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reignpage · 6 days ago

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The Other Man

Your worst nightmare is avoiding your eyes.

Still sweating and slightly out of breath from the sprint you made from your home to the hospital, you try to wipe your hands down the material of your jeans, and you’re mortified to find them shaking.

Is it from adrenaline or from fear?

When they said they found your husband, alive, and he’s been fixed up all brand new, you thought everything would be fine, that things would go back to normal. Your home will finally stop being so stifling, you won’t burn a hole through your carpet from all the pacing like your friend tried to joke, and you no longer have to hold yourself at night just to stop from hyperventilating.

But when you look at his eyes and see only confusion and a drop of anxiety, you know something’s gone terribly wrong.

“He suffered trauma to the head and we noticed no signs of it during surgery, so the symptoms only showed up now. We’re sorry we hadn’t been able to warn you ahead of time,” the doctor says.

Maybe now your hands are shaking from anger.

You step towards the doctor, the sterile smell of latex gloves and death stinging your nose, and you splutter out, “What are you talking about? What’s wrong with my husband? Why is no one just telling me straight up?”

He flinches.

They both do.

You don’t feel bad, can’t feel bad.

The doctor opens his mouth and he’s explaining, rambling about all sorts of medical terms you don’t know and it’s likely he’s doing it to distract you, or punish you, but you do hear one word. It registers and sends a static ringing through your ears.

“It would seem your husband has developed retrograde amnesia.”

Amnesia.

When he finishes, a silence takes over, filling up the room and pressing you to the walls, daring you to suck in a breath. A beat or two passes whilst he wait for either one of you to say something, ask something, anything. But no one does, so he leaves and immediately you wish he stayed.

“Hi.”

His voice breaks you out of your internal panicking. It has a slight quiver, perhaps from the deep sleep he had been under, or the exhaustion that had built up, the price to pay for saving so many people in one night. The reports said, on the night he disappeared, that there had been many curses, strong ones, gathered in an organised attack, an ambush. They had backed your husband in a corner and pushed him to his limits.

They did this.

You try to smile.

“Hi, baby, how you doing?”

There’s a blush forming across his cheeks and you smile for real, finding his embarrassment adorable, but then it drops just as quick when he clears his throat, as if setting a boundary.

“So,” he drags out, “you’re my wife, huh?”

What’s the procedure for losing your loved one to an internal injury so bad you feel it cut deep? What’s the etiquette? Because you’re so sure screaming at him to stop playing this cruel joke is probably not a good idea; you already know what the doctors would say.

It would be unwise to push him.

Your steps are hesitant but you push through that invisible force keeping you back. You need to touch him, need to feel that, despite it all, he’s warm and real and breathing — at least one of you has to be.

He looks up at you from your position beside his bed and watched your hand lift towards his face. He doesn’t move, he steels himself for your sake, you know it, because your husband has always been the kindest, most empathetic man you’ve ever met.

Then you cradle his slightly cut up cheek and tears stream down before you even know it, a laugh bubbles out and you sob it out. He’s really alive.

“I’m so happy you came back.”

He smiles, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s still a genuine smile and your heart leaps. If he can smile at you like that even without the pull of the shared memories of his time with you, then surely there’s hope. Because through his dazzling eyes, always dazzling, you believe there’s a huge box of everything he had filed on you, on his love for you, his wishes and desires for for you both. It’s just locked away at the moment, but you’ll find a key.

You have to.

“I must have been pretty great to bag a gorgeous woman like you.”

“The greatest.”

He laughs in surprise. He did that every time you played along, because no one else ever had, not his own family or his friends, and not even himself.

And the hours pass by with him asking questions and you answering patiently, despite the stab at your chest from every moment he forgot, every special occasion he doesn’t remember, and you both relive the bad times, the terrible times.

Except he’s going it through for the first time.

All the nurses and doctors filter in and out, changing this, emptying that, wiping here, walking there, and throwing all sorts of information at you. Eventually, they give you a care pack full of pamphlets filled with numbers and websites for support, letting you know he’s free to leave, but that check-ups will have to be frequent to monitor his progress.

You can tell he’s getting tired; you don’t blame him, it’s been too much too fast. So you tell him, “Alright, handsome, it’s time to go home.”

He cheers up at that, eagerly packing and hobbling out of the hospital and into your car. The car ride home isn’t quiet like you had dreaded, it’s loud, bustling with more questions and excited remarks.

“No way. He ate that finger? That’s so funny.”

“Oh, his hair is really that spiky? And she puts up with both of them? Wow.”

“He’s still teaching? That’s great.”

When you pull up to the house at the end of the street, all the lights are off and you feel a little embarrassed that it doesn’t look inviting, and of course you forgot to clean up the dishes and vacuum the carpet. Maybe you should have gotten balloons and streamers, maybe invited his friends. You know the doctor said don’t overwhelm him, but they’ll definitely come knocking sooner than later.

That’s how loved your husband is.

You have a bashful smile when you finally glance up at him, both walking up to the door, and it plummets at the disappointed look on his face. He doesn’t care about the lights, only that the home he had been expecting is the one across the city, the one you had made him move out of years ago so you could live together as a soon to be wedded pair.

Now, he’ll have to live in your home as a guest, borrowing your cups and plates, and wearing clothes he didn’t buy but the other man did, and then he’ll be sleeping next to you.

A stranger.

You gulp the horrified scream down and, with shaky hands, you unlock the door, ignoring the overwhelming feeling that you’re losing an uphill battle, that things will never be the same, and he’ll never love you, not like he did.

Your husband is loyal to a fault; he won’t leave you, not because he loves you, not because he can’t imagine being anywhere else but here, with you, but because there’s a ring on his left finger that he keeps playing around with like it feels wrong to have it on.

And the realisation that you don’t care, that you have enough love for the both of you, that you want, need, to have him in any way he’ll let you, creates a dull ache in your stomach.

You don’t try to smile when you turn to him, even when he does.

All you say is,

“Welcome home, Satoru.”

#jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk drabble #jjk oneshot #Gojo Satoru #Gojo angst #Gojo x reader #Gojo oneshot

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starniolosposts · 8 months ago

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impulsive

pairing: chris sturniolo x reader

summary: chris impulsively texts you, and it end up with him between your thighs.

warnings: smut, face sitting, short oneshot

notes: hope you like it, don’t read if you don’t like sexual content! ill make more fluff in the future! btw pink is texts

chris: hi, can you sit on my face??

you: dont know where this is coming from but yes i can

chris: really? like actually? you’re serious?

you: how about you come over and i can show you how serious i am?

chris: omw

“fuck fuck fuck.” you whined, head falling foward to stare down at your best friend between your thighs.

you let out a cry as his lips sucked roughly around your clit, your knuckles turning white as you clutched onto your headboard.

chris’ eyes rolled to the back of his head, getting drunk off the taste of you. he couldn’t get enough of your pussy, veined hands gripping onto your thighs to keep you in place. he forced you to ride his face until you screamed from his tongue and mouth, shaking and convulsing. he still didn’t stop though, but its not like you wanted him to.

your glazed over eyes found his lovestruck ones peering up at you as he slowly flicked his tongue into your dripping pussy, making your legs tremble at the sight. this was something you had fantasized about but never thought would come true, considering chris was your best friend and never indicated he had wanted anything more.

“o-oh my god, i’m cumming again.” you squealed, muscles tensing weakly as you orgasmed once again. he groaned into your cunt at the taste of your cum dribbling down into his mouth, your hips jerked in over-sensitivity as he continued his tongue movements with vigor.

“c-chris! i cant!” you whimpered, trying to pull off of him but his hands pulled your pussy back down towards his panting mouth, making you sob in overstimulation.

“stop moving. you’ll cum as many times as i say, alright?” he murmured, softly kissing your clit and making you flinch from the burning pleasure. it was borderline painful, but that just made you moan more and louder.

“h-hurts! oh fuck, feels so f-fucking good.” you cry out, your hips now subconsciously rocking against chris’ mouth, seeking out the scorching pain and pleasure he gives you over and over and over.

“you like sitting on my face, baby? my tongue in your pussy?” he lewdly asks while catching his breath, hands massaging your thick thighs that tighten around his head. jesus, he would happily live and die here on this bed, with you sitting on his face.

you mindlessly nod, small tears building in your waterline. your definitely disheveled, your hair is a mess, eyes half lidded, and mouth slightly parted.

he smacks his hand down on your thigh when you don’t answer, making you gasp. he could feel your cunt clench.

“answer me, y/n. or did i fuck you too stupid to speak?”

chris’ words only make you whine and move your hips, trying to get him to just continue even if you knew it would hurt to orgasm again. you wanted it.

he doesn’t comply. he starts to tease you, kissing and biting your inner thighs but not going to where you want him.

you groan in frustration, body trembling with need as your chest heaves with heavy breaths. your pussy clenches around nothing, and you know he can tell his teasing is affecting you by the smirk on his glistening lips.

“what is it, y/n? did i really fuck you stupid? use your words.”

you glare down at him as your pleasure fades away, but the constant throb of need is there. “chris.” you grumble, sighing as he kisses your thigh.

“there ya go, atta girl. now tell me what you want.” his voice is low and causing goosebumps to rise on your hot skin.

“i want you.” you whisper honestly, and you lock half lidded eyes with him. you both know you mean that in more ways than one, not just sexually.

chris’ adams apple bobs as he swallows and then smiles with relief and infatuation. “good. i want you too.”

“then hurry up, chris.” you whine, bringing your hips down in a desperate motion, “please fuck me.”

(not proofread or edited)

#christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #smut #tropes #fanfic #smutty fanfiction #smutty smut smut

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tojisun · 3 months ago

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THAT BLOOD AS LUBE THING!!!! HERES MY TAKE!!!!!!

Logan having been punched in the mouth so many times that when he has you finally bent over, your both panting and full of aggressive adrenaline with your knees pushed up to your chest, his giant hands splayed over the backs of your thighs, he lets a bloody string of spit fall from his mouth and onto your exposed cunt from where he’s absolutely shredded the crotch of your costume.

THIS SEXY THING IN REFERENCE TO THAT? GODDAMN YEA cw: smut; f!reader; blood as lube; fucking in public; thrashing bcuz of oversensitivity - all consensual; a touch of poolverine/reader poly :3 this is v short im sorry! // divider by @/plutism!

the guttural hunger ripples in waves as logan tears through your pants, each rip sending his hackles rising, the tension between the two of you brewing, until he’s got you fully bare and ready for him. your scent hits him hard, and he almost buckles down, his cock jumping underneath his suit, before he’s got your thighs cushioning either side of his head.

he takes in a greedy drag, nose flaring at the waft of your aroma—so wet and messy and all his.

logan’s eyes flick up to you for a moment—a question—and you give him the subtlest of nods, and it’s all he needs to pry his maw open. the thick string of blood and spit mixed together falls like a diabolical glob on your cunt, and watching him do this makes your breath hitch.

everything about this is rugged, animalistic, but it is also so, so hot. you try to rationalize past your need, telling yourself that this isn’t the right time to be fucked, not when logan’s bleeding all over your cunt, but a rough tongue presses flat on your slit and your thoughts are razed into fractures.

you keen, bucking in his hold, as your hands fly to grip anything you can, trying so desperately to ground yourself. logan doesn't let you, digging in like a man starved and aching; he ruts his bloodied mouth all over your pussy, hot tongue fucking past your folds and into the tight ring of your cunt, and slurps.

“fuck!” you cry out, fists tightening around whatever remains of your pants. your head falls backwards, exposing your throat as you scream.

logan can eat pussy, you’ve known that for years, but there is a curl of something primal in the way he eats you out tonight—all filthy and overwhelming, his silence making you feel ever more so like a prey being devoured. tears are already springing up from your eyes, beading, until a sob wretches itself from your throat because it’s—

it’s too good!

you’re babbling nonsense, you realize later, your words slurring when you beg and moan, telling him how it’s too much and how he needs to stop—“please ‘gan!”—as you feel your mind getting scrambled with the intensity of this all. you try to dislodge yourself from his hold, thrashing, but logan pushes you down with a firm hand on your belly, subduing every effort to rip his mouth off from your cunt.

you’re fully crying now, shaking, and you try warning him that you’re about to cum—the dregs of your ecstasy peaking with every lick and sharp teeth dragging to nip at your folds and at your clit—but you can’t. you’re too drunk off of the pleasure, and your body feels like a rubber pulled taut, ready to snap as your climax builds—

tipping—

then logan’s pulling away with a snarl.

“no!” you keen, sobbing, trembling hands reaching to pull him back before your euphoria dies down, but logan’s already straightening up and folding himself over you, his bulk easily covering you. “i wan’ cum! logan, please—”

“shh,” he coos, like he isn’t wet with your slick and his tan skin tinged with the slightest of red. you see yourself on his beard, droplets of your slick glinting like little diamonds as he leans in.

he pushes your hair away from your face with a grin, and it looks mean but not unkind; just teasing because he knows how much your need has grown. he must have. no one knows your body more than anyone else, after all, and you are sure that he knew that you were there, on the throes of your orgasm, waiting for it to spill into a stuttering blanket of white.

“i’ve got you, darl,” he continues, like he didn’t just edge you off. “gon’ fuck you good now—prepared you nice f’me, after all.”

oh.

you hiccup, still glaring up at him with vitriol despite the promise, but you feel yourself loosening up as the tension leaves your body. he hums, still petting your cheek, and you grumble, looking away because you can’t stand the force of his attention—all that crinkled-eye smile and raggedly endearing taunts he chirps at you.

logan hums, satisfied at seeing you placated, then he’s moving back up again. the action draws air into your exposed cunt and you move to shut your legs close, at least even for a bit, but he wrenches them apart with a heavy hand pressing down on your inner thigh, and slots himself properly between your legs. you roll your eyes at him, dutifully ignoring the way your cheeks are warming up at being so exposed before logan while he’s still all clothed with his suit.

he chuckles with a fond shake of his head, and paws for the zipper on his suit. the sound of it dragging makes you twitch, feeling hypersensitive again. you feel him getting excited too, his chest heaving when he finally pulls his cock out from his pants. you stare at it, still so unused to the size because logan’s big, yes, and he’s big everywhere—from his thighs to his delts, and now his cock.

it’s girthy, webbed with thick veins, and leaking; pearly pre- beading on the head, and nothing has ever made your mouth water more than seeing it.

you want it in you, yes, but fuck, you want your throat stuffed too. want it fucked raw and ruined; want to be used by logan—

but your cunt is wet and itching, and you want to cum so, so bad.

you wonder what you must have looked because logan’s stuffing his fingers in your mouth, as though in placation, and you suck on them, greedy, not minding the faint taste of earth and salty sweat. it makes you even headier, filling you up with the reminder of where you two are, and you whimper, need bloating, because fuck, you need him now.

logan is still quiet even when he taps his cock over your clit, sending goosebumps to rise all over your skin.

“ready, pretty bird?” he asks like he can’t smell the desperation rolling off of you.

still, you nod, and you try your best to relax because you feel so worked up already with all the dragging—

then, logan’s pushing in, in, in, and you are gone.

you don’t even know how many time’s you’ve cum now, only that your cunt is oversensitive and your thighs are a sticky mess and your throat is hoarse, but it must have been hours because the sky has turned dark, almost pitch black, and there’s nothing else but you and logan—

the sound of boots crinkling against rocks makes you freeze, your sharp senses breezing past the euphoric pressure being pounded into your cunt, before you put a hand over logan’s chest, making him stop.

with only the sounds of ragged breathing, the two of you hear where the echoing footsteps are coming from. still perched on your back—and speared by logan’s cock—you tip your head up, not minding the upside-down perspective of your surroundings.

logan groans the moment a familiar red suit walks into view. wade’s got his mask pulled up just enough that you two see his grin, then—

“and where’s my invitation?”

logan groans again, while you give out a breathy chuckle, pussy clenching around logan’s cock. he bucks in with a confused grumble.

what? your throat is still pretty lonely, after all.

wade was lounging atop a building when he sees his two favourite people fight— wait they’re— oh? oh.

#anon #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #wolverine smut #deadpool x reader #<- briefly mentioned only :((#ask #suns

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7seas-of-ryy · 4 months ago

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I Need You | Part 4

Author’s Note: I can't thank you guys enough for reading my writing. I'm looking forward to your thoughts on this part <3

Summary: You were saved but you still have so many questions. Trying to sort everything out might be harder than it seems.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Talks of torture, self hatred, angst, let me know if I need to add any others :)

"I've healed her as much as I can. Now she needs rest." you heard Madja speak

Darkness.

"I failed her, Rhys" you heard Cassian cry softly

Darkness.

"Thank you for saving her" you heard Feyre gently speak

Darkness.

"I forgot about her, then let Elain convince me to stay for longer. Let her convince me that y/n would be ok waiting a little bit longer for me." Azriel yelled

Well, that explains why he didn't show up.

"She's awake" Rhys stated

Both of the Illyrian males hurried over to you.

"Hey sunshine, how are you feeling" Your High Lord and good friend smiled softly down at you

"I'm fine" you whispered, voice hoarse from all the screaming you had been doing

Rhys hesitated, clearly knowing you were not fine. He didn't want to push you but he couldn't leave you alone after everything that just happened.

"Cassian told me most of what happened but there are certain parts he can't fill in. I don't want you to have to relive it but it might help us figure out why you were their target" he spoke so softly, as if speaking too loud would break you

Once he asked to see, it all hit you. The questions about Nyx, so many questions about him, you started to panic. Tears filled your eyes. He needed to know, he needed to understand that you didn't tell your torturers anything. You started hyperventilating, panicking, you had to let him know you were strong enough to withstand the pain.

"Rhys I promise I never broke. I never told them anything. No matter how much they hurt me, I swear. They asked so many times but I never broke, I swear I promise I was strong-" your sobs cut you off and Rhys bent down and pulled you into a tight hug.

"Shh I know. You did so well, please don't worry about any of that" he spoke into your neck, his own tears now pouring down his face.

You couldn't control yourself. Still terrified of saying, doing the wrong thing. You were shaking and crying hysterically. You knew they needed to see what you were tortured over so you sent the thought out hoping Rhys would understand what you were doing. He knew immediately, standing up and giving you a small nod.

You showed him everything, still shaking and crying. Azriel reached out for you and you let him. You needed anything, anyone to anchor you. He wrapped his arms around you and you cried in his chest.

