#( damn i need to write my ghost boy more ;A; i love him SO MUCH )

[darlingkikki]

omg, late to your ghoap post but au where you’re just crying asking if johnny doesn’t love you or take the relationship seriously because he kissed someone else while ghost is sitting there waiting for his kiss. thinks you’re so pretty hiccuping and crying but damn he wants that kiss already

Warnings: Manipulative Ghost, bitch boy Johnny (lmao but seriously), dubcon (mostly for the illusion of choice but the kiss is consensual)

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

I am in a writing funk but I forced myself to at least explore more of this because I so badly want to but my brain is mush :( (not edited so just focus on the vibes)

initial post linked here

Something dark and insatiable claws at the inside of Ghost’s skull. To repress it, his blunt nails bite into his palms. He watches Johnny’s hands cup your crestfallen face, his expression knotted with the heaviness of remorse. Above the sound of your hiccuping questions, he can just about pick up Johnny’s attempts to soothe your broken heart. 

“Course I love yeh. That hasn’t changed.” 

“Nah, dinnae say that. I did a dumb thing. I’m always doing dumb things. It’s nothin’ to do with yeh.”

“I pushed them away, just not quick enough. I didnae do anything more, I promise.” 

He’s unyielding in holding your gaze. His thumbs trace gentle, methodical circles on your cheeks, wiping away the moisture under your eyes. Selfishly, cruelly, Simon wishes you would stop sobbing already so he can take over. Johnny promised him a kiss from you, so a kiss is what he’ll be leaving with.

You seem to be a gentle, sweet thing so far, even with a pouty frown pulling the corners of your lips downwards. Sensitive too. (What other parts of you share that same description?). A few tears evade Johnny’s thumbs. They roll down the swell of your cheeks. Ghost licks his lips, imagining his tongue following the wet trails down to the collar of your shirt.

Fuck, he needs this kiss bad.

If Johnny is desperate enough for your forgiveness, maybe he can push this further with you. Convince him that a kiss isn’t enough. That you deserve—no, need something more. Johnny will be easy to sway. You, however, he’s still figuring out as Johnny calms you into soft sniffles. 

“There you go, now yer ready to meet my Lt.,” Johnny coos. He steps around you, putting his hands on either side of your face and angling you to look where Ghost has been standing this entire time. “Go on, give me hell Ghost.” 

Fucking finally. Ghost doesn’t respond. He can’t. Not when the sight of you has him sucking in a sharp breath. 

Christ, what a sight you are.

His body moves, driven by greed when you stare at him all confused and teary-eyed. His favorite combination.

“Good finally meetin’ you,” Ghost says. His footsteps are heavy against the wooden floor. He hasn’t even taken his boots off.

Johnny’s fingers tighten to keep you looking straight at Ghost. Like a puppeteer, though it’s clear who has the ultimate hold on the strings. 

“Why is he here?” You ask, trying and failing to turn your head towards Johnny. Nope, not yet. It’s Ghost’s turn now and Johnny bows out of the equation.

Their positions have switched seamlessly, like dancers performing around your body. Or soldiers following a meticulous plan only they are privy to. The smell of alcohol leaves your nostrils, replaced by mint and heady tobacco. It's sense whiplash and your confusion makes for an excellent distraction from your heartache. A distraction Ghost can use to worm his way in.

“I’m here to make it better,” Simon answers after a beat. His eyes are devilishly dark, indistinguishable from a starless night sky. Inky like pools of tar. He says your name with the familiarity of a lover. An undeniable hunger laces his voice and a shudder slithers down your spine. 

Oh yes, he thinks, smirking like a starving lion, you won’t need much convincing. Your reaction speaks volumes. Without waiting for your reply, he continues, “Your boyfriend's hurt you, yeah? You shouldn’t let him get away with it.”

He’s right, you know that. To forgive Johnny would only lead to a forever-repeating cycle of tears and heartache. But what choice did you have now? 

The luxury of choosing for yourself is a privilege these men have taken for themselves. 

Ghost leans in until his lips are just a hair’s breadth away. He’s dangling a carrot in front of your face—the answer to all your pain. 

Johnny's grip on your head loosens. Without it, you'd have forgotten entirely that he was still here, acting as the hard place Ghost urges you towards with a coaxing grasp on your hips, leaving you in his cage and Johnny a willful voyeur. 

He’s tied your neurons in knots, effectively cutting off any chance you have at making a less rash decision. He’s infiltrated your senses and made you his prey. No one could fault you for believing him when he tells you he’ll make it better. Let the warmth of his mouth be a band-aid for your pain and a knife in Johnny’s chest.

"Let me fix it," Ghost whispers, just before his lips are about to claim yours.

It's not a question.

[arminsumi]

tattoartist!suguru losing nonchalance when reader flirts with him?

im down bad for him holy hell

Oh, he's falling to pieces, got it bad for the girl he just met 'n he's gonna make a drunk little bet — y'think he's crazy enough to get your name tattooed on him? Or crazy enough to ink his name into your skin?

ㅤ★ wc; ~3k

ㅤ★ note; continuation of tattoo artist Suguru Geto!

ㅤ★ an; aaa!! you got my brain whirring like a laptop... tysm and i hope this makes u blush and kick ur feet as much as i did while writing!! 🍰✨

ㅤ★ tagz; @ohimsummer 💗@fairiesthrum💗 @heartofjasmina 💗 @kwonan 💗 @ghost-buddies 💗 @madamecorbie 💗 @mima0127 💗 @moggleatlife 💗 @natasaa13 💗 @yemmuishomeforthementallyunwell 💗 @wakashudou 💗 @khaothick 💗 @candy-s72 💗 @creamflix 💗 @starriesworlds

ㅤ★ warnings; sum alcohol/drunkenness

“So, was she joking, or am I your type?” Suguru asks, black eyes staring right into your soul.

“Mm, well…” you hum, giving his form a look-over – god, if only you could feel how hard his heart’s beating when you do this. “Maybe.” You reply teasingly.

“Aw, just ‘maybe’?” he groans, now leaning his hip against the edge of the display case that housed the studs and gauge earrings.

“Yeah, just ‘maybe’ – I’m teasing. No, she wasn’t joking; I’ve always had a thing for the black hair, black nails, bad boy look…”

“The ‘bad boy’ look…?” he questions, recalling what your friend had said earlier about bad boys being just your type.

“Yeah, the ‘bad boy’ look.” You giggle.

His heart beats even harder, muttering a naughty little “Well, lucky me.”

“Nah, not so fast – I’m a smart woman.” You warn.

“Oh, are you?” he clicks his tongue in defeat, “Damn, would you believe that my type is smart women? No, no I’m serious… I’ve got a thing for smart women.”

Your cheeks grow hot, the heat spreading to your ears.

“I can assure you that the ‘bad boy’ look is just an aesthetic; I’m really an artsy dork making a living off doodling on people’s bodies.” He shrugs.

“Hm… maybe, maybe not.”

You rub your lips together. He briefly licks his bottom lip. You look him up and down. He looks you up and down. Body language open and alive with attraction, the both of you stand in this air of electric tension that Shoko spies from the other end of the room.

She watches as the two of you giggle like little flirts, observing how totally absorbed the two of you are in each other’s company. When you catch her eye, Shoko gives you a wink and points at her wrist, mouthing “five more” – fair enough, the two of you have promised to get pizza.

Pizza first, boys later, right?

Five minutes more go by – adding to the total of four hours spent at the tattoo & piercing parlor. But despite her discomfort and need for a change of scenery, Shoko decides to linger around just a little longer so that the two of you can indulge in each other just a little more.

But now you're getting nervous – Suguru has you breathless, holding you in a battle of who can flirt harder? which you're starting to lose.

He's captivated by you. This 6’3, tattooed, goth-grunge, slightly dorky man chuckles and smiles like he hasn’t had this much fun talking flirting with someone in years.

It's going well, then your smile trips him up. I know, it’s always the smile, huh? If you see enough of it, you slip… and that’s exactly what's happened to Suguru. He quickly grows obsessed with the way your cheeks look when you smile – the image burns into his memory without him even realizing it in the moment.

No, in the moment he doesn't realize the magnitude of your effect on him. He's just thinking about himself, about you, about —

“I’ve gotta go,” you say goodbye finally, “I don’t want to keep my friend waiting. But you’ll probably see my face here again… she loves dragging me along for these kinds of things.”

He stutters, “Oh! Oh… yeah – yes. Of course. Looking forward to it… maybe next time, you’ll be the one getting ink in your skin.”

“Yeah right.” You smile.

It’s your French exit that makes his heart throb in need.

No, don’t leave yet… I like you – don’t you ever wonder how many acquaintances in your life have thought this when leaving your company? And you’ll never even know.

Oh, Suguru was thinking so hard about asking you to exchange numbers or to meet up for coffee, but he didn’t want to come off as too forward – no, no… he had to maintain his mysteriousness. Or at least, he had to cling to whatever was left of it after revealing his inner dorkiness to you.

*****

After you leave, he wanders in and out of his studio, has small interactions with his co-workers, and doodles ideas for tattoos down.

Throughout all of these things, your face is at the forefront of his mind. Your voice echoes in his head as he recalls every detail of the conversation you two shared. Then he starts smiling softly as he applauds himself for being so gutsily flirty with you… a stranger, just someone, who he probably won’t see again…

A girl with no name.

God, why was he so slow? He didn’t even ask for your name. Suguru groans.

Yes, he probably won’t see you again… not unless your friend brings you along for her next visit. How long does he have to wait? Weeks? Months? That’s insane.

Suguru stops doodling, stares at the scrap of paper, and then looks up at the wall displaying his works. He rubs his fingers back and forth across his mouth.

I gotta.

He looks over to his phone. He reaches for it, takes it into his veiny hand, unlocks it, and scrolls through his list of contacts.

And then he dials his client’s number. Shoko Ieri.

*****

Now, it’s been just under an hour since you and Shoko left the tattoo parlour. She’s complained three times about the pain because exactly three times she has leaned back on the seat – squishing the fresh ink wound against her chair. You just cruelly laugh at how her eyes twitch in pain and each time.

The two of you sit eating pizza.

“He liked you. Why don’t we go back and you ask him for his number?” she teases.

“No way… he’ll think I’m too forward.” You shake your head.

Then three minutes later, Shoko's phone goes off. She reaches into her backpack. She looks at the caller ID, then at you, then at the caller ID, then –

“… is that him?”

“It’s him.”

“What’s he calling for! Me?”

“Absolutely he’s calling for you – I can bet gold on that.”

It stops ringing. She tells you she’ll text him back but guess what? She doesn’t even need to, because he calls again.

“Relentless.” She giggles. “I’m answering.”

“Pretend I’m not here!”

She winks at you and answers, “Hey, Suguru, what’s up?”

The two of you lean in until the your foreheads press together – it’s still hard to make out every word.

“Yo.” You hear his smooth voice coming from the other side, “Sorry to bother you… (muffled)… your friend (muffled)… so embarrassed, so don’t tell her that I’m calling… (muffled)… what was her name?”

You clap your hand over your mouth when you hear those snippets.

She gives you a devious look before saying, “Oh! Well, she’s right here with me, actually, so you can ask her yourself.”

Mouth full of pizza, you freak out and X your arms to signal a fat NO WAY SHOKO! and fall to pieces all with the taste of pepperoni on your tongue.

But she just hands the phone over to you anyways, then proceeds to silently laugh as you spit out your pizza before talking.

“Hehlooo?”

“H-hey.”

You get right to the point. “My name’s Yn…”

“Oh… I like that… I’m Suguru.”

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Suguru. Suguru Geto.” He raises his voice.

Cheek hot against the screen of his phone, Suguru is silently freaking out at the tense silence. He can feel his stomach starting to flip. His mind blanks.

“Anyways! Um, that’s all.”

No. That’s not all. He has a novel’s length worth of things to talk about with you.

At this point, Shoko rolls her eyes at the two of you being so awkward on the phone and decides that she needs to take matters into her own hands.

So she snatches the phone from you.

“ – Suguru? Say, you wouldn’t be free on Saturday, would ya? Yeah, I’m going on a date with this guy… and I’d love to make it a double date with you and Yn if you’d like to –”

You hear him stutter out a yes, absolutely before Shoko can even finish her sentence. She grins.

Suguru can sense that the two of you are smiling and giggling. He can predict that the two of you are probably going to gossip about him being the 'dork from the tattoo parlor that called not once, but twice for the name of a girl he just met' – but he doesn’t care. He’s been presented an opportunity and taken it.

To hell with seeming too eager.

When the call ends, Suguru blows out a breath through his lips. Then he promptly texts his best friend. Dark strands of hair slip out of his sloppy bun as he puts his face over the screen, thumbs swift and eager.

Toru 🤞😜 lol bravo... but i thought u said she was out of ur league??

Sugu i mean... yes. she's way too pretty and smart for me. but i'm not gonna pass up this opportunity

Toru 🤞😜 still can't believe u called ur client just to get her friend’s name... lol

Sugu you would understand if you met her ok

Toru 🤞😜 damn she must be something else

Yes, yes you are something else — Suguru can’t even begin to describe why. Translating his thoughts into words isn’t his thing; he translates them into art.

****

It's later in the day. You're lazing around Shoko's apartment.

She confirms the time and place of the double date, and cackles on her couch while kicking her feet, teasing you for being so crazy about a guy you just met – her tattoo artist.

You just couldn’t stop talking about Geto Suguru.

“Shiiit, should I even let you and a bad boy like him be alone in a room together?”

“I can control myself.” you assure her.

She slowly shakes her head at you.

“Yeah right… but can he? I don't trust neither of you... miss crazy and mister crazy... you might just wake up with his name in your skin.”

You giggle to yourself, biting your thumb. “Maybe…”

“Oh girl…” she groans, causing you to giggle into yourself, “You’re gonna be licking the tail of his dragon tattoo by the end of the date tomorrow.”

“H-h-he has a what? And where?” you stuttered, lashes quivering.

She shakes her head at you. “God, you’re screwed…”

*****

It's Saturday night. The bar's more alive than ever.

You've learned that Geto Suguru does, in fact, have a dragon tattoo inked up his toned arm – and a tight-fitting black tank top that shows it off along with his martial artist’s physique, too.

He’s got a glint of the devil in his black eyes. Softly-delivered dirty jokes ready to roll off his pierced tongue. A habit of tilting his head and looking hungrily at your lips and neck.

“Martial arts, huh?” you ask with stars in your eyes.

“Mhm, I could teach you a few things.” He purrs in reply.

Your stomach starts squeezing and flipping – that’s got to be the flirtiest 'mhm' that you’ve ever heard in your whole life.

“You think so?” you purr back.

Now it’s his turn to feel that squeezy, flippy feeling in his stomach.

Fuckfuckfuck is all he could think when he looks into your eyes.

I’m gonna fall to pieces. You’re gonna be the death of me.

“Uh…  do you two need some privacy?” Shoko teases.

Oh. It’s a double date. How could you forget? Shoko is literally sitting beside you at the bar with her date. But for a second there, it really felt like it was just you 'n this deliciously tattooed bad boy.

“Maybe.” Suguru chuckles coyly.

“There’s a hotel just next door…”

“Shoko!” you scold, playfully shoving her arm.

She giggles into herself, sipping down her cocktail innocently as if she didn’t just electrify the air between you and Suguru. His throat’s tensing, foot’s tapping up and down on the bar stool – boy’s got long spider-legs, huh?

Now after that, Suguru grins wider – showing off his pretty canines – his posture assuming something self-soothing; he holds his elbows, arms squished against his ribcage, which just makes his biceps more pronounced. Oh why, why did he have to wear a tank top like that? Surely he’s aware of the effect it has on girls. Or maybe he’s oblivious…

Nah. He's not.

*****

“Did it hurt?” you ask, trying to blink out the tipsiness from your love-drunk eyes but you’ve got three cosmopolitans surging through your veins.

“Not really… I’ve got great pain tolerance.” Suguru replies.

“Oh really?” you blink up at him again and his mind goes blank.

“Look at that...” He murmurs softly, not breaking eye contact with you. Where’s your friend and her date? Who knows. It’s just you and him now – and that’s all he wanted.

“Hm?”

“Not every day I see eyes like that…”

You widen your lips into a smile, “You’re laying it on thick.”

“Am I? Sorry – see, this is what happens after you feed Suguru too much rum. I just can’t keep my mouth shut.”

“That’s terrible… need someone to shut ya up?” you flirt.

He tilts his head at you, loose strands of hair shifting across his cheek. His left brow quirks up – he’s so taken aback by your forwardness but he falls right into it.

You just giggle flirtatiously after making that comment and pull the straw of your drink between your lips, sucking the remnants of a cosmopolitan into your mouth as sensually as you dare to in front of a bad boy who’s got bedroom eyes on you.

“I think I could do with some shutting up…” he admits.

“Mm,” you hum, “y’think by our third date you’re gonna snap and kiss me hard like we’re in a movie?”

Suguru smiles bashfully and looks down into his drink, swirling the melting ice cubes with a straw – slowly, round and round, they clink. Then he draws his gaze back to you, catching you with a sultry side-eye, and now it’s not just the ice cubes that are melting.

“Nah-uh…”

“Nah-uh?” you question.

“… I think it’s you who’s gonna snap first.” He says.

“Wanna bet?” you tease.

“Sure. What’ll be at stake?” he asks.

He keeps his sultry gaze on you as you look off to the side in thought for a moment. Your friend’s joke echoes in your mind.

“… you might just wake up with his name in your skin.”

Then you look back to him – his heart throbs but he’s trying to keep it together here, pulling his straw to his lips to get a sip of whatever rum still exists in his glass.

“Loser gets a regrettable tattoo?” you suggest.

He looks at you with a little bit of disbelief at your boldness.

“How regrettable?” he questions, one eye squinting shut in suspicion. He's wondering just how wild you actually are.

“Like my name on you? Or vice versa.”

He covers his mouth and lets out a chuckle hearing this. “You want me to tattoo my name on ya skin?” he teases. “Sure, I’ll bet on that.”

You can’t believe that he’s matching your crazy.

You stutter, replying only after a lingering moment of hot eye contact, “… there’s no way I’m gonna snap first…” you say boldly, proceeding to pop the cherry of your drink into your mouth and eating it right in front of the poor boy’s eyes. “ ‘m gonna have you walkin’ around with my name on you.”

Eyes glued on your lips, his breath catches in his throat.

“Yeah?”

Ooh, there it was. That feeling. That body singing electric songs feeling… that tummy-tightening, blood-rushing, skin-flushing feeling – it hit him all at once. He knows that if he were standing, his knees would have buckled now for sure, or at least he would have felt the tremor of your words under his feet.

He’s unsteady – smiling uncontrollably, looking dishevelled and softly drunk. Those rouge lips are begging to be kissed.

The bar grows quieter and quieter.

You’re hardly able to call each other anything more than strangers, and yet you’re leaning into him, closing the distance.

The tips of your noses are just inches apart now. You’re in each other’s air. He eyes out your lips, feels your hot, liquor-scented breath tickle his face.

But when you try and close the distance, he raises his hand and presses his thumb against your soft lips, stopping you.

“What happened to that bold statement, huh? Keep it together, baby; the bet’s on.” He feathers against your face.

*****

Tumbling into Shoko’s apartment after a night out drinking, you smile and giggle into the pillows of her bed.

She’s letting her hair down and swapping out her tight dress for jammies when she looks at you in your gleeful state.

“Someone’s in love.” She teases, coming over to tickle you.

“I’m not in love!”

“Oh, quit the act; I saw how the two of you said goodbye – you could barely hold yourself together. Drunk or not, I ain’t seen two adults giggling like that before.”

“Sh!” you swat her, “Not! In! Love!”

She takes a look into your eyes and observes your smile, then shakes her head. You're drowsy, so you make a dive into her bed and fall asleep almost instantly.

