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#the devil's proxy
spookylittletownhq · 2 years
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A HUGH EDGAR WARREN III has arrived in Albion. While they may seem STRANGE, they are connected to the WESTERLY FOOTHILLS MILTONS. Their passport was stamped at Falls’ Inn and shows that they are 34, SIX FEET FOUR INCHES, with BROWN HAIR and BLUE EYES. Mrs. Kuiper at the Inn said that they seemed OFF-PUTTINGLY HANDSOME AND A CHARMING CONVERSATIONALIST, though they were seen DRINKING FROM A FLASK as they departed St. Catharine’s Depot. Be wary, and report any sightings to Madame Lange’s Tea Room.
INTRODUCING EDDIE WARREN
The story they tell was that they left the Valley. Those they left behind have no memory of them. The truth is somewhere in the middle.
She had a gift. Peering into the future was not unique to her, but controlling it--or so they say--crossed the sacred line between Good and Evil.
Johanna Milton disappeared with Edgar Warren in the dark of night. Edgar’s wife Suzanna, filled with rage and heartbreak, died of fever three days later. And the Warrens were never heard from again.
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Eddie’s story is best told backwards.
Now. An entrepreneur, a co-owner of a jazz club, a bootlegger. Eddie has more enemies than friends. But he has a knack for social connections, and even his enemies begrudgingly agree that he’s a charmer.
Days are nights and nights are days to Eddie. He spends his nights tending the bar of the Chipmunk Club, a speakeasy hidden deep in the bowels of Manhattan, mingling with jazz musicians and dancers and gamblers. He’d never waste the space in his sprawling bachelor pad with bathtub gin, but Eddie makes it his business to know where to get moonshine, and who wants it.
He’s a man of many talents, and he’ll crow about most of them, but the one that he keeps closely guarded is his talent for music. Piano, guitar, trumpet, a little trombone and a little clarinet, he’s been known to fill in for the bands that play at the Club.
He arrives back home in the early morning hours exhausted and exhilarated by a night of partying. A hit of heroin and he’s fast asleep until evening, when he does his bookkeeping and goes to Theodosia’s house for dinner.
“Heard from Paul?” he’ll ask.
“No,” Theo says, but Eddie knows better.
Paul called this morning. He struggles.
Theo watches Eddie watching her. She frowns. “You worry for him.”
“No,” Eddie says with a wave of his hand. She knows, he knows.
Then. Eddie was the favorite. He was the type of boy that could sit at the dinner table surrounded by adults and carry on a conversation. He could be entertaining, even contrary, much to the delight of those around him. Grandma doted, called him special. From a young age, he found out adults didn’t always say what they were thinking, but he knew Grandma told the truth when she said he was going to be amazing.
Eddie wasn’t very good at school, but that was okay. He didn’t need books to take over the family businesses. Father taught him everything he needed to know, and Eddie never wasted an opportunity to make money.
He might not have been very smart, or good at math, but he knew how to mingle and socialize. Reading into others’ thoughts could be fraught with problems though. He knew when someone had a crush on him, he knew when someone was angry with him, he knew secrets he shouldn’t tell--sometimes he had trouble knowing what he was told, and what he heard. Betraying the trust of his friends became a commonplace mistake, and enemies were made. He was incapable of maintaining close relationships and therefore didn’t. His closest ‘friends’ were more like business partners--Al and Jimmie.
Theodosia and Paul were his younger siblings. Theodosia was just as eager as Eddie to be noticed and adored, but she was often overlooked. So she did things her own way, leaving the family as soon as she could to go to college (much to Mother’s despair). She met and married a real estate magnate, and stayed in the city.
Paul was another story. Grandma used to say he must have been born with a sour lemon in his mouth. Theodosia minded him when no one else would, after Father and Mother passed in that car accident when Eddie, Theodosia, and Paul were just kids.  A sickly child, Paul watched the world go by from the window, rarely able to enjoy the outdoors due to asthma. He read books. Did math. Wanted to be an accountant, but life had other plans--June 1917, Paul got a draft letter. He passed the physical, somehow, and was sent to London, then France, and came back in January of 1919 broken. On Christmas Day, artillery fire struck his camp, paralyzing him.
Eddie tried to help, but Paul refused, preferring to stay with Theodosia and her husband, until finding his own flat. He agreed to work for the Club, doing the books for a salary, but he rarely talked to his brother.
Future. The strange letter, opened and left at the dining room table, must have been some sort of mistake. Or a joke. But was it? Grandma and Grandpa moved to New York after they got married in Pennsylvania. Sometimes they would mention a Valley, or maybe that was something Eddie heard when he shouldn’t have.
Waking at sunset wore on him. All the drinks and the sleepless nights wreaked havoc on his body. The air in the city seemed dirtier and dirtier as the years went on. Eddie was even beginning to grow tired of jazz.
He needed the change.
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Welcome to the valley! Please send in your account within 24 hours. 💚
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raayllum · 6 months
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I love rune cube placement foreshadowing, it's my favourite
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rometabss · 11 months
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succession (2018-2023) / interview with the vampire (2022-)
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stereax · 8 months
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tuna :')
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fandoms-spamdom · 10 months
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what if this whole time Yoshida made a deal with the death devil so he could transform into chainsaw man and for each kill it helps his life or health or something like that and all the kills go to death devil which is why he’s so centered around death and we hear him mention things like that so often
HONESTLY I HADN’T CONSIDERED HIM MAKING A DEAL WITH THE DEATH DEVIL
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christ every time i rewatch devil's trap it's like oh here we go again every member of this fucking family wants to fuck each other
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affinityforanime · 5 months
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Chiho from Devil is a Part Timer and Tomoe from Seishun Buta.
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Broke: “I was born in the wrong decade!!!1!!!”
Woke: “I was born in the only good decade and come hell or high water my children will enjoy Gilligan’s Island and The Monkees just as much as I did.”
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Follow Up pt 5
“He might have been more useful alive, Ms. Rosselini,” Angelina said, sounding disapproving of Diana's protests and indifferent of her discomfort. 
The woman clenched her fists, standing just out of reach of the grasping and vengeful spirit.  “The mission was compromised, Donna Angelina. Even using family resources to transport a near dead man from our basement would have drawn more attention that was necessary thanks to the problems his little princess had already created for us.  Nicky would have done the same in disposing of our unexpected guest.”
Nicky, Angelina thought, would have put a bullet into the man as a safeguard from sudden recovery or rescue.  Nicky would have then proceeded to put a bullet in everyone in the building and she was certain Diana Rossellini knew that, giving Diana’s final call on the matter a tinge of self preservation rather than protocol.  However, having chastised the Proxy sufficiently, she reeled in the wrathful wraith, giving her sullen cousin space to breath and be thankful for her life.
“Simon Boucher,” Angelina said, focusing on the spirit.  Its attention now turned to her, it shrank back into human proportions, once again clear and calm and sad.  “We regret that you have come to this state.”
“You are like her,” he whispered again. 
“I am,” Angelina agreed.  “Did you see the ones that attacked you.”
“No.  I didn’t.”  A ghostly hand went to the pockets of his clothing. Searching.  “They took the rosary from me.  They knew we were coming, even though Elizabeth said it was safe.  Is she safe?  Did they kill her too?  I can’t find her.”
“She’s safe with her brother, Mr. Boucher.  She left France unharmed.  What can be done for you?”
The resigned spirit of Simon looked at his bones under Anglina’s gentle hands.  “Tell my family.  Don’t let them wonder what happened.”
“I can do that for you, Mr. Boucher.”  Angelina glanced meaningfully at Diana and tipped her head to the door, indicating that the Proxy needed to find the absent medical examiner in order to prepare the bones for travel.  Diana, sullen to be dismissed, wisely left without a word.  The wraith of Simon didn’t notice the accessory to his murder leaving, starting transfixed at his own body.
