#I manage to do on my own. And nothing seems to help so I'll just keep on punishing myself for it bc if it cannot be fixed

[beef-brisket]

Adam laughed as he exited the party, waving to a few of the guests. In all of his years in Heaven, he never thought he'd enjoy parties. That's not saying Heaven didn't have any, but they were very different fmto the ones in Hell. Alcohol definitely wasn't allowed. But Adam won't lie. He enjoyed being drunk, it was unlike anything he's ever experienced.

He could do without the hangover, though.

Tonight, he was able to get out of his head and stop worrying about Steve and Lucifer. And his meeting with Asmodeus tomorrow where he finds out where on Earth he'll be going. That's if he even gets there. He wasn't too sure if Ozzie's plan for putting a different "mispelled" name would work. Lucifer's an idiot, but he's not THAT stupid.

Adam sighed and wrapped his arms around himself as he walked back to Verosika's house. He could feel that anxiety prickling at his skin. That worry flooding back. After everything he did to get rid of it, it comes back like Adam didn't just spend nearly six hours getting wasted.

Adam: Fuck me...

Speaking of, he didn't even get laid. He was still getting used to this "needing sex for energy" thing, but he just doesn't feel like it.

Adam's been away from Steve for nearly a week, and he could feel the need pulsing through him. He could ignore it for now, but hopefully, he would be on earth before it becomes unbearable.

Sighing, Adam looks around, watching other hellborn do their thing. Stumbling out of bars, singing loudly with their friends as they walk down the street, lining up outside food vendors.

He hoped that one day, his life would be normal like that. A day where he'd have no worries, he wouldn't be scared to go out, afraid of who he would run into.

Groaning as his stomach grumbled, he decided a good meal should help with the anxiety. At least, he hoped.

-

Adam: WHAT?!

Ozzie sighed as he placed the paper back on his desk: I'm sorry, Adam-.

Adam: Declined?! He declined it?! He- I thought you said he's never declined an application before!

Ozzie pinched the brow of his nose. He fucking talked to Lucifer about this, he was only going to drive Adam away. And even the Sin could tell he was struggling down here.

Ozzie: He doesn't. He hasn't... stupid bastard... he's an idiot, babe. Look. You don't want to be here, I understand-.

Adam covered his face with his hands: It's not that- I just... my manager... I was hoping to get away from him, too. And now... I'm fucking stuck here.

Ozzie: Your manager?

Adam nodded: He's been... close to finding me. I can't hide at Ver's place forever. She has her own shit to do. I'll have to go back to-.

Shaking, Adam couldn't finish his sentence before he started crying. He was terrified to go back to Steve to see him again.

Ozzie: Oh, darling.

Adam cried more when he felt himself be softly embraced and pulled into a warm hug. He just wanted this to be over. He was trapped in Heaven, and just when he was finding himself in Hell, Steve took advantage of his new freedom. And now, Charlie, Vaggie, and Nifty just HAD to tell Lucifer about him. So now, he has two crazy assholes on his ass.

Ozzie: I'm so sorry, Adam. Really. I am.

Adam: I-It's o-ok-okay-.

Ozzie: No, it's not. You're the first man. The commander of the exorcists. Nothing should scare you. But you're petrified. You're in my ring, Adam. You're one of my people now, and you know what? I like you. Really. You're an interesting person, and the Lust Ring could really benefit from having you here.

Adam slowly looked up at Ozzie: R-Really?

Ozzie smiled: Really. I want to help you, Adam. There's five other rings in Hell. All of them filled with the horniest fuckers ever born. I'll help you set yourself up somewhere else. Or, if you like Lust, I'll employ you.

Adam: Employ me? What does that mean?

Ozzie: You can still do your shows, or you could sing at my bars. And get all of the sex your heart desires. And be paid, of course~.

Adam: A... bar singer...?

Ozzie: I know it may seem like a downgrade, but their all very fancy. Trust me. I only ask one thing in return.

Adam: What's that?

Ozzie smiled: Of you're comfortable, I'd love for you to model some sex toys for me. All for advertisement, of course. You're a very attractive man, Adam. And you need to be seen. But of course, all of this is only with your consent, even if you say no, I'd love for you to sing and perform at my establishments.

Adam thought about for a moment: ...Okay. I'll do it.

He smiled up at Ozzie, who smiled back: I'll write your contract up then. I'll have my receptionist bring you in when it's ready.

Leaving the room, Adam felt a wash was relief. He was finally doing something that he was actually excited about. He's never performed in front of a small crowd before, but he was willing to do anything to make a name for himself, his way.

That didn't mean he didn't want to kill Lucifer for declining his application, but he was ready for this next step. He didn't need Steve, and he sure as hell didn't need Lucifer.

Succubus au

@beef-brisket

@fanofstuff01

(This au was originally on @things-aren't-what-they-seem66blog and was originally thought of by an anonymous ask)

The roaring of the crowd and the playing of his guitar deafened his ears but the incubus didn't care. He loved the way they cheered his name while he shredded on his axe. With one final strum, his song was done. He raised his arms and gave the horns, to which his fans reciprocated, and bid them all goodnight. He walked away his hands still raised until he was out of sight from them. Adam sighed heavily and wiped the sweat with his forearm as he made his way to his dressing room.

Once there he flopped onto the couch and groaned. Though Adam loved being a rockstar and having adoring fans, he wouldn't lie to himself, each performance, especially concerts, can be quite draining since he always had to prepare with mic checks and making sure he sounded right. Steve, his producer/manager/on-and-off-again fling, always assured him that these were mandatory. Just one of those sacrifices that come with being a star. Still, Adam felt a little like shit and he needed a drink, a hard one. Unfortunately, his evening wasn't quite over yet as knocking was heard from the other side of the door then a voice called out.

Assistant: Excuse me? Commander? I'm sorry for bothering you but I brought the VIP guests here with me.

Adam sighed completely forgetting about that. Almost all VIPs get access to meet him after every show. Though he loved his fans coming to him and saying how much they loved him, maybe even getting some head from the older crowd, tonight, he didn't want to. However, he knew that he didn't have much of a choice. Unless he wanted Steve up his ass, and not in a good way. Letting out a long groan he sat up, rubbed his eyes, and yelled out to her.

Adam: Bring them in.

He closed his eyes and sighed once again as he heard the door open and feet shuffle in. He prepared himself for the immediate responses of squealing and clamoring over to shake his hand. However, he was not prepared for a familiar voice to call out his name.

Charlie: A, Adam?

He opened his eyes and standing in front of him were Charlie, Vaggie, and a one-eyed sinner.

[apeninastory]

ivan as a tragic-love character (pt.4a?)

DISCLAIMER: doing this for fun + because i love ivan + because my brain needs to. nothing abt it is carved in stone and i'm open to discuss abt it like adults do - i just excitedly wanted to share my take on ivan in a more articulated way.

OF COURSE i have to. of course. i managed to listen to nowhere a couple of times on the 31st and i won't shut up abt the new song anytime soon - especially since it's coming out AGAIN in a couple of hours!!!!! sit tight, this is gonna be a long ride.

let's break things down a bit, because i need to process the entire thing and this means i have to make lists and explain and ponder on what i write then fix it and keep writing and whatever

1] ivan's past 2] ivan's adoption by unsha + wife [or, a symbol of love for a character who deems himself unlovable] 3] ivan at anakt, with other characters 4] mimetic strategy 5] ivan and till [cheer up?] 6] the making of ivan's character - by ivan himself 7] meteor shower [or, the turning point of the narrative] 8] sua, hypocrisy and how it may not have been totally intended on ivan's part - until it was 9] nowhere 10] black sorrow 11] ivan, love and his shallow emotion 12] cure

i'll start here with the first 4-5 points

let me say i have no access to the patreon stuff, so what i know is based on: twt, original material on yt, twt again, ppl's fan arts and talking and my own delulu brain. also, i love ivan, so i may be not-totally-reliable on certain things, but you got the idea.

1] ivan's past.

what i know is that he lived in the slums - so filth, violence, a life dominated by a perpatual sense of insecurity (and with this i mean a lack of stability related to survivability, not strictly personality-wise), poor health and poverty was probably ivan's dailiness.

he wasn't alone - there were other kids, they probably lived all clustered togehter - for warmth, protection, complicity, company? also maybe, just like till and his provider/mother, they belonged to some sort of human factory, only this was probably illegal, given the differences in conditions. what we can infer is that life for him was far from violence-free; that ivan knows how to light a fire with rocks from his life in the slums, probably to fend off the cold; that he got used to insults, denigration, mistreatments as something that is part of his daily life.

this routine shapes his view of the world - as something dangerous, where one needs to be practical if they won't to survive, where misbehaving leads to death. it also shapes the way he sees himself, highlighting flaws more than his value and merits.

that being said, did he know abt the "cries"? abt how precious human singing is to aliens? i am honestly not quite sure abt this, but i guess he didn't. if he was "produced" in an illegal factory, it was probably only for the sake of becoming an anonymous pet-human - we know not all of them can sing in alien stage.

what we identify as an abusive, brutal, cruel treatment (objectively speaking) was ivan's daily life. his perception of it is inevitably different from ours/how it would be perceived from an external pov - or to be more exact, from an unaltered (?) pov.

[no wonder the song sounds so laidback, resigned - he is used to it.]

once deemed ready/aged enough (?), the kids are taken away, ready for auction - i guess. they probably tried to run away together, helping each other out

[though i wonder: i'd say they can identify other kids as good/comrades and aliens as bad/captors, but from various illustrations, they seems to live in the streets, albeit possibly controlled by aliens all the same. do they have enough food for everyone? is it evenly distributed? i guess not. so not all kids maybe saw each other positively. maybe they even betrayed each other for the sake of survival. poor babies...]

i was saying. they probably tried to run away. we see it in r3, glimpses of pre-anakt ivan. we know ivan is good at escaping/evading alien guards, and he must have picked it up somewhere (the hard way, since he was clearly captured here). here, they are taken away from the slums (?) to the auctions place (?), where ivan then gets adopted by unsha.

i'm guessing the alien here is threatening him to behave - they shouldn't rough the kids up too much, or else they'd be hard to sell, right?

what i find heartbreaking here is how ivan looks tired and resigned. he is so little and he must have experience so many negative inputs. he is so used to it that he is not even watching the alien - his eyes are focused on the sky. i guess it wasn't much visible from the slums, so it may be the first time? and he sees meteors.

now, for someone living in such a dark environment (both figuratively and concretely), falling stars must have been so touching, so beautiful, yet so painful - for being so far and so gorgeous and making him feel moved.

it's like when we listen to a beautiful song or see a wonderful painting or read a book that touches our souls - art does that to you. it's a selfless form of love, something left by someone else, a gift. of course there are tears in his eyes, falling stars are a wonderful sight for everyone, so i can understand ivan being awestruck by it.

[he sees the stars and maybe his little kid heart starts hoping? but then aliens treat him like an object, like an either-you-behave-or-it-won't-end-well and he starts to believe that an existence like his is destined to violence/negative things]

he must have partly feel frustrated, right? different emotions at play, all at once, can be overwhelming. he has tears in his eyes while he his held by the alien and suspended on empty air, he must also be scared, but in a very resigned way. no wonder he numbed is heart down.

2] this leads us to his adoption and unsha.

i guess ivan's demeanour fit unsha's plan - calm, smart, self-sufficient, not demanding in terms of attentions. the fact that he can sing must be a plus, and unsha is nothing but a business-alien, so he invests in ivan.

ivan's commodification starts right at his adoption.

as far as i know, he is adopted as a gift to unsha's wife for valentine's day, which "becomes" his birthday. we don't even know when he is actually born, which is so sad i wanna bang my head somewhere.

he becomes the object of someone else's marriage, a symbol of love without being at the receiving end of that form of affection. he probably doesn't know what love is, nor has he supposedly heard of it, so again, what he doesn't know remains far from his knowledge (but not from ours).

ivan represents love but does not benefit from it, emotionally. what he gains from it, is a "better" or more stable living environment. ivan has learned to be practical, we said, so he sees how having a roof on his head, food in his stomach and better sanitary conditions are all logical reasons to keep playing to unsha's tune despite him being an alien. we see him behaving - a party is thrown for him (fan meeting info: we know parties are thrown for his birthdays by unsha), he wins some sort of award (?), he practises singing.

all with the same, numb-like expression. he does how he is told and he survives. that's the end of the deal.

3] here comes anakt, friendship and love.

now. what forms of affection could ivan have come to know up to this point? a comradery-like sort of family in the slums? if that's the case, it should be a co-dependent/independent type of relation, where all the kids depended on each other to survive but were aware of being ultimately on their own - until someone either died or betrayed or got taken away. so it was born out of desperation and to fend off loneliness.

ivan doesn't know what healthy love is. doesn't know how it is to rely on someone completely and then slowly learn to stand on your own feet and become a person upon whom others can rely. doesn't know how to balance his need for someone's closeness while respecting the other person's indipendence. no such things have been taught to him in the slums - no adult, healthy humans were probably in his life (long enough?) to pose as models.

teachers at anakt were worried about him not being able to form relationships with others (i think this info is in the public diaries from anakt garden?), and there are comments of anakt kids not having many info abt him or not knowing how to approach him.

4] so what changes? ivan starts to imitate his peers' way of socially interacting with each other

kids in anakt are not like the kids in the slums. they live "healthily", they study and develop skills, they create bonds, they play in the garden - it seems like the perfect receipt for a "normal" childhood, though we know what hides beyond the system. but it is the first time ivan experiences all this, and with his life-baggage? seeing how carefree many children are there (mizi, for example), how can he not notice how different him and them are? what comes natural to others is foreign to him.

he is not the only one to notice. aliens probably criticized this of him, forcing him to train how to smile to appear more friendly and child-like. ivan was not used to kids his age being carefree, so it must have been hard for him to approach them and appear approachable. he inevitably links his ability to make himself liked to how friendly and natural his smile looks, so he practices alone. what else? i already said this in my analysis of black sorrow, but i think that in order to fit in, ivan observed other kids and tried to imitate them.

the problem was that while they behaved spontaneously, ivan's reaction must have seemed forced, especially in the beginning. he sees everyone doing this funny thing stretching their lips that lightens their faces, as he is "taught" during medical experimentation. he tries, he trains, and slowly, he integrates. he becomes good at studying, he obeys and notices positive results in himself, adult aliens like him, his values as a commodity in his business relationship with unsha increases.

he is usefull, skilled, liked. eyes are on him, but he has grown numb to it all - out of survival instict. in the slums, he probably tried not to attract too much attention, so studying to be a performer and be good at it must require a certain effort to adapt. what helps is probably the fact that all the other children were going through similar things, so by observing them, just like he does with his smiling exercises, he knows he can learn. he can become better, become more useful, ensure himself good chances of survival.

5] and then, his heart stirs.

i don't think it was love at first sight - let's not reduce this to love, for ivan and alnst characters offer us a whole spectrum of emotions.

ivan is too pragmatic for that, and his love - his obsession - for till seems to spark and then grow the more he observes him. at the beginning, it is not even abt affection, imo. no, it's that all children have rules to follow and routines to abide to, even the painful ones, but there is this cute boy with fiery teal eyes raging against the darkness, shining the brightest when he lets emotions consume him, and ivan can't stop looking because he is gathering data observing others and trying to be like them. and he can't understand till.

i feel like crying if i think abt how much till must have affected little ivan, to the point that we know he associates till with the most beautiful thing he saw right after coming out of the slums - falling stars. there is something painfully romantic abt it, which also enforces the narrative of ivan self-assigning the role of the tragic-love character to himself.

[after all, none of them knows love. no, none of them knows how articulate and complex love is, they probably only know scattered definitions coming from books aliens have abt humans behaviours and traditions. ivan likes literature. he probably read abt love there, and lacking the direct experience of family-love or other healthy forms of love, he can only research what love may be about from there and from what surrounds him]

so till comes into his life and, like ivan does with everyone else, he observes him. till behaves in ways that go against the norm ivan had come to know, accept and adopt as line guide. ivan has all the reasons to categorize till as annoying; despite that, despite being aware of what makes till different and a stranger to the model ivan built in his head, he finds himself drawn to him. we could say that till is one of the most important sparks of humanity lighting up inside ivan.

[i think people whose emotions are numbed/strictly controlled by rationality tend to be interested/attracted (not romantically or sexually, or not only) by those who are fiery and open abt them, like puzzle pieces that fit together.

what we see in black sorrow speaks abt the inevitable attraction ivan comes to feel for till. that this emotion, for ivan, becomes love, is another matter, because not everything needs to be read as romantic. but before that, we see kid-ivan finding in kid-till something that is worth his attention and devotion - something that easily becomes ivan's light in the dark.]

i think one of the reasons he liked orbiting around till is that till doesn't care abt him pretending, abt his perfect smiles, abt the things he has to fix in order to be approachable to other kids' eyes. no matter what ivan does to rile till up, till doesn't let ivan fool him.

i imagine getting till's attention must have been hard, for ivan. till feels to me like a love-at-first-sight character, so he may have fallen in love with mizi the moment he saw her, not perceiving ivan's gaze on him. when till watches mizi and sua playing with flowers and wants to do the same, ivan probably didn't think much abt trumpling on the flower crown - he just wanted to attract till's attention. he suceeded. violence + riling till up seems a good receipt to achieve what ivan wants.

he keeps doing that, and with time, he understands when he can push and when he has to stop. he realizes how much more sensible than him till is, and i think he learns to cherish this side of till, as well as make it a part of himself. ivan becomes gentler. that is probably why he offered a truce at a certain point (thank you vivimeng fan meeting drawings!!), saying to till that he found it annoying to always have to measure his force to avoid hurting him too much.

loving till starts by trying to imitate him. ivan observes him, knows he can't be like him, reacts to till in unexpected and hard-to-control ways, and feels emotions that are entirely his own. for someone who had grown numb to his surrounding, how strange and terrifying and exciting must have been!

he cheers flower up fully knowing it is useless, imitating and humoring till - and then does the same, spontaneously i'd say, during the interview preceeding his doom and in the room where he finds till before r6, nuzzling till's face tenderly, trying to cheer him up. ivan imitates, absorbs and delivers - but only with till, it seems, he finds himself doing things more spontaneously, uncalculated, things that are not much logical or beneficial to him.

