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#tag your spoilers PLEASE I'M BEGGING
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I've said it before and I'll say it again, if you spoil Scream 6 for me I'm coming to get you 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪
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creatureactivist · 1 year
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Oh, so Gloob put out another spoilerific trailer for another out of order episode and even more spoilers are flying around untagged?
Cool.
Cool, fine.
Neat, even.
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waterme-stories · 3 months
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I'm not gonna be engaging with Deadpool 3 promo and speculation past this teaser trailer (as is my tradition), but as I'm on a bit of a reblogging spree right now, PSA that I'm using the tag #deadpool spoilers
Fuckin stoked for July let's gooooooo!
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awearywritersworld · 6 months
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i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend
sukuna x reader summary: you persuade sukuna to play go fish. the two of you have a small disagreement (he really can't stay mad at you). he confides in you about his past as a sorcerer. w/c: 3.4k tags/warnings: the teeniest bit of angst. mostly fluff. banter. cursing. aged up!yuuji. slight yuuji x reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: the first section could be read as a brief(ish) stand alone. and for context, the world's shortest frankenstein synopsis: victor frankenstein brings a creature to life using dead body parts and thrusts him into a world he doesn't understand, then promptly abandons him and wishes him dead. alone and regarded as repulsive by every human he comes across, the creature begs frankenstein to create a wife for him too. when frankenstein refuses, the creature is further driven to hatred and violence. series masterlist // masterlist
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"we should play a card game!" you exclaim as if you've just had the world's greatest idea.
"i'll pass."
sukuna sounds listless, like it's quite possibly the worst proposition he's ever heard.
"why's that? scared i'll beat you?"
"i'm opposed to mind numbing boredom, more like."
"you really need to expand your horizons," you suggest, making your way over to where you keep your playing cards. "all you do is read and brood."
"it's gotten me this far."
you don't respond, too busy rifling through your bookshelf. just as you spot your cards, a book catches your eye and you pull it from its place.
making your way back over to him, you drop it in his lap. "since you found jane eyre so insufferable, here's one you might actually like."
he surveys the cover, which reads: frankenstein or the modern prometheus
you take a seat across from him at the kotatsu table and shuffle the deck, while sukuna flips through the pages with new found intrigue.
"what's it about?"
"the dangers of playing god. should be right up your alley."
"your subtly never ceases to amaze."
"i'm just kidding." you laugh. "there's a lot more to it than that— revenge, loneliness, personal responsibility..."
he turns the book over. "it's written by a woman?"
you raise your eyebrows at him. "what, you don't think women have enough depth to write about those kinds of topics?"
"no, it was just an observation," he says off handedly. "you are evidence enough to the contrary."
he doesn't say it as a compliment, more so as a statement of fact. you hope your astonishment isn't written all over your face.
clearing your throat, you begin dealing while explaining the rules to him.
he takes up his cards and seems to understand the game after only a turn or two, but you're narrowing your eyes at him soon thereafter.
"go fish," he says for the fourth time in a row.
your gaze shifts down to his hands. there's just no way. "show me your cards."
"wouldn't that defeat the purpose of this stupid game?"
"not if you're cheating, now let me see."
"no."
you reach across the table, hoping to snatch them from his grasp, but he just holds them out of your reach.
swiftly rising to your feet, you launch yourself at him in a sad attempt to catch him off guard.
with only one arm extended, he easily fends off your attack. "do you actually think you have a chance here?"
you sink to your knees in defeat and sit with your legs folded beneath you. "not really, but i have to know if you'd stoop this low."
"that so? had you believed me to be above cheating?"
you gasp. "so you admit it?"
"i told you i didn't want to play," he deadpans.
"that doesn't mean you had to cheat! now we have to start over!"
he carelessly tosses the cards onto the table. "i don't think so."
"please?" you lean forward, jutting out your bottom lip.
he just stares at you with an air of disinterest.
sukuna can be so haughty sometimes, and frankly, it drives you a little crazy. you'd give anything to wipe that look from his face— to prove that he doesn't find this as miserable as he lets on.
leaning forward even further, your hands meet with the carpet to support your shifting weight. now he's watching intently as your face approaches his, your eyes flicking down to his lips.
unbeknownst to you, sukuna's breath catches in his throat once he sees your gaze shift, though his mind struggles to catch up. it happens so fast that he hardly registers the quick peck you place on his lips (though maybe it's not the speed of the occurrence, so much as his shock).
"please?" you repeat.
he looks off to the side and stays silent, though his demeanor is indicative of some heated internal debate.
sukuna can't let you win, not that easily. you'd be under the impression that you actually have power over him! and for what? some measly kiss?
no, he simply will not allow that. "i already told you—"
grabbing him by the chin, you cut off his words with another kiss, but this time it lasts a few beats longer. your lips don't move against his, they just linger there in a way that that makes him question whether all of the oxygen has vanished from the room.
when you pull away, you're looking at him expectantly with the same pout still playing on your lips.
"fine!" he barks, grumbling something afterwards that sounds a lot like "evil little minx."
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"human earthworm two is definitely still the best."
you're walking home with yuuji after a late night showing of the newest movie in the series.
"no way," you contend. "this one was even better."
he gawks at you. "in no world is the seventh film in an anthology the best! you're crazy—"
sukuna's mouth appears, always eager for a chance to undermine his vessel. "she's right, brat."
yuuji can't believe his ears. "what?! you haven't even seen it!"
"i don't know," you interject slyly. "i'm willing to look past that. it really seems like he knows what he's talking about."
"you mean the guy who's existence predates cinema?" yuuji asks, his eyebrows furrowing as a thought occurs to him. "what'd you do all day anyway? watch plays?"
"..among other things, yes." sukuna answers.
"if you look at it logically," you reason, "we probably wouldn't have movies without theater, so we should definitely consider him an expert in this case."
"oh please, baby. when the topic is ancient civilization or being a homicidal maniac, i'll be sure to solicit his opinion then."
"i resent that," sukuna declares, his conviction forcing a giggle from your lips.
"why?" you question. "was it the part where he called you old as shit, or the part where he called you a murderous lunatic?"
yuuji brings a hand to his mouth to stifle a snort, but you're freely laughing now.
sukuna scoffs indignantly and bites back a comment about how partial you seem to be toward said lunatic. "and to think i defended your opinion."
his response has you clutching at your sides and struggling to see through teary eyes.
but perhaps karma is real, because not a moment later, you step off the curb in a way that sends a sharp sensation through your leg.
you gasp in pain and brace yourself for the impact of falling to the concrete, but it never comes. instead, you're left with fingers clamped tightly around your wrist and a strange sense of deja vu.
you turn your head just before the dark lines fade from yuuji's arm completely.
"tch, watch where you're going idiot," sukuna scolds, his mouth disappearing as soon as he finishes speaking.
"are you okay?" yuuji asks worriedly.
"absolutely," you claim, but when you try to put weight on your left foot, you let out a hiss.
yuuji's hands find your waist, hoping to keep you steady. before you know it, he's crouching in front of you with his back turned and beckoning you to wrap your arms around his neck.
once you do, he hooks his arms under your thighs and easily stands up. "this okay? you comfy?"
"yeah. i can't believe i just did that." you hide your face in the space where his neck meets his shoulder. "thanks, yu."
when you get home, yuuji sets you up on the couch with icepacks, heating pads, three different drinks, two different books, and the tv remote.
he still asks if you have everything you need several times, then kisses you sweetly before heading to bed.
around thirty minutes later, sukuna's leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.
"hey," you greet. your eyes never leave the tv, as you're privy to the slight tension between the both of you.
he skips the evening's pleasantries. "i could heal it, you know."
you finally turn to face him. "really?"
"of course." he rolls his eyes. "some of us can actually use reverse cursed technique."
"and you've just let me hobble around the past hour anyway?"
he shrugs. "you pissed me off."
you blink at him a few times, rubbing at your temples. "well what about now?"
"i don't know," he begins, making his way over to you. he towers over where you're seated on the couch, so you have to crane your neck to look up at him. "just doesn't really seem like something a homicidal maniac would do, but maybe if he were to receive an apology..."
you cover your face with your hands and groan. "i didn't say that. this is really something you should take up with yuuji—"
"i don't make a habit of conversing with the brat, so if that's the way you're going to be..." he turns on his heel and starts for the bedroom, but you grab onto his sleeve just before he's out of reach.
"wait. please don't go."
just like that, your words have his resolve crumbling and any of his lingering irritation ebbs away. he urges himself to stay strong though, especially after the go fish debacle.
when he doesn't speak, you let out a breath.
"i'm sorry, sukuna." he can tell right away that you're being entirely sincere. "i would never purposefully hurt your feelings. i only meant to tease you, but i can see how i was being mean."
are those... are those tears swimming in your eyes? are you in that much pain, or did he just make you feel that badly? in any case, he endeavors to remedy it immediately.
moving around the couch until he's in front of you, sukuna kneels between your legs. he grabs your left foot gingerly, situating it on his thigh before hovering his hand over top of it.
he sighs. "i don't care if you tease me and you weren't being.. mean." the words sounds so juvenile to him.
you weren't necessarily wrong either, goes unsaid.
well, he'd like to consider himself a little more sophisticated than 'maniac' would imply, but that's beside the point.
"then why are you upset with me?"
his jaw flexes as he tries to find the right words. "i would prefer you do that when it's just.. us."
"oh." realization dawns on you, as does another heap of guilt. you know he despises being trapped in yuuji's body, and you completely failed to consider how ganging up on him might make him feel. "i'm... fuck. i'm really sorry, sukuna—"
"stop apologizing," he urges you in a low voice. it's partly because what he just said makes him feel pathetic, but more than that, it's because the look of self reproach you're wearing is akin to a thousand needles in his chest. "it's fine."
he can't believe you're sitting there with so much remorse over a man like him because you... what? wounded his pride?
he probably deserves it anyway.
why should you give a shit when he's done things a thousand times worse, a million different times?
oh, right. because you care about him.
you can't see the cursed energy at play, but you can tell it's working as your pain begins to dissipate.
once he's finished, he carefully moves your foot to the floor and looks up at you. it's not unlike the way a person might gaze at one of the wonders of the world, like they're lucky to be there in the first place.
with the intensity of his gaze, it feels like he can see right into your head— read your every thought and pick apart every emotion. has anyone ever looked at you like that before? you're having a hard time remembering. you're having a hard time thinking of anything at all, really.
so it goes without saying that you don't think about it when you lean forward and kiss him.
it's not at all like when you were trying to convince him to play cards. no, this isn't light hearted or frivolous.
and it's not like the other two kisses you've shared either. it isn't heated or desperate, nor does it leave you gasping for air.
it's tender. it's so fucking tender, in fact, that sukuna wonders whether he's going to crumble beneath your touch.
he grips the area just above your knees, as if needing something to tether himself to before he withers away completely.
his lips move with yours in a way that's slow and careful.
your hands are on either side of his face, ghosting over his skin as a testament to your hesitance— like you're not certain if this is something he would want.
he wonders how in the world you could ever second guess yourself.
when you pull back, you examine his face for a moment before a small, shy smile tugs at your lips and you murmur, "thanks 'kuna."
he just peers at you wordlessly and it makes you nervous, so you attempt to fill the silence. "it feels so much better. a-and i'm sorry again abo—"
his hand finds the back of your neck, pulling your lips against his for a moment longer. "don't mention it, angel."
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ever since you gave sukuna your copy of frankenstein, he's spent a decent portion of your nights together reading, his brows drawn together in concentration.
upon finishing, he stares at the page after taking in the final line: "he was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance."
he's deathly quiet and wearing some unreadable expression. his eyes seem far off.
you leave him be for a little while, as it's clear he's lost in thought, but eventually you grow a bit concerned. it's been nearly half an hour since he last moved.
"sukuna?"
he turns to you. "why did you think i would enjoy this particular book?"
you consider his question carefully, his mood evoking your own seriousness. "it's... elegant and tragic. i suppose i appreciate the moral grayness of it. why do you ask?"
"no reason."
"did you enjoy it?"
"yes."
"why?"
he ignores your question. "frankenstein— do you like his character?"
you can't help but feel like you're answering some sort of riddle. "i think he's foolish and arrogant, but i guess i pity him to some degree."
"and the creature?"
"i'm much more sympathetic toward him. he's very... complex and certainly less culpable for the events of the novel than his creator."
you're surprised when he laughs. "of course you would think that way."
and with that, he's flipping through the pages of the novel. you move to sit beside him and once he finds what he's looking for near the middle, he begins reading:
"remember, thou hast made me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine, my joints more supple. but i will not be tempted to set myself in opposition to thee. i am thy creature, and i will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king if thou wilt also perform thy part, the which thou owest me. oh, frankenstein, be not equitable to every other and trample upon me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy clemency and affection, is most due. remember that i am thy creature; i ought to be thy adam, but i am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. everywhere i see bliss, from which i alone am irrevocably excluded. i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous.”
his voice is strangely even, almost bordering on robotic. you're struck with the notion that he's attempting (with rare difficulty) to mask his emotions.
you regard him quizzically and wait for him to speak. the last thing you expect to hear tumbles from his lips.
"you know they called me the disgraced one?" you nod. "do you know why?"
"i know the story that sorcerers have passed down."
he hums. leaning back into the couch, he looks fixedly at the ceiling before continuing. "i was just a boy when i was orphaned and no one knew anything about my heritage, including me. jujutsu society took me in and raised me as a sorcerer."
"and you didn't care for it?"
"oh, quite the opposite. i reveled in it. my strength was unprecedented, that much was clear from the start. i surpassed my teachers with ease, and eventually, i took to training alone— reading primitive texts and honing skills that they couldn't teach me."
your hand finds his thigh, hoping to offer him some consolation before beckoning him to continue. "then what happened?"
"the men who had been my teachers, who had been the only.. family i'd ever known.. they scorned me. deemed me reckless and dangerous to jujutsu society. plotted my demise."
your voice is small when you ask, "were they right?"
he wants to hate the question— wants to hate you for asking it— but he knows that it's warranted.
"no. i admit i was forward thinking and a bit.. unorthodox, but i wasn't..."
"what they thought you were?" you offer gently.
he nods. "not until they made me that way— not until they abandoned me and backed me into a corner like some animal."
you struggle to find the right thing to say, if any such thing even exists. you're amazed that he's confiding in you, and while it makes your heart swell, you really don't want to fuck it up.
he looks back down at the book, his eyes scanning the paragraph before repeating, "i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend."
he says it as if he's coming to terms with the circumstances of his life for the very first time.
"the creature was remorseful at the end of the novel," you recall somewhat bravely. "are you?"
sukuna thinks for a great deal of time before replying. you wait patiently for him.
"no," he answers decidedly.
looking over at you for the first time since he began his story, he's relieved to find your face is free of rebuke. instead, there's a warm willingness to understand him. a sadness because of the way he was alienated.
he's curious whether anyone would be able to read the sentiment on your face, or if he just knows you better than most.
is that a privilege he's worthy of? he doubts it.
"you didn't deserve what they did to you," you whisper, reaching up to rake your fingers through his hair, nails grazing his scalp before your palm rests against his temple.
his head leans almost imperceptibly into your hand, and any regret or unease he may have felt at relaying his past to you disappears. watching a single tear slip down your cheek, he wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.
he means to say "don't cry. not for me," but the words die in his throat.
for once, your tears are for him rather than because of him and it's utterly riveting. the fact that someone like you would cry on his behalf seems to contradict every horrible thing he's ever been told about himself.
he could sit here and bask in the feeling forever— he's always known himself to be selfish after all. and you know it too, don't you?
his eyes flicker between each of yours, studying your face. "do you want to know why i don't regret the things i've done?"
you tilt your head to the side. "why?"
"because even if it's made me into a monster..."
for a moment, he contemplates not saying anything more. he considers forcing himself to pull away from your touch, even if it's the only comfort he's been given his entire life. he might still be able to salvage whatever tiny, laughable pieces remain of his pride—
"all of my actions have led me to you."
your eyes soften before you're wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your body to his. he returns the gesture after a few seconds pass.
you know he's awful. you know he's cruel. you know that what he's been through doesn't excuse his actions. but still— you want so desperately to take away his pain. to make up for all the things in his past. to wipe the blood from his hands.
as you embrace such an incredibly complicated man (one who is infamous for unrivaled wickedness, yet has his face buried in your hair), you ponder the creature's plea: "make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous."
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a/n 2: if you're still w me, thanks for reading!! i'm not sure how i feel abt this part, so feedback is both welcome and appreciated!! also, how do we like sukuna using angel?? in my head he picked it up from the "my good angel" line in jane eyre, so i hope it doesn't seem too unnatural. alsoooo, highly recommend frankenstein. it's one of my favorite books!! mary shelley popped off and literally created the entire genre of science fiction at 21! anyway, thanks for all the love yall, it means the world<3
taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.
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javigutierrez · 3 months
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Are you alright, Honey?
Javi Gutierrez x afab!reader oneshot
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Summary: You’re going on a long weekend with your gorgeous new boyfriend, and after a day of unresolved sexual tension out on a roadtrip you’re ready to jump him the second you get home. Unless he finds a movie at the gas station he had been looking for for years and he wants to watch it with you. Will you be able to mask your desire for him, to enjoy a movie that means so much to him? (Spoiler alert no you won’t)
Rating & Word count: Explicit | ~8500 words
Warnings/tags: fluffffff, freshly established relationship, pining like whoa, very explicit smut, f!oral, f!fingering, tons of nipple play, non-penetrative sex (sumata ig?), unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, allusions to squirting, pleasure dom!Javi vibes, tw alcohol, tw food mention, Javi is a major dumb of ass but he makes up for it, reader has female genitalia, some boobs, and long enough hair to tuck it behind their ear but no other descriptions (let me know if you find anything else!), no age references
A/N: Here it is, after years of contemplating I'm posting my first fanfic in 12 years and my first fanfic in English ever. Please be kind, English is not my first language ❤ This is a huge thing to me, and I wouldn't have been able to get there without the help and encouragement of my lovely friends - I owe a kidney to @psychedelic-ink and @shellshocklove for their tremendous help as my betas, and to @iamasaddie @perotovar @chronically-ghosted @wannab-urs for listening to my bitching and moaning along the way and still staying my loyal cheerleaders 🥺 The whole idea popped into my mind like a movie while editing this gifset (which was inspired by @prolix-yuy’s Javi story, so special thanks to LJ 🥰), that 5th gif corrupting my mind for the next 2,5 months and this was the only way I could finally get it out of my system. 🤡 I hope you'll enjoy it! ❤
This was quite an eventful day. You spent your whole day out with Javi, having a road trip at Côte d’Azur. After a little bit more than a month of dating you had decided to go on a long weekend together, choosing the French coastlines. You had been absolutely amazed by the experience; clear azure waves embracing golden shores, the streets of seaside towns winding through history with beautiful architecture and warm colours, mountain tops lurking on the horizon behind the town. After Javi had told you he would get you into the Cannes movie festival, you were already talking about coming back for a few days. 