“Is this what happens when you betray someone?  Am I in hell?”
The notion amused Angelina.  “You aren’t in hell, Mr. Boucher.  Whom did you betray?”  The spirit flickered for a moment, the way a warning ripple might go through a swarm of bees.
“He paid me to bring him the rosary.  Elizabeth said he was going to kill me if I did.  But then I died anyway.”  Angelina could feel the sadness in the bones. “Did Elizabeth have me killed?  For the rosary?”
A child, even one in the shadow of  Nicky’s influence, could not possibly have orchestrated such a thing and she said so.  “This might have been simple accident of chance, Mr. Boucher.  Whom did you betray?”  She leaned into the question, urging the wraith to answer truthfully.
Again that ripple as the words were bent unwillingly from the wraith.  “Vincenzo Giovanni.  He paid...my…our Order…to find things for him.”
Angelina shared a quick look with Pietro, her cousin and enforcer becoming grim to hear the news.  “Does Vincenzo live here in Grenoble?”  While a common enough family name, there were only so many that had gotten the Kiss and she could account for each one of those and the territory they were allowed to operate.
“America.  The rosary is gone.  How do I make amends so I can go to Heaven?”  Simon’s voice was beginning to go hollow, an abyssal wail.
“I will help you, Mr. Boucher, but you will have to wait.  We’ll move you out of this place to one of sanctuary.  You will be safe and soon on your path to redemption.”  Angelina poured all of her sincerity into the words, lifting her hands off the bones and letting the mournful spirit of Simon Boucher fade back across the Shroud.
She stood there quietly for a moment, Pietro coming alongside.  “If it is the same Vincenzo that tried to gull the Butcher’s little China Doll…”
“Then you might have to keep me from killing him, Pietro,” Angelia interrupted, more abruptly than she intended.  Her enforcer smiled, a smile full of warmth and charm.
“I am conflicted, Donna, although I might just hold your coat for you.  For the insult done your office if nothing else.  But,” the smile faded as he crossed his arms.  “The way he dallies with business not his own, you might have to wait your turn behind prior complaints.  How does he hold his position the way he burns these bridges?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, Pietro.  And,” she added more quietly, seeing Diana escorting the uneasy medical examiner back into the room.  “When we get back to the villa, I want to talk to you about your Proxy.”
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gab-has-adhd · 4 months
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BLORBO BY PROXY LMSKSSBUS REAL
:)))
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matan4il · 6 months
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Daily Update post:
After four hostages were released, there are still 220 in captivity. Among them are about 30 kids and at least 20 elderly people. We've been seeing people tearing down their posters in cities around the world. Now there's a new low. In London, the posters were vandalized, and these Jewish victims were given "Hitler mustache" and devil horns...
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Also, calling those Hamas terrorists, who murdered babies, who raped and then killed teenage girls, who handcuffed and shot elderly women, "real men" is another sign of a broken moral compass.
In New York City, Jewish students had to take refuge in a library for 40 minutes, for fear of a "pro-Palestinian" mob.
In Los Angeles, a man broke in the middle of the night into a Jewish family's home, shouting antisemitic and anti-Israel abuse, declaring (according to the mother) that he was going to kill them.
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One of the more poignant message I'd seen about the horrible reactions justifying the massacre of Jews in Israel:
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As the United States has been under more attacks by Iran proxies, the assessment is that Israel's ground operation in Gaza won't begin, before the US has more defense measures for its own troops in place.
In the meantime, Hamas and Hezbollah continue to fire rockets into Israel constantly, and the number of Israelis displaced from their homes continues to grow. The residents of kibbutz Nir Oz, just one Israeli town, where about a third of the population has been murdered, were told that it will take at least two years to restore their agricultural community.
Lastly, a personal story. Michal Admoni was a disabled woman living in kibbutz Nir Oz. Her son Guy was staying with her on Oct 7, because she was feeling unwell. He wouldn't leave her even as Hamas terrorists attacked and murdered both of them.
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(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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stereax · 8 months
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go watch the video, it's actually quite funny!
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mamamittens · 1 year
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Oh, Sweet Child of Mine (Pt. 1)
Reader-insert & Whitebeard Pirates
Master Post for series.
Warning: (Platonic) yandere behavior, physical injury, blood, and kidnapping. If any of these make you uncomfortable (especially yandere content), you should not read this or any following parts.
Please block the tag "oh sweet child of mine" if you are uninterested in this story and "one piece yandere" if stories like this make you uncomfortable. For everyone else, please do remember that as sweet/touching as this behavior is or can be, it is deeply toxic and troubling in real life. Anyone that treats you with such disregard in terms of your boundaries or respecting your decisions should not be tolerated.
Please stay safe and have fun.
Word Count: 2,880
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Devil fruits in the marines has always been handled a bit oddly. On paper, no low rank has a devil fruit. Because having a devil fruit tends to make even weak humans stronger, even if under highly specific circumstances. But you can’t just promote people because they ate something weird. They have to earn their position. This problem is handily solved by… ignoring the issue entirely.
Strong marines will, eventually, be promoted. So it stood to reason that strong marines with powerful abilities will be promoted even faster.
You were, however, of the opinion that there should be some sort of allowance made for marines that just can’t handle power without it going to their head.
Those people should scrub toilets until they learn at least a bare minimum amount of humility.
Why would you, of all people, have that opinion?
Because you got to watch, in real time, how quickly people given power without earning it lose their damn minds. It was, in fact, your own devil fruit’s power to ‘dial up’ other devil fruits. Just being near you had this effect. No, no one had any idea what your devil fruit was supposed to be called. Apparently, it was one of the few not in any encyclopedia on the subject, so you didn’t even know your own limits by proxy.
If you had the choice to go back in time you would never have eaten that weirdly flat yellow fruit. But you were stupid and hungry and here you were. Babysitting yet another ensign who simply could not handle having stronger powers with any grace.
Ensign Williams had a candle-candle fruit. Basically, a very weak version of the logia fruit flame-flame. His fire would always be weaker, smaller, and easier put out. Until you showed up, wherein he was capable of fairly impressive feats. In fact, it had been a full week and Williams went from being in awe of what he could now accomplish with you by his side to fully up his own ass with his ‘rightful power’. Unfortunately, he was your partner for the time being, so you just had to try and reign in his ass-ness before he burned the town to the ground by accident.
Mostly this involved walking away when he started being a prick to the local townsfolk to remind him that this ‘grand power’ he held was, in fact, only possible with your presence. Trying to physically stop him just got you a bloody nose. So, wounding his ego was the best you could do for everyone involved. Usually, you excused this by a sudden, burning need to pet a dog or cat or sufficiently friendly bird. They, at least, appreciated your presence and efforts.
“I’m going places, you know!” Williams declared in a huff, running up to you as you scratched a dog’s ears. Really ruffling the floppy appendages around as the dog panted and drooled in happiness. “The marines will see that I deserve a promotion soon enough with all the good work I’ve been doing!” You gave him a dry look.
“You depend on your devil fruit too much. What are you going to do when that’s not enough? I won’t always be around, you know.” You reminded him gently, feeding the mutt a milk bone from your pocket as you stood up. “This is the Grand Line. Eventually you’re going to run into a Yonko or something. What then? You think Red-Hair or Big Mom will care about a little fire?”
Williams paled at the suggestion, reality peaking in through his delusion before, with herculean effort, it was pushed back once again.
“And what about you, huh? Your devil fruit is useless for yourself! You’re a weak, useless thing on your own!” Williams sneered. You stared at him, unimpressed.
“That’s what training is for. Which is what I would be doing if I didn’t have to run around with you all the time.” You sighed. The big folks up top wanted to see just how much power you could give a weak devil fruit, likely in preparation to assign you to someone with a devil fruit user actually noteworthy. If there were side effects, they didn’t want an admiral to be the first to face it, after all. Personally, you were hoping for someone like Smoker. Reasonable, experienced, and well known for his skill outside his devil fruit.
