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#and ever since then i haven’t moved on from them and honestly i don’t see myself ever doing that
staliaz · 1 year
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Since when do you ship stalia?
I ship them ever since I watched the show back in 2017.
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stevebabey · 7 months
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Eddie is beginning to wonder if he’ll ever reach a point where Steve couldn’t reduce him to this state.
This state being… transfixed. Eddie is sure he must look like a lovesick cartoon. In fact, if he could manage to drag his gaze away, he’d probably find red hearts circling around his head in a halo, popping like little bubbles.
But Eddie can’t move his eyes. Can’t even close his mouth either.
Steve’s talking to him too, which is most definitely worse — he’s totally missing every word. He can see Steve’s lips moving, pink plush lips wrapping around words but fuck, that was a total trap because now Eddie is just looking at his lips. He tries to refocus, to listen. His eyes just wander back to what he was staring back at the first place.
Was Steve like this all the time? Just a walking around looking so damn delectable?
Or is it Eddie, just a starved man who’s been living off stolen glances, for as long as he can remember? For once, he’s learning, he’s allowed to look.
And by God, is he looking.
Steve’s not even doing it on purpose either, which probably makes the whole thing funnier. Eddie knows what his boyfriend (boyfriend! he thinks giddily in his mind) looks like when he’s cleaned up to impress. He can spot the way Steve preens beneath Eddie’s lingering gaze.
This is not that. Today, Steve is just cleaning, a usual Sunday morning ritual.
He’s got some old sport shorts on and he’s clearly grown a bit since he first got them— unless Hawkins has always been giving out slutty little shorts to the basketball team (They haven’t. Eddie would know if they did.)
He’s wearing one of his wife-beater singlets too. It’s a little on the scrappy side though, considering it’s nearly see-through with how worn it is.
Honestly, in Eddie’s humble and gay opinion, it’s stupidly hot. The dark hair dusted across of Steve’s chest is visible beneath it, the shirt showing off the shape of his broad chest. Even better, his happy trail is visible and goddamn, if that doesn’t make Eddie happy, he doesn’t know what will.
But it’s not even that.
Quite frankly, Eddie’s rather embarrassed that he’s basically blue-screening because Steve is pulling out the cord out from the vacuum cleaner.
But… but he’s yanking it up towards his chest, slow and strong repetitive motions— that take enough effort to make his biceps bulge with every tug.
Eddie can’t stop watching. The cord must be several metres long and he’s not sure if he should be cursing it or thanking it for the view he gets; Steve’s tan arms flexing and rippling. Try as he might, Eddie can’t help imagining how they must look when Steve’s got his hand aroun—
“—hello? Are you even listening to me?”
Steve’s voice cuts into Eddie’s dangerously side-tracked thoughts and he pauses his tugging at the same time. It’s the thing that finally allows him to break his lustful stare at Steve’s arms. Oh God, he just got all hot and bothered over his boyfriend doing the vacuuming.
“Hello.” Eddie says back, because that was the first word to register in his brain. “I mean- yes. I’m—”
Eddie decides mid-sentence that he’s not getting away with the lie. He pivots. “Okay, no, I didn’t hear that. Would you please tell me what you just said, oh lovely sweet man of mine?”
Ever the butterer-upper, he was. Thank God it works on Steve. He rolls his eyes a little but there’s an adoring grin on his lips.
“Man of mine,” Steve mutters amusedly under his breath. He drops the vacuum cord on the carpeted floor and leans down the grab the handle of the vacuum. “You just kinda froze when you came in. I was asking if everything was okay? I’m just doing this room then I’ll be done, if you don’t like the noise.”
Eddie adores that Steve’s taken his silence as though he might be afraid of the vacuum cleaner or something. He nearly snorts aloud at how far from the truth it is.
“Uh huh.” Eddie nods, not bothering to correct him. He jerks a thumb behind him, pointing at nothing. “I’m just gonna…”
He spins on his heel and exits left stage, fast as he can while still looking normal (he’s unsuccessful, as he leaves a baffled Steve behind him.) As he enters into the kitchen and decides to fix them both a pot of coffee, Eddie lets himself giggle over the pure absurdity of what just happens.
It’s mortifying. It’s hilarious. He can never tell Steve.
Except, when Steve comes to find him in the kitchen and trades a kiss for some coffee, Eddie can’t help it. All he ever wants to do is make Steve laugh.
He decides it’s worth the embarrassment when Steve laughs so hard coffee comes out his nose.
Steve teasingly promises that he’ll to try be less distracting, then rescinds his words at Eddie’s abject reaction (“Don’t you dare.”) looking far too smug— in a delighted sort of way. Preening, in that way Eddie loves.
Their first kiss, as Eddie slides onto Steve’s lap and loops his arms over his shoulders, fingers dancing on those tasty arms, tastes a little bit like coffee. Their mugs grow cold, untouched.
Eddie doesn’t mind — he’s too busy finding out that the rest of their kisses taste like something between sunlight and Steve.
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fishfission-dc · 1 year
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Batfamily Powerpoint Night! (Part 5: Cass)
<<Part 4: Jason    |    Part 6: Steph >>
[Masterlist]
Cass: (signs) My turn :)
Steph: Before we begin, I want to clarify that I only wrote the words on the slide and they are exactly as Cass told me to write them. Everything else is alllllll her.
Bruce (stressed): If you are denying responsibility I can’t imagine what I’m about to see.
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Dick: Favorite colors? Steph what’s so bad about that?
Steph: It’s... you’ll see.
Cass: :)
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Jason: Shocking from a vigilante who called herself “Black Bat”
Tim: Steph this seems fine?
Steph (sweating): Guys just wait
Cass: :)
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Barbara: Specific...
Steph: I do love those shorts :)
Duke: Steph was that your big surprise?
Steph: Oh, no. No it’s not.
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Dick: Um so when did you take that photo of my bed? And why have you been in there enough to know my multiple sets of bedsheets?
Cass: :)
Tim: I mean they are a nice color
Dick: Aw thanks Tim
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Jason: UM? THAT IS A PHOTO OF MY KITCHEN?
Tim: We already established that we regularly break into your apartment
Jason: ROY INSTALLED THOSE TILES YESTERDAY.
Cass: :)
Jason: I hate all of you. But I’ll tell Roy that you like it or whatever
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Damian: Brown, I believe I am beginning to recognize the pattern that worried you.
[Stephanie sinks into her chair]
Duke: Oh no. Flattered, but oh no
Tim: Duke. Duke what is that
Barbara: Oh my god that’s like... iOS -5
Duke: LOOK I like my phone :(
Jason: So you haven’t updated it since 2010?
Duke: i get it i need to change my password can we please move on
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Tim: CASSANDRA.
Jason: Oh my god
Tim: WERE YOU IN THE CEILING? CASS WHAT IS THIS
Cass: :)
Damian: All of your inabilities to detect Cassandra’s presence is rather sad. I would know immediately if someone entered my space or tampered with my possessions.
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Jason: So I assume you knew all about this “tampering” then, Gremlin?
Damian: move forward move forward move forward
Dick: Aw, Damian! You never show us your art!
Damian: it’s not even finished please god stop looking at it Cassandra progress with the presentation
Bruce: That is very nice, son.
Damian: ...thank you Father.
Cass: :)
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Tim: IS THAT BRUCE SLEEPING
Jason: HOW DID YOU...?
Dick: Oh my god...
Bruce: I don’t even... okay. Yeah, sure. Thank you Cassandra.
Cass: :)
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Duke: Cass, I hope you know you terrify me.
Damian: This was... educational.
Steph: I thought that would go worse honestly
Tim: I mean we already know she’s kinda creepy like that, at least the intentions are good?
Jason: Or she’s totally messing with us. And I don’t think we’ll ever know that answer.
Cass: :)
Steph: Alright well I can go next :)
<<Part 4: Jason    |    Part 6: Steph >>
[Masterlist]
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keen-li · 7 days
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MA'AM
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18+
MDNI
Neighbour au. age gap au (reader is older than jk). kissing, touching, oral (female receiving), fingering, jk calls reader ''ma'am''. reader is kinda lonely, bored and untouched. p in v, no protection (be wise and condomize guys).
this is all just fiction, don't take it too seriously.
plus im stil learing to write smut, so go easy on me.
helpful and positve feedback is appreciated.
Sorry for any typos.
--
‘’oh yn,’’ you hear a familiar boy-ish voice speak.
And when you turn, your eyes are met with jungkook.
You know him cause he’s your neighbour, but you rarely speak seeing that you have nothing in common but he’s always kind and sweet whenever you bump into each other.
Like right now.
‘’jungkook’’ you say surprised to see him. ‘’how are you?’’ you give him back a smile.
You haven’t seen him in a while, he must be busy with college (you assume) or maybe he’s busy with some girlfriend. Guys his age are usually swarmed with girls. Especially seeing how attractive he is. The college girls must be having fun with him.
You admire his hair that seems to have gotten longer. You can’t help but notice how good he looks with it.
‘’i’m good, hope you’re doing well..’’ he pauses in his speech ‘’haven’t heard from you in a while. I almost thought you moved out’’
You chuckle at his assumption.
You shake your head lightly as you chuckle ‘’nope. Just busy with work’’
‘’i dont think i’d ever move out honestly’’ seeing as this apartment has a fair price for rent.
He chuckles.
‘’im glad thought i scared you away’’ he says worriedly.
‘’you’d never scare me away’’ you mumble out suddenly feeling nervous.
‘’with all those noise complaints you handed to me?’’ He says with a warm joking tone.
You can’t deny that a lot of noise comes from jungkook’s apartment, that you had to report him. You kinda feel childish for doing it, he’s a college boy anyways. All they know is noise.
‘’but i do get it. I make a lot of noise’’ he uses his pointer and middle finger to rub his lower lip, you get the chance to admire his tattooed finger and pierced lip.
You feel yourself swallow the lump in your throat and bite your lip. You don’t know why you always feel like this when talking to jungkook, maybe it’s his hovering figure, intimidating voice or piercing brown eyes. Even though his eyes give off a soft innocent look you can’t help but observe the sensuality in them.
‘’um yeah’’ you don’t know what else to say. Your eyes can barely look at jungkook while his eyes can’t stop looking at you. There’s no way a college boy can make you feel this nervous. You thought you had outgrown it.
Or maybe it’s the aloneness since your last boyfriend. It’s been quite depressive but you try and not let it eat you up.
But it’s hard when you and jungkook’s walls are as thin as paper. and can hear everything that goes on. Especially when he has a girl over.
You don’t mean to listen to what happens, but what else can you do when you’re laying in bed, bored and lonely. It seems sad you end up finding your hand in-between your thighs as you hear how jungkook pleasures.
With all the groans and name moaning you have come to the conclusion that jungkook must be a great fuck. But it’s not like you’ll ever know. Do you even want to?
You can never fuck someone younger than you right? You’ve always dated older men or at least someone the same age as you. You’ve never been with a younger guy before.
But jungkook seems like he could definitely go for an older woman.
Wait.
Does jungkook want you. He does seem to give off that vibe but maybe you’re in over your head. Jungkook wouldn’t want you there are so many better options for him. So many better girls for him. Not you.
‘’so do you like those?’’ he askes pointing to the basket you have filled with ramen noodles cups.
You chuckle embarrassed.
‘’ yeah i do but, i mainly buy them cause i don’t have time to cook’’
He nods.
‘’maybe i can come cook for you one day’’ you laugh but he’s actually serious.
‘’oh, i wouldn’t mind but i assume you’re busy with school’’ you swing the basket lightly and unconsciously.
‘’i can find time’’ he says a little rushed out.
‘’then i wouldn’t mind’’ you smile.
‘’you going home?’’ he asks.
You nod.
‘’i guess i can give you a ride home, if that’s alright with you’’
You wouldn’t mind at all.
-
The ride back home was quiet. It still baffles you to how jungkook has a car.
When you were in college you could barely find money to buy food, let alone a car.
And even with a job you can barely find money to buy or rent a car.
‘’thanks for the ride, it was nice meeting you today jungkook’’
The way you smile and say his name makes a hot flash rush through him.
If only you knew how many times his thought of you calling out his name. Sometimes he wishes it was you in his bed, toes curling and back arching.
If he got the chance, he’d show you how you deserve everything.
You don’t deserve to get yourself off and barely get off.
Did he ever say that the walls are so thin that he can hear you too.
He’s heard your frustrated moans and grunts. And all the times you cursed cause of how hard it was to get your high, sometimes his heard you cry and it breaks his heart.
He wishes he could get a chance to please you. He’s never wanted to please someone so bad.
He’s never been so desperate to get on his knees and run you dry of all your juices. To feel you claw at his back as you take him so well.
But he’s also never thought of being with an older woman.
Jungkook knows you’re older than him and he doesn’t mind. Actually he makes him want you more.
He wants you like air and if he doesn’t get you now he feels like he would stop breathing.
So if he doesn’t take this opportunity now he might never have the chance to.
‘’do you wanna, come eat ramen with me?’’
-
You don’t know how it happened. But he asked you to come over to his, you didn’t see a problem with it so you said yes.
But you don’t know how you went from laughing over some movie to grinding on his lap as your lips intertwine hungrily.
Fuck. You never thought you’d be doing this with your neighbour and fuck you never thought it would feel this good.
Your hands roam his firm chest, and your thoughts are proved right, he does like the gym. Though you could’ve known that without clawing at his chest.
These younger guys are always in the gym, like their life depends on it.
Your gasps and moans mix. You don’t know how innocent sounds of laughter turned into hot whimpers of need.
Maybe it was the stares that seemed to linger for longer than they should have.
Jungkook takes a moment to take in your face but then his lips are soon on yours again as eager as ever, and you accept them.
He kisses you with eagerness and desperation. Desperation to touch and feel you in every way.
You moan into his mouth as you feel the wetness grow between your legs. You hate how a college student, has you this hot and soaking wet.
You’re busy devouring each other’s lips but you don’t fail to recognize the tent forming and touching your centre.
Jungkook’s hands rummage over your back and over your hips and to your ass, he sqeezes your ass lightly which causes you to jumb lightly.
‘’you okay’’ he asks
‘’yeah just never had anyone squeeze my ass like that’’
That boy-ish smile of his is far gone, now a manly sexy grin paints his face. A grin like a wolf looking at a lamb as it’s next meal.
‘’you’ve never had someone touch you like that’’
You shake your head. You hate how jungkook makes you feel like a highschooler losing their virginity.
‘’who have you been fucking that doesn’t want to touch this ass’’ he squeezes your ass again, and you’re embarrassed when you release a moan at that action.
‘’i don’t know’’ your words come out more whiny than you’d like.
He moves to your neck and you move it to accustom him into the space. He places some wet and gentle kisses.
‘’i’m not like them though. I wanna touch every part of you. Wanna taste every part of you and feel you on me.’’ He kisses your neck again and the smacking sound of his lips meeting your skin causes you clench. ‘’i wanna treat you right, i wanna make you feel good’’
You don’t know how true his words are or if you can even take them seriously. Maybe it’s the lust talking. He’s a young man, he wouldn’t want to waste his days with you.
‘’don’t you have other, younger girls. You wanna make feel good.’’ You just had to ask.
The chuckles he releases causes a rush of blood to your groin.
‘’all i think about when i fuck them is you’’ he kisses you again.
You don’t want to believe him but your heart can’t help but flutter. You don’t want to get hurt again but something tells you jungkook is far from hurting you. But you can’t trust that feeling, what if that feeling is just how good it feels to be on him.
He has a great way with words and it would work on you every time, cause you haven’t grown out the naivety of your youth for some reason.
Jungkook knows when and how to say the right words which makes you scared. Which makes him dangerous. All these young boys are to slick with their words.
‘’yn, don’t think’’ he whispers against your lips. He must have noticed your distance all of a sudden.
‘’don’t think of anything but this’’ he pecks your lips.
‘’i’ll try’’ you coo.
‘’i’ll make you’’
his lips are back on yours desperately. And the sound of your lips smacking and you whimpers fills the room again.
His lips go back to licking and sucking that one spot on your neck. His mouth on your neck and hands on your hips helping you grind against his clothed crotch makes you gasp for air.
You’ve never had anyone take their time with you like this, they’re usually quick to just get it in. But not jungkook, he takes his time enjoying and tasting every part of you. Why wouldn’t he when he’s been thinking about this moment and taking cold showers to stop his natural desire for you.
Being with jungkook tells you how much you’ve been missing and how much you need to learn. It’s like going back to your college days.
‘’fuck jungkook’’ you moan when he nibbles at your neck. Your hands move from his chest to his neck then to his long hair.
You unintentionally pull at his hair and you love how he groans when you do so.
The need and ache between your legs grows strong as you grind harder on his lap. Jungkook watches how you move against him trying to find your high. He promises to give it to you but he needs to feel more of you before he does so.
You gasp when he plops you on your back onto his soft couch.
‘’jungkook...’’ you call out and he stops his action to attend to your need.
‘’yes’’ he sounds so submissive as he says so.
‘’i want you’’ your hips move up to feel some friction. He chuckles at the action.
‘’i want you too’’ he smiles as he pecks you on your forehead.
‘’no. Like i want you. Actually i fucking need you’’ you whine out. You’re probably gonna be so embarrassed later but right now you need him.
Your hand reaches for his belt but his hands stop you. You feel embarrassed and confused, you know he’s hard. You can see his fully grown bulge. But why does he want to take so much time.
‘’i wanna taste you first’’ he whispers by your ear.
Fuck. You’ve never had anyone want to eat you out. It’s been a while since anyone went down on you.
‘’jungkoo-‘’ you want to protest.
‘’please yn’’ he begs. ‘’i need it’’ his lips are against yours as he says in a whisper. His lips are on yours for a second before he leaves you wanting to taste his lips more.
You watch his body move down and you can feel your wetness drip down.
‘’fuck...’’ you hear him groan and grow a little self conscious.
‘’what?’’ you lift yourself up a bit.
‘’it’s just that you’re so fucking gorgeous’’ you can’t help but blush and feel a little weird. You’ve never had anyone ogle at you pussy like that.
‘’jungkook..’’ you call out in a whine. You can feel his breath breeze over you centre and it makes the need grow stronger.
‘’i’m sorry, im staring’’ he says and before you can tell him anything his lips are on you, hungrily.
You release a sharp moan as his lips make out with yours.
He licks a long strip of you pouring juices, your taste sinking into his tastebuds.
‘’so fucking good,’’ he groans. ‘’and so fucking wet’’ you feel his finger run through your folds.
‘’jungkook please. Fuck...’’ you don’t even know what you’re pleading for but you are.
Jungkook adheres to you unspoken cries, as he dives back into kissing you and massaging your clit.
Your hand finds it’s way to his hair and pulls. The groan he releases sends electricity through you.
You’ve never felt like this, nobody has ever put this much effort into touching you.
And jungkook has never put this much effort into eating pussy, but for you he will and he is.
He adds his fingers into you as he pumps into you.
‘’fuck you need to be fucked right’’ he says at your tightness. You can barely hear what he’s saying over at how hard he’s slurping.
With the way his digits work into you and his tongue sucks on your clit, you can feel that feeling you’ve been chasing.
‘’fuck jungkook, im going to-‘’ jungkook smiles at how you can barely finish your sentence but he knows.
The feeling grows closer and your heart races in excitement.
But then all of the sudden the feeling is gone and you’re about to curse out jungkook who’s now moving up.
‘’what the fuck, i was going to-‘’ you whine angrily.
‘’i want you to come over my cock’’
You don’t argue, he’s the one in control after all.
‘’ then please fuck me’’ all you can do is plead. It’s so embarrassing pleading for him to fuck you. You wonder if girls his age are this desperate too.
‘’yes ma’am’’ he says as he takes off his shirt, for some reason him calling you ma’am makes you more aroused.
‘’don’t call me ma’am’’ you say blushing but jungkook knows, you’re bullshitting.
‘’yes ma’am’’ he says with a cheeky grin knowing that it makes you clench around nothing.
You watch him unbuckle his belt and you’ve never seen anything this attractive.
