath your own fear, you still try to protect him – even if was in vain. 

"I love you," Nanami says to you, breaking your focus on Mahito and returning it to himself. Teary (E/C) eyes flicker to meet dulled hazel, and again, Nanami smiles. Your chest tightens, coiling with guilt over the lack of control that you had over the situation. "I love you … so much." 

"Kento," you breathe out, tears slipping down your cheeks. "I love you too, but--" 

Mahito doesn't let you finish your thought, and in a flash of crimson, Nanami is gone. Your eyes widen, your body stands as still as stone. The curse only smiles, then rounding on you. You exhale shakily, eyes flickering down to what's left of your husband before Mahito's palm hovers in front of your face. 

With closed eyes, you accept your fate. 

"You better fucking be here," you murmur to yourself, skidding on your heels and sprinting through the empty train station. Apart from your ragged breathing, the only sounds that fill your ears are the distant screams of the innocent and the garbled communication between curses.  

Halfway through a one-on-one fight with a low-grade curse, you had felt a prickle of energy across your skin. It was energy that you were familiar with, one that you had committed to memory for occasions just like the one that you were currently living through.  

The moment you felt it, you followed it. Choso. 

You nearly roll your ankle as you skid to a stop, eyes having caught sight of what you had been so desperately searching for. He’s looking around for you just like you had been for him, and the moment your eyes meet, you’re running at each other.  

His arms are around you the moment that you brush against him, tugging you against his chest and burying his nose into your hair.  

You don’t mind being crushed against him, not when you had been out-of-your-mind worried about him since you’d stepped foot in the Shibuya station. 

“(Y/N),” Choso murmurs into your hair, squeezing you tighter as he screws his eyes shut. Your nails bite into his back, bunching up the fabric of his shirt. He doesn’t care, he truly doesn’t. Not when you were safe, not when you were breathing.   

“I’m here Choso, and I’m not going anywhere,” you promise, voice muffled by the thickened fabric of his shirt. His arms squeeze you again, and a comfortable silence falls over the both of you.  

You could both go home and hopefully, just hopefully, you could forget about Shibuya entirely. 

It had been years, fucking years, since you heard that voice. Years since you’d heard that snarky voice either insulting you or telling you that he loved you — there was never a healthy in-between.  

And now, you were standing in front of him. Your ears were hearing his voice, your eyes were seeing his face. Toji fucking Fushiguro. 

But unlike the other times that you had seen him, this encounter was drastically different. He was trying to kill you, not bed you. 

“Toji?” you inquire with a tilt of your head, watching as the broad man stalks you like a lion would its prey. “Toji? What’s …?” Your words fall dead as he swipes at you, fingers closed around the handle of a weapon that you definitely didn't know the name of.  

You jerk back away from him, widened eyes flickering up between the weapon in his hands and his face – which for some odd reason remains blank; you can't read him at all. His eyes are a void, his expression completely void of anything that might even entertain the idea that he was human.  

With every time he lunges at you, you retaliate by taking a quick step back. Your eyes flicker up to Toji's face, and for a fleeting moment both of your eyes meet. His entire body freezes, eyes staring into your own as if you were an alien. The weapon that had been pressed against your chest is pulled away from you so swiftly that you barely process the movement.  

"Toji what the fuck--" 

"(Y/N)." The utterance of your name had you pausing, watching him as he straightened up, rising to his full height. The eyes that once looked like two small black voids are full of life now, their irises that very same color that you once spent hours lovingly staring into.  

How is it that he looked exactly the same as the day you lost him? 

You don't say anything as he steps towards you, his hands dropping the weapon that he had been holding so tightly onto just a moment before. Those same, calloused hands cup either side of your face, holding it just as tenderly as you had remembered.  

You don't know when, but at some point your eyes welled up with tears – tears that Toji thumbs away. He stares down so softly at you, a stark contrast to the hatred that had filled his eyes just seconds before. This was the Toji you remembered, not whatever had attacked you. 

There were very few things that you feared in the world. Being a sorcerer had done that to you, had worn down your ability to feel true, genuine fear. But now? Right now? 

All you felt was icy fear searing through your body as if someone had dunked you naked into an ice bath.  

There was an endless pit where an endless pit definitely should not have been. And standing over it was the one person you had trusted with your life, even if trusting him meant simultaneously putting yourself in immense danger every time that you spent a moment with him.  

His hands are in his pockets, his eyes staring out over the destruction that he had caused with a proud smirk etched into his face. He holds no remorse, you know that he doesn't, but the calmness of his demeanor only adds to your fear.  

"Ryo …?" Your voice is laced with hesitance as you approach his back, legs shaking with each step that you decide to take. He doesn't turn completely to face you, but you notice the small nod of his head in your direction. "What … what did you do?" 

Sukuna sighs – a long and heavy breath that is riddled with pride over his actions. The lives that were potentially lost amidst his destruction meant nothing to him, and they would never mean anything to him.  

"I had my fun," he says plainly, turning completely to face you. He spares you no reaction even though he can so clearly see the fear painted onto your face. It makes him smirk, the tip of his nail running along the underside of your jaw. "Come now, I'm not quite finished with this body yet." 

You shiver as Sukuna walks past you, tearing your gaze away from the gaping hole right smack in the center of Shibuya. You didn't even want to begin to think about the lives that had been lost, how painful and slow their deaths must've been. How much did they scream? How many of them begged for mercy? 

You shake your head, dispelling those thoughts. Hesitantly, you turn to glance at Sukuna, noticing that he had stopped — waiting for you to join his side. You bite your lip, and regretfully, you move to follow him.  

“Hey, there you are. Someone’s been asking for you,” Shoko says with a barely-there smile as you sit up. Immediately, a dull ache douses over your body like someone had dunked you underwater. You groan lightly, pressing a palm against your forehead and glancing up at Shoko.  

“Really?” you murmur weakly, rolling your shoulders as Shoko takes a step back. Ino stands behind her, his arms and legs bandaged just like yours were. His face morphs into relief as your eyes meet his — and even though he stumbles over his own feet, he beelines for you.  

He’s careful not to accidentally upset any of your injuries as he tugs you into his arms, crushing you against his chest and burying his nose into your hair. He can feel you shudder against him, your own arms returning his bone-crushing embrace with one of his own. 

“You’re okay. Holy fuck you’re okay,” Ino murmurs into your hair, barely registering your hands as they comfortingly rub up and down the length of his spine.  

“Yeah,” you whisper into his chest, voice barely audible over the thickened fabric of his shirt. “Yeah, I’m okay.”  

Ino squeezes you tighter, then allowing you to pull away. His hands cup your face, thumbing away the tears that roll down your cheeks. He smiles, and his heart soars when you mirror it. Ino is quick to lean in, lips pressing to yours.  

You return his kiss immediately, leaning impossibly further into him and chasing his lips with your own. He breaks from you, much to your dismay, and leans his forehead onto yours. You can feel his shaky sigh as it fans out over your face, closing your eyes and savoring the feeling of his skin against your own.  

"Don't go anywhere." Ino's voice shakes as he speaks to you, the grip that he has over you momentarily tightening as he tugs you against him. You sigh, returning his embrace just as tightly and burying your face away into his shoulder.  

"Yuuji? Yuuji!"  

He turns at the sound of your voice, ears perked like a curious puppy. The tears sliding down his cheeks feel as though they've paused at the sight of you – stumbling over your feet as you reach him. The moment you do, your arms are locked around his neck, throwing yourself against him with enough force that he stumbles back. 

He hesitates, hands shaking as they hover above the small of your back. Do you even know what happened? Could he tell you? 

You pause at the feeling of his body trembling against your own. His arms were locked at his sides as if he had lost all ability to even use them. You slowly take a step back from him, noticing the faraway look glazed over his eyes and the way that he struggles to focus on one single thing – including you.  