Azriel looked at Rhys and saw the pained look on his face as the scene was happening in his head. Once he saw it all, he ran out of the room muttering something about a sleep tonic. The shadowsinger held you even tighter as if he could put all the pieces of you back together.

"I'm so sorry, you needed me and I wasn't there. I'm so sorry, so so sorry...." He kept repeating. You wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, to help take away the guilt he was feeling but all you could think about was Cass repeating that same thing in the dungeon.

Just like that, the terror built up inside you. Your mind tricking you into thinking you were back in the chains being tortured. You started kicking and screaming, Azriel holding you down so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

"Rhys, you got that sleep tonic? Anytime now!" He shouted hoping his friend was coming

Moments later, Rhys winnowed in the room with Madja. Once she assessed the situation, she looked grim.

"Sleep tonics will not work, this is too severe. Move, boy." Madja spoke, pushing the spymaster away and setting her hands on you.

You started to settle and slowly fell asleep.

"This won't last long. I can only fix the physical pain or symptoms. Her mind tricked her body into thinking she was being tortured again. I eased that pain but it will take a lot more to ease the pain inside her," the healer looked at them with sorrow, "I'm sorry but this is as much as I can do for her."

Azriel immediately sat in the chair next to your bed, holding your hand with both of his. Rhys patted him on the back and left to try and figure more out.

You slept for 2 straight days, with Az never leaving your side. He couldn't believe he let this happen. You were his best friend, and more than that he had always been in love with you. After everything with Mor, he couldn't risk getting hurt again or losing you so he pushed his feelings away. It was the most painful thing he had done and once Elain came along he thought it would be easier to keep himself wrapped up in her.

He deeply regretted that now. You would hate him now. He forgot about you, left you there alone. He wouldn't be surprised if you never spoke to him again.

Lucien slowly entered the room, "How is she?" he asked Azriel

"Not great but she'll get there... thank you," his voice broke, "I haven't gotten a chance to tell you yet, thank you for saving her"

Lucien nodded at the male, a solemn look upon his face, "She didn't deserve any of this. I knew you and Elain had been spending time together and it pissed me off. She's my mate, but I knew she wanted you and not me, so I suffered in silence because I thought I deserved it..." he paused, "Y/n has always been kind to me. Accepted me the moment she saw me with Feyre. Offered her company when she knew Elain was away with you so I wouldn't have to be alone. She did not deserve any of this. She did not deserve to be pushed aside and forgotten."

Azriel stared at him, stunned. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it not knowing what to say, opened it again, "...I-"

"Do not hurt her again." Lucien stated, cutting him off and walked out of the room with one last look at you.

His shadows swirled around him, covering his neck to comfort him. They had been all over you for the most part. Wrapped around your arms and legs or nuzzled in your hair. After a while they whispered to him, she's waking up.

Your eyes slowly opened and the male at your side quickly stood to grab you some water. He helped you sit up in the bed against the wall and you both sat in silence for a while. You could tell he hadn't been sleeping, the bags under his eyes were the worst they had ever been.

"Sunshine" Az said, and it made you flinch.

You felt like your soul was the darkest its ever been. You weren't sunshine, you were storms and pain. You felt disgusted with yourself, hated yourself for being caught so easily. For allowing Cassian to be taken and have to witness everything. You hated yourself for causing everyone so much trouble and pain. You wished you died in that dungeon.

Cassian, Rhys, and Feyre all walked in. Feyre had a kind, hesitant smile, Rhys looked relieved that you were awake and not freaking out, and Cassian wouldn't even look at you. You assumed he was probably upset with you for dragging him into this and getting him tortured.

"Do you know why they picked me?" you asked quickly, so you wouldn't have to keep seeing their sad looks

"We're still not entirely sure. We know they were trying to find out things about Nyx but they could have taken any one of us for that." Feyre stated

"Maybe they thought I was the weakest and easiest to get answers out of?" you guessed.

"No, it felt very personal towards you y/n. It was like he hated you, don't get me wrong, he enjoyed beating me up but he was ecstatic to hurt you" Cassian spoke, still avoiding eye contact

"How did Lucien even find us?" you asked

"All he said was that Eris sent him a location and told him he needed to get there right away but that no one could see him there. Once he got there, he heard your screams and ran to save you. We've been trying to contact Eris but he hasn't responded." Rhys spoke

"I'm going to find whoever did this, and I'm going to slowly tear them to shreds" Azriel growled softly, still holding your hand.

"I don't understand what I did wrong-" you voice wavered and there it was. The look everyone was giving you made you feel sick. They knew you were broken now, you couldn't hide it anymore. You coughed to try and cover up the weakness in your voice.

"But we'll figure it out and I'll be ok. We'll all be ok. Now, I'm starving so I would love to join you guys for a meal tonight." You tried to smile at them. You needed them to think you were fine, that you were strong. They didn't need a weak link in their group. The last thing you wanted to do was eat but you figured that might convince them you were all good.

The four of them stared at you as if you grew a third eye on your head.

"Maybe you should take it easy, I can bring some food to you" Azriel suggested.

"Yeah that would be easier" the rest of them agreed.

"C'mon guys seriously, I'm fine. Give me a couple minutes to get dressed and I'll head down. I can try to help figure out what this is all about before we eat." you said weakly

"No. You are staying up here and resting. If you are hungry, one of us will get you food." Rhys commanded in a tone that left no room for negotiation.

"Is that an order from my High Lord or an order from my boss" you asked harshly

"It's an order from your friend." he softly stated, "let us know if you need anything"

The three of them left but Az stayed at your side. You didn't want to be alone but you also didn't want anyone to see you fall apart, which was about to happen any minute.

"Az, can you give me some time alone? I just need to think" you felt bad but you needed to be strong

Azriel gave you a sad smile, nodded, and headed for the door. The second it clicked shut, your facade fell apart. You began softly crying, you laid there all night like that until you finally cried yourself to sleep.

You didn't see the lone shadow in the corner of your room watching over you, and you didn't know Azriel slept outside your room on the floor all night long just in case you needed him.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

@darkbloodsly @xtreme-shipper @rcarbo1 @shamelessdonutkryptonite @anna-reader-blog

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#azriel shadowsinger #acotar imagine #azriel acotar #acotar #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel angst #azriel x you

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ladysharmaa · 8 months ago

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Worry

Jay Halstead x reader

Summary: When Y/n has an accident with Jay's car, she fears his reaction. However, she is surprised by the real reason for his concern

Y/n was still thinking about everything that had gone wrong that day. Her head hurt, probably from the cut on her forehead and the bruise that was beginning to form on her cheek. However, the guilt that settled in her body was the worst of all.

It all started when she woke up late for work. Since she was still an intern at the company, Y/n couldn't be late, or her boss would be even more unpleasant than usual. On top of that, she didn't have a car, as she left it at her house and spent the night at Jay's, her boyfriend of five months, who had picked her up from work.

So Jay lent her the car, saying Hailey could give him a ride. Little did she know that this would be the worst decision ever. When she was returning home at the end of the day, she was at an intersection when suddenly a dog ran into the street. As she tried to avoid it, she hit a car coming in the opposite direction.

The impact was enough for her to hit her head on the steering wheel, hence the cut and bruise. She was so scared, her ears were ringing and she only managed to come out of the shock when the driver of the other car got out of his vehicle and started banging on her window, screaming angrily at her.

Y/n's eyes burned with tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks, but the girl tried to stop them from falling. It would just make her more pathetic, she thought. Other drivers saw what had happened and called 911 and told them what had happened. Fortunately, the other vehicle wasn't as damaged as Jay's.

Her injuries were attended to on the spot, something Y/n couldn't have been happier about. So Will, Jay's brother, couldn't see her and call her boyfriend, only scaring him when he was working. They even let her drive home, since the car was drivable and she could decide which workshop to take it to for repairs.

Now, Y/n was sitting on the couch, anxiously waiting for Jay to get home. She had already thought of many ways on how to tell Jay what happened, but none of them calmed her nerves. He was going to be so upset, he lent her the car and she couldn't even be trusted with that.

Finally, she heard the keys open the door and Jay's voice echoed through the house, "Babe, are you here?" he questioned, hoping she had come to his house instead of going to her small apartment.

"In the living room." she said, keeping her gaze on the ground, not having the courage to look her boyfriend in the eyes and reveal to him what had happened to his precious car.

"Hey, baby." Jay smiled when he saw her sitting on the couch.

However, a frown quickly formed on his face when she didn't get up to greet him. Normally she would jump into his arms and kiss every part of his face until finally kissing his lips passionately. It was his favorite part of the day.

Y/n finally looked up at him when she felt him approaching her. Her eyes filled with tears again and her throat tightened when she saw Jay's face change when he noticed his injuries. He immediately got down on his knees in front of her, gently holding her chin so he could move her face and inspect her cut and bruise. She also noticed the way his hands were shaking.

"What the hell happened?" he questioned, feeling his heart tighten. His gaze then hardened, "Who did this to you? I'll kill them."

"Jay, I'm so sorry." Y/n murmured, her eyes filling with even more tears, which made Jay worry even more. What the hell had happened to his girlfriend and who did he have to beat?

"Why are you apologizing? I'm not understanding, baby. Tell me what happened so that I can fix it, yeah?"

"Your car…" the girl sobbed, unable to say a sentence without tears falling down her cheeks. Jay pulled her to his chest, hugging her until she calmed down enough to tell her what had happened. "A dog crossed the road and when I tried to avoid it I hit a car. And you trusted me with your car and I crashed. I'm so sorry, Jay, I really am and—"

"Slow down, Y/n. Breathe." Jay asked, alarmed by how her face was getting redder since she still hadn't stopped to inhale. His thumb stroked her uninjured cheek, hoping it would comfort her.

"No, I'm sorry. The car is still drivable, but it has a dent and is scratched. But I can afford the repair. I just need a few weeks and talk to my boss to pay me in advance, but I swear I'll sort this out. I know you need a car for work but you can use mine and I'll use the bus in the meantime."

"Y/n!" Jay exclaimed so she would finally shut up and listen to him. He cupped her cheeks carefully, forcing her to look directly at him. "Listen to me, you won't pay for anything. I don't care about the car, I care about you. So please calm down and tell me you're not hurt anywhere else. Please."

"I'm okay." she admitted, seeing Jay's body relax a little and he sighed in relief, running a hand over his face. "I'm just a little sore from the impact. The car is worse."

"Stop talking about the damn car or I swear I'll take it to the scrap yard to be destroyed. I can buy another car or live without it, but I can't live without you. God, Y/n when I saw your face all hurt I thought I was going to have a heart attack."

"I'm sorry…"

"No more apologizing." Jay was quick to order, giving her a stern look, but nothing hid the concern and love that was evident in his eyes. "Why didn't you call me? Did you go to the hospital? What did they say?"

"I didn't go to the hospital. The paramedics saw me there and said everything was fine."

Jay didn't answer her, suddenly getting up and going straight to his cell phone. His jaw was clenched and he looked like he was ready to have another mini heart attack.

"Who are you calling? Please don't bother Will just so he can come here and see how I'm doing. I'm fine, I promise."

"Either Will comes here or we go to the hospital. There's no room for discussion."

Y/n looked down shyly, knowing she wasn't going to win this argument. So, she waited for Jay to finish her call, definitely dramatizing her situation to Will.

When he hung up, he sat down next to her on the couch and brought her into his arms again. Jay squeezed her, needing to calm down and reassure him that she was relatively okay and safe. He placed his face on her neck, breathing in her perfume, which gave him an immediate comfort.

"Why didn't you call me?" he murmured, his voice breaking. He had never felt so worried as he did at that moment. He wouldn't be able to live if something had happened to his girlfriend. She was the one. The love of her life.

"I didn't want to bother you. You were working."

"Y/n, you can never bother me. Please, call me when something happens. I don't care if it's for the simplest reason, call me. I need to know that you're okay. I would never be able to forgive myself if something bothered you happened and I didn't know anything about it."

"I will. Again, I'm really sor—"

Y/n couldn't finish speaking when Jay's lips were on hers, kissing her fervently. He put all the love he felt for her into that kiss, one hand behind her head and the other on her unhurt cheek. Y/n responded to her kiss, placing her hands on his broad shoulders and pulling him closer.

Hesitantly, they broke the kiss so they could breathe. Their faces were so close that they could feel each other's breaths. Y/n snuggled closer to him, loving the feeling of security that only Jay could give her.

"I love you." Jay admitted in a low voice, not wanting to break the comfortable silence. He was looking into Y/n's eyes intensely, showing how true those words were.

Y/n's eyebrows rose upon hearing her boyfriend's confession. It was the first time Jay had said that to her. Her stomach filled with butterflies and a big smile appeared on her face, which calmed the detective's nerves. "I love you."

"God, I love you so much, baby." Jay kissed her again, his hands moving down to her waist.

However, their little make-out session was interrupted by a doorbell. Jay went to open the door, his lips slightly swollen and a smile on his face. However, he returned to his worried state when the doctor started treating Y/n.

His brother was under Jay's attentive gaze, analyzing everything the redhead did with crossed arms. When Will touched Y/n's bruised cheek and she flinched, the detective stepped forward and glared at his brother. "Careful."

Will gave him a look over his shoulder as if saying I'm the doctor here, but didn't open his mouth. Jay was stressed and Will didn't blame him, he knew how much his younger brother liked this girl. He had even told her about asking her to marry him with his mother's ring.

"I think everything is fine apart from that cut, which doesn't need stitches, and ice the bruise. Hmm, the pressure is still a little high. Has anything happened that could have stressed you even more apart from the accident?" Will asked in doctor mode.

"Uhm…" Y/n hesitated, looking shyly at Jay. "Well, let's just say the other driver wasn't too happy about me hitting his car. He was a little scary."

The silence that formed was horrible. Will cringed, knowing that Jay was going to completely flip out. He was already a nervous wreck, and this was only going to make his mood and worry worse. As expected by both, the detective let out a series of curse words, taking his hands to his hair and pulling it. He closed his eyes and clenched his wrists, trying to control himself. At that moment, he needed to comfort his girlfriend and then he would deal with the man who scared her.

"You know the car's registration number, right?" Jay asked her when he calmed down slightly. He sat on the couch, pulling Y/n onto his lap, feeling the need to always be touching her. Y/n nodded. "Good. I'll deal with him later."

"Well, it looks like my work here is done. Y/n, ice your cheek and disinfect the cut. If you feel any discomfort or pain, don't hesitate to call me."

"You sure she doesn't need to go to the hospital, Will?" Jay kissed Y/n's neck, feeling her snuggle closer to him and closing her eyes as she yawned.

"Nothing seems wrong. She just needs to rest and recover."

"Okay. Thanks, man."

"Thank you, Will." the girl opened her eyes and smiled slightly. Then she turned to Jay who instead of making an effort to get up, tightened his arms around her. "Aren't you going to accompany your brother out?"

"He knows the way out." he muttered. Will rolled his eyes, but smiled at the couple and left. He knew Jay would never let Y/n out of his sight again.

Jay kept tracing her cheek lovingly, which was making Y/n sleepy. "Are you tired, baby?"

"Yeah."

"Go to sleep. I'm going to take the week off and I will also call your boss saying you won't be going to work until you get better." Jay said, kissing her forehead.

"That's not necessary. I feel fine." Y/n tried to argue.

"It won't work, Y/n. You're going to stay at home and rest so I can take care of you. I need to know you are safe and okay. And the only way to know that is to have you in my arms. I'll never let you go."

"I kind of like that idea." she chuckled.

"Good." he said, continuing to soothe her into unconsciousness. When he felt Y/n's breathing calm down, indicating that she was asleep, Jay pulled out his phone, calling Voight. "I need you to research the owner of a vehicle. Find what you can to get him arrested, parking tickets, speed limits, I don't care. He scared my girl."

"You got it, Jay. Take care of Y/n."

"I will. Bye." he hung up and focused his attention on his girlfriend again. She was so perfect. "I love you, baby. So much."

#jay halstead x you #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x oc #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd #will halstead x reader #chicago fire #chicago med #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead x female reader

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bandgie · 6 months ago

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In Pixie Dust We Trust

synopsis: You're content with being Chris's best friend for all eternity. It doesn't matter how big your heart is, you're small where it matters most. That's what you think at least.

warnings: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, microphilia (reader is 7-10in/17-25cm), pussy eating, boobie sucking, reader used as a fleshlight (non-penetrative), cum eating (m!), jerking off, little bit of jealously in the beginning, does this count as monsterfucking? idk

notes: man, I did like 3 different rough drafts on this and said fuck it. ALSO?? I guess grammarly has limited help options now? fucking assholes

3.5k words

It would be impossible for Chris to hear you cheering for him amongst the dozens of shouting people, but you scream anyway.

“Go Chris!” You cup your hands around your mouth for extra volume, “Go, go, go!”

Mythics alike cheer for their representative species. Sirens, vampryes, lycans, and many more creatures roar for a winner. Despite the overwhelming number of Mythics, humans fill up a good portion of the audience to spur on Chris. He’s the only mortal in the swim meet, one of the rare humans to be able to compete against creatures like yourself.

Truthfully, you’re not too aware of the rules when it comes to swimming. Something about a certain amount of meters, certain strokes, and when you’re supposed to come up for air. The explanations went right over your head when Chris told them to you, but that doesn’t stop you from screaming your little lungs out.

“Jeez,” Felix rubs his ear. “Who would’ve thought a little pixie like you could scream so loud.”

You give him an apologetic smile. “Sorry!” You decide it’s better to find a better sitting spot. Felix’s shoulder is always your go-to seat, but you don’t want to burst his eardrums from your screams. Your wings flutter rapidly, raising you high until you plop on his blonde hair.

At least you didn’t have to pay for a seat. Being the mere size of a hand, you can easily sit on someone instead.

You lean to one side of Felix’s head, “This better?” He nods, making your grip on his hair so you don’t slip off. “Yeah. You can cheer for your human boyfriend all you want now.” Felix’s head lightly shakes as he laughs. A sheep shade of crimson creeps up your neck and you yank on his hair. “Shut up! He’s not my boyfriend!”

You only feel a little bad when Felix whines. He reaches his hand to fight you with the wiggle of his fingers that you slap away while giggling. “Ouch! That hurt.”

“Whatever,” you slap the final finger away. “You deserved it.” Felix scoffs, rolling his eyes though you can’t see. “For what? Saying the truth? I’m a nymph, baby. You can’t hide those feelings from me.”

