#let alone let anyone else hear it
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When you want to do a stream where you sing because it's relaxing to just sing songs but your mom said you're tone deaf once and tried to force you into classes because "no one will want to be around you while you're singing if you keep sounding like that, it'll get worse over time if you do nothing about it" and you never got over it
#been too scared to even record and listen to my own singing for literal years#like I genuinely dont even want to hear my own singing voice now#let alone let anyone else hear it#and I hate it because I find singing so relaxing#I love doing it#mini vent#mommy issues#moment ig
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at first getting diagnosed with cptsd was like, "yay my trauma has been validated (it always was valid)!" and i really thought that was going to be it, but then i started to do research as i do whenever i realize i have something and learned that!! the way i experience socialization is!! quite horrid actually!!
#i have had this stupid fucking rule for myself for years since i was little#''dont speak unless you're spoken to or else something bad will happen. nobody wants to hear what you have to say unless they ask''#I TELL MYSELF THAT ALL THE TIME????#AND I DIDNT REALIZE IT WASNT NORMAL#thats not something that healthy people think to themselves whenever they want to talk to people. they just talk to them#they dont tell themselves not to speak to people for fear of what may happen to them jesus christ spacie#i get so scared when i message anybody ANYTHING#bc everything and anything i wanna talk about feels so stupid why would anyone give a shit#staring at a funny joke i want to send someone for 30 fucking minutes before deleting it b/c my brain is like ''errmm who cares?''#''also they're going to yell at you for wasting their time!!!''#i sent my friend a meme once and had a panic attack (or maybe a flashback?? im still trying to figure out what they are) immediately after#this shit sucks dude. it sucks#at least im processing what happened to me. thats why it hurts so bad rn its been stockpiled for like.#2 decades#im not looking for any sympathy here im just putting it out there#so that anybody who feels the same way i do know they're not alone#ive been struggling everyday for like 2 months now (actually DEFINITELY longer)#it will get better. things just need to be taken one step at a time#i have gotten thru my worst days i have a 100% success rate#how many days have i been alive#7930#lightwork#lets keep it goin#vent#trauma tw#trauma mention#wrote this post thru a flashback btw!! dealing with them is getting easier#before i would be unable to function for days at a time!!!#with one of the most recent ones i had i was so in the thick of it i avoided everyone i knew for a week cuz i was convinced#i was an evil unlovable freak that only wanted to hurt people
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if life is categorized by Before Loss and After Loss then I exist in the before but with a countdown to the after. and the countdown is always always present and debilitating. the loss will be debilitating too but i cant help myself. i will always suffer twice.
#i cant let go of it. i cant even enjoy good moments without thinking about how they'll just be memories one day#how they're already memories since moments pass so fast#everything is I'll Miss This and i already miss it and i cant believe once you're gone you're gone forever#and ill never ever see you again. and your shell is in the ground but where did the rest of you go?#should i look at your body one last time? on one hand itll be the last time i see you.#on the other hand it will be the last time i see you.#and the memory of you will die with me too. as if neither ever existed#it impacts me so much too bc i dont feel close to anybody really...and i dont make friends easily#so whats going to happen when the people who have always been there arent there anymore?#im going to be alone for so much of my life.#i will record your voice so im ready for when i cant hear it from the source while also knowing it wont be enough and one day#ill be wishing it lasted longer. it could be 12 hours long and ill want more.#how do you surpass this? it hasn't even happened. when it happens i don't know what ill do. considering my whole life has been#the timer. the countdown. hours and hours of anticipatory grief#and then ill be next. me. some of all thats left of you. it cant be true.#sorry. this gets worse every single year and its been going insane lately#id surprisingly been managing it well for months somehow ! it wouldnt cross my mind...and now its there again#like it accumulated and its all coming out right now. ive been crying for hrs tonight and last night#one day his things will just be things. things ive made and given him will be in my hands again.#talkys#i want to go hug my dad but then ill just cry over how one day i wont be able to....! how do i store it? how do i save it?#how do i preserve it forever....even as i take my own last breath....#i cant believe im the only one of me. and my dad is the only one of him.#i wouldnt want to be reborn as anyone else. i cant believe one day i wont get to draw or eat or be comfy in bed anymore.#i cant take it !! im so scared. ill be scared until the end. and you wont be there to hold my hand. im going to be alone.#and none of those years of grief and joy and memories will matter.#i wonder if it would help to tell him about this. i need something to hold onto for when it happens. anything. but i also know it'll make i#hurt more; obviously. just another piece of him that'll be gone one day
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do you ever go do autism crazy for something you can feel it in ur chest. like it’s hard to breathe almost it’s making you gasp for breath and jump around physically. got an adrenaline rush thinking abt Kirigiri.
#GODDDDD. I LOVE HER SM AUTISM WOMAN.#I go insane thinking abt her and her life and how she develops in THH and past it#and how Makoto and her literally bring out the best AND worst in each other#and her narrative parallels w Byakuya. the way they’re so similar that they’re hypocrites for disliking each other#at first and then the way they’re indispensable in that they’re they only other one that Understands why they’re like that#I cannot word my thoughts for her nearly as coherently unfortunately so no paragraphs tonight. I’m just going to start growling like a dog#the way she fucking commands so much respect and control and how strong she is#and the fact that she is constantly reinforcing that strength by shoring up any weakness or vulnerability with terrifying effectiveness#that leaves her invulnerable but completely alone. and for a long time that seemed like a good thing#and she may even believe it is#but you hear the way she talks about her father and you realize she’s HUMAN. she doesn’t want to be an island all the time.#she has emotions just like anyone else and being viewed as though she doesn’t is incredibly alienating and reinforces her isolation#if she really didn’t care she wouldn’t still be mad that her father left her alone. it wouldn’t still pick at her the way it does#it wouldn’t drive her to abandon the entire purpose of her family by revealing herself as the Ultimate Detective in order to get to him#and then there’s Makoto and Byakuya challenging those aspects of her all over again#Byakuya sees the worst of her. he believes what she puts forth as herself and sees that ruthless cold efficiency#and he isn’t wrong to believe those things. as much as she wears a mask it isn’t fake that she has those qualities#but then comes Makoto who doesn’t see through her mask either but chooses to believe she must be human somewhere even if he’s not sure#he continues to trust her with absolutely no reason to and it feeds into her own ruthless efficiency by making him her Guinea out of sorts#but it also means there’s someone on the shoreline of her island. they want to come in. Will she let them?#that island is painful but not more painful than being vulnerable.#hhhh#I’m crazy
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sometimes i see analyses and theories on here where i'm just ....... choosing to stay silent and have to remember everything is up for interpretation and everyone is allowed to have different opinions
#this is not exclusively about the new s3 content but in general#i find it funny tho what one picture or scene can apparently mean just by certain angles or clothes#and here i am just happy we got some content and have barely processed it let alone be ready to analyse and theorize lol#it really is important to remember in fandom that there will be different opinions and mindsets and to still be respectful abt it#we can all coexist and have fun and we don't have to convince each other that mine/your opinion is the right one#discussions are nice and it's interesting to hear different perspectives and try to understand or come to a mutual conclusion#but sometimes you just disagree and that's okay#there is no right or wrong in fandom it's about having a good time#a reminder for myself and maybe for anyone else if they need it#yrtalk#personal
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Can I just say how DIFFICULT it is to resist the urge of saying 'would' or 'smash' whenever I see a fanart of George Washington? 🧍♂️
#american revolution#hamilton fanart#george washington#hear me out#anyone else?#send help#weird thoughts#please let me be free#please let me die#please leave me alone
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Mulling over the idea of Kae in the Abyss verse slowly transforming into an Abyss herald or smth bc of the influence of all the Abyssal energy he'd absorbed and used, but instead of simply accepting it; he's utterly terrified and the Instant someone, anyone, finds him partway corrupted, him just Immediately reaching out to them so desperately, pride be damned, and begging them in tears to stay, to not leave him alone, like a child craving solace in the face of thunder-
#☆ ┆ ( .ooc. );#//It's about#//The lad who refuses to show his vulnerabilities heckin BREAKING as he loses his humanity#//Bc he CAN'T keep his composure; bc he's realizing just how SCARED he really was all along#//And the consequences/risk he thought he could take for the sake of 'finding a way to save his people' he's realizing are Too Much#//Finally hitting him how much he tried to take on; how damn much was put on his shoulders#//And how ALONE he wound up in the end; in pursuit of a heritage he desperately craved to know; people he was told were his responsibility#//That he OWED it to those people; being one of the last & most willing to 'do right' by them; his life SHOULD mean nothing compared to the#//& as such casting aside everything he knew bc he truly believed it was his burden/task to bear; no one else should be dragged into it#//Distrusting that anyone would take him or his Purpose seriously if he told them of his conflict; or worse; would react so BADLY to his#//Like how his most important person; his Sworn Brother; had half a decade ago#//Or perhaps he'd feared that if he told them; they could talk him OUT of following through with it#//And he'd let it all be; even Knowing the things he does; dreaming and hearing what he does#//Forever holding the guilt nestled deep in his heart until the day he dies#//But would that lifetime of simmering heartache compare to his solitude now? Cold; trembling; terrified beyond anything he's felt before?#//Idk; thinkings thinkings#//He knows not if he will be the same when it's all done. He might ask the person to mercy kill him; might ask them to save him#//Depends on how safe they make him feel; maybe
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hot take (aka headcanon) but I kinda think that nishiki and kiryu’s relationship pre-split wasn’t on both sides platonic/familial or fully romantic; I feel like nishiki had a thing for him (not sure if he fully realized it though) and that he had developed feelings for kiryu over the course of a good long time that were deeply confusing on their own, but even more so considering they would’ve been hard to sort out with what could just be attributed to close friendship or a familial-type bond.
and on the other side of this, kiryu was utterly oblivious and never thought to question what they had as being anything other than a close friendship or familial-type relationship or whatever it was being called out loud (we know kiryu, he’s blunt as hell and takes things at face value– not the best at reading between the lines) hence why the split between them, though both were clearly hurt a ton by it, hit nishiki harder and more acutely– because on top of losing the most important person in his life, which is bad enough, it would’ve crushed any tiny shred of hope he may have had to live out his long-time, perhaps even since-childhood fantasy of being by kiryu’s side forever as his one true confidant, in a more intimate way than as a friend.