As you watch him you anticipate how his going to feel and how you’ll wrap around him. That’s all jungkook can think about too as he strokes himself slightly, though he’s been hard since he saw you in the grocery store.
You feel his tip slide through your wet folds and you can’t help but suck in a breath. Jungkook can’t help but whimper at how wet and good you feel already.
You clench desperate to feel something inside you. You wonder if it will hurt, it’s been a while for you anyways. And he looks like he could stretch you out good. But you’re too needy to worry about that.
You gasp when you feel him move into you, slow and teasingly. His tip has you wondering if you’ll be able to take all of him.
‘’fuck you’re so good for me’’ he says as he moves in deeper. ‘’i wish i could feel you everyday’’
You can.
You want to say, but don’t wanna make promises. You don’t know if this will ever happen again.
‘’do you wanna be good for me like this everyday, yn’’ he says kissing along your jaw as he settles into you.
He doesn’t move waiting for your answer.
You hum but it’s not enough for him.
‘’yes, i want you everyday’’ you end up speaking more of your mind than you planned to.
Jungkook smiles as he slowly begins to move in and out.
‘’good. You can have me everyday’’
With the ways he rocks into you, slowly increasing speed, you understand the moans of those girls you heard him fucking.
His name falls from your mouth as he continues. Jungkook has never enjoyed being buried in heat like this. And he’s never wanted to stay in forever like he does right now.
‘’jungkook..’’ with the way your nails dig into his arm and you flutter around he knows you’re close.
But so is he. Your high is his target as he continues to stroke.
Jungkook twitches inside of you as you both reach your highs.
He lays on top of you as you breath heavily. He tries to keep his weight from crushing you.
‘’next time i wanna be on top’’ you say with the energy you’ve got left.
‘’deal. Even though i like being on top, i’ll let you ride me’’ you almost feel that feeling comeback.
You stroke his hair as you watch that boy-ish smile return on his face.
It’s like he’s changed and wasn’t the person balls deep into you seconds ago.
‘’i like this’’ you say comfortable.
‘’i like you’’ Jungkook coos into your neck.
--
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vxnuslogy · 1 month
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— lost to time ft. sae itoshi
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— warnings: angst, character death, slight ooc?
— author's note: a reupload of my favorite work on sae while i finish editing the next 2 chapters of my hazbin series. enjoy!
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— first recording
“hi sae! i heard from rin that you’ll be leaving for spain. i’m really sorry i couldn’t come to see you off, i’ve been busy studying, you know, for exams and stuff. but that’s beside the point! i wish you all the best sae! do your best and when you come back home, you better be the world’s best striker yeah? don’t worry, everything will pass by quickly so don’t miss me too much ok?”
sae hated planes. he hated them quite a lot. in was a constant reminder of that time when he was only 14, leaving home to go to spain to live out his dreams only for it to be crushed 4 years later. sae hated the airport, it was always so busy and so stuffy and so cramped. he hated the feeling of being surrounded by unfamiliar strangers, hated the feeling of people brushing up against him even if they didn’t really mean it. sae hated winter. it was the season he severed his bond with his precious little brother after all. it was the season he turned his back on him and it was the season he had wished to never relive again.
-
— second recording
“hey hey guess who’s sending you another voice message? it’s me obviously, why didn’t you tell me you were back already?! if you did i would’ve picked you up from the airport!
……
is something the matter sae? you haven’t picked up any of your parents’ calls and their really worried about you. you can always talk to me remember? i’ll always be here to listen, ok? don’t bottle everything up, it’ll do more bad than good. well, i have to go now. talk with your parents every once in a while will you? ever since you left for spain you’ve pretty much cut off all contact, even with me. that’s all, good night sae.”
sae didn’t really like flowers. he thought they were a hassle. plants that require specific needs and if not met, they’ll wilt. sae was never fond of them but here he was, standing in front of the counter of a local flower shop as the elderly shopkeeper wrapped a bouquet – filled with carnations, gardenias, lilies, roses, and chrysanthemums. 
everything passes.
— college; third recordings
“i got into my dream college sae! can you believe that! honestly, i was really nervous when i took the entrance exams, but thankfully i studied real hard and managed to pass! i’ll be moving into the dorms soon. i’m gonna miss home. oh and rin! i heard he got into a soccer program recently, isn’t that nice! he’s following your footsteps in becoming the best striker in the world. i know, i know, you aren’t a striker anymore but it’s still nice to know that you’re still into soccer at least. by the way, when will you come back home? i kind of miss you, you know. i never got to see you off and when you did come back i was out of town and really busy. what about we plan a meetup or something in the near future? you know, make up for the times we lost? oh, i have to go now! my parents are helping me move in to my dorm. catch you later sae!”
sae didn’t really like coming home. the house he grew up in for the first 14 years of his life felt too foreign to be called home anymore. his parents felt like distant strangers that he just met a couple weeks ago – they felt more like acquaintances than his mother and father. the photos framed around his home felt like ancient relics from thousands of years ago, he didn’t recognize them. sae didn’t recognize himself. 
maybe he spent too much time in spain to the point where it felt more like home. how ironic, he began to realize. he had flown back to japan to escape from his hell that was spain but here he was, in his home, in the bedroom he used to sleep in for endless nights, wanting to go back to the place that left his heart hollow.
“there’s nothing else i could do.” he tried to convince himself as he sat down on his childhood bed, the bouquet of flowers at his side. he could only sigh and let himself fall back into the bed of his long gone home. “everything passes.”
“hey hey hey it’s me again! how have you been sae? i’d like to think that i’ve adjusted pretty well in college. made a few new friends and met some old ones. honestly, i almost didn’t recognize them! i mean, do you remember makoto from middle school. he was a such a problem child back then and now look at him! he’s a scholar now! i guess everyone just starts to become more mature after hitting 18, who knows. thank you again, for the gift. i was definitely shocked when my roommate told me i had a package from you. i can’t believe you still remember that i wanted ‘no longer human’! thank you, i’ll be sure to treasure it. well, that’s all for today. call you some other time sae!”
everything passes.
-
— drunk recordings; the words i wish i could’ve told you sooner
“how do you work this again? ah got it! hehe, hi again sae! i’m at a party right now, man maybe you were right, i do have shit alcohol tolerance. but it’s fine. don’t worry, i’m already on my way home and the driver isn’t some creepy dude that might kill me.
……
you know, i like you very much but i don’t think you’ll believe me. i know i jokingly said that we should marry each other if we aren’t dating someone if we hit our 30s, but i kinda wanna marry you even if we aren’t 30 yet. is that weird? i really miss you. please come home.”
……
“hello? god that was so embarrassing… sorry, could you just forget about what i said in the last recording? um just, gosh i don’t even know. denying it won’t really help right haha… it’s in the past now so don’t mull over too much ok? please, just disregard that last recording. i’m really sorry, it was just me being drunk.”
sae did not in fact disregard that recording. in fact, sometimes in the dead of night he’d think about it and wonder, if he had replied to that specific recording would things have ended differently? 
sae didn’t like deep and evoking questions about ‘what if’s’, he finds them annoying most of the time. and yet here he was now entertaining the idea. bouquet in hand as he casually walked around the neighborhood that the both of you had grew up in. the same twists and turns, same houses, same playground, same everything.
yet the silence was too loud, even for him.
everything passes.
-
— graduation recordings
“well, i think it’s safe to say i survived. i graduated sae, are you proud? man i still can’t believe i was a few point from getting the valedictorian spot but oh well. alls well that ends well i suppose. i heard you won your recent match congratulations mr best midfielder! kinda wish i was there to see it, but don’t worry! in your next match i’ll definitely save up enough money and buy those tickets to spain and your match one day! just you wait, i’ll be the screaming my lungs out and support you, i’m still your number one fan after all!”
sae had some feelings of dissatisfaction when you did not in fact get those tickets to spain and his match. maybe it was his wishful thinking but he really did wish you were there. but he knew it was impossible. 
he remembered the feeling of anger and frustration running through his veins, cursing the heavens above because he felt the need to show the gods his emotions. sae hated thinking about you in that moment. he hated how he felt like he was in a new version of hell whenever you just happened to cross his mind. sae hated you very much.
everything passes.
-
— recordings from 2 years ago
“i’m sorry. i know you should’ve heard it from me but i guess my family beat me to it haha. to be perfectly honest with you sae, i had no plans of telling you. i’m sorry. its just, the thought of breaking the news to you. how could i ever do that to you? i’m sorry. god i’m so sorry sae.”
……
“hey. i received the gift you sent me. you didn’t have to , you know. now i kinda feel bad about having you go on break in the middle of soccer season because of me. but still, thank you. i appreciated you being here, with me. it was a refreshing feeling, talking to you again and just hanging out. work has been really stuffy and felt like i was being caged but you came. you suddenly appeared and suddenly everything was alright again. i know we only said goodbye a couple minutes ago but, i miss you already. sorry. this sounds really weird doesn’t it? anyways, thank you again for the gift. i’ll be sure to wear it everyday. that’s all, have a good night sae.”
……
“hey. sorry for calling at such an odd time. i just. i just felt a little lonely. i sound so stupid i’m sorry. good night sae.”
……
“makoto dropped by today. god he was as annoying as ever but he really cheered me up. he managed to confess to this girl he’s pining over since sophomore year. i’m happy for him. but it really got me thinking about us. i know i told you to forget about that one recording because i was drunk but now that i look back on it, i wasn’t really honest. to you and myself. i know this may be the worst timing to confess but yeah, i like you very much. since primary school, as cliche as it may sound i think it all started when you stood up for me from those bullies. now that i think about, i practically glued myself to your side ever since that day didn’t i? i’m glad you didn’t really mind that. i remember always using homework as an excuse to always have you hang out with me even though i completely understood the lesson. man, where did i get the confidence to do that stuff? but i guess those times are lost in the sands of the past i guess. oh right, sorry, i forgot you didn’t really like those type of stuff. getting all deep and whatnot. well that’s all, i’m getting pretty tired already so i’ll head to bed. good night sae.”
everything passes.
-
— present
“hi. thank you by the way. i don’t know, i just don’t think i’ve ever said that you recently. so, thank you. its a bit funny isn’t it? i would almost always talk your ear off every recording but this time, i can’t even find the words to say. my parents came over, talked to them a bit. rin visited as well. he’s gotten a lot taller than i last saw him, he’s probably taller than you now!
……
sae, thank you. for everything. i’m glad we stayed in touch. i’m glad we stayed as friends.  thank you for making my days seem just a tad bit brighter, though sometimes i wonder what it would be like if we were, you know, dating. wonder what the difference would be. i mean we’d still talk to each other right? maybe holding hands and kisses but that’s pretty much it right? but thinking about it is useless right now. maybe in an alternate universe were actually married and adopted a cat like how we used to talk about.”
“you know, before this very moment. i accepted my fate already. i was content, i was doing fine but now. sae, i don’t want to die.”
“please remember me ok? and i’ll be sure to remember you. i’ll see you again, sae.”
“nii-chan..”
sae could only put his phone back in his pocket. his younger brother standing a good distance away from him. he could only imagine how rin looked like right now. was he pitying him, grieving with him? he’ll never know because he will never turn to look at him. not when your right in front of him.
how many times had he played all your recordings for the past 2 years? maybe a little over a 100 times? maybe close to 200 now?
sae removed all those thoughts as he placed the bouquet on the ground, the wind seemed to answer to his call – you seemed to answer to his call. despite all the pain, all the misery, all the bitter waves of grief that flooded his being whenever he played your recordings, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. he didn’t want to forget what you sounded like. your voice reminded him too much of home.
“happy birthday you idiot.” he said to you, keeping his hands in his pockets, watching the leaves of the flowers in the bouquet sway with the wind. two pieces of paper underneath it threatened to be blown away. “you said you wanted to come visit me and watch my match, well now you can.” two pieces of paper, one a plane ticket to spain the other a ticket to his upcoming match two weeks from now. “you better come watch me alright?” he could only bitterly smile. 
“you’re 30 now,” he whispered, before getting on one knee. placing a velvet box in front of your gravestone. “you should’ve waited for me, you idiot.” sae could only mutter those words to no one in particular. it was as if the world had stopped for a moment, the wind had stopped howling, the sun was nowhere to be seen. he could only see you. “i wanted to marry you too, y’know.”
sae could remember every occurrence where he would sit at his balcony in spain every night after your passing. phone to his ear, listening to all your recordings. but you’ll never know how he replies to them, every single one of them with his own. 
“i told the stars about you and what we could’ve had.” he chuckled, “you’re by far the hardest lesson i had to learn.”
standing up from his kneeling position, he gave you one last look before walking away. rin followed suit, but not before placing something at your grave. a pink book that you had loved till the very end. 
sae hated planes, but he flew back to japan every year. sae didn’t really like flowers, but every year he’d get you a pretty bouquet. sae didn’t like coming home but if it meant getting to visit you, he’d come back over and over again. sae didn’t like reading or any deep and evoking questions but he always humored you whenever you asked him.
sae hated all those things but they reminded him too much of you to let them go. 
and just like your favorite author, when osamu dazai asked to die, he simplu agreed; but just before his death, he suddenly felt obsession with life.
everything passes. just like how you’ll eventually get lost in the sands of time.
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darkworkcourier · 1 year
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Could you write Ghost x fem!reader where she finds him attractive but is too shy to actually tell him but also can't hide the way she's feeling, so Ghost notices her interest and eventually they end up in bed (*cough* you know what I mean)? Also Ghost being gentle and protective towards her, plz
Ps. I love your writing!
Word Count: 8314
i’m incapable of short prompt fills, apparently! o, but i am filled with grief!
anywho, reader’s codename is ‘ladybird’ (hc that soap gave it to her because she’s lucky) but is otherwise nameless.
contains masturbation, oral sex, lots of feelings, wee bit of slow burn, ghost being like weirdly emotional and soft, and soap’s gratuitous and unfortunate use of emojis. 💀/🐞4ever
---
The first time it really hits you, you're in a helicopter about two miles above the ground—honestly a terrible place to face your feelings. It's a velvet-dark night, strategically chosen for the new moon, the countryside below nearly invisible. You're almost in a doze, caught up in the Chinook's blades' low, thunderous pulse and the sporadic rocking as it hits little glades of turbulence. Your eyes lose focus on some of the running lights, until they turn hazy, and its only when the man across from you moves his boot do you snap back to attention.
Ghost. Right. You learned his name a few weeks ago during your orientation, but he was deployed on a recon mission only a day later. Price summoned him back for this mission, but aside from a few gruff comments at the all-hands meeting, you haven't heard him say much.
For a moment, you think he might have dozed off, too. He’s leaning back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed. And that’s fair, you think; Soap told you he didn’t think Ghost ever slept.
You silently study him, the way his head rocks a little with the turbulence, how much taller he is than everyone else in his row, the peculiar illusion that the eye sockets of his mask are empty—
And suddenly they aren’t.
He’s looking back at you, dark eyes regarding you passively, even though the mask makes every look significantly more intimidating. For moment that goes on way too long, you don’t look away, your gazes locked. Your heart takes the tracheal elevator to your throat, beating loud enough to drown out the Chinook’s roar.
You look away first, and you swear you hear him snort.
The rest of the journey to the drop-off zone, you deliberately don’t look at him; but when you close your eyes, there he is.
All you can think is ohhhh, shit.
---
Military crushes aren’t abnormal. Put enough people at the peak of physical excellence in a room, throw around some form-fitting uniforms, and mix in a few adrenaline rushes—it’s a goddamn potent mixture. You’ve had your share of mess hall dreamy-eyed gazing sessions, and a few ‘I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go’ moments in gyms and fitness centers. That’s fine; that’s normal.
What you start feeling for Ghost isn’t that.
Nevermind that he’s rarely out of tactical dress, and if he is, he usually defaults to a hoodie or something that doesn’t exactly entice the imagination. And he’s never out of some variation of his mask, so you can’t think woah, pal, do you cut glass with that jawline because as far as you can tell, he doesn’t have one. No mooning over cheekbones, admiring the curve of lips. He has nice eyes, but ever since the night in the Chinook, you haven’t been able to meet them for more than a second before your heart does that terrible little samba again.
Per your mental checklist, aside from being tall and muscular, he doesn’t check all your normal boxes. By all those counts, Gaz or Soap are way better fits. Hell, Soap likes to hang around in his silkies like they’re pajamas, showing off plenty to keep your fantasy fodder trough filled. And you’ve caught Gaz doing push-ups in the lounge, his tight shirt doing wonders for his shoulders.
But it’s Ghost who makes you feel like a hormonal teenager. It’s Ghost that gets you antsy and fidgety when he enters a room. And it’s Ghost that you think about during your rare alone time in the shower, when your hands start drifting south and the tile walls are your only support.
You’ve got it bad for him, and you have no idea what to do about it.
---
You’re doing recon in Berlin when Soap notices.
The mission details are simple: a drug lord known as Keiler using a night club as a go-between for his suppliers and dealers—all further complicated by the fact that he has plenty of friends in the arms trade, and by Laswell’s reports, he’s very generous to those friends. The club is a front, a money laundering wonderland. Through your observation, drugs and alcohol are doled out in equal volume, all to the backdrop of skull-splitting bass and sharp scalpels of strobe lights.
The biggest obstacle is that Keiler likes to use a private room overlooking the club as his perch, and your intelligence says that at any given time, he has a small army defending him. Getting to him requires an incredible degree of finesse. Naturally, Ghost is the one to do it.
You, Soap, and Gaz are scattered around the main floor of the club. Gaz is out on the dance floor, Soap’s taken up a spot near the bar, and you’re in the lounge. It’s the first time you’ve done something like this (and in an outfit with so little fabric), and you’re really not used to being ogled and pawed by a bunch of drunk, drugged, or horny Berliners.
Soap must see your discomfort from his position, as you hear a dry, amused, “Feelin’ a little tense, Ladybird?”
You swallow hard and chase it with a sip of your drink, which definitely needs to be watered down. “I’m fine,” you say.
“You look like you just drank petrol.”
“You’re the one who ordered it for me.”
Gaz cuts in with a weary, “Do we have eyes on Ghost, yet? I’m starting to get tired of people grabbing my—”
“I’m here,” Ghost’s voice scrapes over the comms, causing you to sit up straight and look around. You catch sight of Soap who has his hand curled in front of his mouth, clearly snickering like a heathen.
“Think you scared the shit out of Ladybird, LT,” he says.
He’s lucky he’s on the other side of the room, otherwise you’d pretend to be extremely clumsy and find an excuse to spill your drink on his (very, very tight) shirt. You mouth ‘shut up’ at him, and he reaches up with his pointer finger to draw an invisible halo over his head.
Ghost ignores him. “I’m near the east stairwell, headed to second deck. Got one guard at the far end. Gaz, you seein’ anything I should know about?”
A pause, then, “Negative, Ghost. I’ve got what you’ve got.”
“Copy. Going to second deck now.”
Out of habit, your eyes go to the east stairwell, peering through the haze pierced with multicolored lights to see a single dark shape ascending. He disappears behind a catwalk, then reappears to the right, mingling with the crowd near the second floor bar. Once he’s there, he seems to fade into the throng of people, most in dark clothing, some in masks. Just like that, he’s invisible.
It’s hard to focus on looking calm and happy to be there, but you keep sipping your drink, watching the dancers and feeling the bassline of yet another techno song thrumming in your chest. You’re glad you’re not out on the dance floor, or being called to give come-hither glances to bouncers and guards.
Then, “Coming back down to first deck,” Ghost says, clearly agitated. “Too many guards and too many people. We need another way up.”
Soap grins. “Violence isn’t the answer, LT?”
“Negative. Start looking for another route.”
On cue, you stand up and cross the room to the bar, sliding in beside Soap. He’s fishing for another couple Euro from his wallet, pushing it across to the bartender with two fingers. The bartender gives him a brief nod and refills his glass, while Soap turns his attention to you.
“Any bright ideas?”