Shoko pulls a blanket over you, affectionately ruffling your hair.

“Madly in love, at the very least.”

[lomltrentarnold]

someone — jude bellingham  ₊˚ෆ

contents: 1.6k words, fem!reader (she/her), fwb!bellingham is down bad, lil angsty but happy ending, they like each other so much SIGH

🍓 hana’s note: hi my loves!! hope u enjoy <33 i actually had fun writing this, please tell me what u think 🫶 sorry if nothing makes sense LOL

📞 main masterlist!

Jude was sure that the muscle on his wrist had gotten stronger in the span of three days. He moved to check his phone again for the hundredth time that day. The whole situation feels like a thirteen year old boy waiting for his girlfriend to reply to his text. 

The only difference is that he’s twenty one years old, and his ‘girlfriend’ is not actually his girlfriend. 

His gloomy mood attracted his assistant who was off clicking the keyboard computer.

“Whose text are you waiting for?” they asked, immediately bringing him out of his little pity party.

His heart stuttered, “No one.” he replies, shaking his head, before tucking the phone away into his pocket.

A skeptical look was thrown, “Yeah, sure.” 

Jude took a minute before he relented, “She’s…someone.” he sighed, not really in the mood to throw up his gut to his assistant.

He ran his hands through his hair down to his face, frustrated.

They were sure this ‘someone’ was not just anyone, “The same ‘someone’ who had you giggling and kicking your feet last week?” his assistant smirked, noticing the little smile that Jude always wears every single time he stares at his phone.

But not in the last few days.

Recently, he has been more sad when he stares at his phone.

Heat trailed from the back of his neck to his cheeks, “I was not giggling and kicking my feet.” tummy twisting with nerves.

“Oh, you so were. She has you wrapped around her fingers, Bellingham.” the keyboard clicking stopped, as a teasing smirk was sent his way.

Jude’s heart made a backflip–oh she definitely does– “She’s just.. special. And I really really like her.” his cheeks heating up more as your pretty face fresh flashes in his mind. 

“So? Why don't you ask her out on a date?”

He sighed, “I would, but she’s ghosting me.”

“Someone ghosted THE Jude Bellingham? Damn, your ego must be hurt.” they laughed.

Jude took a deep breath, “It's not about my ego, I just–” he paused, “I thought we were going somewhere, I like her and I thought that she liked me but I guess...” his voice trailing out as sadness coats his words.

His assistant noticed how Jude’s head dropped in disappointment, immediately feeling bad for him, and an idea lightbulb immediately went off, “Go to her place then.”

“What?”

The assistant shrugged their shoulders, “Go to her place. Ask her out.”

He coughed out, “She doesn’t wanna see me.”

“Ask her face to face, get confirmation. If she really doesn’t wanna see you then, fine. But try at least! Fight for her!” their encouragement send Jude into a full dedicated state. Already having a full plan in his head.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Screen lights from the tv illuminated your already dark room with a movie playing in the background. You really should be asleep right now. But your mind was too cloudy with a certain, seriously attractive, very sweet and nice footballer. 

What did you think was gonna happen?

Getting into a friends-with-benefits with someone you harboured a big fat crush on was not the brightest idea. 

Jude is a bigshot footballer, everyones’ starboy, all he needs to do is smile and all girls fall to his feet (including you). The strategy of pushing him away was pretty solid, considering that he might not even notice that you haven’t been replying to his texts. 

He probably has hundreds of girls on his phone anyways.

Not that you care, he can do whatever he wants, he’s not your boyfriend. 

Not your boyfriend. 

Then why does it still bother you?

A sudden knock, broke you out of your spiralling session, shooting your heart rate up. Who knocks at 2 in the morning?

A buzz from your phone alerted you.

—

bellingham :)

I’m outside your apartment

I need to talk to you

—

You contemplated opening the door, what do you even say to him? Another knock. 

Another buzz.

—

bellingham :)

Please.

—

The door swung open and Jude was met with the sight of you, with tired eyes and a scowl on your face. You don't look too happy seeing him, and he doesn't blame you.

“Are you insane?! What do you want, Jude? It’s two in the morning!” you huffed out, taking his wrist and pulling him inside. You do not want to get a complaint from your old cranky neighbours. 

Both of your hands tingle the second it touches, fingers twitching as you hope the other doesn't notice. You move to pause the movie, hands gravitating towards the blanket on your couch before draping it around your shoulders. Trying to cover up your well-loved worn pyjamas.

You look like a mess. 

Jude’s hand sweats in his pockets, his heart was pounding after finally being in your presence. With your messy hair, pretty droopy eyes, paired with your profile being highlighted by the tv. His heart rate shoots up when your eyes meet his. 

You look really pretty.

Focus, Bellingham!

He awkwardly coughs, trying to cut the thick tension in the room, “You still watching that show?” he voiced out, hand gesturing to the tv behind you. 

It was a show recommendation from him. You had made fun of it at first, but then the plot was too good to be ignored, you needed to know how it ends. 

You shrugged your shoulders, “Yeah, I was curious.” voice small as your hands tightened around the blanket, bringing comfort to you.

A beat of awkward silence went on.

And Jude has had enough of it and decided to go for it, head first, no thoughts.

"Why are you ignoring me?" he finally said, saddened brown eyes met yours. You can feel your defence chip away the more you look at him.

You avert your eyes immediately, trying to formulate words, "I'm busy."

"That you ghosted me for three days straight?" he scoffed.

"Jude-"

"I don't think you understand how much you’re in my head." his voice shook, heart trembling in his chest, “I wake up and my first thought is to check if you have texted me back and you know how embarrassing it is to not see anything?"

You scoffed, “So this is about your ego?”

“No! I didn’t say that–“

Another scoff, "Jude don’t lie, you get messages every single day. Your notifications are always flooded! Don’t act like I’m suddenly special!” you rolled your eyes, lungs burning with anger.

His face contorted into confusion before turning into hurt, “Did I give you that impression? That I don't care because you’re not special?” Jude’s voice cracked, maybe it was your head playing tricks but you swore his eyes were glossy with tears. 

Anymore second looking at him than you might just break. 

“Jude-” you started.

“Because I do! I’ll buy you more flowers, pick up your favourite coffee, watch those reality shows that you love so much, we can have a picnic or even a fancy dinner!” he rambled, hands animated as his feet started to move towards you, eyes pleading. “I really want this to work. I want to be in your life, as your boyfriend.” 

The distance between two got so small that you can feel his warm breath hitting your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

He smells like mint.

Did he chew one before he got here?

The call of your name hits your ears, his voice soft and sweet. You really like how he says your name. You miss it. You like him. You miss him.

“Please say something.” Jude whispered, eyes involuntarily dropping to your lips, cheeks warming under his gaze.

“I really really like you.” you softly said, nothing but a whisper but it sends just into cloud nine.

His eyes shined, mouth already opening to say something before you cut him off.

“But-“

His heart dropped.

“But?”

“Jude, you can literally have anyone you want in the world!” you raised your voice. Tears pricking at the edge of your eyes. Why does he have to be so complicated? Why won’t he understand that you will never be enough for him?

By now, he can have a general sense on why you ghosted him. You have been insecure and worried ever since this little relationship started. Jude partly understands it, his popularity is intense and the media is poking at every nook and cranny of his life. Judging at the littlest things he does.

But he also doesn’t understand because-

“But, I want you! Don’t want anyone else!” he exclaimed, big calloused hands move to the sides of your face, thumb softly running on your cheeks. “I want you.” he added, softly pressing a kiss at the apple of both of your cheeks.

A lovesick smile broke out on your face before you can even control yourself. “I want you too.”

Jude eyes twinkled at the sight. His heart elevates in the process. Was this a dream?

“Pinch me.” he snickered.

Your hands move around his waist to pinch his skin, “Dork.” you giggled, his smile getting wider at the sound.

A comforting silence blankets over you both. Smitten eyes staring at each other with heavy yearning. Hearts fully enamoured with the other.

A soft kiss was planted on your lips, tender and gentle as his hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He can’t get enough of you.

Your whole body was on fire. It has been so long since you both got together.

“Jude-“

“Mhm.” he hummed, lips still pressing against yours. His hands wander to wrap around your waist. It feels like he wants to eat you whole.

He definitely does.

You carefully pull away, chuckling at the small whine that leaves him as he chases you again, “It’s late.” you affectionately scolded.

“Let’s go to sleep then.”

“Together?” you teased.

“Yes, please.”

Well, how can you say no to that?

reblog for a kiss <3

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hi Hal!

Congratulations on finishing all the requests (there were so many good ones!!) and thank you for opening them up again!! I’m excited to see what you have in store for us with all your other projects, bestie!!! 😊😊

I was unsure of who to request at first because there are so many good ones but then I saw Hesh’s name and an idea hit me.

If you’re ok with it, could you possibly write one for Hesh where the reader is part of the Ghosts has been taken/captured by the Federation and after some time, they get intel on where she is so they go out to rescue her and she and Hesh are reunited? I don’t know if you want it to be a pre-established relationship or one where they both admit their feelings after they get her back, so I’m leaving it up to you. But I need a little rescue/reunion fic to fill the void in my heart that the ending of Ghosts made.

As always, feel free to change it up as you see fit and do whatever you want. I just think that Hesh deserves more love and I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing Riley again (aka: the best dog in the world)!!

Thank you and remember to take care of yourself and I appreciate you and your work!! 💕💕 Love you, bestie!!!!

Lengths Of Love

PAIRING: David 'Hesh' Walker x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You'd loved Hesh for as long as you can remember, and you'd pulled him out of trouble for even longer, but you'd never had the courage to tell him how you feel. Until you do. Until you're being dragged away from his broken body.

WORDCOUNT: 10.7k

WARNINGS: Major spoilers for CoD: Ghosts, heavy angst, blood, guts, descriptions of wounds, canon-typical violence, weapons and firearms, death, torture involving: drugs/hallucinogens, physical violence, mental stress, talks of PTSD, anxiety, paranoia, rescue fic, best friends to lovers plot, wounds that would 100% kill you that you live from (plot armor fr), etc.

A/N: Bestie, I don't know what you put into your prompts, lmao, but I always end up writing so much for you!! Thanks so much for sending something in <3<3

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The beginning of the end started with good intentions and one statement. 

“You hear this? It’s Rorke. He’s here. They’re evacuating on the train system below.” Hesh’s green eyes darted to you and Logan, his painted face a collection of rage and surety. The three of you were, in an instant, in agreement of revenge—there was no question as to what had to be done. Merrick couldn’t stop you, not on this. 

Rorke had made one of the most dangerous decisions of his life, and that was underestimating the Walker boys and their partner in sinful crime. 

“Harp,” you look away from the body of the warhead as it enters the atmosphere, locking onto Hesh’s hard eyes; the ones that had grown steadily colder since the death of his father, Elias. But it wasn’t just him—the patriarch had been close to you as well. The knowledge of his passing, witnessing it as the rope restraints seared into your flesh, had lit an all-consuming fire in your gut.

Like hounds, the scent of blood had hit the air. 

“Let’s get the bastard. Now or never,” you ease out, and Logan darts his gaze down to you from behind his balaclava. 

“Damn right,” Hesh barks, nodding firmly to you.

Anyone would have missed the way your gaze lingered on him as he darted off and began rushing down the stairs from the control room, Logan ever quick at his heels. But they wouldn’t have missed the way your breath pushed out a soft sigh as your eyes kept locked on the back of Hesh’s head as you followed after. 

You’d been childhood friends since practically infancy, a neighbor to the Walkers. It was natural that Hesh would grow to be the object of your daydreams ever since grade school; a constant and digging knife into your heart when he’d repeatedly pick other girls over you.

But such was life. 

All that mattered now was bringing down Rorke, silly love could wait.

“Merrick,” Hesh yelled down his line, the world outside this building rampant with open war. “The missile’s away and we’ve got a lead on Rorke, we’re going after him!” 

The white double doors meet the three of you as you all rush to them, and the panicked man’s voice flashes down the line immediately. 

“Negative Hesh! You three get back here and return to the rally point. We’ll track him down together.”

You call, “Isn’t an option, Merrick. We can’t let this one go.” 

You and Hesh ram your shoulders into the doors, Logan darting through first with his weapon drawn down the hallway. The brunette’s and your shoulders brush in a jostling of gear—pulling the back as your eyes lock. Cold light seeps from overhead, metal under your feet clanking in-key.

You look away before Hesh agrees and levels with the Ghost over the line to push your point. “Sorry, Merrick. Your mission is complete…ours isn’t.”

Federation heads pop up from behind makeshift barriers of barrels and other stacked items and as you all enter and clear rooms, alarms blare with the ferocity of fighting lions. Hesh keeps by your side, offering you openings that you greedily take as another soldier falls with a stiff twitch of your finger on the trigger. 

Darting behind cover, the man slams to the space beside you, calling over above the noise and the whizz of bullets.

“How long till impact?!” You shove a new clip into your FAD, brushing sweat and blood from your cheeks, smearing patches of your own paint. 

Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you hear Logan pushing the line. You dart out of cover to help—locking onto hostiles and backing up the younger brother with quick feet.

“Eight minutes, Hesh! You got a plan that doesn’t leave me with scorched hair?” He finds it in himself to laugh, clocking a soldier to your left and riddling him with bullets. 

“We need to get to that train, Harp. Don’t worry—I’ll kiss the burns away for you.” He rushes past and sends a smirk over his shoulder. You’re left stunned for a second, wishing that the teasing tilt to the older brother’s words was more than that. You blink, and the feeling is forced away.

Later.

“Keep pushing, Logan,” Hesh moves on. You all sprint down descending ramps, farther and farther underground with every step; adrenaline building to a breakneck level like weight slowly being added over and over to a chest. “We need to get to Rorke!” 

You didn’t want to tell him, but, while revenge was on your plate as well, this was a very reckless idea.

As you grab for a grenade from your belt and jerk on the pin, you chuck it down the way and call out a warning to the boys, who, like a well-oiled machine, dart and wait for it to detonate. Bodies fly, bloody splashes of torn limbs, and three Ghosts materialize from the smoke with masked and painted faces; eyes like fire and veins boiling. 

“Fire team suppressed in 3-1,” Hesh shouts through the line as you slide your knife into a man’s eye, his goggles breaking in a shattering of glass. “Advancing to loading bay!” 

There’s a large elevator ahead for transporting crates, and all of you jog inside as the gate creaks shut.

Merrick’s stiff voice replies, “Roger that.”

Silently, you click into the channel and mutter out as a moment of relative peace coats your body like a blanket, even if for a few small seconds. 

“I’ll keep ‘em safe,” a small twitch of your lips, “Commander.”

A deep and unimpressed voice wafts into your ear with a large sigh. “Know you will—just remember to keep yourself safe in the process, Kid…Don’t do anything stupid.”

You shift your gaze to Hash and find green already staring at you. Blinking, the man quickly darts his vision away and after a moment you turn your face back down to the connection and huff through a burning epidermis.

“Haven't you heard?” The elevator shows the train as it descends down, and you call to the boys, ‘six minutes’, with a firm voice. 

“Stupid seems to follow us three everywhere.”

Hesh points as the figures of more soldiers walk around below. “There’s Rorke’s train, straight ahead!” Sure enough, the worm of black and gray metal extends to your eyes across the large room

“He’ll be on there soon. Logan, take left.” You order and the brown-eyed man nods from beside you, shouldering his rifle and checking the clip. “Hesh?” 

“Taking right—you got Point, Doll.” He stares at you, licking his lips. “Clear the way?” You tilt your head at him as the elevator jumps to a stop, the barrier sliding away. It pains you to look away.

There were so many things you had to tell him. Too many things. 

“Always.” Shiting your face forward, you take a breath and take notice of points of cover, scoping the room in three seconds flat. Screeching wheels and alarms ingrain your eardrums. “On me.” 

As you head out first, fire the first bullet, the two peel off in opposite directions, Hesh only sliding up beside you and uttering into your ear.

“Be safe.” 

That comment makes you want to be anything but, if only he’d whisper into your ear like that again. 

Clearing the room, you can’t get your mind off the fact that this crush was overtaking nearly every part of your life—years of quiet agony and staying your tongue in fear of losing what great friendship you had. 

The stock set into your shoulder recoils with another burst of fire, Federation soldiers scream in pain, but you barely register over the shadows in the sides of your vision. 

“Damnit, Hesh,” you growl, bullet grazing your shoulder as you grunt and slip behind a concrete divider. 

“What’s that?” Your eyes widen comedically. Shit…had you forgotten to close the line? 

“Eh,” you clear your throat, grimacing at the small sparks of pain in your shoulder. “N-nothing.” 

There’s a bout of silence and then a panting voice, rough and growing more serious. “You alright over there, Harp?” You can’t even respond before Hesh quickly continues. “I’m comin’ to you. Stay there.”

You violently shake your head, although he can’t see it.

“Hesh, I’m fine! Keep right and clear that hallway.” 

There’s a deep grunt. “Fine, but if I see one scratch I’m makin’ Riley chase you down the Base when we get back.”

If we get back.

You roll your eyes with a growing smile, steeling yourself and slamming your weapon to the top of the divider before locking onto your targets. “Please, we both know he loves me too much for that.”

“Most I’ll have to do is put a treat in your pocket, Sweetheart.” His sly smirk is heard easily, and you swallow tense-like and breathe shakily. That low drawl in his tone left you more distracted than you could ever get used to. “Hell,” There’s a struggle over the line before the shink of a knife meeting flesh. A breathless chuckle that leaves your gut swirling. “Maybe I’ll just chase you down myself.”

Logan coughs over the line and you have to click off before you scream. Your face flares up until your ears ring and you have to duck behind your cover again before you get metal right to the forehead. 

Behind the barrier, you glare at the floor.

When did general teasing get so hard for you? Jokes and jabs carrying weight—since when? Sure you’d liked—more liked loved—Hesh since before all of this, but you’d carried on well enough. 

“Fucking hell,” you grumble, shaking your head to clear it and rushing. 

The brothers pop through the side hallways to flank the enemy, taking out the one or two hostiles that were still breathing after you level your barrel with the last standing head; firing with a burst of gunpowder.

“Train’s leaving, let's go!” Hesh screams, waving an arm quickly at you, walking backwards on quick feet. “Harp, C’mon!” 

You chuff, hopping the divider and sprinting as the metal object speeds up—there’s a moment where you fear you might miss it, Hesh and Logan both forced to hop on even in your absence.

“Harp!” Green eyes flash, one hand on the railing and the other extended out. 

“On it!” Snapping, you slam your palm into his and feel his strong fingers curl to clutch you. Logan grabs your collar and helps; the both of them easily yanking you over just as the wall of the tunnel engulfs you all in illuminated shadow.

Back meeting the train’s body, you pant and chuckle as Logan shakes his head, amused, and pats your shoulder. You wink at him jokingly. 

“Good save there, Walker Number Two.”

Hesh grabs the side of your neck, looking you over as he leans back with a breathless chuckle at the title for his brother. He blinks quickly at your shoulder, eye narrowing before he reaches out and looks at the blood on your gear.

“You mind telling me what this is, Doll?” You make a nose in the back of your throat as the smell of his musk hits your nostrils; the deadly concoction of his scent and his digging gaze.

Stuttering, you huff. “Eh…bullet graze?”

You’re leveled with thin lips, but Logan grabs his brother by the upper arm and peels him off you, motioning to his radio as the train gains even more speed. Wind whips past your face as Hesh clears his throat, quickly avoiding your eyes. 

The man’s splotchy paint shows his red skin under the darker pigment. 

“Merrick, we’re on the train,” he speaks, shifting past you without another look. “We’re going after Rorke.”

“Solid Copy.” You watch the brunette walk away and hold your breath, though you don’t know why—heart beating not just because of adrenaline. 

Embarrassment breeding in your stomach, you ignore Logan’s knowing stare and push off the wall, rubbing at your bleeding shoulder with a stiff hand. 

