#but there's always this thought in the back of my mind that yeah maybe if i exercise it will also help me in looking a certain way

[fruittt-punchhh]

what about a toji fic where the reader dominates him? She ties him up and teases the hell out of him and he’s pisseddddd, he wants to escape that rope so bad but he can’t, and when he DOES he goes feral. i feel like that’d be scrumptious 🤌🏻

everyone please let anon cook.

MDNI!! incredible smut ahead, this is your final warning.

WC: 4.8k

CW: Toji x reader. Breeding. Name calling. Teasing. Little bit of free use. Toji is a whiny begging mess?!?!? Smut smut smut.

“Hey babe?” You call from the kitchen of your shared apartment. There’s a few creaks in the ceiling above you as you hear who you assume to be Toji shuffling to his feet.

“Whaddya’ want?” Toji yells from the top of the stairs, not wanting to make the full commitment of coming down just yet.

“Could you come down here? I wanna talk to you,” you yell back before he’s hesitantly taking the first step down. He was nervous since your birthday was in a few days. He wanted to play the nonchalant type and then surprise you this weekend with a party full of friends, drinks, and music. He already had plenty of presents picked out, buying one for each day of the month.

You were nervous, too. Your birthday was in three days and while you’ve mentioned it on and off to your boyfriend, you were still scared he’d forget. He worked at odd hours of the night and you didn’t even know if he had to work on your birthday. Birthdays weren’t usually a big deal for you, but you at least wanted him to acknowledge the day somehow.

“Hey, y/n, what’s up?” He says, heavy feet dragging the floor before he hugs you from behind.

You turn to face him, finding it a little difficult to escape his strong grasp.

“Remember that special day coming up soon?”

Oh god. Here you go. He wanted to act as if he had no idea, hoping to not spoil the surprise in case you asked if he made plans. But seeing that poor look in your eyes was enough for him to drop the façade.

“Of course baby doll, it’s your birthday. Why?”

Oh. So he did remember! Why has he led on like he didn’t?

“Well, it’s sort of embarrassing but I wanted to ask you somethin’. Figured you’d say no if it wasn’t my special day,” you admit, crossing all of your fingers and toes that Toji doesn’t laugh at your request and walk the other way.

“Shoot. Nothin’ to be embarrassed about, hun,” he says, putting a hand on his hip and the other on the counter, leaning into it while he studies your expression. You looked hopeful but scared, like a stray pup on the side of the road that just met their new owner.

“So ya’know how you like to tie me up sometimes when we…do it?”

How elementary.

“You mean when we fuck? Yeah, I like it quite a lot. Love seein’ you tied up on your back for me, ready to take me. If that’s all you want for your birthday don’t worry, I was plannin’ on doin’ that already, love,” he responds earnestly. You two didn’t use the ropes that often as Toji preferred using his own hands and arms as your restraints. But he always saw the way your face lit up when he tightened the rope around your wrists, corded nylon digging into your soft skin hard enough to leave marks for a few days.

“Well I was thinkin’ maybe we could do it like that but the other way around…?”

Jesus, if you weren’t blushing already, you sure were now. Toji always gets excited when you talk to him about anything remotely sexual. It seems as if a switch was flipped when you mentioned the ropes as he was now towering over you, green eyes peering into yours as he drinks in every word that leaves your lips.

“So tie you up and fuck you in doggy? We’ve done that before, ya’ just gotta’ ask, sweetheart. Use your words and be clear with me, you know how I feel about trying to read through your lil’ mind games you like to play,” he says with a smirk on his pretty face.

He grabs your hand in his, fingers interlocking as he rubs his thumb over yours as if you two were being purely romantic and thinking no kind of sinful thoughts.

You huff when he grabs your hand. You thought he’d catch on by now. You were never one to really take initiative in the bedroom. Toji always had to ask what you wanted and make you speak up if you mumbled too lowly. You were too embarrassed to voice your needs to him although it was something he could never get enough of.

“No, I-I don’t mean like that. I was thinking I could tie you up…?” You ask, nearly closing your eyes for fear of him laughing in your face.

He grips your hand tightly.

His other hand flies to your waist, large thumb pressing into your ribcage, hard.

His eyelids are lower, and his eyes quickly dart between your lips and your eyes.

Was he… mad? You couldn’t tell. When he got angry, he looked awfully similar to how he looked when you two were in bed together. A part of you found yourself slightly excited whenever he did get mad, losing yourself in his aggressive body language and taut figure.

“Oh. You wanna’ tie me up?” He removes his hand from yours, bringing the back of it up to your cheek as he brushes the hair out of your face.

“That’s what you’re all embarrassed about? You’re too cute. What’s gotcha’ wantin’ to take charge all of a sudden?”

Fuck it, you think. If there was a time to be honest, it was now.

“Well… I was watchin’ this video the other day. She had him tied up.. and it looked like he really liked it. Jus’ wanna make you feel good,” you admit, knowing the video you saw was much more explicit than your words let on.

“Make me feel good? On your birthday?” He asks.

He was trying to keep his cool as he pictures you finally taking control. He loved having the say-so in bed and he was more than happy to keep it that way. He liked to push your buttons and make you squirm, making you speak clearly when you asked him if he could eat you out or kiss your neck. But something about this scenario has him feeling red hot.

“I mean we d-don’t have to, I just thought it’d be fun to try… I even looked up knots I could do and stuff,” you beam, overly excited that he hadn’t shut you down the moment the words left your lips.

You were so precious. Doing research on a project you hadn’t even gotten approval for yet, overzealous at the slight chance he might say yes.

“Aw hun, look at you hittin’ the books. You think you could find some rope I can’t break out of?”

This conundrum had occurred to you, and you’d taken it upon yourself to run to the hardware store a few weeks ago to find some rope that was somewhat Toji-Grade.

“Maybe? I went to the store a while ago and found some I think might be good,” you respond as you watch the smirk leave his face.

He steps impossibly closer to you, now covering you completely in his shadow.

“If you’re extra good for me and you let me fuck you whenever I want, however I want for the next week, you have yourself a deal,” he says, quite excited to have you ready to use at his disposal as he pleases.

Holy shit. He actually said yes? All you had to agree to was a shit ton of sex for the next week? This was going to be your best birthday yet.

“O-Of course, baby,” you coo.

He picks you up by your thighs and puts you on the counter, attacking your neck with his lips, tongue, and teeth.

“How ‘bout we get started on that free use now then, huh doll?”

The day was finally here. You’d all eaten your cake, opened way too many presents, and the drinks were flowing. Most of your friends had left, only leaving a few stragglers that were currently looking for their belongings before their ride arrived.

You were starting to get very nervous. You had practiced a few of the knots that morning while Toji was out getting your cake, and you were sure you had the basic ones down. You had never practiced on a live model before, but you were hoping the glass of liquid courage you just finished would boost your confidence.

You wave the last of your friends goodbye, thanking them for coming. Toji had thrown one hell of a party. You twist the deadbolt to the left after you make sure your friends make it to their cars safely. You turn around to see Toji going upstairs.

“Where are you runnin’ off to?” You ask, hoping he hadn’t forgot about his promise.

Always so nosy.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget. Gotta shower first, get yourself ready baby,” he says, not even turning around as he reaches the top of the stairs.

You rush upstairs as soon as you hear the shower faucet running. You grabbed one of your kitchen chairs, trudging upstairs, trying not to hit the walls on either side of you.

You steady your breath as you place the chair on the hardwood. You grabbed the rope from your closet and took your party dress off to reveal your black lingerie underneath. You sit in the chair, tapping your foot wildly while you wait for your best present yet.

You hear the doorknob turn and you hop up, grabbing the rope tightly as you try to calm your nerves. You knew this wouldn’t be good for either of you if you half-assed it — the whole reason Toji made you fall apart when you two had sex was because of his confidence with his words and actions. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that the more into it you were, the better it would be for your man.

He saunters into the office, droplets of water still beading off of his musculature while clouds of steam rise from his figure. All he had on his lower half was a short white towel, leaving next to nothing to the imagination. He lets out a whistle as he sees you dressed in your not-quite birthday suit.

He walks towards you, reaching his hands out to grab your waist and pull you in for a heated kiss.

Or so he thought.

You poke your finger against his burly chest, trying with all your might to push him back, though all you do is stop him in his tracks.

“Uh-uh sir, no touching. Sit down.”

He laughs at you, apologizing as soon as he saw the hurt look on your face.

“S-Sorry baby, didn’t think you’d be ready to start quite yet. This is gonna be hard for me ya’know, but I’ll try my best to act like how you do when we fuck, okay?” His reassuring words ease your worries, as you grab his hand and lead him to the chair.

You walk to the back of the chair, placing one hand on his buff shoulder, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “don’t call me baby. it’s ma’am and nothin’ else, yeah?” You ask, trying your best to channel whatever dominant nature you possessed.

Fuck. He told himself he wouldn’t like this. He needed to regain his composure before you got any bright ideas about dominating him more often. He mumbles back a low ‘yes ma’am’ as he watches a small tent form underneath his towel.

You start to unravel the rope, grabbing his large wrists and bringing them behind the chair before you’re wrapping the thick cord around them.

“What was that? Gonna’ have to speak up f’me,” you said, coining one of Toji’s phrases for your own.

Jesus. You were really laying it on thick.

“I said yes ma’am,” he growls, ashamed at how excited he was that the roles were reversed this time.

“Good boy,” you coo in his ears, noticing how his cock twitches as the sound of your voice.

You’ve wrapped the rope up and around his arms and the back of the chair, and while the first knot you tied around his wrists was shotty work at best, the rest were definitely suitable. You move your way to his front now, wrapping the rope underneath his broad pecs extra tight, loving how the rope accentuated his voluptuous figure. With each taut pull of the rope, his dick would spring up a few inches further.

“Won’t be needing’ this anymore, huh?” You ask as you snake your cold hands under the towel, pulling it off of him slowly as he raises his butt up to let you grab the rest of the fabric.

He huffs as he feels the cool air hit his member, a bead of precum at the tip revealing his love for the scenario he was in all too soon.

“Looks like somebody’s enjoying themselves,” you add, noticing just how excited he’s gotten since you two have started.

“Let me take care of you tonight, baby. I know you’re so stressed from work and you always take such good care of me. Wanna’ make you feel so good, yeah?” You say as you tie the last bit of rope around his ankles.

You were surprised he was being so silent about this. No protests, no sly remarks, no jokes at your expense. He was always so quick and cunning both in and out of the bedroom.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“No, just ready to get this shit over with s’all,” he scoffs, hoping you didn’t catch onto his bluff.

“No what?”

You were pushing him to his limits. He liked this, but his pride was being wounded with every word that left your pretty lips.

“No ma’am. Let’s hurry it up though, yeah? Been waitin’ for you to put that pussy on me all night,” and you can’t help but blush at his words. He took all the dominant energy you were feeling and turned it into submissiveness just with a sentence. You take a deep breath as you drop to your knees in front of him, ready to get the show on the road.

You glare up at him as you run your hands on top of his thighs, fingers splaying over the ropes holding him tightly. He smiles down at you, looking past his cock at your soft lips, aching for them to be wrapped around his leaking tip.

You finally reach the area Toji wanted your hands to be most, running your nail up the bottom of his long dick. He grunts at the contact, not anticipating just how much you wanted to tease him through this.

“So pretty f’me baby, you look so good all tied up when you’re not runnin’ that mouth,” you say, running your thumb on the underside of his tip before he bites his bottom lip.

You wanted to tease him plenty, sure, but you also had needs of your own that needed to be fulfilled, soon. You finally wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, and he was so thick you couldn’t even join your thumb to the rest of your fingers.

He drops his head back behind him, not realizing just how desperate he was for your touch. He’s cursing as you run your hand up his length, stopping to gather all the precum at the tip before you use it as lubrication.

You’re now teasing just the tip, rubbing your hand over and over it, overstimulating his most sensitive area just like he loved to do to your clit when he ate you out. The whiny moans he was emitting made your cunt ache with want. You reach your other hand down to play with your throbbing clit, moaning at how erotic this whole situation was.

“You like i-it too, bab — sorry, f-fuck,” he says before he’s even realizing he said it. He didn’t want to hear you chastise him for not calling him ma’am, but he couldn’t help but speak up when he saw your tiny hand rush down to your sweet pussy.

“What’d I tell you, huh? Am I gonna have to punish you?

He shakes his head with a fervor, responding with a firm “no ma’am”. He was so fucking whipped for you and if Shiu ever found out about this he would have to kill him. Absolutely nothing personal, just business.

You tell him he’s a good boy, wanting to reward him for being so quick to correct himself for you. You reach your head down before you lick his weeping tip so teasingly. He grunts, looking down at your pretty face as you take the full tip inside your wet heat.

“God, jus’ like that,” he whines, needing you to take more of him now.

You suck his tip harshly, pulling off with a loud pop!

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you command. You were all too eager as you cover your fingers in your lust, using it as lubrication to enter yourself (although you wish it was Toji’s fingers instead).

You take in more of him, hollowing your cheeks, using your free hand to stroke the rest of his massive length. You were hardly ever able to take him all the way down your throat, but the liquor helped you loosen up just a little bit more. You shove your head down until he reaches your throat, taking a deep breath before you remove your hand and push yourself almost all the way down. You swallow around him in your throat, trying your best to breath through your nose. Toji is squirming in the chair, so frustrated that he can’t grab a fistful of your hair and fuck your throat like you deserved.

“F-Fuck, takin’ all of me so well, doll,” he says, too lost in the warm wet walls of your throat to notice his mistake. He tries his hardest to buck his hips, making you gag around him before you’re pulling off of him much too quickly. He worries he pushed in too far before you’re sitting in his lap, so ready to scold him for slipping up one too many times.

You put one hand on his chin, running your finger over his bottom lip like he always did to you. You knew you looked far from intimidating right now, but you tried your best to keep up the act.

“That’s three times now baby. Guess I’ll have to punish you after all,” and boy did you have the perfect punishment in mind. You knew how difficult it was for him to keep his hands off of you the entire time, especially when you were reaching a hand down to continue touching yourself.

He tracks your every movement, panting while he watches you push two of your tiny fingers into yourself. He wouldn’t be able to last much longer like this. He knew your knot tying skills weren’t as practiced as his, and the ones you tied at his hands were loose from the start. He starts pulling on the rope more than he already was, hoping he can loosen the hold it had on his wrists to finally take you like he so desperately needed.

“You’re torturing me,” he says, making extra sure not to throw in a nickname like he usually would, “please just touch me, I’ll do anything,” he adds, really hoping you’d give in sometime soon.

You moan on top of him, leaning down to kiss his poor, over-bitten lips. He whines into the kiss, trying his best to be aggressive when all he could do is pull against the tight ropes and hope you take it easy on him.

“Anything, huh? Would you beg for it? I love when you get all needy for me. Beg and I’ll think about it, boy,” you tell him. You loved when he asked anything of you, just knowing that he wanted you had you absolutely melting for him.

He was passed the point of caring at this point. He was painfully hard, his red swollen tip leaking an obscene amount of precum. Watching you attempt to please yourself while he knew that he’d be able to make you cum in a minute with just his fingers was sending him.

“I’d do anything I swear. You don’t know how bad I need you. You look so fuckin’ good and I’m about to cum just watchin’ you. I know you want it, too, you still look so desperate f’me even though you’ve got this whole tough guy thing goin’ on,” he rambles, hoping what he said was enough to break you.

“Me? D-Desperate? I could just cum right here and be done with you, slut. You look like you’re about to explode j-just waitin’ for me,” you add, knowing he was about to fucking lose it.

The knot was so close to coming undone, but he didn’t want to let on as to was he was doing. He had to stop in his tracks once you reach a hand down to tug at his puffy nipple, cursing under his breath. You knew that was one of his most sensitive spots and you were too quick to use it to your advantage.

“I am, I promise I am. I’ll be such a good boy for you, I swear. Please just fuck me. Please I swear I’ll be good I don’t know what else to say just please fucking put it —“ he says as all the breath is ripped from his lungs. You had stood up at this point, turning around as you line up his cock with your puffy folds.

You sit down on him, wasting no time before bottoming out entirely. The stretch was so extreme, but you were much too desperate for him to fill you up. You hear Toji let out a desperate whine, not expecting you to take all of him so quickly. He was so pent up from all the teasing and all he wanted to do was to fuck into your sweet cunt with reckless abandon.

“G-God, yeesss, you’re so good for me, ma’am,” he says as obediently as he could.

You slowly draw your hips up before you slam back down, giggling at how cute Toji sounded when he was this pussydrunk. One taste of your cunt and he was already whimpering for you and obeying your every command.

