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8 Powerful Hair Pack Recipes That Stop Hair Fall Instantly
IntroductionUnderstanding Hair FallCommon Causes of Hair FallDifferent Types of Hair FallSigns of Abnormal Hair LossPreparation GuidelinesEssential Tools NeededBest Time for ApplicationStorage RecommendationsSafety Precautions8 Powerful Hair Pack Recipes1. Onion Juice-Fenugreek Power Pack2. Aloe Vera-Egg Protein Pack3. Curry Leaves-Coconut Oil Growth Pack4. Amla-Hibiscus Strengthening Pack5.…
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KILLSHOT !
pairing: mafia boss!toji x spy fem!reader
summary: you're tasked with the mission of spying and killing toji fushiguro so why now are you being fucked stupid in some dirty bathroom?
content: 6.3k, smut, big dick!toji, degradation, praise, dirty talk, overstimulation, orgasm control, orgasm denial, humiliation kink, creampie, dumbification, sucking on fingers (no clue if that's a thing), dacryphilia, oral (male. receiving), fingering, squirting, public sex (it's in a club bathroom)
note: i hate all of you who decided to suddenly make frat boy!gojo take the lead when i basically finished this fic TT (i don't really i'm gonna start on that one as soon as i post this) but here you have mafia boss!toji, enjoy my lovesss (not proof read at all rip)
When you step into the club the first thing that hits you is the heat followed closely by the cacophony of music and voices. The bass reverberates through your body, each thud matching the pounding of your heart. The air is thick with a mix of sweat, perfume, and the faint scent of alcohol. You weave through the throngs of people, your senses on high alert. Every so often, you catch a glimpse of a couple locked in a passionate embrace, or friends shouting to be heard over the deafening music. It's a sea of movement, a blur of colours and shadows that makes it almost impossible to focus.
The music is still pounding and it infiltrates your ears making it near impossible to focus. Your eyes search the crowd for your target: Toji Fushiguro. The intel said he’d be here tonight, but pinpointing one man in this chaos feels like a near-impossible task. You had been tasked to go undercover and take out one of the most notorious crime lords in the country. It had started simple really - tailing him during the day, intercepting any letters or parcels - but now was when it all went done. Today is the day you will finally finish off Toji Fushiguro.
You edge closer to the bar hoping to catch a clearer view. The bartender is a blur of motion, pouring drinks and exchanging money with patrons who shout their orders over the deafening music. You stand on your toes, craning your neck to get a better look across the room. Still nothing. A group of obviously drunk men jostles past you and in doing so trudging on your feet. You force yourself to bite back a curse, keeping your cool. You can’t afford to draw attention to yourself. Not here, not now.
“So many fucking people.” You mutter under your breath as your eyes still search the crowd. You’re hyper aware of the weapon you have by your side, cunningly concealed. You continue to look around, pushing through the crowd as you try desperately not to get swallowed up by the swarms of people. Then, you catch a glimpse – tall, broad-shouldered, a flash of a sharp jawline in the dim light. As quickly as you see him he disappears again. “Is that him?” You whisper to yourself as you crane your neck to try and look for your target once more.
You’re more forceful now, pushing through the crowd as you struggle to move through the pack. Almost there. You just need to get a little closer, verify that it's him. It’s hard to even breathe in the club but once you make your way out of the throngs of people you see him - Toji Fushiguro.
There were always rumours surrounding the dangerous man but they didn’t do him justice. He was even more imposing in person, his rugged appearance making him stand out in any crowd. His dark hair is tousled just so, falling across his forehead in a way that frames his sharp, chiselled features perfectly. His eyes are piercing, a deep smouldering gaze that seems to see right through you. His jawline is strong and his lips are set in a slight smirk.
He's dressed in a fitted black shirt that hugs his muscular frame, the fabric straining slightly against his broad chest and shoulders. He isn’t sporting anything too flashy and if no one knew his reputation they would’ve assumed he was a normal man. You watch as he crosses his arms and the shirt pulls taut against his muscles. There’s a sliver of his chest that you manage to see and a hint of his tattoos peek through. It’s ridiculous but just looking at him has your panties soaking and you know it’s so wrong but you can’t help it. Through the weeks of trailing after him you never thought you would finally see him so up close.
