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#but it is. and its messy and pathetic its not a FIGHT even its just two kids in teenager's bodies hurting each other
infizero · 1 year
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i exaggerate QUITE A LOT on here but im dead serious when i say that every time i think about the fight between sunny and basil tears well up in my eyes INSTANTLY. literally one of the most heartbreaking stomach churning gut wrenching moments ive ever experienced in media ITS THE SADDEST FUCKING THING EVER AND IT HURTS EVEN MORE WHEN I TRY TO VISUALIZE IT IN REAL SPACE INSTEAD OF A GAME MENU ITS SO DEVASTATING
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coeurify · 8 months
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Ellabs fucking you dirtyyy with breeding straps…
Like strap sucking is so underrated to begin with but strap sucking + a breeding strap facial??? A need. Like breeding straps aren’t limited to cuming inside the reader just imagine kneeling for Ellie and Abby and hearing them coo at you encouragingly while you suck them off. Or Ellie behind you talking about how deep she’s gonna breed you while Abby shoves her strap down your throat. OR Ellie holding you open for Abby as her strap feels so deep you’re sure she’s actually in your guts. Just need reader to be left a completely limp fucked out mess covered is ellabs cum😊
omg !!!!! 18 +
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“In—” you beg, your lip quivering, your shaking hands grasping at Abby’s moving hips, fingers hooking in the tight, black harness that hug her waist, keeping her strap snug against her— the strap that drilled into your soaked cunt, clenching around every punishing thrust.
“In what baby?” Ellie’s voice cooed, soft lips pressed against your temple, ogling the filthy sight in front of her as she lounged, her own strap laying heavily between her relaxed thighs.
“W’nt abs to cum inside me-” you continue, your toes curling with Abby’s thrusts quickened at your words, your sweaty face tipping back, taken over by a moan.
“Switch.” Abby’s voice came out muffled, gritted by the pearly white teeth she clenched as she shoved you off of her strap, another loud hiss falling from Ellie’s lips at the sight of the shiny slick that covered the base, a squeal sounding from your own mouth. “No-” you beg pathetically at the empty feeling, not even attempting to fight as two sets of large hands grasp your hips, maneuvering you around like their own personal ragdoll.
“Want her mouth,” someone— you can barely tell in your fucked out state— demands as your face is shoved down against the sheets, your cheek hitting the soft material with a small whimper, a harsh grip pulling your hips up, shoving them back against someone’s pelvis.
“My turn with this pretty pussy, huh? Gonna let me fill you up baby? Gonna let me watch it spill out?” Ellie questions, your floating brain finally finding its way back to your skull as you nod quickly, pulling a chuckle from the green eyed girl. Hands that are too big to be Ellie’s lift you up on your elbows, nearly hanging off the edge of the bed as Abby grips your cheeks, standing at the edge of the bed as she forces your fluttering eyes to focus on her. “Open your mouth.”
You waste no time, your mouth falling open at the very moment Ellie’s fingers part your sticky folds, the tip of her strap teasing the clenching hole.
Your moan is swallowed by the wet silicone that invaded your mouth, gaping your lips as Abby groans like it’s her own cock sitting pretty against your tongue.
“There you go princess.” Abby grunts, the delicious friction of the harness against her clit has her head tilting back, your own slight gag against the strap adding to the shock of pleasure that rolls through her body. Your hips grind back, slipping the first inch of Ellie into you.
“Fuckk, look how she’s swallowing me,” Ellie marvels to the blonde, who cranes her neck to watch as Ellie slams you completely back on her cock, your moan muffled by Abby’s own strap, a small gag causing drool to pool in your mouth, dripping from the corners of your lips.
“Give it to her, Els,” Abby demands, the slow, calculated thrusts that Ellie gives you not up to the blonde’s standards. Ellie, always quick to listen, adjusts her position, blunt nails digging into the fatty flesh of your hips as she pistons harder into you. If you could wail out at the feeling— at how it hit that perfect spot in you, you would. But all that comes is a gargled noise, more spit dripping down your chin, collecting on the messy sheets beneath you.
“Shit,” Ellie husked, trying to keep her own moans from the rubbing against her clit quiet— too keen on hearing the squelched noises that come from beneath her, the creamy ring of your wetness on the purple silicone enchanting her glazed over eyes, bottom lip sucked between her lips.
“Such— a fuckin—perfect— mouth—” Abby bites, each word followed by a thrust. Her hand gripping the nape of your neck, reveling in the tears that pooled in the corner of your pretty eyes, your eyelashes fluttering, catching the droplets of water as you tried your best to be good for your girls, gripping the sheet under your fists.
“ ‘M close Abby,” Ellie warned, her thrusts un-uniformed and messy, searching more pressure against the throbbing clit under her harness.
“Me too,” Abby huffed, her cheeks flushed so red that if your mouth wasn’t full, you probably would’ve made a bratty comment about it. Instead you do your best to relax your jaw, welcoming Abby’s cock even deeper in, a bitten off groan following.
Sometimes you swore these girl’s could really feel the way you wrapped around them.
“Gonna fill you up,” Ellie babbled, her trembling hand moving down to grip the base of her strap, eyes catching on Abby, waiting for the right moment. “You gonna let us fuck our babies into you, hm?” Ellie continued, always the noisier one. Her words are slurred, spurred on by how her stomach clenches with each plunge into you, nearing her own climax as your thighs shake with the impending feeling of your own enclosing in on your blotchy vision.
“Fuck—Now,” Abby rasps, her own words sounding slightly more whiny, her hand grasping to push you closer against her, hips grinding into the pressure of her harness, free wrist moving to grip her own strap.
Your gargled, choked out moan sounds as you cum around Ellie’s strap, your back arching as much as it can, knees giving out— but Ellie is quick to wrap an arm around your waist— holding you up as both girl’s squeeze their straps.
The breeding liquid floods every damn sense you can imagine, eyes rolling back as the warmth fills your used pussy, Ellie groaning as she cums at the very same time, the back of her strap harness wet with her own finish, thrusts slowing as she swears under her breath, pulling out with little warning.
Abby takes a few more shallow thrusts, hissing at the little choked coughs you make around her. When she finally does finish, she shivers, holding your head flush against her as she rides out the orgasm. The minute she pulls out, a messy string of spit mixed with the thick breeding strsp cream connects the silicone to your lips. Your elbows shake, falling against the bed with your fucked our body, your front half finding the comfort of the bed beneath you as you cough, your wet face sticking to the sheets.
“Come look at this mess,” Ellie’s voice wavers, arm still keeping your back half up, admiring how your cunt pulses, globs of creamy liquid dripping over and out your folds.
“Fuck angel,” Abby croons, following Ellie’s voice to eye the sight.
“You were fuckin’ made to be bred.”
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b1mbodoll · 1 month
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I’m gonna cry plsssss more werewolf jake pls i need him so bad 😫
pairings: sim jaeyun x f! reader
warnings: werewolf! jake + predator / prey + knotting + spit / drool + anal + fingering + pussyjob ?? + biting
💌: you guys can blame lulu for the predator + prey / chase bit because she made me insane 🩷
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werewolf! jake lives for the chase. he loves to hunt down his little human girlfriend in the woods, letting you get a headstart before running after you and using his canine instincts to track you down. his ears twitch at the sound of twigs snapping, inhaling deeply in the hopes of catching your scent and when he does, his tail wags behind him as he makes his way in your direction.
the fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins keep you going, pushing deeper and deeper into the maze of trees, panting heavily as exhaustion creeps up on you, much like, unbeknownst to you, jaeyun was as well.
he makes sure to keep quiet as he sneaks up on you, circling you like the apex predator he is. it’s quiet and you think you still have a fighting chance, until jake finally pounces, forcing you to submit. he uses his inhuman strength to pin you down, face down ass up before shredding your clothes. you do your best to look back at him and the sight almost scares you, he’s grinning wickedly and nearly salivating as he has his way with you.
you lay there, pliant and submissive while jake continues to feel you up, pawing at your tits with one hand as the other slides between your legs, your cunt dripping with arousal and it takes everything in you not to moan when the rough pads of his fingers circle your clit.
“you’re all mine,” jake starts, eyeing your holes. “i caught you. i can do whatever i want to you, right, pup?” although it’s a question, you know that no matter what you say to him he’ll use you however he pleases.
nonetheless you nod your head as best you can, grimacing at the feeling of the dirt beneath you. the werewolf smirks at your confirmation. “attagirl.”
his thick fingers slip inside of your messy cunt and you gasp at the intrusion, walls clamping around him as they fill you up and stretch you out. your juices coat the digits and he pulls them out only to rub the tight rim of your asshole, pushing his middle finger inside and groaning, making sure to lubricate your hole with your own slick.
although he’s impatient, jakey isn’t completely cruel. he knows his cock is big, maybe even too big for you, so he finishes teasing your hole and mounts you, gliding his length between your pussy to collect more of your arousal.
it’s thick and wet between your folds, precum dribbling steadily from his tip and you reach for it, using your hand to completely drench his dick and minimize the discomfort of what’s about to happen.
“that’s a good pup — fuck — keep strokin’ my cock, just like that.” your hand falters at the praise, mind foggy as fatigue takes its toll on your body. “unless you want it to hurt, i don’t mind.” he sneers.
you can’t bring yourself to continue and jake takes that as your answer, pulling back to spit on your hole before lining his tip with your entrance. he places a palm on your asscheek, groping and pulling to watch the way your empty hole begs for him.
“gentle, jakey.”
he rolls his eyes. “yeah right.”
he forces his cock into your asshole, pushing deeper until you squeal and squirm. he’s only halfway in and you’re already crying? pathetic, he thinks. despite your struggling, he continues to fuck into you and you’re afraid he’ll break you from the girth. will you even be able to take his knot?
it seems you’re the only one worried; jake leans forward and presses his chest to your back, grunting and groaning in your ear as he thrusts into you at a rough pace. tears gather in your lashline, whimpering as he continues to stretch your hole more than you thought possible, driving his cock deep inside.
he nearly howls when you clench around him, his furry tail thumping on the ground and he begs you to do it again, his cock twitching when you obey.
jake’s orgasm hits him hard, dropping his head and resting it on your shoulder, his knot inflating and rope after rope of warm, sticky cum splashes within you, clinging to your walls. there’s so much of his seed in your ass with nowhere to go, the swollen bulge keeping the two of you locked together.
your wolfboy’s climax was intense and it leaves him drooling, his mouth falls open and his sharp canines are too close to your soft skin, making you squeeze him once again from the fear of them sinking into you.
the vice grip you have on him makes jake almost.. feral and he grounds himself by biting you, teeth tearing into your nape and he growls when you wince, only closing his eyes to wait out his knot after you relax and allow him to keep his canines within you.
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auspicioustidings · 9 months
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TF141 who are your worst nightmare/wildest daydream on your holiday in the nice all inclusive that you've went to alone because your partner cheated on you and you couldn't get a refund.
Price who keeps being in the tiny elevator with you in the morning. You never get to press buttons, he always does it for you. Cages you into a corner with his big body whenever it gets crowded without saying a word, just giving you an indulgent smile like he's amused by how much looking after you need. Always has a hand in the small of your back when you get out.
Ghost is always on the lounger next to you. When you try to move into the stronger sunshine as soon as your back is turned your stuff has moved right back next to where he's sitting. You've never caught him moving it and you cannot work up the courage to accuse him without proof. He applies suncream to you every 2 hours without fail, not even warning you before hands are massaging it in to your back.
Soap and Gaz absolutely catch you anytime you are using the hot tub. Doesn't matter how quiet a time of day it is, as soon as you relax two big bodies are bullying their way in next to you, bantering away with one another like you're not even there. They'll inevitably play fight at some point, but with you in the middle hands keep landing on your bare thigh.
At least you never eat dinner alone, one of them always just grabs your plate and puts it at their table.
God help you if you indulge a little too much in the free bar because they're only going to encourage you and let you get messy drunk and rant about your ex and how this was supposed to be romantic and how you were really looking forward to this big castle visit with a fancy dinner you had planned but its too pathetic to go alone.
They take you the next day <3
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vampsickle · 4 months
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Jason Todd and dom!reader pweeeeasee! Maybe he's just a pathetic whiny mess, and you wanna comfort him!
hello my sweet anon! thank you for your patience my love. i hope this is good for you!
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Jason Todd writhes underneath you, you’ve ripped so many orgasms out of him, but he’s still so painfully erect. His cock is swollen and red, precum leaking in copious amounts, and he desperately fights back tears. It hurts so good, his eyes rolling back every time you touch him. He’s never trembled so violently before, his breath hot, escaping his mouth in puffs.
The pit of Lazarus had its side effects, and who knew that a high libido would’ve been one of them. But he’s still so sensitive, you’re probably the third person he’s slept with, and now it’s so consistent.
“Fuck— Fuck, wait, I can’t—“ and you hum lightly as his pathetic attempts to speak, his words come out as desperate pleas and whines, hips bucking upwards, his eyes shut tightly. Your hand wraps around his dick, and that makes him jump somewhat, spurts of cum spilling out. Even when he’s like this, he’s mindlessly begging you for more, more, more. Who knew he’d be so desperate.
“I want you to look at me when I put it inside me, Jason.” you speak lowly, lining up the tip with your entrance, allowing it to get caught there. He swallows thickly, jaw tensing, teeth clenched so tightly that he fears he may crack one. But he musters out a weak uh-huh …
Your pace is torturously slow, he takes quick breaths in anticipation, and you press your palm onto his flushed chest, softly telling him to breathe. As you say that, you sit all the way down on him, cockhead brushing against your womb, and he cries out. You haven’t even moved and he already came again.
“Oh… I’ve barely even done anything, Jason. Is it too much for you? Should I stop?” you coo, rolling your hips, and his head is thrown back and he groans wantonly, and when he exhales it comes out as a drawn out whimper. “No— No, fuck, ‘s not too much. Please, keep going, please—“ and his hands fly to your hips when you begin to bounce on him, head cocks to the side, falling against the plush pillows you made sure to place comfortably underneath him.
He’s fucking drooling. You lean over to kiss him, and he’s eager to kiss you back, messy yet slow, open mouthed and slightly impatient. You tell him he’s a good boy. You praise him, your own noises only bring him closer to his release, and he tries to meet your hips when you meet his pelvis.
“Oh— Fuck—! ‘M gonna fucking cum— Again-” and he squeezes you tightly enough that it almost makes you squeal, nails digging into your soft flesh, nearly drawing blood, and somehow he cums inside you, more than the other times. You feel full, but you still move slowly, riding out his orgasm as he cries weakly.
“Good boy. You came so much.. Did it feel that good?” his eyes are half lidded, hands slowly falling back down on his sides, and he simply nods. That’s all the answer you need. It almost makes you laugh, how cute and fucked out he looks, but you lean down and press a gentle kiss to the corner of his eye.
