#and ghost tells him that it's not a healthy way to think and they work on that

[papurgaatika]

Keep A Leftover Light Burning

Pairing: joel miller x Ceramicist! reader

MINORS DNI WITH MY WORKS PLEASE !!

A/N: howdy howdy and welcome all now this is a very special fic for @burntheedges for the @pedrostories secret santa event!! I hope you like it and find it as fun as i did. I think this isnt a trope that we see very often, but after a healthy dose of tiktoks (and watching the scene from ghost again) this came into being. As always thank you to my beloveeeeeeed @carlynkurin for beta reading, and peace and love on the planet earth from me, xoxo Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!! tags: Ceramicist reader, smut, porn with plot, oral (f! receiving), publicish sex, strangers to lovers, lots of wet clay, joels arms require their own tag Word count: 3.4k Summary: Sarah forces joel to go take a day to himself, pushing him in the direction of your pottery studio. Despite calling yourself professional and priding yourself on your morals, you can’t help but… fantasize about the man in front of you. 

Joel needs to take time for himself. He’s always on, always ready to go at the flip of a switch,  never taking time to sit and breathe. Everyone knows how hard he works, and despite what he says, Sarah knows that he needs to do something calming. Something that doesn’t involve carving wood or going to the shooting range with Tommy on the off chance that both of them are free for long enough. So being the perfect daughter that she is, she enrolls him in a ceramics workshop that she had gone to once. It was a small studio, tucked away next to the Palace Theatre in downtown Georgetown, soft and quaint in the suburbs, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Sarah managed to get a hold of you over the phone and explain the situation, a smile threatening to creep onto your cheeks at the sheer amount of care she had for her father. You tell her not to worry about the price and that you would stay open for an extra hour next weekend just to get him in, a squeal on the other side is all the confirmation you need as you pencil it into your schedule. 

Sunday rolls around and Joel… Well, he was being Joel. Stubborn and groaning as Sarah essentially pushes him out the door to make the drive up IH-35, complaining about “I build things for a living,” and “it’ll be a waste of time.” but Sarah is hearing none of it and one look from her has Joel slipping on his boots. In any other circumstance, he would have praised her for holding her ground, but right now he just sighs and gets into his truck realizing just how much of his stubbornness had rubbed off on her. 

He ends up at the studio just before 5, the sun starting to dip under the horizon, casting beautiful pinks and oranges around the sky. He’s still bitching and moaning as he makes his way to the building, taking a deep breath as he steps inside. You barely even hear the jingle of the little bell above your door, too busy fighting with your sink: now clogged with clay from your last class with 3 kids under ten who didn't understand that when you told them not to dump clay inside the sink. You had meant it. “Fucking thing!” you groan, poking a paintbrush into the drain, hoping to get enough clay out of it so that it would run again. 

Joel stares at you, half confused and half amused with the scene in front of him; your hair a mess, your apron covered in clay and paint, hacking into your sink in ways that he knows won't do you any good. He clears his throat after watching you struggle for about 30 seconds, stifling a smirk when you jump and look back at him. “Need some help? I’m s’possed to have a class now- my daughter-” he shakes his head at the idea of sharing the whole story again “Did I get the wrong time?” 

You look absolutely mortified, dropping the paintbrush in the basin and giving the man in front of you a weak smile “No! No, I just got a little... occupied… you’re on time” You wipe your hands on the front of your apron, not even bothering to attempt to fix your hair, before walking over to greet him. Properly this time. “You must be Joel. Your daughter was very persuasive on the phone.” 

Joel’s smirk shifts into a full-blown smile at the mention of Sarah, the pride he has for the girl shining through. “Yeah, she’s a good one.” he praises. Despite his reluctance to listen to her advice, he knows just how good her heart is, and how much she cares about him. I “Ain't sure what she told ya, and to be honest she hasn't told me what I'm s’possed to be doing here either”

You can't help but smile at his words, the pure adoration for his daughter combined with the slight nervousness in his voice was endearing in ways you weren’t sure how to describe. “No worries, I promise it isn’t anything scary.” You glance around the studio. Outside, the sky had begun to darken, the soft lighting of the different lamps inside the building casting the both of you in a warm glow. The glaze on the ceramics you had on display was a wide assortment of colors: intricately painted motifs, bright splashes of colors, silly cartoons, almost anything you could think of. You pick up a faded apron and hand it to him, watching him stretch as he puts it on. A brief flicker of guilt passes through you as you ogle him, but then you see the way his biceps strain against the fabric of his shirt and the guilt gives way to something primitive. 

He turns back around and you look away with a cough, a slight warmth creeping up your cheeks when he raises his brows at you. “Right um-” you stumble over your words, more unrefined than you would have liked to be “Sorry, sorry. We’ll start with choosing what you’ll want to make. I always recommend something easy, like a bowl or a spoon rest..” you pick up a pencil cup that had been painted to look like a pencil and a spoon rest that was a simple blue color, to show him “I already have the clay prepped so we can get started straight on th-” 

Joel cuts you off as he glances around the studio, pointing at a lidded cookie jar “That one.” His words leave no room for argument but certainly bring questions up to the surface. “I'm gonna do that one.” You had been making ceramics for years, starting with air-dry clay in school, continuing to use the wheel throughout university, and eventually quitting your day job to start the studio. You knew the skill level it took to make a jar, the precision and technique to keep it balanced, and it just wasn’t a beginner project. 

“I'm sorry, the cookie jar?” You try not to let your voice betray your disbelief. It wasn't that you lacked faith in the man in front of you, you made sure to be confident in all of your clients, it was simply an issue of skill. “I don't know if that’s the one for you to start out with, it’s a little advanced-” 

But Joel was having none of it. If he was going to be forced to sit here and make something to “calm him down” then damn it it was going to be something that takes skill and effort. Something that he could bring home to Sarah and brag about slightly. Was it a little strange that he wanted to one-up his daughter and prove that he didn't need to be here? Maybe a little bit, but he didn't dwell on it. “Yes ma'am.” His voice is set in the decision. “I'm sure it can't be that bad, let me at it.” 

Never one to truly tell people no, you simply nod and get the prepared clay out. It was soft and slippery, staining your hands a taupe color as you brought it to the wheel, plopping it down on the wheel, and pressing down on the sides to make sure it stuck. “Alright, so with the jar..” you gesture for him to take a seat in front of the wheel, moving to stand behind him “It’ll be a little bit more involved than something simple, but you're in good hands I promise.” Your words are soft, and frankly, you were excited. You didn't throw fun projects with clients as much as you’d like to anymore, focusing more on teaching the basics, so this was honestly a welcomed surprise. “We’ll just start with getting the basic shape of it, you’ll take your hands like this, and we’ll work it up.” 

You sit on your stool behind him, usually, you’d be able to reach around and help with hand placement but good god was he broad. You adjust and readjust your position a few times, finding it oddly difficult to find the right mix between comfort and functionality, eventually ending up with your legs spread a little bit past their comfort level, so that you could lean over his shoulder and help him with the shaping. You squeeze some water onto his hands, moving them to cup the base of the clay and pop the wheel to life. His hands were big under your smaller ones, the roughness contrasting both the soft clay and your skin. You can't help but feel a twinge of something stirring inside you as you help him bring the clay up and down, your hands guiding his. Joel’s brows were knit together in concentration, both endearing and attractive as you watched him focus on the clay. The movements of his hands under yours were careful, almost hesitant, his eyes peeking back at you every so often for assurance. 

Once the clay was at an appropriate size you moved your hands off of his, the wheel slowing to a stop. You swear that you see his hands twitch to stay under yours, but your mind might be playing tricks on you. “Now call me unartistic but this ain't really lookin’ like a cookie jar yet.” Joel raises his brows, a slight hint of teasing hidden in his southern drawl, and you can’t help but snort at the comment.

“I will not call you unartistic, it isn't supposed to look like a jar yet.” You hum and wipe your hands on your apron “We’ll do the lid to it later, but you have to actually make it into a bowl first.” your thumbs gently press down onto the center of the clay to form a soft dent. The wheel starts back up again slowly and you start to open the center up a little bit. “Right so now you just gotta take your thumbs like I did and- perfect!” Joel manages to press his fingers slowly against the clay, working it open, and god you wished that was you more than anything at that moment. You press on the sponge, the water dripping down his hand and onto the clay, almost sensually. Your eyes are locked on the way his thumb dips into the clay, the way the clay comes up onto his skin. Your mouth is dry, and you cough as you stand up, needing to take a deep breath and try to compose yourself. 

“Everythin’ alright?” Joel's voice rings out from behind you as you move to take a drink of water, and you swear if his voice was just a tinge deeper, you would have choked right then and there. In the rush of getting up, your brain had ceased to realize that moving off the pedal would stop the wheel from turning.

You feel like an idiot. A stupid, hormonal, completely unprofessional idiot. You take a moment to scold yourself mentally before turning around to face him again. “Yeah, yes. Sorry I just realized how thirsty I was, I just needed water.” You move back to your stool behind him, halfway composed, and move to start the next step. If you'd been in front of him for one more second, you would have seen the knowing smile on his face. There was no denying the attraction between the two of you. Pressed up against each other, hands touching, dim light surrounding you both, it was inevitable. You move your hand to show him the right finger position “so you’ll want to take your middle and ring finger-” You press the two of yours inside of the bowl to give him an example and you swear he laughs a little bit. 

“Oh, believe me, darlin” his voice rings out, big fingers expertly finding their way into the exact position. “I know all about this one.” You watch his fingers glide up and down the inside of the bowl, your hand on top of his, steadying his wrist. You bite at your lip, fingers shaking slightly on top of his. Your chest was pressed against his back and you could feel your nipples hardening. You were annoyingly turned on. This wasn’t normal for you, this wasn't something you do, get the hots for a client, but here you were. And with the way Joel's fingers were methodically moving over yours, you were begging that he felt the same way. “Wouldn’t mind showin’ ya all I know about it.” The want in his voice makes you clench subconsciously, your breath faltering for a second. 

You hold your breath for a moment as if trying to make sure you hadn’t imagined his words in a haze of horniness, only to be broken out of that haze when he shifts and pushes his stool back, and turns around to face you. Both of your hands were covered in wet clay and your aprons were messy, neither of which stopped you from pressing your lips against his. You sigh against his mouth as your hand's fist in the fabric of his shirt, staining the fabric with readily drying clay. “I don't usually do this,” you murmur when you pull away for air, your lips swollen and red. 

Joel just grins at your words “S’alright, honey,” his lips find their way to your jaw and move down to your neck, his nose nudging at the fabric of your shirt. “Don't gotta explain anything to me.” His voice is like molasses, smooth and syrupy, keeping you stuck on his every word. You let him move you around, the small wooden stools were less than ideal for either of you. In the mess of standing up and finding a table to bend over your shirt comes off and he groans at the sight of you, his hands grabbing at your waist, staining your skin with water. “Good god… sight for sore eyes…” You can't help but flush slightly at his comment, feeling more exposed while you stare at his fully clothed figure.

 Joel picks up on it, his hands moving from your waist to his shirt and apron, a frustrated noise leaving his mouth when the knotted strings keep him from taking it off. “Let me,” you whisper, reaching around to undo the strings, the fabric of the apron sagging and then getting tossed to some other corner of the room. You stare at him. You couldn't not stare at him. At the hair covering his chest leading down to his belt, the soft yet strong features of his body, at his hand undoing his belt. Your own shorts had been removed, your hands moving to reach into his jeans until he stopped you, a pout and protest forming on your lips. 

Joel just shakes his head at you, picking you up and setting you on a relatively clean table, his body wedged between your legs. “My momma raised me to be a gentleman,” he hums against your skin, kissing the tops of your breasts, nudging your nipples with his nose before giving each of them their own kisses “I didn't take ya to dinner, at least let me get my fill yeah?” Your back fully arched into his mouth as his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, hands gripping the edge of the table so hard your knuckles were white. The feeling of his tongue flicking against the hardened bud had you moaning out in ways you had never imagined you would, and you swear you could feel him smirk even as he licked a stripe down the soft skin of your tummy. 

His knees crack as he settles between your legs and the sight of him is so sinful you can't help but moan softly. He raises his brows at you, a warm chuckle leaving his mouth at the sound, his lips pressing against the inside of one of your thighs “Look that good?” His voice is laced with a gentle mocking as he presses another kiss, a hair's breadth away from your aching cunt “think I got the better view though.” You don't even have the time, nor the brainpower, to reply before his lips press against you, a groan vibrating against your skin as he tastes you. “Sweetest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever had… could get damn addicted.” 

Your lips are parted as his tongue swirls around your clit, your whines and moans spurring him on even further. “F-fuck joel-” you manage at some point, his broad shoulders keeping your thighs spread apart, despite how much they’d like to clamp around him. He was good at this and he knows that, moaning at the sound of his name on your lips, the words giving him a newfound energy. You feel his warm palms against your thighs keeping you spread open for him, and you almost whine when his tongue leaves your clit, only to cry out in ecstasy when his tongue prods at your pulsing hole. His nose is pressed up against your clit, giving you just the right amount of friction as he gathers your slick on his tongue, cycling between fucking it into you and laying it flat over your cunt. “Joel- joel oh fuck-” Your moans are frantic as he continues to send you closer and closer to that edge, his motions only getting faster as your hand fists in his hair. “Oh my god- fuck fuck fuuuuck-” your legs shake around his head, his hands keeping them apart as he works you through your orgasm, not stopping until you were spent and hazy, laying back on the table with shuddering breaths. 

Your eyes were pressed shut, chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of your orgasm, only to peek open when you hear the clink of his belt. His mouth was covered in the sheen of your orgasm, a hungry look in his eyes as he spits into his hand and pulls his cock out. “Tasted like a damn dream,” he groans while he strokes himself. “Gonna remember this forever…” Your eyes are locked on the motions of his wrist, the steady pace, the pearly precum that was leaking from his tip. “Fuckin’ perfect… makin’ me feel like a damn teenager again.” You wait with bated breath as he continues to stroke himself, wiggling your hips in order to entice him. 

 “Joel,” your voice is soft, but so heavily full of need it was almost painful “Please… I want you.” If you were being honest, you thought that it would take more convincing, that you would have to ask more, but Joel was desperate, maybe more so than you were and so when he sinks his cock into your dripping cunt it was ecstasy for both of you. Your eyes fall shut again at the feel of him, the stretch so much but so good. “Oh my god…” you whine, pushing yourself onto him further, your breathing stuttering when one of his hands palms at your breast, the other one gripping your hip with so much strength you think it would leave a mark. 

“That’s it…” he groans, slipping into you all the way. “Fuckin’ perfect pussy, like she was made for me.” His words are punctuated with shallow thrusts that fill you up again and again. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in closer to you. The feeling of his hips pressing against yours is something you would never be able to get out of your memory. 

You both lay there, bodies pressed against each other, his hips rocking into you slow and steadily, the dim lighting of the studio casting an ethereal glow over the scene. His hips move at a steady pace, keeping you full of him as the coarse hairs around him press against your clit with the right amount of friction. It doesn't take much time until he's panting on top of you, your lips pressed against each other's in a heated kiss as you feel him spill inside you. 

“That was…” you were breathless, his chest still against yours, the rhythm of your hearts syncing up. 

“Yeah…” He grins, pressing a kiss against your forehead gently. “I know I told ya I was a gentleman but, I really would like to see you again… of course no pressure if you don't want to or anything-” 

You cut him off with a small laugh before he can keep going, nudging your head against his. “I want to, Joel.” You smile gently at him “Plus, you didn't finish the jar.” You grin, looking in the direction of the unfinished work of art he had started. “And then I have to fire it, then glaze it, then fire it again, then… well you get the point, I think I’ll be seeing you quite a few more times, Joel.”

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free

READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE;  HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. Silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist.

PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS. 

Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

[natelia-aldelliz]

After the Chicago mission ! (Soap probably asks Ghost to close the curtains after that)

[yandere-kokeshi]

We need to know how separate TF-141 would be as house-husbands!!! Please!!!

— Yandere headcanons of TF-141 as house-husbands

Warnings: Yandere behavior, older! characters, male gender roles, NSFW, slight delusional behaviors.

A/N: Anon, you are SO, so smart. I love you /a.

Captain “Price” John:

The type of house-husband nobody expected for him to be– not even himself. John had partially agreed to it, and now he’s a stay-at-home dad for your cats. When he wedded you, he never thought of it this way; and now, he had promised to always care for you, did he not?

Price is well over-tired, pretty hairy and massive; beard scratchy and face all squishy; he’s a chubby man. But that doesn’t stop him at all.

John loves waking you up in the mornings. Before even shaking you awake, he loves to admire you. Watching your different breathing patterns, some dribbles of drool, and the obvious bed marks staining your face makes him smirk. But of course, it ends too short when he realizes you need to get up.

John is so, oh gentle, when waking you up. Scarred hands rubbing at your hips as he rubs his beard into your shoulder, prepping kisses and telling you to get a move on. However, if you ignore him, he’s more than happy to leave some permanent marks, yes?

He always makes your breakfast and lunch the night before, chopping the meat, fruits, and vegetables into the correct order so he can easily sleep in with you till you leave. So, when your alarm goes off, he detaches himself from you, getting up with only his red boxers– turning on the oven to preheat the food yet again and leaving them on the table for you to enjoy when you get out of the shower.

And with that, he takes your health seriously, mentally and physically, which means most foods in the house are pretty healthy. All types of fruits, veggies, protein, and fiber nourishment is given with each meal, and he expects you to eat it all. 

When shopping, he takes everything seriously. He hates getting off track, only sticking to what’s on the list, and cashiers who take too long on talking– especially if they openly flirt with him. Can’t you see I'm taken? He snarks out, showing off his wedding ring before fast walking out towards his car with his hands full.

Chores are chores. They need to be done. Dishes are easy, laundry, and vacuuming are a piece of cake. But cleaning the bathroom? Oh, that’s a bit difficult. Especially with the hidden camera he’s put out of your sight, and at times, he gets distracted; watching the many films, seeing you all naked and wet, makes Price feel... a sudden urge. How are you just so gorgeous, hm?

John is the definition of a “Pro Loyalty Card”. For all those stores he visits, he has cards for each and every single one of them, including the convenience store. They always come in handy.

Routines are his specialty; he knows everything about your schedule, to the time you leave for work, to when you call him at your lunch break, come home and collapse in his lap, all the way to sleeping in the bed naked. He’s memorized it all. 

After the long antagonizing and stressful week, John always sits you down for a long bath. He massages your shoulders, using a special lotion to rub on you after the bath. But, that’s not the only gift he's giving. Before gently and lovingly pushing you to the bed, he slowly fucks the stress and irritation of you; teeth makes ensuring you stay loyal to your man.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Simon is quick and sleek with shopping, getting and seeking foods that have high nutrition because you only deserve the best. Most foods he picks out are healthy, getting many baskets of fruits to ensure you enjoy your lunches. But when passing by the sugar aisle, he can’t help but choose a few sweets for you. 

A type of house-husband you’d never expect. He’s brooding, shoulders kept tight, wearing a black mask and hoodie as he sulks in the grocery aisles, holding the colored basket. You’d think he’s stealing with a gun hidden in his back pocket. However, when in reality, he’s taking his house duties extremely seriously as he eyes for the cereal aisle.

He wakes up way early, even before you start to stir awake, even before the sun rises and goals himself to get a good workout in. Even though he’s not the same lieutenant as he was years ago– he’s not lazy, and still picks up his pace whilst jogging down the street and doing push-ups in the open garage. 

At times, he wishes you could join him, and it would be fun, would it not? Having you down below, as his chest presses against yours and your flushed face being the main goal for him to continue? Or maybe, him guiding you through pull-ups, and you need his help? Oh, that’s how to make him very desperate for you in the early mornings. 

Speaking of early mornings, when you rise with his gentle shaking, whispers of “good mornin’”, and his rough stubble rubbing your neck, you realize just how lucky you are. Especially with how Riley joins in, when he notices his second favorite human is up and awake. 

Though, if you decide to ignore these two, covering your face and mumbling away, Simon will crawl over you, prep your face with sloppy kisses, and murmur hot and dirty words. His hand instinctively crawling down, snapping the band of your underwear, nails barely scratching at your skin whilst promising to get you all hot and messy, before forcing you out of bed. 

When you leave out of that door, regardless of the morning, he ensures the house is spotless before you come home. He doesn’t listen to any music, only the occasional barks from Riley as he sprays the leather couches, doing the dishes the “old-fashioned way”, and folding laundry like it’s a race. 

Most are scared of him– except for that one lady down the road. Her eyes follow Simon as if he’s a god, but he scoffs at that when she twirls her hair. You’re the real deity, he openly thinks. Of course, he shows off his pretty wedding ring, the one you got him; and somehow, Simon wishes you’d just make out with him in public, show her that he’s off limits and that he’s yours. 

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:

The type of househusband who immediately recognized that you needed to be cared for, and went forth with that promise between the marriage. You work so hard to make money for the both of you. And he’s devoted to doing whatever he can to be helpful too. 

Kyle is a clean freak, which means the house is nearly spotless when you come home. Every scratch at the couch has him grunting and hands vigorously trying to rub it off. Shoes inside the house are immediately put up, and he hates rainy days; looking at you with glaring pupils as you step inside with soaked coverings. But, he loves you. 

The chores in the house are easily done before the afternoon, dishes cleaned with shiny marks and the floors vacuumed. Dusting and sweeping the house with headphones on, face flushed whilst… listening to among things he’d never want you to find out. 

Laundry is always last in line, as he tends to “borrow” a good deal of dirty underwear of yours, smelling them intensely. Don’t worry though, he returns them at some point. 

Kyle is the definition of “wifey material food”. Every breakfast consists of incredible fried eggs, mixed with bacon and fluffy pancakes; lunch and dinner being different every day, which is nice. He usually sticks with foods you’re comfortable with, never going out of your zone, and tries his hardest to make different sizes of hearts out of the food. 

Though, you never seem to notice the secret ingredient, the divine particular part where the two of you are bonded stronger. Such shame, he utters. Sometimes he wishes you’d come home early– catch him desperately adding it within the dish with utter lewd excitement. 

Having you come home is the best time of the day. Waiting by the door, wearing the cactus green apron you got him years ago, with a giant smile and dinner laid out, waiting for you. By the end of dinner, you’re full; both of love, and much suffocation of affection. 

All the other housewives in the area love him. They often invite him for yoga, or work-out sessions. But, he usually uses the excuse that you need him. You do, don't you?