—

You break a man’s neck against the wall, hand on the back of his head before you slam it into the hard metal. There’s a crunch of bone and a broken rattle before the broadcasted feed from the screen on the train’s panel spits out a message in panicked Spanish to the already deceased men.

“Evacuation protocol C is in effect. All personnel secure cargo and supplies—”

Hesh interrupts ahead of you as you let the body drop, scowling at the heavy sound of its dead weight. At his angry voice, you perk and tune in.

“Tell Rorke we’re comin’ for him.” There’s a quick shove from the other end of the feed, the previous man disappearing as the individual that takes his place makes your eyes go to slits. A great growl like a wolf echoes from your heart and seeps from between your clenched teeth. 

Rorke’s scarred face appears with a smirk and a cocky voice.

“Why don’t you just tell me yourself?” You look at your boys, more concerned for them as you watch firsthand the trauma the death of their father brought them. 

Logan holds his weapon tighter, fixing his grip. Hesh is a bit more direct. He leans closer to the screen, bearing his teeth like a dog and snarling with rage and hatred.

“You’re done, Rorke.” All of a sudden he peels back a fast fist and sends it careening into the screen—making a shattering of glass and a hard thud emanate deep into your bones. 

Blinking quickly, you tense as it happens, not expecting that. But as soon as you try to make sense of it, the brunette is already banking off to the side door, calling a sharp, “Let’s finish this!”

He grabs the side of the train car and wrenches on the handle, grunting and pushing with all of his might.

“Hesh,” you try to reason, stepping in now before things get too hot. “We need to think of a plan before you rush into things. This could get us in a heap of shit that we might not be able to get out of.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear you, and you spare a glance with Logan for help. But he, too, has already joined his brother with a swish of gear on the handle. With one great push, the door opens to the outside brightness, making your face turn away for a moment. 

Along the far expanse of open sand dunes outside; mountains flanking the bridge this train flies across, you get the perfect view of a warhead meeting the ground in an explosion of fire and death. It bursts far across the valley, and you cover your eyes as the sharp ball of light burns your retinas. 

The shockwave hits moments later, and Hesh says easily as the train shakes and squeals like a metal pig, “Looks like Icarus got control of the rods!” The boys step out onto the platform along the train, and you have no option but to follow. “All that’s left is Rorke, let's go!”

“Hesh,” you try again, hissing out his name, and you’re graced with a quick glance.

“Harp,” he comments, “what is it? We can’t wait any longer—”

“What we can’t do is go in blind!” You shout above the wind, legs stanced to help you stay up. Green eyes twitch with confusion, perhaps even a little hurt. 

“Blind? What are you talking about, we push forward and take what’s owed.” You know how much this means to him—to Logan—but there was a point where pride and stubbornness outweighed sense. This was dangerous, especially for Hesh. 

You were always the one to keep him level; keep him from becoming too much like his dad. 

You’d promised that old bastard you’d look after his boys, albeit in a teasing sense, but to you, it had been a stark vow on your soul. Logan was a brother to you, and Hesh…Hesh would always be more, but that only made your love for them both grow. 

“You keep those two from getting in their heads, you hear? They mean well, but there’s no one I trust more than you to level them out, Harp. I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your folks would be too.” Elias had said that, and when he died you bottled it up and used so much force that coal had turned to diamond. 

You would keep Logan and Hesh safe. Safe, and level, and not hard-headed. 

For as much as you secretly loved your brunette, he sure was stubborn as all hell.

“If you want out, Harp,” Hesh calls to you, gritting his teeth. “Just wait back in the train car. This is something we can’t put off like everything else—this ends now; today. I’m not letting Dad’s killer survive.”

“Son of a bitch, that’s not what I’m saying!” You’re quickly losing your standing. Logan jogs ahead to scout, time ticking. “Hesh, you know that I loved Elias as much as you two did—not one is denying that this needs to happen. I'm with you. But this is too damn dangerous! We can’t rush into this without a plan of attack; of exfil! Do you even know how we’re going to get off of this thing?!” 

Hesh had been isolating the few days he had on the U.S.S Liberator, keeping to his room. The man idolized his father and put him on a pedestal of gold even when he was a teenager. He’d even pushed away from you, which all together was unheard of. Logan had nearly had an aneurism when you’d come back to the cafeteria and shook your head in disappointment after trying to get him to open his door. 

The two of you told each other everything. Always. That was just…how it was.

But the man that Hesh had donned the skin of was not the man you loved.

Hesh glares at you, eyes going alight with anger. 

“If you were with me, you wouldn’t be holding me back.” He turns and runs after Logan, leaving you behind in the open air as the train banks left and right with the sway of the bridge. 

Staring. Barely breathing. Mouth parted and eyes wide. 

When the man is at the end of the current train car, having to jump a small distance to the next, he pauses. His back is tight, and under him, his feet shuffle. 

There’s a moment you hope he’ll turn around and come back, take you into one of his hugs, and squeeze the life out of you. It wouldn’t be such a cruel way to die, you think, to be held in his arms. 

But the next moment you see the back of his head shake, and he jumps over to the next section, not even giving you a second glance.

You don’t want to admit how long you waited there, your mind jumbled and confused. 

Don’t take it personally, you try to tell yourself, sucking down a breath before slowly walking forward. He’s hurt. Grieving. He didn’t mean it.

Rationality was a tool of the level-headed, and you were anything but that nowadays.

Over the line Hesh’s voice makes you flinch as you slowly follow after, train car after train car.

“Rorke must be at the front of the train!” You step over dead bodies and lend merciful bullets to the ones still writhing, boots coated in crimson. Following a trail of wreckage with stiff lungs. 

Stay out of his way? Fine, you could do that.

You stayed back from the head-to-head fighting, laying covering fire and keeping off the comms—whenever Hesh managed to look back at you, you simply moved on to the next hostile. 

Eventually, you all ended up on the rooftops, the boys far ahead and yourself blank-faced at the rear. Logan was acting more concerned than Hesh was, glancing at you constantly in confused worry. But it was very much short-lived.

“Incoming!” The right side of the railcar bursts with fire, and you gasp before grappling for the opposite side of the train, keeping you there before the swaying beast leveled out. “Helos. Take cover and take out the gunners!”

You scoff, quickly making your way behind a connector joint to lean your back against it and catch your breath. Two helicopters fly alongside the train, Logan already firing at one, and Hesh…your eyes narrow with annoyance. Hesh was already running ahead of the pack, his low grunts and growls over the line giving way to his impatience. 

You click your jaw and try to remind yourself that this is the same man who held you close during movie nights and carried you to bed when you fell asleep. Made you waffles when your boyfriend in eighth grade broke up with you on Valentine’s Day.

Stitched your wounds before he gave them a teasing ‘kiss better’ and looked up at you through dark lashes. 

You wildly shake your head to force yourself back to the present.

The gunners are harder to hit not only based on wind and distance alone, but on the erratic movements of the pilots. It’s several clips before you down the second Helo, and Logan’s follows immediately after as they both collide and ram into the mountainside.

You both share a glance and rush after the misguided brunette. 

At the end of the train, only the engine remains. 

“Clear!” Hesh relays, jumping down from the roof of the railcar and hurriedly walking to the white door, leaning against the wall. “We’re at the last car, Logan. Rorke’s pinned, he knows we’re comin’.”

You gaze down from the top as Logan follows, silent and brooding. Your hands along your FAD tighten under your gloves. You don’t even look at the man. 

“Merrick, do you copy?”

“Copy, Hesh.”

“We’re moving in on Rorke.” You slide him a look, seeing him glaring those pretty greens into the ground. “If you hear the word “Checkmate”, you will fire on our position! Confirm?” Your eyes snap with horror, heart lurching.

Surely, you hadn’t heard that right.

Merrick’s voice echoes your frozen confusion. “Say again, repeat your last.”

You jump down and stagger for a moment, barking out a harsh, “What the fuck are you doing?” Inside of your chest, your heart rampages like it never had before. “That’s suicide!”

He was going to kill everyone to bring down Rorke, and you get no answer beyond a clenched jaw and a quick side-eye.

“You heard me, Merrick, on “Checkmate”, hit this train!” The connection is cut and Logan gets into position to shoulder the door open, you watch, stuttering. 

Hesh levels with his brother, “We can’t take any chances, Logan. Even if we fail, Rorke dies.” Panic builds, and you’re taking quick steps forward.

You keep those two from getting in their heads, you hear?

You have to stop them, you have to drag them away—but even you know that deep down the only thing that will stop these two is a bullet. 

Eyes snapping back and forth, you only get close enough to try and snatch at Hesh’s arm right as he finishes a countdown of three; at the end, Logan kicks down the engine room door with a violent connection of his boot.

Even with the drop on the three guards inside, it doesn't stop the bullet from ripping through your lower side, preoccupied and distracted yet again. You yell loudly, balking back into the door frame and hunching over as blood spurts out of you. Hesh’s head whips your way immediately, jaw going slack and a soul-deep hysteria takes over.

So now he pays attention.

“Shit, Harp!” So little time. 

Logan can’t take care of the last remaining Fed soldier by himself, and in a large act of self-sabotage, that very soldier just happened to have a missile launcher. 

The entire left engine explodes—the train jerks; everyone is sent in a back-and-forth motion, first hitting off the last train car before being sent right back through the engine room entirely. A transference of force gives you whiplash as your head bounces off the door frame. 

The world goes blurry, body hitting and slamming through layers of glass and pain before the control room is suddenly where you end up, using the body of a stunned guard as a cushion. 

There’s a second of muffled gunfire, struggling and yelling—and then it all comes back into focus like a sniper’s scope being correctly sighted. You gargle an expletive and shove the guard under you back down despite the searing heat in your side and head; struggling to unsheathe your combat knife as the world tilts. 

Hands push at your cheeks, grip at your neck futilely, but when you get the blade out and struggle the hands down once more, you hammer the point into his throat with a thump of your boot pressing for purchase on the floor. 

The man spasming, you push off of him and slam to the ground, coughing in great lung-shattering segments.

“You can’t win, Rorke!” Hesh’s voice brings you back from the swirling, and you hear your blood patter to the metal floor like rain.

“Shit,” you mutter, gasping for air. 

Gazing up you see Rorke holding Logan in a chokehold, free hand pointing a gun at Hesh. Your eyes bulged, trying to push onto your knees and reach for your weapon as you saw Hesh continually looking away from the target and worriedly watching you. His hands at his sides are loose, but when you lock eyes with him, they clench and shake. 

“It’s over—” He tries, but the loud gunshot bounces off the train’s enclosed space. You’re yelling before you can think, darting forward and leveling your gun right to Rorke’s head as Hesh’s form collapses to the ground.

Standing on unsteady feet, you pant and stumble, but the devil’s brown eyes hold you captive. Rorke smirks as you guard Hesh behind you. 

“Well, well, well, seems the girl’s just as promising as you, eh, Logan? She’s the other one who slipped her binds in Las Vegas.” He laughs. “Look at me, I’m surrounded by young talent.” 

“I don’t exactly care if you are or aren’t,” you growl, shuffling to keep Hesh even farther behind you as you instrumentally cough again. Your legs are wobbling. “Just that you put my fucking friend down.”

“You willing to die for him?” Rorke looks demented, with his scar and his intimidating build. Whatever torture he had been through to make him like this—a Ghost killer—it had worked perfectly. There was no coming back from this. He whistles lowly. “That’s some loyalty you have there.”

His mind was dead to all else.

You don’t hesitate in an answer, even as the man behind you grabs your leg, trying to move you with a wheezing breath.

“H-Harp,” his spine moves in a cough. “Don’t…please.”

“Always.” Interest alights in those dark, tiny eyes. Logan tries to give you messages with his gaze, but you ignore him. Ironic. “That’s not something I’ll break on. Unlike you.”

“Shit, Kid,” there’s a grand laugh, “now that’s heartless…but good,” Rorke glances at Hesh, raising a brow and chuckling. “I’ll love to see the look in his eyes when I—”

“Checkmate!”

“Checkmate confirmed.” You look down at Hesh and see him watching you, his gaze open and bare. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, but all you can do is watch. 

There’s no time to think.

“I love you,” you confess in a fleeting moment of bare nothingness, blurting it out. “I’ve loved you.”

Hesh’s body entirely halts, jaw slowly slackening in horror; something shifts behind his eyes but before he can open his mouth, a rageful bark bullies the smooth tone of his throat back.

“What did you do?!” Your form is bodied into the controls behind you, colliding as you snarl and are forced to recover. With a snap of your finger, you fire a shot into Rorke’s foot. 

He yells and whips his wrist back, slamming the butt of his gun into your temple. 

As the bridge ahead of the train explodes, Hesh drags himself to cover your body, muttering into your flesh words you cannot name as the darkness sets in.

“It’s over,” Hesh speaks grimly to Rorke, turning to look at him silently as he presses your head into his chest, sharing a nod and thin-lipped look with Logan still stuck in his arm. “It’s over.”

“Shit, Son…” The train gets thrown and broken in a wave of utter destruction and rebirth; and through it all, Hesh never lets go—not even when the water below comes up to meet you.

—

The beach’s sand is coarse, and it sticks to your gear with a fervent hold. To your skin, the paint, and blood, for the moment washed away as hands dragged you from the water, small puffs of breath and whimpers greeting you. 

“C’mon, Sweetheart.” Hesh. And he sounded frantic. “C’mon, open…open your eyes, dammit. Please, you just told me the best thing you possibly could. Please.” 

Water slips off your neck, and as you’re weakly lying back, propped against a rock, hands slip to your cheeks, moving the skin as a barely conscious body tries to make you wake up. 

A forehead hits against your shoulder, a deep groan of pain emanating from the man who grips at your gear.

“No, no, c’mon,” Hesh can barely keep himself sitting up, bloody and broken. Logan had to drag him from the water not seconds prior, and in turn, Hesh had grabbed what little strength was left and helped him get you. “Logan!” Green darts to brown, and the older brother pleads in a broken voice, “Help me!”

You bend your head forward and cough up blood and water, shoving Hesh away from you so you can collapse on your side and expel your stomach.

“Harp,” the man quickly mutters, dragging himself over and grabbing your shoulder to keep your face out of the sand. “Fuck, okay—it’s okay I’ve got you.”

“You,” your voice cuts out, and you shake as you gasp and sputter, “A-are a fucking idiot!” 

Hesh chuckles, and you feel his head hit off your arm, his struggling breath. “God, I know. I know, Sweetheart.” 

Logan crawls over to you, pushing you back against the rock and grappling for his medical pouch as Hesh patches into the comms. You grunt and look down at the younger brother, head swirling in colors and ears pounding with your pulse. 

“Merrick, do you copy? Merrick, come in.”

“Hesh! Hesh, is that you?” You weakly smirk at the shock and relief from the tone, letting your head tilt back as Logan hurriedly packs your gunshot wound with gauze. You wince and stare at the sky—blood infectiously tinging the sand below you. 

Hesh tries to help too, but you and the man are in far worse shape than Logan. The older brother’s shoulder leans into yours heavily, and you shift your eyes to the side as they flutter.

You haven't forgotten what you told him, what you confessed, but right now pushing back the black in the sides of your vision was more important.

And Rorke. What had happened to Rorke?

“Yeah,” Hesh watches you, face screwed with concern. “Yeah, I’m with Harp and Logan. We’re…we’re alive. Rough shape, but alive.”

“And Rorke?” You hold your breath.

“Dead.” Logan ties off a quick tourniquet and your spine tightens in agony, hissing out as your nerves spike with electricity. The brown-eyed man spares you a sorry glance but you shake your head in dismissal. “He’s dead.” 

Out in the water, the enemy warships are firing off missiles inland, some smoking and others already sinking. Merrick gives you the news as Hesh brings a hand up to your chin, tilting your head his way. You go willingly, skin on fire from the scrape of his gloves. 

Logan moves back, having done what he can, before he collapses back into the sand, panting with an arm over his stomach. His older brother’s forehead bumps into yours, eyes stuck. 

“Copy that. The Federation is in full retreat—the rest of the payload is inbound to finish the…”

Whatever else Merrick relays is lost and Hesh’s lips splay over yours, his nose letting out a long breath and body sagging, dead-weight. Cheeks hot and mind running, you let instinct take over and reciprocate, quick fingers pulling at his vest straps.

“Since when?” He asks, breathless when he moves back an inch. 

“After you introduced me to your first girlfriend, Cassie Albrook,” you smile, eyes crinkling. “Seventh grade. The one with the black hair? God, I was so jealous.” 

Hesh chuckles deeply, body jerking as he kisses you again, pulling back and holding your cheek in his hand. His eyes are wide and open.

“You mean to tell me, I could have been kissin’ you all the way back since seventh grade?” Your face moves with pure love, flesh going soft—even the pain diminishes somewhat. 

Merrick’s voice still gruffly moves down the line, and the last bits of his sentence are heard. 

“...Sit tight, Recon’s comin’ for ya.” Everything was looking up. 

Missiles slam into the Federation ships out in the water, the sudden burst of liquid and fire making Hesh briefly cover you with his side to protect you from the shockwave. When you turn to look, nothing but sinking metal remains. 

“I’m sorry,” Hesh tells you, and you don’t have the energy to pull away from his neck as you let your head rest—the thumping of your brain and the calming shadow of his form giving way to believe you had a concussion. 

“Hm,” you hum, letting him continue. His voice echoed in his breast.

“I…I’ve been an ass these past few days, weeks, I shouldn’t have said what I did—wanted to take it back as soon as I turned away from you.” You close your eyes and sigh long, sarcastic even now. 

“You owe me dinner and a movie, then I’ll see if I can forgive you.” Hesh chuckles, nose pressing down into your scalp. He kisses you there as water falls from his chin.

“Sounds like a plan, Doll.” The man lets himself rest, curled around you and waiting for the recon team as the sand and the water move. “I love you too…just so you know. Long time.”

Your failing mind lets off a scoff. But a happy one.

When you wake again, not remembering when you’d fallen asleep, it is to the sound of screaming. 

“Logan!” You jolt up and have to place a hand on your head to stop the pounding. Hesh is struggling to move, fighting to get to his younger brother who you turn as quickly as you’re able to face. “Logan!”

Your face voids of blood. 

Rorke is dragging the other man away, pushing him to the ground as Logan tries to fight like a dog on his back, with only one arm working properly. Growling, you try to stand—body falling and sliding right back down as Rorke kicks Logan’s combat blade from his hand, walking over to you and Hesh. 

He stands and pants, limping from your shot to his foot and a hand across his abdomen in obvious pain.

“Look what you did,” Rorke motions behind him to the still-falling missiles being disposed of from space into the ocean; atop the wreckage of what Rorke had been a part of. Falling to your side, you leave behind a raging Hesh who attempts to move and get to Rorke while you go to Logan. The devil wheezes and points from you to the boys, forcing a grunt of approval. “You’re good.”

Hesh is shoved back by a ruthless boot into the rock, and you snarl, coming over to Logan and his very broken arm as he weakly writhes on the ground. You place your body over his and bare your teeth as if a beast. 

“Rorke!” You bark. “It’s over! It’s done. Everything you’ve built is dead and recon is on its way for us…you’re finished.”

“Nothin’s finished, no,” Hesh tries to lunge again as Rorke’s body stumbles closer to you but falls into ragged coughs and stays on his side in utter agony. 

“Stay away from them!” The man you’d just confessed to hisses, hand grasping futilely at the sand. Green eyes run back and forth from you to Logan, desperate and breaking by the second. “Rorke! You son of a bitch!”

“Nothin’s ever finished.” Grabbing you by the scruff of your neck, you’re being tossed off Logan and thrown to the side in a cloud of sand, body screaming at you as you yell out loudly. 

Rorke bends a knee to look Logan in the eyes, shaking his head.

“You’d of been a hell of a Ghost.” Yelling, you wrench at the combat knife in your vest, set your feet, and tackle Rorke off of the Walker boy with a feral curse on your breath. 