[growing up, maybe he thinks that's love, tries to label it as much, but feels like his emotions lacks the pureness and intensity of mizi and sua's love, so he thinks he can't call it that - instead, he goes for "shallow emotion"]

PART 2

[dragonji]

slept through my regular morning therapysesh bc i was up til 5am last night (due to my eternal and increasingly-powerful nemesis insomnia) and like yeah its not a big deal im trying to reschedule itll be Fine however. still think i need to *** tho lol<3

[churipu]

OUTFIT CHECK 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, iatdori yuuji x reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. jjk men being in love with you.

note. i'm back! i managed to fit in writing this in the middle of my midterms, i just finished my qualitative research paper for the midterms and i have 3 more take home exams to do. i hope you like this piece <33

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

you stood in front of the mirror, shifting your body from side to side, eying your reflection from different angles. raising a brow, you heaved out a soft sigh — before eventually twirling to face gojo who had been sitting on the edge of the bed. his icy blue eyes had been gazing at you for as long as you've been standing in front of the mirror against your reflection.

"'toru, do you think i look—"

gojo hushes you, putting a finger onto your lips, shutting you up immediately, "no, you don't look bad, and no your outfit doesn't look weird. you look beautiful," he rattles with a small smile.

"but i just feel like something's wrong with my combination," you said, stepping back to disperse from his finger, "like something's out of place. i just don't know what . . ."

gojo slipped an arm across your shoulder, turning your body to face your reflection, "i don't see anything wrong with your outfit or you, baby — you're really pretty . . . and i look pretty amazing too," he winked cheekily at the mirror, kissing the side of your face.

the male had been sitting on the edge of the bed, paying attention to you analyzing your own outfit for the past fifteen minutes. twirling here and there, stepping backwards and forwards cluelessly. the male didn't see anything wrong with your outfit or you, in fact, you looked absolutely stunning in his point of view.

his comment made you break a small smile.

"is this top too revealing?" you turn your back to the mirror, revealing a slight peek at your fragrant s/c skin.

"baby, baby," he scoffs, "i'm the strongest, i can fight, you know? and you look beautiful in that top, you should wear it often, yeah?" his slender fingers grazes over your exposed skin gently, sending shivers down your spine.

a string of laughter escaped your throat, "i love you, you know that?"

the male leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, "i love you more. no complaints."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

"do you think the top suits the bottom?" you asked nanami after changing into your third pants of the day — brows furrowed in frustration as nothing seemed to be clicking.

nanami raised his eyes from the book he had in his grasp, "you look beautiful," he complimented yet again for the third time.

"kento, how am i supposed to pick an outfit when you keep complimenting them all? help me pick one, will you?" nanami didn't understand why you were insistent on the 'mismatched' outfit (at least you think it is).

but in his eyes, everything seemed well-matched. he'd say it's a 11/10 for your ability to match these outfits of yours, "how? you look beautiful in them all."

groaning out, you raise two bags. a black and sage green bag, "pick one."

nanami inspected the two bags and then looked back at your outfit briefly, "the sage green one would fit perfectly with your outfit now," he pointed.

"okay. how about a jacket, do you think i'll need one?" you questioned, rummaging through the closet, "you always have a hunch of what i'd feel, it's your judgement."

he pondered your words for a bit, "take a jacket. forecast said it's going to be cold tonight, i don't want you getting sick."

you chuckled and bobbed your head, "right. anything else i should bring?"

"pepper spray."

"check."

"be careful, yes? call me if anything happens," nanami whispers, standing up from the bed — initially he wanted to come along with you to meet your friends. but he thought that he'd be a bother to you so he stopped himself from asking, "i love you so much."

"i love you more," you kissed his lips, to which he returned.

"let's drop you there, hm?" nanami grabs your hips, giving your flesh a slight squeeze, leading you out of the house.

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

"y/n, do you — oh, wow."

yuuji stood, a hand on the handle of the door he just opened and another on the doorway. his jaw dropped at the sight of you, his partner.

you stood in front of a mirror, blinking cluelessly at his reaction. not knowing whether it was his surprise because of how good you looked or the other way around, "yuuji? do i what?"

yuuji blinked himself back into reality, entering the room mutely, his back leaned onto the shut door, "where are you off to?"

shaking your head you gazed back at your reflection, "i'm just mix and matching for a hang out with nobara tomorrow, does this look funny?"

he shook his head harshly, "no, no, you look really nice! really pretty," yuuji honestly said before inhaling, you quite literally took his breath away.

"really? the color suits?" you asked, pinching the shirt you're wearing, "is the pants a bit too short?"

yuuji stood still, "no . . . you — wow, you just look so pretty y/n. i don't know what else to tell you . . ." he whispers, entranced by your figure as he detached his back from the door to approach you.

mustering out a smile, you gave him a hug, "thanks yuuji, you're the best."

he nuzzled his nose into your hair, "you're so beautiful," yuuji mumbled before kissing the crown of your head.

all of a sudden, yuuji pulls back, his face stern and a frown on his face, "how come you're going out with kugisaki and i'm not invited?" he asks you, narrowing his eyes.

"baby, i promise it's just me and her. i'll get you something special on the way back and then we can watch movies? your pick." you pinched his cheeks gently.

"any movies?"

you nod, "any movies."

"okay! deal." yuuji beams out, kissing your cheek.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[hauntedwitch04]

Little one

Sam Winchester x reader

Words: about 3.9k words

Warnings: smut, smut, I forgot to say smut, DESTIEL BECAUSE I LOVE THEM, dirty talk

Author’s note: Hi loves! I finally managed to write some more after the crazy week I had. Hope you like it, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 5: Size kink

"Hey little one do you need a hand?" You hear Sam ask, hearing in his tone of voice that silly little sly smile you hate so much. You huff as still with your back turned you don't even turn to look at him, knowing you couldn't help but melt under the gaze of his green eyes. You feel him coming up behind you, his chest brushing against your back as you see his hand reach for the book you've been reaching for for more than ten minutes. His presence behind you almost makes your knees give way.

The two of you have been playing this game for weeks now, provoking the other but at the same time neither of you seems to have the courage to take matters into their own hands and drag the other into your bedroom. A few days ago Sam realized how sensitive you are to the size difference between the two of you. You have never considered yourself short, you have always been average, but next to him you look little more than a smurf. He is literally a giant, and that doesn't mean he is merely tall, but because of the life you lead he has developed a lot of muscles in his arms and chest, as well as perfect abs, and that makes him imposing, and fuck if that isn't attractive. You get lost in thinking what it must be like to be under him, enclosed between his warm body and his bed, but almost immediately you are interrupted by a cough behind you. You turn and see him with a raised eyebrow looking at you amused. Now the two of you are face to face, or rather you have your face at his chest level, and in fact you have to look up to stare into his eyes.

The man in front of you seems to be quite amused by this, in fact he leans forward a little, thinking you would move for that movement, and instead you stand still, not showing weakness.

"Careful little one your neck will hurt if you keep holding it like that. Maybe we should buy a stepladder at least you'd be able to look me in the eye without any trouble." Says Sam, a breath away from your lips.

"You giant asshole, I swear I'll cut your balls off if-" You start to threaten him, but you are interrupted by a new voice. Castiel has just entered the room and is looking at you with a questioning expression before shouting.

"Dean they are doing it again." He says to the other hunter who immediately responds to the angel, threatening you as well.

"Home run before you see things you don't want to see. And you two stop circling around the fact that you want to fuck. There's too much sexual tension in the air and no one can take it anymore. You better find a solution or I swear I'll have the next witch I meet charm you." Says the brother of the man in front of you, from the kitchen, making both you and Sammy blush.

"Fuck you Dean." Sam manages to say, not looking you in the eye. Immediately you turn away from each other, going in different directions.

You arrive in your room, close the door, and lean against it as you take a breath of relief.

You can't deny that there is not that sexual tension between the two of you that Dean accuses you of, but at the same time you don't have the courage to take that extra step for fear of being rejected because treacherously you think Sam intends all that as a kind of game between the two of you, but nothing more. You stay for a moment thinking again about the feeling of his body so big and muscular against yours. You felt so small and helpless, and yet you were not afraid, in fact all your brain could process were rather spicy situations with the youngest of the Winchesters. Then suddenly you violently detach yourself from the door, as your mind was again training itself in those overly specific thoughts of what it would be like to be fucked by Sam, placed on all fours on his bed, while he on top of you, with his chest pressed against your back, holding the bed keyboard with one strong hand to make stronger, firmer thrusts. You get lost in thinking about what it must feel like to have his kisses on your bare back with the light beard he has, what one of his strong hands gripping one of your hips must feel like, or his cock pushing in. You decide it's time for a cold shower at the very moment you're left thinking about whether the size of his member is directly proportional to everything else, hoping that at least that might bring you back to your senses a little.

You've never been much of a person who likes to go to parties, but you certainly can't say no to a nice evening with your favorite people spent drinking and singing your favorite songs. By now it is very late and both Dean and Cas have gone to bed, no matter how much the last one doesn't sleep, but by now since they had declared themselves to each other they had created a routine, thanks to which the oldest of the Winchesters is finally able to sleep without nightmares. You are happy forni your friends, they both deserve the small portion of happiness that fate has reserved for them, and on the contrary you wish they had fi more. Since they've gone to bed, though, you and Sam are left alone, with more than ample amount of alcohol in your system, which is a bit dangerous considering the thoughts some days that led you to take a shower so cold that even penguins would beat their beaks for cold.

You and young Winchester spent those days avoiding each other, and when you couldn't, all you could do was avoid each other's gaze and not blush.

You remain silent again, enjoying that peace to which you are not very accustomed. You are sitting side by side, and you can't help but slowly move closer to his body, attracted by the warmth it produces.

It seems like hours go by, and maybe it's only a few minutes, but eventually he interrupts that state of stillness.

"Can I ask you a question?" Sammy asks, turning toward you, and you can't help but be a little annoyed by his question, but you nod as you down some more alcohol. He seems to consider what words to use.

"Have you ever thought of anything more than this between us?" The man asks, looking you in the eye. You pause with your glass in midair, petrified by that question. For a moment it crosses your mind that he has figured out how you feel about him, but then you look at him and see him waiting for your answer and realize that he is really only asking you out of pure curiosity.

"Why did you think of that?" You ask in turn defensively. You see him hesitate for a moment as you did a few seconds earlier, but eventually he flashes you a smile, regaining all the resourcefulness he has shown in this last period.

"Oh little one, I'm afraid I'd scare you if I told you all the things I've been thinking about doing with you." He says in a rough, sensual voice, and you immediately feel a shiver go down your spine. You feel him move closer to you, while you remain still, afraid that if you moved even a finger, this whole situation would vanish like a soap bubble. You think more than once that all this is a dream produced by the alcohol in your system, then you feel his lips on your neck and realize that it is all true.

"Well you could show me a couple of things you've imagined doing with me, and I'll tell you if they're the same things I've thought of." I say in a whisper, as he continues to nibble on my neck, leaving sweet kisses at times.

"You're going to fucking kill me sooner or later." Sam comments before standing up, and with a smooth, quick movement, hoisting me onto his shoulder. I let out a soft yelp, before starting to bombard him with threats and questions.

"Sam Winchester, let me go now! Where are you taking me?" I ask, trying not to give away that just that simple gesture that showcased his strength and how much bigger he was physically than you was turning you on.

"In the room, unless you want to be fucked here where anyone could walk in at any moment. I didn't take you for that kind of person, but we could always try it another time." He says chuckling, while you in response punch him lightly in the back. "Besides, from here I have a first-class view of your ass." He continues nonchalantly, and you can't help but blush.

"Sam!" You take him back, but he immediately doesn't give you time to continue.

"Little one, don't be an angel, because we both know how many times you've thought about doing dirty things with me, and you can't even lie because it was all over your face." Notices Sam, scolding you as one scolds a child who has eaten too much candy.

"Like you had a marble mask on, and you couldn't see all the times you looked at my boobs." You comment, as you try to figure out by now where you are, but the corridors of the bunker are all dark and you can't quite get your bearings.

"It's not my fault you have particularly nice tits." He replies, as if it were a given, and you can't help but laugh at the situation. Your laughter is interrupted, however, when Sam throws you onto what you recognize to be his bed.

The playful air that had been created disappears in an instant and gives way to a new tension, steeped in passion and mischief. The youngest Winchester slides all the way down your body until his plump lips are inches from yours. The feel of his body, so large compared to yours, is even better than you had imagined. He spends a few seconds teasing you, kissing all over your face and the area near your mouth, but he doesn't touch your lips a single time, until you slip your hands into his hair and force him to do so. He smiles against your lips, and when you pull away to get some air, he teases you.

"Someone is a little impatient, what can't you wait to feel my cock inside you anymore?" He asks rhetorically, while his hands begin working to remove the several layers of clothes you are wearing.

"All promises Winchester, it's time to keep them." You say, trying to answer him again in kind as pleasure begins to work its way through you.

"You'll regret this shamelessness little one, another time, not today, but next time I won't be as good to you as I will be this time."

Quickly he removes the few clothes you have on while you do the same to him, a little groggy from pleasure and a little from alcohol.

He kisses your neck, leaving red, biting marks as he slowly moves down to your breasts, to remove the bra you still have on. He takes one of your nipples in his teeth, while the other teases it with his hand.

Once he is done torturing your breasts, he goes down to your navel with his kisses and then gently bites your panties. A shiver runs through you again as you feel his lips graze the skin of your legs, while he stares into your eyes and pulls them off with such slowness that you feel faint before long at how hard your heart is beating.

"You better get moving Winchester." You try to threaten him, once he completely peels off the penultimate layer of clothing that stood between you and him, since he still has his boxers on.

"Or what small thing? I don't think you're in a position to threaten me." He comments amused, before returning to your center, and leaving sweet kisses all around in your inner thigh. You can't help but sigh as you slip a hand into his soft, long hair, trying to take him where you most desire.

"Fuck you." That's all you can say in response, and he can't help but laugh. Eventually Sam lets you guide him where you want him, and finally his lips meet those of your pussy. You can't help but let out a moan mixed with a scream as the man squeezes your clit between his teeth as he had done with your nipples earlier. With his tongue he continues to lick you, slowly increasing the pleasure.

Suasult when you also feel his fingers join in the torture, as he rhythmically works them into you. His fingers are long and big, enough to reach all the right places, and make you wriggle between the covers of the now unmade bed, making you clutch the sheet so tight you thought it would tear.

Eventually, faster than it had ever happened to you, you feel the orgasm coming, with the impetuosity of a wave ready to sweep whatever it meets in its path.

"Sam- fuck- please don't stop." You beg him, as you continue to move your hips under his mouth to create more friction.

"Oh my little one is cumming?" He asks, pulling away from you slightly.

"Sam, please." You beg him again as you run a hand through his hair again, and he can't help but moan as you do so.

He doesn't respond to you, but his actions speak for themselves as he again begins to lick your center as he speeds his fingers entering your pussy. A few minutes pass and you finally reach orgasm, and for a second you think you lose contact with the whole world. All you hear in your ears is blood pulsing, your eyes narrowed as your lips hold back a scream, while your hands continue to cling tightly to Sam's hair. Once you regain your breath and some clarity you stop and look at Sammy who is now looking at you seriously. Around your mouth you can still see the remnants of the otherworldly experience you just had.

"Are you okay?" He asks you as he licks his lips.

"Never felt better." You answer, as you signal for him to come up. He complies and comes with his face at the same height as yours. You kiss him softly, and he can't help but do the same. It is very different from the kiss you shared earlier, passionate and impetuous, but no less sensual and beautiful. Then suddenly you take him by surprise and reverse the situation by finding yourself on top of him.

"Now it's my turn to torture you a little." You whisper in his ear before moving down to his boxers. You slip them off him the same way he took off your underwear, which is with your teeth, and you hear him cursing as you brush against his now very obvious erection. Then unable to hold back you take his member with your hands, and like everything in your body it seems to be huge compared to you, but in this case you don't really know if it is your point of view or is objective. You tease his entire length with your tongue, before starting to suck lightly at the tip, while moving your hand along everything else you don't touch. Immediately his hand, almost as big as your head, gets stuck in your hair and begins to send you further and further down, at the pace he likes best. That's how Sam begins to fuck your mouth, at first slower, going steadily increasing, so that the last thrusts you feel his cock coming down your throat, and you can't help but get aroused when you feel the air miss you. He continues this game for a few minutes, until with a series of moans where he screams your name he doesn't cum in your mouth, and you swallow everything he gives you.

"That's my girl." Sammy comments as he catches his breath, but you see a spark in his eyes that tells you you're not even close to the end.

"So far we've been playing, now comes the main course." He continues, as again he reverses the situation, bringing you under him. You feel one of your thighs open, and with his knee he stimulates your pussy. Immediately you let out a scream that he silences with his lips. You begin to kiss more and more passionately as you feel him driving his cock in front of your entrance. The moment he is about to push in for the first time, you stop him by asking him a question?

