#Overly Possessive Ghost?

[devilry-revelry]

Heart & Home | Male Ghost x Female Human {Part 2}

Mostly unedited rewrite of a thing I did way back when I was (happily) getting force-fed Red Dead Redemption 2 smut. It's a ghost cowboy.

I'm not sorry.

MDNI

: ̗̀➛

“You’ve been mine since the day you walked into this house, Maggie Whittaker. Now that I have you, I ain’t ever lettin’ you go, y’hear?”

: ̗̀➛

Maggie took a shuddering breath. “I think I should go home.”

“You can stay. Unless you want to go, ‘cause yer scared ‘n’ all.”

She caught the quirk of his lips, a gentle twitch upwards that teased the beginnings of a dimple to his right cheek. 

“I think we both know that scared isn’t the problem.” The contact between them faded and it became difficult to see him again. He became a fleeting shadow out of her periphery, an image that was there but wasn’t. Maggie took a slow breath, noting the chill brought on by his absence. She crossed the room, taking heavy steps to the front door.

Once she got outside she turned to peer back in.

“Goodbye Elias Jameson. It was nice meeting you.”

She closed the door, locked it, and then left. 

Three months later, Maggie Whittaker purchased the cabin. One month after that, she cashed in her vacation time. Armed with an inflatable mattress, a cooler full of food, and a whole lot of cleaning supplies, Maggie returned to the cabin. It was hers now and despite the growing sense of dread, and the distinct feeling that she was biting off far more than she could chew, she was put to ease the moment the cabin came into view. Returning to the cabin felt like returning home, just as it always had.

The day was spent cleaning. While Maggie had another couple of months on her apartment lease she wanted to get the space good and clean so she wouldn’t be adverse to staying the night. If she could avoid going up and down the mountain every day during this phase of cleanup and repair it would be ideal but she wasn’t going to half-ass this. She was going to do this right.

Before starting anything she opened every window she could, and noted any deficiencies she caught as she went. Some of them opened, smooth as butter. Others were practically glued shut. Fresh air wafted through the cabin and Maggie practically melted. This was what she had been dreaming about. Not the cleaning part, or the repairs, but she was one step closer  to having her dream home. 

Old nails that were falling out were either completely removed or hammered back into place. The bedroom floor and the walls were thoroughly scrubbed. Then the bathroom was given a vigorous cleaning. After that, it was the kitchen. When it came time to patch the hole in the floor (the one that had been made during her last sales visit), Maggie’s sails lost their wind. This was what she had been dreading. She didn’t know much of anything about wood work. The cabin needed a fair bit of it, and she knew there were some things that she was going to have to hire contractors for. But the hole in the floor was a hazard she needed to see to before she stepped into it by accident. 

She didn’t have much by way of tools or patching materials and she wouldn’t for at least a day or two, when they’d be delivered. She considered moving her ice chest over the hole. As she idly pondered and tried to plan, she smelled him. Campfire. Woodsmoke. Cigars. Breathing in deep she caught the barest hint of pine, and maybe even leather. Maggie’s mouth watered. 

“I, uh, I bought the place,” she announced to the cabin. Perhaps she should have started there. Perhaps she should have asked the resident ghost for permission to move in. “I hope you don’t mind. If you do, I’ll understand.” It was just her life savings going down the drain. 

“And here I thought you was never comin’ back, Maggie Whittaker.”

Butterflies infested her whole being. Hearing his voice made her giddy. She hadn’t felt anything similar since she was a middle schooler getting asked out for the first time. She caught a glance of his figure just out of view, and when she chased him with her eyes he vanished. 

“You don’t mind, right?”

“Mind that you bought it? Not one bit. Hoped you’d be the one t’ take it, actually.”

And now she was blushing.

She managed to stammer, “Goo-uh—“ she cleared her throat. “Good. I was worried you wouldn’t want me here. I should have asked first.”

The room went quiet but she could still smell him. The aroma was so strong she could practically taste him.

 Before Maggie had committed to purchasing the house she did her best to dissect the reason why she felt so drawn to the place. While she wanted to insist that she purchased the cabin because she felt at home there, or that it fit with her ideal aesthetic, or she liked the stone fireplace, or the spectacular sunrises, or the mountain air, she couldn’t discount the ghost. The ghost that had protected her, the ghost that made her feel safe, and needy, and breathless. 

Surely, she thought, she didn’t buy the cabin because she felt a curious attraction to a ghost.

And yet she had ached to see him all day, had anticipated his arrival the moment she started cleaning and pounding nails. She even felt a little down when he didn’t immediately show up. Hearing that the ghost had wanted her to buy the house left her feeling  hopeful. 

Warmth gathered at her hips, as if someone had come up from behind and grabbed hold of her. Biting the inside of her lip Maggie turned slowly. The warmth dragged across her front and back, big hands smoothing over the contours of her body. And there he was. The ghost of the man who had built the cabin she was so fond of. 

“Knew you belonged here the first time I saw you,” Elias replied. Those dark eyes of his glittered in the most captivating way. “I am worried that yer a little over yer head, though.”

Maggie offered a wry smile, “I hope you get along with the contractors I’m going to have to hire.”

Elias edged a little closer, his hands slipping to her back. “Didn’t realize you were the stubborn sort, Miss Whitaker.”

Maggie’s hands slid up his forearms on their own accord as she replied, “What does that mean?”

“You coulda just asked for help. I’m right here, darlin’.”

They were gathering each other closer, like they were a couple of magnets being drawn together. Maggie’s hands dragged up to his biceps, and rested on his shoulders. Elias’s hands had looped completely around her. Maggie wouldn’t consider herself a prude, but she had rarely let any previous boyfriends get so close during their first dates.

Not that Elias was her boyfriend, and this definitely wasn’t a date. Didn’t stop her from wanting to tuck her head under his chin and just breathe him in though. 

“I didn’t want to just assume that you’d help me. I shouldn’t have even assumed that you would be fine with me buying the place. I should have asked.”

“Sssh,” he crooned. “Wish you woulda told me so I didn’t think I had scared you away, but I wanted it to be you.” he smiled softly, teasing the lone dimple to his cheek. “But you ain’t gotta be stubborn, ya hear me? You need help with something, you can tell me. I’ll do what I can.”

Maggie replied in a feeble voice, “I don’t know how this works. I don’t know what you can and can’t do. I don’t even know where you go when you’re not here

Elias started to withdraw. He took a step back and Maggie immediately missed his warmth. 

“I’ve been watching you all day, girl. I’m always lingerin’ around somewhere but I reckon we’ll have to figure out what my capabilities are together. In the meantime, I think you oughtta get something to eat, and get some rest.”

“I’m fine—“

“You ain’t had nothin’ all day. Don’t lie t’me.” His voice was stern, but not enough to drive her off. The bit of care actually made Maggie smile. “Get somethin’ t’eat, and get some rest.”

She made a show of sighing, “Okay.”

Her hands fell away from him and he shuffled back another couple of steps.

Just before he completely severed contact, he winked and said, “Good girl.”

With more than a little bounce to her step, Maggie did as she was told. She set up her blow up mattress for the night, and dressed it with blankets and pillows. Then she dragged her ice chest to the kitchen area and prepared a quick meal. When she was through with eating she hauled her overnight bag to the room and prepared to relax for the rest of the night. Maggie brushed her teeth and did her evening skin care routine. When it came time to change and get into bed her progress slowed.

Elias said he had been watching her all day. Did that mean that he was in the room with her right now? She glanced about, feeling her body warm. Elias potentially watching her wasn’t the deterrent that she thought it would be. In fact she found herself quite intrigued by the idea. Maggie undressed slowly. Her shoes and socks were tossed aside, and then she shimmied her jeans down her thighs. When she bent forward to gather the bunched up pants to fold them up she could swear she heard a sigh.

A gentle ache blossomed and pulsated between her thighs. 

Next came her shirt and then, finally, her bra. She lingered like that for just a moment, fumbling through her bag to get her clothes. When she eventually tugged on her sleep shirt she was sure her panties were wet with her slick. She turned out the light. 

On hands and knees she crawled up the length of her blow up mattress, then she slipped under the covers. 

“Goodnight,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

The only reply was the gentle teasing scent of camp fire.

Maggie had dreams of him that night. Dreams where he came to her in the middle of the night and worked her to release. When she woke the following morning she felt a little bedraggled, and just a touch bereft. She promptly got out of bed, got dressed and started the day by reopening all of the windows. Elias soon joined her. His presence wasn’t constant but she had caught brief glimpses of him throughout the day, just brief moments where his figure looked just in the corner of her vision. Progress on the house only seemed to appear when she wasn’t watching. If she set her focus on her own tasks when she came up for air something about the cabin would be different.

The hole in the floor was patched. Some of the more crooked cupboards in the kitchen were suddenly hanging straight and closing properly. The splinter-ridden countertops were sanded until immaculate and smooth. By the end of their second day, Maggie was more than pleased with their progress. The busy work was mostly finished. Once she received the delivery from the home improvement store, they could get cracking on the real work. Which she was secretly dreading.

Maggie was a desk person. She did showings of various houses, but the bulk of her work was sitting at a desk and pounding away at a keyboard. The house work, while not substantial in nature, was taxing and left her with various aches and pains in places she didn’t know could ache and pain. 

She did some stretches that night before bed. It was some simple movements that she had learned in her weekend yoga classes that tugged at her muscles just so. Special attention was paid to her legs, and her arms, and even her neck. When she moved on to her back and core stretches her muscles thanked her. A throbbing pain had been building in her lower back and a good stretch was definitely needed. 

Resting on her hands and needs on the floor next to her blowup mattress, Maggie bowed her spine upwards, dropped her head towards the ground, and tucked her pelvis inward. She held the position and breathed for a straight 10-count then moved her body into the inverse of the  position. Maggie’s back arched down, and her head lifted and craned back, her pelvis rolled outward. Another cycle of breathing, and then her head dropped. The final movement started with her head dropping against her back, her back angling downward towards the floor, her pelvis tilting outward–

The sensation of large hands grasped her hips. Something hard bumped against her rear and then there was pressure applied to the cleft of her pussy. It pressed inward against her leggings. 

The way Maggie’s arms gave out was embarrassing. The flanging moan that left her was even more so. She peered behind her but saw nothing, not even the fleeting image of Elias. The pressure increased, and slid forward. When it found her clit Maggie whined. It pressed in a little tighter, and then started making tight circles. Her body presented itself at its own whim. The way she parted her thighs and dropped her chest down into the floor was entirely too eager. Her pulse lept. She could feel it drumming in her sex in heavy beats that made her pussy ache. 

There was a sudden tug at the leggings but they weren’t pulled off. The leggings were pulled up. The material strained against her ass, pressing in between the cheeks. Another tug pulled the material taut against her drooling nethers. The central seam pinned her clit against her pubic bone, and those fingers worked it mercilessly.

Maggie rocked her hips, grinding herself against the hand, against the inseam. The tightness building in her body was delicious, like nothing she had felt. And with every beat of her heart, and every circle worked over her clit, Maggie grew closer to finding orgasm. 

She pressed her face into her arm to hide her embarrassment, feeling as if she should rebuke Elias for taking such liberties but delighting over the fact that he did. She’d been hungry for this. Yearning for it since their first encounter. 

The tension in her body reached its peak, drawing her body terribly tight just before she found release. Her core gave a hard, long, almost painful contraction. The fingers worked a little slower now, easing off the pressure but still coaxing little zips of pleasure as her pussy fluttered with the remnants of her orgasm.

She whined, her body quivering.

“Easy, girl…” came the low voice. 

Boneless, Maggie’s body sagged to the floor. A warm hand dragged over the curve of her ass, and up along her spine.. She had just been dragged to climax by an invisible phantasmal entity. The idea of it made her body warm all over again.

The hand worked its way up her back and into her hair. With a gentle tug her head was angled just so, and Maggie was rewarded with the sensation of a soft kiss.

“Elias?”

“You did so good, sweetheart. You were perfect.”

Another fleeting kiss, and another caress to her back, and he let her be for the rest of the night. 

-

Fixing up the cabin took a couple of months. After Maggie’s initial week off, fixes were allocated to nights and weekends, or to whatever Elias managed while she was away at work. Elias didn’t like it when the contractors came to knock out the big ticket items like the plumbing and electric, but they both agreed they were things to be left to professionals. Whenever the contractors visited, Elias grew notably jealous. Maggie could only imagine that it was because there were tangible, and sometimes good looking men roaming their home. He went out of his way to remind her of his presence on those days. He was quite generous with his attentions. Like she needed it. Maggie grew to be incredibly attached to Elias during their time together. When she wasn’t with him, she would think of him, and when they were together he made it impossible to think of much else.

When she came home from work he was there, quietly working on various things around the home. He would stick around as she cooked dinner, and he talked with her as she ate. When the house was finished and Maggie began to move her things in, and redecorate, Elias made himself scarce. Maggie couldn’t help but feel more than a little lonely. And guilty. She couldn’t help but think that rebuilding the cabin had taken him away and due to its completion he was gone.

She had hoped to make the cabin a space for the two of them, and while she still loved her new home she wanted Elias to be a part of it.

It took all of three days for Maggie’s patience to reach its limits.

Tucked into bed for the evening, fretting over the idea that she killed a dead man, Maggie called into the darkened home, “Elias, I swear to god, if fixing up the house made you move on or whatever,  and you didn’t say anything about it, I’ll kill you — you hear me?!”

The response was immediate, “The hell you on about, girl?”

Maggie’s neck twisted to the side, tracking the voice. While she wouldn’t be able to see him in the dark, and she definitely wouldn’t be able to see him without any physical contact, she sent a killing glare in the direction his voice had come from.

“You heard me,” she seethed. “At a minimum, if you don’t want to be here anymore then you need to be a man and say it. You— you—“ for lack of a better word, “—ghosting me isn’t fair.”

“Well shit darlin’, I regret to inform you—“

Maggie snapped, “You know what I mean.”

Warmth gathered at her throat. She could feel the strong fingers squeezing gently just before she was guided back against the bed. The force didn’t hurt, it wasn’t even enough to cut off her breathing, but it was enough to establish a line of control. 

“Shit, Maggie. I didn’t mean to make you think I was leavin’.”

“Then why—“

“I wanted you to be able to set up the house the way you liked it. I didn’t want you worryin’ about my opinion. It’s our home but yer the one livin’ here.”

Maggie’s cheeks began to burn with embarrassment. The thumb on her neck caressed gently upward along her skin. “You’re not leaving?”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” The bed dipped. Maggie felt as though Elias was looming above her. He dragged a kiss against her jaw, her cheek, her mouth. “You’ve been mine since the day you walked into this house, Maggie Whittaker. Now that I have you, I ain’t ever lettin’ you go, y’hear?”

Her panties were teased down her thighs, and she mewled quietly, “You promise? 

Without so much as a warning, he was inside her. The movement was beautifully fluid, and it left her feeling stretched and filled to capacity. It was their first official joining, and it was paired by Elias’ low voice rasping in her ear as he undulated his hips.

“Ain’t ever letting you go, darlin’. Ever.”

