#i say this as sincerely as possible: FUCK

[killerpancakeburger]

Breaking point (2/2)

SUMMARY: Civilian!Reader, who works as Price's assistant, has a breakdown at work. Soap+Ghost help the best they can. Hurt/comfort. Can be read as platonic or romantic. Gender Neutral Reader.

PAIRINGS: Soap x GN!Reader

Ghost's version (1/2)

TAGS: Hurt/comfort. Military inaccuracies (I make shit up for the sake of the plot). Soap is tooth-rotting sweet.

WARNINGS: Mention of relative in the hospital, suicide ideation, depressive thoughts, swearing.

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

A/N: Very self-indulgent, Reader is going through it and so am I. 🙃Soap is Prince Fucking Charming (very cliché romance tropes). Yours truly suggest to listen to "Strong For Somebody Else" by Citizen Soldier to set the mood. (Song includes suicide ideation and depressive thoughts too, so listen at your own risk).

This bad good boy gave me a harder time than expected lol.

After ending the call, you put down your phone on your desk in a daze, hand shaking.

The news you’ve just been told cannot be real. Life could not possibly be that cruel. What did I do to deserve this? you wonder helplessly. It’s like every time you get back up, life knocks you down again, sending you tumbling on the cold, hard ground.

Clenching your fists, you stare into space, a thousand thoughts disorderly swirling inside your brain, all bursting with anguish, until a burning tear running down your cheek brings you back to the present. You’re at work, your boss is in the next room; a breakdown is a luxury you cannot afford right now. Better bite your tongue hard enough to draw blood than be caught sobbing. 

Inhaling a shaky breath, you take your head between your hands, shoving your fingers into your hair, trying to convince yourself to postpone your nervous collapse. Only one hour left, and you’ll be free to cry your eyes out at your flat. Or on the way home, even. It’s not like the other passengers ever paid you attention the other times you’ve cried on the bus.

But somehow your attempts have the opposite effect, and more tears roll down your face, staining the papers beneath it. As you furiously wipe your face with your sleeve, with a blend of frustration and despair, pissed at yourself, and wanting to get rid of the evidence of your fragile state as fast as possible, the unmistakable sound of your office’s door opening makes you look up.

Of freaking course of all bloody people that could have walked in on you, it had to be Soap fucking Mactavish. Only the most gorgeous man on base - according to you, that is.

You weren't proud of it, but you had a crush on him since you arrived, six months ago. His piercing cerulean eyes, rugged good looks and outgoing personality wouldn’t let you know peace. The mere sight of him was enough to bring a goofy smile to your face, and every conversation between the two of you left you blushing and elated.

You initially thought that this silly, juvenile infatuation would fade away soon enough. Ok, he was beautiful, and he had eyes to damn yourself for, so what? Surely with enough time and exposure, he'd feel mundane. But things didn’t go that way at all.

On top of looking stunning, he just had to be friendly. He made you feel welcome when you arrived. He made efforts to include you in conversations, asking questions to get to know you. He relieved you of the burden of small talk, appeasing your social anxiety, by happily keeping the conversation going on his own, never taking offense when you had nothing to say. He chose to spend some of his free time with you, escorting you back from the archives or dropping by your office.

He was even flirty at times. Flirty. With you.

You could have still disregarded all this; tell yourself he was like this with everyone, that it was just his personality; imagining things would only end up with you hurt in the end.

But then, during a meeting, you witnessed his sincere concern for civilian lives. His righteous anger against unjust orders, when you had fully expected a soldier to obey mindlessly.

This had been your undoing; the moment you knew you were a goner. A severe fondness for him had sunk its claws deep inside your chest and had no intent to let go. It didn’t mean you had any intention to declare your feelings though; you never entertained the thought that he could return them, therefore there was no need for any confession.

For him to be the one to have caught you in this state, it was downright humiliating. Especially since his good heart would make him feel obligated to care.

He was still wearing his leather, fingerless gloves, and some dirt lingered on the contour of his face, like he tossed his weapons and his flak jacket to the side right out of the heli bringing him back to base, and rushed here.

“Hiya hen, brought you the- Shite, what happened?”

His booming voice and cheerful tone fade away as his eyes widen with concern. He briefly freezes at the door in shock before closing the distance to your desk with great strides. You lower your eyes in shame, avoiding his gaze.

“Nothing. Nothing happened. Everything's fine.”

“No offense, bonnie, but yer not very good at lying.”

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to look at him. Staring at your own lap is only going to make you seem more suspicious.

You grit your teeth and lie some more, trying to sound carefree.

“It's nothing, really. I'm just being a crybaby.”

Crybaby.

Soap turns the word over in his mind, unconvinced.

He still remembers that one time when you showed up thirty minutes late to a meeting with the Task Force, panting, leaning on the threshold, the front of your clothes soaked in blood.

 “Sorry I’m late,” you started.

“‘Sorry’ isn’t going to cut it,” Price interrupted before laying eyes on you. “Bloody hell, what happened to you?”

You explained how Private what's-his-name bled out in the break room after carelessly reopening his stitches and you had to stop the hemorrhage with your bare hands and a bunch of paper towels while shouting yourself hoarse for help. Yet when Price ordered you to take the rest of the day off, you insisted on going on as usual, forcing their captain to make it clear that it wasn’t a mere suggestion.

You and him had a different definition of “crybaby”.

Clinging to what's familiar, you focus on the stack of papers under his arm.

“You have the latest reports? Give it here.”

You hold out your hand expectantly. Instead of giving them to you, he sets them down on the opposite side of your desk, out of your reach.

“Paperwork can wait.”

You blink in astonishment at him.

“No it cannot…?”

You roll your eyes at his behavior and get up to seize the reports, but he snatches them from you. You can feel your composure snap like a twig.

“Johnny, what the hell?!” you yell, throwing your hands in the air.

You could remember exactly the first time you called him Johnny, only because it had been such an embarrassment. You couldn’t get used to his alias; sure you had been warned beforehand that some of them were… original, but somehow "Soap" was the one that stood out as the most ridiculous. You briefly entertained the idea of using his first name, except that for you “John” already referred to Captain Price. Only once you tried to call him Mr Mactavish, and as a result Gaz and him guffawed so hard they almost fell off their chairs. Even Ghost let out a cough that was most definitely a concealed laugh. You were running out of options until you heard the lieutenant call him Johnny; you instantly liked it. It just… fitted him. 

From that moment on you used the nickname, but only in your mind. You didn’t have any of the liberties Ghost had and you wouldn’t take them, out of respect, and shyness. Or at least this had been the plan until you fumbled and called him that to his face. The ensuing silence felt deafening as you were realizing what you’ve just done, and you apologized immediately, mortified. 

He just laughed it off; said you could keep calling him that. True, he had appeared more surprised than irritated, but you didn’t want to take the risk of him simply being polite. This too, had been your plan, until he ruined it merily. 

Somehow he must have noticed your efforts to not slip up again because he teased you about it. 

“Not Johnny today? Did ah dae something wrong?”

You went back to “Johnny” quickly - anything to put an end to the mischievous glint in his eye and the rascally smirk on his lips aimed at you. Being the target of his undivided attention sent a pang in your chest and knots in your stomach. Those sensations weren't exactly unpleasant, but it led to an ominous feeling that this was too good to be true, and that at any second this vision would shatter to reveal the cruel reality; so you'd just grant him a timid smile to confirm he did amuse you, but then proceed to look away.

It's the first time you’re pronouncing “Johnny” with anger; real, raw annoyance, as well as animosity, instead of the fond frustration you usually display when he messes around.

To your utter disbelief, he smiles in response to your outburst. 

“There we go, talk tae me. Even if it’s just tae scream at me.”

The remark pacifies you instantly; you lower your arms, defeated.

“I'm not gonna… I don't want to scream at you.”

You sigh and sit back, setting down your elbows on your desk to take your head between your hands, overburdened.

“The hell you want me to tell you? That my mom's on the brink of death out of nowhere? That when she's gone I'll be all alone in this world?”

You swear, aggravated, as tears sting your eyes again, and this time you ignore if you'll be capable of holding back the flood.

Nevertheless you can still hear Soap curse under his breath, Scottish accent growing thicker, before moving to get on your side of the desk, to reach you, dispensing soft-spoken, soothing words along the way. You pivot to face him, your burning eyes and the sensation of dried tears on your face making you painfully aware that you must look as pathetic as you feel.

Your eyes widen in surprise when you see him kneeling at your feet. His hands reach for your face, slowly enough to give you time to back away if you wanted to.

“A'm sorry, ah didnae mean tae mak' ye cry, a'm a bloody eejit. …Can I?”

His fingers stopped a breath away from your tear-stained cheeks. 

At that exact moment you can’t quite believe what he's about to do, yet you nod your head in agreement - not trusting your voice to not break - all the same, the gaping void in your chest aching for any kind of contact he'd be willing to provide.

His warm fingers cup your cheeks as the pad of his thumbs gently, almost reverently, wipe the underside of your eyes.

“There we go,” he cajoles, meticulously drying any wet spot on your skin.

“A'm ‘ere whether ye want tae talk or not, aye? A'm not going anywhere.”

You stare at him in silence, thunderstruck by the scene unfolding in front of you. Never in your wildest dreams you would have expected to have this man at your feet. He sets his hands down on your knees, squeezing them softly, and is looking right at you, encouraging smile and tender gaze, reassurance radiating from his expression. The position allows you to greedily take in every little detail: the white line of the scar on his chin, the breathtaking shades of blue in his eyes, the gap in his left eyebrow.

As you lose yourself into the work of art that are his features, he keeps conversing.

“We should take yer mind aff things. We could play board games in tha rec room. Or ye could let aff some steam wi’ tha punching bag in tha training room! Ah could teach ye how tae shoot on tha shooting range-”

You open your eyes wide as his suggestions turn progressively more violent.

“I have a bus to catch, and that's overlooking the fact that I haven't done anything in my last hour of work today…”

“If anyone gives you trouble, just say ah forced you.”