Although, you were starting to think this delusional mindset was the side effect. Natural or induced, the people you gave boosts to often had a period of euphoria and increased aggression, narcissism, and short-sightedness. Hard to say since, so far, everyone you’ve been assigned to has been an asshole.
Possibly a marine-specific issue.
“Bring-ring. Ring-ring. Ring-rin—clack!” You answered the bored snail in your pocket.
“Ensign—”
“Fire Fist Ace has been spotted in your area! You and Ensign Williams are to attempt apprehension. No other Whitebeard Pirates have been spotted but be advised there are likely more—possibly another commander. If you see them, flee on sight.” They hung up immediately before you could even respond. Sighing, you looked up at Williams.
He looked strangely pale before gathering himself, a smug smirk quickly taking over his features.
“Hah! See that? They already know I’m going to accomplish great things. This will be only the beginning of my legacy as a marine!” Williams grabbed you arm and started running down the street, looking around like a madman for ‘Fire Fist’, jostling your glasses hard. They nearly flew off when he spotted a column of fire across town and yanked you with him. “Watch as a real marine works, useless!”
Fire Fist was crouched in the middle of the street, pointing at a stand that had fallen over, his back to the both of you. Whitebeard’s Jolly Roger stark against his tan skin.
“—highway robbery prices, you’re out of your mind if you think I’d pay for something broken!” Fire Fist huffed. While it was true you couldn’t see another pirate with him, it was common knowledge that Whitebeard Pirates rarely travelled alone. Especially a commander.
“You sure you wanna do this—”
“Halt, filthy pirate! Your days of piracy are over!” Williams declared boldly. Briefly, you wondered if maybe your superiors had heard about Williams’ behavior and figured sending him after Fire Fist would be the best reprimand he could get.
Even with your help, Williams was a candle-light at the end of the day. And Fire Fist? Fire Fist was a raging wildfire. You could almost feel the heat of his devil fruit in the back of your head. A faint indication that told you just how strong the devil fruits around you are and helped inform you how much power you were giving just by being around them.
Fire Fist looked back at the two of you with a dry, grumpy expression. Curiosity flickering over his features as he took in how amped up Williams was—and how utterly done you were. Fire flickered over his shoulders as he grinned.
“And what is a couple of ensigns going to do about it?” Fire Fist crowed with a mischievous grin, tipping his gaudy, orange cowboy hat back. Williams’ fire flickered over his body, sparks flying harmlessly over you—a welcome side effect of your devil fruit boosting another thankfully—before charging forward.
Three things happened at once.
Williams charged forward to fight Fire Fist. Letting go of your wrist.
His fire flickered slightly from the loss of direct contact with you.
Fire Fist’s own fire flared up at the sudden, unavoidable boost in power.
Confusion washed over Fire Fist as he instinctively noticed the strange change before he dismissed it, charging towards Williams anyway.
You rolled your eyes, pretty sure Williams would get knocked out quickly and leave you with yet another mess to clean up.
A low wine reached your ears, drawing you gaze away from what was mostly an impressive lightshow as Williams kept throwing fire at a man made of fire.
A fat, white dog panted in the shade. Scraggly white fur otherwise clean despite laying in the dirt. A strange, immaculate crescent shaped moustache curved under his nose.
Obviously, between your partner facing a Yonko Commander and a sad dog, your choice of who deserved your attention was clear.
You kneeled down with a smile, pulling out a dog treat from your pocket.
“Hey, cutie, what are you doing? Trying to cool off a little?” You spoke softly, presenting the treat to the very interested dog. You pulled out a bottle from your other pocket and a bowl—specifically for this actually—as you poured some out for the dog. The dog rolled onto his paws and eagerly drank the water, accepting your gentle affection. “You’re definitely not a stray, but you don’t have a collar either. Where are you from, baby?”
Fire and explosions rocked the area behind you. Not that you cared since the civilians ran the minute Williams and Fire Fist lit up. You scratched the surprisingly soft fur and ran your hand down the dog’s back. They were definitely well cared for, whoever they belonged to. Once they were done drinking water they eagerly wriggled into your lap for affection, licking and nipping at your chin.
“Oof! My, what a cutie you are!” You cheered, playfully ruffling the dog’s ears and booping his wet nose as you avoided the eager kisses.
Williams definitely screamed behind you in panic.
“Help me, you useless—SHIT!”
Without looking you yelled back.
“I thought you were supposed to be a ‘real marine’?” You lowered your voice when the dog whined and kissed his nose as an apology. “Sorry, baby. He’s just been an ass all week and I think he could really learn something today. What could a ‘useless marine’ do anyway, hm? I told him he needs to watch it.” You grumbled softly. The pull of a third devil fruit registering to your senses suddenly.
Having been around Williams all week as he showed off was exhausting. Now actively pulling on your power along with Fire Fist and this new person actively made you want to take a nap.
You had yet to figure out how to lessen your own power or at least focus on only one person, so you simply had to deal with it when actively boosting someone from a distance. Part of you worried that boosting stronger devil fruits was going to be even more exhausting than the weak ones you’ve encountered so far. And you might actually be right about that.
“There you are, Stefan. Oyaji was looking for you.” Someone spoke up above you. You startled, looking up at the stranger.
Open-toed sandals and capris with an open purple shirt exposing defined abs and a purple Whitebeard Jolly Roger. The man looked down at you with amused blue eyes narrowed, blond hair poking out from the top of an extreme undercut.
Marco ‘The Phoenix’.
Welp, that’s definitely your sign to run. Casually. So, he doesn’t suspect anything.
Something told you that your bosses would be pissed if the Whitebeard Pirates got a free power boost by ransoming you. If they gave up the obvious benefits of such a prisoner to begin with.
“Oop. Time to go, baby.” You kissed Stefan’s head and darted away, running directly towards the very explosive fight between Fire Fist and Williams. Snagging the back of his collar as you kept going.
“HEY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, YOU USELESS—”
“The Phoenix and Fire Fist are here—we definitely can’t take them both in. Time to go!” You explained as you ran.
“No! I can do it! What do you know, you useless bitch?!” Williams flailed, breaking your grip on his shirt before slamming his fist into your face. Heat and a crunch of bones sent shockwaves of red and blood across your vision, sending you to the ground with a yelp. Your glasses bouncing off from impact and cracking.
“Fuck!” You hissed, clutching your nose as you blindly looked around, tears falling down your cheeks. You could make out an impressive explosion of fire somewhere ahead of you through your tears and poor vision. A wobbly white blob trotting up to your side with a low wine and bark. What was probably Stefan licking your arm and pawing at your side in worry.
Steady footsteps clacked along the paved street, a dark shadow falling before you as fire exploded behind the figure.
“That was quite a hit. You alright?” The Phoenix asked as he lowered down suddenly. Glass scrapped against the ground. Your glasses were gently lowered onto your face, bringing him into focus with a hairline fracture and tears obscuring your vision somewhat.
“’M fine—not the first time he’s done that--!” You gasped as his fingertips brushed over your knuckled grasp on your bloody nose. Blue fire exploded around you as the various aches and pains were swept away in an instant. Dizziness rushed to your head at the sudden relief.
You almost broke contact as The Phoenix cursed his sudden, uncontrollable fire, falling back to the ground. But his hands were faster and firmly grasped your shoulders.
After several, bizarrely euphoric moments of bathing in the healing flame, The Phoenix wrangled his powers back under control with a grimace. Blood still covered your hands and face but the injury, as well as any other injury, was gone. He looked at you in surprise and you could only gape up at him.
