#g: like sand slipping through fingers

[baelabong]

ʟᴜɴᴄʜ (ɢ!ᴘ ᴋᴀʀɪɴᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

rq: yessir

Pairing: sub!g!p rina x dom!fem reader

Plot: Rina doesnt get nervous but why does her best friend make her sweat so hard

Wc; 2391 words

The bell rang to signal lunch, and Karina hurriedly gathered her things, spotting you waiting at the front of her classroom with a grin on your face. As classmates called out their goodbyes to Karina, she radiated confidence, making her way over to you.

Before Karina could leave, a girl approached her, asking, “Hey, do you want to eat lunch with me today?”

Karina hesitated, about to respond, “Oh, the thing is—”

“Karina!” you called out, waving her over. “The lunch I packed you won’t eat itself!” Your playful smirk was aimed directly at the girl talking to Karina, clearly marking your territory.

With an apologetic smile, Karina excused herself and walked over to you. You greeted her with a playful nudge and an arm draped casually over her shoulders, holding the lunch pack in your other hand.

Karina's cheeks flushed a light pink, and she looked away shyly, making you frown slightly but deciding not to push her.

Lunch passed in a comfortable rhythm, the two of you sharing the meal you had prepared. As you reached the final bite, Karina offered it to you, “You should take the last bite.”

You shook your head with a teasing smile, “Absolutely not,” while gently shoving the last spoonful into her mouth.

Throughout your friendship, you had always taken the lead, steering the two of you through decisions big and small. Whether it was deciding on plans or steering her away from unwanted advances, you were always there, guiding her.

After lunch, you both headed to the restroom to freshen up, reapplying lip gloss and fixing your hair. As you finished, you caught Karina staring at your lips, her gaze lingering longer than usual.

You leaned in closer, your face just inches from Karina’s, watching as she took an involuntary step back. Her eyes widened in surprise, and her usually confident demeanor crumbled. Despite being a whole foot taller than you, she seemed smaller in that moment, her composure slipping through her fingers like sand.

“Something wrong, Rina?” you asked, your voice soft, almost a whisper, yet laced with a playful edge. The way you were looking at her—your eyes locked onto hers, unwavering—made her heart race. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out, just a shallow breath that did nothing to steady her nerves.

Her gaze darted downward, unable to hold yours any longer. But as her eyes dropped, they landed directly on your cleavage, partially exposed by the low neckline of your shirt. Karina’s face flushed a deep red, her embarrassment turning into something else—something more intense, more primal.

“Oh?” you said, your voice dropping lower, a teasing lilt curling at the edges of your words. “Did I just catch you staring at what I thought you were?”

Karina’s breath hitched, her mind racing as she struggled to pull herself together. Her heart pounded in her chest, the sound almost deafening in the otherwise silent bathroom. She tried to say something, anything, but the words got tangled on her tongue, coming out as nothing more than a soft stammer.

“I—I wasn’t—” she started, but her voice faltered, the denial weak even to her own ears.

You took another step closer, closing the gap between you. Your body was so close to hers now that she could feel the heat radiating from you, your presence overwhelming her senses. Her back pressed against the cool tile wall, and she realized she had nowhere else to go.

“You weren’t what?” you pressed, your tone gentle yet insistent, pushing her to admit what you both knew. The proximity, the way your eyes bore into hers—it was intoxicating, and Karina could feel her resolve slipping away.

Her lips parted, but before she could speak, you lifted a finger and placed it gently against her lips. The touch was soft, almost tender, yet it silenced her completely, the words dying in her throat.

“Shh,” you whispered, your eyes never leaving hers. The moment stretched out between you, thick with tension, every second feeling like an eternity. Karina could hardly breathe, her body reacting to the closeness, the intimacy of the situation.

Your finger lingered against her lips, a silent command that she couldn’t disobey. Her eyes were locked on yours, unable to look away, the intensity of your gaze holding her captive. Her heart raced faster, and she could feel a flush spreading across her cheeks, down her neck, and to places she couldn’t control.

You smiled, a small, knowing curve of your lips, as if you could read every thought running through her mind. The bathroom seemed to shrink around you both, the air charged with an electric tension that made every breath feel heavy, loaded with anticipation.

“Let me take care of you,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips like a promise, a secret shared just between the two of you.

Karina’s eyes widened, but she nodded, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. You took her hand, leading her to a nearby janitor's closet, closing and locking the door behind you.

You guided Karina into the small, dimly lit janitor’s closet, the faint scent of cleaning supplies hanging in the air. The door clicked shut behind you, the sound echoing in the quiet space. Karina stood there, her breath coming in short, nervous bursts, her eyes wide as she watched you move.

“Pull down your pants, baby,” you commanded softly, your voice carrying an edge of authority that made Karina’s heart skip a beat. There was affection in your tone, but it was clear that you were in control.

Karina’s hands trembled slightly as she reached for the waistband of her pants, her fingers fumbling with the button. She hesitated for a split second, a flash of uncertainty crossing her face, but your steady gaze gave her the reassurance she needed. With a deep breath, she undid the button and pulled her pants down, letting them fall to her ankles.

You stepped closer, your hand gently brushing against her thigh as you knelt in front of her. The contact sent a shiver down Karina’s spine, her body reacting to your touch with a mixture of anticipation and fear. She watched as you looked up at her, your eyes dark with intent.

“Good girl,” you murmured, the words sending a flush of warmth through Karina’s body. Her hands gripped the edges of the shelf behind her, holding on for support as you leaned in closer.

The moment your mouth made contact, Karina’s body tensed, a sharp gasp escaping her lips before she bit down on them to keep from making too much noise. The sensation was overwhelming, your tongue skillfully working its way around her most sensitive parts.

Karina’s breath hitched, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to keep herself composed. Every touch, every movement from you sent waves of pleasure coursing through her, her legs trembling with the effort to stay upright.

You took your time, savoring each reaction, each twitch of her body as you teased her, bringing her close to the edge before pulling back just enough to keep her hanging on. The frustration was evident in her soft whimpers, the way her hips subtly moved toward you, seeking more of the pleasure you were so expertly denying her.

“P-please…” Karina finally managed to whisper, her voice trembling with need. Her hands tightened their grip on the shelf, her knuckles turning white. “Please, I need…”

“What do you need, Rina?” you asked, your voice a low, seductive purr that sent another shiver down her spine. You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at her, watching the way her face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and desire.

“I… I need you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, but the vulnerability in her words was clear. Her eyes met yours, pleading silently for you to end the sweet torment you were putting her through.

A smile played at the corners of your lips, a mixture of pride and satisfaction at how you had her completely under your control. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that,” you teased, your breath warm against her skin.

Karina’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but the need was too strong to ignore. “I need you to… to make me come,” she finally confessed, her voice shaking with the effort it took to say the words out loud.

Your smile widened at her admission, and you leaned back in, your mouth once again working her over with deliberate, calculated movements. Karina’s body responded immediately, her back arching slightly as the pleasure built up inside her, hotter and more intense with each passing second.

But just as she was about to tip over the edge, you pulled back again, leaving her on the brink of release. Karina let out a frustrated whine, her hips bucking slightly toward you, desperate for the release you were denying her.

“Not yet,” you murmured, your voice soft but firm. You placed a gentle hand on her thigh, holding her in place. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

Karina’s breath came in shallow gasps, her body trembling with the effort to hold back. She looked down at you, her eyes wide and pleading, her voice breaking as she whispered, “Please, please let me come. I can’t take it anymore…”

The desperation in her voice was enough to satisfy you, and you resumed your movements, this time with a relentless pace that left Karina with no chance of holding back. Her hands gripped the shelf tighter, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts as the pleasure built up to an unbearable level.

And then, with a final, expert flick of your tongue, you pushed her over the edge. Karina’s body tensed, her back arching as a wave of pleasure crashed over her, her moans barely contained as she rode out her climax. Her legs shook, barely able to hold her up as she came down from the high, her body spent and trembling.

You pulled back, watching with satisfaction as she struggled to catch her breath, her face flushed and her eyes half-lidded with the afterglow of pleasure.

“Good,” you whispered again, your voice soft and full of praise as you gently kissed the inside of her thigh, letting her bask in the warmth of your affection.

But you weren’t done yet. You took Karina’s hand, guiding her to a spare chair in the room. With a fluid motion, you straddled her lap, your bodies aligning perfectly. You could feel her length, still hard and eager beneath you, pressing against you through the fabric.

You leaned in close, your breath warm against her ear. “Put your hands here,” you whispered, placing her trembling hands on your waist. Karina’s touch was hesitant, her fingers curling slightly as she tried to find her footing in the overwhelming situation.

As you began to grind against her, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through both of you, Karina’s breath hitched. The sensation was intense, the heat between your bodies growing with each subtle movement. You didn’t bother removing your panties, just slid them to the side, guiding her into you. The feeling of her entering you, the way she filled you, made you gasp softly, your body instinctively pressing closer to hers.

Her girthy length stretched you out so good, making you let out a guttural moan while you clenched on her veiny cock. Moaning with you, she threw her head back with a hiss, not knowing what to do. The tip of her mushroom hesd kissed your insides so perfectly you bounced up and down on her.

Her thighs going red from the weight you were putting on her as you left scratches tgat left red marks on her shouldersbecause of how good she was making you feel. You koved as if she was your own toy that you could use.

“You like me using you like this?” You said in between ragged moans. “You like just sitting down while I use your cock to pound on my pussy?”

Just whining in response, you grab her hand and place it on the your tummy where a clear bulge comes and goes as you move up and down. At this feeling alone, Karina felt ecstatic that filled you up this good, resulting in her shooting just a few small ropes of cum but her cock still rock hard.

Karina’s hands hovered uncertainly, unsure of where to go, what to do, but you quickly took control, moving her hands to guide your hips. “Move me like this,” you instructed softly, your voice a mixture of command and gentle encouragement.

Karina’s grip tightened on your waist as she followed your lead, her movements becoming more confident as the pleasure built between you. The rhythm you set was slow at first, each thrust deep and deliberate, but soon the pace quickened, the urgency between you growing.

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel,” you murmured, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck. The closeness, the intimate contact, made your voice seem like it was coming from inside her mind, wrapping around her thoughts and desires.

Karina’s voice was shaky, breathless as she tried to find the words. “So good… you’re making me feel so good,” she managed, her voice trembling with the effort it took to speak. Her hands held onto you tightly, grounding herself as the sensation threatened to overwhelm her.

You could feel her head starting to fall, her body surrendering to the intense pleasure, but you weren’t going to let her escape that easily. You grabbed her face gently but firmly, tilting her chin up so her eyes met yours.

“Look at me when I fuck you,” you ordered, your voice low and commanding, but still laced with the tenderness you always showed her.

Karina’s eyes locked onto yours, her gaze filled with a mixture of vulnerability and desire. The connection between you deepened, the intensity of the moment heightened by the shared intimacy. Each thrust, each movement, was a silent conversation between your bodies, expressing everything words couldn’t capture.

As you rode her, your own pleasure building to a peak, you leaned in closer, your forehead resting against hers. The intimacy of the gesture, the closeness, made the experience even more intense. You could feel her trembling beneath you, her breath mingling with yours as you both moved closer to the edge.

“Don’t look away,” you whispered, your voice gentle now, almost a plea. You wanted her to be fully present with you, to share every second of this moment.

Karina nodded slightly, her eyes still locked on yours, even as the pleasure threatened to pull her under. She could feel herself getting closer, the pressure building inside her until it was almost unbearable.

When you finally reached your peak, the release was almost simultaneous, a shared explosion of pleasure that left both of you breathless, clinging to each other as the waves of sensation washed over you. You stayed like that for a moment, your bodies still connected, your breaths mingling as you slowly came down from the high.

“Good girl,” you whispered, smiling down at her as she caught her breath. The two of you stayed there, wrapped in each other, letting the world outside fade away

[lemoncrushh]

You're Never This Quiet

Summary: Harry has been quiet all evening and you wonder why.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1330

A/N: From my 2016 collection, based on a prompt given. Fluffy reader fic with a little bit of trepidation in the beginning.

You and Harry had been dating for two years. Actually, by this point, to say you were "dating" sounded a little silly and juvenile. You were in love. Simple as that. The way he treated you was the way you wanted to be treated, and you gave it back to him tenfold. Sure, it wasn't always easy. You'd had a few bumps in the road, some twists and turns. But to look back at your time together made you burst with pride. Nowadays, any celebrity romance that lasted more than a few months was not only shocking but commendable.

Tonight, you and Harry had gone to a party in Malibu. It was a casual affair on the beach, and like at most parties, you mingled with others throughout the evening, some people you knew, some you were meeting for the first time, but you always managed to circle back to each other. Harry would pull you close, kissing the top of your head before returning to his previous conversation, or perhaps walk with you to a nearby bar to get a refill on drinks.

This time, however, you noticed something different about him. Harry was never really one to stand still, always fidgeting if he wasn't chatting or telling a silly joke. Even if he was being affectionate with you, he wouldn't be serious for long before doing something like tickling you or commenting to others about how great you are. Tonight, he wasn't doing any of those things. Tonight, he was almost...quiet.

You watched him from across the room as he sat in the middle of a semi-circle sofa. For once he wasn't the center of attention. He sipped on his drink and nodded a few times, but you barely even saw his mouth move. A couple times you even saw him rub one of his palms down the leg of his jeans before switching his glass to his other hand and repeating. It was a little disconcerting to be honest, and you felt your stomach tighten. Someone said something to you, but you barely heard. Instead, you smiled politely and excused yourself.

"Hey," you whispered in his ear from behind the couch.

Harry nearly jumped up from his seat before turning to look at you.

"Oh, hey," he grinned when he realized it was you. "Come 'ere."

He gestured with his hand for you to sit next to him. You walked around the sofa and squeezed in. He gently took your hand and threaded his fingers through yours, making you feel a little more at ease. But you were still a little concerned.

"You okay?" you asked.

Harry nodded, giving your hand a little squeeze. But the fact that he swallowed hard was not lost on you. You knew something was up.

You continued sitting with him until his glass was empty and he set it down on the coffee table in front you. When he sat back and ran a hand through his hair, he leaned toward you to whisper.

"Wanna go for a walk?"

"Sure," you nodded apprehensively.

You knew your eyes had to be big as saucers and your heart was just about beating out of your chest as you followed him outside to the large deck. The summer wind hit you in the face, the temperature warm even in the late hour.

Heading toward the edge of the deck, you were surprised when Harry took the stairs and stopped at the bottom one.

"We're going on the beach?" you questioned as you saw him take off his shoes.

"Yeah," he replied, trying to roll up his jeans. "Although I probably shouldn't have worn these."