#rambling#sad boy hours#this also ties into why I hc nishiki as being gay rather than bi for the most part (though both are absolutely valid and understandable)#won’t get into that here too much but yeah there’s just… a lot of tragic gay angst that can be associated with him and the way he handles m#(or doesn’t handle) their little… breakup and whatnot#and as for kiryu’s side of things. honestly if things went a different way than they did I don’t think something beyond friendship would be#out of the question. it’s just. I don’t think kiryu would’ve ever considered the concept because he’s so clueless#when it comes to relationships and romance and so on and furthermore because of the way he was brought up- which of course wouldn’t really#highlight the idea that falling for a guy (or vice versa) is even a possibility let alone that it’d be applicable to him and someone so#close to him and whatnot. learning about nishiki’s past feelings for him in a hypothetical post-kiwami situation I think would make#him short circuit. and to literally anyone else who knew about nishiki’s actions after the split and all it’d all click and make perfect#sense hearing that. but to kiryu it’d take some fuckin Time to process#I think the past would be in the past by whatever hypothetical future point this is but still its a lot to apply to some of the most#important and fundamental parts of/events of his life. hh. yeah. tack on some guilt if you wanna say kiryu would be with majima at that#point (however you define ‘with’– important part is It’s Not Straight) so the potential there- whatever it was- wasn’t totally nothing like#it would be if he was simply straight and thus it would’ve never been a possible relationship outcome#but. yeah. anyway. sorry I’m. I need to stop I’m going insane I think l#I hope I don’t sound too insane or controversial for this take gahdhshdh have mercy on me#it’s. it’s all just ideas. thoughts. in a game. in minecraft. etc#nishiki#kiryu#yakuza#long post
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the irony that Rymrgand is the god of entropy but he went out of his way to preserve the Glamfellen's souls so they're just constantly going through the cycle of Glamfellen instead the usual way of souls -- breaking apart, being stuck back together with parts of other souls to make a new one on Berath's Wheel before being sent back to Eora
Revan wouldn't necessarily want to fight him -- he's still a god after all, and she's no Watcher -- but she would have some Thoughts she'd want to tell Rymrgand
#Ryn rambles#the frustration I feel when I play something else but all I can think about is PoE#I love them both truly I do!#but I would like to think about something else for once thank you!!!!!#I also have Thoughts relating to Eothas; Waidwen's Legacy and the Hollowborn#if anyone want to hear that let me know#because it has been here for months#and it WILL NOT LEAVE ME ALONE
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None of my silverfin folks are Good, per se- they kill and maim and indulge killing and hurting and a number of them eat that which remains, in the right context. But also they’re friends, u see, and they can be so kind in spite of that. Given the right circumstances.
#lays here and thinks about marrow holding dexter so close and hesitating to let anyone but peipre close#thinks about how peipre does her best to sit and comfort someone that’s too distressed in the area- a casino can be overwhelming after all.#thinks about how phenga holds peipre and yarrow in her arms like she can smooth away the harsh edges of the world. even for just a moment#phenga going to Orion as he gets off work. taking his arm in her own and guiding xem in the late hours of the morning to eat and then to a#room. he doesn’t know her name but that’s the game of it. but somewhere along the line it became more than just a game. she’s so so very in#love with that teal and anybody that sees them at dinner can see it#silverfin putting new rules into place the instant they hear about how marrow almost got killed. it takes a while to work out the kinks in#the new routine but they saw the lines under phenga’s eyes in the nights after and they saw how peipre’s hands shook and they may not be#able to do much but they have to do something to try and keep it from happening again.#yarrow pulling silverfin aside to tell them that she saw their descendant. that she didn’t meet him very well but he exists. that she met#his captain and he’s okay. that silverfin didn’t condemn some poor grub by being in love#peipre leaning to just rest her arm agains marrow’s when he starts getting a bit too tense. a small reminder that she’s here- that if#everything goes wrong he doesn’t have to take it on alone. and sometimes that light contact is enough.#peipre giving dexter a hug and squeezing him tight for a moment. because as much as she tries to prepare there are some things she’s not#sure quite how to say. and maybe if she tries hard enough she can show him anyhow.#yarrow pulling peipre away from work when things start to get to her too much. making her take a moment to just let herself breathe. often#yarrow matches her breathing until she’s calmed down because peipre pats more attention to someone else than herself in times like that#lays facedown on the floor thinking abt these bitches being nice#silverfin casino#peipre#peipre charme#gotta go add that to all her posts sometime#marrow dahlia#khalia yarrow#dibsym argent#silverfin#miss#phenga arionn#Orion pulsar
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GUESS WHO’S BACK! this time, with a slightly different take on the prompt 🤣 Bio!Dad Bruce, Siblings Danny and Damian!! I know I said I was going to do twin!Damian, but it just fit better this way I think. I told you this prompt really gripped me, so please enjoy even more words on it!!
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Look. The only excuse Danny can give is that he's tired, alright? He's so, so tired. Matchsticks propping up his eyelids kind of tired. Five quiet seconds away from face planting into the ground kind of tired. Mistake the coat rack for his mom again kind of tired.
Beat this ghost into the ground if he doesn't put him back in his bedroom so he can finish his homework and finally get some sleep kind of tired.
Seriously, what the hell? He'd only just gotten back to his room after souping the fifth ectopus of the night (apparently there was some sort of migration happening and it just happened to coincide with the worst case of homework overload he's had since freshman year) when he was enveloped in a swirling mess of green and deposited in an ectoplasmic cage in some random ghost's lair. It's just not fair! If it doesn't rain, it pours, and the only constant in life is that Danny doesn’t ever seem to have an umbrella.
So, when Danny looks down and sees that he's still clutching his textbook and homework packet to his chest, and then looks around to see a few more cages containing a few more blurry looking people all milling around and banging on the ectoplasm in confusion, sees the ghost up the front in the middle of a monologue that Danny just knows is going to take forever, he does the only reasonable thing he can think of.
He does his homework.
Yes, he knows he's meant to be a hero, he knows he's meant to be helping these people escape, but come on! He's also an overworked high school student with several deadlines and a dwindling amount of detentions he can get before exclusion, so what choice does he really have?
The ghost doesn't even feel all that powerful, maybe on par with Boxy? He's got a sense for these things now—an annoyance metre, rather than his normal ghost sense—and from the weak pulse of ectoplasm surrounding him, the cheesy Sigmund Freud-looking therapist getup, and the very fact that he's still monologuing, Danny just knows. More annoying to deal with than an actual oh-shit-the-world-is-ending kind of problem. He could take this guy in his sleep.
Or, more accurately, he could take this guy on close to three hours of snatched sleep for the entire week.
So, sue him. He's using this time as independent study. He's doing his homework and there's nothing this smarmy, two-bit Doctor Phil ghost can do to stop him.
Actually, please don't sue him, Danny has this all in hand, he promises. As soon as he hears the other hostages make a sound, he'll abandon his homework and he'll soup the guy. Just let him do most of it first, please!
Decision made, Danny settles down and cracks open his textbook. Math time!
Hey, so turns out, math fucking sucks.
It's not long before Danny thinks this whole thing was a stupid idea and he kinda wishes he would just get expelled. Give him something broken and he’ll fix it. Give him a lab and some scrap metal and he’s pretty sure he can build whatever, just like his parents.
Getting these numbers into the right answer, however? Impossible! How in the name of all that is dead is he meant to do this?
He's sitting cross-legged on the floor of his cage, textbook split open and the pages from his packet scattered messily around him, head in his hands, when he hears a knock on his cage. A shiver rolls through him as a rush of ectoplasm powers through the walls, lighting it up in a pale glowing green.
“What? What do you want?” he grumbles, not even looking up. “Because if it’s not an easy explanation for the quadratic formula, I don’t wanna know.”
“Are you doing your homework?” The ghost’s voice is incredulous and Danny can feel him swoop down to the floor to get a closer look, but whatever, he still doesn’t look up. Instead, he focuses on trying to put the numbers into some semblance of order. “You should be concentrating on my game!”
“Oh, man, ordinarily I’d be so into blowing off my homework for whatever game you’ve got cooking, but if I get one more detention I’m pretty sure Mom will actually succeed in killing me and I don’t fancy going through that again, you feel?”
“Excuse me? I don’t think you understand the kind of position you’re putting your—”
“You have to do brackets before multiplication, right? But you’ve got to make it balance on both sides of the equation, so that means I’ve got to… Wait, no, balancing equations is something different, isn't it? Ancients, this is so fucked, where’s my calculator…”
The cage rocks back with the force of the ghost’s fists and Danny has to scramble to keep all of his scraps of paper in some sort of order.
