#he's all alone again in an empty shell of a world | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mickyschumacher · 11 months

Note

style was so fucking good HOLY SHITTTTT can u please please please do a part 2 xx

𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after separating from carlos, you thought you would never ever have to see him again. but fate is demanding and it demands you bumping into him in a club. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), jealousy (bc where would we be without it), reader is younger than carlos but not like insanely, reader has vagina, angst, ferrari SLANDER, charles moves to redbull oop, GOOGLED SPANISH! I'M SORRY 😭, teasing, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap ur willies peeps!), oral sex, cumming inside, car sex = dangerous car driving, brief handjob, dry(?) humping, confession time AHHH, incorrect modelling stuff again lol, nicer!carlos ♡︎

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: complicated ex!carlos sainz x model!fem!reader, bestie!lily he x reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6k+ (whoops)

𝐀/𝐍: a lot of people wanted a part 2 so.... here it is! i hope this is up to your par with what you were thinking about ♡︎ has bit of a build up but the smut is there! decently proof read... i think? my eyes are vv tired from these exams :(

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

Three years.

A lot can happen in three years.

For you that meant with some crazy luck becoming the World's top supermodel. Kendall Jenner, Gigi and Bella Hadid, Emily Ratajkowski... whoever the top once was, you had put them all to shame. You were booked and busier than ever. You could've sworn you used to get your beauty sleep but now you were lucky if you could even get an hour let alone eight. The billboards and the magazines loved you and the public, god the public, they cherished you.

Never had the world needed a relatable, kind role model more and there you were. A diamond in the rough, waiting to be seen. You were even on your way of becoming an entrepreneur in sustainable fashion.

Everything was going your way.

It was a surprise for you. After Carlos, you thought you would be moping forever. And you did, at least for a few days. But when your manager and stylist advised you to release your pent up emotions, you thought the best way to do that was fully committing yourself to your work.

No more relationships. No hookups. No races. No Carlos.

And somehow, it worked. You were a single supermodel who won over the public. No races, no Carlos. You were bringing your company money.

But yet, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop thinking about Carlos. His smugness, the puppy brown eyes, his touch, the little signs that he cared; the softening of the side of his eyes when he looked at you before they were ridden with lust or his need to have some part of him touching you; his hand on your thigh, an arm around your waist, or soft circles rubbed on your inner wrist.

You missed him.

But that was three years ago.

You and Carlos didn't even run in the same circles anymore.

For Carlos, three years meant extending his contract with Ferrari, although God knows why, losing three chances at a championship, fighting with Adami over the radio far more than he liked, and losing Charles to Red Bull. All while feeling very empty. No one really recognised who Carlos was anymore. Not his family, not the drivers, and not the fans. Hell, he himself didn't know who he was.

Whoever Carlos was right now... it was the mere shell of who he used to be.

He was drinking far too much for an F1 driver celebrating other's podiums. And now he got angry. He didn't get angry, he seethed. He let himself feel vexed in order to get motivated. But now he was just angry and torn but not for no reason.

Carlos was an idiot. He had made an irrevocably stupid decision. Separating from you was the worse decision he had ever made. And that said something considering he had extended with the most infuriating F1 team of the past few years.

How could he have even made that decision? Normally, he thought things out. He was an F1 driver, for God's sake. Some sort of thought could be accounted for. But he didn't know what it was... maybe he was too emotional the night he was with you. Whatever it was, he should've thought it out.

God, Carlos should've realised that all he needed to do was put more effort it. You and him... it would've worked. He would've stopped hurting you. He would've been fully committed to you.

But no. He had fuck to it up.

To say Carlos hadn't been stalking your socials everyday was an understatement. Cumming to your name was a pre-race ritual that had now turned into checking what projects you were doing. Not to be dramatic, but to him, it felt like you were just keeping him alive, giving him a reason to live.

Carlos couldn't even muster the courage to call you and ask if you could talk. He didn't deserve that. Like he said, you deserved more. And all these fans and the fame and money... you deserved all of it and more. Staying away from you was the best thing he could do for you.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Carlos had made a terrible, terrible decision to attend the Miami after race party after saying he wouldn't. In fact, he couldn't. Not when he knew for a fact that you were in a club only down the street.

The temptation to see you was strong.

The club lights flared across the dance floor while the heat and humidity of all these dancing bodies clung to his warm skin. Carlos' hands shook silently at his side while Charles and Lando mixed in conversation. Every fibre of his body was telling his feet to stick to this floor. He couldn't see you. He was only going to ruin your night. He bit down on his lip, feeling a familiar ache in his chest.

But his heart... it was a strong heart. And it was telling him to take that five minute walk.

"I'm just going to get some fresh air," Carlos yelled over the music blaring in his ears. Charles and Lando gave the Spaniard a nod before returning to their conversation.

Carlos tried to make his walk to the club as long as possible, veering off to the side, staring far too long into the windows of other stores. But eventually, he stood in front of the thriving club.

You were celebrating having reached 50 Vogue covers, including the Big Four twice. You told your manager you were fine with having dinner at home but the refusal was immediate and came with the claim of you needing a break. So here you were, dressed in the most sparkly, skimpy, backless deep cleavage silver slip dress, dancing your ass off.

When Carlos entered the club, it was hard to miss you. How could he? You were the centre of attention, dancing around in your little dress that was fighting to cling to your body while everyone cheered you on.

He shouldn't of come. He knew it. Because now, he couldn't leave. No matter how much he knew that to leave was the right decision.

You, on the other hand, didn't notice Carlos so easily. You were having the time of your life, swaying your hips side-to-side as the beat coursed through your veins. Your skin was dotted with sweat while a handsome stranger had come up to you, clearly looking to hook up. And while you weren't looking to screw just anyone, you couldn't shy away from the little bit of grinding your body so desperately craved.

The euphoria wasn't as high as you had once felt but it was enough to keep you on your toes. Heat travelled through your stomach while your eyes closed and your head fell back as another man moved behind you. You were in a haze of pleasure that made your pussy ache.

God, maybe you were too desperate for some pleasure. Because why did it feel like Carlos' cologne had engulfed you? Why did the fire burning within you flare up even further all of a sudden?

Your eyes shot open and a gasp fell from your lips when you felt a familiar hand wrap around your waist.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at the man with wide eyes.

"Cariño," Carlos breathed out, hooded eyes peering down at you.

Your throat felt constricted. Your eyes watered with anger and shock.

"No," You said, pulling yourself away from him.

"No, no, no," You repeated while Carlos took a step towards you, hand reaching out to stop freaking you out.

"Y/N... I–" Carlos was cut short as you raced towards your table and picked up your purse and jacket, heading towards the exit doors of the club.

You could hear Carlos jog to catch up with you. Sighing, you put on your jacket, striding as far as you could in those stupidly beautiful heels you had worn. But you seemed to forget that he was an athlete at the end of the day.

"Y/N, please. Don't do this," Carlos begged, an inch away from you.

Your lips sunk into your bottom lip, ears attempting to block out the warm voice you had been craving for the past three years. Your heart was racing against your chest while your mind fell into disarray.

"Y/N," Carlos repeated, grabbing your arm gently.

You sucked in a sharp breath at his touch, feeling the hairs of your body stand straight. You turned and looked up at him with with reddened eyes, making him pause for a second.

"Three years, Carlos, three goddamn years... of nothing," You exasperated with the familiar words falling off your tongue all too easily.

"I know. I'm–"

"'... so sorry, cariño. I don't have any excuses.' Is that what you were going to say, Carlos?" You asked incredulously, arms folded as if they were going to protect you from all this sudden pain.

Carlos winced at your words, staring at you helplessly.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I was doing fine... and you... what the hell were you thinking, Carlos?"

A silence settled between the both of you as the cold night air raced to cool down your flushed cheeks. Carlos breathed deeply. "I-I... I missed you, cariño. That's what I was thinking. That what I have been thinking for the past three years. I miss you all the time."

You stared at Carlos silently, chewing down on your lip nervously. This was what you wanted. You had waited all this time to hear those very words fall from his lips. Yet all you could say was: "So? That doesn't change anything." The lie made you crumble on the inside but you continued to speak. "You said it yourself, Carlos, we aren't good for each other. That I... deserve more."

"And you do!" Carlos spluttered, hands flailing about. "You deserve more than a better man, Y/N. You deserve the fucking universe. But I was wrong! I was wrong to say that we aren't good together. We can be good together. I think you complete me and if you let me even have the chance, I would be the luckiest man ever to be with you."

Carlos' hands were now gently holding your face, thumb gently brushing your heated skin. Your heart was now pounding in your eardrums. Your throat was caught. You felt impossibly warm. Your eyes burned, but no tears came out. "I... I gave you so many chances," You whispered.

Carlos' eyes softened at your broken voice as a sorry expression fell over his face. "I know," He sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't think I can ever forgive myself, cariño. But if I have to spend forever trying to make it up to you, I gladly will."

"Carlos," You sighed, closing your eyes. You were annoyed with yourself. Annoyed at the fact you were leaning into his touch and annoyed at the familiar heartache that always let him get away with what he wanted. "I'm terrified. I don't want to hurt again. I don't want to hurt you either."

Carlos felt his heart clench, jaw taut with irritation. Every fibre of him hated that you even had to say that. But you were right. You always were. He whispered softly, letting his forehead meet yours, "You won't. I promise. I promise to be a better man. Just please give me a chance... give us a chance."

You opened your eyes to see those desperate puppy eyes boring into yours. You brought your hand to the one holding on your face, rubbing it gently. You knew your answer the moment he asked. "Okay," You responded with a small smile.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Initially, it was hard to get as comfortable as you once were with Carlos. You took every step with caution and he could tell by the scrunch of your nose and the chewing of you lip when you pondered for a moment too long. It was eating at him but there was nothing he could do but fufill his promise to you.

Carlos took you out on several dates as opposed to the few he previously taken you on. They weren't grand. No. Instead they were intimate. Dates that showed he was putting effort in. Like the time he decided to have a dinner date at his house where all the food was prepared by him. It was disastrous to say the least but you were also convinced he had gotten his sisters to help him out given that there was burnt food in the trash and it's aroma covered by candles and perfume in the air.

A sunset picnic followed after that. It was one of your favourites. The sun was setting, of course, and the warm breeze brushed past you while you ended up reading one of your favourite childhood books to Carlos. He listened intently as his hands roamed your skin. It wasn't necessarily sensual but it was intimate. Like all he wanted to do was just bathe in your presence. And bathe Carlos did as he began to ask you questions about your childhood and your family.

It bugged him that despite being with you for some time, he knew nothing about you. At least not really. Knowing your body reactions felt superficial in comparison to finding out you had a family pet that you cherished so much, your financial hardships, or that your parents disapproved of your modelling. That really hurt him. You didn't have anyone close to you. And he had just left you.

Carlos mentioned to you how much of a polla he truly was, apologising for all you had gone through. And while you laughed at his comment, you thanked him, hesitantly pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

Carlos gazed at you as his heart throbbed at your action. He stared at you with a twinkle in his eyes. There was something about this moment... he wasn't quite sure whether it was the setting sun that made you glow or that breeze that made your hair gently fly while your perfume consumed him, but it made him nervous and happy.

Carlos smiled at your raised brows. "You're just so beautiful, cariño."

You sucked in a sharp breath. That look in his eyes... it was the same one you gave him when you were just mesmerised by his beauty. And now he looked at you the same way.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Three months had passed and you had finally stepped into the paddock after what had felt like forever. Everyone was psyched that you were back here. Fans were screaming your name and the drivers had finally seen the reason behind the sudden change in Carlos.

"So... you and Y/N?" Lando queried carefully, watching you talk to Lily and Alex about all the things the both of you had missed.

Carlos peered over to you, catching your passing eyes. His heart skipped a beat at your little wave and smiling eyes. He grinned at you and waved back.

Lando watched the exchange with curious eyes, pulling a feigned pained expression. "Yeah... you and Y/N."

Carlos rolled his eyes at the man who had become one of his closest friends. "Yes, Lando, we're together. We've... we've been taking it slow. So I don't fuck it up."

Lando smiled at Carlos' words. He slapped his hand on the Spaniard's shoulder. "Good," He chirped, before dropping his smile. "You better not. That's basically my best friend right there. You hurt her, you better keep an eye out for Lily and I, and Alex by association."

Carlos chuckled. "Imagine if Fewtrell heard that."

"What Max doesn't know won't hurt him," Lando shrugged.

Carlos smiled in amusement, finding you walking towards him with the previously mentioned couple. "What are you two trying to get my lovely lady to do?" He asked with narrowed eyes when you appeared with a suspiciously wide smile. A beautiful smile, but suspicious nonetheless.

You flushed at his words, taking in a deep breath. "I may have been convinced to do a bit of... ugh, golf."

Golf. Your most dreaded sport. From the moment you knew what it was, you could not think of a more boring sport to save your life. No offence to Lily, but it was an old man's sport. And every F1 driver playing it did not help. But Lily being the amazing girl she was had changed your mind.

Lando cheered and Carlos' eyes widened slightly. "How did you manage to convince her? Even I couldn't get her to join me. Me out of all people."

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics. "I think your win from me golfing is a little different from Lily's. Lily wants me to learn."

"Yeah? And what do I want that is so different?" Carlos asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to me.

You stood on your toes a bit, reaching his ear. "Quieres verme con esa diminuta ropa de golf," You whispered in Spanish, pulling away from his ear. "Esa es la diferencia." You want to see me in those teeny little golf clothes. That's the difference.

You felt a familiar tingle creep up your spine as you met Carlos' darkened eyes and tightened grip on your waist. His tongue darted out, swiping his bottom lip while he eyed you carefully. You were a vixen. A final smug smile rested on his face. "You're right, cariño. That's exactly what I want."

Lily looked at you two blankly. "Anyone catch that?" She asked Alex and Lando, who both shook their heads. She sighed, "Leave it to us to not know one of the most popular languages in the world. See you tomorrow, lovebirds. Try keep your hands off each other, there's kids."

Lando gaped at Lily's side glance towards him. "Well I never!"

Carlos grinned at Lando's words, keeping an eye on you. "I'll try."

You drew a sharp breath. What kind of mess had you exactly set up for yourself?

━━━━━━━━━━━

To be honest, Carlos wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting when you had told him that your manager had sorted out a golf outfit since it was not like you were playing an official tournament. But when you arrived to meet Carlos, Lando, Lily, and Alex at the golf course, Carlos let out the most strained sigh he had ever released.

You were a model, sorry, a supermodel, you looked good in everything already. But you dressed up for his favourite pass time was killing him.

You stood in front of him in the sun visor that hid your long hair, wearing the absolute tightest sleeveless polo shirt known to mankind tucked into small little pink skirt that rested at the middle of your thighs.

God, you were leaving very little for Carlos to imagine. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do to you first: 'accidentally' splash that white shirt with water because he just knew by those nipples that you weren't wearing a bra or excuse the both of you to the bathroom where he could bend you over and fuck you senselessly.

Lily let out a low whistle when she saw you. "Y/N, the woman you are..." She clicked her tongue while shaking her head.

You laughed lightly as Alex look at her incredulously. "I'm right here, you know."

"Alex, are you a woman named Y/N?" Lily asked genuinely.

"I– no," Alex stuttered with furrowed brows while Lando grinned.

"That’s what I thought!" Lilly gave a smug smile, pressing a kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek before linking her arm with yours.

Alex stood with Carlos, blinking blankly at your retreating figures. “I don’t get it,” Alex told the Spaniard.

Lando chuckled while Carlos placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “You don’t need to. It’s Y/N. Now come on. From what I know, you have a lot to learn from Lily.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Carlos was already bracing himself for whatever antics you were going to put up. He was expecting your full on ass up against him, teasing him to the point where he did end up taking you in the bathroom.

But you had decided to go the hard way.

When Carlos was teaching you how to hit the ball and what angle to use the golf club, he severely used the opportunity to put his hands on your hips. He thought you were going to fall back into his chest and press up on him. But instead you decided to listen to his instructions all so intently.

Then he saw it.

Your tongue darting out past those perfect lips of yours, wetting all those crevices with a natural sheen before you sunk your teeth to concentrate on hitting the ball.

And after he had seen it, Carlos couldn’t see anything else normally. Or he would argue that you wouldn’t let him.

No way was the slip of the golf ball accidental. Not when he watched you slowly bend down to get it, revealing your delicious cleavage in the so very unfortunate cut of your polo. Not when he watched your pink skirt cling to your thighs tightly as your lips jutted out to blow away the dirt from the ball.

It was a golf ball, for God’s sake. Of course it was going to have dirt on it.

And as you stood up, you turned so your ass faced him, skirt hugging your ass tight enough so he could see a sliver of your bare pussy.

Carlos could swear that he had never clutched a golf club as hard as he had in his life.

To make matters worse, all you did was strut away with a smirk while you shamelessly checked him out all throughout the games, leaving him with a semi-hard he tried his best to hide behind the thin handle of the club.

You were torturing him without even touching him. And he hated it.

Carlos couldn’t even excuse himself nor you to the bathroom after you purposefully decide to cling to Lily, who was suggesting different methods to play.

The dreadful day had finally come to an end as everyone began to feel the kick of playing golf for so long. You and Carlos bid goodbye to Lily, Alex, and Lando, after your boyfriend definitely did not inform you that you were going back home with him instead of your manager.

After packing your things away in Carlos’ red Ferrari, you happily took a seat in the front, letting out a small yawn as you stretched your arms.

Carlos quietly eyed you as he reversed out of the parking lot. “Tired?” He asked.

You nodded with slightly heavy eyelids. “It takes a lot of energy.”

“I agree,” Carlos nodded. “Teasing takes a lot of energy, hmm?”

Your eyes were fully awake now. You peered at the side of Carlos’ face. His jaw was taut and hands tightly gripped the wheel. You tried to hide your teetering smile but it was difficult. You just loved riling up Carlos. Especially sexually.

“A lot,” You agreed, also nodding before you moved your eyes out your window to prevent you from fully grinning.

Carlos internally sighed. You were a menace.

As he drove to his hotel, an idea popped into Carlos’ head. He knew the way to hotel and golf course like the back of his hand. He also knew that in two left turns, there was the most sketchy but quiet road in town.

Carlos pushed down the indicator, watching the left arrow blink rapidly at him while he turned the wheel. He could see your head turn to him in curiosity.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

Carlos smiled softly, shaking his head as if it was nothing while taking the last left turn.

You raised a brow. You feigned a gasp. “Is this where you kill me? Is this how I die? On some road in Miami?”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Yes. How did you know?” He deadpanned.

Carlos parked the car in between some trees, ensuring that all the windows were fairly covered because no matter what, at the end of the day, he cared for both for your images.

Carlos turned to find your eyes already on him, waiting for an explanation. “You know the last time we met in Miami?”

You blinked blankly at him. “How could I forget?” You retorted sarcastically, covering up any last few traces of pain associated with that trip.

Carlos pursed his lips, smiling apologetically. He took your hands into his, rubbing them gently. “Well, when we were in the car, I had this vision—well I always have this vision but it was strong then, anyways—I had this vision of fucking you in this car, on the highway, ass on the wheel, making a mess on me, and making you cum so hard that you cover that Ferrari logo.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, eyes dilated in pleasure. Suddenly you felt tingly all over your body and a strong heat pulsating in between your thighs. You pressed your thighs together at the thought.

“So I thought,” Carlos confused, smirking at your action, “although you’ve been a tease, I would still like to fuck the life out of you, cariño. Isn’t that so nice of me?” He asked as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You wish you had the urge to roll your eyes. You really wish you did. But your breath was caught in your throat and you just felt a dribble of arousal leak past your aching core.

Instead you moved over to Carlos, putting a leg on either side of him and brought your lips to his.

Carlos immediately responded, hands flying towards your hips, gripping on your skin while he intensely kissed you back. He kissed you not just as a starved man, but a parched man. As if your lips were water and all he could do was drink you.

Your stomach churned with a familiar fire of pleasure. Your skin raised with goosebumps as Carlos’ thumbs circled your skin through the fairly thin fabric of your polo. A muffled moan was lodged in your throat the sound of Carlos’ grunts.

Carlos’ hands moved from your hips to the hem of your skirt. His hands dipped under the pink material that had been enticing him all day, feeling the ample flesh of your bare ass. An audible moan came from his throat as you had moved your lips to his neck to stop drinking those beautiful sounds.