Your heart skips a beat. Target acquired. Now, the real challenge begins.
You approach him, weaving through the last few bodies that separate you. He hasn't noticed you yet. But you know you have to play this carefully. One wrong move, and it could all fall apart.
As you draw closer to him you try your best to put on the best smile you could, one that exuded innocence. You relaxed your own muscles and tried to calm your beating heart. "Fancy seeing you here." You lean in slightly, enough to make it seem intimate, but not desperate.
Toji's eyes snap to you, and for a moment, there's a flicker of surprise. Then his expression smooths into one of casual interest. "Is that so?" He replies, his voice a deep velvety rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. His eyes look you up and down, assessing your frame carefully before he settles on your face. "And who might you be?"
You see the smirk playing at his lips and you’re not quite sure what he’s hinting at. It’s impossible to read Toji Fushiguro and it’s even harder to do it when it’s dark and loud. You finally step closer, closing the distance between the both of you.
"Just a girl looking for a good time." Your fingers brush against his arm. "And you seem like just the man to show me one."
He raises an eyebrow, a slow deliberate smile spreading across his face. “Is that right? His hand comes up, fingers trailing lightly along your arm sending sparks of electricity through your skin. You let out a soft involuntary gasp, your heart racing faster. He leans in, lips just inches from your ear. “But surely a little spy like yourself shouldn’t be wandering around a stuffy club and asking people like me to fuck them?”
You freeze. Your blood runs cold at his words. Silence envelops you and you can’t do anything but stay rooted in the spot. Toji’s grip on your arm tightens and it feels like you’re being burnt by scalding hot iron.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You know it’s stupid to even deny it, not when you’ve so obviously given yourself away, not when you’re not even able to look him in the eye. “I’m not a spy.”
"Oh, don't play dumb." His tone shifts into something much more sinister, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by something much darker. "I've known you were watching me since the moment you walked in. So tell me, what do you want with me?"
Panic bubbles up inside you but you force it down. You can't afford to lose your nerve now. You have to stay calm, have to find a way to turn this around. You swallow hard, trying to keep your mind composed. “Like I said, I don't know what you’re talking about.”
Toji's eyes flicker with something that might be amusement but it's hard to tell. His eyes darken with a predatory gleam. “You’re a stubborn one you are. Never met a little spy like you most would have been cowering at my feet by now but you’re still here denying everything.” His fingers trail up to your face and you instinctively flinch when he touches your cheek and Toji smirks. “But doll you’re forgetting just how often I deal with people like you so don’t bother denying it anymore okay? I've been in this business too long to fall for such weak games.”
It’s so stupid how the man in front of you is able to instil fear in everyone yet as you stand in front of him all you can think about is how his grip would feel around your neck and how his fingers would feel buried in your pussy. It’s so wrong and so unprofessional but seeing Toji up close was something else. He was insanely attractive and there was something exciting about the way he looked at you as if he was going to devour you whole.
“Unless you want your pretty little head to be blown off you better answer my question.” All playfulness was gone in his stare instead what replaced it was cold hard emptiness. His expression is long gone and he only looks at you with a blankness that you’re unable to pinpoint. “So I’m gonna ask you again, what do you want with me?”
You feel your breath stuck in your throat and you know it’s no use denying it anymore but you’re unwilling to give up. “How did you find out?” The tremor in your voice is obvious despite your best efforts to keep it at bay.
Toji smirks. "You gave yourself away the moment you walked in. Your eyes. They were too focused, too calculating. Not the eyes of someone here to have a good time." You blink, processing his words, your mind racing. "And the way you moved." He continues, his voice a low seductive purr. "Too precise, too careful. Like a hunter. Or a spy."
Your heart sinks as his words hit home. You had been so careful but clearly not careful enough. "So, what now?"
