#<a warning from the grim reaper

[nexusmonstrum]

DRINK YOUR WATER!!! -A message from QSMP's local farmer, the Grim Reaper BadBoyHalo.

[fleverian]

Little Match Girl

When I first made Kyra as a character I didn't plan for this to be her backstory. But when I was trying to decide how she died I remembered this The Little Match Girl story and thought it fit so perfectly. So I guess my original characters are now fanfiction.

[hildegardladyofbones]

Ok who decided that colour of death was black? Bc if Europeans were correct about one thing then it was that the colour of death is white

[i2sunric]

𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 (p.sh)

PAIRING: knight!sunghoon x queen!reader (f)

SUMMARY: after your parents death, you were forced to be crowned queen of the north realm and decided to take a young sergeant as your personal guard. however, you can’t ignore the evident tension between the two of you, that will lead to some… illicit affairs. well, it never happened if nobody knows, right?

WARNINGS: 1800s au. mentions of war and death, fencing terms, sexual tension, unprotected sex (they didn’t have condoms, did they?), masturbation, dirty talk, missionary, fingering, cream pie, angst if you squint (like, really squint), mentions of scars, pet names (sweetheart), i abused the world ‘would’. i know. lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 20th August 2024

WC: 6k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey y @destinyhoon (oneshot) @indigoez @astratlantis @shuichi-sama @skaterhoon @simsungsims @hoonatic @sammie217 @hoonics @kissesforthefangirl @woorcve @laurradoesloveu @capri-cuntz @whateverhoon @woninluv @cyjhhyj @alienqbrain BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED.

NOW PLAYING: War Of Hearts by Ruelle

a/n: honestly, i don’t like it. the idea was good, the outcome not so, but let me know your thoughts. i literally don’t know old english, my knowledge comes from pride and prejudice and bridgerton, im sorry (i gave up by the end and it shows). please LIKE & REBLOG (or don’t, cause this is the worst fic i’ve ever written lol)

You hadn’t realised just how drastically your life could change overnight until you woke up to the news that your father, the ever so powerful king of the North realm, had died in war.

Soon, your teachers were making you learn about strategies and alliances, not about history anymore, your legions kneeled before you, ready to be at your service.

You had to watch your mother, the woman you looked up to, being consumed by the grief of her dead husband until the grim reaper decided to make them reunite.

Leaving you all alone. Helpless, bearing a burden so heavy it crashed your shoulders.

In just the span of a month you found yourself leading a kingdom through war, sending hundreds of warriors to their death sentence.

The crown weighed significantly on your head, your desk was full of scrambled letters and quills dripping ink, and if it wasn’t for your most-trusted maid, Ella, you would’ve certainly already died of hunger, leaving your people without a ruler.

Fortunately, the same day of your coronation, the first day of you being a queen was also the first day of a young sergeant.

He was the youngest of all, just like you being the youngest of the monarchs, and was leading the loyal legion.

Doing a better job than you, you had to say. He was diligent, perfect in his tasks and polite whenever you interpellated him.

His name was Park Sunghoon, and it didn’t take much for you to nominate him as your personal royal guard.

He was an attractive man, barely a couple of years older than you but he indeed towered you by much.

Sunghoon’s face was sharp, with a defined jawline and hardly any trace of baby-fat left.

Despite his frail appearance, you knew he had defined muscles hidden under his white guard uniform, you had seen it.

Even if you were busy with your tight schedule, especially after your coronation, you still found the time to peek at him.

In the morning he’d train the royal legions, helping new warriors. In the afternoon, he would follow you through your travels around the realm, visiting villages and other castles.

The days you stayed at the castle he’d occupy his afternoons by doing some training alone and some evenings he would stand out of your bedroom to guard.

And Sunghoon? Well, he was as attracted to you as you were.

It always sent jolts of excitement whenever he was around you, walking you to your activities and always keeping an eye for possible harms.

Especially one day, when Ella ran towards him with a bucket full of water when he was guarding your bedroom “Sergeant!” She panted, “Please, would you be so kind to bring this into her majesty’s room? I need to get another one.”

Sunghoon was quick to nod “Of course.” He replied politely and took the heavy — for her, not so for him — bucket from her hands.

Ella sincerely thanked him and hurried away to complete her task while the young guard opened your bedroom door.

When his eyes raised to your figure, he saw you standing there… naked. Probably expecting your maid to enter and certainly not your personal guard.

Your hands quickly shot to cover your dignity, your cheeks tinting a deep shade of pink as you breathed “Dear lord.”

Had he been more reckless, he would’ve dropped the bucket, but he managed to keep his polite demeanour.

“My sincere apologies, my lady, I should’ve knocked.” He turned slightly to the side so as not to look at you, but still managed to peek from the corner of his eye.

“D-doesn’t matter..” You murmured, reaching for the nightgown on the chair of the desk and quickly slipping it on “I just didn’t expect it to be… you, sergeant.”

Sunghoon nodded, “Where do you want me to place this?” He asked, raising the container of water.

You stepped aside, hugging your arms like you were afraid your nightgown could reveal your body to him once more. Not like he would complain.

“Inside the tub would be great.” You replied, watching as he lifted the bucket and dropped the hot water in it.

Sunghoon dared to look at you only then, bowing his head slightly “I apologise again. I did not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

You let out a small breath and offered him a warm smile. You were always so kind and thoughtful to everyone, it made him want to lock those who dared to criticise you in the dungeons and make them all perish.

“Worry not,” Your voice was gentle, like a ray of sunshine through the storm “I forgive you, after all, it was an accident.”

Sunghoon thought that if he ever had the chance to take a glimpse at your perfect, naked body, he would’ve taken it right away.

But he chose against letting you know and opted for a “Thank you, my queen.” He bowed, “Anything else you need for me?”

“No, thank you.” You said “You can go back to your duty.”

He nodded and headed to the door, hesitating for a second and then walked out.

The image of your naked body was hard to remove from his mind. Sergeant.

Your curves, your dips, the colour of your skin, your breasts and your pretty pussy… Sergeant?

He wondered what you would feel like if he touched you, tasted you— “Sergeant!”

The voice of one of the royal guards snapped Sunghoon out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat “Yes?”

“It’s my turn,” He said, his eyes blinking faintly “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes, worry not.” Sunghoon nodded and gave his farewell to the guard before walking to his chamber.

Since you had labelled him worthy of being your personal knight, his bedroom was in the same wing as yours, unlike all the other knights in the legion that stayed in the West wing.

He entered his chamber and closed the door behind his back, the room was dark except for the moonlight shining from the window.

It was better that way, he enjoyed the natural light, rather than the artificial one from the candles that also smelled bad and spread smoke in the room.

Sunghoon sighed, quickly removing his uniform to put on some more comfortable clothes, some black pants and a white, sleeved shirt.

He dropped down on the bed, another quiet sigh leaving his lips.

He rested one of his arms behind his head while he played mindlessly with the laces of his shirt.

It was stronger than him, his mind kept replaying the same scene over and over again.

Your body.

Perhaps, it was that you were so modest, despite literally being the ruler of the kingdom, or it was the fact that you were literally his type.

But he was drawn to you, the same way a donkey was to the apple in front of him. Maybe not the best example, but you get it.

At the thought of your flushed face, he felt his pants growing tighter. At your plump and tender lips, he palmed himself to soothe his growing desire.

At the memory of your perky nipples and your breasts, his hand slipped inside his trousers until he pulled them down to his ankles.

Sunghoon knew he couldn’t be loud, but the soft whimpers and groans that left his lips weren’t contained.

He imagined it was your hand, the one providing him relief, that you were down on your knees, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Oh yes, you’re so good.” He whispered, squeezing the base of his thick cock, it twitched.

The tip was angry red as he heavenly stroked it, never focusing on one place more than the other.

If it were you, would you lick his tip? Would you squeeze his balls and take him in your mouth?

Would you ever fit him all?

“Take my cock,” He groaned, thrusting his hips upward to fuck his fist “Take it like a good girl.”

He pressed two fingers on the tip of his length, edging himself “You like to tease, my lady?”

So many filthy scenes played in his mind, keeping him company as he felt the sweet sensation in his lower stomach.

“I’m so close, sweetheart.” He groaned, moving his hand so fast it almost hurt his wrist “You want it on your breasts? Of course.” He kept moving until he saw white, “Take it.”

He was left spent, dirty white all over his sheets as he tried to even his breath.

Sunghoon fell asleep with a smile on his face that night, and he woke up even better after you visited his dreams and showed him how much you wanted him.

…Too bad it wasn’t real, right?

𓆩♡𓆪

After your little and awkward interaction with Sunghoon, the previous evening, you decided to go find him during his late afternoon training.

You would’ve lied if you were to say it didn’t turn you on, the thought of being seen by him in such an intimate manner. But that, he mustn’t know.

He was wearing a black sleeved shirt and a pair of trousers of the same colour, a great contrast with his skin.

You quietly tip-toed, walking towards as he stroked in the air with the fencing sword.

His movements were calculated, precise and so mesmerising you hadn’t even realised you were right behind him until the blade stopped right beside your jugular.

You gulped “Good evening.” Sunghoon widened his eyes and quickly placed himself into a more polite position, removing the swords from your neck “I'm so sorry, my lady, I didn’t see you coming.”

You just smiled at him “You seem excellent at fencing.” You commented, your fingertips trailing the blade of the sword, careful not to cut yourself.

“Fencing is one of my favourite parts of training, my queen.” He replied, his tone serious.

You hummed “Is that so?” The way the sunset kissed his skin, how his hair was perfectly combed and matched with his fit looked straight out of the erotic novels you hid under your bed.

“I’ve always wanted to learn this type of art.” You informed him “Though, it would be too scandalous for a woman to do it, wouldn’t it?”

Sunghoon’s gaze was soft as he commented “There’s nothing scandalous in wanting to be able to defend yourself.” He threw you a french sword “Even if you have a whole legion before you.”

You swiftly caught it, circling around Sunghoon while he did the same.

“Nah ah,” He was quick to correct “Eyes on the enemy’s, never on the sword.” You diverted your gaze from the sword to his chocolate, warm eyes.

“Great,” Sunghoon praised. “You must study your enemy if you have the time, watch his body language.”

He stroked again and you barely missed it. A second time and you docked it.

At the third, you blocked it “You slightly blink your right eye when you strike.”

Sunghoon smiled proudly, “Yes, that’s right.” You squealed happily, making him slightly widen his eyes.

If it wasn’t the best sound he’d ever heard.

“Now, your strike isn’t bad, especially in second and third, but your position can be better.” He dropped his sword and walked behind you.

“Bend your knees.” He commanded and you obliged again, following his instructions “Your arm shouldn’t stay that far… tilt your elbow.”

“Your back is already straight,” His fingers trailed the laces of your corset, feeling your spine underneath them “But your chin should be tilted… like this.” He tipped your chin up with his index finger.

“How about how?” You whispered breathlessly, feeling the coldness of his skin against your burning one.

“Better, but not perfect.” Sunghoon replied and quickly put space between the two of you “Still, you’re one of my best students.”

You smiled happily and was about to reply when Ella called you from afar because dinner was being served.

You sighed “I must go.” You said, slightly hoping he would keep you with him.

However, obviously, he just nodded and bowed. “It has been a pleasure, my lady.”

As he watched you walk away, he hoped you hadn’t felt the proof of his desire pressed against your back when he fixed your position… the proof he had to fix before anyone could notice.

𓆩♡𓆪

Sunghoon’s footsteps echoed through the dark hallway as he made his way to your room. He wasn’t sure about the reason as to why you called him, given the fact that he was supposed to be patrolling the main gates, but it seemed clear when he noticed you had already sent the guard outside your room to rest.

He stood in front of your bedroom door, the hallway only dimly lit by the few candles on the walls.

There was something in his mind that told him he was still in time to turn his heels and simply ignore your late-night visit request, even if it would eventually get him in trouble.

Still, he aight and placed his hand on the doorknob, quietly opening your bedroom door and entering.

Out of precaution, he locked the door behind him and made a few steps towards you, nevertheless keeping some distance.

“My queen,” Sunghoon began, “I thought you’d be asleep by now.” His tone was quiet, almost concerned.

You were standing in front of the large window that gave you a nice view of the royal gardens, the moonlight illuminating the room as well as a few candles on the tables.

Despite the late hours, you were still wearing your pistachio green gown, your favourite one. The one that once belonged to your mother.

It gave you a sense of comfort, reminiscing the days where you would drown in the fabric as you played queen and princess with her.

You deeply wished it was still a game.

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping.” You replied, still giving him your back.

Sunghoon cleared his throat. Yes, he’d seen you in that gown the same morning, but now, in the intimacy of your chamber, it made him want to drop to his knees.

He made his way so that he was standing just a few steps behind you “Any particular reason for your lack of sleep?” He inquired.

You sighed softly. The moon made your doe eyes sparkle, as if they held the stars in them, “Perhaps, thoughts of the upcoming war.”

Sunghoon’s hands hitched to hold yours, to give you the comfort you needed without any paternal figure to rely on.

Still, he kept them clasped behind his back. The need to be respectful of your position was still in the front of his mind.

“It is not confirmed yet,” He tried to reassure “The other kingdoms may decide not to attack anymore.”

You tried to find reassurance in his words, but even if your people thought so, you weren’t naïve. “They killed my father,” You gulped. “It’s just a matter of time before they come at me next.”

And that was true, everytime you ever tried to close your eyes to seek some rest, your mind would play any possible scenario.

You being slayed, you being beheaded… your kingdom going in flames.

“No one will touch you,” His voice was soothing, like a hand pulling you out of deep water, preventing you from drowning “Not while I’m here.”

You finally allowed yourself to look at him, afraid that if you did it the second you heard the key of your room twisting you would’ve kissed him.

His hair was still perfectly in place, his forehead in sight. His porcelain-like skin glowing under the rays of the moon, caressing his cheeks.

You offered him a polite smile “You seem confident, sergeant.”

Sunghoon let the briefest of a smile form on his lips “Confidence comes with the job,” He said, softly “It is my duty to protect you, my queen, and I take that very seriously.

“What else does your job offer?” You asked, fully turning your body towards him “Apart from private fencing lessons and a twenty-four-seven guarding.”

His breath hitched slightly when you stood in front of him, he hadn’t even realised the vicinity you two had until he had to tilt his head down to stare at you. It would be so easy to reach out and touch you, to feel your skin against his hands.

Sunghoon’s gaze slowly dragged from your chest up to your face. “That’s it, mainly,” He said, his voice a little rougher than before. “Though… my duties extend to anything you ask of me, my queen.”

“Anything?” You murmured quietly, your eyes widening.

He wanted to touch you so badly, to pull you against him so he could kiss you and touch you anywhere and everywhere. But he had to keep the professional veil going, even though he knew you were baiting him.

He nodded, his eyes on yours “Anything at all.”

You batted your eyelashes, trying to seduce him without boldly doing so “Is that so, sergeant?”

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched, struggling to keep his composure and hoping you weren’t able to see the effect of your presence.

He took a deep breath before replying “Yes, anything you ask of me.”

You gulped, your heart pounding in your chest as you gathered the courage to put into action your plan “I believe I need to unwind,” You stated “Any ideas?”

Sunghoon’s mind was immediately flooded with ideas, most of them very, very inappropriate for the moment. He bit his lip and tried to keep a straight face.

He considered keeping up the professional front but quickly decided against it. He was tired of forcing himself to maintain control.

“I do have a few ideas, my queen,” He said, his voice a low rumble. “Mind sharing them with me?” You asked.

Sunghoon stepped closer to you, so close that your bodies were almost touching. “My ideas may not be entirely appropriate, my queen,” He replied, “Would you like to hear them anyway?”

You closed briefly your eyes, just the brief feeling of his body near yours sending jolts of fire through your veins “I’m all ears.”

His eyes roamed over your face and body, taking in every single detail. He was practically salivating, desperate to touch you in any way possible.

Sunghoon leaned even closer, his breath now hot on your skin. “I have things I'd like to do, my queen,” He whispered in your ear. “Wicked things, to distract you from your stress.”

You let out a shaky breath, shivering from head to toe “Wicked?” You questioned.

Sunghoon felt his control slip as chuckled slowly, “Oh, very wicked, my lady.”

He brought his lips to your neck, planting soft kisses up and down your skin, taking you by surprise.

However, he kept his hands firmly by his sides, restraining himself from wandering. “I want to do things that would be highly inappropriate for a sergeant to do to his queen.”

“And who says so?” You breathed out, aching for him, your eyes flattering closed.

Sunghoon hummed against your skin, his lips moving to your collarbone. “That would be the royal laws,” He replied quietly, “Among other things.”

“I could get punished for this, you know.” He said in between kisses. “My actions are considered disrespectful.”

“I could change the law,” You replied, hooking your arms around his neck “For the night.”

His hands immediately went to your hips, grabbing you and pulling you even closer to him. “Just for the night, my queen?” He murmured against your skin, his lips trailing kisses up your jaw “I might want more than just one night.”

You chuckled lowly, “How do you know so already, sergeant?”

sunghoon’s hands moved from your hips to your thighs, caressing them through your nightgown, his thumbs tracing patterns against your skin.

Sunghoon pulled back to look at you, his eyes darkened significantly. “I'm quite sure, my queen,” He said, “The things I want to do to you are not something I can do just once.”