"Are you sure it fits?" You ask slightly frightened by his size, and excited at the same time. He looks at you and chuckles a little, throwing his head into the crook of your neck.

"It's just that I've never had anyone so ...great, it's no laughing matter Winchester!" You continue, chuckling in turn. He kisses you gently on the nose before answering you.

"I promise in case it does you, you'll just have to tell me and we'll stop right away, okay?" He asks seriously, watching you as he moves a strand of hair away from your face. "Besides, I think the orgasm has prepared you well honey." He finishes by winking at you. He kisses you again but this one more gently, trying to distract you. You feel him enter you, and for a moment you think you have died and are in your own little piece of heaven.

"Are you okay little one?" Sam asks seeing your closed eyes and clenched fists holding the pillow.

"Oh God, Winchester you better move your ass and fuck me before I come at this exact moment." You whisper, as you release one hand to bring him to you and kiss him. You feel him begin to thrust in and out of you, picking up a rather fast pace as he stimulates one of your breasts with one hand and his lips are busy making more marks on your neck, lest he cry out your name in pleasure. You are not much better off, so much so that at one point you feel an iron taste of blood in your mouth from how much you bit your lips to keep Cas and Dean from hearing you. You keep moving in unison, seeking pure pleasure.

"God baby, you are so perfect. You don't know how much I've dreamed of having you under me, screaming my name, rocking your world." Sam comments, before kissing one of your breasts. "I love your body, so small compared to mine, so much that I'm afraid I'll break you every time I touch you, but at the same time so sinful that I can't stop myself from doing the worst sins they ever came up with even in hell."

You fail to respond too caught up in everything the boy is making you feel. You feel like it's the first time in years you've breathed again, the first time you've really tasted oxygen.

"Sam, please, I'm going to-" You are interrupted by a kiss from him.

"Me too baby." He replies after pulling away from your lips. "Your pussy is squeezing my cock so hard, I think I'm about to go crazy." He comments, and it seems that his words are the keys to reach again that already before, only with his fingers had you tasted, but that was but a paltry appetizer, this was of the magnitude of a wedding feast. Your whole body quivers with force, as your center, in pleasure, tightens even tighter around his size, making you feel the size of his member even more.

Just as Sam's words were for you, for him it seems that your orgasm triggers his, in fact when you finally seem to have regained some mental clarity, after spending several minutes with your mind clouded, drowsy with pleasure, you feel your womb being filled with his seed, and you have another orgasm, smaller than before, but still quite important.

It is some time before both of you have caught your breath, in each other's arms. You remain in silence enjoying the warmth of the naked body of the person you love by your side. Then without saying a word Sam moves to your side and encircles you with his arms, having spread a blanket over your uncovered bodies. You fall asleep within minutes, with a smile on your lips, both of you happy to be close to the one you love, and especially happy to know that the one you love loves you back.

BONUS (I can't help it, I love bonuses too much :) )

Dean sits at the kitchen table as Cas hands him a steaming cup of coffee. He thanks him with a whisper before sipping his drink in silence. The only noise in the room is that of the liquid slipping over his lips as the two lovers stare into the void, lost in their own thoughts. Eventually it is the angel who breaks the silence.

"We need to soundproof the rooms better." He comments, and Dean can make no more than a sound of approval. They had not slept a wink because of your shouting, and as happy as they were to know that now the tension between the two of you had been cleared up, they also did not want to hear how their nephew was created, since his brother and you had not made much effort to be quiet. And this was not the first time. Since you had come out to each other now almost a month ago, every night you had done nothing but shout each other's names in pleasure, so much so that often both Dean and Cas had decided to go for a drive, but they couldn't take it anymore.

"You're damn right." Dean says before taking another sip of coffee. "You know I almost preferred it when they hadn't come out, now I'm afraid to turn the corner and watch them procreate on the library table." Dean comments amused, finishing his drink as he sees his boyfriend shoot him a look and a smile.

"As if we never did." Cas says, laughing.

"But they don't know that." Dean replies, giving him a wink, then getting up and leaving a gentle kiss on his forehead and heading out of the room, obviously checking to make sure you are not in it.

TAGLIST

@laurennnomg @deanwinchestersgirl87 @samanddeansannoyingsis @ash04w3 @l3viathanpup @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @wafflezo @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @shodowbane09 @acidicpickle @supernatural-lvr

[arieswritez]

vincible

vincible | mark grayson x gn!reader (fluff)

alright since you all asked so kindly here's the fluff from my last hc 🫶🏾 :

cw: slightly suggestive but nothing nsfw. that's all :D

"why's it looking at me like that?"

the two of you are in bed and with his weight pinning you down, you find it hard to concentrate on what he means.

your head's all fuzzy with the way he's been drowning you in kisses. he kisses you like it might be his last chance to do so: sweet, languid until they melt into something more feral. the way his costume hugs his body doesn't exactly help your concentration, either.

your body's warm as it soaks up his body heat - he's like a fucking furnace - and it yearns. . no. . demands for his attention. you ignore him, making a soft, impatient sound that sounds more like a whine as you try to guide his lips back onto yours.

however, he keeps his head turned to your right, staring at a spot on your bed and says, "what're you lookin' at, huh?"

you pull back, confused, then follow his line of vision.

finally, you see what he sees: a stuffed animal perched against your pillow.

you watch as mark squints at the toy, then, tilts his head and scoffs in indignation as if it's just hurled an insult his way.

"what'd you say?" mark sits up and away from you, puffing out his chest.

the plushie stares at mark with big, black, empty eyes.

you stare up at mark, confused, as he carries on his one sided beef with your plushie.

"they cuddle you while im not here?"

mark crawls over to your plushie and grabs it by its soft neck, his fingers wrapping around the entirety. he pulls it close, putting his nose right up against the toy's. "you wanna say that again, tough guy? don't you know who i am?"

"mark, what're you doing -" you giggle, leaning back on your elbows to watch the ridiculous display before he shushes you.

"hey, you stay out of this. i'll deal with you later." he snaps before turning his attention back to the toy. "oh, you don't care? well, let's see if you care about this -"

mark suddenly shoves the toy into his face.

he flops down atop your bed, wildly flailing with one hand while the other mushes the plushie against his face. he's comically good at it, too, looking like he's being mauled by some feral cat.

he's only emboldened by your uncontrollable laughter: grunting with effort as he rolls over the stuffy and delivers a few blows. even making his own sound effects before he rolls onto his back, your toy gaining the upper hand once again.

this time, he sits the toy atop his face and flails like he's being suffocated. eventually, his body falls limp. the hand that isn't holding the toy upright falling limply at the side of your bed.

your plushie's fought dirty and won.

"i dunno, mark," you manage to say between hiccuping laughs, "you seem pretty vincible to me."

"very funny." comes his muffled voice from beneath the toy. he sits up, stuffy still in hand as he fixes you with an accusatory glare. "laugh. yeah, laugh, while your boyfriend's being mercilessly beaten."

he crawls closer and he thrusts the toy in your direction, waving it side to side by the back of the neck, holding it at arm's length like he's afraid it'll attack him. "i guess you want him now, don't you?"

you raise a brow. "don't misgender my plushies, grayson."

mark retracts the plushie and flips it upside down, looking at its bottom. "oh, right."

you let out a chortle of laughter and he's on you in seconds: pinning you down and smushing the plushie against your face, making kissy sounds while you breathlessly beg him to stop.

[livingdeadgirlflorette]

YOUR FACE ⟡₊⋆∘ carl grimes x fem!reader

summary : with this weird dynamic between helping Carl smoke, tension-filled silence, and longing looks— maybe this time together might be where unspoken words aren't left unsaid.

word count : 4.9k

tags / rundown : fluff, slightly suggestive, smoking, awkward first kiss, confessions, kissing, inaccurate depiction of how smoking affects people, reader isn't good at feelings

a / n : This was in my drafts for such a long time oml! anyways the tile is based of the song "your face" by wisp, I just really liked the song with this :3 this isn't as long as my other fics but I hope you enjoy just as equally <3

dividers by me ! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

PART 1: SO HIGH ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

The smoke that fills Carl's lungs from your mouth gives him another familiar hazy feeling. It's been an unarguable routine from the two of you— whenever you guys get too overstimulated from the Alexandrian kids or just from the adults, you both go to the same clearing you guys met, sit down next to each other, Carl brings his comics to read and you bring your cigarettes.

And something that he'll always look forward to is you helping him smoke. The feeling of your hand holding his face, keeping him steady and blowing the puff you took into his mouth, him taking it in and breathing it out— all the while you both stare into each other's gaze. But as soon as he's done with the drag, you're eyes leave his— going back to your own devices.

your character had bemused him; how one second you both are sharing an intimate moment, holding him softly and with a fondness, and the next you're behaving like nothing had ever even happened.

Carl wanted to dispel that indifference you'd been feigning— that stoic face you'd been masquerading in and out of the walls. He desired to know what was behind all those barriers of distance you'd made to keep yourself safe. He wanted to know you. The real you.

"You know, I think you're ready to take off your training wheels and do it yourself, cowboy." If it wasn't already evident in the sluggish tone, you were relaxed from the amount of puffs you'd been doing already. Lifting your hand and pulling yourself away from him, he stops you by gripping your forearm. He had never done this before, and the unfamiliarity of it had startled you— but then registering his touch had your mind involuntary give you chills in your spine. It felt good, him holding you.

Carl didn't want you to pull away; he wanted to stay forever like this, with your face close and in his space. But he'd have to start saying it before he loses the chance.

"I think I'll need a few more practice runs." He stated boldly. Carl didn't really know what he was trying to say when he blurted that out. All he knew was that he wanted to keep your face close to his. He tilted his head and looked at your lips, before looking back to meet your startled gaze— but as quickly as it had shown on your face, you painted over a mask of nonchalance.

You let out a chuckle. Carl was always one to speak his mind about things, but he always seemed timid when approaching this. You like this side of him. With your free hand, you take another drag of the cigarette before putting in out. With his gaze studying you close, you blow the smoke in his face.

He definitely didn't expect that, because he let go of you forearm and waved his hands in front of his hands to get rid of the waft of smoke from his face. Despite all of this, he still managed to laugh at it.

"Maybe another time." You dismissed. You stand up and look down at him, clueless that he'd been left in the dust. "We gotta get back before they notice, remember?" You finish fixing yourself up before reaching out a hand at his still sat position.

". . ." Carl didn't know how to feel, he looks at the hand reaching out to him and back at you. ". . .Right." He finishes his contemplation and grabs your hand, getting support from you to stand up. He pats himself down to get rid of the dirt on his pants and flannel.

"I'll start walking back. Stay close, okay?" Your voice lets out a stable tone. Hesitant, he nods and goes back to tidy himself up and the comics strewn about on the grass. With that, you turn to the direction of Alexandria and start your walk.

With you figure walking away, Carl was left to drown in his own thoughts. He felt. . . dismayed? All you did was dismiss him but he felt like you threw his heart away doing it. He knew he shouldn't feel like this. He didn't have any right to, you guys weren't anything— You guys were just friends who helped the other smoke, but he didn't want just that. He wanted more. Carl looks back at your decreasing figure before finishing up and jogging to you, matching your pace and falling in step next to you.

He's gonna say something to you about it. He doesn't know when, but he will. He can't stand just being smoking buddies with you— he wants more.

"So. . . do you wanna tell me something you've been hiding from me?" Rick's voice cuts the silence of the dinner table, overpowering the clanking and screeching of utensils against the plates. Carl's movement of taking a spoon of his food slows with his gaze locking with his father's—but then, just as swiftly, he goes back to his normal act, breaking the eye contact.

"I don't know what you mean." He tries to act and put on an air of nonchalance, playing up an act and pretending nothing had happened—just like you do when you and him are in the forest clearing. Carl had never intended for you and him hanging out outside the walls a secret; however, with the fact that his father wanted the best for his son and still tries to show good towards him, he feels like Rick wouldn't be too happy if he found out his son was going outside the gates and smoking—maybe even worse when he finds out he's doing all of that for a girl.

". . ." Rick's eyes are trained on his son in contemplation quietly, watching every calculated movement his son does to see any tick of movement that would give him the assumption of nervousness. He already knew his son was hiding something—but he didn't take him as the type to lie about it; he just wanted to see if he'd tell him the truth.

"Sure then," Rick said. "If that's the case, I guess you wouldn't mind telling me about that girl you go on prancing around outside with?" And with the question alone, Carl stops his next move and fully becomes attentive.

How did his father know? He thought he was good at keeping up his face, but that inquiry from his father left his vocabulary in shambles.

"There's no—what? I don't know what you're—listen, whatever you're trying to say, I— . . . Okay, how did you find out?" Carl blurts out before he deadpans before dropping his utensils in defeat. He figured that trying to defend himself would make things worse, so he'd rather get straight to the point. He isn't going to get anything good out of dodging his dad's interrogation, but he needs to know how he knew first before he tells him.

"It was Tara's turn to keep watch in the tower," Carl should've known. With all the teasing looks he got from her whenever she talked about girls to him and how he would listen intently, he figured maybe Tara was just in a chipper mood these days, but he guessed he was wrong.

"She saw you and the other kid climb the back walls and walk away." His father finished. Carl didn't want to explain to his father why he did it; it'll just send him into a pit of shame. But he figures he'll have to cross that bridge when his father gets to it.

"Now I'm going to ask you this again, and don't lie to me," Rick leans back in his chair, a domineering aura surrounding him. You'd think he'd look all serious and stern—but with Judith squirming and cooing in his lap, it made him less authoritarian and more father-like.

"Do you wanna tell me something you've been hiding from me?" Rick's voice lowered, wanting an actual direct answer from Carl, not the 'I don't know what-you're-talking-about' bullshit he was spewing earlier.Carl didn't know what to say. If he was going to tell his father the truth, he'd have to open up to him about you. And that's hard enough on his own, but to his dad? He doesn't know how that'll go. But it's better now than never. So with a deep, defeated sigh—he starts.

"There's a girl I hang out with, just a few minutes outside the walls from here," Carl recalls the first time you'd met each other and how he told you how smoking was going to kill you. Oh, how much he laughs in his head at the thought of that, especially since he smokes with you now. With Carl finally confessing what Rick wanted him to say, his domineering stance softens, and he adjusts Judith on his lap—who was still moving around, now trying to grab his father's finger using her hands.

"We go to a clearing, and just talk there. She's—. . ." Carl's words pause. He was unsure what to call her; it would be weird calling her an acquaintance since they know each other more than that, and it would be even more peculiar to come out of his mouth calling her a friend—knowing what they've done together.

"She's something else." He finished. There wasn't a word that they could call what they were, and Carl couldn't think of one for the life of him. She really was something else.

"Well—I thank you for being honest with me that time," Rick adjusts himself to help Judith sit properly. "But I wanna know something else." He breathes softly through his nose, readying himself to ask.

"Why?" From the start, when the world fell to shit, Rick knew his son wouldn't be the same as he was before—his character would grow up to be more mature and stoic, having to leave the childlike nature he shortly had and take over this stone-faced disposition. He was forced to forget he was just a boy.

But, with the time that he'd been with that girl, Rick noticed Carl would be less tense, he'd laugh more, and he'd even let out a genuine smile without worry. Something that you had whenever you were with him had turned him back and made him experience what it felt like just to be a teenager. What it felt like to not be always vigilant, just relaxed and content.Carl was left speechless. Just like he couldn't think of what to call what you and him were, he didn't know why he was hanging out with you. Well, he did know; he just didn't want to say it. If he did, he'd have to acknowledge how all of your experiences with him in the forest were something more for him.

"I—I just, like her. She's good company." That was all Carl could say, before scooping another morsel of food and eating it. One confession mixed with another and a half-assed excuse. He knew his father was better to believe just that, but he also knew he wouldn't prod at him anymore.

Rick could read his son like a book. He knew that wasn't just the reason; that girl had done so much for him that Carl didn't even realize it, and he knew his son would think much more about what she was to him, but he knew Carl should let him figure it out himself—rather than condemning him for it. With a fatherly chuckle, he leans a little with the toddler in his arms to pat his son on the shoulder, letting a gentle squeeze.

"I bet she is. But tell her something before you do something stupid." That was all his father said before standing up and bringing Judith with him, walking up to the front door—presumably to sit on the porch with her. Carl seemed to notice that. With the amount of walls they were in, he saw his father felt safe enough to just enjoy the smallest of things, like how he'd just enjoy being with his daughter.

But after finishing his pondering about his father, his father's words rang in his head. 'Tell her something.' Should he? One side of his heart that still believed there was good in this world—how there is still hope in this—told him he should; he should tell her everything he wanted to let out—how entrancing her lips were when they were inches apart from his, how her presence alone could calm all the thundering thoughts pounding in his brain.

But the other side of his that was marred, cynical, and closed-off tells him he shouldn't; well, everything was going great for them, so why should he have the audacity to let himself ruin it? If he did something to shatter that with you, ruin the experiences you already had with him and in the future that you'd have with him just because he decided to do something he wasn't even sure if you'd reciprocate—he'd never forgive himself.

Carl was a mess, and he knew he was. All his thoughts were drowning in confusion just because your person was so enthralling. Your carefree personality and how you let him do the things he thought he could've never done—you were everything he wanted. He wanted you so badly.

But how would he tell you? You seemed so close, yet so distant. All those memories of being close with him and talking about the most nonsensical topics just for the sake of keeping the conversation going were layered on by the other set of events that follow—how after everything you've been through with him, you seemed to shut down—how you didn't allow yourself to get too comfortable with anyone, even him. How whenever you and him pause to get lost in each other's gaze, you flutter your eyes and pull away.