The sights were unbelievable and the food was delectable, but what really made the trip unforgettable was your new boyfriend. Spending time with Javi was so easy. With him, all your anxiety washed away - his sweet and caring personality was like a soothing balm for your soul, and with his fun-loving side, you really felt like living your life to the fullest. Not to mention how he showed his true colors in the bedroom. Absolutely devoted to your pleasure, he could be worshipping you, making you feel like a goddess, other times he would make you beg, then shower you with praises while he was giving you exactly what you needed. Who would have thought only a few weeks before, when​ you had started chatting with a stranger waiting in line at the cinema, that he would sweep you off of your feet almost immediately and turn your life upside down in the best way possible? 
There you were right now, coming home from another amazing day spent with him, laughing with him, staring at his profile while he was driving, smoothing out his sun-bleached locks tangled up by the wind in the cabrio while he was looking at you all doe-eyed and dopey-smiled. You were holding his hand, feeling his hand on your bare thigh, resting at the hem of your bunched-up sundress comfortably and sometimes you had caught him looking at you with the same intensity. It was safe to say, by the time you got in the car to get home you were ready to jump him. 
There was only one tiny thing you hadn’t calculated for when you had been planning your night (or rather imagining it dreamily from all angles): finding a DVD at a gas station. When his eyes fell on the item, he’d looked confused for a few seconds, but then taking it from the shelf and reading the cover his face lit up like a child’s in a candy store. 
As it turned out, it was an indie French movie he had watched with his parents back when he was young and they had been on a holiday. They had rarely spent quality time together, so he cherished those few occasions he’d felt like he belonged to an ordinary, loving family. He remembered the time fondly and he always wanted to find the movie because of the nostalgia of it all, but he had forgotten the title and didn’t know the actors, so after a lot of unsuccessful attempts, he’d given up trying. 
“Can we watch this tonight? Please?” He looked at you with big brown eyes, enveloping the DVD in his hands, (dwarfing it, really) and pressing it to his heart. And how could you say no to him? If he looked at you like that, you would have agreed to watch a 10-hour-long film about paint drying on a wall. 
“Of course, Javi,” you smiled at him gently, your heart melting from his child-like joy as you watched him gallop to the cashier to pay for the gas and the DVD. You pushed the slight disappointment of not being able to climb this gorgeous goofball of a man as soon as you get home, to the back of your mind. 
At the end of the day, you were genuinely happy to just spend time with him. You blamed your hormones and the fact that you were still in the honeymoon phase for being pent up all day. You couldn’t help it, but you are a big girl in an adult relationship, you decided, you can have one night without having sex with this tall, broad, gentle but surprisingly strong, passionate, generous, highly skilled–
“Let’s go!” he urged you with an adorable grin and shining eyes, grabbing your hand and tugging you out of the gas station. Your heart swelled from the sight. Yes, you can have a peaceful night if it makes him happy, and you will be just as hyped to watch the movie as him. It did seem like a good movie based on the cover, and you knew it meant the world to him, so you wouldn’t spoil his fun with your neediness. 
By the time you got back to your rented house, it was already dark, and the early autumn weather had gotten a bit more chilly. Javi practically jumped out of the car (but still rushed to your side to open your door). 
You agreed that you would prepare the snacks and set up the TV, while he would start the fireplace and get a bottle of wine from the cellar. He gave you a soft peck on your lips, one hand resting on the back of your neck, then he pretty much ran to the cellar - you think you even heard him giggling on his way. His enthusiasm was infectious, even though you’d never even heard about the movie before, now you were excited to watch it.
When you found out how to get the DVD to work Javi was already tinkling with the logs on the fireplace, a bottle of wine with two glasses on the kitchen counter already. You let yourself get lost in the sight for a good minute, your cavewoman brain activated by looking at him focusing on his task with his arms flexing, but then you shook yourself from your reveries, going to the American-style kitchen to put a bag of popcorn in the microwave and wash some grapes, then putting the wine on the coffee table next to the couch.
You couldn’t help but steal a few more glances at him. His short-sleeved shirt was now unbuttoned, hanging on his shoulders and your eyes fell on his white tank top straining over his torso. He seemed especially broad like this, and you couldn’t wait to cuddle with him and bury your face in his chest, kissing over the constellations of freckles on his shoulders and chest you were so familiar with by now.  
Once the fire was lighting, he looked at you proudly and you beamed back at him. The more his eyes were on you, the more his look grew softer. His gaze full of adoration made butterflies whoosh in your stomach - you were overwhelmed by emotions for this man, sometimes it even made you scared of falling too hard. 
“Are you sure you’re okay with watching this movie tonight, cariño?” He asked tenderly, his voice raspy and deep. He walked up to you to put his hands on your waist, caressing you with his thumbs and lowering his head to really look into your eyes. “I know these four days are supposed to be about the two of us.” There was no hurt or any malice in his voice, he was ready to drop the plan the second you said so. It felt like he was staring into your soul and suddenly you felt guilty. You obviously didn’t try hard enough to support him if he felt the need to ask and that made your guts tie up in a knot. You put your hands on the sides of his neck, then lowered them to his shoulders, then his chest. You never broke eye contact.
“Honey, I’m absolutely sure. We had a long day so a movie night is perfect to wind down and this movie seems super interesting! I swear, I can’t wait to start it already!” You rose on your tiptoes and laid an innocent kiss on his lips. He didn’t let you go, holding your face to deepen the kiss and a zap ran through your body as his tongue slipped between your lips to taste you. 
You felt his little huff on your upper lip, and you couldn’t resist the quiet moan that escaped your throat. The sound somewhat sobered you up, and you broke the kiss, feeling a little dizzy. He opened his eyes slowly, looking a bit disheveled himself. You had a mission to accomplish, you couldn’t get distracted all the time… you went back up just to give a small kiss on the tip of his nose, which made him smile bashfully, his eyes crinkling adorably. 
“Come on baby, let’s start it!” 
You grabbed the snacks, but he took them from you with a kiss on your temple, and you both headed to the couch. He put the snacks down on the table and plopped down on the L-shaped furniture as you went on a quick round to light some candles around the room, bathing it in warm colours. You started with the candles in the back and as you worked your way back up you caught him pouring wine into your glasses, then he started to explore the menu of the DVD to set up an English subtitle. With a small sigh, you allowed yourself to indulge yourself in his sight one last time while you were finishing up the candles. 
He quite literally took your breath away. His lovely locks you adored to bury your hands into so much, his eyes sparkling from the TV’s light and crinkled with a smile he probably didn’t even notice he had on his face. Your eyes followed the curve of his prominent nose and fell on his lips under his neat mustache. Those pouty lips... you had some vivid memories involving them. The man might look innocent, but he sure knew how to do sin when he wanted to. 
He leaned back with his legs propped up and reached out to you. You climbed on top of him and nestled yourself into his chest. He held you close to him, situating himself so you were sitting between his legs, resting your back on his chest. 
“Ready, cariño?” He hummed into your neck, pressing a small kiss there. Your blood sizzled under your sensitive skin. 
“Never been more ready! Let’s go!”
Javi started the movie and scooted even closer to you, if possible. Strong arms resting on your stomach, caging you in, he nuzzled your neck with a low hum, leaving a trail of kisses up your jaw, finishing with the softest of kisses on your cheek. You felt intoxicated, despite the untouched glasses on the table. His warmth was making your whole body melt, the way his chest rose and fell rhythmically behind you soothed you, and his cologne filled your nostrils with something warm and spicy and citrusy. But below all those layers it smelled uniquely like him, perfectly complementing his perfume. You would recognize it anywhere, after so many times of tasting his skin all over his body – it was the perfect concoction.
He was none the wiser about your… rather delicate situation, eyes glued to the screen, hands absentmindedly caressing your hips and stomach. You tried to focus on the movie, and you were able to catch glimpses of it and laugh at the jokes, but his touches kept distracting you. More often than not you caught yourself looking at his sinewy forearms, the golden watch on his wrist, and the ring on his pinky catching on your dress from time to time. You slowly traced the veins on his arms, and as you tried to focus on the screen again you played with the edges of his watch and ring. He gently caught your hand, intertwining your fingers and raising it to his face for a kiss on your knuckles. 
“Some wine?” He murmured sometime later. 
You were grateful for the opportunity, slightly going mad from the tension as you were stewing in your juices. He barely finished his question, you were already leaning for the glasses, handing him one. “Oo-kay,” he chuckled at your enthusiasm, albeit a little confused by your behaviour. He paused the movie and sat up at the corner of the couch. You were still between his legs, but you both positioned yourself to turn to each other more at the corner. His left hand held the glass, and his right was on your waist, keeping you close to him. His eyes were glazed over looking at your face and you could only imagine how ridiculously smitten you must have looked like. 
“For this perfect day, and for the unexpected gifts it has brought us,” he said, raising his glass. 
“For this perfect day, that is about to get even better,” you answered, making him grin with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 
You clinked your glasses and raised it to your lips, him barely tasting the wine through a sip, while you downed the whole glass. Leaning back against the backrest of the couch, you tried to look put together. The taste really was divine, and you had hoped it would help to calm your nerves a bit. Javi was visibly amused looking at you.
“You liked it, huh, cariño?” He asked, getting your glasses and putting them on the table leaning over your legs. 
You giggled in response, smiling shyly at him with a small shrug, “It tasted amazing, Javi. It was a great choice.” 
“I knew you would love this. Say the word and a box of these will be at my house by the time we get home,” he said, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ears and kept his hand on the side of your face. 
“Consider it said.” You winked at him and he breathed out a silent laugh, but he tilted his head a little with a small frown between his brows, seemingly inspecting you. You had a feeling you had looked a bit nervous, only because you’d tried to clumsily mask your desire for him, wanting to give this night to him to enjoy a movie that meant so much to him but… you clearly weren’t succeeding. You knew he was about to ask you about it, so instead you grabbed the remote before he could speak. 
“Shall we?” You asked nonchalantly. 
His hand dropped from your face. “Of course,” he said. 
He shook his head a little, failing at figuring you out as he leaned back on the couch. You laid down in front of him so you could continue watching the movie while he spooned you, and pressed the play button. You’d hoped that with this new pose, there would be less temptation as you’re not laying on him anymore, but boy, were you wrong. 
He hoisted you closer to his body, his hand splayed out on your stomach, and kept you there, almost protectively. Staring at it, you dumbly wondered about how much smaller your torso looked under his hand than your own and that activated something primal in your mind again. You felt his crotch pressed up to your ass, and though he wasn’t hard, it made your cunt throb around nothing. It was so close, yet so far, and you weren’t allowed to do anything about it. Your guts twisted, and you wiggled every few minutes, pressing your thighs together, uselessly fighting the arousal that kept getting more and more suffocating. 
A few minutes later he nuzzled at the back of your ear, and the combined sensations of his breath in your ear and the soft tickle of his mustache and stubble made a shudder run through your body, followed by goosebumps everywhere.
“Are you alright, honey?” He murmured, looking at your profile. 
“Of course, Javi,” you said, not very convincingly. “Just trying to find the perfect angle.” You explained as you wiggled some more, still staring at the TV, as your thumb gently smoothed across his knuckles to soothe him. 
“Right…” he replied. 
Whatever he thought, he didn’t say anything else. 
However, a few minutes later the hand that had been on your stomach slowly wandered down, below the hem of your sundress, and he gently, but firmly lifted your thigh to fit his between your legs. The movement was so unexpected that you couldn’t hold back a small groan from the pleasure the friction gave you. 
“You sure you’re alright?” Javi asked innocently behind your back, his hand now smoothing over the bare skin on your thigh, leaving an electric feeling beneath your skin in its trail. Every single one of his touches made arousal pool between your legs. You silently cursed at your body for growing more and more sensitive, begging for him to come closer. 
“Yeah…” you practically squeaked. You were close to your breaking point. 
Javi only hummed, his hand stopping to rest it on your stomach again. You were fighting your instincts to rub yourself on his thigh for a few minutes, and you were proud of yourself for resisting, but then he moved between your legs a little, enough to give attention to your aching clit, and the hiss that escaped your lips made him come to a halt. 
It felt like the time froze for a few seconds, none of you daring to move. You, trying to take back control over your treacherous body, and him obviously assessing the situation. You mentally did a facepalm as you felt your wet underwear sticking to his pants. He didn’t say anything, but his hand moved down from your stomach and bunched up your skirt. He breathed out your name, almost admonishing, and it made your heart jump. His hand was dangerously close to where you wanted him the most, and as his palm covered your mound, thick fingers reaching your soaked panties, he buried his face in the back of your neck. 
“Oh, honey…” he choked. He took a deep inhale, smelling your scent, then suddenly sat up and paused the movie. 
“No, Javi, I was watching it!” You wanted to wince at yourself, your act was truly ridiculous at this point. 
“None of that, cariño.” He shook his head, turning you on your back with a firm hand on your hip. “You obviously need me, please let me take care of you.” 
“It really can wait, I don’t mind!” You protested. You wanted nothing more than for him to touch you, but you didn’t want to be selfish. 
“Well, I don’t want to wait!” He declared, his gaze burning you as it fell from your face, scanning your body splayed out in front of him. “What about this: I eat you out, then we can continue the movie. Would that be okay for you?” 
You stared at him like a deer caught in a headlight. Is he serious? But his words definitely affected you. 
“Please, cariño,” he continued in a gentler tone, his pleading eyes finding yours again. “Let me eat your pretty pussy, now.” 
That was the last nail in your coffin, you swore under your breath as you almost went cross-eyed from his words only. “Fffuck, okay… okay let’s do this” you croaked after a few seconds, your defenses crumbling like a house of cards in a tornado. 
“Atta girl,” he smirked, and in an instant, he was on top of you. 
His fingers found their way into your hair as he put his lips on you, the press of his body a comforting weight on you. His kiss was electric, hot, and sensual. He sucked your lips in with a primal hunger, his tongue licking against the seam of your lips, opening you up to him and claiming your mouth with dominance. You barely noticed the soft sounds coming from your throat, only when you felt the corners of his mouth curl up slightly in a smile. You felt like you had to anchor yourself as you gripped the back of his open yellow shirt so hard, it was protesting against your ministrations on his shoulders. 
“Mmmtake—this—off,” you whispered desperately against his all-encompassing kiss. 
Javi leaned back, his hair disheveled, to practically tear the shirt off of himself. With a huff through his nose, his eyes gazed at your kiss-swollen lips with hunger. You were out of breath from the intensity of the kiss, panting softly as you took in the sight of him. 
He still had his tank top on, your mouth already dropping from the show. His top only accentuated his wide shoulders and narrow waist, and his skin kissed by the firelight was glowing in a golden light, its colours and the way the lights and shadows exaggerated his features made you drool. You could never resist the freckles on his shoulders and chest either. If you weren’t already on the edge of insanity, you would spend hours kissing and biting along his torso, but now clearly none of you had the patience for that. 
He came back to you and started suckling on your neck, one of your hands flying to his back to weakly trace the ridges of his shoulder blade, while the other clutched his bicep. Keeping up his ministrations on your neck he gently bunched up your dress above your stomach. His thigh found its way back between your legs and this time you bucked your hips up shamelessly. He groaned as he felt your wet warmth staining his pants and his lips traveled lower. As he trailed your collarbone with the tip of his tongue between his lips, two of his fingers touched you through your panties and you moaned out loud. 
“Javi, please!” you whined as he trailed his middle and ring finger up your seam, and tapped on your clit through the soaked textile. You were so worked up, you felt your heart pounding in your ears. 
“Shhh cariño, I got you,” he murmured, his voice impossibly low and his breath burning your chest. 
His fingers never gave up, but he always kept his touches light, making you throb uncontrollably. You watched him move lower, and you couldn’t decide what to stare at: his lips and tongue molding against your fevered skin, or the dips and hills of his shoulders and biceps flexing as he kept himself up with one arm while torturing you with the other. He traced his tongue around your navel and he looked up at you as he licked over its valley, his fingers mimicking the movement below. He then had the audacity to send you a cheeky wink as your whole body shuddered.
“Fuuuck, stop teasing me, I can’t take it anymore!” you sounded pathetic, but you didn’t care at this point.
“Okay, baby. You earned it.” 
He consoled you quietly with a final kiss to your lower stomach, before hooking his fingers into your panties to slowly drag the piece down. If it was anyone else you probably would have felt awkward about how the fabric protested at first, sticking to your cunt, but with Javi, if anything, you felt powerful. 
He was visibly trying to compose himself as he gently helped you get both your legs out of the ruined piece and with a shaky exhale he scooted back. He shove a cushion under your ass as he laid down on his belly, navigating your thighs over his shoulders, eyeing your center with blown-out pupils. 
“I will never get used to this,” he mused to himself with wonder in his voice, as he splayed his hands across the crease of your ass to softly spread your cunt wide open with his thumbs. You felt his heavy huff on your pussy, and it made you twitch again. He looked captivated by the sight.
“Javi, I swear to go—oohhh my god,” Javi cut you off as the flat of his tongue licked a broad and firm stripe through your folds with a depraved moan.
Your whole body lifted up, and he hooked his arms around your legs, grabbing at the top of your thighs as he held you down, keeping you close to his ravenous mouth. He gave you a few greedy laps, slowly exploring all of your cunt before his tongue lazily went around your hole. Your muscles were twitching, your chest and neck aflame, and if his sight weren’t so hypnotizing you would have thrown your head back already. You felt boneless. 