You shivered at his words, and the hungry way he was shamelessly looking at you. It almost seemed unreal, the polite soldier losing his cool in front of you, “How about you show me what you can do tonight, first?”

He looked at you, his gaze dark and intense, before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours in a rough kiss.

You moaned and gripped his shoulders tightly and he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth desperately, like he was starving.

You tip toed, desperate to reach for him, to feel his lips on yours and make you forget all the duties you had.

Sunghoon chuckled against your lips, amused by your struggle to reach his height. He pulled back, a smirk on his face. “Too short for me, my queen?”

Without warning, he lifted you up with ease, and he continued the kiss.

You wrapped your legs around his waist to steady yourself, thanking yourself for not having worn an underskirt that would’ve made it impossible for you to straddle him.

Sunghoon groaned against your mouth as you wrapped your legs around his waist, the kiss becoming more desperate and rougher.

He moved his lips from your mouth and attacked your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites as he went. One of his hands moved from your thigh to your butt, squeezing it appreciatively.

You groaned and let your head fall back, goosebumps filling your skin in reaction to his lips.

Your fingers tried to tug his blue uniform jacket, desperate to remove any clothing between the two of you.

He gently helped you to remove it, chuckling against your neck at your eagerness.

You rocked your hips, needing to feel him, to soothe the aching sensation between your legs.

He pressed his own hips back onto yours, you could feel the proof of his desire for you, secluded in his pants.

“You have no idea how hard it is not to take you right now,” He thrust upwards, making you gasp.

“What’s stopping you, sergeant?” You asked breathlessly, you knew he was trying to restrict himself, to draw a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

But you didn’t care, all you had in mind was how good his touch was on your skin, his lips on yours and how better it would’ve been if he was inside you.

“Nothing,” Sunghoon whispered in your ear, his breath causing your body to shiver “Absolutely nothing, as long as you’re not opposed to it.”

You chuckled, looking down at yourself “Does it look like I’m against it?”

Your sweet laugh only made him madder and he kissed you, tasting your lips “No, not at all, my queen.”

“Then, take me.” You whispered on his lips, your hand caressing down his arm, still clothed from his sleeved shirt.

Sunghoon shivered under your touch, your words breaking the last strand of self-restraint he had. He grabbed your hips, suddenly carrying you to the bed and dropping you down on it.

He quickly dropped to his knees between your legs, his hands on either side of you, trapping you in “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” He warned.

Your hair formed a halo around your head, spread around the mattress. Your chest was heaving up and down as you replied, “That's fine by me.”

Sunghoon hummed appreciatively at the sight of you splayed out on the bed underneath him. You looked divine, like an angel sent to drive him insane.

He connected his lips to yours once again, his hands moving behind your back as you propped yourself on your elbows.

His skilled fingers worked on the laces of your corset, undoing them.

You frowned, pulling away “Experienced much?”

Sunghoon chuckled softly as he got the corset undone, pulling the fabric off you and discarding it on the floor.

He shook his head before replying, a smirk on his lips. “Just a few,” He said. “and I have been fantasising about this moment for a while now.”

“Have you?” You whispered, your hands caressing his chest, where the v-neckline of the shirt exposed it “Have you thought about me late at night, sergeant?”

Sunghoon sighed softly, his eyes closing briefly as he confessed “Yes,” He said “Every night I’ve wondered what you would taste like, how soft you were, what your moans sounded like.”

His words only made you bolder. “Have you touched yourself wishing it was me?”

Now that the corset wasn’t restricting your air capacity, it also made the dress fall down your shoulder, exposing them to him.

He leaned down and pressed gentle kisses on your skin, trailing them up to your ear “Yes, my queen. I’ve touched myself wishing it was you, craving your body and soul.”

You let out a shaky breath, the sweet sensation warming your lower stomach “Perhaps, I have done the same.”

Sunghoon groaned loudly against your skin, his body shuddering at your confession “You’ve touched yourself, thinking about me?”

You flopped back onto the mattress and hummed “Yes.”

He was completely losing it, the thought of you touching yourself, thinking about him, driving him crazy. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain some composure.

“Tell me more,” He rasped, his voice a low rumble. “Tell me what you've done, what you've imagined."

You bit your bottom lip, afraid to voice out your late night secrets.

“Go on, my queen.” His voice was soft and soothing, his hips just barely pressing against yours “I won’t judge you, I can’t… Can I?” He let out a quiet chuckle.

You breathed out “I’ve thought about your fingers,” You gulped “Touching me in places no one has touched before.”

“Where?” He whispered, his nose grazing your cheek “Tell me.”

Instead of speaking, you took his hand and slowly guided it down your body, you were still covered by your dress but he could still feel your core beating under his touch.

So, in one swift movement he placed his hand under your skirt, feeling just how damp your underthings were, making you gasp.

“You’re so wet for me.” He murmured, “Is this how you are around me?”

You nodded, all drops of self awareness down the drain.

Sunghoon smirked, taking your hand with his free one and placing it on the front of his pants, making you feel his hard on “That’s what you do to me.”

Amazed, you started to palm him, letting your hand feel “I do?”

“Yes,” He whispered, his hips bucking against your touch “All the time.”

“Please,” You pleaded, “I can’t take it anymore, I really need you.”

Sunghoon sighed “There’s no turning back from this, my queen..”

“Y/N.” You blurted out, eyes taking in his reaction.

Without having you to explain, he knew what you meant. You wanted him to call you by your name, crossing a boundary that would be hard to build back.

Still, he reached behind your back and unzipped your dress, slowly slipping it down.

You laid underneath it, the only thing separating you from him was your lace underwear, your upper body bare for him to see.

Sunghoon rested his chest on yours, his fingers grazing your clothed core as he whispered in your ear “Y/N.” Making you moan.

You nodded, your arms wrapping around his neck to steady yourself “Sunghoon.” You breathed back.

“Y/N..” He murmured, slipping your panties to the side and teasing your entrance with his digits “My pretty, pretty girl.”

Your eyes flickered closed, senses awakened by his single touch.

“You’ve never done this?” He questioned, gathering all your juices in his fingers, your pussy clenching around nothing.

You shook your head, your mind already a puddle of nothing “No.”

“Then I need to get you all nice and lose, mh?” Sunghoon murmured, inserting one of his fingers inside your wet folds.

You gasped, your back arching against him at the intrusion “Oh lord.”

The sensation was so new but so welcome, you had never really dared to finger yourself, your orgasms were given by clit stimulation only, so when his digit thrust into you, your body jolted with each one.

Sunghoon’s lips attached to your left breath, tongue swirling around your nipple and you thought you couldn’t feel any better until he curled his fingers and found your sweet spot, making you moan out loud.

“Shh,” He cooed, pressing one hand on your mouth while his teeth gently grazed your abused nipple. “You don’t want anyone to find out what we’re doing, don’t you?”

You were quick to shake your head, but as he thrust a second finger in your pussy, you grunted.

One of your hands went to the back of his head, your fingers knotting his perfectly combed hair “S-sunghoon.”

You bucked your hips up, needing him to stop and continue at the same time “Feels so good.”

Sunghoon chuckled lowly, both his fingers brushing against your sweet spot “I know, Y/N.” He murmured “Let me take care of you.”

You nodded mindlessly; you thought that even if he asked you to hand over the kingdom you would’ve nodded anyways.

You whimpered, your other hand digging in the flesh of his shoulders from the amount of pleasure you were feeling.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered, brushing his thumb on your bundle of nerves “Relax.”

You could feel the knot in your stomach tighten with each thrust of his fingers, just a brief pain from the intrusion making your head spin.

“Oh lord,” You breathed out, “I think I—“ Another broken whimper left your mouth.

Sunghoon nodded, understanding you and crashed his lips on yours, drowning your moans in.

Another thrust of his fingers got you falling apart under him, your whole body trembling.

It took a good couple of minutes and his soothing words to calm you down, your breath still laboured but at least you could keep your body still.

You opened your eyes back and met his own, he offered you a sweet smile “You’re perfect.” He whispered, kissing your forehead.

You smiled back at him, slowly releasing your strong grip around his neck. “This has been… amazing.”

“I’m glad, my— Y/N.” Sunghoon quickly corrected himself, “But… we don’t have to do anything more.”

You frowned, worry coating your features “Was it because you didn’t feel good? I can help—“

He was fast to shake his head. “No, of course not.” He caressed your cheek “I just don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“You will not.” You sat up, looking inside his eyes to convince him “I want it, Sunghoon, I want it with my whole body and soul.”

He closed his eyes and dropped his head, as if he physically restrained himself from reaching out to you and take you in all the ways someone can be taken.

“I want you so much it’s driving me insane,” He breathed out, resting his forehead against your chest “My sweetheart, I would love to make you mine… will you allow me to?”

You nodded “Yes, please.” You tugged at his shirt, needing him to remove it.

Sunghoon complied, tossing it to the floor as well as his trousers, leaving himself bare to you.

At first, you hadn’t understood why he was so reluctant to be intimate with you, but as soon as your eyes met his bare chest, you did.

Your breath hitched at the sight of a wide scar all across his chest, looking like half a cross.

“Sunghoon…” You whispered, your fingers trailed over it. He flinched but quickly relaxed under your gentle touch “What happened to you?”

His eyes were so vulnerable and he looked like a lost boy, not like the sergeant of a legion. “I will just say that I had a close contact with a blade, back when I was still training to become a knight.”

He gulped “I understand if I repulse you—“

“No,” You quickly took his face in your hands “No. You’re beautiful.”

He frowned, as if not understanding what would you ever find beauty in such a scar.

Seeing that he wasn’t believing you, you laid on your back and wrapped your arms around his neck, taking him down with you.

Your hand reached to pump his shaft and it was as if he died and came to life again, nothing like those nights he touched himself thinking about you, could prepare him from this.

You slowly aligned him with your folds and nodded, wanting him to make the first move.

He let out a pained sigh and gripped your waist, finally pushing in you.

You were still wet from the foreplay and as well as your cum, but it didn’t mean you didn’t feel some pain from his thickness.

He moved slowly, his breath fanning your cheeks while he brushed his nose against your skin.

“How does it feel?” Sunghoon whispered in your ear “Mh? Tell me, Y/N.”

Your skin was sweaty and hot, “So good.” You murmured back, tightening your hold on his neck “Faster, please.”

You begged him so sweetly and politely he couldn’t refuse, his hips moving against yours slightly faster “You want to make love?” He questioned “Or do you want me to take you like how I’ve wanted since I laid my eyes on you?”

“Take me.” You choked out, your eyes squeezing from the pleasure “Hard, I don’t care.”

Sunghoon circled your waist with his arm and held you tightly against him, you could feel the shadow of his scar on your chest.

His hips snapped on yours so fast even the bed started creaking, and you secretly hoped no servant was walking by to hear your show.

“Open up.” Sunghoon said and you obliged, opening your mouth.

He gathered some saliva in his mouth before spitting in yours, watching as it went down your throat.

You hummed, gulped it, tasting him “Jesus Christ.” He shook his head, his cock twitching inside of you.

“I don’t think I can last longer.” He squeezed his eyes, his fingers digging in your hips as he tried to restrain himself.

“Don’t you dare unless I cum again.” Your fingers went to stroke your bundle of nerves fast “Together.”

Sunghoon hummed, his own movements getting sloppy but never faltering as he chased his high.

“Y/N.” He groaned, one of his nails piercing your skin, adding just the right amount of pain to send you over the edge.

“Now!” You cried out, your body shaking with your second orgasm of the night.

Sunghoon let out a deep growl and emptied his seed in you, coating your clenching walls.

“So perfect.” He kissed the top of your head, his voice soothing after the intensity of the night “You’re perfect.”

He got up and took a napkin from your table, carefully cleaning your legs while also prepping kisses on your inner thighs.

You were sure that if your body wasn’t tired you would’ve mounted him.

Sunghoon reached into his clothes but your hand darted out to stop him “Stay.”

His eyes softened, pondering between staying or leaving. He opted for the first.

You had never felt happier than falling asleep with the sound of his heartbeat next to your ear, aimlessly hoping it wouldn’t be the last time.

But your relationship made it so that he was forced to peel himself away from you when he thought you were asleep, gathering his clothes and quietly slipping out of your room.

And it was the best decision, soon, you would’ve had to find a husband, make an heir for your real, rule it with all your attention.

Good thing, late night was made to unwind, and it never happened if nobody knew… did it?

[nyctoaerah]

⋆♱⋆YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW

WARNINGS: Yandere Behaviors, Drugging, Abuse in form of ‘Training’, Breaking bones.

PAIRINGS: Yandere Hashiras & Yandere Uppermoons x Reader

You’re a fanfic writer who always enjoyed writing deranged yandere bullshit, and a sadistic one at that — you’re always making sure to make your mc’s suffer just because it’s satisfying, and they were never spared from the torturous path you laid out for them.

Little did you know that your grisly storytelling would come back to haunt you, for you ended up getting isekai’d on one of your fanfics, because for some reasons, life decided to be an ass, and the the grim reaper’s scythe whisked you away to the realm of one of your fanfics — and the sensation of being isekai’d into your own creation was disorienting, to say the least.

After all, the very same fanfic that you got reincarnated into was the most disturbing of them all — your yandere kimetsu no yaiba fanfic.

The atrocious acts you've inflicted upon your protagonist are beyond twisted, like seriously fucked up. You didn't just stop at giving them a shitty backstory and psychological trauma — oh no, you cranked it up a notch by tossing in a goddamn harem of yandere nutjobs. These thirsty-as-hell psychos were so off their rockers that they veered straight into bonkers territory, their obsession reaching levels that would make even a deranged serial killer blush.

They were downright bat-shit crazy over the MC, like, borderline certifiable. It was as if the MC was their holy grail, their reason for living.

Not the cute and endearing kind of devotion either; we’re talking hardcore, stalker-level obsession.

The only one who were somewhat less psycho yandereish was Mitsuri... but then there was Obanai, who was a walking danger zone on steroids...

Every damn piece of that twisted fanfic you cooked up is a total shitshow.

Kyojuro went batshit crazy over the MC because they stood up for him against his dickhead of a father. Shinobu turned into a psycho stalker because she couldn't wipe her own ass without the MC's help, resorting to schemes like trying to paralyze and drug them just to keep them on a leash.

Tengen who thought that he could charm the pants off the MC until he got a taste of competition and spiraled into a possessive man..

And then there’s Sanemi who’s the most cray cray of them all... He practically broke the mc’s bones and beat them up into a pulp, all because he couldn't handle his jealous rage and tried to pass it off as some sick form of ‘training’

And the demons? They’re more worst than the hashiras.

And the worst part of it all?

You were now the reincarnation of the MC.

©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡

𝐀/𝐍: this is just the outline but i think that i’ll publish this one on my wattpad soon after i finished doll smitten, still debating on whether i should make this one a female or male tho^^ +++ this one’s gonna be a harem.

[sickeninglyshoujo]

a/n: i saw the renders (you know the ones) and became feral with need for dad!ghost, other cod dads coming soon, sorry to my friends for being forced to read me word vomit this in chat over four hours. ao3 link coming soon warnings: pregnancy talk word count: 1.8k

Simon doesn’t like when the baby wears the skulls but you do because it reminds you of him

When he grew up he equated the skull mask to terror, the baby only has positive thoughts about it and gets excited seeing it yelling out “daddy!” if she sees the motif in public, mortifying Simon and delighting you. Onlookers growing even more concerned when you coo back, “Yes, that is daddy!” pointing to the Halloween display of a grim reaper statue.

I can tell you that Simon is a master at baby rearing

Simon would absolutely carry the baby under his arm like a football once her neck is strong enough even if you don’t like it because it’s more comfortable like that

It’s second nature to him somehow

Even when you’re stressed about the baby and can’t get her to stop crying somehow Simon just comes over and says the one thing you haven’t tried because he can differentiate between her cries

You were afraid about introducing the baby to Riley, but Simon wasn’t. “They live in the same flipping house, he has t’ get used to her!”

“But not when she’s newborn! Let her get a little bigger first!”

“No better time than now! She’ll never be afraid of him then and he’ll protect her!”

“They call them malingators for a reason!”

“Riley is a well-trained retired soldier. He’s not going to hurt the baby.”

The first meeting had Simon holding the baby in his arms and stooping down to Riley’s level, Riley nosing at the baby’s sock-covered feet hanging from Simon’s arms, sniffing excitedly. You stood above Simon, wringing your hands together, ready to jump in between the two at a moment's notice.

“This is your baby sister, Riley,” Simon instructed the dog whose ears moved, listening to his master’s voice, “She’s your new assignment, boy.”

“Bloodthirsty, isn’ he?” Simon asked you with a grin as the dog yawned and stayed calmly seated, beginning to lick at the baby's booties.

“Shut it, Si.”

Riley is the baby’s shadow. If she so much as sniffles he’s darting across the house trying to find out what’s wrong. It’s like Simon’s watching over her even when on missions 

Simon hates that the dog is named Riley because he thinks it’s stupid and is constantly begging to rename the dog. You refuse because you like the constant reminder of your husband. It doesn't matter that he shares the family name.

When you first bring the baby home from the hospital Simon is in constant awe at how tiny she is. Like a little doll he keeps telling you to the point he sounds like a broken record

Simon constantly worried about baby being cold 2k24 and always has a blankie in the diaper bag or draped over the baby carrier.