You chuckle at the idea.

“You'd never compel me to do anything.”

You can’t repress a loving smile. Johnny just feels that safe to you.

He smirks mischievously at that.

“Na, but they'll believe ah dragged ye intae mah evil schemes.”

He punctuates his statement by a roguish wink that wrests a laughter from you.

“You should take my bed,” he declares suddenly, serious again.

As the silence between you two stretches and your smile is replaced by a mix of shock, confusion, and worry, he realizes how this may sound. Flustered, he starts rambling to defuse the situation.

“Wait, no- steamin’ jesus - Ah didnae mean it like that! I’d take the couch in the rec room, ‘f course. Ye shouldn't go through tonight alone.” 

“Oh my god, Johnny, I could never take your bed from you. You must already sleep on the floor so often for missions…” 

“Exactly, hen. This is nothing for me. The couch is a hotel compared to that.”

You open your mouth to argue more, but then he makes an expression that can only be described as sad puppy eyes, even going as far as slightly tilting his head to the side to perfect the impression. You gulp in response, stricken straight through the heart, and knowing pertinently that you could already hardly refuse him anything, so if he begins to gaze at you like that… 

“Pretty please?” 

Oh no. Not that line.

He's now excessively batting his eyelashes at you, which, while not exactly alluring, is both comical and endearing. Hell, who are you even kidding? You’re so smitten with this blue-eyed creature, is there any act from him you wouldn’t find endearing?

“Are you… pouting?” 

“Depends. Is it working?”

You sigh, aware it's a losing battle, and look away, a futile attempt to hide the ridiculously potent effect he has on you, or to at least shield yourself from his influence, if only momentarily.

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“Maybe ah just wantae hear ye say aye tae me.”

Your cheeks catch fire at the suggestiveness of the words. As if the regular rasp of his voice, that felt like an exquisite caress along your spine, wasn’t already making it incredibly difficult to keep your face at a reasonnable temperature.

“You're gonna get me fired, Johnny.”

“Over my dead body,” he retorted with surprising determination, solemnly pressing a hand over his heart.

You scoff indulgently. Coming from anyone else, the hastily taken oath would be preposterous, but Soap has always proved himself trustworthy.

“Let's go. Your knees must be sore,” you mumble, trying to sound casual.

“Wanna make a joke aboot mah stamina when kneeling but ah will keep it fur next time,” he slips as he stands up, way too smugly for your own good, so you pretend you didn’t hear anything. As if you needed any more incitement into picturing him on his knees in a different context. 

You get up quickly after, but he does not get out of your way. You rise a quizzical eyebrow, his close proximity triggering alarm bells inside your head. If he remains near enough for you to feel his body heat, you’re going to get dizzy.

He simply grins.

“Want a hug?”

He opens his muscled arms, smile genuine, almost blinding, like a tacit invitation, and all your reluctance seems to evaporate with that simple gesture. Before you can linger any more on the harmful consequences this lack of restraint will eventually cause, you throw yourself into his embrace. It feels like falling and flying all at once.

You blink at the unexpected question. Yes, implores your touchstarved mind. YES, cries out your sensitive, enamored heart. 

No way, rebuffs your cautious brain. It will only hurt more knowing what you  can’t have.

Your hands close on the back of his shirt, near his shoulder blades, and, pressing your face into his shoulder to make the world disappear for a moment, you cling to him like he could rescue you from the sinking ship that was your sick mind. One of his arms close around your waist while his free hand rubs your back, leaving trails of fire in its wake, but bringing you much-appreciated comfort nonetheless.

“You're too nice to me. I feel like I'm taking advantage of your kindness.”

He remains silent a drawn-out second, and you're terrified you just screwed everything up.

“Yer givin me too much credit, lass “ he finally says. “Ah don't go ‘round base comforting every person I find.”

His tone isn’t angry, per se, but it lacks its previous joviality.

Soap tilts his head back, biting his lips, thanking the universe that with your face laying against his chest, you can’t perceive his embarrassment.

He can’t tell you. Not yet. Not now.

Months ago, he took the resolve to make you smile more; for a while now he started doing his reports more seriously, or even did the ones of Gaz and Ghost, just to have an excuse to see you, to behold the way your face lightens up when he brings you necessary paperwork before you even demand it.

He can’t tell you that he used to consider writing reports as the worst part of the job until you came along; until you awarded him a heartfelt, radiant smile when he gave you his; that he noticed how little you smiled outside of artificial ones you fabricate for work purposes; that when he manages to make you smile or laugh genuinely, it feels like a prize, that only he is privy to.

And he certainly can’t tell you about that one time where he handed over his reports in advance, but you weren't there, so he left, heart heavy with disappointment, dragging his feet, until he heard your voice coming from the room he just left.

“What are those?” you questionned your coworker.

“Soap just dropped them.”

“But… I didn't even ask him to yet?”

Perplexity combines with glee in your voice.

“He's a good boy, isn’t he?” prompted your colleague.

You let out a fond, wistful sigh, before responding, half-joking.

“I know! Such a good boy for me.”

Getting to hear you beaming over his benevolent action was already a treat, but witnessing that compromising exchange? To be called a “good boy” by you short-circuited him. He swore - “Steamin jesus” -, ears burning, face on fire, covering it with one hand. He needed to leave badly. Seek refuge in his room, where he could be free to replay that tantalizing line on loop in his mind. “Such a good boy for me.”

Your heart beats a bit faster than usual as you obediently follow Soap through corridors you’ve never been in before. You trust him with all your heart, but that doesn't change the fact that what you’re doing is against the rules; and those rules aren't high school's, but the ones of a military base.

You flinch hard as a familiar voice screams in your direction.

“SERGEANT MACTAVISH!”

Oops, you think. That's Captain Price, your supervisor, and he sounds pissed. You never witnessed him calling Soap by his last name before, but that being said, you never saw him deal with a kidnapped assistant either.

You've been caught red-handed. 

Your mind begins to come up with plans to lessen the punishments that are without doubt about to descend upon you two, but Johnny grabbing your hand brings you back to reality. 

You lift your gaze to him. He doesn't seem worried at all, if anything… is that a spark of delight in his eye?

He only pronounces one word.

“Run.”

So you run, carried away half by adrenaline, and half by the sergeant dragging you. Thankfully Soap is aware that there's no way you can keep up with him and his training, so he comes to a halt a minute later.

Panting hard, you double over, hands clenching your knees for support, heart thumping in your chest, blood throbbing in your ears.

“Why… are we… running…!?” you manage to exhale. “It's only… gonna make… things worse…”

By your side, he's standing fresh as a daisy, barely ruffled by your flight. The sight would be infuriating if his eyes weren't glinting with amusement and he wasn’t offering you a dazzling smile.

“Because it's fun,” he affirms like it's evident.

Little by little, you catch your breath, throwing Johnny a look that's half in earnest, half in jest.

“More fun for you than for me.”

He doesn't get flustered by your moderate reprimand.

“Is it selfish o' me tae wantae spend more time wi' ye? Didnae want us tae git interrupted yet.”

The line feels like a punch to the chest, stealing the breath you just recovered and leaving you agape.

He takes your hand again with the natural of a well earned habit.

“C'm'on, ah have more than one trick up mah sleeve.”

You're unsure which of the views unfurling under your eyes is the most magnificent; the sunset in front of you that's painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, or the striking man by your side whose eyes could rival the most astounding sights.

Nibbling on the dinner Soap smuggled out of the cafeteria with too much ease for it to be his first time, you regularly sneak glances at him as he fills the silence with tales of his adventures - the parts that aren't top secret, at least. You two totally did not break onto the roof moments ago, no sir.

Goosebumps travel along your arms and any exposed skin as the night falls and the sun takes away the warmth with him. You furiously brush the outside of your arms for heat, and you're about to suggest finishing this inside, when a jacket lands on your shoulders.

It is still warm with his owner's bodyheat, deliciously so. You curl up and drag it closer, your face on fire. Realizing that Soap gave you his jacket without you even having to ask or complain about the cold… you’re conflicted between obsessing over this like a giggling schoolgirl, and feeling apologetic.

Once you more or less got your blushing under control, you turn to him, displaying a contrite expression.

“I don't want to take your jacket on top of your bed, Johnny.” you pout.

“A'm a bloody furnace. Wanna check?”

He asks, cheekily, even adding a wink for good measure. As if there was any more artifice needed to make you putty in his hands.

He presents you his bare arm for the taking, all golden skin, bulging muscles and a constellation of white scars.

You indulge him and lay a hand on his bicep, knowing he won't relent otherwise; that is definitly the only reason; it has absolutely nothing to do with your own desires.

Indeed, he's burning. As you envy and bask in the heat provided by his body, forgetting that your touch is lingering too long for someone who is just a coworker, he chooses that moment to flex shamelessly, showing off the impressive circumference of his muscle. You feel obligated to squeeze it in response, a way to finally meet him head-on instead of passively enduring his quips, and it feels like reinforced concrete under your fingers.

You fail to hold back your laughter at his facetious demeanor. 

“You're ridiculous.”

The comment holds no bite, a smile brimming with tenderness stretching your lips.

“I'll be the most ridiculous man on the planet if it makes you laugh.”

He's leaning back, hands propped on the ground behind him, head slightly tilted to gaze at you, and the earnestness on his face could almost make you believe his words.

Almost.

But instead a sharp pang pierces your chest, right between your lungs, at heart's level. The smile you return him in spite of yourself oscillates between content and heartbroken, before opting for the latter. 

Tomorrow you will ask him, maybe even plead; tomorrow you'll ask him to put an end to the flirting. You cannot bear it. 

But just tonight, you'll indulge it. You'll pretend to be normal, a well-adjusted human being, instead of a broken shell; you'll act like an adult for who flirting is a regular event and not the mental equivalent of a nuclear bomb.

You abruptly stand up, dusting yourself off, purposely ignoring the newfound lack of understanding on Soap's face and how his mouth opened for a question.

“It's getting late,” you state, not nearly as casually as you'd like. “I'm beat!”