You looked afraid—you seemed to abhor letting people in, seeing who you were when you were vulnerable. Carl despised it. How it felt like you were close and far at the same time, all together. It was like you guys were at a standstill, and he wanted to stop the limbo your character put your relationship in. He needed an answer from you, even if it had the chance of breaking whatever you guys had with each other.

He dropped his fork. God damn it, with all the brainstorming in his mind about how to approach the thought of telling you, he had lost the appetite to eat. With a frustrated sigh, he picks up both his and his father's plates to put in the sink—going to wash it. He'll have to dwell on it later. Right now, he needs to distract himself from the mindless routine of washing the dishes—just to take his mind off it, off of you.

With the passing of the cigarette smoke, Carl looks back at your face. He wonders if he should listen to the wise words of his father and tell her the truth. But he's scared. He laughs at the thought; after all these years of living and surviving through this wretched apocalypse and off all things, the one thing he was most scared of was losing you. It was ridiculous to him; he's done heinous acts just to keep going in this cycle of life—yet he thinks that confessing what he felt to you would be the end of his world.

"What's wrong, you look?" You tilt your head in inquiry, visibly confused. Carl didn't even notice that you'd seen him staring at you, observing you like this would be the last time he'd ever see you.

"Sad. Or you could just be constipated with how concentrated you look."

Even with the amount of things he's been feeling about you and pondering the aftermath of what could happen if he told you—you still managed to make him let out a chuckle.

"I was thinking." Carl huffs a breath out. He was thinking, thinking of what you'd say. Without skipping a beat, you follow up on what he had said. "Thinking about what?"

As you ask, you take a drag of the lit stick of tobacco and gently grab his chin, just like you always did. No matter the repetitiveness, he'll always welcome that hazy feeling of you getting close.

But before you get to exchange the smoke in your mouth, he places his hand over yours that was holding him, looking at you with such a focus that could burn through your eyes. With his action, your movements halt from being startled, and you involuntarily let the puff in your mouth out slowly.

"This." Carl looked into your gaze. Just like the last time you were this close, you had pulled away. But you aren't sure if you'd like that. "I was thinking about you."

With the confession leaving the tip of his tongue, your face formed a light flush. Carl was always forward with you about things, but never this upfront about his feelings for you. Contrary to his belief, you know. You knew what he felt, ever since he had started to smoke with you.

Even though he was going through the same burden as you, he felt like he had to be there with you first. You hated it. You didn't hate Carl; you hated how you felt about it and how it felt with him. How you let the walls of your heart come down when it came to him, even after everything that you swore would never break. With a doubtful look slowly painting your face, you can't help but try to distance yourself from him.

"Oh. That's. . . interesting." With a heavy feeling, your vision goes to anywhere but his, finally breaking the chain of eye contact you'd been sharing in the blanket of silence. "I've been thinking too, about— stuff." You had muttered awkwardly, saying anything that comes out of your mind, just to fill the awkward silence.

"You think you can tell me?" Even with your eyes off him, you can still feel his perceptive gaze. Carl didn't want you to crawl back into that timid disposition you always had put up; he wanted you to open up to him—let him in that mind of yours.

"If I say it," you paused. "It's going to ruin everything." Your voice had barely let out the last sentence, your tone trembling. Your heart wanted to tell Carl everything—how your body felt flush whenever he did something to gauge a reaction from you, how you wanted his body near you—not just from helping him smoke—but more than that.

But would saying what you had wanted ruin the relationship that was one of the only highlights of surviving in this apocalypse? Will saying what you had dreamed of saying destroy what he had thought of you?

But with your self-doubt clouding your mind and making your body still, you had barely registered the warmth of Carl's hand on yours, holding it with such care you'd think of it more of an intimate gesture. With a gentle call of your name, he assures you.

"Hey, nothing you do will ruin—" Carl paused, unsure if he should state it as what they are. Friends? He isn't even sure at this point. "-will ruin us, okay? I won't get mad."

"I'm not expecting you to be mad," you counter. "I expect that you'll feel betrayed." You finished. If Carl didn't reciprocate what you felt, you were sure he'd be confused. Would he think that all you did with him was just an elaborate ruse to get him closer to you? You weren't certain, but you had an idea it would go down that route if he did.

"If you aren't sure how to tell me, then show me." Carl tilts his head, coyly lacing his time. Whenever he does those mannerisms, you always thought he looked cute. He didn't look like a stone-faced killer that was brought upon this apocalypse anymore, but just a teenager going through regular stuff, feeling normal things.

With that, you contemplate. You were irritated at yourself for not saying anything; it was as if your heart was in your mouth—disabling you from telling what you desired. But with a deep breath, you lean in close to Carl—his eyes going wide for a second, then adjusting to this newfound distance.

Carl knows he shouldn't be nervous; you've been in his vicinity close to him like this dozens of times. But with this unexplored feeling brewing in his stomach, he feels like he should be—because you were going to do something else.

"Don't—don't freak out, okay?" Your voice is so close to him, it makes his ears flush red. He's lucky he had long hair; he was sure you'd tease him for it if you had seen them.

The tension felt thick, just like all the times you had been close to his lips, mere centimeters away. Sometimes you wish that the times you were that close you'd just lean in and kiss him, but inevitably you always pull away.

And just like that, you realize that your embarrassment gets the better of you again. You pull away slowly; you think this is stupid. You shouldn't have done that. You turn away, one of your hands covering your face that was starting to burn up.

"I-uh, sorry, I think I should go back, yeah. I'm sorry—" Your face turned back to his. But before you could let out another apology, a pair of soft lips had met yours, your eyes fluttering shut.

Carl had kissed you. You had dreamt of what it felt like to kiss him. But now that it was actually happening, you felt so surreal. With a hesitant state, you tested the waters and kissed him back, a light push to see what it felt. His lips were chapped, understandable since chapstick didn't seem like a necessity in the apocalypse, but his lips felt gentle.

When you felt the absence of soft pressure on your lips, you fluttered your eyes at him. You were sure your cheeks were burning at this point; it was uncontrollable. Once you guys were at a normal sitting distance from one another, you finally piped up.

"That was, uh, good." Your voice barely above a whisper. Both your gazes found one another, and then, with heat creeping up your neck, you had looked away.

"Thank you, I guess...?" Confusion had still not left your tone. With this, you were also perplexed by your own words. What were you thankful for?

"Why are you thanking me?" Carl's voice didn't seem to miss a beat, going back to his playful self. You were thankful for this—how he could always help lighten your guys' mood even when it was awkward.

"I don't know, okay!" You let out a genuine laugh. "I've never had to think about what to say after. . . that." Your eyes met his. He seemed to have a glint in his eye, telling you all you needed to know that he was planning something mischievous.

"Well. . ."

"Yeah. . ."

This was one of the things that made you abhor having to actually commit to kissing him—the aftermath. What would become of you and Carl? Would it be just unbearably awkward, and you'd never have enough courage to look him in the face again? Or would it help express your blossoming feelings towards you and him?

"I've always liked you, y'know?" Carl speaks up first—his tone soft and careful, breaking the silence you both have been dreading. But with just a few words of confession, he seemed to melt through that weird tension that had permeated through the space between you.

"I know—or like I. . . knew, I guess?" Your voice comes out meek, nervous about what was still happening.

His face went slack—his face contorting to shock and embarrassment, with a noticeable flush of red rising up his ears.

"Wait wha-? How did you even-what. . .?!" His voice was getting higher, something you picked up on when he was getting nervous.

With a small giggle, you answer his question. "It doesn't take a detective to find out you like me, Carl. You were quite obvious." Your face grows a smirk, creating a playful atmosphere.

He looks away with another wave of shyness. This was disastrous. Was he really that obvious? "It couldn't have been that obvious." With a slow turn, he looks back at you. ". . .right?"

"Do you really think you were that slick? You looked." You paused, unsure whether to say what actually was on your mind. He looked in love, but you figured you shouldn't—it would be too fast.

". . . nevermind. It's just that eyes don't lie, Carl, and the way you look at me—it seems very telling." You end your sentence with a smile. With everything out of the bag, you felt light as a feather—with nothing left to hide from him.

"If you knew then, why did you stop?"

"What?" His question seemed vague, out of nowhere.

"Why didn't you kiss me?" Carl was sure you could tell his heartbeat going haywire, feeling the vibration of it beating up to the tips of his ears. He sounded so desperate, but he didn't care. All he wanted right now was an answer.

"Oh! Uh. . ." You didn't expect how much he looked like he was yearning, waiting for something, anything from you. Saying you were scared would be embarrassing, but with everything you and Carl already did, there didn't seem like anything else to do but go forward and be honest with him.

"It's a stupid reason," you say, looking up at him, with bashfulness filling your face.

Without skipping a beat, Carl's hand had already gone to yours to intertwine. He didn't seem to know it, but that simple gesture was already melting away that air of dread that was coercing you to not say it.

"If what you're going to say is stupid, then what does that make what we did?" His eye had a glint of wit that he always had when he wanted to cheer you up, encouraging you to go on.

With your free hand and the still-lit cigarette in hand, you take a long drag. It was funny to you how this small stick of nicotine used to be the only thing of happiness that helped you get through it—to go on and keep living. But now, the thing that was your hope and joy in this world was right next to you. 

"A bad idea?" You finally answer his rhetorical question.

With a dry chuckle, he looks to you and just gazes. He never thought that you'd feel the same way, let alone reciprocate kissing him. He felt like the happiest he's ever been since coming to Alexandria.

"I felt," Your mouth opens to let out another word, but you shut it quickly. Taking a deep breath and looking at the sky. "Afraid and. . . guilty is what I'd put as how I felt about you, I guess."

"Why would you feel that way?"

"'Cause it's you!" You look back at him, incredulous, and your hands gesture to his whole character.

"You and me, we were cool, y'know? And we just hung out; everything was going fine, and I didn't want to ruin. . ." You then gestured to both of you. "This, I suppose."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. I told you it was stupid." You look back at the golden hour of the sky, then just slump. It felt freeing telling him that, but it also filled you with shyness. This whole situation just made you want to get eaten by walkers alive and just sink into the world.

"I don't think it's stupid." His free hand goes to fix the loose hair that fell to your face and tuck it to your ear. The fact that his hand was ever so close to your face had your skin burn up so fast you're sure he already sees your skin blushing.

"I think it's cute."

Your eyes went shocked, but then quickly roll your eyes at the cheesy reply.

"Oh, just shut it already." You both giggle and simply bask in the playful mood that was created.

"No, I'm c'mon seriously!"

"You being 'serious' isn't you laughing, Carl." You smile and laugh as you say your quip. With a smile on his face and a shake of his head, you continue your tyrant of laughter.

But your laughter had come to a halt when he had lifted his head and held both your wrists, and he had said your name. "I like you, okay? You're so good to me, and you're such a comfort to come to when I need solace, and I just. . ."

As if the tables had turned, now he was the one losing his words, them dying at his throat.

"I just need you; is that enough? Can I please be with you?"

"If I ever say no to that, I think I'd need a checkup from our clinic."

Your response went out as fast as he had asked, eager and happy that he had finally decided that he wanted to be with you.

"Yes, I mean." With a final look from one another just looking into each other's gaze full of love and admiration, you both take a shy push in and finally kiss again, something you think you'll never grow tired of. But Carl pulls away just a breath away from your lips, wanting to get one last word in that he knows you won't ever forget—before he goes back in for more.

"I'm never gonna let you go."

woowee!! it's been a hot minute since I've posted! sorry guys for all of the people that were waiting for me to post when I never did, right now I've been really into my academics and I'm elbow deep into like 4 pending submissions to pass next week lolol!!11 anyways sorry for the rambling, I hope you enjoyed reading! ✮⋆˙ what did you think of this? don't be a silent reader and let me know ⭑.ᐟ

tags: @carlslvr @shadowybasementmiracle @kawliflo @xictoriiaa

wanna be tagged the next time I post my fics? tell me so I can ꩜ .ᐟ

[bamfkeeper]

All I Want. | K.W

summary: It's so busy, you miss Kurt.

warnings: GN!reader | Fluff | Brief mention of mutant treatment

a/n: I had a handful of requests/ideas I'm going to try to do. I love a lot of them so I'll do my best to pick the ideas that were mentioned more than once. For now here's this little drabble, not long but something cute. Not edited ignore mistakes. ;; wc: 1.3k

The holidays turned the mansion into a whirlwind of endless activity and festive energy.

Every moment seemed filled with purpose as you moved from one seasonal task to another - mixing cookie dough in the warm kitchen while trying to keep prying blue hands away from the dough, building snowmen in the crisp winter air with the younglings, organizing decorations from dusty attic boxes, and carefully hanging twinkling lights along the hallways. The mansion buzzed with non-stop holiday preparations from sunrise to sunset, and while you had help from the other older mutants, the majority of the planning and decorating fell on your shoulders.

Between the constant motion of holiday tasks and the infectious excitement in the air, you found yourself working well past your usual limits, your body finally signaling its need for rest as evening approached.

The cold winter nights grew more and more frigid, nothing brought you more comfort than sinking into the plush embrace of the living room couch, wrapping your hands around a steaming mug of hot cocoa topped with a generous swirl of whipped cream and a sprinkle of crushed peppermint and cocoa shavings. The warmth of the dozen bamfs that gathered around you didn’t go unnoticed, creating a cozy cuddle pile with you. Their curiosity and playful nature showed as they cautiously stretched forward, tiny tongues darting out to steal tastes of the sweet cream and minty chocolate garnish that crowned your drink.

Kurt's presence had grown increasingly sparse lately. The holiday season always brought an overwhelming surge of responsibilities for the X-Men, as they encountered a significant increase in cases of abandoned mutants during this time of year. The harsh winter conditions made their missions even more critical, keeping the team constantly engaged in rescue operations.

The majority of mutants they discovered were victims of abuse or deliberately abandoned, left to face the bitter elements alone. The numerous children they found never failed to make your heart ache, young souls who had just begun to manifest their powers and were cast aside by those who should have protected them.

The weight of his absence pressed heavily on your heart.

This year had been particularly difficult, as your relationship with Kurt had been flourishing, you grew closer than you had been with anyone and finally felt comfortable in your own skin. Yet these precious moments of togetherness remained frustratingly elusive. The memory of his enthusiastic promises to share traditional recipes from his homeland lingered in your mind, but his overwhelming schedule had prevented that from happening.

Night after lonely night, you found yourself lying awake, wondering when he might finally return with enough time to dedicate to your shared moments together.

You hated feeling so selfish, but you also couldn't help it.

A gentle hand brushed against your cheek as one of the mischievous bamfs scrambled its way up to perch on your shoulder, its small tongue darting out to playfully lick away the spots of whipped cream that had collected on your lip and the tip of your nose. "H-Hey, hey, I think you've had enough sugar, all of you," you spoke with mild exasperation to the gathering of bamfs surrounding you, their eager eyes fixed on your drink as they continued their persistent attempts to steal a taste.

The sheer volume of cookies, candy canes, and other sweets they managed to consume on a daily basis had become a source of concern, and each night you found yourself anxiously waiting, fully expecting to discover them all suffering from severe sugar-induced stomach aches.

Yet their bellies were made of steel, the hellfire bellowing inside them scorching everything that hit their stomachs.

After what felt like an eternity of coaxing and gentle persuasion, you finally managed to get all of the little bamfs settled into their beds for the night. The last one had been particularly resistant, but eventually succumbed to sleep.

Exhausted from the long day, you made your way to the bathroom to complete your nightly routine. You brushed your teeth and washed your face, taking comfort in these familiar actions, none of it took much effort and was all muscle memory. When you finished, you reached for the light switch, flicking it off before wearily making your way out of the bathroom.

Your body felt heavy with fatigue as you climbed into bed, your mind already drifting toward the promise of sleep. Just as you were about to fall asleep, a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around your waist. The unexpected contact sent a jolt of adrenaline through your system, instantly dispelling any trace of drowsiness from your body as all your muscles grew tight. On instinct, you threw your elbow backward in a defensive motion, connecting with something solid behind you.

"Ach - Scheiße!" Kurt's pained voice rang out as he quickly brought his hand up to cradle his nose. The sudden commotion caused several of the bamfs to materialize in your lap, their small forms bristling with protective energy. Their eyes glowed intensely in the darkness as they positioned themselves defensively with their backs puffed up, but upon recognizing Kurt, their aggressive posturing immediately melted away.

"Kurt?? Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry," you muttered apologetically, your hand instinctively reaching out through the darkness to find his where it was pressed against his face. Your heart was still racing from the startle. "You completely caught me off guard there...I didn't even sense you in the room at all."

"Heh...it's alright, liebling...I should have let you know I returned from the mission early. I wanted to surprise you but...you had already gone to sleep." He gently rubbed his nose where you had accidentally struck him, before carefully taking your outstretched hand in his and leaning closer to study your face in the dim light. "You seem completely drained of energy, ja? Was it a particularly demanding day?" His brow furrowed with concern, causing his usually neat hair to fall forward in loose curls that partially obscured his worried expression.

Your hand drifted upward of its own accord to brush through his disheveled curls, trying to smooth them back into place. "Yeah I...I had a busy day..." you admitted with a tired sigh.

"Sprechen Sie mit mir." Kurt spoke gently, his voice a soothing whisper as he drew you close against his body. The winter season had blessed him with an exceptionally thick coat, his usual short fur now grown into a luxurious winter covering that was so soft and warm. You nestled deeper into his embrace, his typically velvet-like fuzz had grown into longer, softer strands that were just long enough to twirl playfully around your fingers, particularly abundant across his chest where it formed gentle curls.