You giggled lightly, feeling odd that this was the first sign of humor he'd shown all night. You slipped off your own shoes, grateful to be wearing a sundress, and took his awaiting hand before stepping out onto the warm sand.

You cringed slightly at the sensation of sand between your toes. You waited for Harry to say something, expecting to hear his usual comedic comments, but still he remained silent. As you got closer to the ocean and the sand became more compact, you gingerly swung your connected hands between you, hoping to lighten the mood. When Harry looked at you and smiled, you felt your heart flutter.

"I love you," you declared bravely. It was something you said regularly now, but somehow his reserved personality tonight made you a little afraid to say it out loud.

"I love you, too," he echoed.

If Harry heard the loud breath you exhaled, he didn't acknowledge it. You continued to walk together in silence, sans for the crashing waves and the wind in your ears. Finally, you couldn't take it any longer.

"Is something wrong, Harry?" you inquired.

"No...why?"

"You've been pretty quiet this evening," you commented.

There was a slight pause before Harry said, "I have?"

You stopped walking then, releasing your hand from his.

"You're never this quiet, what's wrong?"

Harry turned to look at you, a mixture of worry and confusion on his face.

"Nothing's wrong," he blinked.

"Yes there is," you nearly choked. "C'mon, Harry. We've been together for two years. I know you. Something's up."

Harry bowed his head and ran his hand over his face.

"Yeah, it has been two years," he agreed.

You narrowed your eyes, now confused yourself, and also more worried than ever. Your stomach was now doing somersaults, and you swallowed and wrapped your arms around your middle to try to settle it.

"I...uh...was..." Harry took a deep breath, "trying to decide the right time to do this."

"To do what?"

You watched as Harry shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled something out, though you couldn't quite see what it was. But when he knelt down in front of you in the sand, taking your hand in his, you had to cover your mouth with the other to block the scream that was rising in your throat.

"[Y/N]," he said loud and clear, "I'm sorry I've been such a dope today."

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head.

"I'm so fucking nervous," he muttered before clearing his throat. "My love, will you marry me?"

That was when you saw the ring in his other hand as he held it up. It glistened in the moonlight, reflecting the colors of the night sky and the water.

"Harry!" you barely got out as the tears were already welling up in your eyes. "Oh my God!"

"Is that a yes?" he asked.

You half laughed, half cried. "Oh my God, yes!"

Harry grinned as he swiftly slid the ring onto your finger, giving it a kiss. Then he stood up, taking your face in his hands and kissing your lips.

"I'll make you so happy," he promised, his eyes twinkling.

"I know, baby," you nodded. "You already do."

He kissed you again, this time deeper and longer. Your fingers tangled in the back of his hair as you tried to get as close to him as possible.

"I love you so much," you murmured against his mouth.

After holding each other for a while, and much more kissing, you both decided to ditch the rest of the party. Instead, you continued to walk down the beach, hand in hand, as a newly engaged couple. The idea made you giddy when you thought of it.

When Harry suggested you walk up the beach and sit down for a while, you eagerly agreed. He put his arm around you, and you leaned into him, draping your arm around his bent knee.

"Sorry about your jeans," you said as you felt the wetness from the sand.

"What?" he wondered before realizing what you were talking about. "Oh," he laughed. "It was totally worth it."

You smiled as he nuzzled your neck.

"I'm sorry I was being so quiet," he added.

"It's okay," you assured him. "That was totally worth it, too."

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[bits-and-babs]

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐌 — 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 ‘𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓’ 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

↳ summary: prompt: “That’s so fucking hot.” — Paired with Ghost on a 'drill' mission, you get to witness his sniping prowess first hand.

↳ pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x f!Reader (Delta)

↳ [1k] content: 18+ MDNI. Utterly self-indulgent. Shy reader (because I fancied something different), firing guns, very vague power play, very light degradation (barely there but it’s there), fingering, cum eating (don’t know if this counts but I’ll put it anyway), Ghost is very skilled with a gun.

ghost masterlist I| main masterlist |I join taglist

Easterly winds trace the curve of your cheek and gently waft your hair across your forehead. The pitch blackness that hangs in the nighttime desert air swallows you whole, your defensive spot illuminated only by the waning crescent moon. It's fucking freezing, you're tired, and you'd been staring down a sniper's scope for over six hours.

You’d already decided that whoever thought a sniper drill was a good idea was going to face your wrath in the morning.

Settled into the sand grains beside you is Ghost's hulking frame. His patience is remarkable, settled on his front with his finger fixed on the hairpin trigger of the HDR. He's not moved once since getting into position, the vaguest sign he was even alive being the blink of his eyelids. He doesn’t even need to practise, and you’re convinced he’s been paired with you simply because he pities you being a shit shot. 

"Do you not have pins and needles?" You grumble, the crosshair in your field of vision blurring into a shapeless mush after gazing at it for so long, "I swear I've got a dead leg."

"No." Simon's answer is definitive. You're unsure if you believe him at first, but he squeezes the trigger without warning. The gun cracks, firing its round, and you almost jump out of your skin at the sudden break of silence. "What the fuck, Simo-"

Disbelief stalls your loud complaint, the image of a body-shaped target with a bullet hole dead centre of the cross in the inner circle's fixed point making your jaw drop. 

Simon settles back, shedding the shell casing from the HDR and effortlessly loading a second round. It's like breathing for him, the sniper rifle like a body part that worked as seamlessly as his arms or legs. 

It slips out, your inner dialogue somehow managing to worm its way out of your lips before you can swallow down the mortifying comment. 

"That's so fucking hot..."

Simon doesn't seem to respond at first, but your cheeks are already heating up in embarrassment as you try to backpedal. "I mean- I mean, I'm sure most girls at home would find that really hot! You must have so many girls asking you out when you go home- Half of Manchester, I bet!" 

You laugh awkwardly, holding your own sniper weapon in a death grip. You wish the sand would sink beneath you, dropping you into the depths below. 

"Not really," Simon's rumbling voice cuts through the desert silence. It makes your humiliation even worse, and you squeeze your eyes shut and plan to request a transfer with Captain Price the moment you return to base. Or even hand in your resignation letter. You'd never have to fear running into Simon on another team that way—

"Delta," Ghost's gruff voice cuts through your downward spiral. You open your eyes and glance over at him apprehensively. He's still staring down the scope of his rifle, mask concealing his expression from you. Undoubtedly he was enjoying making you feel stupid.

A heavy hand settles on the back of your thigh, and you suddenly exhale the oxygen in your lungs as though someone has popped the membrane with a pin. Ghost doesn't look up from the scope; his attention is focused on the target over seven-hundred meters away. 

"G-Ghost-" Your voice tremors, and you wish you could blame it on the chill in the desert air. Instead, it's Simon's palm slowly tracing up your thigh, palm squeezing gently at the globe of your ass. 

"Quiet," he orders, and you nod quickly, falling in line at the sound of his authoritative 'lieutenant voice'. He continues his advance, pushing his fingertips under the waistband of your khaki cargos at the small of your back. 

Simon hesitates. He offers you a chance to wave him off, but you can't think of anything worse— he's touching you, sparking your skin hot beneath his slow, deliberate touches. 

Breaching the waistband of your pants, he ensures that he inches his hand below your panties, too, fingertips tracing the naked curve of your ass as they continue their descent. You whimper softly, impatient, but the sound dies in your throat when you see Ghost's irises flick to you in a warning. 

Quiet, I said. 

Swallowing back any more noises of complaint, you spread your legs ever so slightly for him. A rumble of content sound from his chest, and Simon aims his sight down the scope of his rifle again. 

Simon's fingers sink into your fluttering cunt from behind. The stretch alone has you biting down on your knuckles in an attempt to smother the yelp that threatens to breach your mouth. 

What makes it worse is Simon's blatant nonchalance. He adjusts the positioning of his Sniper to mitigate the desert breeze with one hand. Meanwhile, his fingers sink deeper into you, easing in and out until you hear the slick sounds of your cunt swallowing his digits. 

It's pathetic. Ghost'll probably taunt you relentlessly for it, but you rock back onto his hand as his fingers tease your spasming walls. 

"O-Oh, fuck-" you choke out, breathless, as you lower your head and brace against the rising bliss in your abdomen. Again, Ghost's eyes flick over, cautioning you. 

"I'm tryin'a focus," he scolds you flatly, pushing his thumb into your clit harshly. You yelp at the sudden pressure, the arc of pleasure that whips up your spine. 

"W-What can you possibly be fo-ohh-" you moan out, losing your sentence as he slowly begins to circle your clit with his battle-calloused thumb. 

"On this," Simon hums, and again the crack of his sniper rifle jolts your body in shock. Fuck- but he keeps rubbing at your clit, sinking his fingers deeper into you as he searches for your g-spot. 

Your head whips up as your cunt flutters around his digits, looking down the scope. Again, Ghost has hit the target perfectly— slap bang in the middle of its forehead. 

Honestly, you could have cum from that alone, but Ghost's fingers are retreating just as your orgasm surges. You whine loudly, looking over your shoulder to see him remove his hands from your pants despite your protests and use his thumb to push the bottom of his ski mask over his mouth. 

Sinking his fingers into his mouth, he groans as he tastes you. It's the most sordid sound you've ever heard, the noise settling deep into your abdomen as you watch him lick his fingers clean. 

Simon knows what he's doing, knows he has you on the edge of a mind-shattering orgasm, but ignores your heavy breathing and desperate gaze to nod his head at the target. 

"Your turn. Best stop your hands from shaking, love. Get him between the eyes, and I might let you cum."

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[mochiwrites]

an isal drabble based on @isjasz and @kunehokki's au and this ask ( content warning for blood and death <3 )

(Someone is screaming. You realize it’s your own voice.) 

His head hurts, it aches as if it were splitting in two, his throat feels raw, blood spills on his chin. But he can’t stop, he can’t. He’s so close, he’s almost there. He can’t give up now, can’t allow the name of his home to slip away from him once again and leave him a wanderer with no anchor. 

The King is right here, he can help. Together they can say the name of their home, they can–

(Your country!!! Your home!!! It’s gone, it’s gone, it’s gone!!!)

He can’t lose it, he needs to grasp it. 

(You’ve never screamed this much before. So much of you hurts. Does any of it even matter?)

It was his. It was his!

(But you can’t even say it’s name. You can’t you can’t you can’t you can’t you can’t you–)

A sound breaks through the chaos of noise in his head, breaks through the agony gripping his body. It breaks through like some sort of light spilling in through dark storm clouds, just before the sun comes through. 

Something, someone touches him. They grab him by the shoulders, and their hands burn – and yet they do not. Pleasant and gentle, calming and warm, but the contact makes Grian want to tear himself away. He thrashes and wriggles in their grip, yelling some unintelligible thing. It hurts it hurts ithurtsithurtsiTHURTSITHURTSITHURTS!

There’s a pressure against his cheek, one that causes Grian to still entirely. His head is still aching, still leaving him heaving with dry breaths from pain. His throat hurts, jaw aching from strain. But ever so slowly does he come back to himself, and it’s all because of the weight on his cheek. He leaves his country behind, lets it truly slip past his fingers like grains of sand, as he locks gazes with gentle looking eyes. He abandons ownership of his home in order to find his place in the lightless depths before him. 

It’s Scar. 

Scar’s hand is pressing into Grian’s cheek, holding it still. 

(He’s… touching you? He’s willingly touching you?) 

The other is looking at him with gentle eyes, the edges of his lips strained in a struggling smile. His thumb brushes along Grian’s cheekbone, “There you are, G.” His voice is soft, like a soothing melody. 

(But…)

(Wait.)

There’s a trail of blood dripping down Scar’s chin. 

Eye going wide, Grian slowly drags his stare down. He finds the front of Scar’s shirt bloody and slightly torn. What he also finds… is his dagger embedded in the other’s chest, his hand on the handle. Panic shoots down his spine, and it feels like the air in his lungs is being squeezed out. He trembles, but he can’t pull his hand away, can’t remove the dagger that’s actively causing Scar to bleed. 

Scar, sweet Scar, tries to play it off, tries to smile at Grian like he isn’t dying from a stab to the heart. Like he isn’t dying at Grian’s hand. He laughs, a dribble of blood spilling over his lips, “Yeah, not m-my brightest moment, huh? Should’ve m-made sure you wouldn’t go swinging at me while f-freaking out.” 

Grian can’t look away from him, family and enemy fading away from him. He hurt Scar. 

“‘s alright though, G, I-I know you didn’t mean it.” Scar pulls his hand away from Grian’s cheek, and some disgusting part of Grian’s mind wants to cry for Scar to put it back, to touch him again. 

Yet all he can manage to respond with a stutter, “S-Scar…” 

“R-Really, it is!” Scar smiles, even as he wobbles forward. “I’d… rather it be the person I love… dealing the last blow…” He slumps over, head landing right on Grian’s shoulder, and Grian can feel the warm blood dropping on his hand. He uses his other arm to catch Scar, as if it’ll do much to help besides keep him from hitting the floor. 

“Scar..?” he slowly asks, breath speeding up as it hitches roughly. “S-Scar?” 

(You killed him.)

Did Scar… say he loved him? “Ah.” He shakes. He trembles. His breath is coming in too fast, too sharp, he can’t breathe. His hands tremor, he lets go of the dagger but it remains in Scar’s chest. Scar loved him. Scar loved him. Scar loved him and Grian killed him. 

(You hear the raw scream that sounds from your voice.)

[godidontevenknowwhat]

Men like you

Jake Sully x Metkayina!Reader (Romancing Pandora 2024 Day 2 - Daddy Kink)

A/N: posting early today because I managed to finish this before work, yay! Sorry for any mistakes or grammatical errors especially approaching the end because I'm literally about to go in to work 😂

Tagging: @eywaite @neteyamsyawntu

Synopsis: When the great Toruk Makto was accepted into your clan instead of feeling apprehension or fear, like many other Metkayina, excitement pooled deep in your gut at the unfamiliar features and you ached to find out how different he truly was. Age difference be damned.

Warnings: Ambiguous age difference but reader is an adult that is at least 20+, no mention of Neytiri but mention of their kids so - you can imagine her lack of presence in whatever way you'd like, Dom!Jake x Sub!Reader, spitting, oral (male receiving), maybe I might do a part 2 with actual p in v at some point if people want it, 2.9k words in total

From the moment the Sully family first arrived by their Ikran on the white sand of your home, Awa’atlu, you were immediately entranced by their unfamiliar appearance and their plea for Uturu because of the tawtute. The deep sapphire of their skin reminded you of the unclear depths of the ocean outside the reef, their thin limbs and tails suited to their home rather than your own suited for top performance in the water. 

