#bc he WOULD punch him straight in the face the moment he sees him

[danikamariewrites]

Punches & Apologies

Batboys x reader

Notes: this was a commission fic that I forgot to post lol. Buckle up bc she’s a long one with lots of Az angst

Warnings: angst, training accident

Heavy pants and the rush of your blood fill your ears. You are exhausted. Your body begging you to stop. The muscles in your arms and legs screaming and pulsing, never being pushed to this extent before.

Azriel is pushing you as punishment for your latest mission to the Continent. You made a mistake, a miscalculation. One that got an emissary killed and put you within death’s grasp.

But that does not give Azriel an excuse to push you like he has never made a mistake before.

Cauldron, your mates must be feeling your pain. At least Cassian is. You’ve been sending everything to him down the bond in the hopes he stops Azriel.

Slipping to take a knee on purpose, Azriel brings the practice sword to rest against your throat. His nostrils flared as his breathing turned heavy, angry that you would blatantly yield instead of fighting until the end like you were taught.

You just stare at each other for a moment that seems to go on for an eternity. Cassian clears his throat but you two just keep staring each other down. “I think that’s enough for today.” His voice is strained, telling you Cassian was certainly feeling the echoes of your pain.

“No,” Azriel said tensely. “We keep going.” He draws back the practice sword, stepping back to pace in front of your still kneeling form. You screw your eyes shut, putting all of your effort on slowing your heart rate.

“Azriel, I don't think it’s wise to continue. Take a break and cool off.” Cassian gives Azriel a glare reserved for his soldiers. “No.” Azriel replied shortly. His piercing gaze never leaving you. “Get up.” He commands.

“Az, please,” You beg. “Up now, or I’m suspending you from missions indefinitely.” Your eyes widen at his threat. Cassian opens his mouth to interject but you hold your hand out to him, rising from your spot on the mat.

If Azriel wanted your all, fine. You’re done pulling punches. Throwing your practice sword aside you ball your fists. A wave of anger rushing through you, motivating you to beat the ever-loving-shit out of your mate. “Let's go then.” You bite out. “No weapons? Fine.” Azriel says smugly.

The two of you square up, circling each other slowly as you assess the other’s weak spots. You were determined to land the first punch. Not wasting any more time you launch yourself at Azriel with your fist pulled back. Letting your fist fly straight for his nose, Azriel dodges you, dipping to your right.

You stumble, quickly regaining your balance, whipping around to face him. A nasty scowl contorting your features. Azriel throws a series of punches that you duck under. Your arms raised in front of your face for protection.

Between punches you pop up, landing two quick jabs to his ribs. There wasn’t much behind the punches, but enough that you could put some distance between you. Over Azriel’s shoulder you could see Cassian standing rigid, his hands behind his back. A torn look pulling at his rugged face.

Part of Cassian roars to put a stop to this before someone gets hurt. The other part of him whispers that this is between you and Azriel. That you two need to work this out so the anger doesn’t follow you around.

When Cassian focuses again the two of you are getting more and more violent. Punches getting faster and faster.

You can tell Azriel is getting even more frustrated with you. By continuously dodging him you aren’t truly facing off against him. His pace picks up so fast you can feel the wind from his punches. You go to step left, thinking Azriel was going to throw his right hand. It was too late for you to notice the change. Azriel throws a left hook, his fist connecting with your jaw. A loud crack stunning the three of you.

You let gravity pull you down to the mat. Laying flat on your back, tense and in shock waiting for the adrenaline rush to wear off so you would feel the pain. There was a slight ringing in your ears along with Azriel and Cassian’s screaming match that you tuned out.

Looking at the sky you focused on the clouds passing by. Their different shapes and how soft they seemed. Anything to get your mind off the pain that would be taking over any second.

“Rhys,” you whispered in your mind, “Rhys…the training ring…” Even in your mind your voice was weak. When you focused you saw soft violet eyes staring down at you. “Hi darling.” Rhys says softly. “Rhys?” Your voice cracks as pain has your mouth snapping shut. Tears sting your eyes as you try to breathe through your nose to stay calm.

“Hey, hey it’s ok.” Rhys coos. He softly runs the tips of his fingers against the blooming bruise on your face. You whimper at his touch. Rhys winces at your pain, feeling your distress through the bond. You can still hear Cassian and Azriel arguing. “QUIET!” Rhys’s voice booms through the training room. The pair immediately fall silent. The severity of what has happened settled over them.

Rhys carefully scoops you into his arms. As he heads for the entrance to the house he yells at Cassian and Azriel, “Do not disturb me or her for the rest of the day. I will deal with both of you later.” Rhys’s tone left no room for argument. The Illyrians bowed their heads murmuring “Yes High Lord” in unison.

Trying to focus on anything but the pain you look at the hallway Rhys is walking. The floor is lined with an ornate carpet. The walls are covered in old paintings you’re sure his father collected, along with vintage sconces giving off a soft glow of fae light.

That’s when you realize he’s taking you to his personal wing. Rooms Rhys has rarely used in the last few years since the bond snapped.

You make a small noise to get his attention. Unable to move your mouth in fear of something in your jaw popping. You push yourself further into his chest. Focusing on the feel of Rhys under you.

Gently laying you on the large four poster bed Rhys hesitantly lets you go. “I will be right back.” He says, disappearing in a wisp of black swirls.

You knew he would be back soon. That Rhys wouldn’t leave you to suffer alone. To ease your anxiety you use the technique Cass taught you. Five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one you can taste.

There wasn’t much you could do for a few of the numbers, but what you could do caught your attention immediately. It’s been so long since you’ve visited Rhysand’s personal wing of the House of Wind. Longer since you’ve spent the night here.

Looking around the room you noticed the paintings – his favorites from his father’s collection – the curtains half drawn for the balcony doors, a blanket Rhys would always wrap you in hanging off the end of the bed. The canopy on the bed has changed from thick, velvet black fabric to a gauzy, airy white fabric you would see in the Summer Court. Lastly, you notice how brightly lit the room is.

You feel the softness of the comforter under your fingers. You had thought it would feel scratchy or dusty from not being used. But that wouldn’t be like Rhys to let anything in this massive house seem unused.

You can feel your training leathers clinging to your skin from sweat. Feel the heaviness of your boots pulling at your ankles.

Before you can move to unlace them Rhys reappears with Madja by his side. The old healer was fuming, her eyes going wide as she spotted the bruise on the side of your face. Rhys must have told her about training.

“I swear to the Cauldron,” Madja mutters. Striding over to you she plops her bag down on the bed, her gentle hands softly cup your jaw. Rhys stands behind her. Anxiously biting at his nails as he watches the glow from her hands.

Madja straightens, her lips pulled into a frown as she thinks. “It’s not broken or fractured, thank the Mother. But the bruising inside and out will cause you pain for a few days.” You nod at her assessment. Placing her hands on you again you hold back a new wave of tears as Madja healed what she could.

You didn’t pay attention to her when going over what tonics to take and when. Rhys was clinging to her every word for the both of you. You were too busy thinking about how Azriel pushed you so hard that you ended up hurt.

When Rhys came back from escorting Madja to the city he helped you out of your leathers and into a hot bath.

An hour later you were back in bed with Rhys holding you to his chest, an ice pack resting against your jaw to help with the swelling. Tears silently stream down your cheeks as Rhys smoothes down your hair to help calm you.

“Do you want to stay here or in your own room?” He asked, finally breaking the silence. Sniffling your answer, “Here.”

“Ok,” Rhys presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’ll stay with me, right?” You hold his shirt in a death grip. Praying Rhys won’t leave you alone. “Of course, darling.” You let out a shaky exhale in relief. You weren’t ready to face Cassian and Azriel. Staying in Rhys’s wing ensured that. They wouldn’t dare enter his personal wing for fear of being punished by their High Lord.

For a week you stayed curled up in Rhys’s old bed. He opted for working in his smaller study next to the bedroom while you recovered. Though the bruising went down and the pain went away you couldn’t bring yourself to do any of your daily activities. Your failed mission and fight with Azriel depressing you too much, along with the absence of two of your mates. That was your choice though.

You weren’t ready to face them. Still angry at both of them. Angry at Cassian for not stepping in. Angry at Azriel for thinking he could push until he gets his way.

Once you were able to actually chew your food, you thought maybe it was time to leave bed. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a few more days?” Rhys asked. He wrapped you tightly in his arms, resting his cheek on the top of your head.

“Yes, Rhys. I’ll go back to High Lady duties, but I’m not training for now. I don’t particularly want to be around Cass and Az.” You huff. Just thinking about them makes you angry. Rhys leans away from you, holding you by your shoulders. “I know darling. They do feel guilty and are beside themselves.” Rhys frowns.

You knew they were. You could feel them through the bond, Azriel the least. You knew he must have built a wall of steel around his heart. Cauldron, he must be a ghost of himself right now.

After a few days of being back in the usual parts of the house you seek out Cassian. Finding him in the dining room you sit across from him. Cass pauses eating, shocked to see you. You send him a reassuring smile along with a pulse of love down the bond.

“It’s good to see you sweetheart.” He breaks out into a wide grin, reaching across the table to hold your hands. “Hi Cass,” is all you can manage. Overwhelmed by the happiness you’re feeling through the bond to see him again. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Better,” you answer honestly. “The pain is gone but the bruising is still there a little.” You turn your head to give Cassian a better view of the yellowing skin. His fists clench and his face contorts in anger.

“I should’ve stopped him myself. Az was in his own head and I knew it,” Cassian says more to himself tha you. It seems like this is the first time he is truly admitting his thoughts outloud. “Cass,” you say gently, “It isn’t your fault. This is between me and Azriel.”

“I’m sorry.” He chokes out, silver lining his eyes. You quickly round the table, placing yourself in his lap. You wipe away a stray tear, kissing his nose. “Cass, I’ve forgiven you.” Cassian pulls you into his chest, hugging you and sending all his love down the bond. It was almost too much. You felt like your chest was going to explode.

As the days pass and your temper cools, you find yourself craving to have all three of your mates by your side again. Rhys and Cass were keeping you company. You’re back to your old routine, but still sitting out of morning training. You felt like a piece of you was missing.

You had only seen Azriel in passing once. And the male couldn’t even look at you. Your heart clenched at the lack of recognition. You tried to reach out to his end of the bond but you were quickly met with an impenetrable wall of shadows.

Azriel had taken to spending his days in his office, throwing himself fully into his work, and sleeping in his own room.

Packing for your trip to the Winter Court you called Rhys and Cassian into your bedroom. You give them a sweet smile as you fold your clothes, putting them in your bag. “I have a request for while I’m gone.”

“What’s that, darling?” Rhys’s smooth voice sends a shiver down your spine. He presses his chest to your back, hooking a finger under your chin to tilt your head back to look at him. You give him a knowing smirk and swat his hand away. “I’m trying to be serious Rhys.” The High Lord holds his hands up in surrender. “What do you need from us?” Cassian asks earnestly.

You stand straighter, eyes hardening. “I want you two to bring Azriel out of this dark spot. He’s hurting and I don’t think he’ll talk to me until he knows you two have forgiven him.”

They suck in a breath, giving each other a look that tells you neither are sure Az will talk. A long moment of silence passes before they look back at you.

“We will.” Rhys hesitantly agrees. “Do you forgive him though?” Cassian asks with a sad expression. You nod slowly. “I do. And I need you two to forgive him.” They agree to your request, promising to make things better.

Azriel watched from his balcony as you and Mor winnow away. It had pained him to stay away from you. He couldn’t bring himself to face you.

His stomach has been in constant knots. Azriel hasn’t eaten a proper meal in a week thanks to the incident with you. If he didn’t talk to you soon the guilt was going to kill him.

Azriel hadn’t slept properly either. The purple bags under his eyes were painful proof. Every time Azriel closes his eyes he sees the shock set in from the punch. He feels your jaw bone cracking under his fist. He sees you laying on your back, stunned from what your mate had done.

Azriel is your mate. One of three males that is supposed to protect you. Not cause you harm.

A knock at the door pulls him from his morbid thoughts. Opening the door Rhys stands there giving him a tentative smile. Azriel bows his head slightly before looking back at him.

Rhys clears his throat. “I know the last week has been tough, so I thought we could have a night, just the three of us.”

Azriel tenses at the thought of being around Cassian. His murderous eyes flash in his mind along with calloused hands grabbing him, wanting to throttle him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Rhys.”

Rhys holds in a sigh, annoyed that Azriel doesn’t see the peace offering he’s trying to make. “Az, look at me,” he hooks a finger under the taller Illyrians chin, “You can’t avoid us, or y/n for that matter, forever. Please, come have dinner with us. We miss you.”

Azriel gives in, nodding in defeat. Rhys grabs the Shadowsinger’s hand, pulling him to the dinning room. Az tenses when he sees Cassian in his usual seat. Taking his place across from the General, Azriel keeps his gaze glued to him. His shadows ready to protect Azriel at any sign of a threat.

Cassian gives him a reassuring smile, “It’s good to see you, Az.” All Azriel can do is nod. A lump growing in his throat. He reigns in his emotion, keeping them behind the wall he’s built up.

Rhys flicks his wrist, making platters of food appear. “Eat up. I made sure the cooks made everyones favorite.”

The trio falls into an awkward silence. Only the clatter of cutlery against porcelain filling the cavernous room. Cassian breaks the silence, trying to naturally clear his throat. “So…” he drawls, “How was everyone’s day?”

He and Rhys fall into easy conversation with Azriel following along to avoid being consumed by his emotions. When Azriel eventually gets roped into the conversation he’s his typical quiet self.

Moving to the sitting room after the meal Azriel opens up more. Becoming his usual self around Rhys and Cass. Once the whiskey comes out the trio are back to their usual banter. Like there hasn’t been a huge rift keeping them isolated from one another.

Rhys sets his crystal glass down on the side tabel. Leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, he levels Azriel with an interogative look. “Not to ruin the evening, but we do need to talk.” Azriel freezes, that lump returning to his throat making it harder to breathe.

