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lettersofalover · 18 hours

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-> play no games | paige b.

paige b. x black!masc!fem!reader

genre: suggestive, flirty, back and forth

summary: when you entered the transfer portal, it was all anyone could talk about. when it came to the light that you were choosing paige’s rival, it somehow made her want you even more.

warnings: blood tw, mentions of vomiting, curse words, argumentative/tense moments

authors note: loosely edited & proof read - apologizes in advance and will be done soon :)

you took it in stride and found a rhythm in the middle of the third quarter, finally beginning to feel like yourself. your teammates were communicating and taking chances on possessions, creating more turnover opportunities and creating space for you to score. you called out to your teammate to watch for paige coming up from the middle as you recognized the play as it was unfolding. your teammate wasn’t paying attention so you ran towards paige yourself, hoping you could stop her before she went on a another hot streak. if she began scoring consistently, all the momentum would be lost.

in the midst of the play, someone knocked the ball out of her hands and it sent both of you diving to get possession of it. you were certain you had more space but you were wrong. you and paige collided with each other awkwardly, leaving you sprawled on your back and she fell on top of you. instinctively you caught her to keep her own head hitting the floor. you couldn’t help but wince at the force of her body weight flipping onto your own.

“fuck, man.” you choked out and the hot taste of blood filled your mouth. you either busted your lip completely took a chunk out of your cheek. you weren’t able to draw any conclusions as your focus was entirely on trying to catch the breath that had been knocked out of you and how paige’s body felt flushed against yours.

“oh god, i’m so sorry.” paige said weakly, pushing her self off of you. you thought she looked cute as she panicked and you gave a reassuring smile, which she caught but turned away from. you felt the familiar throbbing sensation begin creeping up the back of your head - a concussion. you’d been told too many times that since you suffered from two serious concussions back to back, that you had to be more careful. there was nothing careful about the way you played basketball. you weren’t reckless, you constantly argued. you were intentionally strong and defensive in your game - no one could get past you. it was what you got scouted to begin with and that wasn’t going to change - never changed for anyone.

paige couldn’t believe her eyes and she was actually embarrassed by the whole ordeal - it was an unfortunate and overly dramatic accident but it warranted the crowd to go absolute insane against you. it’s not her fault, she thought. paige felt unsettled as she scanned your face for a moment, unsure of what to do. you clearly took a rough fall. she found herself standing quickly to help you up, her eyes widened at the trickle of blood on streaming down your face and on your jersey. she was surprised that you took the hand she offered and pulled yourself off the ground. you locked your fingers over your head, titled it backwards and took in a gulp of air.

you bent over for a moment and looked up to find a disgruntled paige standing in front of you, not bearing any weight on her knee - her previous injured knee. she looked like she was going to vomit at any second.

“you need to sit down, right now.” you ordered, not giving her a chance to speak. you wrapped an arm around her midsection, slowly helping her to the floor. “put your head down and breathe.” she put her head between her knees and did as she was told but it was obvious there was still panic rising up into her chest.

“you’re okay, it’s going to be okay.” you calmly repeated. the referees called for a timeout and both teams’ trainers were half-way across the floor before the whistle was even finished. you didn’t leave her side even as the trainers surrounded her and began badgering her with questions - one trying to get you as well, but you brushed them off. you could feel her teammates crowding around to get a look paige. you ignored the murmurings from the other girls making slick comments and focused your attention on paige. she nodded yes or no to each question the trainer asked and before she could, she turned her head to look at you.

“you’re bleeding.” she said, just now noticing the blood trickling down you chin.

" 's ok." you assured her and you stroked her back tenderly to give her more comforting physical feeling to focus on. between the hisses of pain she let out when her trainer moved her leg and the scorching jolt of dizziness clouding you, you knew it was over for you both - you both were going to pulled from the game. you’d came to terms with your issues on your own time but now, all your focus, was on paige.

paige couldn’t think straight with the trainers talking to her, the aching pain in her knee, and you rubbing her back so gently. you were around her age, tatted, with the perfect balance of masculine and feminine and a voice so velvety smooth it put anyone in a trance and it had her in shambles. the feeling of you beside her and encouraging her was just as intense emotionally as it was physically. she had a crush on you. she always did.

then.

“i think she’s in for a rude awakening once she steps into this conference.”

“you know people’s attitudes and egos proceed them and i don’t doubt that she will warm up to people as time goes on.”

“she’s got the mentality of detroit pistons, the whole bad boys era, from the tattoos to her style. i love it. i mean when was the last time we saw a black girl, a woman, point blank period, be the type of player she is without forcing it?”

“she’s arrogant man, i don’t like it.” the final pundit said before the clip switched over to you sitting at a presser after you decided to enter the transfer portal. no one could really put a finger on what team you would join.

“what do you think of people saying that you aren’t as big of a threat as you portray yourself to be?”

“i don’t.”

“pardon?” the journalist asked.

“i don’t think of any of those girls at all. just here to play basketball.” your gaze was unwavering and it caused the journalist to ramble in clear discomfort.

“how do you feel about the recent media coverage where teams have said that you didn’t necessarily fit the likeness of their team?” the next journalist prodded.

“honestly, whether i play for them or against them - they can’t stop me from being myself.” you said with a straight face. paige’s heart thumped twice as hard and she propped herself up on her elbows to get a clearer view of the screen - as if that would change what she just heard. after that day, she checked your Instagram on a regular basis, hoping to get a glimpse of your heavily guarded life. she was too scared to follow you so she opted for looking at your socials from her personal, private account for friends and family.

now.

paige’s team followed her lead across the court back to the respective dressing rooms, crossing paths with the south carolina players. whereas everyone else intermingled and made small talk, kk and a player from your squad started to go at it. paige immediately came to kk’s defense which seemed to spark your interest. your demeanor changed from calm to deadly in a second - you weren’t aggressive as all the pundits made you out to be, but you were protective and threatening. you made good on your promises when it came to dealing with your teammates.

“yo, kk chill.” paige said and she pushed kk away gently. the last thing this game needed was technical fouls after such a disastrous first half. kk was jawing away at the other girl who was not being held back by you at all, but she as simply being blocked by your stance in front of her. you didn’t say a word but you locked eyes with paige as a warning, begging for kk to test her, to try it - but beneath the fierce gaze, you were silently pleading to her to get the situation under control.

once the situation was settled, you passed paige and you met her curious eyes and held her gaze making her cheeks flood with heat. she couldn’t help but drop her head to stare and the floor. she greeted a few fans and tried to shake it off the tense energy. you were following behind her on orders to go the uconn doctor and not you own. she let her curiosity get the best of her and her eyes went back to you - where you were a few steps behind, your eyes locked on her with blood still trickling down your face. there was a bit of it on your lip and you used your tattooed fingers to wipe at it, your eyes never leaving hers.

—

“i’m sorry about all that, out there.” paige had finally mustered up the nerve to say something to you. you say beside her on one of the rehab table. you were allowed to lay down so you sat upright with your head tilted back on the head rest, your eyes closed. you open your eyes and turned your head with confusion.

“stop apologizing, shit happens.” you said and returned to previous position.

“yeah but the fans were being assholes and kk, ugh, kk has this temper…” she began to over explain and you raised a hand to stop her.

“that just the game mamas,” you turned your head once more and smiled at her, “and I don’t know who you but I fucking hate when people play it safe. we aren’t here to look cute. we’re here to ball and i don’t mind a bit of physicality.” paige laughed at your statement.

“you ain’t minding it because you’re ass is strong as hell.” she countered and motioned to your body. “seriously how much do you lift?”

“how many days or what’s my pr?” you asked for clarification.

“see. that’s all i need to hear.” paige laughed and you laughed along with her.

“but seriously, don’t sweat it. you’re one of the best ballers out right now.”

“thanks, ‘ppreciate it.” she said with a small smile.

“i was about to light your ass up though. you got lucky.” you teased and you saw her blush but she countered back with a jab of her own.

“whatever you say mamas.” she teased back b

——

“how did the altercation with bueckers change the game?” the journalist asked, “was there any issues? everyone is curious about what happened when you guys went to the doctor.”

you cleared your throat and leaned back in your seat, your legs spread, moving in and out. a bad habit but it helped answer the badgering questions.

“everything was cool. there’s no issues.”

“what about the altercation?”

“there’s no reason to continue to bring it up.”

“the team seemed tense after you left the floor, they look to you for guidance due to being a transfer player who came from a different type of ball.”

“they weren’t tense. they were locked in, competitive. don’t discredit them with as if they can’t handle playing without me and i think paige can attest to this - we aren’t the only two people on these teams. they are more than capable of playing and winning. just like we did tonight and will continue to do when we play uconn.”

“what did you and paige discuss?”

“that stays between us.” you deadpanned and the journalist seemed to deflate. “but i will say that paige is one of my favorite players. i watched her a lot when i was in d3 before, she’s the kind of person you want in your life for more than just ball. she’s cool.”

—

twitter | x

paigefan1: am i tripping or did paige blush when the journalist mention what y/n said about her after the game

paigefan2: not blondie having a cruuuushhh

paigefan1: honestly how could she not, y/n is fine as hell

paigefan3: it’s giving enemies to lovers type shit

paigefan1: and she’s in her comments too 🤫

paigefan2: what? where?!

paigefan1: on y/n’s last post.

—

yn.official: my girls had to walk em like a dog, without me. never letting up, we going back to back 🤞🏽

southcarolinawbb: period

paigefan1: no, paige i really get it

paigefan2: hate south carolina but damn

teammate1: can’t touch you on their best day

teammate2: my favorite sushi without me

yn.official replied: you too busy for me these days

paigebueckers: we ready for you

yn.official replied: you not ready for me tho 🫢

paigefan3: oh paige is down BAD

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers blurb #uconn wbb

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leaawrites · 2 days

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Silence and Peace

Percy Jackson x fem!reader

Summary: Y/n doesn't like Percy very much, until one quiet night changes everything.

Warnings: use of Y/n, female reader, kinda suggestive, no specific cabin,

Wordcount: 1.8k

I'm back! If you have any requests or whatever, send them in! Though I might need a while to finish stuff right now :(

Btw, thinking of making a part 2 of this? What do you think?

Masterlist

In the quiet hours of Camp Half Blood, when all campers were asleep and nobody could disturb her peace, Y/n sat on the beach. Watching the waves crash against the shore longingly like they were her second home. She watched the ocean come and go. She watched the sand cover her feet and making her sink deeper every time a wave came to her. For her, that was freedom. Long hours of silence. A peace so immaculate nobody could blame her for it. Nobody could make her drown in agony in those moments.

Not even Percy Jackson, Son of Poseidon. The boy who watched her from afar one night and couldn’t look away ever since. He watched her helping other campers with a mesmerizing look in his eyes. One that screamed at everyone walking past, “that is gonna be my girl.”

And if she loved the ocean so much, she would love him the same, right? Wrong. She wasn’t his girl. She never even though about being his girl. He was always just Percy Jackson. The boy who bullied her for being older but still smaller than him. It wasn’t even that much of time between them. Seven months. Seven months was enough for him to make fun of her. Because Percy had no idea how to get a girls attention otherwise.

So that was his plan. Make her hate him if that was the only way for him to talk to her. Stupid boy.

Percy was stupid; you could ask about a dozen people and they would agree. He wasn’t dumb, but stupid. That kind of stupid that would get defeated by Annabeth after being distracted by a girl walking by. That kind of stupid that would stumble over his own feet when she approached him to complete her duties at camp. That kind of stupid that walked over to her one night and sat down next to her with nothing but static silence and the rapid sound of his heartbeat in his head. He was stupid in love.