“That’s it, you’re a quick learner, aren’t ya, daddy?” You ask. You knew Toji loved when you called him that, which is why you saved using it for special occasions such as these. You continue to fuck back into him, grinding on his lap as you moan so sinfully for him. All that can be heard is the lewd plap! plap! plap! of your skin meeting his as he whimpers underneath you.

Toji could tell your legs were getting tired as your pace became more sloppy.

“F-Fuck, baby, so so close,” you whine out, trying to fuck yourself through your high before your legs give out.

This would be the perfect opportunity to escape. With one final tug of the ropes around his wrist, he feels his hand set free. He bucks his hips into you, quickly removing the other hand from its confines.

“Yeah, is my baby gonna cum all over my cock like the cockslut she is? Huh? I asked you a question, bitch,” he spits out.

Did you hear him correctly? Did he forget how this game was supposed to go? You were debating pulling off of him entirely until you feel —

A hand?

Toji grabs a fistful of your hair before he yanks you back into him, wrapping the other around your waist before he is pounding into your sopping cunt at lightning speed. The ropes you bound were only held together by the knot at his wrist and two at his feet, so the rest of the ropes fell off of him with ease. You had no clue how he escaped and quite frankly, you didn’t care.

“Gotta get better at tyin’ those ropes, doll. Coulda’ got out a while ago, but I like watchin’ you struggle to cum,” he says casually, like he’s not brutally fucking you through your long awaited orgasm.

“That’s it, take this fuckin’ dick, doll. Lemme feel that pussy suck me in like she does so well,” he says, fully talking you through it as you release all you have onto him.

Before you can even come down from your high, Toji is literally spinning you around on his dick before he’s standing the both of you up. His legs are still bound to the chair, so it takes him a minute to find his balance. But once he does, he is absolutely abusing your filthy cunt as he fucks you in the air. Two big hands glued to your ass cheeks as he moves your whole body on top of him, not leaving any inch of his cock uncovered with your slick.

“Been teasin’ me so fuckin’ much, brat, gonna make me cum too soon.”

Your arms are tight around Toji’s neck as he absolutely ruins you, nothing but choked moans leaving your lips.

“Not my f-fault you can’t last old m-man,” you stutter, all power behind your words lost as soon as that knot came undone.

All he can say is a loud, “fuck you,” before he’s bullying into your precious cunt with a ferocity you’ve never seen before. You warn him that you’re so close to tipping over the edge.

“Nah, babydoll. Little brats don’t get to finish. Yer’ gonna’ take this fuckin’ load like the cumslut you are and you’re gonna fuckin’ like it,” he says as he’s fucking into you with a harsh final thrust before he empties his thick load into your tight, wet heat. His cum shoots out so fast, he’s moaning into your neck with each rope that comes out.

He’s all but collapsing back into the chair with you still on top of him, earning a low moan from you as the position pushes his seed even further into your womb. You start to pull off of him to go get a towel before he’s grabbing a wad of your hair and slamming you back down onto his cock for the nth time that night.

“No ma’am. We’re jus’ gettin’ started, hah.”

@theobsidianempress @scorpiosugar @voloslobotomyservice @lostsoul526 @shhreya @placxdbaby @iminurwallsgege @slvttyplum @tojiluhbit @leeisyourmom

[lilacwants]

million dollar man.

18+ notes: my sweet, flawed english man:’). summary: billy butcher finds solace and deepens his bond with you during a tender, intimate night after a rough day. warnings: soft billy, mature content, oral (f! receiving). discretion is advised. word count: 1.7k

part 2.

You knew Butcher had a temper, a way of seeing red that could make anyone in their right mind stay clear of his path. But it was different with you. He had a soft spot, a rare vulnerability that he guarded jealously from the rest of the world. But tonight, he was late. And that wasn’t like him.

The clock on the wall ticked louder as the minutes dragged on. You tried to focus on the book in your lap, but your mind kept wandering back to Butcher. The scars that crisscrossed his back, the shadows that darkened his eyes, the rare smiles that lit up his face. He was complicated, infuriating, but he was also the man you’d come to care for more deeply than you’d ever thought possible.

The door creaked open and you snapped your head up. Butcher stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dim light from the hallway. He looked exhausted, his shoulders slumped and his usually sharp eyes dulled by fatigue.

“Hey,” you said softly, closing your book and standing up.

“Hey, love,” he replied, his voice rough around the edges. He stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him, and you noticed the blood staining his shirt.

“Jesus, Billy, you’re hurt,” you exclaimed, rushing over to him. He waved you off, but you could see the pain etched on his face.

“Just a scratch,” he muttered, but you weren’t convinced. You guided him to the couch, making him sit down while you went to fetch the first aid kit.

When you returned, Butcher had already started to unbutton his shirt, revealing a nasty gash on his side. You winced at the sight, but kept your expression neutral. He didn’t need pity; he needed someone who could help.

“Hold still,” you said, kneeling beside him and carefully cleaning the wound. He hissed through his teeth but didn’t flinch away.

“Bloody hell, that stings,” he grumbled.

“Well, maybe next time don’t pick fights with people twice your size,” you teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. He snorted, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Can’t help it. It’s in me nature.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah, well, your nature’s going to get you killed one of these days.”

“Not if you keep patchin’ me up,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. There was a sincerity in his gaze that took you by surprise. You finished bandaging him up and sat back, feeling the weight of his stare.

“Why do you do it?” he asked suddenly. “Why do you stay?”

The question caught you off guard. You’d asked yourself the same thing many times, especially on nights like these when the danger seemed too close. But the answer was always the same.

“Because I care about you,” you said simply. “And because I know there’s more to you than what everyone else sees.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “I’m not a good man, love. I’ve done things…”

“We’ve all done things,” you interrupted gently. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve a chance to be better.”

He didn’t respond, but you could see the internal struggle playing out on his face. You reached out, taking his hand in yours, and squeezed it gently.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Billy. Let me help.”

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m scared,” he admitted in a whisper, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

“Of what?” you asked softly.

“Of losing you. Of letting you in and then watching you walk away.”

Your heart ached at his words. You knew he’d been hurt before, that he carried more scars on the inside than the ones that marred his skin. But you also knew that he was worth the risk.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. “Not as long as you want me here.”

He looked up, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deceit. Finding none, he nodded slowly. “I want you here. More than anything.”

You smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. He kissed you back, his grip on your hand tightening as if afraid you might slip away.

The apartment was quiet, the only sound the gentle hum of the refrigerator and the distant traffic outside. Butcher and you had spent the evening wrapped up in each other, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten as you enjoyed a rare moment of peace. The bandage on his side was a stark reminder of the dangers he faced daily, but tonight, you wanted to focus on the here and now.

Butcher's hands roamed your back, his touch firm yet tender as he pulled you closer on the couch. You could feel the heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingers. His lips brushed against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and intoxicating.

You smiled, threading your fingers through his dark hair. "You're not so bad yourself, Butcher."

He chuckled, the sound low and gravelly, vibrating against your throat. "Not sure what I did to deserve you, love."

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," you teased, tilting your head to capture his lips in a soft kiss. The kiss deepened, growing more urgent as he pressed you back against the cushions. His hands slipped under your shirt, caressing your sides with a possessive tenderness that made your heart race.

"Let me show you how much I need you," he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

Before you could respond, he was lifting your shirt over your head, his eyes darkening with hunger as he took in the sight of you.

"Billy," you breathed, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as he trailed kisses down your chest, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin. He paused at the waistband of your pants, his gaze locking with yours.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice softer now, laced with an unexpected vulnerability.

"Yes," you replied, your voice trembling with anticipation. "Please."

With a growl of approval, he undid your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear in one swift motion. You were left exposed before him, your skin tingling with the cool air and the intensity of his gaze.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he murmured, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread them apart. He lowered himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh.

You gasped at the sensation, your fingers tangling in his hair as he trailed kisses closer to your core. The first touch of his tongue against your folds sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your back arching off the couch.

"Billy," you moaned, your voice barely more than a whisper. He groaned in response, his hands holding your hips steady as he delved deeper, his tongue swirling around your clit with a skill that left you breathless.

He took his time, alternating between gentle licks and firm sucks, his eyes watching your every reaction. You could feel the tension building inside you, the pleasure mounting with every flick of his tongue. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please, don't stop," you begged, your fingers tightening in his hair as you teetered on the brink of release. He growled against you, the vibrations sending a shockwave of pleasure through you that pushed you over the edge.

Your orgasm crashed over you, your body convulsing with the intensity of it. Butcher didn't stop, his tongue continuing its relentless assault as he milked every last drop of pleasure from you. You cried out his name, your vision blurring as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

Finally, when you could take no more, he pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. He crawled up your body, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left you breathless all over again.

"You taste fucking amazing," he growled against your mouth, his hands cradling your face as he kissed you deeply. You could taste yourself on his lips, the intimate act only heightening your desire for him.

"I need you, Billy," you whispered, your voice raw with need. "I need all of you."

He didn't need any more encouragement. In one fluid motion, he was shedding his clothes, his body pressing against yours as he settled between your legs. You could feel the heat of him, the hard length of his cock pressing against your entrance.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rough with restraint. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm sure," you replied, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. "I want you. All of you."

With a groan, he entered you, the sensation overwhelming as he filled you completely.

You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as he began to move, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

He set a steady rhythm, his movements growing more urgent as he lost himself in you. You met him thrust for thrust, your bodies moving together in harmony.

The world outside ceased to exist, the only thing that mattered was the connection between you, the unspoken promises and the love that bound you together.

As you neared the edge once more, you felt him falter, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered your name. With a final, shuddering thrust, you both tumbled over the edge together, your cries of pleasure mingling in the stillness of the night.

Afterward, you lay tangled in each other's arms, the sweat cooling on your skin as you caught your breath. Butcher pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hold on you gentle but unyielding.

"I love you," he murmured, the words carrying a weight that made your heart swell.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice filled with a certainty that left no room for doubt.

In that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would always be his side. He was your million dollar man after all.

[mitskicain]

navi | m.list

. ⁺ . ✦ batter up! — ken sato x reader

© mitskicain all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

Synopsis: kenji might have just striked out, both figuratively and literally.

Content warning: angst, graphic mentions of blood and injury, mentions of cigarettes and nicotine withdrawal, depictions of hospital settings, brief mentions of death, cursing and profanity

Word count: 1.2k

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001: battered and bruised

It’s game day at Tokyo Dome, the Yomiura Giants vs Hanshin Tigers. The Giants are down by several points and there’s only like fifteen minutes left in the game. They might be fucked, you heard they’ve been on the skids, but you couldn’t care less—sat on the back bench near the exit, your leg has been bouncing restlessly for the last half hour. You’re practically itching for a cigarette. You didn’t get to have any on the way to work today and haven’t been able to sneak any in between breaks, so the taste in your mouth is sour.

You lean back and close your eyes, trying to ignore the feeling. Fuck this, I’ve got to quit, you mentally remark to yourself. The thing about quitting though was you never did. You always say you tried, or got better—but you never really stopped. You couldn’t leave things alone, let anything stay dead and buried. This applied to both cigarettes and your dead family. You groaned and put a towel over your face, trying to block out the harsh stadium lights, when all of the sudden, you hear it.

Thwack!

But something’s wrong. You’ve heard the sound of baseball bat hitting ball before, and the eruptive cheer that followed, but this one was different. The crowd isn’t clapping or cheering—they’re gasping in concern. And the sound of the hit sounded more like hitting bone.

Horrified, you rip the towel off your face and run up against the barrier, trying to catch sight of what's happening, and you see it. A player’s on the ground and their teammates are huddling over them, concerned. You grab your medic bag and the towel you threw on the ground, jump right over the barrier and come running towards them.

“Kenji, are you okay?” One of the players murmur. You’re squatting down and getting a look at the injury, shooting an incredulous glare at the teammate. Dumbass question, you mutter under your breath.

The helmet that Kenji is wearing is broken, like split in two. Like, Jesus fuck these baseball players are strong, but then again, maybe that should be less of a surprise because when you were still in the states, the scoreboard would display the speed of the pitches and you swore one time you saw it go up to 98 mph. So yeah, taking one on the noggin like Sato did has got to hurt.

Speaking of, Kenji’s sprawled on the floor like a crushed bug—arms outstretched and blood pooling out of his forehead. For a moment, the image of your dead brother flashes in your mind and you grimace, but you push aside the thought and decide that this time, you won’t be as helpless. You run your fingers through the front of his bangs, parting the hair to expose the ripped flesh and bit of scalp peeking through. It’s not good. Immediately, you buzz medic for a stretcher and some backup, and also tell them to have an ambulance on the way.

In the meantime, you tell his teammates to give him space and press a towel onto the wound, trying to control the bleeding. You lean downwards, your ear against his mouth, and feel and hear his shallow breaths hitting your skin. You shiver a little. Your eyes watch the bilateral rise and fall of his chest. You press your other hand onto the side of his neck, feeling for a pulse. You sigh in relief when you feel it throb underneath your fingers.

That’s good, you thought. He’s stable at least.

You check for other indications. Racoon eyes, battle signs, or cerebrospinal fluid leaking out his nose. All negative. Good. You carefully palpate the side of his skull where the tear is. No crepitations. Good. His teammates keep eyeing you throughout the entirety, and you periodically shoot glares like: leave me alone man, I’m doing my job. But you know if you were in their position you’d stare too. Anyone would. It’s hard to look away from a car crash. You would know.

After what seems like forever, the stretcher gets here and hoists him away into the ambulance. You fill the paramedics onto what’s happened: your findings, how bad he is. They thank you and before you can run off to grab your bag, they drag you into the ambulance with them. Next thing you know, you’re stuck for the next several hours in the ER—monitors beeping and code blues going off. You bury your face into your hands, and sit in the guest chair next to the unconscious Kenji Sato, aching for just a drag of your camel purples.

This is hell, you thought to yourself. I’m in hell.

You leave multiple missed calls to your boss and other colleagues. Why the hell were you the only one here? Where was his manager? Or his teammates? And why wasn’t anyone bringing you your bag that you left in the stadium? You groan painfully, knowing you’ll have to beg the closing manager to let you in to get your things.

Doctors and nurses come in periodically to get his vitals and monitor him. They inform you that he needed some stitches, and gotten a mild concussion. They say that he’ll need to take the month off. You wince at this information, not wanting to be the one who has to tell Kenji that. The best and worst thing about being a sports medic are the athletes, but they can be such dicks about it. Sato was no exception. One time, you watched him almost tear into your senior after they told him that he needed to sit the game out after sustaining a shoulder injury. You had to break up the fight and got punched in your right jaw when you did. It was swollen for a week, you recalled. You shook your head at the thought of what he would do if you told him he couldn’t play for a month or more.

He might actually kill me, you thought. He’s going to kill me and use my organs to play ball.

The clock strikes 9PM, three whole hours after the whole fiasco and still no one is to be seen. You’re honestly surprised at how successful the hospital has been at keeping the reporters away. You think you might’ve seen one of the nurses tackle a man with a camera (who actually just turned out to the husband of a patient about to give birth). Your throat is dry and the sensation in your mouth is almost unbearable. You’re shaking all over, unable to keep still.

So when Kenji finally stirs from sleep, the first thing he sees is your disgruntled and annoyed expression. Arms crossed against your chest, face twisted into a scowl—it’s a terrifying sight to see after you’ve just woken up out of a sort of coma. Honestly, he might have mistaken you for the devil for a bit.

“Where am I?” He asks, still disoriented from anesthetics. “What happened?”

You tower over him, and his eyes grow wide from genuine fear.

“You owe me a cigarette break.” You sneer, and storm out, leaving Kenji in the dust.

prev | next

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author’s note: fun fact: I’m actually a certified first aid officer so all the medical info in this chapter is true!! I followed the guidelines for what to do when treating an injured unconscious person hehe 🤭🤭 also can I just say WOWWWW thank you for all the hype the series has received so far !!!! honestly after ultraman, ultrafine, ultramine I thought you guys might’ve been done, but glad to see y’all are still thirsty for more 🫦🫦 ++ put too much effort into making the titles of each chapter 😩 hopefully you’ll get the references to baseball terms, anyways, stay tuned for more!! you’ll be fighting a lot with kenji in the next one 😏😏😏

taglist: @witcwitchy @sassy-cat-in-town @miffysoo @fcklxnaa @azryaa @crispchocolates @spencerrxids @simp-hub @puppyminnnie @t4naiis @moonjellyfishie @mf-rockstar

[deanstead]

Marry That Girl

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: no

Word Count: 600+

Tags/Warnings: none

A/N: Short one because I haven't released something for Jay in way too long! This has been sitting in my WIP drafts for the longest time so I finally got it written! An anon requested something similar for Will but since I had a half-written fic, I finished this and posting this instead! As always thanks to bestie @seatsbythepit for being my beta queen~!