Your abs shaking from the strain of keeping you upright, you grabbed a few cushions you could reach from your position, and shoved them under your head, angling yourself perfectly to watch him at work. He was licking at you tirelessly, mapping all your sensitive spots, before he started to fuck you with his tongue, slowly but deliberately grazing your walls all around. 
You let out a raspy moan at the sensation - he was the first person who had ever done this to you and you were still surprised by it every single time. The feel of his agile muscle prodding at your sensitive flesh made your vision blur and sweat gather around your temple. He went as deep as possible, and after an inhale he buried his nose in your clit, slightly moving it left and right. You felt him everywhere as if he was surrounding your entire body. One of your hands grabbed a cushion so tightly, it made your knuckles ache, your other hand finding purchase in his soft locks. 
You were scraping his scalp with your fingernails, and he practically purred, the sounds vibrating against your raw flesh, starting a fire in your guts as goosebumps erupted on your skin. You couldn’t help pulling at a handful of hair as your pussy spasmed around his deft tongue. His purr turned into a growl as he removed himself, gulping some air still a few inches away from your cunt. Your hands lifelessly plopped down around you. 
“Fuck, cariño, I won’t ever get enough of you,” his speech was slurred like he was drunk and he looked up at you with disoriented eyes. “You taste so good, I would happily drown in you.”
You wanted to react, you really did, but as he was talking one of his hands left your thigh and traced an invisible pattern down the apex of your thighs, fingers traveling through your cunt and gathering your juices, then reaching their destination, a thick digit slipping into you just when you wanted to answer him. Whatever you wanted to tell him, he rendered you speechless with literally a swipe of his finger. The cracking of the fire and the slick sounds of your pussy were the only noises around you, until you felt his mouth on you again. He lapped up the juices escaping you around his finger, sucking on your lips with obscenely loud noises. You wanted to cover your face because you suddenly felt self-conscious, but his free hand grabbed your wrist as you heard him call your name brokenly. 
“Please don’t hide away from me, I want to see your face as I bring you pleasure,” he pleaded, his accent a bit stronger than usual. 
The mere look of him was debauched, all messy-haired and shiny-faced, looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars in the sky. Your heart skipped a beat, and you held onto his hand, his thumb tracing reassuring circles on your knuckles immediately. Your other hand smoothed his unruly hair out of his face, and he went back, keeping eye contact with you. 
“Look at me,” he rasped one last time before diving in.
He dragged his tongue up between your folds as his finger started moving again. He looked up at you the entire time from under his lashes, eyes half-lidded. As he reached your clit you jumped a little, and he opened his mouth wider so you could see his tongue moving against the tortured little nub with a small wiggle. You had to compose yourself not to let your eyes roll back, the sight somehow multiplying the already devastating sensation tenfold. 
“You’re so fucking good to me, Javi,” you uttered, caressing his hair and you could see a shiver running down his spine. “I’m so—so—“
“I know, mi amor, I can feel it. Let go for me.” 
He groaned and sucked your clit into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. You squealed, not knowing if you wanted to escape from his ministrations or let him consume you. You tried to trash around but his hands came up and covered the bottom of your stomach, holding you down again. You had half the mind to notice him slowly grinding onto the couch, but then you felt his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, along with his finger rubbing that perfect spot inside you again, and you felt like a lightning struck you. 
All your muscles seized up as white-hot pleasure coursed through your veins. At first, you couldn’t even breathe, let alone make a sound, but then a groan tore out from the depth of your chest and you fell back on the couch lifelessly. Javi never let up licking at you, prolonging your catharsis, not stopping even when you tried to squirm away from oversensitivity. 
“No, no wait—“ you pleaded with a shaky voice to no avail. Everything was too much, but you couldn’t escape from his iron grip. Javi greedily explored all your sensitive spots around your swollen vulva and hole with firm strokes, before he found the button of your clit again, sucking on it harshly dragging you under the waves of ecstasy for a second time that night with a squeak. His mouth was sucking at you relentlessly through the helpless spasms of your body, draining all the energy from you and filling your brain with fuzzy cotton. You fell back limply, muttering nonsense while his mouth gently cleaned you up.
You had no idea how long you were just laying there uselessly, basking in the afterglow with Javi still between your legs. His face rested on the plush of your thigh, his breathing slow but heavy, his eyes closed and his hands flexing. 
Once your wits came back to you, you noticed a faint dent on your thigh from Javi’s ring, a thought of how you wanted to tattoo it on your skin filled your mind – to keep it there forever. 
You played with his hair again, curling a silky strand around your finger by scraping little circles on his scalp. As if you woke him up from a stupor, he looked up at you, breathing now almost normal, but his pupils were still blown out. He wiped his face on your inner thigh, then kissed and sucked off the remnants of your wetness there and you giggled, his facial hair tickling you. He crawled up your body with a smile across his face, before he laid next to you. You immediately followed him, decorating the hot skin on his shoulders and collarbone with lazy, open-mouthed kisses. He weakly pawed at your waist to bring you closer to him, then dragged the bottom of your dress over your thighs to give you some decency. 
“Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he pondered and gently pinched your ass. You snickered as you playfully swatted his chest, before laying your head on his pecs. His heart was beating wildly and it made you swoon, so much so that you had to lay a soft kiss between his pecs, just above the hem of his top before nuzzling even more into his blushed chest, as a content sigh fell from your lips. Your gaze couldn’t help but fall to his bulge - he was visibly affected by your previous endeavors. 
“Javi…” you whispered in his neck, while your hand gently caressed his stomach. You felt his heavy exhale under you. “If you want… we can continue…” 
“Oh! Of course, cariño!” he said, perking up, reaching out for the remote control and pushing the play button again, eyes immediately glued on the screen. 
You laid there, having a mental tantrum. Well, things weren’t going the way expected. How can he still be thinking about the movie? 
Squashing that ugly disappointment down, you turned in his arms to try to focus on the TV again. You weren’t allowed to complain, he said he would make you cum and you would continue the movie, and he did just that and more. You couldn’t help the ravenous hunger you had for this man though, it was never enough of him. You laid a soft kiss on his bicep below your head and your arm reached behind to gently shove him back against you. He followed you diligently, but he tensed as his bulge, now hard, rested against your ass again. 
“I’m sorry honey, I’ll just need a minute,” he apologised quietly, voice strained from embarrassment and barely veiled desire. 
The devil on your shoulder took over you as you rolled your hips against him slowly but deliberately. The filthy sound coming from deep in his chest melted your bones, making it hard to keep back your own needy whine. 
“Wh—what are you doing?” 
His strong grip on your hip felt like a warning, but his voice was so weak. That’s what made you throw all your culture out the window, giddy roiling in your guts from feeling him get fully erect against you. You barely registered your hand moving mindlessly, grinding your palm against him. His hand clenched around your forearm easily, but he didn’t move it away. 
“I need you, Javi,” you begged shamelessly, turning your head back in his direction as much as possible. 
“Fuck…” he breathed, eyes closed shut with a loud gulp. When he opened his eyes again his gaze was intense, one of his hands cradling your face as he propped himself up on his elbow to look deeply into your eyes. “I thought you wanted to watch the movie…” 
That made you freeze with confusion, even your hand stopped moving over him. 
“…me?” You asked incredulously. “I mean yeah, it does seem like a great movie and I’d happily watch it any other time, but I couldn’t wait to be alone with you the entire day. I’ve wanted to eat you up since we crawled out of bed this morning. But I’m happy to do anything as long as I’m with you– and you looked so happy to find that movie… I don’t know… I just didn’t want to ruin your joy with my neediness, I guess” you confessed hastily with warm cheeks. 
A soft sound of surprise got stuck in his throat as he looked at you with saucer eyes, gaping like a fish. It looked rather comical if you were honest. If you didn’t feel so sheepish about your clumsy confession, you would have giggled at his expression. 
He shook his head lightly, as if processing your words. “So that’s why you were acting so weird tonight!” He exclaimed, relief evident on his face. He breathed out your name softly, his thumb caressing your face ever so gently. 
“I felt the same way the entire day. I got distracted by finding the movie, I give you that, but up until that moment, I was contemplating taking you in the bathroom in every single place we visited. Even in the car, consequences be damned,” he huffed, and you had to clench your thighs to alleviate the need growing between them again from the mental image. 
“Cariño, I have the DVD now, I can watch it whenever I want!” He tutted, “I swear, one day I’m gonna write a screenplay for you to be the lead in it, you’re such a talented actress. You seemed so eager to watch this movie that I felt guilty for trying to distract you,” he smoothed a strand of hair behind your ear with a chuckle, “I suppose both of us were fools…” 
You couldn’t hold back a rather unsexy snort at that, but it made him beam at you with crinkling eyes. 
He cupped your jaw and leaned over to press a sweet kiss on your lips, but it immediately grew hungry. The stark difference between his precious face and the taste of yourself still on his tongue made a shudder run through your body. 
Javi can really do both, you thought dreamily, but you were quickly snapped back to reality when he rolled you on top of him and deepened the kiss as he slowly sat up, helping you to position yourself on your knees around his hips. He planted his feet on the couch and grabbing your bare asscheeks firmly he dragged your pulsing center down on his bulge. 
Your hands flew to his hair, arms resting on his shoulders, feeling like passing out when you felt his cock twitch against your bare pussy, tearing a low hiss out of him. He bunched up and gripped your dress around your torso. 
“This little dress was teasing me all day,” he groaned, slowly pulling down the zip on your back, the edge of his thumb caressing your bare spine in the process. “It looks fantastic on you, honey, but I need to see all of you, right now.” 
By the time he finished his thought, he already tugged it off of you, your breast jiggling in front of his face from the impact of falling out of the secure hold of the dress, his heavy gaze falling to them immediately, your body now bare in his lap. 
“Oh god, look at you… tan bonita,” he murmured as his hands slid over your ribs firmly, before they slipped under your breasts with a feather-light touch. 
He cupped the mounds gently as his thumbs smoothly explored the skin. The pad of his fingers traced your areola, then softly rubbed over your sensitive nipples. You arched your back, leaking some more wetness on his trousers as you rubbed yourself heavier on him. One hand molded a breast into his waiting mouth, tongue wiggling around the achy nub and the other slipping down your shivering stomach, across the top of your thigh and teasing at your seam across your ass. 
The suckling sensation on your nipple, while his hand was prodding teasingly at your swollen entrance made you go insane. You had to center yourself around something. You clasped the back of the couch tightly, using it as support as you pushed your chest more in his face. Without hesitation, you vigorously moved your clit against his bulge, your head arched back in ecstasy.
His wrecked moan was the prize, your breast slipping from his lips as you watched a tremor course through his entire body. Once he came back to his senses he doubled down his efforts, nuzzling the other breast and sucking the pebbled nipple in his hot mouth. 
His tongue started to swirl around the hardened nub at the same time as two of his fingers drowned in your slick pussy, finding your most sensitive spot with devastating accuracy. Your mind went blank, and your gasps came out in hiccups. Your instincts took over as you were riding his bulge with trembling legs, chasing your blinding pleasure. You only had enough wits to sit back to undo his belt, ripping off his fly, and with his help, you were able to push his pants down his thighs, freeing his erect cock.
His hand grasped the base and gently tapped it against your sensitive clit, and your hips started moving again, trapping his length under your pussy as you continued to slide over him. He softly bit on your nipple in response which blazed off fireworks in your lower stomach, his other hand never stopping its brutal pace grinding against your most sensitive spot. You were so close to cumming you could practically taste it on your tongue. 
“Feels so good—,“ your voice was desperate, and he let out a wrecked moan around your breast. 
The soft pulling sensation, coupled with the warm, wet caresses of his mouth on your nipple, the expert touch of his fingers on your g-spot, and the tantalizing friction of your clit rubbing against the ridges of his cock, quickly sent you spiraling into a world of ecstasy and pleasure. You came with a wail, your back arching and eyes rolling back. You faintly felt Javi’s hands at the base of your back and along your spine, keeping you close to him while his eyes feasted on you falling apart for him. You fell back on his shoulders, weakly grasping at his elbows as his palms caressed your back and he showered your neck with small kisses, humming quietly between them. 
“You did so well, you’re fucking amazing,” he breathed against your skin, as you felt your pulse slow down a bit. He kissed a path down your sweaty chest and came back the same route. After some blissful peace, you felt his cock twitch against you and you whined. 
“Do you have one more in you, mi amor? We can rest,” Javi asked gently, his eyes searching for yours. 
Bless his heart, he made you come three times and he would finish the night here and there, hard as a rock. Your body was still buzzing and you felt sore from his thick fingers but one look at his sinful state was enough to get you in the mood again. 
His lovely locks were now sticking to his face, the perspiration on his chest only making him glow even more. His mouth was agape, plush lower lip kiss-swollen, and his dark eyes silently pleading with you. Instead of giving him an answer, you gripped the hem of his tank top and peeled the offending item off of him as he held up his arms, helping you and keeping his lustrous eyes on yours. 
Resting your hands on the top of his chest you kissed down his neck, between his collarbones. Sitting back lower on his legs, you could trace your tongue between his pecs and down to his soft stomach. You couldn’t help but kiss around his little belly, giving him a playful bite which made him jolt with a small laugh. Your finger traced the soft patch of hair below his navel, and understanding your silent request, he kicked down the remaining of his clothes while you kneeled on the side. 
You were fascinated as you watched his cock in all its glory, shiny from your juices, precum already leaking from the angry, red tip. Your mouth watered at the sight, and you were already in motion to have a taste for yourself when he stopped you, gently putting his hands around your arms. 
“It pains me to stop you, but the second I feel your mouth on me, I would be a goner.” His husky voice was layered with desire. “C’mere, I need to be inside you,” he added, and you almost jumped on him. 
You crawled back over his hips while he pumped his cock a few times, his veins bulging in his cock and forearms. It was one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen and you filed the idea for later exploration. You went lower on him and he smeared his member over your slit, covering him in your juices generously again, then he prodded the head at your entrance. 
“Come on, cariño, let me feel you, please,” he growled, and you carefully descended down on him. 
You were over quite a few nights with him, but your pussy still struggled to accommodate his size, especially now that you were still sore and sensitive from earlier. The struggle felt like a pinch and you whined, but he cradled your face and kissed your forehead. 
“It’s okay honey, take your time,” he whispered and let you take the lead for the moment. 
He caressed everywhere he could reach. He sucked two fingers into his mouth and lead them to your clit, ever so slightly drawing circles around it. At first, it felt like a needle stab, but a few seconds later it turned into pleasure. You swallowed more of him with a quiver. You felt so full, even though you were still a few inches apart from sitting down completely. 
His tongue found your breasts again, laving at the skin with bites and kisses alternating between them, tongue chasing your puffy nipple with confident laps. When he sucked in your soaked bud to bite down on it your cunt bottomed out, swallowing his cock entirely as a fresh wave of slickness coated his base. He tore away from your glistening nipple, burying his face between your breasts with a heavy groan. 
“You’re so fucking tight around me,” he rasped into your damp chest. “You were made for me. And your skin is so fucking silky.” 
Just to prove his point, his greedy tongue made its way up your chest, across your neck and jaw and to claim your mouth in a hedonistic kiss, as his hands grabbed the meat of your ass; not to force you to move, but to ground himself. 
The kiss was a little clumsy, but no less toe-curling, his tongue exploring your mouth and teeth clashing as you started to rise and fall against him. You felt so full, as if he was in your guts. Your lungs burned as you felt more and more overwhelmed by the inferno in your body. You broke away from him only to lay back, hands grabbing his shins while continuing to move up and down on his cock. 
The new angle was exhausting, but it rubbed your insides from just the perfect direction, and your vision blurred from the sensation. From this angle he had the best view of his cock disappearing in your puffy cunt, then appearing again, covered in your juices. Javi was hypnotized by the sight, his mouth dropping, and eyebrows knitted tightly together. 
“That’s it, use me, just like that,” he grunted, trapped under your spell over him. 
Heavy-lidded eyes followed your every move, and as he reached out to touch your overworked clit again your thighs started to tremble so hard that you couldn’t continue gyrating against him. He swore under his breath as you throbbed around him another time, and you leaned over his body to grab his shoulders. 
He prompted you to rise higher on your knees above him as he secured his feet on the surface of the couch. One arm braced himself next to his torso, while the other slipped up your back to grab your shoulder from the back, and he started to pound into you mercilessly, stealing your breath. You could barely stay in place, so you grabbed the backrest of the couch as you felt tears pricking your eyes from the intensity. 
“Are you close, baby? I’m so close but I need you to come first,” he strained, seemingly every muscle in his body tensing from the exertion.
He looked like a sculpture of a deity from ancient times, especially when his head fell back, the thick column of his gorgeous neck on full display. You could only nod, not being able to even form a coherent thought anymore as your desperate whines became constant. He raised his head again - he couldn’t keep his gaze away from where you connected, his face almost looked angry from the concentration. 
“Fuckfuckfuck, rub your clit for me,” he roared, and you followed his order immediately. 
Almost as soon as you touched your clit, you started shuddering violently with a loud and raspy cry, tears running down your face as he kept grazing your g-spot with every powerful thrust. You felt possessed as your entire body short-circuited, and your ears started ringing. You faintly registered his load painting your walls as your throbbing core milked him dry, his growl echoing in your ears. 
You collapsed on him like a ragdoll, your sweaty bodies colliding as he kept you close to his chest. As you came back to your wits a few minutes later you felt raw and weak and vulnerable, but it was okay because Javi was there, embracing you with strong arms and gentle kisses across your face, swiping away your tears. His body was like a shelter as you clung to him with all your limbs and he kept you safe from whatever was happening outside of your bubble. 
“Are you okay?” He whispered, your name falling from his lips like a prayer as his hand smoothed over your hair while his body swayed you gently. 
“I’m… I’m more than okay,” you croaked, still feeling boneless as you weakly clasped into his body. “Thank you, this was a spiritual experience.” He huffed a small laugh at that. 
“You are incredible,” he cooed. 