After missions he would look for you first when he came home before stripping off the dirt and grime of missions and now it’s the baby. He used to think you were his reason to keep trying to save the world and now it’s her. It only stings a little but that is soothed when you see the awe in his face when she coos at him from her crib

It isn’t long before Simon is trying to get you to agree to try for another “Jus’ one more love,” he'll mutter into your neck after the baby is put down for the night and you two have retired to your bedroom only to be batted away weakly

“Oh no, Si! No more babies and no more sex! Not if you’re going to talk like that!”

“But yer such a good mum. We should have a houseful.”

Simon would petition you to quit your job because it’s bad enough the baby has to deal with him being gone on missions they shouldn’t have their mum gone too

“I make more ‘an enough for you to stay home with her!”

“The money isn’t the point, Si,” You coo at the baby on your lap, “I don’t need to be a housewife and I like working!”

You giggle whenever the other 141 men are over because they will carry the diaper bag slung over their shoulder and completely at odds with their uniforms.

It heats your cheeks to watch your burley husband in full military uniform when you greet him on base, bouncing your baby on his hips, playfully pulling her hands away when she gets too close to a switch or something she shouldn't touch, particularly when other women notice him too

It would swell your chest with pride when you and Si were out with the baby and he’d get longing looks from women when he was doing dadly things like pushing the stroller or rifling through the diaper bag for her bottle or burp cloth. 

“You have to have seen the way women look at you when you’re carrying the baby.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“You’re practically tormenting them, Si! And me too! You’re all big and tough! You’re in uniform or in a compression shirt and then you’re holding onto her in just your arm while she can’t even wrap a hand around one of your fingers!”

Simon doesn’t understand your point, “I’m tormenting you?”

Heat flushes your cheeks, “I like watching you be a dad to our daughter.”

The baby has essentially four dads as all of 141 takes care of the baby when they come to visit on leave

You worry about them spoiling her, “She’ll get too used to being held Si!”

“Then damn well let ‘er!”

“What about when they leave!”

“You think they’re leaving?! Soaps brought a bloody duffel!”

Because when you have the baby Captain Price, Soap, and Gaz are all going to visit. Moving into your cramped guest room for easily the first month after the baby’s born, Gaz and Soap fighting over who gets the futon and who has to share the bed with the Captain.

They need to see the baby!

They never thought Si would settle down but that was before you and your endless patience with the grumpy military man set in his ways.

You didn’t miss when Price clapped him on the shoulder after Simon showed off the baby for the first time, “You did well, Son.”

“Thank god she got the missus’ looks!” Soap crowed, “I was worried she’d get L.t.’s ugly mug!”

“I was hoping she would Johnny,” you peer down at the baby in Simon’s arms and trace a finger down her cheek, “She did get his eyes though. You know those were the first thing I noticed when we started talking, Si? How sad your eyes were.”

“Don’ have “sad eyes”.”

“I thought you did. And you were wearing that silly skull balaclava too, so I couldn’t very well fall in love with your chiseled jaw or the cute scar on your lip,” Soap and Gaz howled in laughter, missing the dirty looks from Ghost (You did too, eyes entirely on your daughter swaddled in a soft terry blanket in her father’s arms)

“Hey L.t. let me give you a few more scars for the missus to kiss!” Gaz ribbed

You never minded patching Simon up after missions. It gave you an excuse to ogle your husband in detail. Even before you were married, he’d tried to wave you off when you’d dab at the blood encrusted cuts and then flush when after taking care of the ones on his arms, much less when he stretched and took off his shirt for you to do the ones on his chest too. Thankfully he didn’t notice your brain shorting as you forgot how to breathe when you saw how heavily muscled and tattooed he was, culminating in an audible gasp as your eyes took in his happy trail and Adonis belt. 

“You ok?”

“Y-yeah just banged my foot on the tub.”

He’d later recount this to Soap who nearly banged his head on the wall at how dense Ghost was being

“An’ you wen’ home after that!”

“Yes Johnny, I had PT the next morning and had to ship out that night.”

He let out a string of curses, “The lass likes you and probably was hoping you’d stay the night wi’ her!”

“MacTavish,” Simon warned.

“She let you take off your clothes in her bathroom and then cleaned you up! Lasses don’t do that for cheeky cunts they don’ like!”

You miss him when he’s on missions of course, but it’s easier once you have Riley and then the baby. It’s like you have piece’s of him with you

Si is a beige mom but instead of beige it’s gray. You try and explain the importance of the bright colors in developing the baby’s eyesight but Si just mutters something about no baby of his is going to look like a muppet

Riley used to sleep at the foot of your bed but now he sleeps by the crib. You don’t know when he learned how to work door knobs but it happened somewhere between the third trimester and birth. Now you have to coax him into your room if you miss Si and want to cuddle Riley

You’ve given up on trying to keep Riley out of the nursery and instead just tut when you find dog hairs on the baby. 

Riley is the ever-patient soldier with the baby, letting her pull on his tail and ears, tugging on (and sometimes removing) his fur, all while happily wagging his tail at being used as a jungle gym

When the baby starts toddling and skins her knees, Si can’t help but scoop her up before the first tear leaves her eye “Si you’re spoiling her!” “She hurt herself, I can’ just let her cry” “She hadn't even cried yet!” “She was abou’ to”

Simon is an over attentive dad because he doesn’t want his baby to suffer the same way he did 

Si rolls his eyes whenever you  tell him not to throw the baby in the air because he’ll drop her but he knows his reflexes are superhuman and he’d catch her

SI doesn’t baby talk and will discuss the finer parts of gun mechanics and maintenance with your infant as she gums on a teether.

When she’s older, Si buys her a pellet gun for Christmas and hides it from you until unwrapped on Christmas morning

By the time it’s in her hands you know you’ve lost

He ignores your dirty glance that says “We’ll talk about this later”

As she grows up she starts talking about joining the SAS like her daddy and you’re filled with fear while Si encourages it. Starts taking her training with him much to your horror, first on short jogs around the neighborhood, then to the gym proper to teach her how to throw a punch. She quickly becomes the star of the base, with all the men calling her “Recruit”

“Nothing dangerous yet Si I mean it!”

“She asks for it!”

“She is a child and you are her father! You’re supposed to be the voice of reason!”

“The voice of reason says she might as well be trained right if she wants it!”

a/n: likes/reblogs/comments appreciated please talk to me about dad!ghost i cant contain myself

[icyminghao]

a bouquet a day

pairing: seungcheol x gn!reader genre: fluff, meet-cute, florist!reader warning(s): none word count: 1.1k

summary: you find yourself noticing a certain good-looking man frequenting your flower shop daily, and you’re dying to get to know him.

a/n: this was loosely inspired by @hoshipills’s idea of a seungcheol mafia x florist au!!! though it isn’t implied that seungcheol is a mafia here, i still thought the idea was rly cute and wanted to expand on it :)

He’s here again.

And by ‘he’, you mean the gorgeous, almost intimidating-looking man who comes by your shop to purchase an extravagant bouquet of flowers almost daily. He’s always dressed in the darkest of colours, and today is no different as he adorns a black turtleneck with black slacks, looking very much like the grim reaper.

You usually tend to stay judgement-free when it comes to your customers, but this man in particular has been coming one too many times for it to be considered normal.

But then again, who are you to judge, right?

“Hi, again,” the man practically squeaks before clearing his throat, the tips of his ears turning slightly red, “May I get a bouquet of daisies this time, please?”

“Sure! You can take a seat here for a while, I’ll get it ready as soon as possible,” you gesture to the lounge area of your shop like it’s the first time that man has been here (it definitely isn’t), before turning to prepare the bouquet he had requested.

“Take your time,” you hear the man reply, and you smile as you get to work.

“What’s your name?” you ask a few minutes later, as the man is standing behind the counter and as you’re keying in his order on your tablet.

The man’s eyes widen, seemingly shocked at the fact that you’d started a conversation with him. “I—”

“I- I’m just asking because!” you cut him off suddenly, feeling like the shop got hotter, “Because you come here quite often, but I don’t know your name.”

What’s wrong with me? you think, mentally chastising yourself for your erratic behaviour, why are you explaining yourself?

“Seungcheol,” the man, or Seungcheol, replies after a beat, the softest of smiles resting on his face as he watches you try not to die from embarrassment.

For some reason, you’re unable to form a coherent sentence, finding yourself nodding instead as you push the bouquet of daisies on the counter towards him before holding up the card reader so Seungcheol can pay.

“What’s your favourite flower?” Seungcheol asks as he taps his card on the reader, eyes never leaving yours as he does.

You pause, mouth opening and closing like a fish before you slowly react, “Daisies. I love daisies.”

Seungcheol’s smile stretches wider, and he pushes the bouquet on the counter towards you. You blink, confused.

“For you,” Seungcheol nods towards the flowers, “Thank you for accommodating me every time I visit.”

To your surprise, he turns and leaves before you can reply.

Huh, you think, gaping at the door in confusion before turning to go back to work after a while, I’ll have to prepare some flowers to thank him tomorrow.

To your disappointment, Seungcheol doesn’t show up the next day.

And the next day, and the day after the next.

By the fifth day, you’re starting to come to terms with the very real possibility that Seungcheol isn’t coming to the shop anymore when he suddenly bursts in five minutes before the shop is due to close.

He’s panting a little, hair slightly disheveled, and you suppress the urge to reach over and fix it for him. Instead, you simply stare at his figure in front of the door, confusion written all over your face.

“Hi,” he breathes out, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Hi!” you chirp, wincing at the unnaturally high pitch of your voice, “Are you here to shop flowers again?”

“Yeah! Um, no—” Seungcheol stutters, and you try your hardest to keep a straight face, “I just wanted to apologise for rushing out like that the other day.”

You blink. “Oh! It’s okay, you must’ve been busy.”

Seungcheol chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, and silence ensues between the two of you.

“Um!” you pipe up after a while, briskly walking behind the counter upon remembering something, “I… wanted to give you this. To thank you for the daisies the other day.”

Placing a bouquet of handpicked flowers on the counter, you slide it closer to Seungcheol and gesture for him to come forward.

“These are…” Seungcheol’s ears are visibly redder, though you can’t quite understand why. Perhaps the shop is too cold?

“Pink roses! They represent gratitude,” and admiration, but Seungcheol does not need to know that.

“T-thank you,” Seungcheol replies, a soft smile resting on his face, “I’ve never received flowers before.”

“Oh! Well,” you panic, “I hope your partner wouldn’t mind that I’m giving you these. It totally slipped my mind when I was preparing these and I’m truly sorry if I’ve overstepped!”

Seungcheol is silent for a moment, as if taking his time to process what you’d just said, before tilting his head in confusion.

“I… don’t have a partner,” he explains, looking slightly sheepish.

At this point, you want nothing more than to bury yourself somewhere and never face him again. “I’m sorry! I just thought you had one since you’d come here every day for a bouquet of flowers, but then again I shouldn’t have assumed anything, so I’m so—”

“I came here for you,” Seungcheol interrupts, and your eyes widen. “I’m sorry?”

“I’ve been coming here every day for you,” Seungcheol repeats himself, looking slightly nervous, “I walked in here by chance a few weeks ago and was so taken by you I just couldn’t help coming here every day just to see you. I thought you might find me weird, so I started buying a bouquet of flowers every day so you wouldn’t suspect anything.”

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, Seungcheol’s words having quite literally rendered you speechless. You watch as Seungcheol’s expression gradually morphs into one of panic, having misintepreted your silence as discomfort.

“All that to say! I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable in any way, if I’ve weirded you out, I’ll be more than happy to leave and never come back again,” Seungcheol rushes to explain himself, his voice gradually getting softer, “But on the off-chance that what I’m feeling right now is mutual, would… you allow me to take you out on a date sometime?”

You smile, heart nearly beating out of your chest, “I wouldn’t be opposed to it. The date, I mean, not the part about you leaving and never coming back—”

You’re interrupted by the melodious sound of Seungcheol’s laughter, and you can’t find it in yourself to be mad about it.

“Well, then,” a soft smile rests on Seungcheol’s face, “Would you please do me the honour of giving me your number?”

masterlist

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua @viscade @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @dahliatopia @kwantaro-deactivated20240614 @chanceonceli @hrts4hanniehae @leehanascent @nonononranghaee

[darklordofthesimp]

Wrath (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)

Summary: After you risk your life protecting Ghost, the Lieutenant is furious. Angry enough, in fact, to pay you a late-night visit.

Requested by @chippyroh :

#69 Shut up or I'll shut you up.

#71 You’re driving me out of my fucking mind

A/N: Listen here you little shits, I will not be making a part 2 to this and you cannot convince me this time.

Category: Sexual Tension || Angst || Enemies to ? || Hurt/ Comfort

Warnings: Graphic language, Manhandling/Rough-handling, Sexually suggestive themes.

It was meant to be an easy mission but, really, what were you expecting?

You were experienced enough to know that when it was meant to be a breeze, you had to prepare for a fucking hurricane. And as Ghost stormed towards you, his fists clenched and his gaze furious, you knew this was gonna be one hell of a storm.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He didn’t stop until his chest bumped into yours, heaving and hard. His wide shoulders swayed from side to side as the officer sized you up. “Are you fucking stupid?”

You grit your teeth and glared. “I just saved your fucking life, Sir.”

You weren’t much in comparison to the towering figure that Ghost presented, you knew that. Still, you stood as tall as you could manage and set your jaw. You were right to provide him with backup. You were right to have taken out the people on his tail.

You’d done everything right.

So, why was he so fucking angry?

“Don’t start this shit with me, Sunshine,” Ghost hissed, fingers wrapping around your bicep. He pulled you in flush against his body, your armoured plates knocking against his. “That was out of line.”

“Saving your life?” You questioned, bewildered. “Saving your life was out of line, Ghost?”

His eyes narrowed and a deep rumble reverberated in his chest.

“No,” he snapped, leaning back. “Pretending you were anything but a fucking sniper was, though.”

Your breath left your lungs as though you’d been sucker-punched. You searched what little features you could see for an ounce of regret, any softness in his features to show he didn’t mean it- but the kohl on his eyes only highlighted the sharpness of his gaze.  

“This isn’t over, Sunshine,” Ghost warned, snatching his hand from your arm. He imparted a glare that had your throat tightening, before he brushed past you roughly.  For once, you wished you had never made it home.

______

You were angry at yourself for crying.

It was in your own shower and hidden from the rest of your unit, but you were still upset.

Your life was insane and full of enough sorrow to destroy most, and there were more than enough reasons to justify an emotional break. However, crying over a man? You were ashamed. Embarrassment seared red hot across your chest, it made your blood boil- it made you angry.

Who the fuck did he think he was?

You had done everything right. Price had clapped you on your back upon your return, commending your quick thinking. Ghost had scoffed at that, watching the interaction from the darkest corner of the room.

“Leaving your post is not ‘quick-thinking.’” The words had been a snarl from beneath his bloodied mask.

Price raised a brow as you shifted on your feet furiously. “I saved you on the evac, Sir. There was no fucking post.”

Ghost took a step toward you, his finger pointing at your chest as though he were marking you for death. You were thankful Price stepped in, you were angry but you weren’t stupid. You didn’t want to go toe-to-toe with the grim reaper himself but you would to defend your actions.

“How about you both hit the showers and cool off. Good job on today,” he gave the two of you a pointed look, “the both of you.”

You said nothing, only returning Ghost’s glare vehemently before storming off.

Your clothes felt too soft on your freshly scrubbed skin. It always felt like that after a mission; everything smelt too good, felt too good and sounded too quiet. It would take you a couple of hours to adjust, but your blood burned at your surroundings.

You were already overstimulated and now you were uncomfortable.

Fuck you, Simon Riley, you ingrateful twat.

You wanted to find him and shake some sense into him. You wanted a fucking thank you. You wanted his recognition, his approval and you seethed at your desire to feel accepted by him.

You dried your hair roughly with the towel, your frustrations translating into your menial tasks. Angrily shower, angrily dry off, angrily get dressed- you were fucking furious and you couldn’t get past it.

Bang, bang, bang.

You gasped, dropping the towel as someone battered against your door. It shook on the hinges under the pressure, and you stood frozen for a long moment. It was late, there was no reason for anyone to be visiting.

Everybody from the 141 was out and about, you and Ghost had returned a day earlier than expected.

You frowned as they knocked again with the flat part of their fist, the dull thuds picking up in volume. You scooped the towel from the floor, throwing it over the chair in the corner.

“Coming,” you shouted before they could go for a third round. You worried the frame wouldn’t hold up much longer. No sooner than you had twisted the handle, the door swung open. You leapt out of the way, eyes wide as a towering figure stepped through the threshold, slamming the door shut behind them.

The lock engaging behind him sounded like a death knell.

“Sir-“ you rasped, stumbling backward as he approached you.

“Cut that shit out,” Ghost snapped, “you know my fucking name.”

Fuck.

You stared up at him with wide eyes, as you continued back into the room. He was furious, just as heated as he had been when he’d gotten back from the mission. The man had clearly showered and changed, standing before you in a hoodie and balaclava.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” You glared at him, heart leaping into your throat as your back finally hit the wall. Ghost’s eyes slid to each side of you, marking how you were trapped between your own furniture.

“You know what you did today, Sunshine,” he said heatedly, “everyone can congratulate you about it as much as they want but you listen to me. Never do that again.”