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wraithlafitte · 5 months
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crazy on you
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pairing: soulless! sam x reader
CONTENT: smut RIGHT under the cut, porn what plot, dom/sub dynamic, s&m, unprotected p in v, usage of sir, bondage, marking, slapping/spanking, riding, dacryphilia, overstim, multiple organisms for both, light possessiveness, choking, pain kink? ig goes with s&m
word count: 2.9k
a/n: prompts used by @loveisanimaginarydagger3000 "Phrases/Actions that have my legs divorcing" @smaoineamhsalach "smutty dialogue prompts" @creativepromptsforwriting "smutty one-liners". all can be found in my master prompt list, linked in main masterlist. dividers by @cafekitsune
nothin' left to do at night / but go crazy on you
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The door to the hotel room you were staying in slammed, making you fly bolt upright in bed. You relaxed when you saw that it was only Sam, the guy you had been hanging out with (and fucking) all week. His broad shoulders stretched beneath his worn flannel as he unloaded his pockets onto the side table, followed by a pistol from his waistband.
You didn't really know what it was that Sam did all day, sometimes night, or for a living. You had some inkling that it was violent, seeing as how he often came back bloodied (not always his own). But damn, gangster or not, he was good in bed, so you didn't ask questions.
Tonight he looked okay. The only flaws on his face were bruises from the week past, nothing fresh. His warm brown hair was messy, sure, and when he turned around, you saw that his t-shirt was dark with something that was probably blood, but if he had been fighting, the other guy lost.
"Hey," you called softly, voice thick with sleep. His head snapped towards you like he had forgotten you were there. "Welcome back. Kind of late."
Sam walked toward you slowly like a predator stalking its prey. His eyes glinted in the darkness. "It's only two."
Your heartbeat quickened, knowing what came next. This was the routine: Sam left for hours, came back beat up, then fucked you into tomorrow. You weren't sure when the man slept. You had resigned yourself to taking short naps while he was away.
"You're not how I left you," Sam observed.
Shit. He had told you to stay naked after your escapades last night and to be in bed when he came back. You had only fulfilled half of his requirements.
"I-I had to leave to get food," you offered lamely, knowing full well he had left you a credit card to get room service.
"Right," he said slowly, creeping closer. Butterflies fluttered through your stomach and down to your core.
"I'm sorry," you said, crawling backwards against the headboard. Sam tilted his head. "Sir," you added quickly.
The corners of Sam's mouth quirked up momentarily. "Strip."
"You first," you retorted, a rush of confidence emboldening you.
"Behave, I wouldn't want to punish you now." He looked at you warningly and finally touched down on the edge of the mattress.
You gulped and nodded, making quick work of your pajamas. You hadn't bothered to wear any underwear. "Make it even," you told him, shivering in the air-conditioned room.
Sam's head tilted in the other direction, almost like a dog. "Who do you think is in charge here?" he asked, voice dangerously calm.
You took a deep breath and shakily said, "I just wanna see you."
He chuckled, shaking his head, and peeled off his flannel, followed by the t-shirt that was damp with blood and sweat. "Better?" Sam asked, but the way he said it was almost mocking, like you were pathetic for asking.
His large hands gripped your knees where they were bunched up at your chest and spread your legs apart. He looked down at your pussy hungrily and ran a finger through your dampening folds. Your eyes closed at the sensation and you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth. After a week of being pounded into the mattress for hours at a time, you were more sensitive than you'd ever been in your life.
You felt him grip your wrists and shove them above your head. You opened your eyes to see him grab a blue tie that had been on the nightstand for days and use it to secure your wrists to the headboard.
You whined and pulled against your restraints. Sam just laughed triumphantly and got up from his seat on the edge of the bed.
"Not fair," you complained as he took the opportunity to remove the rest of his clothes. He disappeared into the adjoining bathroom for a minute, you heard water running, and then he was back, sans blood. He approached the bed slowly, lustfully. The look in his eyes was animalistic, and you had been around him enough to know that it pretty much was. You closed your legs instinctively, drawing back into yourself.
Sam kneeled over you and spread your legs again, more roughly this time. "Do I have to tie your legs down too?"
"No sir," you squeaked.
He grabbed your face and hummed, turning it side to side, fingers digging into your skin. You shivered at his touch, somehow giving you so much and so little at the same time. His head swooped down and he began kissing you aggressively, tongue invading your mouth. The taste of him had become so familiar, you relaxed in his hold.
Then Sam released you with a pop and started biting at the skin on your neck and chest, following the marks he had mapped out days before, darkening them. You arched your back into him, straining at your bonds.
"Sam," you moaned shamelessly.
He took your nipple into his mouth, rolling it gently between his teeth. You gasped and pitched your hips up into him. His hand came down to your stomach, holding you down firmly.
Sam took his mouth off your breast and blew cold air over the spit he left behind. "Come on baby, if you want something, use your words."
You shivered intensely. "Just fuck me already," you whined.
He delivered a sharp slap to the outside of your thigh. You jumped. "Language."
"Sorry, sir," you breathed. "Please."
Sam smirked approvingly, moving up to sit against the headboard beside you. He lifted you up and turned you around so that you were straddling him, twisting your bonds so your arms were around his neck. He dragged his wet mouth up your sternum, breath hot against your skin.
You ground against his hard cock with lips pursed, staring him in the eye, daring him to do something about it. Sam didn't care much about making you use your words in that moment, and lined his cock up with your entrance.
You sunk down gladly, feeling yourself stretch around his length. He swallowed a groan, gritting his teeth and giving you that look again. He was restraining himself. For the time being, you were thankful, because you definitely needed to cum at least once before letting him loose on your body.
Sam's hands fell on your hips, urging you to lift up and start moving. You started bouncing on his cock, hips slamming together, his tip hitting the deepest part of your pussy and still not fitting all the way. Your thighs started to burn and shake and you put more of your weight on your arms, using your bonds to pull yourself up. But you couldn't keep it up and started slowing down, whimpering.
The pain seared up your legs into your dripping core. You could come just like this, you thought. Just clenching around him, staying still. Pain sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You closed your eyes and focused on the knot forming in your stomach, willing it to come undone.
But of course, Sam wouldn't let you. He slapped your ass, bringing you back down to earth. "Come on," he growled. You protested, opening your eyes. "You have to work for it."
"Help me," you whispered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you dragged yourself up and fell again.
"No," he said bluntly. He was smiling coldly, actually enjoying your suffering.
You let out something like a broken sob and began riding him again, slower than before as the muscles in your legs cried out for reprieve. Sam kept his hands on your hips, guiding you as minimally as possible, still making you do most of the work.
"Good," he growled. "Keep going."
He bit kisses into your jaw as you rode him, grinding your clit against his hips, head thrown back. Your breasts bounced as you heaved yourself up and down in a broken rhythm, feeling his cock drag through you unpredictably as your hips stuttered.
After minutes of slow building, the knot inside you suddenly snapped, and you were cumming around his cock before you knew what was happening. "Ah- fuck, fuck," you moaned. You couldn't find the strength to keep fucking yourself with him anymore and dropped.
"Fuck, baby," he groaned as you came fully seated on him, feeling the deepest parts of your walls gripping him like a vice.
You collapsed against his chest, exhausted, your arms suspended above you limply. You felt him tugging at your restraints and they came free, allowing your arms to drop to your sides. Then, he lifted you off his dick and let you fall to the mattress on your back.
Sam was back inside you almost instantly, allowing you little time to recover before he was pumping into you roughly. He propped up your legs, allowing them to fall open on either side of his hips as he fucked you into the mattress.
You could hardly catch your breath with the way he was on you, kissing and biting your lips and jaw. Another orgasm started building inside you, faster than you would've liked. Sam sure knew how to draw them out of you, thrusting at a pace that built the most friction and hit your g-spot with just the right amount of pressure to have you squirming beneath him in seconds. He had learned your body well over the past several days.
You came again with a cry, pleasure washing over you blindingly fast, but Sam showed no signs of stopping, instead doubling down. Tears streamed down your face as he pressed your wrists into the pillow by your head, a feral expression covering his face as he drilled into you.
"Yeah, keep fuckin' comin' for me baby," he growled. A whimper fell from your lips. He didn't even seem close. You had no idea how he had this kind of stamina, especially since you weren't sure if he slept.
Suddenly he released one of your wrists to reach down to the place you were connected, rubbing your clit vigorously. You moaned desperately, hand flying to his shoulder and clawing at his back. He threw his head back and moaned himself, pace faltering.
"Yeah? You like it when I do that, huh," he gritted out. Your nails dug into his shoulder, breaking skin as you came around his cock for the third time.
"Sam!" You practically screamed his name, restrained hand flexing into the air, desperate for something to grasp. Sam grunted and kept thrusting into you, fucking you through your high, and then you felt his warmth seep into you as he followed.
He pulled out and sat back on his knees, continuing to rub your clit as your hands grabbed the pillow behind your head in an effort to lighten the overwhelming sensation.
"Oh god Sam, fuck- stop, please, sir," you blabbered. You opened your eyes to see him stroking his cock to you in the same rhythm as he rubbed your clit; slow at first, but picking up speed in response to your moaning and writhing.
Sam smiled unfeelingly, showing no mercy. "Can't you handle it, baby?" he asked wickedly.
Your hips bucked of their own accord. "Yes, I can- fuck, I can handle it," you whined, eyes wide and shiny, staring desperately at him.
The look on his face alone was enough to send you careening over the edge again, thrashing in his grip as you chased more. More sensation, more of his touch, just more of him. You could feel your mascara melting down your face as involuntary tears flooded out.
You felt him spread your folds with two fingers, smearing your wetness around your pussy and thighs. You jolted as his fingers skated over your clit. "So fucking pretty," he growled. "If only you could see how your pretty pussy is leaking my cum. All pink and puffed up just for me."
Your breath came out in little moans as you struggled to think of a response. "Water," came your voice, barely recognizable to yourself. You tried to sit up and find the glass you'd set by the bed.
Sam grabbed you by the throat and threw you back down. "We're not done yet."
You whimpered, looking up at him to find that same cruel glimmer in his eyes. You felt another pang of arousal rush your body. The way he controlled you was toxic, you knew, but it also turned you on insanely to be thrown around and used like a limp rag doll.
Sam's smile was strangely devoid of emotion as he looked you over, his gaze ending on your face. He wiped your wet cheek with his palm. "Don't cry, sweetheart. I'll give you what you need."
His words were sweet but his expression was deadly. You suddenly found yourself wondering what would happen to you once Sam left. Would he just leave you behind, imprisoned by his memory?
Perhaps it would be your blood staining his shirt one day.
Better to seize the moment while it's still here. You laced your fingers up Sam's neck, grabbing him by the hair, and pulled him down roughly to meet your lips in a messy kiss. He growled into your mouth and gripped your waist tightly. His body weight crushed down on you as he slowly thrust his half-hard cock back inside you. You gasped, the walls of your pussy fluttering at the sensation.
Sam hissed, nose and lips pressed into your neck. His long hair brushed against your cheek. You hooked your legs around him, wanting him closer than was humanly possible.
"Come on, Sammy, fu-uuck," you breathed, nipping his ear.
He jolted up, eyes narrowing on you. His hand was instantly back on your throat, and your own flew up to meet it.
"Don't call me that," he said sharply. His hand tightened below your jawline. You grasped weakly at his fingers. You were becoming lightheaded, but his bruising grip was all you wanted.
Your lips tried to form the words I'm sorry, but no sound would come out. Sam started driving into you, holding you where he wanted you by your neck. With each thrust, the pressure on your neck increased, then decreased. Increased, decreased. You gasped in air on the upstrokes and let yourself become dizzy on the down strokes.
Fire blazed in your core, and you weren't sure if you were cumming again or if you just never stopped. Sam hit deep inside you every time, and soon the pleasure was constant and the pain was fading away. Or maybe it was the opposite. You couldn't tell anymore. You could hardly think anymore, Sam the only thing on your mind.
His hand wrapped around your neck. The weight of him on top of you. The feeling of his cock splitting you open for... was it the fifth time tonight?
"Sam," you rasped, eyes rolling back. The hand squeezing your neck loosened for a moment.
"What?" Sam almost looked angry. He always looked angry, seeming like he had some pent-up rage about something to get out.
"Hurt me," you begged. "Do whatever you want, don't stop- ah!"
Sam squeezed your neck once harshly and let go, hand flying to your thigh, scooping your leg up and pressing it forward, calf resting on his shoulder. He slapped your ass sharply, followed by a slap to your face. You cried out in surprise.
"Such a fucking slut," he grunted, pounding into you harder than you thought possible, his tip bruising your cervix, causing a pleasant ache to rise in you. You couldn't even hope to respond, breath coming out in short pants and gasps.
Pain lit your core on fire, mirroring the blaze in Sam's eyes. You came faintly, feeling exhaustion set in and becoming aware of the layer of sweat that covered your body, dripping onto the sheets.
Sam's skin shone with sweat too, but he glowed. You could only lie there and take it, imagining how worn you looked compared to the god of a man above you.
"Good fuckin' girrrll," he said, sounding strained. His brow knitted together, eyes closed, as his rhythm began to falter once more.
"Give- give it to me," you stuttered, struggling to catch your breath. "Fuck, sir- please!"
Sam's arms scooped underneath you, holding you tightly against his body as he buried his cock deep inside you. His voice cracked as he groaned deeply, pressing into you as far as he could as he released inside you again, shuddering.
It was still for a moment. Sam held you caged in between his big arms, breathing heavily, your hips closely attached. Then he raised his head from where it had dropped into the crook of your neck and fell on your lips, kissing you roughly, letting out the last of his energy for now. You kissed him back with fervor, one hand still tangled in his hair, the other embedded in his bicep.
Sam pulled out, releasing your mouth with one last wet suck, and rolled to your side, pulling you with him to hold you tightly. You traced your fingers dazedly up and down his torso, blinking heavily as exhaustion threatened to take over.
Strangely, Sam didn't seem tired. At least, he didn't seem like he was going to fall asleep, like most men would after going that many rounds. He stared at the ceiling, thinking about something you would never learn. But you had come to expect this from him. He would hold you selfishly until morning, and then he would be gone again, leaving you weak and horny and unsure if he would return in one piece.
You supposed if he didn't sleep, there wouldn't be much else to do at night. You were sure this wouldn't last, he would move on and find another girl to pass the time inflicted by his insomnia. When he left, you would remember how he had made you feel, picturing his face with every other partner, always hoping he would come back and rock your world just once more.
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dyns33 · 1 month
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Symbiosis
I missed Eddie x reader with silly Venom being in the way. Can't wait to see what they'll do in the next movie.
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From the beginning of their relationship, Y/N had noticed that there was something different with Eddie.