You lazily nuzzled deeper into his neck with a hum, letting his scent calm your frayed nerves down. You stayed like that, limbs intertwined for a while, before Javi reluctantly pulled out of you, making the both of you groan as he gently helped you to lay on your back and he hurried to the bathroom in all his naked glory. 
He came back soon, but that little time was enough for you to realize that your thighs and mound were drenched. That explains the out-of-body experience. 
Javi sat down next to you, a warm and wet washcloth in his hand. He cleaned you up with reverence, eyeing the marks he had left over your body. He seemed worried, but you wore them with pride.
“That’s very kind of you, but I think we will need to shower anyway,” you smiled bashfully, and he placed a smooth kiss on your forehead.
“I wasn’t sure if you had enough energy for that,” he rasped.
“If you help me, it won’t be an issue,” you sat up slowly, your coordination akin to a newborn foal, his hand held out to help you to stand. 
“Of course, cariño.” 
His warm eyes made your knees buckle, this time not from your physical activities. As if on cue, the credits rolled on the screen with a blaring sound, and both of you jerked your head in its direction with alarm, obviously forgetting about the movie going in the background the entire time. You looked back at each other with wide eyes, laughter erupting out of you at the same time.
“So, you wanna watch the movie when we get back home?” He snickered.
“Definitely!” You perked up at the prospect of spending more time with him after your getaway. Besides, now it was your mission to finally really watch the movie. “Unless you’ll need me again,” you added, wiggling your eyebrows at him. He chuckled and smacked your ass gently.
“I was hoping for that answer.”
—————
THE END.
Thank you for reading! Reblogs & feedbacks are highly appreciated ♥️
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subway-tolkien · 7 months
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Okay, this is 1600 words of (positive!) meta regarding the OFMD finale. Included is character analysis and a treatise on why a certain trope people keep throwing around does not apply here.
This is of course just my take, and I'm sure people will disagree, but I needed to get this out. Apologies if it comes off disjointed, I've had like no sleep.
Spoilers within, obviously. You have been warned. Heed the tags. I didn't tag any characters because I consider it a spoiler, but you know who this is about.
Listen. Listen.
Let me start off by saying I have been where you are. I’ve had beloved characters die, either because it was important to the narrative or for shock value. I’ve been there, so I’m not coming at this without empathy. I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him as a character. I’m truly sad to see him go.
But from what I’m seeing around Twitter and tumblr, some of you do not understand the role of an antagonist in a story.
Izzy was always meant to die. The moment he said, in the first season, “the only retirement we get is death,” I knew he was meant to die in the end. The foreshadowing ran through both seasons. Izzy was the true antagonist of S1. He was there to keep Blackbeard tethered when he started pulling away, and yet he also set the plot in motion. He inadvertently introduced Blackbeard to the person who let him be just Ed. He put Ed on his own path to redemption without even knowing it.
S1 ended with Izzy getting what he wanted as Ed lost everything he had. S2 was about Izzy coming to terms with the fact that he’d gone too far, he’d turned Ed into a monster. It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Blackbeard back, just like old times. Instead, he got the Kraken, and it was more than he bargained for.
Especially after it cost him his leg and he realized how far gone Ed really was. The conversation that ended with Izzy’s half-assed suicide attempt was the final blow to Izzy—Ed really didn’t seem to care anymore. Where Izzy wanted him to stop giving a shit about his silly boyfriend, he instead got a Blackbeard who didn’t care about anything, and he was apparently now included in that category.
(I said half-assed suicide attempt because Izzy wasn’t meant to die then, THAT would have been an empty, pointless death. It wouldn’t have taught Ed anything—in fact, all it did was make him more self-destructive, which was Izzy’s purpose to the narrative, but not his endgame. That Ed thought Izzy killed himself pushed Ed to the brink. Ed wanted to die and take every scrap of Blackbeard with him. Had Izzy successfully killed himself, Ed and the Revenge would be at the bottom of the ocean.
It wasn’t until the crew left Izzy the unicorn leg that he realized the power of compassion, the incredible act of grace from a crew that suffered so much from Izzy’s own machinations and didn't need to forgive him. It moved him to tears, and it moved him to accept that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to let people in, to let himself be cared for. It was a foreign concept and something Izzy likely hadn’t experienced since losing his family (I fully expect a shit ton of fanfic of Izzy’s life before piracy).
Israel Hands found the capacity to let love all the way in and by god, did he pursue it.
But, again, Izzy was always meant to die, and I’m glad they stuck to the narrative they set out with instead of placating fandom and letting our influence dictate how they told this story That’s never good, trust me. Fandom should not influence a creator’s decisions regarding their own characters. It rarely if ever ends well.
[Stares in Voltron S8]
And I see a lot of people out here throwing the “bury your gays” phrase around—I beg you, please look up the definition of the trope. Izzy didn’t die because he was queer, he didn’t die because of his disability. He wasn’t one half of the only queer couple in the show fridged for shock value. He wasn’t killed off due to pressure from conservative viewers. He wasn’t the only queer, disabled character.
They didn’t kill off Lucius, or Jackie, or Wee John. Would you be as outraged if it was any of them?
Killing Eve is bury your gays. Supernatural is bury your gays. Pretty much any film, book, TV show, whatever, where a queer character dies because they’re queer, of AIDs, to further the narrative for a straight person, etc—that is burying your gays.
Izzy’s death was none of those things. Izzy’s death had meaning.
Izzy’s death freed Ed from the Blackbeard persona. It finally forced Izzy to say the things he couldn’t say until he realized it was his last chance. Izzy was also tired. I honestly think he stuck it out for Ed’s sake, because he was afraid to let Blackbeard go without making sure Ed would be ok.
He loved the idea of Blackbeard, but over time, he learned to love Ed. He finally understood what Ed tried to tell him the whole time.
“Fuck off, you twat. You’re surrounded by family.”
You’re safe. You’re loved. You don’t need me anymore. You don’t need to be reminded of who you’re capable of being, you need the people who will guide you to who you will become, and I’m not one of them.
I know a lot of Izzy fans are stung by his death, some of you are deeply upset. I get that. Like I said, I’ve been there. Sirius’s death made me throw that fucking book across the room. That Fucking Woman™ killed off my entire OTP, purely for shock value and, imho, a direct response to shippers. Trust me, I have felt betrayed by a creator for their decisions.
But I need you to understand that no, this was not a personal attack, this was not malicious, this was not “bury your gays." A show that celebrates queerness and diversity is not suddenly homophobic and ableist because your favorite character died and happened to be both of those things. But when the majority of your cast of characters is different in some way, and they’re in a show about 18th century pirates, you have to accept that one of them could, in fact, die. “Anyone Can Die” is also a trope and the more accurate one to describe E8.
If only being queer and disabled made you invincible.
Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.
And no, I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him, I loved him as an antagonist, and I loved his redemption arc. He was fascinating and Con put his whole O’Nussy into that part. I’m sorry to see him go, but as a mystery writer who often has to kill off beloved characters, I understand that he served the purpose he had from the beginning.
I swear, if some of you had your way, there’d be no conflict at all in any form of media. This what a steady diet of nothing but fanfic gets you. This is not a fluffy one-shot with magical healing dick and a happy ending where everyone sails off into the sunset. If that’s what you wanted, what you headcanoned, you did this to yourself. It’s not David et al’s fault that we took that character and babygirled him. That’s the risk we take when we decide to love a specific character, when we take a genuinely terrible person (in S1) and woobify him.
So, please stop harassing and attacking David, Alex, et al. David did not and should not change his story to placate us. The fact he went ahead with it despite the backlash I’m sure he expected makes me respect him as a creator even more.
Anyway, I’m going to revel that we have three (!) queer relationships with happy endings where one or both didn’t immediately die (again, the actual definition of “bury your gays”) and that we got at least two seasons of a little show that celebrated individualism, diversity, queerness, compassion, and love.
In the end, it all came down to love.
“There he is.”
Goodbye, Blackbeard.
Hello, Ed.
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stsgluver · 8 months
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I'M HERE – gojo satoru
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synopsis. reluctantly, you agree to a new life with two children and your ex. PART TWO OF FOUR.
wc. 3.4k
tags. angst, swearing, happy ending-ish, spoilers for s2
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“get out.”
satoru flinches at the coldness in your tone, and you want to scoff. as if though he gets to be the one who’s hurt right now. your hands ache and your head feels like it’s imploding as you struggle to take in everything he says. it’s too much, too important, too soon.
a year has passed but you’ve barely had the chance to accept how cruel he’d been when he pushed you away, like you had meant nothing. like you hadn’t spent almost three years side-by-side, majority of that as his girl. 
gojo satoru is someone who always got what he wants – and he got you. he had all of you: mind, body, and soul… but that wasn’t enough for him. you weren’t enough for him. 
“yn–” again, he tries reaching for you and, again, you reject the advancement, standing up abruptly to ensure you can keep the space between the two of you. you swallow thickly and point towards your half open door. gojo’s eyes don’t follow the direction of your hand, instead staying intently on your face as he indulges himself in his favourite picture, even if that picture is stained with damp streaks.
“get out,” you repeat slowly. he needs to leave you in peace again – or whatever peace you’d come to accept after his sudden departure from your orbit. as much as you hate him, your body and mind is still intuitive with his. it feels wrong to watch him cry and not try and comfort him, and from his actions and the way his hands remain stiff at his sides, fidgeting with the material of his pants, you know he feels the same.
after all he just confessed his love for you, you’re aware of how he feels. but you don’t know what he’s thinking and that terrifies you.
“please.” he is begging, the strongest sorcerer alive is pleading for you, but you’re not sure what he expects you to say. i love you? let’s get back together? yes, i’ll totally take care of that monster’s children with you? i’m totally fine even though my best friend decided to murder a tonne of people and then you broke up with me and then i spent 12 months trying not to die on insane missions that i was sent on because the higher ups hate me and i don’t have you as a buffer anymore?
you scoff, arms crossing in front of as you roll your eyes at his ignorance to your suffering, “gojo satoru, i swear to go–”
“woah, woah, what’s going on in here?” 
your eyes dart to the door and you have never been so happy to hear the voice of your dear friend, shoko ieiri. in one hand is her usual unlit cigarette (she swears she’s quitting for real this time, she just needs the comfort of one in her hand), and in the other is her phone. you assume she must’ve been distracted by a call and that’s why he was able to come into the room and not her.
since satoru had put up this wall between the two of you, shoko had been your shoulder to lean on and you know she wouldn’t have just let him waltz in without her support. you thought he was your person, and shoko had watched as you fell apart alone and without him.
you don’t want to know what you look like if it’s anywhere close to how horrible you feel right now. your heart aches and every stitch you had made to patch back together your heart are slowly coming loose. there’s probably mascara running down your cheeks by this point and you’re thirty more seconds of being in satoru’s presence from breaking down into full on sobs as you relive the loss of him and geto.
shoko, your saviour and rock for the past twelve months, comes to your rescue. “what are you going here?” she asks in an accusatory tone towards satoru, head tilted with a raised brow. it hadn’t just been you that satoru had pushed away twelve months ago – it had been everyone. but you know that shoko has still managed to maintain some relationship with him, and from the way his shoulder deflates, he’s smart enough to not burn that bridge too.
“leaving,” satoru responds curtly, brushing past shoko as he makes his swift exit. well, his infinity brushes past shoko and she flips his back the middle finger as she’s gently pushed aside by the invisible force.
you drop down onto your back on your empty bed, both hands covering your face as you try to relax your heartbeat again that runs high wire. you’d be lying if you said you don’t miss satoru; miss seeing him in your room after a long mission or long day of lessons; miss waking up to his raspy voice as he pokes you in the side to wake you up for class; miss being loved by him.
“i thought he was still giving you the silent treatment.”
peeking between your fingers, you glance over to shoko who’s flicking through your open boxes full of your life of the last four years. “i wish he still was,” you admit, voice a little more stable now that you’re not in the middle of crying. the tears have stopped but your cheeks are still flushed red. “has he really taken in fushiguro’s kids?” 
“one’s his, the other is his step daughter,” shoko responds, as though that is common knowledge.
you frown, sitting back up, hands in your lap. “you knew then?” shoko pauses her snooping but doesn’t look back at you. if there’s one thing you and satoru still have in common, is lashing out when you’re upset. ironic given how much you hate him for it. 
“he has… changed. y’know, since geto,” shoko clarifies. the name itself makes you bite down on your tongue and the never ending ache you’re enduring reminds you why you need to leave this place.
“no shit,” you bite back and shoko gives you a blank look. “i’m sorry.” she’d been with you every night for the first month following the break up, she is the reason you are still alive following your sudden increase in mission difficulty. she had been the first to talk shit about satoru or throw random objects at him and just hope his infinity just so happened not to be active (it always was).
“don’t apologise, say whatever you want to me,” shoko shrugs, offering you a sad smile, “i’ll never leave.” three simple words that hold more meaning than you could’ve ever comprehended twelve months ago.
“thank you, love you always.” the two of you share a brief hug (shoko’s never been one for overtly physical affection). 
“good,” shoko pulls back first, checking her phone before waving it in your face. there’s a message but you can’t make it out as she shakes the screen, “now more importantly, are you ready to go? nanami said that he wants to take the next train into the city.”
“can you just give me a minute?” you gesture to the last boxes that you needed to close up – the school had been kind enough to sort out the removal of your belongings (shocker) so all you need to do is just get to the airport and make your plane. 
“of course,” shoko nods understandingly. the split in your class had only led to the two of you coming closer. blood aside, she is and would always be your sister. you know she isn’t happy that you’re quitting sorcery but she knows she can’t keep you happy here, so she’s kept her complaints to herself. 
there’s a soft click as your door closes and you breathe out a sigh of relief. satoru’s words still sit at the back of your mind (‘i love you, i’ve got two kids’ – like what?!), and then you flinch as you remember the wounds that have only just healed on your arm – one of which being a large gash that would’ve killed you had you not been so close to the school when you’d been caught off guard by the curse. this world isn’t for you. 
maybe in another life, one where geto never left the school and satoru never left you, but that is not this life.
grabbing your tape, you go to close the box that shoko had been flicking through when the flash of a familiar photo catches your eye. you hesitate but ultimately that feeling of home consumes you and you can’t stop yourself from lifting the frame from the box. 
it’s you and satoru and geto and shoko and nanami and even haibara.
you remember when the photo was taken: the middle of summer in your second year. satoru and geto had forgone their uniform jackets, the former having one arm around the latter and the other around you. shoko is next to geto and the two second years follow after them. she’s wearing satoru’s glasses as she often did steal them. you’re all smiling – even nanami – and you can’t stop yourself from mirroring the same expression.
those were better times, one where the responsibility and stress of being a sorcerer was only a whispered warning. within a short period that would all fall apart. your teenage years cut short and your innocences stolen following fushiguro toji’s attack.
fushiguro…
you think of his children, the life they will never be able to have because of the thing they are associated with, and the power they've inherited. the children that your ex boyfriend has oh so generously taken in. 
it’s still ingrained in your mind; the sound of geto’s voice over the phone as he struggled to breathe, let alone speak. riko is dead, satoru is dead. that’s all he could repeat over, and over, and over, again. it had been shoko he’d called put you’d been there as she put it on speaker. if it weren’t for nanami being beside you you would’ve collapsed to your knees as you refused to accept what he was saying.
the next few hours were a blur, shoko saving geto, geto going to retrieve satoru, satoru being alive… 
he changed after that. it wasn’t overly apparent, not just to anyone, but you were his girlfriend. he’d reached a state of ‘enlightenment’, as he called it, his cursed technique now far superior to any other sorcerer alive (not that it wasn’t already).
the seven of you never deserved what happened to you – haibara especially never deserved to have his life cut short and the more you remember, the more you decide these children don’t deserve that either.
you bite down on your lip as you realise the conclusion that you’re beginning to come to. one that you’re not 100% sure you won’t regret in the coming months. 
to nanami: i’m sorry i’m not going to make it on the train
from nanami: don’t worry, shoko already let me know you’d probably changed your mind
from nanami: stay safe x
you smile down at your phone. nanami is the closest you’ll ever get to a little brother and even if you’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life, you’re glad he’s escaping this hell.
to unknown: meet me at the old park.
from unknown: what about your plane?
to unknown: 2pm
it’s for those kids, you remind yourself, not for him.
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despite being the one to choose the meeting location and time, you’re late and you’re already almost in tears yet again. the park was a regular for you, satoru, geto and shoko as teens. shoko and geto would climb up onto the roof of the public bathrooms to smoke whilst satoru made you push his lanky frame on the big swings. those nights practically always ended at dawn, and no matter how sneaky the four of you thought you were, yaga always caught you sneaking back onto the school campus.
things were so much simpler and you were so happy. a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions your experiencing now.
you’d chosen the park to give yourself an advantage, to remind satoru of the memories he could only remember and never relive. it was his fault he’d lost that…
…though even as you think that you know that you’re putting him at too much fault. everything was lost the second geto chose to make the first kill. none of you could’ve stopped that.
shaking your head and brushing your hands down the front of your clothes to brush off the invisible dust and compose yourself, your eyes scan the park for a white haired beanpole and two children. 
it’s not difficult to find the children as the boy – megumi, you think shoko said (she’d given you a quick debrief of what satoru had told her about the children over the phone on your walk there) – is a mini version of his dad. a shudder ran down your spine involuntarily the instant your eye caught sight of the spiky-haired boy. you try to push away the unease; it’s likely megumi barely even knows or remembers his dad, or at least you hope for his sake he doesn’t. either way it’s not far for you to cast judgement yet. the sister is close behind him, running circles around a slide four times their heights.
satoru is sitting on a bench, his gaze focused on the two small children. well, you assume so since that's the way his head is turned. he’s wearing his usual black glasses and tokyo uniform. to any outsider, he looks bored, like an older brother forced to take care of his siblings as his long limbs lounge on the bench. but you know better – his knee is bouncing and he keeps running one hand through his white hair, revealing an undercut beneath it. he’s just as stressed as you are. 
good, as he should be.
he knows you're there. he’s a special grade sorcerer after all, probably the most powerful of them all, he must’ve sensed your cursed energy the second you came within a mile of this place. still, he doesn’t turn his head, even as you walk down the path to him. 
though somewhere deep down you still long for him and what you had, every step closer you feel the same anger and resentment towards him bubbling up and threatening to spill over the surface. meeting him in a public area with impressionable children’s ears around is definitely not your finest idea. you’re within several yards from him now and you’re really starting to think this is a bad idea. 
satoru is a bad idea.
sitting gingerly on the edge of the bench next to him, you pick quietly at the skin around your nails. neither of you speak for several minutes. satoru still seems too afraid to even acknowledge that you’re there. he’s woken up too many times from a dream with you in his arms to an empty bed that he lay in alone, no trace of your perfume on the other side of the bed anymore.
the tension between you two is thick and palpable. 