“Why do you always watch the ocean but never go in?” He asked, scaring the girl and making her look at him wide eyed.

“I-” she began talking before shutting up. Every time she saw him, she prepared herself to get a snarky remark out of his mouth instead of a civil conversation. Though now he talked to her like a normal person. He talked to her like they were friends. “What are you doing here?”

Percy chuckled, averting his eyes from the moon towards her. Eyes sparkling, a kind of tiredness filling his face. “I don’t think you should be the one asking.”

It wasn’t meant mean. It wasn’t meant harmful in any way. However Y/n received enough comments with the same tone to roll her eyes and look away from him in annoyance. In her head, he wasn’t there to keep her company or even - dare I say - comfort. He was only there to annoy and tease her.

“Look, Percy, I was really enjoying my peace before you came, so maybe, would you be so kind, and leave me alone. Just this once. In the morning you can say whatever you wanna say to me, just not tonight,” she said, pulling her knees to her chest and letting her head rest on them, her voice tired and stifled.

Percy looked at the girl like she was going insane. Like somehow she murdered three people and wasn’t afraid for him to be the next. Which, Percy assumed, probably was one thought in her head at the moment. Even when he could never imagine her doing harm to anyone or anything. She was the smart, kind, classy girl in camp. The sweet, blooming field of flowers that everyone adored. Him included. He adored her.

“You know, when I’m seeking peace at night, I also visit the ocean,” he told her, making her look up at him. She was surprised he was still sat next to her, talking in tranquility. It felt foreign, yet normal in a fascinating sense to her. A person can be so different at night. Or was it only because he was at peace now? “Lately it felt like I visited a girl as well.”

It took her a moment, but then she understood what he meant. This wasn’t the first time he came here. It was, however, the first time he made himself known, which surprised her. When you think of Percy Jackson the first adjectives would be sarcastic, extroverted and brave not shy, calm and soft. At least not to her.

“You were watching me?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and, what Percy assumed to be disgust, but actually it was surprise. Y/n was surprised that he seemed interested in her.

“I also like to swim, but that wasn’t possible since you occupied the ocean’s attention for most of the time,” he told her, sighing in acted sadness.

Y/n laughed at his terrible performance, making him smile in return. “You should’ve just walked past. I would’ve been gone in a second if I knew it was you.”

Something in that sentence made Percy’s heart drop. Maybe it was the face that she would’ve been gone. Or maybe it was because she would’ve been gone because it was him. Anyway, something about it made him uncomfortable in his own skin.

“You also could’ve stayed,” he told her, not looking at her, missing the soft smile and tender look dancing in her eyes. “Bet you wouldn’t have minded seeing me without a shirt.” There it was. The comment she waited for, combined with the smirk she knew all too well. Percy was terrible at flirting and she wouldn’t have said what she eventually did if they hadn’t been all alone at this hour.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have.”

Percy’s mouth stood open with surprise, while she shrugged nonchalant and bit her lower lip to suppress a laugh that wanted to escape her so badly. The boy wasn’t used to her actually jump on the joke and tease him back, though he couldn’t deny that he somehow liked it.

After a moment of thinking, he took his chance. Pulling his shirt over his head and making his way towards the water, he turned to her with a smirk. “Well, if that’s the case.”

Y/n wanted to watch the beach, she came specifically to this place to do just that. Watch the waves and the shore and the sky and the moon. Though now her eyes were focusing on something else. She watched Percy dip in the water, breaking the surface, with such gentleness, she wanted him to touch her just the same. She watched him swim for a bit. Watched him look at her and act like he was being attacked to get a laugh out of her. His head sticking out of the water to watch her reaction. When he saw her enjoying his company for once, he smiled back. It was nice knowing to be the reason for one’s happiness. Especially someone you wanted to make happy every day.

As he came back, Y/n tried to keep her focus on the moon, only betraying her quest when Percy sat down next to her again. Shirt still laying next to him.

Percy turned his head, only in time to catch her eyes traveling over his now shivering body. The night air hitting his skin with discomfort.

“You should put your shirt back on or you’re gonna get sick,” she said, looking at him. Her eyes catching a water drop sliding down his face and following it. He ignored her comment but still put his shirt back on.

“When you said that you would’ve gone if I was to just walk past and into the water, was that only because of me or would you have gone if any other person would’ve been in my position?” He asked her, making her look away from him again. She didn’t answer though Percy knew the answer now. “You don’t like me very much.”

“It’s hard to like you, when you constantly try to embarrass me,” she said, finally. Finally she didn’t just walk past him, ignoring his comments like they weren’t meant for her. Though it was obvious to everyone.

“I’m not trying to embarrass you,” Percy admitted. Grover was right, he thought.

After he finally told someone about his crush on the girl, Grover was quick to educate him that that wasn’t the way to get a girlfriend. “I was just trying to get your attention,” he admitted quietly.

Y/n laughed at that, her hand over her mouth. “Why would you want my attention?” She asked him.

“What?” Percy didn’t understand how that seemed so impossible to the girl next to him.

“Percy, be serious. You couldn’t possibly want my attention so bad. I mean, why would you? You have the attention of all the girls, why mine?”

Percy had never been so mad at himself and at her too. He wanted to tell her that he was just joking. He wanted to tell her that he had no idea why he wanted her. But the truth was he knew. He laid awake enough nights asking himself the same question. Then again, he was mad at her for thinking that. He was mad again at her that she couldn’t see all what he saw in her in herself.

“I like you, okay? I really do. I like the way you talk kindly to everyone and I like your smile and your cleverness. I like that you’re always there for everyone and that you listen to me even though I’ve been horrible to you,” he told her it all. Everything that he thought about he told her. “I like your bubbly personality and how you can’t seem to stand normal after staying up for a moment. I like how messy you are and yet put together. I like your face and your eyes and you. I like you for how you are.”

“Well, Jackson, your strategy isn’t really good. I mean, teasing a girl to get her attention usually just works in books,” she told him.

Percy couldn’t believe it. He just poured her a cup of his heart and she decides to dump it into the ocean.

“But this is nice,” she eventually added. “I like this side of you. The quite and vulnerable one. The one who’s flirty and sarcastic in a lovable way. The one who fakes his death to make me laugh.”

“What does that mean now?” Maybe she didn’t dump it all in the ocean. Only a part of it. The part she didn’t like.

“It means that if you show me more of that side, I could eventually start liking you too. Would that be alright?” She asked hoping for a yes and a agreement from him.

She got more though. She got a relieved ‘yes’, a promise and a smiling and blushing boy.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy pjo #percy series #percy jackson #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #pjo imagine #pjo fandom #pjo series #pjo

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eli0004 · 1 day

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Long Distance with the AoT Men

Contains: Eren, Jean, Armin, Connie, Levi

Synopsis: what is it like to be in a long distance relationship with the AoT boys? Let’s find out 👇

Warnings: none really, pure fluff, gn!reader

Eren Yeager wants to sleep on FaceTime. Every. Single. Night. If you try to hang up he will sulk so bad, it’s ridiculous. He looks so insanely gorgeous when he’s sleeping though, so you wouldn’t dare complain. Eren has a whole goodnight routine too. You say you love him, he says he loves you more, and bitch you better say you love him most, or else. Eren is not the Eren he is in public when he’s sleepy and missing you from miles away. There’s a certain longing in his voice when he talks about your future together, when you talk about your plans to move in together and get to lay in each other’s arms. Sometimes he thinks about just quitting school, packing his shit and booking a one way flight to your city, but he knows how important it is to you that you’re both secure and ready for a move like that. Until then, he’ll save every penny and he’ll look forward to every opportunity to visit you.

Jean Kirstein watches movies with you. Jean is the type of guy that: A. Can’t sit still and do nothing, and B. Has probably seen every movie that exists in the world. He loves FaceTime dates where the two of you stream a movie together. Absolutely will go old school with it and start a movie at the exact same time, making sure to count down from three if there’s an interruption so you can pause at the same time too. Believes it’s mandatory to have pizza for a movie date. Always Orders himself pizza, and will door dash one to your place too😭 Mans looks so soft and comfy in bed, all clad in a warm hoodie, hood up, chewing on the strings. You can see the light from the screen flashing, illuminating his sleepy face. It’s those moments when the distance aches a little more, missing the feeling of being there snuggled up against his warm chest.

Armin Arlert just wants to lay there and look at you. If you’re gonna be in a long distance relationship with Armin, you must understand that he is a highly emotional, sappy, clingy guy. When his days are busy and his schedule is packed and he finds himself talking to you less, when you finally do have an hour or so to really sit and talk about things, those are the days when Armin struggles extra hard with long distance, and needs a lot of reassurance that you’re still happy with him, even though he can’t be there with you, especially when he knows there are plenty of other people who could be. More than likely, he spends a lot of your calls shedding intermittent tears, expressing his desire to snuggle up with you every time the thought crosses his mind. When he starts to get sleepy, his eyes droop and he lays his head on his pillow. He’s looking over every feature on your face, making sure to etch every minute detail into his memory for when he’s missing you the next day. He’ll fall asleep, doing just that.

Connie Springer just carries you around everywhere on FaceTime. He’ll go into the grocery store with you in his pocket, talking to you through his AirPods about what flavor of instant ramen he should buy. He sets you up on the counter while he cooks said ramen, so you can watch his chaotic ass burn a cup of noodles. Like eren, Connie probably wants to sleep on FaceTime, but he never remembers to put his phone on the charger so it dies at like 2 in the morning, and he’ll CALL YOU BACK just to be like “sorry babe, goodnight, i love you *snores*”. When Connie is in public, if you crack a joke while you’re in his pocket and he’s wearing his AirPods, he’ll laugh out loud, and you get the pleasure of overhearing people ask him what the fuck is so funny like they’re concerned for his mental health 😭 and he’ll play into that shit too, just to keep hearing your laugh.

Levi Ackerman doesn’t know how to just say he’s missing you, so he’ll call you periodically to ask what you’re doing and then just listen to you breathe for about 20 seconds on the other line after you answer. He visits you every weekend, even if you’re hours away, he will take public transportation for you if he has to, and that’s saying something because he knows how filthy those buses/trains are. Once every few months he’ll take a whole week off to come stay with you, and he’ll probably try to straighten up around your place, pick up your groceries, cook dinner for you, water your plants, in your own home 😭. Literally morphes into your lil househusband for the week, and you have to be like No? Go sit down you’re literally my guest. Distance doesn’t mean shit to Levi. Where there’s a will there’s a way, he believes. The definition of “if he wants to he will” because he will. Every time.

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mattybsgroupie · 12 hours

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late night rides | matt sturniolo

contents: making out; oral (m receiving); thigh riding (f); fingering (f receiving); use of “y/n”; lowkey sub!matt;

- ♡ -

notes: thank you for the overwhelming feedback on my first post! over 700 notes and 100 followers you guys are insane lol ♡ here’s something else, sweeter, sillier and more light-hearted than the other one. still no p in v tho cause virgin stupid inexperienced loser matt drives me insane - but i’ll make sure to bring it next time ;) maybe soft dom!matt? or a reeeally sub one with a mommy kink? let me know your thoughts!

- ♡ -

matt had finally found a spot to park after dropping his brothers off to a party we were not going to. i took my seatbelt off, getting comfortable to hang out with him for a couple of hours before picking them up again.