He knew this was coming. They needed to discuss it at some point. Az nods, urging Rhys to continue. “We know what happened, but we want to know what was going on with you.” Rhys says gently, not wanting to drill Azriel.

Azriel swallows hard, screwing his eyes shut to keep tears at bay. All calming techniques from years of training leaving his mind, losing all control on his emotions. Something Azriel isn’t known for. Grappling for words he finally finds his voice.

“What happened on the Continent stuck with me. It wasn’t a typical slip up, you didn’t see her. I thought we were going to lose her. And I wouldn’t have been able to come home and face the two of you if that happened. I thought when we got home things would be better and everything would fine.”

Tears escaped his tightly closed eyes.

A heavy, comforting hand rests on the middle of Azriel’s back. Opening his eyes he finds Cassian giving him a pained, sympathetic look. Something in Cassian’s soft hazel eyes broke Azriel. His tears started falling faster as he attempted to blink them away. Rhys rested a hand on his knee, telling him to let it out.

“Stepping back into training with her I knew I had to teach her how to avoid an accident like that again. I needed to know she could keep up if push came to shove. So I pushed and Gods do I regret it. I got so mad that she wasn’t taking it seriously and Cass you should’ve stopped me.” Azriel anguished. “I got mad and I punched, hard. I hear it all the time. I see her laying there when I close my eyes. I can’t…just,” Azriel breaks down, dropping his face into his scarred hands. Heartbreaking sobs rip from his lips as he leans into Cassians side.

The males cry with him. Feeling Azriel’s guilt and turmoil through the bond.

When Az calms down he looks to the males for guidance. Rhys moves to the couch from his usual armchair, pressing a long kiss to Azriel’s forehead. “Talk to her. Y/n desperately wants to see you too. Being away from you has pained her as much as it has you.” Rhys whispers.

Two days later, with a chill you can’t seem to shake, you return home from the Winter Court. You bid Mor goodnight in foyer and head to your bedroom. Pushing the door open you find Azriel sitting on the edge of your bed, his head down as he nervously pulls at his finger nails.

“Azzie,” you say, hopeful that he truly is here and not an image your very tired mind made up. Leaving your bag on the bench at the end of your bed, you rush over to your mate, holding his face in your still cold hands. “I’ve missed you,” you whisper.

Az leans into your touch, covering your hands with his own. You’ve missed his touch. Those rough, loving hands holding you tight to his chest. “I’m sorry,” his voice breaks, silver lining his eyes. The wall keeping his emotions from you fianlly breaks. Letting you feel everything he’s kept to himself.

“I’m so sorry. I should have stopped when you and Cass told me to. I shouldn’t have let my anger and fear get the best of me. I am so sorry, my love. So sorry.”Azriel’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you to stand between his thighs. You let him hold you, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The two of you cried and clung to each other for what felt like an eternity.

Azriel pulls away, holding you by your waist. You wipe away his lingering tears. “I forgive you, Azriel. Promise me that if something like this happens again you won’t let it build. We’ll talk first before we let our feelings get the better of us. Because I don’t know what will happen is there’s another incident like this.”

“I will, I swear it. And i’m going to make this up to you for the rest of our lives.” Azriel’s tone is a strict promise to you. “As long as you don’t push me in training anymore we’re ok.” You joke with him. Azriel’s face stays serious, not a smirk in sight. “Never again.”

He stands from the bed pulling you into sweet embrace, tucking your head under his chin. “If you’re up for it I want to take you to dinner tomorrow night. Just me and you,” he asks, hopeful. You squeeze Azriel tighter, “I’d love that Azzie.”

Unwrapping yourself from Azriel you look up at him with big, tear filled eyes. Batting your lashes at him. Azriel looked at you with hazel eyes full of nothing but love. He cups your jaw, running his fingers over the spot where the bruise from his punch once was. “How are you feeling? I dove right into my apology I didn’t even ask.”

“I’m good. The pain is gone, so is the bruise on the inside.” Azriel’s eyes widened. He didn’t get a full update from Rhys when Madja had healed you. “But it’s ok,” you assure him quickly. Azriel pulls you against his chest again, kissing the top of your head. You giggle lightly at his action.

You pull away again, going to your closet to change for bed. It’s been a long day and you could leave unpacking until tomorrow. Right now you wanted to sleep with Azriel by your side. It had been two long weeks without him.

Coming back to your room you find Az sitting back on your bed awkwardly. You climb onto the mattress, crawling up behind him. You rest your chin on his shoulder, “Will you stay in here tonight? I don’t want to be without you.”

Without a word Azriel shoots up, stripping his leathers from his body. He pulls the covers back waiting for you to settle in next to him.

You quickly snuggle into his side, resting your head on his bare chest. Azriel pulls the covers up around your shoulders tight to keep you warm. You gently pull his face down to meet your lips in a sweet kiss. “Goodnight Azzy. I love you, so much baby.”

Azriel cradles your head, letting out a small hum. “I love you too, sweetheart. More than you know.”

[kbwrites]

Collision Course

synopsis: Ryomen Sukuna, heavyweight champion and your ex-boyfriend gets a wake up call when he is injured for the first time during a fight.

⚝content: boxer!Sukuna x f!reader, reader is a physiotherapist, slight angst, nsfw, choking, Toji beating Sukuna's ass bc I said so

⚝wc: 2.4k

⚝a/n: working on the requests I've gotten in the past month. This one was fun!

Ryomen Sukuna, the heavyweight champion of the world, stood in the center of the ring, his piercing gaze locked onto his opponent his focus was razor-sharp, body coiled like a spring. The crowd’s roar surged around him, but his eyes were fixed on one man—Toji Fushiguro, his gaze dark and unreadable. This wasn’t just a match—it was a reckoning, a confrontation years in the making.

The bell rang, and the arena erupted. Ryomen moved like a predator, his punches fast and lethal. But Toji met every strike with equal force, counters precise, his movements a dance of calculated power. Each round was a brutal display of skill, neither willing to back down, the anticipation in the crowd building with every punch.

Then, in the eighth round, it happened. Sukuna, sensing victory within reach, unleashed a devastating hook aimed at Toji’s jaw. His muscles coiled with the familiar rush of adrenaline, a primal drive to end the fight. But Toji, with an unsettling calm, sidestepped the attack with almost supernatural precision. In that split second of realization, Sukuna's heart pounded, the moment feeling like slow motion. With a swift sidestep, he avoided the blow and delivered a crushing punch directly to Sukuna’s shoulder. The sound of the impact was sickening—a sharp crack that seemed to echo through the arena. Pain flared instantly, his arm falling limp as he staggered back, the once unbreakable champion now vulnerable.

The crowd’s roar turned into a collective gasp. He gritted his teeth, the realization dawning that he was injured—seriously so.

The world spun, a dizzying blur of lights and colors. The roar of the crowd was a distant murmur. His mind struggled to make sense of the situation, the sharp sting of defeat sinking in as he replayed the moment Toji’s punch landed.  That scar-faced grin, a haunting image in the corner of his mind, lingered as he was wheeled through the narrow corridor.

This wasn’t happening. It had to be some nightmare. But it wasn’t… Ryomen, the undefeated champion–had been defeated.

The doors to the medical suite swing open, and your eyes see something they'd never dreamed of. Ryomen Sukuna on a stretcher, holding his shoulder as his face contorted in pain. You walked over to him, helping the medic team move him to a table.

As Sukuna settled onto the table, his gaze met yours you glanced at him with a wry smile and said, “I thought you said you don’t lose.”

He grins through the pain, his normal confidence shining through. 

“You know I can’t stay away from you for too long.”

𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ

It was never going to work. That’s what you told yourself. He was in a different world from you completely, one full of glitz and glory, a realm of raw power and relentless ambition. You had tried to convince yourself that the divide was too vast, that his world and yours were irreconcilable. But every night, as you laid next to him, it all seemed to blur, if only for a moment.

The clock ticked past midnight, you sat on the counter of your apartment’s kitchen. Eating the cup noodles as you swung your feet lazily. He had sworn he would be home early, that tonight would be different, that he’d finally make time for you amidst his whirlwind schedule.

And yet here you were. Waiting for him. Again.

The sudden clatter of keys and the turn of the doorknob sliced through the silence of your apartment. You rolled your eyes, finishing the last of your ramen with a resigned sigh.

The door swung open, and Sukuna walked in, his presence as commanding as ever. Without missing a beat, he headed straight for the kitchen where you sat. His gaze softened slightly as he approached, a smirk playing on his lips. Without hesitation, he reached for you, his lips descending toward yours in a kiss that was supposed to bridge the gap his absence had created. But as his lips neared, you caught the sharp tang of alcohol on his breath.

You pulled back just slightly, a flicker of irritation crossing your face. “You’re late,” you said, your tone a mixture of frustration and fatigue.

Ryomen, still maintaining his confident demeanor, shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Had a long night,” he said bluntly, his voice laced with a casual charm that only made your blood boil.

Without a word, you slipped off the counter and turned away, heading towards the living room. The anger you had tried to suppress now surged to the surface, and you could feel your pulse quickening with every step.

The pink-haired boxer followed, his irritation rising as he caught up to you. “What’s the problem now?” he demanded, his voice sharp.

You keep walking, refusing to face him “There’s no problem.”

He stepped in front of you, blocking your path. “Don’t play games with me.” He warns.

You met his gaze, the space between you crackling with tension. “I’m not playing games.” you shot back, your voice tight.

Sukuna’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with anger. “What do you want from me, woman? You think I can just drop everything and cater to your every whim?”

His crimson eyes bore into yours, you felt the beat of your heart in your chest. He closed the gap, your chest pressing against his broad one.

“I’m tired.” You grit your teeth, glaring up at your boyfriend.

“If you’re so tired of this, then why the hell are you still here waiting for me?”

His proximity and the rawness of his gaze made your heart pound even harder. The tension between you was palpable, the argument morphing. Without thinking, you closed the gap between you, your lips crashing into his with a fervor born of frustration and longing.

Sukuna responded with equal passion, his grip on you tightening as he deepened the kiss. The fight in his touch gave way to an urgent need, the argument transforming into a fierce, all-consuming embrace. The anger, the pain, and the desire all melded together, creating a storm of emotion that swept over both of you.

You walk backward to your bed, the back of your knees hitting the bed frame. Ryomen’s larger frame pushed you onto the bed, trapping you between his arms. He was rough in the ring—even rougher in bed.

His lips left your now bruised ones, moving immediately to your neck. His teeth leaving small bites along your pulse point—tongue darting out to soothe the pain. Your soft moans and whimpers echo in his ears. He rolls his hips into yours, his erection grinding against the growing wet spot in your panties.

“F-fuck… Ryo” You breathe as he unclasped your bra. His mouth latches to your nipple, expert tongue swirling around the swollen bud. His eyes flutter shut as he loses himself in your chest.

Rough hands roam your body, touch setting your skin ablaze.

Ryomen tugs your panties to the side, thick finger gathering your slick before plunging into your sopping wet cunt. He pumps in and out, mouth switching to your other nipple as his digits explore your gummy walls.

“S-shitshitshit Ryomennn~” You whine as your back arches into him. He picks up the pace, fingers scissoring inside of you as your hole clenched around him. He releases your nipple, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

“Heh… thought you were tired.” His voice rumbles against your skin. If you weren’t so close to cumming you would’ve cussed his ass out but–

With an expert curl of his finger your vision goes hazy as you cum on his fingers. Not even giving you a minute to recover, he replaces his thick digits with the fat head of his cock.

He slides his throbbing length up and down your folds, tip kissing your clit before pushing into your tight entrance.

“Oh fuucckkk.” You whine as the stretch causes tears to prick your eyes. Ryomen hooks your legs over his broad shoulders. He reaches between your bodies to rub your clit, slow deliberate circles as his thick member is swallowed by your walls. He lets out a low groan as he bottoms out.

“Think you can… keep this fuckin’ pussy from me?” He mumbles slamming into your cunt, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he moves your legs from his shoulders to your ears. He loved folding you in half. You loved it too.

His pace was relentless, you felt every vein of his cock brush against your gummy walls. He always made you feel deliciously full. His large hand wraps around your neck, pressing gently on the sides.

“C-close Ryo–” You choke out.

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, feeling you flutter around him. He fucks you through your orgasm, reveling in the way your body writhed and shook underneath him. He felt the tightening in his balls as he pulled out. He removed his hand from your neck, wrapping it tightly around his cock.

He pumped a few times, thick ropes of hot cum decorated your stomach. His now sensitive tip smearing it around your tummy. Your chest heaves as your try to catch your breath, his crimson eyes raking over you. How delicious you looked out of breath–covered in his seed.

After wiping you down he lays next to you, resting his back against the headboard.  You turned onto your side, gaze tracing the lines of your boyfriend's face. His gaze fixed on you with tired eyes. Even now, in the quiet aftermath, that world tugged at him, pulling him away from you, bit by bit. You could feel it in the way he looked at you, a mix of weariness and resignation as if he knew this moment was fleeting, a brief respite before he had to dive back into the chaos that always seemed to follow him.

You reached out, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. For a brief moment, his gaze softened. His hand covered yours, warm and reassuring.

“You checkin’ my vitals doc?” he teased, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. But even that couldn’t mask the exhaustion in his voice.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You question softly, he would never tell you the truth–you knew this. But all the late nights, the endless grind—it would catch up to him eventually. He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes, his larger hand tightening over yours.

And as if on cue, the buzz of his phone shattered the fragile peace, pulling him away from you once more. He let out a sigh, grabbing the phone from the nightstand.

“I’ve got to go,” he muttered, voice flat as he moved to the edge of the bed.

You blinked, the sudden shift jarring. “What? Why? It’s the middle of the night.”

He sighed, grabbing his jacket. “Uraume needs me to make an appearance. Some sponsor event they couldn’t reschedule.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him to stay, but the words caught in your throat, weighed down by exhaustion. You were so tired—tired of fighting, tired of being second to everything else in his life. Instead, you just watched him get dressed, the silence between you stretching thin.