You frown and adjust the straps on your top again. It’s a stupid piece of clothing, always feeling like it’s going to fall off. “Only the emergency stairs by the front doors, but I can’t imagine Keiler leaves those undefended.”
Soap looks thoughtful and scratches at his stubble. “Yeah, but probably no civilians, either. And if the door’s alarmed, Ghost can take care of that.”
As if summoned, you feel Ghost appear before you see him, a huge presence over your shoulder that makes you jump. “Jesus!” you hiss.
And Soap, the traitor, laughs to the point of wheezing as Ghost takes up the bar stool on his other side. “I think you’re giving our Ladybird here a complex,” Soap says through his laughter.
Ghost rolls his eyes. From this angle, you can see Ghost in more than just the dim light you’ve been working with most of the night. He’s not dressed too far outside his usual fashion wheelhouse—heavy boots, black trousers, and a loose black hoodie. His hood’s pulled up over a black beanie and a skull-painted gaiter, and he’s foregone his usual thick coating of greasepaint for black-ringed eyes (is that eyeliner?) and a streak of smoke-colored paint that just manages to obscure the color of his brows. The downside (for you, at least) is that the combo manages to draw his eyes into sharper contrast, making them that much more intense.
Suddenly, your heart’s doing the thing again.
Ghost doesn’t seem to notice any change in you, but you think Soap’s actually looking for it. He watches you, brows lifted, mouth curled like a flirtation of a smirk. Briefly, he glances between you and Ghost, and then the smirk appears in full force, enlightenment dawning.
Before he can insinuate a thing, you’re shoving your half-empty glass across the bar top with a too-high, “Bitte.” The bartender only gives you a brief, unamused look before taking your glass and remaking whatever godforsaken cocktail Soap ordered.
It’s not a good distraction, and the damage is already done. Soap knows, damnit. His smile is too easygoing, but he turns to Ghost and starts talking about the emergency stairwell, which is a relief. Ghost looks over his shoulder toward the stairwell in question, and as he does, Soap looks at you and makes the gesture of zipping his own mouth shut, throwing away the proverbial key with a wink.
As he does, Gaz pipes back up with, “Ghost, you copy?”
“Yeah, Gaz?”
“You, uh, know anything about a big guy with a tattoo of a boar on the back of his head?”
Ghost looks toward the dance floor, brows furrowing. “Yeah, that’d be Bauer, Keiler’s right hand man.”
“Great. Glad you know him, because he’s here.”
Shit. He wasn’t supposed to be. If Bauer’s here, then either Keiler’s doing something more than his usual partying upstairs, or Keiler knows someone’s here looking for him. Either way, the mission just got significantly harder, and your night got that much longer.
With a grunt, Ghost pushes off the bar and starts making his way to the emergency stairwell. “I’ll take care of it,” he says. “Keep your eyes open. Out here.”
Once he’s gone, there’s a pause—a very heavy pause. Then, Soap looks at you with an expression that is just a hair too pleased. “Ghost, huh?”
Your face heats up, right as the bartender hands you your drink. You reach for your wallet, only for the bartender to put a hand up and shake his head. “Nein, für das schöne Mädchen,” he says.
For the pretty girl.
“Bet Ghost thinks so, too,” Soap says, and you resolve to definitely spill your free drink on his too-tight pants.
---
Weeks after Keiler’s nice and cozy in a maximum-security prison and the 141 is back at base, you have another miniature existential crisis.
It’s all an accident—just a tempest of bad timing and bad luck. Ever since you came back from Germany, you’ve had a tough time getting a full night’s sleep. It’s easy to blame the natural stress of your work, the long hours, the high-adrenaline action you see more than you ever did before this job. And, well, part of it has to come from Ghost. He’s occupied your thoughts more than ever since the night club.
Your solution is to hit the gym late at night, pushing yourself until you can’t keep your eyes open and no amount of insomnia can overcome it. The first few nights of this effort work fine—you end up in bed around one or two in the morning, and sleep until your alarm goes off. No one bothers you; no one hogs the machines. It’s kind of nice.
However, you don’t account for all the night owls that share the base with you.
You head to the gym late on a Friday night, towel around your neck, water bottle at the ready, podcasts preloaded. If you ever hit the gym during the day, you usually do so in a t-shirt and sweatpants. At night, you’ve started opting for PT shorts and a tank top, happy for the lack of eyes around the room.
Except for tonight.
You open the door into the gym, only to hear the mechanical drone of a treadmill and someone sprinting damn fast on it. For a second, you freeze, hiding behind the corner. Then, slowly, you peer around it, clutching your phone and water bottle close to your chest.
Jesus Christ. It’s Ghost.
Ghost, in a t-shirt. In sweatpants. Running on a treadmill set to the highest incline. Panting.
Ghost, with bare arms, showing a detailed tattoo on his left arm, and prominent veins running over his chiseled muscles. He looks like a fucking Greek statue, and that’s just what you can see.
“Ohhh, my God,” you whisper to yourself, immediately working on an exit strategy that doesn’t involve catching his attention.
Which obviously doesn’t come to pass. It’s something you probably should have learned on the helo ride—Ghost knows when he’s being watched. He turns his head, dark eyes fixing on you immediately. Briefly, he looks back at the treadmill, then down at his watch, and back to the treadmill’s controls. He slows it down, dropping the incline, until he finally steps off and starts walking toward you.
Abort, abort.
You think about fleeing, running back to your room or rolling under a table or hiding behind a counter like he’s a goddamn velociraptor in the kitchen. You do none of those things, because despite your training, you freeze up. No one could blame you, you think. It’s hard to do much else when a six-foot-something skull-faced wall of muscle walks up to you. And you must look stellar, holed up in a corner by the door, your water bottle and phone held up like a shield.
Ghost takes in the sight of you, eyes flicking up, down, up. Heat rises to your face, and down to—to nowhere, because it’s better not to think about it. You suddenly feel too vulnerable in your choice of outfit, naked under his gaze.
“Ladybird,” he says. Your nickname becomes a hot scratch of sound, losing its whimsy in favor of a tone you can’t define. “You need somethin’?”
There’s a patch of sweat by his collar. You stare at it, then at the floor.
“No, I just—  I was, um, just about to leave, and... Yeah, I’m gonna go.”
He’s silent until you finally look up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time in what what feels like an eon. He looks amused, but there’s a quirk in his brow like he can’t quite get a good read on you. “You look like you were about to use the gym.”
You look down at your bottle, phone, and towel like you’re just now noticing them. When you bring your attention back to him, you feel like you need to just kick the door open and escape, dignity be damned. “I... was,” you say slowly. Then, you rally yourself, trying to look upbeat and resolved. “Y’know what? You can keep using it. I’ll come back later.”
He shrugs, but you see it. Some secondary expression slinking around in his eyes like it’s working through the perpetually-moving cogs in his head. He gives you another one of those assessing glances, and for a second, you think he’s going to step into your space. His body language looks primed to do so, and you hold your breath in anticipation for it, unsure of what he’s going to do.
Then he takes a step back, and another.
“Suit yourself,” he says. “I wouldn’t mind it, though.”
Before you can process his words, he’s back on the treadmill, tweaking the settings and raising the incline again. The belt starts moving, and he’s back to looking like power personified, a vision in motion.
You have got it so bad.
It’s a hasty retreat to your room, and once the door’s shut behind you, you’re panting like you had run on the treadmill and lifted weights.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you hiss, discarding your things on the table beside your bed, kicking off your running shoes, then laying down and staring at the ceiling. He knows. He has to. Ghost’s whole job depends on him being observant, and he looked at you like he was reading a fucking book. 
You groan and press your palms into your eyes until phosphenes appear, dancing around and shimmering like fireworks behind your eyelids. You’re going to have to leave the 141 out of pure mortification. You’ll have to go into some kind of witness protection, change your name, and move to the other side of the earth. Or if you stay, you’ll have to pretend Ghost doesn’t exist. You’ll hide behind walls, slinking through the building’s HVAC just to avoid him like you’re working on a heist. Maybe you can convince Soap or Gaz to accompany you everywhere so you can hide behind their bulk.
But then, your horrible brain reminds you of what you’ll miss out on. It runs through a greatest hits reel of your crush so far—Ghost’s eyes, his presence stretching long over you like a shadow, his massive frame, his arms. The tattoo, detailed enough to tell from a distance, and then the thought of running your fingers over it, tracing all the fine points and lines. And are those his only tattoos, or are there more?
And his voice. Jesus, you replay the few words you’ve heard him say over and over, savoring each syllable, each quirk of his accent. Even the last thing he said—
I wouldn’t mind it, though.
That makes you open your eyes again, widening them as you take in the pocks and scrapes on the ceiling. He wouldn’t mind what? Having company in the gym? Having you, specifically, as his company? You don’t know what to make of it, or what he meant by it. Honestly, you feel like you don’t know anything right now.
Except that you want him. That’s the only thing you’re sure of. You want to know how his hands feel on you, how they would run over your bare skin, what the callouses on his fingers would feel like on the most delicate and sensitive parts of your body. Your imagination leaps ahead of you, guiding your own hand down into your shorts and under the band of your panties. You tease yourself, just dipping your fingers into the wet heat, trailing them over your clit like a hint to yourself, coaxing your arousal out of your panic.
His hands would feel different. When you rub your index finger over your clit, you imagine his finger instead, pressing gently against you, building up friction slowly, making you ache. You wonder if he’d savor your reactions, watching you get worked up, grinding against his hand to seek any kind of relief.
“Easy, Ladybird,” you imagine him saying, the nickname now a tease. And he’d know your real name, the one hidden away in your file. He’d whisper it into your ear, breath hot on your neck, his whole body eclipsing yours.
Your pace quickens, fingers running urgently between your clit and opening, causing your core to tighten and your breath to come in short gasps and barely-concealed moans. Ghost would tell you to let them out, let the whole damn base hear how aroused he makes you, how badly you’ve wanted him.
You breathe his name into the small space of your room, a whisper in the still air broken only by the low hum of the forced air in the vents. When you finally plunge your fingers in, it takes every bit of self-control not to outright moan and let everyone nearby know what you’re doing. Normally, you can stay quiet when you get yourself off, but you’re damn near frantic with this, whatever it is Ghost has done to you.
His fingers in you, fucking you in long, languid strokes, drawing himself out and pushing back in—all the while, watching your reactions. When you rock your hips to the pace of your hand, you imagine his voice again, “That’s right. Fuck yourself on my hand. Let me see you.”
You’d show him. Hell, you’d soak his hand, and it would remind him that it’s his fault you’re like this.
The wet sounds of your hand on your cunt is lewd and loud. It’s almost too much, enough to make you stop at the apex of your pleasure, to hide yourself under the blankets in shame and pretend that none of this happened.
But the vision of Ghost keeps you going, keeps your fingers moving in and out, crooking them inside and forcing out a gasp as a white-hot shock of pleasure lances up your spine and settles warm in your belly. The pad of your thumb presses against your clit, and you multitask on yourself, building up that friction, bringing yourself to the precipice.
He’d take you there. He might even pull you back from the edge over and over, teasing you with the fall.
“Do you want it? How bad? Show me.”
God, you would. Any way he wanted, you would show him. You’d beg and plead if that’s what got him to finally make you come.
So you whisper, “Please,” into the night, to a man who is never going to be in your bed, never going to touch you like this, never going to see your pleasure through to the end. The Ghost in your imagination has to stay there, behind locked doors and bulkheads, secured and contained for good.
But until then, you chase your orgasm with him, hitting that divine height and going into a freefall. Blood rushes in your ears, muscles twitching, heart racing. Your head comes off the pillow, back arching, toes digging into the mattress, mouth open on a moan that you refuse to let loose. You come way harder than you ever have using your own hand, enough that when you finally lower yourself back onto the bed, you grimace at the feeling of a wet patch on the sheets.
“Fuck,” you say, very emphatically. To yourself, to Ghost, to the whole damn situation.
Groaning, you reach over and grab the towel, wiping your hand and tucking it under your ass before rolling onto your back again and wondering what the hell you’re going to do.
---
You’re going to hide from Ghost, that’s what.
Captain Price gives the team a few days off to rest up for the next mission, and you decide right then and there that you’re going to spend every second off base, as far away from the barracks as you can get. You’ll get a hotel, order a ridiculously expensive amount of room service, and marinate in your feelings for a couple days until it’s all out of your system. Maybe you’ll go to a bar or coffee shop and chat up some nice person who isn’t a tall, broad, terrifying British soldier. And maybe you’ll have a night of incredible passion and twisted sheets, and it’ll be so cathartic that when you come back to base, you’ll be a whole new person.
That plan holds until your phone goes off while you’re packing up.
It’s a text from Soap: ‘wyd?’
‘Going off radar for a couple days. Why?’
He sends a sad emoji, then two beer glasses clinking together, a soccer ball, and then a big red question mark. Apparently, Soap only knows how to speak in hieroglyphs.
You smile, and type back, ‘Sorry, need to go clear my head.’
Skull emoji. Question mark.
‘None of your beeswax,’ you send, followed by the soap emoji.
‘that sucks,’ he types back. There’s a short pause, and then he types again. ‘cause he was looking for u earlier’
Your heart damn near comes to a stop, and you very hesitantly respond, ‘Why?’
‘idk. think he wanted to ask u smth’
Nope. You’re not taking the bait. If Ghost wants to talk to you, he can come right up and—and you can walk off in the opposite direction and act like there’s something incredibly interesting that you need to see right that second.
You type a few variations of ‘Then he can come and talk to me himself,’ but none of them sound particularly nice. Ghost hasn’t done anything wrong, so there’s no reason for you to act like he has. And for that matter, you’re supposed to be hiding from Ghost, not encouraging him to find you. Instead, you send back a clipped, ‘Okay.’
Nothing.
For one hopeful second, you think Soap’s mercifully let the conversation go, allowing you to go in peace to your nice hotel and your overpriced room service food.
Instead, you get the sunglasses emoji, a wink face, and, ‘k i told him to come see u’.
‘WHAT’
The only response is the skull and the little running cloud dash emoji, suggesting that Ghost is making a beeline right to your room. Panic seizes you and you fling your phone on your bed like somehow it’s going to help. It bounces harmlessly, then lands screen up, emojis taunting you.
Quickly, you start shoving the rest of your clothes and toiletries in your bag without a care as to where everything goes, eager to book it out of there as fast as your legs can take you. Once your bag is zipped up and thrown over your shoulder, you think you might be in the clear. Mission nearly accomplished.
Nearly.
Two solid knocks on your door almost make you hit the ceiling. You hold still, using that Jurassic Park wisdom again: if you don’t move, he can’t see you.
That applies to fictional dinosaurs, not trained killers, and certainly not Ghost. He knocks again, then follows it up with, “Ladybird, it’s me.”
Yeah, you know. That’s the problem.
Briefly, you consider going out the window, shimmying out and potentially getting caught on a base security camera for someone to laugh at later. That doesn’t make the problem go away, though.
You can just tell him you’re in a hurry, that your ride is at the gate right now and you don’t want to keep them waiting. Whatever conversation he wants to have, it’ll have to wait until you get back. It’s a good response. Solid. Foolproof.
And it dissolves the second you open the door.
He’s there, not vanished in the disappearing act you were hoping for, and all that want flares up again the moment you see him. He’s in casual dress like what he wore to the club—boots, jeans, t-shirt, hoodie, balaclava. His posture’s more relaxed, one hand in his hoodie pocket, the other hanging at his side. You meet his eyes, and your regret mixes with desire welling up inside you.
It’s that intense gaze from the helo, the brief but incendiary look from Berlin, the thoughtful gaze from the gym. You’re drawn up in it immediately, and this time, there’s no possibility of looking away. Ghost has you locked in.
He takes in the sight of you, dressed in your civvies, backpack on your shoulders, and raises his brows. “Going somewhere?”
Your mouth is cotton-dry, and you’re proud of yourself for putting a little syntax together. “Yeah,” you say. “I’m headed out.”
Right now, you should say. I’m going out right this second and I cannot be stopped. Do not engage.
But you don’t say that. You leave the words as they are, hanging between the two of you. In that moment, you’re two opposing fronts of contradictions—you want him to go, stay, talk, stay silent, touch you, leave you alone.
Ghost seems to sense this, that you’re not making any move to either speak to him or push him away. He doesn’t get into your space, staying right where he is while looking at you with his head slightly tilted. “Can I come in a sec?”
No. “Yes.” Please.
You take a step back, allowing him to walk into your room. His presence seems to fill it, like there’s too much of him and too little space to contain it. He closes the door behind himself, then finds a spot against the wall (the rare section that isn’t covered by posters or mementos) and leans against it. Still, still giving you your space.
You’re all nerves, waiting for him to speak, yet feeling like you should say something—to get all your feelings out in the open, exposed and waiting for him to pick over and do with what he will. But your anxiety and silence wins out, and instead you fidget, trying to find a point in the room to fix your gaze. Ghost takes all your attention though, holding it in a firm, invisible grip that can’t be broken no matter what you do. You get now, more than ever, why people are so scared of him when they end up at the wrong end of his skill set—he immobilizes them, rendering them completely unable to do a damn thing.
He watches you for an agonizingly long moment, then sighs. “Look, I didn’t want to bother you if you were busy, but Soap said you were around,” he says. Ghost doesn’t trail off or leave a space in his words for you to fill in the blanks. It’s a good thing—no place for you to misinterpret him—but it suddenly leaves you terrified at the possibility of what he’s going to say.
“Just for a little bit,” you hear yourself say, voice subdued and small.
He nods. “Then I’ll just get it out now before you go. More or less a question.”
Fuck. You feel a strange, uncomfortably cold sensation curl up tight and tense in your stomach. The feeling of standing at the edge of a long drop, knowing you have no choice but to let go.
His eyes are locked on yours, unrelenting, pinning. And then he says, “Do you have feelings for me?”
Right. No way to misinterpret.
You suck in a breath—a gasp, jerking at the question even though you knew it was coming.
You could lie. It’d be easy to do, just a few movements of tongue, jaw, and lips. No, I don’t. Three easy words. You could say you appreciate him as a teammate, as a professional, as someone you can trust in tough situations. He has your back; you have his. Anything beyond that is too much, to far outside of the commanding officer-subordinate hierarchy.
But you can’t lie to him. He’ll know. He’s trained in looking for tells, for the slightest quirk to denote that you’re holding back the truth. That, and you don’t want to lie to him.
Instead, quietly, you say, “Yes,” and inwardly brace for impact. Any kind of dressing-down from your C.O. and reminder of responsibilities and duties; or on a personal level, that Ghost doesn’t do relationships. You’re tensed up, waiting for its inevitable blow and all the shrapnel that’s definitely going to land right in your heart.
“Oh,” he says.
Oh.
Just one syllable, said deceptively, uncharacteristically soft. It belies so many things—possibilities, dangers. This man is fucking complicated.
And then he takes a step toward you. Just one. Just enough to close the gap that many inches. You don’t back up, but you’re too afraid to walk to him, unsure of what’s coming next.
He’s looking down at you, gaze passive, calm, and strangely open. You’ve learned new and interesting ways to read his eyes since you fell for him, but this one has an unknown definition, a kinesic oddity that you can’t translate.
And for a moment, you let yourself hope.
Then, he says your name. Not Ladybird. Not your rank. Your name. The sound of it is a rush in your ears, in your whole head, through every artery, vein, and capillary. He takes another step, slower than the first, drawing in closer before he says, “Do you want this?”
You nod. There’s nothing else you can do. You take a step toward him, looking up into his eyes and trying to read everything there. “Do you?” you ask. You’re still waiting for the rejection, as though Ghost is the type of person to lure you in only to shut you down.
Rejection doesn’t come. Instead, he steps forward to close the gap, one of his hands finding your waist.
“Yeah,” he says. “I do.”
Holy shit.
You stare at him in surprise, and the look on your face must be ridiculously easy to read. His other hand goes up under your chin, tilting your face toward him. The touch of his fingers is exactly like you imagined, the callouses on his thumb brushing over the soft skin underneath your jaw, causing you to shiver.