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

You hadn’t thought this through.

It sounded like an innocent enough date when Jay had asked if you wanted to go watch the game. You hadn't been dating for long, and every day felt a little unreal in a ‘I can’t believe Jay Halstead wants to go out with me’ kind of way, and you appreciated every opportunity you got to spend with Jay especially since you never knew if he would have to go undercover or spend nights at the district trying to clear a case.

But now that the game was approaching, you were in a bit of a panic.

You enjoyed watching a game, but you didn’t always know what you were watching or doing, and you weren’t sure you were ready to let Jay see that side of you.

“Y/N, everything okay?” Kelly’s voice interrupted your internalized panic and you glanced up.

“Ah, I should have thought of you!” You proclaimed, earning yourself an eyebrow raise from the squad lieutenant. “I need your help.”

Kelly raised an eyebrow but chuckled before nodding toward his office.

You thanked all the stars that it was a quieter shift. After all, an entirely quiet shift didn’t exist at Firehouse 51. But at least that’s the way you liked it.

Kelly gave you a crash course, but not without reminding you that you owed him one. You spent the rest of the downtime studying it so that at least you’d have something smart to say, even though there were a few times you wondered what the hell you were doing.

Hard work indeed paid off.

You walked out of the game, feeling a little embarrassed as Jay’s friends gushed over you.

“Jay, you got a good one. My girlfriend doesn’t even want to come to games with me.” One of his buddies quipped.

Jay laughed, putting an arm around you and grinning. “Hey, should I be worried? What if you guys just call her for the games instead?”

The laughter rumbled through the group as they all nodded, teasing Jay that they’d rather call you instead of him in the future.

You really did owe Kelly one.

As his friends dispersed, calling that Jay had better bring you out for the next game, Jay’s phone rang.

You nodded at him, telling him he’d better take it, assuring him that you and Will wouldn’t leave him behind.

Jay took the call from Voight, glancing toward where you and Will were talking as he nodded. “Yeah, I got it. I’ll be right in.”

Jay could feel the dread in his gut, that felt just a little too much like guilt that he had to blow off again tonight even though he’d promised a nice after-game dinner and maybe some drinks and cuddling.

“This is why you don’t promise anything, Jay.” He mumbled to himself, before he walked back toward the both of you.

“Hey, Y/N, I…”

You glanced at the look on Jay’s face and just smiled. “Gotcha.”

“Sorry.” Jay couldn’t even say anything more because everything else in his head sounded like an excuse.

“I’m not saying I’m not disappointed, because I kinda am. But I get it. And if these were bells going off for the ambulance, I’d do the same thing you’re doing now. So, go.” You paused. “But you owe me a mind-blowing date.”

Jay laughed and nodded. “That, I definitely do.”

You shot him a huge smile and headed off toward Jay’s truck to wait because you knew he’d at least take you home before heading back down to wherever he was supposed to go.

Will watched the exchange with a mix of amusement and awe before he glanced at his younger brother.

“Jay?” Will called, before Jay and him headed off in different directions.

Jay glanced up at Will and Will smiled. “You better marry that girl.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

Old School Love | AU

summary: You've been dating Harry for a short time, and he's finally ready to get something off his chest.

word count: 2.1k

read time: 9 min

content warning ⚠️: vampire!harry, fluff, mentions of blood

a/n: reading twilight at such a young age did a number on my frontal lobe...

“That’s not funny Harry.” You chuckle nervously, waiting for him to crack. To let you in on the joke, but he doesn’t. He just looks at you clearing his throat. “Come on. I mean - There’s no way.” you stutter. “You’re joking.” 

Harry shakes his head slowly, reaching for your hand he brings your palm, under his hoodie, to rest over his heart. 

“Feel.” he says quietly, looking into your eyes deeply. This is the best way he figures he can confirm it for you, and it’s the closest he’s ever allowed you to be to him. You’ve held hands, but anything more than that or quick pecks, has always been out of the question. “I just need time.” Harry had said. It was a boundary you respected as you had only been seeing each other for a short time. Harry’s version of intimacy was different than anything you’d experienced before, a huge change of pace from all the men eager to jump in bed with you of the recent past. But what you were ‘missing’ in physical intimacy, Harry made sure to make up for with emotional intimacy. You never felt like you were missing anything. 

But now, with your hand on his chest, being so close to him in his apartment for the first time, and with what he’d just revealed. It’s starting to make sense. You press your hand harder into his chest, searching for it, but you're shocked at what you feel. Or rather don’t feel. 

A heartbeat. 

Not even a slow one, there was nothing. His skin felt warm enough to the touch, maybe a little below average. But you had always chucked it up to him running cold, like you. Anemic perhaps. But there was no mistaking the fact that there wasn't a steady heartbeat where there should be.

You stare at where your hand is beneath his hoodie, eyebrows furrowed. “Say something.” Harry pleads. 

“You’re serious.” your voice is even, but Harry can hear the racing rhythm of your heartbeat, and the shallowness of your breathing. He waits for you to scream, run, something. Instead,  you pull your hands into your lap, leaning back into his couch, tucking a leg under you. . 

“Afraid so,” he says, with a sad smile, “I know it’s unbelievable…for you, but -”  

“You're a vampire.” you whisper, looking up at him. The word feels different rolling off your tongue now more than it ever has. You’ve read books, and seen movies. It was one of your favorite genres. Fantasy. 

But this wasn’t fantasy, this was real. And you didn’t have the words, and your mind was reeling. You had so many questions. 

“Yeah.” Harry confirms. Harry had never told anyone, but he supposes this is as good of a reaction as he could get, and knowing that your first instinct wasn’t to run made him feel more validated in his feelings for you. In his reasoning for telling you. This is the right decision he thought. “I’ve never - really said it. Outloud after all these years.” 

“Why me?” you ask, “I mean, why are you telling me?” 

“Because I care about you. Quite a lot actually.”A vampire ‘perk’ as he begrudgingly called it. Heightened emotion. “I know so much about you but I feel like I’ve been lying to you this whole time. I don’t want to do that anymore.” 

“I see.” you contemplate. You nibble on your bottom lip. 

“Are you disgusted by me now? Or,” he takes a deep breath, chewing on his own lip, “scared?”

At the utterance of the word, you look back over to him reaching for his hands, holding one of his in both of your much smaller, and warmer ones. 

“No!” you rush out, “No Harry, I’m not scared or disgusted, just trying to wrap my head around it all. You’re still you, right? I mean there’s nothing you’ve lied to me about? Besides the obvious.” you ask and he shakes his head. 

“No. Nothing. I’ve been honest the entire time, just kept a few things safe.” 

“Well then we’re okay.” You’re sure you’re still in shock, but your knee jerk reaction wasn’t to run or call Harry crazy. And while you questioned what that said about you, it only made Harry feel even more safe around you than he already did. Safer than he has in decades. There were sure to be things that came up, that you’d need to work through, you two were fully aware, but for now…everything was going to be okay. 

“A lot is making sense now.” you say, moving closer to him on the small loveseat. 

“Like what?” 

“Well you’re a little…old fashioned Harry. Which I love and appreciate but - it’s just different than what I’m used to.” You giggle, and he smiles, nodding his head in agreement, “Can I ask you a question though, well a few,maybe?” 

He leans forward, and you don’t pull away, instead you lean closer too, crossing your legs under you. “Of course, anything. Ask me as many questions as you want. I’m an open book!” Harry urges, earnestly. 

“How old are you?” 

“I’m ninety-three technically. Been like this for only sixty-three years though.” 

“Oh.” you say tilting your head to the side, “That's young, right?  For a vampire?” you clarify and Harry chuckles. “I mean, I know my references are just books and movies but - usually their all so-” 

“Old?” Harry laughs, “You worried about dating an old man?” 

“Wha- No! Not at all I just -” 

“It’s okay, Love.” he laughs, “Yes, I’m pretty young still. I’m what we call a Young Blood. Having been…this way for less than 100 years. There were laws made a while back, way before I was ‘born’, about creating more vampires, but laws aren’t always followed, so here I am.” 

There is something in the way he spoke, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Sadness, or maybe anger? Regardless you chose not to pry, instead making a mental note to ask about Vampire Law at a later date. 

“So are you on your own, or are there more of…you?” 

“Like I said, I’m a Young Blood so other vampires tend to be weary of me and younger vampires like me. They think we are reckless…gonna tell the world about our existence.” He smirks, “But I’m not alone, entirely. I’ve got a small group of friends. Most of them are much older than I am, they’re just kind of spread out all over. My friend Oliver lives a few hours away. I see him every now and then.”  

“Your secret is safe with me.” 

“I know. I trust you.” he smiles, “You know, I’ve been on my own for a while and I was going to head back home to England since it’s been long enough. But then I met you, and decided to stay stateside a bit longer.”

 You smile, remembering the memory of the first day you had met Harry. It was a rainy, chilly day. You were having the worst day. Having forgotten your umbrella, wanting to get out of the house for just a moment to write, when Harry ever the gentleman opened the door for you to your favorite cafe. A brief interaction, that turned into the two of you chatting, and ended with an invitation to dinner later in the week. It was a bold move for Harry, talking to anyone let alone someone he thought was as beautiful as you. But there was something about you that made him have to get to know you. And now, months later, here you are. And you both couldn’t be happier. 

“I’m glad you decided to stay.” 

“Me too. Is this too weird now?” he says rubbing the back of his neck, eyes cast down. That makes you chuckle, and it’s music to Harry’s ears. 

“My boyfriend just told me he's a vampire after I admitted to my embarrassing Twilight phase, it’s a little weird, Harry.” You chuckle.

“I saw an opportunity and took it.” he smiles, “It’s just been driving me crazy, not having you know. Not being able to be close to you.” he stops, bringing your hand to his lips, “Physically I mean. I know your a cuddler and it has killed me not being able to hold you, but I was scared you’d notice,”

“The lack of heartbeat.”

 “Yeah.” He sighs, “I figured I could explain away the body temperature, but that’s kind of hard to explain.”

 “Is that also why you’ve not kissed me yet?” You ask with a smirk. 

“We kiss.” Harry defends, and you chuckle. 

“You know what I mean. All I get are little pecks! And I love them, I do. I’ll take any affection your comfortable giving me, but” 

“You want more.”  He finishes.

 “Yeah.” You say cheeks are warming up. “I like when you kiss me, and if you're comfortable with it, I’d really enjoy a make out session every now and then.” Saying it out loud made you feel a little silly, and yes maybe a little childish. “So how much of it is your old fashioned ways, and how much is it, the other thing.” 

If Harry were being honest, he’d been keeping you at arms length, which is part of the reason why he’s decided to let you in on who he really was. And now that you knew, nothing was really stopping him from being more physical with you. Nothing besides his new fear of scaring you off. 

“Less about me being old fashioned.” He confesses, “I want to be closer to you too. And I’d love to make out with you,” he smirks, before looking down again, “but sometimes when vampires get…close to someone in that way, our um…fangs pop. And I just-” 

“Can I see?” 

“What?”

 “Your fangs. Can I see them?” You ask, and Harry’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, because you're completely serious. “I’m not running, Harry. I wanna learn everything I can about you. I'm curious.” You smile. 

“Okay.” Harry sighs. He opens his mouth, lifting his lip just a little, and baring his teeth. You watch as a set of prominent and pointy fangs protrude from his gums. You try to keep your reaction minimal to not embarrass him. You do a decent job, but Harry can hear your heartbeat pick up. Without much thought you reach your hand up, caressing his cold cheek. You rub your thumb over the apples of his cheeks a second, turning your head to the side examining his face, and fangs. Before you have time to stop yourself, you reach up slowly with your other hand touching his left fang, feeling just how sharp it is. 

“Wow.” You whisper, pulling your hands in your lap. Harry retracts his fangs, and closes his mouth, feeling the worst is over.  

“Yeah.” 

“Does it hurt? When you pop them?” 

“Not at all. They hurt when they first came through. And it was hard to keep them from showing for a while but you get used to them.” 

“Can I ask you a question that may be…sensitive?” 

“Of course.” 

“Are you um…a vegetarian .” 

This is it, Harry thinks. This is when you get too scared, and this is when you run. “No.” He confesses slowly, “No, I’m not. But I don’t hurt people. I live on blood bags I get from the hospital. I used to drink from humans. Just enough to get full, and then send them on their way, but I haven’t since I met you.” 

“Why?” 

Harry took a moment, trying to think of the best way to explain it. “Feeding from someone is quite intimate. It’s not quite like sex for me but…I just didn’t feel right doing it, when I have a girlfriend. So I just use the bags now.”  

“You can feed from me. I mean, if you want.” You say nervously, and Harry smiles. 

“I appreciate that Love. But baby steps, yeah?” He smiles. 

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” 

Harry reaches for your hand pulling you into his lap, “Come here.” You settle placing your hand on his shoulders, resting your forehead on his, “I’m so happy with you. Haven’t been this happy in decades. Thank you.” 

You kiss him softly, “For what?” 

“Not running away. Or calling me crazy. For accepting me, but mainly for making me happy.” 

“You make me happy too.” 

“Good.” Harry smiles, placing a quick peck to your cheek. 

“I have a lot more questions that I intend on asking you, but I already have a lot to process. So can we make out now?” You ask, and Harry squeezes you closer to him, throwing his head back with a laugh. 

“Well since you’ve asked so nicely.” He smiles, pressing your lips to his in a much awaited deep warm kiss. 

a/n: i know there are other things that i have queued that i should be posting but....i'm a sucker for a vampire story! and this idea popped in my head and i just had to. you can def expect more from this universe/more vampire!harry in general haha

✨masterlist✨ ∣ ✨yap & request box✨

[rottingworship]

The smut prompts 72 and 80 ☝️😈

Withhhhh

Hoodie😳

MWAAH THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST!! This is actually longer than most prompts i've ever written ever omg... I got carried away... may write a part 2 involving tim :3

As always, prompts are from here! Divider is from sister-lucifer

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!, fingering, innocent!reader, hint at corruption kink sorta (?), praise, finger sucking, F!Reader

Prompts: "There is no way anyone is that innocent." "What? Does that feel good?"

“There is no way anyone is that innocent.” Brian switches through the channels on the TV.

Tim shrugs, really not caring. “Ya never know.”

“She’s a killer.” Brian huffs. “We are all killers.”

“Not all killers fuck.” Tim rolls his eyes. “If it’s that big of a deal, why don’t you ask her?” Tim has had enough. He gets up and walks to his room. Brian is thinking about it. About how sweetly you interact with them. How oblivious you are to some of their jokes. The look on your face when some of them click.

The door opening brings him out of his thoughts. You walk into your home with a large smile on your face and a small bag of groceries in your hand. You tell Brian ‘hi’ and walk to the kitchen. His eyes don’t leave you.

You turn back around and your eyes meet his. “You alright, love?”

Brain tenses. Love… It’s what you have always called him and Tim both. There never seems to be any ‘love’ behind the word. But Brian wishes for there to be. He’s sure you're just being nice and friendly. You always have been. Somehow, you stay so loving…

“Yeah.” He stands up from the couch and begins to walk towards you. You don’t think anything of it. You put some of the groceries up and begin to walk past him. Brian stops you in your tracks, his hand grabbing your bicep. The way look up at him leaves him reeling. Brian holds you there. Without saying a word.

“You good?” Your brows furrow, but you don’t pull away. Your eyes show no sign of fear of him hurting you, but they do show extreme confusion.

“Is this an act?”

His question causes you to pout. “What? Is what an act?” You really don’t get it.

“You’re so-” Brian sighs. “Nevermind. I gotta go.” He is overwhelmed. It doesn’t take a lot for you to realize that. Brian is quick to leave your home. You try to get that interaction out of your head and finish putting up groceries. As you walk to the bathroom to finish putting things away, you remember Tim’s home. You walk to his room and knock.

“Hey, it’s me.” As soon as he gives you the okay, you open the door. “Is Brian okay?” It’s the first thing you ask. Tim looks at you and groans.

“What’d he do?”

“He asked if I was acting,” It comes out more like a question than anything, “and then, he just- He left.”

Tim snorts, trying to not smile. “He’s fine. Probably relieving some stress right now.”

“What’s he stressed about?” You cock your head at him.