Now it’s you who rolls their eyes. As much as you would want to argue with Felix, he’s right. You may have the best friend title when it comes to Chris, but you want Chris in a way you know you shouldn't. You want to feel him hold you, have his lips pepper kisses all over your magical body until you can’t breathe. He doesn’t know how much you yearn for him when you sit on his shoulder, your wings bashfully fluttering when he talks low just for you to hear.

It doesn’t do any good for you to think like that. It’s better to blink those thoughts away and keep cheering, pretending you’re perfectly fine with being Chris’s tiny best friend.

But pretending is never easy for a pixie. Having such a small body does nothing to lessen the emotions you feel. Felix is doing everything he can to keep you from flying away and sobbing your heart out. When you two went looking for Chris to congratulate him on placing in the top three, neither of you expected the many female Mythics and humans to praise him.

“Hey! He’s just feeling excited from the race, he’s just super hyped right now.” Felix laughs nervously. “It’s no biggie. They’re just all congratulating him.”

You wish that were true or that you believed it. Instead, you’re frozen at the sight of Chris smiling from whatever they’resaying. One of them goes as far as to whisper in his ear, earning a deep blush from his wet face. Felix panics more. “She just- She said- oh damn.”

It shouldn’t bother you. If anything, you should be happy that Chris is finally getting the attention he deserves. He deserves people supporting him. Someone who can give him a happy, normal-sized relationship even if they aren’thuman. Not a pixie who is barely bigger than the size of his hand.

You blink your tears away, ignoring the ugly lump in your throat as you dejectedly fly next to Felix’s face. “It’s fine. Let’sjust go.” Felix whips his head to you, eyes wide with sincerity. “No! Pixie, we came out here for him. We can at least say hi then leave right after.”

There’s a twinge of hope in his eyes. Felix has been rooting for you since you told him about your unrequited love. Although you would roll your eyes at his support most of the time, it did boost some confidence in you. Now you realize it was all foolish. A stupid dream you should have kept sleeping.

You shake your head, “I can’t face him, Lix. Not when every girl in this damn city is trying to make him their mate. It’snot like he’d notice me leaving anyway.”

“You’re leaving?” Chris’s voice makes you and Felix jump. His hair is flat against his head from the diving cap he was wearing. It drips with water, leaking down his beautiful face to his naked torso. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

It’s only for a brief moment that you’re stunned. You weren’t prepared to see him so quickly. “Y-”

“No,” Felix quickly interrupts you. “She meant when is everyone else gonna leave. It’s so stuffed in here.” Felix looks at you wide-eyed as if to say don’t say anything before looking at Chris. “But dude! Congratulations!”

Chris’s signature dimple appears on his face. He wraps an arm around the nymph’s shoulder and brings him in for a hug.“I totally thought I was gonna get last. Those sirens are fucking fast.”

The embrace doesn’t last too long, not when Chris is eager to hear you praise him.

“Yeah,” you nod. “It was really impressive. I’m so proud of you!” It’s hard for you to do your normal joyful screaming, not when the bashful look he gave the mythic girl still lingers in your mind. You try to wipe the memory from your mind to focus on the mortal winner standing before you. The half-naked mortal winner that is.

“Yeah?” Chris lightens up at your words. His shining eyes warm your heart and your jealousy suddenly feels silly. “Fuck yeah! I knew you were gonna at least place in the top 5. But top 3? That’s Olympic shit right there.”

The flush on Chris’s face says it all. He rubs the back of his neck and giggles, a small squeak emitting from the back of his throat. “I would say thaaat.”

Felix laughs at the two of you, patting Chris on the shoulder. “I saw this Korean restaurant nearby - it looks super good. Minho told me that the chefs are all human. We should go before it gets packed!” The three of you look amongst each other and nod, humming about how hungry Chris must be.

“You can save a spot for us, Felix,” Chris smiles at him. “We’ll be there soon.”

You and Chris wave Felix goodbye. You wait until he’s out of earshot before you ask Chris, “Are we gonna meet up with him later?”

Chris smiles ear to ear. “We are. I was really hoping you’d come back to my place for a surprise.” Excited is the best word to describe him right now. His eyes shine with what you think is mischievousness. You can’t help the butterflies in your stomach. You smile at him back, “Now? Dressed like that?”

“Oh shit.” Chris suddenly becomes aware of his nude attire, save for the tight speedo. “Let me change first, then we’ll to mine.”

The naughty look on his face wasn’t for nothing. Chris didn’t necessarily plan to have you like this; nude and whimpering, but he isn’t complaining either. His intentions were pure, really. He had set up his apartment all sweet, miniature roses that could easily fit in your palms as he asked you to be his lover.

You thought of everything wrong at first. How strange it might look for your dainty self to be involved with a human. For him to practically live in the waters while you stay in the sky. Different, too different to work you said. You couldn’t help but think of all the other Mythics flocking to him; ones that he could benefit from and most importantly, ones that he can properly love.

Yet, all your worries were washed away in his eyes, full of love and compassion. He would love you because you’re you, no matter what size.

Now you’re thinking there won’t be enough time to meet Felix at that restaurant he’s been revving about when Chris’stongue ravages your body. Kissing him felt weird enough, your lips barely able to lock with his bottom one. But having him lick and suck on every part of your body easily took the cake.

Chris is holding you gently in his palm, your wings tightly tucked into your back so he doesn’t accidentally get them wet. The tip of his tongue dips down into your cunt before it swipes up to your breasts. You can tell he’s trying to be romantic about it, but there’s nothing soft in the way he suckles on your tits, how his saliva drips down the curve of your mounds onto his palm.

“Shit,” you moan when Chris finds your sweet, tiny pussy again. “You’re getting me so wet.” In response, Chris pulls away. You whine at the loss of contact. Your body shivers in his hold from the lack of his hot mouth.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” But he doesn't look apologetic at all. Not when he’s looking at you as if he might take a bite. Not when he licks his lips at the sight of your body spread out in his palm, twitching and soaking.

You reach a small hand up and grab the tip of his nose, earning a giggle from his pretty lips. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” you push yourself up with an elbow to nuzzle against his face. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” the tips of his ears burn redder. “I like it too.”

The two of you share a laugh before you sprawl yourself back in his hold, opening your legs so his large tongue touches you where you need him most. Chris obediently nuzzles his tongue onto your cunt, flicking it upwards. Your hips chase the feeling, arching and twisting until he has to restrain you.

“Nooo,” you gently whine when he uses his fingers to pin your hands above your head. “Wanna feel it.”

Chris smiles, directing you to flatten your feet, spread your thighs, and arch until your back is completely lifted from his palm. It’s a weird position, but you wiggle in excitement when he leans his head down. “You will, baby,” he reassures.“Just gotta listen to me for a little, okay?”

You nod, forcing yourself still when you feel the familiar muscle on your core. It’s nearly similar to when you had the freedom to move, but there’s an extra layer of pleasure from being held back. For his tongue lick up and down, reaching up high to your stomach down to your ass. Chris doesn’t have to add much pressure, not when his tongue is half the size of your entire self.

The first taste of your orgasm builds when he swipes his tongue side to side. It moves your vulva perfectly, not focusing so much on your sensitive nub. Your hands grip his fingertips and you moan. “Channie…i’mma cum.”

He hums against your body, acknowledging your impending orgasm. Chris is too busy trying to get you on his taste buds. It’s more of a hint than a flavor of your pussy. If only Chris could drown in it. To feel these small thighs wrap around his head and yank him closer until all he can sense is you. But having your boobs and pussy in his mouth nearly at the same time is a huge win for him regardless.

Your walls clench, a clear sign that you only have mere seconds before you cum. Maybe you could ask Chris to put justthe tip of his pinky finger in. It would stretch you so much, so good. If you can’t take his cock, you’ll take the next best thing.

“In,” you mewl. “Want it in me.”

Chris raises an eyebrow at you, clearly confused by what you mean. He can’t put anything in you, he doesn’t even want to think about it. He shakes his head with your pussy in his mouth, back to focusing on the task at hand.

“Channie!” You nearly scream his name. “Please! I’ve been good. I’ve been so good! Just the tip of your finger and-”

He sucks hard, making your entire body move from the suction. You wail, digging the back of your head further into his palm. He sucks and licks, obviously trying to get your mind off of being filled and instead finishing on his tongue. It works because all you can think about is flooding Chris’s mouth with your juices. You think about how good it’s going to feel to have his big tongue on you, licking you up.

You dig your nails into his fingers and tense. Chris places the tip of his tongue perfectly on your clit and you finally cum.

He holds you while you shake. Chris can feel the trembling of your body, he can taste the essence of your orgasm, and he can hear your pretty little moans as you tip over. He can’t help but giggle at how your little hips roughly rock against his tongue. Deciding to give you a different sensation, Chris puts his tongue back in his mouth and puckers his lips instead. The plushness is the best way to ride out your high, gentle and soft.

You collapse in his hands when you come down. You can only whimper when he carefully nuzzles your body against his face affectionately. Chris peppers kisses on your body, from the top of your head to the soaked place between your thighs. It helps get you refocused by grounding yourself from his touch. You return his kisses, placing your hands on either side of his cheek and feeling his mouth against yours.

It feels like he’s trying to swallow you or maybe not trying to. You can’t really tell, but you don’t really mind. All you care about is how he whimpers against your lips, making you concerned about his state.

You pull from his lips and adjust in his hands until you’re sitting. “It hurts. Doesn't it, Channie?” You don’t need to specify what you’re talking about. Not when you can see the need in his eyes, the pout in his lips. Chris nods, almost ashamed.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he says. “I dunno what to do about it.”

He looks so dejected, so lost. Your wings untuck from your back and flutter until you’re lifted in the air. Chris’s eyes drop to your breasts as if he wasn’t just drooling on them minutes ago. You snap your fingers until he looks into your eyes. “I know what to do. Why don’t you sit down for me and let me take care of you now.”

You can tell he’s hesitant. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he doesn’t know how he wants to. Chris easilylistens to your instructions; how you want him stripped from the lower half, sitting on the couch with his legs sprawled open so his hard, leaky cock is pretty on display.

Chris looks nervous, you can tell by how he grabs a nearby pillow and hugs it to his chest. “Are you sure, baby? I don’twant you to hurt yourself.”

How endearing your lover is. Willing to sacrifice his pleasure for your comfort.

You fly to his lap and rest on a meaty thigh. “You don’t gotta worry your pretty little head about nothing, Channie.” You reach out a hand to rub it against his cock. “I can handle it.”

Before he can say anything else, you quickly find your place on his shaft with your back facing him. You gasp at the warmth, the thickness of his cock between your legs. Your body is already wet from your orgasm, so it’s easy to gently slide against him. The veins from his cock seem huge this closeup and you can’t help the shiver that runs through your body when your clit goes over one.

“You’re so big Channie,” you hum, looking back. “Almost as big as me.”

Chris giggles shyly, adjusting in his seat so he slightly slouches against the cushions. You turn back to face his tip and place your little hands on his dick to balance yourself. A whine leaves Chris’s throat when you grind against him higher. Your hands reach out to play with his tip, swirling around the sensitive flesh and having your fingers rub against his slit.

His hips thrust up and you let out a surprised squeal.

“S-shit, sorry,” he moans. “I didn’t mean to.” Chris is being so careful not to have you slip off, but it’s nearly impossible for him to keep still. Not when he can see your entire body jerking him off, your little ass humping his cock so nicely. He especially loves the wet trail that you leave behind with every grind.

You laugh, “It’s okay. Just means you’re feeling good.”

Since you’re just slightly bigger than his length, you decide it would be better to lay completely flat on his cock and slide yourself that way. It’s silly though, humping his dick in a way that reminds you of the nights you spent on your tiny bed touching yourself at the thought of Chris. Now, you’re able to put all that practice to good use.

With your legs wrapped around the base, you find it much easier to slide yourself. To go at a speed that has Chris moaning and fisting his hands into the sofa. Your tongue lolls from your mouth as you moan with him, effectively adding moisture that makes everything wetter.

“Baby! Baby, baby, you’re gonna make me cum just like that.” Chris pants. One of his hands shoots down below his cock, tugging his balls to help get him closer. You tilt your head to look down at the sight, whimpering at how he holds and rubs his sack.

It makes you go faster. You practically squeeze his cock with your limbs almost painfully. Chris only finds pleasure in your hold though. Without thinking, Chris wraps his other hand around his cock and you. Your wings immediately find cover behind your back so they don’t get damaged. The hand around you tightens slightly.

“You want me to use you, hm?” Chris carefully drags you up and down his length. “Be my little cocksleeve, is that it?” You can’t even be a fleshlight to him, but you can be useful. it’s near impossible to nod with how he’s holding you, but you let out a breathy yes. Your arms are locked at your sides from his grip, legs open and limp so he has more access to use you how he wants.

You underestimated how slippery you would get. How his precum would leak onto your hair and face. A part of you thought it would be uncomfortable being pressed up against his cock like this, but all you can feel is how warm he is. It feels good to have him use your body like this, having your clit brush against his girth.

Chris isn’t as careful this time, not that you mind anyway. He grunts with every drag, squeezing your body tighter until you whimper. You feel his cock twitch under you and your cunt clenches in response.

“Fuckin’ shit,” he grunts. “Wrapped around my cock so tight.”

You whimper. There isn’t a chance that you would be able to cum again. Your cunt is roughly pressed against his dick to get any real friction, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling any pleasure. “You’re using me so good, Channie. You gonna cum on me too?”

There isn’t a need for Chris’s confirmation. Not when the hot spurt of his release spews from his cock. You can’t see how far it shoots up, how it lands up to his thighs and leaks onto his hand. The only ounce of cum you get is on the top of your hair, a sticky, warm glob of white.

Chris releases you quickly, letting you get the proper chance to breathe and rest on his pulsing cock.

It doesn’t last long, not when two hands carefully lift you and bring you close to Chris’s face. His neck is a deep shade of red. The blood rushes to his face to give off a pink hue. Even the tips of his ears burn with the same color. As fucked out as he looks, he still has the energy to give you an endearing smile.

Your lips twist shyly, “Why are you looking at me like that? You know I’m completely covered in your cum, right?” But Chris only leans in and uses his nose to nuzzle against your face.

“Mhm. My very own pixie dust.”

#smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #skz bangchan #skz bang chan #bangchan fic #christopher bang #bang chan smut #chris skz #chan smut #skz chan smut #bang chan

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exhaslo · 1 year ago

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Kinktober Day 31- Ghost face!Miguel x Shy!Reader

*Requested by the many fans of tumblr. Happy Halloween!*

Everyone had warned you about moving to Nueva York. The amount of dangerous people in that city were overwhelming. You were going to be eaten alive as your friends and family warned. You thought of yourself better and wanted to prove to them that you could survive. The shy and quiet you, who barely had to courage to say no. It was something you always struggled with, but you hoped that this new job would help you with it.

You were hired at Alchemax as a lab assistant. You tried to fit in, but everyone was so self centered that you ended up being a loner. Everyone except one person. Miguel O'Hara. He had extended the hand of friendship to you, wanting to make you feel more comfortable around the place. You instantly fell for him. He was so kind to you and understanding. You had just wished that everyone was like him. You had wished you had the courage to ask him out.

"(Y/N), are you okay?" Miguel asked as he tried to grab your attention. You flinched out of your daydream,

"Y-Yeah, sorry. I've been...tired lately."

"I've noticed that you've been taking on other people's work. You need to learn to say no," Miguel told you before typing away on his computer. You could only nod,

"I...know...I've also had trouble sleeping...N-News of that...Ghostface going around killing people has me spooked." Miguel glanced you way, handing you a bottle of water, "T-Thanks."

"You'll be okay, tomorrow's Halloween, that's the last day he goes out. Just stay home, okay?" You let out a small whimper, hesitating. "You are staying home, right?" Miguel asked, stopping his work. Tears almost fell from your eyes,

"I-I got...I was told to join some of the others...a-at a small...work...party," Miguel saw you shaking, "I-I...I couldn't say no..."

"Sí, ¿qué voy a hacer contigo? Mi pobre muñeca inocente. (Aye, what am I to do with you? My poor innocent doll.)" Miguel whispered, knowing that you knew nothing of Spanish. He took you hand, calming you down, "Don't worry, you'll be okay."

You looked into Miguel's eyes, smiling softly as you calmed down. After wiping your tears away, you thanked him quietly before hurrying off to go back to work. Miguel watched you scurry off. He growled lowly as he walked to his trash. That invitation was in there somewhere. Your coworkers didn't care about you to invite you to some Halloween party. They had other plans, and now Miguel did too. Finding the paper, Miguel's eyes shined brighter than normal.

"Tendré que matar a todos y hacerme el héroe, sólo para ti, mi preciosa querida. (I'll just have to kill everyone and play the hero, just for you my precious darling)"

-------------

You stood in the corner of the small party, watching all of your coworkers enjoying themselves. You glanced down at your costume, wondering if it was too weird. Everyone else was dressed up in slutty and revealing outfits and here you were, with the costume you thought looked the cutest. You sighed sadly, wondering why you were even here. No one was talking to you. You were just there. Another sigh escaped your lips as you made your way to the upstairs bathroom.

As you washed up, you heard faint screaming. You gasped and shut the light off, your heart beating faster. Loud thumps echoed from the staircase, causing you to whimper. Tears rolled down your cheeks as the loud thumping stopped right in front of the bathroom door. You hurried into the tub, holding yourself as you shook. This was not how you wanted to die. You cried as the door slammed open,

"BOO!"

"KYAAA!" You screamed, covering your ears. You heard loud laughter and raised your head to your coworkers,

"Ah man! Did you get that on video!?" One of them yelled.

You stormed out of the bathroom, sobbing past everyone as they laughed at you. You made your way to the backyard since the front entrance was blocked off. You sat on the steps, crying your eyes out. They only invited you to make fun of you since you were so scared of Ghostface. You were just a quiet coworker, what did you do to deserve this? Upon hearing another scream, you whimpered in response. Were they trying to scare you again?

"I'll just stay here for a bit. They have to unblock the door soon," You whispered.

----------

Miguel had watched the whole thing. His anger had reached a new boiling point. Fixing his mask, Miguel's grip on his knife tighten as he made his way inside. He was the one who blocked the door. Standing in the corner, Miguel watched you ran outside crying. Perfect. He was going to start with the stragglers downstairs. It was a big house and not too many people. The job needed to get new employees anyway. These guys were just dead weight.