Ghost leans in close to your left side, skull’s grin close to your ear, and whispers, “Thought you hated me. Every time I looked at you, you’d look away.”
A near-hysterical laugh bubbles up in your throat, and comes out as a compressed, breathless giggle. All that time, you were so hopelessly in love with him, you couldn’t look at him without feeling like your heart was about to give out; and he interpreted that as dislike.
“God, no,” you say. “Total opposite.”
He laughs in your ear, and the sound chases out the remainder of that cold tension, replacing it with a newfound heat that feels good. “Wish I’d known sooner,” he says, and one of his hands goes up to push a strap of your backpack off your shoulder.
You ease out of it, dropping it to the floor, before reaching out and tentatively touching his waist in return. Through the fabric of his hoodie, you can feel how solid he is underneath, and you run your hand along his side in silent wonder.
Ghost moves back suddenly, and you only have a second to question why before the light goes out, leaving you in muted darkness permeated only by the bare sliver of sunlight filtering through your curtain. One hand finds your waist again, pulling you close, walking you toward your bed.
All you can think is no fucking way over and over, even as the back of your legs hit the side of the bed, and Ghost is lowering you down. Your back touches the mattress, head on the pillow, and Ghost is over the top of you, his hands bracketing your head. He looks down at you, mostly in shadow, only the bright white of the skull motif visible in the darkness. Then, his eyes flicker to his left, and he abruptly snorts.
You furrow your brow. “What?”
Wordlessly, his hand moves to the right of your head, and he picks up your phone.
Your phone which is still on, showing the emoji-heavy conversation with Soap. Ghost flips the phone to show you the last text he sent.
Skull emoji, kiss, black heart, red heart, ladybug, eggplant, peach, confetti ball, birthday cake.
“What the fuck, Soap?” you say under your breath, grabbing the phone from Ghost. You quickly turn it off and shove it onto your bedside table, groaning in embarrassment.
Ghost shakes his head, and unlike Soap, he doesn’t remark on it. Instead, he brings the situation right back on the rails with one hand going up under your shirt. Then, he says, “Close your eyes a second.”
You do, without question. You hear a faint rustle of fabric, and then his lips press against yours.
You gasp against his mouth, and that thrill you felt at hearing your name seems to rush back through you twofold at the thought that he took his mask off for you. He kisses you firmly, a guarantee that this is what he wants. You reach up with one hand, combing your fingers through his hair, nails scraping along his scalp and drawing out a quiet groan. He smells like standard-issue soap and laundry detergent, and the faint spice of cologne only just clinging to his skin. The feeling of kissing him is dizzying, entrancing, and the sound of it just hammers home that this is happening to you, in your room, with him.
He pulls back just a little, kissing a trail from the corner of your mouth down to your chin, then your jaw, and up to your ear. The sensation makes you shiver again, arching up into him involuntarily. You hear and feel an amused huff of breath, before he says, “What do you want?”
Good god, what don’t you want?
“I don’t know,” you say honestly. “Anything. Whatever you want.”
He nods against your neck, then tilts his head up to press a kiss to your temple. “Tell me if it’s too much, or if there’s something you don’t like. Communicate.”
You grin, mostly at the sotto voce version of his command voice. “Yes, sir.”
He huffs a laugh and continues kissing down your neck, down to the hemline of your shirt. Undressing comes as an easy next step, shoes off first (and they were on the bed, ugh), and then Ghost pulls your shirt up; you lift yourself enough to help him pull it over your head. In the darkness, he does the same, and you watch his silhouette remove his hoodie, then pull his shirt over his head and drop it off the side of the bed. You can’t see his face, but the faint beam of sunlight touches his hair and brings out a hint of pale gold. It feels like a secret shared between you, adding to that warmth building up inside.
He leans back down, kissing down your sternum to the upper hem of your sports bra. He starts to go lower, and you decide then that you’d like to take at least a little initiative.
“Wait,” you whisper. “Come back up here.��
He does, like he’s accustomed to obeying your orders rather than the other way around. You reach up and touch his chest, eager to feel this part of him, the one he typically buries under layers of clothing and gear. He sighs at your touch, head dropping down to rest on the pillow beside you.
He’s firm and toned with well-honed muscle earned through endless missions and exercise. At the same time, the skin of his chest is surprisingly soft—even the scattered network of scars and keloids that mark his body. You feel old and new wounds, some still raised as they heal, some concave with age. They’re long, short, thick, thin, orderly, and jagged. Starbursts of bullet wounds, hard lines of cuts, spatters of shrapnel, textured lines of old stitches. His whole torso tells a long, tragic story from cover to cover, chest to back.
But he leans into this read of him, letting you feel every scar, every painful moment. His breathing is steady in your ear, giving way to the occasional sigh as your fingers trail over his skin.
In turn, he touches you. You don’t have even a fraction of his scars, but you have a few he can note. You know when he touches them, by the way his touch lingers, learning each one. It feels reverential, or communal—the two of you engaging in a silent trust exercise. He doesn’t ask about them, and neither do you. All of that is for another time.
Ghost presses a kiss to your shoulder, then pushes up until he’s over top of you again. His free hand goes down to the waistline of your jeans, finger tracing teasingly over the zipper. “Can I?”
“Yeah,” you say, breathless. As if you’d say anything else.
He undoes the button, then the zipper, slowly pulling your jeans to your hips, then removing them entirely. He sits up on the edge of the bed for a moment, removing his boots, then his jeans. You lay there, watching him move, feeling your arousal start to grow and burn like a low flame.
When he touches you again, you silently agree that you wish you’d said or done something sooner. It’s bliss. He’s gentle with you, mindful even, in a way you’ve never experienced or anticipated from someone like him. He helps you out of your bra, letting you pull it all the way off before his hands palm your breasts in slow, deliberate movements. It’s an extension of his exploratory touches, learning your body inch by inch.
Your breathing quickens, and Ghost looks up at you in what you guess is concern. “Doing alright?” he asks.
Your face grows hot, and you nod, turning your head to kiss his cheek. “I’m fine,” you reply. “I just don’t know what to do.”
It’s not like you haven’t had sex before, but sex with him feels completely different, like it doesn’t belong in the same category. You’ve never wanted someone this badly, or had someone respond to you like this. It’s almost overwhelming, but Ghost reaches up and combs some of your hair away from your face before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Lie back a bit,” he instructs. “And tell me if you need me to stop.”
You do as he says, leaning up against the pillows as he moves down your body, leaving a trail of kisses down your torso to your hips. He’s a shadow moving over you, long and languid, and every touch just adds to the mounting heat. When his fingers touch the hem of your underwear, you shiver in anticipation, then arch your hips to give him a little leverage in removing them. In one motion, you’re exposed to him, even in the dark. Yet after touching him, and him touching you, you don’t feel as vulnerable. If anything, this feels safe. This feels right.
His hands go to your hips, then run slowly along the outer sides of your thighs. You think he might fulfill that fantasy from earlier, fingering you until you’re a mess, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure with his skilled hands.
Which is why it surprises the hell out of you when he goes lower, until his head is between your thighs, sunlight leaving gold stripes along his back.
“Ghost,” you gasp.
He looks up at you, and now more than ever, you wish you could see his face. You only see the faint shine of his eyes, but at that moment, it’s enough.
Then he spreads you, and licks a stripe from your opening to your clit.
If you were entertaining any thoughts before, any fantasies carefully curated in those rare hours of alone time, they flee in that single movement. Even the Ghost of your imagination never did this, tasting and savoring you in long, slow laps that make your whole brain short out like a blown fuse. The sound is goddamn obscene, especially as he leans in close and starts to lap at your clit. It’s a shock of sound in the silence, louder than even your own noises when you got yourself off.
Your right hand finds his head, fingers running through his hair as he licks you. He alternates between short laps and long strokes, tongue circling around your clit, teasing you, making you shudder and moan. It’s frustrating and fucking heavenly, the sensation of ebb and flow, receding and rushing waves of heat building up then flowing back.
Right when you think you can’t take the teasing anymore, he switches tactics. The teasing abruptly ends, and Ghost gets relentless.
You moan way too loud when he sucks at your clit, tongue swirling around it, the sound of his mouth on you loud as a gunshot. You swear they have to hear it down the hallway, or anywhere on base. At this point, though, you really don’t care who hears you, because they don’t have Ghost between their legs, getting them off in ways no deity ever intended.
Then his fingers join his mouth, index tracing circles around your entrance, dipping in slowly, tauntingly.
“Fuck.” The word is sharp in the air, as you arch at the sensation.
It’s too much; it’s not enough.
He tilts his head up a little, but when he speaks, you feel his warm breath ghost over your sex. “Let me hear you,” he says, words drawn straight out of your fantasies. Every door containing that imaginary version of Ghost is unlocked, every bulkhead breached—that Ghost and this one are one in the same.
And when he pushes that first finger into you, you follow his order to the letter.
It comes out as a broken wail, cut off when he starts thrusting and licking you in alternate strokes. His pace quickens, merciless, sharp eyes watching you from the shadows as your head rolls back on the pillow, chest heaving to catch a single solid breath. Your hands drop to your sides, fisting the sheets just to have something to hang onto, any kind of anchor as Ghost guides you through a tempest.
You moan his name, last consonant catching on a sob of pleasure when he starts to add a second finger. Only then does he pause, and the absence of his mouth is stark. 
Then he says your name, temporarily drawing you out of the cumulonimbus of arousal you’re flying through, briefly bringing you back to earth.
You look down at him, the silhouette of his head, small locks of hair sticking up from where your fingers combed through. You see him tilt his head to rest his cheek against your inner thigh, and his voice rolls out like a dull roar of thunder in your ears. “It’s Simon,” he says. “I wanna hear you say it.”
Somehow, hearing his real name in the midst of all this is almost too much. Like the last little vestige of a play on stage falling away and revealing the inner workings of the backstage, all the ropes and pullies holding the show together. He’s more exposed now, more raw, more human.
You reach down, trembling hand brushing over his cheek, over stubble and scar tissue, and the soft skin of a very real face.
“Simon,” you whisper. It sounds like a confession.
He doesn’t reply, but you feel him smile against your hand, briefly turning his head to press a kiss against your palm. Then he’s lowering himself down again, coaxing you out of the eye of the storm and back into the maelstrom. Two fingers thrust and curl, filling you, leaving you empty, touching places that send bolts of pleasure through you.
Your pulse becomes the thunder of the helo’s blades, your body trembling with midair turbulence. Simon fucks you on his fingers, tongue lathing over your clit, mouth fucking worshiping you. He takes you to that precipice, the long fall, the drop through cloud cover to a faintly-marked point on the earth.
The step off the edge feels like perfect, natural progression.
Your orgasm sweeps through you from toe to tip, a roll of white-out pleasure shaking you, wringing a cry out of your mouth that makes Simon fuck you harder. His fingers don’t let up, working you through the tidal wave, taking you to shore on the other side.
You’re boneless at the end, slumping back on the pillow and panting, shivering, taking stock of your limbs and extremities as they each come back online after the outage. You only vaguely register the feeling of Simon moving on the bed, coming up to lay beside you.
He murmurs your name, then kisses you, and you can smell and taste yourself on him. Your hand goes up to run along his jawline, one rogue thought telling you, yeah, you can cut glass with it.
How everything gets so gentle afterwards is beyond you. Simon’s hand is on your face, thumb brushing the soft skin under your right eye. You can feel his erection against your leg, and somewhere in the back of your mind—still tingling with pleasure, shimmering bright and brilliant—you know how you’re going to take initiative.
You break the kiss just for a moment, delighting in the soft sigh of protest you hear and feel against your cheek. Then you lean in close, pitching your voice low like his, hoping it has the same effect on him.
“Hope you don’t have any plans this weekend,” you say, brushing your hand over his shoulder.
You feel him smile against your skin, and he shakes his head.
“Thought you were heading out,” he says.
“Only if you’re going with me.”
One arm goes around your waist, pulling you close as he nuzzles against your neck. “We have some time, though, right?” his voice slides over you, suggestion clear and presented like a gift.
God, yeah you do.
---
Somewhere in between rounds, your phone goes off on your bedside stand.
Once.
Twice.
You don’t hear it, and the short buzz is drowned out by moans and the soft slap of skin on skin. When Simon makes a move like he’s going to check on it, you hook him back in place with your leg around his waist, pulling him in close, then kissing him silent. He falls into it, all too happy to oblige.
So you miss the skull and ladybug emojis, then the volume symbol.
3K notes · View notes
sooniebby · 10 months
Note
For the drabble request uhhhh Hhhnnmmnngftffff,,,,, Naoya degrading his husband (ftm) and fucking him on the ground or against a tree mid-sparring ,,,,,,
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ఌ 𝐙𝐞𝐧’𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚
꧁ 𝙉𝙖𝙤𝙮𝙖 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂
Smut 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙚! ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
The sounds of skin slapping and whimpers filled the area. Repeated sounds of a cry followed by a slap could be heard in the forest. But the person wasn’t just crying—they were counting.
And that person was you.
Smack!
“T—Ngh! Twelve…”
You had gotten used to being slammed into a tree and having your clothes torn through. Sparring with Naoya was always for his pleasure in the most part. He liked how you always lost—no matter how hard you tried.
But your pleasure would always come right before the sparring was finished. His way of…. Rewarding you for taking his attacks with grace.
(Really it felt like being a punching bag because of how weak you were compared to him)
“Honestly, I wonder how this is gratifying for you.” Naoya said, bringing his hand down once more on your ass as you screamed out another number.
“You’d think most people wouldn’t like spanking as an reward after a sparring match… but I guess you’re different.” He eyed your vagina as it dripped with slick from each slap he gave to your ass.
You whimpered in embarrassment. “You said you wouldn’t make fun of me.”
“I lied.” He laughed cruelly.
You couldn’t help the pout on your lips. Your throat was dry from screaming and your ass was aching from his spanking. Naoya didn’t seem phased by your pouts. He simply raised an eyebrow before rolling his eyes.
“Was that fifteen?” You asked, ready to move away from the tree you were clutching at. Fifteen was usually the most you could handle before collapsing. At first, you used to cum easily after the spankings.
But now, after doing them for so long at this point—you weren’t cumming anymore. You had to masturbate once you reached home.
Despite being married—Naoya never touched you sexually or romantically. These spankings was really the only type of intimacy you had with him.
“It was… but you haven’t been reacting as much anymore.. what? You got bored of it?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m sure you know why. It’s because that cunt of yours is tired of some vanilla spanking. You want more, huh?” He whispered in your ear, earning a meep of shock from you.
“I…”
“Huh, speak up. I won’t know unless you speak.”
You shook your head in embarrassment. You did want more. But you never excepted that from someone like Naoya. You were happy to just take the spankings and go.
Naoya shook his head. “Well, since you suddenly lost your will to speak, surely you can use your hands.” And with that, much to your surprise, two fingers slipped themselves into your awaiting cunt.
A cry left your lips as you gripped painfully at the tree you leaned on for support. Only your own fingers ever went inside of you so to feel someone else—someone with much larger hands too—was out of this world.
You swore you could cum at any moment.
But it seemed like Naoya wasn’t sure what he was doing as well. His fingers just thrusted in and out. He didn’t try to stretch you out. Didn’t even try to play with your clit.
Damn, did he not know how to pleasure someone with a vagina?
You wondered if it would be worth it to tell him that he wasn’t doing too good. But you didn’t get to think long as he pulled out his fingers just as fast as he had pushed them in. You whimpered at the lost, trying to look back at him to see just what he was doing.
“I’m sure your cunt really wants a cock to fuck it. That left over part from your past female brain seems to awaken whenever you pleasure your cunt.” Naoya said, patting your ass.
You weren’t sure what the fuck he was talking about but that was honestly normal.
You just hoped he’d go through with fucking you. Being married to him meant you stopped dating (obviously) and had to rely on dildos. But a real cock is much better.
Naoya was silent as you waited with a baited breath. You flinched when you felt a cock rub against your labia, teasing you when it almost went inside you.
“This is what you’ve been wanting for awhile, isn’t it?”
“Huh?”
“Did you really think I don’t hear you at night?” Naoya laughed as he slammed his cock inside of your cunt. You cried out in shock. Fuck, how embarrassing could you be?!
“Playing with your cunt at night, screaming my name… you really didn’t think I heard any of that?” Naoya hands gripped your waist as he used you like a fleshlight—uncaring of you whimpers for him to slow down.
“What was it you usually scream…? Something about fucking your cunt… filling it with cum.. mmh, a baby right?” He laughed cruelly.
You shook your head. You should’ve known the walls in that damn room of yours didn’t block everything. But you always believed you were quiet enough. Guess not.
Naoya’s thrusts were unforgiving. He didn’t slow down and seemed to chase only his release. His hands that held your waist was bruising against your skin.
This didn’t feel like love.
It felt like a true hate fuck.
But you liked it….
At least he was actually doing something with you.
“(Name), c’mon, repeat it for me. I wanna hear it close and personal.” Naoya whispered, his voice more sweet. But you knew it was an act.
You whimpered. You didn’t want to but what if he stopped if you refused. This might be the only time he’ll ever fuck you.
Dignity be damned!
“Naoya… please, cum inside.”
“Aw, you can do better that, slut. I know you can really scream. Do it for your husband.”
You felt embarrassed. Sweat clung to your body.. your naked body from Naoya previously tearing it off. The sound of skin slapping once again filled the forest along with your moans.
There was something inside of you, beside his cock, that wanted to please Naoya. Maybe it was because you had a weird idea that he’d start caring for you. That maybe he wouldn’t just ignore you until needed.
That he would no longer see you as disposable.
“Naoya! Ngh, inside, please! I want…” a cry left your lips. “I want to have your baby.”
“Don’t worry, you will. You’ll serve your purpose as my husband.” Naoya said, uncharacteristically pressing a wet kiss on your shoulder.
You hated how it made your brain short circuit. How you desperately wanted him to do it again. Kiss every inch of your body. Man—he was ruining you.
Your cunt tightened around Naoya as you felt yourself cum. You felt yourself go limp from the orgasm. Naoya wrapped an arm around your waist and held you up as he chased his own release.
It didn’t take him too long to cum inside of you. He held you close—making sure every drop was inside. You didn’t know if you actually wanted to be pregnant. It felt a bet dysphoric in all honesty.
Naoya pulled out, ignoring the whimper that left you from now being empty. The hot cum that filled your cunt dripped out of you onto the grass beneath you.
“Let’s see how much you can carry.” Naoya said, lightly tapping your stomach. “I’m sure you can make me happy—as it is your job.”
You couldn’t find the strength to roll your eyes. You were more focused that he was touching you for longer than a minute.
Sure, you should probably see a therapist for your growing dependence on Naoya… but it didn’t matter.
He was finally going to love you.
Just in his own way.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
I like to imagine Naoya would be terrible at pleasuring someone with a vagina… he just seems like a pathetic man <3
Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @nakedtoasterr @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo @iwishtobeacrow
(Ask to be added to the tag list/you’ll be tagged in every fic I post)
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hollyhomburg · 4 months
Text
I haven’t had an idea about hybrids in a long long time but 🥺 what about pup hybrid koo who gets abandoned by his owners for being too high energy, who waits by the door every day for them to come back, doesn’t like to talk to other humans because they’re not his owner but then slowly, the volunteer who comes into his room to talk to him every day and eat his meals with him and feed him treats starts to chip away at his heart and adopts him.
only to have him wake up Literally lying on top of them, deal with him breaking out of the house and following them to work, everywhere- jk is just so worried about being left behind again but! It’s a good thing his owner is really understanding and doesn’t mind that he’s a clingy little puppy.