“they’re cute kids.” you’re the one to break the silence as the two of them begin climbing a spider web apparatus. satoru hums in agreement and his knee slowly halts its bouncing. 
there’s two beats before you let your frustration spill over the edge. “you’re a dick you know that?” so much for your concern about doing this in this locatiom.
satoru’s mouth slacks a little, and he begins to utter something but you shake your head at him to cut him off.
“that was rhetorical. there’s no defending or denying that. it’s fact,” you laugh dryly, crossing your arms in front of yourself as you watch on at the park. in the corner of your eyes, you can see satoru slip off his glasses revealing his own cerulean eyes to you. you avoid them though, if you are going to stay and make this work you need to get all of this off your chest. and preferably without balling your eyes out again. 
“i cried a lot at first,” you continue, “blamed myself for suguru turning away,” he winces and does so again when you cement that point, “blamed myself for taking your best friend from you. i started having those nightmares of haibara calling me a murderer again.” he knows every word you say is true – he caused the former and he would be the one you’d come to when the latter had first started. it breaks his heart to be reminded of the agony he caused you – how he wasn’t there to pick up the pieces from the damage he caused.
following haibara’s death, there were some nights neither of you would get any sleep. you were afraid of what you’d see when you closed your eyes and satoru was afraid of losing you. so he would stay up with you, more often than not sitting against the backboard of the bed, your body curled up tightly against his as you watched funny compilations on his phone (he thought they were hilarious, you just wanted to hear his laugh). for satoru to throw that back in your face after geto’s defection tarnished any comfort you’d ever associated with him. 
it didn’t matter that he’d carved a permanent spot in your heart, the idea of letting him in that close again sends shudders down your spine. he had you in the palm of his hands and he destroyed you.
you take a deep breath and dare to glance over at satoru. his expression is blank but his eyes scream how he feels, the swirls of blue glassy as you relay all that he put you through. 
he had been aware of the hurt he’d caused you – of course he had, he felt it too – seen it on your face when you’d pass him in the hallways. you lacked enthusiasm in class and often went on missions alone without complaint (something you never previously did because how dare the higher-ups send you on a job hours away without anyone to talk to).
“and then i nearly died.” satoru’s brows furrow at this, he’d still kept tabs on you to a certain extent. so how had this slipped through the cracks? “two grade one curses among other nuisances,” you hum, “i shouldn’t have been there alone… but i wasn’t surprised the higher ups had sent me.” there’s something else missing there, how you would’ve never been sent on such a mission of satoru was still with you. the higher ups hated the power you held over their special grade, but they weren’t stupid enough to put you in significant harm’s way when you were together. 
“i’m sor–”
“gojo! can we get some ice cream?” tsumiki runs up to the two of you, cutting off his futile attempt at an apology. her little cheeks are flushed red from the exercise and megumi pokes his head out from behind her, eyes zeroed in on you. 
“who are you?” 
you flicker your gaze between satoru and the children who are awaiting your answer. for once, the white-haired sorcerer is at a loss for words. you want to scoff. 
standing up, you offer a small smile, “just a friend.” you point to the ice cream parlour on the opposite side of the park and nudge satoru’s shoulder gently, “go treat them to ice cream. we can talk about the logistics of this later.”
“this?” he repeats, sitting up straight, and a flash of hope dashes across his features. “so you’re staying?” 
tsumiki’s eyes are bright and full of excitement at the prospect of a treat and it reminds you of haibara. you blink harshly and quickly as you try not to let a tear slip past.
“they deserve better than what we had.” what you had.
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series masterlist
a/n. next part will defo be the longest part!! expect fluff, angst, some spice, the whole SHEBANG. I have mocks coming up soon but I'm hoping the next instalment will be up in the next 3-4 weeks. thank you all for being so patient and I hope this meets expectations &lt;3
also a massive thank you to @bontensh0e because they massively helped with the inspo for the rest of the series. ly loads <333
taglist. @sanokiss. @dummyf. @erenssin. @makiuchiha97. @sosoa. @cole-silas. @fenrysashryver. @istanuwow. @dovahkiinsbitch. @mor-pheus. @creolequeen11210. @thefictionalcharacterssimp. @mariapierce789. @cynopcis.
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scoonsalicious · 25 days
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Unwanted: Chapter 25, Unprotected - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of: death, violence, torture, drug use, promiscuity, more spiraling, self-loathing.
Word Count: 240
Previously On...: Sam had to leave town, and now you're on this mission all alone.
A/N: OK! Ya'll are lucky I just wrote something that made me WEEP, so I need a pick-me-up! Here's Part 1 of Chapter 25!
HAVING SAID THAT! CHAPTER 25 HAS SOME HEAVY THEMES THAT I AM *NOT* INCLUDING IN THE WARNING TO AVOID SPOILERS. IF YOU NEED TO KNOW WHAT IT IS FOR YOUR OWN SANITY/MENTAL HEALTH, DM ME!!!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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It was three days later when the news reported that Chloe’s body had been found in the sand dunes a few miles south of the city limits. She’d been sexually assaulted, tortured. The police were not disclosing cause of death at this time.
She had lied to you. According to the news, she was only fifteen years old, not eighteen, like she’d said. A child. 
In the days that followed, you blamed yourself. How could you not? You’d been there, you’d been right there when they took her, and you’d been too high out of your mind to notice, to do a damned thing about it, and now she was dead. In a weird way you couldn’t fully understand, you felt like you had been responsible for murdering your younger self.
And so, you spiraled. Without Sam around to keep you grounded, it was surprisingly easy. You took drugs you bought at the club (though always at the apartment, never while you were undercover–never again). You drank. You fucked. Anything you could do to numb the gnawing guilt you felt in your chest, even for just a little while. But it was never enough. Chloe’s face was always there, in the back of your mind, begging to know why you failed her, what she had done to make her not worthy of saving her life. But how could you tell a ghost that you were the one who wasn’t worthy?
<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->
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kaciidubs · 6 months
Text
Binge Watch [Season 2 - Episode 1]
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-🪼 [Jellyfish nonnie]
❣ Summary: You had plans to watch the new season of Jujutsu Kaisen with Jisung - turns out he had something else he'd rather do. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 880 ❣ Warnings: Slight Dom! Reader, Sub! Jisung, smut, fluff, slight humor, no anime spoilers, oral [fem receiving], desperation ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Han is referred to as Jisung, Ji, Sungie, and baby, Reader is referred to as Jagi, and baby, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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"I promise I'll still listen to the show!" He said.
"You won't even notice I'm there, please, Jagi." He begged.
Of course, you and your hubris went on to believe that Han Jisung was capable of multitasking while his head was between your thighs; which turned out just as you thought it would.
"Ji, can you be a little- mm, fuck, you be a little quieter? I can't hear the TV if you keep moaning like that."
You'd barely gotten into the first episode of the newest season of Jujutsu Kaisen and your oral-obsessed boyfriend had already made himself at home between your legs.
After arduously avoiding spoilers as best as you could, today was the day that you both would camp out on the couch in the living room and binge watch all of the episodes that were released.
That is, until he cuddled next to you with those pouty lips and round, pleading eyes as he begged for a quick round before you got started. Of course you denied him, knowing that if you'd given him the pass, then you wouldn't be watching any episodes until well into the afternoon.
No, today was binge watch day, and you would be vigilant and stand your ground against anything that tried to sway your plans.
That vigilance folded like origami the moment he said he'd do all of the work, and turned out to be a beautiful crane when he revealed that all he really wanted to do was give you head.
So, here you were; pajama shorts and panties in a pile on the floor, a couch pillow tucked under your head as you laid across the sofa with Jisung settled perfectly between your legs, lips already shining with your arousal.
"Mm, 'm sorry," he mumbled against your pussy, lifting his head to take a shivering breath, "you taste so good, I can't help it."
"Yeah, well, keep it down - we're missing crucial plot here and there's no time to rewi- Oh my god-"
You tossed your head back onto the pillow it was resting on, a shiver coursing through your body as his tongue met your pussy clit yet again, flicking and swirling around the bud like second nature.
"J-Ji, I'm serious, we made a p-promise!" Despite the discouraging whine in your voice, your hand made its way to the crown of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging at the strands.
"I-" He released himself from your cunt with a wet slurp, "-said that I would listen, you're the one who's supposed to be watching!"
A flash of colors caught your peripheral, and you turned your head to catch the action happening on the screen - fully invested into the anime once more until you felt Jisung sliding a finger inside of you.
"I thought you only wanted to eat me out, mister." You tried to tease, though your pretty words lost their influence when he slid a second alongside the first, massaging you in a way that made your eyes roll.
You tried your best to focus on the show again, truly you did, but the unrelenting lapping of your boyfriend's tongue along with the steady thrusts of his fingers made dividing your attention ultimately useless.
"Just like that, baby - oh, fuck, your tongue feels amazing."
You could feel him melt at your praise, doubling his efforts and pressing his face impossibly deeper into your pussy - you weren't even sure if he was able to breathe at this point, but he didn't seem too bothered by it.
It wasn't too long until your legs were trembling, fingers tightening in his hair as you found yourself riding his fingers and mouth.
"Y-Yes, yes! Ji, I'm gonna come- 'm gonna come!"
He curled his fingers, flicking his tongue against your clit and sending you tumbling over the edge with a broken moan.
Jisung groaned blissfully, drinking you up like you were an ice cold bottle of water after days in the desert; eager tongue licking around his fingers as they tried to coax more of your cum out of you.
He mumbled something against your clit and you snorted out an airy laugh, "Didn't anyone teach you not to speak with your mouth full, baby?"
Loosening your grip on his hair, you watched as he lifted his head from the glory that was between your thighs, face flushed and eyes fogged over in a happiness only a few things could give him.
"We'll have to rewatch the first episode again," he rasped, making a show of licking his shiny lips, "because I definitely wasn't listening to it."
You rolled your eyes, registering the sound of the outro theme playing through the speakers, "Fine, but you better keep your mouth to yourself, you hear me? If you're good then maybe, maybe, I'll let you fuck me after episode five." Emphasizing your point, you clenched your walls around the fingers that were still inside of you, smirking when his jaw dropped.
"Can I eat you out again if we make it through the second episode?"
Grabbing the remote to the TV, you pressed the back arrow and watched the progress bar rewind itself, "I don't know, we'll have to see when we make it to the second episode."
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smokeys-house · 3 months
Text
I know the moomins has a (relatively) small fandom on tumblr but I'm begging you when March 7th comes and Snufkin: Melody of Moominvalley comes out to please tag your spoilers consistently 👁👁 It's not like I think they'll have some crazy reveal we've never heard of before but I feel like most people would like to see things in the game without being spoiled
I'd personally suggest "snufkin game" and "snufkin game spoilers" since "smom" isn't a very specific acronym but "snufkin melody of moominvalley spoilers" is also sensible
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bedoballoons · 6 months
Note
HIII haven’t seen me in awhile, I had to get surgery doneeeeee. But I just saw the new mitsuri heandcannons and 👌🤩 beautiful.
well 8 have a new request, can you do when mitsuri shows off her INHUMAN strength? Also just to clarify, mitsuri does not gain much s weight at all because it mostly gets turned into protein cells….?… idk I forgot but she is just insecure because of what others might think of her.
SPOILERS: so mitsuri has the strength/ if not more than I a demon from that Uni. So her strength is about more than human. For me I think still lower of an adeptis but still INCREDIBLY strong for a human. Cuz during the final battle she rips off the arm of Muzan, the demon king which I think is almost/same strength of an adeptis???… idk
Hello!!! Welcome back! I hope you're doing well after your surgery and making sure to rest! Im sorry it's taken me awhile to get to your request but I will do my best to make it worth the wait!
P.s You didn't mention which characters you wanted to I just went with the characters that were in the past one! Hope that's alright <3
─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂
{༻~Mitsuri strengths~༺}
CW: Fluffy! Slight fighting mentioned! Reader is described as very strong! Established relationships with the characters!
Also in case you'd like to read my other demon slayer works they are all tagged in the linked post:
Here for more!
(Includes: Diluc, Lyney, Albedo, and Wanderer!)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
𑁍༄Diluc:
"Watch out they are-" Dilucs words of warning would ring in your ear for only a second before the lawlchurl dashed at you, anyone else would have screamed in terror, maybe ran, but you stood still, taking the beast by the horns the second it got close enough. The giant thing was no match for you and within seconds you'd taken it down, standing ontop of it victoriously while your boyfriend stared at you in disbelief.
"Diluc-"
"You're beyond even my wildest dreams...I love you."
𑁍༄Lyney:
"Oh my..."
Lyney was in a trance...with his heart beating heavily in his chest and his head spinning with a type of yearning only you gave him. How had he never seen you in combat...
"Lyney are you alright? Did you get hurt?"
"No...I am just going to stand here for a moment longer and try to calm myself after that...truly enticing battle."
"Enticing?"
"My love, you have got me wrapped around your finger more than you realize..."
𑁍༄Albedo:
"Incredible."
You turned to face Albedo, wondering if he'd been hit over the head when you weren't looking, but to your surprise...he had a soft blush on his cheeks and a almost dazed with love expression, "Uh...you okay?"
"Yes, my apologies I just...you're so strong. I just witnessed you taking out a rather large group of monsters with no trouble at all and I must say, it's left me feeling a bit flustered...I'm in awe of you."
𑁍༄Wanderer:
"Just let me handle it!" Wanderer jumped in front of you, prepared to take out anyone who attempted to hurt you...ready to protect you till the end.
"You don't need to."
"What the hell are you talki-"
You maneuvered around him, using your strength to best your opponents one by one, leaving none able to do anything but run away begging for mercy. It was easy for you, unnatural for a normal woman...but Wanderer seemed more pleased than unhappy with it...even a little blushed.
"You...when did you get so strong hmph...next time I'm gonna stand behind you instead."
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧
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snippy-tano · 1 year
Note
See now I'm having a thought about Medic!reader who is on the tram with them and sees Tech fall. When they all wake up and Hunter ushers everyone to the ship, they stay behind and go looking for Tech and find him alive but seriously injured and unconscious.
They find a small cave and they hide out there until they know it's safe to comm someone to come and get them. Maybe Rex or Echo or Riyo🥺❤️
I just need reader softly taking care of Tech and him waking up like "you were supposed to leave."
And they say "I could never leave you."
Your choice whether the relationship is established or it's just hidden feeling that come out here❤️❤️❤️
Prooooooooooo
Thank you for this. This was incredibly therapeutic. I may have gotten carried away and y’all should let me know if I should continue this as like an actual fic. Because oooooh boy is it tempting.
Anyway, I hope you like it! And I hope this helps you just as much as it helped me lol
WARNING SPOILERS! THERE ARE SPOILERS FOR TBB S2 FINALE! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK :')
Masterlist is here!
Taglist is here!
Tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life; @marvel-starwars-nerd; @mackstrut; @dissapointingpancake; @ahsokatano-thetogruta; @welcometothepedroverse; @fractiouskat; @mandaloriandin; @bantha-shit; @badbatch-simp24; @katelynnwrites; @s1st3r; @leotatombs; @torchbearerkyle; @rain-on-kamino; @the-navistar-carol; @bombshe77; @arctrooper69; @social-mockingbird; @littlebluebatbrat; @get-wr3ckered; @dangraccoon
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Falling
Everything happened so fast, you almost thought it was all a dream. Or rather a nightmare.
One second you were helping provide cover as Tech worked to get the tram moving. The next he had fallen and Wrecker was working to pull him back up aboard the train.
“Don’t you do it, Tech.”
It was the pleading tone in Wrecker’s voice that had you turning from where you had taken cover. You were moving towards the back of the tram before anyone could stop you. You stopped just behind Omega and looked down to see Tech raise his head before raising his blaster.
A pit formed in your stomach as you began to panic.
No no no no no no no no
“When have we ever followed orders.”
Then he fired.
And you screamed, loudly and gutterly.
The tram jerked upright and took off, you stumbled against the wall, blinking slowly. You could hear the batch screaming at each other, but weren’t making out any of what they were saying. You only held onto your trembling hands, feeling like the edges of your vision were darkening rapidly.
You only caught the shout of needing to brace yourself, your instincts numbly forcing you to comply.
Then your vision really did go black.
When you came to, everything in your body ached. Your ribs protested every breath and you knew you were in rough shape. You gingerly lifted your head, seeing yourself surrounded by smoking wreckage.
Omega’s voice had you turning just in time to see her collapse. With a groan of effort, you climbed to your feet, hand pressing against your side. You met eyes with Hunter and he hesitated.
Please Hunter, I have to go back. You practically begged in your mind, hoping he would understand.
It looked like he was going to protest, likely saying that he couldn’t lose anyone else, but you couldn’t let him choose for you. You had to do this.
So you turned and ran as fast as your ribs would let you into the woods. You could hear Wrecker and Echo yell for you, but you didn’t stop. You’re honestly not sure how you managed to move so quickly and for so long, although you figured it was probably the adrenaline.
Eventually you fell to your knees, squeezing your eyes shut as a way of hopefully shutting out the pain. You had bacta patches in your med pack, but you refused to use any. If you found Tech and by some miracle of the Force he was alive, you knew he would need every patch you had.
After your vision cleared, you forced yourself back to your feet and continued walking in the direction of your best guess as to where Tech fell. You weren’t running anymore, but you kept a good pace, knowing that the Empire would be out looking for Tech very soon.
If you found him, you had to move quickly.