You're running away and you know it; but you never claimed to be brave. Really, it is the best solution for everyone involved, or at least it's how it has always seemed to be your whole life.

He escorts you to his room - of course he does. Even if he already picked up his things earlier to crash on the couch, already showed the place to you.

As you awkwardly face him on the doorstep after saying your goodbyes and your thanks, unable to look away yet incapable of making eye contact, pain flares in your torso thinking of him, somehow intertwined with joy and gratefulness for his existence. Maybe your inner struggle shows on your face because next thing you know, he cups your cheek, forcing you to look up, but as the deranged idea that he's about to kiss you manifests in a remote corner of your mind, your brain swiftly shuts off as his lips make contact with your forehead.

The touch is light yet your entire being seems gathered on that point of contact.

“G'night, bonnie,” he half-whispers, as if to make sure his words exist only for you.

He grants you one last smile, small but so sweet you feel your heart tightens.

“Good night, Johnny,” you manage to articulate before sheltering in his bedroom. The room smells like him.

The moment the door shuts behind you, you rest against it, tilting your head back, letting out a deep sigh. Morbid curiosity pushes you to glance in the adjacent bathroom's mirror, if only to see what you look after this evening. A flustered mess? A sorrowful wreck?

Catching your reflection's eye makes you grimace as you realize an incriminating detail.

You forgot to give Soap his jacket back.

#mine #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap x you #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #johnny soap mctavish x you #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #cod x reader #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #soap fanfic #soap fluff #soap cod #cod soap #cod fluff #soap squad™️ #soap quad #WHY THE FUCK DOES COPY PASTING TEXT INTO A TUMBLR POST MAKE THE ITALICS VANISH???

[yanderederee]

Baji with 12 if it hasn't already been requested for the writing event

Event prompt12:

“We’ll burn it down and then we’ll build the world again.”

a/n:using the full context for this prompt; this is JD’s way of expressing how he intends to kill the guys who bully Veronica for spreading false rumors about her… and I want in on that👹

got a little too lost in the sauce and couldn’t find a good time for this as a line of text though; so please accept this instead.

cw: extreme bullying, toxic solutions, murder

Baji seriously had enough.

On the first day of school, Baji noticed your pencil drop under your desk, and decided he’d retrieve it for you in passing. You were so grateful for his assistance, completely over the moon with gratitude. It would have been unnerving, had you not been so sincere.

Usually, he wouldn’t give a normal person like you a second thought. But that sweet smile of yours captured him.

Ever since that day, Baji’s had his eyes on you. You were careful in the way you moved and talked, doing your best not to get in anyone’s way, or say the wrong thing. Soft spoken to a fault, but always kind and considerate.

Baji made an effort to talk to you more in class, soon after. You relied on him occasionally, enough to eventually call each other friends. But your relationship was only began to develop… He couldn’t have known about the bullying you experienced whenever he wasn’t around.

You never told anyone about the extent of your mistreatment. You thought it’d go away on its own— that ignoring it and paying it no mind would eventually make you less entertaining to mess with.

It wasn’t so bad… at first. A teasing here, being shoved there.

And Baji had no idea…

—-Until today.

It was just another school day. Cruelly early, bustling with students who were unusually chatty about the latest gossip hanging in the air.

“Are you serious?! That girl from Class-3?! I never would have guessed...”

“It’s always the quiet ones, I guess. Slutting herself out for attention though? How pathetic.”

“She’s not even that cute, you know Takeru just did it with her out of pity.”

“He told me she’d kept begging him for it! How disgusting!”

“Gross! I hope I never have to sit next to that whore ever again~”

‘Jeez, girls these days are so harsh’ Baji thought to himself in passing. Who were they even talking about? Some girl in class-3? That was his class. Well, he doubted he’d know who it was either way.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Upon entering the threshold of his class, Baji was frozen in shock.

It was routine for him to seek you out and chat with you for the first few minutes of class, before the bell rang.

However, instead of being met with your greeting grin, all that remained was a completely destroyed, empty desk.

Your desk.

His blood was boiling.

That was it. He’d seriously fucking had it.

Immediately, Baji looped his arms through the straps of his school bag, and made a B-line for your desk. He picked it up, and held it upside down by the metal bars underneath.

He wasn’t sure if you’d already seen the damage or not, but he decided right then and there no one else fucking would. It was fucking cruel. And he was pissed beyond measure.

“Baji-san! Just where do you think you’re taking that desk?” His teacher hollered after him. “I’m throwing it away!” He yelled back, a seething rage evident in his tone. If the teacher said anything after that, it didn’t even register to Baji.

Baji had a feeling you were aware of the rumors going around. You were always on time to class, so he was sure you’d also seen your classmate’s cruel defacing.

First and foremost, he was throwing this fucking desk away. Then, he’d go looking for you.

He wasn’t sure where to find you, though.

Possibility 1; you never came to school to begin with.

Possibility 2; you went to class as usual, saw the desk, and ran away. It was a toss up between if you went home or stayed on school grounds.

Those were the most likely possibilities he could think of.

Having finally made his way to the school’s dumpster, he took a moment of rest before tossing it in.

If there was one thing to beware of about Baji, it was his blinding hot rage. He’d practiced composing his tempter while in school. He couldn’t let himself lose his cool so easily. Calm down. He had to calm down, especially before he went looking for you…

However, fate had other plans…

Two wanna-be delinquents could be overhead chatting while ditching class behind the dumpster.

“You mean Y/n, right?”

“Yeah that’s the one! Takeru said she almost drew blood with how bad she was at sucking dick!”

“Poor guy. She probably wasn’t any better in bed…”

More Fucking Rumors…

Baji quickly untied his hair, and slipped his glasses into his school bag. If he couldn’t control his tempter, he could at least try to maintain face.

Baji stalked up behind the two punks, the desk dragging behind him in an eerily tight grip. He soon came close enough in distance to lift it single handedly, and slam it over the back of both of their heads.

Before they had time to react to their sudden assault, Baji just kept wailing.

With both hands, he kept swinging the desk up and down.

When they moved to dodge, he swung against the side.

When they tried to move away, he crushed their kneecaps.

When they begged for mercy, he hit harder.

Over and over, until he began to spin out of control. Wild with disgust and hate, the lies they would have spread were eating up all the sanity he had.

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

Fuck.

Every.

Last.

One.

Of.

You.

“Pl… se…. … op… st…op—“ whispered out one kid, his last words sputtering past his broken teeth.

Wait, what happened?

Baji had a sudden moment of clarity. Two kids, beaten maybe a little more than half to death, laid motionless before him.

Shit, did he go too far?

When was the last time he blacked out like that?

But the rage circulating in his fists had yet to subside. “You conscious?” He asked his begging victim. The poor boy’s crocodile tears were response enough. “You ever, fucking dare, say another word about Y/n, ever. And I swear to god. I will fucking kill you.”

The punks were left there, barely alive.

Baji felt thankful he hadn’t gotten any blood on his school uniform, before discarding of the bloody desk at the very bottom of the large dumpster container.

He honestly felt a bit grateful to those two. He’d managed to blow off a good amount of steam thanks to their insolence. He took a deep breath, and began wandering the school in silent deliberation over where you may be.

Where were you… home, or school?

He’d figure he’d try his hand at looking over the school first. Careful to avoid any of the hallway monitoring teachers during classes, Baji checked every floor throughly.

Eventually it came down to the roof, or you’d ran home. Usually, the door to the roof would be locked at a normal school. However, Ryusei broke that lock long ago so he’d have constant access to the roof whenever he needed a nap.

Running up the stairs and through the roof door, he searched the area. Lo and behold, there he found you, huddled into yourself with your back against the wall. You were crying, not caring about how loud you may have been.

Finally…

Even though he’d been searching so hard to find you, now that he was actually there… Baji had no idea what to do. What to say. But he had to say something. His heart was breaking just looking at you.

Slowly, Baji made his way closer. You looked up when you heard footsteps, expecting to have been caught by a teacher. Yet you were surprised to instead see Baji, holding back a bitter expression. Quick to wipe away tears, you looked away right after. “S-sorry, I’m not feeling really well… could you please leave?” You asked shakily.

Baji pressed his lips into a line. “I know… I’m sorry I didn’t know sooner,” he said quietly, dropping to his knees in front of you and pulling you into a hug. “It’s okay to cry. Let it out.”

He made sure to hold you tight. Though, even if you had tried to escape his grasp, the overwhelming urge to cry kept you in place, clinging to him even. There, you cried for a good ten minutes or so, unable to suppress the feeling of being so humiliated and hated.

“I-I didn’t… I didn’t do anything t-that they’re saying I d-did… it’s all lies…” you sobbed into his chest. Baji knew that. He knew it. Hell, even if it was true, he’d still feel this same way.

“It’s okay, I know. You won’t have to worry about that anymore.” Baji spoke clearly, lifting your face to look him in the eyes. “I’ll make sure they apologize, and take back everything they said about you.”

“I promise, they’ll pay for the things they’ve said and done to you. No one will ever think of you in that way ever again.”

Baji promised you with fire in his eyes. While his expression would be scary to most, you couldn’t help the way your heart beat out of its chest at his words.

You were quiet for a while, wide and doe eyed under Baji’s meaningful gaze. “How… do you plan to do that…?” You asked.

Happy to see his declaration helped ease the sadness in your heart, he smiled, and kissed the crown of your head. “Don’t worry about that. Just know by tomorrow morning, everything will be back to the way it was.”

You weren’t sure why, but those words comforted you deeply. You didn’t really believe he was capable of something like that, but his intentions were enough. You smiled back at him, and nodded. “Sure,” you agreed absentmindedly. “Thank you.”

Baji felt as though for the first time since he’s met you, things felt right. You in his arms, smiling, relying on him, holding him back. This feeling he had been unfamiliar with, this whole time, was Love.

As soon as he came to the conclusion, that he loved you. Something in Baji shifted. A creature he had no idea lived inside him suddenly started making itself known.