“fuck it” matt said and suddenly smashed his lips against mine, holding my face with both hands.

i melted into his touch. how could i not when feeling the pressure of the kiss growing bigger and his digits slowly caressing my cheek?

one of my hands traveled to the back of matt’s neck, fingers passing through his fluffy curls. he put his tongue out, licking my lips as a sign he wanted to do it the french way - i knew very well where this was gonna end.

matt’s hand reached to my waist, trying to bring me near to his chest, yet failing because of the distance between our seats. i couldn’t help myself from moving onto his lap, instinctively getting closer while he placed his free hand at the back of my head, playing with my hair and deepening the kiss.

my heart started beating faster and matt was breathing heavily - and he had to pull away to get some air back. our bodies, however, were still attached to each other. his forehead touched mine, keeping our faces together so i could see the trail of spit that connected our lips. as he calmed down, we hadn’t stopped staring at each other. i don’t think we could, even if we wanted to.

i missed him so much. it had been so long since the last time we were that intimate, that close, that needy.

and i was dripping wet.

i smashed my lips against his once again and he held me down by my hips before slowly brushing his digits against my ass, as if he was silently waiting for permission to touch me. my response was to move myself further to his crotch, which he understood as a “yes” and allowed himself to have fun groping my butt.

while our tongues would interlock and turn with the lewd, wet sounds taking over the darkened car, i found myself grinding over his bulge. i could feel matt growing hard under me as his grip tightened, leaving marks on my skin.

“matt” i was the one who gasped for air this time, looking at his chest and bringing my eyes down to where our parts met. he widened his blue orbs, as if he didn’t notice he had grown rock hard while kissing me.

“need you” he whispered in my ear. “fuck y/n- need you so bad”

“yeah?” i smiled, biting his ear back. “i can tell you missed me”, i joked while palming the boner over his jeans.

“this?” he pointed his index finger down, and i nodded. matt’s cheeks grew red, completely flustered “im gonna cream my pants in a few minutes if you keep on humping me like that” he laughed it off.

“you have always been my good boy, haven’t you matt?” i cooed, caressing his hair. i noticed how his look had shifted, his expression softening as i praised him. “gonna make me feel good first, hm?”

“yes” he whimpered. “yes, fuck i’ll be so good for you”

i removed my shirt, exposing my black lingerie to him. matt gasped, holding my hips tighter and adjusting himself “you’re so fucking hot”, he said while trying to untie my bra before looking at me with puppy eyes “can i? please?”

he couldn’t even wait for my breasts to be completely exposed, fully sticking his face against my skin. matt started to lick one of my nipples, making me whine at the sudden contact. his tongue would twirl around it while he massaged my other boob with his free hand, making sure both of them were getting enough attention. i unconsciously went back to grind over his bulge, trying to get some relief to my aching cunt.

“matt” i moaned, trying to catch my breath before asking him “haven’t i taught you how to use those fingers properly?”

“uhum, y-yes” he muffled, too busy sucking my nipple to say anything else. “then fucking use them”.

matt’s hands moved to my ass, pulling my sweatpants down without even asking. he started teasing the waistband of my panties, slowly scratching my skin and giving me goosebumps. he left a trail of love bites all the way up to my neck, and we couldn’t stop kissing anymore.

we were acting like two horny teens - my face was scratched from matt’s newly, but poorly shaved beard and i distracted myself while biting his neck, leaving a purple hickey that i knew he would jokingly be mad about the next morning.

after what felt way too long, matt’s fingers finally met my soaked underwear. he’d move his digits through the cloth, stopping by my clit and slowly circling it before coming back to my entrance. he managed to pull my panties aside, just enough to get two of his fingers to rub against my pussy.

matt looked at me, silently asking for permission to put a finger in. i nodded frantically - i needed him so bad.

his middle finger slowly entered my tight hole, making me clench against his hand. matt started pushing it in at a torturing pace, causing me to whimper and bite his shoulders to cover my moans. his thumb made it’s way back to my clit, applying pressure and rubbing it quickly. as i throbbed, he went further and put his other finger inside, filling me up completely.

as matt went back to my boobs, i would move my hips up and down to meet his digits, both of us completely covered in sweat. matt’s thrusts started to get faster and deeper while i humped myself against him, feeling the knot in my lower belly begging to be released.

my hands went to his hair, pulling it so hard matt let out a groan. my lips opened apart, loud moans filling the car as i got closer to the edge.

“let your good boy taste you” he said. “come in my fingers babe, please” was all that he needed to say for me to reach my orgasm, trembeling and leaking onto his hand, my body collapsing over his.

“gosh” i whined, gradually coming back to my senses. matt kissed my forehead and caressed my back before removing his fingers off me.

those blues eyes of his starred at mine as he placed both wet fingers on his tongue, teasing me as he licked all of it “you’re so fucking delicious”.

“we gotta stop doing that” i said jokingly.

“but- i behaved!” matt looked so confused, he had high hopes of getting a reward. “didn't even… make a mess in my pants” he shyly whispered, looking away.

how could i say no?

“you’ve been a good boy, so i'll let you choose. do you want my hands or my mouth?”

“mouth” he responded immediately, without even thinking. “please, wanna cum in your mouth”.

i pulled my pants up and got off his lap, crawling back to the passenger's seat. i couldn't help but smile at how desperate he looked, begging me to quickly unbutton his jeans. i teased him over his boxers, pumping his shaft over the cloth before freeing his hard cock.

i had completely forgotten.

matt was huge.

i slowly wrapped my fingers around his naked length and already could feel him twitching. “such a sensitive boy” i said before getting closer to the tip, giving it a kitten lick. “y/n, fuck” matt gasped.

my lips swallowed his tip, already wet with pre-cum, and i slowly made my way down matt’s cock, my free hand pumping what i couldn’t fit inside of my mouth. i could hear his small cries, asking me to go faster “ah- i’m getting close”.

matt’s hands finally got tired of gripping his own seat and were placed at the back of my hair, him trying to lead the pace as i bobbed my head up and down. matt was so sensitive his hips started bucking up, thrusting at the end of my throat and making me gag, saliva traveling down his cock. “wanna cum, p-please” he begged. it took him only two more thrusts to release on my tongue - without even warning me. matt’s legs were trembling and he had finally let go of my hair, breathing heavily as he came back from his high.

i swallowed his sticky spurt and showed him my tongue, making matt grunt in desperation before pulling me to another kiss. just when we had calmed down, slowing getting back in the mood, his phone started to ring, text messages sounds taking over the now silent car. matt complained and rolled his eyes back before checking “fuck’s sake, it's chris”.

i laughed at matt’s frustration and patted his thigh before he pulled his jeans up. “well, at least we had some fun” i said, giving him a peck on the cheek while he texted his brother back.

“no! i wanted to fuck you” he said blatantly, still writing.

“that's not how you talk to a lady!” i slapped his arm.

“you, a lady? sure” he blocked the screen, putting his cellphone in his pocket and starting the car. “so, same time next week?”

- ♡ -

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matt x y/n #sub!matt #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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marcsnuffy · 3 days

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I don't think that differently about Kaiser now

#maybe because I initially disliked him after all😭 I've come around to liking him as an antagonist more than anything #he's always been like this & I think my shock with this chapter was more about how I didn't want to assume the worst of him #but then it comes out and that's how he is so it's more of a “oh okay this is how you think”. Which yeah. Of course #I'm actually excited to see how the kaiser/isagi rivarly gets resolved. I'm concerned about how it will affect ness #I don't want him to get ignored by the story itself yknow? 😭😭😭 but he did get a flashback so i doubt it. still.#I want to admit that I kinda expected too much from Kaiser given how he acts now idek why #someone else said “what if Kaiser saw himself in Ness when they first met” but it makes sense that #he would never want to think abt himself as someone who needs help or is as isolated or easy to take advantage of as Ness (in his pov)#even though he was at some point (and arguably still is. some of those things)#so yea i do like that they have insanely twisted views of each other it's very interesting to me #<- i think saph-yells-into-the-void said something similar to that last tag #anyways...... your favorite guy disappointed u? couldnt be me💅 my favorite guys r would never do that to me💅💅💅#<being insufferable is my favorite bit. sorry #bllk spoilers

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delzinrowe · 11 hours

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Nightmares - Choso x Reader

⠀⠀✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ ⠀⠀⠀It's all a nightmare, and you can't wake up.

WORD COUNT: ~2.4K WARNINGS: Angst, hurt, much needed comfort. F!Reader. SUMMARY: Y/N didn’t want to close her eyes. Closing them meant seeing those god awful images again. [Spoiler for Chapter 259!] A/N: This is for all my fellow Choso girlies. Chapter 259 never happened. Stay strong. Stay delulu.

↺ home⠀⠀|◁ masterlist⠀⠀II hc/brainrots⠀⠀▷| kofi⠀⠀♡

One moment.

That was all it took. Just one moment of carelessness. One brief second of Inattentiveness. In the short time Choso had he acted on instinct, ignoring his fear and putting others above him like many times before.

All Y/N could do was stand by and watch, frozen by shock and panic as she witnessed the flames lashing out. Although it happened in the blink of an eye she could have sworn time fate pressed the slow-motion button. There was nothing left she could do.

Tears started to spill from her eyes uncontrollably, they went unnoticed by her. But she could hear someone scream, a gut-wrenching screech, that she didn’t realize came from her own throat.

“Choso!”, it was all she could come up with, all that was in her mind. The image burnt into her mind, preparing to haunt her in every waking moment of her uncertain future.

Red hot flames blazed up high, threatening to set even the air surrounding her on fire. It was only then that she took in the smell of burnt flesh. If there had been time she might have paid attention to the nauseating feeling it caused as her stomach churned.

All too soon Choso had completely vanished, leaving behind not only his little brother Yuji but also Y/N with a heavy broken heart. Her mind blanked, nothing could have ever prepared her for this.

Life as a sorcerer was hard enough, and she knew that there was a possibility of dying every single day, especially with the odds stacked so high against them. Yet, it never occurred to her that she would lose him of all people, in such a cruel way no less.

Him, who she had been suspicious of from the beginning. Him, who she always had her watchful eye on whenever he was around the younger students. Him, who she looked at with less concern with each passing day once she allowed herself to get to know him. Him, who elicited chuckles and laughs from her even when he said something awkward or nonsensical. Him, who opened up more and more to her when he decided to fully embrace his human side. Him, who for some reason kept reaching out to her whenever he wanted to learn more about being human, despite having his little brother Yuji. Him, who slowly made his way into her heart more and more with each passing day. Him, who she was too afraid to confess to…

In an instant everything went dark. A screech rang in her ears for what felt like an eternity. Y/N jolted awake, beads of sweat having formed on her forehead. Her wide open eyes scanned the room, as her body fought to control her ragged breathing.

After a little while her vision accustomed to the darkness, making out the shapes of the furniture. If she hadn’t been so shaken up by the visuals still in her mind she might have felt embarrassed about how long it took her to realize she was in her own bedroom.

However, even in the supposed safety of her own quarters, Y/N couldn’t compose herself. Heavy tears spilled from her blood shot eyes. The smell of burnt flesh, the heat of the flames, even the sight of scorched earth kept replaying in her mind, tormenting her furthermore. Having these moments played out in her dreams repeatedly, being tormented by nightmares night after night… It felt like a cruel joke.

“Well, there’s no point in sleeping now…” A deep sigh followed her mumbled words. Talking to oneself was normal, right? Or maybe she was on the road to going insane. After eventually leaving her bed, she walked into the bathroom to splash her face with some cold water. It was meant to help her wake up faster from her sleepy state whenever she was faced with a nightmare, and with time it had become somewhat of a routine.

She didn’t even spare one glance at her reflection in the mirror. It would only show the same thing: blood shot eyes adorned with dark rings.

Her feet dragged her out of the room. Was it possible for a person to act on autopilot for days on end? If so, it was her recently. She couldn’t tell you at what point she put on her jacket or shoes, or when exactly she reached for her keys and headed out.