“You’re such a tease, you know that? No fucking underwear so I could see those juicy lips of yours? Were you just waiting for me to take you from behind? What if Lando saw? Hmm?” Carlos queried, groping your ass while his fiery puppy browns pierced into your eyes.

You let out a small whine against his heated neck, bucking your hips against his cock.

“You like that, cariño? The idea of getting caught?” Carlos asked even though he clearly knew the answer if he looked down at the dark stain beginning to form on the front of your skirt.

Carlos smiled softly at your impatient eyes, pressed your hips onto his groin. “Grind on me, cariño. Make a mess on me,” He whispered, taking your lips with his once again.

You moaned as you rocked your hips back and forth in his bulge. The wave of arousal you craved slowly creeped up on you. The hard textured material of his shirt felt like a sin against your pussy. Carlos’ hands helping you keep your pace and making sure you felt every part of hard-on set you on fire.

Smoothly, Carlos used one of his hands to sneak up your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers leaving you in a blaze as he grazed your skin. “That’s it, cariño, that’s it,” He murmured against your lips. His fingers confused past the apex of your thigh, nearing your burning core.

Fuck, were you turned on. The heat radiating off your pussy was dangerous. His thumb edged towards your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves ever so slowly.

“Shit,” you swore, arching your back against the steering wheel. Your pussy ground up against his fingers while trying to press further on his cock; entertaining both levels of pleasure.

Carlos felt his cock tighten painfully against his hands when he moved his eyes from you and down to where your pussy met him. God, you had made a mess. His eyes flickered back up, watching you obscenely cover the Prancing Horse. “Merde,” He cussed.

This was how he wanted you. Fuck. Making a claim on everything that belonged to him with your body. Just the way he wanted.

You could feel Carlos dip his head forward, giving a long lick to your right nipple. You were sure your white polo was now see through, letting your pebbled mounds become available for Carlos’ disposal. You moaned, feeling your pussy become sticky with pleasure as Carlos pulled down the cut of your polo, freeing your breasts from those teasing confines, watching them bounce in admiration before he wrapped his lips around your nipple.

You arched your back even further, pushing your breast into his mouth while the other hand resting on your hip moved to fondle your lonely nipple, leaving you to do the rest of the work. "Carlos," You cried out breathlessly, speeding the pace of your hips as a familiar coil began to unwind at the pit of your stomach.

Carlos knew that tone better than he knew his circuits. Unlatching his swollen lips from your nipple, he looked up at you, making you moan even further. It was hard to disagree that Carlos was a good looking man, but right now, you were seeing him like no other: puffy lips, sweat-ridden tousled brown hair, cheeks freckled with pinks and reds, dark lust-hazed eyes... all for you.

"Don't cum just yet, cariño. I need to be inside you," Carlos panted, his tongue swiping his lips drenched.

You shuddered at the action before looking at him in dismay. "Carlos. Papi, no. Por favor." Please.

Just when Carlos thought his cock couldn't harden any further, you had proven the impossible. He held your chin in his hand, forcing you to hold his gaze. "Don't do that, cariño. Don't papi me. I'm already being so nice, hmm? Be a good girl and listen to be, okay baby?"

You sighed in frustration but you hips eased it's speed, succumbing to Carlos without a second thought.

Carlos pressed a kiss to the side of your head, continuing to rub your clit excruciatingly slow. "That's my girl," He praised, pressing you right against the steering wheel as he lifted his hips up.

Naturally your hands fell to his shorts, eagerly pushing down the pair of clothing as far as you could in this space. Your mouth salivated at the large bulge in his grey boxers. It was like his cock was greeting you; aching to me to you. In awe, you put your hand over his hard cock, softly brushing over the pulsating bulge.

"Fuck," Carlos sighed, eyes closed, feeling like he was on an obscene high already. He felt you gently trace over his thick cock, going even slower when you reached his tip, painstakingly grazing his slit through his boxers. He shot out his hand, holding yours in place.

Carlos swallowed all the saliva that he had gathered after seeing your wide, almost innocent, eyes beaming at him while a sickly sweet smile sprawled across your face. Jesus. How did he ever let you go? Now that he had you, he most certainly couldn't.

You grinned, knowing exactly how to awake the monster within him. You pushed down his boxers, letting him fully settle into the seat of the Ferrari and his cock stand against his toned stomach with a shade that almost made it look like it was angry with you for taking this long.

Gathering all the saliva in your mouth, you let the hot clear fluid slowly fall from your lips and onto his cock. Carlos sighed at the feeling, thumb reaching out to gather the last few drops from your lips before you brought it into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the pad of his thumb, giving him a pre-show before you released him.

Carlos watched as you bent down towards his cock, using your hand to rub your saliva down his throbbing cock. You could feel him pulsing in your hands, dying to be inside you. You lifted yourself back up, signalling Carlos you were ready.

Carlos' hands skated up your skirt, grabbing your bare hips as he guided you over his cock. All this time he had been teasing you as awfully as you had teased him today, so when you felt his cock against your wet folds, you let out a gasp while you hips bucked against involuntarily.

"Jesus fucking Christ," You swore, shuddering at the intoxicating high swarming through your body.

Carlos' cock throbbed against your pussy. He loved your sensitivity, so he pushed himself through your folds again, tip rubbing against your stimulated clit. He grunted against you. He could watch your body defy you over and over again.

But as much as he loved it, Carlos had been waiting to be in you liked a starved man.

Carlos' eyes flittered up to yours while he slowly pushed his cock into you. He memorised you carefully. Every twitch, every quiver. Your parter lips, the frequency of your moan. The contortion of your eyebrows while pleasure laced your eyes. He could remember you like this forever; his beautiful girl.

"Carlos," You panted, "more, please."

"Your wish is my command, princesa," Carlos whispered against your skin, pushing his hips further into you. His hands tightened around your waist, the warm grip of your folds pulling him in like a drug.

You knew it then and you knew it know. Carols had bewitched you. You would never be able to get enough of this feeling. The feeling of his cock jerking into your pussy because he just can't control himself. Nor the feeling of sucking him in like a vice because you want him all to yourself.

Carlos moaned, thrusting his aching cock while he muttered obscenities as if he was under some sort of spell. For what it was worth, he was. Every day, you entranced him. But right now, the sight of you against the Prancing Horse that was waiting to be covered in your cum... your saliva-covered breasts bouncing, your arched back against the wheel... it was driving him crazy. You were driving him crazy.

Your hands travelled to his hair, lips grazing past the bridge of his nose while you groaned. Your fingers wrapped his dishevelled brown waves around them, giving his locks a slight tug that coursed down his body.

Your hips ground against Carlos harshly, attempting to take any extra sliver of euphoria. His cock drove in and out of you at a rate that left no innocence in this car. It was lewd; the slapping of your sticky skin against one another, your breathless pants mingling together, and the fogged windows occurring from your feverish skin. Fuck, the both of you were in overdrive.

You let out a small whimper when you felt your body start to shake. You looked down at Carlos, who was peppering your bare shoulder with long sloppy kisses as he continued to thrust. Your eyes softened and the coil in your stomach began to tighten. "Carlos, I–"

Carlos smiled at the urgency in your voice. He began to pick up his pace, let out a few breathless pants. "Cum for me, mi amor."

You shook your head. "No, fuck, fuck, I–" You closed your eyes at the nearing high but forced them to open again, finding those puppy browns staring you down with confusion and maybe, just maybe, a bit of trauma from the last time. But you just had to say it. "I love you, Carlos. I love you so fucking much, mi amor. And I'll love you forever," You sobbed out.

Carlos gazed at you with wide eyes, his pace faltering slightly. As much as it turned him on, his heart was probably ten times happier. He felt warm; complete. He softened his gaze, bringing one hand to your cheek. His heart swelled at your natural lean in. Brushing his thumb gently, "I love you so much, Y/N. So much. And I'll never forget to remind you until my very last breath. You're my entire universe, querida (darling)."

Your eyes watered with a sickening amount of love as your body was hit with wave after wave. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," You cursed, clenching your eyes, a few tears slowly falling. Your hips bucked up against him, reaching for the high as Carlos rubbed your clit in fast circles.

"That's it, mi amor. Cum for me. Cover the the entire fucking wheel. Make a mess," Carlos encouraged, pushing you against the wheel, making your body convulse even further at the new texture.

"Fuck!" You swore, pussy throbbing and hips involuntarily jerking, reaching your climax.

Carlos groaned at the tight clench around his cock.

"Cum for me, Carlos. Look at the mess I made. All because of you. All for you," You coaxed, riding your sensitive pussy over him slowly.

His eyes flickered to the black Prancing Horse covered in your arousal; each little crevice of the wheel soaking up your cum. God, the monster you made him... He grunted, speeding up his pace as the coil in his stomach began to unwind quickly.

"Fuck, fuck," Carlos moaned loudly, holding you tightly to him. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," He muttered like a mantra, hips stuttering against you. He twitched inside you, feeling the hot salty strings of his cum spill into you.

"Oh, fuck," He sighed again, head falling on your chest while you moaned at the feeling of his cum inside you, clenching just one more time. His cock throbbed with another small high, pumping the last few ropes of his cum into you.

You let out a slow exhale, lifting Carlos' head by tilting his chin to face you. You rubbed his face gently, leaving a trail of kisses on his face as you both calmed down. You eyed the fogged windows and turned to see the Prancing Horse that had started this whole thing in the first place. You laughed softly.

"Well that was a stylish vision you had there," You remarked with a grin.

Carlos grinned right back at you. "Oh, cariño, we are doing that at least once every week."

"Oh, really?" You teased, putting your hands around his neck. "Well this type of car sex is definitely my style," You agreed after some feigned thinking.

Carlos smiled, tucking your sweaty hair behind your ears. He placed a long kiss on your lips. "It's our style."

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 smut #f1 imagine #mickyschumacher #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz imagine #formula 1

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gojo-mochi · 7 months

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MDNI! Dark Themes. Dubcon/Yandere/Kidnapping/Drugging? (it catnip)

HybridKitty!Reader who was a stray but a happy stray roaming around the streets, catching fish from the river, and lazing around in the sun. But, suddenly, they get adopted (kidnap) by this strange man. He takes you in his house, forces a collar on you, telling you that it was much safer in his house than the outside world. You try to tell him that you been surviving just fine without him, that the outside was your home and you liked your freedom. He just coos at you and tries to ruffle your hair, treating you like a child.

You hiss and claw at his hand and while he winces back he doesn't hurt you back. Just looks at you sadly and tries again in a couple of hours. The days passes like this for a while, he leaves food outside of the small closet you took up space in. Feeling that it was safer in there, then the room and bed he made for you, you wouldn't eat it for a while at first. But the smell got too tantalizing, the stranger would handcook meals for you and they always smell so good.

Slowly but surely you were coming out of your skittish shell, hanging around the kitchen watching him cook once, but promptly leaving once he tried to pet you once again. However, after you finished your meal today, he asked you if you wanted dessert. This was the first time you heard this so you were curious enough to stay out of your hiding place to see what he had to offer.

He brings out a small bottle, sprinkling some leafy stuff on the palm of his hand and stretching it out to you. Telling you to take a sniff of it. The smell was nothing you ever smelt before, it was addicting to say the least. Even more once you actually got closer to his hand, though when your own hand stretch out to grab some of it, he pulled back, closing his palm into a fist and sealing away the treat.

Your ears flatten back on your head and a needy whine emerge from your throat, wondering why he would deny you the dessert if he was offering it in the first place. He waggles a finger at you, softly smiling, his eyes darken over just a bit. "If you want this treat, you gotta eat it from my hand, ok?" He reach out, palms open once more.

You shouldn't, you really shouldn't, all your heighten senses was telling you this was a bad idea but your sense of smell was overriding everything. The treat smelt too good to be left alone so you venture forward. Tentatively inching closer and closer, leaning your face down to take a good whiff of the treat and your mind was gone at that point.

Your rough textured tongue lap out at the treat, heavy purrs emits from your throat. As you kept on licking the treat out of the stranger's hand, not even noticing or caring that he was practically drooling at the sight, his thighs shaking a little, and his hand hovering over your head. Your small hands grabbed on to his wrist, pulling him closer as you try to get every single bit of the leafy treat, your tongue caressing the skin of this palm now.

He lets out a low moan at the feeling, putting his hand down on your head and finally touchy your cute fluffy ears, fingers rubbing the softness of it, making you purr out even more. You saw drunk people before back when you were a stray and you imagined this is what they must had felt like. On cloud nine and when the treat on his hand was emptied by your lips. The man stood up, hands traveling down your back and waist as he tells you that he'll give you more if you come sit on his lap and lick it off of him again.

How you could resist after just one taste? So, of course, you agreed, leaving behind the shelter of the closet and going into the bedroom. As the door clicks behind you, the last sense in your brain gave out a final warning to run. Too bad, because now the man was also addicted. Addicted to the feeling of your tongue on him and he wasn't about to let you go so easily.

After all, a good kitten gotta work for her treat~

#yandere x reader #softy spice #dark content warning #yandere konig #konig x reader #ghost x reader #zoro x reader #i love a soft zoro ok #gojo x reader #geto x reader #OMG geto would be so maniplative hnggg #₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ softy writes #softy write #just my thoughts #sanji x reader #this could totally be a yan sanjin too

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 7 months

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DAY SEVENTEEN: Clothed Sex w/ Daryl Dixon

a/n: Writing this actually made me giggle because the Dad + Husband!Daryl combo in me just jumped out, so you guys get a little sprinkle of that. Also, this is Commonwealth Daryl because he's so sexy and dilfy and fatherly and I don't write about him enough.

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

TAGLIST: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

When it came to the apocalypse, there was little to no time to be intimate. From going scavenging to protecting your people, the free time that you'd usually have was cut short. You found it funny that it was the end of the world with no dead lines or due dates, but you still had to see if you could fit sex into your schedule.

Now with Judith and RJ in you and Daryl's care, you were almost never alone. So, when opportunities to have grown up time presented itself, you all but jump at it.

"Hurry, D. We've only got twenty minutes before we have to get the kids from school." You said breathlessly, both palms balanced on the counter top of your Commonwealth apartment.

Daryl was behind you, tugging your pants and panties down your full hips hurriedly. You balanced yourself on your forearms, your back arched and presented for your husband. Daryl wasn't in any better shape really, his thick fingers working frantically at the zipper of his black jeans.

"I can pick 'em up — fuck." He swore as he entered you. "Can you please just focus on fucking me?" You all but growled. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry, sunshine." He apologized.

He held onto your hips, his hands keeping a firm grip on you as he pulled out, almost fully slipping out of you before slamming back in harshly. His thrust sent you forward with a loud moan, your breasts almost falling out of your v-neck top at the impact.

"Deeper." You whimpered in bliss. It had been so long since Daryl had fucked you, though the stretch was a bit painful due to the lack of foreplay, you welcomed the sensation that wasn't emptiness with open arms.

"Trying'ta feel me in yer stomach?" Despite asking you, he slammed into you harder, his tip prodding at your g-spot. A loud smack resounded throughout the open floor plan. "Ah!" You yelped, your hips shooting back on their own accord and your gummy walls clenched down on him.

"God— ya feel so good, beautiful." He groaned, his already raspy voice even deeper. "You sound so sexy, D." You whined. "Ya look even sexier." Leave it up to Daryl to turn the compliment back around on you.

He leaned over your body, kissing the free space between your shoulder blades. His scruff scratched and tickled your skin, but the sensation sent shivers down your spine.

"I — fuck… I think 'm gonna cum." You breathed, rotating your head back to be able to lean into his kisses. "'M gonna make you cum real good, sweetheart, alrigh'?" He promised, his warm breath hitting the shell of your year.

"Yes." Was all you can say through excitement at his promise.

He leaned up again so he could pound into you faster and harder, pulling you closer and closer to your end. The coil in your gut threatened to snap, but it wasn't enough. It was as if Daryl could read your mind, because he stopped for a moment to lift your left leg, bending it over the counter.

You all but shouted at the position change, fully spread open on his cock so that he could reach deeper inside of you.

"Fuck, D!" You cried out, nails clawing at the hard marble. "You gonna cum, sunshine?" He asked through gritted teeth. You could feel him pulsing inside of you, his grip on your hip and the back of your knee tight enough to leave bruises.

"Cum with me." You demanded through another cry. "I will, I will."

As he delivered a few more thrusts, your walls fluttered around him, sucking him into you to hold him there selfishly as you creamed all over his dick.

You felt him pull out of you quickly as you rode out your orgasm, the man ejaculating all over the back of your shirt.

"Now—" You said through your burning lungs, "I only have five minutes to change my shirt."

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober day seventeen #plus size reader #x plus size reader #plus size!reader #x chubby reader #chubby reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon kinktober #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x plus size reader #daryl dixon smut #smut #fanfiction #nsfmeau

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ponderingmoonlight · 8 months

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Shibuya Arc scenarios that live in my head rent free pt l

Getting sealed along with Gojo

Geto awakening by the sound of your voice

Word Count: 3,1k

Warnings: these hurt pretty bad; language

Getting sealed along with Gojo

It wasn’t the easiest task to get this far. The curtains of these fucking curses were not that easy to overcome, let alone unnoticed. But now you’re here. You finally made it to the train track where Satoru Gojo should be found. Satoru, your precious boyfriend of three years. Satoru, the jerk who left you alone at home without telling you a single damn word about Shibuya getting flooded by curses.

Your face is screwed up in nothing but anger while you scan the area for him. He has some fucking nerve. You’re a grade 1 sorcerer, very much needed in times like these. Who does he think he is to simply leave you in the unknown?

It isn’t hard to sense his immense powers. Without any effort, you smoothly glide over what looks like a crime scene. So many corpses of not only curses, but humans. What the hell happened here? And who did all of this?

Time seems to stand still when you finally catch a glimpse of him. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This isn’t really happening, right? Your souls seems to leave your body behind, empty shell staring at the scene in front of you.

“Oh, look who decided to join us on this lovely day! Nice to see you again, (y/n)!”

It’s Geto’s voice and his so painful familiar appearance. Salty tears start to sting your eyes, memories of your last encounter begin to flood your mind uncontrollably. As much as you wished this was true, this has to be a cruel joke, an optical illusion.

“What the hell are you doing here, (y/n)? Get out of this place right now”, Gojo yells at you with an aggression in his voice that you’ve never heard before.

You flinch for a second, too overwhelmed by the act in front of you. Why on earth is your boyfriend tied into place and who was even able to do so? What is this thing with Geto’s appearance? What the hell is going on here?

“Oh, don’t be a spoilsport, Satoru. Let (y/n) watch while I seal you. Too bad you won’t see here die then…Well, you can’t have everything at once I guess”, the shell of Geto comments.

“Sealed?”, you repeat incredulously.

Panic crawls through your veins, for a second you feel like fainting. You know all too well what that means. Getting sealed is another definition for getting killed. Even Satoru, the strongest of all…

What if he won’t make it? What if you’ll never see your boyfriend again? The sheer thought of being forced to live without him kills you from the inside and makes your former anger vanish in thin air. You’ve been through hell and back, grieved over Suguru when he died, fought battle over battle on each other’s side, taught the young ones with all your heart. But most importantly, you loved each other dearly every time your hearts beat, in good and bad times.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be back”, Gojo assures you, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“Do you know what getting sealed means, idiot?”, you cry out, tears now staining your face.

“She’s kinda right, Satoru…”

“It means we might never see again, it means you would’ve left me home alone knowing that this might be the last time you’re stepping through our door.”

The pain that is dripping from your voice is hard to bear for Satoru. He knows you have every right to be absolutely furious at him, that getting sealed is a challenge even for him he isn’t 100% sure about.

“But I couldn’t afford to live with the thought of losing you, (y/n)”, he replies, eyes locking with yours.

“I can’t let you go like that. It simply can’t end like this. I…I won’t let this happen!”, you scream on top of your lungs.

“As much as I enjoyed the show, it’s over now. Good night, Satoru Gojo. Let us meet again in the new world”, Geto speaks out.

Your mind races while the sealing begins to tighten itself around your boyfriend. What are you supposed to do? Are you able to stop it? No, absolutely not. If Satoru can’t stop himself from getting sealed, there is no chance that you can. Pictures of your precious shared moments, of his striking smile and his tight hugs linger through your mind. You can’t afford to lose him, a life without Satoru would be useless. You need to make a decision.

Satoru isn’t even able to react when you start sprinting towards him, vision clouded by pure determination. Just the split of a second before your limbs get cut off by the seal, you are able to press your body against his and get soaked up in the innocent dice along with him.

“(y/n)”, he breathes out.