Miguel approached each person a little louder than he wanted. He was so fueled with anger that he couldn't focus. He just wanted everyone to pay for what they did. After his first kill, Miguel inhaled deeply. The smell of metallic blood filling his nostrils. He was not going to get now. He had taken out his anger during this month. It was the only time he could. Slowly making his way over to his next victim, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he thought of you.

You were going to be his perfect little wife. Miguel was going to make sure you stay in the dark about his secret. He just wanted to keep you safe. He wanted to keep you protected and loved. When you first arrived at Alchemax, Miguel thought he saw an angel. A shy little angel who entered his life just for him. Miguel had hunted every single asshole who dared tried to flirt with you, or even scared you. Miguel was going to be your dark protector.

"AHHHHHH!"

There it was. The first scream of the night and not from a scare, but because of the dead bodies that laid under Miguel. Smiling through the mask, Miguel watched the girl run to warn the others. Ah yes, that was the start. Miguel inhaled deeply, getting enjoyment from true horror. He was going to enjoy his last few kills of the night. It was going to be another year until Miguel could kill again.

----------

After calming down, you decided to leave. You rubbed your eyes once more before entering the house. It was quiet aside from the sound of thumping from upstairs. They were probably enjoying themselves. Honestly, you were mad at your cruel coworkers. You stopped at the front door, seeing that it was still blocked. Why were they doing this to you? The couch was far too heavy for you to move on your own. Looking for another way out, you gasped as you stepped in something.

"My shoe," You whimpered, looking at the red puddle.

Following the puddle, you gasped sharply as you saw one of you coworkers dead. Your heart started to race again as screams came from upstairs. You hurried to the kitchen, wondering if there was a door there and froze as another dead body laid before you. This was bad. Ghostface was here and he was killing everyone. Tears began to roll down your cheeks again as you hurried to find somewhere to escape. Maybe there was a gate in the backyard?

"Please! Don't kill me!" One of your coworkers screamed as another ran down the stairs,

"(Y/N)?! You're still here?!" He yelled and gasped as Ghostface started to walk down the stairs, "Fuck it, I ain't dying here!"

You yelped as your coworker grabbed you harshly and threw you in front of the staircase. You eyes widen as you nearly froze in fear as Ghostface stood directly before you. You couldn't move. His knife was stained with blood. You shook and closed your eyes, crying as you waited for the worst.

"No! Stay back!"

You shuddered a gasp as you heard Ghostface leave to your coworker first. Quickly, you found a closet and hid in there until it was safe. You were frighten and scared. Covering your ears, you tried to stay quiet as you waited. Waited for Ghostface to leave.

"(Y/N)? Are you here?" That voice. You knew it all too well.

"M-Miguel! R-Run!" You cried out.

----------

Miguel whispered some cusses towards your coworkers as he stabbed him. Now that everyone was dead, it was time for you. He knew that you ran to the living room, but where were you hiding? He stopped to clean his knife in the kitchen sink, washing all the blood off. Once that was done, he attached the knife to his thigh strap under his pants. He then took his mask off, putting it inside one of his cloak pockets that was big enough.

"(Y/N)? Are you here?" He called out, wanting to bring you out of hiding.

"M-Miguel! R-Run!" Those cries weren't meant for you.

"It's okay, I'm here now. I saw Ghostface head upstairs, quickly close your eyes and come out. I'll get you out of here."

You were such a good girl for him. You crawled out of the closet with your eyes closed, your breathing still heavy. Miguel just smiled towards your shaken form, knowing that you were going to be in his arms in a second. With ease, he picked you up, holding you close. He could feel your heart beat. You were sobbing and holding onto him for dear life. You had no reason to cry now. Miguel was going to take care of you.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here," Miguel whispered as he stroked your head. You just cried into his shoulder,

"M-Miguel, I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"You have nothing to apologize for. I'll take good care of you,"

"T-They're all dead. I-I thought...I was next...Miguel...I love you. I love you. I'm sorry, I'm a scaredy cat and shy and nervous...I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner," You kept babbling, crying your heart out since you thought you were going to die.

"Dios mío, no me esperaba esto. Voy a follarte bien esta noche para que te olvides de todo esto. (My god, I wasn't expecting this. I'm going to fuck you go good tonight that you're going to forget all about this.)" He groaned lowly.

"M-Miguel?"

"It's okay, (Y/n), I love you too. I'll take good care of you."

-----------

You sniffled as you stepped out of Miguel's shower, rubbing your arms as you wore some of his spare clothes. Miguel was kind enough to take you to his home, wanting to comfort you for the night. You were nervous as you stepped into his living room. It was quiet. Miguel was taking a shower in his other bathroom. Who would have thought that Miguel was rich? You explored his place, still surprised by the turn of events.

You ended up in the kitchen, noticing a knife in the sink. It looked so much like the knife Ghostface had. Shaking the thought out of your head, you made your way back to the living room. You wanted to forget about what happened tonight. You tried to at least. You knew you were going to have trouble sleeping again. Tomorrow was going to be harsher because everyone was going to be asking about the others. Asking why you were the only one left alive.

"W-What if they think I killed them?" You stuttered at the thought. Miguel approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist,

"Then they would be fools," He kissed the back of your neck.

You shuddered at the affection Miguel gave you. Turning around, you pulled him into a tight hug. Miguel chuckled as he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom. Your cheeks burned up as he placed you on his bed. Miguel stroked your cheek, calming you down again. His smile instantly making you fold for him.

"Do you trust me?" Miguel asked you as he slowly climbed over you. You just nodded, "Good, there's something you need to know,"

You whimpered as Miguel kissed your neck. His hands stroked your sides under the shirt you wore. He let out a low groan since you looked so good in his clothes. You let out a breathless moan as he cupped you breasts. Miguel was going to wait until you were completely in his grasp before telling you. After all, you couldn't say no. You were going to be his good girl forever.

"M-Miguel?" You whined softly as he took your shirt off, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples.

"You're not going back to work," Miguel whispered as he started to grind his bulge against your cunt, "You're going to stay here. Make it look like you died with the others."

"W-What?!" You asked, but flung your head back as Miguel sucked on your breasts.

You moaned softly as Miguel spread you legs, allowing him to rut into you rougher. You felt yourself getting wetter. The boxers he let you wear were too thin and easy for him to grind against. You tried to ask him what he meant, but you were being overwhelmed with pleasure. Miguel's hands were now resting against the boxers, rubbing your clit against the fabric. You body leaned into his touch, desperate for more. His tongue swirled around your nipple, making his way back up to your neck.

"You're going to stay here, baby." He whispered again, his fingers dipping under the boxers and circling your clit, "My beautiful angel. I can't let anyone have you. I can't let anyone harm you. You were always mine."

"Mhm~ M-Miguel~"

"(Y/N), don't be afraid of me. I will never harm you." Miguel watched as you bit you lower lip, moving your hips with his hand, "Así es. Déjame convertirte en la esposa perfecta. Déjame manchar tu hermosa inocencia. (That's right. Let me fuck you into the perfect wife. Let me taint your beautiful innocence." He groaned lowly.

You whimpered a moan as you felt a knot tighten inside you. Miguel moved his fingers faster against your clit, causing that knot to tighten. You tried to rub your legs together, but Miguel kept them spread. He sucked against your neck, groaning as you cam from just him playing with your clit. His fingers dipped lower, two digits entering your tight, soaked cunt. You moaned again, your cunt squeezing his fingers as he pumped inside you.

"Ah, my sweet innocent little angel. Watching you break because of me is so delicious." Miguel groaned as you squirmed and moved your hips to his touch, "You're going to stay here. I'll make sure no one will ever hurt you again, understood?"

"Y-Yes! Yes!" You cried out as his fingers feverishly fucked your tight gummy walls.

You whined as Miguel raised your legs over his shoulders. Your pussy clenched his fingers as he started to curl against your sweet spot. You flung your head back as he started to wiggle his fingers inside you. His thumb rubbed against your clit again, bringing you over to the edge. Miguel wasn't making any sense, but his words were making you wetter. Honestly, with how tonight went, you wouldn't mind being stuck in Miguel's home forever. He was your protector.

"M-MIG-" You screamed out as you reached another orgasm. Miguel pulled his fingers out, licking them,

"You even taste sweet," He hummed, holding his erection towards your twitching folds, "You have no idea the amount of men I had to get rid of to make sure you stayed innocent, just for me. Seré tu primero en todo... y tu último. (I will be your first for everything...and your last.)" He groaned.

You whimpered as you felt Miguel's dick stretch you out painfully. His cock was so thick and long. Your pussy was convulsing around him, sucking him in while drool rolled down your lips. He was making you feel so full. You wanted to question him on what he meant by getting rid of people, but you started to get drunk off his cock. Another whimper escaped your lips as Miguel groaned, fitting his whole length inside you. You swore that he was pressing against your cervix, but you weren't sure. This was a first for you.

"Un ajuste perfecto. Fuiste hecho para mí, cariño. Voy a grabar la forma de mi polla en tu memoria. (A perfect fit. You were made for me, darling. I'm going to fuck the shape of my dick into your memory.)" He groaned, slowly pulling out of you, "Killing all those people made this worth it."

"H-Huh?"

You moaned loudly as Miguel thrusted his dick back inside you, hitting your cervix with each thrust. You cried out as Miguel started to bully your cunt, causing you to turn into putty under him. You could barely feel your legs as the slapping sounds between you grew louder. His dick forming a perfect space inside your pussy. You trembled as you started to reach another orgasm, unable to take the pleasure that he was filling you with.

"Look at you, so fucked out on my cock. How does it feel to get fucked by Ghostface, baby? Does my dick feel that good?" Miguel moaned as you tighten around him, "Yes, it does, doesn't it. Why else would you be squeezing me this tight?"

"H-Hah~ Ah~ Y-You're....ah~ mhpm...G-Ghost...f-face?" You whimpered lowly. Miguel fasten his pace, enjoying the white ring that formed around his dick,

"Yes. I'm the scary Ghostface that killed those asshole coworkers of ours," He chuckled, stopping to fill you with his seed, "I told you that you'd be okay. I will never, ever hurt you. Only love you."

You wanted to be scared. You truly did, but both your brain and your heart were only thinking about Miguel's dick pounding you still. His hot semen filling your womb as he kept fucking you dumb. You body twitched from overstimulation as Miguel started to rub your clit again. He leaned down to kiss you, biting you lower lip as you moaned for him. His grip tighten against your hips, rutting into you furiously. He wanted to make sure you knew that you were his.

"Awe? Tired already? I think I need to show you how many people I've killed for you. Here's the second victim." Miguel groaned as he cummed inside you again.

"Mhm~" You muffled lowly, growing exhausted. Miguel chuckled as he pulled you to his lap,

"Tienes razón cariño. Vas a ser la esposa de Ghostface. Siempre puedo mostrarte mi amor en cualquier momento. (You're right darling. You're going to be Ghostface's wife. I can always show you my love anytime.)

----------

When you woke up, Miguel was by your side with water, vitamins and breakfast. He had bathed you and put on a fresh pair of clothes. You recalled his confession from last night and grew slightly nervous. Miguel, the man you longed for, was the murderous Ghostface. He killed your coworkers and faked your death. You now belonged to Miguel. You wanted to be scared, but Miguel had proved to you that he was never going to hurt you.

Maybe it was your blind faith or actually being fucked dumb, but you willingly agreed to stay with Miguel. You stayed in his place as his house wife, greeting him with love everyday. Miguel rewarded your love with his brutal sex, reminding you that you belonged to him. By next Halloween, Miguel returned to his Ghostface persona, needing to release some steam. You became his accomplish, making sure that he returned home safe and sound.

"How was my good girl tonight?" Miguel hummed as he slapped his dick into your soaked pussy. You whined into the bedsheets,

"D-Distracted t-the...ah~ police...s-sending em...mhm~ opposite side of...of....ah~ t-town~!" You cried out. Miguel groaned happily, harshly shoving his dick deeper into you to fill,

"That's my perfect angel. Well done."

"T-Thank you!" You moaned against him, shaking from the pleasure. Miguel hummed happily as he kept thrusting inside you,

"I think you deserve a reward. Why don't we try making a little Ghostface jr?"

"Yes! Yes!"

Your vision blurred as you moved in rhythm to Miguel's thrusts. Your mind started to fill with lust as you became tainted by Miguel. You were just as bad as him now, but you didn't care anymore. As long as Miguel was there to love you and protect you, you were okay. You moaned loudly as you cam against his dick, burying your head into the pillow again. You were happy with you life now. You were going to protect and live with Miguel forever.

Forever as Ghostface's wife.

#kinktober #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel

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goldfades · 6 months ago

Text

★ BREAK THE BED (LITERALLY) ─── CC²²

❪ requested -> "Can I pleaseeee get a fic where cc actually breaks the bed?? I just know her strap game in rough after a loss" ❫

─ warnings | nsfw under the cut, read at ur own discretion. kinda angsty but not rly???? just very angry cait (for the most part), mention of the media being mean, STRAP!!!!!!!!!!!! degradation with a sprinkle of praise, the bed actually breaking lol (who woulda thought?), it ends in a funny way and aftercare with so much cuteness u might die!!!!

─ ev's notes | kinda word vomit but this concept makes me go feral!!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

the entire night, caitlin had gotten absolutely dogged on. the game had been brutal, not just physically but emotionally. she could still feel the sting of missed shots, the weight of turnovers, and the disappointment of her teammates' glares. the fans' cheers had turned to jeers, and she couldn't shake off the feeling of letting everyone down.

off the court, the media scrutiny was relentless. headlines dissected her every move, analyzing her performance with a critical eye. she was sick of it, and with each passing moment, her anger only seemed to grow stronger. she wanted to scream, to lash out at something, anything, that could bear the weight of her frustration.

"oh, fuck!" you moaned as you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, gripping the sheets beneath you. caitlin had you bent over her bed as she fucked into you relentlessly, one of her hands gripping your hip as the other pushed your head into the mattress. "please,"

her thrusts were fast and unforgiving, she was absolutely wrecking you. you'd both been at it for what felt like hours but in reality, your legs felt like they were about to give out at any moment but neither of you cared ─ it felt so good.

"fuck, yeah. take it, fucking take it," caitlin's groans came out breathless as her head fell back, as if she could really feel you through the thick piece of plastic. "good fucking girl, yeah,"

you nodded your head against the mattress at her praise, feeling the coil in your stomach begin to tighten. you loved it when cait treated you like this ─ she was usually caring but right now it felt like she couldn't care less about how you felt.

and you can admit to almost anyone that having a hot and tall hooper girlfriend has many perks ─ including getting absolutely fucking wrecked by her strap after terrible games.

"please, fuck," you choked out as you felt yourself begin to shake underneath her, your face contorting into one of pure bliss.

"fucking slut," the words came out smoothly as you moaned in response. she wasn't ever much of a degrader but god, did it feel good.

caitlin gripped your hair even harder as she pulled you up so that she press kisses against your jaw as she continued to fuck into you. "you like that? fuck, baby, you like getting called a slut? yeah?"

"yeah," you sobbed out as caitlin pressed her lips against yours in a sloppy kiss.

caitlin pushed your head back against the mattress and somehow, her thrusts got even rougher and faster. "oh fuck yeah, take it like a slut. i know you like that shit, stop whining,"

that was all it took for you to cum around her strap, your cries of pleasure echoing throughout her apartment. she didn't stop, she kept fucking you until you rode out your high.

caitlin kept pressing sloppy kisses on your shoulders and neck as you caught your breath, she wrapped her arms around your naked back and pulled you closer. you could feel her smile on your neck as you both stayed like that for a few moments, relishing in each other.

and that was all she needed to feel okay again. suddenly all the media and all the bullshit didn't matter anymore, because at least you were with her. and at the end of the day, she has a sexy ass girlfriend who can take her rough strap game after a tough loss (and who supports and cherishes her).

she pulled out of you slowly, wary of your very sensitive pussy. you winced as her expression turned thoughtful, "you okay, honey?"

"yeah," you whispered out as caitlin's hands gripped your hips and slowly pushed you on the bed. you turned around to meet her face and she pushed your hair out of your face, taking in your beautiful face.

she put one leg on the bed and began to move toward you, only for the mattress to completely complete collapse underneath. caitlin's eyes widened in surprise as the mattress collapsed beneath her, sending both of you tumbling to the floor with a thud. you let out a startled gasp, the sudden movement catching you off guard.

for a moment, there was silence, save for the sound of your breathing and the creaking of the broken bed frame. then, a burst of laughter bubbled up from deep within you, and soon caitlin joined in, her laughter filling the room.

"holy shit, dude," you laughed as caitlin caught her breath.

caitlin kept giggling as she shook her head in amusement. "my strap game that good?"

"i can't believe we actually like... we broke the bed," you both dissolved into fits of laughter again, the absurdity of the situation sinking in.

caitlin smirked, a playful glint in her eyes. "i guess that's what happens when you bring your a-game," she quipped, earning another round of laughter from both of you. "my ego really, really needed that, whew."

your expression softened as your girlfriend looked back at you, before continuing. "no seriously, even if we keep this losing streak up, at least i have you to make me feel better."

"really? that was all it took, one good fuck and you're all better?" you smirked as caitlin nodded, in all seriousness.

"oh, yes. absolutely. half of those dudes can't get their girls to orgasm with their real dicks. i did it with a damn strap and i got you screaming your head off, oh and i broke the bed," caitlin explained as you began laughing again. "i'm never gonna be able to take 'em seriously now, cause like... sure i keep getting dogged on but i'm still adjusting and!"

she pulled you closer into her chest, "i have a sexy girlfriend,"

"that's the spirit, baby," you laughed again as you squeezed your tall girlfriend.

caitlin chuckled, her arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. "damn right," she said, her voice filled with pride. "and don't you forget it."

"never doubted it for a second," you replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "you're the sexiest, most badass girlfriend a girl could ask for."

"i love you, sweetheart," she mumbled against your head as she leaned toward you again before she felt the bed give way beneath you both once more. this time, however, instead of laughter, there was a collective groan as you hit the floor with a thud.

"love you too, but how are we gonna sleep tonight?" you groaned as caitlin sighed.