How could they do this— to someone so undeserving of their malice? Who would ever dare to hurt someone as sweet as you?

It was an extraordinary wrong that they’d committed against you. One that couldn’t go unpunished. He hated them. Wanted them dead. Would kill them. That was the only way to make things right, he began to think.

“Come on, let’s go.” Baji said softly, helping you to your feet. You looked up at him inquisitively. “We’re ditching.” He clarified, offering you a mischievous grin.

Normally, skipping school would be against both your wishes. However, given the circumstances … You grinned back with puffy eyes. You took his hand, and together you snuck out of the school with no trouble.

Having snuck out to a nearby diner, you both enjoyed each other’s company. You two always got along well, his sarcastic remarks were somehow easy for you to read, and kept you fueled with engaging conversation.

Baji seemed like he could be the awkward sort around girls, but in truth, he simply had no interest in getting close with anyone. Only you.

It made you feel better, feel special in a way.

The day had started off in the worst way possible, but now, laughing to the point of tears with the person you liked the most, everything felt like it really would be alright….

Baji glanced at the clock, noticing how many hours had passed by so quickly. “We got one more stop to make before I walk ya home, sound good?”

You nodded at him simply, smiling wide.

… So why were you walking back towards the school?

“Uh, Baji? Where are we going..?” You asked nervously. Baji squeezed your hand reassuringly, throwing a grin your way. “Don’t worry, just trust me.”

And so you did. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves, and put your trust in the person you liked so much.

Standing off in a nearby alleyway just a few streets over from the school, Baji told you to wait behind as he stood at the alleys entrance, scanning students as they passed by, not giving him a second glance.

Soon, a familiar group of voices made your throat close up with anxiety.

“I still can’t believe you actually slept with Y/n! You sure you ain’t infected with her creepiness?”

“Hahaha! As if. It’s nice not having to see her gloomy face at school anymore though.”

“You’re the man, Takeru! Next time, invite me, Kay? I’d—“

Suddenly, there was no more outspoken foul voice speaking. “Mm? Suiren? Oi! Suiren!”

Quiet for a moment, Takeru could hear an unfamiliar thudding should come from the nearby alley.

Baji’s first punch was enough to knock the boy out cold, yet one after the other, Baji’s fist threw punches more fierce than the last.

Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die—

“Wh-what the hell..!”

Baji’s head turned eerily slow, as he watched his friend get beaten in horror. Blood and hair stuck like glue against his cheek. Before Takeru could run or scream, Baji dropped the unconscious boy, and wrapped one large and bloody hand across his face.

“Shut the fuck up. That is, unless you want to die right now.” Baji threatening voice cut deeper than bone, dragging the two boys deeper into the alley and away from prying gazes.

Takeru doesn’t dare take his chances. Obediently, he nodded vigorously, putting his hands up in defense while holding back tears. Whiling scanning the area for a means of escape once his chance came, he quickly spotted a small form not too far off, frozen and wide eyed.

You.

Oh shit, he began connecting the dots.

“Takeru Izukura, right?” Baji asked. His victim wasn’t eager to confirm this. Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t a smart move. Tightening the death grip he had on Takeru’s skull, Baji shoved him against the wall, and began ramming his fist into his stomach.

How could someone be strong enough to crack a person’s rib in just one punch? Takeru couldn’t help the pathetic yells that ripped through his throat. As desperately as he wanted to cry his apologies out now, it was impossible to so much as breath with all the air being knocked out of him with every one of Baji’s outrageous punches.

All the pent up rage Baji had been saving was finally making itself known. The events of the day began flooding his mind with white rage. The desk. The rumors. Your tears. All of it. He gritted his teeth so hard he could feel a molar chip.

All because of this asshole. Only a few minutes ago he was laughing about your severe mistreatment, and only now wanted to apologize? Even if he did want to hear his excuses and sputtered sorrows, it wouldn’t be honest. It’d have been reactive.

You stood frozen at Baji’s brutal assault. You had half a mind to step in and stop this whole mess, but after catching a clear glimpse of Takeru’s face… you gulped.

“B-… Baji.” You called out quietly. Upon hearing your voice, Baji immediately stopped. Blood soaking his knuckles and face, he looked your direction, an unreadable expression on his face.

Should he feel shame for letting you see him like this? Maybe he should, but nothing like that came to surface. After your call, all he felt was attentive. He waited for you, as you moved closer, looking his victim in the eyes.

“I want… to hear what kind of apology you have to say.” You combed through your words carefully. You felt hatred for him, but had he given a sincere apology, maybe you could forgive him.

Takeru looked at you, warily. “It’s your fault I’m in this position in the first place—“ he tried reminding you, but a heavy fist broke his nose in response. “Try again asshole.” Baji warned.

Your bully sobbed. “I’m sorry! I fuc-cking sorry, okay! I won’t make shit like that up again!! I swear!”

You felt bile rise in your throat. “That’s it?” You asked, waiting only a few moment for a response. When he looked at you expectingly, you grew angry.

“You don’t even remember the half of what you’ve done to me, do you…” you chocked on tears you didn’t want to surface. “How about a sorry for tripping me down the stairs the first time we met? An apology for ‘jokingly’ pushing me against the desk, and flipping my skirt up for all your buddies to see?” You began listing ways he’d fucked up. His face went pale, now under two sets of hostile eyes.

“That so?” Baji’s deep tone only sent the beaten boy into a cold sweat. “W-wait! I’m sorry for that too, okay! R-really!”

But he wasn’t. Not really. He was just sorry he was caught.

“I don’t give a damn what happens to you. Whatever happens is what you deserve.” You swallowed hard, and took a step back. “Baji…” you drew your gaze back to him and his blank eyes. You didn’t know what to say.

But he understood just fine. “Leave this to me.”

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x y/n #tr baji #baji #baji keisuke #keisuke baji #baji x reader #baji keisuke x reader #baji keisuke x y/n #keisuke x reader #yandere baji keisuke #yandere #tw yandere #yandere writing #yandere boy #heathers #writing event #yandere writing prompts

[houseswife]

yeah your boyfriend peeled you an orange but would he fake his death to make you his afterlife? would black flowers blossom, fearless on his breath?

#see house would absolutely fucking not peel that orange #but only because wilson would never ask #academic citation: (‘You would pick up my laundry if I asked you to’ ‘Go ahead. Ask’ ‘I wouldn’t do that to you’) #as for the opposite scenario #house wouldn’t ever say peel me an orange #he would just wait for wilson to peel one for himself and then steal that #if he ever did ask him to peel one it would be for the exact reason all these girls on tiktok r doing it #I mean he basically already did that experiment with the borrowing money thing LOL #but yeah I think wilson either do it as quickly and efficiently as possible if the circumstances are dire enough for house to be believably #sincere in his request #or he would get innedietly suspicious and interrogate him about what he’s up to #probably both actually #I digress #sometimes an act of service is going down with him hand in unlovable hand #house md #greg house #gregory house #hilson #james wilson #house/wilson #hatecrimes md

[ajdrawshq]

hi. in stars and time. is the only game

#for the love of everything that is holy unholy and anything in between. play this game #i say play this game about a lot of things but i so sincerely mean it this time u have. no idea #im not sure if i can even call it a game that was a whole fucking experience #such catharsis...... in so many ways...... #if there werent other people in the room id be sobbign and crying forever for REAL #i never want to play it again bc i dont think i could do that to them . #i could get my brother to play it tho >:) #its been. so long since ive felt like this. which feels cringe as hell to say but i just got out of a college class i deserve to be cringe. #i just played one of the best games of my life. there is a purring cat in my lap. happiness is real and possible to achieve #im still crying . #isat

[stormtide-leviathan]

Fuckmoashies will tell you you’re stretching logic by saying things that are literally explicitly stated in the text

#literally the other day someone told me that it was ‘some pretty far-reaching logic’ to say that #moash sincerely thought that kaladin being dead was better than being in the position moash is now with odium slurping up his feelings #THIS IS LITERALLY SOMETHING THAT MOASH SAYS OUTRIGHT #but no they just wanted to believe that moash just wanted kaladin dead cause he didn’t like him anymore #brainrot I tell you #they have the worst possible interpretation of literally everything he does #and like you don’t need to stretch things to call this bad here! #trying to get kaladin to kill himself is still fucked up! #but at least fucking be honest about *how* it’s fucked up #cosmere #stormlight #moash #original post

[partyinthemysterymachine]

setting the 80s floor vase on its side and crawling into it

i just really have to take a moment and say thank you and give my most deepest respect; my humble gratitude; and say it is my utmost honor and privilege that anyone ever clicked on goomt and read even half a chapter, to all who have read on and continue to, THANK YOU, it’s EXTREMELY humbling and i cherish it deeply to the ends of the earth, thank you for sharing your time with me and my story and all i hope and want is that it’s done with enjoyment and that all continue to see where this nonsense goes because i love goomt so much and it just means the world to me that others want to see what happens to our dearest silent hill losers with me. i’m just. everyone. EVERYONE. (yes, even you!! my silent (haha) readers and all!! i see you and THANK YOU!!!) thank you. it is such a wonderful fucking. truly an honor and privilege. thank you for ALL your patience and support and for joining me in the fog and snow, i hope you will travel along with me and the boys for a good long while 🙏🙏🙏🙏🥚🥚🥚🥚🥚🥚🥚❤️❤️❤️❤️💖🙏💖💖💖❤️❤️🙏🙏