Eventually, you found what looked like wreckage from the tram. Your heart began to pound as you began to pick through it, looking for any sign of Tech.
Then you saw it. Armor.
You swallowed your nerves and forced air into your lungs as you stepped over the smoking debris. The running of water nearby and the sound of your own haggard breathing was all you could hear. You knelt beside Tech, hand hesitating. His helmet was gone and he definitely looked like he had fallen from a great distance, but it was hard to tell if he was still alive.
You pressed your fingers against the side of his neck, praying to every god or deity you knew about, begging them that he would be alive. For a few agonizing seconds, you felt nothing.
And then you felt it, the very gentle thump of his heart beat. It was weak, incredibly so, but he was alive. You almost burst into tears right then and there, but you knew the Empire was on their way if not already almost here.
You had to move. Now.
Tech was bigger than you, but you had to move him and fast. You stripped off a few pieces of armor, tossing them closer to the large river that you were near. Maybe the Empire would think he fell into the water and go searching further down the river. It would hopefully buy you both some time. Then you sat him up, placed his arms over your shoulders and stood up.
He was by no means a small man. He may be the “skinniest” in the Batch, but he was still built like a soldier, which meant that he was an incredible deadweight. Your legs shook from the effort, but you managed to hold him steady.
His helmet and goggles were missing, but you didn’t have time to go looking for them. Your sole focus was getting the both of you out of there and to a relatively safe location as fast as you could. Tech had injuries that needed to be tended to immediately. In any normal situation, you wouldn’t have moved him for fear of a neck or back injury. But you didn’t have that option.
After a quick feel of his neck, it didn’t seem like anything was broken, which was good enough for you.
You moved through the clearing, stepping around debris as best you could. Thankfully the ground wasn’t wet or muddy, so the likelihood of footprints being left behind were small. But still, you zigzagged as much as you dared, stepping where there were already indents in the grass in an effort to conceal your path.
You were two klicks away when you heard Imperial ships zoom just above the tree line over you. For one horrifying second you thought they were going to spot you, but they continued on, heading the direction you had just come from. The burning in your ribs became background noise as you tightened your grip on Tech’s arms and began to move faster.
You had been walking for what felt like hours. Every inch of your body was burning with effort and breathing was becoming more difficult. But you somehow kept going. You knew Tech was still hanging on because you could feel his soft puffs of breath against your neck. It was honestly the only thing keeping you going.
The way you carried him was far from ideal. There were many other ways that are better for medic carries in a situation like this, but considering Tech was fully unconscious, the odds of getting him up across your shoulders were small. This was the best you could do in the situation you were presented.
The elevation began to increase and the burning in your legs only intensified. You stumbled once, your heart leaping into your throat. But you managed to keep a hold of Tech and when you could breathe again, you continued walking.
As the light in the sky started to dim, you stumbled across a cave. It was hidden from the air from all the tree cover. You almost didn’t see it from the ground due to the high bushes and brush covering the entrance. It was far from ideal, but once again, it was likely the best you could do.
You only hoped there were no creatures inside who had the same idea you did.
The bushes cut into your pants as you forced your way inside, but those were minor scrapes, you had much more pressing injuries that needed tending to on Tech. You moved further into the cave, hoping to get far enough that when you started a small fire, it wouldn’t be spotted from outside. The cave had a bend and you rounded it, blinking in the darkness. Your eyes quickly adjusted and you could see that the cave continued on to the right, but there was a wall running along the back. It would do well for hiding the two of you.
Your legs shook from overuse as you carefully kneeled, turning Tech so you could gently place him on the ground. For a few seconds, you hunched over, breathing heavily.
Your entire body ached, from both the crash and the effort of carrying so much deadweight as far as you did. Your ribs made every inhale and exhale remarkably painful and you breathed as even as you could to try and lessen the pain.
When you were sure your vision was cleared, you yanked off your medpack and began to pull everything out. You pulled out a small orb and hit it, bathing the corner of the cave in a soft light. You grabbed a small flashlight and leaned over Tech, lifting up his eyelids and flashing the light. His pupils dilated as they should, which was a good sign.
You set the light down and began to search him for injuries. You scanned him and found he had a lot of broken bones, but thankfully no internal bleeding. It was a relief.
You fell into an easy trance, pulling off his armor and placing bacta patches on his worst injuries and splinting where you needed. You very quickly ran out of bacta patches, but still did your best to set everything so the bones would heal properly. When you were truly out of supplies, you covered him up with a shock blanket, placing your jacket underneath his head.
You brushed a hand across his cheek, beyond thankful that he was alive and you had been quick enough to find him.
Your troubles were far from over. You were still trapped on this planet with a severely injured trooper and your own injuries. You couldn’t stay here until you both healed, but neither of you were in any shape to fight your way out right now. You could try to call for help, but there was always a chance of it being intercepted and you both being caught anyways.
You’d have to wait for Tech to wake up to call for help. Hopefully he would be able to think of ideas on how you can get out of your predicament. But for now, you both needed to get some rest.
You wanted to lay down, but you knew once you did that you were not getting up again for a while. So you climbed to your feet and grabbed a small silent alarm you kept in your med pack before heading to the mouth of the cave around the corner. You gathered some wood from just outside the cave and set the alarm before pushing through the brush and fluffing it back up once inside.
The small fire you made didn’t take long to start.
You would have to go out for more wood very soon, but at least for now there would be some warmth for the both of you. You found a spare roll of gauze at the bottom of your pack and got to work pulling off your own armor until you were only covered by one layer of clothing. Painstakingly, you wrapped the gauze around your abdomen.
It wouldn’t do much for the broken bones, but at least you had some support. They were crudely wrapped, but it was the best you could do for now.
When you finished, you eased yourself onto the cold cave floor. Your entire body hurt and was trying to lull you into sleep. But with Tech still unconscious, you knew that someone had to stay awake.
So you started talking.
At first you talked through medical triage. You walked yourself through your training manual that you basically had memorized at this point. Then you talked through a few specific procedures you had learned along the way as a combat medic. Then when you ran out of that, you started to talk about your life. You talked about your home planet, your family, how you grew up, your hopes and dreams then, your hopes and dreams now, how you ended up joining the GAR, your first mission with the Batch and how quickly you’d come to love them like family.
You were just beginning to talk about a holodrama you and Omega were in the process of watching when you heard movement.
You stopped talking and looked over at Tech. He wasn’t awake yet, but he was starting to stir. As quickly as your ribs would allow, you sat up and moved over to where he was laying. You adjusted the blanket covering him and hovered, watching as his eyes slowly flickered open.
His eyes widened and he started to sit up, but you placed your hands on his shoulders and forced him back down.
“It’s okay. You’re safe, relatively speaking. But you have a lot of injuries, so you shouldn’t move.” You said and he blinked, taking a few deep breaths.
“You are correct. I will take your advice and remain from moving.” He replied and you let out a breath, relaxing ever so slightly. You reached forward, pulling the blanket so it more fully covered him.
“You were supposed to leave.” Tech said quietly and you let out a sigh.
You knew he was going to bring it up eventually, you had just hoped it wouldn’t be almost immediately after waking up. It shouldn’t surprise you though, this was Tech you were talking about.
You played with a seam on your sleeve that had torn in the crash. “I could never leave you.”
Silence fell for a moment and you let out a breath. Everything about this mission had gone wrong from the moment you set foot on this planet. More than anything you wished it had played out differently, but that is not what the galaxy had planned for you.
You knew Tech would likely scold you, saying the rest of the Batch’s wellbeing outweighs his own life. You knew that he was likely correct in that thinking. The needs of the many often outweigh the needs of the few.
But with Tech, you tended to throw all that out the window.
You had never admitted it to anyone before, but you’d always had a soft spot for him. It started out harmless enough. When you were assigned to work with the Batch, he was always the one that never really seemed to take care of himself. So as a medic, you took on that responsibility. You did it for all of them really, but Tech seemingly needed it the most.
Very quickly after that, your motives changed from just doing your medic duties to doing it because you cared. Then it shifted again to just plain affection. You had no idea when that grew into a crush, but it eventually did. You never said anything, and you never planned on saying anything. Your lives were all crazy enough as it is that there was no time.
And if today was any indication, it was too dangerous. Anything could happen to anyone.
Tech cleared his throat and you closed your eyes, waiting for him to tell you that you made the wrong choice.
He surprised you by placing his hand over yours.
Your eyes snapped up and you met his gaze. “Thank you. Without you, I shudder to think at what would have come of me.”
You let out a shaky breath, nodding. His hand gave yours a squeeze and made no move to let go. Not that you were complaining.
“How are you feeling? What’s your pain level?” You asked and he thought for a moment.
“I am feeling like I fell off a train.”
“Tech.”
“Apologizes. My pain is manageable. Thank you for providing me aid. Have you treated your injuries?” He asked and you nodded.
“Yes. I have.”
“You shouldn’t lie to me, cyar’ika.”
You averted your eyes as your heart thumped in your chest. “I did what I had to do. Don’t worry about me, my injuries were minor. Now you need to get some rest. The more you sleep, the quicker your injuries will heal.
“I am not tired. I have been unconscious for some time now. You, on the other hand, need to rest as well. I will wake you in a few hours, I promise.” Tech insisted and you tried to formulate an argument, but you also knew if something happened, you would also need to be rested, especially as the one currently in the best health.
He must have sensed your resistance fading because he gave your hand another squeeze. “Get some rest. Please.”
You found yourself nodding before you could say no. Tech seemed pleased with himself, but you were too tired to care. You tried to hide your wince as you sank down to the floor, but it was hard to keep your face passive. Tech didn’t comment on it though, which you appreciated.
“Two hours Tech. Wake me up in two hours.”
His hand found yours again before giving it a squeeze. “I promise.”
You tried to fight your exhaustion, but it all hit you at once. You drifted to sleep with Tech’s warm hand tightly holding yours. You didn’t know what would happpen when you woke up, but Tech was alive and so were you.
And that was enough.
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beesinspades · 9 months
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TRIGUN FIC REC LIST (FOR FANFIC WRITERS APPRECIATION DAY 2023)
For years I haven’t been able to participate much because I barely read any fics anymore, but Trigun has definitely changed that, so here it is! A rec list of every fic I’ve enjoyed so far! I have terrible memory and not enough brain power to leave a note about each one, but I put a ♡ next to every fic I particularly loved! They're all rated G or T, but five of them are rated M (mainly for violence and canon-typical heavy topics). A lot (I mean. a lot.) of them have a Hurt/Comfort tag. Most are Vashwood BUT there are 10+ Gen fics and a couple of Mashwood ones as well :3 Please note some of the fics in this list are not spoiler-free!
VASHWOOD
♡ tell me why your hands are cold (show me how) by desertblooms
Beelio’s comment: the first Trigun fic I ever read, so of course it’s a lil’ bit special to me!
♡ terrors don't prey on innocent victims by procrastinatingbookworm
♡ Heavy Weight by eshtaresht
Beelio’s comment: I only read the Wolfwood POV chapter. As the first ace Vash(wood) I read besides mine, it made me really happy!
The Problem with Making Friends by sad_ghost_kid
half your life you've been hooked on death by procrastinatingbookworm
♡ stars by the pocketful by the_13th_battalion
Beelio’s comment: gave me cavities and i said thank you
♡ a phantom's reverence by bricus27
Beelio’s comment: another one of my favorites!
♡ heaven's grief brings hell's rain by JazzRaft
say it's such a fault by procrastinatingbookworm
A Ship and his Anchor by DerringerMeryl
lazarus wept by Bioluminescent
shepherd my flock by Bioluminescent
Beelio's comment: a really cool concept with Wolfwood as a church grim!
♡ a spark of hope is what i'm after by IceEckos12 
work song by AllegedlyAnnie
♡ Breezeblocks by caffeinefire
two eggs, over easy by AllegedlyAnnie
Beelio’s comment: this one is just so funny. trust me. 
dear star and spring bud, my preachers by elemmacil
"Love nourishes, like the rain. We turn the hills green and fill the creeks so they will sing in their creekbeds." by selcouth_raw 
♡♡♡ water bucket blues by fathomfive
Beelio’s comment: literally begging you to read this. good god. I never read first person pov fics AND YET. probably my favorite Trigun fic!
safeguard by the_13th_battalion
in a phrase to cut these lips by gorgongorgeous
Of Nick and Nicholas Names by theMusicmaniac
♡ under the bloody moonlight by spinoffprotagonist
Even Angels Deserve Guardians by glaivenoct
♡ scattered feathers, shattered glass by SpiritusRex
MASHWOOD
and i'll love the littler things by procrastinatingbookworm
To Touch You by hypermoyashi
GEN
The Sobs of a Bear and the Tears of an Angel by loveandpeanus
♡ How Judas Earned His Name by BrownieFox
♡ nobody said it was easy by procrastinatingbookworm
Beelio’s comment: this gorgeous post-trimax fic made me cry which is a feat in itself
♡ if only there was some way to ease the pain by SpiritusRex
the river brings you home by tissuebocks
♡ For the world that we leave, not the world that we found by RedWritingHood
I wanna feel like the work had some meaning by RedWritingHood
Season of the Witch by tragic_unpaired_electron
What Was Taken, What Was Restored (series) by Anxiety_Elemental
♡ If You Had Not Have Fallen by aboxthecolourofheartache
♡ YOU ARE HERE; or, How to Get Lost in the Desert Without Really Dying by fathomfive
Start here by AsterAspera
Now everyone knows about my tastes in fanfiction. If you read any of them, please leave a nice comment for the author if you can, I'm sure you'll make their day! 💜 Happy Fanfic Writers Appreciation Day to my fellow fic writers! Thank you for feeding me (us) so well.
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a-random-weeb · 6 months
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Omg has anyone seen 'Sugar apple fairy tale'
it's not popular at all, and it's the girlest anime you will ever watch in your life BUT ITS SO GOOD MAN
like, Challe is so hot, I just started watching the anime. I don't normally simp for emo anime characters idk why I'm so obsessed with Challe. The art style is SO PRETTY TOO. If you haven't watched it, watch it. I don't even know why I love it so much, j just do, there's something about it that's just- y'know- idk
if you haven't seen it WATCH IT
anyways comment/message me if you you've watched it I'd love to chat with fellow fans (No spoilers though)
also if you see this someone I'm begging you to write a Challe x reader fanfic (and tag me in it) PLEASE
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shintin · 9 months
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Glory-Hole
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↳ Vash the Stampede x Female Reader
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One-shot (A cut from Gunpowder Dreams fic)
Summary: Trapped in a mafia's clutches, you embark on a daring escape from the relentless grip of Vash, the enigmatic boss. However, freedom comes at a price as you face the unforgiving consequences of your defiance. In this thrilling tale of survival, navigate a treacherous world where alliances shift, and shadows hold secrets. Can you outwit the formidable Vash and break free, or will you succumb to the merciless retribution that awaits?
(For more details, read the original story linked above.)
Word count: +6 k.
Genre: explicit smut (Mafia au).
Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, Alternative Universe/Modern Setting, no spoilers from manga and anime, dominate Vash the Stampede, dub-con, toxicity, gunplay, manhandling, unprotected sex, biting, etc.
Notes: I just wanted to write gunplay smut.
Disclaimer: The gunplay scene is inspired by the books I've read.
Song Recommendation: Nancy Sinatra - Bang Bang
You can read my fics on AO3 and Wattpad. If you have any questions, don’t be shy and ASK. This is my DISCORD account, in case you want to contact me.
Back to the master list.
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As you sat motionless, a realization gripped you: escape from this house was an unattainable feat. He was smart, but the scariest part was your inability to anticipate a single one of his thoughts. You felt like a dumb rabbit while he, as cunning as a fox, remained one step ahead.
"You're not touching me," you hissed, your voice wobbly and rife with unshed tears.
"What you gonna do if I do?" He directed his gaze toward the ceiling and the pipes. "I'm glad it's the dead of night, and this room is almost soundproof. So, you won't disturb anyone's peaceful slumber."
Driven by instinct, fear propelled you to your feet as you hurriedly made your way to the door, frantically grasping the handle and repeatedly tugging it up and down.
Open!
Please, open!
As you wrestled with the doorknob, attempting to force it open, a sturdy steel arm suddenly encircled your waist and lifted you off the ground.
"NO!" A piercing scream erupted from your lips as you kicked futilely at the space, fiercely resisting his grip.
"Oh, yes, love," he growled, swinging your body towards the wall.
You grunted from the impact, leaning your back against the wall; this time, you used it as leverage to kick against the bastard of a man. "Let me go, you fucking creepy-ass fuck—"
"Keep talking, and you'll just make it worse."
You screeched, out of breath and growing weaker, as he pinned your flailing body against the wall, rendering you powerless.
"We had a deal, didn't we?" Vash asked in a panting tone.
A tear spilt over your lid. And then another and another until you were on the verge of sobbing again. "We had, but—"
"Don't cry, love," he cooed. "It's going to get so much worse."
His breath skated over your cheek as he pressed himself further into your body, just like in the previous encounter. Towering over you, his larger frame enveloped you completely until all you could see, feel, and smell was him—his warmth, the distinctive scent that was uniquely his, and the way his black-clad body surrounded you.
"I like you scared," he whispered, sending shivers down your core. "I like you begging and pleading. Crying out for imaginary Gods to save you."
You felt the touch of leather on your face, and you flinched away. His fingers delicately traced a path from your cheekbone to your hair, gently tucking stray strands behind your ear. "I like you trembling beneath my touch, uncontrollably."
"You're sick," you snapped, doing just that. You were shaking from head to toe, and you couldn't seem to stop it.
“You think your pleas will only arise when your life is at stake, but you are mistaken," he grunted, letting out a deep, mocking laugh. "In due time, you will beg for my touch, craving it desperately."
"That'll never happen," you hissed, glaring at him with all your might. Or at least you thought you were. The dim light emanating from the ceiling lights shadowed his eyes. It felt almost like being far-sighted. Your face was so close to something, but clarity evaded you. The shadows were a part of him. He carried them around.
"It's time to punish you, and I've thought of the many ways I could do this," he said, ignoring your jab. It only infuriated you more that he found your lack of consent so inconsequential. So… worthless. "I'll be nice this time." You opened your mouth, but he cut you off with a deep growl of warning, "But only if you reciprocate, love."