"i'm calling a hotel, hold on," caitlin sighed as she got up from the broken bed and walked out of the room.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark smut #caitlin clark headcannons #iowa wbb #wnba draft #iowa hawkeyes #iowa women’s basketball #iowa wcbb #wcbb x reader #ncaaw #ncaa wbb #indiana fever #wnba basketball #wnba #wbb

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killmeprettypleasee · 8 months ago

Note

Could I ask a smut like where m!reader is a high ranking than ghost and soap and in a relationship with the two when m!reader got a dare from gaz to be fake dead and which m!reader acts which quickly got info to ghost and soap which they think m!reader is dead. They are Hella sad which they see m!reader alright. They ask and m!reader says the truth.. which the two gave m!reader a "punishment"

✁__________________________________

Warning: threesome, double penetration ment, slight ment of breeding kink, punishment kink.

You've been dared by your friend Gaz for 20 bucks to prank both Ghost and Soap, you hesitate at first but the thought of seeing Both men all having a panic attack seeing you laying dead is hilarious, and weeelll.. 20 bucks is 20 bucks..

----------------

You laid on your bed, acting dead.

Good thing you were a great actor,, While you were laying there the door open slowly, a head peeping out to check on you.

"Heyyy, (Y/n)?"

Soap spoke out, walking in followed soon by Ghost.

They saw your limp form and scanned your body, they thought you were asleep and decided to shake you till you're awake,, but you didn't peeked an eye, so they shaked you harder.. but still.. no reaction.

And both turned nervous at you not waking up, tgeir nervousness soon turned to worry then fright.

They shaked you harder, testing your body temperature then pulses, It was all okay but why aren't you waking up???

They tried tickling you and went extreme by throwing you off the bed! But still.. no reaction.

Then, one last thing, Soap tried to check on your heat then..

"BOO!"

You screamed out causing Soap to jerk backwards in surprise and slight fear, You were sat up, staring at them with a cheeky grin on your face, moments ago you were laying "passed" out there and here you were, all well and okay...

"Hah! Did i scare you guys, because the look on your faces say otherwise!"

You were giggling gleefully while they just stared in confusion and slight anger for scaring them.. Ghost huffed out, Nose flaring out of anger.

They needed to teach you a lesson from scaring them like this.. and both agreed on this,, they look at each other before nodding.

Suddenly, You we're pinned down roughly by Soap on your wrist while Ghost ripped your pants, along your boxers.

Leaving you exposed to the cold wind in the room.

You protest out, yelling to them to stop to what they're doing but sadly, your words fell on deaf ears..

The Flipped you over causing you to be pressed against your chest to the ground, your ass was spread apart by Soap, your tight ring of flesh showing.

"Fuck.. look at that.."

Ghost breath out, taking in the sight of your little hole.

Then they began to stretch you on their fingers to make sure you take both of their cocks in you and aswell as making sureyou get bred well.

After that you were sat on Ghost's cock while soap's cock is Infront amd between your legs.

Then First Soap Thrusted in your slicked hole, and soon followed by Ghost, The stretch was big.. but you already got used to it after doing this with them.

Each thrust was powerful, making it sure you get to be discipline of respect..

Every time they piston into your ass sent you jolting forward the force causing you to cry and sob, letting out little cries for mercy.

You had came many times by now, your mind already dizzy from the harsh treatment caused by both Ghost and Soap, You laid limp in between their bodies while they try to get some air.

"You learned your lesson now?"

Ghost asked with a smug smirk on his face, and you nodded quickly in reply.

"good boy"

Soap gave you a pat on the head before he pulled out along side Ghost, cum dripped down your now loose hole making you cringe from the feeling.

Despite the harsh punishment that you probably couldn't walk anymore- 20 bucks is still 20 bucks though, right?

✁__________________________________

A/n: this was lazy so sorry if its bad, didn't add the reader being high ranked cus i got to lazy.

#x male reader #bottom male reader #cod x male reader #x sub male reader #x reader #cod x male reader smut #cod x reader #cod #cod mw2 #ghost cod x male reader #soap cod x male reader #call of duty x male reader

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dandylovesturtles · 6 months ago

Text

I lied

this fic is going to have at least four parts. oops.

Sorry this took longer than I intended! I started working on it literally the next day after the first part went up and banged out 3K words, then wrote another 1.5K over the next couple days, ended up hating it, deleted the whole thing and started over. I'm much happier with this version.

I had intended for this part to go deeper into the immediate aftermath buuuut this part ended up so long I decided to make that the next part!

And I got enabled on discord to be mean with the cliffhanger, so... sorry <3

CW: minor violence, angst, nobody having a good time, Bishop being Bishop

btw this is Part 2 of the Room Fic that doesn't have a title yet. If you're confused, start here!

-----

They're somewhere in Nebraska, and Raph's never seen so many stars before.

He thought he had seen stars, when they went camping in the woods that time with Todd. Now, sitting on the side of the road by the Turtle Tank, he's realizing that he didn't really see them.

He wishes he could enjoy it, but he can't. Not really. Because nine days ago, Leo stormed out of the lair and never came home.

(Raph knows the thing he'll always blame himself for is picking the fight in the first place.)

It took them several days to learn what had happened to him. Even more days to learn where he was taken. And now they're stuck on the side of the road in Nebraska while Donnie fixes a flat.

Mikey's dozing against his shoulder. He hasn't been getting enough sleep, not that any of them have. April's handing Donnie tools and keeping him company while he changes the tire. Draxum and Splinter are inside the tank, on the lookout for cops with the help of Donnie's police scanners.

It's cool since the sun went down. Quiet. Crickets are out and playing their songs. Raph's seen a few deer, and an owl. The stars are twinkling overhead, and it's calm, peaceful.

The weight on his shoulder is suddenly gone; Raph looks down to find Mikey sitting up straight, wide awake and head cocked to the side like a bloodhound who just caught a scent.

He opens his mouth to ask - and then he feels it too.

It's a cacophony of emotions, strong and hot and mixing together until they're overwhelming. Fear, pain, exhaustion, loneliness, and a blinding fury like even Raph has never felt before. Hatred and bile and the desire to attack, to harm, to destroy.

And underneath it all, a presence as familiar to him as his own, one that's been by his side since almost the day he was hatched. One that is fragile and desperate and screaming out for help.

Leo.

Raph stands up - next to him, Mikey is already on his feet. Raph reaches out his hand, his ninpo flaring to life, straining out into the open air like if he just stretches far enough, he can pluck Leo out of the hell he's trapped in and bring him home.

But he can't reach far enough, because the EPF took him all the way to Colorado. And they're still on the side of the road in Nebraska.

As quickly as it came, the presence is dying away again. It shrinks smaller and smaller and then fizzles out. Raph releases his breath, letting his ninpo fall away, his fingers still grasping open air.

A sniffle. Raph looks down and finds Mikey sobbing. He scoops his little brother into his arms, and Mikey throws himself into Raph's chest, heaving breaths shaking his tiny frame.

"Leo," he whimpers. All Raph can do is pat his shell.

He turns to take stock of Donnie next, carrying Mikey over. His other little brother has tears trickling down his face, too, more subdued but still visible. He's holding his wrench in a vice grip, and for once he doesn't utter a single protest when Raph reaches out and tucks him in under his free arm.

"...What just happened?" asks April, hesitant. Raph wishes he knew how to explain.

"It was Leo!" Mikey does it for him. "He... he's reaching for us."

"What!? Like, mind meld or something!?"

"No," answers Raph. "I don't really know what that was... but it was definitely Leo."

"So..." April pauses, eyes searching each of their faces. "Is he... okay?"

None of them know what to say, but she gets it anyway.

"...I'm going to destroy the EPF," says Donnie, voice dark and cold. "I'm going to raze it to the ground. There will be nothing left."

Raph squeezes his shoulders, pulling him closer.

He doesn't know what to do other than agree.

-----

"This is a good thing," says Draxum. "That means he's still alive."

"But they're hurting him!" Mikey argues. He's halfway in Draxum's lap, arms wrapped around Draxum's middle. Donnie sits on one of the bench seats, curled tight around his own legs, while Splinter strokes his head. Raph sits on the bench seat across from them, April leaning against his side.

"I told you what the EPF is capable of," Draxum reminds them. "This is not a surprise."

"Read the room, Barry," says April.

Splinter's look is increasingly far away, his touch on Donnie's head automatic and absentminded. He's able to stay in the room with them when there's something to do, but now the fear and depression are threatening to take him away again. For the hundredth time since this nightmare began, Raph feels the hopelessness set in.

Draxum sucks, but he's right, echoes the voice in his head that sounds too much like Leo. The plan hasn't changed. Now get moving before you tire out.

"Drax is right that Leo's alive," Raph echoes. "So we need to get a move on. Donnie, how's the tank?"

Donnie uncurls, coaxed by the request to talk about his baby. "The spare's on, and I did some checks on the engine and interior systems. We're ready to go."

"Alright." Raph stands up, rolling his shoulders. "It's Raph's turn to drive. Everyone buckle up."

The mood in the tank shifts after that; they have a direction, and a plan. Leo is hurt, but he's still alive, and nothing has changed.

Donnie and April sit together in the front seats. Mikey passes around snacks and drinks from their cooler, then snuggles in between their dad and Draxum. Draxum says something negative about the snack food, which pulls Splinter out of his trance and starts up some heated bickering between them. Even more of the tension leaks out of the cab.

Raph puts the tank in drive and pulls back onto the quiet highway, driving west again. At their back, the sun starts to rise.

-----

It's late in the day when they reach Colorado Springs.

Donnie was able to pin the EPF base's location down to the mountains surrounding the town, but he couldn't find its exact location. Whatever equipment they have, it's completely scrambled the subcutaneous tracker Donnie put on Leo (and boy, was that a stir when Donnie revealed he'd put trackers on all of them). It had taken a combination of Donnie's hacking and April's investigative skills to get this far.

"It makes sense," says April as they pull the tank into a campsite outside the city limits. "There's, what, three bases here? Where better to hide a secret branch of the military than with the military?"

There's snow on the ground outside, even though it's early May. Even so, the temperature was pretty mild while the sun was up. "It's the proximity to the mountains," Donnie explains when Raph mentions it, but the rest of the explanation blurs together. He's too tired to keep up with Donnie's science facts, but infodumping calms his brother down, so he lets him do it and nods along.

They eat a proper meal that Mikey cooks for them on one of the campsite grills, then settle in to nap until the sun goes down. Raph isn't sleeping, and he can tell from all the shifting around that Mikey and Donnie aren't, either. They're too close to Leo now to rest.

But you gotta catch some Zs before you go storming into enemy territory, the Leo in his head reminds him.

Raph hates every second you're in there, he thinks. But it won't be long now. Big bro's comin'.

He wishes the Leo in his head would say that he believes that. But all Raph can remember are the words they said during the fight, and he never quite goes to sleep.

-----

They break into pairs for their search. Raph goes with April, Mikey with Splinter, and Donnie stays with Draxum at the tank. Donnie uses his tech to try and narrow down the location of the base, while the other two teams go in opposite directions and start scouting the area on foot.

It takes a long time for them to learn anything, and as the sun comes up again, Raph starts to worry that they're going to have to leave Leo trapped for another full day.

But then he and April finally get a lead. They send the info to Donnie, and it helps narrow down his search.

Just after dawn, they reconvene at the tank, gathered around satellite images and drone shots of a nondescript military compound several miles outside the city.

"There it is," says Donnie with finality. "That's where they're keeping Leo."

"Then what are waiting for?" asks Mikey.

Wait for dark, says the Leo in Raph's head.

And that advice makes sense. There will be fewer employees at night. The dark provides natural cover. It's sane. It's smart.

Raph ignores it entirely.

He's not leaving his little brother with those people for one second longer. Not after what he felt, sitting on the side of the road in Nebraska.

"We're not waiting for anything," he says. "Let's move out."

From the looks on their faces, they all agree.

------

The site looks as generic as possible. There's a high electric fence circling the whole thing, with a basic "No Trespassing - Government Property" sign. A simple guard stand sits at the drive-in gate. The buildings visible beyond are drab and featureless.

The government stopped publicly funding the EPF in the nineties, Draxum had told them. But the organization had never truly gone away; it was just funded through underground means now. Miscellaneous defense funding. Anonymous donations. Private benefactors.

Originally it had been founded to defend Earth against aliens. But when no alien threat appeared, they moved on to a new mission: defending the United States against yokai.

"Even though we were here first," Draxum had said testily. "Typical Americans."

Raph hadn't liked anything Draxum had to tell them about the EPF. That they weren't bound by any of the laws the rest of the military was. That the yokai they had managed to capture were never seen again. That Draxum had had a very brief run-in with them once, decades ago, and he doubted they had ever forgotten it.

Really, though, all he'd needed to know was that they had his brother.

It's the middle of the morning, so their stealth options are limited. Still, they aren't ninja for nothing; they use the forest and the snowy terrain to their advantage and sneak their way into the compound. Raph has to admit, he was a little worried about Draxum on the trip over, but the old goat does a pretty good job keeping up.

It takes them a bit of time to work out which building to enter. They rule out a mess hall, a medical ward, the barracks, and some kind of training center first. Then, toward the furthest reaches of the compound, they find a building that looks particularly suspicious, with a guard gate on the path leading to it and more armed guards on the roof.

"That has to be it," says Raph. No one disagrees.

They use a passing supply truck to slip past the guard gate, then sneak around the back and use a fire ladder to get to the roof. They dispatch the guards on top quickly and easily, then find a ventilation shaft leading inside. Mikey, Donnie, April, and Splinter fit easily enough, but Raph and Draxum are too big to wiggle through.

"Find out where we're going. Radio us as soon as you find something," Raph says. Then he gives Mikey, April, and Donnie's shoulders each a squeeze in turn. "And be careful."

"Take care of Red," their dad says to Draxum just before he follows the others inside.

"He's safe with me," Draxum promises.

"You're safe with Raph," Raph feels the need to say. Splinter chuckles before disappearing into the shaft after his siblings.

Waiting outside becomes nerve-wracking quickly. Raph starts to pace the length of the roof, back and forth, glancing at the unconscious guards from time to time to make sure they're still unconscious.

"You're going to wear a rut on the roof," Draxum admonishes him. Raph keeps going anyway.

-----

Finally, after what feels like ages but is only about ten minutes, his radio crackles. Raph freezes, pulling his wrist close, where Donnie's tech is hidden under his wraps.

"Hey." It's April's voice. She sounds out of breath, but not distressed. "Come to the back of the building. Should be a door."

"On our way," says Raph, waving at Draxum to follow before dropping off the roof.

The door is easy enough to find, the snow around it trampled down. He gives the metal a rap with his knuckles when he gets there, and the door swings open, April grinning, her bat perched against her shoulder. Behind her is another unconscious guard.

"Nice, April," says Raph, hustling inside. He kicks the last of the snow off his feet once he's on the cold linoleum floor, Draxum following suit. April lets the door swing shut again. "Where's everyone else?"

"We found some kinda security room. Leo's gear was in there." She pushes by and starts to lead them down the hall, voice low, eyes watching for anyone rounding the corner. "Donnie's poking through the camera footage. Didn't look like anyone much was in this hall, so I came to get you."

"And Leonardo?" asks Draxum.

April gives a shake of her head. "Haven't found him yet, but he's gotta be here. There's not much more of the building to search, so we're close."

Raph peeks in open doors and through windows as they walk, taking in the space. It looks like an ordinary office building inside; nothing nefarious, except for the fact that the people working here are kidnapping scum who have done something so terrible to his little brother it made him scream out in anguish and fury. But if he hadn't known that coming in, he wouldn't have expected anything. It all looks very...

Raph comes to a sudden stop. Through the sliver of window in a door, he sees the first occupied room since he's entered the building. Only one person is inside, wearing a white lab coat and tapping away at a computer.

But what's more interesting is the door on the other side of the room: solid metal with no window, and a sign that reads "Inmate Observation - Authorized Access Only".

Raph grabs April by the shoulder before she can get too far ahead, pointing at the window. "Do you know what's in there?"

She turns back and takes a peek. "...No. I don't think we went through there yet."

So they haven't ruled this part of the building out yet. And it's the only one so far with anyone inside.

Inmate Observation.

"Raph, wait, I think we should-" April starts, but Raph doesn't listen. Raph can't stop himself.

His little brother is in here. He knows he is. The one who was taken from them. The one who cried out to them in fear, begging to be saved.

He's not making Leo wait a moment longer.

Raph throws open the door and marches inside.

"...Okay," April says behind him. "I guess we're doing it this way.

-----

The scientist or whoever they are tries to radio for help. Raph picks the radio up and crushes it in his hand. They turn and run, and that takes care of that.

April calls the others on her radio. Raph doesn't listen to the conversation. His eyes are locked on the door.

Inmate Observation.

He reaches out and throws the door back with a bang.

He's ready for the gunshots before they come, and his ninpo is already active, forming a protective bubble around himself and shielding Draxum and April. He's expecting bullets, but instead it's darts; they embed themselves harmlessly in the arms of his projection. Raph waits until the volley stops, then drops the projection, and the darts fall harmlessly to the floor.

He steps into the room and clocks one of the guards on the head before they can reload, watching as they fall to the ground. April wallops the other one, then kicks their fallen gun under a desk. She brandishes her bat at the other occupants of the room: two more scientists in lab coats, and one steely faced man in a suit.

The scientists seem intimidated. The suited man does not.

"Ah," he says. "So you've finally made it here, Draxum."

"Bishop." Draxum sounds equally unimpressed. "I thought you died in the nineties."

"So does most of the world. It's convenient for my work."

"You guys know each other?" April asks, looking between them.

"We know of each other." Draxum sneers. "If my plans had gone as I intended, he would truly be dead by now."

Raph narrows his eyes at the man. "Are you the one who's been keeping my brother here?"

To his credit, Bishop still looks unphased, even though Raph is tall enough to hulk over him. "I am the director of this facility."

It's enough of a yes.

Raph rushes Bishop, slamming him into the wall behind his back. Raph keeps him pinned, one hand on his neck, the other arm pressed against his chest, and Raph presses until he feels something start to crack.

Bishop hisses but does not cry out.

"Where are you keeping him?" Raph demands.

"He's in there," says Bishop, wheezing only slightly from the constriction on his lungs, his voice firm otherwise.

Raph tosses a look where Bishop indicates, seeing a large window. It's looking into a seemingly empty room; white walls and no furniture other than a toilet in the corner.

"Raph don't see him," he growls.

"He hides under the window." Bishop's eyes flicker to one of the scientists. "Pointless, really," he says, giving the man in the lab coat a nod. "Show them."

The scientist looks uneasy, but he turns and clicks a few buttons on a desktop. A screen pops up, but it doesn't show anything other than static.