Slowly but surely, he opens up his eyes. No, this can’t be true, this has to be a bad dream, right? You can’t be with him in this prison, not trapped for eternity. But the way your arms are tightly wrapped around him is proof enough for your presence. You are here. You’ve got sealed along with him.

“Why on earth did you do that?”

“I can’t be without you. I’d rather die by your side than live without you!”, you bawl, pressing yourself against his body as hard as you can.

“(y/n), why didn’t you do what I told you, why did you come to Shibuya in the first place? You shouldn’t be here, especially because you know what being sealed means. I…I don’t have a definite plan on how I’m getting out of here yet! Why did you have to hold onto me!?”, he insists, grabbing your face roughly and forcing you to look at him while the violent tone in his loud voice shatters your heart.

Your whole life was ahead of you. Sure, Satoru would have missed you every time his heart beats, but missing you doesn’t hurt as much as destroying your whole damn life. He would have never asked such a thing from you. Never. And even though he himself wants so spend his so desperately by your side, this surely isn’t what he wanted.

“Because I love you, Satoru!”, you scream out.

He breathes heavy, eyes completely lost in yours while you cry your heart out. Fuck, you shouldn’t be here, this didn’t go as planned at all. He knew about the risks, that this mission will cost countless lives and yours definitely shouldn’t be one of them. He’d rather die himself than taking your life away from you. But now you’re here, sealed along with him.

“I love you too, (y/n). That’s why I wanted to protect you. That’s why I wanted you to stay in our apartment”, he murmurs.

Satoru can’t hold it back any longer. Without thinking twice, he wraps his strong arms around you, holds you close against his chest, strokes your head gently just like you deserve it. This was dumb, this was reckless, this might cost you your life.

But you did it for him. You did it because your love for him is greater than your fear of dying. And that’s probably the biggest proof of love that exists.

“I’ll promise you we’ll make it out of here, okay?”

“That doesn’t matter to me. As long as you are here, I’m happy”, you reply without thinking twice.

He pulls you in for a passionate kiss. Maybe love is the most twisted curse of all, but you’ll make it out together, he just knows it.

Your sacrifice won't be useless.

Suguru awakening by the sound of your voice

You heard rumors in the underground for a while now – rumors about Geto Suguru suddenly being alive again. And even though you would give your very own life for that being true, you just know it can’t be possible. After all, you were there. Back then, when he died through the hands of fucking Satoru Gojo and his student.

You know you shouldn’t be here, that searching at Shibuya is dumb and reckless considering the fact that you’re not bonding with the other jujutsu sorcerers, but also definitely not with the curses that roam around this area either. It’s stupid, but you simply can’t help yourself.

The little spark of hope that the love of your life might still be around haunts you down the crowded streets of Shibuya. You never really had the time to say goodbye to Suguru. After all the things you’ve been through together, building an empire to get rid of all those monkeys, building your very own life together and growing on each other, you could only stare in disbelief at his dead body. So many years. So many years he stood by your side, lifted you up when you were down, cuddled you into sleep, treated you like the most precious treasure on earth.

Maybe he did make it somehow, though. Maybe it was his plan all this time that everyone around him thinks he’s dead. If you haven’t seen it with your very own eyes, you’ll simply refuse to give up the idea of him still walking on this earth.

You just want your Suguru back.

Your ears perk up when you hear his familiar voice and you can’t help but sign in annoyance. Of course Satoru Gojo has to be here, trying to save as many monkeys as possible. But where he is, there’s action. And where action is you’ll probably find Suguru.

With neckbreaking speed you run down the underground tracks, screams and cries of pain and grief ringing louder and louder. Shivers run down your spine before you can stop them, a scenery of absolute horror reveals itself in front of your eyes. Deformed and dead curses plastered on the floor along with a few corpses of humans here and there. You can tell by the look in their frightened eyes that they’ve seen some horrible things. Huh, you couldn’t care less though. After all, you’re only here for Suguru. You don’t give a damn about some monkeys.

“I don’t know who you are, but you’re not Suguru Geto!”

Your feet pick up their pace immediately, heart starting to hammer against your chest. That was Satoru. And he said his name. Is it really possible that your Suguru is here? Are rumors true after all? Until this moment, you never allowed yourself a single spark of excitement. But now that even Satoru said it you can’t help but grin from ear to ear, literally levitating into the direction of Satoru’s voice.

And then you hear it, loud and clearly. The sweet voice of your boyfriend, the love of your life. The voice you never imagined to ever hear again.

“Suguru?”, you cry out.

Time stands still when you catch a glimpse of him. Oh, he looks as handsome as ever, a wide grin plastered on his face while talking to Satoru. But something about his appearance makes your heart drop. You can sense that it’s his cursed technique, your eyes tell you clearly that this is Geto Suguru.

But your heart just knows this isn’t him.

“Is that really you, (y/n)?”, he questions when his brown eyes meet yours.

But they aren’t glimmering in excitement like they used to, his smile isn’t as wide as it was when you last saw him. No, everything inside of you screams in your face that it can’t be him, that this is the shell of the man you used to love. You want to break down and cry, to grieve losing the love of your life again.

But you swallow the lump in your throat away. Whoever this is needs to pay for using Geto’s legacy. And you’ll make sure he will.

“So it’s true, you really are still alive!”, you breathe out while running towards him.

Oh, you want nothing more than to die when he embraces you in a hug, his arms feeling just like they did back then. His smells tingles in your nose, reminds you of the countless nights you wore his shirts to bed and how you always sniffed on his clothing before washing it. You loved this man with every fiber of your being.

“Life itself, darling”, the voice of Suguru confirms, his hand stroking your hair just how you like it.

“This isn’t him, (y/n)! This is not your boyfriend!”, Gojo shouts in your direction, making you almost lose your cool.

You want to scream into his face, want to break down in tears. But instead, you burry your face in Suguru’s neck to stop yourself from crying.

“Shut up, Satoru. You’re ruining the moment.”

Whoever controls Suguru needs to truly believe that you’re on his side, that you are convinced he’s in fact Suguru. If that thing is able to control his body, it might as well be capable of using his cursed technique. And you know that you can’t stand a chance against him.

“I thought you were dead”, you hush, his hand gently lifts your head.

“But as you see, I’m clearly alive. I’m so sorry for not reaching out to you, my love. But this is a part of my plan. I couldn’t afford to get you involved into this mess”, he explains briefly, a warm smile playing around his lips while his eyes lock with yours.

“I’m so glad you’re back…”

“Did I tell you how much I love you already?”

“Go to bed darling, it’s way too late for you to be up.”

“Don’t worry my love, I’ll be back by your side as soon as I killed that boy. Have fun at the night parade.”

You blink away the tears that form in your eyes when memories begin to flood your mind over and over again. This has to end right here and now.

One last hug. You need to hug his body one final time. Just one sweet moment of pretending that Suguru is actually here, that you’re not talking with his empty shell.

“But you aren’t the man I loved.”

With a swift motion, you pull out your cursed gun and aim for his head, ready to shoot the man you love.

But you can’t.

Faster than you are able to react, he grabs your wrist so roughly that your gun falls deafeningly to the ground. Your heart sinks into your chest, sight clouded by thick anger and hot tears.

“Nice try. But I know you’re usually smarter than that, (y/n).”

“How dare you to use his body like that…I will make you pay for every damn minute that you defile him! Get out of his body!”, you scream on top of your lungs.

Over and over, you fight against his firm grip, try to escape his cruel laughter while his eyes seem to pierce right through you. But he’s too damn strong and you weren’t prepared for something like this.

Violently, he grabs you by the throat, feet floating in the air while it feels as if your windpipe is going to rip every minute. You can’t catch your breath. With every passing second, your body refuses to fight back, vision already starting to get blurry by the lack of oxygen and blood pumping through your veins.

Is this really how it ends? Are you really dying through the hands of your former lover? How pathetic, how bittersweet. At least you’ll be by his side when you meet again, with your Suguru.

“I always loved you, Suguru”, you cough out.

Suddenly, his firm grip loosens and before you can catch yourself, you fall to the ground, gasping for air like a fish on land. What the hell happened? Why did he let go? Through watery eyes, you stare at the scenery unfolding in front of you. Suguru’s hand is wrapped around is very own neck, strangling himself so violently that he gasps for air.

“How interesting, that never happened!”, Suguru’s voice announces.

And then he stretches out his other hand. Into your direction, as if he’s trying to lift you off the ground. Tears start to swell up your eyes all over again as you take it. His fingers gently intertwine with yours, just like they always used to.

“I love the way your hands fit in mine.”

“The whole world should know that you are mine, darling.”

“Suguru”, you whisper with trembling voice.

It’s him. It just has to be him, you can feel it. Tenderly, he caresses your thumb while you completely break down. Fuck, you miss him so much. You want nothing more than your Suguru back. Why? Why did he have to die? Why did you even hope that he might be back? What a cruel joke all of this is, ripping open your party healed wounds all over again.

“I want you back”, you cry out, making even Satoru swallow heavy.

His index finger shakes telling you no before his hand swallows yours one last time.

You know that you can’t stay here like this forever, that Suguru’s remaining won’t be able to fight back too long, so you make the decision that tears you apart.

With one last loving press of his hands, you let him go forever even though it shatters your heart. The man in front of you might have Suguru’s voice, appearance and memories, but this isn’t him. You have to accept that the love of your life is gone.

“If you really think you can control Suguru like that you have to be a little dumb. He’s way too strong to get overpowers by some parasite. I will come back. And I will kill you for what you did to him”, you hiss.

“I’ll be waiting for you, darling.”

Darling. Yes, you’ll always be Suguru’s darling. But that won’t stop you from ripping his body apart if you have to. At least know you know that he’ll always be by your side.

Always.

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sirenpearldust · 4 months

Text

Mating bond 2

Notes: grab some tissues

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word count: 738

Warnings: Angst

Pt1

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Azriel had consistently felt fatigued, but the last couple of days robbed him of any vitality.

His body and soul were broken.

A numbness and sense of lifelessness dominated his days.

His family immediately noticed his stark decline. He was a shell of himself, empty.

Morrigan and Cassian attempted to coax him into joining them at the pleasure hall. Rhys recognising his exhaustion, granted him a break, urging him to savor some well-deserved vacation time.

Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie extended multiple invitations to their tea time.

They questioned him why he had ceased to train them.

He would ignore everyone.

Immersing himself in work, he sought solace and attempted to drown out his troubles, striving to forget.

He empathised with Lucien’s despair, he felt guilty.

Despite the strained golden bond in his chest, he couldn’t ignore its presence.

Mates had always been a sensitive topic, a distant dream for him, out of reach.

Witnessing his brothers’ happiness with their mates fueled his jealousy.

In his own delusion, he entertained the idea of three sisters for three brothers, boldly proclaiming that the mother had made a mistake in pairing Elain with Lucien.

He wanted to defy fate until the day he’d met her.

On that heart-wrenching day, his shadows were nervous, radically erratic.

In an attempt to clear his mind, he strolled through a park in Velaris, where he spotted a woman playing with a cat.

As she turned, a sudden silence enveloped him, the world pausing, and his heartbeat turning erratic.

She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, radiating a glow akin to the Sun, utterly ethereal.

He wanted Feyre to paint her, to capture her on canvas, desiring to preserve her image. He longed to keep this moment eternally etched into his mind, and in his room - a cherished memory for him to love and appreciate.

His once erratic shadows now calmed, humming, and began gravitating towards her.

His Wings spread wide in a display for his female.

Azriel found himself rooted in place, overwhelmed by the immense power of the bond. Profound happiness and contentment settled in him as he realised he had finally found her.

Some shadows nudged him, urging him to move closer to her.

She casually swept her hair over her shoulder and he found himself captivated by her.

He observed her carefree and playful demeanour, playing with the cat.

The warmth of her laughter reached him as he drank it all in.

As she turned around and noticed him, her smile faltered and her eyes widened in horror.

Their souls connected, he felt the terror coursing through the bond, awakening, a primal instinct to protect her.

Shadows multiplied, assuming positions to eliminate any perceived threat, only to realise she was afraid of the singer.

Azriel froze.

“No,” she muttered.

“No! No! No! This can’t be,” she cried, sobbing loudly.

Tears fell as she screamed for him to leave her alone.

Shadows flew towards her, flinching at first, at the unfamiliar feeling on her being, she eventually let them comfort her.

They sang to her, soothing and wiping away her tears.

Azriel stood heartbroken, alone, no shadows in sight.

The pain he felt mirrored his childhood - rejection, loneliness and a sense of being unwanted.

He wondered whether she was rejecting him personally or simply harboured fear of Illyrians.

Tucking his wings tightly against his back, he approached her, his voice softened, “I’m not going to hurt you. You don’t have to be afraid.”

As he spoke, she calmed down and he slowly raised his hand, gently, cupping her cheek.

She leaned in, nuzzling into his hand, not disgusted by his scars. His wings enveloped her, providing the shield from the world.

For a fleeting moment he felt a sense of happiness, thinking they had made some progress. Maybe she just really was afraid of Illyrians, not him.

Rubbing her back, pressing her against him he felt content, fulfilled. He breathed her in, wiped her tears and kissed the crown of her head.

Closing his eyes, he sighed in relief, but then she pushed him away.

“ I can’t - I can’t accept this, I can’t accept this bond.”

His stomach turned. He felt desperate, his world crashed.

“What?”

“I have feelings for someone else.”

Taking a step back to avoid making her afraid, he felt a surge of possessiveness, a buried primal instinct awoke.

He asked, voice cold, “Who is he?”

Who dared to have her heart?

Who dared to take her from him?

She took panicked steps back, and before he could reach her, she winnowed away.

Taglist:

@sidthedollface2

#azriel angst #azriel x y/n #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar angst

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praisethegabs · 10 months

Text

UMBRELLA

pairing: leon kennedy x reader synopsis: he's your partner, and you both have one thing in common: finish the job. sadly, you weren't expecting a betrayal. warnings: smut, rough sex (yeah, those kinds of things), description of fights and injures, blood, and violence. MINORS, DNI! author's note: inspired by a edit i saw on tiktok (apparently it got deleted), and i needed to write something like that. word count: 5023k

you believe this is a game, and you might be right. but if you think you can play it better than me, think again.

The building was silent, dark, and cold.

You could see the Umbrella logo on the wall, but that place was abandoned for a very long time. There was furniture tossed around, blocking the way, armchairs, bookshelves, and a lot of dust, pieces of broken glass, and mold.

You couldn't tell exactly when that building was abandoned, but the marks made by the time indicated it had been years, and you knew that since the corporation's downfall, the aura of malevolence still clung to the abandoned structure like a ghostly presence. Probably was right before Raccoon City went to hell since the government blamed Umbrella Corporation for the disaster.

At least, you weren't in there alone.

They say he's America's finest agent, but for you, he's the finest agent in America. Everyone knows his name. Everyone calls him Agent Kennedy, but he likes it when you call him Leon. Just Leon.

He's been your partner for a very long time, and you both succeeded in a lot of missions together. To your superiors, no one is good as you two, which is why they always send you together. You dare to say is the chemistry between you two that always helps during these long missions, and you can deny it, you know you have feelings for him. Your guess is that he also knows it.

But there's only one thing that bothers you a little.

And this thing is the fact that you always feel like you don't know him completely. It's like Leon hides himself inside a shell, and no one can enter his private little world. No one knows a thing about him. His birth date? His favorite weather or his favorite drink? He's an enigma, and you hate him for that. He knows every aspect of your life, but you don't know about him, and this small thing makes you angry. Constantly.

At first, it bothered you knowing nothing about him, but now, after all these years together, you just don't care so much anymore. He's just your mysterious partner that you care about, despite the fact his unknown to you.

"This place is weird," you say to him, moving an armchair from your way, your flashlight indicating the right direction. "I mean, the Umbrella was so huge years ago and now... all that is left is dust and empty buildings"

"Perfect for a good trap, don't you think?" Leon lights you up with his flashlight, smirking at you.

"Yeah, it's pretty suspicious. I'm not sure that bioweapon is here, I mean, look at this place," you said, walking forward, reaching the door to enter the depths of the building.

"Are you afraid of the dark, sweetheart?" Leon teased you, getting closer so he can follow your pace. You can smell his cologne, the one you love so much.

But you couldn't give him an answer since you were too focused on your job to care about his jokes. And despite his jokes, even though he was there, you had a strange feeling in your chest, like something was wrong. All those years next to Leon, and you still had that strange feeling, and even after so many attempts to get rid of the feeling, you just made peace with it, giving up.

But then, you hear a loud noise coming from the inside of the building. The hall was dimly lit, and the air was thick with dust and an unsettling silence. Broken lab equipment and remnants of twisted experiments lay strewn across the floor, telling the haunting tale of the atrocities committed here in the past. As they ventured deeper, the tension grew thicker, and your grip on your pistol tightened.

"I have a bad feeling about this" you whisper, feeling your heart beating much faster inside your chest.

"Quoting Star Wars won't help" Leon muttered to you, but you knew he was just teasing you to make things better.

"Just shut up" you chuckle, following inside to search for any type of danger or any sign of the bioweapon.

As you both entered a large, dimly lit chamber, the sound of dripping water echoed eerily through the silence. The room was lined with rows of mysterious containment units, some of them still sealed shut, while others lay open and empty. You shone your flashlight on a nearby computer terminal, hoping to find any trace of the experiments that had taken place.

Leon came across a stack of faded documents, partially eaten by time and neglect. He picked one up, squinting to read the blacked-out text that remained. It hinted at bioengineering and viral research far beyond anything they had encountered before. Suddenly, a distant creak echoed through the chamber, and both of you instinctively turned your attention toward it. Your hearts raced as you exchanged glances, confirming that you were not alone. Whatever lay hidden within the darkness was now aware of your presence.

Carefully, you both advanced toward a concealed staircase, leading you underground to a maze of forgotten catacombs. The air grew colder, and a stale, damp smell pervaded the underground corridors. Illuminated by your flashlights, the walls revealed unsettling symbols and arcane diagrams, hinting at the occult experiments performed by the malevolent organization.

In the depths of the catacombs, you both stumbled upon an unexpected sight: a dimly lit laboratory that appeared to have been operational even after the corporation's apparent demise. Here, strange machines hummed faintly, and the green glow of biohazard containers cast an ominous aura on the scene.

"What the hell they were doing in here?" You glance at Leon, shocked by everything you both saw in there, although he didn't give you an answer.

The duo pressed onward, uncovering evidence of illegal human experimentation, genetic manipulation, and the development of bioweapons. The scale of Umbrella's atrocities was chilling, and the weight of responsibility to expose the truth bore heavily on your and Leon's shoulder. The moon could be seen from the windows, casting eerie shadows across the forgotten structure. Ivy and moss crept up the walls, nature reclaiming the once imposing fortress.

"Are you sure that bioweapon is here, Leon?" You asked, gripping your flashlight tightly.

"I know it's dangerous, but we need to find out what Umbrella was up to before they disappeared, and I'm sure our intel was right" Leon replied, his eyes scanning the place for any signs of trouble.

Together, you two pushed open the rusty metal doors, the hinges creaking like a haunting melody. Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of decay and dampness. Broken glass crunched beneath your boots as you stepped into the abandoned lobby inside the lab, the remnants of a once bustling corporate hub. Your flashlight danced across the faded company logo on the wall.

"It's hard to believe this place was once responsible for such horrors." You whisper, looking around the place, searching for shreds of evidence or new clues.

"Yeah," Leon agreed, "but there might be something left behind that could help us locate the bioweapon"

As you advanced, you two discovered a vast laboratory section, much bigger than the first one. Countless empty test tubes and shattered vials littered the floor, reminders of the sinister experiments that once took place there. Again, a faint humming sound resonated through the halls. Leon and you exchanged glances, your hearts pounding in unison. Following the sound, you found yourselves in front of a sealed door.

"This must be where the main research was conducted," Leon whispered, touching the sealed door to see if he could open it.

"Do you think there's still something here?" You nodded, your nerves on edge as you speak.

"There's only one way to find out," Leon replied, producing a keycard he had acquired during your investigations.

With a beep, the door unlocked, revealing a dimly lit room filled with computers and lab equipment. Dust motes danced in the light as you two stepped inside, and the soft hum of machinery surrounded them.

"Let's split up," Leon suggested, "We can cover more ground that way. But stay in contact."