Every Friday, he wears and shows off certain gifts he feels that you’ll love. You work so hard for the both of you, so he should show his appreciation, should he not? Wearing all types of risqué clothing, leaving desperate messages, and having lingerie hidden underneath his black vest, coloring his skin and outlining his scars, stretch marks, and moles. Sooner or later, it leads to a heavy cuddle-sex session that he knows you’ll love. 

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:

The type of househusband who uses his pretty eyes and sculpted body, to get his way. Everything from seeing you at your working office and past your lunch break, to getting free food samples, all the way to a book full of coupons and all types of gifts for half the percentage. 

He’s amazing at picking food at the grocery outlet, picking up the correct portions of proper protein, vegetables, and iron. And sometimes, sneaking a few donuts, pops, and tubs of ice cream he knows you love. 

Johnny always wakes you up, the alarm rarely shaking you as your beloved husband knows your schedule by heart. He ensures your breakfast and lunch are ready by 7am, smirking at the added secret ingredients that he only knows. 

He’s more lenient with waking you up. Knowing how you like to sleep, beauty sleep he corrects, Johnny tries to let you snooze in as far as you can, before gently stirring you up as the sun rises in the opened window. 

His arms snake around your waist, cuddling up behind you whilst pulling you into his warm chest, as he nibbles on your ear and tells you to start getting up; breakfast is served on the table with awaited love. Though, if his sweet honey voice doesn’t work at this time, maybe some extremely sloppy oral will help, no? 

Johnny ensures that everybody knows you’re lovingly taken. Those hickeys and bruises on your arms, and neck show just how loveable he is. He boasts about you all the time, to his then-team, cashiers and ladies on the streets. It’s only expected you do the same, yes? 

Housewives and other househusbands either love him, or envy him. He’s pretty– too alluring to just be at home and caring for duties. Most women, and men constantly flaunt at his grown-out mohawk, often slicked back into a small bun and a few scars, especially one on his head, that prominent his face. 

He’s still in shape, working out in the early mornings and doing yoga with the other moms; who he regularly drinks coffee with. They love how sweet and handsome the man is, especially towards his spouse. 

Anyone would be lucky to have him, and many would trade a lifetime for him. But, he’s not going anywhere, not without you or your yummy neck anytime soon. 

—

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© yandere-kokeshi 2024 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[angel5ofp0rn]

thinking about the 141 as daddies of babies with afro hair 🙂‍↕️

Gaz would know the basics, naturally, and would take the extra time to make sure his babies always have their hair right. he reminds them how beautiful their hair is and how important it is to take the extra time and care to keep it healthy. if you’re not used to caring for their hair type, he’s very patient in teaching you the basics and hypes you up every time you do their hair on your own.

Price would shyly stumble into a black salon and ask for tips and tutorials on how to care for his children’s hair. he’d make sure he had all the right tools, products, accessories, etc. and make sure he knows how to use them. he does a piss poor job at styling it, and you always end up having to fix it anyway, but at least he tries.

Soap goes all in. he has his babies sat in front of him, and a youtube tutorial in front of them both, and he’s putting in the work. tongue sticking out as he braids and twists and, surprisingly, it turns out better than anyone expected— except him. he was confident from the get go. now it’s your turn, bonnie; boho braids or knotless box braids? i saw a lass earlier with her hair like this—

Ghost is standing by the shampoo bowl, arms crossed, at his children’s biweekly hair appointment telling the hairdresser that money is no object, just make his babies happy. he’s stocking up on bonnets, silk pillow cases, whateverthefuck that is that makes their hair smell so good and makes his li’l girl’s curls look shiny, the way she likes. he has their ipads charged up for their long appointments and is going in and out of the salon to fetch various snacks and drinks for the kids and the hairstylists taking care of them.

[sleepy-grav3]

The Moon Child Part 2

Part 1

A/n: Wow. I posted the first part to this and you guys like- rushed to it like starving animals holy SHIT... Should I be scared???? anyway- here ya go

Summary: Danny meets the Aqua Family and gets the love he deserves, plus a little comfort.

Tw: hurt/comfort, bad parents, mentioned discrimination, angst, ghost animal cruelty, swears, objectification, fluff

I forgot to mention Danny goes by he/they pronouns, Atlanteans know a lot of animals, and gender is weird sometimes so they aren't assuming anything and that's fair since Danny could shapeshift if he wants

The Moon Child Part 2 - The Moon Loves the Sea

Warm. He felt warm while in his core. And he could feel the soft cushion he was placed on. He heard the stories that Aquaman Arthur would tell him about all of his adventures and the rambles about his family. He was even told the secret about his stepbrother, Orm, who's death was faked and now lived on land.

It was... nice. Safe. He hadn't felt so loved in a long time. Or, at least, he thinks he hasn't. He had lost track of time while in the labs. It was painful to think about. Visibly so. Apparently, when he drifted into those dreadful terrors, his core's soft light would flicker into a dimmer one which resonated with his sobs. Arthur or his wife, who would keep him beside them at all times, would pick him up each time and hold him close to their heart.

"It's alright" They would say. "You're safe now."

Their heartbeat would always calm him down. It pulsed out reassuring feelings with each beat of their hearts. It was soothing and he never felt so safe. Not even when he was alive. To think he needed to die to feel this way.

It took a while for the pain to finally go away, but he soon felt ready to come out of his core. He couldn't recuperate as much as he wanted to. Not to use his full abilities of his ghost powers. No, there wasn't a massive supply of ambient ectoplasm like in Amity. He learned that what he was absorbing the most was the magic, which acted as a saline solution to blood (which he was pretty sure his blood was fully ectoplasm now).

It was interesting how magic tied in with ectoplasm. He wondered if that's why summoning worked best for those in the realms for that reason. Maybe the specific rituals to summon them even tied closely with their ecto-signatures? It's an interesting thought really.

That isn't the point though. What is, is that he was healthy enough to come out of his core.

"Ok, Danny. Deep breath. Here we go-"

-

Arthur was doing his usual thing: struggling to wake up in the morning and only really doing it because he didn't want to worry the literal spirit of a god. And it's not even because they're a god, but because they're a child. Should he have kept them in the same room. He feels like that might've been a better choice than just leaving them in a room next to his.

Arthur shook his head, rubbing his eyes as he swung his legs over the edge only to jump at the cold feeling of the floor.

"All kinds of water magic and they still can't stop the floor from being cold."

He huffed, getting up and picking out some casual wear that didn't have a bunch of jewelry with protection runes. Some normal clothes to hang out with family.

Kaldur came back yesterday, so they're having breakfast together. He hoped that he'd believe the whole moon deity thing. Kaldur was pretty good and believing new things, but this was their main religion they're talking about. Religion is iffy, or at least it was for those on land. The ocean folk are... extremely loyal.

Should he worry about them trying to destroy the new moon...?

He shook his head. No, they probably couldn't get past the layers of the atmosphere. Hopefully.

He walked out of the door, now thinking about how sea creatures would even pull that off before knocking on the door of the room next to his.

"It is uh, me. Again." It never sounds less awkward. Maybe I should try adding the dramatics?

And with a twist and push, he opened the door only to freeze with widening eyes. The stone wasn't there.

"Oh my god- I lost-"

Only to hear a chirp. he flinched, attention darting over to the full body mirror on the other side of the door that pushed into the room. A door he was going to have fixed to avoid heart attacks like these.

He let out a huge sigh of relief, walking over and bending down with a crooked grin.

"Well, good morning. I didn't expect you to appear for a while. But hey! Perfect timing! Kaldur's going to be joining us during breakfast today, so we could introduce you guys! We could meet Orm soon too! I bet he'll be absolutely surprised!"

The child only looked at him with their big wide doe eyes. Hope sparked in them, but anxiety kept their body tense.

"You... You were serious about it? About me meeting your family?"

Arthur placed a hand on their shoulder, he could barely notice the cool temperature of their body before he saw them jump. He was going to pull away his hand, but then the child relaxed a bit more. It was as if they hadn't had affectionate physical contact in a long time.

"Have they ever been anything but a moon? Are all moons like this? What about other planets? Earth... we have so much pollution. If it were alive..., would it only just barely be clinging?"

"Yes, I was and still am. You're a part of it now for as long as we live. And even when we pass, you will continue to have a place in the ocean. You might not have realized this, but the ocean worships you like a god. In fact, I think I'm going to have to talk with the Justice League about offering an apology gift of some sort."

The child blinked, eyes wide and glistening as a layer of moisture sparkled more yet made the eye look foggy. Looking closer, Arthur could see how moonstones came to be when they cried. It would hurt if it was a literal stone the kid cried. Like- like kidney stones! He was thankful that it wasn't like that.

"You... You aren't scared of me being dangerous to them? You don't think I'm evil or non-sentient?"

Arthur blinked. What?

"No... Nobody- Why would anybody think that?"

The child pursed his lips into a thin line, averting his eyes. With each blink, a silvery white liquid would start to drip and condense to the moonstones he found.

"I... don't know how things work around here... But on land... I've... They don't respect the dead or those associated to the concept. I've tried to keep both sides from trying to destroy the other- but... but..."

Arthur took a breath, pulling the spirit into his arms into a tight embrace. They clung to their veil that was wrapped around their arms like a shawl.

It seems that he had some lore to read up upon and some things to investigate.

-

(This bit's about Danny's POV. It'll be continuing with his while he meets everyone)

Danny didn't know what to think when he looked at himself in the mirror earlier. He didn't have a shirt, but the scarf thing was comfy. He could make it into some kind of make-shift shirt if he wanted to too. His memory on how to do it was... foggy and fractured. Some parts of speech were muffled and what he saw from that time would blur or seemed made up.

He knew the person teaching him.

Why can't he remember them clearly? He could hear whispers of something in his head telling him who that was.

And when he pushed that thought aside, he'd look back at other memories and realize who that was.

Tucker. How could he ever forget about Tucker? Why was he forgetting him?

What made it worse was how much he had to stare at the damn mirror to get the knots right. His chest... it wasn't ever that clean. No Lichtenberg scars. No burns, no cuts, no incision scars. Nothing. It was clean of any of his failures. His struggles. His learning experiences.

And yet... he still imagined them being there. Each time his fingers would brush up against places where he knew scars should've been, a shot of pain would spike as if he'd been electrocuted.

It hurt.

He hated how he remembered.

He hated that he didn't.

He used to remember all of it. He did when he was sobbing for days on end.

Now, it was foggy. Now, it was hidden away. He couldn't reach it.

"Oh my god- I lost-"

He chirped in surprise, turning with widened eyes. Oh. It's just Arthur. I really need to get out of my head.

Arthur walked over, looking slightly drained, as if he was relieved of a sudden weight placed on his shoulders. And by the vibes, Danny's guess seemed right.

Relieved Happy Happy Excited Nervous Happy

He was always so cheery in the... well, what seemed to be the day. Sucks to be out now that he thought about it. It would be rude to just fall asleep at random now that they could physically see if he's awake or not.

Arthur greeted him warmly, cheerily saying how he didn't expect him to come out of his core as if the event was a surprise gift. That... was confusing to say the least. It's easier to have a pet rock than a guest. Now he has to feed him to be polite, or at least offer. He has the room covered since the beginning. It was a really big room. A waste for something someone like him.

He felt his body freeze and start muffling sounds when Arthur started mentioning Kaldur and Orm. His family. Close ones, from the stories he would tell.

M4Dd13 and J4Ck would never allow strangers near him, much less Jazz.

"You... You aren't scared of me being dangerous to them?" He couldn't stop the questions from slipping out even when his expression shifted. "You don't think I'm evil or non-sentient?"

He doesn't even know how he could even think of himself as otherwise. He could remember the custom-made, high voltage tasers that targets his ecto-signature itself until he acted how they expected him to. How they wanted him to.

His eyesight became extremely cloudy. It was similar to the green he'd see before he would start crying after he couldn't cry water anymore.

Ghosts... Ghosts cry ectoplasm. What... What was he crying? What is he now? He was- Why wasn't he gone? He was Ended, wasn't he? They got rid of his heart and crushed his core to determine the durability- there wasn't a way to come back from that.

So why was he alive?

Why can't he-

"-think that?"

Shit- he wasn't paying attention.

Danny couldn't bare to look at the man, guilt eating away at him.

"I... don't know how things work around here..."

He could barely register that it was his voice.

"But on land... I've..."

Why was he still touching his shoulder?

Why isn't he disgusted?

Why isn't he scared?

Why isn't he angry?

"They don't respect the dead or those associated to the concept. I've tried to keep both sides from trying to destroy the other- but... but..."

But they destroyed me instead.

It was all for nothing.

Why didn't he listen to the Ancients?

Why did he just kill people?

They already expected him to do so anyway.

So why didn't he?

He couldn't feel the hug he was pulled into until he stopped crying.

What was he even crying about?

-

Ok so- Maybe Danny should start scheduling his breakdowns. So far, he's had ones at random or ones that goes on for multiple days without any stopping. Or- if he did stop, he really doesn't remember them.

But this is getting embarrassing. He was lucky Kaldur came home late or else they might've either came late or completely missed the breakfast reunion.

Ugh- and don't get him started with anxiety.

His eyes must be puffy or something. Great first impression, Danny! All ya gotta do now is cry again in front of everyone to make it one of the worst introductions in life.

Well, it wasn't really a good start even without him. Arthur had just dropped him onto a very cushiony chair and exclaimed: "Thank the seas! I'm starving!" And just went to devour a whole plate before calming down a bit with Mera scolding him.

He was just awkwardly watching until a plate was placed in front of him. He slightly tensed, attention going from his plate to the hand pulling away from the plate now that it was down. That's when his eyes made contact with Kaldur's. He seemed a bit startled to, as he blinked owlishly before smiling politely.

"Hello, I'm Kaldur'Ahm. You may call me Kaldur."

"U-um.. I'm..." What should he be called now? Phantom didn't feel as right anymore. Ah, what the heck. It's not like they know little ol' Danny Fenton. "I'm Danny." For some reason, that name didn't feel too right either.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard that you've been in a stone, so I was surprised to see you carried in by fa- Arthur."

Curious Happy Happy Nervous

Danny relaxed a bit, turning to his plate once eye contact became too difficult. He picked at his food

"I didn't have much strength when I first formed. I wasn't meant to even have a body but I... didn't want to be discovered and have my core cut up and carved into for some jewelry or something, so I forced myself. you could say it's like... an energy conservation form."

Danny started to actually eat his food, though a bit quicker than he usually would. Stress eating, how lovely.

"Is it a lot of work to stay as you are now? You don't have to stay like this if you're too drained." Kaldur started to fret for him, looking for any sign of strain.

Danny, feeling the worry from him, smiled. It's been a while since someone was worried for him.

"I recovered enough energy that I have a bit extra. I can't do a lot of the things I could before, but I don't feel any pain anymore. So, I'll be fine."

Kaldur relaxed a bit, though still held a slight frown.

"Tell me if you ever feel anything. I'm more than able to hold onto your core and protect you."

Danny hummed, continuing to eat. That's about the time Kaldur remembered that it was breakfast time and started- no, continued to eat from his plate. He must've served himself when Arthur started to or even before that.

"Hey hey hey! Now that the kid's awake, why don't we take a family trip toooooooooo" He dragged out the word as Mera glared at him. "-my brother's grave! I bet he'd love to meet you! And on the way, we can go to the burger place and shop for some clothes, meet my dad-"

Danny looked over at Kaldur, who shook his head fondly at his obvious father-figure. Really, that slip up wasn't getting past him, no way, not possible.

"Don't mind him." Mera sighed. "He's an idiot."

"Hey!"

"Danny, you could always say no. We could go a different day." Kaldur mentioned.

"Danny?" Arthur questioned. Mera rolled her eyes.

"Pay attention, will you?"

"No, it's fine." Danny shook his head with a nervous smile. "I'd like to see him too."

"GREAT!" Arthur exclaimed, making Danny jump and Kaldur wince at the volume. "Hurry and finish your meals! I'll call over the pups!" and then he ran off.

"Pups?" Danny asked.

"Sharks." Mera clarified with a fond sigh. "Ever since he heard someone call them sea puppies, he's been calling them pups and puppies ever since."

"That's... really cute actually." Danny snickered.

"He sneaks away to play with them all the time." Kaldur groaned, remembering the number of meetings he had to take over for the man.

Danny reached over and patted Kaldur's forearm.

"You poor child."

"At least you understand."

-

Kaldur... well, Danny didn't really know how to put it. He was really nice and all, but he was a bit...

"These earrings would look great on you." Kaldur hummed as he held up dangling pearls to his ears.

Kaldur's already bought 3 bags of stuff for him in the last 20 minutes since coming to Reef Town (completely made-up place, just go with it). He even had to adjust his ghost clothes so he could wear the pants and shirt, and other stuff that were bought for him. He still kept the veil since it was really soft and soothed him when he rubbed it between his fingers.

"Ah, but this goes with your clothing... Perhaps we should order one to be made in Atlantis?" Kaldur trailed off, mumbling about different shops and what materials they had along with design names Danny had no clue about. He was almost sure that some of those words were made-up with how they sounded.

"Oookaaayyy- how about we think this over later?" Arthur insisted, a hand on Kaldur's shoulder and the other taking away the earrings in his hands. "We have someone to meet in... about 5 minutes."

"Right, sorry! I got distracted-"

"You're fine, you little urchin." Arthur chuckled, pushing Kaldur towards the door. "Now let's go meet Orm!"

Danny felt a hand on his head. It was a gentle, motherly touch. It nearly made his core let out a purr. Only Jazz could do that with touch alone. Though he nearly started to do the same when they'd mark where they'd cut next. They didn't do that as often with how much they liked to see his organs and bones regenerate.

"Tell Kaldur if it's too much. He's just really excited to have you around and is used to having to give something to keep sea creature friends around."

Ah, he knew that voice.

"Ex..cited? Why?" Danny looked up at Mera, leaning into her touch.

Mera smiled down sweetly at him; her eyes were filled with love that would be pointed to her own child.

She didn't have that drunken lust M4Dd13 had in her eyes each time she came back.

It made his core flutter.

"He sees you as a younger sibling. He's wanted one for a little while now. I... I can't get myself to try again, so he didn't expect to have a sibling. He was really excited to meet you after he heard that you agreed to stay with Arthur. You didn't reject my touch either. I hope it was fine that I held your... core, was it?"

Danny felt her finger card through his hair. He melted at the soothing touch.

"Yeah. It's... it's everything to a ghost. Heart and soul. And... I heard about you from Arthur while I was in my core. And you were the reason Arthur knew to comfort me. So, I knew I could trust you."

Mera smiled a bit more brightly and knelt down, hands holding his face with all the love in the world before she placed a kiss on his forehead.

"I'm glad. Now, let's go catch up with the boys. I'm sure Kaldur and Arthur must be panicking."

Danny could barely follow after her, having to make himself float as she grabbed his hand to lead him outside. Everything was too fuzzy and happy; it was hard to focus.

-

"Did you kidnap a child spirit?!"

That was the first thing Orm said when he saw Danny, immediately looking at Arthur incredulously as he slammed the table with his hands.

He immediately walked over and knelt down in front of Danny.

"I am so sorry about him-"

"Hey! I didn't-"

"-he's an idiot and really doesn't know any better."

"I didn't kidnap him!"

Orm arched a brow at his brother before looking over at Mera.

"No contracts were made."

Orm looked back at Danny.

"You went with him willingly?"

Danny snickered. "He looked like an idiot."

"You too?!"

"You really can't blame him." Kaldur agreed, smiling over at Danny.

Danny giggled and looked back at Orm.

"I'm Danny."

"Orm, that idiot's older brother. Stepbrother. Now, why did a saintly spirit decide to tag along with this family?"

Mera walked over, placing a hand on Danny's head again. He leaned into it, barely able to keep in a purr.

"You remember the incident with the moon?" Orm nodded. "Well, they're the spirit of the moon."

Orm's eyes widened, head snapping right back to Danny.

"You- you're-"

Danny blinked. He's a what? Wait, not the time to dissociate-

"Is... Is that bad?" Danny hesitantly asked.

"No! Not at all- I just- I've always believed in you, it's just that- Seeing an idol is a bit of an experience-"

"An idol?" Danny questioned, looking up at Orm. He was still kneeling, doesn't that hurt?

"Well, I've heard stories about how you'd battle against the sun gods and sent blessed rain to heal those under incurable plagues. That you split your own soul to assist physically on this world to help those that roamed on it! I've traveled to different places on the land just to see your descendants. And what beautiful white features they have. Did you know that humans call them albinos?"

"Really?"

"Yes! They deserve a better name that fits the position of blessed descendants! The fools!"

"I-it's fine, really! I'm glad they're doing ok and- and that my blessing still lives on."

Orm sighed and stood up.

"You're much too kind. Even after they replaced you, you don't hold it against anyone."

Oddly enough, he felt his chest tighten. It was as if...

"Someone has to do my job in controlling the currents, right?" Danny smiled sadly.

The others seemed to feel sympathy for the spirit, Kaldur going over and pulling him into a hug.

"It's alright. The ocean will stand by your side. Forever. They still worship you even now. So don't think you were only a tool, ok?"

Danny nodded. "Ok.."

He fought back against the tears.

-----

A/n: well, that was a bit longer than the last one. I was planning to write more for this chapter, but I'll just add it to the next one. Sorry if it seems a bit stiff, it'll be better eventually... hopefully.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed.

[bi-writes]

you get into big trouble, and you must pay the price. but bunnies should be terrified, and you are not.

mercenary!ghost x fem!reader (part 3/?)

notes about reader: she's curvy !!!! and she knows it.

cw: this is not a healthy relationship (you're both fucking insane), mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dark!ghost, mean!ghost, toxic!ghost, possessive + protective!ghost, kissing through the mask, mentions/depictions of violence + gore, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink (reader is described as much smaller than ghost, can be easily manhandled by him), ghost is bIG, mentions of ghost's canon trauma, mw3 spoilers, fem!receiving touching + a little oral (18+), unprotected piv

his phone pings. he turns it over, narrowing his eyes at the text on the screen.

🐰: made some cookies. come over?

he runs his tongue over his teeth, clicking it lowly before leaning back in his chair. his ass hurts; he's been sitting here for hours, watching a dark window do nothing for hours.

💀: Working.

🐰: i have a surprise for you !!!