Darkness still swallowed most of the surroundings. The moon’s small scythe barely illuminated anything, but in all fairness it was all pretty much a haze and a blur to Y/N anyway.

How long had she been walking? It could have been anything between ten minutes and an hour. She wouldn’t even be able to tell anymore. Much like a zombie she simply kept walking where her feet took her, they had a mind of their own at this point.

She didn’t want to close her eyes. Closing them meant seeing those god awful images again. If only she tried hard enough maybe she could keep them open forever? What a miserable kind of wishful thinking.

Before she knew it she stood in front of a door, the heavy knocking of her own hand seemingly ripping her out of her own trance. Almost aggressively she banged her fist against the wood, only stopping once she heard the shuffling steps behind it.

“Y/N? Wh–” She wouldn’t even let him finish the question, which she knew would only have the same answer as the many times before. Instead she took a step forward and wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her face in his shirt. Once more tears spilled from her eyes, staining the oversized shirt she had her face pressed against.

“You dreamt of it again, didn’t you?” His question was met with a squeeze of her hold as she tried to tighten it more, desperately clinging to his frame as if her entire life depended on it.

“Choso…” The single word she uttered was muffled, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She knew he’d understand it no matter what, just like he understood that she needed his embrace now more than ever. Quiet sobs followed soon after. Were her eyes hurting from the lack of sleep or the many tears she had cried recently. Perhaps it was both.

“I’m right here.” Choso spoke in a tone that was far more gentle and soft than usual. A tone that was reserved solely for her. It had taken him a while to learn different human customs, yet he knew exactly what to do whenever she wanted to hug him. Thus he instantly reciprocated by wrapping his own strong arms around her.

Learning about human behavior, traditions and customs wasn’t difficult for him, especially when she taught him. He was quick to understand that sometimes emotions needed to flow freely and all he could do was to offer comfort in whichever form he could.

“I can’t lose you.” Y/N kept mumbling her words, almost as if she wasn’t aware that he could actually hear them. It was a moment of vulnerability. Raw and unfiltered. The bare emotion she emitted was heavy yet beautiful.

“You won’t.”

Through the tears she scoffed at his words, barely pushing her head off his chest to shake it in disagreement.

“You don’t know that.” Despite talking to him Y/N didn’t face him. Perhaps she was too afraid of what he might think of her tear stained features. As if he hadn’t seen her weep many times before.

“Look at me.” It was astounding how soft and gentle his tone could be, and if she hadn’t been too busy being plagued by negative emotions she would have praised him for his remarkable empathy towards human sentiments.

But she did as he asked, haltingly lifting her gaze up. One look into his eyes and she nearly forgot the horrifying images that had awoken her earlier this night. For a cursed spirit he sure was enchanting. His presence had an uncannily peaceful aura but no one except Y/N seemed to take notice of it.

Choso glanced at her, he took in every single nuance of those glossy eyes that had shown him compassion and kindness when others had been wary and cautious. He had always been a fast learner and had soaked up everything she taught him about human traditions and emotions like a sponge. He was no stranger to the feelings she stirred up inside him, and he was sure that he caused the same kind of feelings inside her. Or, at least he hoped for it.

He almost forgot that he wanted to speak, all because of the way she looked at him, as if he was her life line. If it had been anyone else the silence might have been eerily uncomfortable, however with her it was everything but.

“I won’t lose me. I wouldn’t leave you alone.” It was a subconscious instinct to pull her tighter against him. For a brief moment he swore he saw the faintest hint of a smile flash on her lips but all too soon she buried her face in his shirt once more. Her weight shifted to lean more against him, perhaps because she felt safe in his embrace. How ironic to show your most vulnerable side and feel safest in the arms of a dangerous cursed spirit who happened to be your former enemy. None of it mattered anymore.

“I should head hom–”

“No. You’ll stay here. There’s no chance I will let you go home so you can experience the same nightmare again.” He didn’t let Y/N finish her sentence, he wouldn’t let her argue over it. The woman knew him well enough to be aware of his subtle stubborn nature.

Unbeknownst to Choso, her lips curled into a soft smile when he interjected her words. The dreadful feeling in her gut dissipated, making space for a happier sensation. She couldn’t explain their friendship properly. With the way the two behaved when they were alone she knew fully well that there was more between them, but speaking about it might disrupt what they had now. For the time being she was happy with how things were. Even if she knew that she should tell him about her feelings before it was too late. She couldn’t bear the thought of her nightmare turning into reality.

Minutes passed as the two still stood in the hallway, and neither of them said anything, simply letting the comfortable silence linger between them. Choso wasn’t sure how much time really passed, not that he actually cared about it. The only thing he cared about was getting Y/N into bed and making sure she could rest peacefully. Only when he heard her yawn against his chest did he decide to break the silence.

“You need to rest.” Admittedly, it was an obvious observation, but in his defense Choso wasn’t sure how to tell Y/N that she needed to sleep, and that he wouldn’t let her leave without at least a couple of hours of proper sleep.

“No, I just need you.” The female sorcerer slurred her words, it seemed quite evident that exhaustion was taking over her. Although she did fight against the oncoming sleep, it was futile. His warm embrace, paired with the way he gently reassured her lulled her into a feeling of safety.

The beating heart in his chest surely exposed his feelings, with her ear being so close to it he was convinced she’d hear it as clear as his voice.

“I’m here, and I’ll always be.” With more and more of her weight leaning into him he couldn’t drag her to the bed on her feet. Further exhausting her or risking her stumbling over her feet was the last thing he wanted.

Despite feeling uncertain of how to proceed, Choso knew he had to get her to bed. His only logical option was to carry her. He didn’t waste any time in picking up the young woman by hooking his arm underneath her knees and pulling her up to his chest. Instinctively Y/N’s head dropped onto his shoulder. The view of her like this nearly made the black haired’s knees give out. How he wished that he could simply tell her what he felt, but now wasn’t the right time. For now he needed to get her to bed and let her sleep without any disruptions.

Which is exactly what he did. Without further delay he carried her into his bedroom, as if she didn’t weigh anything to him at all. No thought went to it, it came easy to him as his physical strength was immaculate. However, once he stood in front of his bed he couldn’t find it in himself to set her down. An intense urge to keep holding her, to protect her and shield her overcame him.

“You’ll stay, right?” Y/N’s quiet words surprised him. Her closed eyes deceived him to think she had already been asleep, which made hearing her voice now unexpected.

“I’ll stay, of course.” Not a moment of hesitation as he reassured her. Nothing could have made Choso leave her side, especially not now. Eventually he gently placed her on the mattress, careful not to cause her any discomfort. Instead of taking his leave he kept his word and stayed with her, laying down next to her with his arms wrapped around her frame.

“Don’t leave, you promise…?” A smile tugged on the corner of the curse’s lips at just how exhausted and sleepy she sounded when she spoke. She fought hard to stay awake long enough to hear his reply. Although her efforts were in vain, before he could reply, sleep took a hold of her and engulfed her in darkness, albeit a soft and warm kind of darkness.

“I’ll never leave.” Meanwhile he struggled to fight his own urge. The urge to hold her tighter and kiss her forehead.

“I promise.”

Screw it. The urges won him over as Choso leaned closer to Y/N. Tenderly he pressed a kiss onto her forehead, which conveyed more emotions than any words he had ever spoken to her. Maybe he was a coward for not telling her about his feelings, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t know exactly what kind of shared love the two had developed even without verbally expressing it.

Choso glanced at her once more, taking in her still features and how her chest rose and set in a steady rhythm. How come this woman had so easily found her way into his heart?

Some day he would tell her. Some day she would respond that she reciprocated his feelings. Some day. But until then he’d be by her side even without words to speak.

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wolkoshka · 13 hours

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Paranormal II

summary: after your injury in the birthday party, Ghost takes you home, takes care of your wound - and finally gives you a night you’ll never forget… Simon Riley/Ghost x Reader

warnings: slow-burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, mutual pining, excessive drunk flirting, slightly dark!Simon, touch-starved Simon, trying to get into Simon’s pants (and sort of succeeding??), nsfw-themed

•this is a simon riley ficlet, I repeat, this is not a one-shot but contains a bit of plot and character development, bcs god knows we need 'em

•part 2/3

an: here is part ii, and yes, yes, I know! It’s long overdue. You’re gonna have to forgive a girlie and her lack of awareness to the passage of time.

"I said go get him, not split yer head open. Ooch, lassie, look at ye bruising up. That's an ugly one."

Johnny hassled over you, thumbing your temples as he examined your wound.

Ghost had temporarily dropped you at the bar to go hunting for a med kit. When your gaze had arrayed the room, your best friend had caught your eye, smirking - only to then gasp and push his way to you.

"So what happened?"

"Mating dance," you retorted dryly.

You pressed the glove back to the wound when Johnny released you, leaning against the counter in a snort.

"Did he fall for it?"

"Hardly." Your shoulders slumped defeatedly. "I don't think he likes me very much, Johnny."

"That's Lt for ye, lass. Guy wears a skull for a face. Says he sleeps soundly in it. Shudders, I tell ye. You'd think that'd make ye think twice before approaching him, eh?"

"I think my brain short-circuited precisely for those reasons. I think maybe this hit to the head will remedy that. God knows I need to get him out of my system. A full-on purge. Like those, uh, uh, really intense only-water-for-dinner kind of diets."

"It's hard to get someone ye don't know out of yer mind."

"Exactly! Jokes aside, this is insane even by drunk me standards. Never thought I'd have a crush at this age, but, whelp, here goes nothing! Will get him out of my mind as soon as I stop gawking at those muscles, okay?"

Your friend chuckled.

Over Soap's shoulder, you caught sight of Ghost's form paving way to you, broad shoulders squared, back straight and gait commanding. And yet, there was an almost endearing swagger to his stride, subtle as it was, and it only added to the unmistakable confidence simmering underneath that quiet outfit.

Suddenly, you were air-headed. In the manner people jumped out of his path like he was the most lethal being they'd ever beheld had you seeing rainbows and hearing angelic hymns.

A stupid girl with her big, stupid crush. When was the last time you got one, anyway? High school, that's when. And you felt like a silly schoolgirl again, all those eighth grade magazines on how to talk to boys and attract your crush flooding back.

You wondered what three-way advice they would spell out for someone like Ghost.

Bathe in the blood of his enemies. A sexy look can go a long way!

Rip out the heart of his enemy and gift it to him. All men enjoy a sincere show of affection every now and then!

Take a bullet for him. Take several! Nothing says I have the hots for you like bleeding out in the arms of your crush!

When his eyes found yours, uncompromising and intense even from such distance, the choir increased until you felt like your chest might implode.

"Never mind," you dreamily sighed. This particular crush wasn't leaving anytime soon.

"Johnny," Ghost voiced, coming around the man. To you, he crooked a finger. "They got band-aids, but I need to stitch you up. We'll resolve the matter in your place."

Your head perked. "We will?"

Was your night actually going to end with Ghost in your apartment? Maybe even bed?

You looked at Johnny, Johnny looked at you - and you both raised your eyebrows in a knowing look.

"What the bloody hell you two peepin' at each other for?" Ghost growled.

"Peepin'? What's peepin'?" Johnny.

"We're not peepin'." You.

Eager, you hopped down - and immediately regretted it when your vision swayed. Whoops... You clutched your head tighter.

"Easy there," Johnny voiced, hands supporting your shoulders.

Once you righted, you looked up at Ghost. Expectant. Would he carry you?

You kind of, sort of, definitely desired his arms around you again.

As if seeing right through your needs, the muscle below his eye twitched. He set a challenge with his gaze, forcing you to admit defeat and walk a soldier's walk.