“Go, do what you have to do.” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. ”

Sukuna paused, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual, as if he wanted to say something. But he didn’t. Instead, he nodded and turned away, leaving you alone with the cold emptiness that settled in his absence.

It was never going to work. That’s what you kept telling yourself.

𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ

The memory faded, leaving behind a dull ache in your chest. You blinked, pulling yourself back to the present. Ryomen looked up at you from the examination table, his crimson eyes still holding that same piercing intensity.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you focused on his injury, your hands moving with practiced precision. Despite your efforts to detach, to keep things strictly professional, you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze followed your every move or the subtle tension in his jaw.

“You must be loving this, huh? Seeing me like this.” His tone was harsh, almost daring you to pity him, his arrogance a brittle shield against the humiliation gnawing at him.

“I know you better than those people out there–you’re gonna be fine.” You say calmly.

He chuckles dryly. “You might be the only one that thinks that right now.”

A moment of quiet settled over the medical suite as you continued your examination. The soft hum of the lights overhead and the occasional shuffle of your movements were the only sounds breaking the tense silence. You carefully touched his shoulder, feeling for the extent of the damage.

Sukuna winced, his face momentarily contorting with the sharp flare of pain. His breathing grew shallow, and he looked away, clearly trying to mask his discomfort behind a mask of indifference.

“You've torn your rotator cuff,” you said, your voice steady despite the weight of the news. You could see the frustration in his eyes, the pride that struggled to keep his embarrassment at bay.

“Rotator cuff?” he repeated, his tone a mix of irritation and disbelief.

“Yes,” you confirmed, examining the area with a practiced touch. “It’s a significant injury, but with proper treatment and rehabilitation, you’ll recover. It’ll take some time and effort, but it’s manageable.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightened, and he clenched his teeth, trying to hide the strain. “Great,” he muttered, his voice taut with frustration. “Just what I needed.”

He looked at you with a mixture of exasperation and reluctant admiration.

“I was… an ass to you.” He mumbles.

“You were.” your tone matter-of-fact.

“Alright...” He warned, taking a deep breath.

“If I’m going to be stuck with this damn injury, I might as well have someone who knows what they’re doing handling it.”

He gave you a sideways glance, a mix of challenge and an unspoken request in his eyes. Despite his bravado, there was a trace of acknowledgment in his words, an unspoken plea for your help.

As you nodded, accepting his challenge with a wry smile, a familiar ache settled in your chest. You knew, deep down, that no matter how many times you tried to distance yourself, you could never really be done with him. The stubborn part of you that cared too much, that felt the pull of his presence like gravity, couldn’t quite let go.

“Let’s get you back in the ring.”

[leviscolwill]

adore

pairing: bsf!jude x fem!reader

summary: you adored your friendship with jude, but sometimes you wished things weren't so complicated between the two of you. [wc: 3,2k]

contents: mostly angst ??? a few cute moments here and there bc i'm fluff girly thru and thru 🤞, they can't communicate to save their life, drunk jude, a random man being annoying, jude being a dumb fuck, language, did i miss anything ?

note: this wip has been rotting in my drafts for a couple of months, i hope you enjoy it because i really enjoyed writing it 🫶

now playing adore by cashmere cat & ariana grande...

"please don't leave me y/n... you don't understand, i need you here."

"jude, i'm literally going to the toilet. i'll be back in 5 minutes, now let me go."

your best friend had always been the clingy type whenever he'd reach his alcohol limit (which was usually only after a couple of drinks). but tonight he was practically glued to your side, not that you minded, you basically spent your whole life attached by the hip. but you had to admit, it hurt a bit to see the person you couldn't have, not in the way you wanted to have him, at least, act all lovey-dovey with you.

the nature of your relationship with jude was complex, to say the least. he was your best friend since you were kids and you wouldn't change that for the world. but the way he looked at you sometimes made you yearn for something more, or whenever his touches on your shoulder or your waist would linger a bit too long to be friendly. maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, after all, the chances of jude wanting you the way you wanted him were very low, not to mention the fact you led two different lives. but it didn't matter, you could manage to live and long for him with the hope that one day you could be more than a best friend to him. and this thought was all you needed to face him and his sparkly eyes for the rest of the night.

when you got out of the bathroom, your mind was still full of thoughts of your relationship with jude running in your mind. you were so engrossed in your thoughts that you bumped into a man's chest, not really being careful about your surroundings.

"i'm sorry, i wasn't looking." you quickly apologise to him, you were already on your way to your friends before the man grabbed your wrist, quickly letting it go.

"it's okay sweetheart, can i get your name as an apology ?" you cringed at his poor attempt at flirting with you, but you weren't feeling confrontational tonight.

"i'm-"

"y/n !" jude's voice made your head turn in surprise.

"you were gone for so long i almost forgot what your beautiful face looked like." he said smashing his face on your shoulder.

"is that your boyfriend?"

"ummm, no he's my-"

"depends who's asking." jude interrupted you, side-eyeing the nameless man.

"jude. i can speak for myself." the look he gave you broke your heart a bit, his lips pouting in sadness.

"if he is not your boyfriend, i'd gladly take your number, might even take you back to my hotel room..." it was obvious to everyone around that the situation was uncomfortable for you, that familiar feeling of disgust you always got when a man was being too friendly creeping on you.

"who do you think you are?" your best friend stared at the man with a frown on his face.

"jude, let's not..." the tension between the two men was evident as people stopped to stare at whatever was happening.

"relax mate, i just wanna talk to your friend nothing more." the stranger grabbed your wrist, still looking at jude, testing him, testing how far he would go to stop this.

"let me go." you didn't have to try getting away from him because jude did it for you.

the nameless guy suddenly let you go, and seeing him hold his jaw while screaming profanities at your best friend was all you needed to understand what just happened. jude punched him, but the alcohol in his veins prevented him from dodging the punch that came straight for his eyebrow.

immediately you took jude's arm before he found another idea to mess up your night some more, and walked out of the packed club for some air. you ordered a uber for the two of you and texted your friends that you were getting home early.

even fresh air couldn't rid you of the anger that coursed through your body. of course, you were mad at the man who couldn't keep his hands to himself. but another part of you couldn't help but be pissed at jude and his impulsive behaviour. but when you looked at him and saw blood trickle down from his eyebrow, everything was suddenly forgotten and you could only worry.

"fuck you're bleeding, why didn't you tell me? fuck, fuck, fuck." you searched through your bag for a tissue, mentally cursing yourself for how messy it was, and handed one to jude.

"just didn't wanna bother you..." he mumbled, holding it to his wound.

you both waited for the uber in complete silence, you knew you needed to have a conversation with jude about what just happened but you'd do it tomorrow, when he was sober and when your judgement wouldn't be clouded by anger.

thankfully, your uber didn't take too long to arrive, you helped jude put his seatbelt on after watching him struggle with it for a good minute. the atmosphere was tense and it seemed the driver felt it so he didn't try to make conversation with any of you.

you were halfway to your destination when you felt jude's fingers brush against yours lightly. you took a glance at where your hand lay, on the middle seat, jude's hand was right next to yours and when you looked at him he was suddenly entranced by his shoes, busy pretending it never happened.

you were sick of him acting like a child, so you held his hand, since he obviously wouldn't do it himself. the rest of the drive was silent but the atmosphere was peaceful, a nice change from the club.

you let go of jude's hand once you arrived at the villa you rented with your group of friends. you immediately took jude to the bathroom to clean his cut, he looked like a child while you were gathering the material you needed, mumbling words to himself with a frown on his face.

"is it gonna hurt?"

"probably not." these were the first words you exchanged since the club, the uneasy atmosphere of the room wasn't one you were used to whenever you were with jude. he was the one person who could understand you the best in the world, but it just wasn't the case tonight.

"can you hold my hand?" it was like he turned four again. but you couldn't deny anything from him, especially not when his eyes were glassy from all the drinks he had, so you took jude's hand in yours.

you started cleaning the cut, fully focused on your task, trying your best not to be distracted by the way your faces were inches from each other's.

"you're so pretty..."

if there was one thing you knew about drunk jude, it was that had loose lips. he couldn't keep any secret from you whenever he had the right amount of alcohol in his veins, and that often worked in your favour, but right now his words were only distracting you from your job.

"don't say that..." your heart was racing both at his words and at the proximity you two shared.

"i mean it." he was tracing your jaw with his fingers. you felt your hand quiver at the unexpected contact, and afraid you might mess something up because of jude, you quickly put a bandage on top of his, now clean, cut.

you started tidying up everything you used and expected jude to go to his room but he didn't budge.

"what's wrong?" you were a bit worried his injury was more serious than you thought and his brain was just working a bit slower than usual.

"kiss it better... please?" he said pointing at his bandage with a kissy face.

you were torn between kissing or slapping some sense into the boy standing in front of you. jude bent down so your face was in front of his, you obliged because you knew hammered jude would not have let you go to bed before you kissed him better. not because you wanted to, of course.

he was still unmoved, looking deep into your eyes so you took his hand in yours and led him to his bedroom for him to get a good night of sleep.

once you got jude to his bedroom safely, which wasn't an easy task given how starstruck he was at every little everyday thing in the house, he threw himself on his bed and grumbled something about clothes, before taking off his shirt with no prior notice. you immediately looked at your feet to give him some privacy while he changed clothes. he only giggled at your action saying he knows how much you would like to watch undress. which wasn't true, of course.

you took a quick peek, to make sure he was under his sheets. handing him a glass of water once he had his sheets pulled up to his chin and a content look on his face.

"no thanks, i'm not hungry."

"this is a glass of water?" you were perplexed at jude's words. the fatigue of your body preventing you from trying to understand his nonsense.

"well, i'm not hungry for water." you sighed at his childlike behaviour and considered shoving the water down his throat at some point before retracting, not really wanting to deal with the homicide of one the most in-demand football players of the moment.

you placed the glass on his bedside table and walked towards the door, unwilling to talk to a very drunk jude when all your body asked for was a good night of sleep.

but you couldn't ignore jude calling your name in a tired voice. you turned around to listen to whatever he had to say to you, only for him to beckon you closer with his hand. you rolled your eyes but still obliged, sitting on the unoccupied side of his bed.

"i just wanted to know why you were mad at me tonight." you didn't want to have this conversation tonight, but it seemed jude had other plans.

"because even if your intention was right, i think we could've solved the issue with no fits of screaming and fighting. i know you meant right but you can't just act without thinking all the time." you weren't even sure jude was registering your words properly, his eyes moving up and down your face.

"but i was mad at him too, he kept talking to my girl as if i wasn't right there." although jude was hardly convincing by the way the words came out of his mouth all slurred, you had to admit him calling you his girl put a faint smile on your face.

you thought your best friend was done but he just kept right on.

"fuck, you don't even know how many times i wished i was your boyfriend to stop these men looking at you that way. i mean i wished i was your boyfriend all the time, but especially then and also when you show me whoever you're talking to, you really have a vile taste in men y'know."

you looked at jude in total shock, he wasn't aware of what he just said from the way his face had the same drunken expression as before.

"do you mean it?" maybe he was pulling a prank on you. the look on his face didn't seem too serious, but then again he was drunk, how could you know how serious he was?

he laughed, how could he laugh in what was a very serious situation from your point of view?

"of course i mean it, sometimes it even looks like you want me too, maybe i just thought wrong. just tell me you don't want me, i reckon i could live with the fact i'm your best friend a bit longer." jude's nonsense somehow got even more nonsensical. how could he be saying all this with a smile on his face? even worse, how could he possibly think you didn't want him to be your boyfriend? you didn't even know what to say to him. hell, was there even a right thing to say in this exact situation?

"you can't do this to me jude... you can't just say this shit to me when you're drunk out of your mind. what do you expect me to say? i don't even know if you're aware of what you're telling me right now." words finally found their way out, your voice was much less cheery and much angrier than his as you felt a sense of injustice seeping through your veins. how could he say this to you like it was the simplest thing in the world? did he only love you when he was drunk? did he actually mean that, or was he over-exaggerating things under the influence?

"i love you and i loved you for a long time, please believe me, i know you're my best friend, and i don't want to ruin things between us... but i just needed to get this off my chest." jude was truly confused as to why you were so mad at him for this sudden 'confession'. of course, you didn't have to reciprocate his feelings, but he could only think about how he ruined your friendship for good from the way you responded so vehemently.

"goodnight jude." you left his room before he could add anything, and your thoughts were already running wild. you weren't sure if you should be feeling happy that he felt for you what you felt for him, or if you should be mad at jude for dropping this bomb on you so suddenly when he could clearly not think straight, making you doubt about the whole thing.

if you were overthinking before, your brain was now about to explode from everything that just happened in the span of an hour.

once you got under your sheets, no amount of sheep counting, lofi music, or breathing methods could put you to sleep. your brain was screaming at you, urging you to freak out about what just happened. every and each of your thoughts led back to jude, your own brain was torturing you, forcing you to separate truth from fiction at 3am.

you wished jude told you the truth, you wished his drunken words were his sober thoughts. but you didn't know how you were supposed to act like this never happened if this wasn't the case. how could you possibly come back to your little role, so well perfected over the years, of jude's best friend after he gave you the smallest glimpse of hope? your friendship with jude was the most important thing for you, but you wondered if you'd be able to pretend for the rest of your life or if you would go insane before that.

when sleep finally started taking over your endless train of thought, you came to the conclusion that if he meant what he said earlier, he'd have no issues telling you once he sobered up. you comforted yourself with this idea while your eyes closed by themselves, no more energy left in them to fight for the sake of overthinking.

jude had been avoiding you all day. the only time you exchanged an eye contact was during breakfast and even then he quickly went back to his room, not speaking a word to you. you could tell he was avoiding you like the plague, if he happened to be where you were he'd immediately flee the room, suddenly mesmerized by his phone.

you wished you were mad at him for how he was treating you and how he was making you feel, but the truth is, you could only focus on your heart breaking a little more each time he'd walk past you like you were two strangers.

after dining with the rest of your friends, you decided you were sick of jude's little games. if he didn't want to talk to you, then you would confront him whether he liked it or not.

it took you all the strength of the world to knock on his door after taking a deep breath.

no answer.

there was no way he knew it was you, you were sure of it. maybe he was just avoiding everyone tonight? you quickly refuted this idea, you saw him laugh with a couple of your friends half an hour ago.

you knocked again, a bit harsher this time to make sure he'd hear it. still nothing. you were preparing yourself to knock one more time, with much less hope than the first time.