Having established physical contact, any boost others experienced was gone in an instant. Your ‘pseudo-immunity’ to devil fruits meant that your body essentially acted like it was your power as well. And that meant you got to enjoy a small taste in what it was like to have a devil fruit like The Phoenix’s for as long as he maintained that contact. It was weirdly heady. Sort of freeing to feel your weakness being eaten away under the healing influence of his devil fruit.
Almost to the point of forgetting that this, quite critically, meant that your under-powered partner was royally fucked.
Williams barely stood a chance if you had held his hand through the fight. Without any assistance against Fire Fist Ace, it wasn’t even a question. As much of an ass as he was, he didn’t deserve to be killed.
Worried, you tried to look around The Phoenix to see what was happening. He clicked his tongue, pulling your chin back to look at him. His eyes were narrowed and suspicious, a strange light in his eyes as he gave you a small, chilling smile.
“Now, who are you and what was that?” The Phoenix demanded. You shuddered, noticing how oddly quiet it was behind the pirate.
“M-My devil fruit! It—uhm—affects other devil fruits?” You lamely explained as Stefan tried to nose his way onto your lap. You would have preferred to look at the cute, needy dog, but The Phoenix looked like he was about to eat you. “Makes… makes them stronger around me. O-Or just… touching.”
A cold chill went up your spine as he grinned.
“And you’re not assigned to at least an admiral at all times? What a waste… I guess the marines don’t want to keep you that badly, do they?” He clicked his tongue again. “Well, you’re in good hands now, yoi. Let’s get you cleaned up. Stefan! Down!” He ordered, lifting you over his shoulder as you yelped, scrambling to hold onto your glasses. The town was wrecked behind The Phoenix, Fire Fist cheerily skipping up with Williams over his own shoulder.
“Hey, Marco! Did you see how weird that was!? What do you think his devil fruit is?” Fire Fist asked. The Phoenix turned around with a huff.
“Put the marine down. Got the source right here.” He responded.
“Oh! I take it we’re keeping them? Think Oyaji will mind?”
The Phoenix snorted.
“Oyaji will be ecstatic. Marines don’t know how to take care of people right, anyway.” You were jostled lightly as he started walking, Stefan trotting behind while panting happily up at you. You were horrified and nervous, but the addition of Stefan was helping ease your nerves. “They can boost devil fruits but wasn’t assigned to an admiral, can you believe that? Just a weakling. Imagine if it was someone else that found them, yoi?” You struggled to push yourself up, but was aware that you weren’t getting down unless The Phoenix let you.
Unlike Williams, you knew your limits.
“Hah! Wow. At least Gramps could have trained them up safely. Marines are stupid though, so I can’t say I’m too surprised.” Fire fist declared. Boots stomped on the ground as Fire Fist rounded The Phoenix, poking his head to look at you with a charming grin. “Don’t worry, you’re going to love it here! Ah… and no one will do this again.” Fire Fist grabbed your hands, inspecting the blood and what was still smeared around your nose. His eyes dark with promise as you stared in horror.
Were you being kidnapped for your power or… something else? Because to be honest, it sure didn’t sound like they were too interested in your own devil fruit ability.
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laineystein · 4 months
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i personally don’t support war and find blindly serving any military awful. I don’t mean to be rude i just wonder why you think that defending israel is the only way to garuntee jewish safety? that feels like taking responsibility off of other countries and leaving diaspora jews vunerable. im really just anti military but this conflict has been awful and i hope for the safety of all jewish people israelis muslims and palestinians but no safety to a government of right wingers
I admire your bravery in reaching out when I don’t have anon turned on. Few would, so good on you.
First off, I’m not serving blindly. None of the soldiers I’m serving with are serving blindly. We all believe in what we’re doing and we’re going to keep doing it until the mission is done and all of our people are safe again. I could get into the nuances of conscription and reserves but I’m not going to. With confidence, succinctly, none of us are serving blindly. (I’m also employed by the IDF outside of reserves so I assure you that I, in particular, love my army and believe in what we stand for.)
I don’t *think* that defending Israel is the only way to guarantee Jewish safety. I know it is. We are a country surrounded by homicidal antisemites. Hamas has stated that they will continue doing what they did on October 7th until we cease to exist. There is no peace for the Israeli or Palestinian people with Hamas still in power. So we’re destroying their tunnels and we’re rooting them out and we’re here for our hostages. Let’s play devils advocate - if Israel didn’t exist do you all honestly think that Hamas and all other Iran proxies would just allow Jews and the Western world to live in peace? Because they wouldn’t. Y’all should be grateful that we’re here because if we weren’t, they’d be killing Jews elsewhere. Don’t let them fool you into believing this is about land. They. Hate. Jews. And Israel is the only place in the world where Jews can truly defend themselves. My grandfather survived the Holocaust BH and he always says that they didn’t have a way to defend themselves in the camps. They weren’t organized. They didn’t have weapons. They didn’t have the upper hand. Well now we’re organized and we’re armed and we’re trained. Never again will we be helpless - thanks to Israel.
“That feels like taking the responsibility off of other countries” - what responsibility? To protect Jews? To persecute Hamas? Feh! None of that will ever happen. Not once has any other country *saved* the Jewish people. And, actually, often times people are turning a blind eye to our persecution - like most of the world did on and after and ever since October 7th. Like they did during the Holocaust. Like they have every time Hamas and PIJ indiscriminately fire rockets at Israel. As I said, never again will our safety be in anyone else’s hands because the world has shown us time and time again that they do not care.
“Leaving diaspora Jews vulnerable” is an insane way to blame the victim. WE WERE ATTACKED. But do you think we needed to be attacked for people to hate Jews? No, this has just empowered them to do so out loud. There has always been a correlation between anti-Israel hate and violence against Jews in the diaspora. In May of 2021 when 4000+ rockets were fired into Israel, goyim in the diaspora took this as permission to act out their antisemitic fantasies. Again when WE WERE ATTACKED. Don’t forget - People were celebrating our massacre before Israel even set foot in Gaza. Don’t let the world fool you into thinking that Israel defending ourselves has created antisemitism in the diaspora, it’s only encouraged it.
I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt here and assume you are not Jewish. I don’t know how to explain this conflict to you - a conflict I have lived my entire life (like my parents and grandparents before me). I don’t know how to share my pain and grief and the pain and grief of my tribe in a way that will make sense. But I’m done needing to justify my existence as a Jew. Israel is done justifying its existence as the homeland of the Jewish people. History has shown us that our survival is our responsibility and I/we won’t apologize for it. The same people that are too cowardly to stand up for us when our people are killed and raped can keep their mouths shut when we defend ourselves.
And it seems like maybe you didn’t read this post that I shared today which really would have answered a lot of this without me needing to go on a sleep deprived rant.
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just-a-creep-babe · 1 year
Text
A Demon’s Ache — Part 6
Eyeless Jack x Reader Smut
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
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Masterlist: x
He can’t do it
He knows he’s a coward
But he just can’t face you
He can’t confront you, he doesn’t have it in him
Especially not after what he did outside your door
And since then, whenever he’s seen you walk by, whenever your paths have met, he’s had to turn away because of the guilt and shame fluttering in his chest
Even just this morning, when you offered him a smile as you passed him down the hall, he could barely face you
It looked like you wanted to talk to him, but he couldn’t even bring himself to look you in the eyes, much less have a civilized discussion with you
He’s a fucking coward
You probably think he’s upset with you
He doesn’t know what to do with himself, doesn’t know how to deal with the mess he’s created
So, he eventually resorts to the one person that’s offered any kind of help up until this point
He reaches the familiar clearing lined by the rotting wooden fence
And he almost can’t believe his misfortune when he sees that you’re there—flushed, panting and sweaty, chatting with Hoodie and Masky by the edges of the training ground
That’s right, he remembers you’ve been training with Hoodie recently
He tries to force down the jealousy blooming in his chest like familiar heartache
And he almost turns away to avoid you again
But then Hoodie looks up, and a grin appears on his face at the sight of Jack approaching
The proxy looks back down at you, then nudges his head towards the demon
You turn to look at what he’s gesturing towards
And then Jack locks eyes with you
Fuck
He can’t keep running away from you
He takes in a deep breath to steel his nerves, then keeps walking to join up with the three of you
The two proxies nod at him, and you offer him another smile, similar to the one you gave him earlier today
God, that smile
“Came here to train as well?”