You had heard tales of the tawtute and their cruelty throughout your adolescence, heard stories that made your stomach turn about the battle that took place in the forests to the west of your clan’s reef. You had heard stories of the tawtute ‘dreamwalker’ Jake Sully, a human who walked in a na’vi shell and how he had tamed the large flying beast ‘Toruk’, how he had looked into the eye of Eywa only for Eywa to look back and grant his soul a place forever within his dreamwalker body. 

After almost a quarter of a cycle since the Sully family had been living in the Awa’atlu village you had found yourself growing close with the youngest girl, Tuk, a bright child who brought smiles to the whole clan with her sunny attitude. She clung to your side frequently, introduced to you by the group of Metkayina children that you took care of and taught a variety of skills to as their Karyu. 

Tuk’s favourite part of having you as her Karyu was the stories of your clan that you told her and she always spent time telling you stories of her own. She explained to you that her sister Kiri was actually born of another dreamwalker, a friend of her father’s named Grace and that because of the tawtute DNA that ran through her blood and the blood of Jake they had some features typical of the humans. Hair on their brows, five fingers and toes… these were the most obvious differences that Lo’ak, Kiri and Jake all had to the na’vi.

However, looking at Jake Sully sitting across the bonfire from you on this celebratory night for the youth in your clan that had passed their rites, you could pick out the more subtle differences in his appearance. The fire’s light cast a warm glow over the plains of his body, the dips and contours shadowed in a way that made your mouth water. 

It was obvious to anyone that the Metkayina were built differently to the Omatikaya, but Jake. Great Mother. 

His body held a softness around the stomach but he was fit nonetheless, thick muscles coiled his arms leading to broad shoulders. His forearms were equally defined with prominent veins that spanned their length down to his incredibly large hands. All five of his fingers were long and thick in a way that made your stomach flutter when you thought about them for too long, thought about how they’d feel inside you, thought about how they’d curl against your g-spot just right and make you scream.

Every part of Jake Sully was compelling to you, the way he held himself, the way he spoke, the strange tawtute words that still slipped through after years of speaking the native language. 

Lo’ak had let it slip once not long ago that the tawtute name Jake called you every time he thanked you for helping with Tuk and the others, “pretty”, was how the sky people called someone sevin. Even now as you thought about it, it brought a flush to your face and a million thoughts to your head about what that could possibly mean.

You never would have thought, in the name of Eywa, that Jake spent as much time admiring you as you did him. Watching how you interacted with his children was how it started, how you helped Tuk learn the ways of the Metkayina just as you did with the children of Awa’atlu, how you didn’t look at any of them differently no matter the amount of fingers or “demon blood” that everyone else in the reef seemed to only see while looking at them.

It was only after Jake saw what you did for his children that he allowed himself to look at you properly, to see you in the way you saw him.

He started by admiring the gentle waves of your hair, your hairstyle perfectly styled to keep it out of your face in the water. He admired the stormy blue of your eyes, eyes that held such love and care in them. He admired your smile, the way it stretched across your face and the way it brought a smile to his own without any trouble at all. Admiration and yearning slowly turned one in the same as time passed, Jake found himself  becoming more and more entranced by the soft curves of your body. 

While the Metkayina were softer all around compared to the Omatikaya, a layer of fat needed on your bodies to keep you warm for long periods in the water is what Norm’s theory was, Jake was sure the softness of your body was more than evolutionary. Your curves brought him back to earth, back when he was an idiot with no future flipping through history textbooks in his half-assed bid to get through school so he could at least support himself, back when he didn’t give a second thought to why the world he lived in was so shitty and corrupt or why the only way anyone could see the beautiful statues of goddesses carved centuries before in countries that barely existed anymore was in textbooks. When Jake truly looked at you, when he saw you, he saw the beauty of a goddess and he knew if he were to draw a picture of how he thought Eywa herself would look, it would be terrible because he can’t draw for shit, but it would be as close to your likeness as he could get it.

He was ashamed at first, when his thoughts about you began to turn to ones that were no better than the thoughts of a horny teenage boy, then when he spent more than a few sleepless nights picturing you under him until he came hard enough to send him into a sleep deeper than a coma the shame only grew. Shame ate at Jake, gnawed at him, buried its way under his skin and took up residency so profoundly that he couldn’t evict it. 

Sevin. Pretty. Sevin. Pretty. Pretty. Pretty.

The words swam in your mind like an infantile ilu, made a heat ignite beneath your skin that burned hotter than the bonfire and a flush stain your skin you were hoping the cup of kava you were working your way through could be a scapegoat for if anyone was curious.  

You watch Jake’s hands as they rub over his thick thighs, jumping in surprise when after a few moments he removed his hands and slapped them back down onto his thighs with a slap. You managed to make out that he said something about heading off, going back to his Marui and without any more lingering he pulled the waistband of his tewng higher on his waist from where it had slipped and took his leave.

You throw back the last of your kava and take a few unintentionally unsubtle glances around you to make sure you don’t have any unwanted attention before getting to your feet and following Jake in the direction of his Marui. You knew the path like the back of your hand purely from your excursions with Tuk and occasionally Lo’ak, able to find yourself outside in what felt like the blink of an eye. 

Jake is in the process of closing the privacy covers on his Marui when you approach with delicate footsteps on the connecting walkway, giving you no time to excuse yourself as his eyes lock straight onto yours. For a moment he looks surprised until a sharp grin spreads across his handsome face, his head tilting to the side slightly as he beckons your inside.

You find yourself frozen for just a moment until you will your feet to move, stepping into his home and watching as he finishes closing the privacy coverings. You watch the muscles of his back flexing as he does so, entranced by his body once again just as you had been at the bonfire.

“You’ve got a staring problem, you know that?” Your breath catches in your throat at his words, any confidence you had dwindling out like the doused flames of a fire. Jake senses your discomfort and turns to look at you, a less intimidating smile taking over his face as he approaches you. “Calm down, baby. Don’t worry. I’ve got a pretty bad staring problem too” His large hands move to rest on your hips, pulling you closer and forcing a gasp of surprise out of your mouth. His eyes peer down at you, a lustful haze darkening their amber colour, the way they lock on to your own makes a shiver trickle down your spine. “Stare at you all the time, pretty girl. I just know how to do it without being caught” You can’t control the giddy smile that spreads across your face, almost bringing an ache to your cheeks from the stretch of it.

“Open your mouth for me, pretty girl” Jake watches as your mouth opens automatically, taking a shameful amount of pride in the way you cling to his words and follow them without question. Your pretty pink tongue sits so sweetly in your mouth, spit beginning to pool the longer that he spends staring. Lifting his hand to your face, Jake takes a hold of it to steady you before tilting your head back ever so slightly and pursing his lips to spit onto your tongue.

Your head spins as a high whine escapes your throat, the pure filth of Jake’s actions causing your neglected cunt to pulse needily. You attempt to close your mouth and swallow the built up saliva before it becomes too much but before you can do so you feel the weight of Jake’s thumb settling itself into the dip of your tongue. 

Closing your lips around Jake's thumb, an uncontrollable moan escapes him at the feeling of your gentle sucking and pillow soft tongue. In a fleeting moment of cruelty, Jake forces his thumb deeper, pressing ever so slightly to the back of your tongue just to hear your pitiful little gurgle as you gag from the unexpected pressure.

“Christ, such a good girl for Daddy” He drags his thumb out of your suckling mouth, groaning at the uncontrollable throb of his cock when your pretty, plump lips part to release it. Your eyes watery from the slightest abuse of your gag reflex and Jake’s sure the amount of blood that has left his brain to harden his cock this much is going to leave him with less brain cells than he can afford.

“Da-dee?” 

Jake lets out a deep, rumbling growl at the sound of your sweet little voice despite the shoddy pronunciation of the human word and the sound shoots straight to your cunt, your slick dampening your tewng  “That’s right baby, M'your daddy now, aren’t I?” 

The sweet little crease of confusion settled on your brow only serves to turn him on more, tail whipping back and forth erratically as he stares you down with his piercing amber eyes. You watch his hands move from where he grips you to reach for the strings of his tweng, you can feel his amusement radiating from him at how you can’t seem to drag your eyes away until his voice breaks the silence.

“Why don’t you get on your knees for Daddy, pretty girl? C’mon get down there for me” His tewng drops from his body in near perfect sync with your knees dropping to the floor and you watch, entranced, as he spits into the palm of his hand before giving his impressive cock a few quick, slick tugs.

Jake can barely meet your lust-clouded eyes that flick back and forth between his hard cock and his face, worried that he’d lack the self control it would take to stop from stroking his dick in his tight grip until his fat load covered your face.

You feel Jake’s hand take a rough grip of your hair, all five of his fingers gripping your loose waves hard enough to make it sting just a little. 

“You want to suck it, pretty girl? Want daddy’s cock in your mouth?”

A desperate purr bubbles from your throat uncontrollably and your ears pin back in a show of pure submission “Please, Please daddy” 

Jake uses his grip on your hair to guide your head towards his cock, a growl rumbling from his throat at how hungrily you suck his cock deep into your mouth. Your eagerness makes your eyes water but a nagging part of your mind worries you’ll never have a chance like this again which only encourages you to not take a second of this encounter for granted.

Jake uses his grip on your hair to move your head up and down on his cock, abusing your throat with his length, your body fights to reject the intrusion with messy gags and excess spit drooling from your plump lips but you fight back the urge to gag every time and after a few moments of Jake using your throat how you dreamt he’d use your currently soaked pussy you were able to take him without any overwhelming issue. 

Jake is entranced by the tears that spill from your lash line, dampening your cheeks along with a mix of your saliva and his pre-cum that had been steadily drooling from his cock since you dropped to your knees. “So perfect for daddy”

You feel Jake’s grip tugging you off his cock and you whine from the disappointment, fighting his hold to have the weight of his cock in your mouth once again. All Jake can do is laugh fondly in disbelief at how much of a mess you were already, he can only imagine how you’d react if he decided to split your pussy open on the girth of his cock. “Tongue out for me, baby. Show me your tongue”.

You follow his instructions immediately, tongue lolling out of your mouth mindlessly. A desperate sob ripping from your throat when he begins tugging his cock with his free hand. “Ah, baby don’t get pouty now, your mouth was like heaven but I want to watch you look stupid for it, just for a second” 

Jake watches you as your cock drunk eyes seem to be latched straight on to his hands movements. He feels his heavy balls drawing closer to his body, his breathing getting heavier the closer he gets to blowing his load. “You wanna taste daddy’s cum, sweetheart? Got a big fucking load of it just for you” He taps the sensitive head of his cock against your tongue and lets out a borderline feral growl when you take the initiative to swirl your eager letting tongue around the tip. 

Jake’s hand is getting faster on his cock now, you watch eagerly as your cunt pulses with need and drools more slick into your tewng that sticks to your skin. He pulls back from your mouth and peers down at you, you can tell he’s close but needs something more to tip him over the edge. 

“Please cum for me, daddy”

Jake feels your words like a punch to the gut and can’t even suck in a breath before he’s cumming. Moans escape him uncontrollably as he watches each shot of his hot cum hit your face. The first hits your cheek and he knows immediately that he wants to cover your whole face with his load, no questions asked, it’s an animalistic desire that burns shamefully in his gut but he’s too lost in the throes of pleasure to fight it. 

Each shot of Jake’s hot cum that hits your face makes your clit pulse needily and you sob in pleasure, a dark desire inside you wishes that every drop was being pumped deep into your empty cunt instead.

Jake forces your mouth back open with a squeeze of your jaw, resting his cock on your tongue for a final time as he roughly tugs out the last drops of cum to at least let you taste him for being such a good girl.

The air is thick with desire as you swallow down the last of Jake’s load, the rest of it cooling the longer it sits on your face. Your eyes are locked with his, waiting for him to say something or do something.

Jake pants above you, admiring your debauched state. Your lips are swollen, your face and chest is soaked from your tears, his cum and your spit. Jake had never been any good at art or understanding it but in his head, right at this moment, your messy little face was a masterpiece and he was the artist that made it.

You startle slightly when Jake crouches in front of you, his hand cups your pussy through your tewng and the sudden pressure after being neglected for so long almost makes your knees buckle. Jake chuckles and pats your cunt condescendingly, enjoying the sound of the wet smack his hand produces as it makes contact with your slick tewng. 

“How about we clean up that pretty face of yours.. and then daddy can work on cleaning up your sweet little cunt?”

[slytherheign]

DAYLIGHT | charles leclerc

PART 2/3 OF LOVER: THE TRILOGY.

PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

SUMMARY: amidst the dark nights, you find that one glimmer of hope—the light that shines and the one who stays. it’s morning now, and you only see daylight.

WARNINGS: angst, hate, cheating (past relationship), doubts, and hints of smut. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. dedicated to @paperplane93, i hope you’re having a great day!

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO TO TRILOGY MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

Love was as cruel as the cities you lived in.

It was a journey you'd been on countless times before, but each time, it seemed to slip through your fingers like sand, leaving you feeling like shattered glass. Past relationships have taught you bittersweet lessons, dousing the flames of hope and leaving behind a trail of broken dreams.

Everyone looked worse in the light—everyone, including you. The town’s kind, innocent, smart, pretty little girl who turned into a rebel once she packed her bags, left the door, and stepped into the light given by the outside.

There were so many lines you have crossed unforgiven. You left everything behind and never looked back as if you didn’t care. Your old friends and your family have finally called, you answered them but once they said what they wanted to say, you ended the calls and blocked them all. The conversation was always the same anyway—them trying to convince you to come back and warning you that what you were doing would lead to failure.

There was also someone you loved before Charles, someone you loved truly and sacrificed a lot for. It didn’t end well when you saw him kissing your old best friend. He apologized and begged for your forgiveness, and because you loved him so much, you gave him another chance. It took you a long while to realize he was blinding you with lies. When you caught him cheating again, you ran away, never to turn back to him ever again. The luck of the draw only draws the unlucky. And so, you became the butt of the joke.

You were mocked for your naive gambles, ridiculed for your missteps, and left with a haunting regret that you wounded the good and trusted the wicked. It seemed as though every step you took to clear the air, to make things right, only lured you further into the haze of smoke, choking you with the consequences of your choices. You have moved on from your past, never wanting to remember it again. The only thing you took with you were the memories and lessons of your mother you held dear. Your mother would be so mad if she knew you were choosing to forget where you came from, but it was what you needed to do if you wanted to be free. In clearing the air, you breathed in the smoke.

You believed that love was a journey, a rollercoaster of emotions, where the highs were exhilarating and the lows were heart-wrenching. But as time passed, the uncertainties crept in, weaving doubts within your mind like persistent cobwebs. You began to question if love was nothing more than a shimmering illusion teasing you from a distance.