Hesitantly, you lift your hands to his cheeks, palms laying against his skin. Your touch almost immediately brings him back to reality; you can see it in the way that his eyes snap to meet your gaze, wide and slightly fearful. But not scared of you, rather, scared of himself.  

"Hey, what's--" 

"Don't. Please don't," he interrupts you, shaking his head against your hands. His palms lift to lay over your own, fingers squeezing you in a way that silently begged you not to leave. You nod, steering his head down to yours so that your forehead can lightly rest against his own.  

Wordlessly, you nod. Your hands shift in position, arms wrapping around his neck again and bringing his body back to your own. His hands immediately go to bunch up the back of your shirt, fingers curling into the fabric in a way that screams 'Don't leave me'.  

And you don't. You stand there, closing your eyes and letting Yuuji cling to you as if you were the last bit of what could keep him sane – and in a way, that was exactly what you were. To Yuuji, you were a lifeline – a resemblance of the humanity that he continued to throw away the more that he switched with Sukuna. 

"I'm right here Yuuji," you whisper into his shoulder, receiving a loving squeeze in response to your words. "And I'm not going anywhere." 

“Promise me you’ll come back safe,” you say, squeezing Megumi’s hands and blinking back the tears that had slowly begun to gather along your waterline. He sighs, reaching one of his hands up to lightly cup the back of your head.  

He brings your forehead to his own, closing his eyes the moment that his skin comes into contact with your own. He can feel you shudder against him, a shaky sigh falling from your nose. “I promise you … with everything I have in me, I promise you.” 

But that had been hours ago, and you had no idea if Megumi was safe. You had separated from him shortly after that conversation, with you joining Nobara and Nitta and Megumi going off to find Yuuji. In the two hours that you spent fighting against curses and transfigured humans, you hadn’t heard anything about any of the others — including Megumi. 

“I’m sure he’s fine. He’s with Yuuji after all, isn’t he?” Nobara says reassuringly to you, nudging your shoulder with her own. You turn to glance at her, swallowing the lump in your throat and forcing your head up and down in a nod.  

“Yeah … I guess so,” you answer hesitantly, smiling weakly as Nitta places a comforting hand on your shoulder. The three of you continue walking, a comfortable yet uncomfortable silence falling over your heads. Surrounding you are the sounds of a distant chaos, bystanders scream, transfigured humans gurgle out grotesque noises — reality doesn’t quite feel like reality.  

You pause at the sound of something approaching you, both Nobara and Nitta stopping as well. Three pairs of eyes gaze down a darkened alleyway, and your heart stops at what waits at the alleyway’s end. 

Megumi’s Divine Dog. 

Its ears prick upward at the sight of you, eyes fixed on you in the darkness. Its tail flicks back and forth before it approaches you, not stopping until it nudges its head into the palm of your hand. You scratch lightly behind its ears, eyes flickering to Nobara.  

“You both need to go … I need to find—“ 

“No way. What if something happens to you too?” Nobara interrupts you, reaching out and clasping your shoulders. The shikigami barks angrily in Nobara’s direction, protectively stepping in front of you and making the brunette stumble back.  

“Nobara, I can’t just leave him where he is,” you insist, blinking back tears. “I have to. I have to go and find Megumi.” 

Nobara shakes her head again, and instead, she pulls you into her arms. You still, glancing at Nitta, who only looks away. “You can’t (Y/N).” 

“He sent the dog to make sure that you don’t look for him.” 

[lokiswifeduh]

Don't leave me

Pairings- Mob!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary- The aftermath of the shootout was here. And Bucky has to come to terms with the results of the life he introduced you to, and what revenge he would ensue.

notes- this is a part two to Doll, please. I hope you guys enjoy the ending!! Please let me know your thoughts!! Thank you for reading loves!!

Warnings- angst, talk of guns, drugs, kidnapping, abuse, torture. major gore. sad Bucky, hurt reader, hurt/comfort, gunshot wounds, medical talk, revenge.

WC- 3k

catch up here (part one)

masterlist

"Doll, please."

I saw her look up at me with those doe eyes. Those big beautiful eyes painfully gazing into mine. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to turn her away from the bullets that were sure to fly our way, but I couldn't move my hands. In this moment I couldn't protect her.

I felt the sob rip from her throat. There were only ten seconds left.

"I vowed to stand by your side, Buck." She looked back to the ten guns pointed in mine and her direction. I could see a stray tear slip down her cheek as her hands shook, her nails digging into her palm as she tried her hardest to release my wrists from the painful wire digging into them.

Suddenly she dropped the knife, jumping into my lap. Her hands wrapped around my neck as her legs surrounded the back of the chair, encasing my upper body. "NO! Doll, please!!" I felt her hit the knife in my thigh with hers, but I ignored the pain focusing on what in the world she thought she was doing.

The men cocked their guns. But in that moment all I could think about was how to get her off of me. I needed her to run, to fight back to do something. Not to protect my body with hers. I couldn't let her.

"Doll!! Stop!! Get up!!" But my protests fell on deaf ears as she tucked my head into her chest, wrapping her arms tighter around my neck, not letting me move a muscle below her. She shook her head, my tears soaking her shirt, mixing with mine and her blood. "I won't let you die." She attempted to shout but at that moment her voice was the quietest I'd ever heard it.

I tried to whisper back when suddenly shots rang out through the warehouse. My head popped up, prepared to die with the love of my life. I wouldn't let her do it herself. I would not live without her. Not if I had a choice.

But in that split second, I realized the first bullets that went flying weren't from Rumlow's men, it was from Steve, Sam, and my men, shooting at the ones who threatened us.

"Doll, we're gonna be oka-" But my words were cut short as two bullets flew into her. She screamed. Her vocal cords grinding together in the most painful way I'd ever heard. I felt my heart rip in two as her body shook against mine, arching her back as if that would stop the pain.

But she kept her head down, arms shaking yet still holding onto me. I would have cut my hands off if I had the strength to rip through the restraints. A sob tore from my throat, "Don't do this to me."

She finally lifted her head, my beautiful wife looking at me with such care and tenderness. As if she hadn't just been shot twice, and wasn't using all of her strength to hold onto me for dear life.

A small drop of blood trickled down the side of her mouth as her teeth were painted red. "I love you, James Barnes." She cupped my face in her hands, tucking me back into her chest as her grip seemed to loosen, "Till forever and always."

The words we both said to each other on our wedding day. "Doll, please." Her hold on me finally failed as she fell, but thankfully into the arms of Steve, before her head would've slammed into the concrete.

My second in command looked at both of us. Tortured and bloody. I held in my tears as I looked at Sam, leading a pair of medics through the door.

"Rumlow will pay." The wire from my wrists was snapped in half thanks to Peter, a new, very terrified recruit. I shot down immediately onto my knees, holding her head in my hands as the paramedics loaded my wife onto the stretcher. "Don't leave me."

I made eye contact with Steve, "I will have him and that traitor's head."

_________________

You lay in the hospital bed, your whole body practically wrapped in soft white bandages.

You could feel the pressure of something on your thigh as you tried to open your eyes. It wasn't working. Why couldn't you just open them?!

Try something else, you thought.

You moved your hands, the feeling of someone else's palm in yours made your heart start to race. You could remember little parts over the last three days.

Bucky was kidnapped.

Steve was put in charge.

You were kidnapped.

Natasha was working with Rumlow.

The torture.

The pain.

Your husband's face as you used yourself as a human shield.

Being shot.

Suddenly you heard screaming and saw bright lights. A heart monitor was beeping louder and faster at each passing second.

Realizing the screaming was in fact your own, you started to breathe harder. You finally could open your eyes!

Your surroundings were blurry at first. There was a familiar figure in front of you. Sounds were muffled but began to come back into focus.

"Doll?! Sweetheart, you're okay."