"y/n, what are you doing?" yasmeen's voice startled you, it almost felt like getting caught doing something you shouldn't be doing.

"um... just needed to talk to jude, do you know where he is?" you couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the question. you were his best friend, if anyone should know where he was, that would be you. and your friend's dumbfounded look wasn't helping the heat creeping on your face right now.

"what do you mean? he left like an hour ago, had an unexpected meeting in london or something like that... he didn't tell you?"

it had been a very long time since you felt this way, maybe since middle school when your math teacher made fun of you in front of the whole class. your mouth suddenly drying, the sensation of your heart constricting, and your eyes stinging, trying their best not to let the sadness spill. it all felt like one big joke, you hoped jude would open the door, he'd tell you he was messing with you, he'd tell you everything he said last night again.

but that moment did not come. you couldn't answer yasmeen, afraid that the truth might spill along with your tears if you uttered a word. you simply shook your head, and went to your room, trying your best not to meet her eyes. your friends weren't blind, they could tell something was wrong between jude and you today, although none of them asked you what happened, they just kept a watchful eye on you and the way you looked at jude, in hopes he'd look back.

it felt good to cry in the privacy of your own room, far from the speculative conversation others were most likely having about the whole situation.

once your eyes were short of tears, you somehow found the strength to take your phone and click on your messages with jude to type a new one.

let's just keep doing what you did all day

i'll pretend you don't exist and last night never happened

probably best for us :)

[bindeds]

[ BITE ME. ] : 1k words » LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM READER. — lucifer sees you reading dracula by bram stoker and apparently he thinks it’s one of the best things that came out of giving humans free will. so he indulges in it.

#tags. biting (obviously), vampire teeth, replication of the seductive nature of vampires, suggestive, blood sucking, blood, explicit consent

a/n. thank you so much for 100 followers! i was supposed to disclose what i wanted to do for 100 followers but i promise i pack a lot of punches! stay tuned for that post bc i will be doing a LOT of things for you personally!

mlist. request something! :>

You were completely and utterly trapped in the jaws that belonged to Lucifer Morningstar as he lifted your chin. His eyes dropped to half-mast as your neck had been exposed to him, the clean skin glowed under the odd lighting of the hotel.

“What’s that you’re reading, honey?”

It’s an amazing thing, whatever it is he’s doing to you right now. Forget the heat rising to your cheeks. Forget that you’d complied to the fact that your neck is very vulnerable in the current state he held you in; your delightful book had still been sitting open and comfortable in your lap with your hand still holding onto either side so as not to lose where you left off. And Lucifer …

Well, he kneeled before you on the bed you shared with him, but he most certainly kept that small distance from your book instead of putting it away.

He leaned back a little, and you get a good view of his striped waistcoat and the way it curved around his … well endowed chest.

He grinned. “Dracula. I like that about you.”

“Dracula?” You couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle. “You like Dracula about me?”

“Oh but you must know that’s no laughing matter. Dracula … is one of the best things humans have ever done with their free will. Don’t even talk to me about vampires …”

Your breath hitched. His thumb froze where it hovered over your bottom lip.

“Vampires …” he repeated in a mutter, as if to think aloud.

You scrambled to hold up the book where you could see it, seeing as Lucifer still had your jaw held high and to the side. But the way you could barely keep the book from spilling from your hands had been more than enough to give you away. Fuck, in this pathetic state, you should have been the one kneeling.

Lucifer hovered just below your jaw. His lips parted, and you shut your eyes to embrace the sensory input of his touch completely; his breath fanned and spread across your skin like casting a thick fog over an abandoned island.

“Do you want to be bitten, my love?” His lips gave the faintest flicks against your skin as he spoke. “To be tasted?”

“Maybe,” you said, and it was nearly a sigh when the way he held you was a vice. Your blood vessels ached to be invaded, to be cut off course.

“Hmmm?” He dragged out the syllable like the tease he was. Then two ends like daggers poked you, threatening to tear through your surface.

They relented soon enough, gliding down instead of sinking into your skin. Your muscles blew ice cold at the lack of a threat.

“What about now?” Your name reverberated deep in his throat, the sound caressed your ear like the sweet thing you were in Lucifer’s hands.

You knew for a fact that this couldn’t have been real. Either that, or Lucifer had reformed his teeth just for this moment, in which case, the more you thought about it the more it didn’t seem all that surprising, the way he would do anything to get you flustered.

He pressed damp kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“I could do this aaall day, my doll,” Lucifer hummed lightly. He finally let your chin fall to its natural position, only for your eyes to fall on him. His face.

His teeth.

Sure enough, they had turned a completely straight row from cheek to cheek except for the two pointed canines—they were the only teeth that shone in the light.

“Luci …” you sighed, releasing a breath like it was a prayer.

And Lucifer was listening.

He drew closer to you, his lips inches from your own.

“Your fantasies are mine to fulfill,” Lucifer soothed, his hypnotic voice slithering to your head and plucking every coherent thought you had left. “Anything is yours for the asking, you just name it.”

“Please, bite me,” you found yourself pleading softly. You bit your lip, averting your gaze. That was sudden, even for you; your tongue flicked faster than your brain could react. “I—I need you to bite me.”

“Good girl,” Lucifer beamed as his grin returned to him, and he wasted no time as he ducked down to your neck and planted chaste kisses in a concentrated spot where your jugular sat with anticipation.

You tilted your head to the side to allow him better access, and his hand instinctively supported the side you tilted on. You allowed yourself to rest in the warmth as your shoulders eased up.

“This is going to hurt, but only for a split second,” Lucifer warned in a deep voice. “Then, I will give you nothing but pleasure.”

You gritted your teeth as lightning struck your neck and your hand tightened on his wrist. He stroked his thumb up and down your cheek, and it did well in easing the pain before the dam of rigid pain gave in and pleasure took its place—took all the places.

His tongue lapped at the wound, teeth still anchored in your neck as you felt a bit of yourself, your cells, blood, muscle strength seep out of you steadily. Your head began to spin, but your limbs fell weak at the sensation that had you on the precipice of something you couldn’t name.

Then, his teeth slipped out of your flesh as his tongue took care of the rest—the forked edges covering more ground as if to seal the wound.

“How was that?” Lucifer pulled back immediately, a bright smile incorporated his face as thin trails of blood dripped down to his chin.

Your head had still been knocking against the edges of your skull, but you managed a smile and maybe a bit of a lightheaded chuckle nonetheless. When you readjusted your legs on the bed, trouble swiped cold between your thighs. Oh, well. What were you expecting?

“Kiss me,” you said.

“Sorry?” He asked. “Honey, there’s still blood on my HMMPH—”

You engulfed him in a kiss as you pulled him by the neck and fell back against the bed. He tried to stabilize himself but it didn’t even take another minute more before both of your clothes were as good as trash on the floor.

[lipswoaface]

dating sean diaz hcs pt 2

- before esteban fixed up a car for sean, u guys would always take the public bus around seattle

- his favorite dates r the ones where u guys go into random small stores and thrift shops

- both of u guys cackle REALLY LOUD at tacky shirts with stupid sayings and get looks from people 😭

- ur fav thing is to go “i found something ud like” and watch sean look up from the racks in excitement to see an overly patriotic shirt that says “don’t touch my truck”

- his face drops into a frown and he picks out something 10x uglier and say it looks like something ud wear

- sean secretly buys what u say is cute but u cant afford bc thrifting is so expensive for no reason these days

- “guess what i got” and he slithers it out of his bag with an evil smile 😭 suddenly him dissing u for an hour straight doesnt even matter anymore

- once esteban texts sean for dinner u guys hop on the bus back home. he never asks sean to come home for dinner alone though! common courtesy to invite the gf

- sharing wired earbuds on the bus ride home always. sean plays little love songs bc he only listens to music that he relates to in that specific moment 😭 corny but cute. he def has songs in his head that he thinks are ur guys’ songs and plays them every chance he gets

- when u first started eating with the diaz family it was so painfully awkward

- though he kind of likes it now, he did not want his girlfriend to get to know esteban or daniel too well LMAO he didnt want to be embarrassed by anything they possibly could say

- still, even when he tried so hard to avoid it, daniel and esteban still found their ways

- estebans the kind of dad to bring up embarrassing stories about sean when he was a kid bc he KNOWS how much his son would hate it

- “y’know (y/n), im surprised seanie boy over here even managed to get a girlfriend in the first place”

- “why is that, mr. diaz?”

- “i remember he thought girls couldn’t poop until he was in middle school! i had to break the news for him—he was in denial for weeks. his voice was shaking when i told him and everything!” u can see sean pause mid-chew in the corner of his eye 😭 “and please, call me esteban”

- you just awkwardly nodded and tried to not bust out laughing. sean notices and kicks u under the table which makes u ACTUALLY bust out laughing

- esteban and daniel knew from there u were one to be trusted

- “i bet (y/n) doesn’t poop” daniel randomly said when u left that night. seans immediately swiveled his head around 😭

- just like with lyla, daniel seemed to have a crush on u as well. the only difference is that sean tries to shut it down REALLY quick.

- “she shits all the time. sometimes i wipe her ass for her bc she shits so much”

- daniel’s “eww…” is like music to his ears

- u always playfully punch him when he does this in front of u and ask why he makes u look bad in front of him

- sean never admits its bc hes jealous of a little kid 😭 he just changes the subject and kisses u bc he thinks hes sneaky

- over the summer he randomly got a buzz and didnt say anything to anybody

- he just opened his front door standing there bald as if nothing happened and ur eyes wld just kind of widen

- u wld eventually tell him it looks good tho bc it DOES he pulls it off so well

- that summer u wld always randomly start feeling his head because the texture is so interesting

- it got to the point where hed just sit on the floor in front of wherever u were so ud get to feel his freshly mowed head

- he always ends up dozing off bc its so comforting and u wld feel his head pressed on ur inner leg.

- u also get the privilege of cutting/buzzing his hair 😋

- sean doesnt trust himself so u guys sit for 40 mins watching a brad mondo video before u start going ape on his hair

- he gets kind of nervous when u get close to his face and does that thing where u switch between a persons right eye and left eye while smiling awkwardly 😭

- surprisingly it turns out good!

- i feel like ud be super nit-picky on ur work, thinking its total ass. he wld just say its perfect over and over again

- he always stares at any reflective surface and smiles like a dork in front of it. even if u did do a shit job, he probably wouldnt notice or care all that much bc he loves blindly ❤️

im on winter break so i get to be cringe and free for endless hours thank u to like the 3 other people who also like sean diaz. u r all real ones

[fonulyn]

Oooh build a fic! 5H 𓃱 ? :3c

(here ya go! :D lmao idk what this is :'D have some stupid flirting lol. under a cut bc it got a tiny bit longer)

-

Leon fucked up. He wasn't paying enough attention. Seeing what once used to be regular farmers wave pitchforks and sickles at him, their eyes crazed and red, just like in Spain, immediately sent him back there in his mind. For a moment, he couldn't even function. He froze, like a damn rookie, and although it was only for a second that was long enough for them to be ambushed.

The pitchfork had plunged straight through Piers' foot, as if his boots hadn't even been there, and was embedded deep into the ground. The movement had sent Piers falling onto his ass, which was a lucky break, as the sickle someone had thrown had ended up buried in the wall behind him instead of in his forehead.

By the time Leon had neutralized the threat and rushed to Piers, Piers was already trying to tug his foot free, and immediately Leon placed a palm on his knee to stop him. "Hey, let me," he grimaced as he looked at the two long spikes that had pierced through the foot, the rest just narrowly missing. "Fuck. I'm sorry."

Piers groaned, leaning back against his hands. "You're gonna be sorry if you don't get me free in a minute." He gave Leon a pointed look, and they'd been friends for long enough that Leon could interpret it as the forgiveness it was. He wasn't quite that ready to let himself off the hook, but now wasn't the moment to self-flagellate.

"I'm gonna need to pull it out," Leon said, but he just got a grunt and a nod. He took that as agreement, so he grabbed the pitchfork, giving it a good tug. It didn't budge, neither on the second try, but the third time Leon put all his weight into it and managed to slide it free.

The strangled cry Piers let out made Leon feel even guiltier. He knelt down, unlacing the boot to get it off. It was sweltering hot around them, if he would leave the wound untreated it would certainly get infected and lead to bigger problems. Piers just watched him, with a pinched look on his face, trying to breathe steadily, as Leon peeled the boot and then the sock off.

The first aid spray was their best bet, so Leon emptied half of the canister, trying to get the bleeding puncture wounds to close up. The smell of the spray wasn't the best even under normal circumstances, but in this sweltering heat it was somehow even worse.

Bad enough that Piers doubled over, barely managing to turn to the side before he threw up.

"You okay?" Leon asked, frowning a little as he knew it was a dumb thing to ask, considering. What he really wanted was to pull the plug on the entire operation, which he knew would be overreacting, but he couldn't shake the feeling either way. Watching Piers get hurt was several magnitudes worse than getting hurt himself.

Piers wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, pulling a face. "I'm fine. We can keep going." Experimentally he moved his toes, aiming for a smile that turned more into an awkward grimace. "See? Everything works!"

Exasperated, Leon sighed. He grabbed a wad of gauze, as it was pretty much the only thing that'd work, and bandaged the wounds the best he could. Then he took the now bloody sock, rolling it back over Piers' foot, trying not to hurt him any more than absolutely necessary. "Try not to get any more new holes punched into you before we're out of here."