Hoodie’s voice snaps him from his daze
That’s right, he should probably stop staring at you
He clears his throat, tries to act natural
“Yeah,” he lies, and then to sound more believable, he adds, “I figured you could use more practice after I won so easily last time”
Hoodie snorts
“Hey, hey, don’t act like I didn’t get a few good ones in on you”
“You? Land some good hits on him?” Masky suddenly interjects with a sarcastic huff, “c’mon, man, your lies are usually more believable than that”
“Watch it, old man, you’re in no condition to start a fight,” Hoodie playfully threatens his partner with a light kick to his leg, which has Masky grunting in pain
And that’s when Jack finally notices the crutches leaning up against the fence next to Masky
“You fucking—“
Masky makes a move to retaliate, but Hoodie jumps back, and the injured proxy can’t go through with his attack
“What happened?” Jack asks, interrupting them with a nod toward the crutches
“Twisted my fucking ankle,” the proxy answers, shooting a death glare through his mask at his partner, “and then I got a nice little ax jammed into my calf. Damaged some nerves or something, I don’t know”
Jack hums
What would otherwise be a grave injury for a normal human was usually just a minor inconvenience for one of Slender’s proxies
The perks of getting your soul snatched up by a devil, Jack supposes
“You sure you don’t want me to take a look at it?” he offers, but Masky just shakes his head
“I’ll be fine, just sitting these sessions out for now”
“He’s using it as an excuse to take a vacation,” Hoodie teases, and he laughs as Masky fails to attack him again
“You son of a goddamn fucking—“
“Alright, alright, children, break it up”
You move between the two proxies, acting as a barrier to get them to stop annoying one another
Jack feels another pang of jealousy, but he manages to mostly just ignore it
You shake your head, grinning as the two men keep flicking and annoying one another over your smaller form
With a chuckle, you sigh
“Anyways, I’ll let you guys do your workout," you nod at Jack and Hoodie, “I gotta go take a shower”
Jack wants to say something as you’re leaving
He wants to apologize, wants to have the courage to just openly talk about what’s going on between the two of you
But it’s like there’s a disconnect between his brain and his mouth, and he suddenly doesn’t know how to speak
He’s going to have to stand there and watch you leave again
You’re a few feet away when you turn to face him, much to his surprise
“Oh, that’s right,” you say, and Jack’s ears perk up attentively, “we’re thinking about having a campfire in the backyard tomorrow. You in?”
“Of course,” he answers immediately
You smile, and the sight has him feeling all warm inside before he’s reminded of the cruel truth
He can’t trick himself again
Can’t trick himself into believing you’re into him the same way he’s into you
“Great, I’ll see you then!”
And with that, you walk off
He watches you leave, hearing the irregular pattern of his heart beating against his ribcage
He’s only snapped out of it by Hoodie yet again, who walks up behind him and offers a few friendly pats on the back
“Ah, young love~” he snickers
There’s a pause, and then Jack groans, smacking his hand to his face
“Is it that obvious?”
“Obvious?” Masky repeats the word, and Jack looks back at the injured proxy, who folds his thick arms over his chest, “Even an eight-year-old dead kid was able to pick up on it. You’re beyond obvious. You’re hopeless”
Jack groans again, and Hoodie’s condescending back pats do little to console him
“Relax,” Hoodie says, and Jack does not, in fact, relax, “She doesn’t have anything against you, y’know. You guys just need to work something out”
Jack tries not to groan again, just because three in a row seem like a bit much, at this point
“That’s the thing,” he starts, “I just—I can’t. I can’t talk to her. It’s like something gets in the way, or,” he shakes away the very recent memory of what he did in front of your door, “it just never works out”
“Listen, you’re making yourself panic. Just don’t overthink it; she’ll hear you out no matter how much you stumble over your words”
“Which you seem to do a lot around her,” Masky snickers, and whatever’s left of Jack’s confidence deflates just a little bit more
Hoodie shoots Masky a look, but all that does is make him laugh again
“Look man, she invited you to the campfire thing, right? Why don’t you try to talk to her before then? And if that doesn’t work, maybe try to find a way to spend time with her tomorrow morning or something”
Hoodie’s words do little to encourage him
Masky must notice, because he eventually adds, “I say there’s no point in waiting that long. You have something to tell her? Do it now—waiting around will just stress you out even more. You’re not doing yourself any favors by building it up in your head”
There’s a pause as Jack considers his insight
“…Ok. Alright. You’re right, I have to do this”
The demon nods to himself
He’ll just have to bite the proverbial bullet; things won’t get any less awkward between the both of you if he doesn’t do anything about it
And, really, what’s the point of waiting?
“There we go, that’s the attitude,” Hoodie gives him a few more pats on the back, “you got this, man”
When he reaches your room this time, it’s open
He knocks on the open door, calls out your name, but there’s no response
He tried giving you plenty of time to shower and come back, but maybe he’d been too eager and hadn’t waited long enough
The rational thing to do is leave and come back later
But, for some reason, he doesn’t
It’s like he’s pulled into your room, like he can’t stop his instincts from tugging him forwards—a puppet on the strings of his desire
The faint smell of your arousal lingers in the air
He breathes it in, and his abdomen immediately clenches in response
He’s being inappropriate again, he knows it
He shouldn’t be doing this
But fuck, you smell so fucking delicious
He swallows thickly
His thoughts are teetering between wanting to stay and knowing he should leave—especially before you walk in on him
And then his sight lands on a pair of lacy underwear that you left at the foot of your bed
He freezes
He shouldn’t
Christ, he really, really shouldn’t
But he notices the wet patch you’ve left on them, and it’s like he can’t help himself
He pockets them and walks out
There’s a sick sense of guilt clinging to him as he reaches his room
You’d almost think he’d be used to that feeling by now, after all the inappropriate things he’s done
But this feels like he’s just crossed yet another line
Either way, that guilt isn’t strong enough to get him to return the panties to your room
It’s not strong enough to stop him from pulling them out of his pockets and running his fingers over the wet spot at the center
And it’s most certainly not strong enough to stop him from balling them up to his face and inhaling deeply
As soon as he does, he’s done for
His lust overrides any remaining rational thought
Your scent drives him feral
He groans, already drunk off the thought of you
Another deep breath, and he’s practically drooling
It’s no use trying to hold himself back, he’s already a goner
Getting on his bed, he quickly undoes his pants, letting his hard-on spring free, and with his dominant hand, he strokes his erection from the very base all the way to the tip
He grunts, trying to imagine it was you wrapped up around him instead of just his hand
He presses your panties closer to his face, bunching them up, teasing the wet spot at his lips so that he can just barely taste the remnants of your arousal
Friends
Would you still hold that sentiment knowing all the filthy things he does while thinking of you?