"...Something is wrong with our camera signals, sir," the scientist reports.

"Ah." Bishop's eyes glint, and then flick back to Raph's face. "So there are more of you."

Raph doesn't answer that. He gives Bishop a rough shake. "What have you done to him?"

"Your brother?" Bishop clarifies. "Nothing."

Another shake. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying." Bishop's eyes are steely, even as his wheezing picks up the more Raph leans into his chest. "Other than as was necessary to move him, we have not touched him."

Raph doesn't move an inch. "I don't believe that."

"Then see for yourself." Bishop looks at the other scientist now, giving a small nod of his head. "Dr. Keller, open the door for this brute so he'll stop assaulting me."

Raph scowls, staying exactly where he is while the other scientist scurries to the metal door by the window and inputs a code into a keypad. There's a beep, and a clipped, artificial voice says, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."

Finally, Raph lets Bishop go, and approaches the door.

-----

When Raph imagined one of them getting kidnapped by a shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, he always pictured something... different.

He thought they would be in cages, not tall enough to stand in. That they would be fed from dog bowls or water drippers. That handlers would patrol the room with cattle prods, ready to shock anyone who stepped out of line.

But there is no cage, and no cattle prods. Leo is just in a room.

The first thing Raph notices about the room is the cold. The rest of the building is hardly stifling, but even then, the blast of air that comes through the open door feels like Raph is stepping into a freezer.

As he saw from outside, there's no furniture. Or he doesn't think there is, until he looks down, under the window, and finds a cot.

And what's on the cot makes his heart stop.

Raph can barely remember the last time he saw Leo pull himself fully into his shell for anything other than shell bowling. He complained that it was too small, that the hot and cramped space made him feel claustrophobic.

Now he's completely pulled inside, still and silent in a way Leo should never be.

For an eternity, Raph thinks he's too late. They came all the way here only to save Leo's corpse.

"Leo...?"

He kneels by the cot, reaching out and putting a hand on Leo's shell. He's cold to the touch, and it unsettles Raph even further. He shouldn't be this cold.

Raph keeps his hand where it is and stays very still and very quiet. And he waits.

And then he hears it, so faint he almost misses it: a terrified, whimpering chirp.

Leo is alive.

Raph feels tears spring to his eyes. He puts his other hand on Leo's shell, rubbing in big, soothing motions.

"Leo! Leo, it's me! We're here, we're getting you out! It's all going to be okay, just trust Big Raphie, alright?"

So saying, Raph straightens back up, and grabs Leo's shell in his hands to carry him out, to take his little brother home.

A hand shoots out of the shell, stick thin. Though it's clearly weak, it grabs on to Raph's arm with a desperate ferocity, clawing at the skin there.

Raph freezes, not putting Leo down but not lifting him any further, either. He peers into the gap in Leo's shell, and sees eyes peering back at him, glassy and wide and full of terror. A cornered animal fighting for his life.

Raph takes a deep breath. He summons all the love he has for Leo, all the relief he feels at finding him alive, all the happiness he has from having his little brother in his arms again, and he pours it into a genuine smile, no matter the danger outside.

"Hey, Leo," he says, voice soft. "It's just me. Raph came to get ya. Everything's okay now."

A second passes, then five, then twenty. April starts to come in, but Raph waves a finger at her to tell her to go back before she startles Leo. He keeps the smile on his face, his eyes locked on Leo's, his hold secure but non-threatening.

And then, slowly, Leo pokes his head out.

"Raph?" he asks, in a voice that is exhausted and hoarse and warbling and absolutely beautiful.

"Yeah," says Raph, blinking tears back. "Hey, buddy."

Steadily, Leo unfurls the rest of himself, one limb emerging at a time. He looks terrible. His cheeks are sunken and gaunt, his skin is an unhealthy color, his eyes are ringed by dark black circles showing off how little he's slept.

Raph is so happy to see him. He so wishes this wasn't the state he was finding Leo in. If he could turn back time and make it so Leo never suffered, he would in a heartbeat. But he's so happy to have Leo back that the tears keep flowing.

The grip Leo has on his arm shifts. No longer trying to claw himself free, but grabbing on, holding still, with all the same desperation as before. His eyes search Raph's face, over and over until it seems he's finally satisfied.

"Raph," he repeats, and it's not a question this time.

"Yeah," Raph says anyway. "I'm here."

He lifts Leo the rest of the way, cradling Leo against his chest. Leo's so much lighter than he should be, and Raph feels a sharp pain in his heart over it.

It's okay. They'll leave. They'll take care of him. And then Leo will be all better again.

Leo shifts himself, reaching one arm up and hooking it around Raph's neck. Just that much movement seems to sap a lot of energy, and he slumps his head against Raph, giving up on holding it upright. It reminds Raph of when they were little and he would carry Leo to bed, before Leo started insisting he's too old for that.

"Am I dreaming?" Leo whispers.

Raph's heart breaks, but he doesn't lose his smile. "Nope. You're wide awake."

"Then..." Leo nuzzles closer. "Can we go home?"

"Yeah." Raph sniffles, shifting his grip so he can get a hand free without disturbing Leo. "We can go home."

Leo doesn't say anything more, just hums quietly against Raph's neck. Raph wipes his tears away, then turns and carries Leo out of the room.

-----

Bishop is still against the wall; it's Draxum's vines holding him there now.

When Leo sees him, he shrinks into himself, crossing the arm not hooked around Raph over his chest. Raph turns his body so Leo is shielded from view, glaring hard at Bishop as he does.

"Didn't do anything to him, huh?" he asks, voice icy.

"He is unharmed," says Bishop, equally cold. Raph wants to kill him.

"That's enough out of you," says Draxum, and a new vine wraps around Bishop's mouth. That shuts him up.

April's eyes are wide, her hand over her mouth as she looks at Leo, but she quickly pulls herself together, her expression turning to one of hard steel. She comes closer, only softening when Leo's eyes lock on her.

"Hey, Leo," she says, reaching up and giving his arm a pat. "How're you feelin'?"

"Happy to see you," Leo rasps, and it's so sincere that Raph feels tears spring to his eyes again. April has to blink hard behind her glasses.

"We're really happy to see you, too."

"Yes, everyone is happy now," says Draxum, though his eyes are worried as they look Leo over. "But we still need to get out of here."

"Right." April opens the door back into the offices, letting Raph through, before she pulls up her wrist to talk into her Donnie tech. "Guys, you there?"

"We're here, April," comes Donnie's voice. "We've extracted the information and we're on our way to meet you."

"Great." She smiles up at Raph. "We got Leo."

"Leo!" Mikey's voice comes booming through the radio, loud enough that April cringes and leans back. Raph can hear Donnie make a noise of protest in the background. "Is he okay!? Can I talk to him!? Did he miss me!?"

April raises her wrist so the tech is in front of Leo's mouth. He tilts his head towards it, saying, "Course I missed you."

"LEO!" screams Mikey even louder, and Raph thinks he hears the shout from somewhere in the building, too.

"-key, give me back my arm-" comes Donnie's voice, then there's an exaggerated throat clearing before he's saying, "We'll be there in one minute. Be ready to move."

"We're ready," Raph assures him. They move to the door and watch for the others to appear.

-----

Days of stress seem to fall off his brothers and Splinter when they see Leo.

Raph wishes they could have all the hugs and reassurances he knows they all need, but there's just no time; they're still in enemy territory, and the man who hurt his brother the most is just behind two doors, only being held by Draxum's vines. There's time only for brief shoulder touches and for Splinter to jump up on Raph's shoulder and give Leo's forehead a quick, relieved kiss.

Raph gives the rest of his family a quick glance over. Mikey is carrying Leo's gear, the katana sheathed across his shell and the rest of it slung over his shoulder. They haven't gotten any injuries, as far as he can tell. Everyone looks good to go.

"How do we get out of here?" asks Raph. Donnie pulls up his wrist tech.

"It may be inevitable that we'll face resistance on our way out... But the closest door is this way." He points down the hall, back the way Raph, Draxum, and April came from.

There's a weak thump against Raph's shoulder. "Gunners on the roof," Leo rasps once he has Raph's attention.

Raph wonders how he knows that, but there's no time to ask.

"We took care of 'em," he says instead. "You just relax, okay? We're getting out of here."

Leo lets his head fall against Raph's shoulder again, and Raph takes that as the okay to move.

It takes less time to get out than it did to get in. No need for stealth now that the director knows they're here, after all.

They run down the hallways, through doors, past the still unconscious guard April took care of earlier. Draxum takes the lead through the door, and they all crash as a group outside.

Where a ring of soldiers are waiting for them, guns trained their direction. And Raph isn't sure they're loaded with darts this time.

Leo shudders in his arms, and Raph curls protectively around him, already summoning his ninpo to shield them. His family forms their own protective barrier around the two of them, readying their weapons and squaring off against the soldiers.

Behind them, the door opens.

"This doesn't have to end in anyone getting hurt," says Bishop as he walks out.

Raph doesn't turn towards him, keeping the shivering Leo out of his sight. "What, like you didn't hurt my brother?"

"I've already told you, I didn't touch him." Bishop sounds only mildly put out. "He can attest to that himself."

"It's cute that you think any of us care what you have to say," snaps April, rounding on him and pointing her bat his direction.

"You should care what I have to say." Bishop nods at Raph. "Your comrade needs medical attention. Care that I can provide, if you lower your weapons and surrender."

"Care he only needs 'cause you jerks kidnapped him!" yells Mikey.

"Mikey," whispers Leo. Raph glances down at him, but Leo isn't looking his way.

"I gave Inmate 24365 plenty of chances to cooperate in exchange for more comfortable living conditions. That he declined was his choice. But I have no wish to see him dead. We were going to transfer him to the medical unit just as you arrived and interrupted us; surrender, and we'll take him there now."

"No," snaps Splinter, stepping toward Bishop. "You will come nowhere near my sons ever again."

"Mikey," Leo hisses with more urgency.

"These turtles are your sons? Really?" Bishop sounds disbelieving. Raph still doesn't turn his direction. "What am I supposed to believe next? That humans can give birth to birds?"

"They are my sons!" Splinter asserts. "Come near them again, and you are dead!"

"Perhaps we should kill him now, Lou Jitsu, and be done with it," Draxum suggests.

"Mikey," says Leo, kicking one emaciated foot. Mikey finally looks their way, confused. "Gimme... swords."

He doesn't have to explain. But Raph feels uneasy. He exchanges a glance with Donnie, who seems similarly concerned. "Nardo, I don't think-"

"Hey," says Leo, and even though his vocal chords sound tired and out of use, they can all hear him, their confident face-man of a brother, with a big ego and a cocky tone, shining through. "Trust me, I got this."

Mikey gives him the katana.

"The American government have allowed the yokai to live peacefully within our borders up until now," says Bishop. "If you kill me, that peace will be ruined."

"This war was started when you kidnapped my child!" cries Splinter, snapping his tail.

"You threaten the Hidden Cities as though you know anything about them," says Draxum. "They do not fear you."

"We know more about them than you think."

"You expect me to listen to this blathering?"

"Is it a chance you're willing to take, Draxum?"

Draxum falls silent. The lack of answer makes Raph feel even more on edge. But Leo is holding his katana now.

"You'll threaten the yokai no matter what we do today," says Splinter, voice dark. "No. We will not hand Leonardo over to you. You will not lay a single finger on him."

"So you're saying you won't surrender." Bishop pauses. Leo takes a deep breath. "You agree, Draxum?"

"...Leonardo is my creation. My son." Draxum sounds resolute. "No. I will not surrender."

Bishop scoffs. "Your son... this animal."

It's only the fact that he's holding Leo, fragile and shaking in his arms, that keeps Raph from turning around and killing Bishop right then.

But he doesn't, and Bishop raises his voice.

"Baron Draxum is a known yokai terrorist, who has threatened mass murder on the civilian human population of the United States and the rest of the earth. These five yokai are co-conspirators, and this woman with them a sympathizer and accomplice. They are attacking this base with the intent to harm those inside, and so anything we do now is self defense."

There's a smile in his tone as he says it.

"Fire at will."

Around them, triggers are pulled, and gunshots sound off.

But the flash of blue under their feet is faster.

For the first time since coming outside, Raph chances a look over his shoulder at Bishop, just as he's falling through the portal. Bullets whiz overhead, and one hits home.

The last thing Raph sees as he disappears into the blue light is blood blooming across Bishop's suit.

-----

They fall out of the portal somewhere outside the fence. Raph's not sure exactly where. He's not even sure Leo was aiming, beyond getting them away.

He lets out a relieved laugh, looking around at everyone, in one piece and notably not shot. They still have to get back to the tank, but they made it. They're safe.

"Leo! You did it!" He whoops, looking down at his little brother. "I can't believe you really- ...Leo?"

That's when he realizes that Leo isn't moving.

He's slumped over in Raph's hold, no longer holding himself up. His katana slip out of his lax grip and fall into the snow with a soft whump.

"L-leo!? LEO!"

Part 1 | Part 2 (here) | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A |

#rottmnt #dandy fanfiction #rise raph #rise april #rise mikey #rise donnie #baron draxum #rise splinter #rise leo #cw violence #cw guns

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inkedinshadows · 1 month ago

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Reddened Cheeks

Day 18: Impact play — Cassian x f!reader

Warnings: spanking, p in v, rough sex

Word count: 823

“Don’t forget to count them, sweetheart.”

Cassian’s warning rang in your head, and you were quick to reply, “Eight.”

“That’s right.” His rough calloused hand palmed the red flesh of your ass. “Just two more and then you can have my cock.”

You closed your eyes, waiting for the impact of the next smack. You were on your hands and knees on the bed, face pressed into the pillow as Cassian knelt behind you. But the impact didn’t come.

You turned your head to look at him, a plea already on your tongue, when you saw the almost feral grin on his lips and his hand came down on your ass once more.

He’d been waiting for you to turn, to see the slight pain on your face as he spanked you.

Your body jolted forward and you whimpered, yet you still choked out, “N-nine.”

He would start all over again if you forgot a number, and there was no way you could take ten more spankings before feeling him inside you. You were already soaked, wetness dripping down your thighs with each new slap.

Cassian massaged the cheek he’d just hit, and you thought he would wait as long as before to smack you again, so you relaxed just a bit. But he probably knew you would do that because this time he spanked you immediately, harder than before.

The number came out as a scream and tears lined your eyes, but Cassian was already fondling your ass, and he leaned over your back until his mouth was close to your ear.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” he soothed, his voice a sensual murmur that made you shiver. “You did so well. You can have my cock now.”

You whined just at the thought and tried to push yourself up on your elbows. “Yes… Yes, please…”

Cassian pulled back with a chuckle, and it took him only a moment to line himself with your dripping entrance.

You both moaned when he began to slowly push in, the familiar stretch of his thick cock mixing with the stinging pain in your ass.

“You’re so wet, sweetheart…”

You knew from the growl in his voice he was not going to be gentle, and you gripped the sheets tightly in your fists to prepare for it.

Cassian didn’t waste any time. As soon as he bottomed out, he grabbed your hips and set a punishing rhythm that had your eyes roll back. He hit that sensitive spot inside you with each deep thrust.

“Fuck…” you mewled as you tried to follow his pace and move with him. “Fuck, Cass… don’t stop…”

A hand came down on your ass again and the tears began rolling, from pain or pleasure you could no longer tell. But if Cassian noticed, he didn’t care.

“Yeah?” he groaned as he spanked you again. “You like that?”

“Fuck, yes, baby…”

He pushed you down on the bed, arching your back the way he wanted it until only your backside was up in the air. The perfect position for him to slap you again and for his cock to hit even deeper inside you.

Fortunately, he didn’t ask you to count this time. You forgot numbers, even forgot your own name as he pounded into you, alternating the cheeks he would spank and giving you only a few seconds of reprieve between one smack and the other.

“Fuck, you look so good like this, baby.” He spread your cheeks, his gentle kneading so at odds with the frantic thrusts. “With my handprint on your ass.”

The thought of it being there tomorrow—and maybe even the day after—, of seeing it in the mirror, and of being unable to sit because of the sting had you clenching around him.

Cassian growled low in his throat and spanked you again. “Are you going to come for me, sweetheart?”

Your legs were shaking, and so many obscene sounds were spilling from your lips that your voice came out as a sob. “Yes… Yes, make me come, please.”

If possible, his pace became faster and he fucked you into the mattress, your face buried in the pillow as you twisted the sheets in your fingers. And then his hand collided with your ass again, and your cry was a mix of pleasure and pain as you came, squeezing his cock inside you.

Cassian gripped your hips again hard enough to bruise and thrust a few more times before he released his seed deep inside you with a groan.

He stilled, both of you panting heavily, and if it weren’t for his hands still holding you, you would have collapsed on the bed.

You whimpered when he pulled out, but soon felt his lips press a few kisses over your shoulders and your back.

“Let me go get the ice for you,” he murmured against your skin, his usual caring note now back in his voice.

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#kinktober 2024 #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian acotar #cassian smut #cassian fanfic #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfic #acotar smut #a court of thorns and roses #sjm #sarah j maas #smut #kinktober #drabble #fanfiction

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katszumi · 10 months ago

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Part Two

“We won.” The words left Iwaizumi’s mouth. It was the second time he said it that week. Another win for Seijoh, leaving the other team completely defenseless. It was another easy win for them.

Another win, yet another loss in his book.

He promised himself that he’d confess to you after the game. Everyday, the words repeat in his head like a mantra. Everytime he sees you, he waits for the words to leave his mouth, but they don’t. They never do.

He hates himself for it. He wished that he could just grow up and say it. Iwaizumi knew there wasn’t much time before you both graduated, and you both knew that you’d separate after.

He wanted nothing more than to cherish this time with you.

He watched as your usual bright smile stretched across your face, eyes dancing and bleeding with pride. God, he never got tired of seeing that.

“I knew you could.” It was something he heard many times before, but he didn’t have a problem with it. No. He loved it. Loved that he had your support.

There were tons of people that supported him. He was in a powerhouse school so it wasn’t odd that there were lines of people cheering his name. Yet, he only heard you. Everytime you’d scream his name, your voice would echo in his head, telling himself to play even harder to guarantee the win that day.

He remembered you wearing his jersey once. Technically, it was ‘wear your favorite player’s jersey’ at Aoba Johsai. Mostly, it was Oikawa’s jersey that was spread throughout the school. Iwaizumi truly didn’t care that he didn’t see anyone wearing his, until he saw you.