💀: Later.

for a moment, he thinks he should be nicer. give his puppy a bone. tell her he misses the taste of her pretty pussy, that he can still smell her on the mask he hasn't washed. and this is true, he knows it; he aches to go back to where she lives. he wants to see her again. put his dirty, gloved fingers into her mouth and watch her cry, soak her soft panties again, steal them, watch her cry harder when he finally gives her what she wants.

the most horrifying part is that he wants it. he wants to feel the warmth of her body. he wants to see her wide hips stutter, her pretty thighs open. he thinks about bending her over and kneeling down behind her, spreading the meat of her ass so he can watch her come undone against the velvet cushions of her couch.

you're so fucking pretty. and you're everywhere. when he grips the metal of his rifle, he thinks about how hard he was when he ate your cunt--fucking solid, balls so heavy and tight that he thinks he came for a full minute when he finally touched himself that night. when the sight of that rifle finds its target, he thinks about the way your pupils dilated when you came, the way your eyes rolled back into your head and the little sounds you made when he drank up the essence of you. when he swings his knife and plunges it into a soft neck, he thinks about your smile, the teeth you bared, the ones he wants to slide his tongue over when he kisses you again.

he had kissed you. kissed someone. the thought alone would normally make him vomit. to think of another person seeing his face, it bothered him, would usually make him feel sick--disgusted. his face wasn't meant for anyone to see, not even just half of it, and yet--he let you touch him.

and it didn't burn.

he remembers when he had taken a hand once for it. feeling someone's touch on his face, feeling scarred all over again by it, and taking flesh as their penance.

it was only fair.

there is something wrong with him. he should've killed you for it. your hand on his jaw, your lips on his, he should've killed you for touching him--and yet here he is, in another lonely room, staring at his target, thinking about how he can get your hands on him again. how he might coax you into kissing him just one more time.

he doesn't want to make it a habit. but he does want it to happen again. and it is enough that he knows he shouldn't see you again, but he will, because he's selfish. because he's hungry. because there is place inside of him, one that he thought was hollow and untreatable, that is just that much satiated whenever he is with you.

when he closes his eyes, he sees what haunts him. it isn't the memories of torture. he doesn't feel the wood of a coffin he once laid in. he doesn't feel the sting of pain when they carved layers into his face, he doesn't feel the holes they left along his chest when they rooted out pieces of him. he doesn't feel what he felt when they popped his fingernails off one by one.

no, he feels the ghost of someone's touch. he feels the rough callouses of skilled hands. he thinks of the bruised knuckles that used to scrape over the ridges of his uneven skin, and he thinks of the eyes that used to look at him as if he wasn't this mangled, forgotten thing.

he thinks of those eyes, and how blue they used to be. he thinks of what they looked like with that brightness in them, how they used to move, so fluid and easy. and he thinks of what they looked like with nothing in them. he thinks of them when they reflected nothing but the dull light over his head, and he thinks of the scream he let out when he was alone, when he still had his blood on his gloves.

ghost never begs. he doesn't beg, he never has, but he thinks he did that night. he thinks he begged, to who, to no one maybe, but he begged anyway, but it doesn't matter.

no one answered, and he knows there is a place inside of him so fucking hollow, that nothing will fill it again. a hole that only seems to be dug deeper and deeper with each thing he loses.

he never looked back when he left. he didn't say a word. he didn't even take his belongings, he just left. and the only thing he still carries with him from his past life is how good he is at killing and the extra dog tags that hang around his neck.

ghost isn't real. there is nothing about him that is redeemable, nothing about him that is good enough to love, and that is why he just doesn't care. and when he stopped caring, the nightmares went away. when he stopped wondering where they were, what they were seeing, if they would be disappointed in him, he no longer saw their faces in his dreams, watching them fade to black as the soft images turned into violent ones.

when he stopped being human, they left him, and he is so grateful for it. and that is why you were going to be a problem.

because he wants. he desires. he tastes, and he hungers, and you are sweet, and he wants to have you, and it isn't right. he knows this. he knows what it is he needs to do, but he won't do it--and there is a voice in his head that begs, from a far away place, for him to let you go.

but while he might not be human any longer, he is still a man, and men are weak.

as a man, he cannot close his eyes and forget your pretty face. he cannot stop thinking about your warm thighs, the softness of you, the unscarred skin that you wear. you wear your body as it is yours, and not like it holds you back, not like his does. your belly is full, and your heart is good, and you are warm. you aren't made of something else, you are real, and his blood runs so cold, he can't help but itch to feel you again.

there is something about you that makes that place inside of him feel like it isn't there, even for just a moment. and those moments remind him of someone else, of something else, something he once had that made him sick to think about having again.

the last time he had this, it killed him. the last time he found himself here, he didn't realize it had happened until it was too late--he was buried, deep, and there was no escaping a shallow grave this time because he thinks he loved the one that put him there. the last time he thought this way, he felt not himself, not enough, but it had been everything his life had been without, so he stayed, and he let it happen, and he didn't push him away, and now look at me--look at what I've done, look at what I've become--

men are weak. and men are lonely. and it was only a matter of time before ghost found himself there again, on his knees for something else. something soft and sweet and real, something that loves unconditionally and begs for attention and is never satiated until he looks at them and gives them what they need.

he doesn't know what he will become after you. he doesn't know what it will make of him. he knows you will go before him--he knows you will die before he does, because he isn't capable of dying, and even though he knows this as a fact, he wants to die again. but he won't try, because it won't work, even if he takes the blade strapped to his side and shoves it right through his heart.

he doesn't have one. he doesn't know what such a wound would even do. and he doesn't wish to see what color his blood will run if he does it, anyways.

you don't like the distance he keeps you at. it isn't fair. you do everything he asks--you go where he goes, you let him come and go whenever he wants, you spread your legs for him and let him have his fill, and you don't complain when he leaves even though your mouth waters thinking about getting your mouth on him and hearing him bask in his own pleasure for even a moment.

he gives and he takes, but he lets you do neither, and you want more. you know he isn't capable of more, you know he doesn't want more, but you want it, and he needs it. he needs you, despite what he says, despite how he acts, and you will give him what he needs.

you see it in his eyes. the things that aren't there, the things you think he once had but doesn't have anymore. sometimes he talks like you aren't there, and he mentions someone else.

another person. someone he used to know. someone he used to love, you think, but he isn't capable of love anymore, so you often wonder what they did to him to make him this way.

aloof. detached. so entirely fucked, he cannot make connections or hold the ones he has or let himself have what he needs. they have done something to him, and he wears the aftermath of it so clearly.

"he woulda liked you," he says sometimes.

"woulda loved the taste of y'r cunt," he murmurs once.

but they are gone. and you are not. and you know that there is something here. otherwise, he would never come back. he would not want to see you again. maybe he would have even killed you, but he hasn't, and he eats pussy like he loves you, so you decide you won't leave him alone. you won't let him go. this isn't fair, and you will get what it is you want--and give him what it is he needs.

you see him in the pub that you met in. he sits at the far corner of the bar, tucked in the dark against the wall, and he swirls a glass of bourbon in front of him. he wears a rain jacket over his dark hoodie, and you light up when you catch sight of him.

you wear something nice for him. a short skirt, a cotton shirt tucked into it, a cropped jacket over top, and your boots make you feel tall, but you know it won't matter--you'll never be taller or bigger than that large, hulking man you have your eyes fixated on.

but when he sees you, he doesn't react the way you expect. he doesn't sit up, doesn't get off his seat to come get you, he doesn't move at all. his eyes run over you, and then they move back down to his drink.

like he doesn't know what you taste like between your legs. like he doesn't know you at all.

your smile fades. you clutch your purse now in clammy hands, and you walk shakily to the bar and sit, swallowing hard as you try and hold in the shaky breath in your throat. your chest hurts a little; your heart has fallen into your stomach, and you shift on the bar stool, fidgety and uncertain.

you had been so happy to see him. you had been so excited to come here. you hadn't seen him in weeks--but the sparse texts he had sent you were enough to keep you hanging onto your phone whenever it made a sound, as if one of those notifications might be him, throwing you just enough attention to keep you on your toes, desperate.

your lip trembles a little as the bartender comes to take your order. you ask for a shot and a chaser, and you tell him to make it a double. you want to be drunk, and you want to be drunk quickly.

you tip the drink back, swallowing it down. it burns, holds a fire in your chest, and you chase it with a seltzer, swallowing down the contents of both until you slam the can back on the counter, hiccuping.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, and when you realize ghost is still not looking at you, you're drunk enough to test his limits.

there's a group of boys down on the other side of the counter. they're playing darts, and they're drinking, and you slip off the barstool with a little step before making your way over cautiously. you pull your shirt down, show off the swell of your tits, and you ask them if they'll teach you to throw darts.

they practically cheer with delight. you hear one of them drool over your ass in that skirt, you hear another whine about looking down your shirt and at the peek of the lace bra you wear, and you shiver when you realize all you ever wanted was attention.

someone to tell you that you're pretty. that you make them hungry. but it isn't all you want, and they can't give you what you want.

they won't die for you. they won't live for you. and certainly, you know, they won't kill for you. but there's a man on the other side of the room that you want doing those things for you, that has the fucking balls to do those things for you, that possesses no good bone in his body that would do those things easily for you.

you see him in your dreams, breaking necks and popping kneecaps and slicing soft skin just to please you, and it makes you ache inside. you know what he does. he's never lied to you, but he doesn't always tell you the whole truth, but you fill in the blanks of the spaces he leaves behind, and you know what it is he does.

there's blood on his boots and money in his pocket, and you should be so afraid, but you never could be. not with the way he touches you. not with the way he talks to you. not with the way he puts his tongue inside of you and holds your thighs apart, and not with the way he grunts when he disappears into your bathroom to fuck himself to the image of you on your couch, half-naked as you wait for a fucking that never comes.

why won't he touch me? why won't he fuck me? why doesn't he rip the rest of my clothes off and have his way with me? he doesn't seem like the kind of man to ask for permission, but he eats me, and then he leaves me, and i can't take it anymore, please, please, please--

you're dizzy. the room spins, and the boys laugh, and your darts are hitting the wall now, clattering to the floor as they all boo and snicker at the way you're stumbling in your heels.

they're too close. you can smell the vodka and beer too much, and it's too warm because they're too close to you. someone's hand is on your thigh, another holds you upright with a grabby grip on your back, and there's someone else playing with your hair. they hum and they talk, and when they say they want to take you home, all you can do is hiccup and smile.

but as soon as you turn and leave, there's a large shadow waiting outside the door, leaning against the wall. you giggle knowingly, because you knew he would be here, and when the boys notice him, they try to take you in the other direction.

"if y'blokes knew wot was good for ya, y'd let 'er go and be on y'r way." he isn't in a good mood. he clicks his teeth as he comes off the wall, stepping under the streetlight. it makes the shadows of his hoodie darker, but his eyes are clearer now, bright under the mask as he breathes hard. he's angry, and he doesn't seem like his patience will linger tonight.

"oi, mate, relax," one of them laughs, and you giggle again when you see ghost tilt his head to the side. fuck, he's deadly, and you're wet. you squeeze your legs together looking at him, and you want him to put one big hand on your waist and tilt your head back--you want him to push his mask up and kiss you, all sloppy and soft like he did all those weeks ago. you want him to put his hands up your skirt and fuck you with his fingers right in the street, the same hands he squeezed the life out of someone with, the same hands he was going to kill these boys with.

ghost steps closer, and he goes for the nearest. brings a hand up, smacking one big hand against their cheek until their head hit the side of the building, and he crumpled to the floor in a pool of his own blood.

they scatter like bugs. stumbling drunk over their feet, tripping, and they disappear into the dark as ghost tilts his head to the other side now, looking at you.

you smile. giddy, hitting your toes together, and when you step to the side, you don't notice you've stepped in that man's blood.

"y'think this is fuckin' funny, eh? hangin' about with lot like that, y'think it's fuckin' funny?" he spits, and you put your hands behind your back, biting your lip.

"you...you ignored me," you hiccup. "why did you ignore me?"

"that wot this is about?" ghost snarls. "me not givin' you a proper look?"

you bite your lip harder, nearly drawing blood.

"i missed you," you whisper, your lip trembling slightly. "m-missed you so much..."

"fuck off with that," he mutters, but you step closer anyways. when he doesn't step back, you step forward again, until you're flush against his chest, tilting your head back to look up at him. you go languid when his arm falls, slipping up the back of your skirt just like you imagined. he squeezes the flesh of your ass before he leans down, and you whine when he presses the front of his mask against your lips. you kiss, your soft mouth kissing him through the fabric.

"is he dead?" you ask when he pulls away. ghost says nothing at first, just smooths his hand over the lace of your panties. he grunts when he slides his fingers between the seam, satisfied when he hears the squelch of your wet pussy as he pets you there. you squirm a little.

"dunno," ghost murmurs, and you get wetter you think, at how nonchalant he behaves as he touches you shamelessly where anyone might see. "fuck, bunny, y'r soakin' my fuckin' gloves."

"why don't you like me?" you whimper. you reach up and put both hands on his chest, and you dig your nails there, but you meet resistance. the muscle and fat there barely give way, and he hums when you drag your nails down, anchoring yourself to him. when you meet his eyes, they are dull, and you know he doesn't care. "i-i like you...i-i like you so much..." he huffs in annoyance, but you keep going, "you like someone else," you whisper. "there's someone else..."

someone else. as if there is some kind of competition, and maybe there is, but it isn't what you think. there is someone in his head, someone that screams for him to leave, someone that begs him--simon, please, yer goin' to hurt 'er, please, she's so pretty, please--but it isn't because he loves someone else, it's because he did love someone else, and he doesn't think there's room for more.

but he also cannot explain what swelled in his chest when he watched you with those boys. the searing heat of emotion that bubbled in his throat, and how the only relief he feels is the satisfaction that the boy at your feet bleeds because he put his hands on you, that is good, make them suffer, touching what fuckin' belongs to me.

there's a breaking point. it's the law of physics. something as rigid as ghost could only bend so far back before it reaches the elastic limit, and then it is deformed, and then it snaps, and then it is two pieces instead of one that cannot be put back together--and he feels it. he knows this is it. the fine line between what was and what is, this is it, it's too late--shut the fuck up, johnny, it's too late, i have her, she's mine, get out of my head, get out of my fucking head, i'm going to have her, have her, have her sweet fucking cunt--

you are bliss. you are the air that allows him to breathe. you are the threads in the fabric, the water in the soil, the heat that warms the house and breaks the soul and drives the machine.

you are in his bed, on your back, and when he slides your skirt off, there it is. the soft place between your pretty thighs, glistening and so wet, puckering and pulsing as you spread your knees for him and slip your shirt off.

he doesn't remember taking his mask off. he doesn't know where it went, but it is gone, and your lips are on his, and your tits are bouncing as he grinds his cock into your soft, squishy folds. the tip catches sometimes, and it makes you cry, and you whine when he breaks the kiss to lick your tears and taste the salt of your pleasure. the tears are heady and desperate, and he knows this flavor, and he wants more of it.

he commits this to memory. when he sits up and feeds you his cock, he memorizes the way you moan. the twitch of your pussy, the leaking of your wetness, the way you clench and tighten and grip so he cannot do anything but force himself deeper inside of you.

what is it that he loves? what is it that he loves so much that he cannot look you right in the eyes? whose body did he have underneath him all that time ago that steals him away so much he cannot fuck you the way you deserve? the way you need, the way he wants?

you reach up and grip his dog tags. they jangle against his chest as he grips your hips and fucks you, and you use them to anchor yourself, tugging on the metal necklace as you focus on the way he thrusts. powerful, smooth, with ease--he's so big, but he fills you so well, and you can't help but wonder if he's losing himself because it's so familiar. to be inside. to be gripped and squeezed and milked for all that you are, the brute of a man so misunderstood that fucks like a goddamn pornstar.

he's so good at this. when he finds the gooey spot in your cunt, he knows how to get you there. hitting it just enough to bring you to the edge, and then slowing down to savor the wet mess your cunt has become, and then doing it again. he listens to the cries you make, the crescendo of moans that you sob out that come back down when he goes softer. he thinks about this, and he makes music out of you. the pretty bunny, so fucking dumb inside, but the thing he cannot be without.

when he fucks you, he sees in blue, and he knows this isn't a coincidence. the blue in your eyes, it doens't lie--he knows what this feeling is, and he prays to no one that he can fuck this feeling right out of himself.

you come so messy. you soak his thighs, creaming on his cock as you beg him to fill you, and he cages you between his arms as he fucks harder, faster, losing momentum as he nears the same glorious high. he's been so good, but this he cannot help--not the way this feels, so familiar, so easy, so freeing.

there are no thoughts when he is inside of you, and this is bliss.

he kisses you when he comes. cups both puffy cheeks of yours as he spurts hot cum inside of you, sliding his big hands down to grip your thighs as he nestles his hips against yours. you reach down with two hands and squeeze his lower back, keeping him inside. this feeling, the feeling of being so full and warm and enjoyed, it isn't natural to you, and it isn't one you feel often, and you chase after it. you lick into his mouth and whine, and he hushes you.

"easy, rabbit," he pants, licking over your jaw, and you close your eyes. if he is predator and you are prey, then so be it. you want him to have his fill--you want him to trap you, steal you away, tuck you into this den he keeps and never let you leave.

you don't mind the blood on his boots, stained on his clothes, under his fingernails. in fact, you think about it often. you think about taking a rag and cleaning the leather of his shoes. you think about teaching him the cold water and peroxide trick to getting the blood out of fabric. you think about taking the gloves off, letting his fingers wander into the warmth of your mouth so you can suck his skin clean, all while your eyes never left his.

you think about the thing that you are. the bunny you are, the prey you've manifested yourself into, and you think about the thing that he is. you think about the dark, dense places that must exist inside of his head, and you think about how you can't see them in his eyes.

you think about being the bunny in a cage and how he holds the key. and you wonder if you would even leave if he ever let you go.

ghost loves someone else. you don't know who they are or where they've gone, but he loves someone else. but that's okay. that's temporary. that's just for now. they didn't love him enough to stay.

they didn't love him enough not to die. you don't intend to die. you're going to carve him up, right along the scars that he wears, and you're going to slip inside of him and live there forever, nestled between the organs and the black of his blood and the heart you know he doesn't have.

ghost is a thing. but he's still a man.

and men are fucking weak.

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Stay ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : You wanted a healthy normal relationship, he hated commitment and told you he would never change. Yet you two are drawn to each other like a moth to a flame, craving for the others warmth.

Pairing : BadBoy! Seonghwa x Fem! Reader

Word count : 10K

Genre : Angst, Comfort, Happy end, Romance,

Smut(y)

Warnings ➵ Drinking, Toxic realationship,

Friends with benefits, SA (not

from Seonghwa), Blood

a/n : Inspired by Ateez Stay cover bcs omg Seonghwa in that cover-

Also please be aware that the realationship in this story is mostly very toxic and only to be seen as a work of fictional art, I don't condone behavior like that in any way!

This is not supposed to represent Seonghwa in any way or form, it's a simple work of fiction!

You swore to yourself you would never get into something with no strings attached. Romance and a healthy relationship were what you were looking for from early on, did that ever work out till now? Not really. Most relationships end before they even start, them cheating or ghosting you. Now that was the reason you told yourself you would never fall for Park Seonghwa, not like apparently everyone else. He was known for breaking hearts left and right and not being up for commitment. Despite his good looks, that scared you off, keeping your distance from him.

Now how did you end up getting to know him despite telling yourself to stay away from him? It all started with this one project in your history class.

Your best friend Yunho was sitting beside you, telling you about his weekend and how he visited this fun amusement park with his family. Listening to him till a sudden bang disrupted your conversation. In steps Park Seonghwa, followed by Choi San and Kim Hongjoong. Those three were rather known to be up to no good mostly, along with a few others like Wooyoung or Jongho. Clad in mostly black and blue clothes, a lot of leather, and Seonghwas neck adorned by a velvety chocker. He even wore some makeup, his black hair put up into a half bun, noticing even a few hickeys on his neck, probably from one of his playthings. Rolling your eyes before averting your attention to Yunho again, chatting till the professor walks in, Mingi stumbling in out of breath before he closes the door, the tall boy taking the seat beside you now.

The lesson was going rather smoothly, the troublemakers at the back only keeping to themselves this time and not bothering the rest of the class. Ears peaking up now as your professor announces a partner project, where he for once assigned the partners, making you wish to get anyone but one of those three.

"Mingi and Yunho." Both boys high-fived, before sending you an apologetic look, your name was yet to be called, same for Seonghwa and you two were one of the last people left. "Y/N and Seonghwa." Your pen slipped from your hand landing on the desk, that man can't be serious right? Looking over to Mingi and then Yunho, both not meeting your gaze, knowing full well you want to switch with them. Screw them for real. No more focused on the lesson, you were thinking of ways to get out of this project, not even noticing how your two friends already stood up and were now watching a certain black-haired man walk over to you.

"Here is my number, write me for the project~" Shriking together as you hear a whisper in your right ear, a hand putting a piece of paper in your hand and disappearing before you could even turn around to scold him for coming this close to you. Out of them all it had to be Seonghwa, you could've maybe even worked with San or Hongjoong but him? A groan leaves your lips as you get up from your seat, following the duo out of the room and to your next class.

And so your relationship with Seonghwa started, you messaged him and made out a meeting point for the project. Which was the library, for now, not wanting to invite him to your place or go to his dorm.

The dreaded day came and you were sitting in the library only problem, was you were alone. Seonghwa was already half an hour late, you already started working but grew more and more irritated the more time ticked by. Almost an hour late he finally shows up, sunglasses perched on his nose as he took a seat beside you. "You're almost an hour late, listen I also don't want to do this, but I will not be doing this alone." Looking at him now finally, you notice how his form looked somewhat sunken together and he still wore the glasses despite being inside. "Are you fucking hungover?!" Groaning at your loud voice now, he holds your stare. "Even if, I'm here and you've got no place to complain." Rolling your eyes, you start to pack your stuff together again, not going to put up with this. You would just have to ask your professor for a different partner, this was ridiculous.

"Are you really being such a bitch right now?" Standing up to follow you, was he seriously coming late and then having the audacity to call you names? "Excuse me?! You were the one to be this late and even hungover now you have the audacity to call me a bitch?! Fuck you!" Slamming the door in his face now you make your way to the gates of the school, stomping your way through the path. Not daring to even look back after you just slammed the door in his face, he would probably just get going and leave you to finish the project all on your own. "Wait up! My god, you're so difficult!" Feeling your eye start to twitch irritated, yet you didn't halt and proceeded to walk. That is until a hand on your wrist suddenly stops you.