#ches writes #goomt #cries. crying so hard so much so often #i've gotten a lot of goomt love lately and i cannot possibly stress how much it means to me and i really just #i want to show my sincere gratitude somehow please understand LOL i'm genuinely. totally floored and humbled and thankful for everyone #everyone again who simply clicks and reads the first chapter; everyone who decided it wasn't their dig but gave goomt a shot #thank you so much THANK you so much for just checking it out. #thank you to everyone who has left kudos and the ones who haven't and are reading and enjoying it. #thank you to everyone who has commented and interacted and felt inspired and shared fanart (!! i'll never get over this holy shit) #thank you i love you ALL it is a fucking. stupid high compliment. that you've been reading. #and that you've chosen to be a part of goomt's - and my - life. i love that you're here. thank you and may you be in health and happiness #im clutching my chest and crying into my sh map blanket. it was expensive and it was worth it #ugliest fucking sobbing forever. when i say everyone i mean fucking EVERYONE: thank you. 🥚🥚🥚💖💖💖💖🥚🥚🥚🥚❤️❤️❤️❤️🙏🙏🙏💖 #(and to those who are also interacting with my other trash in any way or how: thank you. Indulge With Me. >:3c #Heya Neighbor! and Puttin' On The Fritz; and all the other one shots and Narsty on my ao3.... i see u all. i see u. and i LOVE u. #(and u batman narsties reading Arkham Boys Make Do and Stress Relief.. haha yeah.. u like that shit huh <3 NASTIES <3 <3 #old man fucktown is 24/7. thank u for ur time. i'm having a lot of emotions rn. i'm kissing so much))

[dan-crimes]

Mfs can't understand a blunt mf they always gotta try and read between the lines or straight up deny the words you're saying and deny how you feel

#I just woke up so Imma overshare without worrying abt it lmao #like yeah people should be wary there are some messed up people out there but like #I'm being straight up with you I do not have the energy to keep up a lie and I just think it is much easier to have clear communication #people just instantly assume that I'm up to something or not being sincere they don't even give me a chance #bcuz if they did they would instantly be able to tell that I am just like that and I am being as straight up as I possibly can #people just aren't use to that ig #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ that's why I just assume everyone is telling the truth to me and if they did lie my trust in them would break thru those lies #they will eventually tell me the truth if they feel they can trust me and if they don't then that is their business #if someone spends all their time formulating lies for me then that is /their/ energy wasted. not mine lmao #just like let go bro it ain't a big deal to just say stuff straight up you just gotta figure out the right ways to say stuff is all #ya just gotta be real with urself and sometimes shit it confusing af and that is normal brains tend to just fuck around #situations aren't black and white so you might seem hypocritical but again that's life #the best you can do is show how you feel thru actions when words fail you #and people might not understand you but at least you know how you are and you either accept it or make efforts to get better #~.~ me when I get too into it listen I got a little sibling who doesn't understand lots of stuff like I'm trying to teach them things #so I kinda go into this mode a lot of just like trying to explain stuff mostly abt understanding emotions and that other people feel things #I also talk abt this stuff with my other sibling but they are older so it's usually a lot of trying to figure out brain stuff #and trying to come to an understand etc etc I like to talk about these types of things and I might not have all the answer but like #I try. it doesn't work for everyone but hopefully it can at least help people discover what DOES help them #like it might seem like I value honesty a lot but I honestly don't care if people lie to me that is their business ✌️😋 #like it only bothers me when it's obvious like Oh I didn't put that dish there I put it somewhere else Well buddy ur the only other person #who else did it or like Oh I didn't say anything I didn't say a word and it's like Buddy I know you did it just own up it's over with #people lie a lot in an attempt to avoid getting in trouble and specifically people getting angry at them but like I'm not the type to argue #I'm not gonna get mad and if I do I'll cool down pretty easily as long as we actually talk things out but like I don't get mad often #I don't really mind most things like if you talk shit behind my back that's not my business lmao just goes to show ur own character #like so many things are not my problem and simply show ur own judge of character #if you don't like me simply don't talk to me 😌 it's really not a big deal I don't mind at all #anyway I ramble... I could likely ramble more but I assume Imma run outta tag space soon

[scoreplings]

it sucks worse because i doubt that he even thinks about me once a month but it’s been a year and he crosses my mind almost daily

#i just know SO MUCH about him and so many things remind me of him #i lost two of my best friends because of him. and i cant do anything about that #i tried so hard for so long to make it work #to listen to what he had to say and to make myself good enough for him. #to be a good friend and a good partner no matter how he treated me or what i was going through #and i fucking was!! i was incredible and he was lucky to have me!! #i walked forty minutes each way in the middle of the night wether i had school or work or anything in the morning #no matter what just to make him feel safe #i drove him everywhere he needed to go whenever he asked for it #i bought him food when his parents wouldn’t and i would do whatever he said when i was around him #and if i ever showed a sign of being upset or scared or hurt id just get ‘:/‘ in response and he’d ask me to leave lmfao #hell i got him his fucking job. and helped him keep it and covered for him when he sucked at it. #even AFTER he told me he was dating our mutual friend and refused to talk to me when i tried to address it (because. hello. u already have #a partner we are dating wtf are you doing?? at least break up with me first??) #he ignored me for days but the Second he told me he was having headaches i drove twenty minutes to meet him at school and give him my #migraine meds #i was so pathetic for him eugh. #there is a mean part of me that hopes sincerely he’s struggling without my support. because i did everything i possibly could for him #and it still wasn’t enough for him to be decent to me.

[leclerc-hs]

ex's and oh's - CL16

pairing: ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you and your ex-boyfriend are in complicated territory OR your ex fucks you in the drivers seat of his car warnings: 18+, SMUT under the cut, badly translated french (pls correct me), not proofread!!!! word count: 2.4k author's note: ok I just want to sincerely apologize for my long absence on here!!! i know you’ve been waiting for me to finish this for a while now LOL but I've been insanely busy balancing life with two jobs lol. So I'm going to leave this here. I can honestly say it's not my best work and I apologize for that but I really wanted to give y'all something in the mean time. I have a bunch of drafts I plan to work on whenever I get the chance. Love you all!! pls forgive me and don't forget to leave me some comments and thoughts xoxo

THERE WAS NOTHING that could’ve prepared you for this fight. You weren’t drunk, as promised. Although you weren’t sober either. 

You and Charles were...complicated. Exes but…. still, something more. You would always be something more. Your history stretched back almost forever, and that alone made it challenging to stay apart from each other.

There was a point in time when the aftermath of your breakup made it impossible for both of you to share the same space. It invariably led to bitter arguments over seemingly trivial matters. One such instance was during a movie night with your group of friends when you showed up in a sweatshirt that was far too big for your body, obvious that it wasn’t your own. Charles simmered with silent resentment in the corner until he could no longer contain it. The memory etched vividly in your mind, recalling the knots in your stomach throughout the night, feeling the intense burn of Charles’ gaze upon you. He didn’t cast a single glance at the movie that evening.

“Who’s fucking sweatshirt is that?”

“Already fucking other people, hm?”

As you slid into the familiar supple leather seats of his Ferrari, you felt the warmth of the car hug you like a blanket, providing much relief from the contrast of the cold air outside. In the process of slipping into his car, your skirt had ridden up higher than Charles would’ve preferred, your panties nearly exposed if it weren’t for the sheer tights providing more coverage. Did you really go out dressed like that? He felt his hands grip the steering wheel tighter than normal as a waft of your perfume enveloped the car. 

“Did you have fun?” His tone was neutral, but his body posture was tense. He barely turned his head to check if you placed your seat belt on before peeling out from the curb at a speed much too fast.

Sober you would’ve caught onto his attitude almost immediately. But tipsy you, thought nothing of it. 

“Oh Charlie!” You exasperated, the click of your seatbelt filling the car as the radio was turned on the lowest possible volume. “It was so fun!” 

He dropped one of his hands from the wheel, bringing his hand to rub the scruff of his unshaven jaw, as a deep sigh falls past his lips. He was annoyed—more than annoyed. The sole fact that you left him unanswered for hours wasn’t his only issue. What had his muscles all tight and the permanent frown on his face was the images of one of your guy friends being way too close to you. Too close for Charles liking. It was the same guy that his friends had briefly mentioned weeks ago on his boat. 

“Cha, l’aimes-tu toujours?”  Do you still love her? His friends sat around the table; half-eaten food left on their plates. He didn’t answer the question immediately. But everyone knew, subconsciously, that he did.

“Elle et Nick été proches récemment,” Her and Nick have been close lately. The phrase alone made Charles choke on his water. In that moment, he thanked the lord for the sunglasses covering his widened eyes. The burn in his chest began simmering as the conversation continued.

“Oui, ne sont-ils pas partis ensemble l’autre soir?” Yeah, didn’t they leave together the other night?

He couldn’t blame his friends for the discussion. They didn’t know that you two were still in complicated territory. Everyone always figured you two would rekindle, but it’s been so long, no one knew if it would happen anymore.

So, although Charles felt like the air was being sucked out of his lungs, he plastered a big smile on his face while throwing his arm around the back of the chair beside him. “Nick, hm?”

He made a genuine effort to control his anger. Honestly, he really did try. However, as you persisted in discussing the night, particularly when the name ‘Nick’ slipped past your lips, he couldn’t help but lose his composure just a little bit.

His voice took on a lethal edge as he maneuvered the car to the side of the desolate road. The act of driving demanded attention, but his mind was a whirlwind of a million thoughts. He was consumed by anger, it oozed from every pore of his skin as he scoffed and turned to confront you. Your eyes were already fixated on him, and his gaze instantly met yours.

“A-t-il touché à toi?” Did he touch you? His voice rumbled like a low growl, and the green in his eyes was so deep and intense that it masked their actual color, making it nearly impossible to discern the green hue. But you memorized those eyes. His eyes. You were familiar with every nuance of shade that adorned them. His breath was slow and even as he awaited your answer.

The idea drove him insane—the notion of another man laying his hands on you. And even worse, you wanting another man’s hands on you.

For a moment, you found yourself taken aback, only to fully comprehend his tense posture and the sharpness in his tone. Suppressing any inclination to react visibly, you wrestled to maintain a neutral expression, ensuring your lips didn’t betray a hint of a smirk at his jealousy. You didn’t even need to ask who he was. 

“Et est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance s’il l’avait fait?” And would it matter if he did?

The fact that you didn’t need to even address who he was talking about, only caused him to spiral further. As if you were confirming that Nick is the only other option. 