"Oh, I already have the optimal number of holes," Piers said, easily.

Leon snorted. "I'd say a couple too many now." He pulled Piers' boot back on, even went on to lace it up for him, before he stood up and offered his hand for Piers. "Let's see if you can walk."

Without hesitation, Piers grabbed the offered hand, pulling himself upright. "As if I have any choice in the matter."

"If I need to, I will carry you out of here," Leon joked, although there was some truth to it. He wouldn't leave Piers behind, under any circumstances. And they both knew it.

"Oh," Piers teased. "Romantic." He winced as he set his foot down but he tried to cover it up. "I'd kiss you, but I literally just threw up."

Leon chose not to comment on the wince, letting Piers have this. Instead he just lifted his eyebrow. "Well. Later."

As soon as they'd get the hell out of here.

[sugar-omi]

Kinda a request but also not: I would like to see jealous/possesive!MC bc I've been somewhat lurking in the tags, and I haven't seen any of it besides one person scraping an idea of both Cove and the MC being yanderes for each other. Like I'm insane about Cove, ik I'm not alone 😭.

It would be super interesting to see how a jealous/possessive!MC responds to Baxter during the step 3 prologue when he hits on Cove. ���

i can ramble abt this forever n ill prbly end making a part 2 to this lol pls even a few of my first post have a lotta jealous/possessive reader w a light yandere theme since im not completely in the scene but the possessiveness makes my brain churn LOL <333

tags : Suggestive, step 3, slight yandere theme, jealous/possessive reader

synopsis : you might be a bit too possessive with cove. but if he loves it and it sets the record straight, what's the problem?

when baxter starts making subtle flirtatious comments to cove, it makes your head spin

of course you know your boyfriend is attractive!

you've seen the way tourists look at him, and when you were still in school, you heard and saw the way other students ogled and giggled to each other about how cute cove is.

unfortunately, you can't just put a collar on him with your name on it. although a small part of you thinks cove might like it.

so even after baxter gets the idea that you're both taken. (not that it needed to be said with the glare on your face and the way you straighten up, pulling cove into you)

you still go to some lengths to make sure he remembers that

instead of just holding his hand, you'll pull him into your lap of you can, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his shoulder/neck occasionally

and if you're in cove's car after a dinner date, and baxter just happens to walk out of his condo where he can see you stretched over the middle console, tangling your fingers in cove's hair and kissing within an inch of your lives...

well that's just a coincidence <3

and if you're coming back from a trip at the beach that was getting much too steamy with your hand dipping under the leg of cove's swim shorts, and run into baxter on the way back

you won't easily admit that it brings you too much happiness to see cove fidgeting, itching to get away so he can be alone with you, and how baxter's eyes widen a bit at the blooming marks on cove's skin

if you can put the grudge aside enough to hang out with baxter during the "sightseeing" moment, then of course the topic of dating and crushes comes up

baxter smiles when you say that cove has only ever been with you, and vice versa.

of course you note the melancholy look on his face, and you feel like he's being sarcastic. or at least half-hearted in his well wishes

maybe the look on your face is a bit too much on the sour side, but you don't worry about that. "cove and i will certainly spend the rest of our lives together. our souls are intertwined after all."

your smile is a bit sickly sweet, but you move on anyway

I wanna talk a bit abt cove though...

yk how in step 2, if you punch/scare/cuss at jeremy, cove admits that he likes it?

I think he knows and sees how jealous, how possessive you are and feeds into it sometimes

it makes his heart beat (and even turns him on) that you're claiming him in any way

he sees how you pull him into your lap, or how you hold onto his arm, or how you kiss him even more when in front of baxter

he knows that when you ran into baxter, you find too much pleasure in how he squirms. and when you finally get back to his room for a little privacy, you're almost feral with how you touch and kiss him

he sees the way you leer and smirk when baxter walks by you two, and cove flushes because even though he's embarrassed bc baxter definitely saw you making out, he's also a bit... excited by it

it doesn't make sense, and it embarrasses him more just thinking abt it, but it just makes him feel so warm and tingly when you act like this that it overrides his shame <33

[thelunarbar]

I hate Kate with every fiber of my being 🤮

I’m sorry would firing off a weapon at random in the middle of the not being the police?

Turns out I don’t remember this real well so that’s interesting

I appreciate that Chris is at least semi sensible even if he is actively trying to kill Derek and Scott

The cgi or whatever on Derek’s not normal bullet wound is so bad 😂

Oh yeah grabbing her hand and defensively yelling no is so subtle

Ooh caught in a lie. Shoulda got their story straight before Allison woke up. Tsk tsk

Scott knows nothing. Typical.

“Studying with Allison” yeah right

Dylan O’Brien has pretty eyes

I wanna punch Jackson

Derek (literally dying) goes totally unnoticed in a highschool are there no teachers or curious students??? Are they all that self involved???

Also Derek (still literally dying) gets jump scared by the bell love it

How did stiles not see Derek at some point while he was in the hallway?

And then Derek collapses in the parking and still no one notices him

“A silver bullet?”

“No you idiot.” Even dying Derek is not putting with stiles shit

Derek (literally dying) (going to help Scott even tho he has absolutely no reason to) needs Scott’s help

Scott grudgingly agrees to help the dying man what a saint

And then promptly gets distracted by Allison shocker

Ik Scott is like what 15 here but c’mon man someone is literally dying and counting on you to save him and all you can think about is getting in Allison’s pants

Oh good more cringey make outs. These are supposed to be teenagers I do not want to watch them make out 🤮

Am I old? I feel like that makes me sound like an old lady but it’s true

I love that somehow while still in town it looks like they’re almost to Derek’s house which is deep in the woods? Yes yes that tracks

“In fact I think if I wanted to I could drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead.”

“Start the car or I’m gonna rip your throat out with my teeth.” Yes threatening the guy trying to keep you alive is great.

Fuck Scott. Honestly. They’re are more important things in life than getting your dick wet

Archery how quirky

Ik it’s like a family thing but still

Cock block chris love it

Ooh awkward family dinner with the gfs family always fun sucker

Why do parent in tv shows offer teenagers alcohol as like a test??? So dumb

“Hockey on grass is called field hockey.” 😂

Poor stiles and poor Derek

“He’s starting to smell.”

“Like what?”

“Like death!”

Yeah let Derek die bc you’d rather not leave your gf. Can we say hero 🙄

Fortunately the bullet he’s looking just happens to be in a special box bc ofc and I get for plot reasons but still

Derek never loses his drama even when dying

I’m with stiles on the whole cutting off Derek’s arm

Love that this whole thing literally couldn’t not matter less to Scott 🙄

I read a couple great fics abt stiles actually cutting off Derek’s arm bc Scott was late that I still think about to this day. I reread them quite a bit

I hate Kate so fucking much even tho he did actually take smth from her

Allison whipping out that condom is probably her best moment ngl 😂

“You faint at the sight of blood?”

“No but I might at the sight of chopped off arm!”

I am so with stiles on this whole cutting off body parts thing

Derek’s Batman voice is really funny to me.

I get why the first idea is to stick your fingers through the grate but I’m pretty sure those things pop out at least generally speaking

Love that stiles punched Derek in the face. Pretty sure he nearly does it again later on in the show

Where did Derek get the lighter? Did he just have that on him? Also so did not wanna watch him stick his finger in his wound gross

Ah teenage stupidity. Gotta hate it.

Ohhhh we finally met Peter! I don’t like him for obvious reasons but later on he’s so sassy and it’s hard not to like him

Knowing what the argents did makes me hate Kate even more and love that Chris broke free of that.

Ofc Scott would defend the argents 🙄 again teenage stupidity

Poor Derek he deserved better

How was there still a lil shard of glass from Kate’s broken window on the edge of the car door??? That seems unlikely

I appreciate that Chris at least had some standards even they still sucked.

Kate throwing the match into the fireplace was sooooooo foreshadowing at the truth to be learned down the road and I do like that

[thatoneandlonelyemo2005]

Some background info for this one!

The punks have this place that is like the lodge but its a car shop with a building connected to it where they all live or stay if their home isn't as good as the others

Also, they all ride motorcycles bc I said so and there just cool like that. BUT here's sprace who is the first couple to get together before Javid was even thinking about each other

-

"Do you even know how good you have it?" Race snapped. 

"What are you talking about?"

Race shook his head, Jack wouldn't know what it was like.. Or even would know about Spot or how Race feels. Jack has no idea but Race yearns, he wants, he needs more. “You wouldn’t understand!” Race yelled at him. Then he turned around and left.

He ignored his phone and planned all night long how to go up to Spot the next day. Although he was thoughtful enough that he wasn’t gonna do it in school. He was gonna do it after. 

Race parked his car in the lot and marched up to Spot at the car shop, crossing his arms, "We need to talk, Conlon." He also wasn’t trying not to think of Spot looking hot with oil stains, the other punks just staring with a look as they watched Spot walk towards him. 

Spot cleaned his hands a bit with a rag and half glaring at him as he stands up and they go a few paces away, "You know you're supposed to text me when you wanna see me. "

"Well I don't wanna do that no more. I just- I want to be able to see you when it's not the middle of the night, Sean."

Spot rolls his eyes, "Yeah well you know why we can't-" 

"Screw the labels! Haven't you've see Jack and David lately."

Spot almost hisses out. "Well just because Jackie boy doesn't care about his reputation doesn't mean I have to either. If you're not happy with this you don't have to keep seeing me."

Race eyebrows shot up, "So our time together meant nothing! What the hell did we do that for? Did you just want sex!? God maybe the labels are right, maybe you guys are nothing but horrible sex driven punks!" 

Spot clenches his teeth, genuinely hurt at the words but not wanting to show it. "It didn't mean nothing.", he almost whispered. "But I can't risk it." 

"So I'm not important enough. Will never be, it'll always be your rep first, huh, Spot?"

"You don't know what you're talking about!" He snapped, "You're not on the bottom of the food chain Racer! You'll always be safe since you're popular, I'm a punk, no one likes us!"

"Then let me help you, we can be stronger together-" 

"I first need to be strong for the others, we can't show weakness, Racer. They need someone to protect them-" 

"And who'll protect you?", Race yells, shoving him. "Who'll protect you when you do dangerous shit or insist you have to do everything alone?"

"Maybe I don't want your help! Or anyones for that matter. Maybe I want to be alone!" 

Race just stares at him for a moment, he swallows, "Alright fine then, you want to be alone then fucking be alone you punk!"

Spot is too stunned to react when Race actually reals back and punches him in the face. He wasn't sure if he'd ever done that to anyone, if he'd ever seen Race get physical instead of just mouthing people off, and he knew this was deeply personal, that he'd hurt the popular boy more than he'd even let on. "I thought we had something.", he spat before turning around and leaving Spot, now truly alone.

Spot watches as Race gets in his car, he speeds off leaving Spot on the ground. 

"Spot what's going on?!" Blink asked while running to him, "Shit your nose!" 

Spot lifted the back of his hand to his nose and there was blood. Race had finally punched him

He let Blink hand him a rag to stop the blood from getting to his clothes and walked back, not stopping at anyone's calls for him, going straight into one of the washrooms, gripping the porcelain of one of the sinks, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He felt tears well up in his eyes, his breathing getting shallow. Had he really just done that? Had he pushed the only good thing he'd had in so long away forever?

Spot slid down the wall and pulled his legs up to his chest. He felt a panic surge in him and couldn't help but wish for Race to hold him. Biting his lip as a few tears fell from his eyes. "God damnit Race!" He quickly wiped his eyes and ran out the door towards his motorcycle. 

An arm grabbed onto him and Spot turned to see Skittery. "Spot! Where the hell are you going?" 

"Yeah we got a car to fix up." Blink walked up behind him. 

Spot ripped his arm out of his grasp, "Let me go! Screw the car. I gotta find Race."

He wasn't sure if they'd assume that he was going to soak him or whatever else, but he couldn't leave Race like this, he had to... he had to go and apologize, beg him to take him back if he had to. Spot jumped on his bike and sped to the direction of Race's house, not sure if he'd be there or not, but it was at least the first place he wanted to check. Not seeing Racetrack's car he kept driving, to the one place where he hoped Race would go now.

Spot zoomed up the hill towards their spot. It was a bit out of the town but enough where they weren't so far away. As he went up the last curve he saw Race's car. Spot hit the breaks and slowed to a stop, killing the engine and started to look for him, "Race! Race please I'm sorry..."

Spot's shoulders sagged in relief when he saw Race sitting on one of the benches in the pavilion, knees pulled up to his chest. At least he was safe. Quietly, he walked to the pavilion, sitting down on a bench across from Race, not wanting to piss him off further. 

"What do you want.", snapped Race, not looking at him, instead glaring into the city after the cliff.

"To apologize."

"Maybe I don't want your apologies." Race mocked Spots words. Spot stayed silent trying to set him off. Race sniffled and rubbed his eyes. "Just yet out of here, not like you care anyways." 

"But I do care Antonio, I shouldn't have lashed out at you. I wasn't thinking. I was only thinking of myself and my reputation and I shouldn't have done that, it's wrong."

"Careful, if you keep doing that someone might think you care. You ain't getting more sex from me, if that's all you're after, so fuck off." Race just curled tighter in on himself 

Spot thought it might be time he stood up and got closer to him. That made Race look at him at least-or rather glare. He knelt down in front of Race, completely getting rid of any mask hiding his emotions, just showing how much he already missed the other boy, how he'd cried, how much he secretly loved him. "Antonio, I'm sorry, I was scared. Scared of what other people'd think of what they'd do to you. I'm not popular and I don't want you to lose what you have."

"I don't care if I lose everything! I just want you Sean!" He screamed out before thinking. The sound echoed off the ceiling a little and it gave Spot goosebumps."I-I just want you Sean." Races eyes begin to fill with tears, "I really don't care about school okay, I just wanna show off my boyfriend like Jack and David do now."