"Okay sorry for calling you a bitch, I'm just not in a good mood. Let's meet up tomorrow? I'll be sober for real, I'll even treat you to a meal." Looking at the black-haired man in front of you skeptical now, was he really offering to treat you a dinner while working? With a short hesitation you in the end agreed, telling him your address so he could pick you up, he insisted on picking you up.

With that, your ways part and this was the first real encounter you had with Park Seonghwa. Opening the door for him into your life in a little gap.

The evening was spent preparing some stuff for the project the next day, despite Seonghwa wanting to work on this, you decided to at least start some stuff. Not knowing if you can trust his words of picking you up to work on this tomorrow.

The next day is quick to follow, you get dressed in something flowy and thin because the summer heat is unbearable any other way. Makeup was applied and while you were packing your bag for the study session, your phone started to ring, showing Seonghwas's name. Astonished that he actually showed up, he probably knows you would ask for another partner if he didn't and he needed the good grade, knowing you are a good enough student to help him with achieving this.

The moment you stepped outside your eyes bulged, you knew he drives a motorcycle but you never thought he'd pick you up like this - on top of that you never drove on a motorcycle before. "Ready to go?" Looking up at him now as you stand before him, looking over to the side of the motorcycle before a helmet was held into your view - his helmet. "Don't you need one too?" Laughing a bit at the slightly concerned tone of your voice, Seonghwa assures you that it's fine and the drive a short one. Still a bit unsure you put the helmet on and get behind him, holding onto the sides of the motorcycle making him raise his eyebrows. "Put your feet there and your arms around me, this ain't some cute little slow bicycle, don't want you falling off." Without a second thought, Seonghwa grabs your arms placing them around his waist, your red cheeks being hidden by the helmet. Never in your life had a manhandled you like this. Rough and firm, yet a certain softness to not bruise you. Gripping onto him tightly he takes off.

The drive truly was not that long as he said, it took you maybe 10 minutes to be in front of a little diner. Getting off before you, Seonghwa then holds his hand out to help you off, which you accept before giving the helmet back to him. Following him inside now, he leads you two to a booth next to a window, sitting down opposite of you. "Let's eat first and then work on this stupid project." Nodding in agreement, you still felt a bit uncomfortable talking around him. "You're not really talkative huh?" Sending a smirk your way, you avert your eyes down to the menu. He was right, he intimidated you, even though you would never admit that out loud to him. "I don't really talk to other people than my close friends." This was the closest agreement you would give him, making him hum in acknowledgment.

After giving your orders, the waitress hits on Seonghwa and he reciprocates it, which by the way made you wanna puke, you two finally started to work on your school project because the food would take a while to get to you. Lost in the text now, you don't even notice how Seonghwa often looks up to you, mustering your face. Only catching his eyes for a second when your food arrives, a little break from working on the project while you eat. It was quiet for a while, the only sounds being your cutlery against the plate and the occasional picking up and setting down your glass again.

So after finishing you two got back to work, it actually surprised you how well Seonghwa was working along, had you thought he would let you do the whole work and then get a good grade. The conversations between the two of you also getting easier while the time ticks by. Seonghwa is different in private than he is in school and different from the vibe he gives off. He normally looks so stern and intimidating, yet when you two are alone right now he is rather calm, works well, and doesn't look as rough as he normally does. "Caught your eye darling?" You didn't even notice that you had started staring at Seonghwa, looking down quickly when you started to blush, only hearing a chuckle leave his lips.

"Cat got your tongue now?" You acted as if you didn't hear him, eyes set on the paper before you, that was until you felt Seonghwas foot push against your leg, not hard or anything but a little bump to get your attention and by the way you shrieked together surprised, he got his attention and reaction. The teasing continued while you two worked on the project that day, till you finally closed your book, finished for the day, face ablaze.

"Let's get going, the waitress is eye fucking me and she ain't my type at all." Grabbing his bag now, as he leads you out of the diner and back to his motorcycle. Handing his helmet over to you again, you put it on your head before sitting down behind him again, this time holding onto his waist from the start. "Good girl, you're learning~" Avoiding his gaze now as he glances at you, holding on tight to him as he takes off. The drive back felt even shorter than to the diner, stopping before your building, Seonghwa waits for you to step down and for you to hand his helmet back. "Text me when you wanna meet up next for the project, just give me a heads up early enough so I'm not hungover." You knew he was joking right now from the way he talked, he probably didn't drink every day, and yesterday was probably just a bad day. "Sure, thank you for picking me up and inviting me to a meal." A nod was sent your way before he put his helmet on and drove off. This was a really interesting event.

In your apartment again, you write Yunho and Mingi about how your first study session with Seonghwa went, and them immediately freaking out at how he tried to flirt with you. Rolling your eyes, as you tell then he was simply joking and teasing you probably.

Going about your night routine, before laying down, thinking about the day. Planning to write Seonghwa in two days when it's Friday, maybe to meet up on Saturday or Sunday for the next session.

The days went by quickly and you found yourself writing to Seonghwa, it didn't even take him long to reply either. Agreeing to meet up on Saturday, asking to meet up at your or his place this time. Thinking for a second, you ask for his address, being too uncomfortable to invite him to your place still.

So now you were finding yourself in front of a door, written on it was the number 206, the one Seonghwa sent you. Taking a deep breath, before ringing the doorbell, it took a few seconds, but Seonghwa opened the door for you. "Hello princess, glad you found it here." After the first meet up you were a bit more used to his pet names, entering his apartment now after he opened the door more, taking your shoes off. Glancing around the apartment, it was a bit smaller than yours and more chaotic, with clothes hanging over the couch, the coffee table full of different trinkets, and a pack of cigarettes lying open. Followed him over to the couch, sitting down beside him after he patted the space beside him. "Let's get this going, we don't get forever for this project." Nodding in agreement, you pull the papers you were last working on out, laying them on the table he had cleared right now. Only the cigarettes and ashtray remained on the table.

"Bothers you if I smoke?" Shaking your head yes now, Seonghwa raises his eyebrow. "Sorry I hate the smell, makes me sick to my stomach." Chuckling for a second, Seonghwa puts the pack away again.

"So how you wanna do this? Poster? Or PowerPoint? I could make a PowerPoint." Thinking for a second, a PowerPoint would probably be the best idea. "Sure sounds like a plan, I'll prepare the papers then, so we hand in both." Seonghwa nods before it goes quiet again between the two of you, the silence this time a lot less uncomfortable than before.

"I need a break!" Seonghwa groans as he stretches his arms above his head, noticing how his shirt rides up a bit and exposes his abs. Why did he have to be built this fine? "What you say 'bout take out? I can order." Grabbing his phone to scroll through a few services you agree, ending with both of you ordering Sushi. Now that you were taking a break from writing and working, you felt how sore your hand and fingers felt, like to wiggle them a bit to relieve the pain. "Do you smoke?" Looking over to Seonghwa now, cigarette dangling between his cherry red lips, making you wonder if he uses lip tints. "Not really, tried it once, hated it, my friend smokes from time to time though." Humming as a response, he takes a drag of his cigarette, fingers holding onto the little stick as he blows out the smoke. Just now you notice the chipped blue nail polish, the silver rings adorning his fingers, and the bracelets around his wrists.

"Do you want anything to drink while we wait?" Thinking for a second, before you ask him if he has any lemon soda, chuckling while he gets up to get one from his fridge. Coming back to sit beside you, handing you the lemon soda while he opens a can of beer. It amazed you how it was the middle of the day and he was still able to drink beer. A small conversation was held between the two of you, mostly about school and grades until the food delivery interrupted you two. The food was consumed in silence again, sitting cross-legged beside each other, your knee touching his. As soon as you two finished Seonghwa threw the containers away, sitting down beside you, who had started working yet again. Though unlike you, Seonghwa remained still beside you, watching you closely and how you worked. After a while you finally feel his eyes on you, looking over at him with a questioning look.

"Tell me.. I've been wondering the whole time, have you ever made out with someone?" You really thought your eyes would fall out of the sockets by how wide they got after he asked this. Out of nowhere too? Where was this coming from? Stammering now to find an answer, it's embarrassing to admit to someone like Seonghwa that at your age you never even kissed someone. All of a sudden the whole room and your body felt as if it was on fire. "I uhm.. I-" Smirking at the way you try to form a coherent answer, he already got his answer - no you never made out with someone. "Wanna try it?" Not believing your ears, you just stare at him, Seonghwa holding your gaze the whole time, his face being so intimidating and serious about his offer.. Was this even an offer?

"I mean.. Y-Yes someday.." Your eyes were glued on your hands now, which were playing with the trim of your shirt, not being able to look into his face. "I mean like right now, wanna try? Wanna know how it feels like?" You could feel him scoot closer to you, his body heat closer to you now, as he leaned his arm behind you on the couch, trapping you a little bit, between him and the couch. "I.. I'm not sure.." Feeling his fingers softly graze your chin as he turns your face to him, his eyes cast downward to your lips, making you gulp. "Say no or I will kiss you right now." The look on his face was telling you he was serious and despite that, you just looked at him, not telling him no. Your heart thrumming heavy in your chest, being able to feel it in your throat too. Even though you're aware of his reputation, you're way too curious to kiss him, make out even, but didn't curiosity kill the cat in the end?

Before you knew it his lips were on yours, soft and slow at first. His lips were warm against yours, he tasted a bit like smoke, but not too bad actually. Reciprocating the kiss, your body was still tense from being kissed by the Park Seonghwa, on top you were unsure about your inexperience. Seonghwas hands find your waist as he with ease tugs on you and places you on his lap. One arm stays around your waist now as the other slowly glides up, grazing your chest for a split second before settling on softly holding the side of your neck, his hand big enough for his thumb to slightly rub over your jawline. The kiss was turning more intense, your own hands gliding up his chest and coming to rest on his shoulders, slightly gripping the black shirt he was wearing.

A sudden gasp left your lips when you felt his tongue glide over your lip, him taking the chance to deepen the kiss. What surprised you even more, was a warm little ball pushing against your tongue now and then, you didn't even know that he had a tongue piercing. Pulling away for a bit now to let you catch your breath, his arms pushing you closer against him as he starts to trail kisses down your neck and onto your shoulder, pulling the fabric of your top down the shoulder a bit. "S-Seonghwa.." Gasping softly when you felt him suck on your collarbone, this prone to leave a mark for sure.

"We barely made out and you look this fucked out? Now I really wanna know what you look like after getting your brain fucked out." Eyes growing wide as he says these filthy words, you also can't deny that they have an effect on you, your core slowly growing wet. "But let's call it a day for now before I make you pass out." Letting you climb off his lap now, his lips pulled into a smirk. Just now you notice the smudged color on his lips, so he wears lipstick and not tint? Wiping a finger over your own now, checking your finger and being met with the same color on Seonghwas lips. "Here let me wipe it off." Grabbing your chin again, he turns your face to him as he softly wipes away the red lipstick with a tissue. Thanking him quietly, as you gather your things together. It was already quite late so you should probably head back now. "I'll drive you back." Surprised by that offer, you still take it, more convenient than taking the train for half an hour and possibly encountering creepy people.

The rest of the evening wasn't really special, he dropped you off, telling you to write him for the next session, making you wonder if he meant the school work or something else, before taking off after you went inside your building. And this was the first intimate moment you had with Park Seonghwa.

The next few sessions went rather normal, he did occasionally flirt with you, but nothing too much.

The due date was also a bit away and you two were almost finished, that's why you two decided to not study this Saturday. Great for you, did your girl friends invite you out to the club and you agreed. Get ready in a cute short dress, a belt, some matching accessories, and high heels, which will most likely kill you later in the night. Being picked up by your friends, you all arrive at the club and get inside.

It was full, like any Saturday night, the red and blue flashing lights made you squint your eyes for a second, getting them to adjust. People were mushed together on the dance floor, most booths were full already, luckily your friend knew some of the girls in one of them, making you guys join them. Shots were ordered, and some cocktails were drunk. It was a fun evening, spending some time on the dance floor, till you feel hands grab your hips from behind. About to punch the person grabbing you, stop when you notice that it's Seonghwa. "Such a skimpy dress, trying to drive me crazy?" Looking around frantically now, your friends were all caught up with something or someone else, to even notice Seonghwa being behind you. "Didn't know you would be here." Avoiding his gaze, you feel his body and hands move to grab your wrist softly and pull you outside of the club. Letting go of your hand for a second, he pulls out the pack of cigarettes, lighting it up before blowing the smoke out, not caring about how you recently told him how feel about people smoking around you.

"So babe~ How about we catch up on that wish of mine?" His fingers hook around your belt as he pulls you flush against him. Eyes darting around frantically now, no one seems to notice with whom you're standing this close with right now. "No ones here and the ones that are, are either too drunk or don't care and just wanna smoke." His face was beside yours now, as he whispered into your ear, before softly nibbling on the shell of it. Shrieking together at this, making Seonghwa chuckle and snake his arm fully around your waist keeping you flush against himself. "So you want to or not?" Too embarrassed to talk and again out of curiosity you nod. After the short yet intense make-out session with Seonghwa, you couldn't stop thinking about him and how you want him to ravish you.

"Good let's go then, hope your friends won't miss you." Pulling you along now, he makes his way over to the parking lot and his motorcycle. "Here put this on, it's too cold to drive in a short dress like that." Shrugging off his jacket now, he hands it over to you. It was a large black leather jacket, with safety pins on it for decoration, it was huge on you but felt oddly comfortable and calming. Used to it by now, you get on behind Seonghwa and hold on tight to him so you won't fall off before he takes off to his apartment.

Upon arriving there he kicks his shoes off, before grabbing you by the waist and pushing you against the closed door now. "Last chance to back out baby, tell me do you want this?" It surprised you how much he takes value in consent, after answering him with a yes that you want this, his lips are on yours. This kiss was much more heated than the last one you shared, full of lust and emotions. Seonghwas hands were running over your body, over your thighs pushing the trim of your dress up before moving up again to threaten his fingers into your hair.

Pulling on your legs now, he pulls you up onto his hips as he starts to carry you to assuming his room. Before you knew it, your body hit a soft mattress as Seonghwa stood above you, pulling his shirt over his head, gawking at his well-built body now. Of course, you assumed he was well off, but this well? This man looked like a statue, so flawless and perfect. Moving above you again, he starts to kiss you again, as your own hands start to glide over his collarbones to his shoulders and into his hair.

And so Seonghwa gave you a night of pure pleasure and you knew, if you didn't get out soon, you'd be addicted to the pleasure, his touch, and Park Seonghwa himself. If it didn't already happen and was too late for you to escape his grip.

Sunlight was tickling your face softly, as your hand moved to try and shield you from the sun, groaning as it was no use, before turning around. Bumping into something, or rather someone, your eyes grow wide as the last night comes back to you. You slept with Park Seonghwa. Looking at the man before you now, he looked so soft asleep, moving your hand you softly push a strand of hair out of his eyes. Looking down at your body, you were wearing what you assumed was one of Seonghwas's shirts, it was huge and he probably helped you put it on in the after-bliss of last night.

Getting up carefully now, you walk to the door and out of the room to try and find the bathroom. Coming to a halt in the kitchen, when Kim Hongjoong stood before you in his sleepwear. They lived together?! Before you could turn around, he greeted you, making you shy away slightly, a quiet morning before rushing to the bathroom, hearing the man chuckle after you left. This was entirely crazy, you had slept with Seonghwa, Hongjoong knew that now, and your friends probably worried about where you went last night. Finishing your business you quietly exit the bathroom again, hoping to dash for Seonghwa's room, but the man who was sleeping a few minutes ago stood in the kitchen with Hongjoong now. His hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, no shirt on, and the hickeys you left on him on full display.

"And I thought you took off without saying goodbye~" Were his words to you when he noticed you standing in the door frame, his hand moving to softly pull you against him, his head leaning onto yours slightly. "Hongjoong made breakfast, let's eat." This was all so strange, sitting with those two at the kitchen table now and eating eggs with bacon for breakfast.

The morning continued rather calmly, you got ready to leave, and Seonghwa dropped you off at your apartment, where you immediately went to charge your phone which was empty. Upon opening your messenger, you see that probably Seonghwa sent your group chat a message to not worry and that you went home, you would scold him for going on your phone without permission, but also glad he told your friends you were safe.

Using the rest of the weekend to study for your upcoming exam, it was now Monday which meant you and Seonghwa would meet up again for the project. This time it would be at your apartment because Hongjoong had an important online meeting and needed the apartment to be quiet.

For you it was still a bit awkward to sit beside Seonghwa again after what happened just merely two days ago, he however seemed calm and normal as ever, except for the sly glances your way every now and then. "The project is due this Friday, right? You think another session should be enough to finish this?" Thinking for a second, before confirming his question, you two were almost finished, just a few touches here and there. So with no complications, Friday came around and you two-handed in your project, the teacher was seemingly surprised with how well you two worked together.

"So tomorrow a few friends of mine throw a little get-together, do you wanna come around too?" Seonghwa was pulling his bag onto his shoulder now, as he watched you with sharp eyes. Surprised at his invite, you thought he would probably not ever talk to you again as soon as you two-handed the project in. "Oh? Sure, just send me the address!" Agreeing, but after finishing he immediately declines, telling you he would pick you up like always, before leaving the room.

Mingi and Yunho who witnessed the whole conversation pulled you to them, bombarding you with questions about what that was supposed to mean and since when you and Seonghwa were this close, so with a little hesitation you told them everything that happened. Yunho was shocked, to say the least, but supported you, Mingi was terrified and worried for you.

The next evening came around rather quickly, you were getting dressed for the little party Seonghwa invited you to, waiting for him to message you that he was there, while you were still touching up your makeup. Upon receiving a message from him, you make your way downstairs and greet Seonghwa smiling. "Someone seems to be in a happy mood huh~" Pulling you closer, he softly nuzzles his nose against your cheek, pressing a kiss afterward before putting the helmet on you and helping you on. "You know the deal, hold on tightly princess, don't want you falling off~" And with that, the two of you took off.

Arriving at the party, Seonghwa guides you inside the house, it was rather big, and he told you it was one of his friend's parents house, who were away for a few weeks. It was packed full of people, inside and outside. Normally any party you go to isn't this crowded, Seonghwa noticed your discomfort and took your hand in his, guiding you outside to the bar. His hand wandering to your waist now as he waits for your drinks to be ready, while you take in your surroundings. There were a lot of faces you knew from university, but also a lot of strangers, which made you quite uncomfortable and glad that Seonghwa was by your side.

"Hwa! Didn't know you were here already!" Approaching him now was a well-dressed man, followed by Choi San. "Wooyoung! Sorry it's a bit full, I wasn't really able to say hello yet." Turning to the two men now, watching them from behind Seonghwa a bit. Both their eyes fell onto you and the interlocked hands, sending Seonghwa a smirk. After a short conversation the two leave again and Seonghwa turns around to you, apologizing for taking so long. Telling him it's fine, he grabs the two drinks and leads you to one of the little garden benches, sitting down with you and placing your glass in your hand, before leaning back and taking a sip of his own. "Enjoying yourself so far?" His dark eyes were fixated on you. The eyeshadow he was wearing complimented his eyes, he chose a dark red this time with a black, cherry lip tint. His usual leather jacket, a ripped shirt underneath, and ripped jeans where net stockings could be seen through the cuts. "It's a bit fuller than what I'm used to, but it's fine." Being honest with Seonghwa makes him raise an eyebrow, offering for you two to leave if it's too much for you, declining with a shake of your head. You didn't want to ruin the night for him.

After a while of talking, Seonghwas's hand wanders to your naked thigh, softly caressing it while talking to you, Hongjoong joins the two of you, greeting you. Glad the two were talking now, allowing you to calm down and rest a little bit. Seonghwas hand still on your thigh, you softly lean your head on his shoulders with your eyes closed, his scent of vanilla and spice coming to you.

Looking up again when you heard a lighter going off, watching Hongjoong light a cigarette before wanting to pass it to Seonghwa, who declined. "You stopped?" Raising an eyebrow at his friend now. "Only when the little princess is around~" Your eyes widen a little bit as your cheeks blush, before hiding your face in his shoulder again, making the two men chuckle.

The night continued on, Seonghwa getting you two a new drink every now and then, at some point both of you visibly tipsy. Whispering in his ear softly, brave enough to let your hand glide through his hair, to his nape, and down his spine, making him breathe out shakily. "You know, there are some guest rooms upstairs~" His face was nuzzled in your neck, placing soft kisses on your throat, sucking a few times to leave a little red spot. Even in this state, you knew you shouldn't, the first time was one time too much, and the danger of getting addicted to Seonghwa was too big. Yet you're drawn to him. Pulling him into a kiss by the collar, his hands landing on your hips. "Let's go then~" You didn't have to say more as Seonghwa already stood up, taking your hand in his and guiding you into the house and up the stairs. Searching for a free guest room, he leads you in and pushes you onto the bed after making sure the door is locked.

"So pretty and all for me~" Hovering above you now, he sits up a bit to take his jacket and shirt off, before leaning back down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. His tongue swipes along your lips and you allow him immediate entrance. His hands were running wild all over your body, pushing the short dress up, exposing your bottom and soon your chest. Moaning his name softly when his hand came in contact with your breasts. "Yes moan for me, let them know who makes you feel this good~" Whispering those words into your ear now.

And with that, Seonghwa gave you yet another night of pure bliss, waking up next to him the next morning, this time staying out beside him. Admiring his soft features that finally relaxed when asleep, not like over the days when he looked sharp and dangerous, intimidating even. Running your fingers softly through his hair, to his eyebrow which has a slit shaved into it, to his nose, over his cheeks noticing his long eyelashes, and down to his lips. "Having fun baby?" Just now noticing Seonghwa was staring at you, you retreate your hand apologizing to him. "It's fine, you looked cute all concentrated on me~" Pressing a peck on your cheek before getting up and getting dressed, still bare from last night. You were only in Seonghwas's ripped shirt, he probably put it on you after last nights events.