“Get the fuck off of—” Your leg twists with a defining crack as you’re grappled and thrown off, only able to slice a nice long cut down his jaw and at the beginning of the man’s throat. 

Screaming you hear briefly Hesh’s rageful bellow, his calling of your name in high keens of helplessness. Promises of revenge and justice. 

Breath breaking as tears line the back of your eyes, Rorke comes over you and pins your dominant hand to the ground—you look up and grimace, trying to make your body function. 

Move!

Rorke laughs, great shoulders shaking with glee. He’s fucking demented as he continues his sentence from before your fruitless attack. 

“...But that’s not gonna happen, is it?” The man smiles and you struggle as Logan and Hesh rapidly try to assist. 

“Harp!”

“There ain’t gonna be any Ghosts.” Rorke’s eyes shift to Hesh, and you follow with a sense of dread and horror. The man’s mind had been made up when he turned back around, disregarding Logan entirely in favor of you and your ‘unbreakable’ loyalty. 

The joy it would bring him to destroy you and set you loose after such. Set you loose on Hesh. 

He leans in close to you, so you can feel his breath and his conviction. 

“We’re gonna destroy ‘em together.” 

“Harp!” You’re shoved back, knife grasped and ripped from your hand as your broken leg is grabbed and pressure is applied. 

You scream again, arms carding across the dunes as Rorke begins dragging you backward like a child holding onto a stuffed toy. Blown green eyes meet yours, Hesh reaching out and screaming at the top of his lungs for you. 

But he can’t move.

“Harp!” 

And you can’t feel your fingers. 

“I love you,” you whisper, perhaps for the last time and he sees your lips move. Hesh screams and slams his hand into the ground, Logan stumbling to his knees but immediately dropping back with a small cry. 

And Rorke chuckles.

—

You don’t know where he took you, but you do know the jungle floor is cold and wet, and the mud under your fingernails makes you feel gross. 

What you do know is that the earthen walls of the pit you are in are pointless to try to climb—the top is slatted with a covering of long sticks with wide square openings. You know it’s going to rain by the smell in your bloodied nostrils. 

You know that your leg is broken, your bullet wound is festering through the tourniquet, and your concussion is making you sleepy. 

In your head, you count these ‘knowns’ and sprinkle them like seeds as you stare blankly at the sky far above. Everything aches; hurts. When you breathe, it comes in and out with a wheeze. 

You know that Hesh loves you, and perhaps that’s the only fact you care about. Wherever he is, you’re glad he can’t see you like this. 

Rain patters against your head, the storm clouds finally rolling through. Leaves can be heard shuffling on their branches. You breathe in and out, rising and settling your lungs slowly. 

You can’t break—not like Rorke. 

No matter what he did to you, you can’t betray the Ghosts. Logan. Hesh.

Elias’s words echo as you curl into a tiny ball, shivering and whimpering as your wounds move and pull. 

...I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your folks would be too.

You know this game. Torture. They’ll pump you full of hallucinogens, starve you, beat you within an inch of your life; and through that you cannot give in.

But it’s easier said than done.

In the middle of the night, the top of the pit is pushed away and there are the voices of multiple people that dance above the rain storm. They jump down and in the state you are, there’s nothing you can do to stop them from hooking their arms under yours and hauling you up, limp and motionless. 

The words are in Spanish, and you still can make out some over the commotion and the way your hearing dips in and out. 

“Where do we inject….”

“...neck, I believe…arm could work too…”

“...nasty…was it? I heard…mix of drugs…Who knows?”

Your head is harshly yanked back, and the sharp pinch of a needle digs into your neck, the action making your good leg kick out in panic but there’s little you can do. 

A flood of thick fluid enters your veins and like sap seeping out of a tree some drops exit the wound and mix with the rain weighing down your clothes. They’d taken your gear, only your undershirt and cargo pants still clothing you. 

When they’re done, they let you drop back to the floor, where you flop and smash your face into the mud with a weak drag of your cheek along the sludge. With calls from above, a rope is tossed down and they all ascend. The top is clattered back over moments later. 

Laying still and groaning, teeth clenched, already you feel ten times more strange than before. 

“Ah,” you grasp at your head, which was bursting to begin with, as it gains a looseness to it—the mud below you shimmered with puddles, the chill got colder, and your clothes felt grating against your skin. “Not good. N-not good.” 

You pull at your shirt collar, coughing as your eyes bulge; your heart breaks itself as it immediately can be felt hammering into your ribcage far more sensitive than you’d ever experienced. It felt like your chest was going to rip open. 

Panicked sounds emanate from the back of your throat, fingers digging into your scalp as the drugs carry their venom through your blood. 

Your wounds blazed.

You start screaming, babbling for nothing, and pulling at your flesh, but the overhead striking of lightning leaves the desperation mute to all but the trees.

—

Hesh stares at you from the corner of the pit, but his eyes are not green. You watch, silent, barely moving, from where you curl into a tiny heap of bloodied flesh. You’d torn at your skin for days; time looped together with more injections and no food. Water you got from the sky.

They had offered soup, but you knew better even as you dug harsh lines into your neck. There were just more drugs in the broth. 

But Hesh. Hesh.

He wasn’t right—didn’t stand like him, or breathe like him; there was something off about his smirk as he watched you gaze at him in an addled stupor.

“Feelin’ good over there, Kid?” Not Hesh. Not. Hesh.

You’re panting, your body sweating profusely in the humidity and so, so hungry.

Not Hesh takes a step forward and his image tilts like the turning of a page with Rorke taking his place, but as soon as it happens it flips back on itself to your Love.

“N-not right,” you hurriedly whisper.

Not Hesh puts a hand to his ear, kneeling down in front of you. “What was that, now?” A long chuckle. His voice is…is…deeper. Your eyebrows flinch up and down. “Who do you see, Sweetheart?”

“Hesh,” you whimper out. “Hesh, what are you talking about? What’s going on? I…I feel like I’m…I’m twisted inside out.”

“Hesh, huh?” The man looks to the side, smiling. “Well, that’s better than I expected. This’ll be fun.”

“W-what—” A fist connects with your face and you get catapulted into the wall. Before anything else, your stomach is kicked, making your call of alarm get forced out as a gasp as your clotted bullet wound reopens in a great tear. A large hand grips you hard by the chin, snapping it forward to stare into those wrong eyes but the familiar face of Hesh. 

What was he doing to you?

“H…Hesh,” you can’t even stutter out his name before you break down into coughs and gagging; tears rolling down your cheeks, and blood and mud everywhere.

“Yeah, that’s right. You just keep lookin’ at me.” You dry heave and push at his hands, fingernails digging into his skin to create crescent moons. “Keep lookin’ at Hesh.”

—

It’s three months of the same, and you can’t go on anymore.

You lay in a near comatose state on the ground, flesh completely covered in mud and open wounds—maggots eat at your dead skin, wriggling deeper. Not having the heart to pick them out, or even move the few non-broken fingers you have, you lay in blank agony. Pain so deep you can’t scream or make a single noise. It would make it worse; it is making it worse. 

Breathing is becoming a chore.

“Is today going to be the day?! God, I sure hope so.” Hesh looks down from over the edge, fiddling with another syringe of drugs. “Enough blood down there to make a fuckin’ painting out of. Shit…You lasted longer than I thought, Kid.” You don’t look at him. At his dark, wrong, eyes. 

“I’m nearly impressed.” There’s a low chuckle and the crackling of branches. 

You close your eyes and try to think of a single kiss and green eyes, but the rest of the image is tainted to you. Your mind can’t call it forward without the corruption of the puppet ahead of you, this shifting specter of mist and smoke.

Memories that used to bring you comfort call to fear and spine-curling hurt. 

This couldn’t be Hesh, you told yourself for the millionth time, but…who else could it be? Your body was too broken to try and work through the hallucinations, to think or rationalize.

There’s a thump of boots and a grunt. Someone coming closer as birds speak far above. Singing. It's the first you can recall another living creature being this close to the smell of infected decay.

 “Now, now, let’s see that neck of yours.” You’re seized and pushed onto your back, head lulling and eyes fluttering. Hesh’s image shifts and bends into another, one you should be able to name but can’t quite recall. It’s hard to focus. “Just one more, and we can fix this. Together. No more Ghosts, huh? We’ll make it right.”

Birds songs. Birds and flying shadows. Rapid wing beats like an eagle or the pound of paws on the ground. 

There is an un-godly snarl and a call of rage. 

“Rorke!” The dark-eyed Hesh snaps his head away, his needle stilling in his grip only inches from your flesh. He’s grappled and ripped away, thrown up and slammed down into a full-body jerk of pure strength not a second later with a cry of shock. “Get the fuck off of her!” 

Shadows roll and wrestle, feral yowls like that of beasts bounce off your impaired hearing, mud stuck in your ears. You think your vision cuts out for a moment because the next there’s a different man gripping your shoulders, slightly shaking you back awake.

Blue eyes like the ocean. Your brow barely twitches in confusion. 

Keegan? 

“C’mon, that’s it. Right here.” A light is taken and directed right into your eye in the fading light. “You’re doin’ great, Harp. Just keep lookin’ at me.” 

The light passes over your blood-coated eyes and barely diolates. Keegan’s lips under his balaclava thin to an alarming degree. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, looking down at you before he darts his vision over to Hesh, the actual Hesh, who’s locked limbs with the former Ghost; fists to guts and primal anger. 

In his haste to get to you, Hesh had damned himself—he’d left no opening for any of the others to get a clean shot at Rorke. But no one could blame him, even if it was reckless; incredibly stupid. 

The man had been on your trail nearly every day since you’d been taken. Barely sleeping, eating little. A man possessed. 

The Ghosts had been half convinced something had taken over his image and scooped out his personality.

“Merrick,” Keegan patches into the secure line, looking back down at you. “Positive ID on HVT, three klicks West. Hesh has engaged—we found Harp.” 

There’s an instantaneous response, worried breath. “Solid copy…how’s she doing?”

“We need MedEvac immediately. She won’t last another night.” There’s a curse on the other end, a loud and quick call to the rest of his squad. 

“Copy! I’ll call it in!” Keegan tries to stabilize you as Hesh and Rorke rip each other to shreds, and Hesh, who had the upper hand in the beginning, is quickly losing it.

“Awe, look who tracked ‘er down!” Rorke snatches at Hesh’s collar and lays two jabs to his ribs—there’s a definitive crack as the younger man shouts in pain. “Young love! So fucking pointless.” 

“I’m going to rip you into pieces,” Hesh bares his teeth, eyes wild and unrestrained. For a moment Rorke looks taken aback by the utter conviction in his green gaze. “And make you choke on your own damn teeth! You hear me?!” 

Ripping away with a tear of fabric, Hesh bends low and tackles the former Ghost to the ground, splaying him out on his back before his fist is snapped back and brought down; again and again and again. 

“Hesh!” Keegan shouts, pressing deeply into your wounds and trying to give you fluids with one hand. “This fucking kid.” The Sergeant gives up, shaking his head. 

Trust had to be given, and Keegan knew that at this moment he had to trust Hesh to hold his own. He needed to keep you conscious. 

“Easy, Harp.” You can feel the cracks in your dry throat as the water seeps past them, and you cough up droplets before the blue-eyed Sergeant tilts your head and helps you. “Easy, Sweetheart.” 

Keegan doesn’t even want to look at your body as the brutal sounds of a fist on bone continue, clothes scuffling and gargled breaths—the savagery and barbarous remnants of mental and physical torture too much even for him. 

“Christ,” he hisses. 

You gulp down water slowly and let it fill your stomach like a brick. 

Hesh reduces Rorke’s face to a mess of flesh and busted bone, sweating and not even stopping as his knuckles split under his gloves or his fingers dislocated from their sockets. His eyes burn, his face goes red—he looks insane. 

He looks like a spirit of utter revenge. 

Only when Logan and Merrick drag him off the spasming body does he stop, but not after he tries like hell to fight out of that hold as well. Whipping around, he attempts to land a punch on Merrick before Logan is forced to put him in a restraint hold. 

Hesh’s cheek meets the mud, face being sunk into it as his right arm is twisted so far behind his back it nearly breaks. The older brother growls, free arm and legs moving—back sliding. 

“David!” Merrick barks at him, face pulled in a sneer, enraged at the man’s lack of sense. “Shut this shit down. Look at her, dammit!” Logan gets bucked off, but the youngest Walker boy has enough sense to wrestle him back down and grab onto his chin; forcing those green eyes to lock on you and Keegan. 

The second he sees you, he entirely freezes.

Merrick sighs out harshly, jogging over to you and already checking in with the MedEvac that Kick’s flying in. There would be no resistance—all the other hostiles were dead. 

“Jesus Christ,” the Commander breathes, kneeling by you instantly and studying your body. 

Hesh’s reaction is slower, but the spread of vile tears burns the back of his eyes. Logan lets him go at seeing this, standing and holding out a hand, but the brunette stays on the ground a moment longer; utterly still. 

Hesh’s mouth opens and closes. 

All at once he’s rushing over and limping up at your side as Merrick grabs more medical supplies from his packs to help you. 

“Oh my God,” Hesh breathes, and Keegan sends him a glance. You’d drank all of the water. “Harp, hey, you’re going to be okay—it’s gonna be alright, you hear? I’m right here, Logan and I are gonna get you home. Back to California, okay? Riley’s waitin’ for you, Doll.”

You flinch at that voice, and Merrick looks sharply at the blue-eyed Sergeant. Their eyes lock, holding for a long moment. Logan’s brows tighten in confusion. 

The brunette seems not to notice it at all, hands finding your cheek before Merrick can give him a warning. Your eyes slowly shift to him before they peel back with fear.

Hesh’s vision goes glossy, clenching his jaw. “Shit, what did he do to you—”

“Hesh!” 

You yell and yerk back, shoving the man off of you with a fear-filled sob. 

“No!” Keegan and Merrick grapple to keep you down, not wanting to aggravate your wounds as Hesh falls to his ass, hands slapping behind him before he hisses and brings them back up. He blinks quickly in confusion and panic.

Logan rushes over and hides him from your view, beginning to understand what was going on. 

“No!” You call again, Keegan having to hold your head into his chest to hide you away. Merrick yells down his comms to hurry the Helo up, and that he doesn’t care about anything else. “No,” your voice gargles off as you sob into Keegan. “Please, no more.”

“Shh,” the Sergeant mutters, looking over his shoulder at a pale and shaking Hesh. “Nothin’s going to happen to you. Not anymore.” 

“Harp,” Hesh whispers, jaw slackened. “I…I don’t…”

“Hallucinogens,” Merrick says grimly, watching you shake and wail. Logan has to look away, his fists clenching. “Who knows what she’s seen. Reckon it wasn’t anything good.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear anything besides your cries. Whenever you gasp Hesh tenses as if he wants to run to you—comfort you the best way he knows how. 

Hallucinogens? He thinks and feels tears dribble down his cheeks as he blinks, rubbing at his jaw and shakily placing a hand over the back of his neck. Logan puts a heavy grip on his shoulder, weighing them down even more.

—

Rorke’s death should have been a time of celebration—of honoring the fallen. Elias Walker, Ajax, and countless others. The Federation was nothing more than broken factions now. Dust to the wind. 

But no one can celebrate when they’re trying to fix one of their own.

You were being kept in the secure medical ward under twenty-four-hour surveillance and around-the-clock care; only Keegan was allowed in, seeing as you were the closest to him outside of Logan and Hesh and had no adverse effects to his presence. 

Merrick had said he didn’t want to risk Logan going in, as it might worsen things. Hesh was taking it hard. 

He just got you back, how was this right? How was it fair that you’d had to go through that right when it was supposed to be over and done with? The man got sick over it, thinking about what Rorke had done to…break your mind like he had. 

Two months. 

Two months of nightmares plaguing him, of your eyes when you looked at him. If Hesh had just been stronger, then that bastard would never have dragged you away on that beach. He resulted in working out more, running laps around Fort Santa Monica with Riley at three in the morning—he grew bags under his eyes. He grew quiet. 

When all of his broken ribs and fingers healed, the artificial wounds, he was offered awards for taking down Rorke; even a summon by the President. 

He’d denied all of them. 

If a medal was going to get you better faster, he’d have taken them in an instant. But he wasn’t that stupid. Hesh was withering, and everyone saw it. He loved you more than anything—more than fame or recognition. The man lay awake at night fearing that you were too cold or uncomfortable in the far-off ward, he was paranoid about your safety. 

More often than not, the nurses found him and Riley fitfully sleeping outside of your door on the hard ground, arm used as a pillow. They didn’t have the heart to move him.

In the last two weeks before the third month of your isolation and evaluations, in his nighttime routine, Hesh finds your door open. 

He stares at it now with a blank expression, fatigue once burning his eyes all gone for a deep and pounding panic. With a hand gesture, Riley halts and sits, and, sensing his handler’s mood, lets his ears go straight up in attention. 

Hesh reaches for the gun in the back of his pants, peeling it out slowly and taking a nearly silent step forward. Ready, his ears strain for a sound…but there is none. 

His free hand reaches for the door, the short sleeves of his gray sleep-shirt bunching. A moment later, he lightly taps the barrier farther out before entering the room with the gun drawn.

He said he wouldn’t get distracted, but it would be a lie to say his eyes didn’t immediately go to you. 

You were there, asleep, curled up on the far recliner chair instead of the bed. Head lulled to the side and knees kept close to your chest. But it was the scars that broke Hesh.

They were large and long—on your face and arms; legs. All moving and stretching like a child’s drawing up your sleep shorts and shirt, disappearing only to reappear somewhere else. Healed over but still fresh.

Hesh drops the gun and turns his body slightly away, staring at the side wall before he takes an unsteady breath. He re-hides his weapon and turns to leave, not seeing anyone else.

Maybe Keegan had forgotten to close the door…he’d have to chew him out for that. Already a dull point of anger was making his jaw clench at the sly older man.

“Bastard,” Hesh mutters.

Before he can exit and close the door softly behind him, he hears a broken squeak of alarm. He halts as you stare heavily into his back—awoken by the sound of nearly silent feet. In a steady motion, the man’s hands are by his sides, open and visibly holding nothing. 

“I was just leaving,” Hesh whispers, not looking at you. His heart hammers. “I’m sorry, I thought someone else was in here—the door was open, okay?” 

Your hands twitch, body still and breath held tight.

“Hesh?” He flinches, eyes closed tight. 

Don’t look at her. Don’t turn around. Leave.

“Are you really…him?” You ask silently, eyes darting nervously around the room and quickly waking up fully. 

It’s a moment before he answers you. 

“Yeah,” he forces out, voice tiny and sad. “Yeah, it’s me, Doll. Just David Walker.” 

Your throat bobs with a thin swallow. Treatment was still ongoing, but it’s not every day you wake up to find the man who you had nightmares about standing in your room. 

Breathe, you have to remind yourself. It was the drugs. Not Hesh. Never Hesh. Rorke.

But you were still scared. 

“I…I need to see your eyes,” you say. 

Hesh turns carefully, staring hard at the floor. His heart lurches, hands going clammy. 

What if she has a setback? He asks himself. What if I mess this up…Shit, Hesh, you couldn’t have minded your own business?

Oh, but he never could when it came to you. 

“Then look at me, Sweetheart.” The man breathes slowly, darting his eyes up to your face. “They only belong to you.”

But your gaze can’t slip to his sockets, only able to glare fearfully into his neck. But this Hesh felt different, more like the one you grew up with—those memories still coming back but tainted; you need to see green, but it was hurting you to think that you might not.

“I’m scared,” you admit, shakily. The man’s thighs tense, but he stops himself before he can go and take you into his arms. That wouldn’t help. “I’m…I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“I’m real. I swear to you, Harp, I’m real. I’m right here and I’ll wait for you as long as it takes. Even if it’s years, I will always be right here.” He pleads, hands still at his sides and going nowhere if you don’t tell him to. It’s like a floodgate opens, months of internal pain and heartbreak spilling out. You needed to know this, even if he never got to see you again. 