“You.” It’s all he gives you. You are sent into a spiral. Your face contorts with confusion and you gasp. You stumble on your words, stuttering something out, before Tim saves you. “It’s not bad, he thinks about you too much though.”

“Too much!?” You are dumbfounded. “How much is the normal amount?”

“Probably the amount that I think about you.”

You cannot catch a break. You let out a groan and close Tim’s door, leaving him alone. You have no more questions for him. You want to call Brian and ask if he’s alright, but you aren’t sure it’s Brian that will answer. You sigh and go to your room. You already took care of your business (or the operator’s), bought groceries, and put them up. It is time for you to relax. And now you can’t.

You walk to your bathroom and decide to shower. You have had a long day, and maybe the hot water will help relax you. As you shower, all you can think about is Brian; his questions and whatever the fuck Tim meant about him. You cannot lie, Brian is always plaguing your mind. Even more so now. Does he like me? You think as you wash your body. Does he fucking hate my guts? You begin to stress. If he hates me, that would suck, we kinda have to work together for the foreseeable future. You want to explode. You finish up your shower quicker than normal and decide you cannot be in your room. You get dressed and head to the living room. You lay down on your couch and sigh. You flip through the channels and land on some corny horror movie. You keep it there.

Before you know it, you are dozing off. You wake up to the door of your house opening. You sit up and rub your eyes. “Who- Brian?” You make out his frame, and then his hood and mask. “Oh, it’s just you, Hoodie.” You lie back down on the couch and close your eyes. You have not interacted with Hoodie as much as you have Brian, but you still trust him.

“Wake up.”

The way he says it has you sitting up immediately. You look at him with wide eyes and your mouth is slightly agape. “What the fuck?” Your legs swing over the side of the couch and Hoodie sits down beside you. “Is this about earlier? Because I’m still confused.”

“You really are oblivious… You know that?” You cannot figure out his emotions. You can’t tell if he’s smiling or annoyed, and it’s bothering you. “You’ve got Brian wrapped around your finger, and you are completely oblivious.” Hoodie doesn’t move. You scoot down the couch, confused by the suddenness of everything. “I see what he sees in you, though.”

“What?” You sound groggy still. “What does he see?”

Hoodie scoots closer. You freeze, swallowing hard. “You’re an angel.” Hoodie says it as if you should be aware of that already.

“I assure you,” You put a hand up, “I am no angel.” Something clicks. Your face contorts again, changing from confusion to an awareness. Awareness of everything Hoodie is saying. “Is this about not understanding some of the jokes I hear? Because, I’ve never been around guys a lot-” You look away from him, embarrassed. “I was pretty sheltered until I turned eighteen. And, y’know, moved away. I’ve never really had many friends-”

“It’s not an act…” Hoodie sounds so primal suddenly. It causes chills to run down your spine. The hair on your neck is standing on end. You swallow hard and let out an awkward laugh. You can’t look at him. “It’s okay,” He coos.

“I think about you- Uh Brian, a lot…” You twiddle your fingers, biting the inside of your lip, “I don’t know- I can’t begin to tell you-” You can’t see his face, but he looks absolutely animalistic. You blink a couple times, collecting your thoughts. “Can you kiss me?” Your voice is hushed, barely above a whisper.

Hoodie does not hesitate. He lifts up his mask, just enough to reveal his mouth and moves towards you. His hands cup your face and he smiles as soon as his lips meet yours. You relax into his touch. Your mind is going a mile a minute. When his tongue gently runs across your bottom lip, you eagerly open your mouth for him.

Without missing a beat, as Hoodie shoves his tongue in your mouth, he effortlessly moves you onto his lap. You let out a gasp and your arms wrap around his neck. You are positively melting into his touch.

Hoodie pulls away and begins to trail kisses down your throat. Your brain is fuzzy and you can’t think straight. You let a quiet moan and Hoodie smirks against your skin. “Sh,” He hushes you, “don’t need Tim hearing us.”

You nod and try to keep quiet. Before you know it, your position is being switched. You are lying on your back on the couch and Hoodie is above you, he’s watching you. You can’t see his eyes, but you can see his smirk. You let out a whine and your thighs rub together. “Please,” You whine, “I need-” You cannot verbalize what you need.

“Use your words,” He leans down and begins to kiss your neck again, licking and nipping the sensitive skin.

“I need you to touch me!” You are frustrated. “Make me feel good, please!” You are begging at this point.

Brian laughs. His smile widens and laughs. Your face is burning up and you want to hide again. “It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs into your skin. “I can do that.”

Hoodie is resting on his arm, keeping his weight from being completely on you. His opposite hand begins to trail towards your shirt and straight towards the elastic of your pajama pants. His hand dips down and he begins to rub you through your panties. Your hips eagerly roll into his touch and Hoodie gently bites down on your neck.

“So impatient,” He hums into your ear.

“Please!” You are still trying to keep quiet. “Need you-”

Hoodie doesn’t falter. His fingers pull down your pajama pants and your underwear. He palms you, and you roll into him again. A little more violently this time. Hoodie slides one finger into you at first. His lips are still attached to your throat. Your breathing is becoming heavy and loud. Hoodie’s finger moves slowly, painfully slow at first. You buck into him and let out a soft whimper.

“Hm,” Hoodie hums into your skin. “I’m sure your own fingers aren’t this good, huh?” He is cocky. You shake your head, quickly. You cannot form words. You are left a mess under him. “What? Does that feel good?” He knows the answer to that. You nod. “I’m gonna add another, okay?” He sits up to watch your reaction.

Another finger pushes into you and a white, hot fire is lit in your core. Your eyes screw shut as his fingers slowly pump in and out of you, his thumbs grazing over your clit. You feel like you're in a tunnel. You can hear him commenting about how good you are, but you cannot respond. Your mouth falls agape and you are trying to form a sentence to beg for more.

“Faster,” You mumble, “please, faster!”

“Anything for you,” He coos at you.

He picks up the pace and you are writhing in pleasure underneath him. Every single time his fingers pull from you, your hips follow them. You need him.

“Close-” The word stumbles from your tongue, “so close.” Your toes curl. You are going to burst. Your body tenses and your eyes shut tight. Your nails dig into Hoodie’s back, clawing at the fabric. His pace, steady but quick, does not slow. He keeps going. No signs of stopping anytime soon.

You pull Hoodie to you, letting out a loud whimper. His name falling from your lips like a mantra. You are seeing stars as his thumb rubs your clit a little faster. A louder cry is pulled from you this time. Everything comes undone so fast. Hoodie is in your ear, mumbling to you how good you’ve been, how you deserve this, and kissing the shell of your ear.

Hoodie lowers himself on top of you as you come down from your high. His fingers pull from you and shoves them into his own mouth. He sucks on them. You feel yourself getting even more wet.

The door down the hall opens. “What the fuck?”

You hide yourself immediately. Hoodie laughs. “I told you to be quieter.”

[worldofkuro]

So, you do headcanons imagines, stuff like that... Yeah? Can you do one of Alastor, Blitz & maybe Lucifer where someone they care for (S/O or daughter) who has borderline is having a emotional breakdown? Or a splitting episode? I have borderline & I'm not having a good day...

I’m sorry I answered it so late, my dear. I won’t lie, I don’t really do other characters than Alastor, because I think I handle his persona quite well ( I won’t sugarcoat him,dear. So his scenarios can be…rough.). I had to do more research on Lucifer and Blitzø. I hope it will still be good for you.

Alastor: 

Alastor would pity you. How weak of you to be controlled by your emotions, be stronger he doesn’t someone  weak.

He would watch you as you broke down, grinning while spinning his microphone. Your tears were a beautiful spectacle but he was getting tired of it, he needed you to do an errand for him and he was busy being annoyed by you, so you had to go.

He would tap your head, asking for your attention in a silent way. He always hated when you were more concerned about yourself than him. How narcissistic could you be!

When you looked at him, he would smile at you like usual, telling you were making a show of yourself. He couldn’t have that right? He was the star in this hotel !

He would easily calm you down… Well, it’s not calming you down. He would use words that would stun you so hard you would freeze. He would use your insecurities against you to make you feel even more bad than you were feeling but then he would say how amazing he is to keep you by his side even when you were in that state.

You wouldn’t want him to get bored of you, right? So you should cheer up, and give him a big smile! 

In your weakened mind, Alastor’s words sounded like comforting words while it was only condescending manipulation.

In the end, you would go do your errand as Alastor waved you goodbye with a mocking smile.

You were so easy.

“ And don’t forget dear, you are never fully dressed without a smile!”

Blitzø:

Shit, shit shit shit shit !

He would be so lost! He didn’t know how to handle those kinds of emotions, that’s why he ran away from them. He was hesitating between screaming at you to stop being a pussy and hug you.

But it was you… And seeing you in that state really..moved something in him.

He always despited himself, he always pushed away people’s care for him because he knew he would lose their love soon enough. He knew it, he was unlovable. He wasn’t deserving of people caring for him. That he knew.

But when he heard you say those words, the same he thought about himself… He despite it.

He would put you on his knees, his tail wrapping around your ankle and wait for you to calm down. He really was clueless, the only thing he wanted was for you to feel him even when you were lost in this storm of emotion.

Once you began to come back to your senses, he would ask you why you were feeling like that. That might sound stupid, but if you managed to talk about how you were feeling it would help him understand himself better.

He would hug you stronger as you kept stalking. He was just a useless imp… But you didn’t have the right to feel like this, you were better, you were… out of reach. And yet you broke down in his arms.

He would find a solution in sex, I won’t lie. It’s something, bad or good, he used to ground himself, so he might ask if you were in the mood. Maybe that way, you would be able to see how much he cared without him saying it.

“ We’re fine.”

Lucifer:

He would run toward you, maybe crashing against his pile of ducks. He would approach his hand toward your shoulder before taking them back. Did you want to be touched?

Between Alastor, Blitoø and Lucifer, he was the one more capable to understand what you were going through. Sometimes he would feel overweight by the hotness of Hell, wishing for nothing more than to feel the cold air of heaven between his wings.

He knew how feelings could be stronger than oneself, so he would kneeled at your side, and enveloping you in his wings.

He would have his back turned on you and his wings would cover you, making you feel safe, like you were cut from the world you were living in.

Lucifer would sing you a lullaby, a song that he used to sing to Charlie when she was a baby. He would stop when you form would have stopped shaking and you whimper quieted down.

He would turn his head toward you, waiting for you to speak first. If you decided to stay silent, not asking him to sing again, you would stay in a comfortable silence.

He would sometimes wiggle his wings if you touched his feather, wishing to hear your laughter. That’s the least he could do.

He would feel at fault for your conditions, were you like this because you were a sinner? Because he decided to give free will to humans, you had to suffer like this? Your episode would sometimes trigger his own mood drop.

That’s why, when you both were feeling down or you could feel an episode coming and you needed each other, Lucifer would wrap you in his wings, his back turned on you and you would stroke his father from your fingertips.

This was your way of saying, for the both of you.

“ I’m here.”

[semperamans]

Benny x reader who’s clingy when shes tired or sleepy <3 Throws her whole body onto him to fall asleep like she wants to burrow into him

this… turned into something??? for my johnny x reader x benny anon, this one is also for you… whoops!

at the table with the wives and girlfriends you’ve talked yourself hoarse and now that you’re actually quiet you grow drowsy in a matter of minutes. your eyelids feel weighted; so heavy that they’re fluttering like butterfly wings. “m’gonna find benny,” you say, pressing kisses on cheeks and haphazard hugs around shoulders. of course, benny is never too far away. you spot him quickly, his form so easy to identify despite the cigarette haze of the clubhouse. sat at a table with johnny, benny’s got his legs spread, one arm thrown over the back of his chair while the other lazily hangs between his legs. he looks so cool and not at all like it’s 3:15 in the morning. your shuffling feet pull his attention away and when he lays eyes on you a big ole smile spreads across his lips. “hey, sleepyhead.” you give him a smile, it’s a tiny blossom, too tired to bloom and benny knows just what you need. he stubs his cigarette out, smoke curling out of his nose as he exhales and opens his arms to you. “c’mere, sweet girl.” johnny watches the interaction; the way you fold yourself into benny’s lap, legs dangling over the chair arm as benny practically cradles you like a baby. one of his hands loosely curl atop your hip while the other anchors itself using your, well, his own shirt. johnny wishes he had danny’s camera. he wishes he could capture this moment for you all and, yeah, maybe a little for himself because it’s too sweet and at the end of the day he really loves love. it drips off the two of you, the affection you feel for one another. johnny wishes he could bottle it, drink it, feel it for himself, but that’s a conversation for another day. that’s a thought he’ll kick himself over later. now benny’s got his chin on your head and is looking at johnny like he knows what he’s thinking, but he doesn’t. no, johnny is positive benny has no fuckin’ idea what’s going on in his mind because those things shouldn’t be there. he shouldn’t want to be the one holding benny while benny holds you. no fuckin’ way. “m’sorry for interrupting.” you murmur, tired eyes on johnny. “s’no trouble.” is what johnny says, but fuck isn’t it? “just sleep, baby.” benny tells you. “i’ve got you.” “jus’ like being close to you,” you mumble with no regard for proper cadence. your speech is molasses, gooey and sticky. “like knowin you and johnny are here.” and jesus christ johnny almost falls out of his fucking chair. you’re a sweetheart who loves everyone and this probably means nothing, definitely doesn’t mean what johnny wishes it would mean and he’s a man, not a fucking school boy with a crush, so he’s able to maintain his always cool composure, but he’s cracking cracking cracking and benny smiles, fucking smiles, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “always gonna be here.” he says, blue eyes flicking up, meeting johnny’s almost as if he’s expecting something. anything. “that’s right.” johnny manages to say, knocking back half his bottle of beer in one swig. his lips are wet. “we’ve got you. always got you.”

yeah, johnny doesn’t see himself getting over this anytime soon.

[dawnrina]

(000) — the collaboration.

YOU ARE READING: INTO MY WEB!

WARNINGS: NONE.

Taein sat in her usual spot in the cafeteria, staring at her sketchbook. Her mind wandered as she doodled absentmindedly in the margins. The bell had just rung, signaling the start of lunch. Her best friends, Yunjin and Ningning, sat across from her, chatting about the latest school gossip.

“Have you heard about Spider Girl?” Ningning asked, showing her phone with a low-quality video of the heroine in action.

Taein stiffened but forced a casual smile. “Yeah, it’s all over the internet.”

"She looks amazing. I'd give anything to see the face under that mask," Ningning said, replaying the video.

“Speaking of secrets, how’s your crush on Minjeong going?” Yunjin nudged Taein with a knowing grin.

“Yunjin, keep it down!” Taein's cheeks flushed as she glanced around nervously.

“It’s not like it’s a secret. Everyone knows.” Ningning rolled her eyes.

Everyone except Minjeong, Taein thought. She closed her sketchbook, hoping her friends wouldn't notice the new addition—a meticulously drawn portrait of Kim Minjeong.

“Why did you even bring this up?” Taein asked, trying to dodge the question.

“Because you couldn’t stop looking at her in class today, and you were just drawing her,” Yunjin replied, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“You should talk to her,” Ningning said, eating some of her rice.

“I can't. I mean, what would I even say? ‘Hey Minjeong, lunch was nice, wasn't it?’” Taein reached to take one of the apple slices from Ningning's plate, earning a death glare from the Chinese girl.

“Just ask her out,” Yunjin encouraged.

“Oh Yunjin, you're one to talk.”

“Hey! My thing for Chaewon is different, okay?”

“How so?”

“She’s asked her out many times, but Chaewon just turned her down each time,” Ningning said nonchalantly, and Taein nodded in agreement.

“Right. That's why I don't ‘just ask’ Minjeong.” Taein sighed, frustration mingling with her nervousness. “I can't risk her rejecting me like that. Plus, you know what people say about her exes—she doesn't like distractions."

Ningning leaned forward, her expression annoyed. “Taein, are you really that naïve? Minjeong broke up with those jerks because they cheated on her. She's not exactly great at choosing who she dates."

“But,” Yunjin added, “maybe she just dated them for status and is secretly into weirdo artists who have a thing for capturing her in sketches.”

Taein shoved Yunjin’s arm. “Yeah, alright, Miss Rejected.”

“You never know.” Yunjin shrugged, giving her attention back to her food.

As Taein glanced across the cafeteria, where Minjeong laughed alongside her council members, she felt a pang of hopelessness. Staring at the blonde girl, Taein thought there was no way Kim Minjeong would ever spare a second glance at her.