You've mourned over shattered hopes and dreams, clinging to the emotional debris of past relationships. Each heartbreak left you more hesitant, more fearful of falling again. You became convinced that love was a game of chance, an unwinnable lottery that mocked your attempts at finding happiness.

But then, just when you had resigned yourself to a life of solitude, someone unexpectedly entered your life. His name was Charles, and he carried a light that danced within his eyes—a light that you hadn't seen in years.

You didn't want to look at anything else now that you saw him.

His presence illuminated the shadows within you—dissolving your doubts and fears. He saw beyond your scars and unraveled the tapestry of your soul. His patience and understanding breathed life into your broken spirit, assuring you that love could be different this time.

Slowly but surely, Charles guided you through the remnants of past hurt, showing you that vulnerability wasn't synonymous with weakness. Together, you wove a delicate tapestry of trust, honesty, and shared dreams. With each passing day, the walls you had built around your heart crumbled and exposed your true self to him.

In his arms, you discovered a love that was both gentle and fierce, a love that healed past wounds and ignited a sense of hope within you. He listened, truly listened, to the tremors of your heart, and matched them with his own desires. Your love wasn't perfect—no love ever was—but it was real and authentic.

You didn't want to think of anything else now that you thought of him.

With Charles, the idea of true love shifted in your mind. It was no longer an unattainable fantasy but a tangible reality—a reality that blossomed when two souls found solace in each other's embrace. He reminded you that your worthiness of love wasn't determined by your past failures but by the relentless hope you held within.

Through him, you learned that true love isn't a fluke or a mere stroke of luck. It was a conscious choice, an endless commitment to nurture and cherish a connection beyond what society deemed acceptable. 

You'd been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night.

In the past, you've allowed your vision to become clouded by the remnants of failed connections and relationships. You wandered the murky path of love with blinders on, seeking validation and approval from old friends and family. You desperately tried to fit into molds that suffocated you.

And now you saw daylight.

With Charles, everything felt different. His arrival into your life was like the first rays of sunlight after a long and relentless storm. You realized that all the heartbreaks and disappointments were not indicators of your worth. They were simply stepping stones, guiding you towards something that rose above anything you've ever experienced.

You've stormed out of every single room in your old town, left it without even saying goodbye. And you knew he wasn't perfect too. He had a past full of pain and losses. He made his career his focus, because every time he was racing, the voices in his head were drowned out by the noise of his car. He ran with the wolves and refused to settle down. 

You found solace, understanding, and acceptance with each other. The dark nights were over the moment you found him and he found you. You threw out your cloaks and your daggers because it was morning now. It was brighter now.

You were laughing so hard as Charles tickled your stomach. He pressed kisses to your neck down to your chest to where your heart was. He looked up at you, his eyes full of love and desire.

“Can I have you tonight, chérie?” he asked.

You nodded, eyes mirroring the desire in his. “You can have me any day and any night.”

You could see it all.

All of him, all of you, intertwined.

You once believed love would be black and white.

But it was golden.

“I love you,” he said in between his breaths. His forehead touched yours, a hand caressing your cheek as you both danced to a rhythm of love. 

You opened your eyes to stare at his. “I love you too, Charles.”

You could see it all in your head.

Back and forth from Monaco, sneaking into his bed.

You once believed love would be burning red.

But it was golden like daylight.

It was morning now. It was brighter, it was better, and it was worth the 20-year dark night you experienced before. You were learning and growing together. He defined you by the things you loved, not by the things you were afraid of or the things that haunted you in the middle of the night. For him, you were what you loved.

You were only seeing daylight.

And it was him.

It was Charles.

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, carlossainz55, and 998, 753 others

charles_leclerc Happy 2nd year anniversary, my daylight. @yourusername

view all 267, 890 comments

pierregasly a hard launch, finally

leclercsainz HOW LONG HAVE YOU KNOWN PIERRE

pierregasly a couple months after they met

leclercsainz WHAT

cl16lover I JUST WOKE UP HELP

redleclerc NO CAUSE SAME

chilisainz CHARLES HARD LAUNCHING A SECRET 2 YEAR RELATIONSHIP WAS NOT ON MY 2023 BINGO CARD

forzaferrari i’m more surprised he was able to keep a secret this long tbh

chewie1644 MY DAYLIGHT EXCUSE ME GOODBYE

chilisainz fr i need someone to call me their daylight too

c2defender WHO IS THE GIRL

leclover someone on twitter posted a thread about her and it’s not looking good, yikes

c2defender omg why?

leclover apparently she abandoned her family or something

lestappensz yall should check the twitter thread about her

carlossaints drop the @ bestie

lestappensz i think it’s @charlesleclairs

simplylovely stop we don’t even know if any of those things are true

lestappensz girl i’m pretty sure her brother commented and confirmed everything was true

charlesleclairs LEAVE HER BEFORE SHE LEAVES YOU LIKE SHE LEFT HER FAMILY

You stepped into the daylight and let it all go.

The sky was painted with hues of hope, and your hearts were filled with a newfound understanding.

You just hoped the afterglow would be the same.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

FORMULA ONE TAGLIST: @dreamingofautopia @lpab @matildrry @fangirl125reader @tall-tanned-tattoo @aundercover @stevesworld9 @princessria127

[lundenloves]

“ 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍’𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 “

⤷ this was written in around 40 minutes flat. i love you all, thank you for being here to support my ramblings.

masterlist | taglist | request info

His first deployment. Nothing short of devastating, a ruinous experience not meant for the likes of an eighteen year old. Shoved between a divergence of broken and bruised ageing men that forced a squint from younger eyes. The smell of drink and gunpowder mixed, sat shoulder to shoulder with bloodied uniforms and pairing eyes that sunk to the floor as if by force. “How is it?” A splutter of conversation was hosted through cigarette ends, two older men sat adjacent from one another in the truck. Simon paid an ear.

“The same.” He answered, sitting back and leaving a weighted sigh. “Bad.”

The thump of an impatient fist against his thigh was one Simon had sidewardly eyed, painfully aware of his own crisp green camo. Against its purpose, it did little to blend him in. Each pocket was still with tact stitching, sleeves unworn by others’ demise and his teenage build was a patent sign of his rank. “Lost a dozen or so.”

Unscarred hands white knuckled a rifle, jaw tightening through the ins and outs of that sole conversation beside him. The truck battered against divots in the sand they drove through, his stomach churning with each time pressure had been applied to the breaks. “Bravo?”

“Bravo.” Spare ash from their smoking had tumbled over Simon’s boot, his eyes pointedly watching the grey flake and disappear. “Lost their sniper, stupid sods.” A brief pause for what was assumed to be an inhale, desert now surrounding every side of the four by four, not one clue was to be had of their exact location. “Y’wouldn’t put a young lad on his own up on ninety-two would you? Fuck sake.”

Young eyes reverted toward his gun, heavy and worn with scratched handwriting across the barrel. The day was a fleet. Two lives had been lost that morning, two men to his left on that last drive. Two neat bullets placed into chests that pried the last drop of life they had clasped so desperately to on that desert floor.

Simon watched them die from his dugout. A pit in the sand created by waves of wind, the seniors beside him wrapped a sole knuckle on his helmet in empathy. “Don’t let it stick with you, son.” Seven words that had shaped a military mindset from the beginning.

His eye twitched from the loss of life, watching the last breath leave a soul before going limp. The youthful silence was noted by the men alongside him, apparent trauma was something that hadn’t slipped yet only turned into a weapon the older he grew.

Trauma was key.

Trauma was valued.

Because what was a soldier without trauma? How could bullets take another life without the aid of anger. Not only had two men lost theirs, Simon had also taken his first. A fumbled mess at best, the worst way to go without dignity at the wrath of an eighteen year old child. His ungloved hands fingered at the trigger, equivalent to flooring a pedal in a car his knuckles turned white with the grip and his eyes involuntarily squeezed shut.

His arms had dropped to his sides after the fact, blood spats across his face from a point blank effort that had left a traumatic scene. His kill wasn’t nearly as neat and kind, though heavy and messy. The weight stuck with him, taking five paces backward to the colleague behind him who was only a year older at the time. “It’ll get better.”

And those three words paired with the prior seven had merged to find a mantra. Somewhere hidden between desolation and adrenaline had he finally understood the Who Dares Wins motto of the SAS, nevermind the surface level of Be The Best — an army effort that ironically felt below of his own expectation of himself. Who Dares Wins felt right. It felt deeper and solid, something that resonated and rumbled within his chest.

But for years, Be The Best was the phrase he aimed to please. His first deployment was a testament to that, eyes wide and glassed on the ride back to base that was missing two men save for their dogtags and guns. His hands shook uncontrollably as did his leg that trembled without conscious effort, he felt sick to the stomach and the blood on his uniform now felt like the rest of his life.

He noticed how no one spoke.

How hands aggressively rubbed at faces and boots were kicked up on the two ghost seats adjacent. The quiet wasn’t necessarily due to respect of fallen men but fatigue. Sleep never came for weeks and the start of a nightmarish routine had only just begun, this was living hell but it felt right.

It felt deserved.

The red water that had pooled by his feet that night in the shower wasn’t something he could ever wash off and anxiety had peaked.

By his first deployment, every corner he looked around was now subject to threat. Every fast movement was met with panic and his eyes had went longer without blinking. Hand pats on the shoulder were now cause for fright and the deafening blasts of machine guns made home in his house. Hell, they’d taken a room.

He became completely closed.

No one got in.

No one got out.

simon 'ghost' riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbars @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @rayhawk05 @han11dh @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkbbyx3 @gressseyy @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @cliosunshine @bloobewy @lazybutsmexy @iluvoaldmen @yyiikes @tieflingteatime @cosmoscoffee @lilvampirina @cinnabeanz @spencerreidisbae123 @paperbag-prncss @cookiecutta @sluttyforsimon @loveangelic @friendly-neighborhood-lich-queen @hayleybarnesx @reignthereigner

MY FUCKING TAGS BROKE

[shmothman]

Public Displays

Vash the Stampede x Reader Words: 1520 Rating: G Summary: when evading bounty hunters, sometimes it's best to get creative. A/N: remember that scene in... which marvel movie was it, winter soldier? where natasha tells steve to kiss her because "pda makes people uncomfortable" and the guys chasing them won't look too closely? yeah. that. (as usual, i primarily had 98 vash in mind while writing.) Read on AO3

“I heard that Vash the Stampede was headed toward town.”

Your eyes meet his across the table; yours nervous, his resigned. You’ve been lucky lately, passing through several towns with little incident, so you suppose you’re due for some… excitement. Still, maybe that group of rugged-looking men across the bar doesn’t have any frame of reference for what he looks like.

“Heard he wears a red coat,” one says.

“And he’s got spiked-up hair,” another chimes in.

…Yeah, it’s time to take your leave.

You place a few double dollars on the table and nod in a way you hope is surreptitious, and thankfully, Vash takes your cue. You’ll leave first, and he’ll follow.

You grab your bag and slink toward the entrance, watching the group of men in your peripheral vision. They look like rough characters, and they clearly just rolled into town, still covered in desert sand and sweat and grime, guns strapped to their hips. You grimace as you make your way outside into the cool night, crossing your fingers as you wait near the door for Vash.

You breathe for a moment, then two.

“Hey!” you hear from inside the bar, and your heart skips a beat. “Hey! That’s Vash the Stampede!”

Time to go.

You get a head start, knowing Vash will be right behind you, and, true to form, he’s beside you in an instant, a sigh on his lips as he steers you down a dark alleyway, caging you against the wall like a shield as he peeks around the corner behind you. Your pursuers haven’t figured out which way you went, but it’s only a matter of time.

“Anyone there?” you ask, made slightly breathless by both exertion and proximity; the instinctive way Vash protects you with everything he has, his chest nearly pressed to yours. 

“Not yet,” he says, blue eyes glinting in the darkness. “Come on, let’s go—”

“Wait,” you interrupt, taking hold of his wrist. 

He looks at you with furrowed brows; questioning.

“The coat. That’s what they know you by. Did they get a good look at you in the bar?”

“Good enough,” he says.

“We have a better chance if you lose it. And the glasses. Just put them in my bag. I’ll mess up your hair and we’ll walk off like nothing happened.”

He frowns, clearly unconvinced. 

“Oh, c’mon,” you say. “It’s better than nothing.”

That, he concedes to. “Alright,” he says, undoing the buttons of his coat. You know that his underclothes make him stick out—that strange, skintight material with so many straps and cut-outs, a large scar visible on his exposed shoulder—but it’s dark anyway, and no one would connect it with Vash the Stampede. He folds his coat and offers it to you, and you stuff it into your bag, then take his glasses, too.

“C’mere,” you say, and pretend to feel nothing as he leans down to let you muss his hair—your heart races as you try not to linger; try not to focus on the way it feels beneath your fingers, the way you wish so badly to be able to touch him like this.

Now isn’t the time. 

“There.” He looks... different, like this; with his hair down and his coat missing. It feels vulnerable; intimate in a way that makes your cheeks warm. You swallow, looking away. “Let’s go. Act casual.”

He nods, looking out around the corner again, turning his head both ways before slipping out into the street and giving you a nod. 

You’re going to have to get back to the hotel and grab your stuff; you’ll probably have to leave town to avoid a confrontation. You suppose you’ll be sleeping under the stars tonight.

Better than the alternative.

You set off down the road, and it isn’t long until you get to an area that’s slightly busier, one with people still walking around despite the chill and danger of the desert night. You draw closer to Vash’s side, taking a deep breath as you reach for his hand.

He stiffens slightly, and you notice the way his eyes dart over to you, though only in his peripherals.

“They didn’t see me with you,” you say quietly. “They expect Vash the Stampede to be alone.”

Vash nods, but... there seems to be a slight nervousness in the way he moves. 

Maybe you’re just imagining things.

A clamor ahead of you draws your attention, and both of you freeze as several rather familiar-looking men come marching down the street. Right toward you.

“We’re looking for the Humanoid Typhoon,” you hear one say to a man walking by, loud and slightly slurred. “You seen anybody suspicious ‘round here?”

You don’t hear the townsperson’s reply, but you do tuck yourself against the porch to a closing shop. This is bad. Even if they’re looking for a red coat, you don’t know if you’ll be able to escape their notice, not out in the open like this; maybe this was a terrible idea, things are probably going to devolve into a gunfight—

Unless...

Heart pounding, you turn to him. “Kiss me.”

Immediately, Vash’s face goes a bright vivid red, and you can feel yours warming to match. He makes an unintelligible questioning noise, something like, “buh?”