“I have loved you since I saw you get jealous over Cassie Albrook in seventh grade and tried to hide it because you thought she made me happy—she could never make me happy, Harp. That was you. That was always and will always be you. I…I can’t breathe when you’re not near me, I don’t know how to act right when you’re hurt. Seeing you hurting is…is…” Hesh’s voice breaks and he falls silent. 

“Please, if you need to look into my eyes, I’m beggin’ you, Sweetheart, please, do it. Even if it’s only one glance.” Your breath is stuck in your throat, tears welling and sliding down your cheeks. 

In your skull your brain pounds, bordering on hysteria and an urge to flee. There was so little that you trusted anymore. Keegan, yes—the nurses and doctors? You had no choice there. 

You knew that the Hesh you’d seen in the pit was Rorke, Keegan had explained it all to you after the drugs had been pumped from your system; you understood that part. But it didn’t make the sickening confusion any better.

Symptoms of severe PTSD, paranoia, anxiety—you’d seen the charts when the nurses thought you weren’t looking at them. 

You still wouldn’t let anyone with a needle anywhere close to you, had to be put under for it. 

But you’d been so lonely here. A simple kiss seared into your mind before the horror set in, a stain of a smile on your lips. A chest vibrating with a content purr. 

Hesh. You want your Hesh back. 

Taking a stuttering breath, your eyes dart upwards. You push through your misty gaze and lock on a color that can only be described as a grassy field of verdant growth. Great open plains of viridescent being—showing you a world bathed in tender belonging. 

Home. 

You sob and rush from the chair on legs that still hurt even now, meeting Hesh in the middle as he takes a step forward and wraps his arms around you. You’re covered and kept in a hold so tight it’s like he’ll never let you go, heart pounding and his face loose with shock.

But he says nothing beyond a loud shuttered exhale of relief, pressing you to his chest and burying his face into your scalp, breathing you in; taking you down like a sinner in church until all that remains is you. Your fingers digging into his shirt, your face in his neck, how you call his name as if calling a ghost back from the dead.

“Oh, my Girl.” Hesh chuckles through the tears in his eyes. “My Girl. I missed you so much, you won’t even believe it.” 

You push yourself into him tighter. 

Riley, at some point, had come to stand in the doorway, his dark beady eyes seeing only the colors in gray, brown, yellow, and blue, though that never truly mattered. Color was only half of the picture. 

And the rest of the image in front of him was seeped with the pigment of love. 

The dog’s tongue lulls from the side of his mouth, and in the air behind him, his tail moves back and forth into a soft arch.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @waves-against-a-cliff, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[daisies-daydreams]

Hello, I love your work and I wanted to request one. Were the reader is on a mission with 141+könig. And ghost gets jealous because könig likes her. But ghost wants her all to himself so he makes sure her scream his name. Where everyone can hear who she's belongs to. (Hopefully this makes sense and thank you for taking the time to read my request).❤️

I Wanna Be Yours (Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader) Pt. 1

Pairing: Simon Riley (Ghost) x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Swearing, Jealous!König, Jealous!/Possessive!Ghost, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex (You Know the Drill), Creampie, Implied Voyeurism Word Count: 3.9k+

A/N: Hello! 🤗 Thank you so much for your request! I've been thinking of writing more jealous!COD for a while. I apologize this took me longer than normal to write. Reader’s call sign is "Teddy".

Song Rec: I Wanna Be Yours (Arctic Monkeys)

Part 2 (18+)

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Dusk hung over the small Norwegian safehouse, a blanket of snow resting over the crests of the valley. You, Ghost, Soap and a collaborative operator with 141, König, were lounging in the living area. The lieutenant's body ached, his muscles beaten and raw with bruises. Ghost grunted as he stretched out his sore limbs and cracked his neck. He smiled when he watched your jaw drop.

"Damn, Lt. Got a Rice Crispy stuck in there?" you teased. Ghost's shoulders raised with a silent laugh.

"You're quite the cheeky little thing, you know that?" he huffed as he pointed at you. You sighed.

"Only for you," you swooned while batting your lashes dramatically. Soap grinned knowingly while König observed you carefully. Ghost eyed the giant man. Though polite and often reserved, the lieutenant couldn't help but notice the Austrian’s eyes lingering on you from time to time. The thought made his skin crawl ever so slightly. You stood up and popped your back before walking into the small kitchenette area.

"I don't know about you all, but I'm in the mood for some hot chocolate. You boys want some?" you asked, your voice sweet and dripping with honey.

"Always," Soap said.

“Yes,” Ghost replied.

“Ja, danke,” König said with a nod. Ghost and König glanced at each other, then back at you. Soap rose from his chair, a grunt escaping from him as his hand gripped his ribs.

"Be right back. Need to see a man about a dog," he said. Your laugh reverberated across the walls as you flicked on the stove.

"Thanks for giving us that vital information," you chuckled.

"Anytime!" Soap called back. He eyed Ghost before making his way to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Ghost turned his attention back to you. König’s made use of his long legs and came to your side as soon as Ghost rose from his seat. The lieutenant heard a clear 'pop' when he clenched his jaw. You grinned as König grabbed the hot chocolate powder and handed it to you. His fingers slipped over yours carefully.

“Thank you,” you smiled. König nodded, scratching the back of his head.

“Of course, Katzchen,” he cooed. Ghost felt the sting hit him again, the venom seeping straight into his bones. He caught König glaring at him, the silence saying everything.

“Back off”

You hummed as you filled the kettle with water then placed it on the stove. Ghost sighed, his eyes never leaving König’s massive form as he made his way into the kitchen. He opened another cabinet.

“Looking for something, Lt.?” you asked. His eyes flicked over to you.

“I just like my hot chocolate with milk. Thought they'd have the powdered kind here," he replied before shutting the cabinet door with a shrug. You nodded. The water inside the kettle began to hum and bubble.

“I think it's better with milk, too,” you agreed. Ghost smiled beneath his mask. König stepped closer, looming over you.

“I enjoy it that way as well,” he added. He and Ghost locked eyes again, holding their stare as you were focused on trying to get the cups from the cabinet above you. Ghost stepped forward, cutting the other man off. His hand braced your upper back as he reached up, grabbing four cups. You blushed as he brought them down onto the counter.

“Thank you,” you said softly, averting his gaze. Ghost nodded, his rough hand still glued to your back.

“Welcome, Teddy,” he lilted, making sure to place a gentle emphasis on your call sign. He grinned beneath his mask as he looked up at the towering man. König seemed more tense, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He slowly slid his hand off of you, letting it trail down before slipping his palm off your hip. Their eyes never left each other as you continued to hum.

"It sure is a cold night," König commented. You nodded. Ghost raised a brow. "I'm glad you're helping us warm up a little, Katzchen," the man continued. Your smile faltered slightly, taken aback by his words.

"Oh, it's not big deal," you waved. Ghost felt all of his muscles tense as König leaned down to your ear, whispering loudly enough for him to hear.

"Would it be alright if I helped you warm up some more after this?" he muttered. The kettle began to steam and whistle, the noise piercing through the kitchen. Ghost's eyes widened, as did yours. Your mouth snapped open, face flushing deeply as you failed to form words. Ghost suddenly found his hand on your shoulder, pulling you back to his chest.

"That's enough," he snarled. The door to the bathroom swung open. Soap stepped out and raising his brows when all three heads turned sharply towards him.

"Did I come at a bad time?" he asked half-jokingly. You closed your mouth before turning back to the kettle, setting it down on a mat. Ghost's hand slipped away from your shoulder as he eyed the towering man near him. König raised his chin up before slipping towards you.

“I apologize for my forwardness, Schatz," he murmured.

"Bullshit," Ghost hissed internally. Your shoulders tightened as you poured and mixed the drinks. Your lips remained sealed as he cleared his throat.

"I suppose the stress from today is getting to my head," he shrugged. Your eyes scanned him carefully as you set the spoon aside.

"It's alright, Kö. I think that mission did a number on all of us," you stated. He nodded, taking two of the cups into his large hands.

"Here, let me help,” he soothed. You smiled.

“You won't hear any complaints from me,” you shrugged. König purred before making his way to the table. You trotted behind him, leaving Ghost to follow you. Soap was already seated at the table, drumming on the nicked, wooden surface. His eyes brightened when you handed him a cup.

“Ah, somethin’ to distract me from these old, aching bones,” Soap hummed before blowing on his drink.

“You’re not that old,” you teased. Soap scoffed.

“What do you mean by 'that', hm?” he quipped. Both of you narrowed your eyes before snickering. Ghost raised his mask above his lips and lifted the rim of the cup to his mouth. He caught you eyeing him as he swallowed the drink slowly. All of you made small talk, though he kept his eye on König from time to time. Your drinks were slowly drained as the sun finally dipped past the horizon, a quiet darkness settling over the frigid valley.

“Did you guys take a shower yet?” you asked. Ghost hummed as he pulled his mask back down. König scratched his chin.

“I don't believe we have,” he sighed. Both of the men were unflinchingly resolved to remain in their chairs. You looked back and forth between them.

“Well don’t trip over each other,” you snorted. Ghost would’ve chuckled, but his heart felt like it was sinking into the hot pit of his stomach. König slightly shook the table with how furiously he was bouncing his leg. The silence was deafening, tension so thick one could cut it with a knife. Ghost cracked his neck again, his fists tightening on the table. König ceased bouncing his leg. The lieutenant felt a small burst of triumph when the other man slowly rose to his feet.

“I’ll be back,” the man murmured lowly, his hand brushing across your shoulder as he passed by. Ghost gripped his cup, nearly crushing it in his hand. Soap yawned, stopping himself before he stretched his arms above his head.

“Well, as fun as this evening's been, I think I’ll turn in for the night,” the Scotsman sighed. He said goodnight to both of you before walking down the hall. A heavy silence settled in the kitchen. You cleared your throat.

“I guess I’ll head to bed, too,” you said. Ghost nodded, helping you wash and dry the empty cups. He slid the last one back into the cabinet, closing it quickly. Your eyes were soft and cheeks dusted with pink as he looked down at you. He cocked his head to the side.

“You okay, kid?” Ghost asked. You parted your lips then closed them. His breath hitched as you came closer. You were silent, eyes averting his steady gaze. He placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It’s alright. You can-“ he was cut off when you swiftly lifted his mask and smashed your lips onto his. He grunted, his hands falling to your hips as he leaned into the kiss. Your eyes popped open before you backed away, your hands pressing against his chest. Your entire face was beet red as you opened your mouth.

“Shit. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t-“ It was his turn to cut you off, his mouth swallowing yours in a tender embrace. You moaned softly, letting him dip his head to deepen the kiss. Your mouths melted together, time stopping as you held each other close. You gasped for air when both of you pulled back. His chest rose and fell, heart threatening to burst. He cupped your cheek with his hand as he leaned to your ear.

“Let’s go somewhere more private, yeah?” he whispered.

You nodded wholeheartedly, taking Ghost's gloved hand. He chuckled as you led him into your bare room. You nearly jumped when Ghost quickly slammed and locked the door. His head was spinning, heart thrumming as he turned back to you. You stood nearby, shifting your thighs together as you looked up at him with blown pupils. His cock twitched as he watched you writhe with heated arousal. He exhaled through his nose as he stepped forward, cupping your chin beneath his hand. He stroked your soft face before closing his eyes and diving down.

Your lips interlaced as you hooked your arms around his thick neck. His dog tags jangled as he sighed. Ghost’s hands came down to your waist, his palms resting on your hips. You gasped when he licked small, warm strokes near your mouth. He felt you smile as you parted your lips. He groaned as he plunged his tongue into your sweet mouth, the taste of sweet chocolate still strong on both of your tongues. Your tongue danced with his as you backed up, taking him with you. Your back gently landed on the wall. It felt like an eternity before Ghost pulled away. The crisp air filled his lungs as he gazed at you half-lidded. You smiled up at him, your hands smoothing over his shoulders.

“Been wanting to do that for a long time,” he muttered. Your eyes widened.

“Really?” you blinked. He nodded, his lips wet with a mixture of your saliva and his. You jumped up and captured his lips again. His cock strained in his pants as you practically devoured his lips. Ghost loved how large your pupils were as you looked up at him.

“Me too,” you confessed with a wide, coquettish grin. He swallowed a lump in his throat, not knowing how much longer he’d last.

“Teddy-(Y/N),” he faltered. You held your breath, your breasts pushed out before him. His words were at the cusp of his lips, just there. He sucked in a deep breath. “Fuck, I just...” Ghost finally snapped, pinning you to the wall. You gasped, your hands gripping his taut muscles as he pressed open mouth kisses to your neck, his hands trailing up and down your sides. You squealed when his thigh fell between your legs. Ghost grunted as you bucked your hips upward, moaning at the friction.

“I’m yours, Ghost. I wanna be yours,” you keened as his tongue lathed across your neck. Ghost bit over your pulse before pulling his leg back.

“Call me Simon,” he husked lowly. You nodded, brows knitted together as his hands slid beneath your shirt. He squeezed your plush tits, making you sigh.

“Simon,” you breathed. Goosebumps broke out across his skin when his name left your soft lips. Ghost hummed as he kneaded your breasts, his lips back to sucking dark spots across your pulse. You leaned into his touch, your thighs clenching together as he massaged your chest. He suddenly pulled away, his heart pounding in his ribcage.

“What’s wrong?” you frowned. Ghost licked his lips, his mind drowning in a thick pool of arousal. You squeaked as he grabbed your hips, squeezing them harshly.

"I just...fuck," he growled, his hips jutting forward. Ghost was never one who was renowned for verbally expressing his every whim. Your cheeks were nearly blood red as a guttural moan erupted from your throat. "I just can't hold back anymore, lovie," Ghost spoke, his lips dancing over your ear as he rutted into your clothed eat. You gasped and gripped his shoulders. "You don't have to if you don't want, but-" You leaned up and bit his bottom lip. He grunted as you rolled your hips into his hard length. His fingers dug into your waist as he met your pace.

"I wouldn't want anything more right now," you keened. He groaned as he grabbed your lips with his, his tongue back to exploring your sweet mouth. He felt your pulse race as he guided you towards the bed. You backed away, a glint in your eye as you rolled your shirt over your head. He drooled at the sight of your tits bouncing down. He snatched your wrists just as you grabbed the top of your pants.

"May I?" he asked. You bit your lip and nodded, gazing down at him with drunk, half-lidded eyes. He dipped his head down, capturing one of your breasts in between his puckering lips. You mewled as he took one of your nipples between his teeth. Ghost loved how you arched your back when his other hand came up to tweak your free nipple. He lapped at your areola, flicking it with his warm tongue.

Your hand came up, bracing the back of his head. He groaned as he tugged at your pants and panties. You wiggled your hips, helping him pull them down before stepping out of them. Ghost continued to suckle on your plump breast while you fell back onto the bed, carrying him with you. He smiled, his mouth coming off your tit with a wet 'pop'.

“You doin' okay, love?” Ghost asked. You licked your lips.

"Y-Yes," you sucked in a sharp breath as he didn't wait a millisecond before switching over to your other mound. You whined as you raised your hips, bucking them into nothing. He made a small noise before caressing his hand down your abdomen, landing just above your pussy.

"If you need me to stop, just tell me," Ghost said quickly. You nodded, raising your hips. He kissed your tit before dipping two of his fingers over your hole. The dark-eyed man looked back to you, waiting to see any signs of discomfort.

“Please, Simon,” you gasped.

Ghost began to press kisses and bites across the valley of your breast while he experimentally swirled his calloused thumb around your button. You cried and quickly covered your mouth when he drew slow, tight circles around your clit. He tilted his head up when he heard your muffled moans.

“Don’t hide from me, (Y/N),” he growled. You nodded, swallowing a lump in your throat.

“Y-Yes sir,” you gasped out. He smirked at the military etiquette that slipped past your lips.

“Good girl,” Ghost hummed before placing a deep kiss over your clit. The moans and pants that fell from your mouth was the most beautiful solo Ghost had ever heard. He swirled his tongue around your nipple as he plunged his two digits into your soaked entrance. His cock throbbed painfully as he spread you open with a loud squelch. Your legs clamped down on his arm as his thumb drew small, tight circles around your button.

“Fuck, Simon,” you mewled as you pinched your hard nipples. He felt you shake as you locked eyes, his mouth suckling on your tit tenderly as he thrusted his fingers at a slow pace. Your sweet nectar dripped down his digits, coating the inside of his palm.

“Pussy already feels so good-fuck, can’t believe what I’ve been missing out on,” Ghost murmured as he curled his fingers upward. You whined, hands flying around his neck as you smashed your lips together in a sloppy kiss. Your hands clumsily found purchase at the base of his neck, gripping at the material of his balaclava. He did mind the sting of his hair being pulled one bit, savoring the sounds of your gushing pussy, the feeling of your walls clinging onto him for dear life.

“K-Keep going,” you hiccupped. Ghost groaned as he flicked and circled your clit more feverishly, his fingers pistoning into your cunt. Your brows furrowed as you fell back, your fists coming down to grip the sheets. Just as he felt your cunt tighten around his finger, he slipped it out. Your head snapped up, confusion and frustration laced in your features.

“Simon?” you asked. Ghost shuffled back, wiping his face of your arousal. You raised yourself to sit up on your forearms, watching him as he stripped. Your eyes looked like they were about to pop out of your head as his dick sprang free. He chuckled, pumping his cock in his white-knuckled fist as he climbed on top of you. He sighed, admiring the way your hair fanned across your face, highlighting your beauty.

“Can't wait to spread you open, love,” Ghost drawled as he spread your legs, admiring his wet handiwork. You bit your lip and wiggled beneath him.

“Please, fuck me. Use me,” you whined, drool dribbling past your lips. He grunted, hands rubbing your inner thighs.

“Don't worry: I will. But first, I need to ask a favor of you,” he whispered as he lined himself up to your aching hole. You sighed, waiting for his answer. Your hands flew up and grabbed his shoulders as he began to sheath himself inside, his tip kissing your entrance. You gasped as he gently grabbed your face, lowering his face so your eyes met perfectly. “I need you to scream my name when you cum on my cock,” he rumbled. You nodded, lips squishing before he let his hand travel down to rest near your shoulder.

"But, what about-" He pressed his thumbs to your lips. You looked at him through half-lidded eyes as he rubbed at your plush mouth. You opened it slightly, allowing him to press the pad of his digit on your tongue.

"Nevermind the boys-I just want to hear you," Ghost lilted. You nodded before he slipped his thumb back out, letting it fall onto your clit. Ghost smiled calmly as he pressed his forehead to yours. He was mesmerized by the way your jaw went slack as he breached past your entrance, your pussy squelching as he inched himself inside of you.

"So fuckin' tight," he growled. Your mouth was shaped into a perfect "O", a high-pitched moan erupting from your lungs and cascading through the room. He couldn’t help but groan at the way his head kissed your cervix as he bottomed out inside you.

“Oh God,” you cried, hot tears pouring down your cheeks. He allowed you to adjust for a moment.

“You hurtin’, sweet thing?” he murmured softly. You shook your head.

“N-No, feels so good-so full,” you sighed. He grinned, loving how you were falling apart beneath him.

“God, you're so perfect. Pussy wrapped around me so tight” Ghost grunted as he gave a few shallow thrusts. You moaned, thrashing your head with his miniscule movements that drowned you in a pool of bliss. He groaned before he slowly pulled out, the tense, warm hug of your cunt slipping away. His spine felt like jelly as he slowly sank back into your wet cavern. Ghost's free hand came to rest by the side of your head, his cock twitching inside your walls as he drove into your gushing heat. Despite wanting to pound you into the mattress, he wanted to take his time with you, to make sure you would be covered head to toe with a mind-numbing euphoria. You whined as he rubbed your slick bundle of nerve. Ghost huffed when your gummy pussy clamped down on his cock.