Spot scooted closer and took his hands in his. "Okay. Okay we can do that. If you really want people to know then we can start making out in the hallways startin' tomorrow." Race laughed and tugged at his hands, wanting him up on the bench. Sitting next to each other now, Race's feet on the ground again, he leant forward to finally kiss Spot again, one hand in his blond hair, the other in his leather jacket. Spot didn't hesitate a moment with kissing him back, his hands on his hips.

Race kissed him and turned his head to the side. Tightening his hold in his hair. He broke for air and kissed Spot's cheek, "Sean..." 

"Yes?" Spot kissed his jaw.

"You really mean it? Everything you said about not caring what others think." He felt anxiety spike in him. 

Spot pushed away and looked into Race's eyes, "Every word I said is true okay. I want to be with you." Race didn't answer and instantly surged forward to capture his lips into a passionate kiss.

Spot had no idea how he ever could have thought that he could live without this, without Race, without him to show him the world wasn't completely terrible and to make him feel normal, not like someone who had to hold the world together, not like a failure, just like Sean. He leaned back again, just enough so he could talk against Race's lips. "I love you, Tony." 

The other's eyes widened, but soon enough he smiled widely, hugging him close. "Love you too, you idiot."

-

@chaosfairy18 your boys are back<3

[menlove]

I think the thing for me is, if I put myself in Paul's shoes of being in love with John and believing he's straight, I would probably just assume that John did all that crazy shit to hurt me for no real reason. Which did seem to be Paul's perspective to be fair, and I can only imagine how much more insanity-inducing it would be for him to be told by Yoko or whoever that John had feelings for him, probably thinking for a long time "well it sure didn't fucking feel like it!!"

HSGSHSH THATS THE THING UNFORTUNATELY..... LIKE....... I do truly think this is what happened. To Me. and add to it his doubts after johns death that john ever loved/liked him Which He's Voiced...... man. although I do think they understood each other better than that so I feel like. hm. In My Mind. I have no proof of this just going on vibes alone & a like 3 hour conversation with @o-boogies abt literally this exact thing last night. it's like. To Me? he was so assured of John's love (in whatever manner) for so long so then when it's not there & john has not only moved on but is trashing him publicly and saying they were never close it's like the rug was ripped out from under him & he wasn't sure if he ever understood or knew john as well as he thought he did. like I DO think he knew john loved him and just had repression a mile long (like. he did nearly beat a man to death this is such a vital detail about johns Gay Internal Drama). but only After things fell apart did he come to doubt that & I think it took a lot of people going "yeah no he did Love You (in whatever form)" to like. soothe that? but when you listen to his solo stuff it's....... god it's SO raw how much he is just SCREAMING for John to look at him and love him and see him. like even before his solo career we have songs like oh! darling and I will (.....& the "can you take me back" jam which I will consistently and always overanalyze)

I don't however....... hm. I don't think they ever had A Clear Moment is part of the whole issue. like idk that either of them necessarily "rejected" the other more than they were both just incredibly bad at communicating and wanted to rely on telepathy which is not a real thing that exists. so for Both Of Them the whole thing was like a punch to the face. for john because he just desperately wanted paul to React and for paul bc this relationship he had been very assured in was suddenly twisted into something very ugly and depressing

who was straight who was bi who was gay I Have No Clue I just know those two loved each other so deeply and hurt each other so badly and WANTED to be more (whether u subscribe to the idea that they were strictly in an unspoken emotional thing or the idea that they Have Fucked Nasty).

[the-teapot-hatter]

No bc imagine like MC using one of those gigantic lily pads instead of a small boat (bc boats are expensive) to fish and fucking Jack just sees this human fishing on a giant lily pad. Bonus points if they wear like put the flower on their head as like a hat or smth for “camouflage” LMAOO

Jack has seen a lot of strange things as a part of the Navy. For obvious reasons. Not only would they sometimes be pulled away to suit the position of regular guardsmen, but they would frequently go out with Sailers and deal with pirates.

But even with all of the strange things that Jack has seen, this is by far one of the strangest. To the point, all Jack could think was 'what the hell--'

Sitting on a giant lily bad, paddling out with some twig from a fallen branch, was the strange little human that he's been seeing around recently. Stranger yet, they were wearing the flower from the lily pad on top of their head, with a completely straight look on their face, unmoving.

'Do they think they're blending in or something!?' Jack didn't know what to think. Being left with complete disbelief, though this was far from the first time. Their first meeting, if it could even be called that, also left Jack completely speechless.

Then there was the fact that they were fishing, something they weren't supposed to be doing and was definitely illegal. Jack understands not being able to pay the expensive prices in the market for seafood, however a license is needed for a reason.

People who get licenses have to go through a handful of procedures and background checks, not only to make sure they are as safe as they possibly can be, but to make sure they don't have any affiliations with pirates.

Actually, it could be said that it was to avoid situations like this, because attempting to fish on a giant lily pad certainly wasn't the correct way to go about things.

Just as Jack was about to shout out for them, so they'd come back to shore and give him some other strange and out there excuse like all the other times before, they suddenly wildly jerked around and attempted to stab the water with their stick.

(Not entirely surprising either. One needed a license to buy proper fishing material, but this was ridiculous.)

Unsurprisingly, such an action caused them to tumble into the water. Jack sighed to himself, waiting for them to remerge at any given moment. Only, that's not what happened.

Instead, what he say was wildly flailing arms in the water, and a series of suspicious bubbles. They were drowning. This is why a license is needed. So it can be checked if you can actually swim.

Appalled, and a bit amused, by their stupidity, Jack jumped into the water in a hurry. He didn't appreciate them breaking the law (he had absolutely no right to judge), but he wasn't going to let them die because they were doing whatever it was that they were doing.

When Jack finally did manage to reach them, he was kicked, punched, whacked at (with both stick and fish). He was partially convinced they were trying to take him down with them.

"I'm trying to help you! Hold still!!" Jack snapped, only for them to turn on him with the most offended look, completely unwarranted since he was helping them, and shout--

"I'm a single parent with a child to feed and three guests to host. You won't take me alive!!" Before promptly whacking him with their fish, that they miraculously caught. Is this how Leona felt when he first met them?

"You? What? No, just hold still!" Jack argued, struggling to get a hold of them as they kept slipping away. To add insult to injury, when they finally seemed to be accepting his help, they used him as a stepping stool to get back to the giant lily pad.

Then began paddling away as quickly as possible.

Jack watched, amazed by the sheer absurdity of it all. He could easily catch up to them, but he had never actually been planning on arresting them. So, he watched on to make sure they didn't nearly drown again, where they watched him with a weary glare. Running off once they were on dry land.

Hours later, he was asked a question he hadn't been expecting.

"Howl, why do you have a flower on your head?" One of his other fellow Navy officers asked. He reached up, patting his head, surprised to feel something off.

He grabbed the offended material, pulling it down to reveal a flower. The very same flower the utter idiot had been wearing earlier today. How humiliating.

However, if not for the flower, he was sure he would think it was nothing more than one big fever dream.

[sc0tters]

Winning Start ☆ The BC Girls Take On Sweden

When the girls were waiting for their boys they actually had Ivy and Bailey on FaceTime so they could all unbox the game together “is J okay?” Ivy brought up the question that had plagued her mind all day.

Lillian nodded as she smiled “got a broken tooth but I don’t think that guy will be okay if Jamie sees him again.” If she hadn’t been dazed by the hit she would have gone to hit him “Gabe almost did it for us.” Ryan had to get in between Gabe and the other guy when he saw him go for a punch.

The girls were all surprised by it but they figured they would just ask Jamie about it later “Bails there he is!” Ava smiled as she flipped the phone around letting Will’s face light up when he saw Max and Bailey sat together and their son was in his BC merch that the boys got him when he was born “hey buddy!” Will cheered taking the phone from the girl so he could talk to the duo. They literally spoke every day but Will found himself missing Bailey to the point where he wished she came with to Sweden.

Jacob did the same with Lillian’s phone when he saw Ivy curled up in his hoodie “miss you sweets.” His voice was soft as he could see how tired she was since the game was at 8 for her but she was up at 5 sending Jacob messages “why don’t you go back to sleep and we can talk later?” He proposed with a shrug not wanting to see her go but she could barely keep her eyes open as she nodded “love you.” She mumbled not noticing that it was the first time she said it to him.

Ryan was out next and he went straight for Ava who cheered as she saw him “you played so well!” She cupped his cheeks so she could peck his lips “nope baby I want more than that.” Ryan shook his head making her laugh as he kissed her properly “now that’s more like it.” He pointed out pecking her lips once more just because he wanted to.

Last was Cutter who Lillian swore was the hottest man alive in that moment as he looked at her with his hair all sweaty sticking to his face “cat got your tongue?” He teased seeing how she stared up at him “no but you sure as hell do.” Lillian blurted out making him laugh “note to self, wet hair is the way to go when you’re dating you.” Cutter pulled her into a hug before he kissed her lips too.

Jamie found herself skipping out on the coaches speech at the end of the game because she was in with the medical staff who tried to not laugh at the fact that she had chipped her tooth. One of the Norwegian players shoulder charged her mouth and as her mouth guard wasn’t in properly it meant she lost half her tooth “this isn’t funny!” She complained hearing the giggles that that come the staff as they booked her an appointment with the dentist on their off day.

Jamie wanted to cry as she stared at it in the mirror running her tongue where part of the tooth once was “if you’ve come to laugh go away.” She lisped seeing Gabe in the reflection of her mirror “wanted to check on you.” His voice was soft as the medical team left the room as they needed to start moving their equipment back to the bus “let me see the damage.” Gabe sighed as he sat on the chair next to her.

Her smile was half assed as she showed him her tooth “it’s kind of cute on you.” Gabe joked making her laugh “you think I could still get laid without it?” Jamie was getting it fixed regardless of what he said.” The boy nodded “I’d still sleep with you toothless.” The new nickname had her reaching out to hit him “Ga-vin?” Jamie turned her head to see the Umich player stood looking at them.

Gavin stood there awkwardly as Gabe’s mood changed “I just wanted to come and check if you were okay.” He explained with a smile “yeah it’s a fun little memory.” Jamie shrugged as she watched him rake his fingers through his hair “think the girls want to talk to you J.” Gabe couldn’t help but smirk as she nodded when he placed his hand on her back ushering her out of there.

[kajiimotojiiro]

Who are your favorite and least favorite FKMT characters?

Oh man. Okay. The thing is I love like all of the characters so far (with one major exception) so this is going to be long and probably annoying BUT I have nothing better to do than ramble so.

FIRST OF ALL. Kazuya.... my boy.... I just think he's so fucking intriguing. If he wasn't a gambler I'm sure he'd be that freak cave diving and skydiving and riding a motorcycle 200 mph in the dark with no helmet on just to try and feel something besides immense boredom. He was doomed from the moment he was born. While some authors are literally typing "this is research for writing I promise" in google so they don't get flagged as someone dangerous he's straight up just torturing people for reference. I love the way he speaks. I think he's incredibly endearing despite. Gestures. His everything. I'm actually at a standstill in reading the manga bc I keep just rereading his first chapter he appears in and grinning like an idiot. Anyway. I'm very normal about his crazy ass.

Of course I also adore Kaiji. Who doesn't??? Like. See hims face. He's so cute. He's so hopeless. Living embodiment of the dumbest fucking choices possible. Anxiety gijinka. Sweats more than the entire cast of top gun. The only thing that beats out his obsession to gamble endlessly is his obsession with helping EVERYONE ALL THE TIME TO HIS OWN DETRIMENT. Despite everything he can't help but be kind and determined and I just. Man. Adrenaline junkie who is addicted to his own panic attacks. I love him so much. I cry if I think about him too much.

ENDOU. MAN. I need him to go batshit feral in a Teiai meeting like full nothings gonna stop me now paul Kaye style. He deserves it. As a treat. The entire series is basically his fault so the fact that he keeps ending up in trouble throughout it makes me laugh like bro. Every single time you get involved with Kaiji everything goes to hell for you WHEN WILL YOU LEARN. But also don't ever learn bc I will be sad if he disappears from the manga. Where is his spinoff fkmt. Where is it. And can it just be him in his downtime reviewing restaurants.

Tonegawa!!!! I miss him. Biggest style glow up in the manga tbh. Sure yeah he is an ass and doesn't really see any of the gamblers as people but. I love him anyway. He did NOT deserve what he got. It wasn't even his fault his opponent was batshit insane. I need him back. Please please please please please.

Okay this is already forever long let's have honorable mentions. Ishida - He's so cute and I feel so bad and I cheered when Kaiji punched his idiot son for bitching about him. I hope he was unconscious before he hit the ground. Sahara - Possibly actually the most insane guy in the series. Bro WHY did you wanna be in a death game so badly. Definitely had the young guy mindset of invincibility. "You smell different" Sir WHAT are you fucking TALKING about. He on x games motherfucker. Uhhhh. No okay I'm cutting myself off bc like. I have a lot of feelings.

I lied one more - Mikoko. She deserves sooooo much better than Kaiji I'm sorry yeah everyone loves him but he's kinda just a dweeb. I hope we see more of her actually.

As for least favourites.... Sakazaki is like. He's okay. He's kinda pathetic as all hell but he pulled through in the bog arc. But whenever he starts talking about Mikoko it kinda skeeves me out. I don't think he's doing anything weird or wrong or whatever I'm just like sir why are you imagining your daughter pregnant. That's uncomfortable I don't like it. Otherwise he's okay. He's just kinda there.

OTHERWISE THERES ONLY ONE RAT BASTARD IN THE ENTIRE SERIES I HATE (sorry this ended up being only about Kaiji - you see, it's the only fkmt work I've really interacted with. Otherwise I'm p sure Washizu would have been up there in my faves.) But. Like. Kazutaka just fucking sucks. And believe me, I've loved some shit tier villains before, but he's just. He's not even fun to hate, he's just _there_. "I want more money" OK then like. Get into counterfeiting or SOMETHING that's more interesting than just slobbering all over the screen when you show up. I just can't think of a single enjoyable character trait. Tantrum throwing piss baby who just likes being cruel to be cruel. And again, like, it can totally be done well! He's just fucking 1 note and boring. To me he adds nothing. He's a placeholder when more interesting opponents aren't around. Keel over already shithead.