She might have thought that it was because he was somewhat famous that he behaved eccentrically, sometimes talking to himself and seeming very agitated for no reason.
Without ever really bringing up these oddities, Eddie had been very honest with her about a lot of things. His childhood, his dreams, his ex-girlfriend, the loss of his job before becoming a journalism star again, his little problems with cleanliness.
"I mean, I'm a very clean person… Normally. All the time ! I wash twice a day, I take care of my teeth, I don't like living in filth but... Sometimes I'm not at home for a long time, and I'm totally focused on my job, and the stress… So, if I can seem a little dirty and messy, I'm sorry, I will never ask you to clean up for me and you can tell me that I stink by patting me on the back of the head. Yes, on the back of the head, I deserve it." Eddie muttered at the end of his sentence, looking to the side as if he were talking to someone else.
"I don't think you're dirty. You sweat a little sometimes, but that's natural."
“You’re saying that because you haven’t seen my apartment yet.”
“Does that mean you want to invite me to your apartment ?” Y/N asked, smiling shyly.
"Of course ! No, you don't… Of course, Y/N, I've been wanting to for a long time."
The presence of chickens was a little surprising, and it was true that the apartment was not in very good condition, but it was a bit like her idea of a bachelor pad, and it was quite reassuring to think that Eddie didn't often bring women home.
It meant something important to him, a sign of trust.
But that certainly wasn't the greatest evidence. No, this evidence took a little longer to emerge from the shadows, or from Eddie's shoulder, after a month of relationship.
Precisely the day he couldn't hold back the first "I love you."
The spontaneous, charming statement came in the middle of the small talk, and Y/N felt very happy, ready to respond that she loved him too.
It was then that the thing appeared between them, looking furious, showing its large teeth.
"No ! Eddie, no, you can't do that !"
“Oh, God, what is that ?!”
"Vee ! Vee, you promised me, man ! You're going to scare her ! And you have no right to interfere in my love affairs, go back inside ! Y/N, sorry, I'm really sorry, I’ll explain !”
“I have the right to give my opinion !” the creature replied, turning to Eddie. "You're ashamed of me, of us ! Anne accepted us ! Anne likes us ! If your new little darling doesn't accept us, then she's not good enough !"
“Anne didn’t really have a choice and we weren’t together anymore, stop talking about her all the time !”
After more or less managing to calm down the "non-parasite" that lived inside him, Eddie did his best to calm down Y/N, who was totally freaked out by what had just happened. He explained to her that Venom was an alien, a symbiote, who needed him to survive, who had helped him on numerous occasions, and who was not dangerous.
"I'm very dangerous ! I'm the lethal protector !"
"What does he mean ?"
"Nothing ! Well, he likes to fight crime, he's dangerous to the bad guys. You have absolutely nothing to fear, I promise. I… I'm so sorry."
Eddie then began to sob, despite all the comfort that Vee tried to give him by telling him that only losers cried like children and that he was pathetic to moan like that, putting them to serious shame.
Even though she was still scared, Y/N couldn't help but hug her boyfriend, trying her best not to touch the alien. She repeated to him that everything was fine, that it wasn't his fault, and that even though this situation was strange, she still wanted to be with him.
This seemed to reassure him, and make him very happy.
Unfortunately, there were three of them in this relationship, and Venom clearly didn't want to be with Y/N at all.
It was him that Eddie had been mumbling to since they met, often arguing about her, as the alien kept comparing her to Anne, his ex girlfriend.
Without any sign of lying in his eyes, he promised her that he hadn't been in love with her for a long time. Their breakup had been difficult, but she had found someone very quickly, Dan, a great guy, and they were married now, and Eddie was very happy for them.
Well, that wasn't easy to believe with Venom growling and hitting his host's head at the end of every sentence, insulting Dan and repeating how great Anne was.
But Eddie seemed really honest. He was friends with his ex, nothing more, and he wanted to be with Y/N now, even if his idiot parasite didn't agree.
He wasn't an optimist by nature, too much had happened to him in life for him to believe in miracles, but Eddie wanted to believe that Vee would come to appreciate her.
He was quite confident as Y/N was doing her best with the symbiote, trying to talk to him, offering him chocolate, keeping an open mind. Many people would have fled the moment they saw this thing coming out of his body. It was quite a good sign.
But like a wild animal, Venom refused to be coaxed. He wanted Anne, Anne was perfect. Nothing would change his mind. Nothing.
"He hates me." Y/N whispered sadly, even though she knew it was useless, because Venom was always with Eddie, even when she couldn't see him. None of their conversation was private.
"Hate is a strong word… He's stubborn, he believes he's right. It's not really against you. If I had always been single, I think he would adore you."
Eddie thought it would be a good idea to introduce her to Anne. In a sense he was right, because it was evident that there was no longer any romantic feeling between them, and that she was very much in love with her husband.
But Y/N couldn't help but do like Venom, and compare herself to the other woman. Beautiful, intelligent, great lawyer with a strong character. It seemed natural to fall for her.
If he sensed her discomfort, the journalist said nothing, spending the evening laughing with the other couple only keeping his hand on her shoulder, putting it back each time Venom forced him to take it off. He was kind enough not to ask her what she had thought of Anne, or if she was reassured. Maybe he was afraid of the answer too.
After that, things got a little complicated. Without doing it on purpose, Y/N put some distance between them. To protect herself, because she only thought of one thing.
One day, Eddie was going to listen to Venom. One day, he was going to see that even if he no longer loved Anne, he could find someone better, and he was going to leave her.
Well, the alien still had contradictory messages. If Y/N sucked, Eddie sucked too. A loser. When he wasn't busy asking for food or criticizing the young woman, he was insulting his poor host.
And if she ended up not listening to what he said about her, only caring about her boyfriend's opinion, she didn't like it at all that Venom treated Eddie so badly.
"No." she said one day, sitting on the sofa, while the journalist was still arguing with the alien for some stupid reason, before throwing up his arms and agreeing to go buy chocolate and tatter tots to calm him down.
"…Uh ? Sorry, Y/N, are you talking to me ?"
"You're not going out."
"Uh. I'll just go to Madam Cheng's. It'll only take a few minutes."
"Venom doesn't deserve chocolate. You stay here, watch the movie with me, and if he apologizes, then he gets some sugar."
“How dare you, stupid woman ?!” the symbiote shouted, showing all its teeth to scare her.
But Y/N wasn’t afraid anymore. Even though he was rude and mean, he had promised Eddie that he would never hurt her, and he seemed to be an alien of words. Aside from his screams, he had nothing against her.
“You, how dare you ?!” she replied, jumping off the couch, which seemed to surprise both Eddie and the symbiote. "I don't care what you think or say about me. I understand that you don't like me, that I'm not good enough, and you know what ? I agree ! Eddie deserves better than me. But he deserves better than you too ! You're an asshole to him ! I forbid you from talking to him like that, or breaking his nose, even if you fix him right after ! He's a great host, you should thank him and do everything to make him happy."
It was stupid, but she started crying as she spoke. Emotions tended to make her cry, even anger. At the silence of her boyfriend and her non-parasite, Y/N felt bad.
She then had the stupid instinct to go lock herself in the bathroom, to try to calm down and remember how to breathe.
From the other side of the door, she heard whispers, but was unable to tell what they were saying.
Then Eddie knocked gently, asking if he could come in, or if she would come out.
"… He's going to apologize ?"
"Yes, I promise."
Trying her tears to not give Venom another reason to make fun of her, Y/N opened shyly, not daring to look at her boyfriend right away, and stood stupidly in front of him, waiting.
“Vee…”
“I’m sorry, brave little morsel.”
"Hmm ? Oh. No, I meant an apology for Eddie."
“He already apologized, love.”
"I don't need him to apologize to me. He meant what he said, and like I said… He's not wrong. But it's nice."
"Little morsel…" Venom whispered, moving closer to her and looking almost sad. "I was totally wrong. I see it now. Eddie explained it to me, but I wasn't listening."
With Eddie translating what he said, the alien explained that for his species, symbiosis was important. They could have several hosts, but there was only one perfect symbiosis, just one.
Part of him wanted to keep his host to himself, jealous and possessive, but that wasn't possible, because contrary to what his attitude seemed to show, he cared about Eddie's happiness.
That was why he was so insistent that he return to Anne. Because from the memories he had seen of his relationship, he had seemed to be in perfect symbiosis with Anne, and since there was only perfect symbiosis, then he had to do everything to get her back, even if she was married to stupid Dan.
He didn’t hate Y/N. It really wasn't personal, it was just logic and survival instinct.
What Venom failed to understand was that human relationships weren't like symbiosis. And in the end, if he had to compare the two, it was now obvious that Eddie's perfect match was with Y/N.
Yes, his ex had helped them, and she would help them again if necessary. But so did Y/N, who had accepted Eddie's special situation, who had stayed despite the horrible things Venom had said, who protected her lover and tried to please the alien.
"Babe…" Eddie sighed, taking her hands. “If anyone is too good for anyone else here, it’s you.”
"He's right."
"… Thank you Vee."
"But you always say she's too good for you. Once we agree, you might be happy !"
"Eddie… You're saying that ?"
"Of course. I still don't know how I managed to seduce you, or why you didn't run away when you saw Vee, or what I did to deserve that such a great girl could think that she's in love with a guy like…"
He jumped a little when she kissed him to stop him from saying any more nonsense, but Eddie quickly relaxed, clinging to her, pinning her against the wall to accentuate the kiss.
Right in their ears they could hear Venom purring in pleasure. They didn't mind until he licked their cheeks.
"Vee ! It's disgusting !"
"You're not listening to me ! I'm telling you to get into bed ! You're going to hurt Y/N if you stay here. A Lady should be caught in satin sheets, surrounded by rose petals, after foreplay of at least twenty minutes, and satisfied several times."
"… What ?!"
"I really like this idea. Eddie, where are my rose petals and at least twenty minutes of foreplay ?"
"Y/N ! Don't team up against me, please !"
"I can help him with endurance. And the rest. I've seen a lot of videos."
"… Okay ! Remind me to take care of my internet history tomorrow morning."
"Yeah, yeah. Less talk, more passion. Little morsel is waiting, I can feel it, and she's ovulating."
"… Aren't you supposed to go get chocolate from Madam Cheng ?"
"Yes ! And I will take the opportunity to explain for the hundredth time why there are things that should not be said."
“But Y/N is wet.”
"And here we go !"
Despite Eddie's explanations, Venom continued to want to give advice and do everything to make his relationship with Y/N perfect.
After all, he had almost ruined everything, so he felt he had an obligation to help these two idiots be happy, living in harmony and understanding what to do to satisfy the other in every situation.
Even if Eddie was already a caring and kind boyfriend, who Y/N didn't want to leave at all despite this little characteristic.
That said, after the alien took the initiative to help with his tongue once, she wasn't really complaining about it.
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moonlightazriel · 3 months
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Chapter 3: Adjusting /// Azriel X F!Reader
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Summary: Y/N recieves a invitation she just can't say no to.
Word Count: 3K
Warnings: Angst and fighting.
Notes: I've been writing this fic nonstop, help.
Main Masterlist
Worlds Apart Masterlist
Claws dug in the skin of her thighs, so deep that blood soaked the dark riding leathers, broken sobs left her lips and the tears burned her eyes. Breath in and breathe out. She tried to force herself into this routine, but each breath of air that invaded her lungs felt like glass shards cutting her insides. 
Her guts twisted, forcing nothing to come out, as the content of her stomach had already been discharged in the toilet, a few inches away from where she kneeled to the floor. She kept weeping, alone, on the cold tiles. Mourning for all that was taken from her once again. 
Alone, that’s what she truly was. Did the Mother deemed her so unworthy that once again she found herself lonely and numb inside? She was finally getting her shit back together, finally starting to see the world in a better light, and for what? To be left alone in an unknown place, to never come back to the life she was building.
Each sob was more desperate than the other, more hysterical, louder. She felt pathetic, she wasn’t raised to be like that, but her foolish heart insisted on feeling too much again, letting those emotions consume her would be her downfall. Her whole body shakes with her sorrow, making it hard to stand again.
She forced herself up, hands gripping hard against the wall, each step towards the bathroom were hard to make, but she forced herself, gritting her teeth and mentally screaming at herself, begging for her to be stronger, stop with this damn show. She just didn’t feel pathetic, she was pathetic. What would the witches say if they saw her right now? 
She stopped by the bathroom door, taking some deep breaths, trying to control the constant river of tears that made her vision blurry. In a harsh motion, she wiped her tears, clearing her eyes to see the mess she had made. 
Glass scattered around the room, from the broken mirror on the left side of the wall. The blankets were messy, ripped in different places and broken pieces of both decoration and furniture littered the floors. From the anger outburst she had after she was left alone. 
She wasted all her anger and now all that was left was the emptiness, that numbing void that threatened to consume her whole. The same void she was stuck into for months after the war, after she lost her family. 
She would apologise for the damages later, but for now all she could do was drag herself to the bed, falling there with her eyes closed. Silent tears kept falling down the sides of her face, she just lay there, waiting for the sleep that would wrap her in its safe confinement. 
But everything felt wrong, the sheets felt wrong, the walls felt wrong, the only thing that indeed felt right in that moment, was the faint smell of night-chilled mist and cedar that consumed her senses and pulled her into a dreamless sleep. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 
Sunlight peeked through the window, forcing her to wake up. She blinked a couple of times, using her palm to shield the light and give her time to adjust. She jumped in bed, grabbing the discarded sword at her side. 
Swinging it around, she looked in confusion at the pristine state the room was, the same way it was when she first went there. It was like last night was some sort of twisted dream, if not for the pounding headache, she wouldn’t even remember what had happened there. 
By the side of the bed she found a bottle, a potion as she read the information across the bottle. She downed everything quickly, feeling the instant relief the potion brought, just like Yrene’s one did to her, the healer would constantly send medications and potions to the Witch Kingdom and other territories as the agreement demanded. 
The Great Agreement was a peace treaty signed by all the rulers in Erilea and other continents, to provide aid however they could. To rebuild a new world together, not letting our problems separate us anymore. The idea was brilliant but having to help deliver all those things to different parts of the world was sometimes very boring. 
Her alliance was scheduled to get more medications from Torre Cesme next month, delivered in Adarlan and some in Perranth. She wondered if they would have someone taking her place now, if she was as easily replaced as a missing piece of paper.  
Brushing that thought aside, she walked to the bathroom, a bath was waiting for her, a new toothbrush and some other personal things were also there. She brushed her teeth, then splayed some cold water on her face to wake herself up. 
She removed her clothes, sinking in the warm water, letting her head submerge until she couldn’t breathe anymore. As she raised her head, her clothes were gone. Maybe they had the Little Folk here as well. Mother knows how much she loved the tiny creatures whenever she had to stay in the woods, always bringing her flowers and little statues. They were so kind to her, maybe they were here too.