His tail moved with gentle affection against your leg as he carefully positioned you both for comfort, creating a cozy space where you could share your stories. With interest reflecting in his eyes, Kurt settled in to hear about your day. He listened intently as you recounted your baking experience with the bamfs, playing outside with the children, and decorating like an expert. You were pretty proud of yourself.

"Ah, I figured you made those cookies... they are absolutely perfect, my liebe. I might have snuck a few when I got back," he smiled warmly, his prominent fangs poking out endearingly as he spoke. His gentle, playful tease made your cheeks flush with warmth and you instinctively shifted even closer to his comforting presence.

"Did you happen to see the special batch I made just for you?" you asked, looking up at him expectantly.

"Ja...I must confess…I ate them all," he replied with a hint of satisfaction in his voice, his lips brushing your forehead as he leaned down to kiss your skin.

"You didn't save a single one??" You looked up at him with a playful smirk, which he couldn't help but mirror on his own face.

"Nein... they were specifically made for me, weren't they? And I am absolutely not sharing," he declared with mock possessiveness. He loved your cookies, and whenever you bakes him anything, he tended to be pretty protective over the things you made.

"Greedy..." You murmured, making Kurt lean down again, his chest rumbling softly as his voice became heavy with drowsiness.

"Stets."

Thanks for reading~

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest

[billiesguitar]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐄𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡

"Still hate me?"

"S-shit!" I murmured, stumbling backward and landing on the cold, hard floor. The room was spinning, my vision blurred by a sea of faces that all seemed to be laughing at me. I was so drunk it was hard to even make out the words that were being thrown around, the music pounding in my ears like a never-ending headache.

"Looks like someone had a little too much fun," a voice said, cold and mocking.

I looked up to see Billie standing over me, her signature black hair falling around her.

i roll my eyes "Bite me."

"With pleasure," she smirked, extending a hand to help me up.

I took it begrudgingly, and she yanked me up onto my feet.

"Thanks I guess." I muttered, brushing off my clothes.

"You're welcome," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

We hated each other. It had been a long-standing rivalry that had started when we were just kids. But tonight was different. The alcohol had lowered my inhibitions, and the way she was looking at me, with a glint in her eye that I had never seen before, was sending my heart racing in a way that was anything but friendly.

"well, i'll see you around," I stumbled away from her.

"Not if I see you first," she called after me.

I managed to make my way to the bathroom, where I splashed cold water on my face and took a deep breath. "What the hell is going on?" I whispered to my reflection. as I reapply my mascara and lip gloss, all I can think about is Billie, the way she walks, talks, and her eyes.

When I came out, Billie was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. "you doin' alright?" she asked.

"Fine," I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Just had to take a breather, Why do you care?"

"Who told you I care?" she said, pushing off the wall and coming closer. "I just don't want to see you make a fool of yourself."

"I can handle myself," I snapped.

"Oh, I think we both know that's not true," she said, her voice low and challenging. "But maybe I can help you with that."

Before I could react, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me into a nearby room, closing the door behind us.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yelped.

"Just what you need," she said, her eyes darkening.

And before I knew it, her lips were pressed against mine, hard and demanding. I gasped in surprise, but she took the opportunity to slip her tongue into my mouth. It was like nothing I had ever felt before, like fireworks going off in my head.

I weakly claw against her chest, but she ignored it. "Billie," I murmured, not sounding nearly as confident as I wanted to.

"Want me to stop?" she whispered against my mouth, her breath hot and sweet.

"No," I found myself admitting, my hands moving to her waist.

"Good," she said, and then she kissed me again, this time with more force.

Her hands were everywhere, roaming over my body as if she owned it. She pushed me against the wall, her body pressing into mine as she kissed down my neck. I could feel my knees giving out, but she held me up, her grip on my hips firm and possessive.

"You like that?" she murmured, her teeth grazing my earlobe.

"Yes," I breathed, arching my neck to give her better access.

"You're so responsive," she said, a hint of a smile in her voice.

Her hands slid up my shirt, and she began to unbutton my pants. "Billie-"

"I said I'd help you," she interrupted, her voice firm. "And I always keep my promises."

Her hands found my skin, and she began to tease me, her fingertips lightly tracing patterns along my stomach and hips. I couldn't help the little moan that escaped my lips.

"See?" she said, her breath hot against my neck. "You need this."

I nodded, unable to form words. She was right. I needed it. I needed her.

Her hands found my breasts, and she began to massage them through my shirt. I gasped as she pinched my nipples, the sensation sending shockwaves through my body.

"Take it off," she ordered, and I complied, letting my shirt fall to the floor. She took a moment to appreciate the view, her eyes lingering on my bare skin before she bent down to kiss me again.

Her mouth moved from my neck to my breasts, her teeth scraping against my sensitive flesh as she sucked and licked. I was lost in sensation, my mind a haze of pleasure.

"Billie," I whimpered, my hands fisting in her hair.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice low and seductive.

"You," I said simply.

"Good girl," she murmured, her hand sliding down to unzip my pants. She pulled them down, along with my underwear, leaving me naked before her.

"Now, get on the bed," she said, pointing to the rumpled mess in the corner of the room.

I obeyed, my legs shaking as I climbed onto the mattress. She followed, straddling my hips and looking down at me with a wicked smile.

"Such a slut, aren't you, hm?" she said, her voice filled with a mocking affection. "Begging for it like this."

"I'm not a slut," I protested weakly.

"Oh no?" she said, her thumb circling my clit. "Then tell me what you want."

"I-I want you to-to fuck me," I stuttered, my face burning with embarrassment.

"That's more like it," she said, and she leaned down to kiss me again. Her hand continued to work my clit, her fingers sliding in and out of me with an expert touch.

I moaned into her mouth, my body responding to her every move. She was in complete control, and I loved it.

"You're so wet," she coos, "Just for me, hm?"

"Yes," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

Billie smirked, moving down to kiss my stomach and then lower. She hovered over my pussy, her breath making me squirm.

"Please Billie" I begged. "need you s'bad."

Without another word, she buried her face between my legs, her tongue sliding through my folds and finding my clit. She licked and sucked with a passion that surprised me.

"Fuck," I gasped, my back arching.

suddenly she stops.

"Need you to be quiet ma, can't have anyone one knowing you're gettin' fucked so good by your enemy,can you?"

I nodded, biting my lip to stifle my moans. She grinned and went back to work, her tongue moving with an intensity that had me seeing stars.

I felt my orgasm building, my muscles tightening as she brought me closer and closer to the edge.

"Billie," I moan a bit to loud causing her to stop

"What did I say?" she looked up at me, her eyes dark and demanding. She glides up and wraps her hand around my chin, forcing me to look at her. "Hm, didn't I tell you to be quiet?"

I nodded again, my eyes wide.

"Words."

"Yes," I whispered.

"Good," she said, reaching down and lightly biting my neck and then sucking on the spot to sooth the pain. She starts to kiss me again, and I felt myself getting wetter.

Her fingers slid into me again, moving in a rhythm that made me see spots. I bit my lip harder, trying to keep the noise in.

"That's it," she murmured, her voice filled with satisfaction. "Take it all for me."

And then she was moving again, her tongue flicking against my clit as she curled her fingers inside of me. It was too much. I couldn't hold back anymore.

My orgasm crashed over me like a wave, my body convulsing as she continued to lick and suck. I moaned quietly, my eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure consumed me.

"Good girl" she said, moving back up to kiss me, her mouth tasting of me.

I looked up at her, my vision still hazy.

"You're not done yet," she said, her voice still firm.

She climbed off the bed and reached into the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a strap-on.

"What are you-?" I started to protest, but she silenced me with a look.

"I'm going to fuck you," she said, her voice cold and commanding.

"turn around, ass up." she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

I did as I was told, my heart racing as she secured the strap-on around her hips.

"Ready?" she asked, her hand resting on my lower back.

I nodded, my voice lost.

"I can't hear you," she says, tugging on my hair to make a makeshift ponytail with her fist.

"Yes," I murmured.

"Good."

And then she was pushing into me, the strap-on filling me up in a way that was both painful and exhilarating.

"Fuck," I gasped.

"That's it," she said, her hand coming down on my ass in a firm slap. "Take it."

Her strokes grew harder, faster, and I found myself pushing back into her, craving more. She slapped me again, and I moaned, my body on fire.

"You like it, don't you my little slut?" she asked, her voice taunting.

"Y-yes," I stuttered, my cheeks flushing.

Her free and snakes it way to my throat ,"You're mine, aren't you?" she whispers, her grip tightening.

"Y-yes," I croak out.

Her hand releases my throat, and I breathe out a sigh of relief.

"Good," she says, her voice softer now.

Tears of pleasure stream down my face as she picks up the speed of her thrusts. It's almost too much, but I want more. I need more.

"Billie," I whine, "I'm going to-"

"Don't you fucking dare, not yet." She says, slapping me again.

I moan, my body shaking with the effort to hold back.

"Look at me," she orders.

I turn my head, and she's there, her eyes locked on mine. They're not cold anymore, but filled with something else, something that makes my heart race even faster.

"Come for me," she whispers, and that's all it takes.

My second orgasm hits me like a truck, my body spasming around her as I scream out her name. She groans, her own pleasure clear in her voice.

"Still hate me?"

____

posted on October 6th 2024 || not proofread.

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 10: Ghost’s Date

Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

W: Ghost x Reader (+ Ghost x Price x Reader), threesome, douple p, a bit of choking, feelings.

It's a couple of days after your little adventure with Soap, while you are making yourself a cup of coffee that Ghost enters the house. He walks behind you, smiling when you smile at him, he hugs you from behind kissing the back of your head. 

“How you doing, birdie?” He asks, resting his head on yours.

“Really good, Ghostie.” You answer, smiling enjoying the warmth of his body.

“Any plans for today?” He asks

“Yeah, I was planning on going running later, then I was going to go on a flight to Madagascar and probably have dinner at some terrorist organisation headquarters.” You answer, unnecessarily sarcastic knowing perfectly fine you can't leave the house. “Why? You wanna join?”

“Ha, ha. Well, since you are so busy I'll ask Gaz if he wants to help me with the dogs then.” He says casually, stepping back and chuckling when you whip your head around.

“Dogs?” You ask with a wide smile on your face. 

“Yeah, there is a bunch of new K-9 units and I have been assigned to arrange their trainers and partners.” He explains. “I thought you'd like to spend the afternoon with the puppies but it seems you're busy, so.”

“No, no, I'm not.” You quickly say, clinging to his t-shirt. “I'm sorry, I was just joking, sorry, sorry.” 

You lay your head on his chest, looking up to him with puppy eyes. 

“Can I see the doggies?” You ask smiling softly.

He chuckles, shaking his head at your antics and patting your butt. 

“Put on your shoes then, let's go.” You quickly scurry past him, coffee long forgotten on the kitchen counter. You end up being the one pulling him out of the house, excited to see dogs.

The fresh air of the outside fills your lungs when you take a deep breath making Ghost chuckle. “You're acting like the house doesn't have windows.” 

You laugh back, not being able to argue and walking towards the car. It is a quick drive back to base, and different from Soap, Ghost lets you open your own door waiting for you before the car to hold your hand on your way inside the dog kennels. 

The barks and whines of the puppies can be heard immediately and Ghost moves his hand to the small part of your back to push you forward telling you to go for them. 

You walk faster almost running until reaching the gate at the end of the hall where the puppies are, little tails wagging to the sound of your voice excited to meet new people. You crouch down getting your finger inside that immediately get bitten and licked by the little devils. 

“Want to help me give them their tags?” Ghost asks when he reaches you. “You need to go inside, I'm sure you'll hate it.”

You end up having the time of your life, once inside you sit on the floor close to the gate with Ghost sitting on the other side of the gate. He passes the collars with the tag for each dog, laughing when you try and identify each of the puppies when they won't stay still for a second. 

By the end, most of the dogs are already falling asleep around you; even some on top of you. And when you are done with the tags, Ghost moves to the desk to sign the last documents required.

“Oh, no!” You exclaim getting his attention. “He peed on me!” You whine, moving the puppy that was on your lap and getting out. Holding the t-shirt away from your body, a big, circular spot in the middle of it. 

Ghost chuckles when he sees you, noticing a familiar tag on it. “Wait, is that…”

“Soap's t-shirt?” You ask, looking at what he's pointing. “Yeah, it is.” 

That turns Ghost's chuckle into a whole belly laugh as he stands, finished all the work, picking it up. “Let's go to the room, I'll lend you one of mine.” 

“You got a room in here?” You ask walking after him.

“Yeah, nothing major. Price managed to get us a room for each of us, Gaz and Soap share theirs cause they are clingy but Price and I got our own. Rank privileges.” He says winking at you, slightly blushing for some reason at such a silly gesture. 

The room is close by, and when you enter Ghost sits on his bed dropping the papers on his desk. You take off the shirt, careful not to touch it with your face in the process. In his bathroom, you wash the part of your abdomen that you feel moist, grimacing at the knowledge it is pee and walk back into the room. Not bothering to put on a shirt and sitting on Ghost's lap, your legs going around his hips.

He looks at you, hugging you back and a look of mischievousness in his eyes. 

“So you told Johnny that you loved him.” Ghost suddenly says, blood blushing to your face making you hide it on his neck as you groan.

“He couldn't stay quiet, could he?” You ask, making the man chuckle as his hand moves up and down your back.

“Nah, you would have threatened him with stopping to love him or something for him to be quiet.” He jokes, his other hand resting on your thigh. “But why do you want him not to say anything, love? Embarrassed of him?”

“No. Of me.” You admit, mumbling against his skin while you hug his torso. 

“Explain.” He simply says, pulling words out of you; feeling a certain wave of proudness that you found a safe space to talk in him, even if hiding your face. 

“I feel silly… too exposed… I don't like it…” you say, burying your face even more if possible trying to hide. 

“It is overwhelming, right? He asks, resting his head on top of yours. “And confusing… it is already confusing coming to terms with the feeling of one person, let alone four of them, right?”

You simply nod against his neck, like a stubborn kid getting called out. 

“And you feel the pressure to automatically love the four of them. There is that one person that you feel like the relationship is a bit more forward or is just different from the rest, maybe you met them before or clicked easier with them. But now, it is not fair to the rest so you start to force yourself to love them too, and it is not that you don't, is that you are not letting the relationship evolve naturally and you are pressuring it, and it doesn't feel right. And then, that turns into feeling that they are gonna notice it, and they are going to hate you and you are going to lose them all, but now you want them and instead of feeling love you feel scared and you don't want to admit it.” He says calmly, each word as if he was reading your mind. You look up to him, brows furrowed and glossy eyes. “Right?”

“How do you…” you half ask, looking into his eyes that crinkle when he smiles. 

“Well, birdie.” He says with a soft chuckle. “We didn't wake up one day and decided we were all married together and everything was perfect. It took us years to finally set everything in.”

“Years?” You ask surprised by the time.

Simon hums as an answer. “We met you a month ago. So you already doing a better job than all of us.” He chuckles. “I'm pretty sure I was the one who did the shittiest job with it, to be honest… I kept thinking Soap didn't like me back, that he was afraid to tell me off and that was why he wanted more with Gaz and Price. Funniest thing is that we were not really dating because I was already unsure about him liking me more than physically.”

“And how did you do it?” You ask.

“Well, the thing that I struggled the most was with how jealous was of the way Soap would look at them. Once I got my head out of my own ass I realised he look at me just like that as well…” He says cupping your face. “And I'm pretty sure he is starting to look at you just like that too. And he is not the only one.”

You look up into his eyes, you have never seen them like they look at the moment. Clear with emotions, no walls in between, just pouring into you the reassurance you so badly need. It brings tears to your eyes, not sad, simply feeling like the door holding all the anxiousness and self-doubt has just been opened and those feelings are being flushed out. 

“Can I kiss you?” You ask with a sob, your hand reaching to the bottom of his mask not daring to actually touch it until he tells you it's okay. He nods, helping you take it off; and before you can kiss him he cups your face stopping you.

“You are alright, birdie?” He asks, concern obvious in his voice. You quickly nod, not wanting to use words and Ghost takes pity on you, probably for seeing himself on you, because he doesn't push you and leans forward crashing his lips against yours. 

His hands move down to your hips, pulling you tightly against him; his tongue finds its way inside dancing along with yours. You grab his shoulders, his wide hands engulfing your ribs pulling you close.

Your hips grind against his crotch making him groan into your mouth, his cock coming to life against your ass. One of his hands moves lower, to where your spine ends and pushes you helping you move against him.

“Aww, poor birdie needs me to fuck all my love into her tight sweet cunt?” He coos into your neck, making you whine out of embarrassment. “Show her how much we want her, our treasured birdie. So luckily that we found you, you know that?”

Ghost moves to kiss your cheeks, drinking your tears as he does. His hand find its way inside of your pants, sliding down until he reaches your entrance groaning when he feels the wetness.

“So wet already, birdie?” He snickers looking at your face as you close your eyes, biting your lips as you keep moving your hips trying to get his finger inside of you. He indulges you, inserting two fingers inside your weeping cunt making you arch your back as a soft moan escapes your lips. 

It is fast, the way he easily takes off your clothes; barely making you stand to take off your clothes before he has you straddling his lap. He's still clothed when you pull him down, making him lay on his back with you still on his lap. 

“I want to ride you, Simon Riley.” 

And who in the hell is he to deny your wishes? He doesn't even stop to think how you learnt his name, Johnny most likely. But you standing over him, hair framing your face, light from outside illuminating you from behind looking like a fucking angel. And it takes him a minute, to remember that he has free will to roam your body with his hands. 