You shook your head, looking around in panic before realizing you were in fact back at home, in your bed. Bucky beside you. Your husband, holding your face in his hands.

"B-Bucky?" Your voice was raspy and your throat felt like sandpaper, rubbing together from underuse.

Involuntarily you started to cough, holding a hand up to your throat which only caused more pain in your back to bloom. "Ah," You groaned, swallowing before resting your head back on the pillow.

You felt Bucky's hands leave your body, but only for a second as he held a straw to your lips. "It's just water doll. I need you to drink this for me." You nodded, feeling a pounding in your head as you sucked down the refreshing liquid. The coolness soothing your throat like rain in the desert.

"Good girl." Bucky gave you a soft smile, taking the straw away from your mouth as you finished the water.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you regained your vision, looking around.

Monitors, medical equipment, and an abundance of flowers and cards filled your and Bucky's bedroom. Light shone through the window as you squinted, shooting over to look at Bucky who just gazed down at you worryingly.

You looked him over, seeing the cuts and bruises that adorned his face. His lip was split in multiple places. His thigh was wrapped in gauze and his wrists were bandaged. Looking down, so were yours. Actually, it seemed your entire body was.

"Are yo-," You swallowed, "Are you okay?"

Bucky took a moment before letting out a laugh. "You're asking me if I'm okay, doll?" You nodded, confused.

"Sweetheart you're the one who's been unconscious for three weeks and has two bullet wounds."

You twisted your hips a little, feeling the agonizing, shooting pain of the very real bullet wounds. Groaning, you whispered, "So that definitely happened, good to know."

Bucky ran his hand down the side of your face, sitting in the chair that was placed beside your shared bed. "I'm the one who's supposed to protect you, doll." You gulped, "I- I couldn't let you die, James."

Bucky closed his eyes, laying his head down on your thigh as he gripped your hand in his. "I would've rather die than see you in this state, sweetheart."

You lifted your other hand, running it through his untamed hair. "Don't say that, Buck." But his head lifted, making you notice his bloodshot eyes and the way tears streamed down his face in harsh lines. "I won't live without you, doll." He shook his head, a tear dripping onto the hospital blanket "I would rather die a thousand times over and over in the same painful way than see you in such agony, my love."

You held back tears, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your breath. "I couldn't- no. I wouldn't let you die like that, Buck." You looked at him once again, "Not at the hands of Rumlow. Not because of me." "This wasn't because of you, doll-" "But it was!" You shouted, making you cough slightly, not used to using your voice for this long yet. "Rumlow took you because he wanted to hurt us- because he wanted me." You cupped Bucky's jaw in your hand, "Because I chose you." Bucky gulped, "I've never been so scared." You softly laughed, thinking of all the shootouts, drug deals, and interrogations Bucky went through on a day-to-day basis.

But he shook his head, hearing your chuckle. "Seeing him hurt you and torture you the way he did." Bucky's eyes went dark, "I've never wanted to hurt someone so bad just to ensure you made it out of there safely." You tried to speak up but Bucky kept going. "And look at you now. You're laying here, with two gunshot wounds, fingernails ripped apart, and a busted-up face."

Tilting your head, you looked at the mirror that stood in front of your and Bucky's bed; genuinely taking in your appearance. You in fact did have a busted-in face. Your lip was split. Your eyebrow was stitched as well as your nose. You had bruises covering every inch of your skin and your hair was in the worst shape you had ever seen.

Gulping, you looked away from the mirror, making Bucky take your chin in his hands, guiding you to look him in the eyes. "But you're still the prettiest doll I've ever seen." He moved, bringing his lips to yours in a soft yet long-awaited kiss. "My best girl."

It hurt to smile but you did, bringing your hand to his face, gently rubbing over the matching bruises that mirrored yours. "I love you, James."

"I love you, doll."

________________________

The next few days were agonizing.

You could finally stand up on the third day. But not without terrible pain shooting in every nerve ending of your body.

Bucky helped you with everything. From showering to cleaning your wounds. He was quite the nurse when it came to you.

But unfortunately about a week after you woke up, the violence hadn't ended. There were still some loose ends to tie up.

Slowly walking down the stairs and into one of the main rooms, everyone's attention went to your hobbling frame. "Doll?" Bucky sped over, Steve immediately pulling up a chair so you could take a seat.

As you sat down you noticed a large bruise on Steve's jaw. You knew Bucky would eventually be mad at him for not properly making sure you stayed out of the mess and violence of it all. But you were hoping it would've been a stern lecture, not a punch.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Bucky whispered. The room stayed completely silent as Steve, Sam, and the rest of Bucky's men kept their backs turned, giving you two some privacy.

"I know you're planning to retaliate against, Rumlow."

Bucky nodded, taking your face in his hands as you fidgeted with the string of your sweatpants. Well, Bucky's sweatpants.

"I don't want you involved again, doll." He glanced back at Steve for a moment, "Not after what happened."

You shook your head, "I need him to pay for this, Buck." Your body shook with anger, "I want his fucking blood." Bucky was slightly startled, never seeing this much hatred in your eyes. You were always his sweet wife. You made the men cookies, and you organized charity events for the homeless shelter down the street.

Sure, you knew how to use a gun and fight if you had to. But seeing this much agonizing resentment on your face, scared him. But he knew you wouldn't let it go. He sure as hell wasn't.

So he let you know the plan, and what was going down.

______________

"Steve? We good?" Bucky touched the earpiece, hearing an affirmative. The mob had infiltrated Rumlow's mansion only one week later, killing every single man who stood in their way. Shoot on site. Was your husband's order as you and he waited to enter the mansion, making sure only Rumlow and Natasha were left.

Two of Bucky's men opened the doors to the mansion. The sight of the place made you cringe slightly. Soldiers were dead on the ground everywhere. Blood painted the floors and staircases like a stain.

"Top floor, back left bedroom."

You heard Steve's voice echo through the earpiece as you and Bucky made your way up.

His hand never left the small of your back, making sure you were covered at all angles with men following behind and in front of you, rifles pinned for every aspect of an attack.

"You alright, doll?" Bucky whispered, his hand on the door that would lead you to Rumlow. You nodded, ignoring the dull pain in your back. "I need this to be over with." Your husband kissed the crown of your head, nodding to his men as they busted down the door, guns held high.

But the sight in front of you made you smile.

Rumlow was beaten down, cowering in the corner of the room as Natasha stood in the corner, you could see the fear in her eyes. The same fear she caused you as she ripped your fingernails to pieces.

"Brock Rumlow," Bucky spoke in a deep voice, pulling on a pair of black gloves, before handing you a matching pair.

You slipped them on, hand placed on the knife that was strapped onto your thigh, just above the black jeans you had on.

Steve and Sam patted Bucky on the back, looking toward you with respect. "Have fun, you two." The blonde spoke, before exiting and closing the doors behind them.

"P-please, Barnes." Rumlow pleaded, "Have mercy."

Bucky was about to laugh before Natasha beat him to it. "Oh, please. You two really think he was the mastermind behind all this?" You looked over at the redhead in the corner, your former friend.

"If he's not, does that mean you are?" Your voice carried through the room, a newfound confidence making you raise your head high.

Natasha grinned, "And here I thought you never would've survived." You tilted your head, "Two bullet shots and I'm walking four weeks later." You pulled the gun from your other holster, "I can't say the same for you after this." You pointed it right at her forehead.

"Come here," Bucky moved forward, knowing you had Natasha pinned with the intent to shoot; dragging Rumlow up as two of his men held him on his knees.

"Nat, please. Do something." Rumlow begged, making you let out a laugh under your breath. "Do you think she's really in the position to?" You saw her move forward slightly, making you cock your gun, "One more step and I blow your fucking brains all over these white sheets."

Bucky grinned, loving this color on you.