There you were standing in the crowd alongside your two friends dressed in his jersey. He remembered how fast the heat crept up his neck, blooming across his face without warning. How rapid his heart was racing, causing him to stop in place and stare at you with a tilted head. He was shocked.

He remembered how Oikawa wrapped his shoulder around him with a crooked grin. They said nothing but from his posture Iwaizumi knew Oikawa was teasing him. Though, he didn’t care in that moment. He was too happy. Happy that you were there for him. Happy you even wore his jersey.

He remembered how Oikawa faked him into going on a date with you. Well, more of a study session. All of the third years made plans to study at the library, but it was only you and him that came. While you only saw this as ditching, Iwaizumi knew that they did this so he could confess.

He was such a blushy mess being alone and close to you. Especially when you asked for help on a specific problem, his hand lightly brushed against yours as he grabbed the pencil from you, his hand immediately recoiling back as he stuttered for words. You looked up at him and grinned muttering sorry. He didn’t know why you said it, but he nodded. That day he didn’t confess either.

He remembered finding you between two vending machines, crouched down and head into your knees. Your body was shaking as choked sobs parted your lips. Immediately, he kneeled down and asked you what was wrong but you didn’t say anything. You didn’t even look up at him. Iwaizumi was unsure of what to do since he’s never been in a situation like this before. Besides, it was you. You were headstrong, it was strange to see you break down in school.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the feeling of two arms wrapping around his stomach and a head pressing into the crook of his neck ceased him from doing so. You cried into his neck, holding him tightly like he would slip away from your grasp. He thought it was selfish to be enjoying her touch like this, but only pure bliss filled his heart.

Turns out, your grades were slipping and it wasn’t guaranteed you were going to make it into university.

He remembered the wide smile that spread across your face when you aced a test that he helped you study. You took no time to engulf him into another tight hug. Iwaizumi stiffened at your touch. Unlike last time, your arms were around his neck. Your hand placed slightly below his nape. Hesitantly but surely, he placed his fit arms on your waist. For a moment he could’ve swore that you moved in closer, but he wasn’t so sure since he was focusing on not breaking down right there and then.

He remembered the first time he went inside your home. You were down with a fever, and your parents were at work. He took the day off to aid you, hoping for a quick recovery to get back at school. Your room was nothing like he expected. It was nice, and had a sweet scent.

You were embarrassed for having him see you so sick like, but he didn’t mind. You asked him how could he not be disgusted by your looks, he responded by saying you looked exactly like he always saw you. Disgusting, is what you replied with jokingly. Iwaizumi laughed with you, his heart aching with the familiar feeling he’s experienced before. More than ever, he wanted to tell you. But he just couldn’t.

He remembered the train ride home you two took that one day, not walking since it was pouring. Iwaizumi stood, holding onto the bar to keep himself balanced while you sat. You insisted for him to sit down with you since it was still a long way to go till you both got off, but he declined. He didn’t want to invade your privacy. The seat was mildly close to yours, it was definite that he’d accidentally touch you in a matter of time. He didn’t want to go through that embarrassment, nor the apologies.

After minutes of pestering, he finally sat down beside you, his legs relishing the relief he felt from standing all day. That day he learned more and more about you: your favorite animal, favorite food, favorite place, your plans after highschool, he learned it all. From the corner of his eye he noticed your head drooping, eyelids falling. In the nick of time, he caught your head from toppling over. Unsure of what to do with it, Iwaizumi did the most selfish thing he could— He placed it onto his shoulder.

Moments after, your hand found it’s way onto his. So much for ‘invading privacy’.

Finally, he remembered the solace in his heart when he heard you reject the rumors about you and Oikawa dating. You two were growing closer, leaving Iwaizumi as a grumpy, insecure mess. The practices were more tense than they usually were, all of the 1st and 2nd years confused as to who shifted the mood. The 3rd hears already knew, and they were sure why. The rumors had been going around for about a week so it wasn’t surprising that they heard of it.

Iwaizumi didn’t want to believe it, but Oikawa was the golden boy at the school, everyone fell for him. And Iwaizumi was just him. He knew there wasn’t much of a competition, he knew that you were going to pick him, and that’s why it hurt so much. He cried almost every night, refusing to speak to anyone at school or home. He also avoided you, making sure to take the longer routes to his classes and staying ten minutes after school just so you’d miss him and walk home by yourself.

But one day, there you were, waiting for him at the gates. You demanded for him to tell you why he was avoiding you, but he wouldn’t share. You kept hassling him hoping for something to slip out, and it did. In the most snarkiest way he replied with, “Why are you bothering me? Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend?” He pronounced boyfriend in the most mocking way, that it made you sneer. You laughed in his face, causing his heart to break even more. Iwaizumi turned around aiming to get as far away from you as he could, but you grabbed onto his hand before he could take a step. You instantly shot down his assumption, claiming that it was only a rumor, that you and Oikawa were friends and nothing more.

That day Iwaizumi felt like an idiot. He should’ve asked instead of recklessly jumping to conclusions and leaving you in the dust. It was unfair. Mentally, he cursed at himself for being so inconsiderate towards you. Only one thought entered his mind for the rest of the day: I should just confess already.

And here you are, shining your toothy smile at him, eyes ablaze with exhilaration nearly lighting the night sky itself. You were just so alluring. There was never a day where his heart stopped beating for you, where that same crimson blush stopped occuring, where he would try to find open spots in his day to spend with you. The feeling inside of him was overwhelming, the feeling coursed through his veins like it was his blood, like a drug he couldn’t live without. He wanted you. He needed you.

And like he was starved, his mouth opened before he could process anything.

“I love you.”

IWAIZUMI BRAINROT OH MY GOSH😫

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cybsoo2 · 6 months ago

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blind fight

╰┈➤ synopsis — Poor Beomgyu is scared of storms. The thunder threatens his pride, and the lightning leaves him with a sudden switch of personality. He just hopes his hostage doesn't mind taking care of her captor.

╰┈➤ pairing —yandere!beomgyu x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 1.3k

╰┈➤ content warning — yandere behavior, verbal abuse, small section of violence, strong language, run girl run.

Thunder strikes down the sun. The chaos it creates is a cacophony of loud noises and bright lights. Beomgyu hesitates for only a second, a hitch of his breath and halted movements before he continues on his tirade.

“Are you fucking stupid!?” A mix of anger and amusement make up his expression. “Running off in the middle of the night. It’s dangerous out there! Anyone could have gotten a hold of you and, fuck– How many times do I have to tell you before you get it through your thick skull!” He draws closer to where you cower in the corner. You keep your eyes on him as you crawl backwards, bringing some sort of distance between you and his stone-cold stare. At the sight of you scampering away like prey from its predator, Beomgyu makes a sudden move to seize you. He takes your wrists in both hands and slams your back against the wall. “Do you want to test me? Is that it?” His psycho stare stabs into you and a sick sense of terror seems to have tripped into your stomach.

“No! No, I-” A rushed response falls from your lips only to be interrupted.

“You like hurting me don’t you? Does it give you a sick sense of satisfaction?” He leaves no room for you to respond before his dangerous delusions continue their rampage. “You need me don’t you understand! You need me! You’d be dead in a ditch if you didn’t have me!” His screams shake your body. A growing fear begins to fester deep in your heart. You can feel your throat tightening, unable to stumble out even the simplest of apologies.

The second strike of thunder is worse than the first. This time Beomgyu finds himself fumbling over his words. The teases he taunted you with are now trapped in his throat. He can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as his anxiety eclipses.

“You’re sick! Why do you keep hurting me like this?” His words are weak. Voice trembling under the terror of the storm. His hands loosen their grip only slightly. His body betraying him as it shrinks down to appear even smaller than you. He tries to use his cold words to regain control, but a crash of thunder beats him to it.

He flinches back at the flash of light. Rapidly blinking back the blue tears that threaten to fall. In his eyes, all he can see is the light. An attack of blinding brightness burns deep into his eyes. It takes control of his thoughts and eats at his emotions. He struggles to see past the terror of the storm, and for a second, he forgets what he was so angry about.

“You can’t leave me. I won’t let you.”

The fourth strike is what ends him. Beomgyu collapses at your feet, crying and crumpled up into a ball. He has the bottom of your pajama pants clutched tight in his hold. Trying to find an anchor while fighting through his fear. His fists shake and his knuckles whiten with the force of his grip. This small action is as much for himself as it is for you. While he lays like a pathetic pile on the floor, he still holds you tight in fear that you’ll run away again.

He utters his last words before he loses his breath to the sobs that shake his body, “I’m all you have. Why can’t you understand that?” With those final words, the fight flees from his body. All his anger has bled him dry only to be replaced with a bout of sadness.

You peer down at him in shock. It’s a pitiful sight to see, him sobbing at your feet begging you not to leave while you hold all the power in the palm of your hand. You could run away right now and he wouldn’t have the strength to stop you. You can’t help but let out a little laugh at how pathetic he is. His rageful rant was rather hypocritical wasn’t it? You can see through all the lies he’s strung through his sentences. Lies of how he’s your only hope. Lies that you need him. Lies that you love him. When really it’s all the opposite.

Lovesickness is a dying disease. Beomgyu clings to you like a second skin. His bittersweet affections are suffocating. He sets up unrealistic rules so long as you stay by his side. He can’t live without you and he refuses to accept that.

Escaping a life-like hell is all you’ve ever wanted. Failed attempt after failed attempt filled you with desperation. Now a miracle has shown you mercy. Beomgyu is powerless, paralyzed by fear and succumbing to his internal emotions.

After struggling to get out of his grip, you take a step away from the boy that’s bawling at your feet. You walk backwards into the dark hall behind you. Closer to the door and further away from the life you once lived. You reach for the door handle, freedom at the tips of your fingers. The apartment is dark and decaying, it’s slowly killing your soul to live like this. You can see the light shining through the cracks of the door. Heaven holds out its hand, trying to take you in its arms and away from earth. Crying is all you can do, because wishing on a star finally filled you with wonder. Your heart is so happy now that you’ve been given a chance to escape your cage. To fly free like the birds you watched from the window. So why can’t you open the door?

Your doubt doubles down and you make the regretful choice to take one last look. Your eyes immediately meet his. His eyes are but sunken circles, drained of colour and stained with sadness. Six steps away and he’s already accepted your escape. His soul is slowly dying with every step you take. His heart still beating but body bleeding out in betrayal. Tears trail down his face. He looks pretty with a pink nose and pathetic look in his eyes. Under the last bit of moonlight, he looks like the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. This sliver of vulnerability makes you see him in a different light. He’s fragile and troubled but oh-so beautiful.

His love is a little rough, it leaves marks like red kisses. And his life is a little lost, abandoned as a boy and searching for a soulmate. But, Beomgyu is worth loving, and who would do that if not you?

You take a step back into your lowly life. Walking towards the inconsolable boy, you kneel down to be on his level. You hold out your hand, offering up your heart for him to keep.

Beomgyu looks up at you through thick lashes. He blinks back his tears and a look of confusion crosses his face. His eyes lock in on the hand that hovers over his own. Hesitantly, he grips your cold flesh in his hand. Even after everything, you still chose to stay. With that realization, he breaks down completely. Throwing himself into your arms and crying away all his tears until the drought. Beomgyu clings to you, clutching you tightly and trying to get closer. He cries into the crook of your neck, not holding back. It’s an ugly expression but he doesn’t care. He won’t hide his heart away any longer. He’ll bare his brutal truths and be the most honest man you’ll ever meet. Because as long as he’s a lovesick loser, you’ll stay by his side for forever to come.

#tomorrow x together #txt x reader #txt imagine #txt imagines #txt x you #txt fanfic #txt fic #txt drabble #yandere txt #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu imagine #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu fic #yandere beomgyu #beomgyu drabble #beomgyu #beomgyu fluff

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gravitycavity · 2 months ago

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Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 8 - Take the Plunge

[Click here to read from the beginning on AO3!]

Cover art by @blukiar

Pomni.

A bead of sweat traced a numbing line across her face.

Pomni. Pomni. Pomni. Over and over again, the familiar sound pummeled her ears, yet she was powerless to hear it.

Pomni. Pomni. Trapped in the endless corridor, she stood before the centipede’s wretched shadow, stomach seizing, pupils shrinking, acrid bile smoldering in the deepest depths of her throat. Dread — profound and overwhelming — gurgled like poison through her veins.

This couldn’t be real, she told herself, watching through shimmering eyes as one-hundred chitin-glazed legs chattered toward her. This had to be a nightmare, she insisted, flinching at the shadows in her periphery, feeling every shiver and quake of Ragatha’s form in her clammy palms.

Pomni. Pomni. Pomni.

Pomni. Pomni—

“Pomni!” Ragatha screamed; at long last, her voice had pierced through the veil. The ragdoll snatched the scruff of Pomni’s tunic, shaking the jester as hard as her weakened body could. “What are you doing?! Why are you just standing there!?”

With a jolt, Pomni came to, gawking at Ragatha as if she’d forgotten the cotton-stuffed damsel was even there. “Huh…?” she shook her head, “Wh-What?”

“Don’t look at me like that! Do something!”

Pomni pitched an anxious glance down the hall. A discordant ensemble of prickling steps played a persistent crescendo, growing ever louder as the beastly centipede closed the distance. “B-But I…! But I don’t—” she warbled, gasping through tears, “I don’t know what to—”

“Run!” Ragatha shoved Pomni closer.

“Run where?!”

“AWAY!”

The little jester dipped forward with a frustrated grunt. She couldn’t argue with that. “O-Okay!” she finally forced out, holding Ragatha tight and barreling forward with no thought, no direction, and no plan. “Okay!” she huffed, “Okay!” she croaked, “Okay!” she sobbed.

Tears shimmered behind Pomni’s eyes as she sprinted for life and limb, shivering soles pummeling the endless ribbon of carpet underneath. Her destination was but an afterthought; all she could do was run, as fast and as far away as her body could carry her.

There was just one small wrinkle in the plan, however: Pomni could run fast, but so could the centipede. And the centipede was faster. By a longshot.

No matter how far the elastic corridor stretched, or how many corners the little jester swerved around, the beast’s omnipresent shadow — spread across all four walls by flickering chandelier lights — stalked her all the same.

The shape, spelled in darkness, was a thing of nightmares. A despicable, wriggling horde of insect parts, growing and bending and stretching in the wavering light. Clicking legs. Undulating antennae. Crunching pincers, primed to devour the beast’s next meal. Pomni swore she could feel their venomous touch as the wriggling silhouette reached for her ankles.

Every pixel of the young woman’s digital form begged her to toss a glance behind herself — but her twisted guts were wiser than that. Under no circumstances could she look back. She couldn’t look back. She couldn’t even think about it. Couldn’t look back. Couldn’t look back. Couldn’t—

Look back. Just for a moment.

Couldn’t look back—

The shadow is stretching. It’s right behind you.

Couldn’t look back—

It’s getting closer. Closer. Closer. Closer—

Pomni grunted, succumbing to temptation just as she knew she would, but her meek, over-the-shoulder glance failed to do her any good. All it did was reinforce just how quickly the centipede was gaining on her — and distract her from a pesky fold in the carpet that she really would have been better off having seen.

She tripped.

“@#$&! Nononono—” Pomni gasped, squeezing Ragatha tighter as she stumbled forward. Had she full control over her arms, she may have been able to right her sudden spill — but given her ragdoll cargo, there was simply nowhere to go but down.

Pomni clenched her teeth, skidding roughly across the scratchy carpet. Ragatha tumbled helplessly out of her arms, and just like that, the chase was over.

The writhing shadow that had ruthlessly pursued Pomni turned manifest in a matter of seconds. Pomni felt her stomach convulse in disgust as the centipede — and all one-hundred of its prickling legs — scuttled across her back in pursuit of its ragdoll prey.

“No…!” Ragatha gasped, eyes sinking, mouth twisting before the living nightmare crawling toward her, “D-Don’t come any closer! Get away! Stop!”

Pomni struggled to stand — hell, she struggled to speak — as an endless parade of insectine legs crushed her underfoot. She was pinned; for every step the beast laid down upon her, it felt as if a spear were being driven straight through her backside.

The centipede’s foul head, meanwhile, loomed over the cowering dolly, noxious drool flowing like water from its quivering maw. Ragatha shrieked bloody murder as its pincers pierced the fabric flesh of her arm. A garden of hairline cracks, winding like wild vines, was etched across the windows.

Its prey all but secured, the centipede stood up straight, dragging Ragatha off of the ground with trivial effort. Ragathas dangled helplessly from the beast’s maw, screaming in horror, spangling the floor with tears as her captor scurried off to God-knows-where.

Pomni didn’t wait. She growled like a wild animal, scrambling to her feet despite the burning pain carved across her back. With a running start, she dove forward with gusto, tackling the pair of long horns that served as the centipede’s tail.

The little jester held on with all of her might, letting herself be dragged until she finally managed to hoist herself up onto the centipede’s trunk. The moment she’d mounted the beast, she began to slowly crawl up the length of its body — and it wasn’t long before she found herself at the centipede’s midsection.

“Let! Her! Go!” Once, twice, thrice, she pounded her knuckles into the beast’s hard exterior, and with each successive hit, her face coiled further in pain. Trying to crack the centipede’s exoskeleton with her bare fists was akin to trading blows with a brick wall — and felt just about as torturously painful.

Pomni winched, grimacing at her throbbing hand. “Just…! Just…!” she gasped, “Come on!”. She shoved her whole weight behind a fourth hit, a fifth hit, a sixth, and a seventh — but the arthropod’s outer armor proved itself utterly impenetrable.

Pomni cursed under her breath, glancing at the empty hilt hitched to her belt. How was she supposed to do any damage when her sword was stuck in a petrified tree miles away?! Her pupils flinched around the whites of her eyes, combing the infinite corridor for something, anything, that could possibly serve as a substitute weapon.

The pickings were perilously slim. Lion-pawed sofas and empty shelves lined the hall aplenty, but anything resembling practical weaponry was nowhere to be found. There were no swords mounted to the walls, no halberds clutched by empty suits of armor, no antique rifles displayed proudly behind shatterproof glass.

The only objects that could do any damage were the assorted busts of Margarethe MacGuffin scattered through the hall — but one-hundred-plus pounds of solid marble was too heavy for Pomni to wield. It was almost like they were placed in the hall just to mock her — to make her the punchline of some sick cosmic joke.