You agreed, and you both started examining the room. Leon tapped on the keyboard of an old computer, hoping it would give you some clue as to Umbrella's operations. Meanwhile, you sifted through old files, your eyes widening at the horrific experiments documented within. As you searched, the unsettling feeling that you were not alone grew stronger. Leon could sense the presence of something sinister lurking in the shadows. He turned his flashlight towards a dark corner and froze. A faint glimmer of red eyes stared back at him.

"Leon!" Your voice came through the radio, filled with urgency. "I found something you need to see."

Reluctantly tearing his eyes away, Leon rushed over to your location. You had found a hidden compartment, inside of which lay a collection of files marked "Top Secret."

"These could blow the lid off everything," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of excitement and determination. "With this kind of file, our government can at least know exactly what Umbrella was doing all this time... and that's not all"

Leon raised an eyebrow, getting closer to you so he could see what you had in your hands. He was curious. You could feel his breath on your neck, which made your body shiver instantly. You always felt something going insane inside you every time he got closer like this. And you hated yourself for not hiding it better.

"What else did you find?" Leon asks you, and you noticed that suddenly, he seemed disturbed and worried.

"There's another file. This one enlists all the double agents working for Umbrella," you said, opening the said file to have a better look at it.

Leon took the file from your hands, having a look himself. He looked at all the pages like he was trying to find something very important. You noticed his hands were shaking, and he was breathing heavily. You never saw him react like that, and your sixth sense screamed in your head something was wrong.

"Leon, is everything alright? You seem disturbed" you ask him, feeling your heart beating faster inside your chest, and you were starting to get nervous.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I think we should go" he said, and his voice sounded dark as he closed the file and didn't return it to you.

"You can give me the file" Your voice sounded a little bit scared, but you tried your best to sound calm. Your hands, however, betrayed you.

"No, I can take it," Leon said, without looking at you and holding the file like it was his life in his hands. "Let's go"

But soon as he turned away from you, an instinct yelled at you, and without thinking twice, you took the file from him, standing away quickly. Leon turned to face you again, his eyes surprised and angry, trying to understand your insolence.

Leon Kennedy, the charismatic agent you had come to trust and rely on, stood before you. But there was something different about him now — his once warm gaze now seemed guarded, distant, and strangely calculating. You couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to his mission than he had let on.

"Please give me the file," Leon said, his voice steady but lacking the usual warmth.

"Why, Leon? What's going on?" you asked, your voice quivering with both fear and suspicion.

Leon stepped closer, his piercing eyes fixated on you, and you felt like a defenseless prey looking straight into your hunter.

"It's not what you think. This information is sensitive, and I can't risk it falling into the wrong hands," he said, getting closer as you tried to step back, keeping distance from him.

"Sensitive? What could be so sensitive that you can't trust me, your partner, with it?" You couldn't ignore the knot of doubt tightening in your stomach.

Your question seemed to agitate Leon, and for a moment, a flicker of frustration crossed his face. He took a deep breath, composing himself before speaking.

"It's not about trust, sweetheart. But this goes beyond our mission. Lives are at stake, and I can't let anything jeopardize that." Leon said firmly, his eyes locked on yours, analyzing every move you made.

You felt your heart sank. You had always admired Leon's dedication to his duty, but this seemed different. It was as if he was hiding something from you, something much darker than you could have ever imagined. You couldn't shake off the thought that Leon might not be the hero you had perceived him to be.

"Leon, we're a team. We face these dangers together," you implored, taking a step closer to him.

His eyes softened for a moment, but the resolve quickly returned. Your heart was beating so faster inside your chest that you were certain you would have it ripping your skin apart. You wanted to run, but you knew he would catch you.

"I know we are, but sometimes, in this line of work, there are things that one must carry alone. You don't need the burden of this knowledge." Leon said, his voice more cold and dark than before, his eyes scanning you and a slight smirk appearing on his lips. His words only fueled your suspicion further.

"Burden? Or the truth? I deserve to know, Leon. We both deserve to know what we're up against." You yelled at him, now completely scared.

Leon hesitated, torn between revealing more or maintaining the secrecy. You saw the battle within him, and that made you even more determined to uncover the truth, whatever it was. You remembered the countless times you both had saved each other's lives, trusting one another with your very existence.

"Leon, if you won't tell me the truth, then I'll find it myself," you declared, your voice unwavering as you took a step back, clutching the file tightly in your hand.

Suddenly, a loud crash from the hallway startled you both. Leon's eyes darted towards the door, and without another word, he lunged forward and snatched the file from your grasp.

"Leon, what's going on?" You demanded, your heart pounding faster, your hands shaking with fear.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I can't risk you getting involved any further." He hesitated for a moment, looking at you with a mix of remorse and determination.

Before you could react, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving you standing there, feeling betrayed and confused. Your mind raced, trying to process everything that had just happened. You couldn't shake off the feeling that something was deeply wrong. The doubts that had been lingering in the shadows now emerged with full force, and you knew that if you wanted to uncover the truth, you had to act fast. You went right after him, willing to take the truth out.

You took your knife out, and then, smoothly and quickly, you tripped his legs, which sent him crashing to the ground with a loud thud. You then leaped over him, holding the knife hard against his neck, the sharp blade gently tearing through his skin in a thin, shallow slash.

"I want the truth, Leon" you demanded again, pressing your knife deeper on his neck, using your knees to block his hands. "Or I swear to God, one of us won't see the sunlight"

"You're making things way more difficult than they should be" Leon replied, looking angry right before he switched places with you, leaving you under him. "We don't have to do this"

And unexpectedly, you hit him precisely, allowing yourself to be free from his grip. You stood up, grabbed your knife, and prepared to duel him.

"Then let's get clean. I won't let you go without telling me the truth" you said, noticing he also took his knife, you both in your positions, ready to fight.

"When I finish, remember that you chose this," he said, his voice more cold and dark as he prepared to fight with you.

Without another word, Leon and you lunged forward, knives glinting in the low light. The dance of blades began, the sound of steel clashing filling the room as you both tested each other's defenses and reflexes. Your movements were fluid, almost like a choreographed routine, but this was no ordinary dance – it was a deadly game of skill and strategy.

You struck first, your knife slicing through the air with precision. Leon deflected your attack with ease, stepping back to assess your next move. You came at him again, this time with a flurry of rapid strikes, but Leon parried each one, displaying his years of training and experience. Your connection was extraordinary. Your moves were perfectly timed, and it seemed as though you both could anticipate each other's intentions before you even made a move. It was a testament to the hours spent training together, forging a bond that transcended words.

The room echoed with the clashing of metal, and sweat began to bead on your brows. You were both pushing your limits, seeking to better yourselves and each other in this intense battle of skill and willpower. Your footwork was agile, and you utilized your speed to keep Leon on his toes. You feinted to the left and then lunged at his right side, but he was ready for you, sidestepping the attack and countering with a swift strike of his own. The tip of his knife grazed your shoulder, leaving a small, superficial cut.

You didn't flinch; instead, a determined glint flashed in your eyes. You intensified your efforts, your movements becoming more unpredictable and aggressive. Leon welcomed the challenge, his mind sharpened by the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Your breaths became audible, the rhythm of your heartbeats in sync with the dance you two performed.

A momentary distraction proved costly for Leon. As he glanced over your shoulder, you seized the opportunity, delivering a swift kick to his side, sending him stumbling backward. You capitalized on his momentary weakness, pressing the advantage and slashing your knife toward his exposed flank. Leon barely managed to twist away, but the blade still grazed his side, drawing a thin line of blood. The pain fuelled his determination, and he came back with renewed intensity. His strikes became more aggressive, forcing you to fall back and focus on your defense.

The clash of steel echoed through the night, a harmonious symphony of combat. You both moved with a fluidity that spoke of countless hours of practice, each moves an extension of your very being. But despite your efforts, neither seemed to gain the upper hand.

Time seemed to blur as you two fought, the minutes felt like seconds, and the seconds like an eternity. Both Leon and you were growing weary, the strain of the duel taking its toll. Sweat still dripped from your brows, and both of your breaths were labored, but neither was willing to yield. Then, in a moment of exhaustion, your concentration slipped ever so slightly. Leon seized the opportunity, redirecting your blade and disarming you with a swift, well-placed strike. Your knife flew from your hand, landing several feet away.

For a brief moment, the room fell silent, the only sound of the heavy panting of the combatants. Leon stood victorious, his knife pointed at you, who lowered your hands, breathing heavily but not willing to give up yet. A smile tugged at the corner of Leon's lips, a mix of relief and pride in his accomplishment.

"Well fought," he said, his voice slightly breathless, his eyes still locked on yours.

"Go ahead, kill me," you said to him, your eyes already tearing up, your forehead dripping sweat.

"I can't," he said, lowering his knife, catching his breath again, and for the first time, you could notice he was telling the truth.

The adrenaline inside you made your heart beat faster. But deep down, you knew it wasn't just the adrenaline. It was your feelings for him too, dominating your mind like poison, controlling every move of yours. Leon remained silent, his eyes still focused and locked on yours, and even though you both were tired, you knew he was sharing the same as you.

"What are you waiting for, Leon?" you asked him, accepting it was your end. You would die without knowing the truth, although you were starting to figure it out. "Fucking finish me"

But then, he surprised you with an urgent kiss, picking you up, holding your thighs, and pressing you hard against the wall, his tongue tasting every part of your face and your neck. You tangled your legs around his neck, your fingernails leaving scratches on his back, making him moan between your shared kisses.

Then, he put you down on a table, removing everything that was above, not caring about the noise or the mess or even the dirt. He used his belt to tie you down, removing your jeans and your underwear before he did the same. His fingers reached your pussy and he smiled largely, satisfied with his effect on you.

"I know you wanted me, ever since the day we met," he said, touching your clit and circling very slowly. "But that's okay, honey... I've always wanted to fuck you too"

"Shit, Leon..." You moan for him, biting your lip as you feel his touch. You were about to close your legs, but he stopped you from doing so.

"Don't you dare close your legs, sweetheart. I won't be gentle with you" he said, using the tip of his cock to tease you, rubbing it on your pussy, making you moan.

He gagged you with your underwear and smiled even more, looking at how desperate you were. You were so wet that he didn't have any trouble penetrating you, going deeper and slowly, his finger still circling your clit.

"Is this how you imagined me fucking you, honey?" he provoked you, starting to fuck you harder and you nodded, unable to answer. "Shit, you're so good... so tight, just for me"

He moans as he goes deeper into you, his fingers circling your clit, following the moves of his hips against yours. You moan, even muffled by your underwear in your mouth. He forces you to watch what he's doing to you, his hand holding your tied hands, making sure you're not going to move.

"You're so fucking beautiful" he moans again, looking at you, seeing your desperate body beg for him, which makes him smile largely. "Oh, God..."

Then, he takes off the underwear from your mouth and makes you sit down on your knees on the floor, putting his cock in your mouth, almost reaching your throat, making you suck him. He holds your head, making you taste him deeper, and when he removed himself out of your mouth, you gasped. Your eyes were tearing up, but he didn't care, he kept forcing you to suck him, and he knew you were enjoying it.

"Come on, sweetheart" he moans again, holding your head as he watches you suck him deep. "Shit, you're so good, baby"

You felt his precum on your mouth, and when he got closer to cum, he started to masturbate and force you to look at him while he did that. He started to moan again, still holding your head tight, until he released himself, and his cum when all over your face, his moans louder. His breath was heavier, and you saw his body trembling with the sudden release of pleasure. And to you, it was the most beautiful image you had of him, the type of Greek sculpture made by the Gods.

But if you thought he was done with you, well, you were wrong.

He lifted you again, pulling you back on the desk, spreading your legs wide open to lick you, tasting you on his tongue. The contact he made was so intense that the moan escaped through your lips like a sweet melody. Your tied hands reached his hair, and when he felt your touch, he glanced at you, a mean smile appearing on his lips.

"No, no, darling," he said, moving your hands away from his hair, that devilish smile still on his lips.

Leon hold your hands, and then, he returned his mouth to your pussy, licking it like a starved animal eating his prey. You started to moan, this warm feeling growing inside you, dominating your entire being. You lost yourself in the waves of pleasure, feeling them crashing over you like a tsunami of raw emotion. Your breathing grew heavier, each breath a desperate attempt to hold on to reality amidst the overwhelming ecstasy.

"Leon," you finally gasped, your voice barely a whisper. "I can't hold on much longer."

He met your gaze, his eyes filled with desire and passion, his pleasure entwined with yours, as he kept licking you, getting his mouth filled with your lubrication.

"Let go, honey," he encouraged his voice husky with desire. "I'm here with you."

With a final surge of intensity, you finally surrendered to the tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you. Your body quivered and shook, waves of delight coursing through your veins like liquid fire. In that euphoric moment, you were weightless, suspended in an infinite sea of rapture. Your body trembled with ecstasy as you let out a cry that echoed through the room, and then, you felt your body relaxed, and a sense of serenity washed over you. You opened your eyes, and the intensity of your gaze met Leon's.

For a moment, you could find words to express your thoughts. You remained in silence, watching the ceiling and trying to catch your breath. You couldn't think about anything else besides what happened. Your body was sensitive, still shivering, and you could still feel the pleasure. Until you saw him getting dressed again.

"I know you had a crush on me," he says out of nowhere, attaining your attention again. "And that is okay, this feeling is mutual"

"How long have you known that?" you ask him, sitting on the desk and putting your clothes back on again.

"Ever since we met. I wasn't kidding" he said, putting his gear back on, glancing at you while he spoke.

And when he turned around, you took the opportunity to look at the file about the double agents. And when you saw his name in there, everything started to fall apart. Everything made sense to you. Leon Scott Kennedy, the agent you fell in love with and trusted with your life, was working for the Umbrella Corporation. His eyes met yours, and there was nothing he could say.

"You work for them?" was the only thing you could ask him, feeling betrayed.

Leon sighed heavily, and instantly, his eyes changed. It was cold, dark, and empty of emotions. There was a macabre smile on his lips as he started to walk towards you.

"I told you before... you shouldn't have looked at it" he said, and then everything went black.

Your head was spinning around, and your left temple was aching, and you knew it was like someone hit you hard in the head. Besides this, your wrists were hurting too, and when you finally opened your eyes, you looked up and saw yourself suspended in the air, your hands tied by chains. You tried to free yourself, but it was very tight, and there was nothing you could do.

Suddenly, you heard a noise, and you felt your body falling to the ground, with a loud thud. Every part of you was hurting, and you felt your bones were burning. You started to cry when you saw Leon approaching you. His gaze is almost diabolical, like he was an animal with his helpless prey.

It was like he could take all the air from your lungs and leave you to die, and probably he would do that without hesitation. The sad part? You wouldn't mind. You felt so betrayed that at the moment, nothing else matters.

You were laying down on the floor, your eyes tearing up and your body aching in pain, and all he did was stare at you with those devilish, cold, and handsome blue eyes that you always loved. And while your body remembered that you were bleeding, your mind was racing, all your thoughts were focused on only one question: why?

"It hurts when we face the truth, isn't it?" he asks you, kneeling next to you, his hand resting on his knee as he holds his gun.

"I fucking hate you" Your voice sounds sharper and angrier, but you can't even stop looking at him.

"Funny. This isn't what I heard five hours ago" he smirks, trying to break your control, his hand reaching for your open wound, poking it and making you scream. "Yeah, that's better"

"You fucking asshole" your voice cracked a little as you sob in pain, your body twitching, trying to escape from him. "Why would you do that? You tricked me"

"Tricked you?" he laughs, his voice sounding colder than ever as he keeps looking at your miserable condition. "C'mon... I'm just doing my job, honey"

You spit on his face, your tears already falling down your cheeks. He smiled again, cleaning himself from your saliva before he grabbed you by your neck, his grip tight.

"I'll give you three options, honey. Chose one of them very carefully" Leon said, his eyes locked on yours, his dark smile getting bigger as he forced you to look at him. "One, you'll return with me, and you won't say a word about that damn file and let me do my job..."

You felt his cold gun reaching your face. He gently rubbed it on your face.

"Two, you'll work with me and help me get what I want" he whispers, his voice still cold, but a little bit caring, his eyes shining with the possibilities.

"What's the third option?" you ask him, your voice failing a little due to his tight grip on your neck. He smiled again, biting his lower lip before saying something.

"Your third option is death" he revealed calmly, like he did that before. You cried a little more, but he didn't care. "And I'll make it very slowly and painfully. So, darling, what's your choice?"

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rblooms · 4 months

Text

The Love That Slipped Away.

this is part two of my previous story the love we lost.

Description: (Gojo x Reader) It's been a year since Satoru Gojo cheated on you. He thought it wouldn't hurt when you left him. He soon realized that you were the one for him.

Warnings: 18+, Strong language, MINORS DNI!

part 1 linked here

Days have been extremely dull and gray. Satoru has done nothing but work, exorcise curses, go home and rest. It's the same cycle every day. Sure, his oh so beloved Amy was there with him, but it wasn't the same. You would always lighten up a room with a smile, But Amy didn't. Satoru and Amy didn't have anything in common other than their sex life. Ever since you left him, he's been nothing but an empty shell of who he was. You took his heart with him that day.

He thought he would be better off with Amy but he was so very wrong. Amy was nothing but a pretty face with no personality. Satoru's students disliked Amy. They would always ask for you.

"Sensei! Where's Y/n?"

"I wish y/n was here."

"I miss Y/n!"

He has no clue where you are or what you have been up to. You blocked his number and social media accounts. He obviously tried looking you up but was always met disappointment when you were nowhere to be found.

A few months later. It was mid spring when Amy had cheated on him with another man. Satoru was heartbroken shattered even. Amy had left a wound on his heart. He truly did love her. His world was all about her but what is his world now that his left? He was left ruined and alone in the place he once called "home". He sat on his bed lost in thought. Heart now broken in pieces.

"Is this how y/n felt?"

He had finally felt what you felt the day you find out he was unfaithful. It was an awful feeling. It was a stomach-churning feeling. His beautiful blue eyes had opened. He realized what he lost. What he let slip away. He took your love for granted. You were meant for him. You were his person. You saw much more to Satoru other than the strongest and a pretty face. Memories of you and him being happy together flooded his mind. Tears filled his angelic cerulean eyes. He sobbed and sobbed till no more tears fell from his eyes. His porcelain skin was stained with tear streaks. His ocean like eyes were now red and puffy. His snow liked hair was disheveled and ruined.

Was it worth it? He chose a girl with a pretty face. A good fuck. Were his friends and students, right? Did he really just pick a doll face over the most extravagant person who always bighted a room with just their presence alone? Whose voice and smile always made his heart flutter like a bird in cage ready to burst. His warm bed that he once shared with you was now cold and barren. When was the last time he got a proper goodnight sleep?

He would do anything to get you back. no matter how long it takes. He has to see his other person. The person who still has heart.

He walked around the streets of Tokyo. He looked at the Stores and Cafes nearby. The cherry blossoms where in full bloom. Streets were covered in beautiful pink leaves. He eyed the Pastries that people were handing out. The sweet fruity delightful aroma of the pastries filled his nostrils. There was on peculiar scent that caught his attention. It was your scent. That sweet scent you always had. It was as if spring had blossomed all over you. He would never forget that sweet scent you always had.

His eyes widen and he looked to where the scent was. His eyes rapidly scanned over everyone. All he could hear was the sound of his heart beating. His eyes fell on your beautiful smile. There you were. God, you looked so mesmerizing. You were glowing. A sight for sore eyes even. His cerulean eyes were focused on you. The pink petals that flew in the wind complimented you so damn much. He has fallen for you all over again.

He was so happy he has finally seen you after so long. He walked towards you. His heart was pounding like crazy with each step he took.

"Y-Y/n..? is it really you...?" He spoke softly but loud enough to make you look at his direction. His heart skipped a beat. Your beautiful colored eyes stared at his disgustingly beautiful eyes.

"Satoru." You replied with a nonchalant voice. His heart ached with the emptiness in your voice. Your voice used to be sweet like an angel.

"You look good." Satoru complimented you with a soft smile but all it left was a sour taste in your mouth.

"Don't try to sweet talk me" You scoffed at him. Satoru awkwardly smiled.

"It's good to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same" There was a hint of sadness in your voice.

"L-Look I just wanted to-" Satoru was caught off by a voice coming from behind you.

"Sorry sweetie the line was really long." A tall man with long black hair with weird bangs and black circle stud earrings approached you. The unknown man gave you a gentle kiss on your cheek while he wrapped his arms around you. He had a pastry package with him.

"Oh? Satoru what are you doing here?" Satoru got a better look at the man Infront of him. It was his best friend Suguru Geto. They were friends back in high school before they separated ways.