“Dude! What the hell?”
“Answer my question so we can carry on with the game.” The ghost hisses, his face pressed up against the glass walls of the cage.
Danny rolls his eyes. He’s trying to answer his own questions, thank you very much! Perhaps he should just bust out, end this quickly and get back home. At least there he’d have access to the internet—and more importantly, Tucker’s answers. To compare, not to cheat, of course.
“Fine, what’s your question?”
“You weren’t listening? Do you even care about this at all?”
“All I care about right now is finishing my homework and getting back home at least an hour before my alarm goes off. So unless you can promise me that, I'm going to fight you now and finish off my homework in peace."
“Fight me? At least threatening bodily harm is something you all have in common. Please, you’re all stuck in there until this game ends, whether you like it or not.” The ghost sneers against the cage in what he probably thinks is an intimidating display of teeth, but instead just has Danny realising that he’s not brushed his own in two days. He's been so tired, he's not had time. It's still gross, though. “Answer the questions and you’ll be able to go home lickety-split.”
“Yeah, alright, whatever—as long as I get to answer my own questions, too. X doesn’t solve itself, you know.” As much as he wishes it did.
“Fine. I suppose this isn’t a test for you, anyway.”
Okay, well, at least it seems like Danny’s just a pawn and not an actual player in whatever kind of game this is. He’s not sure how he feels about that—actually, scratch that, yes he does. It’s really fucking nice to not be the one that’s one fuck up away from losing everything.
Mind you, he’s still not off the hook for it, yet. Obviously, he’ll still be keeping an ear out for anything going wrong, but what’s the harm in letting it play out a little longer? At least he’ll get some more work done.
“Fine.” Danny parrots. “What’s your question?”
“What’s your name?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“What’s your name?”
“You don’t know who I am?”
Huh. It’s not often that happens anymore. Weird.
Instead of giving him any answer, the ghost just whips around and cackles as he flies off towards the centre of the room. The glow of his cage dies down as the supply of ectoplasm dwindles and he finally takes a proper look around.
“Did you hear that? Did you hear the shock in his voice, did you see the betrayal in his eyes? You don’t know who he is!”
The ghost is swirling around a podium in the middle of the room, mocking the person in a voice that pierces Danny’s eardrums and stabs directly into his brain. Great, he’s entered the blinding headache stage of tired. He squints and rubs his eyes, but the heavy, blurring tiredness doesn’t leave.
He gives up on trying to guess who the hulking figure in the middle is. All he can assume is that he’s the reason they’re all here, what with the five or six other cages surrounding placed facing him.
Look, it’s unreasonable to ask Danny to do maths and hero work, let him just pick one thing to focus on.
“That’s your first point lost, I’m afraid! Let’s keep going, shall we? The questions are going to get a little harder now, good luck…”
With that, the ghost flies over to the first cage and poses another question. “When is his birthday?”
There’s barely any hesitation from the man on the podium who gives his answer as “March 20th,” with a confident growl. It's pretty impressive, to be fair. Danny can’t remember what date his own birthday is half the time, let alone anyone else’s.
To be fair, Danny has two birthdays, so it's doubly hard.
He doesn't forget.
The first birthday, the one he celebrates, is the day he found the Fentons. He tells them he doesn't know his actual birthday and they believe him, so every April 3rd they celebrate the day he came into their lives.
Or, at least, they do in theory. The Fentons aren't great at remembering birthdays either.
He reserves his true birthday for remembering where he came from. For mourning the life he left behind, the family, his brother. And when the day is over, he pushes it aside and carries on with his completely normal life as best he can.
Which is what he’s doing now. Carrying on with his life as best he can. Doing his homework.
When this stupid game finally finishes, he’ll get transported back to his bedroom with his three sheets of (hopefully) correct answers and he’ll get some sleep.
Then he’ll wake up, go to school, and do it all again.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as the ghost feeds enough ectoplasm through the first cage so that it lights up just like his did. Immediately, the man inside starts shouting, threatening the ghost with some very creative swearing to let them all go, but Danny just tunes him out because he’s doing what he does best. He's getting on with it.
He swallows and settles back down on the floor, trying to ignore the way his eyes are prickling. Cool. Entering into the “crying way too easily at just about anything” stage of tired. Lovely.
Right. Come on, you can do this. Take a deep breath. It’s just math.
Solve 7x^2 - 25x + 2 = 0 using the quadratic formula. Give your answer to 2 decimal places.
What the fuck.
He keeps an ear out as the ghost goes down the line asking the same question and receiving much the same results. Meanwhile, Danny’s getting nowhere fast.
So, a = 7, right? Which means that b = 25 and c = 2, that’s good, okay, so plug that all into the quadratic formula—wait, shit, b = -25 instead! Does that make a difference?
Whatever, now he has to… fix all the numbers in the formula, so minus minus 25 which is… 0, right? Right. Then it’s all the brackets, so first he’s got to square -25 which is… fuck. Where’s his calculator, did he bring a calculator? How in the hell is he meant to do that in his head?
Danny’s halfway to pulling his hair out when he hears it. The ghost is laughing, congratulating the man on the podium for his three right answers even if it looks like he’s gotten this one wrong, judging by the reaction of the person inside the cage. Danny can’t quite make out what’s happening because all he can see is numbers and, having abandoned squaring -25, a square root that he doesn’t know how to deal with.
So it's understandable that the shout doesn’t quite register to begin with.
“—yal! Danyal!”
But when it does, when the name finally makes it through, he freezes.
It can’t be real.
“Akhi, please!”
It’s not real.
His head whips up to the cage that’s glowing, but it’s too far away, too bright in the darkness, to really make out for certain that… It can’t be. He can’t be here, why would he be here?
Part of Danny really, really wishes he was paying attention to the monologuing.
“Danyal, please, answer me!” The voice is desperate, so, so desperate. Hoarse and wet and thick with tears, a far cry from the confident boy he used to know. The… the only time Danny’s heard his voice like that was when… But it can’t be him. “Let me go, let me see him! Danyal!”
“Answer my question, you little rat!” The ghost growls, face twisting in a snarling grimace that gets him nowhere. Of course it wouldn’t, there's no way that would scare him.
“Danyal! Please, akhi, please!”
It… Oh shit, is it really him?
Danny stands up, his pencil clattering to the floor, and he steps close enough to the glass wall of the cage so that he can reach out and touch it.
He hesitates.
What if it’s a trick? What if he’s in a nightmare dimension and the ghost is actually super powerful and this is all a trap? It’s not a game for the man on the podium, it’s a game made for torturing him—hell, it even had math in it! He hates math!
It can’t be real.
“Danyal, please, let it be you, please be alive, Danyal… Akhi, please.”
He lets his ectoplasm flood the cage, the walls blinding him as he pours in too much, far more than the ghost keeping them captive could ever hope to conjure. He wets his lips, regulates his ectoplasm to a trickle so that the light dims and he can finally see out again, and tries to say something. Anything. His heart is pounding and his mouth is dry.
“Dami?” he whispers, not daring to hope. Then louder, “Damian?”
“Danyal, is it really—”
“What are you doing?” The ghost snaps, taking his hand off of Damian’s cage so that the light dims and he can’t be heard, and shoots over towards him. “How are you doing that?”
Yeah, fuck this. That’s Damian in there, that’s really Damian, and Danny’s not staying in his cage for another second. He takes his hand off the wall and powers up an ectoblast, not even bothering to transform. He’s getting his little brother.
The glass of the cage shatters easily.
He steps out of the cage easily.
He… It’s not quite as easy to walk over to Damian.
It’s even harder to smash it open, so he just stands there, staring. Watching as Damian—and it is, it really is—stands there, too, his mouth moving as he's trying to call out to him but no sound is heard. Danny can read his lips well enough…
Damian sniffs, wipes his eyes and nose on his sleeve, and smiles tentatively. It’s a small, fleeting thing. Unsure. Sad. Hopeful.
“Damian?” He still can’t believe it, it has to be some sort of trick, surely. Still… even if it is, he’ll get to hold his brother again. Even if it’s not real. He smiles back at him and readies an ectoblast. “Stand back.”
And then that stupid ghost fires one straight at him instead.
Damian’s gaze flickers behind him, shouting a warning that he can’t hear, and he turns intangible on instinct. The bolt flies through him, but it’s not even strong enough to break Damian’s cage. Yeah, Danny was right. This guy's just annoying, not even worth the time it'll take to fight him.
“You’re ruining it, you’re ruining my game! You’re… you’re a ghost?”
There it is, there's the realisation, finally. He turns to face him, anger boiling in his veins. Fuck this guy.
“You’re an idiot?”
“Excuse me? How dare you?” The ghost blinks, then puffs himself up, ghostly flames licking up his stupid, ill-fitting suit, still not fully comprehending what’s going on. Not knowing the danger he’s in. “In my own lair, how dare you call me that?”
“I’m not a ghost.” Danny interrupts, ice beginning to creep out from his feet. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “I’m Phantom.”
“Wh—Phantom?” Immediately, the ghost loses all of his fire and shrinks into himself. “Oh, Ancients, I’m… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Your Majesty, I didn’t mean to—”
“And yet, you did. Is this a challenge?”