Pomni felt her stomach churning, her skin itching, her forehead being tickled by warm beads of sweat. What now?

The centipede picked up its speed, barreling down the hall with its loudly-sobbing prey in tow. Pomni tightened her grip around the beast’s trunk as the mansion trembled once again. Dirt, drywall, and a smothering tide of what-ifs swarmed into the jester’s lungs with every shuddering breath.

What was she supposed to do?

The world spun around her. Sparks of crippling pain stunned her body. A raging wildfire of panic blackened her lungs, roasting them from the inside-out, and—

— Wait a minute. Was that a…?

Pomni exhaled, eyes bulging as the darkness that drowned the end of the hallway gave way to feeble rays of light. The infinite hallway, as it turned out, wasn’t quite so infinite after all — and Pomni gawked at the sight waiting for her as the tail-end came into view:

There was an elevator.

A single, old-fashioned elevator, stationed at the very end of the corridor.

Oh, no.

Even from a distance, it was evident — the mansion’s rapid deterioration had already done its part in reducing the antiquated contraption into a surefire death trap. The rusted doors were bent completely out of shape. Half of the sconces were now just a nasty carpet of broken glass. One of the elevator’s overhead cables had already snapped in twain, causing the entire car to slant to one side.

Pomni didn’t need to be an obsessive worrier to picture what might happen the moment she dared to step inside.

The young woman blinked with morbid fascination as the beat-up elevator car swung left and right like an oversized pendulum. A certain idea took root in Pomni’s head — an idea so horrendous, so atrocious, so stomach-churningly awful that she could barely stand to even entertain it. But, as awful as it was, it was something. And ‘something’ at this point, no matter how terrible, was leagues better than the ‘nothing’ she’d been working with up to now.

There was no time to come up with anything better, no time to doubt herself, no time to catastrophize over the thousands of little things that might go awry, no matter how desperately the aching knot in her heart obliged her.

She had to make a choice — it was now or never.

God help her.

“Ragatha!” Pomni yelled, glaring up at the centipede’s head — her destination. “Hang in there — I have an idea!”

Slowly and deliberately, Pomni inched up the rest of the creature’s worm-like body, fighting tooth and nail to hold it together against the dissonant orchestra of sensations that plagued her senses.

The constant motion, blurring her vision? Stomach-churningly awful. She pushed forward anyway.

Spindly, cracking legs constantly brushing against her arms? Revolting. She didn’t even think of quitting.

The odor of rotting bark emanating from the slick surface of the centipede itself? It took everything Pomni had to not puke — but she persisted, climbing higher until, at last, she’d crested the centipede’s head.

Pomni steeled herself. Here goes nothing.

“Let her go!” she demanded, plunging her fingers straight into the beast’s drooling maw. She pulled up with all of her might. The hundred-legged creature bucked like a temperamental steed, fighting with everything it had to toss the saboteur off its head — but the jester refused to be cast off so easily.

“Come on!” Pomni grunted, flexing her drool-covered fingers to adjust her grip. She yanked her trembling arms at every possible angle, yet the creature’s powerful jaws simply refused to yield. “Let…her…go!”

The centipede grunted. It bucked again, nearly striking one of the gargantuan chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Pomni wasn’t so lucky, nearly losing her grip as she was struck in the face by the large glass fixture.

“Son of a #@$!%…” she growled, bitterly pounding her heel into the centipede’s head. Again, she tried to pry the creature’s mouth open, but even she knew her efforts were doomed to fail.

“Ragatha! I’m trying, but I can’t get its mouth open!” said Pomni, wilting forward in defeat, “Wh-What am I supposed to do? I can’t—”

More agitated than ever, and far from giving up, the centipede bucked for a third time, catching an exhausted Pomni completely off-guard. The jester barely had time to notice what had happened before she was sent sliding off the monster’s head.

“What?! No! Nonono—” Pomni groped around in blind panic, searching for something to grab hold of. Fortunately, she would easily find it. Unfortunately, that ‘it’ was none other than Ragatha herself.

A harrowing scream — and the sound of tearing fabric — filled the corridor as

Pomni’s fingers skidded down the length of Ragatha’s legs, stopping just above the heels. Pomni’s face flinched upward, shock and horror spelled in bold across her face.

The stress of Pomni’s weight had ripped open the sensitive seams connecting Ragatha’s arm to the rest of her body. Black sludge, infested with peering, neon-colored eyes, dripped like blood from the open wound. The foul abstraction wasted no time slithering across the exterior of Ragatha’s body, closely hugging her frame.

Ragatha whimpered in pain, tear-soaked face turned away from the gory sight.

“Ah! I-I’m sorry!” Pomni gasped, plate-sized pupils watching lumps of cotton and toxic tar tumble out from between stretching seams, “Your arm! It’s—’”

The grunting, fuming beast cared about only one thing, and that was dinner. Determined to have its meal, it whipped its head left and right, leveraging its massive strength to dislodge the pesky clown hanging off its prey.

The seam between the ragdoll’s arm and body felt the stress, and one-by-one, the remaining stitches popped loose. Then, with one final, miserable tear, Ragatha’s arm was fully severed from her body. Both girls — too stunned to move, and too breathless to scream — hit the floor like two sacks of heavy stones.

The centipede hissed, scopious trunk worming about in frantic search of its lost prey. Its head squirmed left and right, low and high, violently thrashing into anything and everything that dared to stand in its way.

The giant arthropod smashed into one wall, and then the other. Deep fissures, branching like lightning bolts, flashed across both surfaces. The corridor’s oddly-placed furniture was the next to meet its match, reduced to jagged shards of shattered wood with only a handful of rage-fueled strikes. Nothing seemed able to stop the rampage — until, of course, the centipede decided that one of the hallway’s extravagant chandeliers would be its next target.

Bad move.

The fixture swung in broad, hastened strokes. A sizzling hiss broadcasted the beast’s pain as plumes of molten wax, splattered from hundreds of burning candles, seared the centipede’s tough outer armor. Then, with a violent snap, the feeble chain that held the chandelier forgot its tenuous grip on the ceiling. Thousands of pounds worth of beads, branches, and bobèches collapsed onto the beast, pelting its exoskeleton with relentless persistence.

The centipede twitched, buried beneath a mountain of twisted metal and broken glass.

In the stunning silence that ensued, a honeyed voice, soured by despair, struggled to make itself heard. “Pomni…” it said, barely louder than Pomni’s gasping breaths. “I’m…I think I’m…”

“Ragatha…?” Pomni blinked, pushing her battered body off the floor. “R-Ragatha!” she yelped, scrambling to her feet and rushing to Ragatha’s side — but her panicked stride skidded to a halt mere seconds later.

Pomni smothered her mouth with her tremlbing palm. Her feet retreated by a single step.

Ragatha was fading. Fast.

Pitch black abstraction, infested with a rash of vibrant, restless eyes, flowed from the open wound left behind by the ragdoll’s missing arm. The blight clung like molten tar to the curves of her body, and seared her skin just the same.

Ragatha gasped dollish features twisting in terror and confusion as they watched the toxin spread. “What? No no no—” Her heart pounded in her chest; with every pump, the midnight curse stuttered up her quaking shoulder, across her sunken chest, around her shuddering waist. “Please! Help me!” she pleaded, “This isn’t happening…this isn’t happening!”

“I-It’s gonna be okay! D-D-Don’t worry!” Pomni swallowed, reaching—

But Ragatha flinched away like a frightened animal. “No! Get away from me! You can’t—” she gasped through tears. A cluster of blinking eyes sprouted on her neck. On her hip. Her back. “If you touch me, you’ll—”

“I don’t care!”

“What?!”

“I. Don’t. Care!” Pomni said. She hoisted Ragatha off the floor, pinning the wriggling dolly against her side. The moment her digital avatar made contact with Ragatha’s, a treacherously-uncomfortable sensation — like pins and needles charged with static electricity — sizzled up from her wrist to her shoulder.

In less than a half-second, Pomni’s arm was in total disarray. The complex network of functions, formulas, and floating points that defined the scrawny digital limb rebelled against themselves, ensnared in a never ending, cannibalistic battle for control over their own existence. One moment, her arm was twice as long. The other, thrice as wide. One moment, her hand had five fingers, the other, negative three. Polygons flickered and twisted, stretched and compressed, bent and broke with only one rule to follow: that there were no rules.

Grimacing, Pomni leaned into a sprint toward the elevator, staving off the urge to gawk as the unfolding chaos spread to the side of her torso. It didn’t make sense to look, after all: she already knew, whether she wanted to or not, the crippling consequences of touching an abstracting player.

“P-Pomni…” Ragatha whimpered, struggling to meet the jester’s gaze. The sweet and caring ragdoll was in miserable, miserable shape. The shape of her body began to warp as the infection progressed; sharp corners jutted out as her digital model simplified into an abstract, low-poly lump of nothing.

The grisly sight plunged Pomni’s little heart into depths unseen. “Hey, hey! Don’t worry!” she assured, cradling the weakened dolly tighter, “Everything’s gonna be just fine — I promise!”

Faintly, Ragatha lifted her head. The will to fight faded in her eyes, as though she knew that the frigid despair pumping from her ruptured heart was unstoppable; only a scant few places — the bottoms of her flat Mary Janes, the stitched tips of her simplified hands, and half of her cherubic face — remained un-abstracted.

Still, she spoke. “I…love you so much, my Sunshine,” she croaked, leaning her head against Pomni’s chest. The weakened grimace upon her face shied away from two tearful eyes. “I’m sorry our story had to end this way…”

“Come on! Don’t talk like that!” Pomni scolded between haggard breaths, “It’s not over yet!”

“Maybe,” Ragatha said. “Whatever happens, Pomni, I want you to know — you are everything. My whole wide world. And you always will be.” Pearly tears glistened down the soft curves of her cheeks, “I just wish I could have learned your real name. Or brushed my thumbs across your real cheeks, or rested my head on your real shoulders…”

“You will! I promise you will!” Pomni’s fierce gaze, wet with tears, fixed on the crooked elevator doors down the hall. She was nearly there. A stone’s throw away. Nearly to the end of this horrendous nightmare. “We’re going to get out of this stupid game together, no matter how long it takes us! We’ll find each other in the real world, no matter how far we have to travel, because…” Pomni shakily swallowed, “Because I love you, Ragatha, more than anything else in this stupid world!”

Ragatha smiled, despite her demise. “Sunshine…?” she breathed. The creaking of floorboards beneath Pomni’s feet — and a distant, monstrous groan down the hall — filled the pregnant pause before the dolly found the strength to speak again, “Humor me for a moment?”

Pomni’s brows squinched together. Humor her? What was Ragatha talking about? “H-Huh?”

“Do you…do you still remember the color of your eyes…?”

Pomni flinched. Ragatha’s question wasn’t unusual — but decidedly out-of-the-blue. Her eyes. What color were her eyes? The gut response of ‘I don’t know’ or ‘why do you ask’ waited impatiently on the tip of her tongue, and yet, Pomni knew in her heart that that wouldn’t do.

“I, um—” Pomni hemmed and hawed. Ragatha stared back with a patient, yet expectant look. “Well…”

It had been ages since Pomni had given herself more than a passing glance in the mirror, let alone looked at herself long enough to notice such a trivial detail. She could barely even recall the last time anyone had brought it up.

She chewed on the thought a little while longer before finally spitting it out: “J-Just brown. I think,” she mumbled, squinting at her destination. She was close enough now to make out the distinct “C&A” etched in cursive script above the elevator door, “Nothing too special.”

“Brown? No kidding?” Ragatha swooned, fading eyes flashing brighter “That’s just what I hoped you’d say…”

“Really…?”

“Brown is such a charming color. Copper pans, autumn leaves, coffee beans…” Ragatha cooed, donning a peaceful smile even as strands of black death stretched across her mouth, “...I can almost see your brown eyes now — and goodness gracious, they’re just so beautiful…”

“R-Ragatha?” Pomni gasped, looking on in horror as Ragatha’s face was buried beneath a toxic expanse of black and neon. “Ragatha! Don’t go, please — we’re here! Look! We made it!”

Skidding to a halt before the elevator, Pomni rammed her heel into the ‘open door’ button more times than she cared to count. A metallic shriek answered her call as the smashed-up doors creaked open a moment later.

As soon as there was enough space to squeeze through — and not a moment sooner — Pomni charged inside, spun on a dime, and bolted to the control panel.

Pomni slammed her foot into the first button unlucky enough to catch her eye. She held back a sigh of relief as the button, marked with the number ‘3’, yielded to the pressure of her aching sole. She didn’t care where the old contraption took her, as long as it was far, far away from here.

Whirring gears and rusted cables belted an ominous tune as the crooked doors limped back toward one another. Through the slowly-shrinking space in between, Pomni could see into the dark corridor, where the silhouette of her hundred-legged pursuer stirred to life, casting off the last remnants of the fallen chandelier.

Sluggishly, the centipede rose to its feet. Then, the floor rumbled beneath a hundred insectine legs as the beast charged ahead like a raging bull, Ragatha’s lost arm still clutched firmly in its mouth.

Pomni swallowed hard, staring daggers. A blizzard of anxiety speared through her chest, but a mindful breath reminded her that there was absolutely nothing to worry about. She’d already won. Any second now, the doors would meet in the middle, the car would descend, and—

With an ear-shattering pop, the elevator jolted to one side, sending Pomni and her ragdoll cargo tumbling into the corner between the wall and the floor.

“$#@%!” Pomni cursed, first checking on Ragatha, then righting herself. Heaving and huffing with one hand on her thumping heart, she rolled the dolly onto her back before flinging her gaze back toward the car’s double-doors.

She exhaled, her pupils doubling in size. The doors had stopped mid-closure, leaving a gaping, monster-sized space in between.

The distinct flavor of vomit pestered Pomni’s tongue as she scrambled to the control panel, fingering the ‘close door’ button again and again and againandagainandagainand—

“No…! No! COME ON!” Pomni screamed, dragging her un-corrupted hand down each column of worn, gold-trimmed buttons. The brittle plastic lit up with an off-yellow glow, flickering like dying Christmas tree lights…but looking pretty was all the old buttons were good for.

“No! NO! YOU PIECE OF #@$%!” Pomni shrieked with rage, punching the panel until her knuckles couldn’t take any more. A handful of pointed pops sounded from up above; golden sparks showered down from the ceiling.

Pomni’s wailing gaze wandered toward Ragatha, and at long last, the nervous little jester broke down; her shoulders curled over her chest, and shimmering tears carved parallel streams across her face.

She looked up. Up at the centipede. The passage of time seemed to lag as the horrid beast grew larger in her vision, as the oily musk of its greasy exoskeleton became ever more pungent, as the sound of insect legs scuttling against the ground grew like wild weeds in her ears.

A vise of terror, unyielding, chained her feet to the floor. Her body joined her mind’s rebellion — nothing would cooperate, nothing would move. Not in any way that mattered.

Shrinking pupils shivered in a swelling field of white. One million pestering voices hissed and cawed and whined and sniped, each with something new to say, but none of them truly heard.

Ragatha — abstracting. Centipede — getting closer. Her body — half corrupted, shrieking in pain. What to do? Should she even try? Her heart beat faster.

Ragatha — abstracting. Centipede — getting closer. Her body — half corrupted, shrieking in pain. What to do? Should she even try? Her heart was pounding.

Ragatha — abstracting. Centipede — getting closer. Her body — half corrupted, shrieking in pain. What to do?

What to do? What to do? What to do? Needles pierced her heart as the organ hammered faster, faster, faster than it ever had before, until the tension was just too much, and the organ felt ready to explode in a gory burst of cherry blood and burgundy flesh and—

— Thud.

The elevator lurched downward. With a gasp, Pomni caught herself. What just happened? What the hell was that!?

Pomni stared at the elevator doors, mouth ajar. Her eyes flicked down. A small ledge, about the height of a staircase step, now existed between the floor of the car and the hallway carpet. It looked like something she wasn’t meant to see. The golden trim and glossy wood paneling that dressed the elevator stopped exactly where the ledge began, giving way to gritty concrete overgrown with loose bundles of fraying wires.

It didn’t take long before what she was looking at clicked in her head.

The elevator shaft.

Tremulous breaths struggled out of Pomni’s chest as the jester stared wide-eyed at the approaching danger, then back down to that curious ledge. Up. Down. Up. Down. At that moment, she realized. She’d have to decide, right here and now, how this nightmare would end — with the bad ending, or the worse ending.

And so, she jumped.

She jumped, as hard as she possibly could.

Body trembling with terror, Pomni slammed her full weight into the elevator floor, pummeling the surface with every scrap of force her tiny little frame could muster. The antique car swung to and fro, rust-rashed hinges squeaking and groaning and squealing and whining away.

Something fizzled. Something popped. Sunset-colored sparks puffed out from the sconces, and all at once, the lights petered out. Darkness smothered the car, but the hallway was bright as day; Pomni could still see the century of chattering legs barreling toward her.

The beast was getting close. Close enough for Pomni to see the stitching on the severed arm in its mouth. Close enough to smell its earthy aroma fouling the air. Close enough to have already won. Time was running out. Time. Running out. Running out. Running out…!

Pomni grunted, bracing herself against the shockwaves rumbling beneath her aching feet. She jumped, ignoring the burning pain that climbed up her trembling legs, the vise of anxiety that pressed down, down, down, making every struggling breath shorter than the last, the pool of dread that formed in her stomach as she watched the centipede’s head slither through the elevator doors—

A punchy, resonant sound exploded above her. Pomni barely had enough time to toss an upward glance before everything within the car — the beast’s head included — plunged through the drooling maw of the elevator shaft.

A slimy crack could just barely be heard over Pomni’s screams as the centipede’s lifeless head, cleanly severed, hovered in zero gravity.

A murky cloud of debris spewed forth from the slain creature’s remains as it returned to the dust from whence it came. The powdery debris swirled around in the air, crystalizing into a new, more compressed shape: one half of a bronze brooch, set with a large, glittering emerald.

Pomni, of course, was none the wiser. Drowning in the darkness, she kicked her legs, but couldn’t feel the floor beneath her. Blood rushed into her head, and white dots twinkled across her vision.

“R-Ragatha…!” she struggled to say, reaching for the rash of twitching eyes curled in the corner of the car. A hesitant smile, dampened by dread, found its way to her face. “We did it, Ragatha…! We’re…”

Her eyelids drooped down. “...We’re going to be…”

Her neck fell limp, and the world went black.

---

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