"Suguru? What are YOU doing here?" Satoru was caught completely off guard. Why was his best friend here with his beloved? So many questions swirled in his head.

"I'm here shopping with my lover" Suguru wrapped his muscular arm around your waist pulling you into his side keeping you in a secure grasp. Satoru had jealousy and sadness in his bright blue eyes. Seeing you with another man had his heart aching. Your sweet warm smile wasn't for him anymore. He is no longer the man you wake up to every day. That should've been HIM by your side. Not Suguru.

"You guys know each other?" You asked your boyfriend Suguru turning your face to look at his beautiful face. He was smiling. "We have some history from back in our high school days. Long story short he's my best friend." Suguru gave you a warm smile. "So, who is he to you?" Suguru asked you with sweet smile.

"He's the unfaithful ex-boyfriend I've told you about." You said with a sigh. Satoru's heart twisted with sadness and guilt at the word "unfaithful". He eyes didn't dare to meet your eyes. He knew what he had done. How could he ever get you back? There's no way he would be able to call you his again. The guilt that drowned him was enough to make him puke.

"Oh, so Satoru is the man that crushed your heart all those months ago?" Suguru was looking at Satoru with nothing with disappointment. "I'll admit Satoru. I never expected this from you. How did you let such a sweet person slip through your fingers like sand. Hm well, I guess if it wasn't for your fuck up, I wouldn't have landed such a lovely person."

Suguru looked at his white-haired friend. Satoru looked ruined as he finally faced the music. "I never meant for shit to turn out like this. Fuck! I'm so sorry Y/n. I know an apology isn't going to change the fact I hurt you. I know we can't fix shit between us. I finally realized how much you loved me. You were my everything and still are. You gave me your all. I was pathetic to not treat you the same way. But I've lost you now. Even though I'm not the one who's going to be by your side anymore at least someone will." Tears fell from his Ocean colored eyes falling onto the pale sidewalk. People looked the commotion happening but carried on their day.

You looked at Satoru as he silently began wiping his tears. Suguru's grasp around your waist tightened. Suddenly, the memories you tried so hard to forget came back. The day you ended things with Satoru. The day your heart was shattered to pieces. The one fucking day you saw him and his girlfriend passionately making love. skin on skin. lips on lips. hand in hand. It all came back to you. You watched as the man in front you broke down in tears. His eyes becoming puffy. His blue ironed button up was now wrinkled and stained with tears.

You grabbed Suguru's hand and intertwined it with yours. He let go of the grasp he had you in. You looked at the broken man Infront of you.

"I wanted you and only you. But you wanted something more. And I couldn't give you that. You made your decision when you picked her over me. I gave you my word, my loyalty, my trust. But you didn't give me anything. I always ate dinner alone waiting for your arrival, but you would eat another womans dinner and share a warm meal together. Where was I when you went to her house to fuck? Was I even a priority to you? I was questioning my worth every damn night. The lipstick stains on your neck and clothes never went unnoticed. I begged for your attention for you to look at me again, but you never batted an eye. I was never important to you Satoru. I never was. The nights I slept alone and cold in our shared bed were always the worst nights ever. You only started caring once I left." You looked at him once more before turning around and walking away with your boyfriend hand in hand.

Satoru can only stare with tears running down his face. He was an idiot to come looking for you. He was an idiot losing you in the first place. Your words struck his heart. He looked at you as your walking away from him. He has to live with the guilt of betraying you. He managed to pick himself up and head home. The sky turned gray, and rain started pouring. He hopes the rain will wash away his sorrow. No one will ever replace you again. His love that slipped away. Maybe one day. just maybe you will comeback. Until then he'll wait for you with open arms.

Thanks for reading!!

Bloo Note: Hey guys so sorry for part 2 coming out so late. I was not gonna make "The Love We Lost" a part 2 originally lolol. BUT I did mange making a part two while juggling school. Ending was INSANLEY rushed but hope u guys eat this up (or hate it idc). credit to the people who made the dividers!! taglist: @kawaiivillainess98

#jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk imagine #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #geto suguru #angst #anime #cheating boyfriend #jujutsu kaisen

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dollfaced-erin · 4 months

Note

can i request something about jing yuan being domestic with your dc!reader and yanqing 🥹 like maybe he comes home to his seemingly empty house and he reminisces on the many years he spent alone after the hcq fell apart + reader fell into a deep slumber until he spots you both in the garden, with yanqing asleep on your lap/shoulder and you basking in the silence and jing yuan realizes that even though things will never go back to the way they were before, he'd be more than glad to start anew with you and cherish all the time he has with you (+ yanqing who you've both taken under your wing!!)

A/n : -

HELP THIS IS TOO SWEET ? I CANNOT BRAIN ?!?! i have finally finished my exams and is now a free woman for a month WEEHEE ! i'll do my best with catching on withthe requests and the current storyline ! have you guys played penacony ? i only played a bit and whoa was it BEAUTIFUL ?! btw, Dan Jia was subjected to her shell before Dan Feng's molting rebirth, and cracked not long after Dan Heng was exiled from the xianzhou.

Taglist : -

Day by day passed, and he felt as if not one of them held a single significant meaning to his soul. He had long died in the past, though his body lived on in a shell immortal to time and corrosion…

He had long felt joyous emotions before those dreaded days approached. The days…where he had lost his comrades…one by one without a shred of mercy from any deity with powers no matter how much he begged, cried, broke at the demise of his loved ones.

What use was a large house when there was no one to brighten it up...? To him, it was merely a structure, might even be considered a store where he keeps all valuables and merely comes to rest before leaving, day after day.

He couldn't bare to remember the pain he felt deep in his heart when he heard of the news of the passing of his friend. In a long, arduous and almost fruitless battle against the Denizens of Abundance, his friend had sacrificed herself in summoning the deity…The Hunter of Worlds…Lan. Being struck down by one of the divine arrows raining from the sky, all that was left was mere droplets of blood…and a tuft of her soft lavender hair.

He couldn't dare think about the betrayal he felt in his heart, etching deep within his being when he realized the sins his friends had committed. An arrogant man…colluding with the proud dragon in creating a life of he deceased, even sacrificing their mutual beloved in the process.

He didn't ever endure nights without nightmares, where his own companion was infected with life beyond death, tainted with the curse of immortality from the flesh of an emanator of abundance. The pain of the sounds of bones cracking and flesh tearing to recreate the man in his younger ages time and time again, before he fled the lands to a planet barren of life…

He couldn't forget the feeling of burden on his shoulders, watching as his legendary mentor be reduced to a mind insane in plagued with rampaging mara that caused her to commit crimes beyond her comprehension, reducing her title from the General to a mere felon that had escaped in the night where the moon was high and full above their heads, pale like the color of her hair.

He could never forget the burden he felt slumped on his shoulders, a full world on him as he upheld the position of his mentor, and sentenced his own friend to molten rebirth, listening to the cries of the dragon who yearned for the body of his sister, injured and subdued due to his own stupid and selfish actions.

He couldn't ignore the searing sensation he felt in his chest when he brought the limp body of the woman he loved, who had grown alongside him, who had been with them through thick and thin in the shadows, back to her shell to heal and reform anew.

As he trudged through the silent halls of his home, feeling somewhat empty, his tired golden eyes wandered around. He looked at the beautiful ornaments and art that decorated the house, that was until he noticed an open door on his right, the sliding door that led to the courtyard of his manor.

He was a little confused at first, before his golden eyes shone with remembrance and a tugging at his heart that led him to walk towards that opening. He didn't know what he'd see there, but he had a feeling he knew.

The general of the Luofu leaned against the doorframe as he admired the sight before him.

A sight he would give anything to protect. A sight that he would never forsake or take for granted with every fiber of his being. A sight that he would never dare forget no matter how much Mara would strike him in his future years...

He knew deep in his heart that she would be different when she was reborn…and the same goes for her brother. Perhaps they would lead new lives, lives that would never intersect with his ever again.

He thought he was ready to forget her in his memories, but that would be as if deleting a piece in the complicated puzzled. Incomplete.

That was until her shell broke again, where the Pearl Keepers immediately contacted the Seat of Divine Foresight…

"This…cant be." Jing Yuan gasped softly as he knelt before the body that was hatched from its shell.

Upon normal circumstances and past experience, the body cracked from the Vidyadhara pearl would conceive a new individual, where the waters would wash away their past and their sins as they carried new names and led new lives…

But this wasn't it…

Before him was a young woman instead of a child, bare and naked in front of him, eyes closed and unmoving. He reached a hand, and felt that her body was deathly cold, but he felt warmth from her nose as she inhaled and exhaled softly.

She had the same horns…the same skin tone…the same feel…the same size…!

It was her…Dan Jia. Dan Jia had been reborn in a shell similar to her past, almost similar to Dan Heng who had intentionally underwent Molten Rebirth and attained his younger form, not being reborn as a full grown adult !

"This must've been the result of the lacking process of the Transmutation Arcanum…" One of the Preceptors noted. "Before his demise, Imbibator Lunae Dan Feng had already announced his heir, a girl in the future named Bailu."

The egg was still small, not yet of its time…

"An abomination, lacking the Dragon Heart…" another elder said, shaking his head. "The heart was already ripped out of Saltator Lunae Dan Jia, so why is she still retaining the form of her former self ?"

Little did Jing Yuan know that they had messed up the Molten Rebirth, resulting in a flaw in Dan Feng's incarnation, and automatically jeopardizing the rebirth of Dan Jia. Those two were still connected, even in near death…

"Bring her to the jurisdiction of the Ten-Lords Commission." Jing Yuan said sternly, holding Dan Jia's reformed body in his arms to preserve her modesty, as if he hadn't let loose the tears he had been keeping in for so long.

His eyes were red rimmed as he embraced the body of his beloved, tears still trickling down as the aftermath of him crying in joy, knowing he wasn't quite alone in this life.

That...was the first change that had happened through his dark days.

Though his life was slightly troubled with bidding off an old friend formed anew, wishing off the young teen a happier life, away from the mistakes of his former incarnation.

The teen too wished him happier and brighter days. He wished he could say the same for himself, and the universe seemed to be smiling upon him after the challenges life had thrown to his shoulders.

Everyday seemed to be better now, routine, even. Ever since Dan Jia was released from the Ten-Lords Commission, a room was built for her, in tribute to the sleeping dragon that never stirred awake. She was hovering between life and death, with no actual signs of waking up, but also no signs of succumbing to death. She was just...in a dormant state.

"Perhaps the shock of suddenly taking away her heart had really hit her with the blow she didn't expect..." One of the judges said, looking at the young woman's body that rested in a room similar to a display room one would find in a museum, housing only the most valuable and precious items.

Which...was partially true.

Jing Yuan looked around the large room. It had red pillars holding it up, and banners with celestial wordings scribed into them, giving a light golden shine. The path from the door was carpeted with a precious red fabric, leading it up to a small platform, a couple steps high.

And there...lay a large glass box, with beautiful ice flowers filling it's depths, illuminating the dark room with a calming shade of blue, a lighter color of the horns of the individual resting in the coffin.

This...was a beautiful box, Jing Yuan thought as he reached a hand in, and gathered silky locks of (h/c) in his hand, bringing it close to his lips as he kissed it.

Everyday...he would go to work, then stay with (Y/n) for a while, talking to her about everyday, having lunch or dinner by her side as he basked in the peaceful silence. Then he would return home for the day, and the cycle would repeat.

That was until one fateful night, where he had heard knocking.

As he groggily trudged his way to the door, he was aware of his surroundings. Who was it bothering him such late into the night...?

And there he saw it...a young child crying softly in its bassinet, little arms reaching out towards whoever had stumbled upon him.

Jing Yuan's heart melted, wrenching in guilt and sorrow as he bent down and collected the little child in his arms. The little infant soon stilled, finding the beating of Jing Yuan's heart in his chest soothing and comforting and lulling the young child to sleep.

He honestly didn't know how to deal with the child, even after days of exhausting his resources to find the boy's parents.

"I don't know what to do, Dan Jia." Jing Yuan sighed as he leaned against the coffin, closing his eyes as he pondered about his choices and decisions.

"I know if it were you...you'd find it in both mind and heart to bring the child in, adopting him..." Jing Yuan said, trailing off before the idea actually struck him in the chord.

"Adopting...him...?" He repeated softly and wondered to himself as memories came back flooding to him. During the days where his own master brought him in to train him as a child.

His...very own retainer. Just as he was for Jingliu...

But would he be able to do it...?

He'd just have to give it a try. Besides, there were people around him that were able to help him, like the Foxian servants that lingered in his manor. Perhaps he could also task them with taking care of the child.

"But...what should I name him then ?" He wondered again, lifting his head off the edge of the beautiful box of eternity and looking at the young slumbering woman inside, the very definition of elegance and grace with traits of altruism and devotion.

"I wish he would have the same poise and patience you do. And at a young age...I will teach him the ropes of becoming my retainer, destined for greatness of someone with position and power. I would teach him to never abuse his power, to be kind and honest like you..."

He reached a hand in, stroking her cold cheek that was still soft to the touch, thinking of possible elements he wanted to name the young boy as. Something...something special...

Something like (Y/n) and the ice flowers around her. Something that connected both of them. Something they had in common. Something only he would know the reason behind.

Then it hit him. The general smiled warmly as he gazed at the sleeping dragon, a brilliant idea coming to mind.

"It's official." He said lovingly, smiling warmly. "I'll name him Yanqing. Yan...after your elegance, and Qing after our matching high-ranking official titles."

Thus was born the child of frost, named Yanqing. The son he raised by his own, keeping Dan Jia's principles close to his heart to raise a young man that had inherited both their traits.

He smiled warmly, crossing over his arms with a chuckle leaving his lips as he watched (Y/n) lean against the ancient tree that sprouted tall and high in the middle of the courtyard, her horns perched on her head shining with the light that passed through the shade provided by the tree's thick canopy of leaves. She was sleeping, her beautiful eyes closed as she rested against the tree, a young child curled up on her lap.

Yanqing had laid his head on (Y/n)'s lap, probably exhausted from another full day of training and mastering the art of ice with (Y/n) and the power to control his swords with his mind. His blonde locks fell and covered his forehead as he snuggled close to (Y/n), a hand of the dragon lady lovingly placed on his shoulder as he rested on her lap.

Another hand of (Y/n)'s was perched on Mimi's thick and luscious mane. Mimi was curled on (Y/n)'s other side, finding solace in the young woman's cold presence from the smoldering heat. The proud feline placed its head on its paws, large head nuzzled into the side of (Y/n)'s thigh, purring softly as it lounged around with the duo.

Right...he wasn't alone anymore. All those years of loneliness and darkness were gone, left behind him.

These two before him...were his light in the darkness.

He smiled warmly at the duo before him.

Jing Yuan knew that he was happy in his past, where the High Cloud Quintet were prime in their era. But he would do anything to live in this moment, gazing at his beloved who held his child close, caring for him like her own kin.

Though things would never return to as they were, he was more than glad to tread on his future days with the woman he loved and the child he raised.

"I love you." The white-haired man whispered as he kissed (Y/n)'s forehead as he caressed Yanqing's golden hair.

"I love you both so much."

#dragon's cradle #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #hsr x reader #dollhouse mailbox #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you

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gimmethatagustd · 7 months

Note

okay I’m here like two business days later with that request because my adhd brain forgot about it lmao

GHOSTFACE!! YOONGI!! I added the picture of yoongi because I had a very ~specific~ yoongi look in mind when thinking of this loll. I’m thinking Halloween party vibes?? or any other way that a costume would make sense. idk I’m making this request late at night so my brain is half turned off. I’m kind of letting you take the reins here and make it as spooky as you feel comfortable with. like I said I’d love to see your take on this because I love your mind <3

You've had your eyes set on Yoongi for as long as you can remember. What you didn't know is that he's had his eyes on you, too.

↳ pairing: yoongi x f!reader

↳ wc/date: 1.4k | October 2023

↳ warnings: dubcon, knife play, blood play, yandere vibes, mc is afraid but also turned on, mc is confused and so am i, slut shaming, humiliation, lowkey gaslighting/victim-blaming, a toxic relationship at the least, vaginal fingering, open ending, i wrote this half asleep and without editing

↳ notes: i have no idea what the fuck this is 🥲 pls forgive me. idk how this happened

↳ masterlist / taglist

↳ what was jai listening to? freak - sub urban ft. rei ami

Halloween 2023 Masterlist

Clink. Clink. Clink.

The wind kicks dry leaves across the sidewalk, swirling them around your feet. Twisting your torso around, you glance over your shoulder as you walk. One of your red stiletto heels falls in the crack between the slabs of concrete. Pain blooms in your ankle when you wobble. The sound of you sucking a breath through your clenched teeth is the only thing disrupting the still, crisp autumn air.

Until you hear it again.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

It sounds like metal on metal, perhaps the jingle of keys or buckles knocking into each other as someone walks.

Alcohol warms your cheeks and chest despite how revealing your red corset and miniskirt are. Still, you know that the sound following you ever since you left Jungkook’s Halloween party is real and not some alcohol-induced paranoia from walking home alone at two in the morning on Halloween.

Jungkook hadn’t wanted you to walk, but finding an Uber so late at night would be impossible, and everyone else at the party had been too drunk to drive you home.

Two blocks isn’t much at all.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

The sidewalk is empty when you twist around and try not to trip again. Streetlights cast shadows across the grass that could be people. Or animals. Or monsters. Creatures of the night.

Taking a deep breath, you quickly unlock the gate that opens to wooden stairs leading to the backdoor of your apartment on the second floor. You rush up the stairs as quickly as you can in the stupid heels your best friend convinced you to wear because they’re sexy, and you both thought they might help you catch the eye of a certain boy.

It wasn’t worth the trouble, though. The certain boy barely looked your way.

For a second too long, you stall, fumbling with your keys to find the one that will unlock your backdoor. Your fingers feel numb from the cold, and your reflexes are dulled by whatever was in the punch Hoseok made. Perhaps that’s why you don’t know what looms behind you until its body has yours pressed against your door.

Sticking your hands out, you try to stop yourself from hitting your face. It works, but now your arms are trapped between your body and the door. Your keys fall with a hollow thud, and for a heartbeat, the world is silent, like every creature in existence is holding its breath.

Every creature except for the one crowding you against the door. It breathes, hot and heavy, against the shell of your ear, scattering goosebumps across your skin. You’re burning up from its body heat, the creature big and firmly pressed against every inch of you.

But what makes your knees tremble isn’t the oppressive force of this thing sticking to you like a second skin. It’s the clink and then something cool and sharp pressed against your throat.

You can’t swallow down your nerves without fear of your throat bobbing against what you guess is a large knife.

“Are you scared?” a voice whispers. Soft lips brush the tip of your ear. Then a nose, buttoned and cold, drags along the side of your neck. “You’re being such a good girl, didn’t even scream.”

Fear clutches your heart, but that voice strokes a fire in your core. It’s sick how you shiver against the man’s chest because you know it isn’t only because you’re scared of him.

“You’re not funny, Yoongi,” you say with a shaky breath and do your best not to move too much when you talk.

Yoongi chuckles into your shoulder, where he’s nuzzled his face. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

The knife glides down your throat at the point with not enough pressure to break the skin but just enough for it to feel uncomfortable.

“Are you gonna let me in?”

It’s not a real knife. Yoongi is your friend; he wouldn’t threaten you. Or, at least, you think he’s your friend. He’d ignored you all night, though.

“Did you seriously follow me all the way here at two in the morning just to scare me?” You elbow him out of the way so you can bend down to retrieve your keys.

“Yeah,” Yoongi admits with a gummy smile.

Inside your apartment, you can get a better look at him. His costume is just his regular clothes with a Ghostface mask, though he isn’t wearing the mask anymore. It’s tied to one of his belt loops. The side bumps against the metal of his belt when he walks.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

“You’re ridiculous.”

Yoongi’s grin grows. “Jungkook didn’t want you walking by yourself.”

“Then why didn’t you walk with me instead of following me around like a creep?”

You kick off your heels and take ginger steps toward the kitchen, the balls of your feet throbbing. Out of the corner of your eye, Yoongi shrugs. His pretty black hair falls against his shoulders and curls into his eyelashes when he tilts his head to watch you.

“You knew I was there,” he doesn’t ask, just smiles when you roll your eyes.

Catching your wrist, Yoongi stops you from crossing the living room to the kitchen. His grip on you is bruising when he yanks you into his chest. It’s claustrophobic and makes your stomach churn when you twist your wrist, and Yoongi doesn’t let go.