"You really thought you could take my girl from me?" Your husband kneels in front of Brock, pulling out a knife from his belt. "What did you call her after breaking her nose? Oh, that's right, a 'lovely specimen."

Bucky's smirk dropped, nodding at the two men holding Brock down as they forced his mouth open. Brock shouted and yelled as Bucky gripped the end of his tongue, pulling it from his mouth and slicing it clean off from the base with his knife.

Brock wailed and cried as another soldier brought over a jar filled with a yellow liquid, opening the top so Bucky could drop the tongue in. He closed the lid, holding it up high as he watched Brock's mouth fill with blood. "What a lovely specimen."

"You two are fucking sick." Natasha, sneered, making you grip the knife from your own holster, throwing it and landing it right in her hand that was held in the air. She screamed, falling to the ground and back up until her back hit the wall.

You kneeled down, gun still pointed in her face, "Talk again and next time your tongue will join his in the jar." Your former friend gulped, nodding as you smirked.

Bucky gripped the front of Brock's shirt, making his back touch Bucky's chest as he held a knife to his throat. "Anything you wanna say before I kill you in front of your girlfriend, Rumlow?"

You laughed, slightly, making Bucky huff in humor. "Oh, that's right. You can't" He whispered the last part before slicing a clean and deep cut across his neck, blood pouring out as he collapsed to the ground, whimpering and sputtering in pain as he bled out, his eyes on you in fear as he eventually stopped moving.

Natasha looked back at you, still clutching her bleeding hand into her chest. You kneeled down, "Why, Natasha?" She shook with terror, hardly being able to force the words out. "Why did he have to pick you?!"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "What?" Natasha scoffed, looking over at your husband, then back to you.

"Before you came along I thought he could love me. But then you showed up, taking all Bucky's attention. I never stood a fucking chance." You laughed, sighing before standing and walking over to Bucky, placing a hand on the back of his head before smashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. He groaned, biting your lip and making you moan into his mouth.

You chuckled, still holding the back of his head in your hand. You lifted your arm, perfect aim.

"No, Natasha. You never stood a fucking chance." One, two, then three shots rang out through the room as you planted two bullets in Natasha's head, and one in the chest.

Dropping the gun, you saw her body slump to the ground. Dead.

Bucky turned you away from the scene, bringing your face into his hands as both of you had unshed tears in your eyes. "It's over, doll."

You nodded, holding onto his hands as they held your face. "Can we go home, Buck?" He nodded, bringing your face into his chest as he walked you back through the house and into the car. "We're going home, doll. I'm never leaving you."

End

__________________

part one (read first)

masterlist

Taglist:

@yeahyeahyeah23-blog @rinniereads123 @shortnloud @julvrs @unaxv @sapphirebarnes

[neteyamssyulang]

♱ Wild Encounters ♱

♱ Easter special ♱

♱ Pairing: Adult Neteyam x Fem human reader ♱

♱ Summary: While on a late night walk in the woods, you immediately regret your decision.

♱ Warnings: Dom Neteyam, Sub reader, Neteyam in rut, Dub-con?, P in V, Size difference, Creampie.

♱ Translation(s): Tawtute -> Sky person, Tìyawn -> Love.

♱ Word count: 653 ♱

♱ A/N: Happy Easter my darlings!

♱ Tagging: @teyamshuman @ikeyniofthetayrangi @itchaboi-itchyboy @aria-tempest @anemonelovesfiction @loaksulluyswife @kia-wolfie @tallulah477 @kariz-stark

When you decided to go for a late night walk through the forest, this is not what you had in mind.

The air was temperate, the breeze was cool, the bioluminescent moss lighting your way though the endless forest. It felt good to be out here, so perfect and free.

Tonight felt different though, like someone was watching you from the shadows. Whenever you turned around however, there was nobody around. It was like pandora was playing a prank on you, making you feel crazy and on edge.

Glances over your shoulder now and then would ease that nervousness inside of you a bit but it would never fully go away. A twig snapping behind you made you turn around instantly, only to be met with, him.

You've heard stories about the omaticaya prince from humans that went back and fourth from the village, yet none compared to what is infront of you right now.

His eyes, normally described yellow like honey were green, with slits for pupils. His skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and a noticeable tent was in his tewng.

"Such a pretty little tawtute" he purred, stepping closer towards you. Instinctively, you took a step back making him growl.

In an instant, you found yourself laying flat on your back with the huge na'vi hovering above you. He was so large compared to you, having to bend his back a bit to bury his head into the crook of your neck.

"Please, don't do this.." you begged him, unfortunately your pleas fell on deaf ears as he ripped off your shorts, along with your panties and shirt.

"You do not tell me what to do, little girl" he hissed, moving his loincloth to the side. His cock slapped against his stomach, beads of pre-cum already oozing from the tip.

Holy mother he was huge, that would never fit inside you. No way, no how. "That thing will ne- ahh! oh shit!" Your cut off as he immediately rammed his cock inside your tight pussy.

"Fuck.. so tight..so good" he moaned, with no preparation the stretch felt unbearable to you. It was like he was tearing you in half, literally.

Tears streamed down your face as you dug your nails into the palm of your hand, leaving small crescent marks. Without warning, Neteyam pulled out only to slam back inside. A noticeable buldge could be seen from your stomach where his cock was buried.

Neteyam hovered above you, his large frame making you feel even smaller compared to him. His arms caged you in as he started rutting into you like a rabbit in heat.

The forest was filled with the sound of his hips slapping against yours, along with the lewd sounds he kept pulling from your lips. You've never felt so full in your life, not even the toys you had could make you feel this way.

"That's it" Neteyam purred, coiling his tail around your ankle. He leaned down, burying his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent.

You whined, clawing at his shoulders as you felt your climax approaching. Neteyam groaned, picking up his pace "Is the little human gonna cum for me? Hm?"

Leaning back up, he gazed down at your flushed face. You nodded frantically, desperately wanting to cum already. Neteyam smirked,"Cum, be a good little slut and cum.on.this.cock!" With each word he delivered a hard thrust, his tip kissing your cervix.

A choked out sob left your lips as you came hard, squirting onto his lower abdomen and thighs. Neteyam hissed feeling your walls squeezing around him tightly, with one last thrust he buried himself to the hilt inside, painting your gummy walls white.

Panting heavily, you gazed up at him, his green eyes slowly turning back to the warm honey ones you heard so much about.

"Your mine now, pretty human" he murmured.

[hyunverse]

when you know, you know ☆ hwang hyunjin.

hyunjin x gn! reader. fluff. hurt comfort. no warnings.

wc: 800 words.

song: margaret by lana del rey.

in the darkness of the night, he asks for your reassurance. super soft hyune.

“Why do you love me?”

Hyunjin whispers, his voice hushed akin to a nightingale’s, it blends with the darkness of the night. You feel his body shift closer towards you, his warmth blanketing you better than the cotton duvets could. 

He waits, and you swallow as you try to put your words together. Hyunjin hasn’t been feeling the best, constantly letting his mind drift as his eyes stare at the wall. You know that with the right words, he’ll hopefully pull away from the awful headspace. 

“Well,” you mumble, inching closer towards him to the point he could smell the mint in your breath. “I like the way your eyes light up whenever we visit your favourite bakery and you see that your favourite baguette’s fresh from the oven. When you run around with Kkami in your backyard and desperately try to get his kisses.”

You pause, looking up at him to catch sight of his softened expressions. 

“I like it when we visit your parents and your mom lets you taste her food. You tend to dance around and giggle. It’s cute. I also love the way your eyebrows scrunch when you observe your painting. Or when you spill coffee on your shirt and pout at yourself.”

All of the words spill from your mouth in one breath — seamlessly, like you’ve memorized all of them and have been waiting for someone to ask. It leaves Hyunjin speechless.

“So,” his voice trails, “You love me for just me? Not for what I can give, but for me?”