You faintly winced. Shrugged. "Owh, my poor head. I feel...dizzy. So dizzy. Don't know...might even trip in the rain. Get a concussion..." Another meek yet daring shrug. "So inconvenient, no?"

"Maybe ye need to go the hospital, lass - Umpf!"

You shut Johnny up with a backward punch to the groin, attention never wavering from Ghost.

There was a soft inquisitive sound, an arch of your brow, before he conceded with a weary blink of his eyes. You had to love the way his lashes fanned every time he did that. Long, thick, and softly curled, they might just make a girl jealous.

Internally, you performed a victory dance. Externally, you outstretched an arm.

His killer biceps bulged around your frame, tugging you close, as he lifted you off your feet. When you corded your arm around his neck and nestled your face on his pec, lashes batting up at him, Ghost looked like he was near to dropping you on your arse and dragging you by your heels instead.

"Don't get used to it, poppy," he grated low.

You wore a look of mock-surprise. "Never."

Gaze too slow to leave your face he spoke to Johnny next, "I'll meet you at the base." He strode past, strong legs falling into pace. "Don't be late. And for fuck's sake, Johnny, get some rest."

Johnny grinned, the act slightly laced with pain due to your earlier assault. "Ye got it, Lt." To you, he gave you a proud thumb's up.

Over Ghost's shoulder, you blew him a kiss and mouthed happy birthday, and I love you big time, you sucker.

When the bar door closed behind you, you pointed out to Simon that he'd forgotten your umbrella and proton pack.

For the umbrella, he said the rain might help sober you up. As for your proton pack, he didn't even bother providing an answer as he took down the street, all pleased with himself as rain mercilessly pelted your face.

When lightning crackled and thunder roared overhead, you thought you felt his arms slightly draw you closer, a bit nearer, but dismissed it, blaming it instead on your active imagination and stupor.

What the bloody hell was he doing, Ghost questioned, standing in your open kitchen and preparing tea for two.

Steam curdled up, obscuring his masked face as he poured green tea into two cups. Clasping the handles, he turned from the counter to place them on the marbled island.

Your abode was a spacious loft with four large windows peering out into the bustling city, the London Eye and the River Thames a distant view, with a ceiling that rose six meters high.

Before him was a sitting area with a comfortable couch, plush armchairs and a TV stand. Fully-stacked bookshelves flanked either side while pots of myriad flowers and wild ferns decorated the space.

A dining table perched to his left, a family photo and Mesopotamian antiques lining the dark cherry wood surface in display. He spotted Johnny in the frame, younger than he's ever seen him, dimples deep in a cheery smile, and he spotted you, hanging onto his shoulders with an eye-crinkling laugh of your own, also young and exuding innocence.

To his far right was your bed, propped against the wall and neatly made, accompanied by nightstands and a reading lamp. To its left was the entrance, separated by a narrow wall of stained glass depicting two mermaids frolicking about. By that, he clearly meant the large cock sprouting from the merman's groin and gripped by the mermaid's slender fingers, their tails entwining as deeply as their tongues, their bodies writhing in unabashed pleasure. It was beautiful, no doubt, made to come alive in colors coral blue, golden, and violet, but Ghost also knew it was custom made.

Anyone would've missed the unorthodox tableau at first glance, but he wasn't anyone.

You had wild fantasies, it appeared, and he wanted to bash his skull in for taking interest in that.

Just like he wanted to bash the mug of green tea in his hand because he couldn't will his feet to walk away.

Granted, you'd asked he stay, at least for a little while, to thank him for taking care of your wound, and sprinting to your bathroom thereafter for a quick shower.

It's been ten minutes now, and Ghost should've been long gone. He couldn't be here. He didn't do one-night stands. He had a number for that, a special visitor, that took care of his needs without him ever needing to undress. Left just as wordlessly when the deed was done. No unnecessary pillow talks, goodbye notes, or call me laters. No strings attached, just as Ghost preferred it.

But you...

The way you wanted him, the way you watched him, eyes growing dark and heavy with desire, it made him realize he'd never been pursued that ardently. Sure, he had instances where he attracted certain women his direction - any bloke with a look like his warranted that - but a simple glower from him had them scurrying off just as quick.

He should be scaring you off too, not exciting you.

Not making you out to be an intoxication he was uncharacteristically impatient to divulge in.

Hell, with his given background and formidable expertise, no one even dared to hold his gaze for longer than three seconds. When he talked, everyone shut up. His reputation preceded him. Yet you... Bloody hell, you not only held your ground, but also eye-fucked him every chance you got.

Ghost didn't quite compute; you were a perfect stranger to him, someone he met but once, and yet you had a face that could make a man happily dream into an early death.

God, there was something about you that made his palms itch for a touch...itch to wrap that hair of yours around his fist, lift his mask, and descend for a proper feeding. A sick, twisted part of Ghost perhaps wanted to see how good you could get him to pillow talk.

It was a passing thought, but chills abraded his forearms. The challenge in it gave him a heated rush of red.

What the hell was the matter with him? he questioned for the umpteenth time.

He shouldn't be wanting such nonsense.

He shouldn't be caring for it either.

He should walk away now. But...

The moment he chose to act, turning, the exit his target, the shower stopped running. The naked pad of footsteps resounded. A towel flapped open. More footsteps, and then -

You emerged from the bathroom, all robed and clean, leaving steam in your wake. It looked like you'd just walked out of a dream, cherub cheeks flushed pink and skin dewy, almost satiny, and - fuck. He internally groaned. He wanted to bite.

What in nine hells? He popped his jaw in frustration.

Upon spotting him, excitement flashed in your eyes, and you nearly skipped over.

"You stayed," you breathily commented, the towel you were using to dry your hair tossed atop the dining table. Traces of vanilla and coconut saturated the air, infiltrating his mask, and his mouth involuntarily watered.

He needed to call that special number tonight, he decreed, or else he wouldn't survive the coming days. Days? More like hour. Keep it together, soldier.

Such unpalatable delight seeped from you, he slowly shook his head.

If only you knew he sewed another man's skull on his mask, beaten to a pulp before stripped clean of all tissue. A constant reminder of what he’d lost. Who he'd lost. If only you knew he viewed the outside world from the eyes of a dead man. If only you knew poison swam in his veins, immortalizing the infectious ichor that damned any soul to near him. Touch him. You would flee the other direction.

You would curse at him, curse him, see him for what he truly was.

A rotting corpse unleashed to the world to haunt. To terrorize.

Would you crave him then, knowing those very hands you wanted wrapped around you had ended lives, and most not so humanely?

He wasn't capable of holding you without hurting you.

Anything good and decent in him had long ago been buried away, and in their stead festered rancid tendencies that worked his mind and body tireless.

Nothing survived him, and you would be no different.

Even tonight, his somber mood a result of the death toll that ripped through his heart, deadened as it was, when he heard - witnessed - the scream of little children blown to pieces by a human bomber he was meant to stop, was no coincidence.

His main objective was to retrieve classified documents, but it had come at a cost when the enemy understood they were compromised.

He had done a bloody good job clearing the entire building, knives soaked crimson, fists even more so, but he'd forgone the basement, a bunker where bombers kept their own hostage. It was a gruesome tactic the enemy utilized to throw their foes off balance. He had a moment's decision before the bomber pressed the button - shoot him with the off-chance of saving the children, get obliterated to pieces and fail the mission, or succeed.

It was either them or the classified intel. He’d ducked for cover.

Choices have consequences, he remembered telling Johnny once, and, fuck, if he didn't hate himself for his.

He tasted the sulfur, the clogging dust saturated with human remains, in the back of his throat. He couldn't wipe those deaths from his eyes no matter how many times he bathed, scrubbed, scraped.

So, no matter you being a perfect stranger, feeding him look upon look of insatiable hunger any man would gladly sacrifice a limb for, he couldn't go down that road.

Especially when you meant so much to Johnny, his brother-in-arms, a man with a heart of gold that reminded Simon of his own. He couldn't do that to him, to you. Christ, he couldn't walk through fire again.

He wouldn't survive it.

And - bollocks, he nearly chuckled - he never sounded more miserable. It didn't matter. He'd be dodging a bullet with you, all right. All his physical needs, he could deal with them like a grown man in the confines of his own four walls.

Besides, he was a goddamn mess tonight, his feelings and thoughts blown asunder. He hadn't slept for seventy-two hours and was in desperate need of some shut-eye.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," your lilting voice broke through his thoughts. He blinked down at you. You shrugged, a small smile forming. "Funny how that works, don't you think?"

Maybe he should give you a taste of what it meant to know Simon Riley. Maybe then, and only then, would you understand the favor he'd been extending you.

Silently, he pushed the steaming cup of green tea your way.

A soft gasp. "A man after my own heart." Your fingers came around the mug, hugging it close to your chest and taking a cautious sip. "Mmm. Just what I needed."

"You feelin' better?" Christ, he might as well have spat out shards of glass with how rough he'd sounded.

You licked your lips, pink tongue darting out. "Yeah. Much," you whispered. "Thanks."

Your lips enclosed around the rim again, plump, red and eager. Red as poppies. He imagined them closing around something else, something harder, hotter, sweetened by your spit.

His muscles stiffened, the itch flaming his palms. Palms he then curled into tight fists - before releasing.

He unsuccessfully cleared his throat. "Right, then, you get that rest, poppy."

He turned on his heel, the exit never appearing more distant as he marched to it. At the end of the island, he'd left the box of med kit and his glove, and he reached for the latter as he bypassed.

A blur of white and he was staring down at your delicate features again.

"Wait, wait, you can't just leave. And you definitely can't take this." You snatched the glove from his grasp and quickly hid it behind your back. You pursed your lips at his quiet glower. "Because I'll, uh, wash it for you. More polite that way."

Bollocks. You meant to keep what was his, you wily little thing. He could easily wrestle it out of your hands, but he didn't want to give you more incentive to put your hands on him. Or, worse yet, his on you.

"You got somethin' you wanna say?" he roughed out.

"Only that I want to thank you. Properly."

"Properly thanked. Now out of my way."

He meant to sidestep but you halted him with a soft, warm palm on his chest. His heart, for the briefest second, quickened at the gesture. Didn't need incentive at all, it seemed.

You struggled for purchase. "Well - Well, what about your tea?"

"I'll live, poppy."

Another step, another pressing of your hand against his body. More adamantly this time.

Bloody hell, such a tiny thing, you were, but he'd never encountered a bigger hindrance. Especially when he was oh, so close to the exit. He was positive you were going to lock your door and swallow the key if he did not indulge you a moment's courtesy.

His abrasive exhale of defeat finally brought your palm down from his chest, and he - what? Wanted to beat your white-bricked walls in at the loss of contact? Absolutely not - couldn't have felt better.

His lids dropped, and his look of defiance rivaled yours. For a second too intense for his liking, both of you were stuck in a battle of wills.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Four se -

Christ. That pulled a reaction from him, primal and almost aggressive. The kind that had the blood in his veins rushing hot and wild.

His low, grumbling voice, a contrast to the sudden, violent need unfurling in his lower abdomen, vibrated the still air between you.

"Properly thank me how?"

Of all the answers he could've expected, with how your teeth worried your lower lip, nibbling at the fleshly petal, or how your lashes fluttered, somehow nervous, or even with how your cheeks dusted pink in evident arousal, that is, a meek, "Biscuits?" was definitely not it.

His head jerked back, a frown creasing his forehead. "Biscuits?"

He fuckin' loved biscuits.

"Yes. With tea?"

Hell, he loved that more.

He let your words sit for a while. Then, "You got any ginger nuts there, poppy?"