You sneered, leaning forward. Ghost inclined his head, meeting you halfway as your noses nearly brushed. “I saved your life within the parameters of the mission and I’ll do it again and again if I fucking have to.”

“You were almost killed!” Ghost’s finger rose to press into your chest harshly. “Almost had a fucking bullet put between your eyes.”

“But I didn’t! Had I not stepped in you would have been a fucking pin cushion, Simon!”

You were forced back into the wall as he smacked an open palm into the plaster beside your head. You jumped at the sound by your ear, your lip trembling beneath his gaze. You could feel the heat emanating from his body in waves, he was fucking burning.

“What?” You whispered, your mouth dry all of a sudden. “You gonna fuckin’ hit me, Riley? You gonna hit me for doing my job?”

“Of course not, you idiot.” He snapped, leaning back. Ghost’s eyes narrowed as his hand slid from the wall by your head, resting at his side.

“Why are you here then? Barging into my room, locking the door behind you, putting me against the wall,” you listed, your voice low and urgent as you glared at him. Your chest heaved against his as you raced to catch your breath. “You’re either here to fuck me or fight me and we both fucking know that you hate my guts, Riley. So, get to it and get the fuck out.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sunshine,” Ghost rasped, shifting on his feet. “You deserve to get your shit rocked for the way you acted out there.”

 You searched his gaze, his eyes the colour of a stormy ocean as he glared right back at you. “You don’t even know what you’re doing here,” you snarled, leaning forward once more. This time, Ghost didn’t challenge you. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved, L.T?”

“Shut up,” he snapped.

“Your life is worth more than mine, Simon,” you growled, poking a finger into his chest. “You’re my superior, it’s my job to protect you.”

“Then fucking listen when I say shut up, or I’ll shut you up.”

“Sniper or not, if it ever came down to me or you- it’s my fucking job to die for you-“

Your back slammed against the wall, breath leaving your body at the impact. You were disoriented for a short moment, vision hazy as you tried to regain your bearings. His body was pressed against yours, his hands gripping your shoulders so tight you knew you’d be bruised.

You couldn’t think, you couldn’t anticipate his next move. Not when he gripped your jaw, half his fingers on your face and the others wrapped against your neck. He leaned down and you flinched, opening your mouth to gasp.

He wasn’t going to hit you.

Instead, Ghost kissed you.

You don’t know when he had rolled his mask upward, but his mouth was hot and urgent against yours, groaning when he swallowed your gasp before it could come to fruition. He tasted sweet on your tongue and poisonous to your mind, drowning all your inhibitions in his touch. You whimpered against him and a wicked smile curved his lips upward.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. Your hands gripped his shirt tightly as his free hand moved to tangle itself in your damp hair, your dripping strands locked tightly between his fingers.

When he pulled away you were dizzy, your head falling back to rest against the wall. Your chest heaved as your heart pounded against your ribs, demanding to be freed.

There was nothing but silence for a long moment, the space between you both filled with his ragged breathing and your shaky gasps. You were so close you could taste him, his forehead pressed against yours and his eyes squeezed shut.

“You’re driving me out of my fucking mind, Sunshine.” Ghost rasped finally, his voice throaty and strained. “You just don’t fucking listen.”

You swallowed thickly, eyes trained on the beast before you. You’d watched this man tear people apart with his bare hands. You’d seen him take bullets to the chest, seen him snap necks and tear limbs.

But those fingers that had wreaked so much havoc rested on your throat softly, now. So gentle, as though he thought you would crumble beneath him if he squeezed.

But he wanted to grip tighter, and you knew it. You could tell by the twitch of his fingers, by the clench of his jaw.

“I can be taught, Sir,” your voice was barely a whisper but Ghost’s eyes snapped open as though you’d yelled at him. He watched you, like a predator observing its prey. You wondered if he thought he’d misheard you, maybe he was praying that he hadn’t.

When he leaned in close, your body shivered against his as adrenaline spiked your system.

“I’ll fuckin’ teach you to listen, Sunshine,” he murmured finally, fingers tightening against your skin. “Don’t you worry.”

Maybe he didn’t hate you, after all.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

kiss of death

words: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, alternative universe, soulmates, grim reaper!rafe, talk of death, superstitions, reader kind of dies (its explained in the fic)

you swallow deeply as you step into the graveyard. the darkness is creeping into every corner, but you know it's not midnight, not yet.

you feel a pang of guilt as you walk through the rows of graves, briefly glancing at the names to distract your focus from the anxiety filling your chest.

it's an old superstition, but you're beyond desperate.

you stop at the hole in the ground and the temporary headstone, ready for burial tomorrow.

“sorry mr. crawford.” you whisper. you barely knew him, the town psychologist currently kept in the morgue. you could probably use him right now as you move carefully to your knees.

you recite the words from the local town lure, the promise of your true love showing up to kiss you awake at sunrise if you laid in the grave at exactly midnight.

all your other friends have found love, love that is so pure and beautiful it makes your chest ache with jealousy and wanting.

you look at your watch and let out a sigh. five minutes of looking into the grave until the hands of the clock point straight up, five minutes to change and regret your decision.

the minutes tick by but your resolve only grows. you're beyond desperate and the worst thing that could come of it is you spend the night sleeping in a hole under the stars.

you climb down the second the minute hand crawls to the 12 and lay back in the grave, blinking upwards towards the starless night sky, the bright sunlight reflecting off the moon blocking out any other suns.

you close your eyes, trying to ignore the fact that you're exposed to worms and bugs and whatever else happens to be lurking in the graveyard at night. certainly nothing you want to come across.

soulmate. your soulmate. your one true love is worth one night in a grave as you fall into a deep slumber.

--

you can feel the light against your eyelids, but before you can open them, it's blocked out by a shadow.

you gasp as lips are pressed against yours, cold but soft lips. you want to open your eyes but they feel so heavy as you kiss back, hands reaching upwards but you feel nothing, just pressing into the freezing cold air despite it being the middle of summer.

you finally force your eyelids open and you realize who you have been kissing as he pulls away, more of a black figure then a true human form.

“no.” your voice quivers. “no!” 

“did you not want your one true love to wake you with a kiss?” he smirks down at you, hovering directly over your body.

“my-my true love is not death.” you thought it was just another superstition, the grim reaper, the one to facilitate your crossing to the other side, but when looking up you know that the mans face that looks back down upon you is nothing but pure and utter death.

“then tell me why i was called to this spot only to find you laying here.” his voice is smooth but deep in tone, not what you expected from the grim reaper as you almost find comfort in his soft words.

“this can't be right.” you look around you, realizing that all light from the rising sun has disappeared, along with the walls of dirt around you, replaced with darkness so thick it's like you could reach out and touch it. “am i?”

you can't make the word out fully. “kind of.” the reaper shrugs. 

reality shifts and despite you not changing positions, you can tell in the inky blackness that you're now on your feet.

“come with me.” the grim reapers legs push out from the black mass, appearing and disappearing as he begins to walk, somehow able to find his way, walking with the purpose of a destination that is unseen to you.

“what if i don't want to?” you question, even though your heart is pulling you towards him, telling you to follow and stay close.

“i will give you this option only once.” the reaper turns to you. “you can turn around and walk away, or you may follow me and be with your one true love and rule the underworld as my queen.”

you know your back should be towards the reaper as you begin to walk, but you can't go back to your earthly reality after discovering the grim reaper is just waiting for you to die, for you to take your place.

as you walk alongside the grim reaper, you begin to make out shapes moving through the darkness.

the first one scared you so bad as you whipped your head to the side, trying to make out what appeared to be someone walking the opposite direction.

“what is this place?” you ask, voice quiet, feeling as though you don't want to interrupt the figures pushing through the dark.

“the place between life and death. the farther we walk, the closer we are to death and my-our kingdom.”

“and the people walking the other way?” you turn to look over your shoulder as your feet continue forward.

“some have been revived. by doctors or desperate loved ones. but most made a choice. most got to the final step and realized it wasn't there time.”

“and is it my time?”

“you will not truly be dead.” he states, and you find yourself swaying to walk closer to him, his cold presence comforting as the only thing around you can truly make out. “i will keep you in the state that you are now for as long as you please. you will be in limbo, in status. your earthly body will still be yours.”

“so no one will know what happened to me?” you can tell that your body isn't left in the grave, that you're whole and complete right here, soul included.

“no.” he sounds almost regretful as the blackness ahead of you turns into a swirl of dark grey, making out the rolling hills as you get closer.

“your final choice.” the reaper says, and you don't mention that he already gave you what he claimed to be your final choice before you began walking.

it hits you then. the reaper is in just as new of a position as you are in, and your nerves don't outweigh him.

“what is your choice?” you parrot the question back. “do you want me… to rule with you?”

“i have waited an eternity for you. so long that the memory of how i came to be the reaper is no longer available to me.” the grim reaper pauses for a moment before continuing. “yes. i want you alongside me always.”

you nod and then take a step past what you can tell is the final film, the one separating you from whatever rolling hills of gray grass await.

a weight you didn't realize you were carrying leaves you as the grim reaper steps out next to you, the black mass of his body gone as he appears as a fully realized man, legs and all.

you don't mean to, but you reach out and touch him, seeing if your arms would move through him as they did before during your kiss, but your fingers just press against the soft fabric of his black long sleeved shirt.

“welcome to the underworld.” he says, taking your hand in his and pulling you to continue walking.

you can make out a castle in the distance, and the closer you walk towards it, the warmer the hand in yours gets and the less gray seems to be blotting out the world as the grass turns green beneath your feet.

you gasp the first time you see one, stepping closer to the reaper.

“they won't hurt you.” he clarifies quickly as the large wolf runs past you in the distance, several hills away.

“you control them?” you question.

“yes.” he nods. “and all the wolves on earth as well. they are part of my domain.”

“i thought it was going to be a three headed dog.” you whisper slightly sheepishly as you realize your hand has been intertwined with the grim reaper the entire walk, feeling so natural that you don't question the fingers snug between yours.

“everyone got something partially right.” he says. “the egyptians, the greeks, the christians. they all had pieces.”

“oh.” you don't care to question more, not yet. you're already overloaded with all the information.

you pause as you get to the door of the castle. it's not dead quite like you expected, you can hear voices chattering inside and when you look up you can occasionally see people passing by windows.

“people do what suits them best after death. what would make them most happy. for most, that's reincarnation. for some, that's helping others cross or serving me in other ways. everyone inside this home is dead.”

you like that he calls it a home and a slight smile stretches across your cheeks.

“do not ask them how they died or their life on earth. if they wish to reveal it to you, it will be on their own time.”

“okay.” you nod, looking to the grim reaper, your soulmate. “what should i call you?”

you certainly can't continue to call him the grim reaper, it would just be an upsetting reminder.

“rafe.” he smiles down at you, not the terrifying soulless being you thought he would be. “you may call me rafe.”

--

the tour of the expansive home is long, but you find yourself only half listening as you look at rafe.

his appearance is so different from when you saw him first, he looks less harsh, kinder, more alive.

“are you tired?” he asks as he pushes the doors open to what you assume is the master bedroom. “i know you just awoke but if you need to rest-”

“how does time work here?”

“there's night and day just as there is on earth. it's still morning.” he places a gentle hand on your back, pushing gently to get you to enter the room.

“this is our chamber.” he explains. “you may rest, or bathe, or eat.”

“i…” you look down at your clothes, dirt still covering your pants. “id like to change.”

a maid ushers in, and you try to see if you can get any visual clue that she's passed, but theres nothing as she opens up a cabinet and begins to grab out various jewel toned options.

“i must attend to some business.” rafe says. “ill be back soon.”

you get changed and dismiss the maid, wondering what kind of person chooses to serve like this for all of eternity and actually enjoy it, but you're too distracted with exploring your surroundings to think too hard about it.

you find a sitting room with walls covered in bookshelves, the grand bathroom, and a door that leads to a balcony.

you step out and look over the rolling hills, seeing as they turn to gray the farther away it is from the castle, seemingly encircled completely by the void.

you occasionally see a wolf running, or a figure floating, but you can tell none of them are your reaper. that must be the other helpers he was talking about. despite not being able to see their faces, you know it's not him.

you take a seat on the lush couch on the balcony. they must not have true weather here or it would certainly be ruined by the rain.

before you notice it, now dressed in clean clothes similar to rafes, your eyes are closing and you're falling into a deep sleep.

--

you yawn as you wake up, stretching as you realize you'd been moved to the bed at some point.

you sit up suddenly only to come face to face with rafe who is sitting in an armchair moved from the sitting room to the foot of the bed.

“did you move me?”

“yes.” he nods as you blink, looking outside, unable to tell how long you've been asleep. like he's reading your mind, rafe speaks. “it's the next morning. you were exhausted from the journey.”

“did you sleep in the bed with me?”

“i do not need sleep.” rafe answers, jolting you slightly before you remember who you are here with.

“then why have this bed?”

rafe gives you a pointed look as you replay his words in your head. of course it's for you. he's been waiting.

“come.” rafe stands, imposing his tall height again.

you slide out of bed, only then realizing that your clothes have been changed.

“a maid changed you.” he says quickly. “i will escort you to breakfast and as you eat i will finish my work for the day. then we can…”

he trails off like he doesn't know what the options are. “get to know each other.” you offer. “since you're my one true love i suppose we should… go on a date?”

a smile stretches across the reapers face. “yes. a date.”

--

“what is it you'd like to know?” rafe asks as you're sat in the front of the boat, moving slowly down a river that winds through the hills.

it scared you at first, but rafe certainly wouldn't be taking you anywhere where you couldn't come back.

“uh…” there's a million questions you have about life and death, about heaven and hell, but that's not what you truly want to know. “what's your favorite color? do you have to eat? can you sleep even if you don't have to?”

“well…” rafe chuckles. “i love deep blue. i don't have to eat but i can, same with sleeping. and your favorite color?”

“also blue.” you swallow deeply, eyes turning upward as the invisible force keeps the boat moving steadily in the water. “but sky blue. like on a warm summer day.” 

you're about to wonder if you'll ever truly see the sky again when you can make out a cloud in the distance.

“i-”

“for you.” rafe says as the color of the sky shifts, matching the exact shade you were thinking of. “everything here can be changed for you.”

the conversation flows naturally, you suppose it should between soulmates. every time rafe smiles, you get butterflies in your stomach, and by the time you're back where the river meets the castle, you have a question brewing on the tip of your tongue.

“can we… can we kiss again?” you need to know what it feels like, if it's the same cold lips despite his hands now feeling warm.

the smile comes back to rafes face, and then it gets closer and closer until he's kissing you, deeply.

you almost instinctively wrap your arms around his shoulders, able to fully touch him now as he kisses you, warm lips gliding against each other's.

you pull yourself closer until you can't get any nearer without climbing onto his lap, which you do next as you cling to him.

you thought your friends talking about the instant connection with their one true love was ridiculous, but you know what is between you and rafe is complete and real and right.

there's a woosh of air and when you pull away, you're still straddling rafe, but now in your bedroom.

“please.” he said softly, and the word comes out a little strange, like he's not used to saying it. “i need you.”

your fingers grasp the bottom of your shirt before you lift and pull it off your body, revealing the bra somehow already in your size that the maid got out after breakfast.

rafes hands stop yours when you go to unclasp it. “let me.” he says.

his hands are large and warm as they undo your bra and push the straps off your shoulders so it falls between the two of you.

“can i-”

“yes.” you answer quickly. “do anything you want to me.”

you take rafes cheeks in your hands as you look in his deep blue eyes. “do everything.”

your reaper transports you again, this time only feet as you're laid on your back, head rested against the pillows as he hovers over top of you.

your clothes as well as rafes are completely gone, and you're both silent, breathing heavily as you admire each other's bodies. if someone would have asked you what your perfect mate looks like, you'd absolutely describe rafe in this state.

“i will spend eternity pleasuring you, but you'll have to forgive me for not being able to wait a moment longer.” 

rafes cock lines up with your entrance, and then he's pushing inside, his eyes shutting as he lets out a moan that makes you surge forward to kiss his lips and swallow the sound as his hips glide all the way in, fitting exactly inside of you like he's been your missing part all along.

“you're so- warm.” rafe manages to choke out. “ive never felt warmth like this.”

it makes you sad to think rafe spent so long as the cold and lonely reaper. you pull him into you, pressing your chests together as his hips begin to move, your moans growing and becoming in sync, creating a beautiful chorus even to your own ears.

you don't know what your future will hold. there will no doubt be ups and downs, hard times and great times, but you will face it all together with your reaper, your rafe.

[clairdelunelove]

badges of honor

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

genre: fluff! (sticker drabble!)

warnings: slightly suggestive, cursing, protective!ghost

synopsis: ghost doesn't understand the appeal of receiving stickers, a tangible reward, after the completion of successful missions. never thought it was necessary for his efforts. however, his mindset changes when he finds out you're the one handing them out–

a.n. just a silly lil blurb that floated around in my mind for some time! decided I'd write it and I'm thinking about writing something similar for könig too! hope you're all well! and if you wish to show more support here's my kofi! <3

-

-

-

holding onto the belief that ghost would stubbornly swallow his pride and allow you to decorate him in cutesy unnecessary stickers.