You nod, reaching a hand out to push his bangs off his forehead, then lean in to kiss. 

“Of course, I also like you for what you have to give. It’s like an added bonus. Ultimately, I love you for you and your little things.”

Hyunjin could only weep. A rivulet of tears traces down his cheeks as he sniffles. Through his tears, he tries to speak.

“I thought,” he sobs, “I’ll only be loved if I give something — if I keep giving. I didn’t know I could be loved for just me.”

The confession has your heart aching — like somebody had ripped your heart from your chest and squeezed it dry. Your hands reach to his face and wipe away his tears, but the tears keep coming. So, you wrap your arms around his neck and cradle him, and he nuzzles his face into your shoulder like he wants to hide away from the world. 

“My baby,” you comfort him. His demeanours since the past week suddenly made sense — the extra hours he’d spend in the studio and coming home long after dusk. Seungmin telling you that he’d been staying back even after all the members had left. “Is that why you’ve been working so hard?”

You could feel him nod, and so you reach to his nape and gently massage — an attempt to comfort him. You wish you could do more. You’d take away all his pain and endure it by yourself if you could.

“You don’t have to push yourself too much, my baby,” you whisper, “I’m proud of you even if all you did was breathe.” 

At that, Hyunjin pulls away. He looks into your eyes, his own a pale red. 

“How did you know that you love me?”

You smile. Gently, you squeeze his shoulder. He could feel the affection in the action.

“I just knew.”

"You... just knew?" he repeats your words like a pre-schooler learning ABCs for the first time.

A fragment of your memory comes into mind — of the first time you told him you love him. Hyunjin was biting into a footlong baguette in his favourite cafe, happily dancing in his seat. The smile that plastered across his visage at the time was huge, it reached his ears and formed crescents under his eyes.

People say that it’s not hard to realize that you’re in love with someone. The feeling either hits you hard, or it seeps into your bones gently. Either way, you’d know. 

When you know, you know. 

You knew, then. 

“When you bit into that footlong baguette in the cafe, I just knew. I was in love with you.”

This time, Hyunjin smiles. Like moonlight that brightens darkness, he smiles. Like you just put up stars in the sky for him. 

Hyunjin remembers it too. It’s not easy to forget the memory, of how he stopped in his tracks and stared at you. How his heart fluttered in his chest and realization seeped into his bones, prompting him to tell you that he loves you too.

Another tear cascades down his cheek but this time, it’s from happiness. You giggle, reaching out to wipe the tear and to press a kiss on his nose. 

“I love you, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin looks at you like it's the first time someone has ever told him that.

“Say that again, please.”

disclaimer — © 2024 hyunverse on tumblr. all rights reserved. authors works are protected under the copyright law. do not plagiarize or translate my works. tumblr is my only platform.

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[highvern]

Waited

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: smut (18+)

warnings: mentions of mental health/poor self image, drug use (weed), alcohol consumption, cheating, violence (nothing explicit), oral, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, degrading, spanking, marking, jealous Yoongi, rip Namjoon, bi Taehyung

Length: ~4.2k

Note: this originally was gonna be a short FWB smut but alas nothing turns out like i plan hahahahahahahahah shoot me thank you @the-boy-meets-evil and @onlyhuis for subjecting yourselves to this mess.

Summary: Best friends since childhood means you can tell each other anything. Right?

m.list + support my work

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Yoongi enters your world three days before you turn six years old. His parents buy the house across the cul de sac that's sat empty for months and show up with a moving truck and their two sons. While they're unpacking your mom walks over to welcome them to the neighborhood and you hide behind her leg to stare at the boy with a choppy bowl cut who stares right back from behind his own mom’s leg.

You dub Yoongi your best friend in fourth grade. It’s a silent declaration but one he quickly falls in line with. He’d always been the smallest in class, easy cannon fodder for bullies that want to push around the quiet kid. One time too many people called him stupid under their breath and you snapped. After school detention for three weeks and a handwritten apology addressed to the boy with a broken nose is the price you pay but no one messes with him again after that. 

The first time you realize your best friend is handsome is senior year of high school. An hour before prom your date decided he wanted to go with someone else and Yoongi, who had zero interest in “cliche, organized humiliation rituals” trugged across the pavement to your house in a borrowed tux too big in the shoulders.

He posed for pictures while both your parents cooed, hands respectable at your waist as you both smiled through the awkwardness. His brother drops you both off and slips a contraband flask full of shitty alcohol in Yoongi’s hand before taking off. 

You pretended not to notice when Jisung and Yoongi both simultaneously disappeared, only to reappear twenty minutes later; Yoongi sporting bruised knuckles and the traces of what would become a black eye come the next morning along with a split lip. Instead, you take another sip of what must be gasoline and pull him to the dance floor. During the singular slow dance he allotted, with your head against his shoulder and the reak of his older brother’s after shave burning your nose, you realized you wouldn’t mind if he kissed you. 

The rest of the night is spent emptying your guts in Yoongi’s ensuite because your parents were so confident nothing would happen between the two of you that sleepovers at Yoongi’s were too common.

The first time you kiss Yoongi is also the night you lose your virginity. Your sophomore year boyfriend broke up with you two days before finals. Yoongi couldn’t stand Taehyung or the way you apparently believed he shit rainbows so you expected him to find nothing but joy in the news. 

But when you showed up outside his apartment, elephant tears streaking down your face as you gasped around an explanation, Yoongi said nothing. He simply walked into the kitchen, pulled out the bottle of liquor he saved for special occasions, and passed it to you along with a shot glass. 

He let your drunken sobs stain the collar of his shirt until you laughed yourself hysterical at the irony of it all. How Taehyung claimed he wasn’t ready for anything serious when he pursued you first, how he broke up with you after you told him you weren’t ready for anything physical. 

“Fuck him,” Yoongi grumbled, burrowed between the pillows of his bed.

Your head lulled onto his shoulder with a snort, “I think that was part of the problem.”

Then you kissed him and Yoongi kissed you back. And when you planted yourself in his lap and touched him, he took the chance to touch you too. At some point your clothes were gone, allowing your best friend to take as much liberty as he liked. But even though the details are fuzzy you know he was gentle and devout. Yoongi took all the time in the world, pushing and pushing until you almost broke and melted to the floor.

And after all was said and done you cried while Yoongi held you until your eyes swelled shut.

The next day Taehyung called and asked to work things out. Like a naive fool you agreed and then two years passed in a blink before you caught him fucking the doe eyed underclassmen from his fraternity the night of graduation. 

You wanted Yoongi but the last time you ran crying to him about Taehyung sat in the back of your mind. Since that day he’d taken a step back, missing your calls or dodging plans. Still your best friend but not present like before. Half your own fault because he warned you getting back with Taehyung was a bad idea but rather than listen, you told him to fuck off and mind his business. So he did and managed to get a girlfriend in the process.

But the universe has a weird way of shoving people together. Sipping from a bottle on the steps to the should-be-condemned house you rented with six other girls, eyes glassy and unfocused, you didn’t realize someone was calling your name until he sat down beside you. 

“I heard,” Yoongi says, snagging your drink and downing his own mouthful before going back for seconds.

Your lips bruise under your teeth, the pain barely managing to consume your focus away from the new wave of tears threatening to crop up. “That I’m an idiot?”

Cold hands find the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, pulling it back up in the places it's dropped before curling around your frame and wrangling you into the boney side of his. 

“That Taehyung is still an asshole.”

It's too familiar. Your hands tangled in the fabric of his shirt, his neck wet with your cries. Yoongi barely managed to get you upstairs and in bed without fuss, a plethora of pathetic cries none of your roommates are around to hear blurring your vision. 

“Where’s Tiffany?” You ask, fumbling into the mattress. You’ll ask him anything to get your mind of the hurt.