"Get dressed, I wanna go grab some breakfast together~" Leaving the room for a second, before coming back in a new shirt and putting his leather jacket on. Putting this dress on and Seonghwa's shirt over it, so it won't be too revealing before following him outside and down. "Wooyoung if you don't shut up, my brain is killing me and your voice isn't helping." Could be heard from downstairs, you assumed it to be Jongho from the few times you heard him talk. "How much did you even drink to be so hungover? You the heavy weight of us.." Hongjoong spoke this time, following Seonghwa into the living room shily now, slightly hiding behind him. Jongho was lying on the couch with a pillow over his eyes, San still passed out on the other one, while Hongjoong and Wooyoung sat at the bar. "Ah, good morning you two!" Hongjoong greets you with a smirk, knowing exactly what had occurred last night.

After a short chat, Seonghwa announces that you two will be leaving now to go grab some food, saying goodbye to the four men before leading you outside to his motorcycle. The drive to the diner was rather short, he led you inside and into the booth you also worked in the first time. This time he sits down beside you though instead of the opposite. It didn't take long for someone to take your orders and disappear again, making Seonghwa turn his body fully to you, hand resting on your knee. "Are you free this weekend? There is this new movie I'd like to watch." Was he asking you out on a date right now? No, he wouldn't right? "Like a.. date?" Looking questioning at him now, he chuckles lowly. "If you want it to be a date, babe, sure~" His hand found its place on your nape now, caressing and softly playing with your hair.

The food soon came and you two had a nice breakfast, Seonghwa bringing you home. And even sooner Saturday arrived, having you stand in front of your mirror wondering if your outfit is too much or not enough. This would be your first ever real date, so you were rather nervous.

Again Seonghwa picked you up, mustering you from top to bottom before smirking at you. "You look gorgeous, all for me~?" Grabbing your waist as he pulls you against himself, pushing your hair behind your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your lips. "It's not too much?" Your question made him chuckle, telling you how beautiful you look and that it wasn't too much. Arriving at the cinema, Seonghwa softly holds your hand as he leads you over to the ticket counter and then to the food stall, getting you two drinks and popcorn.

Finding the right room you two enter and sit down on your designated seats, there were a few people already, probably to be fuller in a while since it's a movie newly airing. "What shall we do after the movie?" Seonghwa was leaning his body over to you, his arm around your shoulder. "I don't know, maybe go to a cafe? Or we could just hang out at your or my place!" At that his ears peak up, he wasn't at your place yet and was rather excited to visit it. Agreeing with that immediately, the lights dimming now as he stays leaning onto you and watches the movie. Sometimes through the movie, your head starts to lean on his shoulder softly, enjoying the moment.

Sadly the movie and moments are over too soon and quickly you find yourself in front of your apartment. Opening the door and letting Seonghwa in first, he starts looking around immediately making you a bit self-conscious. It was of course clean, maybe a few things here and there, but it was still entirely different from his place. "It's so adorable." Looking around, before stopping in front of your picture wall. There were many different pictures from baby pictures to family photos and Polaroids with friends. A lot of them of Mingi, Yunho and yourself. "That's Mingi and Yunho right?" Pointing at the two men, you're surprised he actually knows their names. "Yeosang is friends with them, he wasn't at the party last time though, so you probably don't know him, he's at another school." That did surprise you, not knowing those two were friends with someone close to Seonghwa. "Though there is definitely missing something.." Looking confused over to him, before scanning the wall. Nothing was missing correct? Did he take something? "..A picture of us~" Whispering those words in your ear now as his arms move around your waist, pressing himself against you. "As soon as I have a picture of us, I'll hang it up!" Smiling brightly at him, you don't know what you're doing to Seonghwa.

The evening continues on with you two playing on your Switch, and cooking something together before watching a show together. He was lying on your chest softly, his arms holding you while focused on the television. It felt nice to be held like this.

Saying goodbye to him with a soft kiss, closing your door, and leaning against it with a big smile. Was this finally the time? Is someone serious with you?

Those thoughts should soon be destroyed though, arriving at the school in a really good mood, you walk over to Yunho and Mingi, greeting them with a big smile. Telling them hushed what happened and how happy you are, they were, of course, happy for you, yet skeptical about how serious Seonghwa is with you. Some glances were exchanged between you and Seonghwa in the class, this not going unnoticed by his friends.

"You're not really serious with her are you?" That voice was Jonghos, halting your movement of packing your things together after the class, listening closely now. "Huh? Of course not, you know I'm not up for commitment." That was Seonghwas voice now, feeling your heart drop. After all that happened, especially last weekend he says this? Was he only leading you on? Yunho who overheard everything too, tried to softly lay his hand on your shoulder, but before he was able to you darted out of the room, not able to hold the tears back for much longer. Yunho was furious, glancing over to Seonghwa who also watched you leave, his gaze meeting Yunhos now. "Asshole." Was all he muttered, before grabbing his bag and leaving the room, leaving behind a confused Mingi who just woke up from his class nap, looking around confused.

Hiding in your favorite spot to do so, under the stairs on one of the more empty sides of the university. Knees pulled up all to your chest, face buried in your knees. Of course, he wasn't serious, it was Park Seonghwa. Did you really think you were special? Your sobs were silenced now when you heard footsteps, hoping the person would leave, but soon black combat boots came into view and soon that handsome face you didn't want to see leans down to look under the stairs. "There you are, princess.." Turning your body away from him now, not trusting your voice to tell him to fuck off.

"Hey I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that.." He was sitting behind you now, his arms softly around your waist as he hugged you softly. "I'll change, for you, so please stay, don't leave me.." His face was pressed against your shoulder as he pulled you flush against him, your back pressed to his chest.

It took a while for you to calm down again, Seonghwa held you through it all, softly patting your head and kissing your hair. After a while you finally turned around, rubbing your eyes as you looked up to see Seonghwa staring at you. "I'm so sorry, I made you cry how can I make it up to you?" Warm fingers softly touching you your cheeks and brushing away the tears. "A dinner would be nice.." A soft pout was visible on your lips which made Seonghwa chuckle, pressing his lips to your forehead now. "Of course, how about you come over today and I'll cook for us? Hm? Hongjoong has work tonight." Agreeing to this, Seonghwa pulls you out from under the stairs and brings you to your next class. Saying goodbye to him before entering.

Yunho immediately rushes over to you worried, having you assure him that you're fine, sitting down beside him, touched by how worried he is for you. The day went by rather quickly, grabbing your bag and meeting up with Seonghwa in the parking lot soon.

"So what do you wanna eat?" Looking at you now as you two arrive in Seonghwas apartment. "Tteokbokki? Or we could make fried chicken!" Looking at him now, he nods getting everything out for both. The cooking process went on rather calmly, you were mostly sitting on the counter, watching Seonghwa cook, exchanging small kisses and hugs here and there. At some point you even put his hair up in a ponytail, smiling at him fondly. Soon the food was finished and you two enjoyed the self-made meal, not having one thought about the things that happened earlier.

"Do you want to stay the night?" Looking up at Seonghwa now, you two were cuddled up on the couch, some movie playing in the background. "I have nothing here to sleep over.." You would love to accept, but you neither have sleepwear nor your hygiene products. "You can wear something of mine and I still have unused toothbrushes." Pondering over his offer a bit, before nodding and accepting.

So the evening went on, you two continuing to watch the movie, before getting ready for bed. Finding yourself in the bathroom alone, looking into the mirror, Seonghwas shirt hanging loosely off of your frame. Brushing your teeth before joining Seonghwa in his room. He was already ready for bed, lying down with a book in his hands, glancing up at you when he heard you enter the room. Laying down beside Seonghwa now, your arm moving around his waist as your head comes to rest on his chest, resulting in Seonghwa laying down his book. "So cuddly~ Are you tired?" Nodding as an answer, your eyes dropping closed, listening to him breathe softly, his chest raising, while his arms go around you. Feeling him press a kiss onto the crown of your head. Not even realizing when you fell asleep.

The next morning your back was turned to Seonghwa, his arms holding onto you tightly, his face nuzzled in your neck. Smiling softly when you looked over to his sleeping face, softly running your hand through his hair and pressing a kiss to his cheek, feeling him slowly stir awake. "Morning~" His voice was raspy and deep this morning making you giggle, watching his sleep drowsy self cuddle closer to you. "We have to get up, school is starting soon." Making him groan softly, shaking his head as he hides his face more in your neck, turning you onto your back to lay on you.

So with Seonghwa not wanting to get up, you two stayed put cuddling and skipping the first lesson of school, arriving for the next class then. Walking into the class you walk over to Mingi, sending Seonghwa a soft smile before sitting down. "You skipped school? With Seonghwa?" Whispering over to you shocked now, you look to the side a bit before nodding, this was the first time you actually did anything like that.

The day then goes on, meeting up with Yunho for lunch and then going to class together then.

"By the way, a new club opened this weekend and maybe we could go? It's been a while since we went." Yunho suggests to the two of you, looking at Mingi before nodding with a smile. It's truly been a while since you three went out together, so you were rather hyped. Telling Seonghwa later that day that you're busy on Saturday with Mingi and Yunho, but that you two could meet up on Sunday which he agreed on. The rest of the week goes by rather quickly, with some time spent with Seonghwa, and one evening with Mingi, and now you're finding yourself beside Yunho in his car, Mingi in the back.

Arriving at the club, a lot of people were already near it, the music from inside was loud and the lights peaking through the door whenever someone went inside. Exiting the car together, the three of you enter the club, thick air hitting your face from how many people are there. Following your friends over to the bar, ordering a drink for now, and looking around, it was full, it was amazing to you how there could even be more people inside still. Your eye notices the orange hair of Hongjoong in a booth, was Seonghwa here too? But before you could look around for him, Mingi dragged you to the dance floor, Yunho watching you two with a smile.

The evening went on, enjoying yourself with Mingi on the dance floor, even Yunho joining you two from time to time, before sitting down at the bar again to drink something with your two boys. Not being able to help yourself but look around the room for Seonghwa again, eyes meeting the ones of San for a second, which go wide from the shock that you're there, before they lock onto Seonghwa, your heart dropping in your chest. On his lap was some girl, sucking his face off, his hands all over her. Without a second thought, you stand up and rush out of the door, Mingi and Yunho are in the bathroom right now, walking off to the side outside a bit, before you lean over and empty your stomach in a bin. Suddenly feeling someone holding your hair back, not being able to glance at them as your stomach decides to empty out all the expensive alcohol.

"It's okay, you're fine.." The deep voice calmed you down a bit, a soft hand rubbing over your back. Standing up again finally, a bit wobbly on your feet, San softly holding your arm as he leads you over to a bench, sitting down beside you. "Do you want some water?" Shaking your head no, your eyes staring down at your feet now, why was this happening? After all that happened, you really thought this could be something serious, that Seonghwa felt something for you. But apparently, you were nothing more than a plaything for him. "He's an idiot, he's drunk out of his head.. He drank too much after seeing you with Yunho today.. It's not an excuse but, I believe he truly likes you.." San was such a nice person, trying to calm you down, holding your hair, and now trying to explain the situation to you. Tears were pricking at your eyes now, a soft sob leaving your lips, before your tears could even escape, San pulled you onto his shoulder for you to cry. "It's okay, you're safe, cry as much as you need." Sans's hand was softly rubbing up and down your back, as he leaned back and stared up into the starry night sky.

After a good half an hour, Yunho and Mingi join you outside, Yunho squatting down in front of you, his hands softly resting on your knees. "Hey beautiful, Hongjoong told me what happened, wanna go home?" Your eyes cast down again, looking at Yunhos hands, noticing the blood on his knuckles, but not questioning anything about it as you nod. You wanted nothing more than to get home and cry into your pillow, which would probably still smell like Seonghwa after the last time he slept over.

Yunho softly helped you up, thanking San for his help who just nodded, also noticed the blood on his knuckles, as he watched you leave with Yunho and Mingi. Before he could join his group inside again after watching you drive off, his friends came outside, Seonghwa leaning onto Hongjoong, an ice pack held against his jaw. "Good job, you fucked up with the only girl that felt something for you other than wanting to fuck you, seriously get a grin Hwa, I'm disappointed." San was someone who hated when people played with others' feelings like that, that's also why he immediately rushed after you when you went outside, the reason he stayed with you, and the reason he now walks in the other direction of his friends.

Yunho and Mingi just dropped you off at your place, telling them to go home and that you would be fine, watching them drive off before going into your apartment. Closing the door behind you, as you slide down the door, not even bothering to turn the lights on. Legs pulled up to your chest as you hid your face in your knees, the position and situation oh so familiar. Your body does not even have enough energy anymore to stand up and move to your bed or even couch, resulting in you falling asleep on the floor and waking up with a headache and back pain the next day.

Look around a bit as you sit up, rubbing over your eyes as you slowly stand up, walking over to your kitchen to grab a glass of water before sitting down on your couch, the events of last night resurfacing again making tears well up again in your eyes. This all felt so surreal, Seonghwa acted so sweet and loving once and act like an asshole the next. The day went on with you crying, eating ice cream, crying, and watching a comfort movie. Till your phone lights up, one of your girlfriends messaging you, Soyeon telling you that Yunho told her what had happened. She was one of the closest female friends you had and Yunho probably thought you just needed some female support right now, not being mad at him for telling her.

You want to answer her, but the next moment a knock at the door makes you look up. Walking over to open, seeing Soyeon and Yuqi together, bags in their hands as they hug you tightly. "You know fuck that guy, we'll doll you up and go out. No disgusting club, but this high-end lounge!" Soyeon pushes you into the bathroom, telling you to take a shower. Sighing a bit, despite not being in the mood, you appreciate it and do as they tell you. Coming out again they sit you down on your couch, getting started on your makeup, hair, and nails, turning you prettier than you felt in a while.

So soon you found yourself in Soyeons car, on the way to that longue they were talking about, short yet modern dress on your body, your hair and makeup done beautifully. Inside you three get shown to a booth, sitting down as you scan through the menu of drinks, ordering your favorite beverage. The evening goes by smoothly, you are enjoying yourself, even getting up to dance with one of the girls now and then. It was an entirely different setting than the club last night and you had to admit you enjoyed this so much more. It was more comfortable and enjoyable.

That was until you decided to go up to the bar to get another drink, Soyeon and Yuqi were on the dancefloor right now. When you suddenly feel someone lay a hand on your waist, turn around to push the hand away. "Excuse me, could you please not touch me?" The man in front of you was dressed rather well, but oh damn was he ugly. "Oh come on babe, don't be like that~ I could show you some good time hm? Can even pay you~" He grabbed your waist now, pulling you against himself which made you so disgusted, this didn't feel like when Seonghwa did it, Seonghwa was soft yet dominant, this man was simply a pervert and disgusting. "Let go! Leave me alone!" Trying to push the man away, you looked around behind the counter but the bartender was nowhere to be seen until you felt the man let you crash into the bar before falling to the floor.

"Listen when my girl tells you to leave her alone." Before you could even look at the man beside you he spoke up, Seonghwas voice echoing through the longue, the man stood up again ready to punch Seonghwa back, who quickly pushed you behind him and landed another hit on the man's face. Landing a kick to his chin when he was on the floor, before turning to you, grabbing your hand, and dragging you to the exit. And even further outside, Seonghwa didn't let go and pulled you even further away from the longue.

"Seonghwa you're hurting me! Let go!" Trying to pull your wrist away, trying to stop him. He finally stops making you almost crush into his back. "What's gotten into you?! First, you say we aren't serious, then you screw around with some bitch yesterday and now you beat someone up and pull me away?! Explain it!" He wasn't looking at you, probably trying to find his words. By now the makeup Yuqi so carefully put onto you was being washed off by your tears. Tears of confusion, anger, and sadness. "I have no way to excuse The first thing I know this is that, I saw you and Yunho so close yesterday. I got drunk and wasn't thinking straight, then I saw this asshole touch you right now. I'm sorry.." Seonghwa finally turned to you, meeting your eyes, hesitatingly reaching out to wipe the tears away, scared you would pull away and leave him for good. Your eyes move to his hand, grabbing it softly and analyzing it, seeing the second time in two days that someone's knuckles bleed.

"Why do you have to be so confusing? I.. I though we could be something more, something serious.." Your fingers softly rub over the back of his hand, looking up at him now, eyes blurry from tears, seeing the bruise on his jaw and just a little bit you thank Yunho and think Seonghwa deserves it. "I'm not used to commitment, I never had a serious relationship and.. I. scared, I know I'm not good enough but.. please give me one last chance." Tears were building up in his eyes now and you're pretty sure, you're the first one to see Seonghwa cry. Your hand reaches up to his face softly, brushing the tears away. "One last chance, if you screw over again I'll leave.." His eyes widen, probably not thinking you would give him one last chance, nodding now as sobs leave his lips, his arm reaching out to you and pulling you against him as he cries his heart out, same as you, tears running freely. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..I love you.." You two simply hold each other tightly under the night sky.

"Wooyoung shut up!" Hongjoong put down the popcorn on the table as he scolded the young man, who just points his tongue at him, making the older one wonder if he was an adult or a child. "He won't change, we just gotta accept that." Mingi laughs as he settles down beside San and Yeosang, grabbing a handful of candy from the bowl on Sans's lap. "And that's why we love him." You giggle, making Seonghwa let out a gasp. "I thought you only loved me!" Looking over at your boyfriend now, as Yunho stands behind him and laughs. "She loves all of us, gets used to it." Running away to the couch to Mingi before Seonghwa could hit him for his words.

"He's right but. I love you the most~" Pulling him down for a soft kiss, hearing some gagging noise of San and Wooyoung from the couch. After sitting down with Seonghwa, Hongjoong turns to the two of you. "By the way, it's your third anniversary soon isn't it? Have you two planned something?" Looking over to Seonghwa now, you two haven't talked about any plans yet, but he just smirked at you. "Maybe I booked us a two-week trip to Paris~" Looking at him shocked now, he didn't right? Seonghwa did earn enough now after university with his job to do this, but you didn't think he actually would. "You didn't right?" He just smiled at you, as you threw your arms around him and planted kisses all over his face, telling him how excited you are to go there together. Not knowing the small velvet box sitting on his nightstand was also ready to be taken there.

[thegoogoomuckkk]

breakfast, lunch, & dinner pt. 2 -> the jjk men tend to have a healthy appetite when it comes to you -> hiromi higuruma, satoru gojo, shiu kong, suguru geto, takuma ino

hiromi works so hard, & he’s just so tense all the time, carrying so much on his shoulders. but, if anything, that weight falls off when he’s got your legs hiked up over his shoulders, face buried in your heavenly cunt. he’s diligent about it, tongue sliding against all those places that have you falling apart on him. it’s his love language, it’s his favorite pastime, he could spend hours in between your legs if you let him, & why wouldn’t you when he’s so attentive, so sweet, sitting you on top of his face, & pulling you down, so gentle & yet so debauched, gaining his own delicious pleasure from it. oh, he’s hard? he didn’t even notice, he’s cum in his briefs twice now & he’s not about to start worrying about it now. 

(the nose, the nose, the nose, the nos—)

satoru knows your body like the back of his hand, every little movement is so perfectly designed to have you creaming all over his face. when he knows so much about you, he’s able to tease you. you just fall apart for him, at the simplest things, & you get mad at him for it too.

“st-stop teasin’ me,” you’d whine after the fifth time of his hot breath ghosting over your cunt, innocent kisses falling against your inner thighs. “just-just do something already.” 

“do what?” he’d mock, tongue sliding against the lips of your pussy, tingling sensations coursing through you body. he’d get off on it, the way you would grab him by the scalp, soft hair taut between your fingers, & shove his face in your cunt, showing him exactly what to do, as if he didn’t already know. he just wanted his pretty girl to tell him. 

“where d’ya think you’re going?” shiu sneers, gripping the fat of your ass so tight it’ll surely leave bruises for tomorrow. 

“c-can’t take any-anymore, shiu, too much s’too much,” you babble, trying to pull away from his tongue lying flat against your oversensitive cunt, nose prodding against the taut of your asshole. 

“you can, pretty, & you will, ‘cause you’re gonna be good & sit still for me, aren’tcha?” of course you are, always so good for him, that’s what makes him what to stick his tongue in you every night because it always has you dumb & soft & pliant for him to fuck you afterwards. 

it’s a game to suguru, how fast can he make his pretty girl cum. don’t take that wrong, though, he’s certainly not in a rush; he just knows you all too well: the soft sighs as he trails kisses down your abdomen, grinning as it tightens against his lips, ticklish; the whines the spill from your lips as he noses at your folds, fingering them apart so he can get the best view of his favorite thing; the pretty mewls you choke out as he sucks on your clit, abusing the poor thing; the downright filthy moans that he pulls from you as he slips a finger in next to his tongue, & that’s all it takes for you to cum on his skilled tongue. 

it’s not that he’s trying to expedite the process by any means, suguru just loves to bring you pleasure, maybe a little too much, you think. he’s a little. . .sadistic with it, because as quickly as you fall apart on his tongue, well that’s how fast he's starting back up again, if he ever even stopped. 

back to front, & front to back ‘til you’re a sobbing mess, & takuma's looking up at you saying, “don’t you like it, pretty? doesn’t it feel good? huh? so why are you cryin’ then?” & if you had any sense left you’d make him regret that, but this is takuma’s place to shine. he can’t hardly contain himself when you’re sitting on his cock, or rubbing your tits on it, but when he’s face to face with your perfect, dripping cunt, he’s able to focus a little more—only a little more. 

he likes to lick fat stripes with his tongue over your panties, slipping them to the side sticking his tongue right in you ‘cause he can’t keep his girl waiting. he’s messy with it, too, not caring that he’s a slobbering mess all over your pussy, spitting on it even though you’re already so wet for him. 

did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

It’s SO funny to me when I see movie fans writing alex as this daddy dom, himbo guy because Alex is so!!!