“So pretty, sweet thing,” he cooed, his languid thrusts growing more rapid as he pistoned his cock into you. You arched your back, your walls fluttering around him. Ghost could’ve sworn he heard heavy footsteps outside the door, but he didn’t care, too pussy drunk to even give it a passing thought.

“Simon,” his name fell from your lips like a mantra as your hole opened up for him. The headboard of the bed banged against the wall as he grabbed your legs in a tight grip. You wailed as he pounded into you, his girth stretching your hole wide open. Ghost’s pupils were blown as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, your arousal coating his veiny length and dripping onto the sheets.

“Come on, baby. Come on,” Ghost snarled as he slammed his dick into your cunt, the head of his cock grazing your g-spot with every eager thrust. Your moans began to grow into a grand crescendo. The knot inside of him was winding tighter and tighter.

"Cum for me-cum for your lieutenant," he growled with a hard snap of his hips. You squeezed his shoulders roughly as your eyelids flew open.

“SIMON!” you howled as you threw your head back, your pussy violently convulsing around his thick length. He watched in awe as you unraveled beneath him, your face etched with pleasure as you contracted over and over again. You silently shook as he rode you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he gritted his teeth as he felt your walls getting turned to mush. You gripped his muscles.

“Inside!” you cried. It was only a few more thrusts before Ghost’s body became rigid. You gasped as he filled you with his load, his hot, thick cum painting your swollen cervix. His orgasm cascaded over him like an all consuming fire, burning him to the core. Ghost gasped for air as he steadied himself. You looked just as fucked out as he was- eyes blown and face red with the afterglow. Your pussy squelched as he slowly pulled his cock from your slick walls. He pecked your lips.

"How you feelin', lovie?" Ghost asked. You blinked up at him tiredly, your legs stretching out comfortably.

"Good, so good," you breathed. He chuckled, gently pecking your nose, then cheeks, then lips again.

"Good. Did so well for me-takin' all of me like I knew you would," he praised. Your face flushed at his words. He looked around for his t-shirt. Ghost wiped the cum and arousal that spilled from your leaking hole, his other hand massaging circles into your leg. You sighed as your eyelids fell down. He cocked his head to the side, smiling warmly. Ghost went to stand up, but your hand fell onto his wrist.

“Stay, please,” you requested softly. His heart melted at your sleepy, gentle voice. His lips found purchase on your temple.

"Just gonna turn off the light. ‘M not going anywhere," he reassured. You nodded and gave a small grin. Ghost flipped the switch off before turning back around, finding you fast asleep. He chuckled quietly, crawling beneath the covers and pulling you into his chest. You nuzzled into his rugged, scarred body, sighing in your sleep. He kissed the top of your head before he closed his eyes. Ghost couldn't help but smirk, knowing how your loud moans and the sound of your wet sex rattled the walls.

There's no way König would be sleeping tonight.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

[hexedwinchester]

Early seasons of SPN are superior

so I'm re-watching Supernatural (I'm always re-watching SPN, don't mind me) and I realised why the early seasons are so freakin good whereas the laters ones are a complete mess...

Horror was the core theme of Supernatural (yes, I'm not discarding the brothers' drama, I'll get to it in a minute). These beautiful scare tactics that they employed were amazing: the crib mobile toy rotating, shadows moving out of the corner of the eyes, toys going off, subtle bloody Mary reflections in the mirror, creepy skulls dug from the ground, the ghosts flickering. Hell yea they nailed 'Scary just got sexy' with these.

Don't get me started on the background music. Whimsical music crescendo, building up the anticipation. The rock music blaring through the Impala. What happened to the cool ass music in the later seasons? They just played this weird, sad tune like someone's blowing raspberries to show grief and that's it!

Monster of the week theme and the lores/legends in early seasons were much, much better than S12's Foundry or the later season episode with bizarre tentacle porn thingy (you know which one I'm talking about). It just didn't feel the same. The stories were poorly written and even more poorly executed.

Early seasons used to be purely about Sam and Dean (as it should have been throughout) Them against the world, heaven and hell. No dumbass angel lurking in the background like a pathetic third wheel. No king of hell bitching about his sad childhood for two whole seasons. No Soccer mom half assing their way into hunting.

Foreshadowing was done so beautifully! Everytime I re-watch the early seasons I find a few bits that connects to something that happened initially in say S1-2. The parallels are done beautifully and writing is good, and I mean 'I wanna use this quote as a wallpaper' good.

The struggle for the boys was real. They had to do their own research, save their own asses, stitch their wounds, pop their dislocated shoulders back in the place. Later seasons? Bunker has answer to everything, angel healing wounds with a flash of light, Lucifer bringing Sam back from the dead without asking for anything (and no, taking him to Jack is not a good enough bargain), Jack healing wounds or whatever. Where is the damn struggle?! Where is the hero's journey?!

I miss the beautiful, colourful motel rooms that had its own personality. I HATE the bunker (yes I know a lot of people love it because Dean has a good shower, they have a home etc, etc) but no! Bunker is lame and boring and monotonous. There isn't a single thing I like about it. Gimme back my motel rooms with the sunburst mirror!

Story arc or lack thereof from S12 onwards. The main plot just got duller and duller from S12 onward and it felt like the writers got lazy and stopped putting efforts. There was no build up and the plot felt forced. The main arcs didn't feel exciting enough. BMoL and Kelly's pregnancy: the who and why? Jack: predictable. Other Micheal and Micheal Dean: meh, next! God as the big bad: interesting but I don't think they have it in them to execute this correctly.

Irrelevant/Unnecessary characters and their mini plots. S1-5 focuses purely on the brothers and that's what I'm here. I don't care how and why an idiot angel opened purgatory. It sounded more like a dull spin off plot than main story arc. I don't care about prophets and their lives (yeah Kevin is in Advance Placement, what am I to do with that?). I don't care about the different angel garrisons at war (again a plot for a lame spin off). I don't care about Crowley, his son or his relationship with Rowena. Tell me how this affects the boys. If it doesn't, please let's move on. Whatever was going on with Cole Trenton was pointless. I don't care about Mary and her hunting escapades with BMoL. I don't care about Kelly's pregnancy. The multi-universe and all characters they vomited back in the show with this. Not needed! Let Charlie, Gabriel and Bobby's memory rest in peace. Nick's killer storyline and wayward sisters. Enough said. Empty and the deal with Cas and Meg 2.0? Boring! Billy playing the bad cop, the whole death's library? Poorly executed and it turned into a bowl of cold spaghetti. In the end, the focus moved from the boys to useless characters and mini plots. Fuck that! Supernatural is about Sam and Dean and that's about it.

The direction. Later seasons lack the beauty of scenic shots of the landscape, close on up the boys' faces, the lights hitting their faces to show their beauty. Camera angles and slow panning shots. I miss the beauty that were the early seasons.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - It's 2024 & I'm talking about TayNew... really?

(They pretty much told us all to sit down and shut tf up, 'cause they got this. AND THEY DO.)

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Feb 2024 Wk 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube grey) ep 9 of 12 - I broke. In my defense, it was Monday, I needed comfort, and TayNew were right tf there. Ya know what? They are great in this show. It's a great adaptation. I might like it more than the JBL live action. You know why? Really, honestly WHY...?

That was a PHENOMENAL KISS. Those boys did Thailand fucking proud. They did fandom a solid. Thank you OGs for reminding us how it's done. I was getting used to SloppyHot. And SloppyHot has its place, but that TayNew rooftop kiss was a top tear class act. It was tender and sweet and respectful and joyful. It was eye work and breath work and years of practice. How very far BL has come while still staying so much the same. TayNew - I salute you!

(Read all about distribution issues here.)

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 12fin - we waiting, I guess? Bah.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 11 of 12 - The recipe book thing was so damn cute and I love a claiming. YOU KNOW I LOVE A CLAIMING!

In fact, I love OffGun.

I love food based BL.

I adored seeing a reboot of "the infamous dragging". 

But I don’t love anything else about this show. Sigh.

1000 Years Old ep 1 of 12 - Finally we get our gay vampire BL from Feel Good Bangkok. Stars Shane (My Engineer) and fresh face Opal, directed by Champ (2gether). It’s kind of odd but enjoyable. A group of teen UFO seekers find a vampire instead. Opal looks a bit like a mix between Newnu + Leo (VIXX) - so cute + edge. Also, nice to see Shane again on our screens after so long. 

Finally, I like the subtle (and sometimes not subtle) presence of ghosts permeating this show. Do the friends know she's there? Do they know she's dead? Is the existence of paranormal accepted but not that of aliens? Or are the two combined? Is this lazy writing or just fun world building? Who cares! It's enjoyable.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 12fin - the nail painting bit was very cutie queers and I've not seen it done in BL before, so that was nice. For some reason captions never dropped for me on this last episode, but it didn’t really matter. Not much happened and I understood everything anyway.

Quick pitch?

From the people who brought us Unforgotten Night based on a y-novel, about a young man nursing a heartbreak who has a one-night stand, but the other boy didn't want it to end. This turned out to be a pulp that wasn’t half as good as it should have been and even less memorable, but not terrible. 5/10 DON'T BOTHER unless you're v bored

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 3 of 12 - Oh it is such a pulp: the acting is not good and the script is terrible. Of course, I’m mildly enjoying it. Very good dream kissing. There's something appealing about these main characters - I think it's the moot crushes. We rarely get to see that. These days everything feels very one sided, this... isn't.

A Secretly Love (Thai WeTV) - Khonprot, a third-year hazer of the engineering faculty, has a secret crush on Pluem, a tsundere fourth-year head hazer. Over the years, he's seen Pluem cycle through girlfriends. Recently, after a public breakup, however, Khonprot thinks maybe a boy has a chance.

I tried but I can't get into my WeTV account anymore and I'm way too lazy to figure it out. I'll catch it grey if I can, since I've rebooted the bootlegging side of my BL life for Cherry Magic anyway.

So this show may stay in this section, or I may bump it down to "it's airing but..."

If anyone is watching it, let me know if it's good?

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Love For Love's Sake (Korea Weds iQIYI) 7-8fin - Ugh it was GREAT, despite some pretty telling flaws. I ended up feeling like some of the filming was amateurish (very overworked low angles - director's first feature, I assume), and the narrative is a little disjoined and on the nose, AND the subs are clumsy (which I don't expect from KBL) BUT I still loved it. (FYI - I wouldn't be so harsh on a BL for this kinda thing except one from Korea.)

Quick pitch:

This isekai-based KBL is about a man who must win a game by convincing a reserved teen outcast to fall in love with him. Of course, that teen represents himself and his own unhappiness. Like many queer narratives, this show is actually about self worth, trust, and found family, and it is VERY on the nose. But I don’t expect subtlety from my BL and I enjoyed it's truly lovely redemption arc and earnest performances. While I found the narrative a touch disjointed with overworked filming angles and poorer than average captions, this is certainly much better than early KBL in terms of consistency of tone, script, and immersion. Highly rewatchable and charming, which counts for a lot. 9/10

Trigger warning for suicide depicted.

Perfect Propose (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 4 of 6 - Gosh, it’s so lovely. But I do just constantly want to give them both hugs. 

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - Oh look, Taiwan has created yet another BL where I spend most of the time watching it grinning like an idiot. Surprise surprise. The pet name thing was fucking adorable. Also Taiwan once more proving they come by their "kings of kissing" title honestly. I mean to say. In a week of good kisses this one was just... WOW.

On the other hand, some of the underpinning themes are starting to v worry me (ownership, consent, age), and we only just got started, and I don't trust this production company so... I have concerns.

But also... YAY KISSES!

(I'm made of weak moral fiber.)

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 10 - Like many other shows on this list. I just enjoy it the most when the two leads are on screen together. So this episode was kind of lacking because they were apart for most of it. I also am starting to agree with the tone of the plot, that maybe they ARE better off as friends not lovers. (And I'm sure I'm not supposed to want that.) Oh Japan, must you?

My Strawberry Film (Japan Gaga) ep 1 of 8 - Oh it’s good. In the arthouse lane so don’t expect sweetness & light or an HEA. If there’s no cartoon aspect to a JBL, there’s usually no joy. But it is certainly good. Teens uncover some old film and a mystery around a pretty girl. The background music is wildly annoying (and rarely in the background). 

It's Done

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have any spare time. 2024 is crazy busy for me so far.

The Servant and the Young Master - from Vietnam, it's on YouTube. I will give it a try when I have a window of time.

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - A Burmese BL? @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will give it a watch.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) - Gave me Luminous Solution vibes have decided not to watch.

It's Airing But...

Dead Friend Forever (Thai iQIYI) - rumors are it's interesting. I'm waiting to know how it ends.

Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… probubly not. I won't be watching this. I disliked Season one and actively hated the follow ups. No thank you.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.

Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - dropped it at ep 4.

Next Week Looks Like This:

2/24 Unknown (Taiwan Youku) 12 eps - Older brother tough guy breadwinner looks after his sister and defacto adopted little brother. Little bother falls in love with him and is sent away after a stolen kiss. But when he comes back…

Sam Lin has a cameo so even if I wasn't already excited, I'm in. We should be on our guard though, Taiwan will occasionally go edgy, dark, and sad... this could go there.

One assumes GMMTV is filling in the BL time slot with something queer on their YT Channel after Cooking Crush ends, they gonna lose subs if they don't. But I've not been paying attention to the chatter so I don't know which of their line-up it will be. I think G4 are filming/off radar now, and Earth is in that het noona thing? Plus they gotta sort out the IP for MIx-Up and Ossen. So it won't be one of the announced adaptations. They'll hold My Golden Blood for the high season, so I think it'll be one of the lesser known lead-outs. Wandee or Only Boo maybe? But they only just started filming those. Are we getting our long awaited GL? Anything else left from 2023 that I forgot about?

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Two crawling kisses from Thailand this week. Now this is a fetish I didn't know I had. Turns out, we love this one! (*waves hand in air* I speak for all of us now.)

Cooking Crush

City of Stars

Possibly the best tsundere to cinnamon roll pivot we've had in a long time.

Also the best asshole to KING pivot. Could we have a whole drama staring this character now? Please?

And finally our sunshine learning to love himself.

SIGH. what a lovely show.

And a good SMILEY kiss from a KBL.

And then some cute cuddles? Korea is spoiling me these days. I'm catching expectations now. What's next? Japan learns to kiss in their light BLs? Ha! I kill me.

(All Love for Love's Sake).

(Last week)

[starryylies]

Hi !!! Idk if you've done this already but can you do my angel boy Gaz and Ghost with a girl who love scary movies ??? I feel like they'd totally have the mentality of "I gotta comfort her when she's scared" but Gaz specifically flinches and I think Si would like "brace" if that makes sense like wincing his eyes. I dunno if you've done something like that but your emo story reminded me of me and it made me so happy I'm a metalhead and I was gonna ask for more but it was already in there and that just mad emy day ilysm already okay bye -🫀

Simon n Gaz watching a horror movie with s/o

HELLOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Again so sorry (I’m sorry for saying sorry sm) but like Omg I love this cuz I love horror smmmm!!! Insidious,suspiria,Bwp, conjuring you name it I love them omgggg.

So thank you so much for the awesome ask and I hope you enjoy it 🩷🩷🩷

Also I used the movies sinister and lights out for the references :))

SIMON-

♰ he thought watching the movie sinister will be fun cuz he thought he could protect you from the jumpscares

♰ he needs to be protected from the damn movie tho (okay this movie is fucked up tho and it’s totally normal to be scared)

♰in the beginning he thought it will be some poorly made movie with shit ass jumpscares but boy was he wrong

♰ when the scene of the family hanging themselves comes on he was taken aback and he lets out an audible wince shutting his eyes

♰ he genuinely finds the movie scary and gory, cannot help but find himself wince and shut his eyes whenever he thinks there will be a jumpscare

♰ as the movie progressed and the other tapes were revealed he just couldn’t take it anymore, his limit broke off when the mowing scene came

♰ but you seemed to be enjoying the movie, anticipating what the next scene will reveal

♰ he shut the tv before he could see further, it was too much for him

♰ “fuckin hell love this movie is a fuckin nightmare” he groans

♰ “noo It’s a well made film :( plus I enjoy a good scare ya know”

♰ god how could you be so chill with it, he can’t tell if he should admire you or keep his distance

♰dw he admires you :)

♰ keeps on ranting about how he’d never do such a stupid fucking thing

♰ says Ellison was a stupid fuckin idiot for getting his family there and curses him for the rest of the day

♰ asks you your opinion on the movie and who you think is recording the tapes

♰ ends up going on the net to see how the movie ends cuz he can’t let it go

♰when he finds out the ending he has an ‘aha’ moment.

♰ tries watching the movie again but ends up stopping in the beginning itself cuz he can’t handle it.

♰ probably doesn’t want kids after this movie

GAZ-

♰ Awh this poor guy just wanted to watch a scary movie with you to hold you when you’re scared but it kinda ends up being the opposite

♰ you both decide on watching lights out (I wanted to pick hereditary or mother but too much cuz I’m writing this at 3am)

♰ see lights out is a Pretty chill film but Diana is creepy as hell and sadly gaz became a victim to Diana’s jumpscares

♰ when she killed the dad gaz visibly flinched like on the edge of the sofa hoping the dad would survive

♰ but boom the bitch killed him :/

♰ felt really bad for the brother (Martin)

♰sympathised with him a lot by saying he’s a good kid and that he’s really strong.

♰ surprised on how you’re not getting scared or anything

♰ thinks that you have watched this film before

♰ gaz got shit scared during the scene where Rebecca and her boyfriend came and Diana creeped around them

♰ the end made him tear up just a lil :(

♰ you ended up comforting him holding him close cuz he felt bad about their mom

♰ thinks it’s adorable how you give lil facts about the movie from time to time though.

♰ cursed Diana for the rest of the day,

♰ if you take any medications, don’t worry you’ll never miss them now cuz gaz will make sure you eat yours on time

♰ keeps the bathroom and living room lights on that night

♰ will search for movies like lights out

♰ will never watch them though

♰ is proud that he got closer to you tho

♰ will definitely hold you the entirety of the movie

♰ will never have a horror movie date again tho

♰ but will watch a horror movie with you if you ask him cuz how can he say no to you :))

[grave-z-boy]

are you comfortable with writing about a transman? if so id like to see arthur morgan comforting ftm!reader, maybe calling him a "good boy" to make him happy x

Arthur Morgan x Trans!male!reader

Summary: Reader runs into an old family member and is desperately in need of comfort afterwards. (Once again making excuses to be sad and transgender)

Words: 1264

Warning: hurt/comfort, pre-transition reader is referred to as “dead” and “little girl” by reader, reader threatens his cousin, shitty family members.

A/n: shorter fic cuz I've been banging my head against the wall trying to get the rest of my writing back.

Masterlist

“You need to eat.”

You glanced up at Arthur, the fire between the two of you illuminating him in a orange glow. Your food had gone cold, and you didn’t mean to be wasteful, but today was…a lot. You shifted uncomfortably on the large rock you'd perched yourself on.

“‘M not hungry.”

You heard him sigh as you stared down at your plate.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong or are you just gonna sit there and sulk.”

“It's nothing-”

It was something, it was definitely something. You went into town on your own, bright and early so you could be in and out of the shops and get back to camp while the sun was still up. That was the plan, pick up some spices, and oddly enough a picture frame, Arthur had asked for it but he said it wasn't for him, probably gonna be a gift of some kind, you didn't think too much about it.

While you were making sure you're satchel was still secure, you heard a familiar voice.

“D/n?” he called from across the street.

You froze, but just for a moment, you tried climbing onto your horse as fast as you could by you were stopped by a firm grip on your shoulder. Turning, you saw him, right in front of you, your cousin, your asshole of a cousin, Damian.

“Well I'll be damned, it is you!”