And of course Doberman! jk is also still covered with tattoos just like irl jk 🥺 big floppy ears hanging over his face, the breed and tattoos usually turn people off from adopting him because Dobermans you know- they’re /protection/ dogs, they don’t see jks wide terrified eyes hidden behind his big ears. They just see the tattoos and piercings and walk the other way. Im imagining the first time jk ever falls asleep on the m/c, head on her lap, her fingers rubbing against the spot on the back of them where they’re sensitive and tingly saying to herself “at least he didn’t doc your ears, I would have expected- given the other /modifications/ he made to you, that he’d have done that. At least he had the decency to leave them alone”
And she asks cuz of course she does, why jks old owner covered him with tattoo’s and maybe she should have waited until he was more awake but jk just says “liked to come with hyung to work, saved his best designs for me”
Maybe years later they have a run in with Jks old owner and it’s one of the other boys, tattoo artist yoongi maybe? but 🥺 jk finally gets his closure because he finds out yoongi didn’t abandon him he just got into an accident and was in a coma for 6 months and then had 18 months of re-learning how to walk after that. How to do art, how to tattoo again and yoongis finally back on his feet. Even when he was in a wheelchair yoongi never stopped going to different shelters to try and find Jk. Yoongi never gave up looking for his pup 🥺
Imagine tattoo artist yoongi with arms full of pretty floral tattoos in the same style as the ones on jk’s arm 🥺 and the m/c once again questions him about it and jk gives her the honest answer of “I asked for them”
Maybe jk is now faced with the horrible choice of being the one who leaves his new owner who he loves a lot and going back to the person who he once missed more than anything! Of course his little pup brain just comes up with the simple solution! They both just have to move in together to look after him! That way he gets both!! And only- the m/c and yoongi are really opposites- but they decide to try and make being roommates work if only because jk deserves it.
And maybe yoongi starts taking care of her too because he always did let jungkook depend on him lots 🥺 for cooking and brushing out his long fluffy hair and showers after boxing class. And yoongi fusses because around her work schedule she forgets to eat a bunch and he ends up going to drop off lunches because honestly- the tatto shop kinda runs it’s self since namjoon and taehyung took over during yoongis accident- they never met jk because they only bought into the business after yoongis accident when he had to sell off half of it to cover his medical bills (I’m picturing calico mini- a new addition, who took over jks job of checking people in for their appointments and answering the phone)
But anyway back to yoongi and his babying It’s natural for him to say “up!” To her (a total accident he swears) when she’s wearing a soaked shirt after coming in from the rain, blushing hard, but kinda grinning when she follows obediently. Because jk always liked it when yoongi would dress him 🥺 hyungs perfect little puppy doll all pliant and good. And it would be okay if only she didn’t slip up too! Accidentally calling yoongi a good boy on more than one occasion or going in for a “good pup kiss” cuz jk is like- kinda a kissy puppy, likes good morning kisses and thank you for putting your dishes away and “I missed you cuz you just peed kisses and I was worried a monster was gonna eat you in the bathroom” kisses. Jk has them both very well trained.
Of course he’d tease her endlessly for that. “Maybe we should get you a pair of puppy ears for Halloween if you’re gonna listen to me the way that jk does” “yeah? I’ll get you a pair of kitty ears and tatto whiskers on you in your sleep” only what if one day yoongi reveals he actually does have whisker tattoos they’re just black light 😭
Only why don’t they kiss each other the way they give him good boy kisses 🥺 why don’t they cuddle each other like they cuddle him??? Why don’t they good hands the way they hold hands with him when he goes out so that they don’t get lost! Jk has to remedy this right away 😠 he can’t loose either of them ever again so he’s gotta set them up!!!
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axeoverblade · 10 months
Note
Could you do headcanons about Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, and Hobie having a tall and scary/intimidating s/o who is actually a big sweetheart? How they meet, first impressions, and dating stuff?? If that’s too much, no prob, alter it however you need to! :)
B. F. G
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ATSV! squad x gn! reader
Synopsis! Never judge a book by its cover
MASTERLIST
Genre: fluff
Warnings: none!
Word count: unavailable
Authors comment: BONUS:GWEN, super cute lol hope this is what you wanted enjoy <3
Do not copy! All rights reserved to ©axeoverblade
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ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ
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1610 MILES
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Bro is scared of nothing (think Simba from look king “I laugh in the face of danger”)
So when he sees you out on patrol, it throws him off that he became so on guard
You’re making the hairs on the back of his neck stand
Would never tell you this but at first you were gonna be a bad guy
So when you helped a lil kid cross the street and paid for them to get ice cream, he was a wee bit confused
Tailed you for a long time on different days, and always saw you doing good things .
So at first he develops a lil identity crush, not a romantic crush on you
Like he thinks it’s cool that you have this presence about you and it’s completely different from how you actually are
He meets you as spider man before as himself
You actually helped him, not a lot but enough where you interacted with him for a bit and he thanked you for helping
You just stopped a guy from stealing an older woman’s purse by tripping the thief and returning the purse
Miles saw it as you could be the next spider man
Suddenly you keep seeing spiderman all the time (totally by accident and not because he learned your routine)
Talk to him so often you develop nicknames for each other.
Been months since you’ve known him and he like is obsessed with you, full on in love and everything
So he decides to reveal who he is
Obv you accept him, give him a hug saying you won’t tell anyone
So now you guys hang out as friends
Casually flirts with you all the time (he’s trying so hard to make u like him even though u alr do)
Makes u meet his parents
miles forgot your looks don’t match your personality
HIS PARENTS ARE SO ON GUARD
His dad gave you that look
The one that screams “ stay away from my child and take your thuggish activities out this house” when you first walked in
kinda made you sad cause you thought they didn’t like you and you haven’t even talked to him yet
After they get to know you through the night his parents legit love you
Say how much of a good influence you must be on Miles and tell Miles to be more like you
Tell you to come by anytime
(They could easily tell miles likes you and vise versa but don’t say anything)
So Miles finally works up the balls to confess
Happy moments and a kiss
Overall good day
When your walking hand in hand down the sidewalk and keep getting weird stares because of the high contrast in your auras it confuses people
but then you and Miles both smile and its the same super big bright smile, people get why you’re together
HOBIE BROWN
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When he first saw you, standing as tall as him in the store with that “I’ll kill you if you come near me” energy he thought you would be an issue honestly
Thought you were cool but def though you were gonna try and fight anyone near you or something
He wasn’t in his suit cause he was washing it and was lowkey upset you caught him when he was just going to the store to restock his snacks instead of out on duty
But he was excited for what ever you were gonna do when you passed him because he wanted to fight today
“Accidentally” bumps into you to see how you respond
But when you smile at him sweetly, apologize, and keep it moving, bro is confused
Walks right back up to you and starts talking to you
Digs the inconsistency between your personality and your looks
Also digs just your looks
He thinks you're super attractive
Was quick to get with you, he knew he wanted you after that first convo at the store
You guys click so well aesthetically cause even though your brooding walking around and he looks all chill (and mischievous) like nothing can bother him, the way you two are holding hands with your thumb rubbing the back of each others palms is a dead give away you two are on the same page
Sometimes he sees you and is just like “you don’t match”
He never explains what he means by it but says it’s a good thing
Wasn’t scared at all to tell you he was spiderman
You two def go on swinging dates where he just takes you everywhere
Overall fun and happy times
PAVITR PRABHAKAR
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He was a little nervous when he first saw you
Not because of your energy but because he thought you didn’t like him
Like you looked like if anyone approached you, you would rip their head off
So maybe he was a wee bit scared of how you looked
But he knew better than to judge appearances. Bro is so intuitive that he doesn’t need a meesily appearance to tell him who you are on the inside
So he walks up to you and says hi
The big smile that graces your face makes him smile big too
Happy he followed his intuition to just approach you
At first you two are just good friends
Anytime you two are in public you get weird looks
Like what’s this jolly looking fellow doing with you
Then you laugh at his antics all happily and they get it
You actually confessed first
As “intuitive” as he was he didn’t notice your feelings
Doesn’t take him by surprise though
Oh my gosh he is so happy and pda-ing in public and everyone is like are you sure you two are supposed to be together
But then your face lights up with this look of joy every time you look at him and people have no choice but to mind their business
It’s a good thing opposites attract, even though personality wise you two are very similar
Really happy he approached you despite his fear otherwise he would’ve never met the love of his life
BONUS! GWEN STACY
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Gwen thought you were cool at first
Your height is what would’ve intimidated her not your aura
Like she isn’t scared or anything, just a little bit more on guard around you
she first met you at one of the band get together cause you were one of the band members friends
She didn’t want to judge on appearance though so she tries her best to keep her opinion about you to a minimum until she actually talked to you
Happy she did
saw you get up and get waters for everyone because “we should stay hydrated”
Thought it was cute how sweet you were
She approaches you and you two become friends quick
You two meet up regularly outside of band meets
Wouldn’t tell you that she found you super attractive (and vise versa)
Like not even looks, just you as a whole
Gives her scary dog privileges honestly
Likes yes she can one hundred percent defend herself and is more than capable
But no one even looks her way anymore when your with her
Made her happy to be left alone in the streets now
So you actually have to confess first
Sweetest confession ever got her flowers
She ofc says yes cause she had a crush on you too
You bake together all the time, even if one of you are good or bad; or both are good or bad at baking, you two are having fun
Meeting her dad was a given
At first he could’ve sworn you were a murderer
wasn’t feeling you at all
Then he had a convo with you and was like “oh okay I get it”
He loves how sweet you are and hopes you rub off on his daughter cause “she isn’t nice enough to him”
Happy relationship :)
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©axeoverblade
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itsghvstfvce · 11 months
Text
WHAT'S IN A NAME | PART 2
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pairing : tara carpenter x fem!reader
summary : you can keep running, but you can't run from who you are. | read part 1 here!
word count : 4.1k
warnings : scream vi spoilers but anika lives here bc she deserves better, violence stab stab stab, mentions of blood, swearing, reader is momentarily athletic, and as usual, shitty non-proofread writing lmao
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Tara drags you back to her apartment with Sam and the rest of her friends that evening.
As you expected, Sam was not on board with you staying with them since you were practically a stranger to everyone. But once she saw Tara beg with the cutest pout on her face, Sam knew there was nothing she could do. She did, however, stick to your side for the entirety of the trip home to ensure you don’t do anything funny which was pretty damn intimidating; after seeing what happened at the frat party, you knew better than to fuck with the older Carpenter. Tara, Mindy, and Chad all snickered at the obvious nervousness that was evident on your face despite your protests of not feeling nervous at all.
At the apartment, Chad and Mindy set the table for dinner while you and Tara prepare the food. The two of you steal quick glances at each other, smiling as you silently check each other out.
“So where’d you learn to cook?” Tara finishes chopping carrots then drops them in the pot and you start stirring, adding a variety of seasoning at the same time to enhance its flavour.
“Self-taught. Ever since I came to the city, I had to learn how to live on my own which meant learning how to cook.”
“Where’d you move from? Do you keep in touch with your parents?”
You halt your movements at the mention of your parents and Tara takes immediate notice of this.
“Sorry, I must have hit a nerve. You don’t need to answer, I get-”
“No, you’re good,” you place the ladle down to the side and face the younger Carpenter to give her your full attention.
“Most of my life I stayed in Cali. I decided to leave for college because I wanted to see what else the world had to offer.”
“And you thought New York was the best place to go?” Tara raises her eyebrow.
You chuckled at Tara’s remark, “well it did lead me to you so yeah, I think it was,” you didn’t mean to come off as flirtatious but it’s the truth. Running away and coming to New York allowed you to meet Tara, who is now all smiles and tries to fight the pink tint that was making its way onto her cheeks, causing you to smile too.
“And your parents?” Her smile fades slightly, knowing she may be treading in dangerous waters. You take a deep breath in before answering her.
“My parents are good people. I have nothing against them.”
“Then why do you get tense when I bring it up?”
“It’s just that we haven’t talked since I came here. I’m sure they didn’t want me to move out but I pushed for it anyway, so I’ve been hesitant to reach out; only because I don’t know if they’d want to talk to me after leaving them,” Tara takes notice in the way your breath hitches slightly, trying to hold back the tears from falling. You really missed your parents; you didn’t want to run away but you couldn’t handle the life you had at home.
Tara walks towards you and grabs your hand that was gripping the counter. You relax at her touch, and she leans her head into your chest.
“I’m sure they miss you as much as you miss them, Y/N. They’re your family and family is always going to be there when you need them to be, whether you like it or not,” Tara then takes a quick look at Sam who was placing extra pillows and blankets down for everyone and a small smile makes its way onto her face. “But just know that you don’t need to contact them right away. Do it when you feel ready.”
“I honestly don’t see that happening anytime soon, but I’m definitely thinking on it.”
She takes her head off your chest and looks at you, eyes darting between the both of yours and you find yourself getting lost in her dark brown orbs once again. But to your surprise, the shorter girl takes a step back, her gaze moving from your eyes to the ground and the hem of her shirt suddenly becomes more interesting.
“I think you should get out of the city, though. Like, the three of you I mean, I wouldn’t blame any of you if you wanted to go. We put you guys in a lot of danger and-”
“That’s very thoughtful of you Tara, but I don’t think I’m going anywhere,” she glances up from her shirt to meet your eyes again but the sudden sound of fake gagging catches the both of you off guard.
“Will you two just make out already?” Mindy complains while setting the cutlery on the table.
“Mindy that is so inappropriate, come on dude!” your face heats up at the embarrassment while Tara and Chad just laugh at the current scene in front of them. But the atmosphere immediately changes when Anika points out the news being reported - Sam was being accused for the killings that took place last year in Woodsboro and they claim she placed the blame on Richie and Amber. When Sam mutes the TV and marches to the dining table, you plant yourself beside Anika while Tara, Mindy, and Chad try to comfort the eldest, deciding that it wasn’t your business to meddle in right now.
“So you and Tara, huh?” Anika asks out of the blue, nudging your arm with her elbow.
“Nah, I think it’s way too early to be saying there’s anything between us.”
“But you like her, don’t you? I mean come on, you look at her the way Mindy and I look at each other.” You simply smile and shake your head. You knew what the truth was anyway and judging by the smile on your face, Anika probably knew the truth now too.
Then multiple phones start going off at once, including yours. Hesitant, you pull out the device from your sweater pocket, and once it’s unlocked, you’re greeted with a picture of Quinn being attacked by Ghostface in her room. First you whip your head towards her door, then turn to the four still sitting at the table before all of you get up and crowd in front of Quinn’s room, grabbing Tara by the arm and pulling her close to you to stop her from doing anything irrational.
The screaming and the banging suddenly stop. The silence is eerie. The six of you stand outside Quinn’s room waiting for any sound or sign of life.
You wait.
And wait.
And wait. Until Mindy finally breaks the silence.
“Run!”
The door opens and Ghostface shoves a butchered Quinn towards all of you. The corpse falls on top of Anika and she lets out a blood curdling scream, leaving you frozen in your spot. Chad grabs Tara and they sprint towards the exit, the younger Carpenter yelling for you to follow but the rest of you couldn’t. Ghostface was right in front of you, and if any of you tried running, he could tackle you immediately.
You’re still frozen. You want to move but your feet are stuck to the ground, and you feel helpless. But you finally gain control of your body when he comes forward and slashes Mindy in the arm. As Sam frantically looks for a knife and you apply pressure to Mindy’s arm, Anika tries to hold onto his legs to stop him from hurting Mindy any more, but it backfires when he wraps his hand around Anika’s neck. She visibly turns red and struggles to get him off of her, but it was no use; he's much stronger than she is. Ghostface effortlessly picks Anika up, hand still tight around her neck, and slams her right against the brick wall where he plunges and twists the knife right into her abdomen causing another scream to escape from her throat. He mercilessly sinks the knife even deeper into the girl, making her scream even louder than she already was.
You glance towards the kitchen to find Sam still trying to find any kind of weapon. Realizing she was taking too long, you release Mindy’s arm and rush towards Ghostface, grasping his shoulder and turning him to face you before swinging a right hook right to his face. With no other option, Sam grabs the knife block and knocks Ghostface in the head making him fall to the ground. You help Anika up while Sam assists Mindy, and the four of you run into Quinn’s bedroom. Meanwhile, Tara realizes none of you were behind her and yells at Chad to go back upstairs, but to her demise, the door was locked and she left her keys inside. She begins to panic, worried about what could happen to her sister, her friends, but most importantly, you. Chad wraps his arm around the girl and starts leading her down the stairs.
You plop Anika down beside Mindy and watch as Sam holds the door closed. The banging stops after a while, but Sam notices the bathroom door was open.
“Y/N, the bathroom door, hurry!” Sam whispers, and you rush to go close it.
“Oh fuck! That guy’s dead,” you cry out loud, frightened by the sight of a carved up man in a literal blood bath. Distracted, you nearly miss Ghostface at the door and you frantically try to shove him out of the bathroom, slamming the door onto him multiple times. He manages to plant his knife into your left shoulder, luckily missing your carotid artery due to the awkward angle. You scream out in pain but still push with all your might to get him out the door. Sam comes to your side to help you push, and when he’s finally outside, you lock the door and help Sam push the dresser to block it. Ghostface doesn’t stop banging and kicking the door so you lean against the dresser to add extra weight. In the corner of her eye, Sam catches sight of Danny in the neighbouring building and he brings out a ladder for the four of you to climb across. With no other choice, Sam reluctantly agrees with his plan.
“You guys go first, Y/N!”
“What? No! Somebody needs to hold the door, let Anika and Mindy go first, then I’ll be right behind you Sam. Go!”
Just as you instructed, you watch as the three of them slowly but safely make their way across the ladder. Once they were all in the safety of Danny’s apartment, they all cry out for you and you look at the door one last time before rushing to the window.
“Come on, Y/N! Slow and steady, you can do this!”
You were never really afraid of heights, but the thought of having to cross a very unstable ladder that was high up in the air just to escape a killer heightened your anxiety by tenfolds. You breathe in deeply before taking your first step, carefully shifting your body weight as needed to avoid making the ladder more than it needed to. The encouraging words that were once spilling from the audience standing at Danny’s window start to become less frequent and eventually stop all together, causing you to stop in your tracks. You look up at them for the first time and find all of them looking like deer caught in headlights.
“What?”
“Y/N, you have to move right now!” Mindy yells almost in desperation.
You turn your head and you find the familiar black and white mask managed to make it into Quinn’s bedroom. You’ve only made it just halfway across and with Ghostface now trying to throw you off the ladder, you tried to pick up your pace.
“Come on Y/N, you gotta move!” Sam yells as Mindy and Anika watch nervously, trying their best to help Danny weigh the ladder down and keep it stable. Despite their efforts, it becomes harder to keep yourself steady. Ghostface repeatedly tosses the ladder up and down and he eventually gets it to turn over on its side so it’s no longer parallel to the ground. Everyone who was watching scream and cry in horror, fearing you'd fall right off but you maintain a solid grip. You looked down and watched how your legs dangled in the air. Your hands were getting sweatier with each moment that passed by and Ghostface clearly wasn’t going to stop until he saw your body smothered on the ground beneath you.
“Y/N you can do this, we got you! Don’t look down!”
Their voices made you look up and you can see the desperation they had to keep you alive. Gathering all the energy you had left, you swing your body to give yourself momentum and cross the remainder of the ladder Tarzan style. You’re finally able to reach for Sam’s hand but you lose your grip on it when Ghostface gives the ladder one last toss, leaving you to hang on the ladder with one hand. The blood and sweat that was on your hand was making you slip more and more until you could no longer hold yourself up. As your hand releases the ladder, Sam, Mindy, and Anika scream at the sight of your body falling in the air. You curl yourself up in attempts to protect your head and break the fall using your left shoulder by making direct contact with the dumpster that was beneath you before rolling off of it and onto the ground. Your entire left shoulder, along with some of your ribs and God knows what other bones in your body, were definitely shattered from the impact and you also felt extremely light headed, but the important thing is you weren’t dead. You deliver that message to Ghostface when you catch him looking out the window, flipping him off with a smirk on your face as the three girls sob and breathe a sigh of relief.
You wake up on a stretcher just outside an ambulance to find Tara, Mindy, and Anika sitting in the back of the vehicle itself with its doors opened. You carefully try to move but pain shoots through your entire body like lightning. The younger Carpenter shoots her head in your direction when she sees you move and she’s quick to grab ahold of your hand.