“I’m thirsty.” Your voice comes out as a whisper, can’t manage to get any louder. “Let me go.”

“Interesting,” Yoongi murmurs. “I’m thirsty, too.”

You follow his eyes when he drops his chin to peer between your bodies. At the same time, you feel the cool edge of the knife drag up your thigh. The tip eventually catches on the edge of your miniskirt. In one swift motion, Yoongi flicks the knife up and cuts through the thin, stretchy fabric. A thin line of blood sprouts from the shallow cut his knife makes up the inside of your thigh.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, watching little dribbles of blood trickle down your leg. Heat spreads from the cut across your thigh and unfurls in your stomach.

The dim lighting of your living room reflects in warm tones within Yoongi’s dark irises. Squeezing your wrist even tighter, he walks you backward until your legs hit the edge of your couch.

“You liked it,” Yoongi points out with a tut of his tongue, his tone condescending and judgemental. The shame it stirs in your chest makes it hard for you to breathe. “Let me press you up against the door. Mark you up with this,” he twirls the knife around, making a show of how loosely he grasps it.

“Yoongi.”

Yoongi brings the knife to your lips to silence you. The tip glistens with your blood.

“Keep quiet like a good girl for me, okay, sweetheart?” Yoongi kneels on the couch in between your spread legs. The position forces your ruined skirt higher up your thighs, exposing your sheer red thong.

You watch in amazement as Yoongi drags the tip of his knife up your inner thigh until he reaches the edge of your thong. Lightly, he drags the tip along your clothed pussy. It doesn’t cut you, but you can’t stop shaking because it could, and you don't know what that would mean for you if you admitted that you kind of want it to.

“Why are you–”

“Shhh, don’t play so innocent,” Yoongi murmurs. He leans forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You dressed up so pretty for me. Look so good in red; I wanted to see more of it on you.”

The knife presses against the crease of your inner thigh and slices upward, giving you another shallow cut while cutting you loose from your thong.

You moan when Yoongi drags his cold fingers along your folds, dig your nails into his forearm when he plunges two fingers into your pussy and makes your muscles flutter.

“So wet for me, fuck, you’re such a slut,” Yoongi moans as your pussy greedily sucks in his fingers despite the press of the bloodied blade against your throat.

"Yoongi, please," you buck into his hand, urging him to fuck you faster. Your thighs sting from the cuts, and your legs are wet with little streams of blood, but you've never felt so close to an orgasm so quickly in your life.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take good care of you.”

Halloween 2023 Masterlist

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

#jai asks #souryoong #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #bts angst #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #ash!#halloween 2023 #ghostface killers

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nrdmssgs · 7 months

Text

Prazdnik (part 2)

Masterlist Pairing: Nikto x reader Fluff AN: @sofasoap @keegansshark @yaboidante2711 @ella-bella-ella this wasn't the original plan, but because of you this guy got his kiss. Summary: this happens a few months after the first part.

Nikto lets out a thin whiff of cigarette smoke, that dissolves in crisp air. He is tired by this point. Every time he tries to think of anything, but her - the world finds its ways to remind him. Even now, when he looks up in the dimly lit sky - the curved streaks of clouds remind him of x-rays of her lungs with the subtle curves of ribs. Usually, soldiers got shot, broke their limbs or survived a shell shock, but she just had to be original and to spoil his life in a unique way - she ended up in a medbay with a pneumonia.

He tried to end this all for good, he ignored her, hid away, even tried to start a fight once - nothing helped. At the end of the day he always found himself somewhere around her: quietly hanging out, helping her or letting her help him. Nikto wasn't blind - he saw the way she looked at him. And what was even worse - he secretly started enjoying a feeling of being needed. But there was no way, he could let whatever them two had grow. His 'Prazdnik' ended the minute he stepped out of your room, and should never be repeated. Not at the cost of her frightened eyes, her forever disturbed sleep, her disgust the minute she sees him without a mask.

Time to time Nikto thinks about that touch that almost happened. He was never an innocent one, and he gladly does so many unhinged, unfair, dirty things to women, who are ok with never seeing his face and not being able to meet him again after the deed is done. But when it comes to her - Nikto doesn't want all those sins, that he usually indulges himself in. He craves not even a real kiss - just a touch of her lips against his skin would be enough. It would be ok if she chooses to not even move, not caress him. Just let him feel that warmth, he almost felt.

He frowns at this thought and takes another deep drag. The base is almost empty, except an emergency group, soldiers at medbay, a few office workers and superiors. So Nikto immediately recognizes tall figure moving from barracks to where he is standing.

"Vot tol`ko kalanchi mne seychas ne hvatalo...*" Nikto mutters frustrated and checks if there is any place he could walk away fast enough and seem preoccupied at the same time. But not being able to find any direction, in which he could retreat, he faces the Colonel, hoping, he would keep it short and simple, as usual.

"You staying for the holidays?" Colonels voice is low, he doesn't even hold back his German accent - a rare sign, that the man is exhausted.

"Have some unfinished business." Nikto tries to be as vague as possible, hoping, that it will drain Colonels social battery, and he leaves him alone.

But his commander is in no hurry to leave and hands him some paper. Nikto asks if it's a new contract, but Colonel shakes his hand. "This is for the unfinished business."

He leaves Nikto alone and confused, not wanting to hear his angry rants about how he doesnt need whatever assistance Colonel can provide. Nikto is awful when it comes to gift receiving, everybody in the KorTac knows it.

***

She wakes up with a loud cough in the middle of the night and Nikto immediately pulls her up, so she can sit on the bed straight. Clearing her throat, she reaches for the bedside lamp, but Nikto catches her hand.

"It's just me, don't bother." He pushes her hand back gently, wanting the room to remain dark.

"Andre? How did you?... Why are you here?" She barely breathes after hard coughing, but already dumps him with questions.

Nikto turns away and chuckles quietly. To tell the truth, he doesn't even know what the hell he needs in her hospital room.

"König tinkered me a pass. I thought, it would be a pity to leave you here all alone on the New Year." He lies: he doesn't give a damn about New Year or any other holiday really. Nikto just can't really be else where, when she is like that. He's been restless from the first day of her illness.

A part of him wants to get as close as it is possible, to stay by her side, until she heals fully and even after that. But there are voices appearing, growing louder with every hour. "Run away, run as far as you can, before you grow too soft and traumatize her, you moron!" Nikto is trapped between wanting to leave and needing to stay. So when she pats his shoulder and asks to not worry about her and go celebrate, he comes back to his senses and snaps back at her, 'we are staying!'

By the way her hand darts away from him Nikto understands, that he crossed the line. She is sick, obviously has fever, struggles to breathe normally, and on the top of that comes he with his freakery. He clasps his hands together, so that he doesn't reach back to her and looks down.

"Sorry. We... give me a minute, I'll collect myself." As he speaks - he hears her moving to the opposite side of the small bed. Distant chatter and laughter reach them two through the closed door and Nikto understands, that even medbay staff is celebrating. But the only sound, he now truly cares for is a shuffle of her bedsheets. He scared her off, she now doesn't even feel safe in one room with him. Bloody idiot.

"Come sit here." She touches an empty space besides her. Nikto hesitates for some time, but then surrenders and sits on her bed, making sure, he doesn't squish her accidentally.

"Maybe it's fever, maybe I'm just tired to the end of the year, I don't even care really. I just want to be honest, ok?" She rises from her pillow and leans against his shoulder. He freezes, but then forces himself to nod.

"Good..." She sighs and continues. "Look, I know, I screwed up that 'Prazdnik', I organized. I thought, I just wanted to thank you for everything, but understood too late, I wanted something other. And although I'll never get it - it's ok. I will stop pushing you, annoying you, even talking to you if it helps. But... just today, just for this one night, can we just pretend, I didn't do anything weird on that evening? I really need it."

The moment, when Nikto wants to remind her, she really did nothing weird, and they don't have to pretend, she starts coughing once again. So he brings her closer, letting her practically curl up on his chest. A cough runs in spasms throughout her entire body and Nikto softly strokes her back, repeating 'Nothing weird. You did nothing wrong'. But his mask muffles his voice, and that combined with her coughing makes it impossible for her to hear him. So he leans back on her pillow, softly guides her to lay down on his shoulder, and, praying for it to remain this dark in her room, slowly removes his mask. She doesn't make it hard for him and doesn't turn her face up - just lies obediently, being thankful for this little crack of softness in his cold demeanor, that he shows her.

"I said, you didn't do anything wrong. You just did it all to the wrong guy. All those treats, that improvised desk, I still regret I haven't taken photo of... That silly 'TV', even that branch - it all was so touching. It felt like a real holiday." She doesn't move while listening to Nikto, but he still holds a hand on her head, just in case. Without thinking, he starts playing with her hair. "But you need to do it all for someone real, someone not split into so many pieces, someone, who is more than... well, you know."

She shakes her head and Nikto feels her hand clasping to his side. This half an embrace makes him hold his breath. Something deep inside him shudders and cracks.

"Someone more than you?" She tries to end his phrase, but it is his turn to shake his head.

"Someone more than just remains of a human."

It hurts to stop hiding and say her the truth, but at the same time it feels right. His holiday is over, his celebration is never to come. And Nikto doesn't care anymore - at least he got this minutes, when she held him, before she banishes him for good. Despite all his expectations, she does not push him away.

“I wanted to celebrate the New Year for real. I was going to invite you to my place. Not to my room at the base - but to my home. I know you wouldn’t have come. But I still wanted to invite you. And then this pneumonia...” She coughs again and Nikto strokes her shoulders to make it better. When she finally can breathe again more or less properly, he asks, how would they celebrate if he came.

"Oh, this time I'd make sure, you die of cringe... I'd try to come up with a new recipe and fail ultimately, I'd make you make the 'president speech' this time." She pauses, hearing Niktos raspy low chuckle.

"No, that never happens, you little trouble. I'm not participating in this part of your fantasies."

"Ok-ok, jeez, Andre, I never said, I'd try to force you anyway. I would always ask you. Ask if you can make the speech, ask if you are willing to help me with food, ask if I can... never mind, my message here is maybe you feel broken, torn in pieces. You have every right to feel so..." Nikto is so struck by her sudden change of tone, he doesn't even realize, that her fingers trace lines up his chest and pause over his face, as she continues speaking. "All these pieces, remains, fragments, that call themselves 'Nobody' - they are precious, they are to be treated like human, to be treated with care and love."

He breathes in, trying to find any words for her, but all the words, all the voices, are mixed up in a deafening white noise. So he takes another breath, and another. But nothing changes: no clear words, no thoughts, as if he - not she was on the verge of deliriousness now. Nikto takes her hand and guides it to cover his eyes, not even thinking, she might feel, how ugly his face is. He only wishes for this sensory and emotional overdrive to stop.

And she helps him. Pressing her lips against his, crushing his fears with feather-like touches. Her skin is burning hot, her hands travel from his eyes to cup his cheeks, but Nikto doesn't care right now. Just one more moment of her being this close, one more second of him carefully holding her, one more sigh tickling his skin. He answers to her kiss. Hesitantly, because with all the violence, he holds for his work - Nikto has no violence for her. And kissing her back feels like torturing this treasure of his. He must thank her - not claim. But that self-restrain is strapping his throat with a red-hot collar, smothering him.

Fuck it. A single voice in his head. Loud and clear.

And Nikto lets go. His tongue brushes against her slightly parted lips and he deepens the kiss. He is surprisingly slow, careful, attentive. He is ready to back away at any moment, should she wish to stop. But she doesnt, and his fingers dive into her hair, cupping her head, guiding her so close, that he feels, they share one breath.

When she leans back just slightly - he immediately lets her go, holding his breath and trying to calm rushing heart. Even now he is ready for her to have second thoughts. But she smiles shyly and places a kiss on his burnt cheek.

"Sorry, I must taste like meds." Hearing her whisper he finally starts breathing.

"You taste like 'prazdnik*'. My very own holiday." He stares at the ceiling, not believing, it really happens. While his prazdnik covers his disfigured face with soft touches.

"Vot tol`ko kalanchi mne seychas ne hvatalo...*" - The beanpole... just what I needed

Prazdnik - holyday, celebration

#call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod #cod x reader #mw2 #gromsko mw2 #mw2 x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod headcanons #cod nikto #nikto #nikto x reader #mwii nikto #nikto x you #nikto cod #nikto fluff

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villainofmyownstory · 22 days

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Day Zero

chapter 3: The one when you met

masterlist

taglist

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader

summary: Meeting another person after 2 years of loneliness was not supposed to be like this.

tags: AFAB reader, plus size reader, dog german shepherd, alcohol, weapon

author's note: I don't know... I'm not satisfied with this chapter. I think I reread it and edited it too many times. From this chapter, what happens after days 730... will be in the present tense because, for example, in the next chapter we will return to day 64, of course it is described in the past tense, so it just seems logical to me. I'm not changing chapters 1 and 2, I hope you don't mind. I think I've been spending too much time on this story and I'm starting to think too much.

Thank you all for your positive feedback. You don't even know how much this means to me <3

The next chapter will be posted on May 11 or 12.

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Chapter 3: The one when you met

Day 730

Ghost

There are plenty of things in this damn city that he will never run out of. When Ghost was left almost alone, with Riley by his side of course. Already in the first days, the man noticed that there were things here that would stay with him for the rest of his life. Even when he's gone, many of these items will remain in his warehouses for years to come.

Ironically, what he needed the least, alcohol and clothes.

He was never a demanding person. He didn't expect much from life. He was a rather simple man. A roof over his head, a supply of food, a place to train and peace of mind. So when he realized that this city was only his, he was very happy and satisfied. Not that he hated people. It was just better when they were as far away from him as possible. Somewhere in the background, preferably far from his sight and hearing. For many years he felt irritated by the closeness of another person. Of course, there were a few people who managed to get under the lieutenant's shell and understand his moods, behavior and motivations. However, there were few of them. That's right, they were.

In the army, he worked with several people. For many years he had no one outside of work. No family. No other relatives or friends. So when the captain sent him to a well-deserved rest after another long and hard mission. Ghost couldn't find his place for the first few days. He was simply irritated by mundane, everyday things. Going to the bank, store, clinic or even the gym. Too many people. Everywhere. Constant conversations, gesticulations. Noise.

Too much.

So he was grateful for the development of technology. When he could finally sit in front of his computer in the comfort of his own home and get things done in the office or via an app on his phone. The less contact with other people, the better. That's what he thought.

Now that Riley is missing, the soldier wonders about the meaning of his life. If the world had in some way done him a favor by removing other people from his surroundings, why did he have to take away the one being that made him feel alive. That his life has any meaning.

He wasn't a monster. Of course not. It wasn't like he was hoping for some kind of annihilation of humanity, that he would be the sole survivor on earth and be able to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He just wanted some peace, on his terms.

However, he felt no sadness or regret as he patrolled the empty streets or checked another empty building.

He had lost too many loved ones in the past to grieve over nameless strangers now.

He shouldn't drink. He knows it perfectly well. Two years. 730 days of sobriety. He had promised himself that big day, he had promised Riley, that he would never feel that burning liquid in his throat again. So that he won't become such a madman when alcohol starts circulating in his system again.

So that he does not become his own father. He couldn't even think of this person as someone close to him. Disgusting creature. Reflective sadists. Sperm donor and that's it. Which should never have existed. He buried that monster a long time ago. Just like Ghost buried his own self.

Apart from losing Riley, this was the man's greatest fear in his life. That by drinking alcohol and getting closer to people, he would show them who he really was. That he was just like his twisted psychopathic father.

And he didn't want to be like that, he couldn't. He preferred to hide behind the façade of a domineering, boorish lieutenant in a mask. Pushing others away from himself. The further, the better. He didn't want to hurt anyone.

He preferred to be alone.

He wore a mask almost all the time. He hid his face from the world. He never showed his true self. He hid his identity and the man he was behind a piece of cloth.

Now that it was just him and the dog, he didn't have to cover his face.... And although sometimes in the morning he was looking for a black mask on the nightstand out of habit, he got used to the pleasant feeling of air on the skin of his face. If necessary, he placed a few masks here and there. Just in case someone, somehow showed up in his town.

Now, standing in the pantry with his heart pounding, he unhesitatingly reaches to the back of one of the shelves where he hid the alcohol.

He purposely hid the bottles in the back of the cabinets behind other things so that every time he looks here, he won't notice the colorful bottles at all.

So that nothing would tempt him.

Pulling out a bottle of bourbon, he moved the cans of food and didn't hesitate. He feels that if he does not immediately drown his sadness in a glass of amber drink, he will not be able to bear the pain of another loss. Looking at the label, he smiles to himself. Pappy Van Winkle's Family Reserve 15 years 107 proof*. Searching the homes of these rich people had some benefits. Rich motherfuckers who didn't know what to do with their money bought everything expensive. The more zeros in a line, the better.

When he returns to the office, he doesn't even look at the surveillance system.

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Day 731

Ghost

He lost himself. He drank himself unconscious. It was long after sunrise, it is even after noon.

“Dammit”

Ghost mutters, slowly getting up from the chair he fell asleep in a few hours earlier.

He should have been looking for the dog since dawn. He shouldn't give up. He shouldn't lose hope. However, when he lost sight of the dog, something inside him broke. It reminded him too much of the previous two times he'd lost loved ones. He lost control again. Something thwarted his plan. He lost his stability. Monotony, life according to plan.

Barely walking, tripping over his feet and knocking several things off the dresser, he reaches the bathroom. He doesn't care about anything anymore. Everything is the same to him.

When rinsing her face with water, he does not look at her reflection in the mirror. He can't look into his own eyes. Again, he directs his steps to the pantry. To get another bottle. Ghost has already lost count, another bottle to forget.

It didn't matter. It's just that nothing makes sense anymore.

Wobbling on his feet, he returns to the small room, sits in the chair at the desk and takes a few sips straight from the bottle. Regret - he finally feels it. Another sip. Drown, drown. And he only hopes that alcohol will soothe this feeling, that it will help him fill the void he feels after Riley's disappearance.

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Day 732

Ghost

Another day of drinking. Once he touched his lips and felt a sharp substance with his tongue. And he fell into a trance again. It was hard to break out of it. Constant drinking. Vicious circle. Another bottle and another. Let it burn, sting, hurt. Just to feel something. Physically.

Finally, as if something was calling to him, he struggled to get up from the chair and dragged the body to the kitchen, he decided he had to do something. Anything other than just sitting here. With a lot of thinking, wondering, blaming. He's not a victim, he's not. He has to look for the dog. Keep going. He can't show weakness. Even before himself. He felt a little embarrassed. That he gave up again. Too quick and easy. He looks at the mess he probably left behind the night he drunkenly tried to make himself something to eat.

“I'll deal with it later,” he muttered, heading towards the dressing room. Trying to keep his balance, he stops in the hall, next to the small surveillance room, and freezes.

One screen was active. Detected movement.

"Fuck..." Ghost is angry with himself, pissed off. That he hadn't thought about sitting in front of the screens and looking at the city earlier. But now wasn't the time to blame himself or dwell on the situation. He must finally take action.

Looking at the screen, the soldier can't believe his eyes. He not only sees his beloved dog on the screen. Who slowly walks through one of the streets. In the live footage, he sees a figure walking.

Person.

Alive.

Without thinking, he quickly runs to his room to change and grab his gun. It's definitely an ambush. No one in their right mind would wander in the middle of the street in a strange city in the middle of the day. With a dog by my side.

Bait.

Surely the rest of the group was waiting somewhere outside the city or on the roofs of buildings. He has to do something, he has to get Riley back. Adrenaline stimulates his body, his thoughts flow in one direction. Bring Riley home. Punish those who had the nerve to steal his dog.

He had never driven under the influence of alcohol, but he had no choice. It would take him too long to walk downtown, and he couldn't let the intruders get any closer to his house. Or worse, they'll leave town with his dog.

Besides, the only danger in driving a car in such an environment was himself. And he doesn't care about his own health and life.

Before leaving, he checks the camera again, the figure slowly approaches the City Hall building.

"Easy target" Ghost smiled, plenty of space to capture. He loads his gun and runs out the door as fast as he can, his fingers firmly wrapped around the sniper rifle.

While driving through the city streets, he tries to focus on driving straight, but at the same time he is constantly looking around for a potential threat. It definitely has to be a larger group, Ghost is expecting several people. To his surprise, however, he doesn't notice anything unusual.

Finally he stops and he leaves the car a few blocks from the town hall and starts walking towards it. He hopes he's not late. That the intruder and his dog hadn't moved too far.