He helps you undo his pants, only taking them down to his mid-thigh before pulling his dick out of his briefs. Simon knows you are not as stretched as you should be, but when he sees you spit down on his tip rubbing your small hand up and down, he too can't wait any longer. 

He helps you, lowering you on his dick as it stretches you to the brim. He sees the look of pure ecstasy on your face; eyes dropping close, brown furrow and lip between your teeth keeping you from moaning out loud. 

He is no better than you, his fingertips dig into the fat of your hips with a bruising strength, his eyes locked into the way your lips spread to allow his dick deep into you. He groans when he feels your hip flush against his, smiling when he sees you grind forward to find friction against your clit; your legs slightly buckling when his trimmed pubes give you that needed touch. 

He moves his hand forward, brushing the soft fuzz of your abdomen as he presses his hand on it placing his hand right where he knows his tip is at. Pressing down at it and moving his thumb slowly down your body, making you feel him inside of you; almost able to tell every vein of his shaft. 

It must also do something for him with the way he groans, using his other hand to move your hips back and forward savouring every millimetre of friction that it gives him. You press your hands on his chest, bending your knees under you getting in position to move up and down. 

He sighs, a feeling of victory in his heart as he moves both his arms to cross them under his head; as if he was simply sunbathing on the beach and not having sex. 

You chuckle when you see him, a refreshing of sight of seeing him smile satisfied with himself and with no mask on the way. 

“Enjoying the view, Riley?” You tease, still not moving and letting yourself rest for a second. 

“Very.” He simply answers, you the white of his teeth peeks as he gives you a tiny smile. “Was it Johnny that told you?”

“Obviously.” You chuckle back, Simon's eyebrow twitching when you do and your cunt clenches around him. “He actually said your name right before eating my ass… I’m still figuring out how to feel about it.”

Your comment makes him chuckle, moving inside of you forcing an intake of air in you. “Nah, that’s just cause you have a bloody nice arse, birdie. Must have reminded him of mine.”

You shake your head. “I’ll have to check it myself then.” You say, raising your chin. 

“Aw, for fucks sake. I already have to hide my arse from Johnny, not from you too.” He laughs, covering his eyes with his arm. 

“Aww, Simon, you getting shy.” You tease him, softly pulling his arm.

“Ha, I’ll show you shy.” He says with a chuckle, he grabs your calves one on each hand pulling you up. It forces you to plant your hands on each side of his head when he pulls your lower body up. It leaves you holding yourself up, with only your hands on the bed, legs spread open and his dick resting on your entrance having forced out with the change in position. 

You look down, seeing the clear string of arousal linking the two of you together, and you watch as he slowly lowers your hips; his tip catching at your entrance and he suddenly thrusts his hips up filling you up easily. 

It forces the air out of your lungs, leaving you with your mouth open right over his face and if you had your eyes open you would be able to see that he looks just as fucked out as you. Eyes closed in bliss, mouth open and head slightly tilted back. 

He moves you up and down, using you like a human fleshlight, the humble show of his sheer strength only fueling your arousal. This man has the strength to break you in two, and instead is using all his power to make you feel good.

It is an angle at which he reaches so deep, every time he lowers your or his hips rises it is skin on skin; there is not an inch of his dick that is not inside of you. Your arousal drips down, making plat plat plat sounds every time your clit kisses his body. 

It has your mind empty, focusing on keeping yourself up but every thrust threatens to make you fall face-first on his. Your arms start to shake after a bit, it is hard to stay up when you are getting fuck within an inch of your life. 

You lower yourself, choosing to rest on your forearms; getting closer to his face but still keeping yourself off of him. “Getting tired, birdie?” He asks between grunts. “Better cum soon them, love.”

He changes the angle again, and somehow the new angle makes it easier for him to reach that point inside of you that has your eyes rolling back into your skull; moaning his name loudly as you feel your climax approach suddenly. 

“Yeah, just like that, birdie.” He says, satisfied with himself that he was able to have you coming undone so quickly. “C’mon, birdie, give to me, love.”

You whine, wanting to hold on a little bit longer; just a bit more.

But it is just a couple thrusts more than have you finally collapsing over him, barely dodging his face on your way down when you come; arms shaking when you feel him let go of you just to rub your clit in tight circles to make you climax last making you moan on his hear.

He lets you breathe when you slap his hand, chuckling to himself when you do and he lets you rest. With you resting on him, both your arms over his head and his face on your chest.  

It takes you a moment to catch your breath back, and when you do you look down to see his dick still red and angry. “You didn't finish…”

“I know, I had another plan.” He says. “Are you alright, love?” He asks, and when you nod he smiles. Standing up keeping you on his arms, your legs around his hips. “Let’s go visit Price.”

“What?” You ask, dumbfounded when you see him start to walk towards the door. “Wait, no, we are naked, people will see.”

“No, they won’t. And I’m dressed.” He argues, and he is right. His only skin showing being his dick and his face. Funny enough.

You hug him, hiding your face on his neck and accepting your fate. He walks outside, he knows perfectly fine that only he and Price are on this side of the base but you don't need to know that. He reaches Price's office in less than a minute which for you feels like an eternity and he knocks on the door, going in when Price says “C’mon in” from the inside.

“Night, Captain.” He says as if it is the most normal interaction. 

“Well, hello Simon.” The captain answers, chuckling when he sees you still hiding. “Hi, birdie.”

You still feel yourself burn with embarrassment, mumbling a tiny Hi as an answer; only pulling your face out when Simons sits you on Price's desk. “Lay down.” Simon tells you.

You look behind you, seeing as Price moves everything so you can lay back; choosing to prop yourself on your elbows to remain able to look at them. 

“Give me a kiss?” Price asks, still sitting on his chair and you give him a soft peck on the lips making the man smile, his moustache moving as he does. “Are you having fun?”

“I am.” You answer and you turn to Ghost. “But he isn’t”

Ghost scoffs at you, slapping your thigh at the same time. “And who says I’m not having fun.”

“He didn't finish.” You tell Price, looking up at him, feeling like a kid snitching on somebody. 

“And whose fault is that?” Ghost answers, teasing you. 

It makes you gasp, feeling offended by his words and you sidekick him his ribs not strong enough to actually hurt him. “Don't say those things to me, I feel bad later!” You admit

“Now, now, settle down the both of you.” He says chuckling as he stands up, slowly walking to stand beside Ghost. “If you have so much energy why don't you fuck it out instead of fighting.”

Ghost groans between your legs, and it's then that you notice that Price is fisting his cock, moving his rough hand slowly up and down Ghost's length aligning it with your entrance. He pushes Ghost forward, filling you up once more and making you moan softly. 

“Lay down.” Price tells you this time, and you oblige letting your back rest against the table. Ghost’s hands move to the underside of your thighs, keeping them up closer to your chest. His hips move slowly in and out of you, and you notice one of his hands slip from your leg. 

Wet sounds catch your attention and when you look up you see Price kissing Ghost, his hand on the back of Ghost's head and Ghost’s hand wrapped around Price’s shaft. He moves his hand at the same pace as the one set by his hips fucking you, you barely hear them moan into each other mouth. The slightest twitch of their eyebrow when they touch a weak spot.

You notice Price’s hand on Ghost’s waist under his shirt, rubbing circles with his thumb and slightly pushing him forward to meet your hips. The one that is behind his head closes around his hair, pulling his head slightly back and Price moves to kiss the man’s throat, a moan leaving Ghost’s mouth as he looks up. 

You see Price drag his tongue flat against Ghost’s neck, moving up to behind his ear biting at his lobe and it is then that he catches you staring; a smirk appearing on his face. “I think birdie is a little perver that likes to watch…” He snitches, a tone of voice that lets you know you are in trouble. 

“I think she just wants more attention… Can’t have enough, do you, birdie?” Ghost asks, grunting as he keeps thrusting in and out. 

“Not true...” You mumble, half whining. You follow Price as he moves away from Ghost, his hand finding its way back to your leg. Price stands behind you, pressing his hand on your chest to make you lie down coming face to face with his dick right in front of your face. 

“Maybe if you have a cock down your throat you will stop lying.” He says, fisting his dick and probing your lips. You open your mouth slowly, expecting him to ease his way inside little by little. Instead, the moment your mouth is opened enough he thrusts forward, making you gag.

“Fuck!” You heard Ghost groan. “Do it again, captain. She clenched down so hard when you did.”

Price chuckles, pulling back and bending down to look at your face. He grabs your hand, moving it so his fingers are on your palm. “If it gets too much, grab it twice, alright, love?” He instructs and you nod, opening your mouth back again eagerly.

He doesn't waste time, filling your mouth back at the same time Ghost does, making you arch your back at the double stimulation. Something about the unusual harder way that the both of them are fucking you tonight truly ignites something inside of you. Ever since your weekend with Soap, something in the dynamics of the five seems to have changed.

Before, they would always touch you with such care as if scared you would break or that they would scare you off if they pressed a bit too hard. Always putting you in front of them, making sure you were enjoying it most time not even caring about themselves.

Not that they are not caring about it today, but there is a certain edge about it that shows that they are enjoying it doing it harder not for the extra friction but for the feeling that they are allowed to do it to you and you are basking on the attention received. 

Price and Ghost thrust in and out so hard that for a second you fear they may meet in the middle, their hands roam your body, pressing, scratching, slightly slapping just to make you jump at the sting. 

Price leans forward to kiss Ghost again, the change in angle making his shaft hit deeper in your throat making you grab his finger in reflex; once, not twice. And once he is sure of it, he keeps fucking your skull without much of a care.

It is not much longer after that you feel your second climax on the night approach, not that you could do much about it. The change in Price's attitude, from worshipping you on your first night to the lack of care of tonight truly opens your eyes to the wide range of possibilities with the man.

And the way Ghost has been filling you up, cunt stretched to accommodate the wide size of his shaft on every thrust has you wailing around Price when his thumb rubs your clit in tight circles. You combust on a loud moan around Price, Ghost holding your hips hard as he picks up the pace trying to reach his as well, grunting loudly and pulling out last second to paint your abdomen white with his spend, groaning at the sigh. 

It is Price the last to come, letting go of your hand to wrap both of his around your throat to fuck it harder. It makes you panic for a second, the lack of his hand translating to a lack of communication to let him know if it is too much. It only lasts until Ghost’s hand takes Price’s place, keeping you grounded as he moves to your side kissing your hand. 

Price's hands wrap harder than expected, making it almost impossible to breathe and having to lean on holding your breath for as long as Price needs hoping to have the lungs capacity. He finally does, right as you start to think about tapping out, he comes deep down your throat, coughing when he finally lets go of your neck. 

He pulls back, letting you breathe, marvelling at the sight of his pretty bird looking so filthy with his and his Lieutenant come on her body. He sits back down on his chair, picking you up to sit you down on his lap; using the tissues on his desk to wash as good as he can the come and spit drying up on your face as you are still coughing up a bit. 

Post-nut clarity hits Price hard when he sees the imprints on his hands on your neck, they are just red for the lack of oxygen; he knows perfectly fine there will be no marks in the morning. But right now you are coughing up a lung and his hands are around your neck. 

He cuddles you, kissing your head as he bathes you in apologies. “I’m sorry, birdie. I was too rough, sorry, love.”

You shake your head, making him look down at your face, heart warming up when he sees a little mischievous smile on your mouth. “I liked it.” You say, voice hoarse and scratched. 

Ghost chuckles behind you, crouching down to let a glass of water on your hands. “You were right, Captain. She is a little perver.” He jokes, dropping a kiss on your forehead. 

Hi my lovelies!! 💗💗

Only two more chapters to go to finish this series, and I dont know how to feel about it.

I only need to write the finale, and revise the next one, AAAAA so nervous.

Once I'm done with that I'll do a lot of blogkeeping so it is a lot more tidy because it is A MESS right now, and I want it to be easier to find everything I have written before adding more to the chaos.

TagList: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @cassiecasluciluce @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tired-writer04 @evolutionarry @prettykinkysoul @pagesfalling @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra  @renabear88 @lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3 @tooloudarts @sodavrr @anirok2 @lilliumrorum @ladyxtiger @multy-fandom-lover @thriving-n-jiving @lotionlamp @spicyspicyliving @xxeiraxx @vampirekilmerfic @keiraslayz @risingofjupiter @witchthewriter @soupinasock @phantomly27 @arbesa-mind  @multifandomheathenannie  @spadekip @cmbghost @herefor-tojis-tits @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce

[sv5hive]

keep the lights on | charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: none!

word count: 694

notes: lets act like this isn't the first time i've posted since july guys thanks! not proofread at all it's like midnight pls.

masterlist!

placing the copious amount of snacks and popcorn on the table, you plopped onto the sofa and snuggled up to your boyfriend.

"so, what did you pick?"

you looked ahead of you to the screen and began reading the summary, brows pulling together tighter with every word.

"a horror movie? are you sure, charles? i thought you hated these kinda things."

"well, i haven't watched many of them, but i know you're a fan of them, so what's the harm in trying?"

the grin on your face grew at his effort as you nodded along to his words, still doubtful of his ability to sit through it in its entirety.

"alright, but you're not gonna be scared and get nightmares after, are you?"

"me? no, if anything i'll be your knight in shining armour tonight if you get scared!"

the movie began playing as you pushed yourself deeper into charles side with a knowing smirk, the screen casting a dim glow onto your faces.

"ok, if you say so."

and in all fairness to charles, he did manage to hold out for almost an hour before you noticed him flinch at a particularly unnerving jump scare. nudging him gently, you turned the volume down and whispered softly into the darkness.

"charles, you ok?"

he turned to you slowly, an almost dazed look in his eyes. and you weren't sure if it was the lighting or your vision, but his skin seemed positively pale.

"hm? yeah, yeah i'm fine."

you raised an eyebrow at his half-hearted response, wondering if he was regretting his choice (albeit a romantic gesture).

"are you sure? we can watch something else if you want, i think i saw harry potter earlier-"

he quickly brushes you off and grabs the remote to raise the volume again, rubbing your thigh gently.

"shhh, i'm ok. it's almost done anyways."

he turns back to the movie but you let your eyes linger on him for a few seconds longer, searching for any doubt but not finding any. hesitantly, you start watching again. and you really did mean to keep an eye on him, but found yourself getting sucked into the movie as time went on.

the room sunk into darkness as the credits began rolling and a dull silence filled the air. reaching for the tv remote, you looked over to your boyfriend next to you.

"so... what did you think?"

seeing the ghostly look on his face, you started to wonder whether a horror movie was really the best choice at this time of night.

"charles, you ok? you look a little...uhm..."

"me? oh i'm fine, mon coeur. see, i told you i would be fine! it's just a movie after all!"

he puts the bowl of popcorn on the side and stands to turn the lights back on. you sit up and turn to watch him curiously.

"are you sure? it's ok if you're scared it's meant to do that!"

he shakes his head, adamant that he wasn't affected by the chilling scenes.

"i am not scared. but, we are absolutely sleeping with all the lights on tonight. and that has nothing to do with the movie, before you ask."

you bite back a grin and look at charles pointedly.

"oh really?"

he nods his head rapidly, sitting back down on the sofa next to you.

"yep. and also, one of us has to stand outside the bathroom if the other one is using it."

this time you couldn't help it and let out a loud cackle.

"charles, my love, i know you only watched it for me and i thought it was really sweet of you but please, you don't have to torture yourself like that. i am just as happy to watch harry potter or cars with you."

charles breathes out a deep sigh of relief and runs his hands over his face at your words, a nervous smile on his face as he declares his own confession.

"oh thank god. i almost threw up in my mouth when the serial killer popped up out of nowhere. and i wasn't kidding earlier, i want all the lights on tonight."

[rogueddie]

Eddie slams his pile of books down on the counter, grinning at how hard Steve startles.

"Jesus, fuck," Steve holds a hand to his chest, glaring. "Man, come on, I'm too young to die of a heart attack."

"Are you sure about that?" Eddie reaches over, to tug at his hair- Steve bats his hand away before he can get near. "What are you now, seventy?"

"I'll have you know that the silver only adds to my charm."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that." He pats the pile of books. "I need to check all of these out."

"You know the limit."

"Please? Pretty please? I'll never insult you for going grey early ever again! Promise!"

"You've made that promise before," Steve grumbles, but starts to check the books out anyway. "What's all of this for anyway? New campaign or something?"

"Nah. Robin mentioned something about the cold war and nuclear shit. Got me curious."

Steve pointedly looks at the books, snorting. "Curious."

"What, you've never wanted to learn some new thing or something?"

"Not this much."

"What about all those sports you played?"

"That was more to do with my parents than me actually wanting to do it."

Eddies eyes narrow because... yeah. Outside of his old King Steve days, Eddie doesn't think Steve has ever wanted something. Not even for his birthday, or Christmas.

All he asks is for them to come to his and Robins flat. All he seems to want is confirmation that they're ok and alive.

"You always say you want kids though, right?"

"I mean, kind of. Though, I'm starting to think the brats we babysat might be more than enough for me."

"Chocolate?"

"Oh no..."

"What?"

"You're planning something, aren't you?"

"No! No, no, no... but there has to be something, right?"

"Something?"

"That you really want."

"There's nothing I need."

"That's not what I'm asking."

"That's all the answer you're getting." Steve shoves the pile of books towards him. "Get lost, I'm supposed to be working."

"Ugh, fine, you're no fun."

But he can't stop thinking about it. He ends up returning the pile of books, despite the fact that he barely read one page. When he tries to use it to question Steve, he dodges the question again.

He very quickly gives up, deciding to pester Robin until she tells him. That takes three weeks of constant, daily efforts. And, in the end, the answer is obvious.