A bashful smile revealed a row of straight, white teeth. He wanted to scrape his own against them, his tongue coaxing in to steal a little taste of you. At the heady image, he tensed.

Growled.

You swallowed. "You don't have to be so angry about it. I've got them. Come on, then, I'll share my favorites with you."

In under five minutes, you had the Ghost sprawled atop your bed goddamn picnicking with a plate of biscuits and a mug of tea in hand.

Having made away with his leather jacket, he leaned back into a heap of pillows you'd placed for him, and - oh, that felt good - his muscles hissed in pleasure at having finally relaxed.

He grunted, his lids threatening to drift shut. Your bed was warm, soft, and smelled of wild lilacs - all qualities Ghost was estranged to in the field, which happened to dominate the better part of his life.

"You'll love this," you said from your spot next to him. He'd momentarily slacked off, and your voice brought him back from the abating garden of flowers he was surrendering himself to.

He breathed in deep, pulling focus.

Having dimmed the lights to your loft, you wiggled to a comfortable position and succumbed to your own nest of pillows.

You smelled like a peachy sunset over a beach of glistening sands, and if he touched you, you'd feel even better.

And now he was turning into a bloody poet.

If 141 ever saw him like this, Ghost would never live it down.

He balanced his plate of biscuits and mug of tea on his lap, but when you pressed your shoulder to his, he nearly spilled the hot liquid over his pants.

It also chased the sleep from his burning lids, and, quietly, he suffered your presence.

His body seared where you touched him, but he made no show of it.

You outstretched your lithe legs, soft and enticing, over the bed, and crossed them at the ankles. At the movement, your white robe parted in the seams, revealing the supple flesh of your thigh, but you made no move to cover it. You simply lay there, still delectable with a kind of sweetness Ghost wanted to languidly lap at with his tongue.

So much so that the muscle now ached in his mouth.

He swore under his breath, his own legs shifting to distance his body from you. His booted feet, he dangled at the edge of the bed. He wasn't that barbaric.

"I thought you were the patient one," you chided, misreading his mood. In your fingers, you clutched some kind of a remote. It possessed two buttons. "Watch this."

You pressed the green one.

A soft whine reverberated from above, and then a portion of the sloped ceiling slid up to, inch by inch, reveal the thundering clouds in the sky.

Not many things had the power to surprise Ghost, but this... Well, suffice it to say, his jaw slightly slacked open.

Rain dazedly pelted the glassed frame, the droplets snaking down in rivulets, and distant strikes of lightning illuminated the cloudy world above, and in consequence, the dark room.

You dreamily sighed, sinking further into your pillows. You reached for the biscuits on his thighs.

Simon hadn't realized he'd placed them too close to his groin, and thought you went in for a different feeding, body abruptly tensing.

The faintest drop of your hand's weight on him had his throat contracting.

Subtly, he had the plate relocated to his abdomen. Much better.

"I had it installed when I moved in. It helps me sleep better at night. Oh, especially in such nights." You hummed out a chuckle and pointed. "Look at that cloud. Kind of looks like the head of a chihuahua, don't you think?"

Lightning crackled. The sky brightened in hues murky gray and electric blue - before plummeting into darkness.

He followed your finger, and released a contemplative sound. It was all he offered, but it seemed to be enough for you.

There was something about the sound of rain and your soft breathing that had Simon lulled to a cozy quiet. Snugged by the pillows, his weight sank deeper into the mattress, and he thought he was in a haven of your making.

This could put him dead out if it weren't for the tempting graze of your shoulder against his, forcing him awake ever time his lashes sluggishly fluttered shut.

You sipped your tea and reached for another biscuit.

Slowly, he lifted his own mask 'til his nose and watched, warily, if you'd sneak a peek. You did no such thing.

Ignoring the twitch in his brows, he bit into the biscuits. The tea smoothed them down his throat, and the warm nourishment felt good in his stomach.

All the while, you talked about your sweets and pastries, the corner shop you bought them from, and how it was your favorite with it having opened almost eighty years ago. And how he also should visit it once he gets the chance.

You finished your tea and placed the mug on your side of the nightstand. Brushing the crumbs from your fingers, you plopped back down, head on your pillows this time.

You still did not look at him.

Sober you seemed to have a few bit reservations than wasted you, it appeared, faintest traces of amusement pulling at the corners of his revealed lips.

Downing the rest of his tea, he put away the empty plate and mug to his side of the nightstand. With that, he masked his lips anew.

In the silence, the only sound the pouring rain, he dwelled in the dark with you.

Then, so softly, you said his name.

"Simon."

His breath hitched dead center in his chest. His eyes arrowed down at your lying figure.

You continued to look away, spiky lashes fanning delicate cheekbones.

"You can stay the night, if you want," you made out, swallowing tentatively and moistening your lips. With a tiny jump, you turned over - and finally tilted your face up to look him in the eyes. You cupped the underside of your cheek. "We don't have to do anything. Not that you - Not that you said you wanted to. I'm sorry. I only mean, it's late...and you must be tired." Then, oh, so gently, "Heard you had a long night, too."

Ghost remained silent for the duration of your speech, and at the last sentence, quirked a brow up. "Yeah? And who told you that?"

"Johnny," you murmured.

"Johnny," he echoed. A low crackling sound sizzled in his chest, but it dwindled out before ever reaching his throat. "You discuss me with Johnny, do ya now, poppy?"

Your eyes dropped from his masked face, and your fingers drew small circles into the pillow next to his.

"Sometimes, I do, yes." So effortlessly admitted. Fuck. "It was merely an evaluation of your person, is all. I could see it too. Your eyes are red. Bit groggy too."

He rasped out a low chuckle, if it could be called that, seeing as some sounds tended to get lost in the wide expanse of his chest. "That it, eh?"

A small smile crinkled the corner of your eye, and if he had a heart, he might've gone as far as to call you a darling right then and there.

You shrugged. "Yeah."

He ran the tip of his tongue against his teeth. Simon knew it was best he end the conversation now, rise from your bed, and exit your apartment. Your life. He got his proper thanks, after all.

But, like a damned fool he could only blame on his exhausted state, he stayed put - and probed further. "What else you bothered Johnny about me, mm?"

You licked your lips again, the tip of that tempestuous pink muscle wetting the seam, and he bit back a wanting grunt.

He'd never been more arrested by a mundane act.

Focus, soldier.

His eyes trailed the gentle curve of your jawline...and down your slender neck.

No, not there, you daft geezer. Away.

"Your mask," your tentative voice filled the room.

"What's wrong with it?"

Your soft hair rustled against the sheets as you shook your head. "Nothing. It's merely got something honest about it, is all. As paradoxical as that may seem, I realize now. It's pleasant."

Pleasant? That's a new one.

But he couldn't have you building false notions about him like that. Maybe it was time he warned you away for good.

"I have more blood on my hands than the one running in your veins, poppy. There is nothing honest about me," he coldly provided.

"Well, I think you're wrong."

Bloody hell, what would it take to dislodge you?

You moved, body climbing up the pillows until your head rested close to his shoulder. And then a little bit more, until you leveled with his face.

The sheer heat emanating from your skin traveled past his clothes, seeping into his pores.

Yeah, you were a darlin', all right. A damn appetizing one, at that.

You shifted slightly, weight on your left hip and bared legs so dangerously close to his.

Through the thick rim of your lashes, you regarded him. "Ghost," you said, and he nearly corrected you. "Would you like to know what else I discuss with Johnny?"

A burning sensation infiltrated his cheek, and he realized you were tracing your fingertips over his masked features. Carefully, cautiously, so as to not chase him away.

"For one, those pretty eyes of yours," you hummed lowly. On cue, you gently trailed a finger down his brow bone.

Heat speared his cheeks at that, and he was grateful for the coverage. Simon Riley, blushing. His lashes fluttered a bit, but other than that, you remained clueless as to his expression.

"And they change color every time I look upon you. Sometimes blue, sometimes silver, other times brown, like sweet caramel, and my favorite, pitch black. How do you do that?"

You studied him enough to have a favorite? At that revelation, his throat tightened.

Wordless, he performed a small, almost undiscernible, shrug, the pillows underneath shifting.

A slow, deep smile curved your cheeks. "You should let me study them in broad daylight. I'm sure I'll solve the mystery in no time." With a cheeky air, you booped the tip of his nose with your finger.

Quietly, he watched your face, coal-dark eyes intent and focused, the only sounds from him his steady breathing.

"God, they're so black." Tenderly, you ran your knuckles across his jawline, angled your head, and then softly guided his face closer to yours.

Once, someone had told him he had no present, past, or future, and he'd told them that he'd see them in hell. Now, Ghost realized hell was here, in the breath of a space between you, where you sat so close to him, and yet he could not close it.

"None of that, poppy." He nudged your hold off.

Disappointment colored your eyes, drooped your shoulders, and brought those pearl-white teeth to gnaw at your fleshly lower lip. And with so much bite, he spotted teeth marks form.

"Easy there," he murmured, fingers acting without his explicit permission and pinching your chin.

At that, the discouragement washed away and your eyes clouded with something dark and promising, putting the storm outside to shame. There you went again with that look. If his career in the Special Forces hadn't driven him mad, this surely would.

Understanding that he shouldn't have touched you, he made to move away, but your fingers wrapped around his wrist, keeping him close - and sliding your body closer.

The second your hip meshed against his, his muscles seized up, locking tight upon his bones.

God, you were hot against him. Burning up.

Simon nearly bolted from the bed when he felt your legs entangle with his, the blistering tension having unwittingly made away with much of his resolve and rendering him stimulated in places he'd rather not feel stimulated in.

Your toes teased his legs, rubbing up against the coarse material of his pants. Then, they glided over them, finding purchase in his inner calves - and massaging. Up, up, they traveled, then dooown they dropped, creating a spine-tingling friction.

Ghost grunted, shoulders bunching before undulating. He straightened a bit. Good God. He was suddenly too aware of his own body heating up and all his intimate areas. All too aware of his blood pumping and where it was rushing.

"You better stop that before you get hurt, yeah, darlin'?" he grated past his teeth.

You sighed, no doubt relishing in his deteriorating strength. "A little pain never hurt nobody. Isn't that right, Lieutenant?"

As you said that, you wedged your leg more firmly between his, parting them, and slid your knee upward to lightly grind it against his sensitive groin.

Christ. He grunted with less control now, the feeling slowly slipping through his fingers.

You shouldn't be using that kind of language with him. Shouldn't be talking in such a tone. Because addiction was another sin he didn't mind adding to the list.

His body sweltered from the inside and his heartbeat increased, beating in his ears. He had to leave.

Jerking slightly at another shiver inducing motion, he pushed at your leg.

A final, "No, poppy," scraped past his throat.

"Simon," you tugged at his wrist, voice hoarsely breaking at the end and so desperately, it nearly unmanned him, "I - I'm on fire. It hurts. It hurts so bad. Need... I need you. I can't stop. I don't know why I can't stop. I just - God, I've been needing you for so long now. Every night, I dream of you, do you know that? Every night. Please, please...I'm going insane. I'm - "

That did it.

With a ferocious snarl that was more animal than man, his arm shot forward, calloused fingers latching onto your cheeks and unchivalrously burying your head in your pillows with the abrupt maneuver of his body over yours.

His weight suffocated you into the mattress.

You gasped, eyes gaping wide in alarm.

His ire flared, his desire, even more so.

"Shut the fuck up," Ghost gritted in your face, now panting hot and fast. "Shut your fuckin' mouth now, poppy. Fuck. You ever heed a warning? You ever heard of using your own goddamn fingers? You ever use that pretty little head of yours? Bloody fucking hell, darlin'. Bloody. Fucking. Hell."