There were rather low buildings near the town hall, so a block earlier he turned left and headed to one of the skyscrapers, from where he would have a better view. A better place to attack. However, there is no time to enter it. He freezes in place because he hears Riley barking and then a human voice. A woman's voice.

“Shit…”

He muttered through his teeth. Of course he might have expected a group of travellers to send a woman or a child out to scout. To stir up sympathy only to have someone lose their guard.

He has to play it differently. He looks around the street and decides to enter the restaurant on the corner, remembering that there is a passage inside and he will have a perfect view of the street where the town hall was located. As he walks through the abandoned building, he mentally curses himself for drinking so much. Adrenaline helps him focus and stay upright, but he fears what will happen if he ends up having to aim his gun. When he reaches the storefront overlooking City Hall, he freezes.

Woman pets Riley tenderly and happily says something to him.

Dog seemed to sense his presence because it sits on its hind legs and looks towards the building where the soldier is.

Without thinking, Ghost raises his gun and takes aim.

He must get the dog back and show the strange travelers that they cannot take what is his. That he is in charge.

Fractions of seconds. Ghost pulls the trigger, shoots. The woman falls forward. Without even realizing the threat standing in the dark building in front of her. She falls, but not from the shot. There is not a single drop of blood. No screaming in pain.

It was Riley who pulled her over. He saved her. He protected her from the bullet.

Assessing the situation, Ghost quickly leaves the building and continues to aim his gun at the lying woman.

He didn't expect this development, of all the possible scenarios that went through his head. He did not foresee, despite years spent on the battlefield, reading thousands of training materials.

That the dog would be against him and protect some random stranger.

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Day 732

You

Everything happens so fast that it is impossible to rationally connect the facts: the shot, Riley pulling the leash and the fall. So much, in a split second.

But the only thing that is echoing in your head right now is whether or not Riley is okay.

So you don't notice the massive, tall and masked figure slowly walking towards you... The first thing you should do is check the condition of the dog. Riley. That's all that matters to you. You sit on your lap and look closely at the dog.

“Riley, oh boy, are you okay? Show yourself".

You check the dog, and after making sure that the dog is alright, you find no trace of blood or the slightest injury. Relieved, you slowly get back to your feet. Straightening up, you finally see with horror the figure standing in front of you who wanted to shoot you a moment ago. And now it's starting to dawn on you what just happened. What is really happening and that you are in great danger. You open your mouth and then close it, repeating this action several times, you want to say something. But what can you say at a time like this? No words come out of your throat.

“Stand where you're standing and let go of the leash”

The masked man growls lowly, slowly turning his gaze from you to the dog, slowly stepping closer to the two of you.

“Raise your hands above your head and don't move.”

You shiver with fear, chills running through your body. The sound of a man's low voice, any human voice other than yours after many months. Weird feeling. Irrational.

After a while, you finally recover and slowly raise your hands.

“Let go of damn leash!”

You look at the man with fear. It occurs to you that this must be the same man who left the letter on the tower. Anyone else could be masked and not call themselves Ghost. He was tall, well built. He was dressed in tactical gear, a bulletproof vest and... a mask. This was no ordinary balaclava. A skull was attached to the material. The front part, with a fragment of the upper jaw, eye sockets, and forehead. It must have been a human skull. You involuntarily shiver harder in fear, trying to take a deeper breath. This was not what meeting another human being was supposed to be like. This wasn't what you expected.

Ghost will raise his gun higher, still pointing it at you.

“Riley. Heel.., come here"

He calls to the dog, breaking the terrible, prolonged silence. The confused dog stands up and takes one step towards the soldier. But he doesn't go any further.

“This… this dog is mine”

The words finally fall out of you, you muster up your courage and whisper, keeping your eyes on the man

“Don't take him away from me. Not again.”

“Your dog? I think you've got something wrong"

Ghost growled, clearly annoyed. His arm muscles visibly tense, this entire exchange makes no sense to him. Waste of time.

"Y-yes, he's mine..."

You start to say, trying to control the emotions you're feeling. You slowly lower your hands.

“I can prove it. Just let me”

Regardless of the fact that the gun is constantly pointed at you, you have to prove it to him and keep the dog with you. No matter what, at any cost. You want to reach into your backpack and take out that old worn-out photo that you still carry with you to this day. One of the few souvenirs you have kept from your past life.

“Hands up, damn it, I'm not playing any games. Give the dog back and leave town."

Ghost shouts, you can see that he is becoming more and more irritated by your behavior.

“You can take everything you find and leave my city. Riley stays where he belongs - with me."

You shake your head negatively, swallowing the lump in your throat, trying not to cry

“No, the dog is mine.”

“Oh, damn it, I don't have all day for unnecessary discussions. Tell your people not to come back here again. Or at least have the courage to show up in person and not send a woman. Pathetic".

As he says this, he finally lowers the gun and pats his thigh, trying to get the dog's attention.

“Riley! Heel!”

Thinking little, or probably not thinking at all, you reached into your backpack and opened the zipper, looking for a photo.

“Dammit, kid, you don't understand what I'm telling you. Leave the dog and fuck off."

You don't care anymore, if you were to leave this city without your dog, you'd rather die here. Now, at this moment.

You take out the photo, which you have carefully secured to prevent any further damage. You raise your hand, holding the photo, and try to stop it from shaking. Despite your emotions, you calmly say to masked man

"Look, this is my dog. Mine. Look, Riley's missing a piece of his ear. You see? Dog in this photo doesn't have it either…”

The man hesitates for a moment, but decides to approach and take a closer look at the photo in your hand.

“That doesn't prove anything,” Ghost starts to say, but you interrupt him

"What do you mean? How many dogs of this breed have such a wound? How many have a black collar with an engraving on the back, with the exact name and phone number?"

As you say this, you state what is written on his collar

“You could take this off him and read it.”

"How do I know there's something written inside?"

There was silence. Another long, tiring one. You looked at each other without saying a word.

The man was taller than you and towered over you, his broad frame creating a shadow above you, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked at you. As if he was trying to read what was going on in your head.

You feel a little dizzy. The whole situation was so strange, so surreal. This wasn't what my first conversation with another human being in two years was supposed to look like. This wasn't how the first meeting was supposed to go. At least it wasn't what you imagined.

There's something wrong with the man across from you. Weird, dark, terrifying. His attitude irritates you and something inside you finally breaks. You explode.

“Ghost, listen…”

You started, raising your voice slightly

“I don't know what your intentions are, why you're so defensive about this town and this dog. But I came here alone! ALONE! I haven't seen a living person in two fucking years. I don't understand what kind of travelers you're talking about and why you don't want to admit that this dog is mine. But... but I don't want to leave, not after finding Riley."

When you say this, you look at the dog that sat between you and the soldier. Riley lay down, as if he was also tired of all the strange interaction between two people he knew, through which he was confused.

Ghost remains silent, never taking his eyes off you, as if wondering what to do. Pros and cons.

Finally, the sound of the watch interrupts his persistent gaze, and the man sighs loudly, as if resigned, and says

“Let's just say… I believe you. Temporarily”

The man secures the gun and hangs it on his shoulder. Seeing this, an involuntary smile appears on your face.

“Come on, kid, it's late. We have to go”

Ghost points to the sun, which is slowly starting to hide behind the buildings

"We'll finish this conversation somewhere else. Come on, both of you."

He waves his hand and points in the direction to go.

“Go ahead, I'll watch your back.”

The walk to the car doesn't take long, and you're glad that you won't have to walk another distance on your still scarred and aching legs.

"No way!"

You scream in shock when you see a large, dark pickup truck parked in the cul-de-sac.

“You have a working car! I couldn't find..."

Standing at the passenger door, a man interrupts you, stands next to the trunk and you open the hatch

“Riley, get in. You sit in the back too”

He points to the trunk of the pickup truck

"What? Are you kidding me?"

This man was behaving absurdly. You guess that years of loneliness made him unable to behave socially. He forgot what it was like to interact with another living person.

“Just. Get. In. And don't whine unless you want to walk to the tower. You know the way.”

The man looked at you without blinking.

“To the tower? Why are we going to the tower?”

You say in disbelief, letting go of another exchange of words, slowly climbing into the trunk and sitting down next to the dog. Ghost closes the trunk, making sure the dog is safe, and gets behind the wheel.

“We need to visit your companions. Since they're not in town, they're probably waiting for you there. You know my name, so you must have read the letter.”

As the car starts moving, you start to wonder if you did the right thing by getting into the trunk. Letting a stranger take you away, God knows where. There was something wrong with this man. He thought Riley was his and that you weren't coming to town on your own. Maybe he too, like you, has been living alone all these months. And he clearly couldn't cope with it. You hug the dog, just hoping that when you reach the tower, the man will finally believe you and let you stay.

Nevertheless, you did not want to be left on your own again. Only now did you feel how much you missed another living person. How much you needed to feel someone's presence. To know that you were not meant to live in isolation. You felt that the burden that had stuck with you through those many sleepless, weeping nights had finally fallen from your shoulders.

Maybe it was destiny. This was your fate.

So, you accept it already.

Even if from now on, you will have to live with this strange, mysterious man in a mask.

taglist:

@leviathanleva @chocolate-noodles @vmaxis @poohkie90 @ghostlythots @nobodys-coffee @famouscattale @youdontneedtoknow1226 @pimpinsins @justguessfan @novasilvae @pausbirudanlumbalumba @ella2497

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #cod #ghost #call of duty fanfic #cod au #ghost x reader

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kriffingstars · 7 months

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Johnny MacTavish; the warning

pairing: Johnny MacTavish x Price!Reader summary: Price very kindly tells Johnny you're off limits warnings: verrrrrry slight age gap (I imagine reader to be around 20, Johnny is 26) a/n: Once again thank you anon! I have so many ideas swirling around, including the first time that Reader and Johnny break their promise. Keep the asks coming :)

Price's Niece Masterlist

Price and Soap are sat in the pub, later that evening, when you're brought up again.

"Dinnae tell me you had a niece," he chides, as he lifts his pint up to his lips.

"It never came up, she only moved in a few months ago, but it's good. House isn't left empty, and it saves her a bit of money."

Price smiles as he thinks of her. It's not good to have favourites, especially when he has two other nephews, but he sees so much of himself in you. Your personalities are so similar, and he often thinks that if he didn't choose the career he did then he'd probably be even more like you.

"She's nice," Nice. Really? Both men know that Soap's statement is a loaded one. He's testing the waters, and gauging what his CO would think if he tried anything on with you.

Price stiffens slightly and gives him a look he knows all too well. It's the look he gives him, and sometimes the other lads, when they're being a bit out of line and joking around a bit too much.

"Don't go getting any ideas," he grumbles a bit as he tightens his grip on his glass.

Before the two of them left, he could already see something potentially brewing. The two of you had clicked straight away, the banter between the two of you toeing the line between friendly jives and flirting.

It was frustrating, he rarely sees you come out of your shell so quickly with anyone, and Soap was easily bringing out the more confident side of you he adored so much.

"I don't want her mixed up with any of this," he adds, gesturing his hand between the two of them.

"It's bad enough when I go away, I don't want her putting her life on hold when there's so much out there for her to experience."

Soap knows what he's getting at, his last relationship had crumbled because of the time spent apart, often with no contact.

"If we weren't in this job I wouldn't have a problem, but we put so much on the line, I can't have her going through all of that."

Price doesn't need to spell it out for Soap, the insinuation is there. He can't have you involved with someone in his line of work. He already sees the way his absence takes a toll on you.

He can see the physical stress on you when he comes home, the thought of that being magnified makes his heart ache.

"I get it, really," Soap replies, bringing the conversation to an end.

It's frustrating because he genuinely wants to get to know you more, but Price is only looking out for your best interests.

The conversation quickly moves one, ghosting over some vague plans for when they're back from leave, and then moving onto the upcoming Six Nations tournament.

Soap isn't naive. As disheartened as he is, he truly understands, and after that conversation, he fully intends to leave things alone.

What he doesn't account for is you asking for his number, with the excuse that it would be great to keep in touch, and he can fill you in on when your Uncle is overworking himself.

Price has a similar conversation with you, once Soap leaves to head back up to Glasgow.

"It's great that you both get along, I just don't want you to get hurt," He echoes, he uses that phrase a lot with you.

Always looking out for your well-being, trying to shield you from all the bad things in the world. In his mind, you're still the little girl he held at the hospital when he himself was younger than you are now.

"I won't," you reassure him, "It's just nice to know some of the people you work with."

You jest with him, that now you know Johnny, you'll be able to know whether he breaks the promise he makes to you every time he's on duty.

Don't overwork yourself, old man.

#john mactavish x reader #john mactavish headcannon #johnny mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish headcannon #john mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap mactavish x price!reader #cod mw soap #price!niece!reader

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sagau-my-beloved · 1 year

Text

Death At The Hands Of A God Pt. 2

Warnings: general sagau, imposter au, light descriptions of violence/gore, you're resurrected after being killed (by Venti), not really angst but not really comfort or fluff either

Death was not as dark or empty as you had come to expect...

Was this death? Or maybe something in between—

Yes, that seemed like a better way to describe what you were experiencing, something in between real and unreal, existence and nothingness.

You couldn't think, see, feel, anything, as if you were simply a disembodied form of consciousness, waiting.

For what?

You didn't possess that answer, nor the ability to even contemplate the question. If you had the ability to think, you would have wondered briefly if this was what the characters you played as experienced when falling in battle, a void detached from both time and space.

This state of mere existence didn't last long, or, perhaps, it did. Perhaps it lasted many lifetimes, eons upon eons. It's not as if you would have recognized the difference, no different than how time passed when asleep.

You were pulled passively away, out of that void which welcomed you so, called for you, urged you to stay in its own impartial way. A call you didn't have the ability to respond to, as it simply wasn't your choice.

When you opened your eyes again you were met with something unfamiliar, the only hint of recollection stemming from a strong sense of déjà vu and nothing more.

It took you a moment to regain a sense of thought, of consciousness, remember that you were, in fact, an organic being even capable of having thoughts.

You blinked gently, taking in the scene before you, the soft breeze and wide planes spanning on for miles, the sparsely scattered trees, and the brief reflection of a river. You recognized it, in a way, and something in the back of your mind screamed that you were in danger, as if your subconscious knew of what your conscious self was trying so hard to remember.

It took but a second to move your head downward, your eyes finding themselves looking upon a kneeling form that seemed rather unaware of your presence, despite being directly beneath you. It took another moment for your brain to process what exactly you were seeing and why you felt so stricken with terror.

Oh.

Oh god.

As if having the air forcibly removed from your lungs, you felt the world around you collapse, instinctually bringing your hands up to your own throat where you last remembered feeling anything at all.

The sharp inhale is what caught his attention, what caused the previously silent archon, you had come to recognize as no other than your murderer, to raise his head in an unsure movement of fear and hope.

It was you, oh god, it was you.

The weight of every conceivable emotion that tangibly existed ran through his body, only an underlying inkling of self-restraint stopped him from lunging at your feet. He had been praying to you before your sudden appearance, begging for forgiveness, and what else could this be?

It had been only a month since your "passing", and Venti found himself engaging in ritualistic prayer every day since. It was the only thing that kept him sane with his past actions weighing on him constantly, a way to remind himself that you were still alive in spirit. While your mortal shell may be gone, the essence of the almighty creator would forever linger. It was only during these moments of prayer that Venti felt any semblance of the freedom he lost, the freedom he mourned, so he could pretend, if only for a moment, that everything was no different than how it was before that night.

The month had been the purest form of heavenly torture, and no amount of alcohol or sleep could distract him long enough to even pretend that all was well. His presence all but disappeared from the face of Teyvat, as he simply spent more time staring at one of your many shrines than breathing most days. The death of the creator, the murderer of an eternal god, a curse he alone had to bear the knowledge of.

His restraint broke quickly as you seemed to stumble backwards, creating more distance between the two of you than he was comfortable with.

"Your grace."

Felling your title on his tongue, feeling how it passed through his lips, he dreamed nightly of this moment, when he was able to dream of anything other than you so gracefully falling and the golden essence that seeped from your form where his arrow pierced it.

"You."

His heart fell, dropped down into his stomach, and shattered.

"You grace I—, I..."

Despite his seemingly endless internal thesaurus, the bards' mind drew a blank on what to say next.

What could be said? Was this not forgiveness? Was it not your will to grace him again with your presence after an agonizing month alone?

He didn't know you, not really, not personally. All he could attribute you to was the subtle feeling in the back of his mind, the strange whisper helping to guide his choices, the feeling of being watched over, before his mistake that is.

He knew of your legend, too. All the thousands of songs composed in your honor by heart, the unrelenting chattering of people carried by the wind when your name graced their lips. Every short story and unprovable myth about your existence prior, your power of creation and how you passed that power down to the mortals you created.

He knew the idea of you, no different than how his people knew the idea of Barbatos, though never truly him. Yet, as he looked upon you, past the fear, past your human vessel, there was a sense of deep familiarity that rang out and flooded his senses. A feeling that made him want nothing more than to simply know you, know everything unspoken and hidden beneath the layers of divinity, stay with you always and cherish every new piece of information, no matter how miniscule.

You glanced quickly to the left, thinking very carefully about simply making a run for it, wondering how much time you'd have before he could draw his bow and why he hadn't done so yet. Your body froze slightly at the thought, flashes of your prior life running through your mind and the unbridled fear they brought.

Venti seemed to pick up on your train of thought and couldn't stop himself from jumping into action at even the notion of more space being forced between you.

"I'm so so so sorry. I know I can't begin to repent, but please. I took care of the offender! You don't have to worry about them now—"

While rambling, Venti was inching ever closer to where you stood, trying to get close enough to safely grab on to any part of you and never let go. If he could just touch you, just secure the fact in his mind that you were alive.

Your mind was spinning with all the information, still not working at full capacity, muddled and hazy.

"Offender?" Was all you managed to choke out, wondering briefly if he was referring to your past life.

His face paled slightly at your tone. Did you really, truly not know the reason he was forced to—?

"The one in your throne, the one who took your place... The one who— who ordered your... death."

It hurt him to say the word, physically pained him, as if it was a blade caught in his throat, a harsh reminder of his transgressions.

"I— what?"

Venti had made it close enough to wrap his arms around your legs, clinging on for dear life as he reviled in feeling you, prepared to take any blows from your hand if only to stay there, it wasn't as if he didn't deserve it, and it would be blasphemy to deny anything you were gracious enough to give him.

You jumped at the sudden contact, but it was obvious he meant you no harm, though, that fact was particularly hard to convince your mind as it screamed at you to run away from the offender.

For a brief moment, the Venti you knew flashed in your mind as you felt his hands gripping the fabric of your clothes, clouded your vision with how often you used to admire him, back when this was all nothing more than a game. Just a simple game. The concept felt so foreign now.

You shifted your weight slightly and felt him hold on tighter. It took you a moment to realize he was crying, silent tears adorning his soft features.

What could you do? Was it even humanly possible to forgive something of this nature? Had any other being ever been faced with making this choice?

You had to clear your mind, ignore everything around you and focus on what you now knew. This was real, you were some figure of importance— or at the very least looked similar to one, and your death was ordered by someone who had control of even the gods of this world.

You looked down again at him, how he looked so desperate and utterly heartbroken, how he really believed himself to be the bearer of the ultimate transgression.

Without thinking, you moved your hand to his face, brushing your fingertips against the flushed skin, damp with tears. His eyes opened at your touch as he looked up at you, his hands moving from around your leg to your hand, grasping it tight as he held it to his face. This was certainly an odd form of comfort, if it could even be called that, but any touch from you was nothing but divine bliss for him.

Venti mumbled things against your skin now as he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing again, as if in prayer. He spoke breathy promises of love, devotion, and repentance, of an infinity without pain or sorrow under his watch, how he'd spend his entire immortal life by your side if you'd allow it, making up for his grave sin.

The few words you caught only led to a growing concern. This wasn't the carefree and playful bard you knew, nor was it the caring but serious god who loved his nation, this was something else entirely, something desperate and zealous, something dangerous...