She wrapped herself in a towel, stalking towards the big wardrobe in the corner of the room. It was filled to the brim with clothes in various dark shades.She chose a pair of dark red underwear, ignoring the marks on her back in the mirror. Some scars littered her body, but the ones on her back were the worst ones, worse than the one on her face. 
She found a pair of dark pants, the fabric glued to her frame, easy to move in it. She adjusted her boots over the pants, opting for a short sleeved grey shirt and a black corset tied in her back, making her breasts spill from the cleavage the shirt had. She looked good, she finished by strapping her sword and cloak behind her back and brushing her hair. 
She took a deep breath, looking at herself once more in the mirror before she left the room, her stomach growling loudly, but she wanted to find Meraxes before anything else. So she opened the door, ready to find her wyvern. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 
Azriel felt her before he saw her, his shadows running away from their leash to welcome the female at the dining room. She looked down, her eyes glued to the shadows dancing around her feet, like they were happy to see her. With a finger pointed to them, she watched as a bold strand of mist circled her finger and danced around it, she smiled at them, making Azriel’ blush. 
Cassian and Nesta were there watching the exchange with curiosity. Elain had just arrived too, and by the looks on her face as she eyed the new guest up and down, he could tell she wasn’t happy. Despite Rhysand’s warning, they still wanted to try, see if the Mother really made a mistake in mating her to Lucien, but something never felt right for him, and even more now as Cassian urged Y/N to join them. The female’s blue eyes scanned the room, and she tried to smile at them, waving her hand slowly.
“Come have breakfast with us.” Cassian said, Rhys had begged them to be friendly with her, to not cause any more trouble, as they didn’t know what her and her pet were able to do. 
“Thank you, but I need to check on Meraxes.” She really needed to see him, he tended to be very moody if he didn’t eat early in the morning. 
“He is actually sleeping on the biggest balcony we have.” She looked at him surprised. Deciding to join them, after all he wasn’t the only one that got angry when hungry. “These are Nesta.” He pointed to the female by his side, she was wearing black leather clothes, eyes filled with power. “And Elain.” He pointed to the petit female sitting by Azriel’s side, she had scooted her chair closer to him, a hand wrapped around his biceps in a protective manner. 
“Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N.” A plate filled with muffins, bacon, eggs, pancakes and a cup of coffee appeared in front of her. The smell was delicious, so she started to eat.
“Cassian told me you cut Rhysand open on your first day here, I've been wanting to do that for months now. Nice move.” The female, Nesta, started. A smug carving her pretty face. 
“I’m glad to help.” She joked, sipping on her coffee. “Just making sure there’s no valgs around.” She pointed, something still felt weird about him, being so similar to Maeve, after all she chose to look like him.
“It’s the fourth time since you’re here that you mention those valg things.” Azriel started, his gaze fixed on hers, watching as the corner of her lips turned downwards in pure distaste. 
“Demons from another world that infested my land and destroyed everything.” The table fell silent. “They had lots of forms, and they were very powerful. Some say that witches come from breeding valgs and faes, that the Ironteeth took after the Valgs while the Crochans took after the faes.”
“So you’re a witch? Looks like it.” The other female snickered, receiving a disapproval glare from both her sister and her mate. Azriel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. She caught it, her nostrils flaring at his behaviour. 
“Elain..” Nesta reprimanded her but the female giggled without any humour.
“Yes, I’m a witch.” That frown turned into a cruel smirk as she turned to Elain, neither of them wanted to be on the receiving end of that glare. “And I killed for less than this silly offence.” 
“Of course Elain didn’t mean it that way.” Azriel started, giving her a stern look as she tried to protest. What the fuck was wrong with her? “So what are your plans for the day?” He inquired, wanting desperately to change topics. 
“First, check on him.” She pointed to the ceiling. “And then i don’t know, find a way to get the fuck out of here maybe.” She shrugged. 
“Would you be interested in participating in some Valkyrie training?” Nesta spoke, by her instance, the weapon behind her back and the scars, she knew she was in the presence of a formidable warrior, and she wanted to see what she could do. 
“And what would this be?” Nesta started to talk about the Valkyries and their work, how they had won the blood rite and the growing number of female warriors, this seemed like a great idea, which made her accept. 
“Great, we see your wyvern and then we go?” Y/N nodded. Perfect. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 
The animal opened its eyes, slowly moving his head until he spotted a very excited Nesta behind his rider. Y/N rolled her eyes and lowered her hand.
“She’s a friend.” It felt weird saying this about this stranger, but it was the best way to convince him that she was safe. “And here’s breakfast.” She said, throwing the dead sheep Cassian had handed her before she made her way towards the balcony. Meraxes immediately caught it, its teeth crushing the animal as his tail wiggled.
“He’s beautiful.” Nesta spoke, mesmerised by the animal. 
“He’s a giant puppy, that’s what he is.” Y/N laughed as he pouted at her. “Alright, alright.” She turned to Nesta. “Not a puppy, he’s a very scary big deadly wyvern. Happy now?” Nesta could swear that she saw him nodding his head like he could understand her. 
“How did you get him?” Nesta asked while Y/N inspected him for any injuries. 
“They were made for us, we just had to be chosen. We bonded and I've been his rider since then. We’ve been through a lot together, I don't know what I would do without him.” She rested her head against his nose and he closed his eyes as their hearts beat in synchrony. 
“I can see the love you two share.” Y/N smiled at Nesta. “Does he understand you?” She let her curiosity take the best of her.
“He does, despite pretending he doesn’t.” She laughed. “Should we get going?” Nesta nodded. 
“Just a few steps down.” She followed the female silently, still feeling weird about the whole ordeal, but Nesta seemed like a very nice female, someone Asterin would love to meet. 
“These are the Valkyries.” Nesta announced as they entered a training area. Various females stood there, all of them wearing the same clothes but so different from one another. It reminded her of the witches back home. “Valkyries, this is Y/N, she will be joining today’s training.” 
The females greeted her with animation, happy to learn more fighting techniques. She scanned her crowd, a female with very bright blue eyes and freckles looked the happiest, by her side a tanned female with wings, just like Cassian and Azriel, studied her with a reserved smile on her lips. 
“Hello, ladies. I come from a lineage of strong warriors, females born to fight.” The females stood in silence, paying attention to her. “We are the Ironteeth witches.” She clicked her jaw, her metallic smile shining in the sun alongside her claws, the females gasped. “For centuries my people fought, every newborn witchling knew how to hold a sword before she could even walk.”
She pulled the long sword from her back, the dark grey blade swallowing the light as it was pulled out of its shelter. A amethyst was placed in the middle of the handle, and adorning the middle of the blade, shining with power. The black handle was cold to the touch and she felt the weight of the sword. 
“This is the Godslayer.” She lowered the weapon, placing the blade in front of her with respect. The females tried to look at the intricate pattern on the blade. It was as beautiful as Ataraxia. “The blade that help defeat the Valgs, a parasite type of demon that infested our home.” She turned her head to the side, showing her scar. “The blade many tried to kill me to have.” 
The scar itched, she remembered the yellowlegs jumping on her wyvern, claiming that she would take the Godslayer away from such an unworthy bearer. It was that bitch who sliced her face open with her claws, and it was also that bitch that laid unmoving with her abdomen open on the battlefield. 
“So I know a thing or two about fighting.” She concluded with a smile and the females smiled back at her. Azriel and Cassian stayed behind her, her story peeking their interest. Azriel caught himself wanting to know more about her, hear her stories about her land and her scars. 
He had come to training after a quick argument with Elain, she had claimed that he was very quick to defend the stranger and that she said nothing that no one else was already thinking. He left her after stating that he was just being nice to her and there was no need for her rude remark. Elain had turned her back to him and he was more than happy to leave her alone. 
“Who wants to go against her?” Nesta said, a couple of hands were lifted in the air, but Azriel stepped forward, ignoring them and clearing his throat.
“I’ll go.” She turned to him, her sword back in place. “Choose your weapons.” He offered, hand pointing to the weapon shelf behind her, she shook her head. Removing her cloak and her sword, clicking her jaw until her teeth disappeared. She lifted her hands. “Just your nails? Be careful not to break them.” He warned, unsheathing truth teller. 
The females made a circle around them, Y/N watched as the Shadowsinger prepared himself, wings clutched against his back and his dagger at eye level. She had impaled lots of enemies with those nails, a dagger wouldn’t stop her. With an iron nail, she curled her finger, urging him forward. 
Azriel felt his skin tight, her smell completely intoxicating. He lunged forward, his dagger clashing against iron, sparks of fire surging as the two slid together. He gasped in surprise as the nails kept intact, no matter how sharp the truth teller was.  
She kicked his legs, making him falter. He let his body fall backwards when a sharp nail got really close to his face. He punched her in the abdomen, making her trip a few steps back away from him, giving him the upper hand. They circled each other, like in a silent dance with a song only they could hear. 
She punched his face, blood pouring out of his busted lip, while her nose, that he had landed a punch moments earlier leaked a blue substance, by the scent, it was blood. The females watched intrigued at the colour, never seeing something like this before. They all watched in silence, learning her moves, how easily she moved, how she dodged his blows and how she attacked. A formidable warrior indeed, Nesta once again was right. 
She ran for him, jumping on him. Azriel quickly ducked down, away from her reach, just like she knew he would. She landed with her back turned to him, quickly spinning in the same spot, like a very skilled dancer. Azriel got up, but didn’t turn quick enough. He felt the cold edge of her nails scraping against his throat, her legs wrapped around his waist. Heat emanated from her. 
“And that’s how you die.” She whispered in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. She clicked her jaw, the sound of her iron teeth, the superior half hitting the bottom half as she bit the air really close to his earlobe. 
Azriel felt his blood run wildly in his veins, warming his heart and making it hard to think with her pressed like that against him. She quickly let him go, circling him and bowing a bit. 
“Thank you for the fight.” She turned to the females. “Anyone else would like to go?” This time, more hands raised in the air, she smiled at them, and Azriel found himself lost in that beautiful smile.  
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
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k9wa · 6 months
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𑣲 MINE, ALL MINE. ft. SATORU GOJO
⠀ — so when i die, which i must do,
⠀ OR
⠀ — it isn’t gojo’s death that kills you, not more so than the circumstances.
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⚠︎ 236 spoilers, angst, gn reader, i miss him so much i’m literally spiralling, its been three months i actually can’t take it anymore, angst, Angst, maybe angst idk. wc 797
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december 30th rolls around faster than you can hope to process.
nothing in your apartment has been moved even the slightest inch in the last week. 
two coffee cups still sit atop the kitchen counter, their contents long spoiled and beginning to smell.  one of them is far worse than the other due to the abundance of cream and sugar inside it. 
a large pair of black boots, leather with a pointed toe stay messily in the doorway— you’ve already memorised the steps to take not to trip over them and knock them out of place. 
the bed remains the same, blankets and pillows in the identical messy pattern they were on the morning of the 24th. (you haven’t even gone into the bedroom, actually. you don’t have the bravery. you sleep on the couch.)
…the place is empty. it’s full, what with the clutter and picture frames on the wall and furniture. but it’s empty. cold, even. like a hand reached in through the ceiling and grabbed any warmth, ripping it out without mercy and leaving you in the frigid remains.
he should be here, you keep thinking. this is his home too.
maybe you’re dramatic. maybe his death shouldn’t have turned you so utterly pathetic. maybe you should be able to get a semblance of a fucking grip and at least clean the apartment that is suffocating you with memories you can’t bare to discard because it’s all you have left.
but it isn’t satoru’s death that kills you, not more so than the circumstances. it’s how.
and it’s not that he went out in a blaze of glory, fighting against the strongest sorcerer of all time who he, momentarily, had backed into a corner. not that he died with a smile on his face, the adrenaline of combat surging through his veins because to his core he enjoyed it.
but that it was megumi who he had to go against. that he found it easy to fight him no holds barred because of the irreparable mark the boy’s father had left on his very soul when he himself was just a boy. why? why did he deserve such a fate? why was it placed upon him? it isn’t fair.
his death incapacitates you because of how sudden it is. with no warning, lured into a false sense of security, just to have the rug pulled out from under you. at only 29 years old, over ten years of companionship are reduced to nothing but what used to be.
you’ll soon forget how his hand feels in yours, the sound of his laugh, the tickling of his hair against your nose when he nuzzles your cheek. it’s nauseating just to think about, yet not being able to recall at all might just be more than you can handle.
it’s not satoru’s death that kills you, because everybody dies. and in your line of work, it’s always sooner rather than later. satoru, strongest or not, is—was human. his death would rear it’s head some day, that was something you both knew. 
but fuck you’ll curse every night to a god that doesn’t listen, and to the walls of a room that no longer feels like yours that you didn’t get more time.
he deserved to hit 30, to have what remained of his students crack jokes and call him old, and to watch him whine and run to you with complaints. he deserved to grow old enough to where he could finally be at peace with the death of suguru getou, or at least find peace within it enough to where it didn’t plague his life anymore— despite his insistent denial that it didn’t.
fuck what he deserved, damn it all to hell. you wanted him to do these things. wholly and perhaps even selfishly. 
you wanted him to grow old with you, 
you wanted him to stay by your side so you could stay by his. 
you wanted him to reach a point someday where jujutsu society no longer had the two of you bound in heavy chains like two puppeteers; despite satoru’s advocacy and determination to make it different. where you could live your life together free of its terror.
…you wanted to see him succeed at that so badly. to see the proud look on his face when he no longer had to watch more children be sent to death.
look how well that worked out, huh, satoru?
you open the front door to your apartment, feet weaving easily around the pair of shoes obstructing the walkway. you walk past the same two grey coffee mugs on the counter, past the half shut bedroom door, and sit on the couch. you lay down, still in the same clothes, the same shoes.
you spend the night wishing it was you who’d gone first. 
maybe tomorrow you will have the bravery. 
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⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 5 months
Note
Imagine garrick tavis×reader where the reader gets hurt during a training and garrik is so worried about it and they have a little fight
Right... this is not exactly as the ask but... blood and deaths. That's all.
My terror
He trusted you. Trusted you with parts of his mind that he only granted to Xaden at times. You had been a loyal ally from day one. Sticking around the small group of marked ones even if you weren't a part of them. But you had fought on their side more than once and when Garrick picked you to be his second in command no one dared to question it. It was an obvious pick for the most part even if Bodhi and Xaden hadn't missed a beat at teasing Garrick for it.
"Give it to me", his voice was low and smooth as he stopped right by your side, glancing over the packed training room. You didn't even flinch, used to his quiet presence, a skill to move without a trace. "Pathetic, absolutely pathetic", you sighed with frustration, "I think they will die over their clumsiness". The hand-in-hand combat training had started and Garrick had tasked you with handling it this year.