If you scream at him a little too loudly he’ll probably cry, just not in front of you. He falls in love really hard and deeply but it takes him so long to accept that he can also be loved hard and deeply! He has the highest grades ever 1) because he’s smart and 2) because he bases his self worth on making others proud, on being useful. He overworks himself, he runs to clear his head until his feet bleed, his coffee is bitter but so are his thoughts. He’s a softie, who writes his bf love letters and who probably giggles and kicks his feet while reading what henry writes back to him. He can absolutely destroy you in a debate, don’t even try to argue with him he’ll win each time. He talks a lot but he has never been listened to. His rivalry with Henry started with a bad meeting and also with constant comparison, because everyone compared them both, and it was just a constant reminder than Alex will never be enough. Henry was born on the spotlight, Alex wasn’t. Henry was white, Alex wasn’t. Henry had everyone’s support, Alex didn’t. *He is a jester and a devoted knight. He knows hundreds of fun facts and will tell you. He loves Texas despite the bad memories of his childhood and teen years it brings. He feels guilty for making his sister worry so much. He loves his mother despite everything, and she loves him too, but they have an unusual, almost unhealthy relationship. He needs to prove himself every minute of the day. He works as a distraction. He puts on a façade around everyone, golden boy, America’s heartthrob, no one sees his house key, his glasses, the hundreds of papers hidden under the windowsill, the pills stolen from Liam. Someone teach this man healthy coping mechanisms. He is a child of divorce, and this affects him more than he lets on. He is actually a huge nerd. He grew up poor. He was in denial about his sexuality for years. He definitely has abandonment issues. He might be impulsive sometimes (storming Kensington palace after being ghosted by Henry) but he usually thinks things through, and is very reasonable. He makes lists, tons of them. He has undiagnosed adhd and this has shaped him as a person in a way I can’t even describe. Before Henry, bea, and Pez, he didn’t have any friends aside from Nora and his sister. He grew up catholic. He is a romantic. And a dork. He is just as passionate about history as Henry is. But Nora makes friends, and Alex ends up with acquaintances who think they know him because they’ve read his profile in New York Magazine, and perfectly fine people with perfectly fine bodies who want to take him home from the bar. None of it is satisfying—it never has been, not really, but it never mattered as much as it does now that there’s the sharp counterpoint of Henry, who knows him. Henry who’s seen him in glasses and tolerates him at his most annoying and still kissed him like he wanted him, singularly, not the idea of him.

Always the talker, never the heard. Always good, never enough. Always ogled, never seen. Always the first son, never Alex.

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Just a little something I've written at work bcs I finished everything already aaaa

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, poisoning, gn!reader

Yandere!Vil who, everytime you go out with your friends or go on a date with an undeserving, ugly boy, makes you a smoothie. It's the best smoothie you ever had. And while you love to drink and would love to ask for a seconds, Vil denies you. Because isn't healthy or something like that.

Yandere!Vil who puts a little something on the smoothies you so willing drink. Sometimes it's laxative, sometimes a harmless poison. Either way, by association, everytime you go out with your friends you feel sick. Your whole body shudders, your stomach hurts, there's a cold sweat clinging to your skin as your vision start to blur. And your friends only think you're lying about because you don't want to hang out with them anymore, so they just don't invite you anymore.

Yandere!Vil who wipes your tears because you don't know why you're getting sick so often and because of how frustrating it is that your so called friends started to ghost you with no reason. Also yandere!Vil who tells you that if they're ghosting you just because of this they aren't truly your friends.

Yandere!Vil who offers you another smoothie with a antidote. So whenever you are with him, you don't feel sick, in fact, you are healthier than ever, your skin is glowing, your hair is shiny, nothing hurts. And so you think it's because Vil is your safe haven, the one who shields you from everything and everyone. And you are so far from the truth, it's kind of adorable to him.

[percy-puppy]

Headcanon: Thinking of the 141!men having an afab!partner with body hair.

About: CoD Men || Task Force 141

CW: 18+ Blog/Post | MDNI, afab!reader, reader with body hair, pubic hair, talks about bullying in school, judgment, puberty, insecurity, sex (oral/reader receiving, PIV/penetrative sex, switch!dynamic, body worship, s&m), hair pulling, not proofread

A/N: Anyone else struggling with posting on the smartphone app? Like Tumblr? What's going on? Anyway, this is for my bestie who ranged about the lack of representation. @mothymunson 💕

🎀Price: Price is a hairy, hairy man. God, he is so fuzzy, and it's so hot. Obviously, he doesn't care if his partner is hairy, either. It would be hypocritical of him, really. In fact, he would be an encouraging force. It's lots of work to keep shaved and smooth, and should you feel comfortable with just no longer shaving, then why not? He is happy when you are, and just because society expects something doesn't mean you have to obey. Price would support it fully, showering you with praise as you unlearn the old “values” taught from a way too early age and drop the trauma all the comments in your puberty gave you when body hair became more prominent. He teaches you a new, healthy form of confidence and, in the shortest time, “It's just hair, love.”

🎀Soap: Johnny is… Let's be honest; that man is a feral mutt. He might shave sometimes, not often, though honestly, but body hair on his partner? He can't explain it, but that bush gets him going. He is one to drop the “the wilderness must be explored” sentence when you first get together and are insecure about his reaction. He will beg you to let him eat you out, swearing on everything that's holy to him that he doesn't mind your pubic hair at all. And, damn, he isn't lying. He doesn't care, although he does—It makes him feral. The following hours are spent with the scot’s head between your legs. Also, before you bother to worry, a hair on his tongue will just be removed, “It's locks, bonny. Happens sometimes,” he’d laugh, and go back to work, nose buried in your hair as he sucks on your clit.

🎀Gaz: That boy is always shaved. It's his personal preference. When you first mention your difference (cause a man with a negative reaction isn't even worth your time), he is surprised. It's not in a bad way, though. He just knows enough people are giving in to the pressure of shaving. He is curious, ashamedly so. You see, the curiosity effect when somebody tells you they have a piercing down there? That's what it feels like for him now. He’d sheepishly ask to take the next step, unsure what he even expects since it's just hair at the end of the day. But once you take things to the next level, it suddenly clicks. It's your confidence—the raw, unashamed, natural being. You're unashamedly yourself, every imperfection perfection, and your most potent weapon. When he hit puberty, he was insecure for a long time before he had his glow-up. He was never tall or beefy enough, just always picking himself apart by comparing himself to others. Today, he is confident as hell, but the 13-14-year-old boy he once was would be on his knees worshipping a person like you, just fully defying social expectations. He always felt a little bit like worshipping you, but your naked form bouncing on top of him absolutely breaks him. He babbles praises between panting and moaning, hands moving over every inch of your body. “You're so hot. Shit, don't stop, you're just so- fuck. Fuck me. God, please.” He did not know he was a switch, and all he needed was a confident partner.

🎀Ghost: Simon isn't nearly as hairy as the other men. He sometimes trims his pubic hair, but mostly, he just isn't hairy enough to even care about it. He also doesn't care about your hair. It's just hair. But at night, his sadistic side comes through. During sex, he will tug on your bush for fun, sometimes just shortly before slapping your tit, sometimes he’ll just pull and pull like a maniac while fucking into you. The delicious pain sends electric shocks through your sobbing cunt as he pounds you toward orgasm. Should you ever shave or trim it, he will most definitely pout a little as he lost his favorite toy. Thankfully it's just hair, it’ll grow back, and until then, he’ll focus on slapping your clit and pulling your nipples. It's okay. He’ll survive.

[chaethewriter]

You're dead to me [11]

Dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

A/N: at last, I'm back. It's been a while since I looked back at an "x reader" this satisfied. I'm still trying my best getting back into writing frequently, so I'm still looking and stuff. Either way, enjoy and tell me when you think. <3

previous part

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Drip. Tap. Crack.

A killing silence filled the room. Your siblings had left the space, as well as Norm, leaving you alone in the (dis)comfort of your father's presence. His breath was heavy as he lied there, on the operating table. Elbows resting behind him, keeping his body up. You sat next to him in one of those uncomfortable folding chairs. The ones you sat on during birthday parties, when it was too crowdy and the usual seats were occupied. You didn't know what you thought when you has begged Neteyam to bring you here, no plan on mind other than knowing your father was fine.

Drip. Tap. Crack.

The silence was deafening.

Killing you inside. Slowly.

"I didn't know what I would have done if you..." his voice was hoarse as he spoke. Which was understandable, coming from someone risen from the death. You scoff under your breathe, shaking your head in the progress as you knew the end of his sentence.

"You... you were the one that.. you..", you had a hard time forming that sentence, so you just settled on the most obvious one, hoping that the conversation could from out of it.

"why did you do it?"

A stupid question in Jake's eyes. What did you mean why? Why he protected you? Wasn't it obvious why he did so?

"I'm your father."

You scoffed again. One that held more grudge into the tone, "You're also their father."

And the conversation you hoped to start, had started. A conversation that was inevitable. A conversation that was needed in order to maintain a healthy relationship among a family. A conversation only you could start and hope to end well.

He didn't answer your comment, keeing his mouth sealed and watching you from the operation table, a side eye. Not a judging expression, but one that held shame. As if deep down he knew what you meant.

"You have been treating your children so.. horribly. The pressure on Neteyam, the punishments for Lo'ak, no attention flashed to Tuk and Kiri is basically a ghost. And then I come along, after not seeing me for two decades and you treat me like your only daughter? Do you know how that makes them feel? How that makes ME feel?"

You gasp for air as the words leave your lips in one sentence. During this, you watch your father's expression. His gaze was now on his lap. Ashamed of himself. Tommy's words already made him realize how he had been acting, but hearing them from a living person, hearing them from you, was so much different. So much more realistic than talking to a dead person in his head.

"You threw your kids even more to the side when I entered the picture. It made me feel so cruel, as if I stole their father away. Since I had missed that father figure as much as they do. The only person that had a father figure was Tuk and it was Neteyam. God dad, he's only fifteen! He should be a kid, not a father figure to his own sister!"

That cracked his heart, but you didn't care for the moment. You had to make him realize what kind of person he became. Only then, when that realization settled in, could all of you heal and continue forward.

"Neteyam is fifteen.. do you know how young that is? That would be highschool on earth! And even if Na'vi age works differently, he's still a boy! He should be growing up properly, have free time and hang out with teenagers his age. He shouldn't be babysitting 24/7 while still being a kid himself, that's your job. He should be your son first, and the future Olo'eyktan second."

Your eyes had teared up once again at the sight of Neteyam's hurt, his exhaustion, the smile that quite didn't reach his eyes.

You continued.

"You're so terribly hard on Lo'ak. He's reckless, always causing trouble which makes him the center of attention." You chuckled soft at your own words, "but have you ever wondered why he acts this way? Have you EVER went up to him, put your arm around his shoulders and asked if he was alright? Instead of always cutting him off? You spend so much time doing other stuff and when you turn to Lo'ak it's for punishng him. He just wants your attention, as his father. Do you know how damaging it is that he accepts that he could only grab your attention by doing stupid stuff?"

No, you weren't done yet.

"Tuk and Kiri. Such beautiful girls with kind hearts. Smart too, they know what they want. Do you know how they like to spend their free time?"

You tilted your head to the side, pursed lips as you awaited his answer. That never came and it only showed your words right. It honestly made you scoff in embarrassment.

"And after treating all your beautiful children like crap, you took me in like I was the only person in the world. You cared for me, set your attention on me and you thought that was right?"

You slowly got up from your, shaking your head furiously, "if this is the way you're going to parent... then I don't even want to call you my dad."

"I hate you papa!!" You sobbed loudly as you hugged your knees to your chest, soft whines leaving your lips with snot dripping down your nose. Your father hadn't been paying attention to you in a week. You were a very independent child. You could make yourself cereals and a cup of lemonade, but you needed that emotional connection. Something you hadn't gotten from anyone in days. He had been stressed, spending his hours with his nose buried in the screen and drinking away during his free time. You understood he was busy, but he had a full child at home, in need of attention. Without the proper attention you needed, you had thrown your tantrums. Throwing pillows, ripping folders and trying to empty the loads of vodka bottles in the cupboards. He had tried to ignore those silly tantrums of yours, just assuming it was because you're young. Yet when you emptied a bottle of alcohol on the floor, because you missed the sink with your tiny short legs, hell broke lose. He had screamed at you and grabbed harshly at your forearms, something he promised himself to never do to you. When he let go of you out of the horror of his own reaction, you had crawled to a corner out of fear, crying your heart out as the words escaped your lips. 'I hate you, daddy.' The words echoed through his head, like a taunt of how bad of a father he had been to you for the past days. His hand rested on the wheels of his wheelchair as he made his way towards you, slowly yet steadily. You had sobbed that you wanted him to stay away, since he was good at that up until a moment ago.

"I'm so sorry baby.." he took you in his arms, on his lap despite your punching and screaming. He held you, hugging you close, allowing you to punch and scream your frustrations out. It seemed to help, as your sobs slowed down, as well as your aggressive punching. With you cuddled up in his lap, he rolled towards the kitchen and took his two biggest bottles of alcohol in his hands. He nudged you and you looked up at him, a clear frown on your face as you saw him holding the familiar bottles. Your father smiled at you, uncapping the bottles and emptying its contents into the sink. You watched him, loud squeals leaving your lips as you smacked at the bottle while he did so. You didn't know what alcohol was, but you knew that when your daddy touched it, he wasn't your daddy anymore.

"Missed daddy.."

"I missed you too baby.. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, for everything." Parallels. Ironic. Your father had grabbed your hand, keeping you from walking (crawling due to your injuries) away. The words left his lips with a hitch, a soft breath that was stuck in his throat. You turn your head at his words, wondering if you heard them well. Jake had pulled you towards him, sitting on the same table as him.

"I'm sorry." His words were firm now, determined, laced with confidence. "I'm sorry for leaving you. I'm sorry for putting you in a tough position on Pandora. I'm sorry for being unfair to the family I called my fortress. I'm sorry for tearing this family apart. I'm sorry for letting you down during your entire life." He didn't know what he wanted to reach with his apologies, but the moment they left his lips it felt as if a weight lifted from his chest. As if he could talk about it all now, with you.

"I wanted the best for us two, I wanted you to grow up well, without problems. Get into the besr schools, a job to live comfortably without worrying about money.. but I needed money to fulfill this wish. So I left. I left for a job that could pay for everything you needed. I left with the promise I would return, but I-"

"But you didn't." You cut him off, lips quivering as the tears continued to pool, "you forgot about the promise and left me alone."

He shook his head in response, "I didn't forget, oh eywa, I could never. I was.. ashamed? I went against my biological people and I didn't get money I promised to get you. I failed as a dad, I thought I didn't deserve to see you anymore.. so I stayed. I stayed and it was wrong of me to do so." His hand made their way to your wrists as he pulled you close to him, hugging you tight as if you would disappear were he to let you go.

"I now see how wrong this was of me. I should have asked you about it. What you thought, what you wanted. You were so young, yet you knew exactly what you wanted. I should have remembered how smart of a girl you were and still are. It was wrong of me to make that decision on my own."

It all came crashing down on you. All of a sudden, you were a clueless child again. That same clueless child from over a decade ago. The same child that cried to her hearts content as she came to know that her daddy left her without an explanation and didn't return. You cried at his chest, clawing at his blue skin as he craddled you like a baby. His baby, his daughter.

"It must have been confusing for you, suddenly being on a new planet and your dad unrecognizable to you. Then suddenly he pulls you in once he knows who you are to him, never directly speaking about everything that had happened.." there was no point in apologizing anymore. He could only understand, learn and be a better father for you. Only through his actions, he could apologize truthfully.

It was quiet for a while. A comfortable silence. Not the killing, awkward silence that filled the room not so long ago. The only thing heard were your soft sobs, as well as the soft kisses of reassurance that were pressed against your hair. Jake was loss in thoughts, wondering what he should say next. He knew he had to start about what you had said, about your siblings, about his kids.

But where could he possibly start?

He didn't want to fuck up again. He had to think carefully of what to say next.

"What about Teyam, Lo'ak, Kiri, Tuk?" Your voice cracked, hurt laced in your voice as you spoke. The mention of their names cracking something within Jake.

"They..." he took a deep breath, before continuing, "I projected my fears on them. I never got to fulfill the dreams I had for you and I projected that on Neteyam. He has an amazing future ahead of him, but I let my fears consume me. He's so talented, but he's incredibly young and he's missing out on his childhood. Him having fun won't change the way he acts. He has always been intelligent and very thoughtful."

You nodded your head in agreement and he could feel it against his skin. "Teyam's incredible, but he deserves a breather from time to time. I promise you, he won't slack off."

With that, Jake had to agree.

"Lo'ak.. reminds me of myself. Reckless, a headless chicken even." The both of you chuckle at that statement and Jake looked back at his first year on Pandora. He was reckless, stupid, embarassing.

"I see myself in him. Like someone chasing you in a dream, but you can't get away. It reminded me of my past mistakes, so I punished him in the hopes to witness his improvements. I never looked at it from a bigger perspective. He must have wondered why his dad treated him like shit.." he huffed at the irony of it all.

"Speak to him, spend time with him. Teach him the things you teach Teyam. Believe me, you will notice improvements in your relationship."

He nodded in agreement at your words.

"Kiri, Tuktirey. My beautiful girls.. I don't know why I barely bat an eye to them. Could it be because it reminded me of you? That it hurt to spend time with them out of shame for how I treated you? Or because I was too busy with my role as Olo'eyktan? I don't know, but it wasn't right of me. They don't deserve that treatment of being disregarded."

You smile at him, your father. Proud for finally speaking his heart out. "You should tell them, you know? Speak with them. Make things right. I know confronting the problem at hand might be hard, but you're the leader of an entire clan. This is supposed to be easy for you." You almost teased him for having an easier time being the leader of a clan while at war than being a father to a family.

He then gripped at your forearms. It wasn't a hard grip, more out of desperation. "I will make it right. Not only for you, but for my kids and mate, as well. I want to make it right with my family, so please, stay as well. Even if this might be a selfish request of me. You are my daughter, OUR daughter. And you have four siblings that accepted you faster than ever. So please, stay."

You bit down on your bottom lip. You didn't have much left on earth, expect the colonel. Would she be angry with you if you decided to stay? Just like you were angry with your dad? Or would she be proud that you had finally found the happiness you deserved?

Was it okay for you to be selfish?

A frown made its way on your voice as you look up at him, "but I don't belong here. I'm a human."

Did you yourself even believe that statement? There were a lot of humans left on Pandora, whom even lived among the people.

"You're just trying to convince yourself that you don't belong here so that you won't feel guilty." You scoffed. He could read you like a book.

"You belong here, with us. You know?"

You didn't reply. Instead, you wrapped your arms around father, squeezing the life out of him. Who would have known that such a small girl like you could hold him so tightly?

"Babygirl.. honey.." Jake gasped for air, his arms stuck in your tight embrace as he couldn't reach for his mask. You quickly pull away from him, watching him take a hold of the mask at his bedside and taking a deep whiff of Pandoran air.

You watch the entire ordeal in low chuckles.

Everything would be better now.

It has to be.

COMMENT YOUR THOUGHTS <3

[fever-project]

I’m not DEAD, Daniel (2904 words) by FeverProject Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, Danny Phantom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Danny Fenton & Wild (Linked Universe) Characters: Danny Fenton, Wild (Linked Universe), the rest of the LU gang are also there but they aren’t important Additional Tags: This isn’t crack but it sure is silly, very much so for me, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Tired Danny Fenton, Wild (Linked Universe) is a Little Shit, might be ooc hopefully not, Misunderstandings, just a little bit Summary: DPxLU crossover because I couldn’t help myself. Surprised I didn’t do this earlier considering gestures at my everything Wild has an encounter with the Ghost King. It is definitely an experience.

Uhhh fanfic, yeah. I’m going to explode. Art

Enjoy 👍

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Wild was bored. Which wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, but it was one that he hated. It was night time now and he was supposed to be asleep, just like everybody else in the inn. But he wasn’t like everybody else, he already slept for 100 years straight, sleeping was only useful to him if and when he wanted to be more healthy. And sleeping every night was generally considered to be healthy, but Wild didn’t care, he needed to move.

Out the window he went, quiet as a mouse. Hopefully no one would notice he was gone, and that he would be back before morning came. But there was an entire forest nearby to explore, and he felt like he could-no, should explore to his heart’s content. The wilderness called to him, beckoned him in. That’s what he kept repeating to himself in his mind anyway, as a way to reassure himself, that as a hero who had saved Hyrule, sneaking out at night and potentially worrying the other heroes wouldn’t be a stupid thing to do. Zelda would’ve thought otherwise, and he knew that, but tried not to think about it too much.

The forest was mostly quiet, save for things like the chirping of birds and crickets. The faint rustling of trees was like music to his ears. There was a light breeze, which felt nice against his face as he ventured further into the forest. He tried his best to walk in as straight of a line as he could, to more easily find his way back. He really wished his Sheikah Slate worked properly in this time, maps made everything much easier. But then he would have to go searching for those towers, and while as fun as they were to activate, took up far too much time, much more than he and his group were currently willing to spare.

Wild was suddenly on edge. That odd shapeshifting, Lizalfos-looking, portal opening thing was still out there. Not to mention the black-blooded monsters that thing infected. Wild sighed as walked, now paranoid and frustrated. After a few moments of that, he finally gained enough brain cells to figure out that he should probably head back. With another sigh, which was more of a groan, he spun on his heel, turning around to make his way back to the inn.

Soon enough, something in the air…shifted, he couldn’t tell what. An oddly familiar yet unnatural feeling enveloped his senses as the sky started to turn into an odd shade of pinkish purple. The few clouds up in the sky, only a slightly lighter shade than the sky itself, swirled around above him, as the space in front of him split. Wild felt his heart drop and his breath leave his body as the rift continued to grow. Green glowing light bleed out from it, lighting up the trees and grass and him. Something was happening, something bad, and it was targeting him. He stumbled back, he had to, he had to get away and yet. And yet. It was calling to him. It was scaring him, the world behind the rift hated and loved him all the same.

Wild had to escape.

Wild tried to breathe, in and out, slowly, calmly, he looked for a way out. Trees, there were only trees and more trees and bushes and grass and even more trees-slowly, in and out, his breathing, his breath. He was alive, and he was going to make sure he would stay that way, bright green portal notwithstanding. The portal was growing bigger, quickly, but not as quick as Wild’s mind was when it was panicking. Maybe that meant that panicking was a good thing. Wild almost stopped panicking completely once he realized how stupid that thought sounded. His panic swiftly returned when a white boot stepped out of the portal. When matching white gloves also came out, Wild went to get out his sword and shield, fumbling with his slate as the person emerged from the rift, it closing behind them soon after.

“Excuse me?” The person asked, their words 

echoing, despite the conditions for that to logically happen simply not existing here. Wild stiffened, having only gotten his sword out. But he knew deep within his soul that it wouldn’t be very effective against the higher being standing before him. Yet his grip tightened despite that. He wouldn’t run away, not now, he would try his best to fight this being off if he had to. And if that failed, he would retreat, tactically.

The being was dressed in an odd black and white outfit, having tan skin and white hair. Their bright green eyes, glowing body, and their crown that was literally on fire were very clear signs that this person wasn’t anything he’s seen before. Not to mention the hovering. And the portal they just came out of. And the weird voice-and Wild needed to start focusing on the situation at hand.