Steve just wants to spend more time with people he cares about.

It's not easy to gather anyone in the party, given that there's no holiday or significant occasion- he manages it, though. All the kids, now young adults, organize transportation. Nancy and Jonathan, over the phone, help Eddie and Robin plan out where everyone will sleep with their small apartments.

The effort, and pain of organizing it all, is worth it for the look on Steves face when he comes home to find them all waiting for him.

When Dustin almost knocks him over with how harm he hugs him, for a second, Eddie is worried that he's going to start crying. But he holds it together, greets them all with so much enthusiasm...

"I forgot that he used to be like this," Robin comments, late into the night. They're sat a little away from the group, watching them argue over their games. "The kids mean a lot to him."

"He means a lot to them."

"I know. I think he forgets though, so... thank you."

Steve doesn't corner him until they've got the kids asleep- half of them going with Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle to Eddies appartment, the rest of them fighting over the little space in Steve and Robins.

"You could've got me chocolate," Steve says, nudging him.

"This is what you really wanted though, isn't it? That was the whole point, big boy."

"Right. Sorry, it... I wanted to say thank you. I know this must have taken a lot to organize and-"

"Steve. You don't need to thank me. Besides, I could never have done this on my own."

"Still... thank you." Steve is quiet for a moment, looking out to the busy city street. "What do you want?"

"This."

"No, what do you really want?"

"Yeah, this. Everyones together, having so much fun. We're gonna do a one-shot when you go to work tomorrow. And, uh... you're happy. I don't need anything more than that."

"Right," Steve clears his throat. He shuffles a little closer, so their sides are almost flush together, tentatively reaching out to hold Eddies hand. "You don't need anything else. What about what you want?"

"You know what I want."

"I want you to say it."

Steve leans over, bumping their shoulders together when he hesitates. He smiles, reassuring, and gives Eddies hand a squeeze.

"What do you want, Eddie?"

"You. I- I want you."

It's terrifying to admit, a horrifying leap... but the smile Steve gives him, so soft and happy, is more than worth it.

"As you wish."

[morallygreyyn]

Hey! I recently saw your work with hcs of the hxh boys and loved it! Wanted to ask if you could do a Hanahaki disease short story with Kurapika except it's the other way around where the reader has the disease. Reader tries to hide it from him but he eventually finds out because of how close they are as friends, if you're comfortable with this request >~<

hanahaki disease with the hxh boys (pt. 2) (kurapika, hisoka, illumi headcanons)

authors note: hi hi! i decided to do this request for all the hxh boys and not just kurapika! i hope that's ok anon!

warnings: mentions of death

this is part two of my hanahaki disease headcanons! you can read part one here where the boys have the disease!

requests are open! please read my rules!

wow

the poor boy gets very distressed when you just suddenly disappear

you don't answer his calls

you don't answer the door

he doesn't see you anywhere

it's like you just vanished into thin air

little did he know, you're dying

and it's because of him

when the first petal fell from your lips, you knew immediately what it was...and who it was for

you weren't sad that kurapika didn't love you back, you knew he didn't

he was much too focused on his goals, and you didn't want to distract him from his purpose

it was what had kept him going for the longest time after all

and you were honoured to have helped him

but now you were dying and you didn't want kurapika to know

knowing kurapika like the back of your hand, you knew how to hide from him

and so, you holed yourself away in a rundown apartment, letting the hanahaki disease slowly claim your body

kurapika is frantic at this point

he has searched high and low for you to no avail

he even enlisted the help of leorio, killua, and gon to find you

with the dream team assembled, it was only a matter of time until they tracked you down

the boys allowed kurapika to see you alone, not wanting to intrude where they were not welcome

although they were delighted to know that you were still alive

but only just

kurapika knows just by the petal soaked floor what is happening, and he rushes to your side

"who is it?" he asks, dumbfounded that you were dying of unrequited love

who wouldn't love you?

you had stood steadfast by his side time and time again, even when he thought you wouldn't

never once did you walk away

never once did you think of him as a burden

you stood by him, had helped him

he couldn't lose you

not you

"what can I do?" he pleaded, clasping your hand in his own

"there is nothing." you whispered, voice scratchy and hoarse from coughing

"tell me who it is, I'll find them."

"you already have."

"Leorio?"

"no, you idiot, it's you." you teased playfully, knowing that kurapika was anything but stupid

"you're dying because of me?"

"it's okay." you managed to smile at him, happy that he would be with you in your final moments

"I don't understand, why are you dying?"

"you know the myth, you know why."

"I do know the myth, which is why I don't know." kurapika too a break, smoothing back your hair from your forehead. "because I love you too."

it was almost miraculous how quickly the disease cleared from your lungs

you could suddenly breathe again

"really?" you almost didn't dare to believe it

"of course I do." he confirmed, before pulling you into a long awaited embrace

ok so hisoka is a tough one

he would know about the hanahaki disease

so he would know the signs

why you fell in love with hisoka was an utter mystery to you

you don't even know how it had happened

you had been friends and partners in crime with the man for as long as you could remember

but love? that seemed farfetched

until it wasn't

it began as a small cough, a light tickle in the back of your throat that acted as a warning that the worst was yet to come

you brushed it off, nothing thinking much of it until a petal fell into your hand

your eyes widened once you saw it, you had heard of the myth before during your travels

you knew what was coming

at first you didn't realise that it was hisoka you loved

who was the poor idiot who had won your heart? who were you about to die for?

you were sure to give them hell before you left this world, perhaps even bring them with you to the afterlife

how dare they end your life

only, your coughing grew worse once you saw hisoka again

with his catlike eyes and twisted grin

ah, that was the poor idiot

you knew the likelihood of hisoka every having feelings for you was slim to none, and the fact that you had developed the hanahaki disease was proof of that

unfortunately for you, hisoka was rather astute and noticed that you seemed sick

"don't tell me my favourite person has come down with the sniffles?"

"of course not."

you would avoid him after that, you didn't want him to see you weak

and you certainly didn't want him to find out that you loved him

so you hid, hoping that your death would be swift

hisoka noticed your absence, and he found himself not liking it one bit

you were the one who he enjoyed teasing, and who teased him in return

you were, as much as he was shocked to realise, rather close to him

remembering that you had seemed unwell the last time he had saw you, hisoka began to wonder whether your illness was serious

given the fact that you had disappeared unannounced, he began to think that there was something you were hiding

there is nothing hisoka loves more than a game

and you had unintentionally presented him with a great one

he tracked you down to a quiet forest of all places, surrounded by a field of red petals

hey, if you're hisoka's friend, you're going to be quite dramatic like he is

"my, my, this is quite the scene." he grinned as he approached, before seeing how pale you looked, the blood around your mouth, and the fact that you weren't moving

looking closer at the petals, he could see that they were red because of the dried blood that had stained them

oh, you had the hanahaki disease

considering the fact that you had left him without a word, he came to the correct conclusion

he wasn't an idiot, you clearly loved him

and you were dying

usually, hisoka enjoyed the idea of death but seeing you before him, basically in the afterlife, his perception of it drastically changed

he approached your body, narrowed eyes closely observing the stunted rise and fall of your chest, hearing the shallowness of your breaths

bringing his lips to your ear, hisoka whispered, "you really are quite dramatic, y/n, this is almost too much."

his fingers danced over your chapped lips

"what would you have me do, hm?"

his touch lightly trailed over your closed eyelids

"how unnecessary, considering the fact that I also love you."

it took a little while for you to regain consciousness

when you did, you found hisoka grinning at you

you also found him holding your hand

oh, you were both idiots

ok so lets just feed into the delusion for a sec that illumi would have the emotional capacity to love someone and actually admit it out loud

i refuse to write sad shit ok

so you love illumi

you had felt the emotion grow the more time you spent with the stoic assassin

it was no surprise when you realised you had developed the hanahaki disease

in fact, you had almost suspected it

once you realised you had loved illumi, it was only a matter of time before you died from it

there was no way someone as emotionally stunted as the eldest Zoldyck sibling would ever feel something remotely close to love, especially in the romantic department, especially for you

you knew him too well, you had been working with him for the longest time

ever since you first laid eyes on him, he was stuck with you

you followed him around, not bothering him enough for him to kill you, but just enough to get to know him

or, more accurately, for him to know you

illumi had grown used to you stubbornly following him around

he had grown to expect your endless chatter that often filled the void of silence

he had grown used to your constant presence

you knew he didn't mind, he had never sent you away

perhaps he was lonely and you fixed that

however, now that you were dying because of him, you had a choice to make

either, you could leave and die in peace, or you could tell him and see whether that would kill you faster

if you chose to hide, it would take him a matter of seconds to track you down - it was his job after all

if you chose the latter, you would mention it briefly, just to see how he would react

either way, the conversation would be the same

"by the way, I'm not going to be around for much longer, so you'll have to do that without me."

"where are you going?"

"to the most mysterious land of all." you smiled, wanting to make a joke out of your upcoming demise. "I have a date with the grim reaper."

illumi was perhaps the most confused you had ever seen him before

you had gone mad - what on earth were you talking about?

"what?"

"I'm dying, illumi." as if on cue, a coughing fit quickly swept through you, and a whole flower fell into your hand. you presented him with the bloodied bloom. "see?'

illumi has never heard of the hanahaki disease before

looking closer at you, he was ever so slightly perturbed to realise that you certainly looked unwell

"you just coughed up a flower."

"well spotted."

"how are you dying?"

you sighed, realising you would have to spell it out for him. "it's called the hanahaki disease, and it is a curse everyone suffering from unrequited love dreads."

"you love someone?"

you laughed darkly, here goes nothing

"you."

if you thought illumi looked confused before, that was nothing compared to now

"me?'

"is that so hard to believe?"

illumi couldn't fathom what he was hearing

someone loved him?

you loved him?

it sounded utterly ridiculous

but there you were, dying before his very eyes

"I don't understand."

"what don't you understand?"

"why are you dying?"

"I just told you why."

he stared at you blankly, black eyes boring into yours. "then the myth is wrong."

"what are you...?" you trailed off, not daring to hope what he might be implying. "do you love me?"

illumi didn't respond, and you didn't know whether he had the capability of admitting the words aloud

despite this, that was good enough for the disease to immediately clear from your lungs

and you took a deep breath to fill them again

gone was the pain, the heaviness, the urge to cough

"you love me." you looked at him again, filled with more hope than ever before

it wasn't a question this time

you knew illumi loved you, in his own special way

you dared to kiss him, and illumi allowed it despite his utter shock

that’s how you knew he meant it

[romaniacs]

▌ㅤNATASHA ROMANOFF — I MISS YOU MORE THAN LIFE

( read more ) synopsis — natasha's harsh words are like a knife twisting inside your already mean brain as she's been dealing with an imminent breakdown due to work-related stress, and so she soothes you from the pain she causes herself. warnings — female reader x natasha romanoff, crying, a little bit of everything; fluff + angst… so hurt-comfort.

"y/n- you're still up?" natasha sounds tired just before her breath catches in her throat as she sees the mess she's caused, your teary eyes lifting to rest on her worried face. "baby, no, why are you crying? are you in pain? having cramps?" and your silence is brief yet loud. "is it something i said? did i… did i make you cry?"

her hands roam over your wet cheeks as she feels a wave of that nurturing energy she usually has taking over her again, as strongly as it could be after a long time of giving you nothing. when she said i don't think i wanna go out in a stressed-out tone, looking over the paperwork she had to finish yesterday, it felt a bit off to you. when she had the last bites of the food you had kept for yourself, you just sulked in a corner. woman had to eat, it was fine. when she stopped kissing you goodbye before leaving, you understood. but when you were on a call and she started cussing out as she dealt with a sudden work issue that popped up and sounded rude to you too, it was a bit too much for you.

i'll hang up, she said not long ago. i'm a bit too mad to talk right now and you're not helping. your headache will pass, just go to bed.

you feel the distance natasha's putting between you two solidifying with time, and things don't seem to be going well with your job either.

it's just been hard. in general.

and now that she finally got home and entered your bedroom, reality hit her like a truck.

"it's nothing" you bring her hands down, off your face, but don't want to be rude. it really is nothing much. you just want to be left alone, as she seems to have been trying to make happen. "it really isn't, don't mind me. just sleep. it's late."

"are you kidding me? you're crying, y/n" her voice is not as soft, strangely. "if i did anything wrong, you can just tell me."

"can't you see it yourself?"

her eyes are suddenly locked onto your face, even though it's dark. she's also finally coming down from the long-lasting stress she's been through. "well, yeah" she sounds weird. calmer. confused. way more aware of herself, and consequently her eyes water up in a second. "yeah. sorry. i think i've been a bit harsh lately. it's just…"

"work, i know" you pat her hand softly as you give her an understanding look. "it's fine. just rest, okay?"

natasha can't bring herself to say much anyway, so she takes the chance to take off her jacket and lay down beside you. after a while, she rests an arm around your waist, pushing some hair off your forehead.

"i'm really sorry, y/n" natasha mumbles on your back. "i don't love you any less. i just haven't been doing so right. it's hard keeping my cool, and i try not to be harsh, but…" her voice trails off. "i've been under a lot of pressure. and not managing it well. but i love you."

"you don't have to explain anything to me, i understand. just don't treat me differently if you can just not treat me in any way and avoid making me second-guess my own actions" you whisper. "i love you a lot, nat. i don't need calmness, i just need to be sure you still love me. so it's okay."

"mhm. just hate myself for making you cry, you don't deserve that" she places a gentle kiss on your skin, her body warmly placed behind yours. and things almost feel normal for a second, just as they used to be before the mission she's been on. "i won't stop loving you even when hell freezes over, detka. trust me."

and you do, you can finally fall asleep. you feel wanted again, even if things still hurt, even if work won't stop on the way of your relationship, but whatever it is that tries to bring you down is fortunately none of your heart's business; even when your heart is heavy, it's still hers.

[sahisan]

silence.

tomioka giyuu x gn!reader.

⭒ summary: everyone knows that giyuu isn't much of a talker, so this depicts the silent moments with him that you both have come enjoy.

⭑ cw: sfw. mentions of giyuu's past (final selection w sabito). a bit of angst. reader is bad at comforting. giyuu loves you sm. like loves.

⭒ wc: 2.8k.

⭑ a/n: this took me too long wth, almost a month i fear lol. this was written during my demon slayer hyperfixation comeback (it's gone now) so uh. also acheron fic coming soon (i hope soon)! pls like and reblog !!

it wasn't exactly silence after giyuu finished speaking. there were sounds of birds chirping, wind occasionally blowing, resulting in sounds of swaying leaves on the trees being more audible. some even fell because of the invisible force of the air, ending up meeting the gravel ground near the engawa.

having told a good share of his past to you—precisely about sabito and the final selection, which were the main reason he wasn't exactly thrilled about taking part in the hashira training—giyuu decided to stop himself from telling you any more, choosing to leave other topics for later.

but will you still have this 'later' now that he's shared even a small bit of himself?

to you, the silence was awkward. not having the faintest idea of what to say in reply to that wasn't exactly what you would want to experience, yet here you were. it felt useless even trying to think of something, to try and make something up in your mind, even taking a bit more time than you usually do when thinking of a response, bur nothing could've prepared you to thinking of what to reply to this.

it made your stomach churn with how you realised you couldn't seem to know what to do, what to say, how to comfort him; the closest to you person finally started to open uo, little by little, bit by bit and you instead feel like an immobile log, only being able to sit there and listen, not being able to muster up a word of comfort.

and you know, you know that it's because you've never heard the said words of colsolation in your life; thus, you didn't know how to comfort giyuu.

another gust of wind blew through the air, nearly ruffling your and his hair, and for a moment you think of giyuu with his hair no longer in a low ponytail, but instead it being messy and disarranged and you think of running your fingers through it. you hope you'll have such opportunity, even if only once.

another fallen onto your lap leaf helped you out of your thoughts; it would be even more awkward if you hadn't managed to say something at all, daydreaming and continuing on staying silent. you take the leaf between your fingers before it manages to fly away and take a look at it; elm.

"i'm... sorry," you finally spoke, voice quiet as to not disturb anything around. you felt so meek just hearing your own voice. "i don't really know what to say. but i'm sorry for what happened with sabito."

you took a pause; you were never one to have a good way with words, and it made everything even worse in this situation.

"just know that... i'm here for you whenever you want to talk to me about anything. i'll listen."

giyuu's head was in the same position as yours—lowered to look down at his lap. he couldn't say the atmosphere was tense, no, not at all. he knew this was a lot to digest in such a small period of time, no matter how long you've been silent, and he could see your hesitation in choosing the right words; you surely didn't voice your inability to properly comfort him, but didn't blame you for your lack in knowledge about it. he could guess why.

"it's alright," he said just as quietly, silently exhaling a small breath. it felt as if it was easier to breathe now that he had shared this bit of his past to you. "it was about time i told you anyways. i'm already glad you listened. don't bother with words."

you still felt that just listening wasn't enough.

"have you eaten yet?" giyuu broke another silence after a few more minutes of listening to the wind's unregulated breathing, wishing to change the topic to not overexert you mentally any further—what he's told you was enough and it wasn't like he wanted you to dwell on that story. he simply wanted you to know.