The car felt increasingly smaller as the anger in Charles grew. His knee was bouncing with impatience as he clenched his jaw. Yes. Yes, it fucking mattered. He wanted to shout until his lungs gave out that it mattered. He began to lose the evenness of his breathing pattern, becoming more erratic as you didn’t answer the question.

“Dis-le-moi et nous le découvrirons,” Tell me and we’ll find out. His eyes traced your every movement as your eyes narrowed at him, a scowl forming on your lips. The lips he dreamed about almost every night. 

The silence in the car heightened, and with each passing second, you could feel your heart rate quicken. His gaze remained fixated on your face, unwilling to divert elsewhere. It was as if he were a predator, and you, his prey, captivated under the unrelenting focus of his eyes.

“What? No snarky remarks for me?” C’mon play with me. Although he felt like his chest might crack in two, he needed to mask it. Needed to be nonchalant. 

The tension lingered until you took a sharp swallow, the muscles in your neck twitching, that his eyes shifted, descending to the nape of your neck. They fixated on the subtle gleam of your collarbones, still glistening with a thin sheen of sweat from the night’s dancing. His gaze traced the gentle rise and fall of your breasts with each breath. He wanted to devour you whole.

You felt your thighs clench slightly from his pressuring gaze. He is so fucking hot. His hair in complete disarray from running his hands through it. He wore a pair of grey sweats and a black hoodie that made you want to cling your body around him as soon as you saw him.

“Y a-t-il quelque chose entre vous deux?” Is there something between you two? His patience was wearing thin. You still haven’t answered his question, and the silence was eating him alive.

You detected a subtle waver in his tone, prompting a softening in your gaze. Your hand gently reached for his face, and he allowed his head to lean ever so slightly against the palm of your hand. It was as if your touch alone had the power to appease the turmoil of anger and jealousy rising within him. 

And as much as you loved to get under his skin like he did yours sometimes. You couldn’t find it in you to provoke him. To cause him any pain. “No.”

The corner of his lips twitched up slightly as your thumb brushed against his jawline. His hands tremble when they reach for you, pulling you out of your seat and across the center console into his lap. “Est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance?” Would it matter? You repeated the question as your legs straddled him. His hands slid around your waist, resting on your backside in a tight grip, so you couldn’t move. 

His mouth formed into a hardened line, as if he forced it to show you just how serious he was when he answered. “Bien sûr que cela a de l’importance,” Of course it matters. 

“Porquoi?” Why?

“Why?” He repeats your question. Scoffing at the fact that you even had to ask him. As if you didn’t already know why.

You suck in a sharp breath as soon as his warm tongue meets with the nape of your neck, trailing hot and wet kisses up until his lips meet yours for a moment before pulling away. 

“Mon coeur t’appartient.” My heart is yours. There was no questioning in his words. “Il a toujours été tien.” It’s always been yours. As those words hung in the air, your breath caught. You love this man. You love this man with every fiber of your being. 

His fingers gripped onto your thighs with an almost bruising intensity, as if he needed to confirm your presence by feeling you in his hands, ensuring you weren’t a figment of his imagination. His nails traced along the thin fabric at the apex of your thigh, before digging them in and tearing them open instantly. You let out an audible moan as his fingers found immediate solace to the damp spot on your underwear. Of course, you were already wet just by looking at him.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He questioned, adding slight pressure to your cotton covered clit. 

You moaned in delight at the contact but did not answer his question. It drove him mad.

His fingers slipped past your underwear, shoving them to the side, and slipping his fingers into your heated core. His fingers curled, hitting the spot you needed him most just right. Your back arched, barely grazing the horn of the steering wheel. Your hands were frantic, reaching for the waistband of his grey sweats as Charles lifted in hips off his seat to help you.

“Oh fuck,” You moaned out loud. The pace of Charles’ fingers had you careening forward with a cry, before he pulled them out of you completely, leaving you shouting “No!”.

“Relax cherie,” He clicked his tongue before pulling your chest flush with his, raising you up an inch to slide his cock right into you. He groaned as your pussy clenched tightly around him, squeezing him so tight he could barely focus on anything else. He held you down against him, letting neither of you move. 

It wasn’t until you fully sat, completely full of him, that he rips the buttons of your shirt open, revealing a lacy ensemble across your chest. He traces the tip of his finger along cup of your breast and says, “Did you wear this on purpose, hm?”

You shook your head, wiggling your hips with a groan. You needed to move, needed to feel the force of his cock into you, but he wouldn’t let you. He just held your hips down as if he was waiting for something.

"You feel so good," He groans. "Squeezing me so tight."

“Cha, please.” You begged, getting agitated at the lack of movement.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He repeats again. A grin stretched across his features at your obvious struggle. The fact that you needed his cock this badly, had him only growing harder. 

You bit your lip as Charles’ fingers sprawled across your neck in a tight grip, pulling your face to his. Close enough that your noses were touching.

“Réponds, et je suis tout à toi.” Answer, and I’m all yours.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me?

You don’t know what held you back from answering before. Because you did. He knew you did. He just needed to hear the words from your lips. Needed the reassurance that this was more than a quick fuck to you.

“Oui!” Yes! You half-shouted, eyes blown wide with need. “I will always love you!”

His hand released your hips, giving you the immediate go-ahead. You wasted no time, working yourself over his cock, moans eliciting from the both of you almost instantly. His hands slid to cup your ass, controlling your movements as he urges you to move faster.

“Mon dieu,” Charles groaned, his fingers dipping into the cup of your lacy ensemble, rolling your nipples between his index finger and thumb. “Je t’aime,” I love you.

The mere utterance of those words had you instinctively squeezing his cock with an intensified fervor, bringing you perilously close to the brink of ecstasy. A sly smirk played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the effect his declaration had on you.

You moved your hips faster, the bounce of your breasts had Charles in a trance before he brought his eyes back to your face, looking you deep in the eyes. “Je t’aime,” He muttered again, bringing his lips to your mouth, swallowing your moans as if they were the oxygen he needed to breathe. “C’mon, give it to me.” He begged, thrusting his hips upward into you as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of his head until you both reach that point of ecstasy you both needed.

His face was bright red, cheeks flushed, as you worked yourself over him in a hurried pace. His sweatshirt no doubt, making him feel like a furnace, as sweat forms near his eyebrow. His eyes were wild, unsure where to look until they met with your eyes. His cock twitching inside of you from the clench of your pussy on him, and the gaze of your eyes.

“Je t’aime!” You shouted, releasing all over him and falling forward in exhaustion onto Charles chest. 

Charles groaned hotly into your ear, his release catching him completely off guard due to the words you uttered. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest as you rested against it. 

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. His fingers caressed the ends of your hair behind your back. The both of you made no attempts to move.

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. You repeat back to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc angst #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #charles leclerc x you #cl16 x reader

[daxite]

it’s always been hilarious to me that for a website that likes to jerk itself off endlessly for apparently being one of the most “accepting” and “open” places on the internet, tumblr sure is fucking cutthroat with telling people how they should/shouldn’t present themselves, how or what they should/shouldn’t draw or create, and what media they should/shouldn’t consume

#it's been like this for over a decade #this is one of the most intolerant platforms i have ever fucking seen #people are genuinely fucking abhorrent to people here for consuming certain types of media or drawing a certain way #or how they choose to identify #i am not fucking joking or pulling up a strawman when i say that fucking 4chan is arguably way more tolerant than this godforesaken shithole #this isn't about anything in particular it's just a general observation i've had for years now #and after taking a break from here and coming back i'm now just realising how seriously fucking vile people are to each other here #it's fucking insane just how detached tumblr is from the real world #i see the most godawful takes on this website that would make any normal fucking person go 'what the fuck' because it's the most aggressive #and stupid shit that's usually pulled out entirely from their asses that everyone here will take at 100% face value and act like it's the #'right' thing to do or say #granted tumblr has definitely improved compared to how it was several years ago but i still see some utterly stupid and awful posts with #thousands of fucking notes on a nigh-daily basis #it's why i refuse to partake or share in any remotely 'political' posts here unless it's something i sincerely believe can help people or is #something that i feel is actually important for me to share #i have so many fucking terms blacklisted so i can avoid this shite as much as possible and somehow these weird-ass posts still find a way #onto my dash lmao #sure is authoritarian as fuck here despite the site constantly wanking off muh anarchy #dax rambles

[l-sincline]

Don’t mind me ranting in the tags just don’t have anyone to complain about this to feel free to be on your merry way

#so obviously the big video game beef rn is the new Harry Potter game coming out #everyone’s fighting over if they should be ‘allowed’ to get it because they like Harry Potter #and of course every millennial ever is like ‘well I like Harry Potter and not jk Rowling so I’m separating the art from the artist and- #-getting it anyways’ my brother in Christ #jk rowlings ideals are so heavily ingrained into the shit she wrote for Harry Potter that it’s no longer possible to separate them #jk Rowling IS Harry Potter. when you pick up this game you are literally playing a game about oppressing a revolution #because a marginalized group in the game (which is already problematic. fucking goblins bro) is rising up against their oppressors and you #are actively trying to stop them from doing that #MOREOVER #I saw someone last night say that it was okay to buy it because there’s ‘no ethical consumption under capitalism’ #my guy #jk Rowling IS NOT CAPITALISM #CAPITALISM is fucking NESTLE not terf asshole British woman #also jk Rowling herself has CONFIRMED that as long as she is making money from her franchise she DOES NOT CARE that she’s an asshole #anyways let’s see let me get my conclusion paragraph #if you still sincerely like Harry Potter in 2023 you’re on thin fucking ice #if you buy the new Harry Potter game after so many people have told you not to I don’t want anything to do with you #if you pirate the game you are still on thin fucking ice #jk Rowling is not capitalism and buying Harry Potter things under the idea ‘no ethical consumption under capitalism’ is just not true #jk Rowling is a bitch and if you don’t hate her you should start #sincline txt

[steddieonbigboy]

Sleepwalkin'

written for @steddiemicrofic april prompt ‘fool’ wc: 454 | rated: T | cw: implied sexual content | read on ao3

🛌🛌🛌

Eddie stirs at the sound of shuffling footsteps and gets jolted awake as Steve drops face-first onto the bed.