"Two of them were sent to healers and they haven't even stepped onto the mats", you turned to him, flashing him one of your fake smiles but Garricl saw right through it. "Maybe put off the test for next week", you muttered, "Cause, I can't promise...", "What I see here today doesn't have a direct impact on how I see you", Garrick replied sharply. He knew that you were never one to fish for compliments. You had earned his respect with action not pretty words. "I'm the one...", you started again, "Who's on my right side", Garrick finished and your eyes softened instantly. "And will be taking a leave for the rest of the week. I'll smooth it over. You have nothing to worry about". you frowned at his words, "I don't need a break", "The permanent frown lines between your eyebrows say otherwise", Garrick smirked when your fingers reached up to run over your forehead. Once your eyes met him you nudged him with an arm, shaking your head, "Go back to scowling, Tavis, before Bodhi has another breakdown over you having feelings". Just the funny thing was that he had feelings. All are neatly secluded for you. "That looks like his problem, not mine", he muttered. Letting his eyes linger on you for one more moment before his angry gaze fell back on the room.
It was pathetic that you hadn't been wrong about it. Garrick had questioned how at least half of the group had even made it here. Messy punches. Hunched backs. Knife clattering to the ground. Whimpers. And the maker above kill him even tears. But Garrick hadn't intervened. Standing still in his corner. Arms folded over his chest. If he was being honest he had given up on monitoring the cadets after the second fight. Since then his eyes have been on you.
You were his little terror for a reason. There was always something about the way you handled yourself. How your eyes would flicker. To others, it was nothing but coldness. But Garrick was more than aware of the deterioration and passion that lay behind it all. You both were similar in more than one way. Had learned to read one another. To the point were you didn't even need to say a word. It was clear as it was. And now it was clear that you were loosing your composure. You were tired and suddenly Garrick felt a ting of guilt running through his chest because he had been particularly busy with the revolution and had left most of the wing duties to you. And, yes, you handled them perfectly but you were also a human and one that had reached its limits.
"Again", your voice ripped the silence making Garrick blink. "Pick it up and go again", you pointed to the dagger on the floor. The cadet glared back at you. The guy was bigger than you but nothing you couldn't handle. You handled worse. You knew how to look after yourself. Yet Garrick felt his senses perking up. His demons stirring inside him. Careful, he thought, pick your next move carefully, bud.
"You've gone deaf or something? Pick. It. Up", you kicked the cadet's dagger towards him. The guy's face twisted with anger. You were making a spectacle out of him. Laying out his weaknesses for everyone to see. He thought that you were no doubt playing on your rank. While in reality, it was his fragile pride that shined bright. You were offering others an advantage. If only they had enough brains to realize that.
"You huff and puff but you are worthless. With skills like yours...", you cut off shaking your head as your eyes fell on the rest of the group. "You'll be dead in no time. Cause no one will wait for you to get up on the battlefield. You're down. You're dead". While the rest stood there with their heads bowed or at least with some form of realization in their eyes. The piss poor chap thought he was going to prove his point.
Garrick failed to see it quick enough too. Too enamored by you. Only when the knife was flying towards you did his mind catch up as to what was happening. Right to your left shoulder. For the first time, the aim was perfect. Garrick's insides shrunk, bile raising. He knew he wasn't going to cross the room quick enough. A warning shout was painting his lips when you finally turned back.
Your hand wraps around the blade stopping it in its track. You didn't even flinch. The victory died in the cadet's eyes, replaced by an ashy paleness. "You made a poor choice", you said through gritted teeth as the first drops of red blood ran down your palm. "Do you know what happens to people who make poor choices?", you asked with a smile. Garrick could see the flames that ran though you heating up your skin. The cadet swallowed thickly. "Say hi to Malek from me", Garrick knew the outcome before your words even got the chance to flow through the room. He doubted the cadet even had a chance to hear your last words. Shouts erupted. Screams. A loud thud as a body fell to the floor with a knife planted right in the middle of his neck.
"Dismissed", Garrick's voice cut through the chaos, "All of you out". And where everyone was rushing away from you, Garrick stepped forward. "By any chance forgot about the rule of not killing your squad?", his tone was venomous as he gripped your elbow, turning you away. Your hand was drenched in your blood, the slashes were screaming to be sowed. "I didn't...", you muttered, eyes darting back to the body laying limp. He should have stepped in sooner. He could tell that you were loosing the battle in your head. Garrick caught your chin quickly, "Self-defense, darling. I'm more pissed that you didn't leave him to me. wouldn't have been so merciful". Ripping a piece of his shirt, Garrick wrapped it over your palm in hopes of stopping the bleeding at least somewhat.
"You can't defend me. This may get you killed too", you pushed back, shaking your head. "He struck first. I would have had him in bits by the morning regardless", Garrick breathed out. "You can't...", you started, but he cut in quick, "Can and will. He had an intention to harm what's mine. And you're my terror", A gasp slipped past your lips at his words, "I hate when others think that they can mess with something that's mine". Your fiery eyes looked up at him. You knew what his words entailed. You knew the power of them. Feeling the flames easing at the side of your only source of peace.
"You're with me?", Garrick's tone had become more soft, his eyes truly to gaze through the shields with you. "I've always been with you", you muttered. You saw a flash of something you haven't seen before skimming through his eyes before Garrick nodded. "Clench your palm into a fist for me. Up against your chest and press", it was an order and you knew it. "Can you walk yourself to the healer?", you knew he was referring more to you loosing control then the bleeding even if you could see his jaw tensing at the sight of it. You nodded. Garrick followed suit. "Good", his lips pressed against your temple, "I'll meet you there".
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folkookie97 · 1 year
Text
❝ drunk confessions (1) ❞ — jjk
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— SUMMARY: ❝Jungkook was intense. An emotional mess in your life even after the breakup. But you couldn't help but miss all his chaos during those endless late nights when you were cuddled up with another man.❞
— PAIRING: ex bf!jungkook x ex gf!!reader (soft bf!taehyung)
— TYPE: angst | ex lovers!au, non-idol!au
— WORD COUNT: 1,738
— WARNINGS: argument, curse words, alcohol, toxic!jungkook, jungkook is bad at feelings, emotional infidelity, mention of sex, mention of bf!taehyung, based on From the Dining Table (Harry Styles)
— NOTES: jungkook as toxic ex bf kills me every time i think about him.
— RELEASE DATE: July 15, 2023
— CROSSPOSTING: ao3, wattpad, spirit fanfics
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Your eyelids couldn't close. Stinging sensations arose in the waterlines of your eyes with every frustrated attempt to reach the sleepy darkness. Your own body defied the human need to at least take a nap.
You were screwed. You knew better than anyone how endless the early hours of the morning could be.
Your nightly sleep had been a mess ever since storms of thoughts and reflections became a routine for your brain during resting hours. You couldn't relax when your mind insisted on filling you with confusion by recalling all the conflicts of the past few months.
And most importantly: recalling that damn phone call.
The last one you had with Jungkook.
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You remembered all the details. It was possible to feel once again how strong your heartbeats was when the phone rang that night. Your hands, sweaty with sudden emotion, struggled to answer the call as quickly as possible, afraid that something you had been waiting for so long might accidentally end up in voicemail due to lack of swiftness.
The memory of how the phone fell silent for long seconds as soon as you called Jungkook's name. A part of you was afraid that the call hadn't been intentional, just something like a misdial.
You two hadn't spoken to each other for weeks, and maybe Jungkook wasn't even planning to call you that night.
Even if that night was very significant to you.
To relieve the flutter, you swallowed hard at the mere thought that your enthusiasm might have been in vain.
A sigh could be heard on the other line when Jungkook's name was mentioned once again.
"I can't do this anymore, (Y/N)."
The girl's heart skipped a beat for a moment, and you could swear a buzzing sound echoed through the room.
"What are you talking about?" You asked.
"Me and you. Us. Our relationship is so complicated. A real mess..." The boy sobbed. You could feel that his voice was so broken as your heart.
"Kookie... if this is about our last fight, I'm sorry. It was such a stupid reason. I know, but I..."
"FUCKING HELL!"
The male scream echoed through the device, startling you not just because of a thunderous volume but also because it was followed by Jungkook's laughter.
A sarcastic laughter.
Lack of emotional intelligence in arguments had always been a characteristic of Jungkook's personality. He was a chaos. A hurricane ready to destroy everything in its path.
And lately you've been hating that habit about him.
Jungkook's intensity made you fall in love with him two years ago. But it had also made our love being so messy and toxic. Turning sunny skies into deadly storms.
There was no longer a sweet relationship for you.
"Can you hear yourself? You're almost begging me. That's because I wanna leave you. It's so pathetic. You're so clingy." He said.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you checked the time on your phone's screen, the hard brightness hurting your vision.
"Jungkook, I don't wanna fight right now. It's only ten minutes until my birthday. I thought you were calling to wish me an early happy birthday or..."
"Or what?" Jungkook laughed, his sobbing merging with the bitterness of his laughter. "Did you think I wanted to apologize for that day?"
"You said you were sorry..." You reminded him, biting your lower lip to suppress the waterfall of tears streaming down your cheeks.
"I used to feel. But only until I drank these two whiskey bottles and turned me into a tearful wreck." The sound of glass shattering on the floor was heard. Your desire to ask if he hurted himself was almost bigger than the urgency to keep your crying unnoticed. "Do you know why I'm drinking on a Wednesday night?"
You refrained from answering. His question was almost rhetorical, a pure melancholic rambling of a drunken human being.
So dramatic like Jungkook always used to be.
"I was with Lori today," Jungkook's confession triggered a pain in your stomach. Your effort to not vomit at his words was utterly depressing. "We saw each other, had sex like we always do. She's good at what she does. She always rides my dick and also looks like a porn actress when she's on her knees giving me a amazing oral..."
Maybe Jungkook would laugh when your disguise fell. You thought he would pause his monologue to mock how your sobs were constant and how pathetic you seemed.
Or maybe he would keeping rambling until the pain of your broken heart became unbearable and your brain convinced you to end the call.
However the thought of Jungkook crying like you were doing had never crossed your mind. Not even for a single second of your life.
He was sobbing like a child who got hurt on the playground; helpless and seeking the comfort of some trusted adult.
Before you could filter the words, the question had already escaped your lips.
"Why are you crying?"
And realizing the chaos inside his mind, Jungkook laughed again amidst tears. A sorrowful laughter.
"Because she's not you, (Y/N)."
The girl widened her eyes. The tears turned crystalline and your pupils dilated as Jungkook's words caused stumbles in your heart.
What was he trying to say? How drunk was he to lay his feelings bare for the first time since the breakup?
The anticipation of a confession pained your mind. A variety of scenarios emerged every second.
"I love you so much, (Y/N). I love everything about you. And this feeling it's killing me because missing you hurts too much." He sighed. The sound of breaking glass resurfaced and you swallowed hard as you picturing that scene. "When Lori told me she saw you yesterday, I swear I was desperate to talk to you as soon as possible."
"Yesterday she was wearing my old shirt..." You interrupted feeling a intense burning in your throat. "That Guns N' Roses shirt that you bought me in our first month of dating."
"You left it here at home and your damn scent was still on it. I needed a way to overshadow it and I..."
"Fucked your coworker."
Jungkook was speechless for a while. No comforting words could deny the injustice of the situation. He knew that you didn't deserve to see Lori wearing that shirt that had once been so special for both of you.
You didn't deserve to suffer through any of it. You didn't deserve to shed your tears or be broken-hearted for someone so unworthy.
Jungkook knew that you didn't deserve to be destroyed by the chaos he brought into others' lives.
He loved you. But he didn't know how to make you happy. He didn't know if he could ever fix your heart.
Was he selfish for wanting to try get your sweet love back? Was it too late for you two?
"Jungkook, I need to hang up."
His heart instantly broke at your warning and the formality in your words.
"(Y/N), please," The boy begged with a trembling voice. "You need to listen to me. I've been holding back everything I feel for you for so long, I need..."
It made you furious. You could even cry with rage.
"You've been holding all this bullshit back for a long time? Then keep holding it back for a little while longer." The words came out harsher than intended but you weren't in the mood to regret it. For the second time that night you checked the time on your phone screen and wiped away the tears from your cheeks with your free hand. "It's already my birthday, Jungkook. You didn't even call me to apologize or wish me a happy birthday. You just wanted to hurt me. Hurt my heart. My feelings."
"My baby, I'm so sorry. Fuck. I swear I..."
Your classic pet name pushed you over the edge.
"I don't wanna talk to you today." You admitted. "I love you. I swear I fucking love you. I love you much more than I would like and than I should."
You sighed hearing Jungkook cry. You were definitely not used to the pain you felt when you heard him cry.
"But I'm tired Jungkook. I'm tired of loving you and I'm getting tired of you."
"I love you, (Y/N). I just wanna try to fix things. I'm trying, baby. I swear I'm trying."
"I know, Kookie." At least you really knew that. "But I don't wanna deal with this whirlwind of emotions that you've been hiding for years. Call me when you're sober if you truly love me and really wanna try to fix things."
And in that early morning, when the clock struck 12h02 AM, you had your last call with Jeon Jungkook.
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Your request for him to return with real sobriety not happened. Hypotheses swam through your mind over the next few months. Did he regretted the brief expression of feelings? Were the love confessions and desperate crying just a delusion resulting from alcohol?
You couldn't know the true cause for Jungkook's ghosting but the choice not to seek the truth haunted you at night, when your head rested on the pillow and your eyes were unable to close.
"Darling, are you okay? Why are you crying?"
With a slight startle, you directed your attention to the male body beside you. The young man had his long fingers wrapped around your waist tracing caresses on your bare skin.
His lips were pressed into a thin line and his eyebrows furrowed in a countenance that indicated excessive worry. He looked a lot like the guy you used to love.
Actually the one you still loved.
The name Jungkook almost escaped you in a tearful whisper.
"Yes, Tae. I'm fine. It's just... just a nightmare."
The man soothe you with a sweet smile and pulled you into a hug. It was a square smile different from the typical bunny smile Jungkook had. However the image of your ex-boyfriend remained permanent in your mind as Taehyung caressed your hair. Your heart hurts with the contrast between your thoughts and the cruel reality.
Both of they were extremely different yet had similarities that made your stomach churn.
And as Taehyung tried to pull you into a deep sleep whispering lyrics of romantic songs in your ear, you wondered if Jungkook's name would show up on your caller ID someday again.
247 notes · View notes
bel1ewrites · 1 year
Note
could you write sam and reader getting into an argument because sam is so overprotective and tries to keep reader at home to keep her safe from ghostface but reader wants to go out, reader accidentally lets a “fuck you” towards sam slip during the argument and sam immediately puts her back in her place with smut please, i love the way you write sam so much
a/n: dropped everything I was doing to write this and all of a sudden its 2 AM??? Anyway, I love this.