-

it starts with price’s recommendation of implementing a routine of handing out stickers after successful missions. he insists it’s a great way to dial into intrinsic motivation. to keep the task force motivated to dedicate their best into every operation. a way to recognize positive behavior. a byproduct of hoping for the most favorable outcome in war where the only images are bloodshed, conflict, and hostility. it’s a stark difference. “who knows,” price’s shoulders lift into a casual shrug as he addresses the fierce group settled around him, “it might just help you lads.” it’s a harmless and cost-efficient idea to justify the boxes of tangible reinforcements that are shipped to the base. literal cartons of sticker books that range from the traditional ‘great work!’ to ‘prized soldier!’ and the notion seems childish (disguised to be more of a scheme, in all honesty). that is, until the pieces of sticky, illustrated adhesives start working– boosting the soldiers’ determination for the taste of victory– because you’re the one handing out the affordable versions of chest candy. they adore saccharine treats. and over time, so does ghost. 

ghost who initially loathes the new process that price endorses. he’s good at his job. knows he’s an expert in clandestine tradecraft. doesn’t need a miniature label tapped on his chest to recognize that no one does a better service in infiltrations or sabotages in risky environments than he does. he’s in and out like a gust of wind. well, more similar to a grim reaper that takes and punishes whoever he deems fit. a brutish force not to be reckoned with. and he reasons that this little sticker ceremony ultimately wastes time. precious alone time that ghost exploits to catch up on some well-deserved rest or exercise. because training after an intense mission totally makes sense to the lieutenant. yet, he’ll doggedly line up with the rest of the task force and await getting crowned with the bane of his existence. doesn’t wish to stir the pot with price and sit through being lectured. so he stays. and he’s a bit taken aback when he catches a glimpse of you handing out the stickers; a beaming smile on your lips while you press an overly exaggerated thumbs-up design onto the front of a soldier’s vest. 

ghost who rasps, “I’ll pass,” before your fingers can pin the sticker onto him. unaware that his voice would come out grainy from the weeklong mission and, involuntarily, blunt. brash. the complete opposite of how he wished to sound towards you. notices the surprise in your eyes due to the acidity of his voice and how you instinctively shrink from him. he shifts, straight away, and hastily tries to take back his tone of voice. to right his wrongs. to atone for his mistake. however, your nervous movement is swiftly replaced with your usual upbeat nature as you plaster on a grin and dramatically bring the back of your hand to your forehead to mimic a fall, “woe is me.” you exhale pointedly while mentioning, “whatever shall I do with all these stickers then?” and ghost understands that it’s so typical of you to hide your hurt with witticism. you’re too considerate. too bright. a touch of color to his monochrome soul. venturing a step closer to you, he lightly scoffs at your melodramatic behavior and remarks, “woe is most definitely not you. now get up, pup.” and before you can comprehend, his gloved hand wraps around your wrist to gently pry it away from your face. “changed my mind,” he murmurs while indicating to the book of stickers that you casted aside, “pick one f’ me, will ya.” 

ghost who refuses to comment on your shaky fingers to save you from embarrassment. it’s endearing that despite the layers of heavy clothing, you’re still hesitant to touch any part of him. “you’re all set,” you quickly chirp before stepping back to admire your handiwork. or so you tell yourself that excuse. in reality, you’re teetering on the edge of becoming distracted by the heat that he radiates. and he savors how your gaze dances across his masked face but evades his intense eyes. the most profound part of him that reduces you to stumbling on your words like a drunk. intoxicated by him. it’s like he’s drinking you in and allowing himself a selfish taste of your beauty. a thought that causes you to heavily gulp. to take your mind off of the blatant yearning, you teasingly raise the sticker book up to him, “how about I add another one? this one has glitter—” “that’ll do,” ghost interjects and turns to leave. his immediate answer and retreat brings about a genuine laugh from your lips. it’s music to his ears. wagering a glance to his chest, he notes the sticker you chose for him. cursive letters twisting into ‘you’re a star!’ followed by a smiling gold star draws his attention. you don’t spot it but as he leaves, his gloved fingers reach up to smooth the sticker over his vest. to pat it down so it stays a while longer. 

ghost who attempts to convince himself that his disinterest toward the small slips of adhesive paper is still the truth. they’re just for show, right? no one really pays attention to how some of the stickers varied in size. they’re all mature adults. and it was completely unrelated how there’s regular bickering amongst various recruits that compared their hard-earned rewards. doesn’t admit that his chest visibly swells with pride whenever the other soldiers point out that ghost always receives the biggest sticker. purposefully taunts them by stating, “get better then, yeah?” he also fails to acknowledge that you’ve coerced and conditioned him to accept them like a pavlov experiment. after all, your unwillingness to comment on how he noticeably leans over so you can put stickers wherever you wished must mean that it doesn’t happen. and in the scenario where it could perhaps occur, you shouldn’t blame him because ghost was certain no one else had the willpower to brush you away. you with gentle fingers and an angelic voice. singing him a siren song whenever you mutter, “for your excellent work, lieutenant,” as you smooth on another ridiculous sticker. his heart stutters in his chest when he feels how your hand tentatively flattens against his chest. the broad muscle causing you to hum appreciatively before gracing him with a coy smile. an interaction that replays in his mind whenever he’s awake and follows him to sleep. 

ghost who clenches his fist so tightly that his blunt nails bite into his own palm when he overhears a lowly recruit outrightly insult the implemented routine. hears them utter (when you’re out of earshot of course because goodness forbid that they have courage) ‘bullshit’ and how you were ‘off your rocker for putting up with this waste of time.’ and ghost isn’t usually responsive in situations like this. he’s got a covert operation to focus on in about 15 minutes. a level-headed person was far more intimidating and efficient during classified matters. now, however, his heavy boots thud against the floorboards when he stalks toward the recruit. an abrupt wave of darkness and unabridged horror before the recruit is face-to-face with ghost. “problem?” he asks challenges, voice dead and devoid of sympathy. his head slowly tilts and the action creates a dismal shadow over the eye sockets of his mask. ominous and menacing. everything that ghost is infamous for. knows he’s won when the recruit’s apology is nasally and on the verge of crying but their reaction isn’t his personal interest. what he does undertake as his responsibility, though, is when he’s called into price’s office for a debrief. he pockets some of the miscellaneous sticker books that sit on the superior’s desk. wordlessly hands them to you when you’re both briefly passing each other in the hallway. and while you profusely thank him for the additional sets (vaguely wondering what caused the change in his behavior), you playfully press a sticker above the lower portion of his mask– right where his lips are. somewhere new. you leave him rooted to the spot, the sweet gesture sending him into a stupor, and call over your shoulder, “compensation for the stickers!” he watches as you hurriedly dart away before he can react but there’s no need. he unabashedly smuggles more stickers from price’s office in hopes of reaping a similar repayment again.

ghost who reasons that stickers aren’t that bad if you’re the one giving them out. he organizes himself with the rest of the force, a brooding figure that patiently waits in the back of the line. favors being the last one because you’re able to utter more than a few words of encouragement to him. if he’s lucky then you converse and excitedly share your day with him– like you currently are. “want me all to yourself, do you?” you heartily tease him upon noticing that he’s consistently been last in line for the third time in a row. he shifts on his feet, makes a show of looking around at his fellow team members that are filtering out of the room, and deliberately concedes, “‘suppose so.” his frank answer is followed by a flustered roll of your eyes but it’s the genuineness that causes your heart to flip. you force yourself to concentrate on the task at hand– giving out prizes. unsteady fingers lifting at the sticker page, you skim the options before spotting a perfect one. your teeth catch the edge of your bottom lip as you can’t help but question, “you say that to everyone, simon?” his real name on your glossy lips. a prayer that he desires to hear being chanted over and over as he holds you in his arms. the gaze he wraps you in is burning. tempting. exhilarating. you push yourself up on your toes to reach out and place a sticker on his cheek. on the hard shell of his skull mask that you’ve learned will ultimately end in halfhearted chiding because the adhesive is difficult to remove off of it. ghost catches a glimpse of the sticker that you’ve picked. the bolded words of ‘#1 lieutenant’ flashes at him. and the sticker is like a brand you’ve adorned him in. an embellishment that he proudly displays and wears because it’s what you’ve given him. he hums, dark and inquiring, when he leans to graze his masked lips against your inner wrist. his eyes are heady and half-lidded. clouded with a violent craving for you– always you. visibly strains to make contact with your exposed skin by tilting his head to place another chaste kiss on your hand while murmuring, “just to the sweet ‘n pretty ones that I fancy.” 

[beansandsprouts]

Sunshine

Female reader. Sparse use of y/n.

Summary: Growing up, Bucky never thought he'd find his soulmate. Years and years and years of searching. Even Steve had found his. But you were nowhere to be found. Until he was living in the Avengers Tower. Until you happened to join the team.

Warnings: none

Considering making this a series, let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next one. I may consider doing a bit of a rewrite of it all on my other fanfic blog and add in some sweet smut in there. Everything on this blog will be kept mostly PG.

Bucky was irritated. He didn't see why there had to be this big deal about a new team member. And he didn't understand why he had to be there. They hadn't been told much about you. All Tony had said was you were ex-military, and that everyone typically called you Grim. As in Grim Reaper. Bucky had to admit he was curious to know what earned you that nickname.

With a callsign like that, you had to be ruthless. Cold blooded. So he wasn't expecting this cute bubbly thing to practically skip in alongside Tony with a huge grin. Though he could tell that belt buckle you had on was hiding a knife.

He was immediately taken with you. He'd been a heartthrob in his younger years, had no shortage of women throwing themselves at him. Though he hadn't really been with anyone since being freed from Hydra, though he'd seen pretty women. You, however, were completely different.

The warmth of your smile and twinkle in your eyes made his chest warm. He admired the shape of your lips and the way your jaw curved. Even the little glimpse of your collarbone had him tingling with an unfamiliar excitement.

"Alright, everyone this is our new teammate. I'll let you introduce yourself." I gestured for you to step forward.

"Hi, nice to meet you all. Name's y/n but most just call me Grim." You offered a bright smile.

Bucky felt his heart skip a beat when you spoke your name. Hell everytime he heard that name he got his hopes up, and without fail they'd been dashed. There was no way it was you. You were technically a lot younger than him, it'd be ridiculous if you were his soulmate.

Right?

Everyone else immediately greeted you warmly, your sunshiney demeanor immediately brought a feeling of ease to everyone around you. It didn't take long before you and Steve were swapping combat stories. Bucky sat quietly the entire time, taking you in. He was hoping to get a glimpse of your soulmate mark, wondering if it'd be his name written in his messy writing. But your damned long sleeves obscured even the tiniest glimpse of it.

Your laugh was like music to his ears. He felt breathless hearing that beautiful sound and watching the way your face changed. You were gorgeous. Even the way you blinked had him enamored.

He swallowed hard as you giggled and playfully nudged Natasha when she made a joke. You hadn't even directly spoken to him yet and he was already absolutely whipped for you.

After a while, everyone dispersed, and Tony led you to your room. Which coincidentally was right across from Buckys.

He awkwardly stood in his doorway as he watched someone bring two duffels and a box into your room. You didn't have much. He had a feeling you had tactical gear in those duffels and a few sets of fatigues. He had to admit he was a bit surprised considering your bubbly personality. He thought you'd be the type to have a bunch of cutesy clothes to wear when you were off duty. And some pretty things to decorate your room.

Though to be fair you'd basically come straight here from the military. You'd hinted at having enhanced abilities, but Bucky doubted you'd been given the same serum as him or Steve. He had to admit he was excited to see what you were capable of.

You'd dropped the box on your bed and noticed Bucky across the hall.

"Hey! You're Bucky right?"

A bit embarrassed to have been caught watching, he just silently nodded.

"You're also a super soldier, yeah?"

He nodded again and you offered a soft smile.

"Steve's more the talker huh?"

Bucky huffed out a chuckle.

"Definitely." He responded.

It was the first time you'd heard him speak and it sent shivers down your spine and a heat between your legs. He'd caught your eye the moment you entered the common room, and now his room was straight across from his. If you had to describe the situation in one word it'd have to be "fucked." It woukd be heaven and torture to have such a gorgeous man living mere feet away from you.

"Well I look forward to spending more time together. I don't mind silence." You offered a sweet smile. You couldn't help but notice the way his cheeks tinged red at that, which you found incredibly adorable.

This was going to be an interesting experience.

Next Part

[tonixe]

I dare you to do the darkest, dirtiest, most disturbing shit with Coriolanus peacekeeper

⤑ GRIM REAPER

A/N: I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE! UGHH, I love possessive coriolanus, he is so sexy when he has authority, man I love him.

WARNING: p in the v, non to dub-con, love bombing, gaslighting, fear, hitting, kidnapping, coercion, hair pulling, bondage, forced mudpie, oral sex (male receiving), jealousy, cum eating. *** coriolanus being possessive and obsessive.

PAIRING: Peacekeeper!coriolanus x district!reader

WORD COUNTER: 2.5k

Born into the district—born into a life of hardships and pain...you were luckily born to two parents, and though you weren't financially stable you managed to enjoy a happy with your family. You had 3 siblings you had to look after, and whenever your parents went off to work, life was stressful but every time you got to see their faces smiling you were also satisfied.

When you got older you got a part-time job, at the vendor selling food, it was owned by an old couple who graciously gave you the job, though it wasn't a lot of money you took to support your parents. They asked to take a shift that was deeper into the night, so you accepted the offer, needing the money. Holding yourself up at the cart, waiting as you called out for customers, feeling yourself getting tired as the second. Stretching your arms out, as you looked further into the night. The night there were more Peacekeepers out, inspecting the district, it slightly made you feel apprehensive at the armed men walking through the area.

Your eyes hesitantly look and watch their movements, brushing the dust off your aprons, fixing your hair as your hair stuck to your neck from the humid air. Hearing footsteps inching near you, as you looked up...you felt your heart dropping in automatic dread, at the blonde Peacekeeper in front of you. You cleared your throat before speaking up to him, "Could I interest you, Sir?" you asked, your voice quivering as you spoke just to keep a positive tone. You felt his eyes raking you. He nodded, "I'll have that" He pointed, as you nodded. His eyes looked at you as you wrapped it up, "Have I seen you before?" He questioned, you looked up at him, "I don't think so..." You smiled at him, as you quickly boxed it up. "Enjoy, Sir" You put your hand out gesturing for him to take the box, "Thank you," He said, taking the box from your hand, and you felt his rough hands against yours.

You watched as he took his leave...you finally got to breathe, releasing the pending oxygen in your lungs and exhaling through your nose.

From the simple exchange, Coriolanus found himself visiting you at your vendor stall. Though, your introverted nature, you reluctantly started talking to him. You told him little things about your life, but he was smart enough to connect the puzzle pieces that you told him and connect it back to your life. He found your coquettish antics cute...and after your shifts you found yourself spending time with him, and often the districts were hot and humid, spending time by the lakes.

His sky-blue eyes took the appearance of your disheveled form, but he found you still captivating—from your dress strap falling to your shoulder and your light dress sticking against your wet skin. He wanted to take a picture of you to save the memory...but Time after time, he found himself getting slowly addicted to you...his visits got frequent, and he would deliver little gifts or care packages to you such as medicine, food, or water. You were grateful for him doing this, but you didn't want to feel like a burden to him, at first you were hesitant to take the gifts but he would ensure that it was a gift for you.

You didn't think about the kind gestures he would do for you, but you would always thank him for what he did. Soon, his obsession with you was like a disease, it kept on spreading and spreading over time, every time he closed his eyes, it would be just you, even when he worked on his daily tasks, his mind would be infected with pictures of you. He would always prefer to be stationed somewhere near you, he would be observing you as you worked, he hated when you talked to other men that weren't him, and his obsession with you was unhealthy, It felt like he couldn't last a day without or seeing you, sometime he would show up unannounced with a bouquet of roses in his hands surprising you.

The first time it was a nice gesture, and you loved it but it started again and again, his presence was almost suffocating to you, and when he asked you the question, you felt fear of saying no to him. But you knew if you were to say 'yes' it would get worse, so you told him to give you some time to think about it, he nodded but you knew he was displeased.

You had a plan to just run away, but you knew sooner or later he would catch you, you shivered at the thought. Knowing that your family would be harmed in the invasion, your ear perked at the sound of the door, you dragged your feet to the door, opening it up. It was him, a bouquet of roses in his hands, his Arctic blue eyes staring at you. It was haunting, he cleared his throat before talking, "So..have you made your decision?" every word he said made your heart pump faster, your flight response ringing alarms through your body to run.

"Coriolanus..um" you stopped mid-way, looking at him in his eyes, "I do thank you for what you do for me, but—I barely know you, and I don't think we would..be good together" you finished your sentence, feeling an eerily feeling in your gut, "Why" that all he said, you looked again at him. It looked like a shadow was cast, his bright sky blue eyes that he looked at you with, were darkening as he spoke.

"For all I do for you, you choose to deny me" The volume of his voice increases, and you force yourself to look at him as he yells at you, he laughs for a short while, before grabbing your jaw, "I protected you, I have done everything for you" you eyes watered from his grip, "I think you should leave, Corio" you whispered, it felt like whip when you used his nickname in that sentence, he released your jaw. His hand was in your hair down, pulling you down, as you felt tears threatening to be produced, his rough hands pulling on your hair, making your scalp hurt, "Corio..please!" You exclaimed, he started to say something else, every word uttering from his word was like venom to an open wound. He threw down the bouquet of roses onto the floor

Your knee felt weak as you fell down onto the floor, hearing his footsteps receding, and the sound door being slammed closed. Tears dripping down from your cheek, the bouquet of roses on the floor, as the petals were scattered on the floor, it was some sick remember of Coriolanus. Days passed, and you saw roses on your doormat, every day it would happen, and you felt fear looming over you.