The being raised their hands up defensively, “Hey, put down the sword, I’m not looking for a fight,” they said, “I’m just. Looking for someone, yeah.”

“Uh huh,” Wild dumbly nodded, keeping his eyes on them.

“Right, okay, let me just-“ they looked around, suspicious at their surroundings, “-okay, don’t tell anyone you saw me, or that you saw this. Actually, it doesn’t matter, forget what I just said.”

Wild nodded again, watching as a ring of light came out of their waist, enveloping them as they donned a more hylian appearance. They had even odder clothes on in this form, baggy and worn. Their skin was paler and their hair was pitch black. They looked like death in the form of a teenage boy.

“Are you Death?” Wild asked blatantly. Listen, he was curious, he need to know this. The being raised an eyebrow at him, confusion evident on his face. “Like,” Wild scrambled to rationalize his less than rational thought process, “I don’t know, you seem scary? And corpse-like? Are you dead? Am I dead-well, no, I can’t be dead, that would be silly, ha. But are you?”

“Well I am the Ghost King, king of ghosts,” they said plainly, with a shrug, “Name’s Danny, Danny Phantom, and that’s really all you know about that. Listen-“

“Aren’t you like, twelve?” Wild knew they probably weren’t twelve, but this ‘Ghost King’ guy looked pretty young.

“What? No! I’m not twelve, I’m like-“ they pouted, like a twelve year old, snapping their fingers in thought, “older than you!”

“Oh yeah, I’m-“ Wild stopped, wondering if it would be smart to tell the Ghost King that he’s technically one hundred and seventeen years old. “I am at least seventeen! And I look like it as well.”

“You’re the same height as me.”

Wild looked at the ghost, glared at them, walking a bit closer to them. He placed his hand on top of his head and moved it forward, towards the Ghost King’s head. His hand brushed against their hair, but it clearly didn’t reach the top of their head. Wild grinned, well, wildly at the sight of being taller than them. They looked unimpressed.

“You’re the one acting like a twelve year old you know,” Danny scoffed, pouting.

“Says the pouter.”

“Look, can you just help me find this guy, since you’ve clearly calmed down now.”

“And why should I?”

“I’ll make your afterlife terrible otherwise.”

“Fine, I’ll help, gosh,” Wild was probably going to help anyways, he liked helping people. He just wanted to be annoying. “So, who and why?”

“Great! So, I’m looking for this guy named Link,” oh no, “Clockwork-he’s a time ghost, don’t worry about him-told me that he was hoping around other times with other guys also named Link.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well-okay, you’re annoying so I’m just going to ignore that-“

“Time isn’t real.”

The two stared at each other, and Wild both wanted to punch himself in the face, and thought he was the funniest man alive. Danny seemed to think the same way too, with their bewildered expression suddenly turned into one holding back a lot of laughter.

“Al-alright, that was good I’ll give you that,” they chuckled, “Anyways, I’m looking for this specific Link because they’re supposed to dead, and I’m supposed to like-do something about that. I think I have a picture of this guy that Clockwork gave me, hold on.” They stuffed their hand through their goddess forsaken chest, and rummaged around like their own body was a mere storage container. Wild was instantly jealous of them. Sure he had his Sheikah Slate, but it wasn’t a part of his body.

Wait, Danny had a picture of him. Oh no, they were going to kill him. He didn’t need them to say word for word that they were going to kill him, but Wild didn’t know what else they could do to him. He needed to be on his toes and hone his quick reflexes in order to survive this ordeal.

“Annnd-nope, that’s my thermos-here it is!” They pulled out a piece of folded paper, and just as they started to unfold it, Wild snatched it from their hand and shoved it into his mouth.

“Wha-WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!” Danny shrieked, hands on the side of his head, horrified.

“‘Cause,” Wild responded in a muffled voice, chewing the paper. Tasted inky.

“Okay, you are definitely the weirdest person I’ve ever met, an I know a ghost who whole personality is boxes, just boxes. Actually, I don’t think he’s that weird compared to some other fruitloops I know of-but that doesn’t matter, spit that out!”

“No.”

“You are acting like a twelve year old-no, even twelve year olds wouldn’t do this, you’re five.”

Wild gasped, photo smushed to the side of his mouth, in between his cheek and teeth so it wouldn’t fall out.

“You’re just mad I’m right.”

“Nah uh!”

“Then how about you spit that out, like a normal, seventeen-you’re seventeen right?” Wild nodded, “Right, like a normal seventeen year old would, or I’ll phase it out of your mouth by force.” Wild did not like sound of that. So he spit out the photo, the slobbery mess falling onto the grass. Even Wild was grossed out by what he had done. Danny clearly was.

“You’re going to have to unfold that yourself, I’m not touching that,” Danny looked sick.

“Yeah, that’s fair, I’ll do that,” why wasn’t the paper metal, then he could use his Sheikah Slate to pick it up. Good thing he had some spare gloves stored in it, so it was fine, it’s fine. He started to unfold the paper, Danny peering over his shoulder, both with matching disgusted expressions. Wild was right about the contents of the drawing. His face, blast scars and all, was right there. Wild looked at Danny. Danny looked at him. Wild wanted to punch them in face and run off, but they are a ghost. But Wild still slowly raised his free hand into a fist, retaining eye contact.

Danny began to speak, “So-“ Wild swiftly punched them in their face, and skittered backwards, trying to look for a way back to the inn safely. The ghost had stumbled back, clutching their face in pain.

“Huh, so you can punch ghosts,” Wild noted.

“You can definitely punch this ghost,” Danny rubbed their hurt nose, “Didn’t even get me a chance to speak.”

“Please don’t kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you, that’s not what I’m here for.”

“Oh.”

“Bet you feel stupid now, don’t ya?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

Danny sighs, pinching their nose, not in pain this time, but annoyance. “So,” they started again, “what I’m trying to do is get you on the ‘Supposed to be Dead but Came Back Anyways’ census. Basically, the name’s a work in progress.”

“And…I’m supposed to do something about it?”

“Kinda? Look, just sign here, and I’ll get out of your hair.” They pulled out another piece of paper out of their chest, with already had a few other names on it in neat little boxes. Wild couldn’t read any of those names, but Danny probably could.

Wild’s face scrunched up, trying to think about what he should do next. They hadn’t really explained their reasoning for any of this, so he still didn’t trust them too much. Maybe this was some elaborate ruse to kill him.

“Will me signing this ‘census’ give me any benefits-will it give you any benefits?” Wild pointed accusingly at Danny.

“Well, are you dead?”

Wild groaned, “I’m not DEAD Daniel,” Wild threw his hands into the air in frustration, “Just use your stupid ghost words to explain to me what I need to do and why.”

“Okay,” Danny squeaked out, “But first off, name’s just Danny.”

“Uh huh.”

“And secondly, I’m doing this because there’s a bunch of ghost legal jargon where your name was already listed on both the ‘dead,’ and then also the ‘not dead’ list after you came back to life. You signing this will help fix that.”

“…Aren’t I time traveling right now?”

“Yes, but it’s still good to note down who had came back to life. Please just make my life easier, this is themost stress inducing part of my job I’ve ever done.”

Wild was starting to feel a bit bad now. So now, with a better understanding of the situation, he took the paper from Danny’s hands.

“Here’s a pen to write with,” Danny gave him a pen from their chest.

“Can all ghosts store stuff in their bodies?” Wild asked as he wrote down his name in the next free box, adding on his title of ‘Hero of the Wild’ in the same box, just to specify things.

“No, but I sure can,” they said with a big smile.

“That’s so cool.”

“I know.”

The two laughed a bit as Wild returned the paper and pen to Danny.

“Well, sorry for not explaining my motivations fully, I’m a bit…tired, ha ha,” Danny rubbed the back of their neck, clearly embarrassed.

“Yeah. Sorry for punching you.”

“Now I’m going to go take a nap. Or sleep for once.” A ring of light enveloped Danny yet again, returning him to his more ghostly form. Then he turned around and held out his hand, before cutting the space there, opening the bright green portal.

“See you in the Ghost Zone, Link! Eventually!” They waved as they stepped into the rift.

Wild waved back, “That sounds pretty ominous, but okay!” Danny laughed at that as he went all the way through, the portal closing soon after. Now Wild was left all alone in the woods.

He needed to get back to the inn.

It took him some time, but he eventually found his way back to the inn. In through the window, as quiet as a ghost, he was back in his room. He flopped down onto his bed, mentally exhausted. He would’ve rather been bored than have had dealt with…whatever that was. Not really, but Wild was certainly ready to go to sleep now, and pray that he wouldn’t have to meet that Ghost King ever again. Not because he was scared, but because he was a bit embarrassed about what happened. He acted a bit stupid there. But none of that mattered now. All that Wild had to do now, was to sleep.

ー

“Has anyone seen the champion yet?” Time asked, looking over the group that were all hanging around the inn’s dining room.

“Nope,” Warriors said with a pop, “He’s likely still asleep.”

“But I’m hungry,” Wind whined, “Captain, do you know how to cook?”

“I know how to make things edible and nutritious,” Wars plainly answered, receiving a few groans from various Links.

“We could just have the food they serve here,” Twilight suggested.

“Champ’s better,” Four retorted.

“How about we all wait a bit longer,” Time said, “It hasn’t even been half an hour since we woke up after all.”

They all muttered their agreements, and choose to occupy themselves with taking count of their resources for the time being. A few more minutes passed before Legend noticed something.

“Hey guys, I think I see the champ coming down right now,” Legend pointed at the staircase, and the other heroes scrambled to see their resident chef stumbling down the stairs.

“Are you doing alright?” Hyrule asked.

“You seem exhausted,” Sky added.

“Ye-yeah,” Wild yawned, stretching his arms, “Ghost problems and all that stuff.” He set out to make some food for his companions, who were looking at him with confusion and concern.

“Ghost problems?” A few of them asked at once.

“Is this place haunted?” Wind looked around with an excited grin on his face.

“Nope, but I sure got haunted in the woods out there,” Wild waved in the vague direction of where the forest was, “Now I’m going to make something to eat, want some?”

Of course they wanted some, food was important. They continued to ask questions about the ghost, but Wild didn’t answer, he didn’t feel like it. Maybe in like, two days he would. But for now, he just wanted to eat some Vegetable Risotto, maybe with a few Endura Carrots thrown in as well. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to deal with that Ghost King again anytime soon. At least, hopefully not before this time traveling adventure ends.

[chaotic-mystery]

Pairing: dbf!Joel miller x f!reader (no outbreak)

Summary: You kissed Joel after you had that terrible fight with your dad and you have no idea what Joel’s thinking now. Did you just ruin everything or will he finally admit he likes you just as much as you do him? What about Michelle?

Content warnings: my blog is 18+ so mdni! Eventual smut, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his 40s) dads best friend, enemies to lovers, slow burn, infidelity, family issues and daddy issues, talks about emotionally absent parent and effects it has, reader not feeling good enough for someone to love them, talks of healthy father daughter relationships, as well as a brief mention of being drunk. Let me know if I’ve missed anything!

|| wc: 4.2k || notif blog @chaoticnotifs || I love u ||

Within a few short moments, Joel was pushing you off him, his breaths shallow and the look on his face was already telling you something before his words did. “Darlin’, I-” He started, and he sighs deeply, great.

“Baby, I think you’re a little drunk. We can talk about this tomorrow, okay? Cmon, let’s getcha inside and get some sleep, lord knows you need it after all that cryin’. His hand smooths down his jeans over his thigh while his other hand takes yours gently, giving it a slight shake. You were sober as one could be but there was no more fight in you to argue, especially not with him.

“Yeah, probably right. Thanks for today, Joel. I appreciate it, more than you’ll ever know.” A soft smile grew on your lips before climbing out of his truck, walking to your front door. You wanted to turn around so badly and follow him into his house to his room, climb into his bed and just be held by him. Instead, you were faced with your cold, empty bed you dreaded laying in because Joel wasn’t there. It didn’t even dawn on you about Michelle until you noticed the last clean shirt you had with the bar logo on it that was hanging in your closet. The last you knew he wasn’t really with Michelle, more so on a break after everything at White Pony.

All night you tossed and turned, constantly looking out your window to Joel’s bedroom window who had a lamp on each time you glanced over. Your dreams were flooded with him, he suddenly consumed your every thought, awake or asleep. He was haunting you, the ghost of his fingertips on your skin, the way his soft lips felt on yours before he pushed you away. To be in the truck again and do it over, to kiss him longer and touch him, feel his skin and how his strong hands felt around your waist, to sit on his lap and just have him hold you right against his chest until he was content.

–

“Sarah cmon, you’re gonna be late, girl!” Joel shouts from the porch and you're awake, eyes fluttering open slowly to look at the ceiling. Sarah climbed out of who you assumed was her mother’s car and shut the passenger side door, running up the sidewalk.

Dad, stop! I’m coming, don’t eat all the pancakes!” Her giggle echoes between your houses and up your window, causing you to smile subconsciously.

Joel went inside before she made it to the porch, and her laugh got quieter as she shut the front door behind her. Soon enough it was quiet once more and you were left alone with yourself. Before you left to come back to Texas, one of your good friends mentioned to you about journaling and how healing it can be for you. With every intention of making it work, you started to dig through your drawers to find the little dyed green leather journal you got from the book store. It’s been through a lot, the way the pages are wrinkled from when it fell in the bathtub one night, some of the corners burnt from sitting next to an open candle flame for too long. Everything on its pages are things from being a kid you’re trying to process, doodles, everything you wish you could say to your dad. Journaling was sometimes helpful but most of the time it left you feeling empty.

If you didn’t harbor the feelings inside and constantly think about it, what were you supposed to feel? Is it normal to feel this empty on a day to day basis and was that something you really looked forward to? You sighed and tugged on your hoodie and pants, walking out into the hall to go downstairs and start your day with a cup of coffee. Ever since Joel watched you make coffee once at work, he hasn’t let up since. Every time he sees you with a travel cup he asks if it's hot or iced, knowing what the answer will be and he’s disappointed every single time.

With your glass almost empty by now and four pages scribbled on, you finally felt comfortable to stop. It was almost like you blacked out writing, not really sure what exactly you wrote down but it brought you that same empty feeling once more so that must’ve meant you were done for the day. A knock on your door takes you from zoning out and you’re met with Joel’s face, a plate of pancakes, and a glass of orange juice.

“Before you start, the orange juice was Sarah’s idea. I know you hate eating breakfast when you first wake up so I figured you’d nibble on these until you’re hungry enough to eat them normally.” His small smile makes your heart skip a beat and you reach out to grab the plate from him, along with the orange juice and you take a small sip, tipping the glass to him with a nod.

“Give Sarah my thanks, yeah?” The awkward silence was killing you and you were hoping he’d bring up last night. He just shoves his hand in his pocket and clears his throat, looking around at the neighbors homes as Joel racks his brain on what to say.

“Joel I-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Darlin’ it’s fine, you were drunk. We’ve all been there before.”

You groaned in annoyance and walked to the kitchen island with the front door wide open, signaling him to follow.

You leaned your ass against the counter top and folded your arms across your chest, glancing out the window above the sink to the left of you. “I wasn’t drunk, okay? I was perfectly sober. I wanted to kiss you, I’ve thought about it a lot and it was something I wanted. I’m sorry if you didn’t feel the same way. I know you’re with Michelle and I know she doesn’t trust me around you and I just gave her all the proof she needs to keep thinking that.” You were rambling out of nervousness and he just stood there and listened, his hands were on his hips while he looked at the floor. The bundle of anxiety was growing in the pit of your stomach and you were worried you just fucked everything up even more by bringing up Michelle.

“I-I just…I needed to know what it’s like to kiss you, Joel. I’m sor-”

“Honey, jus’ stop,...’kay? First of all, Michelle not trusting you isn’t because of you, it’s because she caught me one too many times checkin’ on you at work and she didn’t like it. You are a smart, funny, sarcastic woman and you’re beautiful but baby, you’re so much younger than me, not to mention my best buddy's daughter. This would never work, you and I.” Joel barely whispers the last part of his sentence and his shoulders drop, eyes finally meeting yours. The same rejected feeling crept up and bit you in the ass once more, a common feeling for you from almost every person you’ve met in your life.

“Not to mention you slept with Tommy, couldn’t do that to him.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, shaking your head at Joel. “Oh suddenly you and Tommy care who you share and pass around between the two of you? That’s really rich, Joel, considering he dropped that little nugget about you two tag teaming a girl while his drunk ass had to come get yanked out of my bed?”

Joel’s jaw clenched together and his nostrils flared slightly, the anger in him rising the more you called him out.

“Be careful if you’re gonna run your mouth about shit you don’t know.” The look on his face gave you a slight jumpstart to your heart and excitement in your tummy. He’s sexy when he’s angry but telling him that right now would only make him even more upset.

“So are you saying if I didn’t sleep with Tommy, wasn’t my dad’s daughter, and about twelve years older, I’d have a shot with you?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him and walk over to him slowly with your arms behind your back, trying to look innocent.

Joel however, sees right through your bullshit and chuckles at your attempts to get more answers from him. “Did I say that?” He cocks his head to one side and watches you get close until you stop right in front of him.

“I might be reading between the lines, but oh well. Was I at least a good kisser?” You smirk at him and see the sparkle in his eye, Joel tries to fight back the corners of his lips from curling upwards.

“Why is it so easy for you to piss me off and then you wanna be sweet? You’re a damn sour patch kid.” The annoyance in his tone was only masking the laugh he was containing.

“That doesn’t tell me if I was a good kisser or not, Mr.Miller.” You grab the collar of his flannel and fix it so it laid flat and Joel’s breath hitched when you brushed against his skin.

Joel cracks his fingers in nervousness and hesitates before answering quietly, “I don’t remember, honestly. It was short.”

“Aw, is the age catching up to you, old man?” You tease, batting your eyelashes up at him.

Gently but firm enough to feel it, Joel’s hands meet your hips and squeeze firmly as he leans in, lips ghosting over yours. Now it’s your turn to have your breath hitch and the nervousness bubbled in your stomach.

His eyes close for just a moment before he grumbles,”Yeah I bet you wanna kiss me again. Does it get you all excited, baby? Kissin an older man like me when you’re not ‘sposed to?” He pulls back, standing up straight this time with the evilest grin on his face.

Joel could see you panicking to find an answer, an excuse, something. Without waiting for your answer, he turns on the heel of his boot and heads for the door, leaving you speechless and heart racing in the middle of your kitchen.

“What’s wrong sweet girl, cat got your tongue?” The door was shut before you could come up with a smart ass response to retort. Even worse than a cat having your tongue, Joel Miller had your tongue. If he wants to play this game with you, he’d soon be figuring out how much better at it you were than him. With the warm plate of pancakes calling your name from the marble counter behind you, you pulled back foil and watched the small amount of steam roll up into thin air.

Tearing into the fluffy pancakes, you rip a piece off and put it in your mouth, the butter soaked into the layers but still present. It was good at first and it had been a long time since you had a homemade breakfast. Before you can understand what’s happening, your fingers grip quickly and pull apart piece after piece and shove it in your cheeks as you close your eyes and feel the tears sting. To be cared for by a man who’s old enough to be your dad but isn’t your dad will always be hard for you. Why was it so easy for them to do kind things for you without a second thought but it was like pulling teeth for your own blood? For just a second you felt the jealousy of never having what Sarah and Joel have, that connection and inseparableness of father and daughter. The hot tears fall down your cheeks as your arms drop, no more soft pancake shoved in between your teeth as your brows furrowed in sorrow… anger, confusion…jealousy. It was almost as if a switch flipped and you were yanked out of your dark mindset over a kind gesture from your neighbor.

You grab a napkin from the holder in the middle of the counter and quickly spit out the mush, your vision so blurry and fuzzy from the tears. Your home was quiet with only the fridge buzzing softly and your runny nose sniffling subconsciously. Cold fingers wrap around the orange juice and you bring it to your slightly puffy post-cry lips, taking a small sip and letting the tangy liquid roll down your esophagus. You try to swallow your feelings and bury them deep inside once more to hide away the things you don’t dare talk about with anyone.

What little bit of jealousy still inside you causes you to push the plate away from the end of the counter, groaning in frustration at the meltdown you thought you had controlled.

~

Weeks go by and you haven’t heard much from Joel. His truck was gone when you got up early in the mornings trying to find a new job and his driveway was still empty by the time you were going to bed. Not a single phone call returned to you from him, your red landline phone he made fun of you for buying at a garage sale hardly rang unless it was someone trying to sell fake insurance. Thanksgiving came and went and it was like nothing happened between you and your dad, or at least no one brought it up when you gathered with the rest of your family at his house. They were all surprised to see you since you left years ago with your mother and never visited for the holidays but no one wanted to ruin the day of pretending you were a big happy family. The only people you called while you were away were your grandparents. They were like your best friends, always knew what was going on with you and they wanted better than what you got, they even knew their son made many mistakes when it came to the way he parented you. Even at your age now you still need them how you did as a little girl, clinging to their side when you felt overwhelmed by all the people swarming you asking millions of questions while you’re trying to get a plate of food. You sat in the corner in an uncomfortable chair while you ate your food but all you could seem to think about was Joel, where he was or who he was with, was he even celebrating today? He was probably with Michelle and her family, talking away about how great she is to her parents while the reality was that she was still upset with him over Halloween. They were just like your family, everyone pretending to be something they weren’t. Luckily it went okay without anything bad happening this time but there was still Christmas to come.

With the holiday just passing a couple days ago and still no sign of Joel, you decide to call him just to check up on him. Three rings into the call and you were praying to the universe he didn’t answer, not because you didn’t want him to be okay but you didn’t even know what to say if he did pick up. Just as the fourth ring starts, Joel’s deep voice fills your ear canals.

“H-hello?” He sounds confused at first but then it fades to irritation quickly.

“Joel..? Hey..” You stutter out as you shove the red handset into the crook of your shoulder and ear while you fiddle with the cord.

“What do ya want, kid? Somethin’ wrong?” You can hear muffled voices behind him but all you can focus on is Joel and the way his voice sounds like velvet over the phone.

“N-no, no nothing wrong I just..” your voice wavers for a moment and something inside your mind tells you to be honest with him even if it’ll blow up in your face. “...I miss you..and you left without saying a word…was it something I did-” You stop yourself from babbling on and cut the risk of looking even more dumb to him. Joel’s end was consumed by the muffled voices and laughter, a door being shut silenced the noise and it was just you and Joel.