“They won’t look at us,” you whisper harshly. “PDA makes people uncomfortable.” You wouldn’t be doing this if you could think of any other way out—of course you’ve been dying for even an ounce of his affection, but not in such dire circumstances. Not if he doesn’t also want it as badly as you do. 

And you want it badly.

But… Vash agrees easily, blue eyes so bright as he nods shakily, leans into you. “You sure?” he asks, hardly more than a whisper, and his warm breath tickles your lips in a way that sends a shiver up your spine. Oh god, he’s going to kiss you—

“Yes,” you say, and that’s all it takes for him to close the gap.

He only presses his lips to yours chastely, angling his nose and wrapping his arm around you to shield you from the view of your oncoming pursuers, but it’s enough to make sparks burst behind your eyelids, to send you reeling, dizzy and euphoric in the thrill of finally. The only thing you can think of is how warm he is.

Your heart pounds in your chest, hammering away in your ribcage, and distantly, you fear that he can feel it—that he’ll immediately know that this is something you’ve wanted. You don’t want to take advantage of a situation like this, don’t want to take advantage of him… but his breath comes quicker, his lips trembling, and for a moment, you think that maybe this is something he wants, too. You truly can’t help bringing your hand to his face, cradling his cheek in your palm the way you’ve dreamed of for so long now, can’t help rubbing your thumb over the cute little mole beneath his eye, can’t help parting your lips, ever so slightly. 

And you feel something break in Vash—his restraint, perhaps—as he responds in kind, pulling you closer like he has no choice but to do so, opening up into the kiss with a tiny whimper that sends heat coursing through you like a tidal wave.

This… this can’t be pretend. Not anymore.

Tossing inhibition to the wind, you allow your tongue to brush his bottom lip, and Vash shudders—you can feel the way it rushes up his spine, settles at the base of his neck as he invites you in, pressing harder into you. He steals the breath from your lungs but you wouldn’t have it any other way, losing yourself in his embrace, in the noise it makes when he separates from you briefly, only to return eagerly for more—and then again, and again, and again until you’re dizzy and reeling.

You’re in heaven. He is heaven.

Suddenly, he stops, and so do you, stomach turning pleasantly until you realize what you’re doing, the butterflies quickly turning anxious.

“Um,” he says quietly, muffled against your lips. “I think they’re gone…” his voice is pitched high and reedy, a kind of desperation you’ve been dying to hear.

You separate, face flushing. “Oh,” is all you can think to say. 

He laughs nervously, eyes not meeting yours. “We should—we should go get our stuff.”

He’s right. You need to skip town, pronto. But as you make your way back toward the inn, you can’t keep from dwelling on his kiss; the way he held you. You had thought your feelings to be unrequited, but... you can’t have misread that. 

You’re going to have to talk to him about this. There’s no way you can pretend it didn’t happen—no way you can go back to the way things were—and despite the danger, the adrenaline singing through your veins, despite the nervousness you feel at his own anxiety, a smile finds its way to your lips as you steal out of town under the cover of darkness, your pursuers none the wiser. 

Vash kissed you. And there’s no going back.

[mimisempai]

A time for everything

Summary

Loki was at peace with himself. He had sacrificed himself of his own free will to give everyone the chance to live as they chose. 

As he watches over the timelines, he's grown accustomed to living with the void left by the loss of his friends and one person in particular. 

But unexpected help may change the course of events.

Notes

POV of Loki reuniting with Mobius and the continuation of their story together.

On Ao3

Rating G - 2020 words

"Let the time pass."

Mobius' voice echoed up to him, flying through the timelines, louder than all the other voices.

Loki smiled slightly, closed his eyes, swallowed his tears and exhaled deeply.

He had so much time now.

At the heart of the temporal flux, he felt all the lives that could continue to exist, free.

He had done what he had to do for all of them. 

Never again would anyone be eliminated, wiped out, replaced because they hadn't followed the path that determined their destiny.  

Never again would anyone's memory be erased because they had made the wrong choice, the wrong decision.

There would be no more fate. No more destiny. No more predestined choice.

"You could be whoever or whatever you wanted."

Now they could all be whoever or whatever they wanted. 

Good or bad. Hero or villain.

Not because someone else decided.

Free to choose and live with the consequences of their choices.

That was what he had done for them and for himself.

And since it was about living with the consequences of your choices, Loki, alone with himself, couldn't ignore the consequences of his own choices. He hated people who lied to themselves, so he wouldn't lie to himself by ignoring the void left by the loss of his friends.

The loss of a friend.

The loss of a love.

The loss of Mobius.

But sacrifice meant nothing when there was nothing to lose.

Mobius.

His ultimate sacrifice.

So he could choose to live his life the way he wanted to.

"What if his choice was you?"

Loki shook his head, closing his eyes and choosing to ignore the thought. Searching deep inside of himself for peace, he slowly let it slip away.

He could not and would not go back.

Even though the feeling of loss seemed unbearable, he was truly at peace with the choice he'd made.

For the first time he'd made a choice in full consciousness. Not driven by outside forces, or by a desire for revenge, or for some unlikely glory, just a completely selfless choice because only he could make it.

He would endure it, however painful it might be...

For them.

For him.

"Let the time pass."

Mobius' voice echoed inside him, and he let time take its course.

The timelines unfolded as they would.

Secured by the tree, by him in the heart of the tree.

The passage of time didn't erase the absence, but the awareness of those lives unfolding, free under his care, was enough to remove the sting and turn it into a phantom pain. 

Until one day he couldn't feel it anymore.

"Idiot."

A voice, clearer than all the others, louder, sharper, as if addressed to him, snapped him out of his meditation. 

He searched the timeline for the source of the voice, but every time he thought he had reached it, it seemed to disappear like sand between his fingers. Like it  jumped from one time line to the next.

"In your new wisdom, there's still something you haven't learned."

There was no longer any doubt that the voice was really speaking to him. It had a familiar tone, but Loki couldn't remember who it belonged to.

He called out softly, "Who are you?"

He scanned the timeline, waiting for an answer, when suddenly the voice sounded again, clear and loud.

"Deep down, you know it."

Loki closed his eyes, trying to concentrate deep inside, and felt a familiar aura. 

His own.

Opening his eyes, he called out, "Loki."

"Good answer," the voice replied as the elder Loki materialized in front of him.

"You!"

"Me."

"But how? Why?" 

Loki was so astonished to see this variant that he could only ask, "What are you doing here?"

The elder Loki replied gently, "By doing what you have, you have freed us, so I'm here to offer you some of that freedom in return. You do not have to carry this burden alone."

Loki shook his head, "But how?"

The other Loki replied softly, "Same aura, same powers."

He gently grabbed one of the timelines, which glowed a faint green at his touch to illustrate his point.

Loki, overwhelmed as he began to understand the implications of what the older Loki was suggesting, asked, "How long?"

The other Loki replied quietly, "As long as you need, a lifetime, who knows? Nothing has to be final. There are so many others like us that we can teach, and so the burden will be carried by all of us."

He raised an eyebrow at Loki and added, "So? What are you saying?"

Loki didn't have to think long and nodded slowly.

He stood and held out his hands to the old Loki. The other Loki did the same and, pressing their palms together, they nodded together.

"Now."

Time flowed fluidly from Loki to the elder Loki, and when Loki was sure that the time flow had stabilized, he helped him to the throne.

He bowed to him and said softly, "Thank you, my friend."

The other Loki nodded gently and said with a half-smile on his lips, "Go. Go be with him."

Of course, the old bugger had seen through him.

Loki straightened up and headed for Mobius' timeline, but before he laid a hand on it, he turned to the other Loki and said in a determined voice, "I'll be back.

The other Loki nodded and replied with a smile, "I'm sure you will. I know you."

Loki chuckled softly, grabbed the timeline, and dove in with only one thought on his mind.

Mobius.

Mobius.

Mobius.

He opened his eyes and found himself on a beach, facing the sea.

But he was immediately oblivious to everything around him, for all he could see was the familiar figure standing in front of him with his back to him.

He quickly used magic to change his clothes into something more appropriate, and barefoot he approached in silence, restraining himself from running.

Suddenly, he heard Mobius' voice, almost a whisper in the night, "Loki..."

Loki replied softly, "I'm here."

"So old Loki is replacing you and keeping the time flow going?"

On Mobius' sofa, their hands still intertwined, Loki nodded. Mobius asked again, slightly hesitant, "And... it's permanent?"

Loki shook his head and replied in a slightly contrite tone, "No, I wouldn't be able to do that to him, and I don't want to let go of that responsibility. I hope you understand that, Mobius."

Mobius looked at him with an expression that was a mixture of pride and wonder and said quietly, "When I told you that you could be whatever or whoever you wanted to be, I wasn't thinking about this."

Loki laughed slightly and replied, "I know that, but that's part of it. You showed me that I could choose my own destiny. That's what I did."

Mobius lost his smile and asked, "Does that mean you're leaving again?"

Loki, sensing the vulnerability of the other man behind his question, asked softly in reply, "What do you want? Do you want me to stay?"

Mobius shook his head sharply and replied, "I have no right to ask you that! Your task is far more important, Loki."

Mobius didn't say more important than himself, but Loki heard it anyway.

He looked at him fondly and said softly, "Idiot. I know what I want. But I also want to know what you want, Mobius. Not what your conscience or your scruples tell you to say because you think that's what I want to hear. So I repeat, what do you want?"

Seeing that Mobius looked confused, he added, "You have the right to say what you want. Free will is about that too. It's not about looking at jet ski magazines and thinking they're great, but not allowing yourself to ride them because it's not appropriate. Tell me what you want, Mobius."

He watched Mobius open and close his mouth several times, seeing his inner struggle so clearly because he'd been through it himself not so long ago.

"I want my friends back. I don't wanna be alone."

It had torn his guts out to say those simple words, so yes, he understood exactly how Mobius felt right now. So he gently stroked the back of his hand with his thumb, "Come on, Mobius. Let go. Tell me. I promise I'll take it all."

Suddenly, Mobius took a deep breath and said in a weak voice, "I want you to stay."

Loki let out a sigh of relief and, squeezing Mobius' hand in his own, replied gently, "Well done. Now, do you want to hear what I want?"

Mobius nodded slowly, and Loki replied, still gently, "I want to stay too."

"But... the flow of time, the timelines..."

Loki replied calmly, "The elder Loki has offered me the opportunity to share this burden, he has generously told me to take all the time I need. I'll do it, but I should also come back sometime, I already have an idea of what we can do, so if you can accept some time apart, I..."

Mobius interrupted, "I can, if it means seeing you again."

Loki's smile widened as he replied, "Then I only have one question left."

"What's that?"

"May I stay here?"

Realizing the implication of Loki's question, Mobius didn't answer immediately and looked at their intertwined hands, then looked up and asked Loki, pointing at their hands, "What's that?"

Loki replied quietly, "What do you want it to be?"

Mobius breathed, "I don't know."

"That's all right. We don't have to decide now. We have something we didn't have before. We have time."

Mobius looked so lost as he replied, "Having so many choices, so many possibilities, it's both exhilarating and suffocating at the same time. I realize that I haven't stopped to think about what I really want since I've been here. I've never had to before. Now that I can, it's like I have a variant to catch, and I have so many leads I don't know which one to follow." 

Loki put his hand on Mobius' shoulder and said softly, "Mobius, it's normal. Just give it time. You don't have to decide what you want to do or be right now."

Mobius sighed and replied, "To answer your question, of course you can stay here, I have a guest room and... well, unless you want to... huh... I mean..."

Loki chuckled softly and said, "The guest room is perfect. We know how to fight side by side, we know how to work side by side, now we just have to learn how to lo... live side by side."

He could tell from Mobius' slight gasp that his slip of the tongue had not gone unnoticed. He shouldn't be too hasty; he had lived through enough centenaries to know how he felt about Mobius, and while he had an idea of how Mobius felt about him, they had time to put it into words.

Now was not the time.

He slid his hand from Mobius' shoulder to his cheek and cupped the other man's face between his hands, slowly bringing his closer and asking softly, "May I...?"

Mobius breathed, "...yes."

That was all it took for Loki to close the remaining distance between them and gently press his lips to Mobius'.

The kiss was incredibly soft, almost chaste, and lingered, deepening their connection, their lips learning each other.

When they parted to catch their breath, Loki pressed another kiss to Mobius' forehead before wrapping his arms around him and pulling him against his chest.

He whispered into the gray hair, "I don't know any more than you do, you know? This is as new territory for me as it is for you."

Mobius wrapped his arms around him and replied softly against Loki's chest, "We'll just have to figure it out as we go along."

Loki hummed approvingly. 

True, there was so much to figure out, but now they had the time to do it.

One choice at a time

One step at a time.

As long as they did it together.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Timeless Growing love : here (After season 2)

Lokius masterlist : here

[its-in-the-woods]

Life's to short Chapter 1 (completed)

Cooper howard/The Ghoul x Lucy Maclean

Post end of season 1

Not beta.. I tried to edit 🫠

Ninety five percent written just tweaking

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

There will be canonically typical violence and eventually smut

+18 only

Slow burn sorta kinda

Please be nice this my first fic in almost a decade 🫣

Will eventually post on AO3 once I can get access... or where suggested 🤷🏻‍♂️

The sand blew past them as they marched forward along the rolling dunes. It had been, what, seven days since they left the observatory. Seven days of traveling east, well, eastish. The hound with them had the scent of old Daddy Maclean, a stuck bleeding pig in a half-dead power armor. A slick smile spread across his face, unless that piggy had a spare fusion core he wouldn’t be too far ahead. The sooner they got to him the better, not that the company was bad. Miss Chatterbox had actually been quiet. It was almost unnervingly so. He didn’t think the little slip of things could keep her mouth quiet for so long. The dog had made more damn noise than she did. Then again the Ghoul thought she had had the rug pulled right from under her. Went from a blushing bride to a finger-biting, venom-filled, killing machine. If the Super Duper Mart was any indication the little lady was a fighter. Another smile crossed his face as he glanced back at his companion. The Smooth skin had grabbed a poncho and pair of goggles off a dead traveler. He had pointed it out to her when they walked by, she hadn't even wrinkled her nose at it. Her skin was deeply tanned, pocket marked full of sun blister, and vault shoes traded in for something a bit more heavily soiled. Yet she was still so different from anything else out there. The Ghoul had tried to persuade her into giving up the vault suit but she hadn't budged yet.  The blue and yellow suit, even heavily soiled, stood out like a sore thumb up here.