☆ • ☆ • ☆

Taein was mindlessly painting on her canvas, feeling the beats and heartfelt vocals coursing through her headphones. She didn’t have a single thought when she was in the art club. All she did was let her hands guide her and watch the painting come to life.

Her little moment of peace was interrupted when Yunjin pulled out one of her earbuds and whispered, “Your girlfriend is here.”

Taein looked up from her canvas, confused, and saw Miss Kim Taeyeon, the club advisor, standing there. By her side were Yeji, the president of the club, and none other than Kim Minjeong. The artist almost dropped her paintbrush at the sight of the student council president standing there in all her glory. Minjeong looked serious, as always.

“Good morning, students. I'm sorry to interrupt without previous notice, but our council president here would like to make a very important announcement,” was the only thing Taein heard Miss Kim say before Minjeong began to speak.

“First of all, I apologize for interrupting your activities,” Minjeong started, her voice smooth and composed. Taein’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of her voice, and she couldn’t see Yunjin scoffing at her friend's pathetic puppy eyes. “As you all know, the annual cultural festival is coming in a few months, and the theme for this year’s festival is ‘Unity in Diversity,’ focusing on celebrating the diverse talents and backgrounds of the student body.”

The room filled with murmured noises about the theme, and Taein saw Minjeong looking around to gauge reactions. Somehow, the blonde girl’s eyes met hers for a brief moment, and Taein felt warmth spread through her entire body before Minjeong looked back at the papers in her hands.

“Are you seriously blushing over nothing?” Yunjin whispered incredulously, and Taein quickly looked down, trying to hide her face.

“That’s stupid! I’m not blushing, it’s just...” She searched for an excuse in her head. “It’s just very hot in here. When will they fix the aircon?”

Yunjin’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Should I ask our president?”

Taein’s eyes widened, and she immediately denied with her hands. “No, no, no, it’s okay. I’m totally fine. It’s not even that hot.”

“What do I do with her?” Yunjin whispered to herself, refocusing on the president.

“...and we, from the council, would like to collaborate with the art club for the preparations for the festival,” Minjeong continued.

The room erupted in louder chatter, excitement palpable among the students. Taein saw, for the first time, a small, sweet smile tugging at the corner of Minjeong’s lips. She couldn’t help but fall a little harder for the girl.

Miss Kim cleared her throat, bringing the room back to order. “Thank you, President Kim. I think this collaboration will bring out the best in all of us. Let’s work hard together to make this festival unforgettable.”

Minjeong nodded and added, “We’ll be setting up a meeting schedule soon. Please keep an eye on the bulletin board for updates. Thank you for your time.”

As Minjeong turned to leave, Yunjin nudged Taein. “This is your chance. You’ll be working with her every day.”

Taein’s mind raced. “Not happening, Yunjin. I'll probably mess up, say something wrong, and she'll think I'm a weirdo."

Seungkwan, a club member, chimed in, “You’ll never know unless you try. Plus, you’re not weird. You’re just... special.”

Boo Seungkwan was a very good friend of Yunjin and ended up being friends with you and Ningning as well. It was like having a Yunjin 2 in your life, but nobody could be worse than the original red-haired girl.

“Yeah, special,” Yunjin echoed with a teasing grin. “Just don’t paint her face on every canvas you work on, okay?”

Taein rolled her eyes. “What a great friend.”

As Minjeong exited the room, Yeji approached Taein. “Hey, Taein. Looks like you’ll be one of the leads for this project. Your artwork is amazing, and we need your creativity.”

Taein’s eyes widened. “Really? But...”

“No buts,” Yeji said firmly. “You’re perfect for this. We’ll make a great team.

Taein swallowed hard. “Yeji, I think-”

Before the artist could say anything more, the leader of the club walked out, leaving the room.

Yunjin and Seungkwan beamed at her, clearly proud. “You’ve got this, Taein,” The boy said.

As Taein glanced across the hallway later, where Minjeong laughed alongside her council members, she felt a mix of nerves and excitement. There was no way Kim Minjeong would ever spare a second glance at her, she thought. But maybe, just maybe, this festival was her chance to prove herself—and to get closer to the girl she admired from afar.

[nerdieforpedro]

Movie Night with Steven

Steven Grant x female reader

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Summary: What a movie night with Steven might look like.

Warnings: fluff, Nerdie's bad humor (I gave it to Steven), innuendo and hands as always.

Word Count: 433

Notes: A Drabble I wrote trying to work out exactly how I would write Steven Grant. Likely to change, but I thought this was cute.

Main Masterlist/ Oscar Issac Masterlist/ Moon Knight Masterlist

“Love, you’re coming over and we’re going to eat chips, drink tea and watch The Little Shop of Horrors. It will knock your knickers off!” 

“Wait, what Steven?”

“I mean you’ll enjoy the movie.”

You wonder while watching the movie with him and cuddling. You and Steven have watched tv together before so being close on the couch with your shoulder touching his isn’t insane. 

Tonight seems different though.

Your knickers have not been knocked off. But they’re not safe either.

“Are you having a good time?”

“Yeah, the movie’s great.” Steven squeezes your knee and points at the screen.

“Look! This shows up a few times it means….” Steven is explaining but you’re not listening. His hand is still on your knee and your mouth is a bit dry. Your knickers are the opposite. The movie is only 20 minutes in, he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing. More to the point, why are you reacting so strongly? He’s your friend. Your sweet, bookish, curly haired, full lips and strong hands…friend! Steven is your friend!

“Huh? Darling, what do you mean you don’t know?” His pitch at the end of the question went up, is he mocking you? He’s gotta know that it sounds like he’s mocking you.

“I…need to let it marinate and then I can tell you.” A very poor excuse but the only one you can offer that is a full sentence.

“No, no, no. These things are best done when the movie is fresh in your mind, love.” Holds your hand this time and leans in but is still 8-10 cm away from your face. “Is there a reason you weren’t paying attention? You weren’t bored were you? I wanted you to relax and have a good time with me.”

You did have a good time. Just not really watching the movie. More watching Steven. Reaching, pointing, explaining, being expressive and touching you the ENTIRE TIME. What else were you supposed to focus on? “No, I did have a good time Steven. I just think…maybe I didn’t get all of what the movie presented.” You can’t look him in the face. You feel a bit ashamed that he did get snacks and things for you to enjoy but you just thought of…other things. He just had to mention knickers…

“That’s alright. We can watch it again another time. Maybe you’re tired. Or maybe you had something else on your mind, love?” The moment Steven’s lips touch the back of your hand when he brings it up to your face, you know that all he did was on purpose.

Moots who would also like to be movie buddies with Steven 🍿: @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @softlyspector @saturn-rings-writes

@alltheglitterandtheroar @thepetitemandalorian @westside-rot @rosecentaur1916

[eeechooo]

She Gets Me

Fandom : Lockwood & Co

Pairing : Reader x George Karim

Request : @thestrangerblog

George has a pen pal (Reader) with whom he feels a deep connection, sharing similar interests and ways of thinking. They decide to finally meet in person for a casual picnic. As George gets ready in his usual casual clothes, Lockwood and Holly question his outfit, suggesting he should dress to impress. George firmly replies, "That’s how I am. Take it or leave it."

You’d been counting down the days. After months of exchanging letters filled with theories about ghostly phenomena, discussions on obscure historical facts, and shared frustrations about the peacock types in your respective fields, you were finally going to meet George in person. The picnic was your idea—a casual, no-pressure setting where you could both be yourselves. You had carefully chosen a spot in the park, a place with a mix of sun and shade, where the two of you could talk for hours without interruption.

Meanwhile, at 35 Portland Row, George was in his room, staring at his open wardrobe. He rifled through his clothes, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Should he go for something a bit more polished? Maybe a shirt without holes? No, he decided, shaking his head. He pulled out his favourite band T-shirt, one that had seen countless adventures and cases. It was soft, comfortable, and familiar—much like how he hoped the meeting with you would feel. He paired it with his trusty worn jeans, the ones that fit just right.

As he glanced at himself in the mirror, he ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to tame it but ultimately giving up. It sprang back to its usual dishevelled state. George nodded to himself, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. This was him, and he wanted you to meet the real George.

Downstairs, Lockwood and Holly were waiting, their curiosity barely contained. Lockwood, with his usual impeccable style, crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow as George descended the stairs.

‘You’re going like this?’ Lockwood asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and amusement.

George paused on the last step, looking down at his outfit, then back up at Lockwood. ‘Yeah, why not?’ he replied, shrugging. ‘It’s a picnic, not a gala.’

Holly, always the picture of grace and fashion, tilted her head and scanned George’s attire critically. ‘A picnic, George? Don’t you want to make a good impression?’

George rolled his eyes, feeling a mix of irritation and amusement. ‘I’m meeting someone who already knows me, Holly. They’ve read my letters, they know my thoughts. If they don’t like me for who I am, then what’s the point?’

Lockwood and Holly exchanged a glance. Lockwood’s stern expression softened slightly. ‘Just make sure you bring back some good stories,’ he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Holly sighed but smiled warmly. ‘Fine, but at least comb your hair a bit more.’

George laughed, running his fingers through his hair in a half-hearted attempt to neaten it. ‘Happy now?’ he asked with a grin.

‘Close enough,’ Holly replied with a chuckle.

As George walked out the door, he felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. He was about to meet someone who had become a significant part of his life through letters. Someone who understood his passions and frustrations. He hoped the reality would match the connection they had built on paper. Who understood him.

You arrived at the park a little early, your heart racing with anticipation. You chose a spot under a large oak tree, spreading out the picnic blanket and arranging the food with meticulous care. The sun bathed everything in a warm glow, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves above, creating a peaceful atmosphere.

As you adjusted the layout, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. You wondered if George would be the same in person as he was in his letters—thoughtful, engaging, and deeply passionate about the supernatural.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. You looked up and saw George, exactly as you had imagined him: dishevelled hair, casual clothes, and a warm, genuine smile.

‘Hey,’ he greeted, his voice as familiar as his written words.

‘George!’ you exclaimed, standing up to meet him. ‘It’s so great to finally meet you in person.’

He smiled back, a bit shyly. ‘You too.’

You both settled down on the blanket, and the initial awkwardness quickly dissolved as you began to talk. The conversation flowed naturally, just like in your letters. You discussed the latest happenings in your agencies, shared your most recent discoveries, and vented about the superficial people you had to deal with in your line of work.

‘I can’t stand those types at Rotwell,’ you said, rolling your eyes. ‘You know, the ones who think a charming smile and a nice suit make them experts.’

George laughed heartily, nodding in agreement. ‘Tell me about it. They’re more interested in networking than actual research. It’s infuriating. Holly used to work with them, the lunatic.’

You felt a deep sense of camaraderie. Here was someone who truly understood your frustrations and shared your passion for uncovering the truth about the supernatural. That's exactly what you needed and wanted.

As the afternoon wore on, George began to talk about his latest project—a discovery he had made about the origins of a particularly aggressive Type Two. His eyes lit up with excitement as he described the breakthrough, his hands animatedly sketching out the details on a napkin.

‘And the best part?’ he said, leaning in closer. ‘It ties back to an old Persian legend my grandmother used to tell me. I’ve been researching it for months, and I finally made the connection.’

You listened intently, captivated by his enthusiasm and depth of knowledge. It was clear how much he loved what he did, and it made you appreciate him even more.

As the conversation shifted, George started talking about his passion for cooking, particularly Persian dishes. He recounted stories of his grandmother’s recipes, describing the rich, aromatic flavours with a reverence that made your mouth water. You remembered him writing about it, but now you could smell the faint scent of saffron on him, making it real.

‘You’ll have to try my tahdig sometime,’ he said with a grin. ‘It’s a crispy rice dish, and I’ve perfected the recipe over the years.’

You smiled, feeling a warm connection with him. ‘I’d love that. It sounds delicious.’

The sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the park. You both fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. The fading light painted a serene picture around you, enhancing the sense of intimacy between you—a shared understanding and mutual respect that went beyond words.

George glanced at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. ‘This has been really great,’ he said quietly.

You nodded, feeling a rush of warmth. ‘It really has.’

As the sky turned shades of orange and pink, you knew that this meeting was just the beginning. There was so much more to explore together—more conversations, more shared moments, and perhaps even more Persian dishes to taste.

Back at 35 Portland Row, Lockwood and Holly were waiting eagerly for George’s return. They sat in the cosy library, Holly flipping through a book while Lockwood sipped on a cup of tea, both stealing glances at the clock every few minutes.

Finally, they heard the door open and George’s footsteps approaching. Lockwood set down his cup, his expression curious yet guarded. Holly closed her book gently, her eyes bright with anticipation.

‘Well?’ Lockwood prompted as George entered the room, a contented smile playing on his lips.

George grinned, the glow of satisfaction evident in his eyes. ‘It was amazing,’ he began, his voice filled with excitement. ‘We talked for hours. She’s exactly as I imagined—smart, funny, and so easy to talk to. We just clicked.’

Lockwood raised an eyebrow, his demeanour cautious. ‘And did you discuss any sensitive matters?’

George’s smile faltered slightly. He knew exactly what Lockwood was referring to—Joplin, the painful reminder of the dangers of revealing too much to those outside the agency. Too much, about the Problem, about him.

‘Nothing too sensitive,’ George assured him quickly, his tone earnest. ‘Just general discussions about work, our interests... you know.’

Holly’s eyes softened with understanding as she exchanged a glance with Lockwood. They both knew how cautious they had to be, especially after what happened with Pamela. Lockwood leaned forward in his chair, his expression serious yet supportive.

‘We’re glad to hear it went well,’ Lockwood said genuinely, reaching out to give George a pat on the back.

‘Yeah,’ Holly agreed, her voice gentle. ‘Sounds like you found someone who appreciates the real you.’

George nodded, feeling a sense of contentment settle over him. ‘I think I have,’ he replied softly, grateful for their concern yet eager to protect this new connection he had forged.

He knew he had to tread carefully, to not let his guard down completely. But in that moment, surrounded by his trusted friends who had become like family, George felt a rare sense of hope—that maybe, just maybe, this time things could be different.

After the first picnic with George, you returned home feeling a mixture of exhilaration and contentment. As you stepped into your shared apartment, your roommate greeted you with a knowing smile, her eyes twinkling mischievously over the rim of her teacup.

‘Well, well, well,’ she teased playfully. ‘How was your date?’

You chuckled, setting down your bag and joining her at the kitchen table. ‘It wasn’t a date,’ you clarified with a grin. ‘Just a picnic. But it was amazing. George is exactly as I imagined him—smart, funny, and so easy to talk to.’

Your roommate raised an eyebrow knowingly. ‘Sounds like a date to me,’ she quipped, taking another sip of her tea.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. ‘Okay, maybe it felt a little bit like a date,’ you admitted, feeling a blush creep into your cheeks.

She leaned forward, curiosity evident in her expression. ‘So, are you going to see him again?’

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. ‘I hope so. We really clicked.’

She grinned, setting her teacup down with a satisfied nod. ‘I’m happy for you. It’s about time you met someone who gets you.’

You felt a rush of warmth at her words. It was comforting to have someone who understood you so well, who supported your happiness without hesitation.

‘Yeah,’ you replied softly, gratitude filling your voice. ‘Me too.’

As you recounted the highlights of the picnic—George’s stories, his passion for the supernatural, and even his talent for cooking—your roommate listened attentively, sharing in your excitement and offering words of encouragement.

By the end of the conversation, you couldn't help but feel even more certain about the connection you had with George. And as you settled into bed that night, thoughts of future picnics and conversations danced through your mind, filling you with anticipation for what was to come.

Days turned into weeks, and George found himself eagerly anticipating each interaction with you. Whether it was meeting for coffee after work or exchanging late-night messages about the latest supernatural phenomena, every moment spent together deepened your connection.

Lockwood and Holly watched with cautious optimism as George navigated this new friendship. They could see how much George valued you, how your presence brought a new lightness to his demeanour. And while they remained vigilant, they couldn’t deny the genuine joy they saw in George’s eyes. After a month of bright eyes from their coworker and best friend with your name always on his lips, Lucy, Lockwood, and Holly decided that, perhaps, they could trust you.

As weeks passed, the bond between you and George continued to grow stronger. Every meeting brought new conversations, shared laughter, and a deepening understanding of each other's passions and quirks. Lockwood, Lucy, and Holly observed with cautious optimism, seeing how much joy you brought into George's life and how well you fit there, with him.

One evening, George received a rather unexpected invitation from Lockwood. ‘How about dinner at 35 Portland Row tomorrow night?’ Lockwood suggested "casually". ‘I thought it would be nice for all of us to spend some time together.’