[kingofconundrums]

YOU KNOW WHAT IM NOT DONE WHO TALKED THE OTHER FUCK ASSES AT MARVEL TO LET DANNY ACTUALLY HAVE HIS OWN DESIGN BACK? THEY ARE LETTING HIM BE HIMSELF AGAIN, HES KIND AND TRYS HIS BEST TO HELP. IN THE MINI HES BEING MADE FUN OF AGAIN FOR BEING BIT OF A CRYBABY

[adelheidvonschicksal]

The Love and Deepspace Boys Trying to Get You to Sleep ⋆｡°✩

Tags: Fluff, teasing, needy boys, mild sexual content, gender neutral reader (I had to re-write so please let me know if I messed up.)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Xavier is surprisingly softer than you expected when you first met him on your mission together. He’s an incredibly powerful hunter but possesses a quiet and gentle, almost oblivious, aura when navigating everyday life, like a ghost floating through the space he takes up. It should also be understood that this very nature of his makes him affectionate, so much so, that he won’t unwrap his arms around your waist and stop pressing his head to your shoulder as you sit at the kitchen bar, typing on your laptop.

“Are you planning on staying up later than the stars?” he mumbles.

There’s a gentle yawn against your skin from the sluggish man, highlighting just how long he’s been trying to coax you into going to bed.

“I wanted to finish this report for work.”

“The report will be there tomorrow,” he says. You swat away his hand that reaches for the power button on the laptop causing him to pout. He grumbles. “You should go to bed. Otherwise, I can’t sleep.”

Smiling to yourself, you decide to tease him. “Oh, so you’re really trying to get me to go to bed for your own benefit?”

“Well, you can’t very well expect me to do it by myself anymore.” Xavier nuzzles his head into the slope of your neck, cuddling you. “It’s your responsibility since you ruined my sleeping habits.”

“Ruined?”

“Ramshackled,” he repeats quietly, causing you to giggle. With an airy sigh, he presses his weight into you more. “How do you expect me to sleep when I can’t hold you?”

Defeated, you save your work and close the laptop. You swivel in your chair, enough to meet his eye, and cup a hand to his cheek. It never stops being endearing to you how he cutely closes his eyes and angles his head to snuggle your palm.

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to beg.”

His eyes flutter open, and the smile on his face grows as he wraps his fingers around yours. Carefully, he pulls on your hand to bring it up enough to begin to lace your wrist with affectionate kisses, tracing your pulse.

“I thought you enjoyed my begging.”

“That’s different.”

“It isn’t,” Xavier mutters into your skin, pressing another light kiss.

“It is.”

“So, you're resolute about that position?” he questions “innocently”. There’s something mischievous about the glint in those arctic eyes, which makes your face warm. You find yourself breaking eye contact, or else you’d lose it.

“Yes.”

Xavier chuckles then begins to lead his kisses down your arm. “In that case, care to explain the difference in detail, love?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Sleep.”

“But—”

“Sleep.”

Zayne narrows his eyes at you from his side of the bed. You can’t blame him for being a little annoyed right now but the movie you put on to fall asleep was much better than you expected; and instead of falling asleep, you were more awake than ever at a very late one in the morning.

“I’m almost done with the movie,” you tell him, hoping he’ll cut you a little slack this one time.

“Everyone dies at the end of their own stupidity,” he bluntly states and grabs the remote. The television turns off with an overly loud click, and you pout. “Now, sleep.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m fine with that title if it gets you to rest,” he explains with a smooth yawn. “Poor sleep habits lead to bad decision-making later. You’re more likely to develop high blood pressure, and with your heart in particular—”

“I get it. I get it,” you say, wanting to be spared the lecture. Zayne is a good person and a better doctor, but you wish he didn’t worry about you so much just because you might have a little big heart problem. Sighing, you squiggle onto your back and pull the sheets up to your collar, kicking them a little childishly in the process (totally not to let him know that you were not pleased with his spoiling). “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“Very.”

Zayne turns over onto his side, away from you, and you frown at the loneliness. Softly, you poke him in the back, once, then twice then a third time before you finally get a hum in response.

“Am I really not getting a good night kiss?”

“Do you need one to sleep?” he asks, his voice deeper from the lack of sleep, urging you to convince him to kiss you even more.

“Duh,” you explain. Slowly, he turns back over to look at you, propping himself up on one arm with a look that says “Is that so” as you continue to ramble. It makes you a little flustered when he watches you so intently. He’s always had this silent dominance that makes you obedient, but you could get what you want from him just as easily with the exact opposite strategy. Cutely, you puff your bottom lip out at him. “There has to be some health benefit to it. Kissing makes people all happy. Happy is good, right?”

It takes a second for him to take in what you say, those smokey eyes closing in on you with thought before he climbs over you. He places both hands at your sides and quickly boxes in your upper thighs with his knees.

“You’re thinking of dopamine,” he says.

“Huh?”

“That makes you “all happy”,” he explains and presses a deep kiss to your lips, leaving you thoughtless and breathless all at once. He moves to your jaw, and you begin to squirm from the pressure of his impassioned lips.

“And Serotonin.”

Another kiss, lower.

“Oxytocin.”

He’s at your shoulder when he starts to nip your skin, and one of his hands moves to ski up the back of your thigh.

“Reduced cortisol.”

Flustered, you grip his arms.

“Zayne, stop, it tickles,” you whine, but it’s the last thing you actually want as he readjusts his position and hovers above you.

His usually neat hair is messier and his breathing a little heavier judging by how his chest laboriously rises and falls. Groaning, you bite your bottom lip as he knowingly leans in and whispers,

“You need it to help you sleep, isn’t that what you said?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Why don’t you just say you don’t love me anymore?”

You look up from your phone screen at the sudden accusation. You’re resting on the couch, your back propped up by the armrest and legs splayed out on the other cushion while Rafayel looks down at you with crossed arms and a less-than-pleased scowl on his face. You’re entirely confused as to what you could’ve done to make him think something like that.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been playing video games for what—the last two hours?” he says, uncrossing his arms to grab your phone. It’s too late to warn him as he glances at the screen, clicking a few times. “What are you playing anyway? An…otome? Sheesh, go ahead and say you want me gone. Come on, tell me you actually hate me.”

Holding in your smile, you shake your head and affectionately roll your eyes. It takes an enormous amount of effort to not laugh as he continues to rant. “So, it’s one of those things. I thought I was actually in trouble.”

And by those things, you mean his dramatics.

“Hush, my complaints are perfectly legitimate,” he demands as he pushes your legs aside and sits on the couch. Leaning over, he flashes the screen at you to show the evidence he has that you’re completely unfair, unfaithful, and downright mean. “What’s this game giving you that I’m not? Are my dashing good looks and even better personality not enough? Is that it?”

Gently, you take the phone from his hand and set it down on the end table. “You’re plenty, perfect even.”

He scoffs and refuses to look at you. “Apparently not. Don’t you ever think about anyone else? What if I want to cuddle with you one day but you’re too busy to notice because you’re playing silly games?”

Ah, there it is. His real want. You never know why he can never just come out and say it.

“Rafayel, do you want me to come to bed and cuddle with you?”

“Want is a strong word,” he remarks but you can see his resolve (can you call it that when he planned to give in all along?) crumbling as he slowly turns back to meet your gaze, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Not that you deserve it or care.”

Humming, you sit up, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and pull him down onto you. Lovingly, you snuggle him, stopping to only take in how red his neck and ears start to get when you squeeze him and start to stroke through his hair. You’re not sure if Lumerians can blow happy bubbles like he claims, but he definitely hums and relaxes his entire body weight to lay on top of you like he wants to sink into your skin.

Teasingly, you coo at him. “You’re so needy.”

“I’d rather say you humans aren’t needy enough,” he fires back as he wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the corner of your lips. “Ah, the sweet taste of victory.”

Giving out a gentle and short laugh, you lightly tap his back. “Go to sleep.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[stjohnstarling]

I’m reading some Victorian trash and have found what might be my all time favourite overly-elaborate novel frame story - So we open on a man who's about to move to a new apartment. His friends throw him a party, and at that party they decide to have a seance even though none of them believe in ghosts. Surprise! Ghosts are real. even though this novel is NOT about ghosts (it's about mad science.) Soon the ghost gets tired of table turning and demands a typewriter, and there’s a bunch of fucking around finding the ghost the right kind of typewriter (the ghost insists it has to be some specific obscure brand, and no, this has no bearing whatsoever on the story.) It takes ages. Finally, the ghost possesses one of the guys in order to use the typewriter and it turns out the thing the ghost writes is the entire rest of the novel. 

[multifandomfanatic02]

"You Don't Own Me."

pairing : Alastor x overlord!reader

summary : A new overlord has came to play in Hell, you. Alastor took notice in how many souls you've accrued in such a short time. He has to let you know where you stood in the overlord hierarchy, however things don't go the way he originally planned.

warnings : slight blood play ig? Idk. Author trying to edge the reader :)) not proofread

word count : 900

You hadn't been in Hell for long but it felt as if you belonged. It didn't take long before you started catching the hearts of the sinners. A lot happily giving up their souls to simply breathe the same sulfuric air as you. The way you used these souls was unique. You weren't mean or evil in anyway shape or form. In fact, you were often seen as an inspiration.

The overlords in Pentagram City were a different story. None of them liked the way you shot up the hierarchy without even trying. Instilling fear was what got them where they were at and they weren't going to give up their seat to a goody-two-shoes like you. Your methods interested one overlord in particular, Alastor. Despite literally being stuck in the past, he was quite the open-minded demon.

He didn't know whether or not to applaud you or challenge you. Your talent would be useful. He wanted you for himself. And for years he fought to claim your soul and make a deal. And not once out of the hundreds of proposals did he convince you it was a good idea. The two of you slowly started to develop a strange relationship. Nothing romantic but there was definitely tension. While he didn't own your soul, you were often in each other's company.

It was like mutualistic relationship. He staved off the overly pushy overlords constantly offering you a job; jobs that would obviously make you uncomfortable. In turn, you offered your assistance in a lot of his business. It came with pros and cons like any other agreement. He was extremely possessive of you. You were treated like precious property. You had enough. There was no reason for this behavior. Typically it didn't bother you, but something snapped.

"Alastor. You do not own my soul. I'm not property that you can toy with. I should be allowed to go wherever I please." You crossed your arms in frustration hearing him explain why he didn't want you in the Vees territory.

"Darling, you know I hold you with upmost respect. It's got nothing to do with you being property. I understand you are immune to Vox's hypnosis spell. It's not him I'm worried about. My worry is of Vox's plaything, Valentino." He gripped your wrist, leaning ever so slightly to place a kiss on your knuckles. "Understand that you are a sight to behold in the entirety of Hell. Valentino, is not honorable in his job as I, my dear. Without the proper protection, you might as well be an easy target." His breath ghosted your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

It's like he forgot who you were, what you were capable of. It was time to show him how that talent of yours has affected him over time. And trust when you say, it did.

"Oh Alastor, I think you forget as to how I became an overlord in the first place. The feminine charm that you oh so fear backfiring on me is why you have been by my side after all these years." You wrapped your fingers around his bow tie, pulling him down to your level. An enchanting smile creeping up on your face as Alastor's expression glitched out from the bold action. The other hand running through his hair making him let out a soft purr. His eyes focused on yours trying to determine your next move before you could decide.

To his surprise, you gently pressed your lips against his. His head was dizzy with confusion and guilty enjoyment. Your lips trailed down his neck, biting down a bit. Enough for his blood to trickle down. Your hands were now trading between playing with his hair and drawing small circles on the back of his neck. Your lips returned to his, smearing the blood from your tongue as if it were a beautiful crimson lipstick. The poor guy was so touch starved, he gave in to the sudden intrusion of affection. He couldn't do anything but allow you to press his buttons.

Your tongue ran over your lips, swallowing whatever blood was left on them. You took a step back to view the obvious mess you've made. Alastor's eyes were dazed as if he was in another world. His face beet red nearly matching the color of his suit. It was such an unusual sight to see on him. And you managed to do it.

"My my, Alastor, you look like you would be willing to sell me your soul just readingthe look on your face." You held your hand to your lips to cover the laugh attempting to escape. "How the tables have turned, dear." A joke of course, he would never actua-

"Yes." His ears dropped to the back of his head, still standing at your level. No sign of humor on his face.

"I'm sorry, what?" You blinked dumbfounded, mouth agape.

"I will give you my soul, but only if I'm the only one to experience that from you." Your face flushed from his proposal. Alastor had actually submitted to you because of a single kiss? But it wasn't JUST a kiss to him. It forced out desires he had been holding in for a long time. Now more than ever was he determined to have you be his. It didn't matter as to how anymore.

"You've got yourself deal, Al."

a/n: I know this one is short, it was more of an experiment because of a dream that I had. However if you like this concept, I'd be more than happy to build upon it in the future.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

141 + König Jealousy Headcannons

Based on a request from anon- I suck and somehow posted my drafted one yet again☹️

Warnings: sexual references, mild angst

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon Ghost Riley-

When He Gets Jealous -

While Simon knows he is an attractive man, he still thinks that you can do much better than him

That being said, when you're around your close friends, and seem genuinely happy by their presence, Simon can't help the pit that forms in his stomach

He will get quiet and distant whenever he feels jealous. It's not a common emotion for him, and he doesn't know how to handle it

May honestly go to Johnny for advice about it

It'll take him a while to open up to you at first about his jealousy.

When he does finally come to terms with his jealousy....SCARY...DOG...PRIVELAGE

When You Get Jealous -

Let's be honest, this man is beautiful, so he constantly will have men and women vying for his attention

Simon isn't one for small talk with strangers though, so he often brushes them off politely, much to your amusement

That's not to say however, that you don't still get jealous when a fairly attractive person goes and chats him up

When he notices you get jealous, he'll make it a point to introduce you to the person who's flirting with him

Simon's not the overly affectionate type, but he would certainly make an exception if you were upset enough. He wants you to know he's yours until the end of time.

Doesn't even complain when you jump him the minute you guys get home

König-

When He Gets Jealous -

Like Simon, König isn't very vocal about his jealousy, and he will get fairly quiet

He's still fairly insecure with himself, so when he sees someone he feels is more attractive than he is, he can't help but feel self-conscious

He will subconsciously go above and beyond for you- pulling out your chair, bringing you flowers, opening the car door for you- more than he already does

He doesn't fully understand why you are with him, but he will do whatever he can to keep you

Please reassure this poor man. He loves you so much and doesn't want to lose you

When You Get Jealous -

Poor baby doesn't ever intentionally make you jealous

He tries to be nice to any person who approaches him, and it indirectly makes you jealous

He also doesn't realize when people are flirting with him, he always just thinks they're being nice

Literally will feel SO bad if you're jealous, and will apologize profusely for making you feel bad

Gets adorably flustered if you mark him up. Doesn't know what to do with himself

Say the word, and he will RAVISH you in bed to make you feel better

John Price-

When He Gets Jealous-

This man SCREAMS possessive (not in a toxic way). You are his and his alone

Will stare daggers at anyone who stares at you too long. He will make it known you're his.

Is definitely the type to waltz up to the person you're chatting with, and interrupt the two of you to introduce himself

If the person gets handsy with you? God help that person. Price would kill for you.