The first few days he had watched her fall, stumble and tumble all over the damn sand. It had caused a few coughing-fitted laughs, she was nothing but stubborn. Learning quickly how to walk on the slippery slopes and getting good boots helped. She barely ate and drank sips here and there. Her once sparkling eyes seemed hollow, the brightness sucked out of them. It was better that way, the Ghoul mulled. She needed to be hollowed out a bit, the spark stamped out some. If Lucy was going to make it top side she needed to be a little harder. Have a little more grit and grime smeared on her. His mind wandered a bit, as minds tend to do on long walks. The look of determination as she mercy killed her Mom, the look now on her face as she marched behind him. It stirred things, things that should have been long dead. But Ghouls were after all base creatures and somewhat humans. He had been stuck in a damn coffin for thirty years. It had been a long damn time since he felt anything soft. The thought of the feel of her face under his hand, then the pain as she bit him. If he lingered on that thought too long it was viable to make for an awkward evening. Not that Vaultie would have any interest in his ugly mug.

A half-ass lean too came into view, a perfect spot to let the Vaultie rest. He could have continued through the night, but she wasn't used to this, so some creature comforts were needed. He sent Dogmeat out to get her own dinner as they walked closer to the place. They both split in different directions circling the place to make sure nothing was hiding out behind the shanty. A custom they had both gotten used to, making sure the place was secure before going in. They met at the back, damn she did look tired. She had pushed the goggles up into her black hair, eyes with dark circles looking back at him. 

He gestured with one leather-clad hand, “Ladies first,”

She rolled her eyes but went inside the little hut, dropping her bag and then herself onto the floor. At least what passed as a floor, was more sand than wood. The Ghoul had made sure Lucy had grabbed a bag, he certainly wasn't carrying all the goods considering she was the one who needed most of it. He also dropped his saddlebag onto the ground stretching his back a bit. He plunked down on the floor digging into the bag he pulled out his cantine of water and took a quick draw of it. Lucy’s arms were draped over her knees, ridiculously large eyes staring out into nothing. 

“You need to eat, and get some water in ya,” The Ghoul tapped her foot with his own.

She barely moved, just staring straight ahead. The Ghoul sighed and rummaged through his bag finding a can of Cram. He shook it against his ear, “Should be okay,” 

Tossing it, so it landed between her legs. She blinked and reached forward grabbing at the can. She cracked it open and stared at the half-dehydrated meat, before reaching in with her fingers and scooping some out. Less than two weeks ago she would have made a face and asked for a fork before touching the stuff. Good girl he mused. 

The Ghoul had stared far too long as he watched her fingers go into her mouth. Her pink tongue poked out to lick away the residue. The slightly purple-gray finger roved around in the tin before she looked up at him. He turned his eyes away, grabbing his can and opening it. The heat burning in his guts pushed down. Yep, it had been way too long. He wasn't stupid enough to stay around to let that heat fester itself into a fire. The girl had been through enough without his dick getting in the way.

“I’ll take the first watch,” Ghoul grumbled and pushed himself up and out of the opening in the wall without another glance. 

****

Lucy watches the Ghoul swish out the door like some leather-clad shadow. She had seen the way his eyes had watched her eat the food. Those gold-colored eyes blown open almost black. It wasn’t the first time she had caught him looking at her. It wasn’t the same way he had looked at her when they first met. The way he sneered down at her like she was less than a roach-slime on his boot. No, this was different. Something was different. Lucy’s mind swept back to her Dad, the piece of crud he was, trying to walk off in a stolen suit of armor. The look on the Ghoul’s face as he realized who it was. The way his eyes had widened with rage, the venom in his voice as he demanded to know where his family was. Two hundred years. He had been around since before the bombs dropped. All he had wanted was his family. 

Lucy could understand, well sorta, she didn’t have answers about her own life. A life that was one big fat mutated lie. She threw the empty can at the wall watching it bounce onto the sand. The last seven days she’d been stuck in her head. Remembering her bother Norm as she left. Wondering how the vault was fairing. Would she ever see them again? Lucy knew the journey ahead could possibly kill her. Actually, the possibility of her dying was high on the list. Surprisingly she didn’t fear death anymore. Death was an easy solution. There was far worse thing than death, she had learned that the hard way. Now sitting here thinking of how the sun had scorched her as she stumbled across ground that felt more like heavy water, not that it was any better at night. Even wrapped in the poncho and sleeping bag she would still feel cold in her bones for hours after she got up. Hot tears were pouring out of her eyes, this stupid wasteland, with its stupid sand, and stupid cruel people. It was all a lie. Their vault was never coming to repopulate America. What even was America? What was any of this? What was she even doing? 

She wiped her eyes and stood up. Lucy wanted answers and she wanted them now, and who better to answer them than the two hundred-plus-year-old butthole sitting outside looking up at the stars. Stopping, she watched him for a moment. Dogmeat was lying beside him, parts of some kind of dead animal beside her. The Ghoul was just staring up at the night sky. Lucy turned and looked up. In all the time, traveling this wretched wasteland, she had never stopped to look up at the sky. Millions of bright twinkling specks lit the sky as the moon crested over the range of ravaged mountains. It was beautiful.

“Guess you’ve never seen the stars before?” Ghoul questioned. Of course, he’d have heard her move, the man, creature, whatever he was, had scarily good perception.

“I never stopped to look at them before. I’ve seen pictures. Movies. But it’s so bright.” 

“Nothin’ better than in person,” He drawled sucking back on a cigarette he had nabbed off another dead traveler. Lucy wondered what it tasted like, and for some reason what the Ghoul would taste like.

She walked over and sat down beside him. Lucy wouldn’t have had very many nice things to say about the Ghoul. But he was all she had. Legitimately. Maybe, Maximus would live, he would come looking for her. But at this very moment, the only thing keeping her from walking into a Radroach den was him. Whatever he thought of her, she didn’t really care. So they sat there looking up at the stars watching the moon move across the night sky. 

She looked over at the Ghoul. He raised his brow, as he sucked back on the cigarette. 

“Could I try that?” Lucy asked bluntly, really there was no need for pleasantries between them. 

He crooked a smile at her handing her the cigarette. “You sure Vaultie? Things can be addictive.”

Lucy placed it between her lips taking a deep drag like she had seen him do. A cough immediately followed as she tried to blow smoke out. The stuff was awful.

Coughing and sputtering she handed the blunt back to the Ghoul. Who of course was laughing at her, as he took it back.

“Little too deep there Ms. MacLean.” He chuckled, taking another suck, his eyes constantly watching her.

Lucy caught her breath and felt a slight buzz start at her temples. She accepted the smoke when he handed it back. Taking a smaller breath was much more pleasant, even if it tasted like ash. The buzz wasn't horrible though.

“Well, I'd never guess Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes would like a smoke.” The man smiled wide, those eyes glistening in the start light.

Lucy shrugged looking up at the stars, before staring right back at him. “Life seems too short not to try new things.”

He may have been a two-century-old Ghoul but he didn't scare her anymore. There were much worse things out in the wastes.

*Hope you enjoyed the read*

Chapter two here

[girl-in-the-chairs-void]

Heart rates and late night calls

Pairing; Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x reader, Javy 'Coyote' Machado x reader (platonic), Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x reader (platonic)

w.c; 1.7k (i am SO SO SORRY for the short length of this chapter)

Warnings; night terrors/nightmares, angst, mentions of death, a few mental health issues, i think that's it...? let me know if i missed anything!!

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“Come on, slow poke! Aren’t you meant to be the fastest pilot?” your hair stuck to the sides of your face as you ran along the shore. Crushing your bare feet into the wet sand and taking them just as swiftly, laughing as you tipped your head back. 

“Hey! I'm not the one who holds the record for fastest pilot who is a runner! Slow down, Thena!” Jake shouted from behind you, struggling to keep up with you cheetah like pace as you ran through the coarse winds. 

He quickly was able to catch up with you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, picking you up. He felt your chest vibrate against his, laughing. He felt your hands smack his arms and wrists, trying to get out of his grasp. 

“Jake, stop!” He heard you laugh, almost hysterical. 

“Jake! Stop, you’re hurting me! Please! Jake!” your shouts and pleas were drowed before he felt your body go limp in his arms. Unmoving. Unbreathing. 

You laid there, in his arms. Unbreathing, unaware of the man struggling to breathe. He felt like he was being pressed from the chest down. You were limp, unaware of all the life that was booming around him, miles away. Fuck. no. no, no,.

He came to wake with a heaving breath. Chest swallowing any amount of air it could grasp onto. It was a dream. Fucking christ it was a dream. Thank god…

He reached to grab the glass of water on his bedside table, galloping it down within seconds and setting the glass back down. He glanced towards his phone, then to his clock; 3:45 AM. 

Taking a deep breath, he reached for his phone, unconsciously mapping his way towards a familiar contact and pressing dial.

“Hey, it’s J- Hangman, not sure when you're going to end up hearing this message. Your phone is currently turned off and you’re…asleep. Yeah, I think that's a good way of putting it. You’re sleeping. And here I am talking to a voice machine because-” He sucked in a sharp breath, his chest tightening as tried not to let the salty tears that were gathering in vision flow. 

“I never thought myself capable of feeling things like this, but then you come along, throw a middle finger right in my face, flip my world upside down, and have proven me so very wrong on that.

“I’m scared-'' his mouth betrayed him another time as he let your name flow out of it like a prayer, repeating it until he felt like he could say something else. “Please, forgive me for leaving you. Forgive me for being an asshole, I will do anything this world requires of me to get you back, to feel you in my arms, safe, sleeping soundly on my chest, like you were the night of your breakup. Please, please, Athena, i..love you, please, wake up”

He was sobbing. Slipping off the bed and onto the makeshift bed beside the wooden frame, clutching the phone to his chest. He had never cried like this before. Not a time that he can remember from the top of his head. Maybe when his favourite tv show got cancelled because it wasn’t getting much views. He knew this was pointless, leaving a message like this, one that you probably won’t end up hearing. But this…this was pain. This was agony, something he had never felt before. A stab so sharp in his chest that the G’s he pulls during training felt lighter. His heart felt like it was being dipped in acid and then ironed. He didn't want to lose you. 

And in that moment he realised he has fallen for you. Smacked himself right into the massive gates of love, and let himself in without permission.

He realised he is in love with the one woman that despises him.

And he could bet his life on the fact that you didn’t love him…did you?

...

It was after training had finished that all the Top Gun pilots had decided to visit you. Bradley, Halo and Payback were the last ones to arrive outside your hospital room. They were able to catch a glimpse of her, multiple drips and wires hooked up to her, an oxygen mask attached to your face, slow breaths misting up the plastic. A thick white bandage was wrapped around your head but before they could look any further, they were being ushered towards the waiting area by the nurses where Jake and Coyote sat. 

Phoenix wasn’t discharged but was cleared to walk around the hospital for the rest of her stay. 

Rooster currently stood at the end of the hallway, having been the only one who was willing enough to talk to the doctor about his friend’s condition. The rest sat in the old wooden plush chairs, scared that they would end up hearing something that they didn't want to.

You were as much of a good friend to him as the rest of them. He was one of the few that actually has had a posting with her in the past. Both graduated from the academy in the same year. He’s seen you in your element, flying recklessly yet so elegantly that he almost thought your callsign to be Zeus or something related to the god of the skies. 

He wished he had met you earlier, during your early college or training days- when all you had done was cause havoc for the pilots and admirals. It made him think of his dad and Maverick- the name still tastes so bitter in his mouth but he is trying to forget him- the headaches they caused at the towers and it was so similar to the stories that his colleagues told him of Athena. 

“How is she?” There was a noticeable tense to his voice, uncertainty, that perhaps he was going to hear something he didn't want to. 

“She’s stable, for now. Due to the altitude of impact, she did not sustain any injuries near her major organs,” Rooster lets out a breath that he wasn’t sure he was holding as he nods in understanding. Prompting the older man to continue; “However, the material- most likely a polycarbonate- scratched dangerously close to her which caused traumatic brain injury.” 

The pure shock on Bradley's face must have said something because in the next moment, the bearded man ushers him to a nearby chair and sits him down. This cannot be happening, no, its too close to home. Especially for him. 

His heart feels like it is moving to his throat, threatening to spill out. “Wh- what does this mean? Is she going to wake up?” 

The man only lets out a sigh, not sure of what to tell the young man beside him. “We aren’t sure, we will run some scans and MRI’s but that's the best we can do. I’m sorry” patting him on the back, he moves away to give Bradley some space. 

Rooster returns him a tight smile before letting out a long breath. Running two hands over his face to try and wake himself from this nightmare. He doesn't know how long he sits on the uncomfortable metal chair for a minute? Maybe thirty? Before he hears the shuffle of feet, combat boots. 

Peeking his eyes open, he scans through his blurred vision to find his friends, wearing similar looks on their faces, dread, concern, anxiety. 

A single look between him and Coyote is exchanged before he feels his eyes burn, salty tears gathering in front of his vision as he tries to wipe them away. Immediately he feels a set of arms around him, the familiar scent of lavender and sweat hitting his nostrils as he lets himself be surrounded by it. Clinging onto Phoenix, mindful of the bandages wrapped around her torso. 

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” She whispers to him, almost as if they are exchanging a secret. 

Bradley only sniffles into her neck, letting out a shaky “yes”. 

The soft murmur of his voice is heard by everyone around him. Or at least felt. Javy is wearing the most broken look anyone has seen on him. The rest disperse quietly. Trying to find their own way to deal with the surge of emotions that just hit them. 

It’s ridiculous how life plays its cards, taking away the ones you hold dearest away from you in an instant and before you know it, they’re gone. Forever vanished with the wind. 

You don’t wake up the day, or the day after. Or during the week that follows up to the mission. The lack of your presence is felt throughout that time, the pilots were distracted to say the least but every morning the broken look on Coyote and Jake’s face reminded them who they were doing this for. Who they would see, unmoved at the end of the day as they visit the hospital at the end of the day. 

Coyote visited you everyday with your favourite takeout in hand, hoping he would see your smile, sat on the hospital bed, complaining about how your hair looked after two weeks of not brushing it. 

Jake came when he could, he couldn’t bear seeing Coyote sat by your side everyday. Crying as he holds your hand in his. He came when he could because he couldn’t bear to see your face, the face that always morphed into disgust or annoyance when it settled on him. He couldn't bear to see those lips that uttered the most beautiful laughs and held the most dashing smile he had ever seen. He couldn’t… 

Bradley visited you a few times, telling you stories about his time after his academy graduation. One day, something came over him, he ended up telling you about his dad. In a hushed, quiet tone. 

“He was one of the best pilots i knew,” he sniffled, wiping away a rogue tear that fell to his cheek, a few others warping their way towards his scars and down his chin.