Every time the color would change from pink to a deep red, they varied every day.

But you went back to your job, selling at the stand to the deep of night, noticing the tie, you quickly packed the cart up for tomorrow and rolled it back to where the old couple resided. You sang to yourself as the wheels of the cart rolled against the broken concrete before you knew it, you felt a hand wrapping your torso, and something else like cloth suffocating you, you tried to scream, but it went deaf in your throat, succumbing to the cloth as you closed your eyes, fainting into the strangers hands.

Your eyes fluttered open, as your eyes wandered around your surroundings. You felt your legs numb, as you tried to stand up, but couldn't, looking down at yourself, rope wrapped around your body. You tried not to move from the friction of the rope hurting you.

Your ears perked at the sound of footsteps,. "Your finally awake, my dove" He walked towards you, taking a knee when he got a good look at you. His fingers caressed your cheek, "We were meant for each other, Y/N" He whispered, you started shaking when his hands lowered, and you turned yourself away from him before he withdrew from him. Before he grabbed you by your jaw, forcing you to look at him, "Do I scare you, am I that ugly that you don't want to love me, Y/N" You shook your head immediately, "Then why.." He growled, and you felt tears on your cheeks, "Don't try to use your crocodile tears on me, Y/N" He glared at you.

You looked away from him, as you sniffled, "Fuck, you don't know what you do to me.." he traveled his finger over your lip, parting it, as you stared at him. Before he kissed you, his tongue forcing itself into your mouth, you felt yourself crying more, as you bit down on his tongue. He withdrew from you, the trail of blood on his lips. His haunting chuckle echo in your ear, "You fucking bitch" He held his jaw. He stood up from the floor, looking away from him.

You heard the sound of belt jingling, your eyes widening at the sight, of his cock in his hand, "Corio, no..please' you begged, your felt yourself crying more, his footsteps inching near you, he slapped his cock on your cheek, it was degrading. "Open," He said, and you felt your lips trembling at the size, "N-no" you whispered, and he repeated himself again, you turned away before he pried your lips open and forced himself into your mouth, making you gag. His hands were in your hair, as he dragged you against his cock, fucking into your mouth. Salvia dripping down from your chin, his groans ringing out in your ears.

"Fuck, you're doing so good, sweetheart" He looked down at you, as your tears filled your vision, he smirked looking at your vulnerable form, before he thrust himself into you. You felt his hot load going down your throat, "Swallow" He said, and you obeyed, The bitter taste coating your mouth, his hands caressing your cheek, "Good girl" he smiled at you. Before he released your jaw, your eyes looked down at the floor, before you heard him tucking himself into his pants.

Days passed,

He treated you with kindness, gifting you a rose, and caressing your back as you lay on his lap, but you managed to convince him to remove the rope around your body. He would braid your hair, comb it, and treat you like a doll. It kept on happening, you started worrying about your family if they were currently looking for you. "Coriolanus, can I visit my family, please" He stopped combing your hair, and he down at you, "Do you deserve it?" He asked, "Please" you begged, sitting up as you looked at him. He breathed out, looking away from you.

"I deserve it, you kidnapped me against my own will!" You stood and yelled, he just glared at you, as he stood up. His height towering over you, "You don't need them at all, I..can give you what you need. you don't need them" He yelled at you, grabbing your shoulder as he forced you to look up at him. "No, I never asked for you to do anything, you came up to me. You did this just to do it, Coriolanus" You yelled at him, finally using his full name instead of the nickname you gave me, you felt your cheek throbbing, his hand harshly hitting you, before he grabbed you by your shirt, "I will fucking kill you and your family if you leave me, Y/N..do you hear me" He lowered his voice, you were shaking. His eyes softened at you crying, before he held you not a hug and you held him, his hands rubbing your back, soothing you.

"Just not now, Y/N.." He whispered and kissed your forehead, you felt sick to your stomach. The next day, he apologized to you, and you were forced to accept, he covered you with kisses and love, and gifted roses.

A month passed still being caged by Coriolanus, but you got some freedom from him, but you weren't allowed to leave a tall. he had surveillance on you. He always reminds you that he loved you, did kind things with you, and surprised you with flowers like he always did. Red roses everywhere,

You stared at the window, it was fairly getting dark, and no signs of Coriolanus coming back. You wanted to escape but knowing the consequence would be horrible if you committed the act, before you heard stomping from the door, your eyes looking at the furious Coriolanus in front of you. "How many men, have you slept with Y/N" You got up from your feet, looking at him incredulously, "What are you talking about?" before you felt a sting on your cheek, "Don't play dumb with me" He yelled at you, "How many" He repeated himself, "I —none, I didn't do anything, Coriolanus" you sniffled, before he took a fist of your hair, pulling you towards him, "Don't fucking lie to me, Y/N" He growled, "I'm not lying, please" He hit you a second time, this time it was worse, feeling your nose bleeding from the impact. He started dragging you to the bedroom, where he forced you to sleep, throwing you onto the mattress of the bed, you heard him taking off his belt, forcefully tying up your hands above you.

"Coriolanus, please' you screamed, kicking your legs everywhere, "Please-please, stop" you cried as he got on top of you, taking off your pants and panties in the same quick motion. Aligning himself against, before you felt himself inside of you, it was painful, horrible. He moaned against you, as he forced himself into you and out, thrusting his hips against yours, you screamed at him, hitting him on his biceps to stop.

Your screams were deaf to his ears, as he fucked himself into you, his cock tearing everything inside of you, "Please" you heaved, hitting him, his sky-blue eyes staring at you. Time passed slowly, purposely you felt, before he cummed inside of you, you screamed for him to stop and pull out but he didn't. You lay there motionless, dried tears on your cheeks and naked in front of him, "Don't touch me" you cried, flipping to the side away from him. He called your name again, but you ignored him, holding yourself, you rolled yourself into a ball and cried to yourself until you fell asleep.

When you woke up,, you didn't see Coriolanus, you looked at yourself, your bottom still exposed, a reminder of at the ordeal that happened yesterday. You stood up, putting back your underwear and your pants, before walking out of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes still tired. There was something on the table, as you walked, it was a bouquet of fresh roses and a note attached to it with his handwriting.

You covered your mouth, and you fell to your knee and cried to yourself, knowing that he wouldn't let you go...the roses he gifted you are just a reminder of his torment.

[bratzforchris]

Scream (Part I), C. Sturniolo

Summary: Ever since you were a little girl, you've always loved horror and slasher movies. When Chris finds out about this, he decides to indulge you in your deepest, darkest fantasies about the one and only Ghostface.

Pairing: Chris x feminine reader

Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood/gore/murder and stalking/obsessive behavior, fingering, oral (f receiving), pussy drunk!Chris, dirty talk

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: This is part one of a two (or multiple) part work! This part isn't entirely scary, it's more like background for part two, however, I wouldn't recommend this work for you if you scare easily/struggle with paranoia. Your mental health comes first<3 Chris isn't Ghostface in this part but just you wait ;)

You smiled as you pulled your Nightmare Before Christmas blanket closer around you, adjusting yourself in the blanket fort you had made on your living room floor. You were waiting for Chris to get home from filming a video, eager for the night ahead. It was your Friday night movie night, and this was your week to pick the movie. Luckily for you, this particular Friday had fallen on October 1st, which began your favorite time of the year. “Slasher Season” as you liked to call it, ran the entire month of October and allowed you to engage in your guilty pleasure. Ever since you were a little girl, you had loved all things horror. Odd for a little girl? Yes, but then again, you had grown up with older brothers and had wanted to be just like them. 

The sound of rain and chill, autumn air pounded against the glass window panes, making you giddy with anticipation. Between the ambience, your blanket fort, and the soft, orange lamps you had turned on, it was the perfect setting to watch your all-time favorite slasher film with your favorite person. You always watched Scream,1996 as your first movie of the season, due to the fact that it had been the first true horror film you had ever seen and because Ghostface held a rather…special place in your heart. 

You decided to text Chris and ask him if he wanted hot chocolate while you waited, unsure of showing your boyfriend this movie to begin with. Chris knew that you loved horror movies, but he had never really watched one with you, seeing as how you two had only been dating since March. You also knew that beneath his “I’m a tough guy” exterior, Chris was a soft and sensitive guy, and as much as you wanted to share your interests with him, you didn’t want to terrify him. Maybe the hot chocolate would lighten the mood a bit. 

You: do you want hot chocolate? i’m showing you my favorite movie EVER tonight and i want it to be extra special

Chris: that’s a silly question, ma. ofc i do 💓

You smiled, momentarily pulling yourself out of your fort and padding towards the kitchen to make the warm drinks. Your heart thudded happily as you mixed the warm milk with the cocoa powder dividing it evenly between your Grim Reaper mug and Chris’s Pepsi mug. You heard the door to your apartment click, and in came Chris, already sporting soft pajama pants and an oversized hoodie. He slipped his shoes off, placing them with your own by the door, before padding into the kitchen. 

“Smells good.” Your boyfriend smiled, wrapping you in a hug from behind and happily burying his nose in your neck. 

You kissed Chris’s cheek and picked up the mugs, scooting out of his hold and trekking to the living room. “C’mon Chrissy, it’s initiation time.” You giggled. 

“No ‘I missed you!’ or ‘How was your day?’?” Chris fake scoffed, sitting down on the couch as you placed the mugs on the coffee table. “You’d think whatever this movie is has you like, horny or something.”

You bit your lip, ignoring Chris’s comment and plopping down in his lap. “It’s a cinematic masterpiece, actually,” You found the remote wedged between the couch cushions, migrating to Netflix and turning on the streaming service. While you waited for the app to load, you looked at Chris, who had his fingers running through your hair, a sleepy smile on his face. “But seriously, this is my favorite Halloween movie ever. I’m so excited to show it to you.”

Once the app had loaded, you turned around giddily, finding the movie. You hit play and then immediately paused the movie as the infamous Ghostface mask stared back at the both of you. You eagerly picked up your hot chocolate and passed Chris his own, pulling your Jack and Sally blanket over your legs. Chris kissed your neck softly as you took a sip of your drink, fully engrossed in the movie. He had no idea what he was about to experience, but at the same time, he thought your eagerness over a silly Halloween movie was adorable. 

“So, um, what exactly are we watching?” Chris asked softly, rubbing the small of your back. 

“You’ll see.” You smiled.

Drew Barrymore as Casey Becker picked up the white landline phone, and you felt yourself smile with excitement. Between her fake flirty voice to the unknown caller, her cheeky little smile, and then the sound of Ghostface’s voice filtering through the phone, you had to remind yourself that this was a movie as you clenched your thighs slightly. In your deepest, darkest fantasies, the ones you only allowed yourself to engage in during the late hours of the night after Chris had fallen asleep, you were Casey Becker. 

If Chris noticed, he didn’t let on. He just continued to kiss down your neck and rub your back, eyes trained on the screen. It wasn’t until Casey ran out to the pool area to see her boyfriend dead and tied to a chair with his guts spilling out that Chris cringed. “What in the fuck do you have me watching, ma?”

You paused the movie and huffed, slightly irritated that Chris was dragging you out of your thoughts. “You actually don't know what movie this is, Chrissy? Did you grow up under a rock?”

Chris shrugged, studying you as you fake-pouted at him. “Why don’t you let me in on your little secret then, huh? Tell me what I’m watching.”

“It’s Scream from 1996. The Wes Craven one.” You rolled your eyes childishly, shoving his chest. “I’m equating Boston to a rock now, because you’re telling me you never watched this?”

“Nope,” Chris shook his head. “Never.”

“You have no culture.” You joked, kissing his lips and pressing play on the movie once again. 

The scene continued to unfold, with Casey running around her burning home with a knife. Chris cringed a bit when the girl was finally found by the wicked killer as he chased her with his knife, blood gurgling once he slit her throat. As Casey crawled through her luxurious yard, leaving a trail of blood in her wake, Chris finally knew what you two were watching. He had dressed up as Ghostface for Halloween during his junior year, more so as peer pressure from his friend group that was dressing up as characters from iconic horror films rather than because he actually wanted to. 

Chris hadn’t known anything about Scream or Ghostface beyond the white, ghoulish mask when he’d dressed up. He hadn’t even really thought about that night since, but now, he studied you as a twitch rolled through your body at the sight of the masked killer brandishing his knife. You had leaned closer to the television, your eyes alight with the sick excitement of it all. Chris remembered that specific Halloween clearer now; several girls had come up to him during the night, asking for his number. The few that were really brave had even asked for a game of cat and mouse, fluttering their lashes as they subconsciously moved closer to him. Your boyfriend was pulled from his thoughts when he felt you unintentionally grind into his lap, your thighs clenched harder than before. 

“You okay? You’re moving a lot.” Chris asked you, nibbling at your ear as he rubbed slow circles on your upper thigh. 

“Mhm. Why?” You asked, hoping Chris wouldn’t notice the blush creeping onto your cheeks or the real reason you were so fidgety. 

You avoided your boyfriend’s searching eyes, keeping your own trained on the screen. Billy Loomis and Stu Macher were on screen, teasing their girlfriends, which made you smile and grind into Chris’s lap just enough that he hopefully wouldn’t notice. 

“I have a question for you. A serious one.” Chris said after a moment, turning your chin softly away from the TV screen so that you were looking him in the eyes. 

You paused the movie so you wouldn’t miss anything before turning to your boyfriend. “What’s up?”

Chris’s lips curled into a smirk as he kissed your own before speaking lowly. “Do you get turned on by this?”

You let out an unnecessarily loud laugh, shoving Chris’s shoulders. “Why do you say that? Are you turned on or something?”

“Well for one,” Chris began to tick off on his fingers. “You keep clenching your thighs. Two, you keep wiggling around. Three, there’s that glimmer in your eyes that you always have when you’re turned on.” he hummed, thumb moving to mess with the waistband of your pajama pants. 

“That means nothing,” You scoffed, hoping Chris couldn’t feel your rapidly beating heart against his chest. “I’m just…feeling the effects that come with watching a horror movie.” You chuckled nervously. 

Chris said nothing more, opting to trail kisses across your face and neck, hand still fiddling with your pajama pants. Before you could protest, your boyfriend thrust his hand towards your heat. “If you aren’t turned on, why are you dripping on my fuckin’ lap?” he snorted. 

You began to unintentionally grind into Chris’s hand, before remembering his allegations and pulling away. “Shut up.” You grumbled cutely, playfully hitting his shoulder to hide your blush. 

“Do you like the idea of being chased?” Chris asked you, tilting your chin up to look at him. “Being prey at her predator’s mercy? Huh, baby?” With the questions, he began to palm you through the fabric of your bottoms, a toying smirk on his face. Chris’s questions only caused your blush to deepen as you hid your face in his chest, nodding softly. Your boyfriend chuckled as he continued to rub circles on your back. “I think it’s cute.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” You asked, raising your head from Chris’s shoulder and looking into his deep, blue eyes. 

Chris just kissed you softly, running his thumb across your jaw. “I don’t,” he told you, tilting his head to study you. “I have another question.”

“Go on since you’ve already stripped me of my dignity.” You giggled, trying relentlessly to cool your burning face. 

“Would you want to…um, try…something like that sometime?” Chris began to blush as well as he looked at you, judging your body language to see how you would react.

“Like in bed or…?” You asked, cocking your head as your interest piqued.

“Or out of bed if you want,” Chris shrugged, his smile growing. “I wanna make those dirty little fantasies come true.” he added, poking at your side. 

“How would that work?” You questioned. “I’m not into voyeurism, Christopher.” You added with a teasing glare. 

“I could make it work,” Your boyfriend stated, that cocky look that you knew all too well on his face. “Y’know, get a cheap burner and send you creepy messages. Make you feel like I’m watching you 24/7, obsessing over your every move. And maybe, just maybe, I could get a Ghostface mask.” he smiled. 

“You’re serious?” You asked him, the heat between your legs beginning to throb at his proposition. 

“Deadly. Maybe I’ll even get a knife. Who knows,” Chris hummed, sucking on your neck softly. “Where would be the fun in me telling you every detail, though?”

“Wow…and here I was thinking you were vanilla.” You snorted, trying desperately to keep your hormones from taking over. 

Even though Chris fucked rough and often, you never really went beyond the usual sex positions or “normal” kinks. You had only been with him for about seven months now, and as trustworthy as Chris was, you had been rather scared to tell him about your unconventional turn-ons. The idea that he was proposing a game of cat and mouse, one that involved chasing and stalking was beyond you, but you couldn’t say you were mad about it. 

“Well, I didn’t know you were such a dirty girl,” Chris licked his lips, voice getting deeper. “A little slut who gets turned on by being hunted. But now,” he paused to chuckle. “I know what you really like.” Chris smiled, groping your ass. 

“I’m not a…slut.” You panted as Chris traced circles across your damp crotch. 

“That’s denial, hun. First stage.” Chris hummed with a smirk, flipping so that your back was against the couch cushions and he was on top of you. 