Taking a breath you said, “Do I know you?”

“‘Do you’- d/n stop playing around!”

His voice was loud, loud enough to garner unwanted attention from those around you.

“I don't know no d/n sir, you've got the wrong man, now you best take your hand off me before you lose it.”

He backed off, a small apologetic yet nervous smile on his face, “sorry, you just uh, look an awful lot like my little cousin.”

Finally mounting your horse, you looked down at the man. You didn't say anything, just holding his gaze in yours for a long moment before giving him a quick nod and riding off.

You rode out of town faster than you should have, gaining various shouts and complaints from the townspeople who'd nearly stepped in your way.

As you broke out into the open road, your mind swelled with thoughts.

D/n was dead, she’d been dead a long, long time and you really didn't need reminders of her life, especially not the parts she hated.

You didn't want to hate your cousin, you just did. He was an ass and so was the rest of his family, you guess that technically included you too, but you never really felt like they were your family- even when you were little. You were different, so they treated you different. You never knew what tipped them off so early. Maybe you played with the boys too much, or you were too rough with the girls. Whatever it was, they knew before you did, they considered their daughter dead before she was, and they treated you like you killed her.

You liked being dead now, you thought you wouldn't have to worry about your family anymore, they had a whole funeral for you and everything, you figured that they'd move on, that if you did run into them, they'd take you as a ghost and nothing more. Your cousin was always an asshole though, and could never quiet get with the program, that made y'all alike in some ways, but mostly it just drew a bigger rift between you and your family. Everybody loved him, but they hated you, wasn't that funny?

You skid to a stop right outside of camp, zoning back into your surroundings just in time. Hoping off your horse, petting her for a short moment before tying her to a post.

It didn't take long for Arthur to find you, having only been in camp a couple of minutes before he spotted you. Before he even reached you, he could see the grim look on your face as you sat on your cot, glaring at the ground.

Arthur sat next to you, rubbing your back with his hand for a short moment. Arthur wasn't really a touchy person, not in front of people at least, a soothing touch on the back was as close to a kiss as you'd get with this many people around.

You glanced up at him, meeting his eyes for a short moment before starting back down at the ground below.

It didn't take much for him to convince you to take a ride with him, especially when he offered to let you ride his horse with him, you appreciated it, knowing that yours would have bucked you off the moment you saddled her after you nearly ran her through camp. You almost felt bad- when you climbed on the horse behind Arthur, watching him avert his gaze from anyone who looked in your direction.

He wasn't ashamed, you knew that, he was just private, didn't like it when people paid too much attention to your relationship, or you at all for that matter.

You rode together for a long while, once you figured the road was clear enough, you wrapped your arms around Arthur and rested against his back, you felt him tense, then ask if you were okay, you nodded, he relaxed after a moment, quietly continuing down the road, he knew you weren't alright, not fully, but he figured talking could wait a couple of hours.

Now you're here, you sat on a rock while Arthur set up camp, when you mumbled an offer to help, he shot it down, reassuring you it was fine.

By the time food was cooked, the sun had set completely, the fire being the only source of light.

“- I swear I just…ran into somebody today.”

You could here the faint clink of silverware against the bowl as Arthur set it to the side.

“‘Somebody’ like who?”

You sighed.

“Like my cousin, Damien, ran into him in town today.”

You weren't fully sure you told Arthur about Damien, but when you looked up at him over the fire you could see a look of annoyance on his face, so you had to at least have mentioned him and his aggravating exploits.

“It's stupid, I just… I don't know. I thought that I would never run into them again, or maybe that they wouldn't recognize me if they did. But he called that little girl's name and it just felt like my heart had stopped.”

Starting down at the dirt, you heard Arthur push himself up off the ground, the dirt crunching beneath his boots. Then he was sitting right next to you, the stone just big enough to hold two queers at once. Meeting his eyes again, you opened your mouth to speak, but all that came out was a long, tired sigh.

“I know, “ he said, his voice so calm and soft, a tone reserved for those that deserved it, “come here, boy..”

And you did, leaning your head on his shoulder, buried in the nook of his neck, your arms just barely around him in an effort. He wrapped his arms around you far tighter, pulling you into him, feeling your shallow breaths as the day's events replayed in your mind.

“That's it, good boy,” he muttered.

A small smile formed on your face. You hummed in contentment, squeezing him a bit tighter, forcing a small chuckle out of him.

“You liked that?” you nodded, he laughed again.

“It's helping..”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

[thefloorisbalaclava]

I ADORE your writing (especially your possessive ghost headcannons🫣)

this thot has been rattling around my head for WEEKS I wanna see your take on it

imagine like needing to borrow someone’s shirt (idk urs got ruined or something) and ghost gives you one (it’s massive let’s not lie) and we’re out in the shared living space in the safe house talking to the boys and ghost goes feral (maybe has to excuse himself and everyone’s like ….okayyy and he comes back once people are gone and shows u how much he likes seeing you wear his stuff)

idk you can ignore this

thank you, love your work

pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader (in his thoughts) words: 1,208 warnings: SMUT [masturbation, dirty thoughts], ghost clearly has a thing for seeing you in his clothes.

a/n: sorry this took so long, anon. thank you so much for your sweet words!

[masterlist]

[part II]

The safe house didn’t have much room at all, but it wasn’t meant to. It wasn’t some long-term living arrangement. You all were meant to do what you needed to do and get out.

Simon didn’t mind sharing the space, he had been in much smaller spaces before. The one thing that was different this time was you.

He couldn’t quite remember the last time he shared such a close space with the fairer sex. And for some reason, it made him nervous like he was a young boy all over again. You were one of them so he didn’t understand why you had that effect on him.

He certainly wasn’t expecting to feel the way he did when he walked in to see you wearing his hoodie. He froze in place and you all stopped talking.

“Hey Simon,” Soap said, breaking the ice, but Simon’s eyes focused on you.

“That’s mine,” he said. She knows that, you idiot.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I was a little cold and I just grabbed the first thing I found. Um, I’ll take it off,” you offered.

“No, it’s fine,” he said before walking away. The talking resumed behind him as he closed his door and took a few deep breaths. He walked to the bathroom and snatched his balaclava off then splashed his face with water.

“Get a fuckin’ grip,” he murmured. After a few more moments alone, he decided to join the rest of them. He tried his best to keep his eyes off you, but God, did you look fucking perfect in his hoodie.

“Grabbing another beer. You guys want anything while I’m in there?” you asked, standing.

“Another beer,” Soap requested.

“Not for me,” Gaz said then it went quiet.

“Simon?” you called and he slowly turned to look at you. Damn… He hoped you hadn’t noticed the way his eyes scanned over your body. Not like he could see anything—you were practically swimming in his hoodie and it touched your knees. Still, you were quite a sight.

He wondered how you would look with nothing under it—how he would slowly pull it up your thighs, higher and higher until you were completely revealed to him. Your smooth skin under his rough hands. The sounds you would make when he finally reached your breasts…

“Simon, you okay?” you asked, bringing him back to the here and now.

“Um, nothing for me,” he said, clearing his throat and sitting down. You walked to the refrigerator and bent to grab the beers. He tried, once again, not to look at you, but failed horribly.

He couldn’t see much, but just know his hoodie was touching parts of you that he had only dreamed of and made him feel things he shouldn’t.

The night went on this way—you tempting him without even knowing and him trying not to give into the temptation.

At the end of the night, you stopped him before he went into his room.

“Thanks,” you said before pulling the hoodie up and off and folding it neatly.

“You don’t have to do that,” he told you but you had finished by then.

“Sorry I didn’t ask first.”

“It’s fine.” He wanted to say more but he couldn’t find the words. “Night then…”

“Goodnight.” You walked to your room and he walked into his.

He held the hoodie in his hands and ran his thumb over the material. He knew this piece of clothing well, but somehow it felt new. It was warm because of you and he wondered if…

He felt like a creep, but he bought the hoodie to his nose and smelled it.

“Fuck,” he sighed, feeling ashamed. How could a simple scent get him hard? He threw the hoodie on the bed.

He began to move as if in a daze, undressing down to his boxer briefs which is how he usually slept. After climbing into bed, he eyed the article of clothing that had become this tempting and tantalizing thing. Before he knew it, he was sliding his underwear down just enough to get his cock out.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes and began touching himself. He wasn’t going to reach for the hoodie, he wasn’t, but suddenly he wasn’t in control of his actions. His mind—now full of need and lust—pushed him to reach for it…and he did.

Your scent was still on it as he pressed the material against his face and breathed deeply, stroking himself faster.

“Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth. He thought of you in his clothes—on top of him, bent over, on your knees. Yes, you would be particularly gorgeous riding him with the hoodie on, everything hidden from him but he would know that you were completely naked under it.

Or bent over. Each of his thrusts send the hem inching up your spine until he decided to grab it and use it as a sort of makeshift handle.

He thought of you wrapped up in his hoodie touching yourself.

“Shit…fuck me…” he whispered, stopping to bring his hand to his mouth and spit before wrapping it around his cock again.

“Good girl,” he groaned as he imagined you, legs spread and touching yourself. You had to pull the sleeves up a bit to use your fingers, but the material still fell down around your hands and rubbed against you—your juices coating the sleeve.

He sniffed at the hoodie deeply and groaned again, shocked at how quickly he was about to cum.

Now he thought about how you would sound when you came. You would probably leave a nice, wet mess on his hoodie and that was fucking delicious.

He came with a low growl of your name, stroking every last drop out.

As he released himself and let his hand fall to his side, he couldn’t help but feel that shame again. He threw the hoodie to the other side of the bed and just looked at it before his face began to burn with embarrassment.

As he cleaned himself, he avoided looking in the mirror. He told himself he would have to put that hoodie away somewhere for a while. It was too close for comfort. As he would say in the field it was danger close.

But he didn’t put the hoodie away. Anyone who knew him knew he never shied away from danger, he embraced it.

He slipped the hoodie on before stepping out of his room, getting that quick whiff of you. It would be gone soon, but for now, he would enjoy it.

But when he saw you, he was overcome with shame again. He avoided eye contact as if looking at you would reveal that he had gotten off to your scent and illicit thoughts.

“That hoodie looks better on you,” you told him.

“Does it? It looked…nice on you, too,” he said quietly.

“Thanks,” you said with a sort of innocence that was long lost for him.

“If you need it again just let me know,” he offered.

“I might with all these cold days coming up,” you told him.

“It’s yours. You know where to find it.” With a nod, he walked away leaving you speechless.

[galacticseonghwa]

Can we pleeeeeease 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 get some jisung content 😞😞😞 any at all! Just need more pretty boy fics :((((💕💕💕

ofc my love! i hope you like this little writing <3

baby talk - Park Jisung

INCLUDES: non-idol!jisung x fem!reader, fluff, swearing, no plot whatsoever, feat. mark & renjun (barely), jisung being IN love w the reader, jisung & dreamies portrayed at an older age, talk about having kids together, no real ending, not too sure if i’ve got everything <3 wc: 538 a/n: not proofread

"when are you going to tell y/n?" mark questions jisung as the younger blonde male leans back in the chair he was currently sitting in and taps his fingers on his thighs nervously.

jisung snaps his head towards the older male with a bewildered expression, almost giving himself whiplash. "i can't just tell her, mark!" he whispers after leaning in towards the black-haired male next to him.

mark looks at jisung with his eyebrows scrunched in annoyance and what could only be described as disappointment, he wanted the younger male to express his feelings.

"and why not?" mark’s eyes fall onto your figure as you hold renjun’s 3-month-old son in your hands, watching your eyes twinkle as you smile down at the small human.

renjun laughs wholeheartedly as you rock his son in your arms while singing the theme song of play school.

jisung’s heart flutters at the sight, wishing to an unknown god somewhere out there that this would be yours and his future, your child your singing to.

"i'm not sure if she’s ready for that, what if she wants kids but not with me? what do i do then mark?" jisung ushers his worries out and shakes his head, eyes glittering with unwanted tears.

mark scoffs in disbelief as he listens to his younger best friend. "be so fucking serious right now, jisung" mark rolls his eyes, knowing damn well that you would want nothing more than to start a family with jisung.

jisung looks at mark confused. "have you not seen the way she looks at you?" mark questions, eyebrows raised in question as he stares at jisung.

jisung opens his mouth to answer but stops when he sees mark hold his hand up. "there is NO way on gods green earth, that she wouldn't want a child or children with you!" mark throws his facial towel at mark and gets up to leave.

later that night, you and jisung had ended up laying on his bed together while cuddling each other, you laying on top of his chest, legs entangled with your hands intertwined.

you hear jisung clear his throat before he softly runs his fingers through your hair. "y/n, baby?" his voice hesitant as he awaits your reply.

you hum and snuggle closer into him, loving the feeling of safety he gives you. "i- uh, i have a question." he pulls away from you to watch your reactions.

"go on." you say softly and stare up to him, with nothing but adoration and love for the man, his words leave his throat as he sees the love in your eyes, before he regains his thoughts.

"did you want, no. do you want to..." his words trail off as he watches you frown gently.

he shakes his head, removing his arms from you. "no never mind." he says quietly and tries to turn away from you. but you're quick enough to get up and straddle his hips.

jisung’s hands instantly take purchase on your hips, rubbing small circles with his thumbs as he stares up at you softly.

"i don't know why you doubt yourself so much, ji." you say softly and watch as his eyebrows crease in confusion.

"mark told me you want to have kids with me." you state with a ghost of a smile on your lips.

jisung’s face visibly goes red. "yes! but i totally understand if you don't want that! that's completely okay!" he rushes out.

"of course i want children with you jisung." you smile softly down at the man under you, who completely froze.

"i wouldn't want any one else to be the father of my children." you kissed his forehead softly.

all functionality came back to jisung as he quickly but carefully pulled you to him in a hug. "i love you, y/n" he whispered over and over again more to himself rather than to you.

[thatdeadaquarius]

Reader that can emit sounds from their memory(like as an aura)

Walk into a room? Why do I hear boss music

Comedic timing? Fuck yeah.

Bored? Jumpscare noise.

Zhongli talking? Jeopardy theme.

Someone is annoying? Earrape.

Think about it!

Hello! I’m the 12th Harbinger, aka as CHIL- bitch shut the fuck up, WHATS UP ITS YA BOY AQUARIUSSS- /ref

lmao imagine you walking into a room like this in teyvat, with like that audio I SAVE BY GIVING IT CPR- TIGHT AS VIRGIN BOY DONT GET NERVOUS-

(also ill stop apologizing for the late replies to these, bc as we all know by now that im slow and u will get answered eventually i promise tumblr most likely didnt delete u guys asks im just hoarding them LMAO)

I’ve been super busy running in circles so sorry about ghosting! I still very much enjoy and love u guys and love seeing you guys enjoy my stuff :’) 

Still cant believe that, but thank you!

JEOPARDY THEME MUSIC WHEN ZHONGLI TALKS

HE’D BE SO CONFUSED

THINKIN HE GOT AN ANCIENT CURSE HE DOESNT KNOW ABT PUT ON HIM OR SMTH BC HE’S ALWAYS BEING STALKED BY THIS SONG-

(tbh unless the person is super observant I dont think most ppl would get that it’s YOU causing this chaos lmao)

◇

Like I can see Zhongli eventually getting it lol, other ppl I could see after the first few weeks of interacting with you (esp bc you mix it up, honestly it was only bc u kept playing the jeopardy theme over and over when Zhongli ranted on too long that he got it was you 💀):

Heizou (he’s the best detective on all of Inazuma’s islands, ofc he got it! no he will not acknowledge that he totally thought you were hiding a very musical tanuki somewhere on your person at all times lol)

◇

Alhaitham and Cyno (haitham took like, two hours of walking around town with you and knew, bc he’s a little know-it-all lazy bastard like that, and Cyno is actually just really aware, despite what most ppl think, he’s the General Mahamatra and not just a regular Mahamatra for a reason after all)

◇

Tighnari (i stg he can like, smell when bullshittery is happening in his vicinity …or... hear?)

◇

Venti (unsurpringly, he’s totally in love with this power of yours, i mean he definitely loves you cares about you a lot he says, but you’re starting to think he’s just lying to butter you up into pranking Diluc, Barbara, Jean, and really the entirety of Mondstadt more often  including Zhongli just so he can laugh until he’s on the ground again, also he definitely once asked you to make a dragon sound that’s the equivalent of shouting FUCK at Dvalin when he was flying overhead one day)

◇

Hmm

Hm hm hmmmm

Who elseee, i need a characcctterrr lisstttt…

Albedo (duh, he’s albedo, you think he has an entirely too thick folder dedicated to your recent obsessions, you rant a lot about it while playing and also he can access your browsing history 👀, and he somehow doesn't know that about you?? You’re like, literally one of his long-term, there-for-life, has-bought-a-house-for-free-in-his-head-you- arent-even-on-rent-anymore, hyperfixations or special interests. Autistic!Albedo is autistic, Because I Am Your God, And I Say It Is So.)

◇

Dehya (always knows when its you walking around near her bc you like to listen to your old world’s songs too often when you arent pranking bitches, she actually rlly likes it and your music tastes…)

☆

HOLY FUCK SPEED RUN BC GOD THERE’S TOO MANY BITCHES WANNA BE YOUR BABY, RIDING AROUND IN A DAMN MERCEDES-

OKAY-

SO not all in the same way or at the same time, or even the same length of time did they realize you literally change background music or some shit so I’ll let you just- you know okay- like you get it- you get it.

Xiao, Kazuha, Kaeya, Diluc, Ayato, Yae Miko, Keqing, Qiqi, Klee, Sara, Kuki, Nahida, Ningguang, Rosaria, Scaramouche/Babygirl, Dainsleif, Kokomi, Xinyan, Yun Jin, Yelan. 

Jfc got the whole damn pride flag up here

Anyway everybody else outta luck, at least takes em a month or longer to get it lol

♡

Sorry abt the end there i didnt feel like writing out all those bitches bc the few I did before were already longer than I thought they’d be…

Also, I am posting these spam of drafts (and that old follower 100+ event possession headcanons in prep for the next 2 weeks bc I will be really busy, again :/

Got spring break shenanigans this week, then I’ll be running around like a cat with zoomies bc im getting ready to install/actually submit my artworks for the gallery exhibition! 

…wish me luck or prayers or anything good from any god you believe in, I need the strength. 

With love, safe travels,

💀♒️

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

[galactic-rhea]

possibly the most obvious ship i could send for the ask meme but anidala/vaderdala!

ohohoh of course, them!!!!

when I started shipping it if I did:

Probably since I started watching TCW and saw some fanarts! Which I know it's a bit odd because most people apparently dislike them in TCW (and yeah, when I finally watched the movies I get why!), but that very first iteration of them in i think, the second episode of TCW with them kissing in an enemy ship, with Obi-Wan a few metres away, and all because she randomly ran into danger, was very, very fun to me, so I shipped them in a "they're dorks" way.

Then a saw all the epic tragedy romance stuff and, yeah, i'm sold.

my thoughts:

I think I have said it before, but there's something very "bigger than life" about their romance, which is what kept me hooked beyond "is just funny". They're extremelly passionate people, with the height of the world on their shoulders, and with sides of them that no one but the other knew about each other. Particularly with Padmé becuase she's very cold and compossed most of the time (it's her politician facade!). Anakin overall is just very painfully obvious and easy to read, but he still kept many things from the world, and Padmé knew most of that iceberg, so to speak, and they still loved each other madly despite the ugly side.

What makes me happy about them:

They're just,,,very romantic and silly! When they're actually together and in a situation where they're allowed to relax, they're just very dumb and in love 😆 I think what it makes me so happy about them is that you could tell how happy they were with each other, despite being so miserable most of the time, they just loved each other so much and that's nice.