“You are the only one that comes to a close second y’know?” he lets out a strangled laugh, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “You are impressive, my Thena, i miss you” he softly takes your iv’d hand in his, mindful of the drip injection attached to it. “Everyone misses you. Coyote has stopped eating, has to be reminded by Nix every night, and even then he ends up eating the takeaway that he brings you after work. 

“Jake…Hangman’s a mess” Rooster chuckles, slightly in disbelief of the words that he is about to tell you. “I’m pretty sure I heard him cry in the lockers yesterday after everyone was gone, staring at a photo of you- it was your official military photo for god sake!”

The heart rate monitor beside him is beeping. A steady heart rate. Nothing. Another day, not a single sign of you. 

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[theonlyonesora]

A Dangerous Game

CH03 - CH05

The night around them grew still, as if the forest itself was holding its breath. The moonlight filtered through the leaves, casting soft silver streaks over their tangled forms. Akari sat astride Tobirama, pinning his wrists above his head, her Sharingan glowing ominously as she looked down at him. A breeze drifted through the trees, but neither of them noticed; the heat between them burned hotter than any cool night air could diminish.

Tobirama gritted his teeth, both from the pain radiating from where she had kicked him and the unexpected tension brewing between them. He glared up at her, his stormy red eyes flickering with frustration and something darker—something he didn’t want to admit even to himself.

"You little brat," he growled, his voice rough and low, struggling against her grip. "What the hell are you playing at?"

Akari’s lips curled into a sly smile, and she tilted her head just enough for a stray lock of hair to fall across her face. Her Sharingan spun lazily, red and hypnotic, locking his gaze with hers. "Who did you call weak?" she whispered, her voice low but teasing.

Tobirama clenched his jaw, furious that she had gotten the upper hand. But the worst part wasn’t his bruised pride—it was the way her body pressed against his, the heat of her legs wrapped around his waist, and the subtle shift of her hips. It was intoxicating, and he hated himself for noticing.

"You really are a brat," he muttered under his breath, struggling to keep his composure.

Akari leaned closer, biting her bottom lip as she held his wrists firm. Her expression was playful, but her eyes gleamed with something mischievous—and dangerous. She felt powerful sitting on top of him, watching the usually cold and composed Senju squirm beneath her.

Tobirama’s breath hitched involuntarily when he saw her bite her lip. A shiver ran down his spine, and he cursed himself for the way his body reacted. His usual control was slipping, fast, and she knew it.

"What’s wrong, Senju? Cat got your tongue?" she taunted, her voice a teasing whisper, daring him to break.

His eyes darkened as he stared up at her, trying desperately to ignore the way his heart pounded in his chest. Her scent, her breath, the way her body pressed against his—it was overwhelming. Tobirama prided himself on his restraint, but right now, with her sitting atop him, it was slipping through his fingers like sand.

"Shut up," he snapped, more out of frustration with himself than with her.

Akari’s smile widened at his response. She knew she had him cornered, not just physically but emotionally, and the realization sent a thrill through her. She shifted slightly, leaning closer until their noses were almost touching.

Tobirama’s breath hitched again. He could feel her, every subtle movement, the rise and fall of her chest, the warmth of her breath against his lips. The space between them was nonexistent now, a sliver of tension hanging in the air that neither of them dared acknowledge aloud.

"What the hell are you trying to do?" he asked, his voice low and strained, though he already knew the answer.

Akari tilted her head playfully, her smile innocent yet full of mischief. "Nothing," she whispered, though the glint in her eyes said otherwise.

Tobirama almost laughed at the absurdity of it all, rolling his eyes despite himself. "You’re sitting right on top of me, brat."

Akari hummed softly, as if considering his words. "I can feel it," she replied, her voice dripping with insinuation.

Tobirama cursed under his breath. She was enjoying this far too much, and it was driving him insane. He hated how easily she could get under his skin—and worse, how much he liked it. His usual sharp mind was clouded, every thought tangled with frustration and desire.

He shifted beneath her, testing her grip, but she only pressed down harder, her legs tightening around his waist. Her Sharingan spun slowly, drawing him in further.

"You’re playing with fire," he warned, his voice a low growl.

Akari’s smile didn’t waver. "Good," she whispered, leaning down just a little closer. "Maybe it’s time you got burned."

Their faces were so close now that their breaths mingled in the cool night air. Every movement felt deliberate, every glance a silent dare. Tobirama’s heart hammered in his chest, his body reacting in ways that both infuriated and intrigued him.

Tobirama cursed under his breath. She was enjoying this far too much, and it was driving him insane. He hated how easily she could get under his skin—and worse, how much he liked it. His usual sharp mind was clouded, every thought tangled with frustration and desire.

He shifted beneath her, testing her grip, but she only pressed down harder, her legs tightening around his waist. Her Sharingan spun slowly, drawing him in further.

"You’re playing with fire," he warned, his voice a low growl.

Akari’s smile didn’t waver. "Good," she whispered, leaning down just a little closer. "Maybe it’s time you got burned."

Their faces were so close now that their breaths mingled in the cool night air. Every movement felt deliberate, every glance a silent dare. Tobirama’s heart hammered in his chest, his body reacting in ways that both infuriated and intrigued him.

And just like that, the game continued—a dangerous dance between tension and seduction, where neither wanted to give an inch but both were desperate to see how far the other would go.Tobirama still felt the heat of her body, even as the cool night air returned to the space between them. His pulse raced, and no amount of distance seemed to clear his head. Akari stood before him, the glimmer of her Sharingan fading, but the mischief in her eyes remained—persistent, playful, and utterly infuriating.

"Come on, have a little o fun!" He rubbed his wrist absentmindedly, scowling. "Why should I have fun?" he asked, arms crossed over his broad chest, his voice laced with annoyance.

Akari smirked, cocking her head to the side. "Because, my dear Hokage" she teased, taking a small step forward. "You act like fun is some forbidden thing. But deep down, you were having a great time."

Tobirama tensed, his jaw tightening. "You're delusional."

She arched a brow, her lips twitching with amusement. "Am I, though? Your 'little boy' down there would beg to differ."

Tobirama’s face flushed with color again, his ears burning. "Enough." His voice was low, warning her not to press further, but Akari had no intention of backing off.

"Come on, Tobirama." Her voice dropped to a soft, playful murmur as she leaned in slightly—just enough to make him uncomfortable again. "Just admit you had a little fun. It won’t kill you."

His red eyes narrowed as he met her gaze, suspicion laced with something heavier—something he wasn’t ready to admit. "And if I say yes, will you stop being a pain in my ass?"

Akari chuckled. "Maybe. But what would be the fun in that?"

He exhaled sharply through his nose, frustrated at how easily she toyed with him. Every interaction with her felt like a tug-of-war—one that pulled him further from the rigid control he prided himself on. And the worst part? A small, traitorous part of him enjoyed it.

"I swear, you are insufferable," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Do you do this to everyone?"

Akari smiled sweetly, the type of smile that made it very clear she knew exactly what she was doing. "Only the ones I like."

His heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, his mind went blank. Tobirama blinked, forcing himself to stay focused. "You're impossible," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

"And you're way too serious," Akari shot back, stepping closer again. "Smile, Tobirama. It won't hurt."

Tobirama let out a soft, exasperated laugh—half a scoff, really—before clamping his mouth shut. It had slipped out, unintentional and far too honest for his liking. Akari’s eyes gleamed with victory.

"There it is," she said triumphantly. "See? That wasn't so hard."

"You're impossible," Tobirama muttered again, though this time there was no venom in his voice.

"And yet, here you are." She gave him a playful wink. "See? You're already having fun."

He crossed his arms tighter across his chest, trying desperately to maintain some semblance of control. "This isn't fun."

Akari grinned, rocking back on her heels. "Liar."

For a moment, the two of them stood in silence, the tension between them simmering—less dangerous now, but no less charged. It was a strange thing, this back-and-forth they had, a delicate balance between irritation and intrigue. Tobirama couldn't decide if he wanted to strangle her or pull her closer.

Akari gave a small shrug. "Well, if you won't admit you had fun, I guess I'll have to keep trying until you do."

Tobirama raised a brow. "That sounds like a threat."

"It's a promise."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're going to drive me insane, aren't you?"

Akari's grin widened. "That’s the plan."

And just like that, the moment shifted again—lighter, yet still laced with something unspoken. Tobirama knew he should walk away, put some distance between himself and this unpredictable woman. But something told him it wouldn’t matter. No amount of space would be enough to stop her from getting under his skin.

As he looked at her, standing there with that smug little smile on her face, Tobirama realized one unsettling truth:

He didn’t really want her to stop.

.

[devnicolee]

Punishment (M’Baku x OC)

A/N: Had a lot of half written stories and most of them are angsty lol but this one is fun and random. First story back in a longggg time. Used an OC (my fav - Asha) but feel free to read it as a reader x M’Baku story as well. Enjoy!

NSFW Warning: BDSM

***

Asha kept her eyes trained on the floor as M'Baku circled her like a predator after trapping its prey. She had failed him… disobeyed him. She knew trying to talk herself out of her punishment would be futile and only serve to upset him farther. So she stood, stripped bare, waiting for him to make his move. 

Her voice hitched as she felt him press up against her back, his rock hard member pressed against her ass cheeks. She wanted to beg him for it, just a taste… a quickie. Anything. Her hips lightly swayed against him, her not-so-subtle attempt to distract him. He had had her on edge all evening, enjoying her torture throughout her date. And she only slipped up, given into her own pleasure, once. But it was enough for her to end up here completely at his mercy. 

“That’s not gonna work tonight, usana. You know why you are being punished, right slut?” 

“Y-yes, sir,” she whispered, his hot breath tickling her neck as he spoke to her. God this feels like torture, she thought to herself. But she knew this is exactly what he wanted. For her to ache for him so much so that she would take anything he offered, including this punishment. And she hated him for it, but he was right. At this point, she would gladly take as many spankings as he doled out as long as his hands were on her body some way, somehow. 

“Tell me.” 

“I c-came,” she whispered, her voice laced with guilt. “Without your permission.” 

“That’s right. Next time, you won’t make that mistake again, will you baby?” 

“No sir, I promise.” She still held some small ray of hope that the sincerity in her voice coupled with her ready and willing body would convince him to forgo the punishment and just fuck her brains out. But he snuffed out that light as quickly as it brewed. 

“Get on the bed. How I like it,” he smacked her ass lightly, propelling her forward. 

She scrambled to meet his order, sexily crawling to his bed and climbing on, giving him the deep arch in her back he enjoyed. M’Baku licked his lips as he stared at her perfect ass. He almost wanted to forgo her punishment and fuck her himself. But he knew that was what she wanted. 

“20. Count them out,” he ordered. 

Asha took in a deep breath, bracing herself. However, the hits did not come. Instead, she felt a finger dip into her pussy, which was dripping down with need. The threat of the spanking had turned her on more than she would ever admit. His dominance, his control over her - it was intoxicating. She moaned lightly as he pumped one finger in and out of her, his finger curling into her g-spot with every stroke. His thumb flicked her sensitive bud as he worked, pushing her up a mountain of desire as he went. 

“F-fuck. T-that feels s-so good. D-Don’t stop. P-please don’t stop,” she called out to him, her words punctuated by moans and pants. She was so wrapped up in her pleasure that she forgot about her impending punishment. But M'Baku certainly hadn’t. 

They had not been together long but he already knew her body like his own, which buttons to press and when she was close to her peak. And he felt it, her pussy clenching around his finger, the sign he needed that she was seconds away from asking for his permission to orgasm. And before she could open her mouth to ask, he removed his finger, taking her orgasm with him. 

Asha could feel the pleasure slipping through her hands like sand, a frustrated groan escaping her lips as all the sensors in her body screamed at her for ending their pleasure early. 

“Why did you st- OW!” She cried out as M'Baku interrupted her question with a loud and painful swat to her ass. “Fuck!” 

“Count. It. Out. Or I start over and you do not want to test your king, do you?” he asked her as he brought his hand down again. 

“No, daddy. I’m sorry! One!” She managed to say through gritted teeth. M'Baku’s physical strength and power showed with every single hit. He alternated ass cheeks and placement, ensuring every inch of her ass stung, that every inch felt his power. She steadily counted, her brain trying to focus on counting as pleasure overtook her. 

By the time she uttered the word “twenty,” she was pleading to be filled. Like a starving woman waiting for her next meal, she felt she would die if he didn’t fuck her. 

“Good girl,” he whispered in her ear. “You’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you?” 

She nodded quickly, “Y-Yes, sir.” 

“I knew you would, my love. I think you’ve earned a treat. Tell me what you want, baby?” 

She felt his dick against her entrance, her mind almost willing him to ram it into her. She wanted to be fucked. Rough. Hard. Now. 

“P-please… fuck me. I’ll do a-anything. Please,” she panted out. 

“Anything?” He repeated as he lined himself up with her pussy. “I like the sound of that.” Without ceremony or warning, he rammed his cock into her, Asha letting out a loud scream, pushing her face into the comforter as he filled her. 

He was not gentle. This M’Baku never was. His strokes were fast and rough, the lewd sounds of Asha’s moans and his body smacking into hers filling his bedroom. 

“You like how I’m fucking this pussy, slut?” He demanded as his nails dug into the soft skin of her hips, knowing her skin would bruise, if only for a few hours. 

Asha struggled to answer or even form words as he fucked her viciously. Her mind was a fog of pleasure and all she could do was beg for more, pant her thanks or moan in ecstasy. 

“Oh fuck!” She cried out as his hand slapped her already-bruised ass, his silent demand for an answer.. “Y-Yes I l-love it. Harder!” She demanded as her orgasm built in her belly. “C-can I come, baby? P-please. I-it feels so good, please!” She pleaded with him. 

M'Baku was no fool, he knew she was going to cum without or without his permission so he decided to just grant her her wish. She had taken him so well today after all. 

“Cum,” he instructed, her body responding to his order as if he controlled it, her pussy immediately clenching around him as waves of pleasure crashed over her. 

“That’s it, baby… you look so good cumming on my dick.” 

Her body writhed beneath him as he continued fucking her at superhuman speed through her orgasm. 

“Whose pussy is this??” He demanded.

“It’s yours!” she cried out, tears springing to her eyes as she became overwhelmed by pleasure. 

“Whose slut are you?” He asked. 

“I’m yours!” She screamed as she tried to muffle her moans and pants into the fur of their comforter. “I-it’s too much, d-daddy… p-please,” she begged, tears sparking up in her eyes from being overwhelmed by pleasure. Her hand reached behind him and pushed on his chest. 

M'Baku laughed, “You have one more in you, slut. I know you do,” he remarked as he swatted her hands away and angled his strokes so he could hit her g-spot every single time. 