“Y/N, you’re awake!”
“Hey there daredevil, how you holding up?” Mindy asks.
“I can’t lie, I'm pretty fucking high right now,” you smile and the three of them giggle.
“What you did back there was seriously insane. Like you wouldn’t believe her upper body strength, Tara! She deadass looked like Tarzan or something,” Anika explains excitedly, but it quickly dies down when Mindy starts to talk again.
“Okay but even though it was sort of impressive to watch, you’re still on my suspect list. That could’ve just been a little act to throw us off our tracks. We still don’t know a whole ton about you, other than the fact that you’re part monkey.”
“Hey, I’m no monkey, I'm a human being!” the amount of drugs in your system cause you to slightly slur your words. Mindy smirks and decides to use your woozy state against you all while Anika shoots her girlfriend a knowing smile.
“Hey Y/N, what do you think of Tara?”
“Mindy!” the girl in question protests.
“Tara? Oh golly, she’s an absolute gem!”
“Yeah? Think she’s pretty?”
“Pretty damn gorgeous if ya ask me!” Tara starts to blush at your honesty.
“Okay Mindy that’s enough, let Y/N re-”
“Chad..” Ethan emerges from the crowd and cautiously makes his way towards all of you, worried about the state of his friends at the moment. Chad, however, was unhappy to see his roommate and he slams Ethan against a car to question his whereabouts the previous night. Even after letting him go, Mindy doesn’t allow Ethan to step foot near you.
“Step the fuck back. You’re at the top of my list.”
“I had econ!”
“Ohhhh, econ!! What's econ?” you ask, clearly still in a drugged state.
-
You spend the day in the hospital trying to recover, immense pain still spreading through your body. But when Tara tells you about Gale getting attacked and their plan to try and catch Ghostface, you beg her to let you help out.
“Are you sure you want to be discharged now? You still have a long way to go before you’re anywhere near being fully healed,” the charge nurse asks as she hands you a few papers to sign.
“I wouldn’t do this if it weren’t important. There are lives on the line and I need to help out. Thanks for everything though.”
“Just be sure to take your meds and show up to those follow up appointments, young lady.”
You smile at the lady before making your way down to the hospital lobby where you meet Tara and everyone else.
“You look like absolute shit,” Chad teases.
“Yeah, well you try falling off a ladder then pretty boy” you retort, and he playfully lifts his arms up in surrender.
“Alright captain, where we headed?” you turn to Tara.
“I’ll explain everything along the way.”
“Wait, where’s Anika?”
“I told her it was best if she stayed out of it. She’s safe with her parents,” you nod your head in approval seeing as you definitely didn’t want to see more people getting hurt.
The seven of you travel through the streets of New York City until you’re met with the busy atmosphere of the subway stations. To what you were able to get from Tara’s explanation, there was a massive theatre that held Ghostface memorabilia from over the years, and you were going to try and lure him there so you could all attack him. Although some were protesting against the plan, you thought it was better than just standing around and waiting for his next attack.
The subways were particularly packed with commuters trying to make their way to the different Halloween parties being hosted all over the city. Almost everyone around you was wearing a costume so technically, you were the ones who stood out in the crowd. It was easy to get lost with the amount of people around, so you held onto Tara’s hand as tight as you could but you didn’t miss the glare burning into the back of your head from her sister.
Despite your efforts to stay with them, the number of people made it extremely difficult to keep up. Mindy trails behind you and calls out for Chad to wait up while you call out for Tara, but Danny and other civilians push their way onto the train to force you, Mindy, and Ethan to stay back on the platform and wait for the next one. You watch the train pass by before taking a look at Mindy who lets out a sigh of frustration. The two of you are startled by a hand that touches your shoulder which just turned out to be Ethan.
“Get your Ghostface ass away from us, Ghostface.”
“Wait, so you trust her but not me?”
“I saw Y/N fall off a ladder last night so I know where she was. I can't say the same for you, though.”
“I keep telling you guys I had econ!”
“Just keep your distance, Ghostface,” Mindy pulls you away from Ethan and you two walk further down the platform as you wait for the next train.
“Hey, did you notice his eye?” you ask Mindy while she tried to make him look away from the two of you.
“No, why? Did you see something?” she turns to you.
“It looked like it was starting to bruise. And if I’m not mistaken, I’m pretty sure I landed a right hook onto Ghostface last night. You think it’s a coincidence?”
“That’d be one hell of a coincidence. He definitely has to be Ghostface, I’m calling it right now. But you’re still not completely off the hook, got it buddy?” you give Mindy a tight lip smile and nod almost immediately, causing her to giggle at your nervous reaction.
-
The train ride was anything but pleasant. With the success of the Stab films, there were a number of Ghostface costumes on the train, causing you and Mindy to be on edge the entire time. Unfortunately, you and Mindy couldn’t stick close together due to the number of people separating you two, but you made sure to keep a close eye on her and to your surroundings.
But thanks to the flickering lights, it was hard to pay attention to your environment when you couldn’t see anything. You frantically turn your head in every direction to ensure you had every space covered and checking on Mindy if she was okay. When you turn your head to the left, you find a Ghostface mask who happened to be staring right at you. You want to think it’s just another random in a costume but the way he keeps his gaze fixed on you gives you the feeling it’s not just a random person.
Anxious, you try and make your way closer to Mindy so you could stay together but as soon as you started to move, he did too. There were a bunch of people in your way, leaving you no choice but to push through them and not even bothering to say sorry. At one point, the lights shut off and it takes a while for them to come back on. You continue your trek to Mindy but it’s no use because people were being bitches stubborn and wouldn’t move out of the way. You look back to see if Ghostface caught up to you, but you can’t make out anything in the dark. The lights finally come back on and Ghostface is nowhere to be seen, confirming your suspicions that it was most likely a stranger.
But when you turn back around to push your way through to Mindy, Ghostface is right in front of you. You attempt to scream but his hand is faster and immediately covers your mouth before pushing his knife right into your stomach. A muffled scream can’t be heard with how loud the train was and the people around you were, so you were left there to struggle and Mindy didn’t even know. He shoves the knife deeper into you and the two of you slowly fall to the ground, yet no one around you seemed to notice what was going on. Ghostface finally pulls the knife out and starts walking towards Mindy but you can’t get up to stop him. The announcer on the train comes on to indicate that the train will be arriving at the platform soon which catches him off guard, and you think he won’t have enough time to attack Mindy, but you were wrong. Ghostface quickly stabs Mindy approximately in the same area as he did with you before he makes a swift exit off the train. The two of you are clutching your stomachs, putting pressure to try and minimize some of the bleeding. Ethan notices both of you and immediately calls for help while he tries to drag both of you out of the train at the same time. He drops you by a nearby post where security guards gather and call for medical services.
“Are you guys okay?!”
“Yeah, we’re so good” Mindy’s sarcasm doesn’t fail to make an appearance despite being in pain.
“Goddammit. I got it wrong again! What the fuck?” she grunts in pain. You, on the other hand, start struggling to keep yourself awake. Your eyelids feel heavy and it’s becoming harder to breathe, the rest of your body feeling limp until your head crashes onto Mindy’s shoulder.
“Y/N, stay with me, come on!”
“I’m just gonna take a nap Min, don’t worry, I’ll be up in no time.” Mindy can feel her heart break hearing the nickname come from you for the first time. Her voice is the last thing you hear before finally letting your eyelids close themselves.
“Fuck this franchise.”
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a/n: hello again, reader >:) i'm giving y/n some of chad's armor plot bc let's bffr, anyone would die falling off a ladder like that lmfaooo anyway, thank you guys for all your patience! the next part will be the last one and you will finally get to know who y/n is :) hope u enjoyed!
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nyoomiin · 28 days
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roommates: part five.
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your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)
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pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader
tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure
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prev. masterlist. next.
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Breeze in the air, the sun on your face. A hand on your shoulder, and the whisper of your name. You turn around.
“Ah, it's you!” you say with delight. The word Kabukimono almost slips from your lips, but you hold it back, for it wasn't very much polite to address your dear customer that way. You knew that nickname of his had been circulating around town ever since his arrival, and while he never made any move to stop it, you've decided to avoid using that title entirely.
Your eyes flicker towards his outfit. He's wearing the things you made, you realise, pride bubbling in your gut. “How are the clothes? They look good on you — they make you look like an angel, y'know.”
He flushes. Pink creeps from his ears all the way down his neck, and why, wasn't that just the most adorable thing you've seen all day?
“Thank you,” he mutters bashfully, gaze trained on the ground. “They're very comfortable.”
He looked just like a doll, you find yourself thinking. You blink awake. Wait, who did? The name was right there, right on the tip of your tongue. 
Ki… no…?
No, it definitely wasn't kimono.
Ka… 
“Kabukimono!” you breathe out, jolting upright.
Was it an Inazuman name? It definitely sounded like one… How odd. Your dreams are certainly something.
“You’re back! How was your day?” you greet him cheerfully upon his return to the apartment. “I bought takeout for dinner, it’s on the table if you’re hungry.”
“No thanks.”
Oh well. Another day, then. You shrug, turning to leave. You had gotten some of your favourite dishes, and if he wasn’t going to have them, you sure as hell were. Maybe —
“Wait.”
You stop in your tracks, whipping back around much faster than you’d like to admit you did. What could he possibly have to say?
Silently, he stares at you, frowning ever so slightly. You return his gaze apprehensively, wondering if you should say something. Honestly, the silence was getting pretty awkward… You hold back a nervous laugh.
A second passes, then two. 
“Er,” you say. 
He harrumphs, taking something out of his pocket and shoving it into your hands. “This is only in return for before,” he hisses. “Don’t get the wrong idea.”
And he’s brushing past you before you even have the time to react, retreating to his room and locking the door with a decisive click.
“What the…”
You look down at the thing in your hands, pleasantly surprised. It’s an adorable little wooden carving of a bunny, nothing more than a paper weight and the kind you’d get from a gift shop — but it was the thought that counted, wasn’t it?
The grin that spreads across your face is utterly infectious. 
(The next morning, you catch him before he leaves. Which is odd, for you usually only rise after dawn.
“The bunny is so cute,” you gush. “Thank you, I love it.”
Pride settles in his heart. Of course you’d love it. After all, it was he who picked it out for you — and no one had known you better than him, once upon a time. 
“Is that all you held me back for?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. Was there a need to get up this early just for that?
You falter, eyes flickering to and from. “Well — I still haven’t learnt your name.”
“Call me whatever you like,” he says simply. “Go ahead, let me see what you can come up with.”
He knows that Nahida had taken a liking to that godforsaken nickname, and the Traveller had taken to calling him Wanderer. He wonders what you’d pick.
“C’mon now, you know my name. I wanna know yours!”
Would you believe him if he said that he no longer had a name? The villagers of Tataratsuna had called him the Kabukimono, and the Fatui had called him the Balladeer. The name he had bestowed upon himself out of spite had been Scaramouche, and before all of that, before all those names, he was simply the puppet. He swallows, and again, he can hear his heart in his ears.
Well, there was that one name…
Your gaze is heavy on his figure, and he knows you wouldn’t take anything but a name for an answer.
“Kunikuzushi,” he says roughly, the familiar word foreign on his lips,
“My name is Kunikuzushi.”)
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taglist. (send an ask to be added.)
@franaby @dragontammerz @ainnofinway @sketcheeee @briluvspnk @bunniicantsleep @featuredtofu @tragedy-of-commons @parkjayssi @xiaosantenna @idontevenknow129 @bfajax
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monodreamin · 5 months
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Rated: M (18+)
Genre: smut, fluff, one shot
Synopsis: after a bad break up you meet a handsome man in a dog park.  
Warnings: one ass smack, protected sex, cute nicknames and penetrative sex. 
Words: 3,049
Author’s note: I wanted to write something more soft and with autumn vibes. I just haven’t written in so long and wanted to put this out before winter. I mean it hasn’t snowed for me yet so I don't count it as winter yet lmao.
It was a cold crisp early autumn morning and you were walking your dog Jax, a Shiba Inu breed. Your ex boyfriend got you while on a trip to Japan. Your ex boyfriend left you with the dog he was yours anyway. The break up was a nasty one with your ex boyfriend. Ever made time with you he was either busy with work or hanging out with his loser friends you disliked so much.
Things weren’t always like this you once both loved each other very much after dating for 2 years decided to love in and build a life together you always wanted a dog so on a business trip to Japan your boyfriend got you Jax for your birthday you cried holding the small puppy in your arms the best birthday gift ever. 
Let’s be real, you felt like shit your boyfriend came over last night to pick up his stuff. He was moving in with his best friend, the one you hated because he was so far up your boyfriend’s ass honestly he should have dated him instead. 
When you and your ex boyfriend would get into heated fights  and he was anywhere nearby he was always picking a side and it was always his best friends of course even when he couldn’t be anymore wrong that was the bro code shit these men spoke of because it just didn’t make any sense to you. 
You were holding Jax's red leash as you entered the dog park. You could hear the fall leaves underneath your shoes crunch as you walked on the leaves that have fallen from the trees. 
You had a hand holding a hot coffee while the other held your dog’s leash tightly when suddenly a small black dog a mini pinscher breed it  jumped on top of your dog and it scared you a bit not knowing if they were playing or not you were paying to much attention to the two dogs in front of you that your hot coffee spilled all over your jeans. 
“FUCK” you yelled out feeling the coffeee seep through your pants burning your thigh. “I’m so sorry, is everything ok?” You heard a deep Aussie accent and as you looked up you saw the most beautiful man you ever came across. 
“Let me help you, I'm so sorry about that.” He rushed over with a stack of napkins handing them to you. You pressed the napkins to your thigh on the wet spot but your eyes never left his. 
“Lori come here” he lifted the dog up in his arms. Something about a man with a dog since your ex boyfriend wasn’t a dog person he just got you the dog because he thought it would keep you company and leave him be with his friends. 
“It’s ok I just got burned a bit by the coffee but I’ll be ok.” He opened his mouth in a gasp. 
“That is not ok let me make it up to you  I’ll get you a coffee. I’ll also get Lori here a new leash here since hers snapped. 
You watched the man be all lovey woth hos dog and it warned your heart instantly. “I can come with you if you don’t mind Jax here needs a new bowl.”
“Really? Well then let’s head over there now if you don’t mind” 
“So I know your dog’s name Lori and you know my dog Jax bit that is your name? My name is YN by the way.”
“My name is Christian I usually don’t let my dog loose I’m a responsible pet owner I promise but her leash unexpectedly broke and well she’s a playful dog and so when she saw the only other dog at the dog park she got a bit excited.”
“I see that it’s ok really.” You self consciously put a strand of your hair over your ear. 
“Well I’m a bit glad things happened the way they did I mean minus the hot coffee spilling on you.”
“So to the pet store then to the cafe to get my coffee? You owe me.” You joked.
“I’m a man of my word YN.” The both of you walked out the dog park making your way to the pet store. 
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Christian looked through the dog leashes and decided on a black one you could see him testing out its strength. 
“I’m sure you’re good with that one.” You teased walking toward another aisle full of all types of pet bowls they had: stainless steel, ceramic, plastic, double bowls, elevated dog bowls the list went on and on.  
“Having a hard time picking one?” It was now Christian’s turn to tease you. 
“Well it’s much harder than picking from leashes I’ll tell you that.” 
“Ppft I digress.” Christian picked up a stainless steel double bowl and walked to the counter. 
You followed behind him “you needed a bowl too?”
“No, since I saw you having a difficult time I picked one.”
“That was nice of you thanks.” 
You both walk out and this time Lori is on her leash. Christian is still holding the brown paper bag with the bowl in it. 
“So the next stop is the cafe?” 
“Yes the cafe it is but let’s do outdoor seating since we have the dogs with us.”
“I mean that makes a lot of sense to me.” Christian smiles. 
The both of you walk two blocks down from the pet store and there is the cafe.
“Two… or should I say an outdoor table for four since we have our furry friends.” Christian says and we are seated by an older woman outside. 
“Are you ready to order?” The cute older lady says. 
“One iced americano and….” He looks at you for your order. 
“Hot coffee light and sweet three sugars please.” 
“Ok and I’ll bring some treats for the furry friends too.” The lady leaves. 
“She’s nice.” You say. 
“I feel like dog people are usually nice people.” Christian looks under the table at the two dogs who are lying peacefully on the ground. 
“I think we tired them out today.” Christians head pops back up from underneath the table. 
“I mean we walked everywhere maybe that’s why.”
“So tell me about yourself, where do you work? Do you have a boyfriend?” 
“ I work in marketing and no I don't. I had one but not anymore. You?” 
“ I work in the arts so painting and sculptures mostly. I don’t have a girlfriend I haven’t in a year.” 
“Oh that sounds so cool and why not? You’re very good looking and with that accent I’m sure you have no problems.” 
 Christian laughs when the older lady returns this time with a tray and two drinks she places the drinks on the table and gives the dogs treats. 
“Enjoy the drinks, anything else I can get you?” 
“No, we're done for now thank you so much .” You say. You both are sipping from your hot drinks. 
“When you truly love someone and have your heart broken it takes time to heal.” Christian continues the conversation. 
“I get it well I just got out of a serious relationship “
The both of you continue to talk about life and other things. You looked at your phone and you have been at the cafe for an hour now. 
“I should get going now, you know shower from the coffee that spilled on me earlier.”
“Let’s exchange phone numbers.” So the both of you did and you were on your way “I’ll walk you home if you don’t mind” Christian still held on to the paper bag he was such a gentleman. 
You and Christian walk along with your dogs. “Ok well this is me right here thank you for walking with me.” You say as you stand in front of your apartment building. 
“Let’s stay in touch.” He simply says and with that Lori  leads the way. You watch him for a bit then head upstairs to your apartment with Jax. 
When you reach your apartment you use the key to open your door to your surprise you see your ex boyfriend on the couch. 
“What are you doing here?” You were highly annoyed by his presence. 
“I got the last of my stuff and to return the key.” 
“Ok well thanks I won’t live here long anyway.” 
“Why not? And where were you?” Why did he care about you and what you were doing? He just needed to be on his way. 
Jax stood in front of you very protectively. 
“What does it matter to you? We aren’t even dating anymore.” 
“Are you seeing someone else?”
“You have no right to ask me that it’s none of your business.” You raised your voice and Jax started to bark at him. 
How dare this man be back at your apartment without a heads up and he had the nerve to be jealous when you broke up with him 2 weeks ago. 
“If you aren’t seeing someone it would be a simple question to answer but you can’t because you’re with someone else already I know it just tell me.” 
“You are sick and twisted, you know that? It is none of your concern what I do, who I say or who I don’t see now, get out of my apartment right now.” 
Jax barks got louder and your ex boyfriend got up from the couch throwing the key over your head. What a dick and he just reassured you that breaking up with him was the right thing to do. You wouldn’t ever go back to that. 
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A month has passed since your break with your ex boyfriend and you had been texting Christian daily. It was cute flirty texts and getting to know each other better. Mostly you haven’t seen each other since the cafe date your break up felt so fresh you couldn’t move on just yet. 
You have been looking for new apartments because you thought moving from this old space you shared with your ex boyfriend would help in the moving on process. You reached out to a few realtors on some properties and waited for them to contact you for a viewing. 
You were getting ready for bed when Christian texted you again. You smiled as you read his text. He couldn't wait to see you tomorrow you replied and put your phone on the nightstand smiling to yourself you couldn’t wait to spend time with him again soon. 
You went to sleep and were awakened in the morning by your alarm clock. You hit the stop button getting up from your bed and you start to get ready for work where you will be counting down the minutes for when you’ll see Christian again. The day hasn’t even begun and you knew you would be dreading it. 
You finished your work for the day but acted as if you were busy with someone before you were given an extra task you didn’t want not today you had plans and you were excited for those plans you kept looking at the time hoping it would pass faster. 
It was 5:30 PM and you were clocking out. You had to rush to the train to get home to shower and get dressed for your… well not date you didn’t know what it was you and Christian haven’t discussed that yet and you both were just enjoying each other's company. Sometimes you would make out but before it got too intense, always stop yourself. You weren’t fully healed from your breakup and it didn’t feel right to have sex with another man in the apartment you once shared. 