9/10 though, the minute his gruff, demanding voice comes out, it scares any possible suitor away from you

Will absolutely take you home and make SURE you know who you belong to ;)

When You Get Jealous-

When you get jealous, John gets pretty cocky about it

Depending on his mood, he may or may not feed into the flirting (just to see you get riled up)

Likes when you come over and make it known he's yours. He finds it cute when you get all fired up

Also finds it cute if you get all pouty about it, he will tease you quite a bit about it

Certainly won't complain if you mark him up once you get home. He'll wear those hickeys with pride

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

When He Gets Jealous-

Kyle doesn't really get jealous, and he hates the feeling of when he is. He never wants you to feel like he doesn't trust you

He may get a bit defensive if a man or woman is trying to shoot their shot with you, but he's confident enough in you and your relationship that he doesn't worry

If he does happen to get jealous, he will definitely get clingy. He'll come up and wrap his arm around you, or press a kiss to your cheek, making your relationship very apparent to the person who's talking to you

When You Get Jealous-

Kyle is very aware if he's being flirted with, or if someone's making a pass at him, and he's always quick to shut it down

Will feel really bad if you do get jealous, and will cuddle you for hours when you get home

He's the type to constantly reassure you of his affections for you. He never wants you to feel like he'd want anyone else but you

He would hesitantly admit that he gets slightly turned on by your jealousy

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

When He Gets Jealous-

Johnny is fairly confident in his good looks, and he trusts you completely, so he doesn't often get jealous

When he does get jealous, it's oftentimes because he's drunk, and you'll honestly have to hold him back so he doesn't hurt someone (or himself)

Will absolutely make a scene. He will make the entire vicinity of wherever you are aware that you're his partner

If he gets jealous when he's not drunk, he trusts you enough to let you handle it on your own, but will 100% step in like the macho man he is to get the person away from you

May or may not cover you head to toe with hickies...the worst has to know you're his

When You Get Jealous-

Johnny finds it hilarious when you get jealous, and will ABSOLUTELY tease you about it

If the two of you get drunk enough, you both like to see who can make the other get the most jealous

When either of you get jealous, it usually ends up resulting in hours between the sheets (not that either of you would complain)

If you get upset about it, though, he'll feel horrible and will smother you with affection once you get home

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[empresskylo]

i need price to get genuinely mad at seeing you act all buddy-buddy with some of the other guys. like, price is definitely not an insecure man, and he isn't usually one to get overly possessive, but seeing you tease and joke with the other men, seeing how much they all love you, it's starting to get to him a little bit.

watching as soap maybe gets a little too comfortable with his hands, or gaz whispering stupid snide comments in your ear, or ghost offering to help train you when you're struggling with a new technique. little by little, it's pissing price off. but it was his idea to keep your relationship a secret, so he's trying really hard not to get too possessive.

but he finally breaks when he sees one of the men checking you out and you just playfully roll your eyes at him instead of shutting him down. price drags you to his office and you don't think much of it. "what can I do for you, captain?" you ask in a coy tone as he shuts the door. but then you see the fire in his eyes and the teasing dies on your lips. he closes the distance between the two of you, kissing you roughly, pinning you against the wall. he ravishes you like he's punishing you. eventually, he takes you over his desk.

you're so surprised at price's hunger for you because so far, he has wanted to be super careful about not getting caught, and that meant not showing physical affection when on base. but now, he just wants to assert his dominance and claim over you. "tell me you're mine." "where is this coming from?" a rough slap on your ass. "tell. me. you're. mine." he can't help it. and as much as he knows the two of you should keep it down, he almost hopes the men overhear so they know you're his. and his only.

cod masterlist

[7ndipity]

Bts as Doms

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: Headcanons about how the members would be as Doms

Warnings: +18 mdni, smut. Mentions of bondage, oral(f. and m. receiving), degradation, spanking, choking, free use, edging, orgasm denial, one daddy joke(and this is the only time you will ever see it on this blog) not proofread

A/N: Thanks to @a-gayish-unicorn for requesting this! This list is a bit of a mess, but I didn’t want to leave you guys hanging all week without anything. As always, If y’all have any additional thoughts, feel free to add them in the notes!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin:

He’s mainly a soft dom, but he also gives Brat Enabler vibes. Like, he kinda loves when you sass him and act up in the same ways that he does when you’re in charge so that he can punish you.

Loves when you’re good for him tho and let him use you however he wants, holding your hair as he guides your mouth up and down his length, cooing at you whenever you gag around him.

Teases you constantly, making you tell him exactly what it is you want from him before he’ll do anything, letting his hands just ghost over your body and making it increasingly difficult for you to think.

Big fan of restraints and edging, pinning your hands over your head while he pushes into you, slowing his hips just before you both cum. “You can take it for a little longer, right Sweetie?”

Somehow still manages to make everything feel intimate and romantic. Like, he could be absolutely railing you from behind, but he’s whispering the sweetest things in your ear as he is doing so, telling you how good you’re doing for him and how much he loves you.

Tends to only be rough or mark you up when he’s feeling particularly needy or possessive, wanting to make sure that people know you’re taken.

Yoongi:

I’ve said it before, but he gives soft pleasure dom vibes. Like, he might get a little rough with you sometimes, but he really doesn’t have it in him to be overly strict or harsh with you.

Has certain petnames that he only uses for you when he’s in these moods. “Kitten, can you come here please?”

Drives him crazy to see you spread out or on your knees for him, so pliant and waiting with that desperate look in your eyes.

Similar to when he’s subbing, he’s not too crazy about degradation, but he really loves to tease you, always mixing in some sweet words so it doesn't sting too much, but still makes you blush and flustered, calling you his needy little baby while you ride his thigh.

Absolutely loves overstimulating you. Man will eat you out for hours till you’re in tears and writhing in his hold, begging for a break.

Super soft aftercare is always a must with him, no matter what kind of scene you just played out. He really enjoys the quiet intimacy of cleaning up and looking after you while you come back down.

Hobi:

Hobi is a hard, but very nurturing dom. Like, he’s super strict and not afraid to be rough with you, but everything he does is accompanied by soft guidance and reassurances in a low voice that makes your mind go a little hazy. “You gonna let me take care of you, Sweetheart?”

Rigger for sure, he loves shibari and thinks you look so pretty tied up in different styles. Would definitely take pictures of you like that if you’re comfortable with it.

Almost every time he doms ends with you face down, ass up, with one of his hands wound into your hair so he can pull you up to hear your moans while he pounds into you.

He’s also a fan of spanking for sure, be it on your ass, your thighs, etc. He has a slight sadism kink that peaks through now and then, but he never takes it very far.

Partially because of that tho, he tends to be extra sweet during aftercare, needing to balance out any harshness or punishments by being as close and soft with you as possible to help ground both of you afterwards.

He gives Sugar Daddy vibes, tbh. He loves spoiling you and buying you pretty things like jewelry or lingerie to wear for him. Also really into non-sexual shows of domination, like resting a hand on your back when you’re out together, it makes him feel like your protector.

Namjoon:

Daddy-Sorry what?

But fr tho, although he gives hard dom vibes, I think he actually leans more to the soft side, bordering on pleasure dom energy. He really gets off on your reactions and being the one to take care of you.

Obviously has a thing for dirty talk, as well as a slight humiliation kink. He loves making you tell him exactly what you want/need from him, because 1. Communication is super important and sexy, and 2. He knows it embarrasses you a bit and helps push you further into subspace.

Very big fan of bondage and sensory deprivation. He loves how sensitive and reactive it makes you, the tiniest touches making you twitch and wine.

Big fan of manhandling you into whatever position he wants, his favorites being mating press or having you ride him until he gets impatient and starts thrusting up into you.

Loves edging and orgasm denial, seeing how close he can get you to the edge every time before you finally fall apart. “Hold it. Don’t you dare fucking cum yet.”

Jimin:

Surprisingly stern dom with slight Brat Tamer energy. Like, don’t let the angel eyes fool you, when he gives you an order, he expects you to follow it or face the consequences,

Biggest fucking tease and the teensiest bit of a sadist, he will edge and overstimulate you within a inch of sanity, cooing sickly sweet little remarks in your ear. “Poor baby, can't even handle a couple rounds? We’ll just have to build up your stamina, won’t we?”

As harsh as he might be with teasing and punishments, he’s equally as generous with rewards when you’re good for him.

Big fan of guided masturbation, having you spread all pretty for him as he tells you exactly how to touch yourself or him.

Definitely likes experimenting with different themes and toys/tools. The type that would have you wear vibrating panties when you go out together so that he can tease you by turning them on randomly and watch you squirm.

Super soft with aftercare tho, handling you with the gentlest touches and sweet words. He always wants to make sure you know just how much he loves and cares for you after every session, holding you til you fall asleep.

Taehyung:

Super soft dom, he absolutely loves getting to baby you, kissing and touching you all over until you're a pile of mush in his arms. “Can I make you feel good, Baby? Please?”

He’s very much an aestheticist, he loves roleplay and setting the scene, as well as buying pretty little outfits for you to wear for him.

Praises you constantly, telling you how good you feel, how well you’re doing for him, how much he loves getting to see you like this, etc.

Definitely into taking photos and filming the two of you. Probably has a whole photo album of pictures, ranging from blurry polaroids to more professional shots he took with his film camera or phone.

Torturous levels of teasing. He will finger you for hours, bringing you to the very edge before stopping, kissing you as you cry in frustration.

Really loves the idea of free use, gifting you a special necklace or bracelet for you to wear as a sign to him that he can do whatever he wants with you. The idea of you always being willing to take him makes his ego(and other things) swell with pride.

Jungkook:

He has his softer moments, but I think when he doms, he tends to lean more towards hard dom. He really loves being in control and going all out on you.

Big fan of breathplay. He loves the way it makes you shake and clench around him, tattooed hand snaking up to hold your neck and squeezing just enough to make your eyes roll back in your head.

He fucking loves to overstimulate you, making you keep count of how many times you’ve cum before he’s even inside you.

When he’s in a teasing mood tho, he’s so fucking mean, denying and ruining you orgasms, laughing when you get frustrated. “I’m sorry baby, were you gonna cum?”

Loves leaving marks all over on you, be it hickeys/bitemarks, handprints, etc. His favorite tho is probably cumming inside you, watching it leak out before pushing it back in with his fingers(feel like he has an untapped breeding kink, but-)

Also really loves looking after you in non-sexual ways, be it paying for your meal or just helping you get something off a shelf that’s too high for you. It makes him feel needed.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[obsessivelullabies]

yandere call of duty men — would they kill for you?

— characters included : kyle 'gaz' garrick, john price, simon 'ghost' riley, johnny 'soap' mactavish, phillip graves.

— warnings : murder, yandere behavior, manipulation, toxic relationships, mention of sex (soap's). gender neutral reader, isolating reader.

kyle 'gaz' garrick.

short answer; no. kyle is a rational man. he wouldn't want to terrify you. he wouldn't want to make you hate him by taking someone away from you. he doesn't want you to see him as a monster. he wants to keep his angel happy.

manipulation is his tactic. he'll drop subtle hints saying stuff such as 'i don't like how ___ does this' or 'i hate how they treat you'. he'd slowly distance you from people he didn't trust. he'll let you have a few people, your family and friends are fine, but he makes sure he's the most important person in your life.

kyle just wants to take care of you! can you blame him? he knows that he's the best person for you. just trust him.

john price.

john would only kill someone for you if they were harming you in some way. he knows the mess and the chaos that comes with such an act, yet if he believes his love would be better with said person gone, he'll do it. just for you.

he would make sure you never found out. he knows that's for the better. similar to kyle, he doesn't want you to think less of him. for john, it's more about the hassle of how you'd react.

honestly, he just wants a calm life where he can take care of you. you're his sweet pet. john won't let anyone ruin you.

simon 'ghost' riley.

simon is overly protective. insanely overprotective. he constantly worries about you. to protect you, he vows he'd do anything. if that vow involves such a drastic action, he'll do it. no regrets, no second thoughts.

simon isn't exactly trying to hide it from you. if it comes up in conversation, he'd probably have the most monotone reaction, "oh. i killed him." to the point you think he's joking.

he's terrified to lose you. terrified someone would hurt you. he'd rather set the world on fire than know something terrible happened to you. you were his life.

johhny 'soap' mactavish.

johhny devoted his entire life to you. his motive is jealousy. if he feels like someone is becoming your new favorite person, he'd have to rightfully take that spot back.

johnny would proudly show off what he did. he would fuck you over their dead body if you let him, just to show his ownership over you. how he was all you needed. he was the only man who could please you.

he's not insecure about someone else taking you, johnny is arrogant. he knows he's the best thing to ever happen to you. he's scared someone will manipulate you into leaving him.

phillip graves.

graves wouldn't go that far. in his perspective, you're like a dumb little bunny. he isolates you. he treats you as his sweetheart, making sure you know he's the perfect one to care for you.

all he has to do in his mind is to be firm. firmly tell you that he needs you by his side. he'll lower your self-esteem. make you lonely. make you dependent him.

graves in possessive and slightly insecure. he wants to own you. he wants your mind on him 100% of the time. you're his precious bunny.

masterlist. | requests are open! |

[punkshort]

Can You Remember Who You Were?

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader

Summary: When you struggle to stop obsessing about the handsome stranger you met at a coffee shop who ghosted you after one date, fate eventually forces you back together.

Warnings: language, possessive behavior, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f!receiving), omegaverse dynamics, alcohol consumption, minor physical altercation

WC: 9.1K

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N: For @burntheedges's Roll a Trope challenge I got reincarnation. I also mixed in some a/b/o stuff because I've always wanted to give it a try. Go easy on me, I'm nervous about this one - hope you enjoy. And thank you to @txtattoostark for holding my hand.

When you first met, it was happenstance. An awkward run-in at your favorite coffee shop where he thought your coffee was his until he read your name written on the cup aloud and had the grace to look bashful when he handed it over. A moment later, his own order was ready and you caught the name Dave scrawled on the side. He smiled and raised his cup to you before taking a sip and wishing you a good day before disappearing out onto the busy street.

It was a simple interaction. Nothing terribly special. But you couldn't stop thinking about him the rest of the day.

Dave, Dave, Dave.

Dave, with the soft, gentle brown eyes. Dave, with the chiseled, clean shaven jaw and strong, angular nose. Dave, with the broad shoulders that strained underneath his blue button-down shirt. Dave, with the bare ring finger that still had a visible, yet faded, tan line.

Something about him stuck with you. You felt drawn to him. Connected, somehow, yet you didn't even know him.

After the weekend passed, you managed to clear him from your mind, if only because you stayed as busy as possible. You cleaned your apartment top to bottom. You went to a concert for a band you didn't even like with your friends. You even called your parents and suffered through another phone call where you heard about your brother and sister's lives, how their respective children were, how your brother got a promotion and your sister was thinking of having a third baby. The unspoken question hung heavy in the air, your parents already knowing the answer and predicting your negative reaction by now, so it remained unsaid. But it still stung to be compared to your siblings in that way. Your parents had a skewed notion that maybe it would encourage you to try a little harder if they kept pointing out your brother's success and your sister's natural instinct for motherhood, but it only made you draw into yourself tighter.

Once it was Monday again, you dragged yourself to work. You were so tired from your overly busy weekend that you didn't even think about Dave when you entered the coffee shop. You stood in line, zoning out and in desperate need of caffeine when the door swung open and shut behind you and the sound of dress shoes tapping on the hardwood floors neared.

"Promise not to steal your coffee again."

You swiveled around, eyes wide and heart rattling in your chest when you fixed your gaze on none other than Dave. And much to your dismay, he looked even better than you remembered.

"Oh," you squeaked, subconsciously fixing your hair and glancing around to buy yourself a moment to recover. "Hi again. Two days in a row, what are the odds?" you chuckled dryly, hoping you didn't sound as stupid as you felt. Dave shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled down at you.

"Could've been four but I guess you don't come here on the weekends."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you struggled to respond. Dave took that to mean he caused you offense and quickly rectified it, not wanting to sound like a stalker.