A Slipping Mind (Samantha Carpenter x Reader)
Description: Sam always knows what's best for you.
WC: 1.8k
Warnings: toxic relationship, very slight mentions of murder, possessive!Sam, smut, praise kink, fingering, slight dumbification, top!Sam, bottom!reader, etc.
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“I DON'T know what you want from me, Samantha! Its like you won’t let me be my own fucking person,” you seethed, pressing your fingertips to your temple in an attempt to calm yourself down. The person you argued with remained quiet, face impassive as she closed the door to your apartment and stripped off her jacket.
“You’re not going.” She said, voice stern and even. “End of discussion-”
“-Like hell it is,” you interrupted. But even as you said this your voice shook, and you wondered when her emotions would boil over and result in another fist through the wall. Ultimately, there was no going back. “I bought a costume for this party. I canceled plans for this party. I got a goddamn tattoo for this party-”
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you did or didn’t do for this frat party, y/n.” She sighed, interrupting you this time. “It's Halloween weekend. He could be anywhere, and here you are acting like a child while I’m trying to protect you.”
“I can protect myself.”
“Right. Because that went so well the last time.”
“Of course you’re gonna bring that up right now,” you nodded in exasperation and bit your knuckle, stomping into your shared bedroom and tearing off your shirt. “Real fucking mature, babe.”
Sam followed close behind you, watching as you grabbed your costume out of the closet. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want me to wait for you to get stabbed again?” She quipped before ripping the fabric from your hands and stepping close to you, forcing you to back up against the wall. Your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, bra clad breasts brushing against her shirt with her proximity. “Or maybe you want me to say it to your grave after they find you dead in a fucking alley.”
“Fuck you.” you pushed out through gritted teeth as phantom pain from your last encounter with a murderer flooded through your lower stomach. The scarred skin puffed out in a jagged pale line.
The browns of her irises disappeared as her pupils dilated. She was looking down at you with a predatory glare; not unlike that of a caged lion. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
Your head tilted up. "Go fuck yourself," you laughed humorlessly, pushing roughly against her chest and wincing as she shoved you back against the wall with little to no effort. 
Her tongue peaked out to wet her bottom lip, mouth morphing into a malicious smile. "Why would I do that when I could just fuck this attitude out of you?"
Her right hand wrapped around your throat to keep your head back against the wall and in place as she slammed her lips to yours harshly, her other hand dropping the costume. It was messy. Teeth and tongue and demanding lips all working together to force you into submission. 
At first you fought back, squirming in place with your body pinned between her and the wall. You kept your lips stagnant and wrapped your hands around her wrist in a pathetic attempt to remove her hand from your neck. All she did was reach behind your back with her free hand, unclasping your bra with ease and smirking against you as you momentarily forgot to fight against the lust building within you, lips moving like fire against hers. 
“There she is.” Her voice was unhinged as she murmured against you. Her thumb dug into your jugular, feeling the blood pump as your heart struggled to keep its pace.
You could feel yourself giving in, brain struggling to remember why you were fighting in the first place; body relaxing in her grasp and hands dropping to your sides. “You’re crazy.” You insisted as a last ditch effort to maintain some ounce of your dignity. 
“You fucking love it.” She countered, moving her lips off of yours and nipping at your jaw, pulling at your bra until it fell from your body. 
As soon as those four words left her mouth, you were a goner. She had you where she wanted you, reading your mind like it was a picture book. You did love it. You loved it so much you hated it. “I do,” you relented, voice pitching up when she bit your earlobe; mouth in the shape of a knowing smile. 
Using the grip she had on your neck, Sam pulled you back from the wall and turned the both of you around, guiding you expertly toward the bed. “You don’t wanna go to that party, baby.”
Your back hit the mattress with a light thud, brain all light and foggy. 
“You’d rather stay here, with me.” She assured. “Isn’t that right?”
You gasped when her lips fell to your neck and instantly located your weak spot. “Mhm…” came your hummed agreement. “With you.”
Her hands began to wander, skimming over the peaks of your breasts and tracing each rib with her lithe fingers. Her nails dug into your hips as she took her time devouring you. Her shirt rubbed up against your bare nipples with each shift and you thought you’d go crazy because of her. Your mind was slipping.
Teeth dug into your clavicle, a moan escaped you against your will. “Wait, Sam.” You panted weakly. “Wanna… wanna go t-”
“-Shhh, pretty girl. Don’t think.” She shifted down your body and breathed against your sternum. “Just lay here and be good like I know you can. Let me make you feel good.”
Her lips pressed against the valley between your breasts, trailing kisses along the underside of your tit and nipping lightly at the swell of your flesh. Shifting desperately, you brought your hands to the nape of her neck and pulled her mouth to your nipple needily. 
Warm lips encompassed one nipple, rolling the other between her skilled fingers. Your hips twitched up when she sucked, tongue rolling over the hardened bud and fingers tugging at the other simultaneously. Her unoccupied hand moved to pull at the button of your jeans with the sureness of an expert. When she got it undone, she detached her mouth from you and moved to the other side. 
As soon as she felt both nipples had fair treatment, she moved down your body and unzipped your jeans, pulling them off of you and finding you bare beneath them. The sight set her mind ablaze, dripping cunt throbbing and naked and waiting for her. 
Her hands gripped your thighs roughly and pushed them far apart. “You were made for me.” 
She kneeled between your legs and dragged her fingers through the soaked heat that rested between them. “I’d never let you go to that stupid fucking party; never let anyone see what’s mine.”
You pushed your hips toward her, watching as she sucked her fingers clean with a hum. “Let me see those pretty eyes.”
Her eyes stared into yours, soaking in the way your lashes fluttered and your mouth fell open as she pushed two fingers into you. Her jaw clenched and her other hand grabbed onto your hip for balance. 
Your back arched against the mattress, cunt sucking her fingers in and clenching tightly as if trying to prevent them from leaving. Your head was spinning and Sam was the only thing that kept you grounded. She tethered you to the earth with the hand on your hip and sent you spiraling off of it with each move of the other. Groans spilled from your throat like blood; the sound pooling around you and encouraging her fingers to move faster. 
Each and every cell in your body was devoted to the woman before you. She knew you like the back of her hand. She knew how to make you fold, how to make you laugh, how to make you cry, and how to make you cum like no one else ever had. In turn, you knew how to satisfy her need to possess you. 
Her bicep tensed with each thrust, fingers moving in a rhythm she’d mastered a long time ago. “You’re the only one who can fuck me like this.” You panted, forcing your eyes to stay open so you could watch her own you.
“Yeah?” her hand pounded into you with more force. “Talk to me. Tell me every little thought in that head of yours.”
Sam wasn’t there anymore. She didn’t have the calm and loving look on her face you’d grown accustomed to. No, this was a different person. Her eyes were wide and wandering, teeth bared and veins poking out from her hands and forearms as blood pumped through her body. 
“You’re so beautiful like this.” You told her. Her hand moved off of your hip and rubbed at your neglected clit, making it hard for you to focus on your words. “So fucking raw-”
“-I want you to say you love me when you cum.” She grunted out as soon as she felt your walls start to squeeze her tighter. Sweat dampened her forehead, hair sticking to it and making her look even more disheveled. 
The orgasm was building and building. Every muscle in your body was taught with the sheer force of its impending arrival. All of your senses were on fire. You could feel her everywhere, in your mind and under your skin, fingers pressing into you just right; puzzle pieces sliding into place. The smell of sex filtered through your nostrils, the sounds of her fucking you flowing through your ears. The thing that overwhelmed you the most was the way she was looking at you like you completed her. 
“Fuck- fuck,” you moaned as your hands grasped the sheets beneath you. 
“Come on, baby. Say it.”
“I love you, I love you-” you were cut off by the mind numbing sensation that overtook you. Your orgasm crashed over you at five hundred miles per hour, stripping your head of all thoughts. 
Sam watched as you arched off the bed, slowing her thrusts as you shuddered and tensed and shook like a leaf. 
“There you go,” she smiled down at you. “You’re doing so good. Ride it out.”
You were beneath her, neck strained and still moaning incoherently. For at least a minute you stayed that way. She’d pulled out of you and began massaging your shaking thighs while she waited patiently for you to come down. 
When you finally did, the first words she said were, “I bet you’re glad you didn’t go to that party.”
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rowniebow · 2 years
Text
mercy | newt scamander x male reader
Summary: You and Newt have been put in a sticky situation. Newt has been the hot commodity lately, but you were all too ready to bargain. 
Warnings: Angst
Reader: Male, muggle
Parining(s): Newt Scamander x Male Reader
Word Count: 1.9k+
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masterlist
Your eyes focused on the cold cement ground you sat upon. Your knees were pulled to your chest. Your head was pounding from all the stress and commotion. You couldn’t help but wonder where you would be as of right now if you had denied the strange British man and stayed working at your nine-to-five factory job. Would you still reside in your pathetic, run down apartment across from Gerda who shared her butter and you shared your eggs with? Would Jerry still be belittling you about how lazy you are at your job? Yes. Most likely Jerry would still be an asshole.
But, most of all, would Newt be in this situation if it weren’t for you? You can’t help but think he would be sitting at home taking care of his creatures if it weren’t for you agreeing to join him. That, at least, is what you said to convince yourself you were okay with what was all happening. Convincing yourself you were at fault for the bad things so your “solution” to the issue - this decision you were making for the both of them - wouldn’t be as painful.
What were you to do, though? When someone shares their most vulnerable feelings with you, and you share your own, are you really supposed to just watch them up and leave without you when their hand is extended as Newt’s was? When they’re offering you an out of your miserable life, and instead an invitation to what you assumed would be a nice quiet life with someone you loved and doing things you loved with them? Are you supposed to say no to joining the person you have grown to care the most about? 
You were yanked out of your thoughts as the loud metal doors were peeled open by two large, muscular men clad in armor and wands out ready to strike if you made even one off move. You couldn’t help but wonder if all that was truly necessary for you: a small man with no capacity to fight back. Good lord, you couldn’t even get rid of spiders. All you could do was ignore them and wish them on their merry way. 
You stood, the shackles hung off of your wrists and ankles. The rusted chain clattered against the cement floors, scratching against your already pounding head. You trudged with the two large men trailing close behind you. They poked at your back every once in a while when you were dragging from exhaustion. 
You three arrived at the large wooden double doors. They creaked as the men opened it to reveal you to the man that hasn’t left your mind in years. 
You took in every aspect of Newt with a gasp. His arms were limp and pale from all the hours they had been hung up against the wall. He was on his knees, but his ankles, bloody and bruised, sat chained to the wall just as his wrists were. Blood drained out of them, you were sure they were tingling with discomfort. He didn’t look up, leaving you to look at his knotted, messy hair. Strands flew everywhere, it didn’t even have its usual shape and part. His dozens of layers of clothes had been removed. He stood limply in his tousled white button down and brown straight legged pants. Both clothing items were ripped at the seams and ruffled beyond the familiarity of Newt’s well-dressed and ironed appearance. 
“Oh, Newtie,” You groaned at the sight of him. Rage filled your veins. You suddenly began to rethink your bargain, wondering if these awful people who had already done this to him would keep their part and let him go after all this. 
Newt looked up with wide eyes at the sound of your voice echoing off of the brick walls. His eyes were swollen and red. His cheeks were patterned in purple and red. Hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes. He struggled at the chains, trying to stand up and move towards you but, of course, he was to no avail. “Y/N,” he called out hoarsely, tears threatening his eyes. You ran towards him, the guards obviously wanting to stop you but they let it happen knowing what was to come. 
“Newt, goodness, my sweet,” You cooed, lightly rubbing your hand over his wounded cheeks as you examined him. He winced slightly as you grazed the open skin but overall he refused to look away from you, shocked to see you in front of him. “Are you okay? Lord- obviously you’re not. It’s okay, alright? I-It’s gonna be over soon, okay?” You hushed your tone, wanting to save all your words for him and only him. 
His bloodied wrists caught your eye, “Can we- Can we please get this bullshit off of him? God,” You hollered out into the echoed room. The chains released themselves, magically, of course, and Newt fell into your arms. He struggled to snake his own limp limbs around your waist. You felt his shaking body and breath and nearly broke down. 
You continued to hold him close, a hand keeping his head in the crook of your neck and another keeping him upright in your arms. “I’m so sorry,” you continuously whispered into his hair that was still soft as ever despite it all. “I love you so much, I’m so sorry.” 
“Now,” A voice boomed from behind you. “Would you like to break the news to him, dearest? Or, shall I?” 
You ignored the threatening voice - the voice from the man who’s at fault for the crimes committed against the two. You only continued whispering your hushed apologies. You reassured Newt, in between quiet sniffs, that he was going to be okay and that it would all be over soon. That he wouldn’t have to worry anymore and he could continue to forget this. 
Newt, listening to your every word and absorbing it (grateful that he gets to hear it again at all), peaked over your shoulder at the presence who had walked in. Neither of the two had seen the man’s face. He stayed hidden under his black, hooded cloak. A mask sat over his face, keeping anyone from seeing him. 
Newt watched the man, blurred from his tears, take several steps in the room. After hours and hours of the torturing done to him by this man, he couldn’t even find the strength in him to do much more than look and groan. He happily let you rock yourselves back and forth as you chanted comforting phrases into his ear for only him to hear, and ran your fingers through his hair, and left your warm heavy hand in the middle of his back and rubbed it in small circles. 
“I suppose I’ll take that as a plea for me to tell him.” The voice boomed out once more. 
Your eyes couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. You quietly sobbed, muttering, “Please, don’t be mad. I love you so much, I’m so sorry.” 
“The little muggle has offered himself in exchange for your peace. For your freedom.” You could hear a smile in the man’s voice as he spoke of your bargain. You could also very clearly hear a sharp gasp from Newt, as he began to moan in disagreement. “Yes, we haven’t decided what to do with him, yet, but-! I am a generous man, myself, so I have decided to make the deal with him.” 
Newt struggled but managed to push himself away from your loving hold. “No, I-I don’t agree with this.” He managed to squeak out. His ragged voice from all the screaming you had heard him do from down the corridor shook and let a cold shake travel through your spine. 
“Yes, well,” The man with the booming voice behind you turned and made his way out of the door. “I thought I’d be kind and let you say goodbye. We’ll be back for you soon enough.” His uncaring voice sent rage through Newt. His fist clenched but he was too weak to do much of anything. 
The door slammed shut leaving you two alone with one another. “No,” Newt began but you wouldn’t let him finish.
“Love, I can’t let them hurt you anymore than they already have. Or the creatures. You get to leave with them, I made sure of that.”
“N-No, but,” He gulped, doing his best to soothe his scratchy throat. “I-I don’t get to leave with you,”
“That’s okay-,”
“No! It’s n-not okay.” His eyelids fluttered and his mouth twitched at the ends.