[the-owl-tree]

I think Shadowsight’s story was more of a tragedy with him living because he never got actual closure for the shit he went thru. A half-assed “apology” from pretty much the whole damn forest except for his parents who wanted him punished for being manipulated and abused and some (Lionblaze) even wanting him dead iirc?? And he just? Clocked in to work the next day like nothing happened and kept being a medicine cat? He got the bad ending actually imo. I don’t like Shadowsight bc I’m tired of “the most specialist uwu sad softboi #8763” being churned out in the series but at least he’s compelling unlike Alderheart, Rootspring and Nightheart and his story is one most people wanted to see end well after all the horrific abuse he faced. But it didn’t? It felt… empty and mean spirited? Which isn’t new for the Erins but usually they do it to women so nobody gaf. Idk I just felt like especially the other medicine cats should have done more to atone for their cruelty. They’re all comrades under the same oath yet they were so fucking awful and treated him at best like a useless nuisance and at worst an enemy. Shadowsight literally ate deathberries out of desperation for an answer that would appease everyone and it’s so obviously a suicide attempt but brushed out to fit the narrative. He deserved better and it was genuinely disappointing that nothing else was done. “Oh Shadowsight, you ARE useful!! Yes you’re allowed to sit with us again. Huh? Apologize? For what” <- Mothwing probably

I feel like him going onto become a bg character with no baring on the main plot and his only acknowledgements are characters going "there's that dumbass who released cat satan" is just. not the plot I think people would have wanted from the guy who played TBC's punching bag for six books straight lol side note....i miss when side characters/bg characters got to have stories and tidbits. Mousewhisker having a crush on Minnowpaw...Spiderleg and Daisy's whole thing....we used to have interesting casts :(

I quite like Shadowsight, I think he stands out from the other examples by actually being strange and offputting. He does weird things and characters comment on his appearance and intimidating looks, makes me actually understand and empathize with his "outsider" status, ya know? Also thanks to osmosis from my mutuals he's a girl to me so there's that lol I think him being so put down by others (facing actual adversity) makes him interesting and my irritation with that comes from the story trying to "both sides" it rather than acknowledge the wider array of issues at hand. I don't think an apology is necessarily needed, I just kind of like narrative acknowledgement. But I'd need to reread TBC for a more succinct argument (i wanna reread tbc anyways, i just need time lol maybe when im bored on campus i'll do it)

I wouldn't call the deathberry thing a suicide attempt, though you could arguably make the interpretation that it is a cry for help in some regards; I think that just wasn't the authorial intent. I do agree he deserved better, it's a bit disappointing how we haven't gotten to see him more :( where is my Shadow and Frost bonding moments :(

[withdrawingramen]

whump writers, when did your whumper realize they might be going too far with their methods concerning whumpee? when did their conscience ( if they have one ) prick at them? i'm interested! (pls dont flop pls dont flop pls dont flop pls dont flop pls) i'll go first, ( cw; lady whump, whump of 17 y/o minor, reference to beating and tasing ) taking kurai and sihyeon, whumper and whumpee respectively, if you've read even one post of mine regarding these 2, you might have an idea of kurai sorano. man has an image to maintain and a temper to keep at bay. every supervisor is given a taser just in case their assigned subordinates start "acting out", but the man doesn't need the taser, sihyeon is well acquainted with his fists and boots. unfortunately. there's been multiple times when she's gotten too far on his nerves and been dealt with a "well-earned" beating, but he always avoids the taster bc funny enough he has no problem thrashing his subordinates with rods or just a plain knockdown but draws the line at tasers for some reason. but i digress, back to the original question. does your whumper ever hesitate, even a bit, when they see someone else's blood smearing their clothes, their hands, the skin on their knuckles tearing and their own blood mixing with theirs of the victim from landing too many blows, do they stop for a breather? kurai sure does. so when he needed his personal punching bag for purpose again, he couldn't help but stop dead for a moment when he heard the crack for the third time. he muttered under his breath that he didn't mean to hit that hard, and out of impulse took out the taser instead. it would knock her out quickly, right? but there was something that stirred in him when the girl's trembling, bloodied hands reached to protect her own torso, as if there was absolutely anything in there to protect her from the incoming pain. something set him off, even though the girl's twitching and wheezing figure at his feet should have been unsettling enough. did she think that he was so cruel that he'd drive a taser straight into her broken ribs? was he that cruel? did he look that cruel to her right now? the pure terror he saw in the girl's eyes a few seconds before, now covered by her blood-matted hair couldn't say otherwise. it sure took kurai all his strength to throw the taser to the ground and just settle for a kick to the face to knock her out somehow. maybe he does need to keep his anger in check. eh, he'll "make it up" to the girl by reducing her service time.

[the-bottom-of-the-abyss]

siren song - chapter 1

previous chapter: prologue

next chapter: chapter 2

A/N: First, thank you so so so much for all your kind words!! I did not expect for this to get as many notes as it did! I'm so happy you guys are excited bc I am too! That being said, this is a long one! Also I changed it to a reader insert bc I think it fits better. If you haven't played the campaign, this mission is straight from it with most dialogue being the same. I really wanted this to feel like you were there the whole time. A lot of it is that mission but there's a small gift at the end ;) Our MC's femme fatale ways will return in full force next chapter!

----

Ghost

27 August 2022

2330, Classified location, Al Mazrah

Ghost approached the helicopter, listening to General Shepard.

"You're wheels up in five."

"Roger."

"Marines are loading in now. You'll be leading with two Sergeants."

"Two?"

"Soap MacTavish and Siren."

Ghost scoffed under his breath. "No last name?"

"It's classified."

Before he could make a smart remark, one of the many soldiers coming off a truck approached him. "Let's get ourselves a win, yeah, Lt.?" The man addressed him causally, causing Ghost to assume this was "Soap". 

Soap lightly punched his shoulder. "Save ya a seat sir."

Just his chipper attitude was enough to make Ghost brace for a long mission. As he was about to go board the helicopter as well, a black SUV stopped close to him, and the backdoor opened to reveal a woman in tactical gear, helmet in her hands, and a rifle on her back. She quickly walked towards him and he took in her appearance; hair pulled back into a ponytail, an objectively beautiful face, and piercing eyes. It was her expression that made him pause. She didn't sport any particular expression, almost as if her own skin was the mask, hiding all underneath.

Almost as if he couldn't help himself, his gaze wavered. He silently scolded himself as he looked her up and down, his steady pulse feeling more fleeting than normal. Once reaching him, she stuck out her hand and looked him straight in the eyes, not even acknowledging his skull. "Siren, sir. Nice to meet you."

Logically, Ghost knew there was another Sergeant, he was told so. But for some reason, he was taken aback at the beautiful and seemingly fairly young woman in front of him. It was clear she was an American, the only one on their current team.

He shook her hand, noting that her hands were much smaller, but her grip was just as strong as his. "Ghost," he replied. "Board the heli, we're leaving in a few." 

There was something about her. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but she was hypnotizing, and by the look in her eyes, dangerous too.

"Fucking hell."

----

Siren

27 August 2022

2345, In helicopter en route to Al Mazrah

You sat in between two marines who kept glancing at you, not that you payed any mind. No, you were more intrigued by the man in front of you. The man with the deep, British accent: the Liutenant. He wore a skull mask on top of a balaclava, the only thing truly visible was his eyes. Those same eyes gave you a thorough look over earlier, not bothering to hide the action. Unlike most men he didn't shy away from sustained eye contact. 

In fact, his gaze was on you right now and intense; it made you feel a flicker of something you hadn't felt in a very long time.

You cocked your eyebrow, asking what he was looking at. 

His eyes then narrowed as if to say: Indeed, what am I looking at?

It felt like a contest, seeing which would break first; the tension felt like—

“So what’s your name?” 

Soap, the Sergeant with a Scottish accent, interrupted the intense moment, bringing everyone’s attention to you. 

“Siren.” You replied, not bothering to elaborate. 

There was a pause, Soap looking at you expectantly. And while he wasn’t looking anymore, you could sense that the Lieutenant’s curiosity was also peaked. 

“Why?” The Sergeant asked. 

You took a breath. It was always…. odd to explain your name. It’s not like you chose it. And for those who were stupid enough, would comment about your “tactics.” You didn’t know these men, and they didn’t know you; it was probably better that way. 

“I suppose if we’re working together,” you started, “you’ll find out eventually.”

And with that, you didn’t say anything else. Instead, you chose to examine your rifle, the SP-X 80; reliable, and quick— two of your favorite things in a weapon. You did like getting up close and personal, the adrenaline, the satisfaction at successful fooling others into believing you were some innocent but seductive woman instead of a cold-hearted killer. However, if you couldn’t do it close, you liked being far. 

Eventually Ghost stood up and began his brief. 

“Bravo team offloads here. Alpha team stays onboard to land downrange. Both teams meet in the middle. Remember, we want Hassan alive, but this is capture or kill.”

The marines singalled their affirmative, whether by nods or a “Yes sir.” You and Soap both got up to follow Ghost as he went to exit the helicopter.

“Keep up Soap, Siren,” he threw over his shoulder as he stepped out.

You put on your helmet, slung both the rifle and an M4 over your back, and put on your night vision goggles, everything appearing in shades of blue. 

“Razor-1, all Bravo deployed. Moving to secondary HLZ.”

The helicopter flew on ahead while you and the others with you moved forward through the destroyed cobblestone.

All of sudden, shots were being fired ahead, followed by a panicked pilot on comms. “All stations- Razor-1 is bracketed, we’re getting lit!”

“Incoming-Flares! Flares!” flares erupted from the helicopter, narrowly avoiding being taken out by a missile. “Shit that was close!”

Before anyone could echo their relief, you saw something out of the corner of your eye, something headed straight towards the heli. 

“Second missile!” you yelled into the comms. Unfortuantely it was too quick for them to react and you and the rest of the Bravo team watched the missile collide with the helicopter, sending it spiraling downwards.

“Razor-1 going down! We’re going down!”

It crashed into the ground, landing in the middle of some buildings and erupting into flames prompting Ghost to try to hail the other team. “Alpha, what’s your status?”

Gunshots began to ring out, aimed at the downed aircraft. There was still no response from the comms and you watched the Liteunant attempt to contact them again. “Alpha, how copy?”

Finally, the channel crackled to life. “Bravo—Alpha is immobile. Multiple critical!”

“Oh shit! We’re taking effective fire!”

All you could do was watch in dismay as gunfire rained down on the heli, with only a few shots being returned.

“Alpha,” Ghost radioed, “we’re moving to building 1. Hold tight.”

At that, Soap swung his head towards the Liteunant, “Ghost, we need to secure that crash site now.”

Ghost shook his head, “First we clear for Hassan, that takes the heat off Alpha. Then we secure the crash site. Clear?”

“Roger that.” Soap said.

“Roger,” you echoed.

The team crept closer, guns sweeping in all directions as you moved through the farm plots and up to the building. As you reached the top of the hill where the backdoor was, you began to here Al-Qatala forces talking, yelling to keep firing at the helicopter, anticipating more of us would show up to aid the Alpha team. While it may have seemed cold, Ghost was right; you could admire that: making those hard decisions, ones that seemed heartless to everyone else.

You swapped out your sniper rifle for your M4 and aimed at the door. Ghost pulled out a sledgehammer, “Breacher up!” and smashed the door down, seemingly taking very little effort on his part. Two people were inside, immediately taken out by five people simoltanelously firing.

“Sweep through,” he ordered. Both floors were clear of both AQ and Hassan, as announced by two marines.

Almost immediately, though, one of them shouted into their comms, “Contact! Building two!”

“They know we’re here!” Ghost shouted. You switched back to your sniper and aimed for the opposite building. You took out two while Soap, also sporting a sniper rifle, took out the others.

“All stations, crash site is taking rocket fire from building two, second deck!”

“Alpha,” Ghost responded, “taking building two now, hold fast!” He gestured for the team to follow him towards the back of building two and instructed Soap to enter through the window. You followed Ghost in, and watched as he threw a knife and hit an AQ member dead center in the face. While you didn’t have time to think too hard about it now, you noted to file that memory for later. He kneeled, pulling the knife out of the man’s face before gesturing to go upstairs. Before you could move forward too much, the soldier infront of you was shot from a room attached to the hallway. “I’m hit!”

You quickly shot his attacker and he mumbled, “Someone in the next hallway.”

You moved forward with your M4, taking out the person aiming at the heli with a rocket launcher. Soap appeared before and spoke into the comms, “Ghost, Siren took out the enemy rocket.”

“Roger. Time to hit the crash site,” Ghost responded. “Siren, how are you with that rifle?” At some point he removed his night vision googles, revealing his eyes, visible through his mask. Maybe others shied away from his gaze, but you never were one to back down.

You looked him straight in the eye and replied, “Deadly, sir.”

You could have swore his eyes widened a fraction, suprised by your answer. 

“Stay here on the balcony for cover fire, rest of Bravo, circle up outside.”

The rest of the team left, talking to your team member who was shot in the chest plate in the hall.

You made your way out to the balcony and laid down, propping up your rifle and watched as Ghost and Soap made their way to the helicopter, everyone else fanning out in front of building two for cover.

The comms crackled with Ghost’s gravely voice, “Expect contact. AQ’s waitin’ for us.”

 Both of them were only in the heli for a few seconds before you spotted enemy combatants approaching from the tree line.

“Engage!”

As soon you heard his order, you found your first target. You emptied your mind of all concerns, wrestled control of any errant thoughts of this or that. You took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

—-

Ghost 

28 August 2022

0030, Al Mazrah, U.R.A.