Your teeth audibly snapped together, the sound punctuating the air and drawing yet another amused grunt from him. Your pride took a hit, and you wanted to knee him in the balls for it, but you couldn't lift your leg an inch as you tried.
"You freak! What are you going to do?" you spat out, the stutter of your words in sync with the beat of your heart. His searing breath brushed against your cheek as you felt the gentle glide of his lips tracing along your jawline. You swallowed but nearly choked from how dry your throat had become. Those lips descend to the column of your neck, skittering along until he paused on the spot right below your ear.
"I'm gonna play with my toy," he declared right before his teeth clamped down. Your back arched involuntarily, repulsion and pleasure marrying in your nerves, sending misfires to your brain. All coherent thoughts escaped from your mind, leaving behind only primal instincts to guide your actions.
But, somehow, as if he was electrocuted, he distanced himself. His gaze shifted downwards towards the collar of his shirt. The cross was there, concealed on his chest. His eyes changed momentarily, remorseful, maybe disgusted by what he had become. As if he was lost, struggling to find himself, but instead, his eyes found you—the one with the answers.
You wished you could show him hatred, but seeing your pleasure, he groaned, his teeth piercing as his tongue lapped at your flesh. Your mouth opened, and a silent scream suctioned away just as his mouth did the same, drawing in deep like he was drinking the essence from your body. And then, with a lingering sensation of pain, he withdrew, his teeth grazing your skin as he released his hold, leaving behind a stinging reminder.
Your hands pressed into his chest for stability or to push him away. You were not sure. Though your question was quickly answered when instinct coerced your hands to curl, gripping his shirt tight and anchoring yourself to him as if he was your lifeline. When in reality, he was the one killing you.
Severe shivers wracked your body when he licked a wet path with his tongue, descending from your neck towards the juncture where your nipples resided. He paused, and it felt as if your body teetered precariously over a sharpened blade. You held your breath, the anticipation rattling your bones. And then he was biting down again, pulling an animalistic sound from your chest. He did this, over and over, leaving behind a trail of bruises that marked his territory along your neck and across your shoulder.
You were breathless by the time he pulled away. "Good girl," he finally exhaled, his own voice airy. Somehow, that made you feel worse. You wanted him to hate it as much as you should've. "You like this, don't you?"
"I…ah," you panted, trying hard to conceal the depths of your desires because you were revealing more and more as he went further. You were fucking seconds away from reaching out and grabbing his cock through his pants and begging him to fuck you since you hadn't been touched by a human for a long time, let alone a man, and this thing in front of you had the power to make you momentarily forget everything, despite being the very reason for your need to escape reality. Then something occurred to your mind.
You couldn't explain why you did what you did next. You would ask Gods later. But at that moment, you were so overcome with a tsunami of emotions that you reached up and bit his tattooed neck. Hard, and you didn't care, just bit harder. Maybe you wanted to hurt him back, give him a taste of his own medicine, make him feel whatever you felt.
Regardless of the reason, he didn't take kindly to it. His hand wrapped around your throat, exerting pressure as he forcefully pushed you back, simultaneously tearing himself away from your body. He was squeezing tightly, but you couldn't care less. You felt justified. If he killed you here and now, at least you could say you left one last mark on him.
He growled low, a sound of frustration and an unnamed emotion that eluded definition. "I'm beginning to think you like to be punished, which means I'm just going to have to do better."
Before you could react, he hoisted you up, effortlessly tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Fucker!" you snapped, your fists pounding against his back as you thrashed your exposed legs. You were not a potato.
A sharp smack to your ass was his only response. "Love, the wind can do more harm than what you're doing."
"Want to see my teeth again, asshole? I'll sure to grab your ugly face this time."
"Keep telling yourself that, but deep down, we both know this face is making you wet," he retorted, amusement coloring his words. Snarling, you resented his fucking unruffled calm. And because he was not entirely wrong. No, dumbass, he was wrong. He must be wrong.
More curses flooded out of your mouth, but they were cut short when he dragged your body down his front until your legs were wrapped around his waist, and he was cradling you to his chest. Oh, fuck this. You lifted your hands to scratch his face, maybe do a little eye-gouging, but instead, you just squealed. He swooped you backward, your stomach bottoming out as he set you on the bed, flat on your back. Your robe came undone, leaving you inadequately covered when he hovered over you, his arms positioned on either side of your head as he braced himself over you. You swallowed, tears pricking your eyes. "What a gentleman! Letting me look at your obnoxious face as you murder me," you mouthed off, forcing the words through your tightened throat.
You really needed to shut the fuck up. But you couldn't seem to stop yourself. Apparently, when you were in a life-threatening situation, all you could manage to do was make it worse. While some might perceive it as fearlessness, you could only assume it as an act of sheer stupidity.
Balancing himself with one hand, he reached behind him with the other. As you prepared to unleash more insults from your mouth, his arm emerged, revealing a tightly gripped gun.
Another audible tick of your teeth later, you were back to being choked silent with fear.
"I told you not to run away. I told you to follow the orders," he stated, his tone bled dry of emotion. "Typically, I would choose to crack open your skull and forcibly implant the words in your brain, but it seems you require a different method to learn your lesson."
"Okay, I'm sorry," you rushed out, your eyes widening as he pointed the gun at your chest. "I-I'm really, rea—"
"Shh," he hushed. "You're not sorry yet, love. But you will be."
A myriad of thoughts ran through your head on what you could possibly say to get out of this. You were sorry clearly, wasn't good enough. "You're going to shoot me?"
Your bladder threatened to explode, and knowing that you might die in a puddle of pee brought tears to your eyes. A bewildering cocktail of emotions engulfed you. Fear had gripped you tightly, its icy tendrils coiling around your heart, as you found yourself trapped in this fucked up situation. Yet, amidst the suffocating grip of fear, there was a grotesque sense of fascination. You couldn't deny the perverse allure that came with the feeling of being trapped, as if a part of you savored being confined, even as it elicited a thrilling sensation. WHAT? What the fuck was wrong with you?
"You gonna taste this gun one way or another," he responded, his tone dripping with impatience. He punctuated his response by dragging the gun down through the valley of your breasts. The weapon continued its way down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your robe's tie. "Will you take the bullet or the gun?" As he inclined his head, his neck tattoos stretched, emphasizing the presence of the pulsating veins that wound their way towards his enigmatic mind. Meanwhile, the small golden loop on his left ear playfully winked at you while he patiently awaited her response.
"Are you fucking serious?" you panicked, your hands gripping the ends of the tie tightly, the fabric moist with sweat. He must be kidding, right?
"I was going to take it easy on you, but when you act like a rabid puppy, you leave me with no choice but to tame you," he said, tracing the tip of his gun along the edges of the robe. "This is your last chance, or I'll do as I see fit."
Your lip trembled, and a single tear slid down your temple. "Please, don't do this."
He cocked a brow, and the act was damning. He appeared so damn unimpressed with your pleas, causing another tear to trace the path of the first. You had to survive, didn't you? You had to endure long enough to witness this man's demise with your own eyes, didn't you? It couldn't hurt that much, could it? Just focus on counting, fixating your gaze upon the cracks in the wall, and listening to the faint chirping of crickets emanating from the pipes.
You gulped and answered, "I-I'll…"
"You'll what? I need you to be loud and clear."
"Y-your…your gun…" you stuttered, words all dropping dead on your dry tongue.
"What about my gun?" he inquired, sliding the weapon beneath the tobe and directing it towards your bellbottoms. " Say it, love. Utilize that sharp tongue of yours that knows how to hurl curses."
With your eyes tightly shut, you released your grip on the tie, your hands trembling. "I... I'll... I'll take the gun."
"Take off your robe," he ordered, moving back a little. "Now!"
Sniffing, you finally listened. Hooking your thumbs into the robe's belt, you undid the tie. You fought the urge to cover yourself. Because you knew that the act of hiding would bring him greater delight than being almost entirely naked before him. He dug the thrill of conquering through struggle, and you were determined to deny him that win. You were only able to slide it a little before the muzzle of the gun got in the way.
He took the hint, grabbed the robe, and harshly moved it aside. More tears followed suit as you stuck your thighs together.
"Open your eyes and look at me."
You did as he said; your gaze got tied with his. Yet, as you stared into his eyes, you noticed something unexpected. No hatred, resentment, or even lust reflected in them. Instead, it was a vacant look devoid of any deeper meaning. It dawned on you that violence was his only language, his sole response to the world around him. He had not learned any other way to navigate life. Perhaps the only bright spot in his existence had been his beloved, cruelly taken away.
Maybe, but maybe in a parallel world, you thought, he could have been a different person—a better person, surrounded by love and family. In that alternate reality, you might have looked at him with a second glance, for his eyes, the deep azure pools, his lips, and his face were reminiscent of something celestial, qualities that angels themselves would possess, not those cast out from heaven.
Vash's touch shocked you back to reality, causing you to startle, as if you were about to leap out of your own skin. You had to beg your bones to stop shaking.
"Next, your hands," he commanded, jerking his gun to emphasize his directive. Reluctantly, you moved your arms away from your body and let them drop onto the sheets with a huff.
"Stunning," he murmured, his eyes tracing over the curves of your body. He leaned over you again, his mouth kissing the last bruise he left on your shoulder. "Do you know what these mean?" he whispered, pressing another gentle kiss to a different spot on your skin.
You shuddered beneath his touch, electricity sprouting from the point of contact and dancing across your skin. You didn't answer, but he didn't seem to mind. "Those marks," he stated with a sense of ownership, "signify that you belong to me."
The tip of his tongue darted out, trailing your flesh as he moved down towards your breasts.
"Don't—"
His teeth pierced the nipple of your left breast before you could finish your futile plea. You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as he left another mark on your skin. "Now, whenever you see these, you'll remember me," he said, claiming your body for his own.
Once satisfied, he moved to the other nipple, leaving his own hickeys on your it. And all you could do was just take it.
When your body was well and abused by his teeth and tongue, he lifted and forced your thighs apart. You strained against him, but it only hurt you in the end. He was too strong. With a firm grip on your waist, his clothed forefinger traced the delicate crease of your groin, starting from the juncture of your thigh and trailing downward towards the very center of your being.
Before his finger reached your clit, he tantalizingly ran it up and down your engorged vulva, coming perilously close to your pussy. The sensations were overwhelming, and you felt deeply ashamed as you realized your body was responding to his touch. You wanted to cover your face because you knew he was feeling your body's betrayal.
"You're drenched," he rasped out, his lips still wet from his saliva. The sweet Vash with kind eyes had vanished entirely.
"That's called discharge! Your stupid ass wouldn't know that!" you snapped, hoping your lie would shoo him away.
He responded with a smile. "As much as I hate to say this to you, I'm no stranger to a woman's pussy and what it feels like when it weeps for me."
Your eyes widened. So this fucker had slept with women too? It seemed he had explored every possible avenue. Disgust curled your lip as you retorted, "Last time I checked, most girls weep because they're upset. Maybe you should take a hint."
He let out a chuckle. "Love, that's exactly what I'm doing."
With a firm grip, he spread your legs apart, baring your pussy to him, where the arousal glistened from within. He muttered a curse under his breath as his eyes hungrily devoured every detail of your being. Another tremble of your lips had you biting down on the traitorous flesh.
With one finger still positioned on your pussy, he raised the gun to your face with his other hand. You flinched back, squeezing your eyes shut and letting loose a startled yelp. "Calm down," he reassured you, his tone strained. "I just want you to suck it."
It took several seconds for his words to register. To process that he didn't pull the trigger and you were not dead. As the comprehension dawned, your eyes flew open, and you shot him a fierce glare. "Why the hell—"
He tapped the gun's tip against your mouth, effectively cutting you off. The remainder of your words dissipated into thin air as he glided the gun across your lips, almost as if he was painting them with lipstick.
"Suck," he ordered, his tone deepening with finality. Closing your eyes against more tears, you opened your mouth and obediently opened your mouth, allowing him to guide the gun between your teeth. You squeezed your lids tighter as you twirled your tongue over the cold metal, cringing from the nasty taste.
"My good girl," he said, pulling the dripping gun out, a trail of saliva following until it snapped.
Your entire body locked when the cool metal slid against your clit. You flinched against the foreign touch of an incredibly dangerous weapon. A wave of pure terror washed over you, and it took all your strength to keep from full-on sobbing.
Holding a gun to your head was far less intimidating than it being held between your legs. A gunshot to the head would bring instant death, but this? This would be slow and painful. Torturous.
He leaned in, close enough for his warm breath to caress your core. You raised yourself, yearning for a clearer view. At that moment, he met your gaze, peering up at you through his long, thick lashes, his perfect blue eyes sparkling with delight.
As you parted your lips to question what he was doing, he stuck out his tongue, saliva pooling to the tip and dripping off onto your pussy.
"Seems like you can never be too wet, can you, love?" Sitting up, he traced circles around your entrance with the gun, the metal slipping against your skin.
What if he shoots you mistakenly?
"Oh, my God, please do—" This time, your words were cut off as he pressed the gun past your folds. Just the tip, but enough to close your throat, only allowing a startled squeak to escape.  
He laughed cruelly. "Don't hold back. Moan if you want."
You'd snap at him if you weren't frozen solid. You couldn't look away. Helplessly, you just watched him push the gun inside you, your rounded eyes barely processing what you saw and felt. Everything so fucking surreal.
Slowly, he worked the gun inside you, eliciting both pleasure and pain. You clenched your jaw, shuddering from his ministrations but refusing to make a sound. You were determined not to grant him the satisfaction.
He gradually worked the weapon halfway in before retracting it to the very tip, granting you a brief moment to catch your breath. However, that respite was short-lived as he buried the entire barrel deep within you. Your hands clenched the sheets as you sucked in a sharp gasp and let your head fall back, unable to bear witness any longer, drained of the strength to endure the sight.
This was so, so fucked up. Beyond fucked up.
As the gun pulled back and penetrated you once more, a noise did slip through as a wave of pleasure rocked through you. FUCK!
"Good girl," he breathed. "Now open wider, love." His free hand nudged against your thigh. Without a thought, your thighs instinctively parted further. Another praise, but you barely heard it over the beating of your heart.
"I can feel how tight your pussy is. The way it clings to my gun when I slide it out—exquisite."
You bit your lip, but it wasn't enough to hold in the forthcoming moan. Or the one after that. You could hear the suctioning and slurping noises as he fucked you with his gun, and shame filled you in response. The embarrassment nearly overrode the fear. But neither was more potent than the pleasure your body was compelled to submit to.
When he angled the gun in a particular way, he hit the spot inside you that sent your eyes to the back of your head and an unchecked moan to slip free. He growled in response, further fueling your arousal. Your back arched as he skillfully continued to target and stimulate that pleasurable area.
Your hole grew impossibly tight, biting into the gun barrel when his gloved hand gripped your thigh in a bruising hold. Your heart jumped when he leaned closer but only clamped his teeth onto your inner thigh. You cried out from the sharp bite, but it quickly morphed into a moan, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body as he hit that spot again.
His mouth sucked your thigh, and his movements quickened until you felt the familiar stirrings of an impending orgasm settled low in the pit of your stomach.
"Please," you begged but didn't know what for. He relented, briefly tearing his mouth away, only to clamp down again, this time lower but still frustratingly distant from your center. Too far away. Sadly far away.
"Tell me what you learned, love," he demanded, looking up at you, his mouth wet from his biting. The sight made your heart drop deep into your belly, right to where the gun was driving into you.
"Not to bite you?" you guessed, your voice trembling as if you were high. He answered by biting your thigh in a punishing grip. You cried out, the pain blinding. He loosened his jaw, allowing the pain to blend with pleasure.
A primal, guttural sound slipped out as he thrust the gun deep. "Are you going to make me ask again?"
You opened your mouth, but no answer came out. Your silence allowed you to hear his warning loud and clear. He cocked the gun.
"Okay, okay, fuck," you relented with a terrified hush. "I-I learned not to run away from my cage." Those words brought tears to your eyes because uttering them aloud made you feel truly trapped by this man.
"Who owns your life, love?"
You closed your eyes, resenting the lie on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill forth just like the tears streaming down your face. "You," you whispered, the bitter taste of the words clogging your throat.
A battlefield raged in your body.
One part of you craved his touch, longing for him to make you come. Meanwhile, another part of you harbored a dark desire, wishing for him to turn the gun upon himself and fire it.
You glanced downwards at him and noted how he was staring at you. And you had the terrifying realization that he saw through your deceit and didn't believe your lies.
"You have ten more seconds to come, love. No more chances after that," he warned before nipping at your thigh again. "Rub your clit."
You hesitated. The last thing you wanted to do was allow this man the satisfaction of making you come and, even worse, helping him do it. In your mind, he didn't fucking deserve it. And though your body was strung tight with desperation for release, your mind rebelled against the idea.
"Now," he shouted, his eyes blazing with something carnal and dangerous.
Muttering a curse, you reached down and twirled your fingers over your clit, too scared of the potential consequences. If it was between orgasming and getting shot, you were going to have to choose the option that would cause the least damage.
"Good girl," he whispered. It took two more thrusts of the gun before you were propelled over the edge, your ass shooting clear off the ground as the orgasm ripped through you. You were screaming. You could feel the sound vibrating the muscles in your throat and turning it increasingly hoarse. But you couldn't hear it. Not when your entire being was consumed in fire and ice, and you could only see a blissful heaven.
The gun worked inside of you faster and deeper, drawing out the orgasm until you were literally begging for it to come to an end. He ripped the weapon out of you, and your thighs snapped shut instantly, sealing off the remnants of your shameful orgasm.
You were left a shuddering mess from the aftershocks as the waves of pleasure subsided. Meanwhile, his body towered over you. Through your half-lidded eyes, still jerking from the little shocks, you glanced up and met his gaze. His face broke into the broadest smile you had ever seen on his face, and you noticed he had dimples.
He had fucking dimples.
He was easily the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. And you wished you'd never seen it. Because something inside your heart was being torn apart, and it felt like fear, it tasted like panic, and you didn't know how to understand the image in front of you.