“Yes, it is,” You moved your hands to hold his cheeks. His head struggled to stay up with the weight of gods pushing him down. “You’re gonna be okay and the creatures are going to be okay and that’s what matters.”
“No! I-I-I won’t be okay!” He let out a pained sob. The waterfalls escaped his green eyes.
“You will. And you’ll live a nice quiet life like you said you would.” The smile that graced your lips was filled with nothing but pain and Newt saw right through that.
He stayed silent for a moment. “I don’t want to be okay without you. I don’t want to live a ‘nice quiet life’ without you. That-That is just no life at all, one without you.” 
Salty drops of water streamed down your face at his words. What could you even say to that? You’ve been telling yourself you are doing this for him but it’s not as if you would be anything less than angry if he were doing the same for you. 
“There-There must be a-another way.” Newt shook his head, refusing to believe this was the reality he was going to have to accept. He kept his eyes trained on you the whole time as he took in every detail, anxious this was going to be the last time he saw your face. He absorbed your skin and where it wrinkled. He memorized every divet in your imperfect perfect complexion. How your eyes were swollen and red from rubbing them all day. The way the light reflected off of your mesmerizing eyes. How insanely beautiful you looked in every way all of the time. He couldn’t believe he scored someone as gorgeous as you, inside and out. Fully and completely beautiful. 
“Newt,” You whispered his name, afraid if you said it any louder then the name would escape the two of you and run off somewhere it shouldn't be. “I love you. You are going to be okay. You are resilient and stubborn - I know you can do it.”
“I-I don’t want to, Y/N.” He sighed taking you in. 
“I know, I’m sorry.” You whispered as the doors burst open again with a slam. You rushed back into his arms for one final moment where you could feel safe.
“Please, don’t leave me. Don’t do this to me,” 
“I love you so much, Newtie. To the moon and back.”
“I-I love you, too.” 
The hushed words exchanged between the two were cut short as the big men came to pry you and Newt off of each other. You continued to fight to reach him, but your strength was nothing in comparison and you were only left reaching your hand out as the space between you two grew. Newt continued to scream and holler, even gathering the will to stand and jog after them. But, of course, he was overpowered by yet another unnecessarily strong guard. 
The last thing you saw of Newt was him on his knees, screaming your name and pleas for mercy.
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pvnks0ul · 11 months
Text
FRICTION (18+)
✦ Riri Williams x Fem!Reader
⚠️: very detailed description of making out + its kinda nasty ngl, literally no plot, real short (sryyy)
ʚ repost because I lowk hated everything about the first oneɞ
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She watched your thighs swish as you moved over to her bed, patting the spot next to you and wasted no time crossing her room to you, sitting where you signalled her to. The rise in tension when your body turned to face her did not slip past either of you.
You opted for not explaining yourself as pulled her in closer by the back of her head so you could comfortably kiss up her neck and to that spot below her ear, sucking something dark red in it's place before blowing cool air over it and reveling in the way she shivered.
She sighed out at the constant contact on her soft spot and let her body slouch into you a little. Her deep brown eyes were blown wide as they fluttered shut, her long appendages rubbed at your hips. You decided to seize her moment of weakness as you pecked over her cheeks, holding her head back up before pressing your lips against her slightly chapped ones. Her arms opened on their own for you to crawl onto her lap.
Your pace was agonizingly slow. Way too slow for Riri but she was too blissed out to even think about fighting for that kind of control right now, so you got to have your fun.
You pulled away from the kiss to watch how Riri chased after your lips with a huff of disapproval only to grant her a second one, this time placing messy open mouthed kisses against her spit slicked lips while she leaned her head back for a more appeasing angle. The only sound that could be heard was the nasty smacking that bounced off the walls.
you stuck your tongue out, licking and prying between her lips desperately, you felt Riri smile dazedly against you and it only frustrated you more. You went back to nibbling on her lips letting pleas and whines slip through until you felt her mouth open slightly around yours, moaning when you felt Riris wet tongue slide through your lips with ease, caressing your own, you leaned down to give her more so she could explore your mouth however she wanted. Riri was starting to feel lightheaded from both the lack of air and the adrenaline rush the heated moment gave her but, with the first sign that she was retreating you closed your lips around the muscle, licking against it as you kept her in your mouth.
Riri grunted into you before bringing your faces closer so she could kiss you once more, finally pulling away and when her eyes flickered open your doe set was already on her.
Her pupils were huge- atleast twice the size they were before and her bottom lip was throbbing from how sore it was.
You were too busy slurring out demands for her to explain why she stopped, to care what was going on with your puffy lips since she stalled your plan, once again.
"So fucking sneaky", She stared into your soul with the smugest look itching onto her elated face.
Your cheeks heat up as you shake your head to deny her claims. Face now, safely hidden in the space between her shoulder and neck. A pathetic excuse of words tumbled out your lips before you said something she could actually understand, "just missed you."
Riri fell into her comforters and adjusted your position ontop of her so you were sitting directly over her groin, not missing the little dots of wetness from your leaking panties changing the color to a dark shade of her light grey sweats.
She started rubbing your thigh, her cold veiny hand found its way up to the edge of your leg, massaging the round of your ass before squishing the flesh between her fingers because she knew it always made your brain fuzzy.
"Mhm." she agrees, fondling with the ends of your tanktop, your studded buds pressing against the fabric only tempting her to rip it off with nothing but the bones of her teeth despite it being much simpler to just toss it to the side.
Riris cold fingertips trace up your hips and further up your side through the inside of your shirt.
your head flung up at the chilling contact of her hand covering your nipple and kneading as much of your breast in one hand as she could, her palm rubbing over it with just enough friction that you were starting to feel pain down under from how aggressively you'd just clenched around absolutely nothing.
You refused to make eye contact, balling the cloth of her pants into your fists to hold yourself up as you grinded your hips down, twitching when the fabric caught the tip of your clit, your bottom lip trapped itself under your teeth, "Ririi~~" you mewled with your back arched so deep that now your exposed lower abdomen was also touching her.
You were immediately reprimanded with an open hand striking your bottom once on both sides, only having the energy to release a weak gasp, you felt the waterworks coming soon after you corrected yourself and met her sights.
"So much better, baby." she praised almost sarcasticly while rubbing over the numb globes.
"I was missing you too."
And her garage didn't see her again till two days later.
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Inspired by this masterpiece I came across on Pinterest🙇🏾‍♀️
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ackerifle · 7 months
Note
Captain Levi x prisoner of war reader please 😊 🙏
spoils of war!
yan. captain levi ackerman x fem captain. reader (ft. special operations squad)
+ CW. — au: canon adjacent, war crimes, treason, imprisonment, abuse of power & authority: mistreatment/abuse of pow, non-sexual nudity, choking, restraints & hot iron branding, uncharacteristically long post because it’s combined with another work i was making; not proof-read.
it came as no surprise that paradis island was capable of producing and preparing such an overwhelming abundance of competent and proficient soldiers. even if many civilians had initially criticized their old-fashioned choice of weaponry, their contentious plays on the battlefield, and even their morales as a stand-alone concern in itself; their doubts would soon be long forgotten once the soldiers had returned, claiming their first victory that would soon become countless victories. the war may still have yet to be won, but it is no secret that lady luck certainly favored the survey corps’ soldiers with all she had.
and that is precisely why levi had so easily been able to whisk you away with not so much as a glance from his subordinates and superiors alike, during an attack no less. in retrospect, you should have adamantly defended your right to fall back on this particular mission to your commander, should have let this great burden fall onto the shoulders of one of your fellow captains, and have been done with the whole situation entirely. but there was much more for you to prove to your commander and newfound nation than your other marleyan peers.
even if you had demonstrated your worth as a valuable asset time and time again, had gotten your hands dirty for the sake of marley’s name and conquest, serve your own motherland and its peoples only to turn your back on them halfway through the war; you would remain the only ‘foreigner,’ in power, a potential traitor in the eyes of soldiers who were your supposed comrades. if you could betray once, you could betray again— and those who held such leery and low beliefs of you simply could not be reasoned with.
but the judgment and distaste that was made very well clear to you by the marleyan military was nothing in comparison to levi's contempt. actually, it was captain levi now, although that isn’t such a shocking revelation when you take into account that you had also been promoted to captain status during your years away from home. however, your title was a gift from marley, not paradis, and that alone made all the more difference.
you hadn’t remembered him when the two of you came face to face after half a decade. when all of your soldiers had either met their final fates or been broken down with wounds beyond repair, captured and detained; you too, had fallen with them. and when levi had stormed down the ghastly corridor of deadmen and far worse to reap his reward of the fight well won, he had found you. the first thing he noticed was that you looked better, happier. far happier than he could’ve ever dreamed to see you when you were still in paradis— even with the absolutely disgusting mud, grime, dirt, blood, and shit smothered onto your raw and tender skin, with injuries that were likely already infected and guaranteed to last you a lifetime of scars, and well over half of your comrades-in-arms deceased. for someone who was just about to lose everything, you seemed so alive.
at the time, he had approached you wordlessly. slowly trekking his way down to your pathetic and forlorn figure, limp with lassitude and slumped in defeat in a messy pool of your own blood. given enough thought, levi thinks he must’ve looked angry back then. teeth grinding together behind a disturbing sneer, and eyes left wide open until they felt dry enough that he may as well have cried; levi acted far quicker than even his own thoughts could. as the end of his blade dipped beneath your chin, experimentally tapping the sharp side against your neck before raising the entire weight of your head until you could face him.
for but a moment's time, something vulnerable had flashed through levi’s eyes, and he remembered this feeling from his youth, that of a scared boy. his relentless heart wouldn’t stop in its persistence to beat out of his rib cage, and his sentiment, his fondness for you had resurfaced with bone chilling ardor. he was rendered completely, and wholly speechless. mouth agape and stunned into silence, but levi must have let your name slip from his lips in a voiceless whisper, because you finally opened your eyes, “do- do i, know you.” and so you had forgotten all about him.
you truly had done something so utterly unforgivable. leaving him all alone and abandoned while he remained under the unanswered pretense that you were taken; only to have been double backing on paradis the entire time, while he was the only one suffering, left in egregious shambles over your absence. so now he was going to do something unforgivable to you.
“get up.” levi always finds a way to announce his presence before making his way down to your cellar— as if the sound of him (unnecessarily) slamming the rickety door open and stomping on the the concrete steps wasn’t enough for you to catch the hint. a faint window of yellow light from above could be seen framing his silhouette on the uneven stone ground, and you brace yourself for whatever words of wisdom levi has so graciously decided to enlighten you with today, “it’s your lucky day.”
biting back a mirthful huff and an equally incredulous leer, you study his next words carefully, “we’ve got visitors coming today.” you’re quite observant of how he intentionally takes his time when it comes to unlocking your cellar door, his eyes don’t leave you, as if he enjoys seeing you imprisoned behind bars, and it makes your skin crawl, “visitors?”
your copycat repetition was intended to be silent, though you can’t help but ponder his statement aloud. there is something odd here, levi slides the door open and enters the caged room with you, you don’t know what it is, he grabs you by the arm far too intimately for someone holding a hostage, no— you know what it is; his voice, levi doesn’t bother to close the cellar door as he guides you down the ill lit, damp and dreary hallway, he almost sounds like he’s looking forward to having these ‘visitors’ coming today.
“you’ll be happy to see them.” as if reading your mind, levi offered his ominous words of assurance, if one could even call them that. opting to ignore his response in favor of studying your surroundings, partially because you weren’t conscious for the trip down, and partially to soothe your nerves, you have distant memories here— “familiar to you yet? the old headquarters’ basement.”
levi bites his tongue to refrain from adding in a sardonic jab about how you would have been there to witness the construction of the new headquarters, the symbol of paradis island’s first victory in the war, if you had simply stayed. but levi trusts that he’s spent enough time re-indoctrinating your pasts together with the days he’s been granted leave to tend to his war trophy. but his heart still aches every time he remembers your neglectful memory was due to your own carelessness, nothing to do with marley brainwashing you, or any sort of militaristic torture into subservience. was he that insignificant to you that over the span of five short years, you would think no more of him?
the two of you seem to recall your trainee days on paradis very differently, and the notion itself puts levi in a sour mood, “hurry up, the ropes don’t make you fucking immobile.” he barks with a shove in between your shoulder blades, “cuffs with enough leeway for me to move a single centimeter at a time? how accommodating!” levi shoots you a dark glare, “behave.”
it leaves your body sore when you come to a standstill atop the steps, vision straining at the introduction of an unhealthy combination of natural and artificial lighting on your luminescent-deprived eyes. levi takes advantage of your poorly adjusting eyes, suavely escorting you into a new room. there is something that you notice immediately upon entering the unrecognizable area, it is the smell of smoke. instinctively, your eyes frantically search the room to locate the source, landing on a small coal fire, all the while levi continues to usher you forward until you bump into a wooden surface.
peering down, you’re greeted by a low, yet unusually and unconventionally capacious table. each corner holds an individual ring of rusted metal, hooked to the ends with suspicious purpose. but before you can dwell on it too much, the force of levi’s hands on your shoulder and waist have you coming to your senses. with one calculating motion, he swivels you around, turning your body until you’re faced towards him, and although your hands are tied together behind your back, you struggle like you can touch him. levi is unfazed by whatever attempts you can bring yourself to muster to aid in escaping his grasp, dropping his hands to your torso with dangerous constriction before slamming you down onto the table with all his might.
your lower back takes the brunt of the force, and by god does it hurt. the edge of the table digs spitefully into your back and spine, causing you to momentarily scream in agony. and in an instant, levi distracts you from the pain when his hands start roaming your body, starting with your shirt. when he gets closer, the severity of the situation finally sinks in, and you only hope you’re wrong about what will happen next. wildly moving in his hold does little when your limbs are bound, and your legs are lifted too high from the floor for you to even do anything, and despite still maintaining full control over your movements, levi lets out an annoyed grunt either way.
his right hand quickly descends down onto your neck, enveloping your airway with a firm squeeze, enough to get you to stop violently staggering about. levi is more concerned with the position this has now put him in, only a menial worry, really; unbuttoning your shirt with one hand proves to be rather difficult, so he’ll have to tear at the fabric. like it was an ordinary sunday morning, he is more worried with the tattered frays and cloth pieces your blouse will discard, than you, a literal captive, scrambling to get out from beneath him. he decides he will both unbutton and rip the shirt, using his thumb to sloppily shove the buttons through while also dragging the article further down your body.