“Challenge? Cha—no, no, of course not, of course not, I wouldn’t be challenging you, not at all! Here, I’ll just, I’ll… I’ll let everyone out and then you can be on your way, I’m so sorry!”
Danny doesn’t even bother to answer, he just turns back to Damian with a roll of his eyes and—he’s still there, he keeps expecting him to have vanished, for this all to have been a dream, but he’s still there—and he readies another ectoblast.
“Stand back, okay?”
Damian nods and moves away, his eyes flicking between Danny and the ghost behind him with undisguised contempt.
The ectoplasmic glass shatters easily and then Damian is out of the cage and in front of him, just an arms length away.
They stand there for a long minute, watching, neither of them able to make the first move. Danny should probably start explaining some things, right? Ancients, there’s so much, but…
It’s been six years.
Six years without his brother.
Six years of only allowing himself to remember on one day, because otherwise he’d break down, otherwise he’d go back and…
Six years.
“Hey, Dami.” He tries to smile, tries to step forward, tries to do something other than stand there stupidly, but he just can’t.
“Are you… Danyal? Is it really you?”
“I feel like I should be asking you that,” he laughs, but it comes out weak and watery.
He’s definitely in the crying stage of tired now.
“Are you—” his eyes flicker over to the ghost again and Danny knows what he’s going to say with just as much certainty as he knows he’s not going to like hearing it. “Are you alive? Truly?”
He shrugs, puffs out some air in a sardonic grin, and spreads his arms wide. “Depends on how you define it, I guess. It’s… kind of a long story.”
It’s not comforting, from the look on Damian’s face, but then he hadn’t really expected it to be. He couldn’t lie to him, there was never any lying to Damian. Even when they were children together, he always saw through him.
Damian brings his arm up, towards him, but falters before they actually touch. Danny can feel his core twist and he so desperately wants to reach out and bridge the gap, but…
“Can I? Danyal, can—”
Ah, screw this, Danny hugs him.
He hugs him and the solid warmth of his presence, the familiar scent, the feeling of weight, of rightness, of home makes everything truly click for him.
It’s real.
It’s Damian.
Danny clings on tighter and a second later, he feels Damian’s arms circle around him, grabbing fistfuls of his hoodie and pulling it taut in his effort to hold on. Damian’s shoulders start to shake and he can’t help but laugh softly, his heart fluttering in his chest. At least he’s not the only one crying.
“Akhi, it’s really you, it’s really…”
“I’m here, Dami, I’m sorry, I won’t leave again.” He pushes his face into Damian’s shoulder, sniffing against the fabric. Yikes, he hopes Damian won’t be mad at the pretty obvious wet patch. “I promise.”
They stay there for a few minutes longer, clinging to each other, trying to breathe through it, when Danny feels a shifting in the ectoplasm around them. He groans, he just cannot catch a break!
This guy really does not know when to stop, does he? It’s always the weaker ones, too, the ones that have absolutely no hope in defeating him that never know when to bow out gracefully. It’s annoying. If this ghost isn’t careful, Danny will have to update his annoying list and finally move Boxy out of first place. At least he knows when to make himself scarce.
With a sigh, he conjures up a shield just as the ghost lets the blast loose. If he was alone—he’s so glad he’s not alone—he wouldn’t have bothered with the shield at all, but it’s not like he’s going to let Dami get hit.
“You’re really starting to piss me off, you know that, right?”
“You ruined my game! I don’t care who you are, no one leaves until my game is finished!” The ghost—Danny doesn’t even feel bad about not knowing his name any more, this guy sucks—snarls and throws another ectoblast which Danny knocks away with one of his own.
With one last squeeze, he lets Damian go, already feeling the loss of it. Fuck this guy.
“Last chance, let everyone go and I’ll let you go. Call it a thank you for reuniting us.”
“I already told you,” he spits, both his hands glowing with ectoplasmic fire, “no one leaves until the game is finished!”
Danny pushes Damian behind him and pulls a thermos out of thin air, still not bothering to transform. He knocks the ghost back with a strong blast of ectoplasm and soups him before he can do anything but groan.
At least it was over quickly.
"I win."
He throws a smile over his shoulder at Damian and pops the thermos back in the pocket dimension it came from. The ghost can stew in there for a couple days, really think about what he did. It’s just rude.
Then he lifts both his arms up and shoots five ectoblasts in quick succession at each of the remaining cages, finally freeing the rest of the ghost’s hostages. Let them get themselves together while Danny can go back to giving Damian a hug.
It’s been so long.
He goes to grab Damian again, but stops when Damian hisses sharply and pulls his hand back.
“You’re hurt?”
Oh, Ancients, he’s hurt! Did Danny do that? Is it bad, was it an ectoblast? What happened?
Before he can spiral too far, Damian lifts up his wrist to reveal a splint already protecting his injury.
“I sprained it a few days ago, it’s nothing terrible. That’s why I’m me and not, you know.” Damian shrugs and gestures, presumably, to the guy on the podium. Danny has no idea what that’s meant to mean.
“Not what?”
“Not patrolling as Robin. I have been benched until I’m sufficiently healed.”
“Yeah, sure, that makes sense—I’m sorry, wait, what—you’re Robin?” He follows Damian’s outstretched arm towards the guy on the podium and… “Holy shit, is that Batman?”
“Mother never told you?”
“Told me what?”
“He’s our father, Danyal.”
“That’s our… That’s our Batdad? Fatherman? Dadbat? Dad-Dad Bat… man? What?” He shakes his head a little, trying to make some of his thoughts actually connect because nothing is actually making any sense right now. “What the fuck?”
His face burns as he hears the barely stifled laughter coming from pretty much every broken cage. He swivels his head around, eyes wide like an owl, and tries to place the names of the audience he’d forgotten about.
Nightwing—that’s the Nightwing—waves with a cheery grin as he makes his way over to them, and there’s Red Robin with his hand clamped over his mouth, nowhere near successful in silencing his laughter. Black Bat, Signal, Red—is that Red Hood, the crime boss, over there? Holy shit!—all wave at him, too, but mercifully they stay where they are.
Batman steps down from the podium.
“Sorry, I think I missed just about everything earlier. What the hell is going on here? What kind of game was this? ‘How Embarrassed Can We Make Danny?’ Because that’s what it feels like.”
“Nah, but if it's any consolation, you’d certainly be winning that game!” Nightwing laughs as he stops a few feet away from them.
“It was my fault,” Batman says, his voice low and gravelly. He gestures towards the thermos. “He wanted to test my ability as a father. My knowledge of my children.”
“Oh… How did you do?”
“I mean, not great,” Red Hood laughs from behind him. “He didn’t even know who you were.”
“Well, that’s fair, can’t really blame him for that. I’m meant to be dead.” Danny says cheerfully, nodding with a smile that he hopes is reassuring. “I mean, I am dead, but that’s unrelated. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Red Robin asks.
“Don’t worry about it!” Danny waves him away and slings an arm around Damian, just like he used to do when they were young. He feels like he’s buzzing, his core vibrating happily out of his skin, and he’s pretty sure he’s got the goofiest grin on his face. “It’s all good!”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Red Hood says as he picks his way towards them, cutting off whatever Batman was going to say, thank goodness. There’s no way he’s awake enough for a proper, actual conversation about his death(s) and everything that came after them, not at all. “We have bigger things to worry about, after all.”
All of them groan. Guess he’s not the only tired person here.
“What’s wrong now?” Red Robin asks, already pulling up a dope wrist computer that looks slick as hell but obviously isn’t going to work in the Ghost Zone.
Red Hood brandishes a load of papers and turns his head towards Danny. “Danyal here thinks adding 4 and 7 makes 10, which isn’t a great start, but you should actually be multiplying them there, and then multiplying all that by 2, not just… leaving the 2 out? I don’t know what you’ve done with half of this, but it definitely doesn’t make 10 though. I can also tell you that 25 squared is not whatever this squiggle is meant to be. Pretty cool picture of a horse, though, great job on that!”
Danny slumps and hides his face in his hands with a half-hearted sob. He’s so screwed. “It’s meant to be a cat.”
“Oh.” Red Hood turns the paper on its side, tilts his head, then turns the paper upside. “That’s a really crappy cat. Sorry.”
“Do you know how to get us out of here?” Batman asks gently, drawing Danny out of his shame spiral.
“Yeah, that’s not a problem, I can portal us out. At least I’ve got that down.” He rolls his eyes and rubs at the back of his neck with weak laughter. He’s really not making a good impression right now, is he?
“Let’s go, then. If you’d like, I can help you with your homework when we get back somewhere safe.” It’s so weird, Batman sounds so uncertain, not at all like the fearsome crusader he’s seen on the news. And then he smiles, soft and warm, and Danny can’t help but return it. “Damian can help you with the drawing.”
“Yeah… I think I’d like that. Thanks.”
"Let's play a game of 'How well do you know your kids?'" The being shouted, eyebrow still twitching from Robins latest remark.
"I know all my children perfectly." Batman growled at the entity. He held his ground as the spirits (demons?) smile sharpened, "Than you won't mind!"
A puff of purple glowy smoke engulfs then entire area and the next thing anyone knows is that all of Bruces children, even the ones who weren't with them previously, are locked inside magical cages while Batman is trapped in a invisible mime box with a podium and a microphone in what is quite possibly the most garish game show set up ever.
Why was everything neon green and purple? Why was the guy neon green and purple? Who were these other kids-gdi Bruce! You have more kids?