George, surprised yet pleased, agreed. He relayed the invitation to you, and you gladly accepted, feeling both nervous and excited at the prospect of spending more time with George outside of your usual hangouts.

The next evening, you arrived at 35 Portland Row, the unfamiliar house exuding an air of mystery and warmth. You opted for a casual outfit—a comfortable jumper and jeans—but as soon as you stepped inside, Holly and Lucy greeted you with laughter.

‘Oh, you look absolutely adorable!’ Holly exclaimed, her eyes twinkling without an ounce of malice.

Lucy smiled warmly. ‘It's nice to see someone not dressed to impress for once.’

You chuckled, feeling immediately at ease with their playful banter. Lockwood appeared from the study, a gracious smile on his face as he welcomed you.

‘Welcome, please make yourself at home,’ Lockwood said, gesturing towards the dining room where the table was set for dinner.

The evening flowed smoothly as everyone settled in. Lockwood proved to be a gracious host, regaling you with stories of their recent cases and engaging you in lively discussions about supernatural phenomena. You found yourself drawn into the conversation, sharing your own insights and experiences, feeling a sense of belonging among George's friends.

During dinner, you found yourself seated next to George. He smiled warmly at you, his eyes reflecting the same joy and comfort you felt. As you talked, you realised how much you shared in common—not just your interests in the supernatural, but your values and perspectives on life itself.

‘I'm glad you're here,’ George whispered to you softly as you savoured his exquisite cooking.

‘Me too,’ you replied with a genuine smile, feeling a warmth spreading through your heart.

Lockwood and Lucy watched the interaction with subtle approval, exchanging knowing glances. After dinner, as you helped clear the table, Lockwood approached George discreetly.

‘I trust your judgment, George,’ Lockwood murmured, his voice low but earnest. ‘Both in your work and in your... friendships.’

George met Lockwood's gaze, a sense of gratitude and responsibility settling over him. ‘Thank you, Lockwood,’ he replied quietly. ‘I appreciate that.’

Lockwood nodded, his expression serious yet supportive. ‘You've both earned it,’ he added before returning to help Holly and Lucy with the dishes.

As you said your goodbyes later that evening, you felt a renewed sense of connection with George and his friends. And as you walked away from 35 Portland Row, you knew that you were becoming a part of something special, something that felt like home.

I AM SO LATE LMAODOSO HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY!!! I hope it was good, my laptop has been annoying the whole time I couldn't really get IN you know.

I love how george is just being like yes I'm gonna meet her and it's either she likes me or she can go home

I'm trying to get back to writing, the exams killed me but it's okay I'll fight back SO IF YOU WANT TO MAKE ANY REQUEST IT'S OPEN

Taglist :

@cielooci @neewtmas @35-portlandxrow

[theemporium]

Maybe Carlos plus "How do you always know exactly what I need?" "I pay attention." from Violet Fluff? 🫶🏻

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

3. "How do you always know exactly what I need?" "I pay attention."

.

You had been so wrapped up in the data sheets and graphs on your screen that you didn’t even hear the sound of footsteps approaching.

The last race had been a shit show, to put it lightly. It was a mess for various reasons between problems with the car at the start of the weekend, poor tire management and bad strategy calls that left both Ferrari cars on the outside of the points. It was a rough weekend for everyone and it meant the two weeks before the next race were spent ensuring a repeat wouldn’t happen. 

You had been working with the rest of the engineers to try and identify all the issues with both cars so the mechanics could work on fixing them before the week was up. The issue that came with that is that, in theory, the cars were fine. The numbers looked normal. But the results were showing anything but.

It was frustrating and confusing and it left everyone on edge as the next race weekend grew closer. 

Most of the team had already left for the night but you were so sure you were on the right path, that you were close to figuring something out. You told your superior you wouldn’t be much longer, maybe an hour or so. You told them there was no need for them to wait up for you. 

That had been over three hours ago. 

Now, almost every room in the building was empty minus the office you were working in. Even the lights had mostly been turned off except for the lamp on your desk that was illuminating all your work. You were frazzled and tired and annoying—but you weren’t anywhere near ready to go home yet.

“Tell me you’ve taken a break.” 

You let out a scream of surprise, heart racing in your chest as you turned to find Carlos standing a few feet from your desk with a sheepish expression on his face.

“Sorry, I thought you heard me come in.”

“No, I—fuck,” you pressed your hand against your chest, leaning back against your desk chair as you let out a long breath. “Sorry, I didn’t realise anyone else was still here.” 

“I didn’t want to leave the sim until I got a perfect lap,” he admitted as he began to close the distance between the two of you. “I saw a light still on when I walked past.” 

“You heading out?” You asked, trying to ignore the way his tousled hair made your stomach twist.

“I was,” he corrected before he placed a cup of coffee in front of you. “But I thought you could use some help.” 

You went to say ‘thanks’ as you picked up the coffee, taking a long sip only to quickly fall silent. You stared at the coffee cup, unblinking.

Carlos felt his nerves grow when you didn’t say anything else. “You know, just to get the perspective of the driver to maybe help—”

You turned to the Spaniard with an unreadable expression. “You know how I like my coffee?”

“I–” Carlos flushed but nodded. “Yeah, I do. And I know you were probably gonna stay here for another few hours so I thought it would help.” 

“How do you know exactly what I need?” You asked in a soft voice, though it was mostly rhetoric. You weren’t expecting an answer. 

“I pay attention,” Carlos replied with a soft smile. “And I also know you probably won’t be leaving for a while so–”

You watched as he grabbed a seat from the neighbouring desk, rolling it towards your desk before sitting down with a smile on his face. You raised your eyebrows but he just took a sip of his own coffee cup, determined to stay up with you.

And you found yourself not minding the company.

.

[cat-autism-wizard]

five times danny's english class learned that he was phantom (and one time he had to reveal it)

4- valerie gray

valerie was a smart girl but her rage and grudge often clouded her judgment. she knew phantom was doing so much help to humans but she still held a grudge since hes the one who ruined her dad's career and her life. after learning he was after the mayor she decided she was gonna do anything to capture phantom.

but everything changed when she saw him risking everything he had to save the little half ghost girl. he even risked his own life. valerie hated ghosts but she was not a monster. she could never hurt a human even if theyre half human. so she helped him save the little girl. maybe phantom wasnt too bad.

after they rescued the little girl and the mayor from that evil ghost plasmius both phantom and ghost girl went away. valerie was on her way before realizing she didnt check on the mayor and she went back to the lab.

she saw the mayor he was smiling like a crazy man. then she saw glowing rings on his waist. then he transformed..

no.

no no no no.

there was no way that was possible. mayor masters tranformed into plasmius. was she helping him the whole time? the stories about phantom being evil and attacking the mayor, they were all lies. valerie felt betrayed, she felt stupid. the whole time she was being tricked into thinking phantom was the enemy while the real enemy was manipulating her.

maybe she was wrong. wrong about not hurting a human. all she felt was rage. she took a deep breath. she saw what plasmius could do if she attack him now there was no way she could win. she tried her best not to be impulsive as she left the lab.

that day she learnt so much. there were half ghosts some were evil and some were just trying to survive. she was so wrong about a lot of things. she always thought ghosts were all evil but now she sees theyre just like people and phantom was one of the good ones.

"shit" she said as she let herself fall to her bed. the she started to think if whether phantom was also a half ghost. he did look like he knew the little girl in her both forms.

next day in school everything was the same. between classes star walked with her.

"girl are you okay? you seem really tired." star asked worried. she was right valerie was looking like he hasnt slept like ages. it was partially right she couldnt get much sleep from overthinking.

"yeah i am, just have something on my mind. dont worry." she smiled reassuring star that she was telling the truth. but it wasnt really convincing for star.

"i dont want to push you but i hope you know that im here for you val." star gave a small smile.

when the bell rang they went to their classes. valerie was happy to have a friend like star. she might be the only reason why she was still sane. she wished that she could talk about ghost stuffs with her.

in the class valerie noticed danny looking tired more than usual. after class valerie wanted to ask danny if he was alright but right as she was approaching him a ghost attacked the school. valerie saw danny ran for the janitor closet. 'thats by far one of the worst place you could hide' valerie thought. she had to save him before something happened but first she had to become red huntress. before she could do anything she saw phantom flying towards the ghost attacker.

'huh' she thought. phantom was pretty early which gave her some time to get danny out of that terrible 'hiding space'. she opened the janitor closet only to find nothing. danny wasnt there.

valerie started to panic. where could he be? what if something happened to him? valerie was finally gaining friends that was really her friends and not some jock who drops her the moment shes not rich. she was not gonna lose her friends because of some lousy ghost. she found a place to transform into red huntress and searched the whole building but there was no trace of him.

it was only when the attack was done and phantom souped the ghost she could see danny again. she took her suit off somewhere safe and rushed to danny.

"danny where were you?" she asked worry apperant in her voice. danny was taken aback a little.

"i was hiding from the ghost." he said. that was a lie, she knew it but danny said it way too calmly.

"in the janitor closet?" valerie asked not believing the boy.

"yeah it was the closest place i could hide." he said absentmindedly. if valerie didnt check the janitor closet herself she might have believed him which irritated her more than anything. she sighed in an attempt to calm herself down or at least to seem calm.

"im glad youre safe." she left them without they get to say anything more. she had to think to make things make sense.

danny lied to her. which was annoying but all valerie could think was how natural he sounded. danny couldnt lie to save his life, she would know. when he doesnt have his homework he couldnt make up a single lie nor can he tell them without looking like hes gonna shit himself. no, danny fenton was a lot of things but being a good liar was not one of them. it only indicates that he told that lie before so many time. it was a practiced lie.

but why? why would he lie about a hiding place? what was he hiding from valerie? where did he go when he was not in the closet? and more importantly how did he go elsewhere?

valerie was sure she did not look at somewhere long enough and far enough for her to not to notice danny leaving the closet. if there wasnt a secret passage in the closet or danny didnt suddenly gain ghost powers it would be impossible for danny to go out without valerie seeing him.

wait.

no no it was stupid, there was no way.

there was no way that danny out of all people was a half ghost. everyone knew he always hid away the first when there was a ghost attack because he was scared and danny only knew ghost stuff because his parents were ghost hunters. no other reasons. it was just a coincidence that he looked like that half ghost girl. or that he was always close to the places that attacks happen. or that he only comes out when the attack is fully done. or that phantom uses a thermos that looks exactly like his thermos thats written 'fenton' on it.

oh ancients.

oh ancients.

danny was phantom. how could valerie be so blind. of course he was. it was as obvious as the sun in the sky. she couldnt believe she couldnt see it before. to be fair she didnt know half ghost existed. but still it was obvious.

she cursed herself in her mind she also cursed danny because danny phantom? really? he couldnt find a better name? at least to his credit it took valerie so much to figure it out but it was still a dead give away. but she also cursed danny because why didnt he tell her? she couldve hurt him real bad.

valerie sighed and tried to think how can she help him. and how to compensate all the times she hurt him.

1 2 3 4 5 +1

[xhfics]

threesome with jungsu and jiseok… 🫣

Dinna, bestie. I'm 100% using the things you wrote in your reply to my ask for this🤭

Note: 18+ minors dni!! Jiseok x Reader x Jungsu. Contains semi-public sex, slight handjob & fingering, threesome (no m x m), protected and unprotected sex, slight degradation and overstimulation (jiseok to reader), light choking??? Help Jiseok gets a little possessive🤷🏻‍♀️ cameo from Gunil and Seungmin

The video of you and Jiseok had been send to the group chat, and he had collected the money from his friends . But none of them were mad at the way the bet played out. In fact, they were surprised and impressed by it.

There was only one person who was slightly... let down by the fact he wasn't able to win the bet himself. Jungsu.

"You're still up for the gym session, right?" You ask him, a few days after the video had been seen by the group of friends.

You're all at Jiseok's place, chilling after a few rounds of tennis matches. The guys aren't shy to talk to you, they never were. But Jiseok's definitely more... possessive over you now that his friends have seen his girlfriend naked.

He doesn't regret making the video, and neither do you. He's glad he's now able to finally show you off to everyone. The looks and glances of his friends make him a little jealous, but part of him also kind of likes it that his friends find you hot. He's extremely proud that your his, and he's yours.

You sit on your boyfriend's lap, both of you facing Jungsu. Whose slightly red cheeks are very obvious.

"You really meant that?" He says, trying to sound like he doesn't care. "You wanna work out with me?"

You lean back against Jiseok's chest, and he wraps his arm around your waist. You nod. "Yeah of course!"

"I'm coming too though." Jiseok says, more so to Jungsu than to you. "She doesn't know how to hold back and I don't want her to overuse her ankle."

You chuckle, knowing why Jiseok is saying this. The two of you had a brief talking after filming the little clip; he had asked you if you really, truly thought Jungsu was cute. And if you really, truly would have had sex with him if you weren't with Jiseok.

You had said yes to both questions. To which Jiseok suggested you should do it if you had the chance and Jungsu wanted it too.

~

"Did you really have to wear the least amount of clothes possible for this?" Jiseok says, lacing his fingers with yours as the two of you enter the gym building.

Apart from Jungsu, who's waiting for you two, it's empty. It's a semi-private gym, owned by the parents of one of Jiseok's friends, who train important people and celebrities here. The whole friend group is welcome to come and go whenever they feel like it, including you.

You chuckle at your boyfriend's comment. "I wanna look cute for you."

"And Jungsu." Jiseok adds with a sigh.

You halt just before the entrance of the gym and turn to face Jiseok. "Babe if you don't want this, I won't do it. You know that, right?"

He presses a firm kiss on your lips. "I know. I don't mind it. It's just that I don't know if I'll be able to keep my thoughts to myself."

"Well." You smile at him, taking his hand and guiding it to your hip. He rests it there, right on the waistband of your gym shorts. They're tight and short, and show your ass in all the right ways. "You can always join in."

He bites his lower lip at the thought and pulls you closer to kiss you. His hands slide to your ass, firmly gripping it and pulling you even closer to him.

"You should go work out with Jungsu." He then says, his lips still slightly on yours. "The quicker you're done, the quicker I, or maybe we, can fuck you."

The moment you walk into the gym, Jungsu is already working out. You have to be honest to yourself; he looks extra hot when he works out.

"You don't really have any intention of actually working out, do you?" Jungsu asks 15 minutes after you've started your 'workout'.

"Mh, how so?" You ask, putting your dumbbells down on the floor and walking up to him. Jiseok's keeping an eye on you via the mirror.

Jungsu chuckles and puts down his weights as well. "You're half-assing it. And you're not focused on it at all."

You shrug a little. "I'm focused. Very focused. Just on you instead of my workout."

A soft chuckle from Jiseok is heard by the both of you, and Jungsu turns to face him. "Is she always like this?"

Jiseok nods, not saying anything. He makes it clear with his casual behavior that he doesn't mind this at all.

Jungsu smirks softly as he turns back to face you. "Anything I can help you with?"

You briefly touch his upper arm, and slightly tilt your head in a playful way. "Be honest with me, Jungsu. Were you disappointed you didn't win the bet?"

He gulps and quickly eyes Jiseok, who's now walking up to the both of you.

"You can say it." Jiseok scoffs amused. "Everyone noticed it anyway."

"Okay, yeah I was disappointed." Jungsu mumbles, keeping his eyes on you. You notice his gaze going down to your chest slightly, the quickly back up again.

"You know..." you say, brushing Jungsu's blonde bangs out of his eyes. They're slightly wet from his sweat. "Jiseok and I have been talking. And if you want, you can fuck me."

"But only right now." Jiseok adds, sliding his arm around your waist. "And I'm making sure you're being good to her."

You're lucky the gym is empty, because Jungsu is barely able to keep his cool. You knew he wanted to, but you didn't expect him to be this eager.

"Anything that's a no?" Jungsu asks the moment the three of you are in the changing rooms.

Jiseok finds a smaller room with a lock and beckons you and Jungsu.

"Condom stays on." Your boyfriend says, handing Jungsu one of his condoms that he grabbed out of his gym bag. "Other than that, anything goes."

You already feel yourself getting extremely aroused by the situation. Seeing Jiseok like this, letting you get fucked by one of his friends, just makes it all way hotter.

Jungsu looks at you to ask you the same question.

You position yourself on a bench in the room and shake your head. "Whatever you want."

As soon as you say those words, Jungsu crashes his lips on yours for a rough kiss. His hands immediately on your chest, grabbing hold of your boobs. It makes you chuckle how needy he is.

The two of you quickly get up and Jungsu guides you to lean against the wall of the small room.