“fuck, don’t. this is inhumane, even for an enemy soldier!” it hadn’t crossed his mind that you may have taken this the wrong way, his intentions that is. but you did give him an idea for another day, “well, you aren't quite a soldier— no, not even a civilian of paradis anymore, now are you?”
levi halts his movements, but doesn’t release you, instead, feigning a thoughtful pause before continuing, “but that doesn't matter, even if you miraculously find your way back to marley, they won't want you back, not after i'm done with you.” your heart drops, and your thrashing increases tenfold, causing his grip on your throat to loosen with every move, but levi is able to ignore it with his determination to get those insufferable buttons undone.
the sound of a door and hurried footsteps interrupt any frenetic and hysterical thought you’re having, even levi tilts his head in the direction of the clamoring, “hm, it seems they’ve arrived.”
casual chatter could be heard nearing the two of you, and when voices were revealed you were horrified. gathering at the open doorway was a group of four soldiers, or so you had presumed, as they had the same matching uniform as levi. there were three men, and one woman; all of which who are holding something. two with the same rope that had your arms and legs tied together, one with a singular iron rod, and the lady with a water basin and a washcloth resting halfway inside the bucket and halfway on the outside. and what terrified you even further was that they seemed unperturbed by the sight before them, it’s almost as if their smiles grew wider.
“sorry we’re a little late, captain!” the woman chirped, lowering the water basin in her hands to a more comfortable position to allow gravity to uphold its weight, rather than her arms, “it’s about damn time you all finally show up, restrain her.” levi was blunt and to the point, glossing over greetings entirely, and aiming his index finger in your direction.
there was a lot going on, and levi disappeared behind the three figures approaching you in the midst of it all. the short-haired woman must have placed the basin on the floor, because her hands were definitely free when she reached for your shirt, “it’s been so long since we’ve last seen you, you know.” how she had managed to keep such a cheery tone and face while also single-handedly witnessing your torment and anguish was beyond you, and you leaned away from her touch.
“yeah, captain said you forgot all about us.” it seemed that distancing yourself from the chipper lady had landed you into the trap of another, this time, a blond man with a blithe though hurt grin on his face, “we’ve got so much to tell you.” the tallest of the three added, carelessly placing a hand on the buckle of your belt.
entering your peripheral vision was the final soldier of what you presumed to be levi’s squad, he had been the one carrying the iron rod in his hands, now absent, as he made his way towards you, finding a spot next to the woman, “a lot happened while you were away.”
that’s right, you remember them. these soldiers were of the plethora of cadets that had enlisted in the military when you and levi had graduated. you had only encountered them a handful of times, but they were recurring guests in your life thanks to levi preparing for his promotion, the one you never had the chance to witness for yourself due to your leave. who knew they would be the same people to disgrace your pride and dignity by stripping you naked, even if they were much gentler than levi ever cared to be with you, there was no greater comparison than a pack of hungry wolves. and it was so draining to fight them, you tried and tried, but when the ropes had come out, you gave in.
and their names, they were: petra, eld, gunther, and oluo— which you had only picked up thanks to their small-talk with one another as they defiled you. shutting your eyes to avoid dwelling on the feeling of having your arms and legs strewn out, wrists and ankles bound by the rope that had been threaded through those worn out coils. all attention was focused on your shallow breathing, praying to disassociate hard enough to block out their jovial conversation. but you had picked up on something else, the burning coals. expectedly, the room was airless and sultry with a running fire and six people confined to such a small room. but this scent was different, like you could smell the heat, and that heat smelled like iron.
snapping your eyes open, you raise your head as much as your neck would allow it in your pitiful position, desperately scanning the room for answers. and you get them when you finally hear levi’s voice, “grab her arms and legs, i didn’t get this shit custom made for her to fuck it up.” readily, as if anticipating this specific command, petra and oluo had taken hold of your calves, while eld and gunther grabbed the inner side of your elbows. when levi leisurely drew near the side of the wooden table, the only thing you could see was the iron bar in his hands, the black metal now a light ash grey, emanating heat even with the distance levi was holding with you.
“wait, stop. get that fucking thing away from me!” the only control you had over your own body seemed to be your mind and mouth. even when you banged against the table, pulling away from the left side of the table where levi menacingly stood, recoiling as much as you could through the grip of the four soldiers and the ropes.
if it was forgiveness you wanted, you wouldn’t get it. that much levi would make sure of. if you wanted to run away? to be disobedient? then he’d reward your bad behavior with a deservingly bad punishment. carefully, levi lowered the scorching iron pole to align with the left side of your hips, though he wasn’t cautious for your sake, of course not, you deserved this and much more, but because he refused to let your little tantrum screw this up. you could feel the metal before it even touched your skin, burning away any body hair that may have been there to a crisp, and the sheer radiating from it had you screwing your eyes shut. you braced yourself, preparing to feel the searing iron, but it never came. levi contemplated whether or not he wanted to do it slowly, or to startle you after letting fifteen seconds pass, he fancied the latter.
it was so much more painful than you thought it was going to be. the sweltering hot iron rod blistered your sensitive skin, and you shrieked and cried in pain. it was scalding hot to the point it felt as if the metal was actually ice cold, and it pressed stiffly against your side, sinking into the fat of your hips. you had screamed until you couldn’t no more, until your voice cracked and your vocal cords bled, something the soldiers restricting you seemed to ignore. but the smell, the smell of your flesh being burned to the point it would leave a fresh, bloody mark. it was nauseating, and you gagged and heaved, but nothing to come of it. and despite how hellish it was, how it caused you unfathomable pain, caused you to convulse and spasm in your restraints, the pressure of the iron rod only lasted five seconds.
levi had counted, retrieving the metal pole and alleviating the pressure of its marking on your body after five maliciously counted seconds. you couldn’t tell if it hurt worse when the cold air nipped at the new wound than it did when it had been applied to your skin. tears fell from your eyes, and you don’t recall when you had started crying, but your face was wet with those salty droplets. shuffling resonated within the room, and the weight on your limbs was released. how tired you were, defeatedly laying your head until you could feel the rough surface of the wooden table. eyelids getting heavier by the second, you dared glance at the brand on your hip, the two letters ‘LA,’ bold and clear.
if you had the energy to, you would have flinched when a hand holding onto a lightly wetted rag came into contact with the new marking. the hand was tentative and mindful, applying little to no pressure on your hip, but just enough to cleanse the burn. you could have sworn you heard the sound of humming, but you knew you heard levi’s voice, “if you so much as think of betraying me again, i’ll do more than just mark you with my initials.”
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Ever wonder how in the hell Jay's death goes? well do I HAVE A STORY FOR YOOUUUU!!! INTRODUCING HIS NEW CAUSE OF DEATH WOAH!!!! !
TW: Alcohol abuse, Drug abuse, suicide/suicidal tendencies, self harm, overdose mention, gore, ???
Quick note?? All of this is canon, yes he dies like this ;P LOLZIES!!!!! ALso if its all over the place i apologize i am fighting a moth while writing this /srs kinda curious to know how anyone reacts to it, so... if you wanna put that down or make a post go for it, honestly im kinda considering having this be my closing post but idk yet lol </3
The sound of a gunshot can never be heard over crowds laughing and music blasting. Fireworks in the air, water from the pool splashing... The loud BANG deaf to everyone's ears. How could we know that? The only way it was learned was finding the body of Mr. Jay Gatz. In the highest point of his manor, overlooking the crowd below...
Let's start from square one.
Jay felt... Unwanted. Alone, if you will. As a man who's built himself and his business up only for the sake of overthrowing others, he wasn't the most enjoyed man around. Normally he would've handled this by now. The dread, the self pity, everything he had thought about himself was always kept inside. Why not now? Standing alone, pathetic... In the office he had to himself. Bookcases covering the walls of obscure novels that he hasn't even read, a desk holding messy stacks of various papers, making him feel even worse about himself. A never ending ringing phone before he cut it, the gusts of wind blowing from the outside rustling against the curtains behind him. What a pitiful life.
An outsider. That's all he was, wasn't he? Standing up on that balcony of his, absent to anyones attention besides the solemn glow of the moon above him, and even that was leaving him soon. The fireworks lit up the mansion, the people below, the water, and the champagne bottles crashing and being tossed around to be used. He lit a cigarette, holding it for just a moment then he took a drag.
...After another drag, and another, and another... He put out the cigarette... On his own arm. He winced at the burning feeling against his skin, but another scar wouldn't hurt... Right? Scars were littered all over his body anyway, just another part of him to be ruined. He lit another cigarette then walked inside to grab a bottle of vodka from his own personal storage of alcohol. Never touched unless he was feeling more pathetic than other nights.
Ha, maybe this time he can drink himself to death. Or maybe Perkins will call the ambulance again. Jay hoped to whatever god there was above he wouldn't survive this time. His shaky hands moved to the bottle, bringing it up to his lips before pausing. A week of sobriety.
...He can restart another day. Or in another life, perhaps.
He took a drink. The burn of the alcohol going down his throat being a feeling of discomfort but satisfaction was one that he had somehow managed to miss. Gatz went back out to the balcony, drinking away his sorrows before he couldn't even find himself having any emotion anymore. The rich man could barely hear the knocks at the door, let alone the sound of a man calling for his name.
Soon enough, the door opened unbeknownst to Jay. The only thing that managed to get his attention was a quiet voice coming from the darkened room, lit by only one light. But now... There was another. Then another light on as the person flicked on the light switches. ...Perkins.
➳ ❜ Ah, Jay! I was worried about you, sir! Are you doing alright up here? It's quite... Quiet up here. ❛
No response. Jay turned back to stare into nothing.
➳ ❜ Oh, I see... Maybe you should sit down, I can grab you some tea and- ...Well, maybe not any medicine, I don't want to... Let that happen again. ❛
It wasn't needed to be discussed anymore, it was obvious Perkins was referring to the prior... Attempts Jay had made. In an attempt, Perkins had tried his best to hide anything that Jay could use to end things. As of now, it was working. With a slow approach, Perkins had walked over to Jay. Placing down the lantern he held with a small blow to put it out, he found himself standing next to his boss. Or, rather, his semi-adopted son.
The silence felt like a million years. Perkins, thinking of how to approach this properly, feeling the fatherly need to sit there and just be someone for Jay to lean on, but he knew it wasn't a night for that. All he knew is that he could NEVER leave Jay alone in a state like this. He heard a small mutter of a sob coming from next to him.
╰┈➤ ❜ ...Perkins... Can we go inside? ❛ 
➳ ❜ Of course my boy. ❛
Jay tiredly swung his arm around Perkins shoulders as he got guided back into the office, letting the shorter man take the vodka from his bruised and shaky hand. Within the next minute or so, he found himself sitting in the rather comfortable office chair he had right infront of his desk. Almost immediately he put his arms down on the desk and put his head down on them, shielding his face in some form of fear of what'll happen next.
➳ ❜ Jay- ❛
╰┈➤ ❜ You can leave now Perkins. ...I'm fine on my own. ❛ 
➳ ❜ I'm worried, my boy. I can't just leave you like this. Not because it's my job but it's because I care- ❛
Jay's body tensed. Perkins froze as he could practically feel the cold emotion that came from the man right next to him.
╰┈➤ ❜ You don't have to lie to me, Perkins. ❛ 
Silence. Jay thought he had left, but he hadn't. When Jay lifted up his head he saw Perkins sitting quietly next to him. ...Looks like he's here for a while.
╰┈➤ ❜ ...Am I gonna be left alone forever, Perkins? ❛ 
➳ ❜ Oh- of course not! You have plenty of people who would love to be around you - ❛
╰┈➤ ❜ ...Then why has everyone left me? ...Everyone except you. I can't keep being alone like this. ❛ 
➳ ❜ I know, I know... And I'm not getting any younger... But trust me, I won't leave you all alone. You don't deserve that. ❛
╰┈➤ ❜ ... ❛ 
Jay stood up, then went to grab another bottle of vodka. Perkins got up to take the bottle, only for Jay to look down with a look he has only seen a few times. He was desperate for some form of numbing. ...Perkins sighed. He held up a single finger to signal he can only have one glass.
Jay agreed.
He got the glass and drank it quickly as if it were medicine. And it has been his medicine. Ever since he was younger, more vulnerable. Manipulated, oblivious, it's always been his escape.
╰┈➤ ❜ ...If I were to give you the rest of my wealth, would you let me die? ❛ 
Silence. Shock. A beat went by.
➳ ❜ Of course not. I wouldn't let you die at all. ❛
╰┈➤ ❜ Oh. ❛ 
Jay was quiet again. He exhaled and took a drag of the cigarette he had lit earlier. Blowing it out, he looked to the floor with some thought. Jay then opened a drawer in the desk, rummaging around then he let a metal item clatter into the desk.
A gun.
Perkins froze. He took a step forward and Jay put his hand on the gun. Not as a warning to Perkins, but to himself. The blond male slowly picked it up and showed that it was loaded.
╰┈➤ ❜ I was told I needed therapy. You know, I think I’m too far gone. What’s the point of it if im just a lost cause? I’ve been crying and telling too many people my sob story. At this point this… This is better. ❛
➳ ❜ No you’re not too far gone, Jay. …Put down the gun, okay? We can talk about this- ❛
The now slowly breaking millionaire then stood up sharply, stepping back. He took the gun along with him. Then… He snapped. Immediately bursting into tears, he found himself breaking every pushing second. His hands shaking more, he held the gun up to his own head.
╰┈➤ ❜ Talk about what, Perkins? How long have you tried to help me? I’ve been nothing but a waste of time, and god… God I BET if I just- if I just SHOT myself RIGHT NOW, NOBODY OUT THERE WILL HEAR OR CARE, RIGHT?! Who’d go to my funeral? You? Who else? Huh? ❛
Silence. Perkins simply walked over and hugged Jay, catching him off guard. Jays body tensed up again, trying to find a way to keep his composure but failing miserably. The gun slightly moved away from his head, then it sharply went back.
One last exhale, and one last sentence.
╰┈➤ ❜ If you want me to live another day, I need you to start running. Get to the nearest phone. ❛
God, why was he doing this? Why was he trying to help himself? He knew he’d die by then. Somehow, Perkins listened and immediately rushed to the nearest phone only to see Jay had cut the line, then opened the door to go outside. Jay stared.
The door closed, leaving Jay alone.
…Then the gun went off.
Silence. Darkness. Not a feeling. Just… emptiness.
When the paramedics got there Jay was already as dead as can be as he laid in Perkins arms. He had staged it as a murder, writing to Perkins in a final note to never specify it was suicide, but say it was homicide. The people wouldn’t care how he died.
The sight was grim. His only butler making an effort to help, holding him up as if he were still going to live. It was a desperate attempt, really, like a father begging to bring his son back from the dead. The once lively millionaire deceased, his body tense and the blood and brain matter pooling from his head onto the fur rug he had died on. His eyes were still open, only this time they were a monotone and distant blue with less saturation than ever. His skin was pale, suit tattered most likely from the fall. The cigarette lay on his hand, slowly burning at the skin. As he lay there, people were crowded around. Some were investigators, others were people who simply wanted to see. Others taking photos to post on the papers as soon as possible.
…And now Perkins was left to handle the rest of the work Jay had set up.
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