Danny could just transform and beat up the ghost. Its a pretty weak one after all. But this one doesn't seem to recognize him as a halfa and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to do his homework without being attacked.
Jason stared at the kid next to him. What kinda life did this kid have to calmly get out his math homework and start solving problems while being held hostage by an unknown entity?! And with the bats no less?!
All the while Batman is getting peppered with questions about his kids and is realizing he doesn't recognize a few of the names.
#dpxdc#prompt fill#my writing#hello hello hello back again two days later with the exact same prompt and another 4500 words!#this brain rot is still consuming me i will never be free of it#but that's okay because i'm making things and it's fun!!!#i'm currently much like danny and very very sleep-deprived - i am making myself laugh so much with danny's poorly drawn cat#i'm sorry danny but cats do not have necks like that you poor poor boy#also i had to learn the quadratic equation for this again - who said you wouldn't use this stuff after school?? me i did it fucking sucks#once again i am a FAKE FAN because i have ZERO IDEA on characters in the dc universe LET ALONE who counts as bruce's children#so you've got this deal with it#again i did not give this poor ghost a name nor a description lmao sorry family therapist ghost#also please imagine: all of the batfam that are actually engaged in the game seeing damian's reaction as soon as danny's introduced#there's a minute where damian is just frozen - trying to comprehend what he's seeing because his brother is meant to be dead#because i love the idea of little baby damian being so clingy just absolutely doting on his older brother#that losing him - that danyal's supposed death - just absolutely breaks him and he can't let himself be close to anyone else especially his#new 'brothers' - they're never going to replace danyal no one can replace danyal! that's what he tells himself while thinking deep down#he can't take another loss like that. getting close to another brother means the possibility of losing another brother#and he can't go through that again#anyway he's fucking losing it in his cage and everyone else is watching damian show way more emotion than he's ever shown before#and they're all so scared and so worried for damian and hearing him shout and plead for danyal when it comes to his turn just breaks their#hearts poor poor little bby bat TT^TT#anyway i hope you all enjoy i'm sorry for going ham on this prompt but then again no i'm not this was fun!!!!#cab writes
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⛈️ ❌ ❌ ❌ // 2:09 am, tbd ;
#this is a fucking vent so just gnore the venty ass tags but i have nowhere else to place this that feels safe other than just.#shouting into a void where no one hears. aka here ig.#bc its better i shout into a void alone than drag others down with me somehow—i dont. know#regardless… i’m just… i dont know what to think.#things are really bad lately & i’m struggling again to stop myself from sh utting down every time i try being vulnerable & opening up.#i keep clamming up & letting my mind take the reins when it tells me to just erase anything i say. to not open up.#to swallow every single emotion & experience that’s hurting me & let that poison kill me slowly instead. deal with it alone#because it feels like its wrong to open up. like its wrong to say anything. like me being open is just.#me being a fucking burden or something. i don’t know. i shouldn’t be like this. i’m supposed to be fucking better than t his.#what the fuck happened to the version of myself that could just keep suppressing & suppressing & not being a goddamn thorn in ppl’s sides.#esp bc all the things i’m having a difficult / painful time with is all fucking trigger heavy shit or things that i just don’t.#fucking know what to do with anymore because its not shit within my control.#a lot of it’s shit im still just processing that has hurt a lot & havingg to cope w that grief alone.#but then there’s also other circumtances too that are hard to navigate & my BPD having a field day w me in recent history too#i don’t know what the fuck is wrong w me at this point. & im scared & i can’t stand being fucking alone in this shit yet.#i feel like i have to. i have to. i have to. beccause this is my own issue & to dare express anything is me just. using ppl isn’t it.#that’s all it is right. & besides how many times has it been proven that ppl get sick of me for not being okay.#how many times have ppl walked away because they realize im just some fucking deadweight emotionally or something. id on’t fucking know.#am i spiraling? who fucking knows! maybe! because im fucking tired of what my life has been in general & im. overwhelmed.#overwhelmed by existence itself i fucking guess & what its meant for me overwhelmed by expectations overwhelmed by vulnerability thats just.#bleeding out through the fucking cracks of this fucking mess of a person i am.#& constantly fucking afraid that im just. too much. too much. too much for anyone.#too emotional in fucking general too intense too overwhelming for others regardless if its overwhelming them via pos or neg emotions.#afraid im going to get discarded afraid of what’s to come afraid in fucking general. fear & grief & pain & rage & hatred &.#desperation to feel anything other than this & desperation to feel loved thats got me having rly foul compulsions too#all my emotions feel like some kind of fuckihng hairtrigger & its hard to stop it in fucking general. i dont fucking know. & like i said it.#feels like shit to deal with completely alone. not bc i wanna deal with alone but bc i /have/ to bc if i dont then im just. a problem. or.#i dont know. im tired of everything tired of my emotions tired of this life tired of all that ive had to face up til this point & tired of.#fear & idk how to handle things alone anymore. my friends deserve better than this emotional burden i am to be around ig.#it feels so much like i have to apologize to those i befriend for being. well. this. for all of me & for being ‘too much’ in general.
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Do not let me rant about my dentist appointment while my sister is missing, what is wrong with you.
#kettle rants#tw: missing child#like genuinely#why would anyone let alone my mother let me talking about anything else while she waits to hear news back as to where my 12 y/o sister is#nothing I could ever say would be more important than knowing my sister is missing
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Green-eyed Monster
Synopsis. He knows it’s not your fault they’re all over you - but that doesn’t stop him from fúcking you like it is.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, jealous séx, spítting, exhíbitionism, bréeding, chokíng, degradatíon, cúmplay, Nanami’s a bit mean, squírting, overstím, oral (female receiving), semi-public, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.4k
A/N. It’s my birthday month yippeeeee
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - “Talk to her?”
It takes you a second to even register those words - let alone the phone being pressed against the side of your face - Toji’s cock too big, the stretch too sinful, so utterly relentless as he fucks your sloppy pussy into the mattress.
“Hellooooo? Anyone there?”
And it takes you even longer to hear that familiar tinny voice. Too familiar.
“T-Toji- what ngh-” you let out an obscene gasp - one you were sure that Toji drew out of you on purpose. Dragging his thumb all over your throbbing clit, lips curling in a way that already told you who was on the other end of the line.
“C’mon, doll. The mans been blowing up your phone all day.” his words are hot against your lips. Giving your swollen lips a loud peck, once. Twice. “S’rude to keep someone waiting on call.”
He only huffs out a laugh at how cute you looked underneath him, all breathless and fucked dumb. Jaw slack, teary eyes rolling to the back of your head, words slurring and barely coherent.
“Hngh- what-” you squirm, words so heavy as Toji continues his movements. “Oh my god-”
Your boyfriend had you exactly where he wanted you - and since he couldn’t take a hint, Toji was about to let that annoying little ex of yours know too. Knowing that whatever comes out of your pretty lil’ mouth would definitely stop that loser thinking he still had a chance.
“Is she there? Baby, are you there?”
Oh, well, Toji didn’t like that. Not one bit, as he pushes your legs further apart to ram into you even deeper. Unstopping. Unforgiving - like he was taking his irritation out on your poor, ravaged cunt.
“Yeah, speak up ‘baby’.” he pants into your open mouth, hot tongue licking up the stray tears rolling down your cheeks. “Use those words now.”
And because he was such a shameless bastard, Toji’s rolling your swollen clit between two large fingers. Lips twitching up into a smirk as he drinks in all those cute little whines that startle out of you.
“Hn-hngh-” you cry, bowing your body deeper into Toji’s. Clawing at his arms - his shoulders - his back to desperately contain your obscene moans. What a shame, they were so pretty too - he wouldn’t mind the entire neighborhood overhearing. “Fuck, Toji…”
“Awww, what? Can’t even speak?” Pulling himself closer to catch your lips in a hot, open-mouthed kiss he hopes would ring through the speakers on the other end of the line. “My poor baby’s gettin’ nervous?”
God, that asshat better take a hint now.
And shit if he thought he was going insane because of that bastard interrupting his precious time with you, then he was definitely not ready for the way you get wetter - tighter - as he does. Putting on a sinful little show that had Toji’s hips stuttering, knuckles white on your phone as he fights not to drop it.
“Oh-” Toji’s head drops into the crook of your neck, fingers bruising on your hips while he fucks you back harder into him. ”Ya like this? Like being so dirty in front of someone else?” Difficult with the way you were squeezing so tightly around his swollen cock. “Actin’ so innocent but you’re such a slut, huh?”
You give him such a delirious little nod of your head, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently and- shit, did you even know what you were doing? How fucking sexy you were being right now? Shit, he was fucked. He was so fucked.
“Is this you playing hard to get?”
Ah, right. Forgot about that bastard.
Droning out into the phone, “Seems m’girl is busy right now.” And as if to prove his point - maybe to that scrub on the other end of the phone, maybe to himself - he’s slamming into your heavenly cunt faster and faster. Making sure to angle the speaker just right to catch all those lewd little squelches as your sweet sweet juices soak Toji’s achingly hard cock. Voice as ragged as his hips as he grunts, “Very busy.”
“I can hear her - let me speak to her!”
Well, what your ex was hearing were probably those fucked-out whines spilling from your lips. Just as out of control as your hips bucking up for more more more- “Ah! Toji, wan’ more- hngh- fuck fuck fuck.”