Jiseok's eyes widen, both because he's surprised his friend immediately has his hands on his girlfriend and of how much he likes seeing you like that.

You quickly eye Jiseok, gauging if he's still okay with it. Which he definitely is, so you take it a step further and pull away from Jungsu's hungry kisses to push down your flimsy fitness top, taking along the sports bra with it. You're too eager for this to properly take everything off.

Jungsu looks for a second and sighs happily. "Fuck, I need you so badly."

As soon as his hands are back on your breasts and his lips on your neck, you tug his shorts down and start palming is obviously hard dick over his boxers.

Jungsu bites the skin of your shoulder as the sensation of your hand on his clothes cock gives him chills.

You slip your hand in his boxers and start jerking him off slowly. You occasionally look at your boyfriend, who's eyes are glued to what's happening in front of him. You know he's hard and horny, and you know he wants in. But not yet.

"I think we should fuck." You say to Jungsu, as you slide your thumb over his leaking tip. You bring your thumb to your mouth and lick off the precum.

Jungsu is at a loss for words and just does what his dicks wants him to do; roll on the condom and undress you further.

He slides his fingers through your folds quickly. You're slightly embarrassed that you're already this wet. Jungsu presses his body closer against yours as he pushes himself into you.

The softest but most satisfied moan escapes your lips as he fills you up right away. You feel a pair of lips on yours, Jiseok's.

You look at him, while Jungsu's thrusting into you, and your boyfriend seems to enjoy it all a little too much maybe.

His eyes get a bit dark, lustful, and he speaks with a low voice. "You're taking him so well, like a proper slut. My slut."

You bite your lip to suppress a moan, and wrap your arm around Jungsu more tightly. He lifts one of your legs up slightly, so he can really fuck into you.

"I need to cum." He pants, quickening his pace. He face is close, and you know he likes being kissed. So you press your lips on his and make out with him some more.

He's getting a little sloppy, his lips are just touching yours without really kissing you anymore.

"Jungsu, don't worry about me." You mumble against his mouth. "You can use me to cum."

He grips the flesh of you ass hard and squeezes as he spills himself into the condom. He lets out a satisfied moan into your mouth and it makes you even more wet than you already were.

Jungsu gives you a quick and firm kiss before slipping out of you.

You barely have any time to catch your breath, because your boyfriend already has his hands on you as soon as Jungsu takes a step back.

"You're definitely not done babe." Jiseok says to you with a low voice. His hand immediately slides down your folds and into you. "Oh he fucked you well, you're soaking."

You shiver as his fingers enter you. Jungsu has stretched you out nicely and Jiseok easily slips three fingers in.

He kisses you, roughly and with tongue. He keeps his fingers inside of you, pumping them slowly in and out as you fumble with his pants and push them down.

Jiseok takes his fingers out your dripping hole and lines himself up with you, when the sound of a door opening makes the three of you freeze in the small room.

You quickly take a look at Jungsu, who just got himself cleaned up as best as he can. His cheeks are red, his hair sticks to his forehead and he's nervous about the situation.

"God that video was hot." You hear someone say. You recognize the voice of one of Jiseok's friends, Gunil.

"Yeah, he's a lucky guy." Another voice, that you know is Seungmin's, says.

You hear rumblings from the guys as they're changing into their workout clothes. You lock eyes with Jiseok and you see that he's up to something.

He gives you a feathery light kiss and places his hand over your mouth. There's a split second where he raises his eyebrow ever so slightly, as to check if you're okay with this.

You give him the slightest nod and pushes his cock deep inside you. He bites his lower lip, suppressing any sound that he wants to make. And you grab onto his upper arm firmly.

If it weren't for his hand covering your mouth, you would have let him know how good it feels to have him in you right now.

Jiseok bites down on your shoulder, slowly but surely moving in and out of you. The tension of his friends being in the same room, where you just fucked Jungsu as well as fucking Jiseok right at this moment, is making you lose your mind.

You could cum right here and now. But you won't, because you want more.

Jungsu is eyeing the both of you up and down, and you notice he's getting aroused again. You wish you could help him again, but Jiseok only allowed you one time with him.

The two men in the changing room take their sweet time getting changed and ready for their workout, and it's getting more difficult for you to keep quiet. Jiseok's getting a little sloppy as well and his hand leaves your mouth for just a second.

A soft pant escapes from your lips as Jiseok slowly pulls out of you and slides back in again. You freeze, but Jiseok doesn't seem to care anymore.

It sounds like his friends didn't notice anything and you hear them leave the room. Immediately you feel your boyfriend's hand slide to your neck and he applies some gentle pressure on it, still making your breath get stuck in your throat.

"Should have been quiet, princess." He says, caressing the front of your throat with his thumb. "Gonna have to punish you for that."

"Jiseok.." you pant, louder than you meant to.

Your boyfriend's hand slides to your chest, possessively groping your boobs as he fucks into you like it's going to be his last time.

"Jungsu, I need you to shut her up." Jiseok says, breathing heavily as he gives you a firm kiss on your open mouth. "She's being too fucking loud."

You kinda forgot you weren't alone in this spacious stall for a second, your eyes either shut closed from pleasure or looking at your boyfriend as he fucks you well.

Jungsu swallows hard, he doesn't want to interfere with anything. But Jiseok grabs his wrist and pulls him closer to the two of you.

You grab onto Jiseok's arm firmly as Jungsu kisses you. Your nails dig into Jiseok's bare skin, making him get closer to his high.

His hand leaves your chest and starts to rub circles on your clit, right when you're already coating his cock with your cum.

You moan into Jungsu's mouth. The hand that was gripping Jiseok's arm, slides around his shoulders and you pull him closer to you. Your other hand is tangled in Jungsu's workout top.

"Jiseok.. baby.." you whine against Jungsu's lips, as Jiseok's still rubbing you through your orgasm; overstimulating you.

Jiseok is getting close, you know he is. But instead of releasing himself into you, he pulls out and covers your workout top that's scrunched around your waist.

Jungsu quickly takes a step back and lets out a soft chuckle. He seems to enjoy all of it.

"What the fuck babe?" You ask, your voice still trembling from the overstimulation.

"Should have kept quiet when my friends where here." Your boyfriend says with a cocky smirk. He kisses you roughly before speaking again. "You're gonna go to the other changing room through the gym, and you're gonna say hi to them."

[laughroditee]

Your Ghost | Part 3 - Three of Swords

Pairing: Simon Riley x female OC x Johnny MacTavish (as a ghost) Content Warnings: SMUT, minor injury, foul language, grief, reference to alcohol abuse, reference to attempted self-waterboarding, implied attempted self-harm, depression, despair, survivor’s guilt, implied suicidal ideation (no details), consensual possession, unprotected piv sex (pls use protection irl), MMF threesome (sort of?), mildly dubious consent (I tried to lessen this as much as possible), angst, crying, angst/comfort, heartbreak, emotional sex, butchering of the Scottish language. Word Count: 5.1k

18+ for smut. MDNI!

Part 1 // Previous Part // A03

Mood music:

Simon’s eyes widened, and he dropped me like I burned him, my ass hitting the floor hard enough that I knew I would be dealing with the pain for a while.  He took several steps backward, staring at me in disbelief.

Shifting the weight off of my bruised bum, I whimpered, cursing under my breath.

”Ye alright, lass?”  Johnny knelt by me, ghost hands hovering around my arms as if he wanted to help me up.

“Yeah,” I said.  “Guess I won’t be sending anyone any butt pictures for a while.”

“If ye can make jokes, you’ll be just fine.”  Despite saying that, he still looked worried.  “He’s not usually like this, Evangeline, I promise ye.”

I nodded.  While I believed him, it didn’t make the situation easy to stomach.  “I get it, he’s grieving.  Or more like actively avoiding it,” I muttered.  My eyes flicked up to the man in question where he stood, still half naked and covered in scars, with that wild skull mask on his face, his eyes wide.

Johnny put his hand on my shoulder and spoke through me again.  Being used like a ventriloquist dummy felt slightly like vomiting, though marginally less unpleasant.  Still, compulsion felt very weird.  “Simon, this is Evangeline, my li’l American kinswoman.  Take care of ‘er, yeah?”  

Even though I could only see the skin around Simon’s eyes, it visibly paled.

Johnny was having too much fun to cede control of my vocals just yet, though.  “Och, yer lookin’ a wee bit peely wally, love.  Maybe ye should stop fuckin’ drownin’ yerself in drink, ya bawbag!”

“This is fuckin’ mad,” Simon said, sinking onto the sofa and staring at us.  Rather, at me specifically, since Johnny was a ghost and couldn’t be seen by anyone but me for whatever reason.  How lucky.  Simon reached up and pulled off his balaclava, revealing a dazed oval-shaped face peppered with scars and about three days' worth of stubble.  His short, sandy blonde hair went every which way on his head, fair lashes blinking absently over his dark, glassy eyes.  He looked like his world had just been turned upside down again, or maybe he was considering the possibility that he was losing his mind.  Both were valid thoughts, to be fair.

With Johnny’s hands on me, I could sense a mixture of emotions coming from him as he looked at his boyfriend, ranging from love and relief at seeing Simon’s face to worry at seeing how much the alcohol messed him up.  His emotional tone shifted back to “nag,” but before he could say anything else, I scooted away, breaking contact.

“STOP USING MY MOUTH WITHOUT MY PERMISSION TO YELL AT YOUR BOYFRIEND!”

Johnny had the nerve to roll his eyes.  “Fine, can I please borrow yer mouth to yell at my boyfriend?”

“No, it feels weird.  I'll do it for you.  Just tell me what you want to say.” He then proceeded to say a string of words that were definitely not English, and I wasn't sure I could even replicate the sounds by myself; I was never good with accents.  “You're doing that on purpose, aren't you?”

The bastard grinned. “Och, aye.  I just want a chance to use that pretty li’l mouth of yours again, hen.”

“That sounds all sorts of wrong.”

“Not wrong if everyone consents.”

“Johnny!”

“What?  At least make him tell you where he’s hidin’ his drink.  If he hasn’t pissed it all away already.”

“You are so bossy!  Was he always this bossy?”  I directed the question toward Simon, and the weird atmosphere made me forget to be afraid of him.  It was challenging to stay scared of him when he looked like a confused kid who just woke up from a nightmare.  Unfortunately for him, this nightmare was real.

“I prefer the term ‘persistent,’ lass,” Johnny said.

“Maybe we should work on getting Simon sober,” I suggested to Johnny as I pushed myself to my feet, wincing slightly.  Though I knew I’d be fine in the long run, it didn’t change the fact that I had been hauled into the air and then dropped on my ass like a sack of potatoes by a man more than a foot taller than me and probably ten times as strong.  To say I was mildly apprehensive about being here would be an understatement.  I approached the sofa warily, edging toward Simon slowly as if he were a wounded animal.  Which… the comparison wasn’t too far off.  “Can I get you some water, Simon?”

He just stared at me.

Alrighty then.  “Johnny?  Show me where the glasses are?”

“Copy that,” he said, leading the way through the kitchen and stopping before the designated cabinet.

Ignoring the feel of Simon's eyes on me, I moved through his kitchen to grab a glass.  “The floor is sticky,” I observed.  Small puddles of drying alcohol decorated the ground like forgotten watercolor paintings of amber hues.

“Had a spill,” Simon explained simply, raking a large hand over his face.

“Spill my arse,” Johnny spat.  “He was waterboarding himself.  Pouring bourbon over his fucking face with that bloody mask on.  Yer oot yer face ya twat!” he yelled at his boyfriend, though Simon couldn’t hear him.

Water filled the glass as I turned to Simon, my face horrified.  “You were waterboarding yourself?  With bourbon?”

Simon stared back at me with a suspicious, bewildered look, which may have been funny if not for the context.  The expression melted into a sullen frown; it was all I needed as confirmation.  He looked like he wanted to ask me how I knew.

“Johnny told me,” I explained without waiting for him to ask.  I came back and handed him the glass of water.  “Here.  Drink up.”

Accepting the glass numbly, Simon kept his eyes on me, examining me in a way that was downright uncomfortable for a person who doesn't like to be perceived.  I was relieved when he glanced around me, presumably trying to see his late lover.  “He’s talkin’ shite again, is he?”

I scoffed fondly.  “Isn’t he always?”

Simon grunted.

Johnny came to sit next to Simon on the sofa, leaving me to stand over them both.  “Make him drink it,” he murmured as he stared at his boyfriend.  I could feel the pain and yearning radiating off of him, and it was enough to make me turn away.

Simon was still staring at me when I looked at him again.

“He wants you to drink the water, Simon,” I said gently, gesturing to the glass in his hand.  

He dutifully drank the water, looking around the room again.  “Where…?”

“Where is he?”

Simon nodded.

“He’s next to you on the couch over here.”  I pointed to where Johnny sat beside a tartan pillow with a Scottish flag.  Johnny stared intently at him as if willing his boyfriend to be able to see him.

Simon’s eyes searched the seat, but with no hint of recognition, he didn’t know exactly where he was.

Covering his pain with a smirk, Johnny said, “Tell ‘im to stop starin’ at my cock.”

“I’d rather not tell him that, actually, thank you.”

Unfortunately, that got Simon’s attention.  “Tell me what?”

“Fucking Johnny…,” I sighed.

The mischief-maker laughed while Simon waited for me to deliver the message. 

“Fine, he said to ‘stop staring at his cock.’”

Two seconds passed before Simon let out a single, loud laugh, a startled smile on his face that said that, until this moment, he had been so sure he would never be able to smile again.  “He would say that, wouldn’t he?”  He looked back to the spot next to him with unbridled affection.  “Fuckin’ wanker.”

Johnny chuckled, the sound muted by an underlying melancholy.  It made me wish that I could do something more for him.  For both of them.  Of all the people to ask for help, Johnny had to get stuck with me.  I wondered if there were other blood ties he could have followed, maybe to a more skilled person than myself.  A love this strong had to go somewhere, right?

And then an idea took me.  It was a stupid idea, of course, and I didn't know if it would work, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt like it could be the only thing I could contribute.  Kneeling by where Johnny sat on the couch, I rested my elbow on the cushion with my hand up, almost like I was threatening to arm wrestle Simon. 

Johnny smirked.  “Afraid yer gonna be a wee bit disappointed with the results there, chum.”

I returned his smirk.  “No, I want to try something.  Put your hand here,” I told him, gesturing to my hand and wiggling my fingers.

Looking curious, Johnny obliged and played along, placing his hand on mine.  It passed right through, making him frown.

“Hmm, try thinking like you’re putting on a glove,” I suggested, not that I knew what I was doing.   

“Alright,” he said.  While Johnny concentrated a little more, I focused on opening up my hand metaphysically until I could feel his presence filling the space.  It was cold and alien — feeling someone else’s spirit inside me — and I shivered.

Pushing the physical sensation aside, I reached my other hand out to Simon.  “Your turn.”

His wary gaze had a calculating edge, which I was beginning to understand was Simon’s default mode, at least around strangers. 

“Take my hand.  I just want to try something.”  When he didn’t move, I added, “Johnny’s cooperating with me.”  I may or may not have sounded mildly tart when I said it.

Callused skin engulfed mine as Simon smothered my hand with his, and I brought it to the hand Johnny was occupying.  Next to me, Johnny’s breath caught in his throat.

“I can feel that,” he whispered, and all at once, I was filled with an overwhelming maelstrom of his emotions.  The pain of loss, the guilt over dying, the sheer yearning for life and love pouring out of him caused me to pull back, gasping, and I pushed Johnny’s spirit out of me.

Both men looked at me as I tried to catch my breath, my eyes blinking away tears.  “S-sorry…. That was a little overwhelming.”  But, my God, to be loved that much.  To be loved the way these two love each other, I could only hope to be that lucky one day.

“Ye alright?”

“What happened?”  They spoke at once, waiting for me to answer.  

“I’m alright,” I told Johnny.  Taking a deep breath, I turned to Simon and said, “I had Johnny try to possess my hand.” At his eyebrow raise, I rushed to say, “It worked though!”  Shifting so that I was sitting instead of kneeling, I leaned forward toward Simon.  “He felt you, Simon.  Johnny could feel you through my hand.”  I waited for that to sink in, watching the emotions pass through his eyes like a kaleidoscope until he had to look away.  “With his spirit touching mine, I could feel everything that Johnny felt, emotionally speaking.”  Glancing at Johnny showed me that he wasn’t surprised.  Maybe it was a two-way connection.  “Everything kind of bled together, and it was a lot all at once, so I pushed him out.”