"I'm just kidding."

You laughed and rubbed the scar on the back of your neck, your head spinning. Was he just kidding? Did he come here over the weekend? And if he did, was he hoping to run into you?

"I work around the corner," you explained, telling him the company you worked for. Your mother would have scolded you for telling a stranger where you worked, especially one who might have just admitted to coming to the coffee shop in the hopes of running into you, but you knew it was safe. You didn't know how you knew, you just knew.

Dave nodded and was about to speak when the barista ushered you forward so you could place your order. Before you had a chance to pull out your wallet, Dave leaned over you to tell the barista you were together and added his order before handing over his card.

You couldn't stop the shudder that went down your spine when you heard him speak so close to you, the vibrations of his voice sending a current of electricity through you. At this distance, you could practically smell him, too, and it wasn't just his cologne. It was something else that you couldn't identify but had you weak in the knees.

To be polite, you turned to deny his offer, but he spoke first. And when he did, telling you not to argue and he was happy to do it, his voice deepened and the timber alone caused your body to weaken and your eyes cast down obediently.

"Do you work around here, too?" you asked once you got your coffees and you thanked him for the third time.

"No, I don't."

He walked towards the door and held it open for you, a fourth thank you slipping from your lips. You got the feeling he liked hearing you so thankful and sweet. He smiled every time you said it.

"What brings you out this way, then? Do you live nearby? I don't think I've seen you here before."

Dave walked you to the corner where a shiny, black BMW sat parked.

"Let's just say there's something about the atmosphere I like at this place."

Your face flushed and you took a sip from your coffee, burning your tongue in the process, while you tried to think of something to say. Then you heard the bells from a nearby church and you were stricken with panic.

"Oh, shit! It's already eight?" you asked, yanking your phone out to check the time. You were already late and you still had a ten minute walk ahead of you.

"Come on, get in," Dave said, holding open the passenger side door. "I'll drop you off. You said it's just down the street?"

You contemplated his offer for about three seconds before nodding and jumping into his car. In only took him about two minutes to drop you off in front of your building but you couldn't stop thanking him the entire way, something that continued to delight him.

The rest of the week followed the same pattern. You showed up at your usual time and mysteriously, Dave would appear within a few minutes. He would insist on buying your coffee and on nice days, he would walk you to work. If it was rainy or windy, he would drive you.

By Friday he finally asked for your number and by Saturday you were getting ready for your first date.

Shannon was your age but she always seemed to be so much wiser and grounded. She had a very different view on life, but she was sweet and fun and you got along the moment you met. While you were used to going out to bars on a Friday night, Shannon preferred to stay in and read about horoscopes, take stock of her essential oils, do some light yoga, or scour eBay for rare crystals. You thought she was a hippie, she preferred spiritually inclined.

Regardless of your differences, she still was a wonderful person and was always there for you. Whether you were going through a bad breakup or upset about something your mom said, she would always be there to listen, rub your back, and kindly suggest a way to unblock your chakra.

You had a handful of other friends who would gladly come over and drink wine while you tried on outfits and help with your makeup, but that wasn't what you needed. You had something else entirely on your mind and you couldn't think of anyone else who might be able to help besides Shannon.

"I've been having dreams."

Shannon raised an eyebrow so far up, it got lost under her curly blonde bangs and thick rimmed glasses.

"What sort of dreams?"

You sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed, your dress partially zipped. "About Dave. And me. And it's just... strange."

Shannon shifted a bit on your mattress, her clunky jade bracelets knocking together in the process. "Go on."

"It feels like a reoccurring dream, but it's not exactly the same. The feeling is the same, though."

"I see," she said thoughtfully. "And what are you doing in these dreams?"

Your face warmed up and you stared at the floor when you said, "Well, we're having sex. But it's not just sex. It's different. Like," you waved your hands in the air as you struggled to come up with an explanation. "I know this will sound crazy, but it feels like in my dreams, we have more of a connection. Like, a purpose or something? And in my dreams it feels so much more intense compared to other guys I've slept with."

"How so?"

You had to give her credit. Shannon was too kind to ever tease you.

"Intense like... if we don't fuck, I'll go certifiably insane."

"Oh," she said, nodding her head, completely unphased. "Interesting. It kind of sounds like something I've read about once before. Have you ever heard of -"

Your doorbell buzzed and you leapt off the bed. "Oh, my god! Zip me up! He's here!"

When you flung your front door open, Dave spun around with a smile, one which widened when his eyes drifted appreciatively up and down your frame.

"Hey," you said breathlessly, feeling that magnetic pull low in your belly again just at the mere sight of him.

"You look beautiful," he told you, and just as he was about to lean in and kiss your cheek, he spotted Shannon emerge from your bedroom behind you with a little wave.

"Oh, this is my friend, she was helping me get ready," you said, turning to introduce them while you grabbed a leather jacket and your purse.

"Have a great time, I'll lock up when I leave."

You both thanked her before heading outside towards Dave's car. His arm naturally found its place protectively around your waist and you practically glowed from his touch.

Dave picked a restaurant that you'd never heard of and when you walked inside, you quickly figured out why. It was easily the fanciest place you had ever eaten and if it wasn't for his reassuring touch or warm smile, you would have felt out of place. But once you sat down, the rest of the room melted away and it was just the two of you in your own little world. The entire time you both were leaning across the table, bodies pulling closer and closer on their own accord as you absorbed every little detail about each other. You learned Dave used to be in the military and now works as an operative in the CIA, something that should have intimidated you but it just made him more attractive. He was a protector, he knew how to handle himself and he was smart, qualities which turned you on and had you yearning for more.

When he admitted to being recently divorced, the hairs on your arm stood up and jealousy bloomed hot in your chest. The sudden idea of him with another partner unlocked something inside you that screamed mine, mine, mine.

By all accounts, your first date was perfect. There was never any lack of topics for conversation, you always felt perfectly at ease and safe, and it went by way too fast even though you were the last table to leave the restaurant.

But when he dropped you off and walked you to your door, something changed from that point forward. He kissed you, gently and sweetly at first, but when your lips brushed together for the very first time it set something on fire inside you that you couldn't ignore. You had no idea how it happened, but the next thing you knew he was pinning you up against your door, your wrists captured in each of his massive hands and held next to your head while his tongue licked aggressively into your mouth.

Then you released a little whimper, a little cry against his mouth and it nearly brought him to his knees. The needy sound reverberated through his entire being and had him forgetting who he was, where he was, what planet he was on because that little sound had his body and mind responding in a way he couldn't explain.

And it frightened him.

He pulled away and put some distance between you, palm dragging over his wet mouth, eyes hungrily devouring your wrecked state. Still leaning against the door, you panted heavily and stared at him through heavy lidded eyes.

He scratched at something invisible behind his ear and took a deep, steadying breath.

"I should go."

You frowned, still trying to catch your breath. "W-what? Was it something -"

Dave quickly shook his head and stepped further away.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he promised, then turned on his heel, practically running back to his car while you stood there, completely dumbfounded.

As it turned out, you did not hear from him the following day. Nor did you see him at your coffee spot the entire fucking week. By Tuesday, after sending a few pathetic texts that went unanswered, you forced yourself to accept reality.

Dave ghosted you and you would never see him again.

It was just one date. You only knew him for a week but it felt like so much more and you couldn't help but be torn up about it.

On Tuesday night, you called Shannon to tell her. You did your best not to cry but she could hear it in your voice.

"It felt like such a strong connection, you know?" you said sadly, plucking at a loose thread on your sweater.

"Well, what do you think happened?"

You shrugged and tossed yourself backwards onto your bed. "I don't know. The date went great, he dropped me off at the front door, we were kissing and things were getting heated and then all of the sudden, just -" you snapped your fingers. "He had to leave. Said he would talk to me the next day and I never heard from him again."

You heard her hum on the other end and clink a spoon in her mug. "Suppose my silly theory was wrong, then."

"What theory?"

"The dreams you were having and the feelings you were describing sounded like something I've read in one of my books, I wondered if it were real."

One of her books. You rolled your eyes, knowing she had a very strange collection of reference material spanning from meditation and Hinduism to books about Karma and the Kama Sutra.

Even so, you humored her and let her continue.

"Do you believe in past lives?" she asked. You hid your scoff behind your hand and cleared your throat.

"Uh, can't say that I do."

"That's okay, I know it's a bit out there, but it sounds very much like you might have a connection with this man that supersedes this earthly plane. And what I mean is, you may be destined to be together."

"Like, soulmates?" you asked dubiously.

"Mmm, not exactly. What I'm thinking is a little more physical. I have a book that talks about reincarnation and the ability to imprint on another person to the degree where the link follows you throughout all your lives. If it's at all possible, you will always find each other. Although it's usually pretty rare..."

"What do you mean, if it's possible?"

Shannon flipped through some pages of a book, humming under her breath before she said, "Well, if one of you comes back as a bear and the other a human, odds are it won't be a happy reunion."

You couldn't help it, you had to laugh. Shannon wasn't offended. She knew you didn't mean any disrespect and her beliefs were a little more difficult for others to understand.

"Okay, thank you. I needed a reality check," you said with a smile. "I hear what you're saying: we just met and there's zero reason for me to be acting this way."

"No, that's not at all what I mean," Shannon replied. "I haven't actually known anyone personally who went through something like this, but I've read about this phenomenon online."

"Alright, this is getting a little too weird, even for me," you said, sitting up in bed.

"Just Google it!" Shannon told you before you finished your call. "Read what others have said and see if you can relate."

You promised her you would give it a try the next day but you never got around to it. Instead, you went back to moping and staring at your ignored texts to Dave for the rest of the week.

By the time Friday came, you were ready to blow off some steam, refusing to spend another night wasting away over some man who just happened to be an insanely good kisser and whose scent you couldn't erase from your memory.

You agreed to go out with a small group of girls after work. The alcohol buzzing in your veins and the loud music in the bar helped you forget about Dave, but when other men approached you to dance, you just couldn't do it. You politely turned them down and stayed with your co-workers, Dave's rejection still leaving its mark on you. You listened to them complain about a team lead they couldn't stand who got a promotion she didn't deserve and then, as they began to drink a little more, discussed the finer qualities of the cute guy in the mail room.

In retrospect, leaving by yourself when you became too tired wasn't the best choice. You had a longer walk back to your bus stop than usual and it was eerily quiet out, but you wrapped your arms around yourself and kept your head down. And it almost worked, too, until you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Need a ride, pretty girl?"

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you kept pushing forward after tossing a no, thanks over your shoulder.

"Don't need to be rude," the voice replied, now much closer. You glanced around nervously and didn't see another soul on the street. Only parked cars.

You moved faster but it wasn't good enough. A hand clasped onto your shoulder, grip firm and frightening, and fear shot through you. You broke out into a cold sweat when he pushed you against a building, caging you in and leering down at you, his sour breath poisoned by alcohol. You recognized him as someone from the bar but before you had a chance to process anything else, two massive hands dug into his shoulders and yanked him away in the blink of an eye.

You shirked away when you heard a fist meeting soft tissue, then the clattering of teeth and a pained groan. Your savior's voice growled threateningly, warning the man to get the fuck out of here before I put you in the goddamn hospital, then you heard the squeaking of shoes against concrete and hurried, retreating footsteps down the street.

You were scared. He could sense it. He could fucking smell it. It made his skin crawl and his stomach turn.

Dave's voice was so deep and gravelly, you didn't even recognize him. Not until he crouched in front of you on the street, his dark eyes filled with worry as they scanned your face for any injury did you realize it was even him. Tears welled up in your eyes and he cupped your face. He looked like he was in extreme pain as he watched your tears begin to fall. He then stood, scooping you up so he could carry you to a nearby parked car.

"I'm going to take you home," he said when he placed you gently in the front seat. You had about fifteen seconds to gather your thoughts while he hurried around to the other side of his car.

"Why are you here, Dave?" you asked when he turned his key in the ignition. He paused momentarily before putting his seatbelt on and merging onto the empty street.

"Right place, right time," he muttered. He was gripping the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white. You watched him closely from the passenger seat, not believing him for one second but for some inexplicable reason, it didn't frighten you. In fact, you liked it. The idea of Dave being nearby, possibly watching you, made you feel safe and protected, although you hardly knew him.

You took a deep breath, about to muster up the courage to ask him why he had ignored you all week when you were suddenly overwhelmed with his scent. You couldn't describe it but it was a smell uniquely tied to him. You made a little noise in the back of your throat and squirmed in your seat, desperately trying to stay focused and present, but your body had other plans.

Dave's eyes shifted to you, his nostrils flaring at the way your legs rubbed together and your breath picked up and then he smelled it: the first scent of your arousal in the air. That was all it took for him to forget who he was and succumb to his baser instincts.

His cock throbbed painfully hard in his jeans and his molars were practically ground to dust by the time he arrived at your apartment. You fumbled with the seatbelt, desperate to disappear inside and pretend this embarrassing interaction never happened, but you weren't fast enough. Dave had gotten out of the car so quickly that he was already yanking your door open and violently pulling the seatbelt away from your waist. You blinked up at him as if you were trying to clear your vision and jumped out of the car.

Something felt wrong.

You had an ache between your legs that was growing impossible to ignore and your brain was a hazy, swirly mess being so close to his scent. Did someone spike your drink at the bar?

"Thanks," you whispered, chest rising and falling faster as you tried to drag in more air. Your skin was far too sensitive. All you could think about was getting inside before you tore your clothes off in the middle of the parking lot. "I'll, um, see you around, I guess."

He nodded, his neck and cheeks tinted pink as he stared down at you hungrily. "Wait," he croaked when you made a move to leave, eyes burning red hot into you. "Can we - can I explain - fuck," he winced, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to block your scent from his nostrils so he could take a second to fucking think. He felt like he was going insane and he had no idea why.

"You wanna come inside and explain why you haven't talked to me in a week?" you asked bitterly, your arousal temporarily forgotten. "Why you've been ignoring me? Why you made me feel terrible? I was out tonight trying to forget you, Dave. I was hoping it would be the first night all week I didn't cry, but it's too late for that."

He swallowed thickly, eyes all wide and filled with despair as he gazed down at you. "I made you cry?" he asked softly. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him that he failed, that he did the one fucking thing he shouldn't have done.

You huffed and crossed your arms before looking away. "You hurt my feelings, Dave," you mumbled.

His heart lurched in his chest and he took a step forward to gently cup your face. Despite your anger, you gazed up at him with glassy eyes and almost immediately melted into his touch.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so, so sorry. Will you let me explain?"

Reluctantly, you nodded and allowed him to trail after you to your front door.

You flicked the lights on in your kitchen and living room before turning around. Dave stood there looking too big in your average sized apartment, gaze drifting over your walls, your pictures, your plants, your life.

With a little distance, he could feel the clouds clearing and his senses returning, so he took a steadying breath before speaking.

"About last week," he began. You were in the middle of closing your curtains when you turned around to listen. "I didn't want to scare you, but something happened to me that night." You frowned, pulling the curtains closed the rest of the way and took a few steps towards him. Almost instantly he could smell you again, the wetness between your legs practically calling to him, and he quickly held up both hands so you would stop.

"You gotta stay over there," he warned. Hurt flickered over your face but you obeyed and stepped back until you were by the window again. After a moment, the air cleared enough so he could focus and he slowly dropped his hands back to his sides. He was so hard, it almost made him sick.