It made all the blood in Toji’s body - especially his brain - rush straight down to cock to watch you go from pretending you weren’t affected to being such a good little whore for him. And, hell, that was only for him to hear.
“Wait- that noise-”
So Toji’s snaking up his hand from its relentless abuse on your sensitive clit to shove two fingers into your mouth. Huffing out a dark little chuckle at the way you gag and choke so prettily around him, moaning like you couldn’t help yourself.
Though, that doesn’t mean he’s going to be any nicer to your cunt though. Toned pelvis slamming against yours - so hard he’s sure it would leave some nice little bruises to brag about - maybe even send that asshole ex a few pictures if he still keeps calling.
“What the fuck- is she…?”
“Told ya, she’s busy.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - “You deserve it.”
“Do I really have to do this to teach you a lesson each time?”
You gulp, eyes flitting between his yellow tie wrapped around your wrists pinned above, and the man in-between your legs. Eyes glassy, strands of blond sticking uncharacteristically to his forehead, such a cruel little smirk playing on his lips as he positions himself in-between your legs.
Smack!
A breathless gasp leaves you as Nanami’s hand comes down on your ass. Hard.
And he only huffs out a low chuckle at the way you keen, hips bucking wildly in- defiance? Need? You didn’t know, the only thing you were sure of was that you wanted him to do something - anything - right now.
Because one look at that classmate who you were just a little too close with earlier today, and Nanami’s been so mean ever since then. All but ripping off your clothes as he tied you to the headrest, fucking you over and over until he could see you all bloated with his cum. And even then - Nanami wasn’t done.
“Y’should answer me when I ask something, my love.” he licks a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds. Pressing softly on your tummy to watch his seed gush down your legs, so fucking filthy as he pools it on his tongue, tipping his head back, back, back to let it slide down his throat. “Or is it that you just listen to what he says now?”
God, he was being so sinfully irrational right now. Teasing. Taunting.
“No, tha’s not it-” you sob, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks at how you wanted to cum again so badly despite how sensitive your poor pussy was. “J-jus want-”
“Want what?”
Oh how Nanami loved you like this - that pathetic little whimper leaving your mouth as he teases you with his mouth. Hot tongue going all the way up from your base, just underneath your swollen clit. Not even bothering to fuck into your sloppy hole yet.
“To make me-” the words die in your throat as he grazes your clit. Ever-so-slightly. You just wished you could free yourself and give in so badly. “Cum! Wan’ you to make me cum.”
Your back arches off the bed, legs wrapping around Nanami’s head to pull him closer to where you needed him the most. Thighs quivering, his cum dribbling out of your sloppy pussy and into a lewd little pool below.
And it seems to work - perhaps temporarily. Because he’s echoing against your glistening lips, “To cum?” smirking against your cunt as he dips his tongue past that first ring of resistance. “You should ask-” Before pulling away completely. “-that friend of yours.”
“Noooo!” you’re letting out a strangled gasp, and if you were in any better state of mind maybe you’d have been embarrassed about how pathetic you were being right now. Tugging uselessly on the tie. “Please, Ken.”
God, how he would love to bully you some more - to have you crying and shaking on just the tip of his tongue until all you could remember was how he couldn’t have you like this. Ruin you like this.
But, no, Nanami can’t deny that your adorable mewls of his name have him feeling lightheaded.
“You little minx.” he manages out, pulling away mere millimeters. Purposely letting a tense beat pass, one. Two. Before spitting on your fluttering cunt, adding to the absolute mess of cum and slick below. Missing on purpose - of course - to let it splatter all over your thighs. “Usin’ the dirtiest tricks, huh?”
“I didn’t oh-” Nanami doesn’t let you plead your case - he doesn’t want you to. Instead, shoving his face nose-deep in your overfilled pussy. Lapping at all your - and his - sweet sweet juices.
“Asking me to do this.” he hisses into your cunt, trying for the life of him to sound like he isn’t in heaven right now. Murmuring around your throbbing clit, “Shoulda asked that friend. Didn’t need me when he was around.”
You hiccup, face burning at how mean he was being. “He’s just a c-classmate.”
Smack!
Maybe to shut you up, maybe to stop you from talking about that loser with those pretty lips of yours, Geto’s giving you a quick, sharp smack to your ass. Smoothing his palm over the sting like a little warning.
“Oh yeah?” he questions, muffled around your dripping cunt. So deep that his nose was rubbing tiny, sinful little circles on your poor clit. “Didn’t seem that way with how he was flirting with my wife. N’ now you wanna cum on my tongue? How needy.”
“M’sorry!” you’re grinding your cunt deeper onto his face, a rapid, sloppy little rhythm to match his own. Geto’s tie now digging into your wrists with how hard you’re pulling. “Shoulda known- m’sorry- hngh, fuck fuck fuck.”
Rewarded with a gentle smack! and his tongue - hot and deftly massaging all the right spots. So expert in the way he’s teasing and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Dragging your pussy so sloppily all over his face, tonguefucking you with such reckless abandon. No rhythm or technique - just to show off. To show you.
Close - too close.
Close enough that you could almost-
Let out a broken whine as Nanami pulls away, delicate strings of cum and spit snapping as he does. So pretty and filthy all over his kiss-bitten lips, ones that curve into a mocking smile at your state.
“Who said you could cum, gorgeous?” A hand reaching down to fist his swollen fist, pumping up and down. Slowly. “I was jus’ cleaning that pretty pussy up for the real fun.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - See the mess
It was too much - everything was too much. From the way Geto had you shoved into your empty office room, strong arms spreading your legs so shamefully on the desk, to the way he’s stuffing his achingly hard cock in-between them.
Hips so well, and dangerously intent. Like he had something to prove, and didn’t mind whether he would break you in the process.
And he did - to prove himself to those incessant coworkers of yours that hit on you in front of him. As if they had a chance? To prove that he’s the only one to that can make you cum over and over and-
Dragging you on his cock, veins throbbing in a maddening thump! thump! thump! Against your walls. Edging you closer to - which number orgasm was this, again? You weren’t in the right state of mind to calculate.
“Oh, this? Might the seventh.” he murmurs, fingers stuttering on your throbbing clit and- oh shit, had you said that out loud? “Mhm, you did.” Geto grins up at how pretty you were like this - tear-streaked face, lips wobbling, such cute moans leaving them each time he gave a long, languid strokes. “But s’alright, I love it.”
“B-but-” you whine, words slurring together in a way that has all the blood in Geto’s body rushing painfully to this dick. “Someone might-”
“Come?” he circles around your sloppy entrance with a fingertip, stretched so fucking obscenely around his cock. Shifting to flick at your sensitive nub. “Guess you jus’ better hurry up then, my love.”
Your head spins, both from the way Geto was dragging your pussy so sloppily all over his cock - bouncing you like such a slut - and from how mean he was being. Nothing at all like the caring, gentle boyfriend he usually was. Throwing your legs over his shoulders to fuck you even deeper.
“Fuck shit shit shit-” you buck your hips wildly as he bullies his heavy cock faster into your plushy walls. One hand on your hips, keeping you still while he massages every crevice and spot he knew would have you seeing stars. The other, drawing frenzied little circles on your ravaged clit. “S-Sugu, someone’s gonna hear- gonna walk in.”
“Good.”
Mouth dropping into a soft oh! you snap your head up to meet his darkened gaze. Man bun so messy already, brows furrowed, lips swollen and curling ever-so-slightly into a cruel, fucked-out little smile.
“Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight,” he grunts, hips getting sloppier. Faster. “Almost like you want someone to come.”
Unconvincingly, “N-noo, hah- I don’t”
“Y’sure about that?” Your sweet sweet juices glossing his lips so prettily from where he tongue-fucked you to insanity right here not to long ago, and if you angled your head just right you could see the way it trickled down his jawline. An even bigger mess at his hips, cock soaked and glistening in the dim lighting. “Don’ want any of those friends to see you all filthy like this?”
Because Geto wasn’t afraid of getting messy - or showing it off. He loved it in fact.
Loved your slick just smearing dangerously close to the strands of hair framing his face. Loved ruining you because he was the only one that got to - and anyone else can come in and watch if they wanna flirt with you so badly.
“Fuck them.” you flinch at how uncharacteristically mean he was being. “Fuck them all. Only I can make you feel like this-” Hitting that one spot again and again. “-right?”
“Sugu- f-fuck s’too deep.” you arch off the desk, fingers carding through his locks to pull him even closer. Eyes watering as you feel that familiar knot in your stomach. “I’m hah- shit.”
“Who’s cock are ya gonna cum all over?” Geto questions, muffled around your dripping cunt. So deep that his nose was rubbing tiny, sinful little circles on your poor clit. “Who’s making you- hngh- f-feel this good?”
It’s all you can do to let out such whiny, cockdrunk replies. Ones that only make Geto rock his hips harder, sloppier with each word falling from your lips. “You- Sugu- Shit s’too much.”
“Yeah? Gonna cum f’me again? All on my cock?” breathing ragged now.
“I- I don’t- hngh. Know if I can!” You were barely lucid at this point, barely even registering the way you’re so sloppily jerking your hips all over. Using him in exactly the ways Geto wanted.
“You will.” Pace only picking up, so rough that a little part of Geto almost feels bad - almost. Your entire body is twitching with each flick of his finger on your clit. Cock hitting all the right spots. Making such a mess of slick and precum below you that you can only pray your office isn’t used for a meeting today. “You can- hngh- do it. F’me.”