You squirmed under him, releasing small, breathless sounds.

The image of you rendered so helpless roused the most primal parts of him and his cock painfully hardened, straining against the strap of his pants.

It was blooming into an ache his hands alone wouldn't be able to assuage. Goddamit.

Your eyes searched his, arraying back and forth, attempting to grasp what just occurred within the span of a blink.

Then, they narrowed, pretty lashes fusing. "I have," you ground out, baring your teeth at him. "I do. But they're never enough." Fuck, you were talking about your fingers. You almost pouted insufferably. "Never what I want. Need. Crave."

"And I am?" he growled out, baring his own teeth. You seemed to like the intensity he exuded, even heatedly roamed your eyes over his masked lips, expression devoid of all fear.

You nodded eagerly.

Yes.

He cursed under his breath.

Lowly, lethally, "How hard did you hit that head of yours, mm?"

You bit your lips to suppress a moan, "Hard enough to get you in my bed."

"That mouth of yours is goin' to get you in trouble, poppy."

You keened at the warning. "Promise?"

At that, he couldn't will himself away even if he wanted to. Not even all the soldiers in his team combined could drag him away when you stared up at him so wantonly, so desperately, silently begging to make away with the terrible ache that shadowed over your every need.

So be it. You would learn your lesson.

"Open your legs," he growled - and slipped his hand underneath your robe.

an: i made it into 3 parts bcs, well, i just had too much fun writing ghost suffering in his self-imposed ✨ agonies ✨

suffice it to say, the next part will be pure filth. pinkie swear this time. strap your seatbelts, girlies, we’re going to the horniest, dirtiest bangtown.

on another note, if anyone is willing to chat/discuss fics relating to cod or any other fandom of their liking, I’ve created a new discord server and pinned it on my blog; all are more than welcome to join ✨

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eijirousbestie · 1 day

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since ur one of the realistic bakugou writers (just like what that anonie said) what do u think about: 1.him being jealous over his s/o. we always see those possessive or jelly bakugou writings, but i think it's kinda over exaggeration sometimes. 2.with affectionate s/o? like, i know things may be very awkward at the start of their relationship but what if his s/o suddenly has the urge to pepper kisses all over his face & hug him so tight? srry if it's stupid😭

Jealousy + Affection

Jealousy

——————————————-

He’d unsuspectingly pull them into his room when they aren’t looking, closing the door behind the two and standing tall with a displeased frown on his face. Jealousy is one of the feelings Katsuki rarely ever feels. And when he does, he absolutely hates it. It doesn’t make sense to him. He has everything he could ever need. An incredible power, insane strength, intellect like no other and a tongue as sharp as a knife. What the hell would he ever be jealous about? Or at least that’s what he would’ve thought before he got close enough to someone to call his own.

“We needa talk,” he’d grumble, brows knit together. “That ‘new friend’ of yours is pissing me off. I swear they only ever need you when I finally have you to myself.”

He’s realistic. He knows they’re not just gonna drop someone for him just because he doesn’t like them for unproved reasons, but that still doesn’t mean he won’t stop wishing they will. Until then, he’ll keep taking extra measures to make sure they can make up for lost time spent together. He’d spend extra time giving TLC he usually wouldn’t, feeling like he’d need to remind his partner where home really is.

In no way is he being overtly possessive or trying to tie his partner down. That’s just crazy as hell. He’s just worried about the third party’s intentions with his person, untrusting of what their motives may be or what their influence is on his partner. He knows they can handle their own but still it’s just a normal concern.

Then again, this is Katsuki we’re talking about so when he has his mind set on something it’s hard to change his mind about it, but he tried to be flexible for them. He tries. Jealousy is a bitch.

————————————————————

Affection

Having an affectionate partner isn’t always the easiest for Katsuki to deal with but that doesn’t mean he won’t try. Most likely this person would be one of the very few relationships he’s had throughout his life. Being career and goal focused for years on end left him with no time to think about all that lovey dovey bullshit other people his age would drown in. But everybody wants somebody, even if it’s just a friend.

And that’s how the two had started. Being friends with Katsuki is no easy feat. Having to put up with constant yelling, bickering and outrageously childish arguments, it wasn’t a cake walk. But it sure as hell was still fun just like any other friendship. The two had gotten along unsuspectingly well even though their personalities were near opposite. Him being reserved and self righteous; them being outwardly friendly and super connected to people.

In most cases Katsuki wouldn’t give someone like them the time of day, but of course they’re a rare case. His rare case. Katsuki could find solace in them knowing that whatever stupid shit he might spew could easily be returned with matched energy. The sense of mutual respect would then blossom them into a budding relationship, one where he could feel safe enough to fall with them completely.

At the beginning, yes it was a bit awkward. He wasn’t the skinship type at all and didn’t really understand why someone had to be glued to another person’s skin damn near 24/7. But after being slowly acclimated to hand holding, he starts to warm up to mutual touch. Having gotten used to being hugged up by them since the earlier stages in their friendship, of course he knows all their tells months into their new relationship.

Occasionally coming in for a hug, he’d accept, letting them do so as long as it wasn’t overly performative. There’s a happy balance in everything so he’d gotten to learn how to take it with stride after a while. Well, only if they hadn’t pestered him with too much physical contact in one day. One too many hugs? He’d put a palm to their face and lightly shove them away, not using any real strength to hurt them. Only enough to send the message that he’s all hugged out.

Of course, if he noticed he’d been neglecting their love language of touch, he’d concede, but in his own way. Loungin on the couch with them, he may glance down and notice their hands resting in their lap as they focus on the television. His gaze would drift up to the side of their face, watching their expression closely before taking their hand in his and putting it in his lap instead, lightly stroking the back of their hand with his thumb.

Katsuki can be a hardass sometimes. Most of the time. But he’s incredibly perceptive of people, especially those he holds close to his heart. So of course he’d do what he can to make them feel comfortable around him all while keeping himself comfortable and preserving his own boundaries.

————————————————————

#I’m late I know #sorry for the hiatus #mha headcanons #bakugou katsuki #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou headcanons #katsuki bakugou #my hero academia

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beesmygod · 3 days

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today is webcomics day. i am bea and i make "A Ghost Story" - part 1: pre-gaming

webcomic day is a yearly celebration of the art form concocted by the screentones podcast team as a way for people to see how the sausage gets made. my webcomic "a ghost story" has been running for over 10 years, and yet i still don't think i can say i am good at making a webcomic. regardless, the comic is getting made because otherwise i become very, very sick in the head. today i would like to share with you the process of making a page of "A Ghost Story" from start to finish. either this demystifies the process or will make you think im so cool and strong for doing this 2x a week. instead of reblogging this one post until it gets very long, i will be posting individual updates that i will then compile and post on my personal website. block the tags now if you HATE comics and want them to EXPLODE.

if you have any questions, even things like "what the fuck are you even talking about" feel free to ask. i want to feel confident in what i make again and i think sometimes interrogation from an outside source is really

---

that said, let's get started. wait just kidding i want a cup of coffee first, hold on.

ok now im ready. i have a big glass of water. i have coffee. i have a headset for the parts of work that don't involve typing words. i can't type words and listen to some streamer babble in my ear at the same time, so it has to be instrumental music or nothing. i just took my meds so they should kick in after about 30 mins. i woke up late today, which is weird and annoying. but maybe i can work late instead.

first off, i need to know where i'm going beyond this one page. if i dont know where im going with something, then i usually create something that sucks that i have to deal with later. hold on my internet died, i have to reset the router. ok, anyway.

what's rattling around in my brain is that not only do i have to deal with maxine's current predicament, i am also dealing with multiple plot elements i need to wrap back around to from the previous chapter. luckily, im about to put maxine down for a nap, which means i can get back to those other elements:

i need to finish the exposition from the three ankou characters for this story arc establishing their motivations as the oppositional force in the story. the "villain" is not these three specifically, but their boss. they need to have a loose understanding of what's going on in order to communicate this to the audience. god this started turning into a huge ass paragraph so i'll just keep it short there.

we've jumped back to before jack's horrible day from the first chapter of this storyline so we have to make our way back toward that and then lapping it, which means wrapping up his various open threads like:

feeding victoria and learning something new about her

finding out alice is a very exceptional employee who is getting many awards

watching valdo call lily while interrupting her during something personal to ask her for help with maxine's situation.

jack meeting with valdo and lily the day after they first met so jack can just tell them straight up that lily has 4 sisters she doesnt know about.

help that girl with her poltergeist problem. remember that. i've had jokes for this rattling in my head for like 4 years. im going insane.

and also the fucking tilberi!!! that has a point its going somewhere!!! there's a larger menace here!!!

other things to set up the climax of this storyline. sexual tensions, hints at larger emotional problems not immediately evident to the reader

lots of moving parts. and i feel like im moving in slow motion to get to them. i can see them all weaving together in my head, its the process of putting that onto paper that's proving difficult.

ok that took an hour starting and stopping. -_- let me write the next part as i keep brainstorming on how to approach this page. taking a "rubber duck" approach to this might help. heres an image from the last page i worked on (i have a 5 page buffer rn so the site does not match the finished pages) to get us semi-situated.

also because images will help people understand what skill level we're working with here. i need to be able to communicate an idea to the audience; if the art also looks good on top of that, then that's just an added bonus. but the ability to communicate my ideas is sometimes hampered by my lack of artistic skill or comics language ineptitude. like those speech bubbles kind of fucking suck but at a certain point you have to just hit print on what you're working on in order to keep your already glacial pace.

webcomics is a tightrope act where you're also spinning 4 plates at once. the trick is to keep the audience from realizing how many actually fall or how wobbly they all are. the act sucks but technically its not a failure.

#a ghost story #webcomics #webcomic #webcomic day

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creative-heart · 1 day

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"Love's Blossom"| Enzo Vogrincic

Chapter 1: "Nurturing Beginnings"

Lucia’s notes: Here goes the first chapter of my new Enzo x Reader Series. It’s a bit short, but I hope you enjoy it as a way to get you into this world.

Content Warning: Baby Fever, slight brief talk of sex. I don’t think I’m missing anymore, but if I am, please let me know.

Word Count: 1.3 k

It only took for Enzo’s cousin Juan to put his newborn baby boy in Y/N’s arms for the baby fever to ignite a new kind of fire in her gut, one that she had never felt before, and it burnt so bright she thought it might consume her. The Brunette was so taken by the little boy’s hand grabbing her pinky with his whole little fist that she didn’t realize Enzo was looking at the image in front of him as if it was the air he lacked to live; a new urge of making Y/N a mom growing in his heart.

The afternoon went by basically with them two gawking at the infant boy and as soon as they sat down in their car to head home Y/N looked over at her boyfriend “How crazy would it be if I said I want to have a baby?” she bit her lip a bit scared of the dark-haired man’s reaction to this revelation even though she didn’t quite expect the response she got back. Enzo snapped his head to look at her as soon as she said that the widest brightest smile spreading across his face, “I was thinking the same, for some reason seeing you with Luca made me think about how cute a mini us would be”.

And so they came up with a plan, Y/N went to see her doctor and explained the situation and she took the girl off her contraceptives starting her on some vitamins and folic acid as well, to help boost her reproductive system. For the next three months or so, it wouldn’t be successful according to the doctor, as Y/N’s body needed to get rid of all the hormones before any baby-making could happen, not that they couldn’t try anyway.

Two months into this endeavor, they had agreed not to try testing before the three months had passed so they wouldn’t get too anxious about it, not that it was working for Y/N, the brunette was going insane with the wait. So when Juan and his wife asked the pair to look after little Luca for the night as they had a child-free wedding, Enzo and Y/N jumped at the opportunity to try to get as much hands-on experience with a baby as they could before they got their little one.