Your Nightmare Before Christmas blanket had long been forgotten and had been haphazardly tossed to the floor. Chris began to nip at your neck more roughly now, leaving bruising skin in his wake. You didn’t make a single shred of protest as Chris wedged his hand into your panties, rubbing slow, lazy circles on your clit. 

“Say, baby,” he smiled, voice husky in your ear as he kissed your neck. “Do you wanna play a game with me?”

You nodded, whimpering slightly as Chris moved to yank down your pajama pants and panties with his teeth. Once he had rid you completely of your bottoms, Chris spread your thighs wider, gazing hungrily at the feast before him. Not even giving you the chance to speak or adjust yourself, Chris threw his head between your thighs, lips caressing your slick folds with a warm, rough passion. 

The brunette licked from your sensitive little hole up towards your clit, flicking the bud with a few, fast strokes of his tongue. Your boyfriend spread your thighs wider with his large hands, devouring your pussy like he was absolutely starving. You panted and whined as Chris smashed your thighs closer around his head, making your back arch off the couch. 

“Chris…” You whimpered, tangling your hands in his curls as Chris lapped the juices from your cunt, before burying his tongue back in your hole. 

“God, tastes so fuckin’ good,” Chris moaned. “Little cunt’s all mine.”

Your boyfriend continued to eat your pussy, the feeling of your thighs clenching around his head just adding to the pleasure. Chris moved away from your hole and began to focus on your clit, teasing the nub with small nips and nibbles. You were already at the brink of orgasm and Chris had barely done anything. You threw your head back against the couch cushions, whimpering and writhing under his touch as he sucked on your clit. Little moans left your mouth as Chris slowly inserted one finger, then two into you, the sensations pushing you over the edge. 

“You gonna keep moaning like the slut you are?” Chris teased. “Let’s hear it, baby,” His dirty talk only pushed your sensual noises further as Chris fingered you and ate you out. Your hands were practically ripping at his hair as he devoured you, fingers curling towards the spot inside of you that was a surefire way to make you cum. “You’d think I’m trying to fucking kill you with the way you’re squeezing my head.” 

The way Chris moaned into your cunt was practically enough to send you over the edge. “Please, Chris…” You whined. “I–I need to…”

“Beg for it,” Chris lifted his head from your pussy for a moment to stare down at you, causing your breath to hitch in your throat, eyes practically rolling back in your head. “You never know when the last time you’ll get to cum will be.”

You let out a scream as your boyfriend thrust a third finger into you, sucking and licking away. The combination of his dirty talk, his threats, along with his fingers and lucious mouth had put you in a haze, your mind focused on how badly your stomach was aching with the need to climax. 

“I need your…fingers, Chris,” You panted, your cunt clenching around his hands. “Please.”

“Tastes so good. All mine–all fuckin…” Chris was beyond pussy drunk by this point, lapping up your juices as you came on his tongue. “So fuckin’...mph, good.” his loopy, obsessed groans rocked you harder as you writhed with orgasm. 

You shook as you came down from your high, hands still tangled in the brunette’s hair. Chris used his tongue to clean up the remaining mess you had made, finally lifting his head from between your thighs. His chin and jaw were a mess of your arousal, his blue eyes wide with lust and the feeling of being drunk on pussy. 

“Are you okay, hun?” he asked you, caressing your face. “I know that was…a lot.”

You smiled, your eyes glazed over with the feeling of being fucked out. “That was perfect.”

“Who knew such a sweet, innocent girl could be so dirty and depraved?” Chris chuckled. 

You shrugged, poking his chest. “I’m full of surprises.” You mumbled sleepily. 

Chris stood up softly, kissing your forehead and heading to the bathroom. He returned with a warm, wet washcloth, taking great care to clean up your mess and make you comfortable. Once your boyfriend had made sure you were okay, he tugged your pajama pants back on and helped you into his lap, pulling the blanket over you both once more. 

“Can we keep watching Scream? I need to get ideas.” he smirked, his tone ominous at the things he would do to future you. 

“Baby, if you do that again, we’ll never get through the movie.” You hummed, turning around and cupping his face. 

Chris shrugged. “I need to watch Scream to get ideas to make you scream.” he snorted, poking your sides at his corny joke. 

“You’re the worst, Christopher.” You rolled your eyes, turning back towards the TV. 

“Oh baby, just you wait.”

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxyz @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @bunny-cotton @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @not-phone-guy @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @faygo-frog @oobleoob @runasvengence @aemrsy

note ♡: my taglist is closed for the time being, thank you so much for your support 💐🧸🎀

[drugsorgasmsandcheese]

to kiss and to die | l. howlett

old man!logan howlett x fem!grim reaper!reader

description: in which death has never been so peaceful

warnings: logan’s death, angst, fluff, not beta read, pics used are not mine and were found on pinterest, the use of one latin word so if it’s badly translated i do apologise.

word count: 2084

he was used to people on the richer side of town booking his limousine service. it was a limousine service, after all. so logan didn't think much of anything when he pulls up outside of a penthouse building and a young woman steps into the car, giving her name to confirm she ordered the service.

when logan confirms, she smiles and closes the door behind her. she screams money, but old money. there's class about her and the way she holds herself. back straight as she sits, one leg crossed over the other and her head held up high. he can't help but take her in. he's never been one to care about the likeness of a lady a woman could be, but there is beauty that radiates off her, that is her, that logan can't seem to shake.

her head is turned to look out to the window, gazing upon the lights of the city that never sleeps. she seems observant in the way she looks, like not a single detail could be missed by her and she wouldn't allow it if it slipped by. logan's eyes slip down to the outfit she wears: a short black dress with a slit in its side, a pair of sheer black tights, black leather heeled boots that hugged her calves, and a black leather trench coat. she's slick, she's elegant, she holds herself high and with might.

as he drives, he approaches a red light. the woman takes the time to pull out a compact mirror, reapplying her lip liner followed by a clear gloss. when she's done, she smacks her lips and places the items away. "you're a hard man to find, logan howlett."

logan's eyes snap up into the rear-view mirror as he starts the limousine up again. his name on her lips is like honeyed venom, he can't quite decipher the emotion that lingers in him when she speaks of him like she knows him. his hands clench on the wheel as he drove, keeping the ride smooth as he turns a corner.

"who are you?" he asks, his voice gravelly and gruff just like his appearance, eyes flicking between hers and the road.

the woman smiles softly, an odd reassurance about it as she does so. "a mutant, just like you." she speaks, honeyed tone never dropping.

teeth snarl at her response. "that's not an answer." he's lived what feels like a thousand lifetimes, and he knows that even people like him aren't to be trusted.

"'the reaper.'" there's a knowing look on her face as she, the reaper, confirms her identity.

mutants knew her, the stories and legends that were a tale as old as time itself. a mutant that dealt the card of death, one who escorted mutants into the afterlife, who resurrected those she believed were not quite done with living. she was all four horsemen of the apocalypse, a woman that wielded so much power the world was her sandbox. nothing more to play with. to see her was like to see a ghost - blink and she's gone.

his jaw clenches tightly. "and what do you want from me?" logan all but growls out.

"you seek me out. why?" she questions with such poise in her character that it's hard for logan to differentiate between talking to death and indulging in his own delusions.

her questions hangs in the air for a moment or two, it's not like either one are keeping count. he can't find the words, he's never been good with them. he's harsh, he's a brute, a killing machine. when is there time to talk when you're killing yourself by killing another?

but there's a security in her presence. she's reassuring, it's peculiar. he's face to face with death and logan's never felt so settled. "i'm old, and i'm tired. there's nothing left for me here."

the way she smiles at him was a comfort in his own as he pulls up to her destination, the limousine coming to a stop. "there's plenty left for you, logan." she sits forward, and logan only notices how she never wore her seatbelt. he supposed she didn't have to. "just because you are at war, doesn't mean you can't find peace."

there's always the discussion of god being all-knowing, but what of death? what of the reaper who knows your story, who escorts you to the place you shall forever remain. death knows, she knows.

the woman pulls out a slick, black business card that's tucked between her pointer and middle finger, handing it to logan. he takes it so gently that he scares himself. he's a brute and yet he's gentle when the time comes. it appears to just be a simple black card, but even with his weakened vision, he can feel the indents in it. 'THE REAPER.'

"no one understands pain better than death." she says and logan's eyes are still fixated on the card.

death, such a simple term given the complexity and intensity of the situation. of him, of her. the words ring out in his head, no one understands pain better than death.

his gaze snaps up, his expression stoic but calm, like he's accepting whatever fate she'll grant him. he watches as she leans forward and places her hand on his cheek. he never expected death to be so warm.

"don't be what they made you." she whispers, and he lets out a sigh in content, in relief. the weight of his regrets and his lost humanity have hung on him heavily, his shoulders finally being lifted.

it's been a long time since logan's been touched. he doesn't even know if he's ever been held like this, cradled almost. to be looked at in such understanding. solitude and loneliness have kept him a shell. he chased it out, leaning into her touch, and it's like she can see him. the guilt, the regret, the pain.

"that's all i am. that's all i know." logan replies. his voice is strained, like the battle he's fought against himself, in his mind, has finally come to light.

her thumb runs across his cheek slowly, brushing against his grey beard. "if death is what you wish, logan, don't let it be a slow one. you've been tortured long enough." her eyes lock onto his. "good men don't deserve to be tortured, and you are a good man. you are a man, not the soldier, or the monster, or the weapon they forced you into being."

logan's expressions softens at her words. and, for the first time in his life, he's being given a choice. the choice to die. not as a weapon, a monster, a soldier, but as a man.

his hand reaches up, brushing over her own cheek. death is warm. there's an intimacy behind it that he's craved for so long that logan feels like he's falling apart from the inside out, and it's different from how he's felt before.

"you have my card, use it. death is everywhere, logan, and so am i."

the feeling of human connection. he craves it. being secluded and a shell of himself has made him overwhelmed as their skin touches. "death," he murmurs, his voice hoarse and gruff like it always is "and you."

she nods, her lips twitching. "take care of yourself, superstes, it's not your time just yet." she finishes and pulls away, stepping out of the limousine and leaving logan entrapped within his mind. not at war, but at peace.

—

the next time logan sees the reaper is at the funeral. it’s expected, mutant reaper or not she’s bound to turn up when one dies. but he also knows it’s because his fingers had subconsciously stroked the sleek business card in his pocket.

she lingers by his side and he feels himself reaching out, grasping onto her hand and she returns to the touch. death is warm. their fingers interlock, and it’s a reassurance that she gives him like she did last time. like she can read his thoughts.

it’s not your time just yet.

the thought makes him reach into his pocket, fingers itching to grace the adamantium bullet he’s carried like his guilt for years but he can’t find it. it’s then that he realises the weight that settles in between their hands and he looks at her.

she still wears that leather trench coat, and a part of logan wonders if that’s her very own black cloak. it suits her, if it is. the air of sophistication, of elegance still surrounds the reaper, and another part of logan wonders if she’s always been like this, or if there was a time when she succumbed to her powers and became a beast like he had.

the reaper’s gaze meets logan’s, that same soft smile gracing her lips. “not just yet.” she speaks and logan nods, hand squeezing hers. human connection.

she stays with logan when gabriela lopez approaches him, and a part of her seems to physically soften at the sight of the woman. when he questions her about it later, she only responds with a question of her own. “what did i tell you?”

it takes a few seconds to recall. he can’t tell if it’s from the old age so his brain has wore down, or if he was so focused on being touched and looked at like he was understood that he forgot her words, until it clicks. “death is everywhere, and so are you.”

and all the reaper does is nod, not another word spoken. but she was the one who pushed for logan to accept the job of escorting laura, and he didn’t know why. but there is something so alluring about death that he couldn’t say no.

the reaper stays by logan’s side awhile longer, her scythe hanging over him like a thread. there’s a time when her fingers trace the scars over his skin that his weakened healing has failed to take care of of, and the word is uttered from her lips again: “superstes.”

he’s not quite sure what it means, what language it is, but she looks into his eyes as she says it. not at the scars, but at him. and it touches his soul.

there’s another time in the kitchen. the couple who had graced them into their homes after the accident, where it’s just them. there’s the slow music in the kitchen, and if his old self remembers correctly, it’s ‘dream a little dream of me.’

logan’s leant against the counter as the reaper approaches, taking his hand in hers; an offer. he’s reluctant at first, he’s not really one for dancing, but death is so tempting. the weight of the adamantium bullet in his pocket, the way she follows him everywhere.

his calloused hand slips into hers, and it’s not really dancing. they sway on their feet, her clutched close to his chest and his chin rests on top of her head. death is warm, and this is the human connection he has longed for for so long. he wants it to linger, to last longer, he needs it like a beggar, and logan is willing to get on his knees if he has to.

but when x-24 arrives, she’s as good as gone.

—

he meets the reaper again, and it’s like a setback in time the way her hand is outstretched in front of her, and the words escape from her lips in a promised whisper: “it’s your time, superstes.”

logan looks down at her hand and he smiles. it’s genuine, just like the one in his final moments, and he takes the reaper’s hand without a single moment of hesitation.

even in death, she is a warm embrace.

he holds her close to his chest, and logan can’t help but sway like the lyrics are behind them, and the reaper chuckles, following his movements. his head dips down, nose brushing against hers and logan lets out a sob. peace, all he’s ever wanted, has finally settled down upon him. in his death as he held laura’s hand, he knew what it felt like. to be at peace, to be loved, to die.

now, as he places a gentle kiss on the reaper’s lips, he knew what it was like to be loved by death, to find peace with death, to be kissed by death.

death is warm. death is beautiful. death is peace. death is…all a man like logan has ever wanted.

[shortkingvince]

grim fluffus(important) withrrr ahmmm smut,,,

Hello there!! Thank you for the request! Sorry it took so long to post this, I got possessed by Grim brainrot and went a little overboard. Hope you don't mind!

Irresistible

Warnings: Smut (no penetration), handjobs, whimpering men, very brief dacryphilia? (It's just tears in his eyes from the pleasure, I dare not hurt this babygirl....yet. /j), ungodly amounts of fluff, Grim being the victim of MC/Reader being a little shit (/j /aff), spoilers for Grim's real name, takes place after ending 3

Minors DNI

Gn reader

A comfortable silence spread through the air of your apartment, which you were now sharing with your lovely little reaper. The reaper in question had ended up all but dragging you into the bathroom to do his skincare routine with him, saying that his is probably more superior to yours, which definitely wasn't just an excuse to spend more time with you. Totally not. He isn't clingy, you're clingy. Totally. It couldn't have been because he was waiting at home all day for you to come back from work.

He made you follow his skincare routine (with your own products, of course), it was honestly impressive how he was able to do this every single day without fail. Though, despite the calm atmosphere it was a bit clear he was stressed, likely having overworked himself around the house due to not being used to having the option to relax. He had a tendency to be a workaholic, even before he gave up his whole job to be with you. This struck an idea in you, now you just had to convince him.

You had already been pretty close to him during the routine, but you had carefully been moving closer to him, not that you had to move much. Once you were close enough you gently put your hand on his, not wanting to suddenly overwhelm him with touch since he wasn't used to it just yet, watching his reaction carefully.

As you had suspected, his face had a bit of shock on it along with confusion, his cheeks turning a shade of pink as he questioned you.

“Why are you holding my hand? How are you supposed to do this without both of your hands? Stupid mortal.” He said, averting his gaze as he flushed a bit at your own. His blush only worsened as both of your hands lifted up to cup his face lovingly, tilting his head to look back at you.

“Am I not allowed to take a small break to admire my pretty little reaper?” you teased him, watching his cocky smile take place on his face. “I know I'm irresistible, but I'm sure you can wait until we're done,” he responded in his usual confident way despite all the pink he had on his face from the gentle touch. He couldn't help but slightly relax into it, the warmth contrasting against his cool skin like a calming spell.

Despite his words, he made no move to pull away. He couldn't help but crave your touch, even more so whenever you were away at work. In all honesty, he didn't want you to pull away, in fact, a part of his head was practically screaming at you to just kiss him already. It was something that frustrated him about you but in the best way possible, the way he could never tell just when or if you were going to kiss him, and sometimes he felt he'd have to just grab you by your clothes and pull you into it himself.

He couldn't help but feel a bit of tension from your gaze, not knowing what you were about to do or say. He waited with a bated breath, eyes widening slightly as your lips got closer….and closer…..and…you suddenly pulled away, a smirk and mischievous glint in your eyes as you started to do the rest of the routine, leaving Casper to practically gape at the audacity.

He huffed, crossing his arms. “Dumbass mortal, what in the nine hells was that for?”

“What was what for?”

“The…you know!”

“I don't, actually.”

Casper knew you were lying due to the smirk on your face. He grumbled as he averted your gaze once again, his face deeply reddening. “You…why did you pull away? I thought you were going to kiss me.”

“Did you want me to kiss you?” you replied to him, your teasing tone getting on his nerves while also making him far more flustered than before. He hated how you had him wrapped around your finger so easily.

“Obviously.” He had an exasperated expression, clearly having expected you to actually kiss him instead of leave him hanging. You laughed, making him a little more frustrated due to the embarrassment. As he attempted to open his mouth to speak, you suddenly got close again and put one hand on his waist, the other cupping his cheek as you did earlier as you pulled him in for a proper kiss. Anything he was going to say died on his tongue as he quickly relaxed into the kiss and his frustrations melted away.