"Mhmph. Where've you been?"

"Sleepwalkin'."

"Do anything fun?"

"I got into bed with Wayne." He mumbles into the pillow.

"Wait. What?!" Eddie sits up with a crazed grin, suddenly wide awake, "Steve, sweetheart, that's fucking hilarious."

"Yeah, Wayne thought so too," He rolls onto his side to face Eddie," I, on the other hand, am slightly mortified."

"Baby, I'm sorry but that is actually so funny. What did he say when he woke you up?"

"That's the thing! He didn't! So I obviously woke him up when I, y'know crawled into his bed and cuddled up to him-"

"You cuddled him?! Stevie, be careful, that's the most action he's gotten in years, he's gonna fall in love with you!"

"Fuck off," He reaches across to slap Eddie's shoulder, "Anyway, he just left me to sleep! I woke up to him snoring with his arm around me, and I was so fucking confused."

"How long were you there? I woke up earlier and you were gone but I just thought you were in the bathroom or something. Didn’t realise you’d deserted me."

"Probably like half the fucking night. I went back to sleep after I’d woken up because his bed’s comfier than yours. I only came back in because he went to work and I got cold."

"Is a bed warmer all I am to you, Stevie?" Eddie pouted, "I thought you loved me for my wit and charm and dashingly good looks, not because I keep you toasty."

"I love you for many reasons, including how warm you run, but if you don't like it," Steve shrugged, "I guess I'll have to go to Wayne next time I'm cold. I'm sure he'll warm me up."

"Please don't leave me for my Uncle."

"Well, you better give me a good reason to stay then."

"Nobody can go down on you as well as I can."

"Oh really? Might have to let you prove that you’re the best then."

Eddie just smirks as he slides down the bed.

—

Wayne’s just gotten home from work when Eddie clears his throat and nudges Steve in the ribs.

"Stevie. Don’t you have something to say to Wayne?"

"Huh? Oh, right," Steve looks at Wayne as sincerely as he can possibly manage right now, "I’m so sorry, Wayne, but we were fools to think it’d work out between us. I’ll never forget our wonderful night together though."

"Well shucks, son, you’re breakin’ my dang heart here but I guess I just gotta move on," Wayne gives Steve a wink, "You know where to find me if you change ya mind."

#i worked very hard to squeeze in the joke prompt words in this lmao #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #uncle wayne #uncle wayne my beloved #steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficapril #bigboywrites #mine

[yuuuhiii]

I just want you ᡣ𐭩

includes : Megumi x reader , angst w fluff ending , 0.9k words , kisses

ai’s notes : I luv him sm :((( not proof read

You stomp your feet all the way into the lounging area where Nobara, Yuuji and your boyfriend were.

You could hear Nobara and Yuuji teasing Megumi and if it was any other day you’d be there to back him up, even though he didn’t really care for their words. But today wasn’t any other day, you were mad and you had a very valid reason to be.

All of their eyes are on you and Megumi softly smiles at you. It’s soon wiped off his face when you’re pulling him by the ear, Nobara and Yuuji on the verge of laughing but also amused.

“Ah!—What the hell are you doing—Y/n!”

You let him yell at you as you yank him down the hall and into an empty classroom, sliding the classroom door shut.

“What the hell is your problem!” He grabs at his ear, glaring at you, but his gaze immediately softens when he sees you on the verge of tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong.” His brows furrow. He moves to hold you but you step away, making his stomach drop.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

You’re trying to hold yourself together, biting your lip so it wouldn’t jitter. Megumi’s more than confused but he’s trying to rack his mind of every possibility, just something that he did that would have you upset this much.

“Look. I don’t know what you’re talking about but I’m sorry.” He tries to reason and you look so broken, his heart is beating so fast but it wasn’t in the way he liked.

“Gojo-sensei told me about Mahoraga.” You glare at him and he stiffens.

Fuck.

Maybe he did lie to you about that technique, yes it was a ritual but he never told you that he had to sacrifice himself for it to work.

“You’ve tried to summon him at least five times for me!” You yell, your tears already falling, voice breaking.

He doesn’t know what to say and in a way he’s letting you break down, so you could let it all out.

“Why would you lie to me, especially about that.” You pout, sounding so desperate and hurt that it’s killing Megumi in the inside.

His mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water with no oxygen. You crush him with your arms, holding on to him as if he’d disappear at any second, sobbing in his chest.

“You can’t keep sacrificing yourself like this Megumi, Gojo-sensei said you had the potential to be the strongest.” You say and he finally replies.

“I don’t want to be the strongest.”

Even though it’s a smart ass reply he’s holding you close to him, scared that things will go south and you’ll leave him.

“That’s not the point! But you can get stronger. How are you supposed to get stronger if you’re constantly trying to kill yourself.”

That makes him bite his tongue because you were right.

“I don’t care if you want to get stronger or not, I care about you.” You whimper, your cries not ceasing. Megumi combs his hands through your hair.

“I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me, I don’t want your soul, or your curse—”

“I’d never curse you.”

Your glare shuts him up.

“I want you. Like this, how I have you now, this is all I want.” You say so sincerely, holding his face in your hands.

“Alive, healthy and by my side. For as long as I can have you.”

His heart beat hasn’t slowed down, if anything it’s picked up, but now because your words have reduced him to a flushing mess. His ears and cheeks red, eyes softening.

“You’ll always have me.” He whispers, cradling your face now.

You don’t reply but you kiss him with so much passion, trying to gather up all the love you had for him and he kisses you the same way. The both of you afraid to lose each other.

Megumi couldn’t think of a world without you but he never stopped to think how you’d feel if he wasn’t in yours. Mostly because he’d do anything for you, even if that met giving up on his life for your wellbeing.

When you pull away you both are just as close, sharing each other’s breath.

“You have to promise me you won’t use it anymore, that you’ll get stronger so you don’t have to resort to that, or else I’ll leave you.”

Megumi’s hands squeeze around your waist at the last part, brows furrowing. You knew you’d never be able to but he didn’t need to know that. He rests his forehead on yours, squeezing his eyes.

“I wont use it.” He sighs.

“You promise?” You look up at him, making him melt.

“Promise.”

You lift up your pinky, and he shakes his head in amusement. Linking pinkies with you and touching your thumb, pecking it right after.

“You can’t break it, or I’ll have to cut off your pinky.” You pout and he chuckles.

“Yea I know.” He pecks your lips.

Smiling into his kiss, you lead up with a million pecks, causing his smile to rise as well.

“I love you ‘gumi.” You whisper, brushing your lips with his and he holds the small of your back.

“I love you too, so much.” He says as he nuzzles his face into your neck, placing a peck there as well.

At peace knowing that you were no longer mad at him.

© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms

#—jjk #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi x y/n #megumi fluff #megumi angst #megumi drabble #megumi scenario #megumi imagine #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro fluff #megumi fushiguro angst #megumi fushiguro imagine #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro x you #fushiguro fluff #fushiguro angst #megumi fushiguro #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk megumi #jjk megumi x reader #jjk megumi fushiguro #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines

[teaboot]

Citizens of tumblr. I call for aid in finding the worst song I've ever heard in my life.

I was in the store today when on the radio came a warbling, not-unpleasant feminine voice singing something incomprehensible. Possibly a lover. Every 30 seconds or so the flow would be interrupted by a long silence while her voice went pitchy and repeat ef something along the lines of "business trip, business trip, business trip".

The first time it happened I believe I said "Jesus fucking christ" out loud.

About four of these awful choruses later, during which I sincerely contemplated leaving my purchases and walking out, A woman by the register said loudly, "this is an awful song. Really, it's absolutely terrible", to which I shouted back, "Thank you!"

Several more people loudly agreed, and also thanked her for saying something. It was a deeply satisfying shutdown of social convention.

Now I must share with you exactly how bad it was. But I cannot find it.

Please. The world needs to know

[chrollohearttags]

ENVY | EREN JAEGER • the seven slutty sins series: part two

he’s not selfish, he just wants you all to himself..

musician/influencer au, possessive (yandere if you squint) eren, black fem reader, rough sex, spit play, hair pulling, overstim, exhibitionism, etc.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿

eren never got jealous!

at least that’s what he told himself..nothing ever really garnered that much of a rise out of the rapper. Sure, he’d have fleeting moments of self doubt and insecurity like any other warm blooded human on this planet but one thing that could be said of EJ The Don, was that he was no hater. Others’ problems or accomplishments were of no consequence to him…someone trending higher on the charts for a number one spot? Cool. Just meant that it was their time instead of his. Awards shows? He wasn’t bothered. One man’s win didn’t spell failure for him. And when it came to women? EJ was the textbook definition of unbothered. He was cool on every single one that had ever crossed his path. Nonchalant and never worried with the possibility that he could lose her. Simply put, it wasn’t a problem for him. He was also never worried about his proverbial competition..because on the off chance that another guy was in the picture, there was no question of who she was going home with! He never had a reason to resent anyone..

…that was until he saw you with him!

“Oh my—‘rennn, fuuuck, I can’t..”

“Can’t what, hmm? Go ‘head, speak up, baby. I’m listening..”

he was calm and collected until he spotted you on Twitter..one of the rare instances he decided to actually engage with the app and he happens to see his beloved (y/n) dancing to his best friend’s song. Subtly shaking your ass to the upbeat instrumental in that skin tight dress. A sheer thong peeking out underneath and giving the world a small glimpse of what belonged to him…that tiny string swallowed up by the thick of that ass and plump pussy lips. The same ones that were all but drooling for him at the moment as he thrashed around your insides with a thumb gently placed into that puckering asshole to aid in your pleasure.