‘Deadly, sir’ she says, he thought to himself. He can hear himself calling out directions of enemies to the others, his firing on autopilot. But everytime a target becomes to close for comfort, they fall, bullet to the head. And he knows Soap is firing in another direction, leaving only one person to be taking them out at a rapid speed.

Something about her prickled his senses. Maybe it was her demeanor, her confidence. Maybe it was that she looked like she knew what everyone else was thinking. Maybe it was that she seemed to challange him with her eyes whenever he looked. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

For now, he didn’t have time to entertain those thoughts, busy on trying to prevent being pinned down by AQ.

After the first wave was over, he ordered for Bravo 7-6 to call in air support, not wanting to get overrun by any reinforcements that were surely on their way.

Before air support could arrive, smoke rolled into the treeline.

“Siren, do you have a visual behind the treeline?” he questioned into the comms.

“Take cover—They have grenade launchers! I’ll take them out!” she responded in an urgent tone.

He heard one shot….two… three… four… five…

“Ghost, launchers gone. More AQ on the field.”

Both he and Soap worked on clearing out the rest of the field, eventually all movement ceasing.

In the stillness, he radioed back to his other Sergeant, “Siren, I need you down here right now.”

“Roger. Moving.”

Soap approached his side, “Ghost, we should fall back to the house.”

“Negative,” Ghost said, “We clear this position and push. If Hassan’s still here, he’s out ahead. 7-6, patch us through to air support.”

“7 Actual, Kilo 0-1. Fire is one mike.”

“Kile 0-1, you’re cleared hot on anything forward of our position. Danger close approved.” As he was talking, Siren joined them in the heli, nodding at him and Soap.

“You’re a damn good shot, lass,” the Scott declared, earning him a small smile from her.

Before he could say anything, Bravo 7-2 interuptted, “Lieutenant, we got armored vehicles incoming. Four of them.”

Ghost was not suprised, but it wasn’t ideal for a downed helicopter to be the only cover you have against APCs. 

“Standby for engage!” he ordered. “Get ready….!” 

The vehicles made their way onto the field in front of them. “Cut ‘em down!”

They rained gunfire on the vehicles; the air support pilot’s voice broke through: “All Bravo, Kilo 0-1 is inbound hot, danger close.”

“Engaging secondaries.”

The vehicles were taken down in quick fashion, any stragglers also meeting the same fate.

“We clear?” Soap asked.

“Fuckin’ hope so,” Siren replied, still aiming her rifle through the helicopter windows.

After ordering for a bird to be ready for exfiltration he addressed the team in front of him. “Get yourselves sorted. Hassan is still the target.”

“Aye,” Soap approved. “Let’s go get this fucker.”

They quickly moved away from the helicopter site and made for the compound in front of them.

“They used the helicopter as bait,” Siren observed, taking a position on his left.

“They’re well supplied and fighting smart. Thanks to Hassan,” Ghost replied.

The team made their way through a grassy field, frames of various structures littering the area. 

Not even a second after the compound came into view, a green laser also appeared. The soldier to the left of Siren was shot, prompting her to yell out and move closer to Ghost. “Fuck! Man down!”

“AQ sniper on the roof!” he called out, “Get down!”

Ghost knew just by her rank that she has seen combat before; hell, she was a sniper herself, she didn’t need his aid. But for some reason, he found himself roughly grabbing her arm and dragging her down to the ground with him. She landed pressed against his side, caught offguard by the force of his pull. 

A second passed and she quickly went prone on the ground and both her and Soap aimed for the roof.

“Sniper down!” Soap exclaimed after firing a shot. 

“More snipers on the roof, take them out!” Ghost ordered.

Siren fired two shots, one right after the other, and he saw to bodies fall instantly. If nothing else, she was a damn good sharpshooter.

Despite their best efforts, 7-5 was shot. 

“They’ve got fucking nightvision,” Siren said as she fired off another shot, “we’re sitting ducks out here.”

She was right, and he knew it. “Soap, Siren! Keep us covered, we’re moving up!”

As he crouched and moved up, he kept hearing the two snipers firing but it wasn’t enough to keep all the heat off of them.

“7-6!” Ghost yelled, “I want air support fire on that building now!”

“Ghost,” Siren said, sounding slightly dumbfounded, “we don’t fucking know if Hassan’s in there!”

He gritted his teeth, annoynace flaring up at the pushback. “They’re forcing our hand! 7-6, hit that building, but don’t level it.”

“Kilo 0-1 to Bravo team, copy that, making our run.”

As soon as he saw the helicopter, he yelled out to the remaining team members, “Force up to that wall! Move!”

Building 3 was lit in a fire, tinted yellow by the nightvision googles, shots coming from every which way.

“That’s a glorious sight,” Ghost said, crouching behind a half crumbled wall.

“Thank Christ for air support,” Soap commented.

“Yeah,” Siren said, swiveling her head towards Ghost, “hope Hassan’s still in one piece…”

“Several pieces will do,” he replied with a smirk hidden behind his balaclava at the way she shook her head in disdain. “Easier to find that way.”

He continued, not waiting for her reply, “All Bravo, move up. I want this building locked down. Lead us in Soap. Siren, behind me. Let’s find Hassan. Dead or alive.”

Siren took a staggered position behind him, an M4 aimed at the opened door.

Soap, barely two steps in, fired at an assailant running for him. Seemingly clear, Ghost entered, followed by Siren.

“Check the bodies,” he ordered. “We need positive ID on Hassan.”

None of the bodies nor any of the alive hostiles Soap encountered were ID’d as Hassan, prompting Ghost to order the team to the second deck.

Soap fell behind while Ghost and Siren lead the others up the stair. A closed door was on the right; Ghost looked at Siren and nodded his head towards it. She took position, aiming at the hallway in front while Ghost approached the door from the side. Ghost didn’t need to open the door as the door began to open, a rifle aimed at Siren.

Ghost opened the door the rest of the way and grabbed the solder by his rifle and slammed him into the wall and quickly shot him in the heart and the head before letting the body hit the ground.

Ghost continued into the room, feeling Siren at his back. “Got two X-rays,” he informed her at the site of the two wounded AQ soldiers in the room. “Dump ‘em.” 

Two single shots were fired and they dropped to the ground. 

“Clear,” she said. 

“Hassan’s everywhere,” Ghost commented to no one in particular. Three screens were playing speeches by him, denouncing the West for taking out Ghorbani.

“Everywhere but here,” Soap retorted.

Soap pushed forward first, follwed by the rest. Several people jumped out but were promptly eliminated. 

The room they entered looked well used but had blueprints. Combined with the previous room that had a dozen computers, Ghost called out, “He was here. This is a bloody ops-center. Poke around, Soap.”

Ghost watched Soap move towards the desk after checking the balcony and move around several papers. Then he moved on to the jacket draped over the chair.

“Look,” Soap called out, “Hassan’s uniform.”

“So he was here,” Siren concluded.

Ghost nodded. “Lost him when we secured the crash site.”

Soap looked at him incrediously, “Are you sayin’ we shouln’t have helped?” Interestingly Siren did not seem put off by his statement like Soap was.

“Choices have consequences,” was all Ghost said in reply, not willing to discuss the ethics of prioritizing team or target.

“All Bravo-we got movement out here.”

“On the way,” Ghost said into his radio, locking eyes with Siren on his way out. “All Bravo, circle up outside.”

As they moved out of the building, Soap voiced some of his thoughts out lout. “If Hassan’s gone, then what the hell are they still protecting?”

“Good fucking question,” Ghost heard Siren say somewhere behind him.

The night air fully greeted them once more along with the rest of the Bravo team. 

“What do we got?” Ghost questioned.

“A warehouse,” Bravo 7-6 replied. “Roll up door’s open. Heard somethin’ inside.”

“Copy, let’s clear it.”

After entering, the lights suddenly flipped on, forcing them to remove the night vision goggles. Bullets were aimed their way, hitting the shelves they took cover behind. Ghost reached around to fire at the soldiers, being mirrored by Soap and Siren. 

“Fuck!” he heard Siren yell loudly. “Grazed me!”

Ghost whipped his head around to see her pull a bloody hand away from her upper thigh 

He watched her eyes narrow in fury and continued shooting, not caring about having to lean on her good leg for better support.

Ghost didn’t bother telling her to fall back; the inferno present in her expression told him that it wouldn’t be well recieved or listened to. 

Soon enough, all the threats were taken care of, leaving them to finally be able to locate what the hell AQ was so desperate on protecting.

“Search the warehouse. Let’s find what they were hiding….”

Serious weaponry was found along crates of ammunition. Ghost shook his head in slight disbelief at all the hardware present. “This warehouse wasn’t on the intel.”

“Guys, come look at this,” he heard Siren yell.

She stood in front a blue shipping container, gun trained on the doors.

Ghost walked to her side, glancing at her leg, blood visible through her gear.

“It was just a graze,” she said, eyes still on the container. “I’m fine.” Before he could say anything else, Soap approached the doors of the crate and opened it, revealing a server and a control console. 

“What the fuck is this?” he asked.

“It’s in English,” Siren observed.

 Ghost and the two Sergeants backed up to look above the container.

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Soap breathed out.

“Ballistic missiles,” Ghost said, not quite believing his eyes.

“It’s a mobile laucher,” Siren added, “These’ll go 1,000 miles.”

“At least…” Ghost trailed off.

Soap was the first to break out of their stupor, walking around to the side and climbing the crate for a closer look. “How the hell did Iran get their hands on this?”

Siren walked with a slight limp around to the side as well while Ghost hailed Laswell.

“This is Watcher-1, send traffic.”

“Laswell, this is Ghost,” he said as he walked to stand beside Siren. “We got something.”

“Tell me you found Hassan…”

Before he could reply, Soap interupted, “Guys take a look at this…”

Siren let out a quiet gasp and muttered in disbelief, “What the fuck…”

Ghost finally could see what she was suprised at. The missile launcher had an American flag on the side.

“Ghost, do you have Hassan?”

“Negative,” he told Laswell. “We found a weapons cache. Hassan’s got missiles… they’re American.”

General Shepard’s voice broke through. “0-7- this is Gold Eagle Actual, repeat your last…”

“I say again—Hassan has American missiles.” 

——

Siren

28 August 2022

0300, Safehouse, somewhere in Al Mazrah

After the missile was found, they were ordered to exfil, with the marines returning to the nearest base while Ghost, Soap, and you stayed in a safehouse for further instructions. The drive was a quiet one, the three of you stuck in your own thoughts about the missile situation. 

The safehouse was low-profile, surrounded by nothing but trees. It had three bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen you noted as the three of you entered.

“I call first shower!” Soap exclaimed, brushing past you and Ghost, making a beeline for the bathroom. You sat your bag with your weapons and clothing down in the living room before looking in the kitchen for a first aid kit, sporting a slight limp. As you looked around, you heard Ghost venture down the hallway, likely picking a room.

You finally found one under the kitchen sink and took a seat on the couch, rag and kit next to you. You looked at blood from the wound; you could feel it wasn’t very deep, but definitely noticable and painful. As you threaded a needle in preperation, you heard light footsteps behind you. You looked over your shoulder and saw Ghost, mask still present, looking at you. His gaze fell from your face to your thigh. You drew in a steady breath and returned your attention to the needle. Once it was tied off, you wet a rag with rubbing alcohol and set it aside as well.

Before you could do anything else, he walked up to you and spoke for the first time since arriving.

“I’ll stitch you up.” 

You nodded, not feeling like arguing, and it was at a weird angle for you to do yourself. 

“Stand up and take off your pants,” he said in that deep tone of his, looking at you with piercing brown eyes.

You scoffed quietly and unbuttoned the top before gently stepping out of your pants.

“No dinner first?” you teased, standing before him in only your long sleeved shirt and black underwear.

“I usually skip straight to desert,” he said as he kneeled in front of you, eye level with your wound. You sucked in a breath at the sight; it had been a long time since a man kneeled in front of you other than to beg for his life.

He grabbed your injured leg with one hand, while the other grabbed the cloth and began to clean the wound. You hissed at the stinging sensation but otherwise stayed still. Maybe you should have been making some small talk but you found it hard to focus between the pain and the hand wrapped around your thigh to keep it still. 

“Good work on the mission,” Ghost said, placing the cloth aside to instead pick up the needle and thread. His knuckles double tapped your inner uninjured leg, motioning for you to spread them apart. You did and quietly sucked in a breath when he leaned closer to get a better look. 

“You are a deadly shot.”

“Thanks,” you said, wincing when the needle first went in. “Though I prefer up close and personal.” His hand twitched slightly, tightening by a fraction. His focus was on stitching up the graze on the side of your leg but you were focused on his hand that held the inner part of your thigh. He moved his hand up as he worked, index finger nearly grazing the edge of your underwear. His closeness was awakening desire in you; you could feel your underwear getting more damp and just hoped he couldn’t smell your arousal. Part of you wanted him to move his hand to spare you from getting so worked up. But the other, much louder part of you wanted him to slide his hand up, hook two fingers into your panties, pull them aside and—

You closed your eyes, willing your face not to redden; you have men constantly touching you for a job, for God’s sake! 

You weren’t so naive to think he was the same as all those other men, though. No, this one was different.

“Finished,” Ghost said, “make sure not to pull them.” You looked down at him and found his eyes already on yours.

You could see that he was likely wearing a neutral expression, but his eyes revealed a split second of heat before being schooled into indifference.

Not looking away, he gave your inner thigh a squeeze and let his hand travel down the inside of your leg, finally dropping when he reached your knee.

He stood up, and for a second, you could have swore you saw him glance in between your thighs.

Again, the two of you stared at each other, a tension building and building, one of you having to break first; he took a small step towards you and—

“Am I interrupting something?” 

Soap walked into the living room, hair still wet from the shower. Of course, from his view, it was odd, seeing his fellow Sergeant in her underwear with his Lieutenant.

“No,” Ghost said, moving towards the hall. “We were just finished.”

You pulled your pants back on and went back to your room, replaying whatever the fuck just happened.

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