"forgot to."

giyuu knew quite well as of now that you tended to, much to his dismay, forget to have some of the meals throughout the day, and it didn't make it better when you could even skip lunch because of training or meetings or anything at all. once, he even told you that he was going to forbid you to enter the training grounds unless you've had at least two meals throughout the day. it's safe to say he physically couldn't do so, so for that period of time you and your exercises were safe.

giyuu didn't need to hear more from you. standing up from his sitting position on the engawa, he then offered you a hand to help you up. and with the gesture, you both knew that there was no need for more words.

the silence in the small soba restaurant never bothered you; it's a place where people came to eat, not to talk, after all. you two were the only people inside for now, but the sounds of utensils clanking and the smell of more food being cooked in the kitchen were very much present, and still, besides that, it was silent.

and still, your mind never seemed to get over how giyuu just brushed your inability to utter something reassuring off. maybe he didn't even want and didn't need the comfort you failed to provide; maybe he expected something like that from you, judging from your earlier reaction to his words just as he'd started talking. yes, he must've known you were bad at feelings, especially other people's, but was he used to it? he undeniably looked like he was, and that was just sad.

chopsticks carefully picking up the soba and guiding them into your mouth, noticing giyuu doing the same near you, your mind picked up the thought that, probably, saying something regarding what he told you about would be inappropriate, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of needing to get something out; something that could just show him that you understand him that much, at least.

"sabito would most definitely be out to get you for the mindset you have now."

out of the corner of your eye you notice that giyuu's hand, previously holding his chopsticks with a bit of noodles picked up, stops. it's not at all an abrupt stop, more like when coming to a thought one's mind has been chasing for a while already. you stop, too, having finished chewing.

and when the silence between you two starts feeling a little too long and a little too tense, and you start thinking that you may have said a very wrong and inappropriate thing, giyuu speaks up in a such relaxed and unimpressed manner that you involuntarily start questioning your choice of words. you'd expected him to get mad or upset, but not—

"you for yours, too."

oh.

"...touchè."

well.

the nights are—mostly—always silent.

the nights spent with giyuu are silent in their own, unmistakable way.

you two seem to create another form of serenity together—everything becomes as still as possible, wind appearing barely once for a few moments to ruffle the trees' leaves and then disappear without a trace.

your head is gently laid on giyuu's lap and gaze fixed on the night sky above with the stars filling the inky abyss, each sparkling more than the previous, as if trying to catch your attention, your eyes move from one to another, wanting to get a look at them all, wanting to engrave the look of them in your mind and keep it here; but there was just so much — you aren't sure if there even exists a number as big as the number of stars up there.

("do you think we get a star out there after death?"

"...maybe."

"would you try to look for mine when i die?"

"..."

"...sorry."

"...i would.")

with giyuu still looking somewhere in front of him—you can't quite decipher where, maybe he's just spaced out—your hand somewhere a bit lower your chest and his hand laying loosely over yours, you close your eyes and slowly inhale the night air; it smells of pine and momentarily happiness.

a few moments later giyuu's head tangibly shifts, and, having little self-restraint when it comes to curiosity, you open your eyes again—maybe he'd be looking at something different now?

and as your eyelids open, you find him to be staring at no one other than you.

eyes usually cold as a snowstorm and endless as the abyss above you both have now descended to endearment and devotion as they look into yours. they twitch slightly lower and to the side, watching your lips for a few seconds, before coming back upwards to your eyes.

he's so enchanting—close to being as enchanting as the stars he's now blocking your view of. maybe he even looks like one in your mind, or maybe it's just his endless eyes, the colors of which blend into the matching endless night sky. you notice yourself not minding the blocked view if the one doing it is giyuu.

with the main sight now being his eyes instead of the gleaming celestial bodies—you can't exactly complain—you feel like staring into them an eternity more, and then another and another until you've memorized each and every pattern in them. and you're sure that if eyes could talk, both your and his would scream affection.

"you're blocking the view," you say, having no more stars to see right in front of you, them being replaced with giyuu's face.

"you seem to be enjoying it all the same," giyuu declares, unimpressed, despite his eyes narrowing the slightest bit in amusement. you're pretty sure his mouth's corners nearly curve upwards. you would've loved to witness him smile, especially at the moment.

you hum quietly, eyes wandering over his face—how can one attract so much? and it's not just about his beauty; he's everything you've ever needed and didn't know you ever needed in your life. "i never said i wasn't enjoying it."

giyuu, too, can't seem to be able to tear his eyes away from you—starting from your eyes as well, they descend lower to your lips (he's a very patient man), neck—and he regrets both of you being too shy and humble to try and leave hickeys on each other, he would enjoy that sight very much—then your uniform which just suits you so much, and, in the end, your hand, one of which is held by his—when did he go from it simply lying on top of yours to holding it?—and he involuntarily laces your fingers together slowly, eyes following each and every movement. your hands are almost just as his—arms a bit scarred underneath the clothes, skin on the palms calloused from holding your katanas, along with healed nicks and occasional cuts.

humming as well in acknowledgement of your words, his gaze follows the trail back to your face and settle back on your eyes. he has to remind himself to not look into them too long, fearing he'd get too lost in their infinite beauty.

"we could stay like this forever," giyuu suddenly speaks up, and with the quietness of the words said they don't seem to disturb the silence at all.

"we could."

you get what he's trying to say. there was never enough time for both of you since the moment you've joined the demon slayers, and then the hashiras, signing yourself a death warrant when doing so; it's pointless to deny the truth and the inevitable, and you both long learned to embrace it.

but all the sadness and inevitableness can be forgot at times like these, right? even just for the night or for a few hours before the two of you go back to your routine duties.

"but what would you do then?" you continue, being tempted into asking the question with the smallest teasing lilt in your voice, as if prompting him to speak about his feelings about you.

feelings are hard, especially for someone like him—especially for someone with the past and job he has—but slowly, bit-by-bit, step-by-step, you try to get him to understand them, even if you're lost in your own and sometimes can't find a way out of your own feelings. you guess it comes with the job.

guyuu stops to think for, maybe, a bit more than a minute or two, and lets the silence embrace both of you again. again, it's never tense with him (you don't really want to remember the time he told you about sabito, though it still lingers in the back of your mind and comes up in the most unpleasant times), as you two gratefully grab onto the every little bit of serenity and peace you have.

while he thinks, your gaze, once again, roams over his face, with the twinkling stars now serving as a simple background for what—who—you're seeing, being a pleasant compliment to the sight in front of you. moonlight obligingly illuminates a great half of his face, letting you see most details on it, and who would you be if you missed on this opportunity?

nearly just as he's about to start talking, his lips opening and, dear gods above, he can sense your eyes shifting to his moving lips. it's always with you that he feels like a teenager—not really lovey-dovey, but it's a fact that he lets himself be more open to feelings with you.

"i would..." giyuu starts, taking a small break before continuing—to gather his thoughts, knowing you're watching him as intently as you can, and it's not in the least bit uncomfortable as it would be if it wasn't you.

"i would look at you," he says. "for the rest of eternity. i wouldn't want to do anything else besides it."

as he finishes speaking, you slowly but surely feel the tips of your ears becoming a shade of red; thankfully, it's not your face. yet.

"is that so?" you manage to whisper out, taking slow and barely audible breaths to try and calm your fast beating heart. he probably can hear it with how your back lays on his lap, but that doesn't really matter. "wouldn't you get bored?"

"never."

you're sure your face gets a small tint of red.

you, involuntarily, hold your breath after his words, eyes widening a tad bit, and it's only a few seconds later that you quietly exhale the air you didn't know you have been holding in.

the words he says are so simple—but he does have a way with them, and that's what makes you love him more and more with each syllable leaving his lips.

there's moonlight illuminating his—and your—face, and you seem to notice it just now. it shines onto a great half of his face, letting you see even more details on his skin, and if it was illegal to stare for so long, you'd be long behind bars, living your worst ever imaginable life without having something as precious and pretty as giyuu to look at.

his eyes shift. you get the hint just as his gaze moves onto your lips—you've been looking at them so attentively, it'd be a shame if you didn't notice that.

having taken a, supposedly, not so fitting of a position to kiss, you have to sit up using your hands and place them on the grass beneath you to hold yourself up, and your face moves just enough for him to understand. you don't make any rash movements; you're careful but your intentions are evident.

giyuu's face shifts closer, too. it moves forward until he feels like both your and his lips are soon to meet together. one look into each other's eyes is all it takes for his appearance to soften and lean towards you.

your lips touch in a kiss and you feel like you could die right now and there because of how soft it feels, coming from him, usually so sharp and harsh; it feels like your lips are melting together but you don't have it in you to mind—it's been far too long since you two have had any time to yourselves and your small affections and you don't know when you'll have another night like this.

his eyes settle closed the same time as yours do, and as much as you like looking at him, it just helps the atmosphere around you even more. giyuu's lips slowly, gently move against yours and you just happen to think of how tender they are, and that warms your chest more than anything.

it's silent and wordless with giyuu, and you just happen to love it.

[akaakeis]

home. -- sakusa k.

synopsis : sakusa kiyoomi and yn have been dating for some time now, with kiyoomi dedicating time to his volleyball team and yn dedicating time to their education. in their final year of university, however, they need to travel for a semester to fulfill a credit requirement for their degree. finally, they come back home.

wc : 1661 .ᐟ

gn!reader x sakusa kiyoomi (2nd person)

notes//cw : i'm kinda following the american school system for this since i'm not familiar with any other school system!! (like the months that school runs, when semesters end, that type of thing),, this is msby sakusa so it's like... 2019,, reader is a university student,, reader is implied to be living with sakusa (but this isn't explicitly stated),, kinda sad in the beginning,, fluffy ending,, HEAVILY projecting onto yn with any parts describing how she feels oops,, NOT proofread again,, i was inspired to write this when i heard 'coming home' by beabadoobee!!

January 6th, 2019.

you sit on your bed and open your laptop with a sigh, reading through your class schedule for this upcoming semester. this is your final semester, ever, and it's finally starting to sink in as you read through your schedule. to fulfill a requirement for your degree, you'll have to travel this semester to take your classes. the classes were, unfortunately, unavailable at your own university. you knew you would have to at some point, but it's just awful that you'll have to be away for so long. a quiet thump can be heard as you close your laptop and put it to the side.

rustling can be heard outside of the bedroom as sakusa comes in with a package that was, presumably, just delivered to the front door.

"hey, what's wrong?" he asks immediately, eyes scanning over your face with a slight frown. he can tell from your expression that you're stressed about something.

"mm.. nothing, come sit down, omi. i gotta tell you something." you say, your voice soft and slightly sad. he obliges you, putting down the package on the dresser and sitting next to you on the bed. he looks at you attentively.

you take a deep breath and start to explain the situation. "...so, for this semester, i'll be traveling for my classes. i'll be staying a couple hours away."

sakusa's breath hitches for a moment before he lets out a quiet sigh. "that's okay, you'll do amazing. i'm sure of it, yn." he says, his voice resembling something of reassurance, though he seems a bit upset himself.

you offer him a slight smile, gingerly taking his hand into yours. "it'll be okay. i'll be back in may," you say softly, running your thumb over the back of his hand.

he nods slightly, giving you a slight smile back. he gives your hand a quick squeeze. "yeah. when do you leave?"

"in a week," you reply.

who knew that week would go by in the blink of an eye? it had felt like a mere hour.

January 13th, 2019.

the two of you sit in the car, him in the driver's seat and you in the passenger seat. you quietly squeeze his free hand, keeping your eyes on the road. he was driving you to your new dorm.

it was a two hour long car ride, which both of you spent in silence. you were both enjoying each other's presence while you still could.

the car gradually comes to a stop in front of your new dorm. it's a huge building, and there are numerous people outside, hauling things inside. you assume they're all moving in for the semester as well.

"come on, i'll help you bring in your stuff," sakusa says softly, lightly nudging you.

it takes about an hour, but you and sakusa managed to bring in all of your things and set up all the essential things. you're both seated on your dorm's bed now, not wanting the moment end, for him to go back home. you lean against his shoulder, holding onto his hand.

"i'm really gonna miss you," you whisper.

"i'll miss you too," he says back softly, gently running his thumb over the back of your hand. "it'll be okay. we can call and text whenever."

before either of you realize it, it's already 10:00 at night, and sakusa needs to go home. he has practice tomorrow, after all. with that, the night draws to a close, and the bed feels empty. you're homesick already.

January 14th, 2019.

it's your first day back to school, and unfortunately you have a morning class... at 7:00 am. aside from the fact that you suffered while trying to get up early enough to prepare yourself for the day, the class went smoothly.

everything felt like routine throughout the day as you went from class to class, listening to the lectures and taking notes. this continued until you headed back to your dorm, kicking off your shoes and dropping onto your bed. you had to forcibly stop yourself from getting up to go look for kiyoomi, because you knew he wasn't there. oh, how awful it is to be homesick.

the days seemed to drawl on and blur together as you went to day after day of classes. you managed to text sakusa every once in a while, but he always seemed to be a little busy. since he seemed busy, you obviously didn't want to bother him, so you stopped frequently messaging him.

the homesick feeling never went away. you felt as if you would do anything just to be with him. you felt so far away in your dorm.

March 20, 2019.

it took a while, but you finally felt less homesick. today was sakusa's birthday, and you had something planned. you had coordinated a plan with the rest of sakusa's team to get them to have a celebratory dinner in the city, so that you could surprise him and wish him a happy birthday in person.

the day took an agonizingly long time to pass by, but you eventually made it through all of your classes for the day, heading straight home to prepare for the dinner.

you get dressed nicely for the birthday dinner, wearing semi-formal attire and nice shoes. it's a really short walk from your dorm, so you arrive there quickly. to your surprise, however, the entire volleyball team is already there, including kiyoomi. you immediately rush over to him, hugging him from behind.

he's startled by the sudden hug, but realizes it's you, putting his hand on top of yours. 

"happy birthday, omi. i'm so happy that i'm able to celebrate with you." you say softly, just loud enough for him to hear. the entire team, but particularly atsumu, watches smugly as they see sakusa's face soften over you.

dinner passes by in a blur, but then suddenly, one of the waitresses bring out a slice of cake, placing it in front of sakusa. there's a lit candle on top. everyone present at the table sings happy birthday to sakusa, cheering as he blows out the candle. it's clear that he's extremely happy about all the gestures that have been done for him, despite his more stoic demeanor. those who are familiar with him can tell he's happy.

"thank you, yn. i'm so happy to see you in person... i miss you," he says quietly, gently squeezing your hand.

"of course, omi... i wouldn't miss celebrating your birthday for the world. i miss you too," you say back, offering him a soft smile.

with long, drawn out goodbyes from everyone on the team, the night came to a close. the team drove back home, and you went back to your dorm, knocking out. it felt comforting to see kiyoomi again. it had been a while. in about two months, you would finally be able to say, "i'm home."

May 28, 2019.

today was the day. you could finally go back home. you'd be lying if you said you were more thrilled about the fact that you're finally getting your degree than the fact that you're finally able to go home and see kiyoomi. you packed up everything in your dorm as quickly as possible, heading for the train home. 

the ride home seemed to go by faster than usual, passing by in what felt like 20 minutes.

you walk home quickly, eager to see kiyoomi. once you get to the front door, you quietly unlock it. you open the door slowly to prevent it from squeaking, and you leave your luggage outside so that he doesn't hear the sound of it rolling around as you enter the house. as you close the front door, a quiet click is heard, which you silently curse at yourself for.

you can hear the sound of running water in the kitchen, along with the sound of a plastic bag being rustled around. you peek into the kitchen, trying to see what kiyoomi is doing. he's, apparently, cleaning the kitchen. he's taken the plastic bag out of the trash can and replaced it with a new one. the full trash bag sits on the floor, waiting to be taken out. by the kitchen sink, you can see kiyoomi peacefully washing the dishes. you let out a soft sigh, coming up behind him quietly, peeking out from his side to see what he's washing.

"i'm home," you say softly, causing kiyoomi to turn around, startled by the sudden voice behind him. his face immediately softens upon seeing you. he grabs the dish towel, quickly wiping his hands dry. 

he engulfs you in a hug, his arms snaking around your waist to hold you close. "welcome back," he says quietly, burying his face in your hair.

"let me help you," you say, lifting your head to look up at him, loosening the hug. you let go of him, grabbing the bag of trash that had been sitting on the floor. "i'll take this out, and i'll be back to help wash the dishes."

he smiles slightly, nodding as he watched you walk out with the bag of trash in hand. you step foot out of the house, tossing the bag into the trash bin and heading back inside. you head back to the kitchen, lightly nudging him to the side of the sink so that you can help him wash the dishes. 

the two of you clean up the kitchen in silence, just enjoying each other's presence yet again. once all of the night's chores are done, however, the two of you head to bed almost immediately. kiyoomi holds you close to him, keeping his face in your hair and muttering, "i missed you a lot. glad you're home."

you feel your heart sputter at his words, and you smile slightly, bringing up a hand to play with his hair. "me too. good thing i didn't get home late."

notes :

₊ ⊹ we're all gonna collectively ignore the photos i used because i don't have the energy to actually make it look good... thanks !!

₊ ⊹  yeah i have no idea how university works in case that wasn't made painfully clear at the beginning sorry </3

₊ ⊹ just pretend it makes sense i guess, cause i was NOT about to research how to make that part of the fic make sense 😋

₊ ⊹ not proofread as per usual (are we surprised atp)... please lmk if you find an error though !!

₊ ⊹ after not releasing anything for like a week cause of like everything in my life deciding to gang up on me... WE ARE SO BACK 🗣️���️ (lie)

₊ ⊹ i randomly got this idea when i was listening to all the songs on bea's new album... honestly i have ideas that i got from a bunch of the songs so stay tuned!! i'll probably write some more oneshots based off her new songs

₊ ⊹ my motivation peaked and then fell within like an hour but i pulled through to get this done😭

₊ ⊹ any other works can be found on my masterlist! (it's pretty small at the moment since i just started though!!)

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🏷️ : @iiwaijime + @bokukos <3