“N-no more..you win…I can’t take it..”

you’d declare in haste, but he wasn’t buying it. Or rather, he didn’t give a fuck! Why would he when you couldn’t be vexed to consider how he’d feel? Seeing you twerk to the sound of his homeboy’s lyrics when he was all that you needed? He was the only one that could turn you so salacious..ripping your clothes off as if they were paper thin..that much proven by the fact that right now, you were bent over the counter space where his friend had just sat prior to going on stage. Buried to the hilt on his stiff, aching cock as he hooked two fingers into your mouth whilst they swabbed your tongue. The same one that throbbed and pulsed at the very sight of you..the one that swelled so large, it made it damn near uncomfortable to sit down when you showed off that pretty little body and once you spread those legs to show him what was in between, his tip seeped with precum and embarrassingly, sometimes, he’d come all on his lonesome. Hence why he was pounding your cunt into full blown submission and sincerely hoped that someone would catch you two in the act right now.

“You say that but you keep throwing that shit back on me..take that dick and shut the fuck up..”

those same slender, tattooed fingers that were once hooked in the side of your jaw and underneath you to massage that very sensitive clit, were now cupped around your throat so that you could get a generous glimpse at your face right now. That beautiful face desecrated with fallen tears and ruined makeup. Your melted lace lifted clean from the perimeter of your head as he tugged it to keep you in place with those deep strokes. “Look in that fucking mirror. Look how pretty you are taking that dick..” Alternating his pacing between rough and gentle, fast and slow..all in an attempt to bring you closer to your inevitable peak..one that would undoubtedly leave you in a dripping wet mess. He’d watch you tap at that countertop to concede defeat or even reach back to paw at his abs but was only met with sharp hisses and a demented laugh, letting you know that he didn’t care about your pathetic pleas. Honestly, they were nothing more than fuel for his desires. Tugging your head back to occasionally fill those jaws with generous strings of saliva; slapping you to promptly receive your gratitude.

“Did you think I was gon’ let you get away with that shit, baby? This is mine..this my pussy..”

something he’d instill that empty little brain of yours, even if it took all night. If it took another artist and all of the staff backstage walking in, witnessing you in this vulnerable state. “Now open up. Spread that ass open..I want you to take all my nut…get you so full you can’t go nowhere..”

make no mistake, he wasn’t selfish. He wasn’t even jealous…he just wanted you all to himself.

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

@jadeisthirsting @spaceforher @honeybleed @shamelesshoefairy @calibabii21 @kaennih-skittles @astrokatsuki @bey0nseh @anubisisthebomb

#cherry’s works ✦⭒ #aot x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #black fem reader #musician x influencer au #black reader smut #aot au #black reader #eren x black reader #eren jaeger #eren jeager smut #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x black reader #eren yeager #eren #eren aot #eren x reader #eren smut #eren x you #aot smut #aot fanfiction #aot #attack on titan #attack on titan au #attack on titan smut #cw spit #cw suggestive #cw breeding #cw yandere #cw exhibitionism

[rinhaler]

Thinking about plug! Sukuna saying "tell me you want this princess" and "say you fucking need me bitch" desperately when you don't respond :/

I can't write him anymore in this AU bc every time they fuck I want to tell him we love him but we CAN'TTTTTTT

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dubcon, smoking weed (implied), cheating, manhandling, size difference, slight pining, spanking, degradation, dry humping, vaginal sex, pet names (princess), hair pulling, he slaps u 🫶🏽 ++ squirting !

words: 1.5k

“What are you doing here?” you ask, attempting to close the door before he can come in. He smirks, managing to stick his foot between the door and the frame before you can shut it. “You can’t be here, Sukuna.”

He rolls his eyes, pushing his way inside and making himself at home. You lock the door quickly after him, standing with your arms folded as you watch him investigate your apartment. You can’t tell if he’s amused or disgusted, and it makes you wonder why he’s here at all.

“You really are a trust fund baby. Aren’t ya?” he smirks. “Here.”

Your eyes never leave him as he approaches your kitchen table, tossing a bag of weed down onto it. You stare, long enough for him to scoff as if insulted. And then you look at him, looking right back at you. There’s an expression of his face that you can’t quite read, and the silence between you builds and builds.

“What is this?” you ask.

“Weed. I thought you’d know that by now, you smoke enough of mine.” he says, it’s casual but not quite playful enough to be sincere. So you huff, folding your arms across your chest as you consider what to say next. “Don’t worry,” he starts.

“Well I am worried because you always want something from me when you give me weed.” you sigh. “Like a kiss or—”

“Heard you and Yuuji were arguing.” he interrupts you. “Thought you might need something to relax. I don’t have a motive… just trying to—”

“Trying to get your dick wet again, I’m not stupid.” you interrupt him right back. He looks at you, and this time you can read his expression clearly. There’s annoyance across his features plain as day, but you see traces of hurt, too.

Is it possible? Is it really possible for him to extend a kindness to you with no ulterior motive? It’s hard to believe. It’s hard to take seriously when you know the type of person he is. You don’t even really like each other. You’ve gone from hating each other to tolerating each other for Yuuji’s sake.

And still, you feel sorry for him.

He came all of this way, and you’ve hardly been a good host thus far. You sigh, sitting at the kitchen table. The weed must be his idea of a peace offering, so you shrug. He moves from leaning against the table to sitting on the seat opposite to you, watching you carefully as you decide what your next move is.

“I— I don’t even know how to roll.” you confess.

“… I can do it for you.”

Your laughter is infectious enough to make Sukuna laugh too. You’ve been watching old episodes of SpongeBob for an hour, and you can’t believe how long it’s been since you watched it. You always thought it was funny as a kid. But you hadn’t expected it to be even funnier as an adult.

But maybe you’re just high.

“Sukuna?” you say, it’s quiet in comparison to your laugh. But he hears it clear enough, looking down to where your head is rested in his lap. He nods to tell you to continue, but looking up at his harsh red eyes and chiselled jaw makes you nervous. “Why did you really come over?”

He clears his throat, taking a final drag of his blunt before stubbing it out in the nearby ashtray. His eyes can barely meet yours as he searches for the confidence to tell you the truth.

“I just wanted to see you.” he confesses.

You turn off the TV and sit upright. You’re sitting beside him, and now, he can’t take his eyes off you. A squeak leaves you as he dares to pull you closer to him, so close that you’re straddling him.

You hate yourself.

You want to kiss him.

He smirks at the little internal conflict that’s plastering itself across your face. His hands smooth up your sides, one travelling further to take a firm grasp of the back of your neck. His hold is strong, but not forceful. Just enough to keep you in place and maybe bring you closer to him and he leans in to kiss you.

And you let him.

Your lips lock and you moan as he helps you grind down onto his growing bulge. He smiles against your lips as your mouth opens just enough for him to slip you some tongue. A primal growl rips through him as he feels your warm, clothed cunt rub against him just right.

“Tell me you want this, princess.” he says quietly before kissing you again.

You don’t respond, focusing on kissing him back and getting yourself off like a horny teenager. Your hands cup his face, and you continue to roll your hips against him pathetically. Heavy breaths and wanton moans leave you as you proceed to chase the feeling and carry on giving Sukuna what he wants just as desperately.

You do want this.

Your pitiful display can attest to that.

His hands wander again to squeeze your ass, Sukuna’s own moaning at the mere feeling of your pussy soaking his sweats should be enough to make him feel ashamed. He doesn’t care, though. Not when your lips are on his and your entrance is just two layers of fabric away.

He rests his head on the back of the couch, allowing you the time to tell him. Really tell him how much you crave him.

But you don’t.

Not a single word.

His eyes grow darker, more impatient. Could he be wrong? The way you’re using him tells him otherwise, but he wants you to tell him. He needs you to. A hand spanks hard against your ass cheek before he moves it to slap you across the face.

And it shocks you.

His other hand wraps around your hair and forces you closer to him again. Noses almost touch as he looks at you like a meal to be devoured by an animal in the wild.

“Say you fucking need me, bitch.” he demands.

You can’t tell if you’re nodding on your own or if he’s doing it himself with your hair. But you crumble, for him. Spilling your desire and crumbling under his stare, admitting your deepest shame.

“I n-need you, Sukuna,” you bite your lip. “Please.”

He reaches under your skirt to move your panties aside. His patience is thin, he just wants to feel you. He quickly pulls his cock out from beneath his sweats, lining his thick tip up with your dripping hole.

“Fuck.” you gasp, eyes watering as he repeatedly dips in and out of you.

You screech as he forces you down on his length, and he grunts at the sensation of your cunt forcing itself to accommodate his girth. He’s loud, and he doesn’t care in the slightest. This is what he wanted all along.

This is always what he wants.

He helps you ride him, even fucking up into you shallowly to help hit the spongy spot deep inside that always makes you delirious. The spot only he can hit. Not some random guy. Not his little brother. Just him.

“That’s it, princess,” he praises you, noting by your pretty face and spasming cunt that you’re nearing your demise. He’s not much better, either, ready to coat your insides at any given second. He’s holding off, though. He needs you to cum first. “Let go, make a mess for daddy. Go on.”

“C-Can’t—” you tell him. The stretch is glorious and the feeling of his pretty tip battering your g-spot is perfection personified. But it’s too much. It’s too much to focus on and ground yourself to really enjoy and let yourself go. You’re struggling to take him. You can’t give him what he wants and—

He forces your little crop top up to rest beneath your collarbones, quickly sucking and kissing your nipples between his soft lips. His tongue laps at them. And God he’s wasted being a fucking drug dealer.

He should be a porn star.

He pulls away as you clamp around him, throwing your head back from the blissful feeling as your cunt soaks him. Your squirt all over him, turning light grey sweats dark as you almost scream through the feeling of your release.

The sight is more than enough to make him finish. His balls tighten and cum coats your insides as he finishes with you fully seated on his cock. Sukuna’s arms hug tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he empties himself in your womb.

He slowly continues to make out with your tits when it’s over. His energy spent but still desperate to feel you, please you, hear you in any capacity. The overstimulation drives you wild, you do all you can do wriggle away but it’s hopeless.

Sukuna is stronger than you’ll ever be, and you’ve given him full control of your body.

© 2024 rinhaler

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