Leading up to the day they’d be taking baby Luca, Y/N walked in on Enzo reading a parenting blog and trying to understand what he needed to do with him, as she silently approached him from behind kissing his cheek while he sat on the couch she asked “What are you doing my love? reading up on baby care?” The older man looked at his girlfriend blushing a deep shade of red “It’s just that I want to make sure I know what to do with him tomorrow, like, what temperature do babies take their bottles? How will I know when he needs a diaper change? Like he’s my nephew, I need to do a good job, plus I know nothing about babies.” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at how adorable he looked all worried.

When Saturday rolled around, Juan and his wife dropped Luca off at Y/N and Enzo’s place at around six pm with his diaper bag with all the essentials needed for the night. “Right, so in there are enough diapers to last him like a day, in case there are any emergencies, a couple of clothes changes, and his pjs, his pacifier, and all the bottles he’ll need until we’re back with Camila’s milk in them, you only need to warm them up, and they’re microwave safe” Y/N smiled holding the baby kissing his head “Don’t worry guys, we’ve got you covered, you go have fun, if there’s anything you must know about we’ll make sure to let you know”. As both Juan and Camila kissed their baby’s head and left the brunette turned around rocking the sleeping baby in her arms to look at Enzo “you alright there?” she smiled as he stood frozen holding the bag.

“Yeah..” He replied absentmindedly “It’s just I didn’t ask them how will we know if he’s too hot, or too cold? won’t he need another blanket? what if he doesn’t like the way we change his diaper?” Y/N laughed standing on her tiptoes to plant a loving smooch on the taller one’s lips “As adorable as I find the way you panic, you need to relax baby, you’ll see it’s more intuitive than you think, plus, I’ve changed diapers before, so we’re good” He nodded softly as Y/N went to lay the sleeping infant in the traveling cot they had set up in the guests room for the night turning the monitor on before walking back out. It always amazed Enzo how much of a natural his girlfriend was with kids, they seemed to just be naturally attracted to her like bees to honey were and he loved seeing how much she enjoyed playing with the little ones at all social gatherings they attended.

As the evening went on they found themselves taking turns to play with and hold the baby, Enzo took most of the feedings and Y/N took the diaper changes under the attentive gaze of her boyfriend who wanted to soak up all the knowledge he could on this. Once they had Luca in his pjs Y/N gently paced around their living room after dinner trying to make the baby go down for the night as the raven-haired man laid back on the couch watching her, his eyes never leaving her body as she kept going “come on bubba, I know you’re tired, go to sleep” she pleaded at the whiny, fussy baby as he was overtired.

When he finally gave in to sleep she sat down with him laying on her chest as she rested back against Enzo “Finally, he was so overstimulated he couldn’t even fall asleep” she whispered rubbing his back gently and watching him sleep. Enzo hummed softly as he just looked at her with loving and reflecting eyes “I wish I could be the little man right now” he whispered and smiled at Y/N’s quizzical look “so that I could be laying my face on those perfect boobs of yours, little sucker” he chuckled lowly at her glare “What? You can’t blame me they’re just way too amazing, I would die a happy man in there” Y/N rolled her eyes smiling feeling the warmth grow up her face.

A while later she went to put Luca down in the guest room tucking him in before walking back out to the living room and taking the tea Enzo offered her sitting back down with him “You think they’ll get bigger?” Y/N looked at him “Your boobs, you think they’ll get bigger when you get pregnant? Because if they will, I’m taking you to our room right now and we’re not getting out until we get a little Vogrincic in there” he smirked as she smacked his arm playfully “we can’t tonight Mr. there’s a sleeping baby in our guest room, I won’t be fucking you, not that I don’t want to tho” the hazel-eyed woman said lowly sitting on his lap straddling him stroking his chest playfully.

“Then you’re being especially mean right now because you know what you’re doing” Enzo smirked at her innocent-looking smile “Oh yeah, don’t play innocent, we both know exactly what you’re doing grinding against me like this baby girl” he whispered against the skin on her neck kissing softly going to her soft spot slowly grazing over it with his teeth a shaky breath getting caught in the back of her throat her eyes fluttering closed as he kept kissing up and down her sensitive skin. As she ran her hands through his dark locks she heard the baby start crying and sighed pulling away from Enzo “I’ll get him” Y/N got up and walked to the bedroom picking him up from his crib, checking his diaper before laying him down to change him. As the older man looked at her walk away she sighed this has to be the only downfall of babies he thought running his hands through his hair.

Taglist: @madame-fear @lastflowrr @cyliarys-starlight @castawaycherry @luceracastro @deepinsideyourbeing @koiibiito @espinasrubi @candycanes19 @nperoconelcositoarriba @lxdyred

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broadwaybalogna · 2 days

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send prompts it is!!

because I just finished a math test and need my blorbos to suffer with me, let's have zutara in a modern au where they take a math test together! 😊

one of them would have a pretty low score and fluff and comfort ensues

(i hope I pass)

I’ve literally been waiting all night for another prompt to pop into my inbox and this is so cute omg!!!

Have I ever said how much I love modern Zutara? Because I LOVE modern Zutara.

Also- I hope you pass your test! Sending all luck your way~

Oh yeah, before I start this. I would like to reiterate that I am an American. Apparently different counties have different ways of grading but for me an A is a 90-100, a B is an 80-90 and a C is around a 70-80. D is 64 up and F is anything below. Just thought I should point that out before I begin.

Zuko moved out of his dad’s house when he was fifteen. Well, more like he was kicked out and he displayed little to no reluctance to leave. After his mother had left, he had little hope of seeing his father redeem himself.

But Zuko found that old habits died hard. Because even though his uncle was one of the most caring people he had ever met, there was still this overwhelming anxiety Zuko felt when he did something wrong. Especially in school.

In Zuko’s experience, school was the easiest way for Ozai to control Zuko. He spent most of his nights either studying or hiding, only ever leaving his room for dinner. His father checked his grades twice a day (he had figured out Zuko’s school username and password) to make sure Zuko was on top of everything. So when Zuko moved, his mentality regarding school didn’t change, even if his environment had.

He found himself still cooped up in his room reading through books, skipping meals, and solving equations well into the night.

That changed when he met Katara.

Katara was what many people called a “nerd”. But she still looked pretty so she didn’t get teased nearly as much as she would’ve had she not been. Katara, like Zuko, aced tests and projects. However, Katara, unlike Zuko, was an enthusiastic learner. She would raise her hand every chance she got in class to answer a question or ask for clarification. She even sometimes corrected their teachers on their mistakes. Needless to say, Zuko gave her a lot of side eyes.

They didn’t have very many classes together, especially since she was a grade below his, but she had been moved up to Zuko’s Math, English, and Physics classes. She apparently also took on level Biology which made Zuko’s head spiral.

At first, they barely spoke a word to one another. But once acknowledging each others academic achievements, they began so talk every so often during free time in classes. Katara would often be working on something for another class while they talked, though. Zuko still found it relaxing. Although she enjoyed it more, she still understood the pressures of school and the mental spirals it would put people through.

One thing led to another and they began studying together as well. Zuko couldn’t really help her with Biology (it was an elective. Seriously, who takes a core class as an elective??) but they exchanged notes and shortcuts for other classes. Zuko was able to give her a lot of tips on writing papers for English since he had a politician for a father (finally, Ozai was good for something).

Katara was a beast at math, though. She tackled each problem like it was common sense. Since it was a higher level, she was still challenged, but not nearly as much as other kids in their class were. It was no wonder Katara also took physics, the science that revolves around math.

The one thing she struggled with was history. Zuko learned very early into their friendship that Katara was absolute ass at memorizing anything. The only way she was able to memorize formula’s was because she would repeat them over and over throughout study sessions until it drove them both insane. So Zuko found himself helping her most with that subject.

One night, when a study session ran much longer than it should’ve, Iroh suggested she stay with the two of them for the night. That was her first and most notably, not last, sleepover at Zuko’s. Actually, it was the furthest thing from her last. It became part of their routine for her to stay over once or twice a week to keep studying. Iroh tried to get them to relax and take breaks every so often, which they did, but most of their time was spent either studying or talking.

Then even more of their time was spent talking.

Then a really good portion of their time was spent going on walks midday and talking.

And Zuko enjoyed it so much. He seriously enjoyed just being able to breathe. He felt genuenly free when he was with Katara, studying or not.

But both Zuko and Katara soon realized that prioritizing their mental health over school had consequences.

It had been time for their unit test in math, a test both of them had forgotten to study for the night before. Zuko mentally beat himself up over and he could see Katara out of the corner of his eye drop her head onto her desk.

They were so screwed.

Or, well, just Zuko was screwed. Turned out that Katara’s ‘mathematical Common sense formulas’ came in handy and get her an 79% on the test. Although she had never gotten a grade below an 85 in the class, she still let out a sigh when she checked her grade in her phone.

“Are they out?” Zuko asked, already pulling out his phone to check his own grade.

“Yeah. Ugh, I’m so screwed. Sit brought down my semester grade to a 89.”

“That big of a jump? I thought you had a 96 earlier?”

“This was worth a lot of points. I feel so stupid.”

Katara continued to ramble but Zuko tuned her out as he looked at his grade from the light below him.

61.

He pursed his lips and closed his eyes, convinced that it was all a hallucination.

“Nine was a hellscape and- hey, are you okay?” He heard Katara say as he looked back down to his phone.

61.

It was still there, staring at him, no, laughing at him from the grade-book. Zuko felt like he could hear his father’s voice yelling at him, lecturing him over the horrifying careers that lie ahead of him based on this one mistake.

“Zuko? Can you hear me?”

Could he hear her? For some reason, he didn’t know how to answer.

“Iroh! Something’s going on with Zuko!” That was the last thing Zuko registered before he felt his chest heave and his mind race.

When Zuko could finally register the things around him again, he was in his bed laying down. He turned to his side and saw Katara pacing in his bedroom.

“Kat?”

“Zuko! Oh my god, toh scared the bejesus out of me! Are you okay? Do you need me to get you a water?”

“That would be nice.”

“Good, because I already got you one.” Katara tached over to Zuko’s bedside table and passed him a cup of water. Classic Katara, always being one step ahead. “Iroh said you had a panic attack. I assume it was over- um…” Zuko thought back to what had happened. Right.

“Yeah, my bad.”

“Oh no! Not your bad! In no way is this your bad, Zuko! This is your shitty father’s bad- no- your shitty father’s worst,” she corrected herself.

“Hmm,” he hummed.

“Zuko,” Katara finally said, lowering her voice and finally becoming more calm, “I don’t really know much about your relationship with your dad- or school. But it was so nice seeing you actually happy and talking these past few days. It really put things into perspective for me. I realize that I’ve been studying so much all the time, that I never thought about how it affected you. I’m sorry.”

“What? No, don’t be sorry. My relationship with school is.. complicated at best, but in no way is any of it your fault,” he sat up to face Katara, “but I have realized how much more I like being free. I just need to find a balance.”

“Could I- could I help you find it?” Katara asked after a short moment has passed.

“I’d love that.”

They both smiled and Katara engulfed Zuko in a soul-crushing hug. Zuko’s heart did a little flip and he let out a sigh.

He liked this.

He also might like Katara.

He was happy with those conclusions.

It’s 1am and I have state testing tomorrow (today??) so GOODNIGHT!

#atla #zutara #atla katara #atla zuko #avatar the last airbender #katara #zuko #fanfiction #katara x zuko #zuko x katara #fanfic #drabble

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