A thin layer of sweat covered her body as her pleasure crescendoed yet again far faster than she was used to. Her fingers gripped onto the comforter as if her life depended on it. She loved it when he fucked her like this, fast and furious from behind. But it felt like M'Baku was intent on not playing fair that night, intent on pushing her to her body’s limits. And that was saying something as her body did not have the limitations of a regular person. Soon, she found herself knocking on the door of yet another orgasm, this time too fast to even bother asking for permission. 

M'Baku could see all the tell tale signs of her orgasm, her breaths had turned into pants, her toes curled, and her pussy clenched around his thick cock pushing him that much closer to his own climax. As he neared the finish, he reached around and rubbed her clit, Asha immediately dissolving in his arms. 

Asha’s world went black as the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced hit her, her body giving out from the overwhelming pleasure. She did not even feel M'Baku cum with her as he filled her pussy with his cum. 

When she finally opened her eyes again, M'Baku was sitting watching her with a smirk. He placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder.

“Welcome back, almost had me worried about you for a minute.” 

She laughed, “I don’t think I knew you could make me black out like that.” 

He smirked, “First time for everything. Come on,” he held out his hand. “I ran you a bath.” 

Asha smiled at his thoughtfulness, slowly sitting up before he swept her into his arms and carried her into their bathroom. He helped her into the hot water, the smell of eucalyptus and smoke - her favorite - filling her nose. 

“This is very sweet,” she said, her voice raspy from their activities. “Thank you.” She settled into the bathtub, her head lulling back and her eyes falling closed. The warm water felt like heaven.

“How was that? Was I too rough?” he asked softly. The newly engaged couple were still getting to know each other, still testing each other’s limits and having fun doing so. Though M’Baku loved this particular fantasy and every moment of exploring it with his future wife, he wanted to make sure he had not taken it too far. 

She let her head lazily fall in his direction, a content smile on her face. “Never. It was amazing. You are amazing. We should do that more often.” 

“Good. We should explore that fantasy more often then,” he whispered as he kissed her sensually on the neck.

She laughed, “I very much like the sound of that. Thank Bast, we have all the time in the world.” 

“Glory to Hanuman.” He leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. “I’ll go make you some tea for your throat. I love you, usana.” 

“I love you more.”

***

Tag List: @destinio1 @muse-of-mbaku @jellybean531 @skysynclair19 @ashanti-notthesinger @gloriousgam3r @archivistofwakanda @leahnicole1219 @mygirlrenee @dramaqueeenamby @tchallasbabymama

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! Exploring the idea of doing a short Dom!M'Baku series. Let me know if you're interested in being tagged. Thanks for reading!

[gaster-the-one-and-only]

[ Somewhere in the annuls of spacetime one might hear an anguished cry... the last Blockbuster........ ended............ ]

The dust settles...

Out of the rubble of the Last Blockbuster, a man steps forth. He brushes some dust off of his fur collar, and takes a look around while drawing a deep breath.

He almost has to squint, with how... bright, the environment is. Figures and shapes flicker in front of him- people? Buildings? But it's as if they're only barely 'there'- as if they keep slipping back into a fog.

The man holds a hand to his head, groaning. His fingertips press into his temple, as if he's trying to dig into his skull as a wave of dull pain washes over him.

"... a g h . . . "

His groan echoes, almost reverberating off the bizarre structures looming overhead. He takes a few more steps- what feels like sand crunches underneath his boot. The sensation gives him pause, and he turns to the horizon.

"... A... beach... I'm... looking for... a b e a c h . . ."

He sighs, and all at once, his body relaxes, as if relieved he was able to utter this much. Strangely, the environment seems to 'sigh' with him, the structures bowing and bending closer to him. He doesn't notice this, however. His gaze is locked on the horizon, as his hand drags down the side of his face. It's not so bright, now. It almost looks like... sunrise.

... rather than settle at his side, his hand reaches into his jacket, fishing through an inner pocket. He pulls out a small cylinder case- he flicks it open with his thumb, and a green rod pops out partway. He takes it in his fingers- exposed by the finger-less gloves he wears, there's an undeniable sizzle as it makes contact with his 'skin'. This doesn't seem to bother him, though. Propping his elbow in his hand, he places the cigarette to his 'lips'- or where lips would be, if he had a mouth.

A man stands on his beach, smoking, thinking, watching the tide.

(( 3/4 Commission by @kidstatic !! Thank you so much!

[akatsukirites]

Second entry for @sweetspicybingo - Fairy Lights Narutoverse | KisaKonan | G | ~800 words

They avoid the road that goes through Fire Country. Konoha-nin patrols are too aggressive. Even though Kisame brushes this off as an insignificant obstacle ("I can handle Konoha, Konan-san." He says, reflexively shouldering Samehada.), Konan knows a premature encounter would be unwise. ("Pein doesn't want to reveal our existence yet.") Instead, they take the long way– through Grass, Waterfall, and Rice Country, crossing the border into Hot Water Country. Konan recalls old Akatsuki scouting reports that Hot Water military is only concerned with tourists, so they stick to the coastline. Admittedly, it's a longer journey. They sleep in shifts during the afternoons and travel under a waning moon cycle. The coastline turns to sandy beaches, flanked to the south by forest.

In the pre-dawn hours, they crest a hillside. And the strangest vision reveals itself to them; a sea with glowing, blue waves. Konan slows to a halt. Kisame, following, anticipates a command. She is, after all, higher ranking. The ocean roars to his left, covering up the muffled words that Konan says under her breath. All he catches is 'of the sea'.

"What's that?" He asks, looking beyond her to notice the blue phenomena himself.

Konan turns back to him, mouth hidden underneath her high collar. She doesn't wear a hitai-ate.

"Ghost lights of the sea." She repeats. "It's a children's story– a warning about following ghost lights into the water. They say the lights are the souls of drowned fishermen."

Kisame huffs. He could slay a village full of fishermen with his eyes closed. Nothing to worry about there. But Konan's reaction is different. She turns back to the sea, taking a halting step forward; debating whether or not she has time to investigate the curiosity. The look of awe in her eyes is unmistakable, almost child-like. Kisame has been mission-focused his entire life. Sight-seeing is a luxury he's never been awarded. That was in Kiri. Now it's supposed to be different. He trots ahead of Konan, leading them to the beach. Permission is something neither of them are used to giving themselves; but the sight is too enchanting to ignore.

Glittering waves lap at the shoreline; water teeming with scrambling, blue lights. Konan steps lightly, not used to feeling sand beneath her feet. Kisame does so also, but on instinct of training drilled into him until his skull broke. He bends down and scoops up a light; feeling the soft flesh of a squid. It's tiny. Five of them could easily fit in his palm. Konan looks on with caution, thinking of poison and traps and–("don't follow them into the sea").  But Kisame seems unaffected, so she mimics him and scoops one into her hand. The animal is dotted with little blue lights, chaotically blinking at her. A cry for help?

"It must be their spawning season." Kisame guesses, before popping it in his mouth.

Konan's eyes widen in surprise. Eating a ghost-light will surely curse you, right? But the look on his face says otherwise; the opposite in fact. She looks down at her own specimen, wriggling. It slips between her fingers and swims off into the sea, meeting thousands of others. 

"You know these creatures?" Konan asks, wary.

He shrugs, mouth still occupied with the morsel. "No, but I had a good guess. They're smaller than the ones in Water Country, but they look the same." Swallows. "Tastes better though."

Konan wouldn't know. Rain Country doesn't have squid. But strangely, she trusts Kisame's intuition and appetite. So she gathers a few handfuls of them, sparkling blue in her hands. To eat such a beautiful thing seems a terrible waste. 

As if sensing her hesitation, Kisame enlightens her. "They'll probably die soon anyways."

His words do little to alleviate some harbored guilt within her.

They set up a resting spot at the tree-line, listening to the ocean carry the ghost-light squids to shore. They're too small to spear and roast; and they don't have a konro; so Kisame boils them instead. The sun pierces the horizon. It's as good as any time for breakfast. Konan waits and fishes the squid out of the pot after Kisame takes his share. She eats it whole, examining the textures between her teeth. Kisame watches her, curious to see how she finds the delicacy. It's sweet and rich; briny but not overly so. Like a fat shrimp. If he looked hard enough, he'd see her blushing. For something about to die, it certainly doesn't taste like it.

When they're done, Konan puts out the fire and hides any evidence that they were there. A habit from her younger days with Yahiko and Nagato. The beach turns into rocky coastline, disappearing behind them entirely as they approach the border. Today they make for their allies in Frost Country to resupply. If they're lucky, they'll also get clues for their mission. Konan returns to the memory of the luminescent beach, wishing she could tell Yahiko. She'll have to settle for Tendo Pein instead.

[darkstar225]

Twice's 10th member can't learn the group's comeback lyrics ft 3mix

A/N: Hey guys, I'm sorry for disappearing but I got my wisdom teeth out so yeah- lol. Anyway- I got an ask on Tumblr and I loved writing it, ty anon! :D

The request: Can you do a 3mix where the 10th member is having trouble with singing her part or dancing one part of the song(You can pick) and jihyo(or any member you wants) comes in and help them like soyeon and g-(idle).

PS: Tysm for everyone that reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

In the heart of Seoul, the bustling city that never slept, TWICE prepared for yet another electrifying performance. The air hummed with anticipation as fans from all corners of the world gathered to witness the magic of their idols. Among the sea of faces that adorned the stadium, Y/N's heart raced with both excitement and a tinge of anxiety.

Y/N had joined TWICE as the youngest member, and while the journey had been a whirlwind of dreams come true, it wasn't without its challenges. As the 10th member, she found herself sandwiched between the experienced and the new. Her singing progress had been one of the reasons she had secured her spot in the group, yet tonight, that very talent had decided to play tricks on her.

It was a crucial point in their set, where TWICE's star had a solo line that she was supposed to deliver with the kind of power that could shake an audience to its core. But tonight, the power seemed to have abandoned her. Every time she tried to belt out the notes, her voice faltered, as if the melody had slipped through her fingers like sand.

Y/N's frustration scaled with each unsuccessful attempt. She knew the others were counting on her, and the thought of letting her fellow members down weighed heavily on her heart. She almost stepped away from the practice room, her vision blurred with tears of frustration.

However, Nayeon and Jeongyeon, the unnie duo of the group, exchanged a knowing look as they noticed their child's frustration. They had seen this look before, the one that whispered of doubts and insecurities. With a shared glance, they left their positions and joined the younger girl by the side of the practice room.

Nayeon - Hey, baby. You know, even the best singers have their off days. It's just a part of being human.

Jeongyeon nodded, her expression soft.

Jeongyeon - Absolutely, kiddo. And it's okay to feel frustrated, but remember, you're not alone in this. We're a family, and we support each other through everything.

The maknae managed a small smile, feeling a bit of the weight on her shoulders lift. 

Y/N - Thank you, unnies. I'm just worried about letting everyone down.

Nayeon chuckled, her voice light. 

Nayeon - You? Letting us down? Love, you've already proven yourself time and time again. We have no doubts about your talent.

Jeongyeon nodded in agreement. 

Jeongyeon - Exactly. And besides, even if things don't go perfectly, we'll still be there with you. We've got your back.

Y/N's heart warmed at their words, a renewed sense of determination filling her chest. 

Y/N - This means a lot to me, unnies. I'll do my best!

As Nayeon and Jeongyeon exchanged smiles with Y/N, a new presence entered the scene. It was Jihyo, the group's charismatic leader and an incredible vocal powerhouse herself (I mean- wow). TWICE's angel looked up to her, her eyes reflecting a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. She had always admired Jihyo's nurturing nature and her undeniable presence that commanded respect.

Jihyo reached out and gently touched her kid's arm. 

Jihyo - Hey, it's okay. Can I sit with you for a moment?

Y/N nodded, feeling a lump forming in her throat. They settled on a plush couch, the atmosphere filled with an unspoken understanding. Jihyo's presence was like a soothing balm even if she couldn't even begin to explain how worried she was about her girl, and Y/N found herself instinctively leaning into it.

Jihyo - Is something bothering you, honey? 

Y/N - I... I don't know, I've been practising my part, but I just can't seem to hit the notes right tonight. It's frustrating, and I don't want to mess up the performance! *frowns*

Jihyo nodded, her expression empathetic. 

Jihyo - You know, not getting everything right is part of being an artist. But you're not alone in this. We're a team, and we support each other through the highs and the lows.

Y/N wiped away a tear that had escaped her eye. 

Y/N - I know, but I don't want to drag everyone else down. They're all depending on me.

Jihyo's smile was both reassuring and sincere (kinda motherly too). 

Jihyo - You're not dragging anyone down, lovebug. We're here for you, just like you're here for us. And as for your part, let's work on it together.

With a heartwarming determination, Jihyo stood up and offered her hand to TWICE's sunshine.

Jihyo - Come on, let's head back to the practice room babe.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before taking Jihyo's hand. The warmth of her leader's touch was comforting, like a lifeline in the midst of her uncertainty. As they walked back to the practice room, the girl found herself stealing glances at Jihyo. She admired the way Jihyo carried herself, both as a leader and as a best friend.

Back in the practice room, Jihyo sat beside Y/N at the piano. She began to play the melody, and Y/N tentatively joined in. Her voice wavered, but this time, there was a sense of companionship that eased her nerves.

Jihyo's eyes met her dongsang's, and she smiled encouragingly. 

Jihyo - You've got this, sweet girl. Believe in yourself, just like we believe in you.

With Jihyo's unwavering support, the maknae sang her part once again. This time, her voice soared, carrying with it a newfound confidence. The notes that had seemed elusive before now flowed effortlessly from her lips.

As they finished the song, Y/N let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Jihyo's applause was genuine, her smile radiant. 

Jihyo - See? You're amazing, boo. And remember, I'm here whenever you need a little extra support.

Y/N felt a rush of gratitude, a warmth that radiated from her heart. 

Y/N - Thank you, Omma Jihyo.

Jihyo's laughter was like music, filling the room with infectious joy. 

Jihyo - Omma, huh? I like that. Just remember, we're all family here.

As the concert lights dimmed and TWICE took the stage, Y/N stood among her fellow unnies, her heart brimming with newfound strength. And as she sang her solo part, she felt the echoes of Jihyo's support guiding her every note. The crowd roared in approval, the energy of the moment transcending the challenges that had led to it.

In the end, Y/N learned that even in the face of trouble, the bonds of friendship and the power of encouragement could transform a moment of doubt into a triumph of the heart. And as she gazed out at the sea of cheering fans, she knew that she was not only living her dream but sharing it with a family that would always stand by her side and that made her have only one thought:

I love my dear older sisters.

A/N: I apologise for any errors, English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there's something wrong, ty for reading <3