Lucky you the train pulled up on the platform as soon as you finished climbing the stairs. You got on the train and saw a seat so you sat down. Today was your lucky day. Indeed, you checked your phone to see Christian had sent you a photo of him at his art studio. The man was gorgeous. He was so focused on his sculpture donning black frames to get a better look of his work. 
You almost missed your stop because you were  too enthralled with the photo. You grabbed your purse and rushed out before the doors could close. You had 3 blocks to walk before you were home to get ready and you were speed walking. You had a lot to do and you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You reach your building and let out a sigh of relief time to get pretty, you thought to yourself. You laid your clothes on the bed and stepped in the shower. You knew exactly what makeup and hair style you wanted. You got out the shower in your towel and started to prepare for… whatever this is. 
You took one last look at yourself in the mirror making sure everything was looking right then headed quickly out the door. You met up with Christian at the bowling alley and then after had sushi for dinner. You weren’t talkative and Christian seem to pick up on it. 
“Is everything alright?” He asked, popping some sushi into his mouth. 
“I’m sorry I’m so quiet, I'm just in my mind too much.”
“We’ll talk to me, what's on your mind right now darling?” 
Your heart thumped harder at the nickname. 
“Well…” you blushed, picking at your California roll with the chopsticks.
“Are you not into the date?”
There it goes he said it a date this is a date all your worries and headache went away with one simple word date you smiled 
“No, I love it and thanks for the date.” You drank the rest of the sake and started to eat and become more engaged with Christian now that he put your worries at ease. 
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The date was done and you both had a great time and decided to head back to your place. Jax eagerly greeted Christian since they have become very much acquainted. 
“Hey Jax, did you miss Y/N? I’m sorry I kept her from you but she’s here now.” 
Jax jumped on your lap and you started to scratch his head. The both of you sat on the couch talking and taking turns petting Jax.  After a while Jax was asleep and you put him on the couch next to you. 
“I bet Lori misses you too.”
“My mom is taking care of her now.”
“Really why?”
“I’m leaving this weekend I have an art show. I was wondering if you would like to attend with me?”
“Of course I’m sure my mom won’t mind dog sitting for me.”
Christian leaned over kissing you unexpectedly but you reacted by kissing him back. The both of you were all each other on the sofa. 
“Let’s take this to my bedroom.” You said leading the way. The both of you went straight to the bed clothes were being removed and thrown on the floor. 
The both of you were naked and you laid in the middle of the bed Christian’s hands caressing your body. Something caught Christian’s eyes on your nightstand and you quickly knew what it was your vibrator that you had used earlier in the day you forgot to put it away. 
“Oh babe I see you were having fun without me.” He grabbed the vibrator turning it on. 
“I think I’ll have more fun with you now.”  You spread your legs giving him access to you. Christian smirked as he pressed the vibrator over your clit. 
“Is that ok?” He moved the vibrator in a circular motion. 
“Put it higher.” You bit your lip watching him work the vibrator on you. 
“I think you need more than a vibrator.” He said and you looked down at him and saw his erected cock. 
“You’re right about that I’m tired of my hands and vibrator.” 
“Well I can be of some assistance to you.” Christian got his pants from the floor and went in his pants pockets pulling out a condom. 
“I know you can.” You watched as he put the condom on then picked up the vibrator again placing it back on your clit this time with higher speed. 
You moaned at the high speed vibrating perfectly against your clit. Soon after Christian entered you slowly as he kept the vibrator pressed against you , the sensation of him in you stretching his walls and the vibrator would have you cumming in no time. 
“That feels so good Christian oh my God.” You threw your head back moaning louder. Christian picked up the pace, his hips slamming against yours as he put the vibrator on the highest speed. 
Your body felt like an explosion of sensation, a wave of relaxation and peace taking over your entire body shortly after. You couldn’t believe how quickly you orgasmed . I mean he was hot and extremely talented in bed. You have been deprived by a man for so long your body responded quickly to his. 
“Darling I know you didn’t cum that quick did you?” A very cocky grin played on his lips. 
“I’m I’m I’m so sorry I…. I…” you sounded like a broken toy repeated itself. 
“Oh no it’s ok I’m not done with you just yet babe. Now lay face down for me.” You did as you were told and he smacked your ass. Your legs were straight and hips slightly raised off the bed. Christian entered you from behind. He felt bigger than before in this position. 
Christian stroked deeper in you as he nibbled on your ear then softly bit your shoulder and proceeded to your neck. 
The passion filled through your veins as his pace quickened. Your pussy pulsating in his cock adding even more pleasure you both were close to reaching your high. 
“Fuck I need to get on the pill again so you can fuck me raw.” You looked back at him as you both reached your climax and he pulled the condom out tying it up and threw it in the trash can. 
“Well luckily you are my girlfriend now and  we have a lot more time to do more of that on our trip.”  He grabbed your face kissing your lips and you both cuddled on the bed. 
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oftenwantedafton · 3 months
Text
A New Afton - Stepfather Steve Raglan/William Afton x Stepdaughter Reader
Chapter 4
Rating - Explicit
Warnings - sexual content, daddy kink, praise kink
Also available on AO3
taglist @yellowbunnydreams
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William turns the shower on, letting the water warm up for a bit before he steps inside. You follow and he draws your body underneath the hot spray. He feels your eyes tracing the springlock scars on his naked body, a kind of wonder in them. He takes his time lathering you up, smoothing suds all over you, moving more gently when he reaches the place between your thighs that his fingers and his mouth have claimed as his own.
He enjoys the feel of you tucked back against him, the way the curves of your bodies fit together, the way the flatter stretches slot neatly, the perfect balance between the diffences in your heights. He likes drinking the water that pulses on the space between your neck and shoulder. You taste fresh and clean and new.
Back outside the shower and he towels you dry and combs through your hair. Pampering you. Helping you ease into clean pajamas. Your brush your teeth and he watches you in the mirror.
“Want to sleep with me tonight, baby girl?”
You spit your used toothpaste in the sink and cup your hands beneath the faucet, rinsing until there is nothing left but the taste and scent of spearmint when he steals another kiss.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Afton folds his arms across his chest. “And I mean actually sleep. No more missing school. Okay?”
“Yes, Daddy.” So obedient. So easy to manipulate.
You really are an angel.
***
Steve strips the bed. You think it’s more for your sake than anything else. So you don’t think so much about who else normally shares this bed with him.
Now the lights are off and there is crisp cotton beneath you. Untainted. Only your bodies have christened this new space. The dryer sheet’s soft lavender fragrance reawakens when you move. You’re restless. You can’t get settled.
“Baby girl.” Your stepdad’s arm wraps around you and drags you against him. “Relax. I’ve got you.”
“I’m sorry. I’m trying, honestly. Will you talk to me for a little bit?”
“About what?” His fingers comb through your damp tresses and it soothes you instantly.
“How you got your scars.”
“You’re fascinated by them, aren’t you?” he murmurs beside your ear.
“Yes.” You know now exactly how far they extend after seeing Steve’s naked body in the shower. They cover his entire body from neck to ankles. You can’t make any sense of the patterns. You can’t fathom what would ever mark someone that way.
“It happened at the restaurant. Some of the animatronics are designed so a person can operate them from the inside. That means the internal components need to be separate from the individual. There are a lot of things inside an animatronic; a lot of mechanical and electronic components. The devices that keep them safe are called springlocks. As with anything, there are risks. There was a malfunction. The scars are the result of that failure.”
“Did it hurt? That’s a dumb question. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Yes, it hurt.”
“I’m sorry.” You don’t know what else to say.
“Sweet girl, it’s not your fault.”
You don’t like the thought of your stepfather being hurt. You stroke the hand that’s hugging you and realize he’s not wearing his wedding band.
“You’re not wearing your ring.”
“I don’t wear jewelry in the shower. Forgot to put it back on.”
You try to think if he’s had it on at all the last couple of days since your mother left for her trip. His hands all over you and no, there had never been a flash of gold even once.
“You haven’t been wearing it at all,” you persist.
“Would you rather I did?”
“No.”
The silence lengthens. “Do you like being with me?”
“Yes,” you answer truthfully. “I like being with you. I like you.”
A soft satisfied huff of breath. “Okay, Princess. I want you to close your eyes and go to sleep, okay?”
“Yes, Daddy.” You feel his lips press into your hair and you close your eyes.
***
You awaken to find your arm draped across Steve’s chest, your head tucked into his shoulder.
The room is still dark. Daybreak hasn’t yet arrived.
You listen to the rhythm of his breathing. A slow in and out. Still asleep.
You slowly move your arm, pushing the top sheet and comforter down as you go. Let your hand rest along his sternum. Fingers drifting down. Now on his abdomen. Easing a little lower. Elastic of the waistband beneath you. Your breath is held, listening to his. It’s changed. He’s awake. You gather your courage and stroke down and feel his cock stirring in response, pressing against the fabric, against your questing digits.
“Princess.”
You freeze.
“What are you doing to me?” He doesn’t sound upset. He’s just…you don’t know. Observing. Curious.
“I want to make you feel good.”
“Hmmm,” he murmurs drowsily. “You want to wrap those little hands around Daddy’s big cock?”
Immediate throbbing in your pussy. “Yes…”
“Well take it out then, baby girl.”
You prop yourself up and fumble with the fly of his pants and his boxer briefs, trying to extricate him. His cock slaps against your palm, the flesh searing hot. You wrap your left hand around it and stroke up and down uncertainly. There’s just so much of it. Thick and long and…it’s intimidating. You don’t know how it’s ever going to fit inside of you.
“Is it…I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admit quietly.
“Spend more time underneath. Roll your fingers over the head. Looser circle towards the bottom then tighter at the top. Here.” His hand covers yours, a shade less heated than the cock in your hand. He’s always so warm. He guides your movements. You feel stiff and awkward and try to force your hand to relax, to become limp and malleable. There’s moisture leaking from the tip and it glides over the ridged space where the curves meet underneath and Steve inhales sharply. “There you go, baby girl. You’re getting it.”
You feel the pulse in your sex. It’s so erotic touching your stepfather like this. You like pleasing him. You wish the room wasn’t quite so dark so you could see his cock better; watch the expressions on his features as you make him feel good.
“You should swap hands and lie back so I can touch you, too.”
His arm pillows your head as you comply, your right hand now on his cock. He shoves a hand inside your pajamas and panties and slides through the dewy slick between your lips. “So wet already, sweet girl. You like touching Daddy’s cock that much?”
“I love it.” You do. You absolutely love stroking your stepfather’s leaking cock. You love his fingers sliding through your pussy. You love every dirty thing you’ve done with him.
“Love, hmmm? You really love it?” His breath pants hotly against your hair.
“Yes, Daddy.” His fingers rub over your clit and you arch your hips, sending them back towards your entrance. “Inside me, Daddy, please.” It’s still sore and tender there but the ache of desire is so, so much more prevalent.
“You want me to fuck you with my finger?”
“Yes,” you gasp. You’re starting to find it difficult to focus on what your hand is doing, your attention shifting to his instead.
“You’re so tight, baby girl.” Pressure as his middle finger struggles to fit inside your canal. “How am I going to fit this big, fat cock inside there?”
You moan and writhe against him. It feels good today. Better than it had last night. You’re already getting used to it.
“Please, Daddy…”
He shifts, his upper body now angled above yours, still partly cradled beneath your head, his finger pistoning in and out. “You want it? Tell me.”
“Please…I want you to fuck me with your cock.”
“And then what? What if I came inside that sweet cunt of yours? Just filled your belly up. Bred my little girl. Would you like that, baby?”
You both know you’re on the pill. You don’t want to get pregnant and yet…the thought of it. The sound of it spilling from his lips…
“Yes, Daddy. I want your cum inside me.”
His panting mouth hovers near yours. You know you’ve gotten lazy with your strokes but it’s getting more and more difficult to focus when he’s talking such filth to you. Your pussy is soaked. Every time his hand shoves against you, there’s a sloppy, squelching, suctioning noise. Your pelvis grinds against him. You want him deeper; you want more. The familiar knotted feeling inside of you grows. His intruding finger crooks when it enters.
“Daddy…Daddy…Daddy…” Over and over and over. Your hand is sloppy loose over his cock as the knot inside you unwinds, spiraling free. His mouth finds yours, heavy and wet and gasping.
The arm supporting your head slides free as he moves over you, one knee and forearm bracing his weight just above you, the mattress creaking. He takes your hand and brings it back to his cock and you both stroke him together, fast and rough and tight.
He nips at your neck and your jaw and sucks your bottom lip. “You’re so good. So perfect for me.” You lift your head to capture his lips. “You’re going to make me cum all over you.” He moans against your throat and you feel the hot spray of semen splatter across your abdomen and chest.
A little thrill of triumph runs through you. You’ve done it. You’ve made your stepfather blow his load. Why was it so satisfying? You can’t help but grin.
You can see his features now, the room becoming gray as dawn approaches.
He studies you with those dark eyes of desire.
***
William sinks into the living room couch and sighs, loosening the knot of his tie and tugging it free. It had been a day. Exhausting. Amazing how many needy, incompetent people there are out there. Amazing how he has charmed and lied his way through that entire career, earning awards for things like Best Regional Social Worker 1998. If they only knew the truth. If they only knew what kind of counsel he kept after hours.
You appear from the kitchen and climb into his lap and he hums appreciatively. Suddenly things don’t seem quite as bleak. “How was your day, baby girl?”
“It was good. I got an A on my Biology project.” You pull off his glasses and tuck them into his shirt pocket. “How was yours?”
His hands cup your ass cheeks and stroke along your thighs. You’re still wearing your school uniform. “Hmmm…tu parles français, n’est çe pas? Comme ci, comme ça.”
“Oui. Je parle français un petit peu.” You grin at him.
“Très bien, ma petite fille.” He grins back at you.
“I’ve been taking it since junior high. I didn’t know you spoke French.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” he murmurs, a small secret smile curving his mouth.
“Like what?” Your fingers are laced on the back of his neck. You’re bolder today, he thinks. More confident after making him spill his seed all over you that morning. His cock twitches at the memory.
“What do you want to do tonight?” William smoothly evades your query by asking one of his own. “Besides that,” he says, seeing the hunger in your gaze. Intimacy is inevitable. Your further corruption awaits. But he’s going to edge for a little longer. “We should go out somewhere.”
“What about the restaurant? Is it close by?”
“The restaurant. Now that’s a brilliant idea. It’s on the other side of town. Twenty five minute drive probably. You wanna go?”
You nod.
“Okay. Let’s go to Freddy’s. Just give me a few minutes to shower and get changed.”
You slide off William’s lap with a sigh, and he heads into the bathroom. He hasn’t been back to his pizzeria for several weeks. A visit was long overdue.
Standing under the stream of water he feels some of the tension from the day leave his shoulders and spine. He imagines walking beside his stepdaughter in the darkened ruins of his business, the dust motes dancing on the slants of fading afternoon light that spill in through the windows.
He thinks of the yellow rabbit costume and his cock lurches again. Your legs clenching a stuffed animal between them. The larger version fucking into you, your legs wrapped around the fur and metal as he pounds into you. His fingers stroke over the head of his dick and he hisses in pleasure, the sound lost in the pulsing pressure of the shower water. Yes, you were going to meet the rabbit one day.
He’s suddenly impatient to be back to you, shutting the faucet off and toweling off quickly. He’s just finished tugging on jeans and a navy plaid button front shirt when you push the cracked door open the rest of the way.
“I’m almost ready.” He slides his wristwatch back into place, the stretchy band closing over the joint. A gift from you for Christmas last year. In truth probably picked out and paid for by his wife, but he’s ignoring that fact, just like he’s ignoring the wedding band that sits on a tray on the counter. “We’ll have to pick something up to eat on the way since there’s nothing in the kitchen at Freddy’s. Have a picnic maybe. I promise I’ll do better for dinner tomorrow. I’ll go shopping. Or we can go together. Okay?”
“It sounds fun.” You rest your back against the doorframe, looking up at him through your lashes. “Can we have steak?”
“We certainly can.” One hand sits on your waist. Your blouse is untucked.
“And baked potatoes?”
“Mmm-hmm.” He leans and kisses your neck and feels you shiver.
“And a salad.”
“Sure.” Another kiss. “And I’ll pick up some wine, too.”
“Are you going to get me drunk and have your way with me?” You bite your bottom lip.
“I don’t need to get you drunk for that.” He tugs on your ear lobe with his teeth, biting lightly.
“Are you sure you want to go out?”
He laughs softly, the hand at your waist stroking down to your hip. What a little vixen you were becoming, and it was only day three.
You drop to your knees, your hands trailing over William’s body as you descend. You look up and he looks down. You kiss the seam of his fly. His erection hasn’t gone unnoticed. Your breath is hot against him through the denim material. His fingers weave and knot gently in your hair.
The telephone rings.
William’s hand stills and drops. He feels you tense against him before rocking back to sit on your heels.
“It’s probably mom,” you say softly.
“It probably is,” your stepfather agrees.
“You’re not going to answer it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m busy,” he snaps impatiently.
You rise. The phone eventually goes silent, the mood clearly shifted.
“Do you even like my mom?” Your voice sounds so small in the sudden stillness.
He lifts your chin and stares into your eyes. “I like you. That’s what matters, right?”
You swallow loudly. “Yes, Daddy.”
“That my good girl. Let’s go, Princess.”
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mokulule · 1 year
Text
The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 6
Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5
Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence
Bruce sighed, absently feeling the air on his hands folded in front of his face. He stared unseeingly ahead. His frowned deeply, at a loss of what to do. Worry picked at his self control.
Something was up with Jason. Ever since the other night, something had happened between the thief and Jason. It had left him unsettled and off balance, that much was obvious. They’d all been able to see it.
Now, today, Jason had lost control. He’d been agitated of course, but Bruce hadn’t expected the outburst. Jason was usually good at managing his anger these days, at least in the family. He didn’t get physical with them anymore in anger. Except today Jason had suddenly pulled him up by the shirt, and Bruce had honestly expected him to punch him. Jason had shaken it off, but then he’d fled.
The urge to move, to do something, itched at him. He wanted to get answers, but confronting Jason was out of the question. Their truce was fragile, and it seemed every time he spoke to Jason he said the wrong thing. He didn’t know what to do except control the urge to go after his son. He couldn’t fight his demons for him. He could only try not to make it worse.
And so he sat there, staring, unseeing.
Dick’s footsteps, came down the stairs, easily recognizable: light and almost dancing to a rhythm only he could hear, skipping a step every now and then.
“Hey B, thought you were going golfing with the mayor, keeping up the old appearances and all that” he greeted brightly, as ever immune to Bruce’s mood. Or maybe Alfred sent him down to deal with him, that was also an option.
“Oh I love these,” Dick reached forward over Bruce’s shoulder to grab a protein bar from the backpack. He opened it and started to eat it without hesitation.
“Dick,” Bruce sighed, “this is evidence.”
Dick snorted and leaned on the console so he could look at Bruce. “You’re serious.”
Bruce raised an eyebrow.
Dick snorted again, of course Bruce was serious, then he pulled the backpack over and started rooting through it. Much to Bruce’s exasperation he opened another protein bar.
“Dick, they could be drugged.”
“As if you’d have let me take the first one if that was the case,” Dick mumbled around the mouthful of granola. Bruce mentally conceded the point.
“Anyways,” Dick swallowed and continued, reading the name tag on the inside of the backpack, “Danny Fenton, who’s that?”
Bruce sighed.
“The thief.”
“The Ghost!?” Dick looked up in excitement, “so we have a name now?”
“Presumably, it may not originally have been his backpack.”
“True, doesn’t help much either does it? Danny is very common and Fenton may not be Johnson, but it’s not exactly unique.”
“I haven’t looked it up yet.”
Dick narrowed his eyes.
“This has anything to do with why you’re brooding?”