"I'm sorry," he said once again. "That's part of what I'm talking about. When you're close to me," he pursed his lips and dropped his chin to his chest while you patiently waited for him to continue. "When you're close to me, I can't fucking think straight. And I know it sounds dramatic," he chuckled, looking back up at you across the room. "I know it sounds like I'm making it up but I promise you, I'm not."

"I think I know what you mean," you said softly after a quiet moment. His eyebrows raised a bit, curious for you to elaborate. "It's like... your scent."

"Yes!" Dave exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "I don't understand it but you're giving off a scent and it's doing something to me. Something that frightens me."

You swallowed nervously and took a small step forward.

"Would you... hurt me?"

Dave's eyes went wide and he vigorously shook his head.

"No," he whispered, "never."

You took another step forward and his eyes flickered down to your feet.

"Then what would you do to me?"

His eyes slid shut and he crossed his arms over his chest. What wouldn't he do to you? He would bury his face between your legs until you screamed his name. He would stuff you full of his cock over and over, as many times as you could take it. He wanted to leave love bites all over your body so anyone looking at you would know you're his.

But that would be absurd. You just met and only had one date.

Without even needing to open his eyes, he knew you were closer. The thick smell of your slick filled the air, swirling around him, driving him to the brink of insanity until he was convinced the only cure would be to fuck you senseless.

"I feel it, too, Dave," you whispered, your hands coming up to pull lightly on his arms, unknotting them from their protective place over his chest. You nipped hesitantly at his neck, your lips puckering over his tanned skin, and he felt his resolve crumble.

"Fuck, what is this?" he breathed, his body pulling him forward. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. His mouth pressed into your hair, deeply breathing in your scent, then he dragged his mouth lower. His tongue flicked out to taste your skin, the burst of flavor - you - making his head swim the closer he got to the back of your neck. Before he reached the scar you kept hidden by your hair, he pulled back, gasping for air.

"Come with me," you said with heavy lidded eyes and wet, parted lips. He nodded and followed you, logic and reason fading with each step. He had never felt like this before. It felt like he was being driven by pure instinct, like some kind of animal.

Dave swallowed when you pulled your shirt over your head as you walked, your bare back teasing him with what he could not yet see. Then you worked on your pants, unbuttoning and shimmying out of them as you approached your bed. His cock strained against the metal zipper of his jeans, begging to be touched, begging to be buried deep inside your soaked cunt. And it was soaked. He could see your dampness darkening the fabric of your underwear when you bent forward.

Finally, you turned to face him wearing nothing but your panties and a nervous smile. A low groan escaped from the back of his throat while his gaze drifted slowly down your body, taking in every soft curve and slope while he began to unbutton his shirt.

"You're perfect," he said lowly, shrugging off his shirt before his hands found his belt. "I want you so fucking bad, sweetheart, it hurts. I want to make you mine, make you scream my name til it's the only word you ever remember. I want to fill you up so you're feeling me for days. Want to give you everything you could ever need. Then I want to do it all over again."

Your knees felt weak as you felt another wave of arousal spread through your stomach and between your legs. Shakily, you crawled onto the bed as Dave approached like a predator from the doorway, shedding his clothes and pinning you with an intense stare that, if it were anyone else, would make you nervous.

"You want all that?" he asked you. You were nodding but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the bulge straining in his boxers now that he stepped out of his pants. "Say it," he commanded, and something about his tone made your eyes snap up to his and your spine immediately straighten.

"Yes. I want it. I want you," you replied, then reached your arms out for him to join you. A pleased look passed across his face at your invitation as he kneeled on the bed with you, towering over you with his broad frame, making you feel so small.

He leaned forward with his hands brushing lightly over your shoulders and his lips parted as he admired you openly. Then he murmured, "Lay down and spread your legs," and you felt your stomach flip as you did what you were told.

Dave palmed himself through his boxers when his eyes locked onto the wet spot spreading in your underwear. His long fingers hooked around the fabric and pulled them down, slowly exposing yourself to him. You watched, squirming impatiently, as his eyes turned from brown to almost black when he took a deep breath and spread your legs wide into the bedding.

"I need you," you whimpered. Your skin felt like it was on fire and you were so aroused it almost fucking hurt but you were certain Dave would be able to fix it. You didn't know why or how, but you just knew.

"I know, baby," he said, shifting down so he laid between your legs, his angular nose nudging against your folds and his hot breath fanning over your leaking cunt. You shivered and whined but his big hands held you in place.

"I'm gonna take good care of you, don't worry," was the last thing he said before he placed a sweet kiss on your mound. Then he kissed you again except that time, his tongue flicked out, catching your clit, and the noise that came from your mouth was borderline embarrassing.

"God, you're so wet," he whispered in awe inbetween plunging his tongue in and out of your opening, reveling in the taste of your pussy. The way your scent had engulfed him made him feel insane and the only thing he wanted to do was pull more sweet noises from your lips.

There was no explaining that night. At least, not rationally. The two of you fell into something neither of you experienced before but somehow was all too familiar. You found yourself being far more submissive than you ever were with anybody else, like your body had taken over and knew just what to do. Anything Dave asked of you, you did it, trusting him implicitly.

It was a combination of your sobs and whimpers that drove him forward like an animal, unable to stop eating at your cunt until you came twice from his tongue. You finally had to tug on his hair to pull him away, your skin coated in a thin layer of sweat and chest heaving beneath him.

"Could smell you all fucking night," he admitted hoarsely, wiping his palm over his slick covered mouth. "Drove me crazy, couldn't stop thinking about it. Christ, I- I've never needed someone this badly, baby," he told you as he pushed his boxers off and gripped the base of his cock in his fist. "'M sorry, can't explain it-"

"I know," you croaked before hauling yourself up from the mattress. You moved towards him on your knees, legs still wobbly but you managed to hold yourself up. "I feel it, too. I don't want to leave this bed for a week," you murmured before pressing your lips against his and groaning at the taste of you on his mouth. Again, all you could think was mine, mine, mine. You were consumed by the thought, overwhelmed by the idea of Dave smelling like you so everybody would know he was yours.

Your tongue dove into his mouth greedily, a sentiment he easily returned. You dragged your fingers through his hair, down his neck, over his broad shoulders and down his soft stomach until you found his cock standing at attention between you.

"I- shit," Dave moaned when your lips nipped and sucked down his jaw until you found a tender spot behind his ear you seemed to like while your fist slowly pumped him up and down. "I don't have a condom, I didn't think... do you have any?"

You did, but you paused and thought about it. Even though you were on birth control, you still always used a condom, just to be extra safe. But the idea of having a barrier between you and Dave just felt wrong. You wanted to feel him bare, you needed it. So, you decided on a non-answer.

"I'm on birth control," you whispered, and Dave seemed just as relieved as you at the prospect of taking you raw. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the way you continued to suck and bite at the spot behind his ear while stroking his cock. He wanted to tell you there was a scar there, one he couldn't remember getting, but he was struggling to form a coherent thought.

When your teeth grazed his skin too harshly, he growled and bared his teeth like a goddamn animal, but not because it hurt. Because it felt good.

"Think you can take it, baby?" he rasped, fingers pressing into the softness of your hips.

"Mhmm," you hummed, finally tearing yourself away from his neck, proudly leaving a little red mark of your own before letting go of his cock and twisting around to fall onto all fours.

Dave moaned at the sight of you presenting yourself to him on a silver fucking platter before crawling forward.

He took hold of himself, all heavy and leaking, so he could notch at your entrance. He hummed a little, enjoying the way your warmth spread over his engorged tip, using it to spread your slick around to make it easier to first enter you.

Impatiently, you wiggled a little and tried to spear yourself on him, but he chuckled and grabbed your waist, making you still.

"Want it that bad?" he taunted, voice dropping low, the lust in his veins pumping hard and fast through every inch of his body.

"Yes," you whined, tilting your head back as if you were in pain. "Yes. Please, Dave, don't tease me."

And how could he deny you? He simply wasn't strong enough, his need for you so hot that it burned through his resolve in a matter of seconds.

His eyelids fluttered when his tip slipped past your folds, jaw dropped when he first pressed a few inches inside, face twisting and breath growing ragged when his hips finally came flush with your ass.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, blinking away the tears that suddenly burned his eyes. Shaky hands found your hips and he braced himself, taking a few deep breaths while he waited for your walls to relax and your whimpering to quiet down.

Dave swallowed and looked down, nearly coming apart right then and there at the sight.

"God, baby, you oughta see the way you stretch for me," he breathed, still staring down where you were connected. "That feel good? Hm? Talk to me," he pleaded before drawing back an inch just to watch more of your arousal get pushed out when he slid back inside.

"Yes," you hissed, "I'm so hot, Dave, it feels like I'm on fucking fire, please fucking move."

"Are you sure?" he asked, but his hips had already begun to rock into you without his permission. You nodded and let your eyes fall closed so you could focus on the way each one of his thrusts and grunts soothed the flames roaring inside you.

"Harder," you whispered, not even sure he heard it, but then a moment later his grip around you tightened and his hips snapped faster, the sounds of his skin slapping against your ass filling the room and making you dizzy.

You heard him whispering something to himself but you couldn't make it out. You craned your neck back, bleary eyes trying to find his but every forceful thrust of his hips jolted your entire body and sent you halfway up the bed just to have his massive hands drag you back down.

"Fuck it," he murmured before grabbing you by the shoulders and yanking you up so your back was pressed to his chest. You gasped in surprise and cried out at his relentless pace, never once missing a beat. One of your hands reached around to grab the hair on the back of his head, pulling him close so his mouth was directly next to your ear.

"So - fucking - tight. Want you so - fucking - bad," he whispered through clenched teeth. Both his arms circled around your middle in order to keep you steady, sweaty skin sticking to sweaty skin. You twisted your neck, seeking out his mouth so you could swallow down those words and have them echo like the beat of a drum inside you.

Your lips crashed together, messily licking and biting at one another while he grunted and growled, hammering into you with everything he had. The tip of his cock reached a spot deep within you that forced all the air from your lungs just to be followed by a sharp gasp. It was making you lightheaded, the persistent pattern - grunt, thrust, gasp, grunt, thrust, gasp - and then his hand traveled lower.

"Oh!" you cried out, your fingers slipping through the thick hair on the back of his head and body slumping a bit but he kept a firm hold around your ribs, still pressing you against his front while his fingers rubbed fast, precise circles over your clit.

Your thighs began to shake and your hips sunk lower, unable to keep yourself from giving into the pleasure mounting low in your belly. Your muscles fucking burned from the effort to stay upright, even with his help it was becoming impossible to do.

"Dave," you whimpered, eyes squeezed shut as your head came to rest on his shoulder. It was all you could remember to say, Dave, Dave, Dave. Just like he said. And it was perfect because that was all he wanted to hear.

"You're close," he murmured, lips pressed against the shell of your ear, fingers working expertly over your clit and hips still snapping tirelessly against your ass. You just nodded, slack jawed, as you focused on your release. So close. So fucking close, you wanted to say, but no words came out.

"Give it to me," he growled, voice sounding like a command. Your eyes flew open and a moment later, you came. You bore down on him, pussy clenching around his thick shaft still slamming inside you, in and out, in and out, while you wailed his name over and over until you grew weak and your muscles threatened to give out.

Dave made a pleased sound before pushing you forward onto the bed. You fell onto your forearms with a huff, still in a rosy haze from your orgasm. One hand gripped your hip, the other your shoulder, and he used you. He fucking used you to get himself off, slamming into you as hard as he liked, chasing his release, puffing and growling above you until he finally stilled and you felt his spend slowly fill you up.

"Fuck!" Dave groaned, gaze pinned to the way he spilled out of you when he pulled out. "Fucking beautiful, baby," he whispered hoarsely, still panting for breath as he continued to watch. You whined and your hips began to drop, so he collapsed next to you and tugged you against him, spooning you with his face pressed into your shoulder and his hands soothingly stroking any part of you he could reach.

"I'll... I'll get you something in a minute," he muttered, chest still heaving as he held you close. You just shook your head and closed your eyes.

"It's okay," you whispered softly.

There was so much you wanted to say, but fear held you back. You wanted to tell him how incredible it was, how you never came that hard before in your life, how amazing you felt now that he finally gave you what you needed.

Once his breathing evened out, he began to nose gently at your back. He trailed up through your hair, pushing it aside until his tongue found the skin on the back of your neck. It felt so good, melting in his arms and sharing in a warm glow while he bit and licked at the back of your neck. It didn't even strike you as an odd thing to do, the pair of you were too deep to recognize it.

With a sigh, you lifted his left hand from your stomach and examined his long fingers, your own slowly tracing his as he continued to mindlessly suck at your neck.

"What's the story here?" you asked bravely, tapping twice on the tan line of his ring finger. "You never really said much."

He grunted into your skin and forced himself to unlatch from your neck.

"Was married," he said simply. "Didn't work out."

You hummed and laced your fingers with his while he watched from over your shoulder. His cock twitched alive against your thigh when you wiggled in his grasp.

"Why?"

He shrugged, lips dragging over your shoulder. If someone had asked him that six months ago, he would have had a much more emotional reaction. Anger mixed with pain, most likely. But you had somehow managed to dwindle it down to a light shrug.

"Don't think it was just one thing," he admitted.

You nodded solemnly, thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles.

"Does it still hurt to talk about?" you asked him. You wished you knew more but you feared you might burst the perfect little bubble you had found yourselves in.

Dave smiled and, with his free hand, lifted your leg so your ankle rested on the outside of his knee.

"Not anymore," he said right before sinking back inside you.

It was the dreams that finally made you both snap out of the lust filled stupor you were lost in.

Dave had spent the night and entire next day with you, only giving yourselves enough time to eat and rest in between the countless times you found yourself impaled on his cock. It was sometime in the mid afternoon when you had fallen asleep on his chest that you awoke with a start, unable to shaky an eerie feeling.

"Dave?"

His eyes snapped open and found yours, looking slightly rattled, himself.

You breathed a sigh of relief and nuzzled into his bare chest. "I had such a weird dream."

"Me, too," he said, voice thick with sleep. He swiped a palm over his face before stretching both arms above his head. "What was yours about?"

You went on to tell him about the very vivid dream you had about him, although the man in your dreams didn't look like Dave nor did he have the same name, you just somehow knew it was him. With your face heating up, you glazed over the part where you fucked like animals in heat for a week straight and all together left out the end where you had a full blown family together, figuring it would be a bit too much and it would most definitely scare him off. But much to your surprise, he detailed a dream of his own that was so similar, it gave you goosebumps.

"Maybe we need to get out of this apartment for five fucking minutes," you joked, yet still couldn't shake the lingering feeling of familiarity.

After a few moments where you both remained quiet and lost in thought, Dave spoke again.

"There was something else."

You tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

"I think we had... a family."

Dave closed his eyes as if he too felt like saying it would be too much too fast, but you shot up excitedly in bed.

"We had kids in my dream, too," you confessed, and the both of you stared at one another in shock. "And this isn't the first time, either," you added. Embarrassment was the furthest thing from your mind now as the words came tumbling from your lips. "I had them before we even had our first date."

Dave's eyes went wide and he sat up, as well.

"Shit," he muttered, "me, too. Thought I was crazy."

"Maybe we are," you huffed, still in complete disbelief. Then you remembered what Shannon had said when you poured your heart out to her and your brow furrowed before digging in the sheets for your phone.

"What is it?" he asked as he watched you.