Johnny and I watched Simon process the information. His eyes stared down at the empty hand that previously held mine, balling it into a fist and opening it again.

“Can I…?” he asked hesitantly, pointedly not looking at me.

“Can we try again?” Johnny asked, knowing what his boyfriend wanted.

“We can try again if you want.  Johnny wants to try again,” I tell Simon.

“He does?” Simon asked, finally looking at me, his eyes flicking to the empty couch cushion where he knew his boyfriend’s spirit was.

I was about to answer when Johnny asked, “And what do you want, Evangeline?” 

I looked back at him in surprise.  “What do I want?” I repeated for Simon’s sake.  “I just want to help.”

“Why?”  Simon’s low voice was guarded but curious.  “It’s hardly your business, is it?”

“You’re right, it’s not.”  I met his examining gaze with an open one of my own.  “I’m a stranger here.  I don’t know either of you or what you were like together.”  The memory of Johnny’s emotions was so fresh inside me that the thought brought a fresh wave of feeling.  “I just know that if I loved someone the way Johnny loves you… I would want to be able to tell them.  I would want that chance to say goodbye.”  My voice broke on the last word as I looked into Simon’s eyes.  “Wouldn’t you want that?”

He frowned bitterly.  “You can’t save people from their pain.”

“No, I can’t.  But maybe I can help them to face it instead of trying to drown it out with alcohol.”

Johnny blew out a long whistle next to me, but my eyes were still focused on Simon. We stared at each other, locked in a war of grimaces, our brows drawn down tight.  “Alright, ya numpties, set’le down,” he said.

That broke the staring contest.  I blinked.  “What the hell is a ‘numpty?’”

“He’s calling us idiots,” Simon informed me.

“Ah, fair.  So, are we going for round two?  We can go bigger this time.”

“Bigger?  Are ye sure ye want to do this, lass?” Johnny asked with a hint of concern.

“Yeah, I'm sure.  Go big or go home, right?  It's really the only thing I can do for you, and I want to do it.”

He smiled at that.  “Did I ever tell ye yer an angel Evangeline?”

“I’m definitely not an angel, Johnny,” I laughed awkwardly, but the sentiment warmed my heart.

Standing up, I took a deep breath.  “I'm ready, Johnny.  All aboard, let’s go.”  Holding my arms out in welcome, he got off the couch and stepped into my body, overlapping me as I stood there.  It didn’t happen right away.  Johnny was much bigger than me in life, so he had to concentrate on inhabiting a smaller space, filling my physical body as if filling up a glass or a glove and squishing in all of the extra.  Luckily, spirits are flexible and can fill any space if they put their minds to it.  

As I’d done earlier, I concentrated on relaxing and opening up my energetic walls, accepting his presence into me.  But let me just say that it was fucking weird.  Alternating waves of heat and chills rolled through my body as he settled inside me, my limbs jerking and twitching occasionally in a manner that probably looked like I needed an exorcist.  Not now, but maybe later.

And I could feel him, the essence of who and what he was.  Every emotion and emotional memory that passed through Johnny also passed through me; his warm, strong energy made me feel steady and safe.  He feels just like love.  And it was bittersweet.

“Well, isn’t she a wee bonnie thing?” Johnny said as he looked down at my body, moving my arms about, sliding my hands over my hips.  “Told you I’d lose my dick on the battlefield one day, LT,” his laugh made our blue eyes twinkle as we looked up at Simon, whose gaze was complicated.

Johnny and I both could read Simon’s confusion at seeing us this way, and our smile faded.  I didn’t know what I looked like with Johnny’s facial mannerisms showing through on my face — the particular way your eyebrows moved, your lips curled when you smirked, and your eyes squinted when you laughed or smiled.  From Simon’s pained expression, he clearly saw all this on my face.  That, through me, he could see Johnny.

“Ye see me, don’t you, love?” Johnny asked for confirmation as if he could read my thoughts.  Maybe he could.

“I see you,” Simon said quietly, his hands squeezing reflexively at his sides.  “I see you, Johnny.”

We smiled softly, relief flooding our system.  Every emotion was enhanced twofold with the two of us fully in here, and it was a challenge to keep from being overwhelmed and losing myself completely.  Johnny was aching with need, making my fingers itch to touch Simon, to feel his skin on mine — on ours.  I had to take a few cleansing breaths to separate his thoughts and compulsions from mine.  Possession is weird.  

And yet, he didn’t make a move; I could tell that Johnny wanted to give Simon time to adjust.  There was some kind of feeling — something that’s difficult to put into words — almost like trying to coax an abused animal with food and love but accepting that it will come on its own terms.  You leave the door open and wait for them to approach because you don’t want to scare them away.  That was the feeling I got as Simon looked down at us.  Conflict was written all over his face as he lifted his hand near our head, wanting to touch but afraid to.

“It’s alright, love, it’s just me,” Johnny said softly.  “There’s no rush.”

But I knew he was lying.  In the back of our shared consciousness lurked the oppressive shadow of time, and it was only running out. There was only this moment, and never again, not for Johnny, and my heart clenched in my chest.

Something passed through Simon’s eyes, and I wondered if he could pick up on his boyfriend’s bluff because his control slipped.  He trailed his fingers down our cheek to our jaw, tipping our head up and cupping our face like we were something precious.  “Johnny,” he whispered.  “It’s really you.”

We smirked at him, covering his hands with our own.  “Don’t go cryin’ on me now, LT,” Johnny said.

“It should have been me.”

I could feel Johnny’s anguish at hearing Simon’s tormented thoughts out loud, and our brows drew down.  “You hush yerself now, love.  There is no ‘should,’ there’s only what is.  Can’t go back and change anything.  Ye’ll have to keep moving forward.”

“No.”

“Yes,” Johnny insisted, and our hearts broke all together.

Simon shook his head.

“Ye have to.  I want ye to.”  We reached a hand up to his face, the stubble grating at our fingertips as we caressed his cheek.  “Let me be selfish, love.  I want ye to live.”

I could sense Simon's conflicting emotions as we stayed in skin contact.  Wanting to honor your lover’s last wishes while being condemned to what felt like a literal life sentence in the process was no easy thing to stomach.  He looked down at us with such a pained expression that it was difficult to look at him, but Johnny was far braver than I and wouldn’t look away.

“It’s because I love ye, Simon.  And I know ye can take it.”  He knows he can take the pain of existence without him, which is what he meant.  “Ye can move past it.”  Johnny's emotions roiled inside me, his yearning and desperation building to a breaking point. So much love. So much it was almost blinding.  

“Kiss me like yer missin’ me,” Johnny said suddenly, voice low and demanding, hands trailing down Simon's chest.

Simon’s pupils blew wide, and he responded to the demand with a “Fuckin’ hell” before his mouth came crashing down on ours, his large hands pulling our face close, his lips moving with bruising insistence against ours.  Johnny growled into the kiss at the same time that I gasped, and Simon took advantage of our open mouth by invading it with his tongue, desperate to taste every last inch of us.

As the kiss deepened, it felt like he wanted to devour us.  Simon became more frantic, his movements rougher, more urgent.  His hands roamed over our body, exploring every curve as if he was trying to savor the feel of us.  His hands slid down our hips and pulled us against his body, and — oh my god, he’s hard.

That was the exact moment that the careful hold on my metaphysical shields separating me from Johnny — tentative and unskilled though they were — shattered, and Johnny and I dissolved into one another, becoming a mass of hungry hands and mouths, desires and libido.  We pulled at Simon, and, without even breaking the kiss, he lifted us into his arms, our legs wrapping around his waist automatically as his hands went to our ass, squeezing the soft flesh roughly.  He inadvertently squeezed the bruise on our butt from earlier, and we hissed into the kiss, biting his bottom lip.

The responding growl that came out of Simon’s throat gave us chills.  Something low in our belly clenched, and we were instantly wet.  Backing us up against a wall, he kept us pinned with his body between our legs as he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down our neck, grazing our flesh with his teeth.  

We hummed as a shiver passed through us, and our greedy hands snaked under his shirt, sliding up his sides, relishing the feel of every inch: skin, muscles, and scars indiscriminately.  Simon pulled back from the kiss to tear his shirt off, tossing it aside before giving our shirt the same treatment.  His tongue traced the length of our collarbone before sucking the skin there, the pinpricks of pain telling us that there would be marks left behind, and we were satisfied by this.  Maybe he could make us a lovely little necklace of cherry bruises to remember this day.

The air was chill without our shirt on, and Johnny’s momentary amusement at having breasts was drowned out as Simon squeezed one of them, and we moaned, “Oh, fuck.”  We felt his lips quirk up against our skin in a smile, and then he rolled his hips against us, and we saw stars.  “Bed!” we gasped, and we didn’t need to say it twice.  Still holding onto us, Simon carried us down the hall, and we could feel his heart pounding against us.  “Tha gaol agam ort, bidh mi an-còmhnaidh. Gu bràth agus gu bràth,” we breathed against his ear, and his shoulders trembled.  I love you, I always will. Forever and always.

As he laid us down on the bed, Simon seemed to register for a moment that this was not the body he knew before, but he pressed on in curious reverence, dragging our jeans off of our legs and discarding them onto the floor.

“Let us have it, LT,” Johnny said, our voice thick with desire as we unclasped our bra and threw it somewhere in the room, spilling our naked breasts to his gaze.  “I want ye to fuck us like yer life depends on it.”  

Simon’s breath caught in his throat at our words, eyes darkening as he looked down at us splayed on the bed, hands fumbling with his belt, not moving fast enough.  He shed his pants, his cock straining against his boxers, and came to cover our body with his own.  We basked in the warmth of his skin, the prickly sensation of his chest hairs on our breasts, the satisfying weight of him as he pressed us into the mattress.  Capturing our lips again, he fed at our mouth as if it would keep him alive.  We could feel his erection pressing against our thigh, hard and insistent as he ground against us, and we purred, running our hands up his broad back.

"I’ve been missin’ you, love," he whispered hoarsely, his hands roaming over our body as he kissed us again.  His hands were everywhere — running through our hair, exploring every inch of our body. We could feel his desperation, his need for us overwhelming him, and it was a heady mix of emotions that left us breathless.  

“I know, LT,” we said, “but I’m here with ye now.”  And now was all that mattered.

Simon ran his hand lightly over the front of our panties and paused, looking at us with a questioning gaze, unable to keep the longing out of his eyes.

“Please,” we whispered as we looked up at him.  Just one last time.  Though that part remained unsaid, Simon heard it in our voice.

He hooked his thumbs into our panties, dragging them down our legs slowly, his hands trembling slightly with emotion.  Trailing a finger up our slit, he watched our face as we sighed, and he gathered the wetness there before kissing us again.  Running his tongue along our bottom lip, we opened for him, and he plundered our mouth at the same time that he plunged a finger into our pussy, making us gasp.

We moaned into his mouth as he added a second finger and started to pump them in time with our heartbeat.  Threading our fingers through his short hair, he hummed against our neck, feeling our pulse jump against his tongue as he added a third finger, preparing us to take his cock.

Our body was on fire.  We squirmed beneath him, mewling as his fingers fucked into us, consumed by the intensity of it all.  But it wasn’t what we needed.  “Simon, please,” we gasped, unable to find the words to finish our sentence.

But he knew, just like always.  Withdrawing his fingers, he spread our wetness over our folds and stripped off his underwear, settling between our legs.  Because of the size difference, we found ourselves on our sides, his body curled around us slightly, our leg draped over his hip.  He dragged the tip of his dick up our slit, coating it with our wetness before pushing forward slowly, watching our face as we took him into our slickened cunt.  

Our body stretched wide around him, and we whimpered, our fingernails making half-moons on his tattooed forearm.  He paused, gathering us close to kiss our hair and whisper sweet words into our ear until we finally relaxed enough to take more of him.  And we took every fucking inch.  Once his cock was buried inside of us, he closed his eyes, and we stayed like that for a moment.  We felt impossibly full, not just physically, but our heart felt like it would burst.  He opened his eyes, and we knew from the raw emotion on his face that he felt it, too.  So much love.  

Digging his fingers into the plush of our hip to steady us, he drew back, his shaft sliding out slightly before snapping his hips and thrusting it back in, finding a slow, firm rhythm that had us moaning as we tried — and failed — not to melt.

“Sweet bloody Jesus, LT,” we said, looping our arms around his neck.

“Praying again, Johnny?” Simon murmured, a small smile touching his lips.

“Someone has to, ye bastart.”

He kissed us, increasing his pace, fucking into us harder.  Reaching down between us, he drew circles around our clit with a gentle insistence that had our toes curling.  “Come for me, love,” he said in a low rumble that did things to us, and we could feel our pleasure building, coiling like a spring deep within us.

With every thrust, we thought, I want to stay. I want to stay. I want to stay.  But we knew we couldn't.  So we let him drink us in through his skin, and we left our imprint there, another scar among many.  It hurt to feel this good, and we closed our eyes.  We wanted him, wanted to keep him forever, but we don’t have that.  It's not fair.  He was ours, and now he has to face this alone.  We didn't want to leave him.  

“Look at me,” Simon commanded softly.  “Let me see you.”

Our eyelids fluttered open again.  One look into the dark pools of his eyes, and we were drowning, and this great and terrible love broke us, and we were undone.  The orgasm that coiled deep in our belly ripped through us, and we cried out as our pussy tightened around him.  He groaned, the sound vibrating against us as he plunged his cock deep inside one final time before spilling himself into us.

We panted together, our breaths mingling as he rested his sweaty forehead against ours and finally closed his eyes.  As our heartbeats slowed, we looked up at him, a bittersweet expression on our face.

“I love ye, Simon Riley,” Johnny said softly.  We gently caressed his face with our hands. “Always will.  Don't be an arse, and take care of yerself.  Stay alive.  I'll see ye again in the end.”  

“Johnny,” Simon said as his eyes shot open, a flash of panic moving through them as he pulled his face back.  He knew it was time to say goodbye.  “Johnny,” he said again.  I could tell he wanted to say don’t go, but you can’t stop death; Simon knew that better than anyone.  “I love you,” he said, his voice breaking as he smoothed the hair out of our face.

Johnny looked up at him through my eyes and kissed him with everything he had left. When Simon pulled back, my connection with Johnny had been severed, leaving only me behind.  

I cried out in sudden pain, the psychic wound in my soul raging and raw, feeling the empty void where Johnny had been so loud and strong only seconds before.  Tears filled my eyes and poured down my cheeks as if they would never stop.

“What is it?” Simon asked with alarm, freezing above me.

“He’s gone!” I wailed, and it was like I was split open by grief, feeling Johnny’s loss so strongly despite never knowing him in life.  Being deprived of his presence, his essence, his warmth inside me left me bereft in a way I didn’t even think was possible, and I was powerless against this onslaught of feelings.  How could I feel like this when Simon, who knew and loved Johnny, was here with the pain of time and experience?

Simon stared down at my face, his expression contorted by the anguish of this second loss.  I could feel his pain like a second skin, its heavy weight oppressive and harsh.  Tears filled his eyes, and he buried his face in the crook of my neck, his arms coming tighter around me, and we wept together, trying to coax comfort out of each other as the world broke apart around us.

Only then did I realize that the final card in my initial reading, the Three of Swords, represented the three of us sharing our grief with hearts still freshly broken—three people, one heart, and a love that bleeds.

[thecherrygod]

currently thinking about lighthouse keeper hdb and ship captain kim kitsuragi................

like.. look. hes in the lighthouse. alone. only company his skills and some alcohol to also keep himself warm in the winter. most interactions he has are the people that he gets stuff for his own survival. dora's been out of the picture for a looooooong time now, he wasnt around often, the pay isnt relayable, and every time she met him he was worse, so she left. all he has is himself, and the lighthouse.

there are times in which the light will reflect on the fog in the ocean, and he will see her in there, as if she was a guardian angel with long blonde hair who would take any ship coming nearby into her hands as toy boats, and she could decide if theyd make it to safety, or if shed just drown it on a whim. all he can do is manifest her with the lights, but her actions are her own.

and then theres kim, the diligent captain of a ship that has all the love in his heart, something he can use to move through fog and pale alike without losing himself to his surroundings, always ready to make sure him and as many as his men survive what the sea has to offer them, but he knows its dangerous, all of them do, everyone is ready to lose their lives if it comes to it. storms and tides and an inavility to see through the weather, they are all ready to manouver the ship or die trying.

thankfully at the worst times, theres always a helping hand, a guiding light helping him move in the right direction, making sure hes able to keep them as safe as possible even through the worst storms and the densest of fogs hes ever seen.