As you pulled back his body instinctively tried to chase your lips, wanting nothing more than to be enveloped in everything you could give, wanting to give into his greediness for you. He was so in love with you that it hurt, but felt so good all at the same time. His heart fluttered in his chest as if he were a mortal human with a lovesick crush.

At first, Casper thought any type of relationship was a waste of time, that a reaper didn't have time to be close to anyone. He never understood why mortals spent their time caring about others. That was before he fell for you, and when he fell, he fell hard. How a mere—no, not mere, there was nothing mere about you. A mortal like you being capable of stealing his heart with no chance of getting it back made his head reel, but in all the right ways.

He was soon snapped back to reality as your voice rang in his ears, lifting up the lovely veil of his thoughts he had gotten lost in.

“Grimmy, you good?” You had a shit-eating grin on your face as you used the embarrassing nickname. “Earth to Grim!”

He narrowed his eyes as his expression became frustrated again, sighing. “I told you that name is embarrassing to hear you say in person. You're doing this on purpose.”

“Maybe,” you said with a breathy laugh that made Casper's heart speed up, you were irresistible. So irresistible it frustrated him that you practically bullied him all the time. Maybe bullying is an exaggeration, but he doesn't think so, he thinks it perfectly describes just what a little menace you were towards him.

“You know, Cas, I have an idea. It could help you relax,” you suddenly suggested. Casper arched a brow, awaiting your proposal. “Continue.” He put his hand on his cheek as he waited for you to speak.

“So…you know how I mentioned back when we were doing video calls that I could help wash your entire body? We could take a bath together. After all, it would save water.” You winked at the end of the sentence, practically making Casper go wide-eyed at the thought.

“And here I thought you had forgotten that conversation. My mistake. I completely underestimated just how much you want to see me naked instead of just imagining it.” He smirked, his confidence seeping through once again.

“Maybe I do.”

“...Well I didn't expect you to just admit it.”

“Besides, I can tell you've been overworking yourself around the house today. It could help you relax,” you added, chuckling at the fact he got a little surprised at you practically admitting to imagining him naked.

“And just how is that supposed to make me relax? It seems like it would do the exact opposite.”

“And why would it do the exact opposite?”

“You know why.”

“No, no, please inform me, little reaper”

His face went red, he was so sick of your teasing. So sick of it, yet craved it at the same time. “Well, I….uh…”

Your gaze softened at his hesitance, cupping your hand to his cheek again as you spoke. “We don't have to if you don't want to. I'd never do anything you aren't comfortable with, it won't upset me.”

He relaxed at your words, knowing you were telling the truth. “I'm not uncomfortable with it, I'm just not very experienced with this kind of thing.”

“Wow, I never knew.”

“Really?”

“No, it was sarcasm.”

“...”

“Right, sorry. You're just so fun to tease.”

“I…might hate you.”

You laughed, knowing that he couldn't lie and therefore was having to resort to wording it with unsure language. It was just another thing you loved about him. “So, is that a yes to the bath, or?” You questioned, just to completely make sure. He nodded in response, albeit still a bit flustered at the thought of something so intimate, wanting to go through with it.

A bit of time passed as the water was finally at a temperature that you both wouldn't complain about. You looked over at Casper, a grin on your face. “Are you gonna bathe with your clothes on?” You teased him, only getting a scoff in response as he slowly started to take his clothes off. Of course, he took notice that you weren't exactly undressing at the same time as him.

“...I can't be the only one getting undressed if we're bathing together. I am absolutely not bathing with you if you try to bathe in your clothes.”

“Aww, you wanna see me naked that bad?”

“Huh?! You're the one who suggested the bath in the first place! Gods, you're going to make me lose my mind at this rate.”

“You didn't deny it.”

“Just take your clothes and get in the damn bath.” He responded quickly, getting in the bath once everything was off before you had time to tease him further.

The bath wasn't too spacious, but it was enough to fit both of you if you positioned it right. That's how you now had a red-faced Casper, his back against your chest as he rested the back of his head on your shoulder. It didn't take him long to relax despite his nerves from before, the warmth of the water and your body against him was soothing and made his head feel fuzzy along with his heart.

You washed his body gently, taking in the content sigh he let out from your touch. He unconsciously leaned backwards into your chest, wanting to be even closer to you, as if that were even possible.

Casper wasn't used to being touched, this was just a known fact, but… despite the unfamiliarity of it, he felt…safe. Safe with you, safe in your arms. It was addicting to him, he had never felt like this with anyone before, but then you ended up turning that all upside down. Or maybe…you turned it upright, allowing him to finally be able to see from a more comfortable perspective. Whichever one it was, he loved it. He needed more of it, more of you.

Of course, with how Casper was, he had to open his mouth to say something despite all the fuzziness. “We're taking a shower after this by the way, baths aren't exactly for actually getting clean.”

“Ooh, we? How bold, Grimmy.”

“We are literally pressed up against each other naked right now. A shower is far less ‘bold’. Besides, you're in the bath with me right now and unless you wish to sleep on the floor I suggest you wash the bath residue off of yourself afterwards.” He looked at you once he finished saying that, a satisfied glint in his eye.

Of course, that glint in his eye turned to surprise as you grabbed him by his chin and made him look at you, just as you did earlier, but this time there was a bit more of a gentle sternness to it that made his heart leap in his chest. “Oh? Is that so?” You questioned, amused by the way his breath sped up when you grabbed him. He couldn't get himself to tear his eyes away from your gaze, the way you were looking down at him made him squirm a bit.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” You teased, relishing in just how easy it was to make him speechless. “Just shut up and kiss me again already, you fool,” he said suddenly, frustration clear in his voice once again as he suppressed a whine from escaping his throat. There was no way he was about to whine and beg for you to kiss him.

It felt like his breath was stolen from him when you finally kissed him, his mind blanking again as all he could think about were your lips against his, your hands still roaming over his body as you washed him. It felt like his skin was on fire from how hot everything felt, the water, your skin, his own blood, it felt like too much and not enough all at the same time.

Just when he thought that would be it, he suddenly felt your tongue prodding at the entrance of his mouth, silently asking him for permission. He opened his mouth to give you access, breathy gasps leaving him as he felt your tongue dance against his. His mind raced, unable to think about anything other than your tongue until he felt your hands wander up to his chest.

Casper couldn't help the muffled noise he made as he felt your hands, his chest feeling like sparks were being set off as you ran your soaped hands against the entirety of his chest. He felt embarrassed by that noise alone, but the noise that escaped his mouth once you squeezed his chest made him rethink all of his life choices. He had whined, right into your mouth, and not even quietly.

He felt his heart drop when you pulled away, desperately wanting to chase your lips. A part of him was afraid you didn't like it, until he saw the breathless look on your face. Oh, right. Mortals need air. Plus, your expression told him all he needed to know, it practically proved to him that you weren't suddenly disgusted with him, as if that were even possible. He knows any noise that escapes his mouth is like a gift from the heavens, he just got a bit worried for a moment.

Despite the pleased expression on your face from the desperate whine he made before, there was still a gentle and caring side to it. “Is this okay?” You checked in with him, wanting to make sure he gave verbal consent to all of this, along with making sure he was comfortable. He nodded fervently, his gaze going half-lidded. “Yes, it is. Just do that again, fuck.”

You continued to tease and squeeze at his chest, leaving a trail of kisses around his jaw. His breathing only got faster and more desperate, the poor man sensitive to every little touch you did. You almost felt bad for him. Almost. Maybe you could explore this sensitivity of his later when you weren't in such a small space.

Eventually, you started to trail your hand down, watching Casper’s face carefully for any signs of discomfort. You ran your hand slowly, all the way down to his thigh. His breath hitched as he felt your hand squeeze his thigh, suddenly extremely aware of just how close your hand was to his dick. He hadn't even paid enough attention before to realize just how hard he was, the realization heavily embarrassed him, but he wanted you to keep going.

His thighs trembled, causing you to glance at him again in case he was uncomfortable. The desperation on his face told you all you needed to know. Gods, he was gorgeous, he was irresistible. You let your hand wander to his inner thigh, your hand dangerously close to where he wanted you most. Yet, despite the desperation being clear, you still wanted to make sure one last time that this is what he wanted.

“Is it okay if I–” “Nine Hells, Sunshine, just touch me already before I leave the damn ba–holy shit…” Your touch interrupted what he was about to say, the feeling of your hand finally on his cock making him completely forget what he was about to say. He arched his back into your chest in surprise, the cutest gasp leaving his mouth at the sudden stimulation. He had just expected you to continue teasing him, he didn't think you'd automatically start stroking him the moment he told you to touch him.

“Relax,” you held him gently with your other hand, still gently squeezing his chest as you pulled him even closer to you, if that was even possible. “I've got you, just relax.” At that, Casper all but fell into you, his hand making a pathetic attempt to cover his sounds. The hand that was on Casper’s chest went up to his wrist, gently pulling it away from his mouth. “I want to hear you, love, please don't hide such pretty sounds from me,” you told him, a shiver going up his spine at your words.

You teased the tip of his cock, the action rewarding you with a choked moan from the white haired reaper. He felt like he was gonna go insane from your touch, his hands trying to find something to hold onto. Noticing this, you gently held his hand instead of going back to teasing his chest, his hand giving yours an appreciative squeeze. “Fuck, fuckfuckfuck, Sunshine, please, please…” he begged, not even knowing what he was begging for, he just didn't want your hands to leave him.

“I've barely even touched you and you're already this desperate?” At your words, he whines, shooting you a slight glare before quickly getting caught off guard by your hand tightening momentarily against his cock. “It's not a bad thing, quite the opposite, in fact. Just relax, my little reaper,” you whispered in his ear, a shiver going down his spine.

All of his senses were going crazy, unable to think about anything but you. He struggled to not buck his hips so he wouldn't get the floor wet, it was becoming increasingly difficult the more you touched him. “A-ah, just…just like that…Sunshine…” his soft moans were like music to your ears, his voice was always so beautiful.

You sped up your hand a bit, letting out a small laugh as he yelped from the sudden change, his back arching into your chest again. “Don't…haah, don't laugh…while your hand is on my–ah…uhnn…l-let me get my words out, dammit…Nine Hells, your hand…a thousand curses upon you…I– ah…” He was just barely getting the words out, struggling to keep his mind on track enough to form a full sentence. His cock twitched in your hand, a whimper leaving his mouth as your thumb circled the tip before going back to stroking and squeezing his shaft.

He held onto your hand tighter, eyes closing tightly as he failed to suppress all the moans flying out of his mouth. His eyes began to form tears from how sensitive he was, but when you slowed down to check on him his eyes shot right back open. “Don't you dare stop, don't you–ahn…don't you dare…please…please, just go faster already!” His hips finally bucked into your hand before you could even pick up the speed, his mind so lost in how close he was that he couldn't care less about the water hitting the floor…that would be a problem to clean up later. For now, you focused on Casper.

His breath was rapid as you stroked him faster, his eyes fluttering closed once again as he leaned into you, both from the pleasure and for the comfort of feeling you so close to him. “Ah, fuck…fuck, Sunshine, I'm so close, I'm so–Nine Hells, I can’t–fuck–I can't much longer–” His voice was strained from how close he was, his legs threatening to close from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. He practically yelped when you momentarily stopped holding his hand to hike one of his legs over the side of the tub, increasing the speed and pressure of your strokes as your free hand held his hand once more.

By this point his moans had increased further in volume, you wouldn't be surprised if you got a noise complaint later. You didn't mind though, not when you were busy paying attention to the way your reaper shuddered at your very touch, the way he reacted to each stroke. You deeply kissed him, feeling him immediately return it wildly, as if he had craved it the entire time.

He whimpered into your mouth, the way he was so close made him shake. When you pulled away a whine escaped his throat, his face full of desperation. The way you looked at him made his heart flutter, your gaze was full of both love and lust, he could see how you enjoyed watching him lose himself to the pleasure, and he couldn't get enough of it.

“S-so close…I don't think– I don't think I can hold on much longer, Sunshine, I–” his sentence was cut off by a moan escaping his lips as you gently bit his neck. “You don't have to, my little reaper. You can cum anytime you like, so go ahead,” you said, whispering in his ear. At that, his entire body gave a shudder as he moaned once more, eyes rolling back as he got permission. His orgasm hit him hard, practically gripping onto what he could of you for dear life. You continued to stroke him through his orgasm until it was over, holding him close.

He laid there against you for a moment, catching his breath. He was exhausted, his eyes fighting to stay open. “I'm guessing we need to save the shower for later?” you asked, only slightly joking since you felt he couldn't really stand properly right now due to his tiredness.

“...I suppose it can wait.”

“You up for snuggling in the bed together?”

“Obviously.”

“Alright, I'll help get you to the bed.”

“Wait.”

“Huh?” Your head tilted in confusion as Casper opens his eyes. “I haven't returned the favor…” he said with a bit of concern, not wanting to leave you unsatisfied despite how tired he was. He was shocked when you suddenly started to lightly laugh, confusion evident across his features. “Casper, there's no need for that. You're tired, you need to rest. Besides, pleasuring you was more than enough to satisfy me, you don't have to worry. Let's get to bed, okay?”

“...Okay. If you say so. I'll make it up to you after I rest, though, even if you say that.”

Casper was a stubborn reaper. You knew you wouldn't be able to convince him that he doesn't have to ‘return any favors’, so as long as he rests before trying anything it'll be fine. You dried both you and him off as you both got into comfortable clothes, helping him get to the bed.

Once the two of you were on the bed, you wrapped your arms around Casper, threading your fingers through his hair. He was more relaxed than usual, practically melting into your touch as he snuggled into your chest. It wasn't long before he fell asleep, comfortable and safe in your arms, and there was no place he'd rather be.

[almond-tofuuu]

Maybe dawnbreak! Zayne eventually finds a way to get to the world he 'dreams' about, and meets the mc. (yandere tho???)

Oooh I love this idea!!!! Thank you anon!!!

Hope you enjoy 💕

The Reaper's Embrace

Dawnbreaker! Zayne x reader

Warnings: slight yandere/possessive elements, possibly ooc Zayne/Dawnbreaker (I tried my best)

lmk if I missed anything ☺️

Something was wrong with Zayne.

When you left work to find him waiting for you outside the building, a strange sense of unfamiliarity washed over you, as though your subconscious was screaming about a danger your brain couldn't register. Which was absurd, right? Zayne wasn't a stranger, far from it.

Maybe it was the clothes he was wearing. The sleek, black suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, and the long, dark coat he wore over the top blended seamlessly into the night. He looked intimidating, almost scary, his imposing form striking an eerie resemblance to that of the grim reaper.

You shake your head in an attempt to clear your mind, "I'm being ridiculous! It's just Zayne, so what if he's dressed a little differently. I must be even more exhausted than I thought" after mentally reprimanding yourself, you make your way over to Zayne, ignoring the unsettling chill running down your spine.

"You must've gotten off work early today if you're here to pick me up! Sorry if I kept you waiting" you greet him warmly, soft smile on your face despite the increasing paranoia building inside your mind.

Zayne doesn't respond, his eyes that are usually filled with a tenderness and warmth now appear cold and lifeless, but there's a hint of something else in his gaze, something almost crazed and predatory. It makes your blood run cold, as if the ice of his evol was flooding your veins. It's as though you're in a trance, your mind is begging you to run, to get away from the man in front of you, but your body won't respond, frozen under the intensity of his gaze.

Zayne takes a careful step towards you, one hand slowly reaching out but stopping just short of touching your cheek. He hesitates, as though he's afraid to actually touch you. And he is. He's afraid that this is just another dream, a cruel trick his mind is playing, and the moment he touches you, you'll disappear, slipping through his fingers like the early morning mist.

Zayne has dreamt of this moment for so long, thoughts of you haunting him, consuming every fibre of his being until the only thing he could think about was you, you, you. For years he had been forced to watch you through the eyes of the doctor, taunted by the other version of himself that got to hold you.

But not anymore. Now that he had finally found his way to you, he wasn't going to let you go. The doctor could never love you the way he did. You were a ray of sunlight that broke through the darkness that shrouded his life. You were his saviour, his guiding light, you were his.

As Zayne's hand hovers inches from your cheek, you feel a shiver run down your spine, a primal instinct urging you to flee. But you're rooted to the spot, unable to tear your gaze away from his intense, icy eyes. With a trembling breath, you brace yourself for his touch, unsure of what to expect.

Finally, his fingertips brush against your skin, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your body. His touch is surprisingly gentle, almost tender, but beneath the surface, there's a palpable intensity that sets your nerves on edge. For a moment, the world falls away, and all you can focus on is the sensation of his touch, the way it sends a rush of conflicting emotions swirling through your mind. Fear, desire, uncertainty—they all mingle together in a chaotic symphony that threatens to overwhelm you.

And Zayne feels it too. The warmth of your skin underneath his cold, calloused fingertips is enough to cloud his mind with desire, all thoughts of logic and reason are forgotten as his eyes darken. The tender hold he had on your cheek turns into a bruising grip of your jaw, his other hand encircling your waist, pressing your body tightly against his, strong arm preventing you from escaping. Lowering his face beside your head, 'Zayne' finally speaks, warm breath fanning over your cheek. And although the smooth, deep voice is familiar to you, the darkness of his tone has your body trembling in fear.

"I've waited for this moment for so long. Finally, you're mine. And now that I've got you, I'm never going to let you go."