“For you?”
“Yeah.” he’s pulling you close enough that you can feel his breath hot against your lips. “You can do it, right? Can cum for me? Squirt all over my cock?” Licking at the seam of your mouth - forcing you to taste him and yourself and him- “F���me. Only me.”
It’s sudden - almost violent, and you don’t even realize when you’re cumming at first. Just that, with a strained scream of Geto’s name, nails raking down his sculpted shoulders, leaving pretty red marks for him to remember.
Juices squirting all over his abs, staining his t-shirt. Glistening against his milky skin, snug cunt squeezing his rock-hard cock while he fucks you over and over and-
“So messy f’me, my love. So fuckin’ messy.” His eyes darting to the now slightly-ajar door - as expected. “Hope no one else sees the mess too, hm?”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - The needy
He knows it’s not your fault that they hover around you - those pathetic losers that think they have a chance - but that still won’t stop him from fucking you like it is.
“Baby- ngh. Why the f-fuck did you have to look so hah- good, today?” he’s gasping against your lips, hips out of control, voice a pitch or so higher than it usually would be. “Had so many lookin’ at my girl like ngh- you’re theirs.”
And God - it was so hard to look at Choso too, flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink, stray strands of hair sticking to his forehead - so utterly wrecked already. Though, you weren’t any better.
“S’for you, Cho.” you whine, jaw dropping at the sudden gush of cum that oozes down your legs as Choso pulls out completely - like a little punishment. Lips curling into a fucked-out little smirk at your adorable pout. “D-did it for you.”
Those simple words break him. You break him.
And Choso doesn’t even dare to give himself the chance to compose himself before bullying his swollen cock all the way back inside you again. Heavy balls smacking your ass hard enough to leave marks - good, let them leave marks. Milking himself over and over.
Groaning, “Shit- you don’t know what you do to me, baby.”
And your eyes flicker down at the hands suddenly all over you - everywhere, anywhere that Choso could reach. So that maybe next time when you wear such a sinful little sundress, everyone else will know to keep their eyes to themselves. Cupping your stomach to press down on where he was right there-
“Hngh- oh my god. So deep, ah-”
“Look s’fuckin’ gorgeous.” he spits into your mouth. Fingers bruising on your hips, your ass, kneading and groping every inch of skin. “Unfair- shit shit- they don’t have the right-” Tweaking your nipples, branding your neck, he runs a thumb under your swollen lower lip. “Don’ have the hah- right to look at what’s mine, right?”
“Y-yes.” you whimper, rutting your hips up pathetically to meet his merciless cadence. Hard abs so painful - maybe even bruising against your skin.
Choso’s tugging open your lips, and you let him. Way too drunk on his cock - his massive, unforgiving cock - to even think of stopping him.
Before you know it, he spits in your mouth, once. Twice. And you don’t even realize that this is what you’ve been waiting for - perhaps ever since you put on that slutty little sundress to tease him this morning - because you’re moaning half-lucidly. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let his saliva slide down your throat.
And Choso just looks like he could pass out right then and there.
He doesn’t know what’s more obscene - this or that little pool of cum spreading all over the sheets right now. Seeping into your skin, dribbling down your legs each time he moves in and out in and-
“Hated their s-stares. Their whispers.” Jaw falling slack, cock twitching wildly inside your tight walls. Words hurried and slurring together as he whispers, “Mine right?” Biting down your neck, licking hotly - almost as sloppy as his hips, “Only mine, yeah? Who does this pussy belong to?”
“You!” you manage to sob out, jolting at the fingers starting up quick, erratic little circles on your poor clit. “Ngh- only you.”
“Mhm? I make you f-feel this hah- way?” he leans closer, cock ramming in and out of you so animalistically. “Only I get to paint this pretty pussy white.” Nibbling on your ear, “To s-stuff you full, hm?”
Honestly, Choso doesn’t even know if he could cum again but he had to - needed to. Balls squeezing while he fights to cum again - once more, to prove to himself, and you that you were his inside and out. And he tells you - a little over twelve times as he babbles into your lips.
“Mine. Shit shit shit- all f’me. Fuck, m’so close” And he could tell by the way you were squeezing so sinfully around him that you were too, moans getting all breathy and incoherent the way it did just before you were about to cum. “Gonna cum? F’me? H-hah- All f’me?”
“Yes! Yes yes yes- m’gonna-”
You don’t get to finish the sentence - Choso doesn’t let you.
Instead, drinking up all your sinful moans while he angles his hips just right to hit that one spot, at the same time he presses down against your clit. Hard.
You see stars as you cum, toes curling, legs pulling Choso by his toned hips so he could spill into you with an almost-pained grunt. Cock too sensitive, tears springing to his eyes as he cums and cums so hard he thinks he sees the gates of heaven.
And you, of course, are an angel.
An angel he’s pressing impossibly closer to. Biting up your collarbone, hips so filthy with the way he’s fucking rope after rope of hot seed into you.
Whispering hoarsely in your ear, “Ya finally know you’re mine or do I hafta ngh- teach you again?”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Listen up!
“I could always get you off right here, y’know. Right now.”
And that’s exactly what he does - one look at his underlings sends them running. The door barely even slamming shut before Sukuna has your drenched panties in tatters on the floor, straddling his thick thigh, trying - desperately - to get yourself off with all that he would give.
“Y-you said you hngh- get me off.” you hiccup, bottom lip wobbling so pathetically as you drag your sloppy pussy all over Sukuna’s thigh.
And oh you sound so betrayed - so needy - that it might just be opening up a whole new realm of possibilities for the man himself. Doing nothing more but watch the way you ride his thigh like such a slut.
“So what if I said that?” he crosses his arms, intentionally blocking the mouth-watering view you had of his pecs. “Do it yourself. Think m’gonna be intimidated by a whore like you?”
You know he’s doing this to infuriate you, to get you to break and beg him for mercy. And all you can do is let out a soft gasp as Sukuna shifts his leg, the friction so good against your sensitive pussy. Having you see stars behind your eyes.
“Heh, too fucked out to even deny it?” he coos, making you whine and stutter your hips right where that sinful little thigh tattoo was. Pressing down. Hard. “You really are a whore. Is that why you let my ministers get close with you like that?”
“I-I didn’t-” your hips are out of control now, sliding your throbbing clit on the dips and curves of his leg. Absolutely soaked in your juices. “They jus’ asked me how to get to the-”
“And they think they can talk to their queen that way?”
Irritation is bleeding into Sukuna’s words now, eyes dark and hooded in a way that makes you wonder whether he realizes the iron-hold grip on your hips now. Hard. Nails sharp against your soft skin, rocking you harder on his thigh. Faster.
With a soft whimper, you let him pull you into a desperate desperate kiss. Just a clash of teeth and saliva and pure need. Pure intensity.
“Fuckin’ vermin.” You flinch as he spits out little profanities into your open mouth. “Should kill ‘em for even looking at you.” One hand digging into your hips, pushing and pulling them like you were too slow, the other shifting his robe. “Gonna kill them all.”
And maybe because you’re too stupid - or too cockdrunk - to think otherwise, because you gasp out little pleas of mercy. Letting Sukuna drink up your delirious little, “D-don’t kill them…”
“Ha?” Sukuna breaks the kiss, immediately stopping your lewd little movements on his leg. Leaning in close enough that his hot breath fans your face. “The fuck did you just say?”
Oh, shit. You were fucked. You were so so fucked.
“Nooo, Kuna I was so-”
“Close?” And oh, you should’ve known that would be a sign. Should’ve gotten an inkling by the way that Sukuna immediately lifts you from his thigh as if you weigh nothing, immediately hovering you right over his achingly hard dick - you won’t be making it out alive. “Who the fuck gave you permission to cum, brat?”
Nothing more is said before he’s making you sit so prettily on his dick - already soaked in precum and so so angry. Not even a hint of care or concern in the way he splits you apart on his swollen cock with barely any preparation. If you were gonna act like such a slut - might as well take it like one.
“I didn’t give ya permission to cum yet.” Sukuna grunt, lacing his fingers on top of your head to push you down, down, down his cock. “Did they?”
You can’t even form proper sentences at this point, the stretch too much. Too good. Letting out incoherent little babbles of what sounded like disagreement, or, that’s what Sukuna took it as anyway.
“Thought so.” Smirking at the feeble resistance, “Was defending you against that trash and you just had to fuck- go stand up f’them.” He fucks up into your tight pussy in quick, methodical grinds just to squeeze his thick cock inside. “S’like you wanted me to fuck you up right here. To have them hear how I fucking ruin this pretty pussy on my cock.”
You’re scrambling to grab at the chair, his bulging biceps, settling for clawing at his shoulders. Too desperate to even think of a better reply other than a teary little, “N-no- don’ wan-”
Which was useless, really, because any pathetic excuse Sukuna cuts off. Unable to help himself from giving one, harsh thrust that finally has your sweet cunt fully wrapped around his dick. Heavy balls smacking against your ass, squeezing him so tightly.
“Oh? What a shame.” His whisper is hot against your ear, sending goosebumps racing down your spine. Two fingers squishing your cheeks together into a pathetic pout, forcing you to look at the closed door. “Because they’re right outside listening to ya.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - The show-off
The Kyoto exchange event isn’t always fun and games, Gojo thinks - ever since that new prick from Kyoto’s teaching staff started making eyes at you, that is.