"My friend, the one you met the night we had our date," you said as you busily focused on your phone. "She knows a little about this stuff. She's a little strange but -"

"Let's go talk to her," he said before you even had to ask. You sent your text and looked around your room.

Could you really have known one another in a past life?

You weren't sure how you got there, but in just a few short days you found yourselves standing outside the old Victorian house of Talia Carter, a friend of Shannon's whom she recommended the minute she read your text about your shared dreams.

Talia, or 'Duchess' as she preferred to be called, claimed to be clairvoyant and promised she would be able to do readings on you both to find out if your hunch was right or if you were both just certifiably insane.

Despite all the evidence, you still had your doubts as you climbed the old wooden steps of her porch. Talia swung the door open, her bright red lipstick laid on thick and stretched into a wide smile framed by her very long, straight dark hair. But her smile faded almost instantly once she saw you and she gripped the doorframe for support, alarming you both. She quickly shook her head and refocused her gaze on you both before apologizing and ushering you inside.

You hesitated for a moment and glanced up at Dave.

"My friend Shannon called, I'm -"

"I know, sweetheart," she said as if it were clear as day. "I know exactly who you are."

Dave's hand fell to your lower back and he peered inside her house before determining she wasn't some kind of obvious psycho before nodding to you and taking your hand. Talia bit back a smile and she stepped aside, holding the door open wide for you both.

"If you would like to follow me, I have a study where I do my readings just off the kitchen. Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked over her shoulder, leading you past a dark cherry wooden dining room table and matching China cabinet, as well as countless green plants stuck on every flat surface.

"No, thank you," you said, gaze roaming around the room, temporarily stunned by the very unique Elizabethan style she chose. It seemed as though she liked her wallpaper dark and oriental rugs mismatched. The woodwork appeared to be all original, or at least it was made to look that way, and it was all meticulously cared for.

"I prefer to model my home after my own past life," she said when she caught you gawking at the beautiful wainscotting and then the glittery chandelier above her desk.

The two of you sunk down into a soft velvet sofa across from her.

"You remember your past life?" Dave asked, his hand falling to your knee, body curling protectively around you when he crossed a leg and leaned forward. Talia noticed but she didn't say a word. Not yet.

"Yes. I believe Shannon mentioned I preferred to go by Duchess," she explained as she pulled out some tarot cards as well as a few books from the built in bookshelf behind her. "I was the Duchess of Argyll and I still very much connect with that lifestyle, so I have tried to recreate it in my home."

"Well, you've done a beautiful job," you told her honestly. She paused and gave you a sweet smile before opening one of her books and flipping through the pages.

"You are very kind, thank you," she said, "but we are not here to talk about my past life. We are here to talk about yours."

You bit your lip and leaned closer to Dave. Without even looking up, she asked, "Hundreds of years ago, the human race was suffering and on the brink of going extinct. It's believed Mother Nature took over and created ranks among human beings in order to boost the population. Have you ever heard of Alphas and Omegas?"

You both frowned and shook your heads. When she found the page she wanted, she lit up and turned it around, pushing it across the desk so you could see.

"I could do a reading on you both, but it's simply not necessary," she said. You were about to lean forward to look at the page when you froze.

"Why?"

She grinned and sat back in her chair, looking at the two of you like she couldn't believe her eyes.

"I sensed it the moment I saw you. You were mates in a prior life," she replied. She pointed to Dave's hand on your knee. "You're very protective of her, yes?"

Dave shrugged and scooted closer to the edge of the sofa. "That isn't unusual."

"No, you're right," she said, then leaned forward to rest her elbows on her desk, lacing her fingers together. "But tell me, do you have any noticeable scars? Maybe ones you have trouble remembering how they came to be?"

Your hand immediately came up to rub the back of your neck and Dave noticed. Visions of him licking and biting in that very same spot swam in your memories and you glanced up at him once again, watching as he came to the same realization.

"How did you get that?" he asked you softly. Your eyes darted wildly back and forth between his before answering.

"My mom and dad always told me different stories, I'm not - I was never really sure."

Then you recalled how fixated you were on the spot behind his ear the first time you had sex and you lunged forward, brushing his hair out of the way with a gasp.

"Where did -"

"I don't know," he said immediately, the energy in the room shifting as you both stumbled into something inexplicable. "I grew up in an orphanage. No one was ever able to tell me."

Your eyes watered for a moment at the thought of a young Dave growing up scared and all alone, but you forced yourself to put it out of your mind for now. You turned back to Talia, who was watching you both with an unreadable expression.

You told her everything. You told her about your dreams, the extraordinary pull between you, the intensity and passion when you had sex, the hopelessness you felt when you thought he rejected you. And most importantly, the calm and secure feeling whenever he was near.

She gave the book a little nudge and you took it on your lap so the two of you could read, but you were hardly absorbing any of it. The words knot, glands, scent marking, heat, imprinting floated across the page while she spoke, explaining everything she knew. And as crazy as it all sounded, neither of you could deny the signs.

You stayed for over an hour, asking question after question. She explained how your scars were most likely remnants of the scent glands that each of you pierced, which bonded you forever as mates. How the dreams that you both had were memories of your past life and the unbreakable bond you shared was what drew you together. When you mentioned the way your body felt like it was on fire, skin hot to the touch, she explained in more detail about heats and ruts and how it was your body's response to finding one another.

When you finally stood to leave, exhausted and unable to think of another question, she refused to take Dave's money. When he tried to insist, she held up her hands and shook her head firmly.

"You have no idea how rare this is for someone like me. Meeting the two of you is an experience I will never forget."

She even let you take home the book you had still open on your lap, your minds racing as you tried to keep up with the whirlwind of information thrown at you.

When she walked you to the door, the sun dipping low in the sky already, she placed a hand on each one of your shoulders and looked at you both intently.

"Promise me you will not squander this gift," she said. "You have no idea how unusual it is for mates to find one another again. The odds are astronomical and yet here you are, reunited by a twist of fate."

You had no idea what to say. You looked up at Dave sheepishly and he smiled warmly at you before saying, "We promise."

Once back in his car, silence surrounding you even though your minds were buzzing with activity, he reached for your hand.

"Do you believe her?" he asked. You bit the inside of your cheek and stared straight ahead down her long driveway before slowly nodding and turning to face him.

"I think I do."

A big grin stretched across his face and he brought the back of your hand up to his lips. "I think I do, too."

You giggled and ran your fingers through your hair, a rush of adrenaline burning through your veins.

"Now what?" you asked him, letting him drop your hand so he could shift his car into drive.

But before he pressed on the gas, he gave you one final look and said, "I don't know, but whatever it is, we'll do it together."

[alivegirldetectiveagency]

dbda from jenny’s perspective is sooo. she lives alone running her families butcher shop. she rents out spare rooms but her only tenants are two teen girls. one is a shut in dropout who abruptly becomes not a shut in and is overly invested in her love life. Said love life almost gets her killed. the other tenant just appears one day, pays head rent with misc cash and coins, and makes noise constantly. they hang out in the shop constantly and seemingly have no other hang out spot. one of the girls randomly storms out talking about hell and meeting up with her shitty ex so she gets a knife and goes as well because what the fuck. then she gets possessed by a demon. also her tenant has tiny people living in a jar in her room. the pet policy for the apartment does not cover that. also the constant noise is the ghosts of two english boys living in her house. also that local asshole is a child stealing witch. the child stealing witch blows up her shop and kidnaps the ghosts. the girls go to rescue the ghosts and only one comes back. she gets invited to move to london england and is like sure why the fuck not might as well think about it because a witch blew up her place of employment.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Lesson Learnt Pt. 2 | John Price x Reader

Summary: After the initial incident that caused your meeting, Johnny sets you and Price up on a date at a little diner nearby.

Word Count: ~ 2.5k

Warnings: can’t say much w/o spoilers but random men, ghost being moody, Johnny being overly friendly, working in customer service…

A/N: idk what happened something possessed me when I made this, it was supposed to be fluff but then it exploded. hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist

Weeks had passed after the initial incident, and your life had quickly changed.

You’d broken up with your toxic boyfriend, now wondering how you hadn’t seen it earlier, and why you hadn’t listened to all your friend's advice and thoughts on him. You’d moved out, blocked him on everything, and found a new apartment closer to your simple job as a barista. It was enough to keep the bills paid, for now. At least until you finally got out of college with your doctorate in nursing science.

Having been in college for nearly eight years now, and not living in the dorm (there were far too many incidents on campus for you to trust any sort of campus police, not to mention the generally shady system of coverups) made it a little bit harder.

Student loans were threatening to suffocate you, but for now, you would focus on one day to the next. All of this, the annoying days that drug on, or the hard times, would all be memories before you knew it, and it would be worth it. Or at least you hoped.

Today wasn’t one of those super slow-moving days where customers were ordering hyper-specific drinks or getting the suspiciously old lemon cakes, only to complain about how stale they were, as if you could do anything about it. No, today was relatively normal, customers minding their own business after ordering, coworkers having idle chatter.

“M’ taking my lunch break.”

You said to your close coworker, Laney. Her honey-brown eyes shifted over to you, and she nodded with a little smile.

“Don’t take too long, might miss some cute boys.”

She teased, knowing full well all of your opinions on relationships right now. You wanted to wait until you had a stable income and were out of school. She’d heard it only about a million times. You huffed a soft laugh, deft fingers untying the knot in your apron as you set it up on a hook, walking out to your car.

Lunch break was about 30 minutes, which was more than enough for you to drive to the nearest cheap restaurant and pick something up. Clicking your key button and heading towards where you heard the beep of your car, you opened the door, sliding into the worn leather. It wasn’t a new car, not by a long shot, but it was your old faithful, and it had served you well for nearly ten years in a row.

You started the car, muscle memory kicking in as you drove to that place right down the road from your work. It was past the chicken shop, a place you would refrain from visiting for a while after seeing some undercover cops staking out there one night.

You turned and pulled into the parking lot, glancing around before opening your door, only for the cold air to nip at your bare arms, when you decided to slip on the warm leathery jacket, with the fur on the inside. The one that the man, John, maybe, had given you. You’d lost the piece of paper with their numbers on it to the washing machine, but oh well. He didn’t look like the type to live around here, anyway, so it wasn’t like you were going to see him again.

Walking into the restaurant, you strode to the front, placing a quick little order and paying with your card, before choosing a small circular table in the corner to wait for your food. This place was usually quick. You idly scanned the guests. Two large men sitting together, chatting. An older woman and what was probably her husband seated with a younger man and woman. Maybe some sort of family double date? A nervous-looking teenager sitting alone, knee bouncing. An old, thin man seated at the far end, mumbling incoherently to himself.

Not unusual.

You pulled your phone out, idly scrolling through social media before your name was called, and you got up to go collect your food.

~

“You sure?”

“M’ tellin’ ya, it’s exactly what Gaz said she looked like.”

Simon glanced out at the girl his sergeant seemed so certain about. He wouldn’t lie, you did match the description pretty decently. Just as he opened his mouth to point anything out that fought against Johnny’s claim (just to spite him, obviously, not because he liked watching Soap get all frustrated and start rambling on for an hour on end), he noticed it.

“She’s wearin’ cap’s jacket.”

Johnny’s brows rose as he snuck another glance at you. You grabbed your tray of food, walking back to the small little corner where your bag was on the seat. You were wearing their captain’s jacket. The brown leather, the slight fuzz in the sides and insides, the buttoned pockets….he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it earlier.

“Hell’s bells, been wonderin’ where that thing went.”

Simon only gave a little grunt in reply, eyes narrowed on you before he glanced back at his food. He didn’t want to seem a creep. He already knew he was intimidating enough to the normal civilian, and one of his “I-want-to-eat-your-firstborn-child” glares (named by Johnny and Kyle) probably wasn’t helping.

“Sounds like Price’s found ‘imself a pretty birdie.”

Johnny lit up at those words, a devilish grin lighting his features, one that Simon usually only saw before he demolished buildings or people with explosives. He was already dreading it before it came out of his mouth.

“We shoul’ set ‘em up on a date.”

“No.”

“Don’ tell me it wouldn’ be a good idea. Might keep him from giving us so many sprints at training, yeah? Ya know he’s been overworkin’ us lately…”

The slight pause Simon took was all Soap needed to continue spewing his disarming, convincing words that usually always worked on his Lieutenant. His lips further curled into a grin as he went on.

“He’s been so tense lately, jus’ let us do this for ‘im, help him relax some…”

“Fine. Get on wit’ it.”

Simon finally relented, suddenly finding his food very interesting to look at as Johnny got up, striding over to you with a confidence one could only expect from the Scotsman.

He glanced up, trying to subtly watch as his sergeant approached you. You were on a call with someone, the phone held up to your ear by your shoulder while you ate your fries, the main entree of your order already gone. When Johnny walked up, you immediately sized him up.

Paranoid. Simon didn’t blame you, living on this end of town. The only reason he and the guys stayed here was for the cheap flats they could get when on leave for a few months. Price had a little house more up South, but never visited it much, letting it gather some dust.

You took the phone from your ear, muttering something to whoever was on the other end, and hanging up. You raised a brow at Johnny, who in turn gestured to your jacket and struck up a conversation. Johnny was trying to look unthreatening, he could tell. Sitting down so he wasn’t standing over you. A small, easygoing smile. Trying to make you laugh, and succeeding a bit.

Five minutes in, and you were seeming more comfortable with him. He wrote something down on a napkin from your table with a pen in his pocket, handing it to you, giving a teasing wink which you snorted at, and walking back over to his and Simon’s table with a huge smile.

“Wha’ did you just do?”

Simon asked, suspiciously eying Soap.

“I set our cap’ up with a date.”

He beamed, and Simon only sighed, knowing that Price wouldn’t take it too well to be sent on a date with a girl he’d only just met a few weeks ago. A girl that hadn’t texted him since. But maybe, just maybe, it would go decently.

~

That had been one of the strangest encounters in your life.

A Scottish man introduces himself as a friend of Price’s, saying something about working together at their jobs and telling you he recognized the jacket you were wearing. So much for not ever seeing John Price again, considering his friend had just set the two of you up, and given you the man’s number too. All the while the gruff-looking man had sat at Johnny’s table, watching the interaction.

It had made you more than a little nervous, but nothing had gone bad. The Scotsman had been friendly, and even funny, but not pushing too far.

And now you had a date on Friday night.

When you got back to work, off of lunch break, Laney helped you into your apron, tying the knot for you like she always did.

“You’re late, what took so long?”

She knew you weren’t usually ever late. Always on time, punctual, even. You managed your time properly.

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

She grinned at that, nudging you with an elbow as you started taking orders.

“C’mon, spill it.”

And you did.

You began with the incident a few weeks ago, which she’d mostly already heard about, then told her all about the Scotsman and his friend, and finally the date on Friday. Right when you were about to finish the story, you felt your phone buzz, and you took it out to check it despite usually keeping it on Do Not Disturb. A text from an unknown number, but you knew who it was.

“Sorry for my muppets bothering you, they don’t know how to keep their mouths shut.”

You snorted in undignified laughter, replying while an older customer complained, mumbling something about ‘this generation and their phones’.

“I’m assuming you’re talking about Johnny?”

“Yes, the one that barely talks in coherent English.”

“Aw, he was funny. I liked him.”

“Don’t go liking him too much. We apparently have a date on Friday.”

“I’ll see you there, then?”

“See you there.”

You finally silenced your phone, slipping it back into your pocket as you went back to work with a noticeable pep in your step and a warm, fuzzy smile you offered to customers.