He sighs, the sound low and gravelly from somewhere deep within his chest
God, you’re fucking perfect
Everything about you makes him insatiable—it’s like you were made for him, made to torture him with his need
He grinds his hips up into his palm, feeling his cock twitch and throb in response
He imagines you clenching around him, making all those pretty sounds he’s heard you make recently
He breathes in again, another lungful of your scent, and it’s almost too much
He squeezes the tip of his length, and your name escapes him in a husky sigh
His hips wriggle up, pushing more of his length into his hand, and he imagines you on top of him, naked, your back arching as he fills your pretty little cunt up with the entirety of his length
He chokes out another groan, feeling his hips stutter impatiently
When he inhales, more of your scent floods his senses, and that insatiable hunger coils in his stomach until all of his muscles are tensing involuntarily
He’s burning for your touch
He snaps his hips forward, aching cock twitching in his hold, releasing a few more beads of precum at his slit
His tongue traces over the lace of your panties, and when your taste fills his mouth, he groans eagerly
“F-fuck—(y/n)~”
He sounds just about as desperate as he feels
He pumps his length in and out, in and out of his clenched fist until his shaft is slick with precum
He imagines you lapping at his stiff cock, he imagines bending you over and screwing you senseless
The fantasies he’s had countless times before replay in his mind as he uses your panties to help him get off
Knowing your bare cunt was rubbing against the lace not too long ago turns him on more than any kind of porn ever could
It doesn’t even come close
He curses, groaning, his movements growing increasingly rushed and frantic
His mind and body alike are consumed by his desperation
His fingers dig into the delicate material, and if he had any more control over himself, he’d be worried about tearing them
But he’s too far gone to care, too engrossed in the way the pretty lace feels pressing against his face to care about being gentle
When he licks at the wet spot again, he can almost imagine his tongue was buried inside your walls instead
He ruts into his clenched fist, the prominent vein curling along his shaft throbbing with equal impatience
He’s a snarling, groaning mess, jerking himself off like a depraved fucking teenager
He huffs at your panties, breathing you in, letting your scent and taste and even just the thought of you overwhelm him until he snaps
He pushes his hips forwards, his cock twitching and throbbing as he finally cums
His seed dribbles down his shaft, pooling in a mess at his pelvis, but he’s too euphoric to care
He gives a few more languid thrusts into his hand, riding out the high, before eventually stilling
He’s panting, chest heaving, your lace panties still bundled up at his face for him to savor
But it’s just not enough
It’s not the real thing
He won’t be satisfied until he gets you
There’s a brief pause as he lets the endorphins wash over him
And then, as he’s staring up at the ceiling, basking in the aftermath of his high, he thinks, fuck
He really just stole your panties to get himself off
He’s a fucking perv
Swallowing thickly, he tries not to think about your reaction if you ever found out
Instead, he wipes up his mess, going through the leftover box of tissues he keeps by his bedside for times like these
He should probably return your underwear, he realizes
But by this point, you’ve probably finished your shower, and you’re probably back in your room already
He’ll have to return them before tomorrow night, just so that he won’t feel so guilty seeing you at the campfire and knowing he still has them
He sighs to himself
Why does he have to make things so complicated?
Why can’t he just control himself around you?
After obsessing over you for as long as Jack has, the demon has become somewhat familiar with your routine
He knows when you’re least likely to be in your room
Which means he knows the perfect time to sneak in without you seeing him do so
So in the early afternoon the following day, he finds himself back inside your place with relative ease
Surrounded by your things, your various trinkets, clothing and furniture, it has a certain kind of warmth blooming in his chest
Everything in your room is so distinctly you
Not only does your scent mark it as your territory, but the way you’ve set things up, the way you’ve decorated—it’s all so obviously your space
It brings a smile to his lips
He can’t help it; he’s utterly head-over-heels for you
He should just drop off your panties and leave as soon as he can to avoid getting caught
But again, it’s like he’s only pulled deeper into your room
Like he's coaxed into invading your space because he’s too love-drunk and obsessed to stop himself
He notices some of the framed pictures you have scattered around, and he finds himself looking at each and every single one
Some of them are with you and different creeps from the mansion, posing or hanging out at various events
Others have people he doesn’t recognize in them, and he realizes he doesn’t know much about your life before you joined the mansion
He hums, taking one of the framed photos to trace over the outline of your face
You’re grinning at the camera next to someone he doesn’t recognize, your arm thrown over their shoulder
Both of you look like you’re mid-laugh
Your smile’s utterly contagious
His heart swells in his chest
It’s only dampened by the reminder that you don’t feel the same
He sets the picture back down, trying to ignore the bitter sting of unrequited love
Focus, he tells himself
He has to find somewhere to leave your underwear that won’t be obvious they were ever taken in the first place
Next to your door, he spots a hamper for dirty laundry
Bingo
He peeks inside, which in hindsight, he really shouldn’t have
He should’ve just dropped the panties inside, then left without looking back
Because there, amongst various t-shirts and jeans, he sees them—those fucking shorts
The shorts you were wearing when he ate you out, when he fingered you at the kitchen table
He swallows thickly
Twice now
Twice he’s had a sexual encounter with you, and both of those times, you were wearing these shorts
The shorts that hug your ass so perfectly, that show off just the right amount of thigh
He wonders if they still carry your scent
He can only imagine they do
Tentative hands reach out to them
He feels the fabric against his fingertips, and he’s reminded of the way your skin had felt against his knuckles when he’d stroked over your leg
He can’t do it, he realizes, he can’t return your underwear
It’s all he has of you
It’s all he can use when he’s aching for you
Would taking the shorts be too far?
In a split-second decision, instead of taking your shorts, he takes another pair of panties that’d been tossed into the hamper
Just like the first pair, he stuffs these in his pockets, then quickly walks out of your room
He’ll return them, he thinks, he’ll definitely return them eventually
He’s just not ready to return them just yet
Thankfully, no one catches him leaving your room
And he’s so, so close to reaching the sanctuary of his own room when, much to his mortification, he hears you calling out to him
He freezes in his tracks, his hand just barely hovering over his doorknob
“Oh, hey Jack, I was looking for you!”
He can barely look you in the eyes as he turns to face you when you approach him, but hopefully, you don’t notice anything suspicious through the cover of his mask
“About the campfire I mentioned—“ you pause, looking at him
It’s like the underwear are burning in his pockets
“Yeah?” he asks, trying not to flinch at how the guilt so obviously seeps through his voice
“I know I said it was supposed to be tonight, but we’re pushing it to tomorrow because it’s raining”
When he doesn’t say anything, because he just doesn’t know what to say, you hesitate
“…Is that alright? Do you still think you’ll join?”
He nods
He feels like a deer in headlights
“A-alright, well… I guess I’ll see you then”
He nods again
You seem to hesitate again, like there’s more you want to tell him
But then you turn and leave
And as soon as you do, he opens the door and quickly closes it shut behind him
He was supposed to return your panties
Not steal another pair
He’s only gone and made things worse yet again
What the fuck is wrong with him?
545 notes · View notes
daddyhausen · 2 months
Text
commission: 4/4 for — @coleskingdom
。 ・ : * ˚ : ✧ 。 「 ANGEL EYES 」 。 ・ : * ˚ : ✧ 。
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「 MASTERLISTS 」 | 「 AEW MASTERLIST 」 | 「 ADAM COLE MAATERLIST 」
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「 SUMMARY 」 —  after he betrays your brother, adam makes an attempt to reconcile with you
「 WARNINGS 」 — 18+, [ MINORS DNI ], dubcon brother's ex-best friend, gaslighting (kinda) thigh riding (kinda), praise, dirty talk, dom!adam, sub!reader, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, male + female orgasms, internal cumshots, vaginal creampie, squirting
「 WORD COUNT 」 — 3.3k
「 PAIRING 」 — fem!reader x adam cole
「 GENRE 」 — smut
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「 TAGLIST 」 — @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @bayleymania @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @legit9thlunaticwarrior @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @harmshake @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore @embermdk @thepalaceofmelanie @violetmacher @seeingstarks @kennysbadkitten @darkangelchronicles @ripleyswife @selena-tyler-564 @auburnwrites @adamcolesbaybay
「 COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST 」
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shock was the only emotion that was evident on your features, the astronomical levels of betrayal that coursed through your veins, holding an icy, unblinking stare at the TV. the live broadcast ended a good forty-five or so minutes ago with a simple black screen and an abrupt audio cut. the last glimpse you caught was of your brother, laying motionless in the centre of the ring, face up staring hazily at the ceiling, not a shred of emotion or consciousness present. the camera panning upward, to a close-up of your boyfriend. adam’s smug expression, a smirk forming across his lips, evil shimmering beneath the ocean blue of his irises, enhanced by the arena lighting. he stared down at max, the devil mask firmly in his grasp, holding it above his head like it was some sort of memento. the screen then faded to black, and you were met with your reflection once more.