You started to wonder how long it would take for you to regret your inevitable resurrection when faced with an immortal god who would not live to see you part from him again…

#genshin impact #genshin venti #sagau #genshin x reader #venti x reader #yandere genshin au #yandere genshin x reader #sagau impostor au #this has been in my drafts for like 2 months #and i decided to finish it on a whime #so not great but at least it's no longer in my drafts and i can write other things #anyway hi howdy #it's been a second huh #part 2 of me not being able to write dialogue ever yippy #it's finals next week y'all #I'm about to be free

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eddiessluttywaist · 1 year

Text

desiderium

an eddie munson series

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.

pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader

word count: 4,752 words

content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, angst, swearing, loneliness, mentions of drugs and crime, mentions of imprisonment, family issues, feeling unwanted, slight bullying, anxiety, nightmares, insomnia, depression, loss and grief, mentions of spit, super brief mention of alcohol and vomit, very brief mentions of breakups and inappropriate sexual relations (nothing reader or eddie are apart of). i think that’s it!

a/n: this is my first attempt at a slow burn series so i hope it’s good! i’m also trying a new setup with photos instead of gifs ^ i’ve seen a lot of other people do it and i think it looks really cool so! also creds to who owns and posted these photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

Eddie Munson had grown bitter since you last saw him. To be fair, the last time you saw him was when you were kids but still. You always knew him to be boisterous. Adventurer Eddie. Eddie with the weird ideas and cool drawings. Eddie who made you laugh until your stomach cramped and you would cry out that he was going to make you wet yourself.

You didn’t know it as a kid but even then he couldn’t catch a break from the world around him, and apparently it never stopped spiraling even when it beat him into a hollow shell covered in grease during the weekdays and alcohol—and occasionally vomit—on the weekends. He was worn down by his own worries that never seemed to cease and miserable stories of others admitting things they should’ve never said aloud. Sometimes the stories were fun or at least amusing, but mostly just depressing. This was Hawkins after all.

This wasn’t an Eddie you knew. Had someone told you that man in the garage wasn’t him, you simply would’ve nodded and kept going on your journey to find him.

But it was him, and you were positive he was meant to be back in your life. No matter how much it was hurting right now.

You didn’t know why he left at first. It was as if he ceased to exist, and sometimes—when you were all alone at night—you wondered if he had been a ghost. If he had been an imaginary friend, but surely not? He had his own home you hung out in. His own dad who let you guys eat too much junk food and stay up too late. He looked and sounded real when he would scarf down several bowls of honeycomb cereal with those slurping noises you always hated and would whine at him over. He felt real when you would play wrestle—and unfortunately very real when he won and would pin you down while slowly letting a string of saliva stretch down towards your face in an empty threat. He never really did it, but it was gross all the same, and when he’d let up you’d punch his arm as hard as you could.

One day, you asked if your parents remembered him and your father scoffed at the question while he stared at the newspaper, but at least he acknowledged you at all. Meanwhile your mother had all her focus on putting her earrings in and checking her makeup in the small mirror on a wall surrounded by family photos. Those framed pictures felt emptier than the looming threat of Eddie’s spit touching your face.

“Well his father’s a bottom feeder stuck in prison,” your dad flicked his paper to straighten it out again from where it had begun to bow backwards. “And his kid is probably no better. You’ll make other friends.”

You never understood why he was so cold about the loss of your only friend. You’ll make other friends. Yeah right. No one liked you. Everyone made fun of the way you sat idly on swings just to kick on occasion as you focused more on the book in your hands, or the way you’d squat down and give all your attention to a bug in front of you. Either a line of ants that you regarded with pure intrigue because you wondered how they always filed so neatly and did their best to stay together. Sometimes you left crumbs by them just to see if you could watch them pick them up. You’d watch snails and show them the attentiveness and respect you felt they deserved as they slowly trudged along—so determined, you thought. You’d watch butterflies and try to keep track of all the different kinds you saw. A lot of them were small and fluttery with those buttery white wings, but sometimes you saw a monarch and your eyes would grow large with excitement.

You cried when Zachary McKay would stomp on the anthills or teased you about how the French ate snails—something his dad would say was just more proof of how odd Europeans are. They were one of those arrogant “We love our Country!” households with an “I can do whatever I want—America is the land of the free” ideology and it showed in their unbridled and privileged ass of a child. You didn’t inform him that one Spring of the wasp nest that formed on the underside of the slide he frequented. Maybe it was mean, but you were content in silence over on your swing when you heard him crying out in pain one day. He developed a crush on you in high school that dramatically contrasted how he treated you in grade school—and even tried to make a move at Maddi Ecker’s 17th birthday party—but you could only think of the ants and the snails. You turned him down and he was horrible to you again.

You eventually did make some friends, other odds and ends throughout your school, but it wasn’t the same as it was with Eddie. Maybe it was childish and stubborn, but you could feel it deep in your gut that he was one of a kind. So you couldn’t let him go. All those years you ached for your friend who you considered lost. He always came up with wild stories and (when you were still relatively young) you imagined he had become a pirate and was lost at sea. Or became a gunslinger in the Wild West and didn’t draw fast enough. Maybe he went to slay dragons and wound up a burnt crisp of a human. That last one made you cringe the most, but he probably would’ve liked it the most. He loved mythical creatures the way you adored real creatures. By high school you weren’t as naive. You heard about his dad—caught with multiple charges of grand theft auto, a hit-and-run in one of said stolen cars, and dealing drugs. The hard shit. Not weed or shrooms. But the kind of stuff that really ruins lives.

You always thought Eddie had a good home. His dad didn’t hate him the way you were sure your parents hated you, and he had a nice house. It wasn’t a mansion or anything, but they really didn’t need anything beyond a one story and a sizable basement with only two of them. In hindsight, you supposed he couldn’t find a home in that childhood house anymore than you could with yours. Yours lacked love. His lacked a reliable source of income.

Over time you heard about the night with all the sirens and social workers. The night he turned into a spirit that had finally moved on—an imaginary friend that your growing mind ceased to conjure. He lived with his uncle over in Indiana, rather than your small town in Ohio. Even in your mid twenties, he flashed in your mind like a small blip on occasion and it still twisted your stomach.

You thought of asking if you should go to him whenever you remembered, but you thought you needed a sign. What if you showed up too early? And you messed up any possible grand plans? So you avoided indulging in questions about him to your tarot cards or over your pendulum map. On occasion you caved and just asked a simple question: is he safe? It was a yes every time you broke and just had to check up on him, and the answer reassured you for long enough until the next time the concern rose up to unbearable levels.

But then you started getting those dreams. Sometimes they were just memories playing from deep within the archives of your mind. Sometimes they were nightmares of yelling at someone to go away, only to realize it was Eddie far too late—and when you wanted to run after him to correct the mistake, you couldn’t move as quickly as you knew you were capable of.

It went on for about a month before you finally broke. Your eyes had snapped open, accidentally waking yourself in the middle of saying what you had been shouting to Dream Eddie out loud into your pitch black room. You glanced at the time. 11:11 PM. You felt your heart skip a beat before you shoved yourself out of bed. You had to take a moment to steady yourself against your bedpost from the sudden movement making you dizzy, but then you were flicking on the light and digging through your belongings. You didn’t even give yourself a chance to wipe away at the thin sheen of sweat over your skin from August heat mixed with a cheap fan that really didn’t make that much of a difference, and the stress from the events that had played deep in your mind while you slept.

With a shaky breath, you smoothed out your map on the floor where you were squatting, and steadily held your pendulum over the center. Does he need me? You finally asked and watched as the chain connected to a sphere of rose quartz slowly began to circle. It sped up and then began to dart in different directions before finally swinging back and forth between both of the “YES''s on the piece of cloth.

It took a little over a month to arrange your departure from your life in small town Ohio—not that small town Indiana was really all that different. You had briefly been back at your childhood house after your lease came to an end for the apartment you shared with a friend (who didn’t want to renew because she wanted to move in with her boyfriend, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that the card spread you had laid out all pointed towards a breakup). All of this to say you didn’t have a lease or mortgage to tie you down. You certainly didn’t have a boyfriend (you haven’t had one since college), and you didn’t even like your job at the local mart so it was easy to give your two weeks. Your parents were just as sick of your presence now as when you were a child, and were willing to help you in every way possible to get you to just leave again. Had you not been so focused on your end goal, you might’ve taken a beat to really feel the hurt that always came with parents who only came to your aid when it meant keeping you at arm's length. But you couldn’t focus on it and really (for the sake of your mental health) you shouldn’t focus on it. All of your energy went towards Eddie who seemed so far, even if he was supposedly just a few hours and a state line away.

You didn’t have a place yet, which was a mistake on your part for rushing, but you could stay in a motel for the time being. The prices were pretty low anyways and the owner seemed pleasantly surprised by the sudden source of money and company. The lot belonged to her husband who had passed a few years back, so now it was only her running the place. Her daughter helped sometimes, but she had another job to focus on—only coming to help when the older woman was ill. So even though she appeared kind of grumpy at first, she really softened up to you when you wound up padding out of your room the first night and asked if she wanted to play Go Fish. You had been feeling antsy and lonely, and you were right to assume she felt lonely too.

Over the past week or so, you found a friend in that creaking, groaning motel. You did have a bit of a tendency to befriend the adults around you more often than kids your age when you were younger and it still happened now, apparently. A shrink at university pointed out once that it had to do with the lack of guardianship and guidance growing up. That you were trying to replace something that had always been missing, but you didn’t go back to him after a couple sessions. You didn’t like how patronizing he was, telling you things you already knew. And when you asked your dowsing rods if he was sleeping with any of his clients, the two pieces in your fists whipped open in a blatant “Yes!” But he wasn’t around now to make you feel low with his supercilious commentary and his notes that he always scratched down right in front of you. Your parents weren’t around to remind you of how utterly unlovable you can be. It was just you, Martha at Hawkins’ Blue Bird Inn, and hopefully a pleasant reunion on the horizon.

Today was the day to finally see Eddie, and Martha urged some confidence into you this morning before sending you on your way with the directions to the garage. No matter how many times you clarified he was just your childhood best friend, she got that sly look about her that always showed when an adult was all amused about the novice in front of them being openly or involuntarily blind to love.

So there you were. On a mild Wednesday morning in late September, standing before Thacher Tire after a lot of asking around, a lot of time flipping through Martha’s phone book, and even more odd looks. You let out a careful breath, doing your best to reassure yourself with the knowledge that the people you spoke to knew his name in the first place. He had to be here, and even if he wasn’t working today he should at least be employed here. Maybe you could be told when to come back to speak with him or where you could find him outside of work. Would they share something like that? People don’t tend to care about privacy in small towns, that’s why everyone knew (generally) where everyone else was. Maybe if you clarified that you’re an old friend, they wouldn’t treat you as a customer and tell you where he would be.

You were wringing your hands as you eyed the door in front of you. The glass looking in was worn from age and weather, clearly cleaned so people could see through it, but there seemed to be an aging to the corners where the rectangle of glass met the surrounding wood that couldn’t be scrubbed out. It felt like a portal looking into what could be, and you suddenly felt yourself getting anxious with what exactly meant could be. You had a knack for catastrophizing, and spiraled in all of the worst case scenarios until you were running back to your car and abandoning the lot.

“Trust me, it’s not as scary as it seems. Going for those intimidating opportunities is always better in the long run than letting ‘em slip away,'' Martha murmured to you before biting into the sandwich you brought her.

You bought typical fast food that you always came running back to when you were stressed, but she didn’t like the grease. You learned that over the past week when you brought up your bad habit, and her nose scrunched up at the mention of crappy burgers and overly salted fries. Instead you got her a tuna sandwich from the nearby marketplace, and she shared her big jug of iced, sweet tea with you.

“I haven’t seen him for over ten years…,” you sigh, toying with the crackling paper that was wrapped around your cheeseburger. “What if I’m the only one who clung onto our friendship? What if it’s stupid to him?”

“Mm, us women always do hold on longer,” she hummed thoughtfully and you refrained from your urge to correct her old-fashioned view of gender dynamics for the sake of staying on topic. “I still think you should go for it.”

“What if… what if it’s not what I think it’ll be? What if I’ve turned him into someone more fictional than Eddie in my mind, and when I’m faced with how he really is now I just… I dunno…wish I didn’t come here?”

“They never are what you conjure up. They’re always better up here,” she pointed a bony finger to her temple and you focused on one of the curls in her short gray hair for a second before bringing your gaze back to hers. “I still think you should go for it.”

You huff out a laugh at her repetition, smiling sadly to yourself as you look down at your hands and notice the thin sheen of grease on them. Maybe Martha’s right. Maybe this food is gross. You grab a few napkins from the brown paper bag and wipe at your fingers.

“Just think of it this way: is it worse knowing the truth or worse never knowing?”

Eddie had been having a shit day. Actually he had been having a shit week. If he let himself truly indulge in his pessimism, he’d be acknowledging that he’s altogether just had a shit life, but he was trying not to fall into that trap. It would make him the kind of depressed and bitter that made him snap at others and then feel guilty about it—which only made him feel worse about himself.

He hasn’t been sleeping well, a sudden flare up of his insomnia throwing off his circadian rhythm. He thought with how busy his schedule was that he’d knock out the second his head hit the pillow, but he only seemed to be exhausted until he finally laid down. Then was when his thoughts randomly chose to run and his heart would race with the sudden surge of anxiety-inducing thoughts. He was beginning to feel so overwhelmed by everything that his eyes burned with the beginnings of hot tears but he wiped at them carelessly with the heels of his hands before they could become too real. In his mind, they didn’t exist until they fell.

Eddie ached with exhaustion that only seemed to let up when he could actually get a shot at some rest. He ached with loss and grief. He ached with pure misery and painful seclusion and a silent trailer—besides the occasional buzz of electricity through his lamp that he turned back on when he realized he wouldn’t be sleeping anyway, or the groan of the old mobile home settling against its cinder blocks. The upcoming season made itself known through the ever growing chill that formed at night and occasionally blew through every crack and crease of the trailer, making him shiver and pull his blankets up before inevitably growing hot again and kicking them away.

He missed his friends that he rarely saw. Everyone is busy nowadays. He missed Wayne who… god, he couldn’t even think about it. He missed Chrissy who lit up his world Spring of ‘86 just for them to drift apart. People seemed to drift from him a lot. People seemed comfortable with forgetting him and giving a brief call only when they got a pang of guilt at any reminder that they were getting awfully close to leaving him behind. But who was he to drag them down? It was heart-aching enough to live the way he did sometimes, let alone when people acknowledged just how heart-aching it was. Sometimes he even missed his dad, but he always avoided thinking too hard about him before it could sink his mood to a new level that would be hard to crawl out of.

He hadn’t been able to fall asleep Wednesday night until early into Thursday morning. He settled into a deep rest around 4 AM just to be abruptly woken up by his 6:30 alarm to make sure he was at Thacher’s by 7:00.

“Fuck off…,” Eddie groaned out loud and slammed his fist down onto the alarm clock, never lifting his face from where it was planted right against his worn pillow.

He laid there for what felt like forever, but was really only a few minutes before he finally peeled himself out of his spot. Forcing himself from the comfort of his old mattress was never easy, especially when he couldn’t rely on any excuses he made up as a teenager to just flop right back into his bed. He had to get up. He had to work.

He went to make his usual toast just to see there was only the end piece left in his loaf of bread, and let out a guttural groan of frustration as he tilted his head back. He forgot to stop at the store. Grumbling a bitter so that’s how today’s gonna go under his breath, he shoved the sad excuse for a slice of bread into the toaster and then began looking through the kitchen for something else to satiate him until lunch.

He wound up eating what was left in his jar of peanut butter with a spoon after slathering the small piece of toast with jelly. He didn’t have time to clean a travel mug (which he forgot to clean last night) so he took a regular one with him on his commute, and wound up dumping his coffee all over himself mid-sip when he had to stop short for a kid suddenly biking across the road. The young teen laughed at the close call and made his way to the other side of the street. Eddie glanced down at his drenched t-shirt and coveralls, releasing his third irritated groan of the morning while he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling of his van before focusing back on the road and moving his foot to the gas. He focused on taking deep breaths as he gripped the steering wheel and made his way to the shop.

Thankfully, Linda had already started a pot of coffee in the break room which he happily drank and patted at his wet clothing with one of the blue shop towels. Staining was inevitable and it really didn’t matter with the coveralls anyways, but that didn’t mean he had to be damp. Taking that moment at the start of his shift helped with his mood, but the amount of customers bitching over the phone about how long it was taking to get their cars back were steadily draining him back into a surly mood. The most he had to look forward to and keep himself from unnecessarily snapping at someone was the fact that it was almost the weekend—and yes he would still have to work nights at The Hideout, but at least he didn’t have to get up early.

Never knowing was decidedly worse.

You had concluded this after ruminating on it all night—with and then without Martha’s help. And despite all of your anxieties that were just barely buried under the surface, you made yourself go to the garage again.

An obnoxious, tinny bell sounded and a dull voice said from behind a counter: Welcome to Thacher Tire. What can we do for you?

You approached carefully as if you moved too quickly, the depressing gray and beige setting around you—which held far more meaning for you than just fixing cars—would suddenly melt away and you’d wake up.

“Do you know where I could find Eddie Munson?” you asked in a soft voice, and the woman obnoxiously chomping at her gum looked up at you over the top of her glasses before looking back down at the paperwork in front of her.

“He’s in the garage. Is he working on your car?”

Your heart jumped and although you hated to lie, you did.

“Yes,” you said probably too quickly, but it seemed nothing could get this woman to care.

“Wait over there, please,” she spoke in a voice that was just as greige as her place of work.

You thanked her meekly and shuffled over to one of the worn, faux leather and hard plastic seats. The room smelled of cheap pine air fresheners and the potent combination of oil, and that specific rubber scent of brand new tires. The space with the front desk and the waiting area was small enough to be cramped if it was a busy day, but since you were the only visitor at the moment you didn’t have to be confronted by the full potential of such limited space. You toyed with your hands and tried to pay attention to the fuzzy television in one corner of the room, but you couldn’t help listening in on the receptionist’s call.

“…’s a girl here to talk to ya… uh-huh… yeah I know… uh, no I don’t think so. I doubt it. Her voice is different from the one that keeps calling about the Ford. Might be though... ‘Kay.”

You anxiously wiped your sweaty palms over your jeans as you heard the clunk of hard plastic settling back into its cradle. What if he didn’t remember you? What if he did, but didn’t care? What if he thought you were weird for showing up? What if he grew up to be someone who stomps on anthills?

Your head shot up at the sound of a door opening and then closing from the back, and a man in filthy coveralls approached the woman behind the desk. He had messy, curly bangs settled on his forehead and the rest of his long hair was in a low ponytail. He was sweaty and clearly exhausted as he wiped at his forehead and left a swipe of grease in his wake, speaking quietly to the receptionist before making his way over to you. The closer he got, the better you could smell the grease and sweat and bitter coffee, but it didn’t deter you. What truly threw you were the circles under his eyes and the sort of pale cast to his skin that people got when they were fatigued or ill. You weren’t sure why a part of you expected to see an eleven year old kid approach you with a god awful buzz cut and big brown eyes, even after fourteen years.

This was it. This was your moment. The time to reclaim your best friend, and have the greatest person you had ever met back into your life. Why was your throat suddenly so dry? You swallowed anxiously and then parted your lips to speak and-

“Miss, I know you’re waiting on your car to be fixed before the weekend—I promise I’m working as quickly as I can.”

You tried not to cringe at the use of “miss” and looked up at him with wide, sad eyes wondering why he didn’t see an almost ten year old girl with a messy braid in her hair that she did by herself, complaining at him to chew with his mouth closed.

“I lied,” You said bluntly and the man stared at you in a way that felt blank and still despite his wonderment.

“I-I don’t have a car here. I just wanted to talk to you.”

He eyed you curiously, his hands slowly wiping onto an old rag. It looked like it had been used so many times, you doubted it was even picking up any filth on his hands but just moving it around instead. He was clearly thrown off by the sentiment which brought a sort of youthfulness to his face in that moment of curiosity before his features hardened.

“Listen. I’m sure whatever prank you have conjured up is hilarious, but I’m tired and trying to do my job.”

“No-- no, no,” you tried to clarify, shooting up from your seat. “I—I-”

But he was already swiftly stomping away from you towards the back, muttering to the receptionist with a quick and surely rude comment about you on his way. You were moments from being politely asked to leave, you’re sure, but the woman hesitated with a gentle expression when she saw you approach her with glossy eyes.

“Could you please just give him this?” you asked in a soft voice that you did your best to keep even, but of course it wobbled just enough to be humiliating. You could feel the heat in your face and (even worse) the moisture in your eyes so you did your best to avoid eye contact.

You outstretched your arm and she met you halfway with a nod, allowing you to drop the old friendship bracelet into her palm.

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