Yoongi fought to tuck you in, shoving you back into the pillows everytime you tried to get up and attempted to convince him to go to the bars where your classmates are currently celebrating. Where Taehyung is probably strung out across whoever will give him the time of day.

He lets you pull him into a hug when a new wave of sadness erupts. It’s the first time you get a good look at him in months despite the blur in your vision. Silver in the streetlights flooding through the slits of the blinds, the dark dye he used to appease his mom washing out at the fried tips of his hair. Any more to drink and you’d convince yourself this is all some cruel dream. A ghost of the past haunting you in misery. 

Yoongi might as well be. Nearly two years gone from the face of the Earth, only to be caught in short glimpses at parties or between class changes. Both of you spent the time reserved for each other with new people.

You missed him. 

He turns to leave too soon; already halfway to the door before you speak.

“Stay?” 

Even in your double vision you see the crack in Yoongi’s mask, the regret swelling to the surface. “She’s waiting back at my place.”

The summer comes with the suffocating muggy heat of your childhood home. Your parents fail to stifle their thrill Taehyung is out of the picture, more content to pretend he never existed in the first place. 

Everyday blurs together, a routine you’ve maintained since you can remember. Hot days by the pool in your parents backyard (without Yoongi hiding in the shade), dinner at the greasy restaurant by the river with friends (but not Yoongi), and packing your room one last time (which holds too many memories of Yoongi).

The news comes from your mom. 

She probes for information about the last time you heard from your neighbor turned friend turned stranger, complaining she misses having him around like when you were kids, asking what he’s been up to lately. It’s evident by your short response you haven’t heard yet.

He’s on the dilapidated swing set in his parents backyard when you find him. Shoulders slumped, toeing in the dirt, while he gazes beyond the treeline. 

Silently, you take a seat in the second swing, ignoring the way the wood creaks under your weight. Without a word he hands you his phone. The screen is bright with the last messages.

Tiffany: you just seem to have a lot going on…

Tiffany: i don’t know if I can handle all of it

You hand back the device. There's nothing to say. Cursing her till you’re blue in the face won’t make him feel better and neither will platitudes. Yoongi won’t believe anything contrary to what she said, at least not right now when he’s reeling from a blow to his most vulnerable parts.

So you sit in silence until the moon swells in the sky. He isn’t ready to talk about it when you both fumble down to his parents basement. Or when he hits the Rick and Morty bong Seokjin bought him for Secret Santa years ago. Definitely not when he tries to kiss you and you let him. And not when you end up in his lap, both naked and fighting to detach from what exists beyond the tattered upholstery of the couch. 

Yoongi finally speaks hours later, shoulder to shoulder in the comforting murky darkness of his room. You both still have the heated glow of bare skin sticking together where you touch but it turns clammy when he spills his guts.

He told her those three words after meeting her parents the week before. The first girl you’ve ever seen him be serious about. She said them back but Yoongi didn’t believe her. And the proof he was right sits immortalized in texts messages.

Each word cuts like a knife. Admitting his hurt, his vulnerabilities and weaknesses before shifting the focus to something safer like your break up from May and if Taehyung has tried anything.

He softens when your lips crest his shoulder. The lingering franticness fades with each peck as you move across his chest, then his throat, then his lips. Because you know Yoongi wants to talk about this once and never again. Needs to put it behind him before it becomes too real.

You leave for the city two weeks later and Yoongi follows after managing to snag a shitty IT job. He spends more time at your apartment than his own and when the girl you met through a roommate group moves out, Yoongi moves in.

Maybe it becomes too common of an occurrence. What was once reserved as an escape from the crushing weight of rejection, a way to find comfort in each other more than before, turned into a quick fix at the slightest annoyance. When you’re too pent up or Yoongi had a hard day. If you were feeling insecure after another failed date, or he simply wanted an easy lay with someone who knew how to get him off without the awkward pauses of learning.

Now, Yoongi bends you over the counter at three in the morning, lapping at your cunt like he didn’t have you sitting on his face before leaving for Namjoon's apartment to pre-game. The dig of the marble edge in your ribs is less alluring than the comfort of your bed; but what Yoongi wants he more often than not gets, so how do you refuse when he shuffles you into an Uber with hunger in his gaze and possessiveness in the grip on your thigh. 

“Yoongi,” you sigh. Reaching back, one of your hands anchors in the short tufts of his hair, pressing him firmer into the ache of your pussy. 

The tug of the cool counter top against your nipples works in his favor, leaving you desperate with a hitch in your throat each time you rock back into his waiting tongue. It dips into your opening, wedged between his fingers that dig into your walls just right after years of practice. Yoongi knows how to push all your buttons, he’s sewed half of them on. 

Your forehead meets the marble on the next swell of his tongue except this time is across your ass and punctuated with a bite you’ll feel next time you sit. A harsh clench around his fingers grants you sinful drag of his tongue across the hole only ever explored by him. 

“Fuc–Yoongi!” 

Sloppy kisses follow your spine until he’s at your ear with his cock resting against the meat of your ass. You're bent back at the waist once again so he can pluck at your nipples the way he likes, until you're shuddering away and pleading for mercy in a way meant to spur him further.

“Bet Namjoon wouldn’t do this,” Yoongi grunts with a tease of his cock inside, bare.

He’ll never let you forget the semester of freshman year you drooled for his friend's dick while Namjoon remained none the wiser. Every unconscious shut down sent Yoongi into a sadistic fit of laughter until you cut your losses and called it quits. 

You know why he’s bringing it up now. Namjoon looked good tonight. Newly single with a buzzcut that ruined most men’s allure. Maybe you contemplated re-igniting the old flame when he first showed up but now there's history and comradery that didn't exist in your younger days and it's too complicated just for the chance to satiate your curiosity. They’re all the same reasons you shouldn’t be fucking your best friend since grade school but none of it seems to have the same weight.

It didn’t matter what you decided because Yoongi saw enough temptation in your gaze to bring it up like he isn’t the one fucking you regularly.

Your pants fog across the marble. “Should we call and find out?” 

His palm stings into your ass, heating the skin on impact. The opportunity to neg him into another smack passes too quickly. You’re already at the mercy of Yoongi’s mouth on yours, the taste of whiskey, stale cigarettes, and your pussy less than appealing but his tongue is hot when he licks behind your teeth.

A hand takes up the work between your legs, rough and rushed as you trapeze down the hallway towards the bedroom. Yoongi thumbs at your clit with intent. You nearly collapse against the wall with buckled knees from the onslaught of too much stimulation.

Breaching the bedroom door proves too much a struggle. Yoongi bounces off the door jam from a rough grope against his zipper which leaves you flailing before catching in the corner of the mattress. His room is too damn small for the king bed he insisted on but it makes for a great backdrop to your fucking. Miles better than the more practical queen hidden in your room further down the hall.

You manage to push him off long enough to dig your knees into the sheets, crawling to the pillows with an arch you know he’ll rib you for later.

“Coming?” You ask over your shoulder, eyeing the flash of his boxers creeping through the opening of his zipper.

Flopping on your back, you splay across the over abundance of pillows like a queen while Yoongi works off his pants. His hair is a mess and a bruise the size of your mouth blooms high enough on his neck he’ll have to wear turtlenecks for the next two weeks. “Spread your legs.”

“Do you one better.” It's a goad in the most obvious sense. He likes to watch you huff, failing to get yourself off until he intervenes and gives exactly what you need. So you throw your legs wide, bent at the knees just to make it clearer in the faint light spilling from the window, and sink a hand down and play with the mess he caused. “Mmmm, Yoongi.” 

“Finger it for me,” he drawls.

Muscles melt at the first pass inside your already battered walls. Not as deft as his fingers but you won’t tell him that unprompted. Yoongi’s ego is big enough when it comes to your sex life, fueled by the knowledge he’s collected many of your firsts. But the way he palms over his underwear in mimic of your rhythm tempts you to break that rule.