You didn't want to see Vash like this. You vehemently refused to perceive him as anything other than a monster. This wasn't right. Your body was full of rage, humiliation, and shame—you knew this. But it was like your brain couldn't process those emotions, so it was just choosing to feel nothing at all. Was this what trauma did? Knowing that you had been violated, yet your body opting for a state of numbness instead?
The silver cross sprung from his shirt, diverting your gaze to the scar it adorned. "Lick this clean," he said, placing his gun onto your bared breast. "I can't use this when it's dripping your cum."
Like a magic trick, he pulled his body back, and every heat you had in your veins disappeared. With one last lingering look, he stood up and turned his back to you, his hands probably adjusting his pants. Then he began to walk leisurely toward the wall, floorboards creaking beneath his weight. Not even a passing glance was spared in your direction. Probably you didn't exist for him anymore. He had taken what he wanted, reducing you to nothingness.
Men.
As he neared the worn-out brick wall, his hand delved into his pocket, retrieving a cigarette. With practiced precision, he placed it in the corner of his mouth. His fingers trembled as he reached for his lighter, or perhaps it was merely a figment of your imagination. Anyhow, he poised himself to ignite the flame, preparing to immerse himself in the disgusting cloud of smoke that would soon envelop him.
You moved without thinking, your hand wrapping around the sticky gun. You would never lick this shit. You stood on your feet, not caring about covering yourself. The second he realized what you'd done, he backed away, raising his hands in surrender—the stupid cigarette dangling between his lips.
You pointed the gun right at his fucking head, and all you wanted to do was blow it off. All you wanted to see was his brain exploding beneath the bullet. Because you were not looking into the face of the man who could easily steal your heart under different circumstances. You didn't see him at all. You only saw a faceless man who took what he wanted from you, and you let him. But now you wanted him to fucking burn for it.
Tears built in your eyes, your vision blurring. The gun was vibrating from how hard your hand trembled, but he stood close enough that you'd strike accurately. Whether the bullet hit his head, his throat, or his chest, you didn't care.
"Love," he whispered.
You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing the sweet but stupid, stupid and stupid whisper out of your head. You didn't want to hear it.
"I haven't done anything to you." You voice cracked. "How can you hurt me like this?" Your eyes burned from the tears welling up. And within seconds, they spilt, running down your cheeks. It seemed like orgasm had pushed your feelings out with itself.
And he seemed to realize it too because a subtle change reflected in his eyes. "I asked you to stay away from trouble," he murmured, his voice so soft. "Why don't you listen to me?" He bared his teeth, his own ire flashing in his eyes. "Do you think I enjoy hurting you?"
"I do!" you shouted, thrusting the gun at him. You sucked in a sharp breath as a sob climbed up your throat. He nodded slowly, a glimmer of understanding replacing the anger that had once flamed in his eyes.
Deep down, you knew better. You knew he wasn't angry with you. He was angry because he was helpless. Hopeless. A goddamn lost cause. Because he would never be the same, and he knew that. But what he didn't know was what to do with it.
A sob escaped your throat, but the rage persisted. He slowly stepped towards you, like approaching a frightened animal with vicious teeth. His eyes didn't stray from yours as he advanced, and you were so close to slipping back into that paralyzing hold he had on you. Then he was right before you again, pressing his lips into the gun barrel.
"Does this make you feel powerful?" he murmured.
Another sob broke free, but you didn't lower the weapon.
"Does this make you feel free?"
You scowled but couldn't muster the courage to respond. You couldn't articulate what it made you feel—you just knew it made you feel something. You stared at the gun in your hand, at the smooth, heavy metal, and you were surprised to find that you enjoyed the way it nestled within your grip, like an extension of your body. It didn't frighten you anymore.
You could stand still in this moment forever.
"What you seem to have forgotten," he snarled, "is that I am already a dead man. I died months ago. So go ahead, pull that trigger, love. End the remaining fragments of my existence. I am nothing but a hollow vessel."
You broke and screwed your eyes shut against the flood of tears, but it was like putting a flimsy piece of paper over a bursting pipe. Agony etched across your face, consuming you completely. "I don't want to be here," you choked out, barely getting the words out before a gut-wrenching sob tore through your trembling lips.
"Let me help you—fuck love, just fucking kill me," he bit, his voice breaking. He opened his mouth, and the barrel slid in. His lips tightly closed around the gun, his eyes staring at you, begging you.
Pull the trigger.
It wasn't fair, but it was becoming harder and harder to look at Vash and blame him, too. You were beginning to revert to that weak, thoughtful part of yourself that was convinced your life wouldn't be such a goddamn shitshow if your father didn't come barreling into it.
But no! You would no longer let your emotions get in the way. You were supposed to play this game by its own rules. So if it were your turn to shoot, you would do it.
No hesitating. No understanding. Just pulling this little trigger.
Click.
To your dismay, there was only a vacant stillness, a blackhole that swallowed your hopes and replaced them with a rising tide of unease. Your chest resonated with the thunderous cadence of your own heart, the loud thud filling your ears as you refused to accept the defeat. Ignoring the gnawing doubts gnarling at your mind, you pulled the trigger again and again and again.
Click. Click. Click.
The sound of the emptiness mocked your growing desperation.
A cold sweat bead on your brow as you stumbled backward, your body shaking with disbelief. Your eyes widened in horror as you stared at the gun, and when your gaze met his face, your world unraveled further into a maelstrom of darkness. His lips contorted into a wicked grin, now devoid of the innocence and sadness he pretended to have. The sight sent a tremor scurrying up your soul, your skin prickling with a nauseating blend of aversion and revulsion.
"You taste fantastic, love" Vash's voice slithered with a perverse delight as he savored the moment, his tongue caressing his lips in a vile display. His hands, tainted with malice, raked through his disheveled hair. Then with an ear-splitting crack, he twisted his neck, relishing in the discomfort he inflicted upon himself. "You hate me enough to try pulling the trigger four times?"
Your blood ran icy as his words seeped into your consciousness, a sting as bitter as poison. Suffocating the room, his laughter took on a haunting quality, a symphony of evilness. Each note of his amusement revealed the true nature of his depravity, shattering the fragile illusion of triumph you once held.
"Did you really think I'll leave you with a loaded gun?" Then as if to prove how simple-minded you were, he reached into his pocket, extracting the sixth bullet with a perverse flourish. He presented it before you, a diabolical offering that sealed your fate. The weight of that one extra little bullet pressed down upon you, an oppressive force that smothered any remnants of hope.
"Game over," he declared, his voice dripping with finality, each syllable a nail in the coffin of your aspirations. The room contracted around you, a claustrophobic arena that confined you to this sleepless nightmare. "You've got balls."
Your eyes snapped up, your mind working quickly to fit all the pieces together, and he was gaping at you, staring at you in a way that was entirely foreign to you, in a way that said he was utterly, absolutely amazed. You were not sure if he was proud.
But the fact that the gun was empty the whole time was a kick in the gut. No. It was a gun in the cunt.
"It… empty…bullet…" Stuttering, you turned to look at the bed, sheets still wet from your heinous climax, and then yourself, every inch of your body bare to his disgusting gaze.
Fingers coiling like vipers ready to strike, Vash extended his arm, reaching closer to your slumped figure. As his hand reached you, he guided it downward with deliberate precision, his touch a phantom of sweetness. You remained motionless, your body as still as a fragile porcelain doll, your spirit hollowed out by his relentless torment. You offered no resistance, Your limbs heavy with acceptance. It didn't have a meaning anyway. This was his playground, and you were nothing but a worthless pawn.
The room held its breath, like you when you thought his fingers were headed for your hole again, only to find them closing around the gun with an ironclad grip.
He leaned closer to your ear, whispering, "You're far too naïve. I would never take even the slightest risk of losing my favorite toy."
Your eyes got shot closed, your lips pressing on each other as he planted a kiss on your temple and walked out without any more words.
You opened your mouth, and you screamed. You screamed and screamed until your voice cracked beneath the pressure. Until you feared your throat would shred from the force. You wanted to crawl outside of your body so desperately. Just so you could escape this feeling. No. You wanted that gun loaded with bullets to turn it on yourself.
One last shout ripped out of your throat, this one so full of pain that brought you to your knees. You crumbled. The raw sound tapered off, fading into a hoarse, staccato cry. You sucked in a deep breath, filling your lungs with oxygen you didn't want, but you were too lost in your grief to scream like you wanted to.
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I know this one-shot kinda doesn't make sense, but I'd be damned if I hadn't done it.
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usernu11 · 1 year
Text
Please Believe Me
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Belphegor betrayed his brothers, he betrayed the lasting memory of his late sister, but more importantly; he betrayed you.
warnings* mentions of death; chapter 16 spoilers
tags* gn!reader, no pronouns mentioned, not proof read, angst, possible ooc belphegor
notes* this has been cooking up for weeks as a concept but got an opportunity to post due to an event goin on over on twitter
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The thing that Belphegor feared the most was the possibility of you hating him.
You knew this for a fact; it's not like he made it hard to figure out anyway. He was insensately clingy when it came to you; always needing to be around you, touching you in some sort of way no matter how nicely you tried to tell him off. He was scared that you'd push him away for good; he needed to make sure that he was able to stay by your side. You knew this, the reason behind it, and yet. It pissed you off to no end.
He was scared? Belphegor, a powerful demon in his own right despite being the youngest, was scared of you? It was as if nothing had happened, as if it was always like everyone was always a big happy family. Even the rest of the brothers, they moved on as if it was nothing. You made a pact with him, got power over him, so that was it right? Everything was good, right?
"Belphegor, I'm trying to sleep." It was always when you were seconds away from drifting to sleep that Belphegor found himself wandering into your room and sliding into your bed. You were used the some of the brothers, mainly Mammon, cuddling up next to you at unreasonable times of the night. However, you always found yourself relaxing after waking up from their intrusion and drifting right back to dream land a little warmer and safer than before. That was never the case with Belphegor.
"Then go to sleep." The demons lithe fingers make their way around your waist, the tips digging into the fabric of your pajamas. The skin underneath where his hands lay raise and shivers at the contact. You wish he wouldn't get so close to you, you wish he would use his hands to make contact with you.
Your body always seizes and trembles when he's around but your temperature drops and your neck aches when you feel his hands on you. You know he can feel your body rejecting his entire being, and yet he still insists on this nightly ritual.
Sleep almost never comes until he forces it onto you, voice inches away as he sleepily chastises you about your poor sleeping habits. You only feel a sense of peace when his voice starts to feel farther and farther away until you think you're alone in your bed once more.
The first time it happened you were skeptically surprised that you hadn't dreamt about the awful memories of you meeting your end. You had tried to convince yourself that maybe you were overthinking the whole thing, that maybe you were suppose to have moved on and forgiven Belphegor. It took two more nights before you wised up, reminding yourself that these were demons; they might seem like family to you, but they were demons through and through.
You always woke up dreaming of the brothers. You woke up just when they all smiled at you, drowning you in love and comforting you awake. Your chest felt warm, but your mind was always icy cold. He was always there, in the background with a guilty look on his face. He was always murmuring apologies in between all of the ruckus, barely heard above the rest of the words flooding your senses.
Both you and Belphegor knew that he didn't deserve to be in those dreams and yet he conjured them up with himself in them anyway.
A coward, that's what you thought of him after the third night. You always glared at him when the dream appeared, never focusing on the brothers surrounding you and begging for your attention; you always look at him as you felt yourself start to awaken, judging and filled with complicated feelings. He stopped apologizing around that time, always looking down towards the ground and avoiding your anger filled gaze.
Tonight was suppose to be no different, and yet you awoke feeling sick. Your head was fuzzy, your chest felt dead cold and your pajamas were soaked in a thin layer of sweat that covered your skin. What unsettled you the most was Belphegor clutching you tight, your back was against his chest and both his arms kept you captive on your side within the bed.
Your brain wasn't working properly and you immediately could feel a sense of panic start to ripple throughout your body. You took deep, long breathes and held them for as long as you were able before restarting the process; you didn't want to break down, not while the person who was causing you the distress was right there. You go through your breathing ritual until you're able to make your body listen to you, a shaky hand slowly making its way towards your face in an attempt to rub the blurriness out of your eyes.
It's raining, you belatedly notice after a loud thunder strike breaks your concentration and makes it hard to breathe again. Suffocating, the entire situation was nothing but suffocating. Seeing as how it was still dark and the usual chatter from the brothers coming from the dining hall wasn't present, you must have woken up too early. Too early for Belphegor to have unwrapped himself from you, too early for the lie of a comforting nights sleep to play in your dreams.
A weak, pathetic whimper escapes before you're able to reign it in but it was just all too much. Of course you weren't sleeping well, of course the coward in your bed wasn't just trying to pathetically apologize in a roundabout way. Who did he think he was, your savior? The knight in shining armor shielding you from the horrors he caused? Did he think you would appreciate his efforts?
Too much, it was just all too much and you were sick of trying to accommodated his needs. Your body goes into a state of panic as you desperately try to wriggle out of Belphegors' grasp, tears are rolling down your cheeks and making the pillow supporting your head uncomfortably damp.
His hands only seem to tighten their hold on you.
"Let go you piece of shit, I said let me go!" You know he's awake, you know he's aware of everything he's done to you and yet he just can't let you go and it hurts. More than anything else it hurts. You're sobbing now, feet feebly kicking him in an attempt to get him to move; you know it's not going to work either way, if anything your kicks hurt you more than they do him. "W-Why are you doing this to me? Why can't you just l-leave me the fuck alone. I want nothing to do with you, B-Belphegor." His name feels like lead to say and you have to force it out while holding back the urge to vomit. "I d-don't want to be close with you, I don't want to forgive you. I don't w-want to like you. I ha-"
A sudden crushing tug against your stomach cuts you off, it makes you go dizzy as your mind visualizes the worst of situations. You don't want to die without getting it all out, without making him suffer just as much as you have.
"-rry." You can barely hear his words under the rapid beats of your heart that seem to come straight from inside your head. You don't want to listen to what he has to say. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, so please don't-" His arms loosen their grip on you, trembling hands lay resting against your stomach in a weak attempt to soothe the pain. You don't want to recognize the fear in his words, the trembling of his entire body; none of it, you don't want to process any of it.
"Shut up. S-shut up, I know you don't mean it. I know you're not saying t-that to me." You take the chance to rip out of his hold and crawl over the the farthest side of the bed; you rest your body against the cold wall, knees resting against your chest as you sit against it. Your eyes try and focus on the floor ahead of you, anything to get away from the situation, away from the emotions, away from him.
Belphegor makes an attempt to sit up and move towards you but stops as soon as he sees your huddled figure. He does nothing but stare for awhile, the sound of rain rapping against the window fills the room and fills it with a warped sense of calm. Even the thunder is a welcome inclusion; it helps block out the thoughts that refuse to leave you alone. It's as soon as your breathing is under control and the sweat gathered on your skin feels cold and gross that Belphegor feebly says your name.
"Is it the guilt? That you killed the last of what remains of your sister? Or maybe it's the looks your brothers gave you while they sobbed and cradled my dead body." You can't help the bite that edges your words, you're just left with nothing but anger at it all after the fear takes a back seat.
"That's-" He pauses, processing his words before he speaks again. "It's not just them. I regret what I did to you and I regret the pain I caused them."
A dry laugh leaves your mouth. "You sure don't act like it. You never listen to me, your torment me day and and out and you have the audacity to say you regret it. You don't even know me."
"I want to know you!" He suddenly screams at you, voice dripping with desperation. It unsettles you and the raise in volume makes you flinch; something he doesn't fail to notice. "Sorry, I'm sorry I just-" A breathe shaky and what sounds to be a sniffle. "I don't want to ruin it. What you have with them."
"Bullshit." You're glaring at him now, eyes barely able to make since of his features in the dark of the room. "They already forgave you, hell, they never stopped seeing you as their precious younger brother. The only one who hasn't forgiven you is me. Not once have you been honest with me. Not then, not in those dumb dreams and not even now."
Another flash of thunder passes and illuminates the room for just a brief second. You wish it hadn't, you wish you weren't looking at him as it happened.
You wish you didn't see the tears, didn't recognize the pained expression, didn't empathize with the torment that wracked him.
"I was scared. You were so nice, my brothers really seemed to like you as well. You came to me with innocent intentions, a pure soul and heart. I started to want to get to know you, I started to see you as something other than just a disgusting human." You want to block out the sounds of his sobbing, you want to block out his pain and pretend like you don't care in the slightest. "I took it out on you. I regret it. I'm sorry. I'm so-sor-" His voice breaks as he finally gives into the tears.
You wanted to hurt him, tell him everything he didn't wish was true when he's at his lowest. You hate him.
You hate him so much you uncurl yourself and move away from the wall.
You hate him enough to wipe away his years.
You hate how he crumbles at your touch.
You hate how you understand the 'why' behind his actions.
You hate how you don't hate him in the slightest.
You hate how you know how much he regrets it, how desperate he is in trying to show you how much he cares about you. You know he's hypervigilant when it came to how you reacted to him, how he knew to give you space but was deathly afraid of you pushing him away for good. He made you mad, he made you angrier than you've ever been in your life. He killed you and you will never forgive him for it.
You're aware of this and yet you care. Deep down you find yourself trying your hardest to understand and to not reject him because he was hurt, he was hurt and he hurt you in return. He's ignorant, he felt betrayed and he was alone. You'll never forgive him, he knows this. It's a permanent scar that will always linger between the both of you.
"You scare me. No matter how much I try and block it out my mind remembers how it felt to die. It remembers who did it to me." Your hands are covered in his tears and snot and you have half a mind to not comment on how gross it makes you. "I just want to process it and overcome that fear. I know you're trying to help but you're being selfish about it. If I say I need space then please give it to me."
Belphegor all but nods, heavy head leaning into your hands as if savoring the small amount of contact you've allowed him. You can't help but let out a sigh. "I really don't trust you very much. But I'll try, so can you try for my sake as well?"
"I will. I promise I will. Please believe me, just this once." His voice sounds weak and small and the way he's slouched makes him look like a little kid getting scolded by their parent.
It looks a little endearing. Just a little.
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ao3 *** about me
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