sitting in silence, your body numb with what can only be described as a betrayal by proxy. by betraying your brother, adam had betrayed you as well. your trust, your love. everything. countless thoughts of why spiralled through your mind as to what could have persuaded adam to do such a thing, on all accounts he seemed to be thriving with his blossoming friendship with max, and your brother was evidently over the moon that he had found someone who treated him with respect. guess it seemed too good to be true…
you could not even weep, tears have been foregone ever since you witnessed it. you sat in an unblinking, unmoving state, paralyzed by the hurt and anger boiling inside, so much so that you did not even react to the opening of the hotel room door, adam blissfully sauntering in, his features so smug and cocky, dropping his bag beside the door, ready for you to accept him with open arms as if his wrongdoings were nonexistent. still, you did not move an inch, rather choosing to ignore him and his advances for physical touch. hearing a soft chuckle rumble low in his chest as he inched closer towards you. the subtle, yet heavy trudges of his footsteps against the carpeted floors, to the dip in the mattress from his weight as he sat beside you, his breath fanning warm wisps of air against the back of your neck, making the hairs stand up with an uneasy mix of betrayal and anger.
“so this is how it's gonna be, huh?” he remarked coldly, his lanky fingers curled around loose strands of his that had been obscuring your neck from his gaze, the supple skin could be seen ever so slightly through the curtain of the strands, pulling back to fully reveal your neck.
“c’mon angel, you know i had to do it. he was gonna betray me eventually”
his lips met the soft flesh of your neck. the skin was supple and sweet, adam did always have a sweet tooth in that sense, the sickly sweet scent and taste of you left his teeth corroded and rotten, yet he was unable to pull away, unable to resist. despite your protest and obvious attempts of avoidance. adam would not relent, his toned arms snaking around your waist akin to a cobra around its prey, tightening, squeezing around your frame until you were forced to submit.
“but my brother…” was all you could muster, feeling adam’s grip grow tighter in increments as if air escaping your lungs grew sparse, he only fed off of it more, each breath leaving through clenched teeth and pursed lips, cheeks burned and stained, salty in their scent and taste, eyes reddening with that similar burn.
“you should know firsthand what your brother is like. c’mon angel…max only cares about himself”
you lament at your lover's statements, still trying to barter on behalf of your brother’s honour. adam’s calloused palms moved downward, ghosting over the tops of your shoulders, fingertips tracing over the spot where he had previously kissed, the skin still damn lightly with the moisture from his lips.
“he would have betrayed you just the same”
”he wouldn’t-“
“of course, he would have. you’re a far superior wrestler than he is. yet he relished in the glory while you’re left on the sidelines…that hardly seems fair now does it?”
adam was right in the sense. max did always have this underlying jealousy of him during the formative years of your childhood. maybe it's the older sibling syndrome or complex? once you were born he was cast to the side in some sense. his achievements seemed minuscule in comparison to his perfect little sister. despite you never fully taking note of it, that’s just how max was, how he’s always been. the occasional bullying was just playful sibling banter, it's how he showed his affection. it could not be something more malicious…right?
”angel, look at me…” adam’s hands cupped your cheeks, hardened fingertips, drawing small circles into the apples of your cheeks. “my pretty little thing…”
his voice was teetering on the borders between affectionate and condescending. sounding so sickly sweet in your ears that you could not help but peer up at him, all teary and doe-eyed. innocence personified. the crystal blue of his irises glowed dimly in the moonlight, staring you down.
“you are nothing to your brother.” his remark was stern, and in a way truthful, making the avoidance of your gaze all the more disheartening. his fingertips wrapped around your chin, gently tapping at your jawline in soft thrums.
“but…” he paused, not hesitant, just trying to add emphasis to his next few words.
“you’re everything to me”
his words were soft-spoken, yet manipulation ran course through them. adam was no saint and you knew that. you almost foretold his betrayal of your brother, but…through adam’s actions the last few months you’d thought a change within his mannerisms would have been a good thing. but he was only prolonging the inevitable.
“adam-“
he wouldn’t let you get a word in. silencing you with simple guidance towards his chest, cradling your head against the study wall of his chest, palms smoothing down the flyaways of your hair as you rested, wide-eyed from the studded interaction
“shh. sweetheart. forget about your brother. i’m all you need”
the soft lull of his words was enough to dry your tears for the moment, just to feel secure in his arms was enough.
”i’m the only one who truly knows your worth, angel. you don’t need anyone else but me”
you could only hum in response, body numb to his words, numb to the clear intentions he possessed as his hands took free roam of your body, trailing down your shoulders, around your chest, pulling you back into the warmth of his figure, you succumbed to it, reveled in the heat. despite adam being the cause of your pain, he was the only person who provided comfort, and you loved him so…you weren't going to just throw him out, kick him to the curb when he’s the one you desire most.
“let me take care of you, my angel”
his words corrosive, rotting away the hatred that had blinded you for the past hour and a half. acidic in the way his voice melted through skin and bone, eroding your psyche until his words truly penetrated your mind. indeed, all you needed was him and him alone. adam’s ring-worn palms cupped your breasts through the hoodie of his you’d been sporting, the fabric encapsulated your frame, leaving you a shapeless figure for him to explore and identify your curves. his natural skin tone left blotchy from when his sweat rinsed away the fake tan. he thumbed your nipples through the fabric, watching the buds peak and stiffen from his subtle touch, observing the way your body shuddered in reaction to it. so responsive, so good.
a small mewl escaped your lips, you should be mad at him, you should not be reveling in the simple pleasures he provided. adam grew satisfied with your responsiveness, his cockhead bulging against the thin, breathable fabric of his gym shorts, ones he’d haphazardly thrown on after making his escape from the arena before your brother had the chance to batter the hell out of him. he kept his movements quick, prying the hoodie of his from your body, reveal your, pristine, freshly washed skin underneath, the lingering, albeit faint scent of your body wash clung to your skin, sweet notes of sharp pomegranate and decadent vanilla ignited his scenes as your midriff became more exposed. a subtle, aroused grunt parted his lips as more of your skin fell before his eyes, all naked and bare as he finally managed to free your figure from the fabric. you were completely exposed to him bar the reception of your panties. your pillowy breasts all naked and soft, nipples hardened and aroused for him.
you made a hasty attempt to cover yourself, not out of embarrassment or fear. far from it. you still held some resentment towards him despite his convincing ways of begging your forgiveness…well not exactly, more like into manipulating you into believing his reasons for his betrayal of maxwell.
“oh no we're not doing that, angel” he tugged your wrists, arms that were previously shielding your breasts were now placed firmly at your side, unrelenting in his movements despite your attempts at squirming free.
“adam let go of me-”
“i dont think so sweetheart. i wanna see all of you..”
in your hasty attempt at escape adam had managed to pin you down to the mattress, hands now positioned above your head. his body hovering over yours, keeping you secure as he pressed his knee between your thighs, feeling the build-up of slick in your panties, how your body instinctively squirmed and hips gyrated against it.