“Come here.” 

Yoongi just smirks at the demand, pushing the mess of his pants off until he’s bare and the maroon head of his cock makes you drool.  “You come here.”

“I’m not playing naked chicken.” You growl. “Come fuck me before I get my vibrator.” 

Flipping on your front with your ass in the air, you drive a hard bargain Yoongi’s never been capable of saying no to. The bed dips behind you, knees between your own, shuffling them wider so he can stretch you until you’re pliant and aching.

His chest melts to your back, sticking uncomfortable but you don’t care because it feels good. Like he’s consuming you. “How bad do you want it?” Yoongi bites into your shoulder.

“Yoongi, fuck.” Your arms collapse under the first rush of his hips, spin dipping harshly to take every inch until he’s flat against your rear.

In a blink, you’re parallel to the mattress, pinned under his weight. It’s pathetic for so early in the game but Yoongi is the same man who gave you so many orgasms you’ve cried so it only stands to reason he crumbles your bravado like it's nothing. 

Sniffling in his hold, you turn to nose at his cheek over your shoulder. “Please, fuck me.” 

“Shit,” he spits with a harsh thrust. “You’re so fucking tight for me.” 

The next press of his hips leaves you heaving. Your hands scramble when he cants a bruising pace against your ass. Hard. All while every noise he tries to hide sings straight into your ear.

With immense effort, you wiggle onto your back. Yoongi meets you with a kiss, tongue to tongue while he works back inside where you both need him most.

The callous of his palm rakes against your throat, not squeezing, just a possessive firmness.

“H-harder,” you beg, nails leaving crescents in his shoulder.

Yoongi hitches your thigh over his; slowing so he can fuck you deeper, crushing every noise hiding in your gut out. 

Shocked from the sudden rush against your clit, your leg kicks out straight. It’ll leave you sore in the hips come morning but right now you don’t even register the discomfort. “Oh, oh, oh!” 

“Like that?” Somehow he manages to drag the head of his cock deeper from the praise.

“Just like that,” you pant into his mouth.

He leans back to watch your decay into desperation but stops when you tug him back by the sensitive roots of his hair. Cracking open your eyes, you find his brown ones inches away. Forehead to forehead while you both synthesize into a heap of flushed skin and need.

Fingers intertwined, Yoongi pins your hand on the pillow. Then he stares. Not at your face as you crest the first wave of an orgasm but your fingers curled between his. Like he’s never done it before, like he doesn’t know exactly how you two got in this position. 

“Oh my god, Yoongi.” 

You cum hard. Nearly managing to drive him out from the force to your insides. Every muscle twisting tighter and tighter until it breaks and when you pull his mouth back to yours all you can do is shake under his lips with cracked mewls.

Yoongi might be shaking too but he swells inside you with a groan, collapsing into your neck before your brain catches up to consider the idea.

Dodging an attempt at a final kiss, he favors his lips on your throat. Fleeting wet pecks that get you choking on air. Then your breasts where he takes up his abandoned work on your nipples, teeth flashing across the sensitive peaks until your shoulders cave and you're desperate for him again; grinding into the fingers he’s so readily supplies.

He’s fucked you like this before. When he has something to prove to the non-existent entity constantly creeping on his subconscious, when he feels he isn’t good enough in some intangible way. Asking him what's wrong won’t do anything. Yoongi will tell you when he’s ready; if he ever is. Years of friendship and the fear you’ll see a part of him capable of scaring you away still eats him alive. So you’ll give him whatever reassurance he needs this way and hope he understands.

Your second orgasm comes faster than the first. Trails of the previous pleasure pushing you swiftly along. Yoongi latches his lips around your clit and sucks until spots flash and your thighs nearly crush his head.

“Fuck, Yoongi. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You cry, threatening to fold in half under his fingers. “G-gonna cum again.”

Flares of lightning in your blood explode. Throat raw from wailing, Yoongi works you through until you dig your ankle into his ribs and kick him off.

The cold air in the room helps cool your feverish skin unlike the dark haired man flopping next to you. It’s quiet around two sets of gasping breaths and the rain tapping at the window.

Shoulder to shoulder, you calm in the drum of the overhead fan. Yoongi’s fingers tangling and untangling with your own confirms your suspicion. Whatever he needs to tell you bubbles below the surface, swirling until he finds the safest words to share his feelings. There's no point in guessing but it doesn’t stop you from spiraling through the possibilities.

The major suspects lack any clear indication. His date last weekend ended with mutual disinterest. Nothing concerning his job registers in your vague memory. Both your parents were fine the last time you visited months ago. Yoongi’s nephew is fine—

 “I told my mom you're my girlfriend.”

Well that's new. “Oh.”

“It was an accident but—”

“What’d she say?” You cut him off. 

Yoongi hesitates. Your voice doesn’t betray disdain or hope, only reluctant curiosity. If you set too many expectations he’ll clam up and avoid you for months like when he lost his virginity at a party freshman year. Yoongi shares on his terms and you listen.

“That it was about time I got my head out of my ass.”

You wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. Yoongi’s palm slick against your own betrays his nerves, the ghost of squeeze begs for some kind of reassurance he isn’t crazy. 

“Huh.” You exclaim to the ceiling. It’s not the worst idea. And its definitely not the first time you’ve entertained it.

He lets you go the second you tug on your connected hands, anticipating swift rejection that leaves you feeling sour. But you’re rolling into his chest, the now free hand protecting his sternum from the dig of your chin so you can stare him down until he finally blinks your way. You won’t let Yoongi wiggle away from this ten year overdue conversation.

“Is that what you want?”

The answer is clear in his eyes. Yoongi’s mouth rounds over the words to tell you, floundering silently because he’ll admit he isn’t good at things like this. But if it’s worth it to him then you need to hear him say it. 

Rising up, you sit bare in his lap while he works through his nerves. Finally, when your hand cups his cheek and his eyes sink closed, leaning into the warmth, he tells you.

“That’s what I want.”

Your nose wrinkles with a shy smile. “Kinda cliche.”

Yoongi snorts when you kiss him but melts the cold facade swiftly.

“Yeah well,” he huff. “So is losing your virginity to your prom date but let's not talk about that.” Yoongi may spit the words but his hands, gentle where they trace the curve of your sides, betray his euphoria.

“We can talk about that too if you want.” You whisper into his jaw, lips prickling from the shadow growing there. “Prom me probably would have let you fuck her.”

“Yeah?”

You choke on a laugh at the pleased shock on his face. “Yeah, but not after that black eye came in.”

“Cheap fucking shot.” He grumbles under his breath, but you’re already there kissing the words from his lips. Yoongi indulges, melting further into the bed when his tongue timidly slips along yours. After you dip away to press more languid pecks where his cheeks round, he speaks again.  “If I asked you out then what would you have said?”

“Well the only reason I said yes to whats-his-fuck was because someone else was too stubborn to ask me himself.” You hum in his ear. “Does that answer your question?” 

You're on your back in a flash, pinned under your boyfriend who smiles as you flounder and fail to push him off. 

“You need to be nicer to me,” he grunts when you knock out his arms and collapse his chest to yours.

“If you wanted someone nicer, then you had years to figure that out.”

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi @sliceofwoozi

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[scoutswritingcorner]

Hello! Thoroughly enjoying your writings!! Deeeelish!! You are fantastically talented and we are so lucky as a fandom to have you!

What if during the battle between Adam and Alastor the reader jumped in front of Alastor and took the hit instead. Up until this point Alastor couldn’t put his finger on his feelings for the reader but seeing them badly hurt, and protecting him clicks it all into place.

Thank you for entertaining the thought!!

Fight For Me

Alastor x GN!Reader

TW: Blood, Alastor being angry.

A/N: YOU ARE SO NICE IMMA CRY- IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT!