“It’s kinda hard to talk right now, honey. I went with Michelle to her parents in Kansas for Thanksgiving. You didn’t do anything wrong. I'm just trying to get all of this sorted out, okay? You gotta remember I’ve been with her for a long time and it’s not just somethin’ I can just leave out of the blue.” Joel sighs deeply and your heart starts to get heavy inside your body, the phone cord tangled in your fingers.

“Okay, sorry for bothering you. Have fun and have a safe drive back, guess I’ll still be here waiting for you.” It wasn’t your goal to get annoyed with him but this was how you coped. You’d shut down as soon as something bad was happening and acted like it didn’t hurt. Like it didn’t make you want to curl into a ball of embarrassment when he didn’t say he missed you back. Before he could respond you hung up on him and unplugged the phone line from the handset so he couldn’t call back, not that he even would.

With the kitchen clock reading almost nine o'clock at night and your head in a mess, you figured it was more than needed for you to go to bed. Your bedroom window seemed so incomplete with the safe sight of Joel’s lamp lighting up the window it sat in. Before getting into bed you thought you’d feel better if you put on the Wizard of Oz, your favorite childhood movie. Tucking yourself right between your pile of blankets and pillows, you laid there watching the house spin and spin in the tornado but you couldn’t resist not looking over at Joel’s house every two minutes like he’d suddenly be back and throwing rocks at your window like those corny rom coms. Even imagining it seemed too crazy, you and Joel could never be like that. The ruby shoes were sparkling on your eyes as your lids got heavy and you were asleep within seconds, dreaming of Joel once again.

You wake up hours later to the DVD menu on loop and your front door being pounded on. With your heart racing you look out your window and see Joel’s truck in the driveway with the engine still running, driver's side door wide open. You wrap the throw blanket around your shoulders and practically run down the stairs to look through the peephole. A messy haired, sweaty, disheveled Joel was leaning against the door waiting on you to answer. Swinging open the front door, he yanks back the screen door that was separating you two and stepped inside, grabbing your face and walking you backwards.

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’? You unplug your phone after throwin’ a tantrum and I can’t call you back, don’t know what’s goin’ on with you?!” Joel’s voice rattled you even though it was caring, it was still coated in frustration.

“I’m sorry I went to bed, I meant to plug it back in I’m- I’m sorry..” You look at his face and it dawns on you just how freaked out he was. He drove ten hours straight just to come see if you were okay.

“What did you think I was gonna do? Hang up and just go about my time in Kansas not knowing what happened to you? Bein’ a goddamn brat making’ it hard for me to get in touch with you.” Joel’s jaw clenches as his hands tighten on your face. His eyes haven’t relaxed yet and it’s almost like he’s searching in yours to find some truth to your actions, to find some reason.

You were speechless at him. Every time he did something it surprised you even more that someone cares about you that much to go the mile for you.

“Did you really drive all night to come back and check on me?” The hint of excitement in your voice makes Joel roll his eyes and a small smirk grow on his face. His face finally softens and he pulls you against him with his hands rubbing your back.

“Of course you wanna hear me say I drove ten hours just for you, crazy brat. Don’t ever do that to me again, understood?” Joels scruff softly brushes against your ear and you finally feel safe again, even if your relationship was up in the air.

“Would you maybe wanna stay with me, just until I fall asleep?” It kind of came out of your mouth before you thought about it but there was no more hesitating.

“I can, yeah. Let me go shut off my truck and I’ll be back in a second.” He kisses your forehead softly and walks back outside to his driveway, pulling his keys out of the ignition and locking the door. His black suitcase rolls against the pavement behind him on the walk back to your house. The sun would soon be up and shining through the tree branches but you had a hard time accepting this wasn’t a dream. He leaves his suitcase by the door and sits on the couch, sighing as he gets comfortable. Joel’s eyes watch you closely as you walk back to him with a water bottle directed to him to grab.

“Just try to be quiet when you leave, okay?” You mutter as you lay your head on his lap while tugging the blanket over you as you curl into a ball like a cat. Joel chuckles and rubs his chin slightly as he adjusts and gets comfortable with the pillow behind his head. It came as no surprise to yourself that you were already preparing for the heartbreak you’d eventually have to feel when he left while you’re fast asleep no matter how much you tried to enjoy Joel being there in the moment.

“I’ll try my hardest, baby girl.” He teases, softly running his fingernails against your scalp. Joel’s breathing slows to soft snores that fill the living room, the only sound that was audible as the sun came up and soon drowned the room in warm rays.

Joel’s watch on his left hand read just a little after eleven and the house was still, your light snores getting his attention as he rubs his eyes of sleepiness. You looked so peaceful to him and he didn’t want to leave you just yet.

He grabs onto your shoulder and shakes you awake gently, brushing the hair out of your face that fell during your nap.

“I’m starving and I know you don’t have enough food here to feed the both of us. Cmon, let’s go eat…I’ll buy.” Joel was trying to bribe you and you hated that it was working. You sit up and look at him with barely opened eyes.

“Really?”

Joel stands up to stretch and his midriff is exposed by his shirt, causing your eyes to glance at the skin you hadn’t seen until now.

“My offer is good for another thirty seconds, clock is tickin’.” The playfulness in his voice makes you grin and you grab your house keys from the bowl of clutter near the front door. Your head nods towards his truck and he strolls outside, shaking his head at your outfit.

“You really gonna wear that? Don’t think the waitress would take too kindly to a shirt that says, “Cougars” with a heart…” His fingers pinch the fabric and he lets go, a small indent left on the shoulder piece.

While you both buckle in, Joel looks around for anything you could use to cover what he thought was a god awful shirt. He tosses a black hoodie at you to wear and you begrudgingly tug it on when you notice his company’s logo on the back.

“There’s nothing wrong with showing cougars love, Joel. Would you rather it say dad’s best friend?” You can see his eyebrow raise as he cocks his head slightly to glance over at you.

“Don’t push it.” He mutters and starts to head to the diner.

You both decide on a booth and look over the menu before ordering and Joel sips his coffee, taking in the strong notes of the blend to prepare clearing his throat.

“So uh- think it’s pretty obvious I can’t leave you alone no matter how hard I try. I need to get some stuff sorted out but I’m really not trying to string you along, kid.” His brown eyes flick up to meet yours and he extends out his hand to grab your arm across the worn table.

“I know I just…I hate not knowing if you’re with Michelle or not. We need to be careful around everyone, ya know- pretend that we still hate each other..” You lead on and cough slightly at the hand laying on your arm.

Joel nods understandingly, knowing exactly where you’re coming from.

“No, I’m not with-“

“Michelle, hi!” You finish his sentence as your eyes meet her piercing stare as she stands behind Joel. Her arms were crossed and nostrils flared, not understanding entirely what she walked in on.

“Michelle..”

fuck.

[aviradasa]

Hi hi again ! I just wanna say I ABSOLUTELY ADORE the chubby reader x Larry n' Sal hdcns you wrote !! It's very nice and comforting, and really made my night - I can't stop re-reading them :') . THANK YOUUU 👹🖤‼️

Anyway, I was wondering if you could do something similar to the chubby reader hdcns, but with an ADHD!reader ? Just some Larry n' Sal with an adhd having gf hdcns ! Pls & ty, ilyyy <3

(also, if you're not comfortable with writing these, or don't know abt the symptoms of adhd [with depression & anxiety symptoms, bc it's a big struggle for me personally lol], no pressure abt writing these hdcns !! Remember to eat and stay hydrated <333 !!!)

Heyyy I actually loved writing this as I've struggled for years with depression as well and me and my family have been unsure if it's Adhd or autism since I was a kid lmao So here is

Larry,sal x Adhd!Girlfriend!Reader (separate)

Sal:

Sal is really good with you

He's a really calming person to be around, so if you're really struggling that day, he's got you

If you're too hyperfocused and forget to take care of yourself, he will find a way to pull you away without bothering you. Even if it's just for a bit so you can eat or something

But if you have trouble focusing? Well, sals next to you and talking you through whatever you're trying to to.

He will even help you.

One day, you started frantically cleaning your room. Pulling stuff from the drawers pulling the stuff out from under your bed. Unloading your desk.

But then once you saw the amount of stuff, you kinda froze up. not sure where to even start.

You were honestly so overwhelmed you almost had a breakdown, but then sal walked into your guys' room, looking confused as shit asking you what's going on.

He waited patiently as you explained, and then he sat on the ground with you and started helping you organize everything,talking you through the process the entire time to keep you from getting more overwhelmed.

He's a damn angel

And once you guys got done and the room was back in order, you guys put on a movie and just passed out

If it's a day where you can't seem to sit still. He won't try to stop you.

Naw, he's saying ok come on, let's go to the apartments and run around checking on the ghost.

He doesn't try to hold you in place or stop you he tries to encourage you to do what you need to in a healthy way.

Also, if losing or misplacing things is a struggle for you, that's fine, don't worry.

Cause either he knows where it is or he's looking for it with you. And sometimes, when he sees something in an odd place, he will just grab it and put it where it should be.

And then when you need it, you don't have to go on a scavenger hunt.

On days where you can't seem to drag yourself outta bed or you're just not doing good with racing thoughts

He's with you. If you both have class that day, he will coax you out of bed,

and while you guys are driving there you guys will talk about it, and if you can't put it into words, he will just tell you stuff to get your mind off it

If you don't have class, he will lay with you, and you guys will just put on a show and chat, which makes you feel a bit better

He's like your other half at this point, and it's nice to have some calm when things get crazy

Overall, you both have a pretty good system, and if he's having issues, you help him out too, so it's a pretty win-win you

guys are great together

Larry:

Well, now Larry, I think, has a bit of it to but a little different. He's more on the hyper focus end.

He will get to painting or playing a game, and he's not moving from that spot until it's done, and if you are also hyper focused at the same time it can start off good but then can get a bit unhealthy

It's whoever comes out of it first that will snap the other out of it

But if you're having trouble focusing, he will do his best to help, but let's be honest, you both will probably end up distracted

One day, you were trying to work on a project for one of your classes and you were stuck because you had so much to do and didn't know where to start.

So you tried to put on some music. We'll that didn't work too well because now you're sitting there watching MTV music videos.

By the time Larry got back, you were spaced out at the screen with your project forgotten sitting next to you.

He asked you what it was, and when you told him, he asked if it was done and you ended up explaining that you got stuck.

Well, he sits down with you and takes a look at it and also kinda blanks. Then you guys started talking, and the conversation ventured off, and yall ended up rushing it the night before.

At least he tried lmao.

Now, if it's a hyper day for you guys and you're running around trying to do a bunch of stuff, he will probably roll a joint and give it to you like.

Smoke this.

After you do, it can have one of two reactions

1 you actually slow down and are able to chill for a bit, or 2 it just makes you wanna go on an adventure.

If it's the second you guys end up in a gas station getting snacks and then heading over to sals to bother him and his girl it's cool they don't mind lol.

Now, when it comes to misplaced objects it really fucks with larry. Like I said in my general Larry HCs, he's messy but in an organized way.

So if he's digging around trying to find a certain paintbrush and he ends up finding it in the living room instead of in his art area he it really fucks with him.

But he's not mad he's just more confused and like what the fuck I didn't put that there.

And if he asks you and you don't remember, then you guys jokingly blame the ghosts. You both know it probably wasn't them but it's a Lil inside joke.

Now, for days, you can't get up, he stays with you. He's either in the same boat or he just feels bad and understands. Sometimes, he will lay with you, and you both might smoke and talk to each other. Or he will put on a show or music and paint while you do you.

It's just nice to know he's there and that he cares.

Overall, you guys got a lot going on, but you guys manage it as well as you can and what's important is that you do it together 🖤

[houseofoddballs]

OK, wow, a lot of you really wanted to go for the "good" ending, right? Well, I'm sorry, but there was no good ending. Enjoy my little oddballs! Final word count is about 2,400 words!

Tw: aggression, angst, emotional hurt, vulgarity, physical abuse? Tell me If there are more to add!

This wasn't working. You stood inside your bathroom, propped against the sink as you stared into your own eyes. They just looked so sad now, so hollow. You could remember Simon cupping your cheek as he stared into your eyes under starlight and murmured against your lips how much he loved seeing them light up around him.

What you wouldn't give to have that again. Staring up at the stars with Simon, his fingers brushing through your hair. You missed the soft mumbled apologies whenever he would catch a snag, and the way he focused on you more than any silly constellation.

"Why stars?" You had asked him, on probably the third date where he took you stargazing with either a picnic or just some takeout. I mean, this was Simon after all. Deep, brooding, knew all of the vital organs and arteries on the human body, etc. He didn’t exactly seem like the soft stargazing type, especially with as clumsy as he was at romance.

You were met with a gruff grunt and a shrug at the time. But later, once you two had eaten and were just laying back together, hand in hand, he answered your question. "'S because no matter where I'm deployed, I know I'm always lookin' up at the same sky as you."

You were snapped back to reality by a sharp rap at your door and the voice of a Scottsman who you had began to secretly loathe. "Aye, lass, ya' mind bringin' up the wheely bin? Ghost said he would take the trash out if ya do." A soft sigh was leaving your lips before you could even process his words, turning away from the reflection of your despondent hollow eyes.

Snow crunched under your feet as you trekked out of the garrage to fetch the trash bin from its place next to the mailbox. Cold seeped through the thin layers of your clothing, a frigid therapy to clear your mind and remind you that you were alive. It was uncomfortable, but in the most comfortable and enveloping sort of way. Like a hug that lasts a bit too long from someone who you know just wants to help.

Hugs. You missed those.

Your eyes flicked up to the night sky, moving between the stars like a pachinko ball bouncing off of celestial pegs. Maybe this was it. Maybe it was time to put yourself first for a change. The very thought made your stomach twist and churn with guilt, but you were far beyond guilt at this point. It wasn't healthy for you to spend afternoons sitting on your floor with you back pressed against the door so you could just listen to Soap and Simon talk without intruding on their time. It wasn't healthy for you to make yourself dissappear just to please an overgrown child. It wasn't healthy for you to beat yourself up over standing up for yourself and what you needed.

So, this was it. You had to be done. Simon had been given more than enough chances to put you first, and he hadn't taken any of them. Simon had simply stayed off to the side complacently as Johnny pushed you further and further away. So beit then.

Soap won.

You didn't bother packing most of your stuff knowing that it would only make it harder to leave, and if you let yourself think about it too much then you were going to stay trapped, haunting their broken relationship. No.

Your favorite clothes, toiletries, and other things went into your suitcase as you finally decided to free yourself. With every item you packed, it felt like another link was cut from the chain that was wrapped around your neck, trapping you here. And yet, there is terror that comes with freedom. You canceled your phone plan that night and waited until Ghost and Johnny went to bed to make your move.

Guttural grunts and lewd moans were your signal to move, rolling your eyes as you left a single sheet of paper folded neatly on your bed. Neither of them hardly ever came to check on you, so you reckoned that you had at least a week before even Simon noticed your absence. Unless, of course, Johnny noticed your car missing. But, even if he did, it didn't matter. This was it.

"Goodby, Simon. I loved you."

And then you were gone. Tossing your suitcase in the back and driving off into the night. The stars were, and always would be, a painful reminder of Simon. But they say that time heals all wounds. You would just have to test that.

no. No. NO. NO!

Simon's hands trembled as they clutched the small piece of paper from you pillows, eyes tracing over and reading each line until he couldn’t make out the words through the tears welling in his eyes.

Gone. You were gone.

His angel, his sweet, his world, his everything. As much as he tried to fool himself into asking why, he knew the answer.

Simon loved you desperately. After everything that had happened to him, his father, losing his family, being buried alive, being hung by his ribs, all of it; after all of it was when he had met you, and Ghost felt truly alive in a manner he had never felt before.

There were quite a few differences between feeling alive in the heat of battle and feeling alive with someone you love, and yet, both of them made Ghost acutely aware of his pounding heart, both of them made Ghost's stomach twist up in knots, both of them brought blood to Ghost's face.

And Ghost wouldn't have had it any other way. Ghost had spent so long being Ghost, that he was starting to forget who Simon was. But you changed that. A simple holiday with Price, that was all it took for him to meet and fall so ridiculously in love with you that he walked around base with a dopy grin under his Skull balaclava at the thought of you texting him.

As Simon numbly sat on the edge of your bed, clutching so tight to the paper that he was afraid it might shred, your entire relationship flashed before his eyes.

Your first date, your first hug, your first kiss, your first time, When he told you his real name, the first time he took off his mask in front of you, the first time he broke down to you. How could he have been such an idiot?

Simon tired to think back on His and Johnny's relationship in a similar way, but it just wasn't the same. They had been great friends in the task force already, so when they were both captured together, of course that was when things had to change.

Sure, he had fallen for Johnny's kind words and beautiful eyes when they were tied together and bleeding on the cold concrete. Ghost should have known better!! But when the stubborn Scottsman confessed so sweetly so that he wouldn't die with any regrets, well, it was hard not to feel touched.

But they just weren't compatible.

Johnny was loud, immature, selfish, didn't think very far ahead, and he was just so clingy. And, yet the thought of leaving him made Simon's heart ache whenever he thought about it. Johnny didn't treat him like he was in love, but Ghost was sure that Soap loved him in his own way.

But it wasn't worth this. He tried calling you, searching for you, emailing you for the queen's sake! But he found nothing. You had been so isolated that you didn't really have any friends that Simon knew of. He was just lost.

He should have taken the ache of being honest with John over this overwhelmingly hollow torment in his chest. When you left, you took hardly anything, but you took everything from Simon.

The world became colorless, music lost it's rhythm, food lost it's taste, life lost its luster. And Johnny? Well, he became a lot harder to tolerate.

"Did ya hear their makin' a new-" "Not now Johnny." It was like he didn't care. Didn't care that you were gone, didn't care how badly Simon was hurting. "Is this about the lass again? Look, I'm sorry Si, but it's not your fault she didn't care enought-"

"Shut up." Soap looked at Ghost in shock for a moment, a brow quirking up. "What?" "You heard me." Now Johnny's brows were furrowing, his lips setting into that stairght line that meant he was about to win.

Something about Soap? He was impossible to argue with. He would argue in circles to the point where it didn't matter which side he was on as long as he won, which was incredibly frustrating to say the least and made any arguments completely pointless because he would win in the end out of sheer exasperation. It was just easier that way. But not this time.

"Shut. Up." "Look, ya' ken nae go blamin' me for the way she left! She-" Simon was up in an instant, a hand around Soaps throat, effectively shutting him up and pinning him to the wall. Johnny reached up and clawed at his wrist as Simon squeezed just a bit too tight, he could feel Johnny's windpipe being crushed into itself. But he didn't care. Not right now.

"You absolute fuckin' nubty. You just don't get it, do you? Well, seargant, let me spell it out for you, you dense fuck." Simon's eyes were burning, but this wasn't Simon anymore. He could almost feel his balaclava over his face as he glowered down at Soap, eyes filled with disdain and mallace. This was Ghost, someone who hadn't been out to play in years, despite the name sticking around.

Soap winced as Ghost tightened his grip even further, a snarl meeting his lips as he spoke. "She was MINE. And I was hers. We'll use a pie for the sake of your small. Fucking. Brain." Each venomous word was punctuated with a twitch of Ghost's hand, a lingering desire to just squeeze all of the life out of Soap right here and now.

He could see Soaps eyes rolling back as dark spots were inevitably clouding them. That was no good. He had to be awake for what Simon had to say. Ghost loosened his grip just enough to allow Soap the bare minimum of blood and oxygen before delivering a harsh slap across his face with his free hand.

"Ah ah ah sausage, stay with me. So, the pie. She goes and gets a third of the pie because I'm in the military and she doesn't get to see my beautiful mug very often. Then, she hears that I'm coming home for good. She gets all of that delicious pie. Ya' followin' me Johnny?" A strangled nodd. Good. Ghost didn't care about the strangled noises leaving soap or the way that tears pricked his eyes.

"Good boy Johnny. So, she thinks she's getting all of this pie that I am. And then, I come back toting your arse along like some fucking new pet. Well, now she thinks she only gets half of the pie. But she still agrees because she was a fucking angel." Ghost's voice was cold again, filled with the same gruffness that the military had imparted into him.

Ghost hadn't been out in ages. It felt good. Ghost could feel Soaps pulse under his fingers, feel his lifeblood. It was intoxicating. He loved that look of pure terror, missed people looking at him like the monster he was.

"Except, instead of half of the pie, she's still only getting a third, because SOMEONE is a greedy fucking pig. Wonder who that is, Johnny?" Ghost cocked his head to the side as he dug his nails into the flesh of Johnny's neck, reveling in the way that he winced.

"And then what happens? This little piggy goes and takes even more of the fuckin pie. You just keep taking and taking and TAKING until all that was left was fucking crumbs. Do you get it now? You fucking muppet."

Soap nodded furiously as he gripped Ghost's wrist, trying desperately to pull him off. But it wasn't Ghost's fault Johnny hadn't been working out as much. Five years ago he would have at least been able to put up a fight. This was just pathetic to Ghost.

"And so, she lapped at your fucking crumbs like the good girl she was, because she fucking loved me. Do you love me Johnny?" Ghost cut off Soaps nodding with a glare. "I know your cock does, but that's not what I'm asking. Do YOU love me? Because I don't think you do. I think you love having someone complacent to you. You love thinking you have complete control and having everything bend to your fucking whim."

Ghost pulled away finally, letting Soap crumple to the ground coughing and clutching his neck. Ghost just shook his head and made his way to the door, grabbing the keys to his jeep off the rack and his familiar skull balaclava as he did so.

"Pick yourself up. Shits about to change, and I'm done letting you walk all over me. You better hope I find my girl again, or you better be gone when I come back. Your choice Johnny."

It wasn't good, wasn't healthy by any means, but everyone had a breaking point.

And you? What did you do? You lived. Love was definitely off of the table, but you managed to find a place to stay with a nice landlord who helped you find a job in your new small town. A nice older gentleman with sandy chops and a fatherly disposition. He became your best friend. Romance was dead to you at this point, but he was just so gentlemanly and sweet.

Little did you know that Price had forbid Simon and Johnny from your life after what you told him. He was protecting you in more ways than you knew from both the devil you knew and the devil you thought you knew. Simon was ravenous, like a rabbid dog desperately trying to get to you. But Price wasn't going to let him hurt you anymore.

And he didn't.