“fuck you” you spat, teeth clenched, venom seething from between them
“angel, what do you think i’m doing huh?” his tone condescending, finding it rather cute that you would make a futile attempt to reject him. the sensation of his thigh drawing a rough circle into your clothed clit was almost enough for you to forgive his previous actions. he pressed his body further into you, feeling the meaty head of his cock, throb through his shorts, against your stomach, oh how you ached for him to be buried deep in you, feel the outline of his bulge prodding against the skin.
his lips found their way to your nipples, his cool breath fanned over the buds. goosebumps rose on your skin, pupils widening at the sensation. his tongue drew rough circles around your nipple. greedily lapping up the swollen nub as his lips wrapped around them with a moan, reverberating into the fat of your breast. he sucked on it for a moment, a few calculated swirls of his tongue before he pulled away with a pop, quickly repeating his actions on the other nipple, applying a small bite to the flesh before prying away.
he began to lick hot stripes down your torso, leaving rivers of spit in their wake, your skin glossy under moonlight. adam reveled in the sight. he’d never seen a sight more beautiful. you naked beneath him, trying to put off a form of resentment but the build-up of wetness in your panties said otherwise, even in the dark fabric he could still make out the wet spot, just how incredibly drenched you were for him.
“such a pretty little thing. you're practically begging me to taste you.”
adam’s tongue had a mind of its own at this point, tongue prodding at your cunt through your panties, sucking up the wetness through the fabric, feeling him nudge at your clit.
“a-adam-” your voice hesitant, although he paid no mind to it, instead pulling your panties to the side, far too impatient and lazy to pry them off completely. he hummed in delight at the sight of your drenched cunt. sweetness coating your folds, leaving them glossy under the sheer gaps of moonlight the blinds provided.
“look how wet you are, and here you are pretending that you don’t want me”
he let his tongue glide across your folds, lapping at the slick that dripped from your cunt with a low, guttural hum. he muttered to himself, about the way you taste, how sweet you are, how cute that you're still making attempts to reject him even in your cunt-soaked state. pools of arousal flooded through you as he took your clit between your lips, tugging and twirling the sensitive pearl between his teeth, drinking you in.
“fuck…” he mewled, words muffled into your folds. “i knew you were wet for me, but you're practically drowning me here, angel”
his tongue explored every crevice of your cunt, dipping and diving around your folds, tracing shapes and scribbles into your warmth. the disgusting sucking sounds, sounded so vile in your ears, so noisy and irritating. but the pleasure accompanied with it… it drives you insane with need.
“adam…”
“yes, sweetheart” he peered his head up, lips parting with your cunt for a moment to speak, his lips and beard soaked with your slick. he made no effort to continue the conversation, diving straight back between your thighs, eating you out like a man possessed, a man starved.
“ah- fuck! i need to cum! please! “
your begs proved futile to your cause as be brought you to the brink of release, leaving you on the cusp of pleasure. your eyes rolling back into your skull, hips bucking to meet with the contact of his lips and tongue, back arching in desperation to gain more friction, so close to drawing in hin your sweetness when he decided to abruptly pull away, much to your chagrin.
“you cum, when I say you can fucking cum"
his tone was malicious, impatient. wiping down the slick that dripped from his beard before flicking it over your stomach. an act that made him look disgusted by you and your taste, despite the opposite being obvious. the action left you humiliated and equally aroused for a moment.
“get up. on your knees. turn around” he spoke in short, frustrated bursts through almost needy pants. still, you did as told, despite being disgruntled at your lack of orgasm. your thighs sticky as you positioned yourself facing the headboard giving adam a full view of your, throbbing wet cunt. your thighs still shaking a bit from the pleasure of his tongue, he smirked subtly to himself at the sight. the sensation of his warm fingertips prodding at your cunt, gathering the slick that glistened against your folds.
“pretty thing…” he hummed, a low rumble in his chest. “and here you are pretending you don't want me, even when your little pussy is dripping for me”
with the slick gathered across two of his fingers, he brought them up to his lips, dragging them along the base of his tongue in an exaggerated fashion, letting your juices mingle with his tastebuds, letting his eyelids shut, lashing fluttering softly as he sampled your sweetness. prying his fingers out of his mouth with a noticeable pop that resonated around the hotel room.
“now sweetheart.” he began, hastily shoving his shorts down, his cock flopped out of the fabric, hanging low hand heavy as he proceeded to stroke his already hardened shaft, tapping the swollen tip against the plump cheeks of your ass, small droplets of warm pre-cum spurted from the slip, reminiscent pearls, in colour, on your skin. a soft hum parted your lips, feeling his nudge and part your walls ever so slightly with his tip, prodding past the fleshing curtains of your void, holding his tip between them for a moment as he spoke.
“you’re gonna take every inch of me…”
he broke his sentence momentarily, stretching the meaty walls of your cunt with ease, submerging the head of his cock within you.
“i don’t wanna hear a peep from you unless you worshipping this dick, understand?”
he gave you no time to respond, not to even think of one for that matter. adam gave a harsh thrust, burying himself deep until he bottomed out inside your aching cunt. with a throaty groan, one hand gripped your waist while the other kneaded your plump ass, with a few interjecting slaps in between, holding you to stabilize himself. his cock practically tore you in half, feeling the girth of his shaft spread you nice and wide, so easy for him to claim. his movements your quick and precise, all the while being international just to rile you up further with arousal.
he kept his cock stationary within you, a hand placed in the center of your back, trailing up until he reached your shoulder, pushing you down so that you were firmly trapped between him ad the mattress, ass still propped in the air. he remained silent, his cock slowly began to rock into you, feeling the veins in his shaft graze against the gummy walls of your cunt, feeling the aching pulse between your thighs.
“that's it- fuck- take it all, angel”
his grunts and growls were almost primal, spoke through clenched teeth and a set jaw. his movements, almost painful, burning with insatiable desire as he pulled you back, deeper, cockhead bullying your cervix, so deep in your womb.
your mind in a perpetual state of delirium so fucked out even from the first few seconds of his movements. eyes had made a permanent home in the back of your skull, only blackness was in your vision. spott pooling around the corners of your lips, the cream-colored sheets a shade darker where your lips had parted, muttering and moaning small pleas for his mey. your ears ringing with desire, his voice a mere soft buzzing sound against a cacophony of means.
“oh, you want me to stop? oh angel, but you asked for this.. don’t lie, your pretty pussy was soaked before i even left the arena wasn’t it?”
you couldn’t lie. he was correct in a way. despite the sudden and unannounced betrayal of your brother, adam’s dominance, the way he sat so smug and stoic above him was a sight to behold, one that had your thighs clenching absentmindedly, wetness pooling in your panties and a list’s worth of sinful thoughts to rush through your mind.
with muffled words, you mumbled out a soft ‘yes’ in response. or at least that was what fell on adam’s ears, not that he was paying too much attention anyway.
“so fucking tight for me, sweetheart. you’re practically choking my dick right now”
a buildup of sweat gathered at his hairline, his brows furrowed with a scowl as he worked hard to get himself off. slamming your hips back against his, cockhead tormenting your cervix with vicious, violent thrusts, feeling the clamp of your walls around him. he was incessant on release, his cock swelling to the point where it almost pained him, how heated his body had become with desperation.
“i can feel you, angel, cum around this dick for me baby. i know you want to”
his voice wavered along the lines of dominant and pleasing. so needy in chasing his release he for a second, did not care about yours. your cunt quivered around his length, sloppy sounds of your slick drawing his cock, sweaty skin slapping against the skin you drained him dry.
“gonna cum- fuck - gonna fill this pretty fuking pussy up” his words begin to falter as to did his breath. “such a good girl you are, taking my cum like this baby, oh fuck-mmhmm fuck yes baby”
his milky seed brought a welcome warmth into your want, feeling the heat radiating deep inside your walls, dripping down your thighs as he pulled out, mixing with the watery squirt that stained the bedsheets below.
“oh fuck_’ he panted, adoring the way your perfect cunt looked filled with him, how it leaked out of your pulsing hole, down your slit, and against your clit. how your thighs shuddered, barely able to keep yourself from collapsing into the mattress.
the words he previously stated, relating them like a mantra as he hovered over your fucked out form.
“you're all mine, angel. i’m all yours need”
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