Laney certainly noticed.

When your shift was over, ending quickly, she talked to you while walking out to the parking lot through the back exit.

“I can help you get ready for the date, if you want?”

She offered. You’d be stupid to deny, with the impeccable makeup and fashion sense that she had.

“Sure, I can swing by at 3. That’ll give you plenty of time.”

“You have any shifts the rest of the week?”

“Barely. Just little half-times I squeezed in between lecturers. Last year’s always the busiest.”

“See you Friday, then.”

You beamed at her, sliding into your car as she walked to your own.

“See you Friday.”

~

Some of the days passed in a blur, some dragged on slower than ever before.

Eventually, though, Friday rolled around, and you were sitting in your friend’s chair as she did your hair, your makeup light, but good. You were wearing a simple outfit, some clean jeans, and a cute brown sweater over your white shirt.

It was 4:30, and you had only thirty minutes to haul your ass out to the nice diner the both of you were meeting at for dinner.

“It’s fine, I need to go. Seriously.”

Laney gave you a look, but reluctantly started putting all her things away. You hugged her, mumbling thanks in her ear, before grabbing your purse that had all of your things in it and walking to the exit of her quaint home.

You drive to the diner, finding the parking lot to have the familiar old car you’d seen Price driving in the first place. You parked got out of the car, and walked into the diner, only for the server up front to inform you that you’d already been paid for, and she led you to a table where Price was seated.

He’d tried to dress nicely, you could tell. Beard combed and hair done, dressed in jeans and a comfortable-looking dress shirt. He gave you a small smile as you slid into the booth, and there was already a tray of crinkle-cut fries in the center.

“Hope you didn’ mind that I ordered, big fella like me needs a lotta food.”

He said with a chuckle, and you grinned.

“I don’t mind, trust me, my older brother devours food like no other.”

He smiled, a little bob of his head before his brow raised in mild curiosity.

“You got a brother?”

A nod.

“Yeah, name’s Gary. He’s quiet, but we love ‘im for it.”

“Me and the boys are just about brothers, wish they’d be quiet for once.”

You snorted at that, taking a sip of your water before the waitress came by and you ordered your meal. Price’s was the first to come out, he’d ordered a full English breakfast that the diner somehow served, despite it being around dinner time. Yours came out next, and you both idly chattered about your life, family, jobs (he was apparently military and off on leave right now, not that you minded), and whatnot.

When he was about more than halfway through his food, his phone began buzzing, and his face went serious as he held a small finger up to you with a slightly apologetic expression, taking the phone call.

He listened, and you simply continued eating your food, not minding. Everyone had to take important calls every now and then, sometimes it just wasn’t avoidable.

He gave a few gruff yes’ and no’s, before sighing as he replied for one last time into the phone.

“I’ll be right there.”

When he clicked off the call, shoving his phone into his pocket, he gave an apologetic look.

“It’s an emergency, can’t stay. ‘M sorry.”

You nodded in understanding.

“Is everything alright?”

You asked, and he nodded, face set in what looked like a grim determination. He called a waitress over, paying the bill before you both got up. He gave you a light pat on the shoulder as you both walked out, right before you went to your car.

“We could do this again, if you’d like. With no interruptions.”

“I’d like that.”

He breathed an audible sigh of relief at that.

“I’ll text you when I can.”

Before he began walking to his car, getting in. You walked to yours, opened up the driver’s side door, and slid in before you saw his jacket sitting on the passenger seat. Cursing to yourself, you grabbed it, having it in mind to go take it to him before he left.

Before you could move, though, a hand clasped over your mouth.

A cold prick of pain in the back of your neck. Liquid.

“Don’t scream.”

A voice warned as if you could make any noise at all with a hand over your mouth.

An overwhelming sense of heaviness overtook you, and your vision began swimming, before turning black as your eyes fluttered closed.

“What’re we getting ‘er for?”

“Bargaining chip.”

Tags:

@yearninglustfully

@ashy-kit

@theoslove

@mayoforthewin

[prettyoatmeal]

Shouldn't Have Shared (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Following up my previous post LOL. This is also not proof read, I was listing to a documentary and listening to music in the background of writing. I didn't intend for this to be so long, but I kinda got lost in writing this.

GENRE: Smut

Summary: 'CAUTION! Do not share or this man will appear in your room!' is what the post said. Of course, it was just a hoax.. wasn't it? Sharing it to feed into your obsession for this fictional man from a video game, you're woken up to a pleasant surprise.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, creampie, overly possessive Ghost, primal, mentions of claiming and ruining.

Word Count: 1009

NSFW UNDER CUT

Masterlist here!

***************

Rustle... rustle, rustle...

Stirring in your sleep, you could feel something was.. off. You felt the air tensing around you, becoming hyperaware of your breathing and heartbeat as you began to wake up from your slumber. Opening your eyes and rubbing the sleep from them, you turned away from the wall only to see the shadow of a large man staring right down at you. Your life almost flashed before your eyes.

Feeling your heart stop, you let a loud shriek of terror at the unexpected silhouette. Sitting up quickly, you push yourself to the corner of your bed, your body working on autopilot as you pegged one of your stuffed animals at him.

You could see the little stuffy you threw bouncing off from his chest, hearing him chuckling under his breath.

"Gonna take a lot more than a stuffed lamb to take me out."

You'd recognise that voice from anywhere.

Holy shit.

Turning on the lamp of your bedside table, you finally got a look at the mystery man standing at the edge of your bed. Eyes adjusting to the light, your eyes widened at the realisation.

"Easy, love, no need to be frightened. It's just me. You know who I am, don't you?" Taking another step, he bent over and leaned his palms into the plush edge of your bed, allowing you to get a closer look at him.

Hmm, blond eyelashes. Cute. Full gear... hot. You nodded, swallowing. He was so much bigger in person. Over a screen you couldn't properly picture yourself next to him, but now that he was up close, it was jarring.

"Good, of course you do."

Slowly, he crouched down and picked up the soft toy, throwing it back next to you. Hearing his voice in person, you couldn't help but shudder as you stared in awe. He was so close, so close to you. If this was going to end in any of the ways you've fantasised about, it was going to end with-

"Tell me, sweetheart, did my character on a screen do me justice, or am I even more striking in person?" he smirked, his voice lingering with an arrogance which would make you gag if it were any other man.

He was real... and damned cocky too.

You hadn't said any words yet, and he noticed your silence, his head tilting as he was almost kneeling on your bed at this point.

"Answer me, lovie."

"Yes."

"You're good at listening, aren't you?" He continued, his voice low in just the right way to send a shiver down your spine. "Now tell me something else, you've always wanted more than just pixels on a screen. You've played the game, you've fantasised, you've shared."

Fuck.

"Fuckin' cheeky for sharing that knowing I'd come find ya, and now I'm here to give you what your imagination can't. Would you want that, lovie?"

Fuck.

You swallowed, hard. The air charged with a palpable energy. It felt as if the room was closing in on you two, the erotic tension flooding the air around you as you felt yourself becoming warmer. While you felt your fluster, your fantasies in turn were becoming more and more real by the second.

God, you wanted this. You needed this.

"Yes."

___

"Quit squirming, damn it."

Your eyes were rolled back. His hand was over your mouth, muffling your pathetic whines. You couldn't risk waking up the house, could you?

Your body pinned down against your bed, his clothed chest against your back. Slamming into you at an ungodly speed with sloppy noised, it was everything you'd dreamed about.

"I said," he started, pulling your hips up with his free hand with a grasp tight enough to bruise, angling every thrust which made you lose your mind, "quit squirming."

It was hard to not drool over his palm, the unholy echo of skin slapping together made you pray that no one else would wake up to hear it.

"Ghost-" you managed to moan out his callsign, muffled against his palm.

"Fuck, baby. Keep quiet f' me." he almost whimpered, his face getting lost and buried in your neck as he nipped and kissed at the soft skin. "Can't have- mmh - ye' waking the others up, can you?"

You were barely able to shake your head, this goddamn hunk of a man keeping you under his weight as he rearranged your insides.

"Sweet girl, how long have you thought about this? Touchin' yourself to the thought of me, now coming into y' room like this and using you like you've wanted." His voice came out as a growl, right against your hear and giving you goosebumps.

One night stands were never your thing, but you could for sure keep this going with him. With your walls clenching around him, your went blurry with tears as your eyes threatened to flutter closed.

His filthy words wavered, his voice breaking as he became increasingly desperate himself.

"Finally been given a taste and this wet cunt is just sucking me in."

With his cock hitting that spongey spot inside you, you tensed under him as you felt your orgasm approaching rapidly. Only a few more thrusts and with a muffled cry, you were coming undone, gushing around him. The feeling only made him whine more as you clamped down on him so deliciously, his hips slamming against your ass were now on borderline primal.

"I'll give you what you want, y're all mine, fuck."

With a final grunt against your neck, you felt the warmth of his cum filling you to the brim. Though, he was so deep inside you that there was no where for his release to go but seep out of you. His his heavy breaths mixed with growls, he removed his hand from your mouth and helped to flip you over.

Pulling you almost down to the edge of your bed, you were put into a mating press, barely comprehending it in your post-orgasm haze.

"We're not done yet. Sweet girl, I'm going to ruin you."

***************

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO FINISH

I'VE JUST GRADUATED

CHEERS

[lunarw0rks]

HEYYY just wondering if I can do a request of an experimented reader? (They can be any animal or anything)

❀*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Patient 001 // 141 Mini Drabbles

Warning(s): FailedExperiment!reader, gn!reader, medical procedures, drugging mention, kidnapping, blood, injury, death, animal testing mention, angst, hurt/comfort, no use of y/n Word Count: 2.6k ꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗

A/N: I hope this isn't too dark for what the anon requested. If it is, I apologize. I've been interested in this plot line for a bit, and wanted to write something for it!

SYNOPSIS; You're a failed scientific experiment. Once a civilian, now a half-human that had gone through hell. Your other half, now a mutated creature.

To no longer be human would be a blessing. But that part of you stayed, partially. Still terrorized from the experiments, the tests, the documentation of your transformation.

Then came the day you were found.

MISSION BRIEFING; Their orders were simple.

Evacuate innocent technicians — and most importantly — find the location of the catastrophic chemical component, before it ends up in the wrong hands.

What was behind the doors, they'd certainly never forget.

Ghost

His rifle remained raised in front of him as he swept each room. It was obvious the enemy knew they were coming. All he'd found so far were empty sterile spaces, understimulating exam rooms, or numbing cubicles filled to the brim with charts.

Until he heard it.

A sickening screech, like that of a person possessed by a demon. Echoing off the tile walls, much too loud for the lung capacity of a human - and in deep anguish.

Simon's heart stopped when he pushed through the double doors, seeing a huddled figure left behind bars. Not a scientist left behind. Not a prisoner of war. Something.

The glow of your eyes reflected off the blinding white fluorescents, irises matching that of crimson. Your flesh, once human-like, is now sunken and riddled with healed slashes. Most of them self-inflicted, from when you thrashed against your restraints.

When you saw the figure, looming and dormant, it reminded you of the scientists that spent hours observing your changes. How you shrieked when touched when something as small as a pin dropped. Every noise was heightened, making your ears ring painfully. Your hearing could track the sound of potential prey for miles. And your tender skin? Only soothed when you weren't lucid enough to remember the pokes and prods.

Every week, it was a new serum, a new component. Something they would give you to study its effects on your body. Whatever you were, it was a mystery. All you did know was that you craved the metallic taste of blood.

Similar to that of a hungry hound, or that of urban legends that hunt unsuspecting hikers. But you weren't cruel. You weren't a cold-blooded beast that wanted to rip their throats out. That's what kept you around so long.

Your empathy never subsided, like it was supposed to. Your feedings were only that of animal blood or the human samples they gave you in the hope that it would progress the experiment. It never did. It only left you in that cell longer; fearsome and isolated.

"Christ..." Simon muttered to himself, eyes wide. The figure approached the enclosure, his rifle lowered when he observed your fear. He wasn't holding a syringe, not a clipboard, not a video camera, not even a vile of blood for you to choke down. Your vermillion gaze inspected the man with uncertainty, who looked like that of a soldier.

Your fatigued limps crawled across the scuffed cement until you could use the bars to find your feet. Something you couldn't do when the scientists were monitoring you. After so long huddled on the ground or writhing on the cot, it was a relief, if that was possible anymore.

Despite his best judgment, his fingers reached through the bars until they found your fingers. "I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered, his British rasp ringing through your overly-sensitive ears. For the first time in months, you touched the warm flesh of a human hand, not an unempathetic gloved one.

It was a natural reaction to flinch; that primal side of you overshadowing the human one. But you still had the ability to find genuine empathy in his amber eyes. Your hand wrapped tightly around his through the gap in the bars, savoring the once-deprived human contact. "Do you remember your name?"

Price

Price took the riskiest route; the one he wouldn't dare send his team into head-first. The pathway that took him through each of the hidden laboratories — the one only countless hours of digging for intel made him aware of.

It was more chilling than he foresaw.

Rows of exam rooms, shelves of unknown components, countless cages of small animals. All that is expected in a covert scientific compound.

That is... until he stumbled upon a sealed room different from the others. One that could only be inhabited by a human being. He stared in each direction of the hallway, finding a keycard left on one of the bodies.

It was his duty to clear every room, no matter how disturbing the contents would be. Behind the plate glass room that resembled that of an enclosure. A small table and two chairs, a video camera, and most shockingly — the trembling figure in restraints on a thin foam mattress. One who has clearly been poked and prodded for months straight, littered with scars and an almost inhuman appearance.

The man approaching you wasn't a threat, but that didn't stop your body's natural reaction to hide. After months of enduring tests and experiments, being monitored like some sort of creature — it was hard to trust anyone. "My God... What have they done to you?" Price murmured as he approached the cot, fingers finding each tube and removing them one by one.

His expression was one of pity and disgust as his mind imagined all the awful things they put you and your body through. Countless months of research and injecting new components into you clearly didn't turn you into some monster.

You were frightened and in agony — still human underneath it all.

"Can you move your fingers for me? Your legs?" He asked softly, bent down next to your bed. Your shaky fingers finally gained some movement, after he had cut off the constant drip of sedatives. Next, you hesitantly untucked your legs, feeling your bare feet touch the icy tile for the first time in months. It was like learning how to walk all over again, except now you weren't the same you.

Your senses were heightened — smell, eyesight, hearing, and most of all touch. His palm found the small of your back as he led you to the door of your cell, using the keycard he swiped to unlock it from the inside.

As he led you through the corridors, he grabbed a spare lab coat off one of the racks, placing it over your shivering shoulders. No scrubs, no sweats, only a loose white gown. If he wasn't so focused on keeping his eyes peeled for hostiles, he would've given you his own jacket. The entire building had to be kept cool and they hadn't bothered to give you something warmer to wear.

He spoke into his radio, alerting the rest of his team as they combed through the rest of the compound. Right now, his priority was making sure you ended up somewhere safe tonight. "You're safe now, alright? Nobody will put their hands on you again."

Not a place with sterile white walls, a bed to sleep in with more than a thin foam pad, a place where your every move wasn't monitored. A place where the human part of you could feel safe again.

Soap

The power to the compound was cut off when Soap's team breached the tight security system. It was a faulty system — unlocking all the electronically sealed doors instead of the opposite. And the lights, instead of a blinding white, were dim and flickered repeatedly. Most likely the emergency ones.