How unprofessional! Conduct between teachers should definitely be reprimanded - no matter that Gojo had you snuck into his room, shirt hitting the floor faster than the door closes. His hands everywhere, throwing his blindfold around your neck, pulling you to bed so you can ride whatever remaining sanity out of him.
“T-Toru, what are you doing?” you squeal, as he starts bucking his hips wildly underneath you. Reeling his head back to watch the way his thick cock slides in and out of you. In and out in and out in and-
“Don’t you worry, sweetheart.” he fumbles with his phone, that familiar ping! ringing out over those lewd squelches below you. You and Gojo were no stranger to recording your little trysts - but why did he seem so eager about this one? “Jus’ do what you always do. Take it- fuck take it all f’me.”
And it’s all you can do - thighs shaking with effort as you desperately try to keep up with Gojo’s pace.
“Yeah- fuck yeah yeah. Feel so good- God I never get used to this.” And it’s true, he thinks - knows, he could never grow used to the heady feeling of wrecking your tight little pussy. Of drawing those cute lil’ whines of his name out of you. “N’ I know no one else would either.”
Gojo’s no stranger to running his mouth when he’s pussydrunk - and the way your plushy walls were squeezing him so tight, body curving into his as you milk the soul out of him - how could he not be?
“C’mon, sweetheart. Make a mess f’me - and him.”
All it takes is for those simple words for you to realize what he’s doing. And Gojo’s long fingers are becoming erratic on your clit, rolling his thumb over the sensitive nub. Hips sloppy like he was trying to fuck any and every rationality out of you.
It works, probably - because you know you should stop him recording. To tell him to put away that phone and just ruin you how he usually does.
But no, instead you’re only getting wetter. Knees spread, sopping hole so messy as you rock your hips even harder down Gojo’s throbbing cock. “So th-that’s what this is about.”
With a throaty groan, Gojo pulls you to him by his blindfold dangling around your neck - easy access, of course. Grip just a little tighter than it should be.
Looking up at you through his long lashes, eyes hazy - almost glowing in the camera flashlight. You see the way his lips curl into a satisfied grin.
“C-can you fuck- blame me?” he sounds so wrecked already. Hand growing tighter and tighter with each cute lil’ whine leaving your swollen lips. “Fuckin’ loser thinks he has the ngh- skills to pull you.” Toned pelvis now bruising against your own, words strained and you wonder whether he can remember to breathe - whether you can breathe. “N’ the skills t-to-” Hips jagged, filthy. “-fuck you.”
“Oh- shit shit shit. God, it feels too good-”
You’re wondering just how useful the video will actually be, because Gojo’s drawing out such slutty, loud moans from you that you’re half-sure most of campus can hear.
“He can never get you this wet.” Bullying his cock into your heavenly cunt like he was fucking addicted on the feeling. Thumb trembling as he tries to get the camera to focus on all the best parts. “This messy.”
The way your glistening pussy is stretched so obscenely around his cock, sucking him up so well. Disappearing into your dripping wet heaven. Your tits bouncing so enticingly in front of his face - marks littering your soft skin like you’d been thrown to the wolves. But, no, it’s just Gojo.
Just him that can ruin you like this, split you apart on his cock, have his blindfold wrapped around your cute neck.
“Jus’ me.” he gasps, blindfold tightening, phone so shaky. “He can’t compare to me. Fuck- fuck he can never compare.” His heavy balls sting your ass, merciless. “Can never be me.” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy, like he was running on pure adrenaline and the need to prove to the camera that he could ruin you like he promised. “Never. You’re mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to ruin.” Tightening. “Mine to break.”
“Sh-shit- you’re too much, Toru.”
“You agree, right?” he suddenly sounds so serious. Knuckles whitening against the blindfold. “No one can hngh- do it like m-me?” Blood roaring in your ears, vision getting spotty, like he wouldn’t let up until he hears what he wants. “No one?”
“Hah- fuck, no one-” you wheeze through his grip, “Only you, Toru.”
Then you’re cumming.
And Gojo’s not far behind as he buries himself deeper to stuff you so full of his seed, chasing peak after peak and the sinful feeling of your gummy walls being so dripping wet - with him.
And what a view it was - his girl’s poor pussy so overfilled. You catch the way it drips down the side, cum pooling at Gojo’s twitching balls. Such an obscene white, that it makes Gojo him about painting it all over again. Yeah, his favorite view - and the camera’s too.
“Almost too good of a view.” he grins, looking up at you with twinkling eyes that definitely didn’t bode well for your poor, ravaged pussy - or your sanity. “N’ I just exchanged numbers with that new Kyoto teacher…”
A/N. Also happy pride month hehe.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#nanami smut#tonywrites#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#choso x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#toji x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#toji fushiguro smut#nanami x reader smut#choso x reader smut#geto x reader smut
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I seriously think the bos was created specifically to piss me off........that was 100% the intention
#listen i havent played 1 and 2 (YET!!!!) so idk what the original intention of them was#but i feel like we have become so far removed from whatever the og point of them was tht its not even fair to call them the same faction#like the change from 3 to 4 alone already felt like such a HUGE jump imo#but now theres whatever the fuck theyve got going on in the show#idk im just making snap judgements ig based on stuff ive heard + ep 1 so far#but its just insane to me how the bos kinda drowns out everything else in the series atp#would LOVE to see some new content. literally anything. please god can we have some originality again. anyone here a fan of originality.#ANYWAYS I LOST THE POINT OF THE POST BC IM TIRED BUT ALL OF THIS TO SAY- FUCK THE BOS!!!!#IM SICK OF HEARING ABOUT THEM!!! ITS TIRED AND WORN OUT LETS ALL MOVE ONNNNNNNUH#i am speaking
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(part of the Wife at First Sight series)
In Ghost’s eyes, the first time you smiled up at him was the moment you became his and his alone.
So what if everyone apart from you knew it?
Didn’t make it any less of a fact, as far as he was concerned.
Still though, he wanted to learn more about just who his pretty little wife was, including anything that might make letting you know about your marriage a little easier. And so like the good soldier he is, he goes about it as though it were a reconnaissance mission.
He asks you how you take your coffees and teas, holding his breath as he watches you take the first sip of whichever drink he’s made you that day, pride swelling in his chest when you tell him it’s perfect, even better than when you make it.
The first time he’d done so, your eyes widened in surprise when he put his large, gloved hands over yours where they were wrapped around the mug, leaning forward and bringing the rim to his lips where he took a sip for himself, eyes locked with yours. You were unsure of what to think or say, but he apparently decided for you that this was okay, returning the warm drink to your mouth where he encouraged you to take another sip.
You figured that it was alright, he did make the tea for you after all, right?
You even laughed when he started only serving you in a mug with ‘Mrs.’ printed across the side, certain that it hadn’t been in any of the common room’s cupboards before.
He eyes the book peeking out of your bag one morning as you tuck it away, purchasing his own copy the very same day, curious to know what you like reading. You’re pleasantly surprised, if not a tad confused, when you find the next two books in the trilogy sat atop your desk soon after, a small note written in chicken scratch lain on top reads ‘To : Wife’. He’ll make a point of commenting on the novel if he sees you holding it, slipping in tid bits of information to impress you show he’s read it as well, likes the same things you like.
He’ll joke about how the food on the dining hall is always subpar, trying to casually find out what you like eating, subtly pulling out his phone and typing anything new into his notes app where he’s been keeping track of all your likes and dislikes. He just wants to get things right with you, be good for you, prove he can be the husband you need. You’re already perfect in his eyes, his sweet little soulmate who just doesn’t know it yet.
Though this was the first military base you’d ever worked on, you couldn’t recall anyone having ever warned you about the way Lieutenants apparently like to haze the new hires, never mind the fact that everyone else was apparently in on it.
No one bats an eye when you go to take the empty seat next to him in a briefing, and he wraps his strong arms around you to instead plop you down onto his muscular thighs, carrying on with the task at hand as though this is perfectly normal and professional. Even the Captain hardly glances at the interaction, so you figure it’s okay, some strange form of team bonding?
Not a soul comments on the way the Lieutenant insists on being the one to cut up your food and feed you bites during meals in the dining hall, pretending as though they don’t hear him telling you about how “my wife works hard enough, don’t need to be liftin’ a finger wit’ me around, love.”
They know to move out of the way if you’re approaching a closed door, knowing if the Lieutenant is anywhere near, he’ll be rushing to open the door for you before you can even attempt to do it yourself.
Even Soap has stopped complaining aloud and only rolls his eyes when Ghost drops anything and everything he’s doing- whether it’s spotting the Sergeant in the gym, being out on a morning run, hell even being in the middle of a shower- to send you a good morning text at six o clock on the dot. Every. Single. Morning.
No, you never exactly anticipated this sort of a running gag from a hardened military base, but you’re not exactly complaining either.
Not when you find your heart fluttering every time your fake work husband dotes on you like he really would marry you at the drop of a hat.
Besides, it’s all just playful, innocent fun, right?
Especially when everyone begins to apparently forget your name and instead refers to you only as Mrs Riley.
And when the Captain tells you that your requested time off for a honeymoon has been approved, something which you definitely don’t remember requesting, well that’s all just fun too, right?
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fic#simon riley#simon ghost riley#cod fanfic#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#cod simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon fluff#ghost x you#cod simon ghost riley#ghost fanfic#you guys are all so nice to me#call of duty ghost#ghost cod#simon ghost riley x you#readwritealldayallnight
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