What makes me sad about them:

This doesn't need answer, lmao 😭😂 But yeah, the,,,tragedy and damnation, Anakin turning on her despite doing all of that for her on the first place hurts so much

things done in fanfic that annoys me:

I'll be honest, I haven't read that many fics that focus anidala? At least no yet, it's been less than a year since a got into this. But I guess it could be that,,,many times they're tagged and then in the fic it's barely mentioned, like sometimes it will be just Anakin randomly thinkin "ah yes, padmé" lol

Another thing could be that,,,ehhh Padmé rendered to just girlboss/dominatrix/ the one that just gives Anakin a glare to keep him on check as if he's a manchild. And the diametrically opposite of this which is just sad, crying, poor wife in a domestic abusive situation and Anakin being the epitiome of Evil Bad Boy Sexy Cool Kidnapper

things I look for in fanfic:

Honestly i just want them being fairly in-character, I feel like they're very easily misinterpreted. But again, everyone has a different opinon on them, I guess, so -shrugs- Probably more situations in which Anakin is the one kidnapped/wounded/in danger and Padmé has to do something about it, so hurt/comfort!

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

Ah....-scratches head- They're so obssesed with each other that it's hard for me to think about that. Like, sometimes I fancy for the giggles and jokes some other ships for them in like a passing crush way, like Anakin and Rex, or Padmé and Breha, but, their narratives are so damn tangled into each other's that it's hard to, but that's just me.

My happily ever after for them:

Anakin leaves the order, Padmé steps away from politics and run away to Naboo to raise their twins, like they always wanted 🥺

Alternatively, I like to believe their ghosts are very happilly looking over Luke and Leia,,,,,,,and also haunting and scaring some random privileged senators passing awful bills in Coruscant. They love writing messages on mirrors with red lipstick

who is the big spoon/little spoon:

I think Padmé likes to be the big spoon just to more easily bite and headbutt him. But they switch, i suppose, because I'm sure Anakin sometimes just really really wants to hpld her.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity:

Domestic: Just talking, the most boring and mundane stuff, but they just like talking.

Not so domestic: These two are wild souls, they probably enjoy randomly rushing to help some planet/cause/random battle, whatever. In an ideal scenario, this usually means rushing into the ship to go and bail their children out of jail, organize a heist, or a little slave liberation. While holding hands.

[froginabogg]

AND ANOTHER THING i also actually need to talk about the flashback family scenes in season one and why those specifically got chosen because hhhhhhh

jake's scene is a tender little moment with his mother, of course showing how much they mean to eachother and she takes care of him as much as he does her, and in one way firmly establishing gary as the ultimate loser dad, classic trope but look i'm a sucker for a momma's boy it's very endearing to me

i also find it interesting that, since jake is the only one without siblings, this is really ALL he has, it's football and his mother, those are his only driving forces and that little flashback is so fun because yeah, you could have figured out this part just from watching the rest of the episodes, but you need to know just HOW important she is and how angry the possibility of a better dad makes him in the alternate universe, she is truly his one lifeline

andy's scene also kind of lives rent free in my head, again because that dynamic with his grandma and his dad is so cool, his mother clearly loves him but she's not a main player in that family (i'll forever love you though mrs lau i would give my life for you), it's his dad and grandma that really set the tone, the constant theme of not being able to live up to her expectations radiating off the both of them, but his father made his peace with it and andy is still stuck in the thick of it, because every time he looks at his sister or at his father he's reminded of not being good enough

also the talk of ghosts and traditions being respected mirroring andy's aversion to magic until he can prove it definitively and just treat it as another subdivision of science that he can study and understand and control? mmmm i love that so much, very excellent little bit of characterisation, where does that need for control come from huh do you need to sit with that for a bit bud? also those dumplings looked great and i want some

i started writing this cause i was thinking about andy's scene and the about the others and i realised i forgot what sam's scene actually is, i think it might be him playing with his brothers? unless the mia scene is actually his flashback, which i am going to go with because that's more interesting actually

he has a whole loving family like i discussed in that other post, but the thing he is reminiscing on is mia, he is obsessed with her through the entire narrative and tries constantly to improve himself for her, it's really cool that that kind of disregard for others comes through in that flashback as well, when pressed, sure, he can tell you what his mum's favourite paintbrush is (OBSESSED with that) but really? he's thinking about himself, and it's one of the first flashbacks as well so it really immediately centers sam's character around, well, sam, and allows him all that wonderful room for growth

and felix, ohhhhh dearest felix, his flashback scene is clearly something that is always on his fucking mind, this bitch is tormented by guilt and he is constantly thinking about that moment no doubt, it's tragic of course to see and a logical choice for a flashback, but it really does SO much. we get a lot of jake's parents both real and au, and they are well established characters, same with andy's parents, we don't see a lot of sam's but it's clearly implied they are incredibly similar both in au and in real world

felix on the other hand, we hardly see any of his parents until the damn movie, and all of mrs ferne's character is in the alternate universe. it's around this time as well the boys start calling attention to felix being the only one happy to be stuck there, and then BOOM the flashback hits and the entire narrative shifts, your entire view is switched upside down cause not only is felix the one responsible for oscar's accident, but his parents, or at least his mother, clearly deeply blames him for it, and all of a sudden you're both angry at him for hiding this for so long and you understand him, because how awful to be fifteen and have that weight on your shoulders? i've felt guilty for so much less, and it makes mrs ferne's character so much more compelling to me, she's hurt and trying desperately to love both her sons but she is struggling, and it must fucking suck for felix to see her happy again when he's literally Not in Existence

[guardkeywolf]

Hello! Love ur fics sm btw!!

Idk if your taking requests but may you please write a male! Reader x any cod boi angsty smut. Like it’s an interrogation scene but the m/reader is being non- cooperative and a brat then the boys finally have enough then.. yk…

All good if you can’t though🫶🏾

Getting Answers the Hard Way (smut)

2,000+ words...

Wow...

Um... I shocked myself with how fast I wrote this but I hope it's to your liking @silly-little-grot !

I did also mention one of my OC's within it if you don't mind...

WARNING: There are mentions of blood, scars, but it's mostly mild

I hope you enjoy!

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Y/n wasn't pissed when he got caught by the 141, but he had no intentions on letting them get any information out of him. 

They didn't plan on treating him nice when they wanted information either, so he opted to stay silent the entire time. 

Of course, this led to him getting plummeted by the man with the skull mask but Y/n didn't even bother flinching at the pain. He stared at the man deep in the eyes and just smiled. The man just glared at him angrily and sighed before leaving the room. 

Y/n hardly registered where his knife had pierced through his skin but barely paid attention to it as he wondered who they would send in next.

The masked man was the third of the four to come into the place they were holding Y/n, not that he was concerned but eventually he would have to get out of here and report back to his own superiors...soon.

While lost in his own thoughts, Y/n didn't hear the door open again as the black male stepped into the room.

"I'm surprised Ghost didn't crack you… He usually scares the shit out of anyone" he chuckled out, finally gaining Y/n's attention as he whipped his head up to look at the man standing before him.

Y/n stared at him with blank eyes before letting his own eyes scan over the man's features. Y/n couldn't help but smile at the attractive snack in front of him. 

The thin little hips were making him go wild, those sharp beautiful browns gazed into his very soul, the perfect height, and his voice… Damn he wanted to rail the very being out of the young Brit. 

The male stared at him in confusion before sighing and walking up to him and pulling Y/n by his collar harshly to look at him.

"You have information that we need. No point to keep it to yourself..." he growled out while pressing deep into the bullet wound in his thigh making Y/n smile even more at his eagerness as the pain spread through his body like a wildfire. 

It was cute to watch him, honestly. So why not toy with him a bit more?

"I didn't know the 141 kept such beauties around..." a knife was now going through the same thigh he had gotten shot in but he continued to ignore it as he watched the black male look at him, a much more pissed expression now painting his face.

"I don't think to realize just how fucked you are... so I suggest you either cooperate or we'll have to do things the hard way," he pulled his hair back this time, hard as Y/n just laughed at him.

"Oh don't worry, I'm already halfway there... in the meantime, why don't you tell me your name, cutie?"

The hit to the ribs made him cough up blood, but he still smiled up at the man.

Y/n really did want to know his name, he was damn near gorgeous to look at.

"You're disgusting...you know that?"

Y/n laughed more as he coughed up even more blood than before.

"Well it's hard to not be when I got a beautiful specimen standing in front of me... and I know you want me-"

The punch to his jaw was definitely going to sting for some time but Y/n didn't mind... the beauty in front of him could do whatever he liked as far as he was concerned.

The male walked out the room angry, slamming the door as he stormed out to his team.

"Any progress, Gaz?" Soap asked him.

"He spoke...but he's weird. It's like he doesn't even register pain-"

"HE SPOKE?! Not even Ghost could make him talk, mate!" The Scottish man said in surprise.

"Yeah, but he keeps calling me a beauty and everything... Are you sure he never said to the rest of you?"

"Nope, you're the first... Oh, we also got a name now for him... Y/n."

Gaz sighed and nodded before making his way back into where they were holding... Y/n.

The man looked the same as he left him, bloody and beaten but still smiling up at him.

"Hey, Beautiful... Miss me?"

Gaz was going to be honest, Y/n still looked too damn good considering the amount of scars and bruises they had left on him... it was partially unfair in his opinion.

"Shut up, Y/n..."

"Likewise, Gaz..." Y/n responded.

Gaz wasn't even mad that the man knew his codename, before grabbing his collar and kissing him fully on the lips.

Y/n looked surprised but continued fucking smiling at him regardless.

Gaz let himself get seated in the man's lap, and damn could he feel Y/n's member, as he continued to kiss him before groaning at not being able to get the man's shirt off.

"You're gonna have to let me out of these, Beautiful..." he shook his chains to make his point.

Gaz was going to say no, but at this point his mind was made up as he unlocked the chains they had put on Y/n's wrist.

With his wrist no longer chained, Y/n took Gaz into his arms and pulled him closer by his waist as his tongue breached Gaz's mouth.

The Sergeant cried against his mouth he felt the man squeeze his ass painfully as he tugged him even closer to his body.

Gaz quickly stripped himself of his gear, still keeping his gun and knife near, and doing the same with Y/n.

Surprisingly, Y/n was gentle with him, but Gaz didn't let his guard down despite the vast amount of pleasure he got from the man.

"You're tense, Beautiful... what makes you think I'd hurt you?"

"You're 2 times my size for one, now stop talking and fuck me," Gaz growled out again as he pulled Y/n into a deeper kiss this time.

Y/n was quick to listen as he quickly stripped Gaz himself and began to kiss down his chocolate skin slowly. Gaz let out soft moans as Y/n worked his way down his chest sinfully, looking up at Gaz each time making him turn away from his gaze and blush furiously.

As Gaz grasped and moaned from Y/n's skillful tongue, he finally managed to get a sentence out.

"Y-Y/n...fuck...eat me out n-now," he whined before turning onto his stomach and presenting his ass to their enemy.

Y/n watched in awe before picking Gaz up and laying him on the table so he could see his face.

"We are not fucking on the floor, Beautiful... You deserve better than that" Y/n said as he dropped to his knees and pulled Gaz to the edge of the table before lifting his legs up and letting his tongue swipe at the Sergeant delicious hole.

Gaz jumped at he cold and slimy feeling run over his hole before grabbing Y/n's head and pulling him closer. The man's tongue danced around his insides wildly as he ate out Gaz's sweet hole. It got even better when Y/n added in a finger to stretch him even more.

Gaz had to cover his mouth to hide his screams from the others as their prisoner rimmed him all too well.

He hated how good Y/n's tongue felt inside him, he hated how hot Y/n was, he hated his voice, his eyes, his everything. He hated how much he was enjoying this.

Gaz was sure one of the soldiers had already saw or heard them but would rather worry about it later, especially when Y/n stood up after loosening his hole more than ever.

Gaz hardly had enough energy to even lift himself up to look at Y/n before feeling something press against his hole.

The Sergeant shivered as he felt Y/n run his member over his hole even more, watching some of the pre-cum run down it as well.

It was menacing to even look at when Gaz saw it.

"You got any lube, Beautiful? I can't exactly go in raw..."

"G-Go find it yourself," Y/n stared at him still and he sighed, "first pocket on my vest..."

"Well aren't you naughty... I can only wonder who you'd keep this around for..."

Gaz only scoffed as he thought of a certain Leopardian-Arachnian that he knew as Y/n walked back over to him.

He squirted some back onto his hand before rubbing some on his dick before aligning himself with Gaz's hole.

Without warning, Y/n pushed in and waited while Gaz got use to his size.

Y/n gripped at his thighs tightly as the Sergeant tried his best to adjust while he tried his best not to move.

"Come on, Beautiful..." but the man was quickly shut up when Gaz tightened around him making Y/n groan quietly to himself.

"Just move dammit," he cried out as Y/n thrust into his vigorously.

Somehow, this man managed to his his prostate spot on, making the him scream before trying to regain focus himself.

Gaz hung on to Y/n's shoulders for dearly life when Y/n fucked him against the table before picking him up and fucking him into the wall.

The man's pace ruthlessly abused his prostate, even making the poor Sergeant hiccup ever so often.

Y/n kissed him deeply and Gaz couldn't even make himself hate it even if he wanted too. Their prisoner was doing so well that he could hardly keep up with his pace before coming himself on the wall.

Y/n was surprised and quickly pulled out of Gaz, making the man whine, before moving them to the chair with Y/n sitting down while Gaz straddled him.

Y/n didn't bother moving when he sat the Sergeant back on his member. He enjoyed watching him struggle to get some friction and he rolled his hips slowly.

"Y/n I fucking swear-"

"Fucking yourself on my dick and I'll give you the information you want."

Gaz's eyes opened in shock as he looked at the man he was supposed to be interrogating.

"You're lying-"

"I have no reason to lie to you, Beautiful, especially after this lovely treat you've already given me..." he thrusted up into him, making Gaz squirm in front of him as he put his hands out on Y/n's chest to steady himself.

"Fuck me..." was all Gaz said before using the last of his remaining strength to fuck himself on Y/n's cock, rolling his hips every now and then to relieve himself.

Gaz lifted his hands to Y/n's, grabbing them and leading them to rest on his ass before wrapping his own arms around Y/n's neck and grab his hair and pull him into a kiss.

Gaz's pace quickened as he bounced up and down on the man's cock before finally slamming himself back down and feeling Y/n feel him up.

The Sergeant gripped Y/n's scared shoulder as he looked at him and leaned in close just before their lips touched.

"You owe me that information, Y/n..."

Y/n, slightly annoyed that he didn't receive a kiss, obliged anyway.

"Let's redress at least-"

"Info. Now." He said sternly.

Y/n sighed but smiled and told him while trying to make each sentence as lengthy as possible, even adding extra information to make sure he stayed inside the Sergeant for as long as possible.

"Good boy," Gaz said as he watched Y/n face light up at the nickname.

"Why thank you, Beautif-"

Y/n groaned as Gaz decided to full unsheath himself from Y/n, watching the way some of his release slipped out of Gaz or was either still connected too Y/n member with a thin string.

Gaz huffed out a laugh as he tried to walk but ended up falling back on top of Y/n.

"Damn you..." Gaz said as his legs refused to work.

"You know you don't have to keep me in these chains, Beautiful... I'll tell you everything about the people I work for if you'll have me," Y/n grinned up at him, hoping he'd accept his offer.

"As lovely as that'd sound, I can't..."

Y/n looked at him in confusion before watching Gaz bring up one of his hands.

A simple silver band hugged his ring with a blue line going through it. He glared at it full of angst as he could only wonder who had claimed Gaz. As he did so the Sergeant on top of him chuckled a bit, before sitting up to look at him with a glint in his eye.

"So, ever heard of the C.L.A.W.S?"

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I DEFINITELY did not expect to finish this today but I did...

So yeah!

If you enjoyed this please feel free to REBLOG using the TAGS

Tags help make navigating yalls Tumblr pages easier

Thank you for reading!

-Guards

[tiramegtoons]

Okay so last night i finished watching the entirety of Okage Shadow King and-

.... I dont even know where to start. this is unlike any game ive watched or played before. It felt so weird yet so enticing and half of the time i couldn't tell if my brain was rotting or there was just some real deep lore or hidden meaning in here Maybe both??? and it left a strange, creepy, yet longing and nostalgic feeling in the back of my head too.

Let me explain.

spoilers ahead!!!

okay so First of all, the visual style of the game looks awesome I loved the characters and the dynamics going on between the NPC's and especially the main characters. I loved enjoying the witty banter and arguing between Stan and Rosalyn the most. But also, why is Stan insulting and body shaming her so much SHE AINT EVEN FAT??? i LOOK AT HER MODEL AND IM LIKE BRUH

for some odd reason i still found it funny though. Some of the humor might've even been exaggerated to a degree as well(not sure if that was intentional). Even if the writing and dialogue was a bit lost in translation, maybe perhaps, it was still pretty good as a whole and it caught me by surprise.

As for the world and NPC's... something definitely felt off at the beginning and i guess thats what gave me the initial unsettling feeling. Everyone just seemed so bent on doing their own part like dude i couldn't even explain to you Our main protagonist, Ari, is just a wet pathetic little boy who lets everyone step on him/lh Damn, even his own family doesn't seem to care much for him as an individual person and doesn't consider that he has his own ambitions and it rubbed me in a weird way. and yet for some reason i was still hooked. and then came STANLEY HIHAT TRINIDAD THE FOURTEENTH(the 3d challenged flappy shadow)to sweep our poor little boy off his feet and make him his "slave"(adoptive son/j) so he can conquer the world bfhdgsdvhgdfbgdhjg which btw how could anyone take any "evil king" that seriously with a name like that? I LOVE IT. i really enjoyed him getting his ghostly ass handed to him by the NPC's it was hilarious. He was-without a shadow of a doubt(hehehehehe)- the best character. Also it's so funny how he claims to be an evil king but intentionally and unintentionally does good things? I love that trope with villians. Anywho getting off track a little, Another thing that struck out to me was the soundtrack. It's pretty unique, but at times can get pretty repetitive. The ones i enjoy a lot are -Forest of willkur(just really encompasses the feel of the entire game) -Evil King Battle and my favorite- -Addashi Desert(got me in a shimmy FR)

YEAAAAAAAAAA

anywho going back to repetitive things... Eeeeeee... the fighting mechanics are sure something(GOD WHY ARENT THE COMMANDS BEING CARRIED OUT ON TIME WH- IS THE GAME POSSESSED??? DID STAN POSSESS THE GAME???) Also why are there ghosts in broad daylight?? WHY ARE THERE SO MANY GHOSTSSSS) i get it, you do need to grind for items and XP in this game but it looks pretty tedious, especially deep grave pit... oh lordy dude there are literally eight floors in the cave its not a cave its the 7 circles of hell(plus front desk)/j I don't wanna dunk on this game but the fighting could use improvements. Back to the story... i like the melancholy turn it takes when princess Marlene was revealed to be a doll which made total sense when Stan found she had no soul, the reveal of Beiloune's true identity, and when Ari becomes totally ignored and forgotten by just about everyone and from that point going forward the game took a more serious turn... also why does Triste(which means sad in spanish and i see what they did there-)

... why does that remind me of the wasteland from Epic Mickey where other people who've been forgotten reside there... also the dark, odd vibe of both games kinda match too. Another thing, I'm not sure if anyone else had the same thoughts but did anyone else expect a twist where Ari would become the evil king??? i mean, if this was a supposed journey of our main character who is always reminded about how much of a pushover he is would've lead me to think that the buildup would lead to something like Beiloune making him all powerful and force him to fight against his friends. But the last chapter also surprised me with its own twist and im digging that too. but yeah just about everything was coming back together about why the world was and felt as it is. its always the butler isnt it? Also Stan's final form:

I CANT-

im sorry i can't take this seriously when he's just letting them hang out like that(his moobs)

... anywho that happened. As for any hidden meanings and morals I'll have to talk about that later cause my smooth brain still cannot grasp. And its just

SO MUCH