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this, you were supposed to be fighting the executioners with the others. You weren’t supposed to be up here with him and fighting this no good first man. As he collected you in his arms seeing the gash that ran from your stomach to your chest made his smile falter, he had already lost his microphone and now here he was about to permanently lose you. He couldn’t let that happen. Not yet. 

He ignored Adam as his shadows curled around the both of you and allowed him to quickly travel to his destroyed tower. Why would you protect him? He cursed himself as he ripped your shirt open, he was much more of gentleman than this but your fucking afterlife was on the line. Why did he care?  He snapped his fingers as his shadow slid a medical kit across the room, you were out cold so this could go easier, his shadow danced across the walls as he started to wipe as much blood as he could away. Tears stung at his eyes as his smile became tighter, threatening to pull at the hidden stitching. 

Throwing his jacket off to the side as it felt restricting, He could easily finish you off right now. Why does he care? As he carefully stitched the scar back up, he kept glancing up at your face, your heart beat was slowing down and it scared him. You better not fucking die on him, he couldn’t lose you not right now.  He’d tear Heaven down just to make sure you were safe and next to him, but why was he feeling this way? No one got him feeling..like this. He was scared. You are scaring him, get out of his head. Finishing up the last stitch he carefully draped his jacket over your body as he used his own legs as your pillow, he needed to keep your head propped up just in case.  PLEASE- Get up, you’re scaring him. You need to show him you're okay.

He doesn’t know how long he sat there but as soon as your eyes opened he felt a rush of relief wash over him, you were okay. His clawed hands cradled your face with a softness that was foreign to him as his lips pulled into a sneer, “What in the fuck were you thinking? Protecting me from a powerful blast such as that?!” He snarled, he didn’t mean to be so venomous but being scared was foreign to him. He didn’t like being vulnerable and yet he felt safe around you, he wanted to comfort and cradle you close after every day. You didn’t answer him just staring up into his ruby red eyes, “Answer me, damn it. Why? I could’ve taken the hit.” He continued as tears pricked and stung at his eyes. You were strong, yes, very strong. But he couldn’t lose you, he didn’t want to lose you. He hated this feeling. 

“Because..I’m in love with you, Al..” You whispered out and the truth set upon him like the sun's last ray of light. He was in love with you as well.  His sneer vanished as he leaned down closing his eyes as his forehead touched yours and he sobbed like he was a little boy who scraped his knee and ran home to his Mama. His clawed hands carefully caressing your cheeks trying to burn the feeling into his memory, “I love you..” the words fell out of his mouth as if he was back in the hospital watching his Mama slowly slip away. “I love you.”  He repeated this time with much more confidence but he was still apprehensive. 

“I love you, Alastor.” The words came out easy for you and he envied it but the way your gentle and soft hands cupped his made his undead heart skip a beat. But he didn’t need to be scared anymore, he had you with him. “Don’t pull that silly stunt again.”

A/N: THE AMOUNT OF TIMES I CRIED IS UNBELIEVABLE

[freakyformula]

Special celebration

Summary: Mercedes wins and Toto wants a special celebration.

A/N: This one is short, sorry

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, CNC, praise kink, size kink, creampie

Word count: 1k

You cry out as you feel Toto's thick cock enter your small cunt with force, feeling like you're about to split in two. Usually he'd be gentle and take his time, but not today... Today he was determined to ruin you.

But hey, let's rewind.

You were sat on your high chair at the Mercedes garage, guiding Lewis through the last couple of laps as his race engineer, tapping your pen on the table nervously.

Then feeling of Lewis crossing the finish line in P1 was indescribable.

"That was absolutely phenomenal, Lewis, great job!" You yell through the headphones.

You pull your headphones off as he drivers into the pit lane, running with the team to get a glimpse the winner.

As you're standing below the podium, listening to god save our gracious queen again with tears in your eyes, you feel Toto's, (you know it's his) hand on your hip, pulling you closer to his warmth.

"My office, 10 minutes. Special celebration." He leans down and whispers. You shudder at his words and nod approvingly, crossing your legs in order to avoid your wet patch growing in your panties from soaking through your tight jeans.

Special celebration was the phrase you and Toto used when either of you wanted to do consensual non concent, you had other phrases for other activities too. You found it effective and safe, knowing that Toto wouldn't do anything unless you gave him permission.

You walk up the stairs to his office, and take a few deep breaths, bracing yourself for what's to come.

As you walk up to his office, you knock. No answer. Another knock. You look around, confusion evident on your face. You pull on the door handle and the door slides open. Slowly, you walk into the room with light steps, looking around for signs of Toto.

Suddenly, a hand is wrapped around your mouth, leaving you at the mercy of the unknown person. You hear the man kicking the door shut and fidgeting with the lock. When you get a whiff of his cologne, you recognize it as Toto's, and you instantly relax in his grasp. You definitely felt safe with the man, having set boundaries early on in your relationship.

He picks you up with one arm and throws the pens and papers on his desk to the floor, placing you down instead. He quickly pulls his already unbuttoned shirt off and ties it around your wrists, leaving you at his mercy. He makes quick work of your jeans, pulling them down your slender legs, and accidentally rips your shirt open, having no time to unbutton it.

He moves his gaze and fingers down between your legs and feels your wetness through your panties. He lets out a low grunt at the feeling, knowing that he did this to you, he had this effect on you and your sopping pussy.

Then he turns you around, with your back to him leaving your ass exposed. He starts caressing your ass cheeks, parting them, taking a look at your asshole and pussy from this perspective. The feeling is ecstatic and you buck your hips in order to relieve the desperation you're feeling. You stop immediately when you feel a nasty slap on your left buttcheek.

"Stop that immediately." He growls in your ear, and slaps your right cheek to make it even.

You hear the clinging of his belt and you swear you could cum then and there.

"What are you doing to me?" You ask with a innocent face.

"I'm gonna fuck you now, hmmm? I need you to just take it."

As you feel his rock hard member between your lips, you shudder, knowing that you're gonna be in pain in a minute. He slides it up and down a couple of times, collecting your slick and teasingly pressing his tip into your small hole.

You cry out as you feel Toto's thick cock enter your small cunt with force, feeling like you're about to split in two. Usually he'd be gentle and take his time, but not today... Today he was determined to ruin you.

You cry out brokenly, sobbing in pain. Toto gives you no time to adjust to his size and starts pumping you without mercy.

"Toto... Hurts-" You manage to get out from your wide open gape.

"Are you gonna be a good girl and take my cock?" He asks, making sure you're okay with it at the same time.

"I'm going to be a good girl, Toto." You confirm. His pace is unforgiving and you can't help flinching away from him in pain. "Please Toto, stop, it hurts!" You try to make him stop.

He pulls out, taking you by surprise. Afraid that he'd taken your words literally, you look back at him. He looks back at you and tuts as he pulls your black lace panties down your legs. When his cock finds its way inside you again you let out an audible grunt. Toto stuffs your panties into your mouth, using it as a gag, as he's tired of hearing your pleads.

He's just here to take what's his, and he will get it. His pace quickens when he feels your pussy tightening, which only means that you're getting close to that sweet release.

"Cum for me, schatzi. Be a good girl for me." He pleads, out of breath.

His words push you over the edge and you feel Toto's hands around your neck and mouth, doing his best to silence you. Toto enjoyed the challenge of fucking in his office, knowing that his employees were walking by right outside. And honestly, you enjoyed it too, even if you never thought you would.

And just like that, his impending orgasm was triggered by your tightening walls around his pulsating cock and he filled your cunt up with his white cream. He pressed all of him inside of you, wanting his cum to reach as far inside as possible.

You collapsed on his desk together, tired from the days events. Toto let's out a sigh of content. "I hope I didn't hurt you?"

You giggle. "I won't be able to walk for days!"

"That's okay... I can carry you." He softly kisses your temple.