Enough light to guide you through the corridors, but not enough for his trained eyes to be entirely sure of no threats.

He was using his instincts, his sensory training; all he had to rely on as he crept through the halls. Eerily silent halls. The only sound is the hum of all the technology littering this place and his boots hitting the smooth tile.

Eventually, he found one of the testing rooms; a place that is bound to have some chemical components stored.

Through the glass viewing window, he could see that this space was heavily used. Video cameras, viewing chairs, viles and IV bags stored on refrigerators shelves. Most chilling - the chair with restraints. The one you’d been bound to so many times, poked and prodded by medical tools.

The longer it went on, you felt it more. You weren’t lucky enough to go numb to the pain. It had the opposite effect. Every ache, every stab, every head-splitting migraine.

Soap’s brows knitted together in focus as he maintained his stealth, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of actionable intel. Though this room was dimmer than the rest, with emergency lights even more faulty than the ones in the rest of the building. He had to squint to clear the space in front of him, which hindered the rest of his senses.

Perhaps that's the reason he didn't hear the enemy behind him, or why he got a few stabs into Johnny's abdomen before he managed to fight him off. He slumped against the wall of the lab, comms jammed and unintelligible. Soap had convinced himself this was it, the moment he began seeing double from blood loss.

This was your long-awaited opportunity to escape - the electronic lock on your room failed when the compound was breached. You glided down the corridors, eyes trained ahead of you. What would the world out there be like? Would you ever have a semi-normal life again? This wasn't something you just move on from.

A sharp pain in your abdomen made you wince. But it wasn't pain from a true injury; it was a phantom ache. Someone nearby was hurt — someone deserving of your help.

It was a heavy debate; make your escape now, leave the maimed individual to fend for themselves. But your empathy outweighed your selfishness. The faint distressed prayers got louder as you crept inside one of the testing rooms.

The figure, one of a soldier, clutching his stomach in the same spot you had just felt the pain. Soap's eyes could barely adjust to the person approaching him, only managing a mumble. From his perspective, it must've been terrifying. A gowned, sickly patient with shaky hands outstretched to him.

He made his best attempt to fight you — which wasn't much of a fight at all. You lifted the crimson-soaked tee, wincing as the phantom pain kicked into high gear. The closer you got to a person in pain, the more intensity there was. It was time to use your new abilities by choice. Not one of the scientist's papercuts, not a wound they intentionally inflicted on a lab animal.

Your hands hovered over his inflamed stab wounds, teeth gritted in focus as you knelt next to him. One moment, Soap was delirious from blood loss, sputtering out incomprehensible phrases. The next, the searing in his abdomen reduced to a mild ache.

Then a tickle. And then nothing except the warmth radiating off your fingertips. The stab wounds faded from his flesh right before his eyes.

You had taken away his pain; somehow, in some way.

For a moment, he imagined this was heaven. An angel of mercy escorting him to the high place, though he was always convinced he'd end up in the fiery one. When not blinded by pain, he could finally muster the ability to speak again. "Who are you?" He wanted to ask what you were, but the empathy bleeding from your eyes pulled at his heartstrings. Those eyes; cloudy on the irises. And your sickly features, now filled with more life after healing him.

You were much too drained to answer. It was your first time saving a human in such a critical condition. Healing drained every ounce of energy from you. Before you could answer, he rose to his feet, wrapping one of the stray quilts around your trembling shoulders. "Ye saved my life, it's the least I can do."

Gaz

The raid was by no means straightforward. Nonetheless, it was strange to Gaz how few intel pieces he found. A few files he skimmed, some compelling blueprints — but nothing actionable. Once again, the rules of engagement prevented him from pushing the bounds of the code he followed. Another catastrophe is around the corner with an aloof public, yet there's nothing he can do but follow orders.

But there was more to this facility than met his eyes. Kyle knew it, and his instinct was rarely wrong.

There was a rattle on one of the lower levels, like that of a chair scraping against the floor. A faint scream. Then silence. No gunshots, no explosions, no enemies making callouts, not even his comms alerting him to check that level. It was obvious he was the only one who heard it.

He kept his sidearm raised ahead of him, eyes dancing around the motionless halls of the place. Whatever it was, he was going to find it; with or without following orders. "Anybody down here?" Gaz's own voice echoed off the walls. Still, no sound followed, not while he crept down the flight of stairs. Down the hall, he swept every room, finding nothing and no one once again.

Get out of there, Garrick. There's nothing here.

Price's comm almost swayed him — almost made his shaking hand that was hovering over the last door knob lower. Then he heard another clatter inside the room, one he couldn't ignore, despite his Captain's firm orders to evac.

He could take a serious hit for this, he knew that.

It wouldn't be his first time pushing the limits. Every time he did, he saved someone or something. If he didn't do that this time; he wasn't sure he could handle that weighing on his conscience.

It wasn't an enemy, he would've attacked the Sergeant's weak points by now. Kyle opened the door labeled Observation — his last hope of making this treacherous move worth it. Another shuffle sounded from inside. "If you're in here, show yourself!" The door creaked open as his sidearm remained at the ready, though it quickly dropped to his side when he caught a glimpse of the gruesome scene.

You curled into a ball and let out gasps and whimpers. Around you, a blood trail led up to the body of one of the technicians. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision; you heard the shots, and his hands were on you. You acted on mere impulse, which seemed to be more common after all the experimentations.

Gaz felt like he had dry-swallowed a big pill. You weren't a hostile, not even a scientist. You were some form of maltreated lab rat — one that had finally snapped and didn't know what to do with themselves.

You raised your head from your hands, showing him your face wrinkled with both fright and shock. An obvious adrenaline high, from what he was seeing. Kyle held out a hand, holstering his weapon as he approached slowly. "I'm here to help, alright?" He spoke cautiously, kneeling beside you to meet your crouched level. His hand found your forearm, tracing a hand over the number tattooed on your skin.

The thought was sickening — a human being meddled with, imprisoned in this place for testing. His instincts were proven right again, yet another person he could still save. It was tempting to act on that instinct again, to put up your walls. But this soldier was your last chance at freedom, and whatever half-normal life you might be able to salvage after all this.

His hands found your waist next, guiding you to a standing position. "You stay behind me and you'll get out of here. I promise you." Kyle spoke to you softly, before leading the way out of there. You'd never seen the outside of the observation room, not once in all the time you had been kept there.

He allowed you to cling to him as he retraced his steps, ascending the staircase. Gaz had saved you — point blank. Any longer, and you would've been an abandoned trial by the scientists, or wrongfully executed during the siege.

No amount of paperwork would make this choice any less worth it.

[silassinclair]

Introduction!!

Yandere Ghost x Reader

CW// Suicidal Thoughts, Paranormal Activity, Murder Mention

My other yand OC Maddox was a hit with ya’ll so here’s a short introduction of a new oc!! Hope you like him as much as I do. This is gonna be very boring because it’s an introduction but I’ll make a oneshot right after this one!!

Masterlist!!

“This key unlocks every door in the manor. Except the door to the attic for some reason, but there’s nothing of importance up there. Apparently it’s just some old junk the first owner left.” The agent said with a tight lipped smile. Her matte red lipstick was as bright as a stop sign.

Taking the key from her hand you’re surprised to feel how heavy it is. “Thank you.” You mutter.

“All the legalities are settled so she’s all yours. I recommend blasting that ivy off the side wall of the house though. The roots can mess up the brick.” The agent adds.

“Alright, I appreciate the tip.” You say and shut the door in her face, leaving you alone in your new home.

Maria was a total pain in the ass, like all people who work with selling things. Oh and for the record, you like the ivy that grows on the side of your new home. Makes it look pretty and natural. Anyways, her being gone was like a breath of fresh air. All was good now that you finally had a place to call home.

Your Grandfather died and in the will he left you his summer home in Italy. It was a grand manor that was located on a hilltop surrounded by forrest. It was perfect for your hermit self. Never in your life would you imagine leaving the states to come live in Italy but here you were. After all the manor was handed to you on a silver platter, the offer would be foolish to refuse.

There was nothing for you in the states. Your life was miserable, draining, and filled with nothing but painful repetition. Being worked like a machine and stepped on like a doormat. Having a horrid and overly possessive ex boyfriend who was a serial cheater didn’t help either. You were so close to ending your miserable existence until a woman named Maria gave you a call.

And now you were here, standing in the foyer of your new home. Some work would need to be done. Floors needed polishing, corners dusting, windows wiping. Maybe you should make a checklist?

"This is gonna be a long day.." You think to yourself.

"There she is again. She must be the new owner." I think to myself as I watch the young woman clean the floor.

The past owner, Lorenzo, must have passed away and put the ownership of the manor into this girl's hands. It has been a while since I’ve seen the old man. But did he have to put my home in the hands of some uncultured American? I find this terribly irresponsible of him, I mean look at her!

She's using a bleach based product on the hardwood! Lorenzo was a good owner of the Verona manor. He hired staff to keep it well maintained and he rarely ever visited. But this girl... she's an utter buffoon. Before she can torture the hardwood any longer I swiftly hover behind her and move the bottle a few feet away from her while she isn't looking.

"Huh?" When she reaches for the bottle she finds it has moved away. I snicker at her confused reaction.

"It was just right here..."

She reaches over and grabs it again but before she does I kick it, sending it flying across the foyer and hitting the front door.

“Any minute now she’ll run away screaming, she won’t even look back.” I think to myself with a devious grin.

But when I hover in front of her I only see an annoyed expression on her face.

“Uhm… Did I do something wrong?” She says.

I freeze, is she not afraid? Why was she talking as if she were talking to someone? Can she see me?

“I asked if I did something to upset you.”

And then her eyes move up and look right into mine. For the first time in centuries I feel as if I have ignited, that I am alive and that my heart once again beats like all other human beings.

“You… Can you see me?” I ask hesitantly, afraid that if I may speak too loudly she’ll scamper away like a mouse.

Her soft lips part slightly as she nods.

He told me his name was Dante Verona. He was the original owner of the Verona manor and he comes from an Italian royal family. But he was assassinated centuries ago in this very manor during a masquerade party. So I assume that his spirit is trapped here. He was wearing an intricate black, red, and white Venetian mask that hid his face. He wore matching black and red noble attire and his hair was a curly dark chocolate brown that went down to his neck.

Overall he was a total mystery. His entire existence was perplexing to me. Yes I do believe in the paranormal but never would I think I’d meet a real life ghost.

“I assume your grand father is Lorenzo? Has he passed on?” Dante asks, cutting through the thick silence.

I blink a few times, maybe if I blink hard enough he’ll disappear and that’ll confirm that this was all just my imagination. So I blink, but Dante’s translucent self is still hovering in front of me. The blank expression of his mask makes me slightly uneasy. I couldn’t get a read on the guy at all.

Coughing, I finally answer, “Uhm yeah… He was my grand father. He left me this manor in his will. And he didn’t mention any ghosts or anything like that.” I add.

“Lorenzo couldn’t see me. You’re the first to see me actually.” Dante says. His voice sounded smooth but the mask muffled it slightly. But he also sounded like he was in pain. I wonder how long he’s been here, trapped in this manor.

“So this whole time you were all alone?”

“Yes.” He softly replies. “Just me. Only my spirit is here.”

“That must be hard.” I say, but not in a pitying sounding way. The last thing he wants is pity probably.

Dante hovers away and I follow him into the living room. Looking up I see him hover up to the chandelier. He looks down at me, I can see his dark green irises through the black holes of the mask.

“Every day is hard. God has cursed me, rejected my entry into the heavens.” His voice cracks. "My death occurred in the very room we are in."

I look around the oriental room we are in. It has been modernized over the years, but I can imagine how it looked in his century. The masked party people, music, drinks, lies and deception. All of it in the room we are in but centuries before.

"My killer has not been found but I know they are long dead. Knowing that they burn in hell brings me peace. And I have learned to accept that I am to remain here.”

Then he rambles on about his life story. The tragedies he lived through, the friends he made and lost, wars and battles faced, and lovers went and gone. But I don't mind that this conversation is one sided. He has had no one to talk to for centuries so he deserves a listener.

"I apologize my lady. I have droned on for far too long. It's impolite..." Dante says in a dejected tone. But I reassure him.

"Y-You're okay! I understand. You haven't had someone to talk to in a long time I imagine. Besides, I found your life story very interesting."

Dante hovers down to where I'm sat on the couch. He also sits beside me. Leaning in close he tilts his masked face to the side as he comes closer to mine. I move away slightly; his body emits an eerie chill.

"Tell me about you. What is your name?" He asks, his eyes twinkle with an emotion unknown to me.

"I'm Y/n L/n. I originally lived in the United States, but I moved here as you know." I mutter. I've never been one to talk a lot anyways.

Dante looks me up and down. His fingers reach out causing me to flinch back, but he goes to touch the fabric of my black dress rather than my skin. To my surprise his fingers can touch the fabric, they don’t phase through it.

"Why do you wear black? Are you a widow? Has your husband passed on?" He asks softly.

I feel myself giggle slightly and he looks up at me with probably a confused expression.

"I've never been married silly, I'm only 23 years old.”

Dante’s emerald eyes widen. “23 and unmarried? Has the societal norm changed? Because my sister was married off to her husband when she was 16.”

I cringe physically. “Oooh yeah, lots of things have changed. But also I’m wearing black because it’s just my style. It’s called goth, it’s a music based style. I can tell you about it sometime.”

Dante looks at me like I’ve grown three heads. I can see it in his eyes.

“Ahem- Anyways. Why do you wear that mask?” I ask.

Dante breaks the eye contact and looks down at the side. “It does not come off. No matter how hard I try to remove it, it only stays. I cannot remove the clothing either.”

I nod. “Is it because it was the last thing you wore before you died?”

He nods in return.

“I assume so.”

He moves closer to me ever so slightly. His gloved hands caress my h/c locks of hair and then he brushes his fingers across my cheeks and jawline.

“What are you doing?” I ask breathlessly.

Dante’s hooded eyes shine with an emotion I cannot read. But I feel like my life from this day forward will never be the same. Can the living and the dead co exist?

Dante Verona. Will we be able to share the same roof?

[quotidian-oblivion]

ghost au s'il vous plait 👀

Writer fic ask game

OH HO HO HO

So.

The ghost AU is one of my pride and joys of angst. Because! Because because because!

Tim somehow winds up at the warehouse where Jason was with Joker (still gotta figure out the finer details) and he gets caught by Joker. Joker has his time with them ugh and Batman's still running but-

The timer beeps.

Everything explodes.

In the few seconds though, Jason and Tim grow attached (shared trauma etc etc). And when they die, they open their eyes to see their bodies in front of them and their ghost auras still hugging each other.

Cue the rest of the fic! It includes Tim and Jason ghost watching Batman, Nightwing, Batgirl and Alfred after the Drakes don't seem overly concerned. It includes the two figuring out their ghost abilities. Coming up with shenanigans. Comforting each other when their living loved one is suffering. Until-

Until one day, the sky flashes a great bolt of lightning. And Jason's ghost starts pulling itself back into the grave.

*poof*

And a new storyline begins.

Tim attaches himself as Red Hood's ghost, but Jason doesn't seem to remember any of his ghost memories. Tim gets involved with Lazarus Pits, Ra's Al Ghul, cameras, possession, a certain baby assassin and...

The Joker. He's back.

[Insert dramatic trailer outro]

XD

As you can see! I have a vision! I can't wait to get started on writing this lol