Silence stretched between them, but Dick could be surprisingly patient when he wanted to. There was no point in dragging things out, it wasn’t a secret, Dick could easily find out through the surveillance if he wanted, Bruce would rather he didn’t.
“Jason was the one who delivered the backpack.”
“Ah.” There was the worried frown Bruce would have liked to avoid. He leaned down a bit to better face Bruce.
“You had a fight?” The question was posed carefully, softly, not betraying any inkling what he thought of that, in a way to gently pry the answer from Bruce, but Bruce knew his eldest son well enough to know he was already mentally running damage control options. That was Dick, always trying to keep their family together tooth and nail. There was a soft pang of appreciation in his chest he couldn’t articulate, instead he focused on the problem at hand.
“He’s convinced the thief needs help, I don’t actually disagree.”
Dick sat back in realization, his eyes flickered to the backpack and its sorry spoils.
“But he could still be working for someone,” Dick recited with a sigh, it was an old lesson. One he knew Jason wouldn’t have appreciated, not if he felt Bruce was dismissing his concerns. “B.”
“I know.”
Do you? Dick’s eyebrows asked, but he had the grace not to actually say it. He clapped Bruce on the shoulder instead, squeezing slightly.
“He’ll warm back up.”
“You think so?” He asked unable to look up at Dick.
“Hey,” Dick said brightly in a way that naturally drew attention to him, “we’ve come back from worse.” And there was that bright smile and that pang of appreciation was back, along with another warm feeling in his chest: hope.
“Well, I gotta get going, I’ve got work tomorrow. Just gotta grab a few more of these.”
And the feeling was gone.
“Dick.”
“We shouldn’t waste perfectly good food, B, also they’re W-Mark exclusives, they don’t have them in Blüdhaven.” He grinned, pockets stuffed with contraband. Invariably reminding Bruce of a younger version with pockets full of candy he’d been denied. Brat already knew he had won. Bruce waved him off with a sigh.
Dick practically skipped towards the stairs. Then he paused.
“Oh and B, if I was you, I’d check the phone at the bottom of the bag. It’s not a brand I recognize.”
With that he was off.
Bruce stared after him. Pride warred with annoyance. He’d been so absorbed in his thoughts he hadn’t even noticed Dick checking out the bag more thoroughly than the cursory look he himself had done when Jason had handed it to him.
He grabbed the bag and rooted around a bit, and just as Dick had said, there was a phone.
He pulled it out, and turned it over in his hands. It was made from dark blue plastic. The logo on the back, a stylized V in front of a globe, wasn’t one he recognized. It looked old and scuffed, had actual buttons and a jarringly small screen when you were used to modern smartphones.
It was also out of power.
With how old it looked, it was unlikely cordless charging was an option. He looked at the bottom edge where there was an actual mini headphone jack, along with what he assumed was the charging port - it wasn’t a type he recognized.
He frowned and got up. He wouldn’t be too late for his meeting with the mayor if he left now, not something he couldn’t brush off as eccentric forgetfulness at least.
He could drop the phone off at Tim’s on the way. Tim would get the phone working one way or another.
Oo o oO
Danny stayed underneath the pavement long after the not-ghost had left. The feeling of almost giving in was a crawling like ants underneath his skin. The threat of almost capture was like a noose around his neck - if they captured him, if they managed to contain him, he would never get home.
Eventually the bone deep tiredness of using his powers too much hit him, and he dragged himself back to his haunt, invisibly and intangibly, because he’d had much too much excitement today. He was raw and empty inside when he dropped onto his blanket pile and rolled up. He would get food some other day. Never mind that he was completely out. It wouldn’t end his existence, just weaken him. Ghosts at the core ran on willpower, and Danny wanted to go home.
A small squeak and rustle, had him opening his eyes a crack and turning his head to look to the far side of the room. There the rat was going his trash, the packaging probably still smelled like food.
He huffed and closed his eyes again. If he got truly desperate he could always eat the rat - It wouldn’t be the worst thing he’d eaten.
next
Masterpost for subscription
Sorry, it's not the longest part this time, but we got to appreciate a few other characters, yay! Hope you enjoyed, cause Danny sure isn't enjoying himself.
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Text
Truth or Drink-Colby Brock
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A/n: I just thought this would be fun to write because I honestly found the video super entertaining and funny.
-Samantha
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Your POV
I was in the living room with the boys cause Colby wanted to do a truth or drink video with Sam. I was mostly just waiting for them to set up the camera, and I was behind the camera since I'm reading the questions. Once The camera was rolling Sam started with...
" All right what's up guys my name is Jean and his name is Olive."
Colby was reaching for the camera and then when moving back he touched my knee. I blushed a little. Then Colby started his actual intro.
" What's up guys Colby Brock here, welcome back to my channel today. I'm gonna get demonetized because we haven't done a truth or drink in a long time."
While they were talking I was just looking at the questions and some of them made me let out a little giggle. Sam looked over before glancing back at Colby. " Can't show any brands here, but we got some brown liquid and we got some clear liquid. Both have 40 percent alcohol."
They looked right at each other before saying " Food coloring"
Colby then started showing off his merch and talking about their live show. " Let's get it." Colby said smiling
I smiled and got comfortable enough to start. " One more thing I forgot to add is I don't know if the young viewers know this out there, first of all viewer discretion is advised if you do not have the age of 21 do not drink. I don't know why I said that so weird." Colby stated
I was just admiring him because he was perfect. And I was just thinking about running my fingers through his hair. " Let's get to the first question, let's get it." Colby said. I sat up and looked at them and asked... " What's the worst doing the dirty experience you've had?"
They both looked shocked, which made me let out a little giggle. " The worst thing you experience while doing the dirty." Colby repeated while looking at Sam. " Well, last week my uh laundry was smelling really bad and so I put it in the washer and cleaned it." Sam explained
I let out a chuckle and shook my head at Sam. Colby stated... " I don't think we're talking about that dirt." " Oh." Sam said, leaning back on the couch. Colby asked " What's the worst sexual experience you've had. You can't say it online, online." I was just watching them to see if one of them would answer. " Are you gonna answer to you?" Colby looked down and said," Um, yeah I'm gonna answer this. Just one time, I had a female use a lot of teeth."
I cringed a little bit just thinking about that. " Minding my own business and a friend of mine barged in the door." Sam said, staring at Colby. Colby got confused..." Not me, why are you looking at me like that?" Sam then told him. " It was you dude."
I was laughing so much. I was scared I was ruining the video, but Colby just smiled. Once I was able to talk I asked Sam. " Do you think you have better style than Colby?"
He was explaining about it when Colby stated..." So you didn't answer the fucking question. That's what I'm getting at." He then let out a chuckle while Sam tried to explain himself. I then asked Colby. " Why do you post with girls on social media and then never tell the fans what's going on?" He had his eyes wide and let out a laugh. " Um, because sometimes I don't know what's going on all right. I'm just posting to post and maybe it turns into something, maybe not."  I couldn't keep a straight face with them trying not to laugh. They both had to take a shot from the lying question.
" Colby, why do you have a pair of handcuffs in your room?"
Sam was enjoying it too much. He turned to me and asked... " Does he ever use those on you Y/n." I just looked at him and got embarrassed which made both the boys laugh. Colby was getting a shot ready while saying. " You know what, I use them for personal fun." Sam looked into the camera and said..." What the fuck does that mean."
Colby was trying to explain. I was shaking my head and Sam said..." Judge says no." Colby looked at me. " What no." Sam just told him to drink while he said..." I've used them for sexual fun."
I put my thumbs up and Colby shouted out a yay.
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They both only had to drink one time and I knew I was going to get one of them out with this question. " Name two dirty kinks that you have?" I giggled at their faces.
" Sorry mom." Colby said
Sam stated, " Oh, you're gonna answer." Colby changed his mind and said..." I already said a kink, the handcuffs. So they already know one." They looked at me saying..." Does that count as one." I hummed in response. " Um, um I liked to be dominant. All right there we go."
I just shook my head at them trying not to blush. Colby saw and gave me a small smile. Sam didn't want to say it so he drank a shot.
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We were at the last two questions and both of them were super drunk already. " What's your biggest insecurity?" I asked them
Sam asked something which I missed, but it made Colby laugh. " Holy fuck, nobody's seen us like this before." I wanted to say something, but chose not to say it. Colby wanted to get real. He started whispering and then talked normally again.
" So the biggest now, I don't know, I feel like uh, it's more like a beforehand like if I was 20 or something like I feel like It was a lot about looks and now the insecurity lies in how I come across to other people with the way I speak."
When Colby admitted  to feeling dumb I got a little sad. I couldn't even pay attention to them talking anymore, but I was kind of listening, so I knew when I had to say the final question. " Last question everybody!" Colby shouted
" Want to take a shot for this last one." Sam asked
Colby gave the glasses a once over before saying..." Hell no." I smiled while reading the final question. " When was the last time you " did the dirty"?" I then smirked, waiting for them to answer. I know Colby's answer, but I doubt he will answer it. Colby and Sam both took a shot. I laughed and then Sam asked... " Judge Y/n, which one of us is more drunk do you think?"
I pointed to Colby and said..." Without a doubt." Colby was ending his video while I was stretching. They both then went to clean up, but I stopped them. " It's okay, I got it. Why don't you guys drink some water and rest."
Sam smiled and thanked me before heading for his room. Colby stayed a little longer. He looked right at me, he then grabbed my cheeks. "Thank you. We really don't deserve you Y/n/n." I smiled and pulled him into a comforting hug. We both then went our separate ways after we pulled away from the hug.
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I really hope this makes sense. This is my second time writing from one of their videos and it's difficult but I'm trying. I think this one turned out a little better. So please enjoy!
-Samantha  
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epinebleue · 7 months
Text
love me now (m) | 02
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(Gif credit)
in which you have to babysit your niece.
pairing: johnny suh x reader (female)
genre: established relationship!au, mature.
warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (reader’s on the pill), mention of post-partum depression.
chapter index
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Ever since your sister gave birth, she hasn’t known rest.
Witnessing her go through pregnancy, labor, and postpartum depression had been simply heartbreaking. She’s living proof that motherhood is indeed difficult: the bags under her eyes are very telling.
So, when her husband asks you to babysit your niece to take her on a trip for her birthday, you accept right away.
On a Friday at seven in the morning, your sister gets in the guest room. She wakes you up, telling you they’re already leaving. You get up slowly, trying not to wake Johnny up. Luckily for you, he’s a heavy sleeper.
Your brother-in-law leaves their suitcases by the door as your sister hands you the keys to their house, teary-eyed.
“I can’t believe I’m abandoning my baby.”
“You’re not abandoning her. It’s just four days, she’ll be okay. You’re the one who needs attention and love right now.”
Your sister ends up nodding because she really needs some time away from dirty diapers and baby talk. You tightly hug them both and watch them leave, wishing for a safe trip and closing the main door once they disappear in the elevator at the end of the hallway.
You tiptoe back to your room, noticing that Johnny changed his position while you were gone. He’s lying on his stomach, hugging the pillow. It gives you a great view of his muscular back.
The gym is surely paying off.
You slip back in bed, and upon sensing movement, Johnny rolls over. Something in your stomach turns when you hear his raspy voice, his breath fanning your neck, giving you goosebumps.
“They left?”
He holds your waist to pull you in, satisfied once your back touches his bare, warm chest. You hum and nod, finding comfort in his embrace. You close your eyes, ready to drift away for a few more hours, or until your niece decides it’s been enough.
Your boyfriend, however, has other plans.
You snap your eyes open when Johnny presses his boner against your ass.
“Oh my God, Johnny!” You chuckle, slapping the hand that is trying to sneak inside your pajama pants. “There’s a baby in the next room.”
“Then keep it low.”
“Are you serious right now?”
“What?”
Johnny successfully shoves his hand inside your pants on the second try.
“You’re unbelievable.”
He collects your arousal, clicking his tongue at the feeling. You squirm against his body, knowing that his morning voice has affected you more than you care to admit.
“And I haven’t even touched you.”
You can’t see him, but you know there’s a smile on his face as he teases your entrance with his fingers.
“You’re in no position to make fun of me.” You protest, pushing your hips back out of the blue.
“At least I’m not trying to hide it.”
“Shut up.”
Johnny pushes a finger into you, making you hold your breath and close your eyes. He doesn’t wait long before adding a second one, pulling them in and out slowly. It makes you move against them, craving more.
You try hard to be quiet, biting your lower lip to stop yourself from moaning too loudly, but your boyfriend’s fingers are so long and they stretch you so deliciously, reaching all the right places. He rubs himself against your ass again, as if fucking you from behind.
It’s no surprise that you moan louder than you should, forcing Johnny to put his free hand over your mouth.
He shushes you, his lips brushing your ear, voice so deep and low that he has you clenching around his fingers. “We don’t want to wake the baby.”
You’re a few pumps away from your orgasm, and judging by how Johnny moves his hips, he’s close as well. Something inside you tells you that you should be ashamed of coming so fast, but honestly, who cares? Finishing soon simply probes how skilled Johnny is, and how good he makes you feel.
But Johnny loves edging, so he pulls out his fingers last second. A protest dies in your throat the moment you feel him take off his clothes, ordering you to do the same. Of course, you comply immediately.
Your boyfriend gets on top of you, supporting his weight with his forearms to avoid crashing you. You kiss him desperately, lifting your hips, craving to be full again. And he seems to take the hint, grabbing his length and teasing your entrance before pushing into you.
Your arms find their way around his neck to bring him down and kiss him again as he moves, slowly. There’s something addictive in Johnny’s lips. They’re so soft, so warm. You could spend the rest of your lifetime kissing them.
You move your hips along the rhythm Johnny sets, feeling him go further. He muffles your moans with his mouth, swallowing each one of them.
Having been so close before, you know you won’t last long as your walls tighten around his length again. Hopefully, he won’t stop this time.
The pace quickens as Johnny fucks you into the mattress. You’re seconds away from your so-longed-for orgasm, the familiar knot in your stomach about to burst.
And then, you hear a cry in the distance.
Johnny pulls out in the blink of an eye, leaving an uncomfortable emptiness behind. Your high dissipates as you whine and lift the sheets, putting on your underwear and pants to run towards your niece’s bedroom.
Thick tears are falling down her chubby cheeks as she grips the edge of the cradle, her hair messy. Her hands go up the moment you appear, begging you to pick her up. You press her close to your chest, bouncing her little body and patting her back softly, comforting her.
You grab the plush red dragon that you bought when she was born from the toy trunk., shaking it in front of her face in hopes that it’ll make her stop crying. It works, so you give her the toy and walk back to the room, passing by the bathroom on the way, where Johnny’s washing his hands.
“She must be hungry.” You sit on the bed, sitting your niece in the center of the mattress. She plays with the toy, tears already gone, and makes a sound when Johnny enters the room. When he sits on the edge of the bed, she crawls on all fours in his direction. Johnny opens his arms and holds her when she gets to him.
Your niece loves Johnny, all children do; he’s like a kid magnet. You can’t help but think how an amazing father Johnny would be while you watch them play together. And how hot he looks when around kids.
Your maternal instinct has you drooling over him.
“Can you stop eating me with your eyes?” He says, a cocky smile on his face, holding the baby’s hands as she stands.
“I’m sorry.” There’s no sign of regret in your voice, though. “But you look really sexy right now.”
“Chill, woman. There’s a baby right here.”
“You didn’t care about that five minutes ago.”
Johnny’s too invested in playing with your niece to even think of a proper comeback, so you decide it’s time for breakfast. Johnny follows you to the kitchen, carrying your niece in his arms, giggling as he rubs his nose against hers.
Taking a look at the cabinets, you decide to make some coffee and toast. You set the coffee pot on the ceramic hob and wait for the water to boil.
In the meantime, you prepare some formula for your niece. You’ve seen your sister do it several times, so it comes out naturally. Johnny has sat your niece on her highchair, by his side. You give her the bottle, and she immediately shoves the nipple in her mouth, sucking.
Johnny looks at her in awe, caressing her soft hair.
“She’s so cute.” He says, speaking in a baby voice.
“I’m jealous.” You pout. “What about me?”
Johnny shrugs. “You’re okay, I guess.”
Johnny lets out a loud laugh at your open mouth. You turn around, deeply offended, but he grabs your wrist and pulls you closer to him. You try to fight him, even though you know that Johnny is stronger than you are. Your niece observes everything from her seat, drinking her milk, unbothered.
You spend the rest of the morning watching TV, playing with the baby, and Facetiming your sister.
Johnny will prepare lunch as you feed the baby. Your sister has told you what she has to eat, so you pick up a jar of baby food from the cupboard beside the fridge. Johnny notices your face of utter disgust, and it makes him laugh.
“What?”
“This looks awful, what the fuck?” A wave of guilt washes over your body. “How can this mashed green thing possibly taste good?”
You open it to smell it for a second before pulling it away, faking a gag.
“You’re so dramatic. I bet it’s not that bad.” Johnny takes the jar from you and copies your actions. He doesn’t gag, but by the way he frowns, you can tell that he thinks the same. “Right, I'll take it back.”
“I wonder what it tastes like.”
“Try it.” Johnny grabs a spoon and sinks the tip into the jar.
You shake your head, taking a step back when he approaches you, spoon up. 
“Absolutely not.”
“I’ll give you twenty bucks if you eat this.”
You laugh, half in disbelief, half in distress. “Are you trying to blackmail me for real?”
“Thirty.”
“John!”
“Come on, don’t be a coward.”
Johnny insists, bringing the spoon closer to your face, which you try to block with your hands.
“I’ll fucking fight you, Johnny, I swear!”
“I’d love to see you try.”
You open your mouth, about to defend yourself, and Johnny takes advantage of it to shove the spoon in your mouth. He runs away, laughing at how your face twists in disgust. 
How can your sister feed this to her daughter? How can your niece like it?
Johnny leaves the jar and the spoon on the kitchen countertop the moment you prepare to pounce on him.
“You’re a dead man.”
There’s a struggle as Johnny tries to stop you from twisting your nipples. The kitchen is filled with your niece’s giggles, who witnesses the scene from her highchair, shaking her baby teether.
In the afternoon, you go for a walk in the park. On your way, you stop to take pictures of every single tree you see, Johnny patiently waiting for you a few steps away, holding the handles of the baby’s cart.
Autumn has painted New York red, orange, and yellow; it has covered the streets with crunchy leaves, making it feel as if you were inside a rom-com.
Johnny has a blast playing with your niece, looking at her with adoring eyes. You lose count of how many pictures and videos you take of them.
Sitting on a park bench, observing them while you sip on your warm coffee, you realize that Johnny’s definitely the one. You’ve thought of it in the years you’ve been together, but you have never been so sure of it.
Better said, you’ve never been so sure of anything in your life.
The baby is in her crib now, sleeping soundly. With your fingers, you softly caress her cheek. Johnny joins you, hugging you from behind. He kisses the top of your head, and you melt in his arms, resting the back of your head against his chest.
“Look at her little hands.” You whisper, careful not to wake her up. “She’s adorable.”
“I know.”
“Have you ever thought about having kids?”
Johnny sighs deeply before answering, placing his chin on top of your head.
“The idea has crossed my mind, yeah.”
“With me, maybe?”
“You doubted it?” You don’t answer, knowing that Johnny has understood exactly what you meant with that question. Will you love me long enough to have my children? “I even have names in mind.”
His confession makes you turn around, the biggest smile on your face. You swallow the lump in your throat, aware that it would be weird if you started crying then and there.
“Really?” Johnny nods, his arms still around you, holding you close.
“Yeah.” He gives you a short, sweet kiss. “I’ll tell you when the time comes.”
You glance at your niece for the last time before leaving the room. You put your pajamas on and lie in bed. Your body, wasted from the tiring day, welcomes the warm feeling that being under the covers on a cold day gives.
You snuggle by Johnny’s side, his strong arm rounding you. His heartbeat sounds like a lullaby. 
“Sleep well, love.”
Johnny kisses your forehead. In return, you smirk.
“Good night, daddy.”
“Don’t.”
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© epinebleue 2023
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