Toji's smile widens and he leans even closer, his breath hot against your skin. "Now, we play a different game." He says softly. "One where you try to convince me to let you go. And I decide just how much I want to make you squirm."
You feel yourself grow even hotter at his words and you catch the sight of his lips and oh how badly you want to grab his face and smash your mouth to his. Fuck it’s a bad idea but it’s all you can think about in this moment. And then it happens, you’re grabbing his shirt, pulling him down as you crash your lips to his and Toji’s eyes widen in surprise. You take a second to realise what you've done but just as you pull away Toji’s already tugging you to somewhere else. You can barely keep up as he leads you, weaving expertly through the sea of bodies.
"Where are we going?" You manage to gasp out, struggling to be heard over the pounding bass.
"Somewhere more private."
You don't have time to protest or question further as he drags you down a dimly lit hallway away from the main floor. The noise of the club dims slightly and the music becomes a muted throb behind the walls. You barely notice the curious glances from a few stragglers in the hallway as Toji pushes open a door with a bold "Restrooms" sign hanging on it. The moment you step inside he slams the door shut, the sound echoing in the small tiled space. His lips are on yours in an instant, the kiss fierce and demanding. It’s as if all the raw tension explodes right there and then.
He pushes you against the cold, tiled wall, his body pressed firmly against yours. His hands roam over your body, rough and possessive. You respond just as eagerly, tongues tangling with each other as you reach your hands into his hair. You moan into his mouth and the sound is swallowed by the relentless kiss. His hands are everywhere, sliding up your thighs, slipping beneath the hem of your skirt.
"Tell me you want this." He murmurs against your lips.
"I want this." You breathe as your hands clutch at his shoulders pulling him closer. "I want you."
Suddenly you’re ripping each others’ clothes off at light speed. The buttons on his shirt fall off as you try your best to unbutton the first few before giving up and deciding to just rip it off. Toji chuckles at your fast pace, a smirk making its way onto his face. You put a hand over his mouth, already annoyed by the sound of his laughter and you didn’t want to hear what was going to come out of his mouth next. He reaches a hand up to wrestle yours away from his face.
“You’re awfully eager for someone who was just trying to kill me?” He locks his eyes with yours and you swear you feel your pussy clench around thin air. “I’d say you’re desperate for a good fucking aren’t you doll?”
“Shut the fuck up Fushiguro.”
Toji grins at your response, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Your gaze drifts downward. The dim lighting accentuates the tight muscles that ripple beneath his skin. You can see the faint sheen of sweat, highlighting the contours of his abs, the hard lines of his chest. He takes advantage of your momentary distraction, flipping you around and pressing you against the wall with a thud. His hands are everywhere at once, rough and demanding, as if he's trying to imprint himself onto your very skin. You arch into his touch as a moan escapes your lips despite yourself.
"See, I knew you wanted this." He murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "You’re practically begging for it."
His words send a shiver down your spine and you grind back against him, eliciting a low groan from his throat. "Don’t flatter yourself." You manage to gasp out.
He laughs, a deep rumbling sound that you can feel reverberate through his chest. "You can't lie to me, doll." One of his hands slips beneath your waistband, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin there. "Your body knows exactly what it wants."
Your breath hitches, and you bite your lip, trying to suppress the sounds threatening to spill out. It’s beyond humiliating how he has you pressed up against the way but you can’t deny how much you want the man in front of you. His touch is electrifying and he inches closer and closer to the heat between your legs. You whine when he cups your pussy and Toji simply smirks at the reaction you give him. His hand stays there for a moment and you can feel the warmth he radiates.
“Think you can handle me Fushiguro?” You glare at him although there’s a hint of desire beneath your angry gaze. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
Toji grin, his face leaning close to yours. He’s too close and you have to resist the urge to pull him in for a kiss. “Good thing I love danger then.”
Before you can even respond he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. It’s rough and messy and far from sweet but you don’t mind. You feel his tongue pry open your mouth and you let him in easily. He tastes like whiskey and you find that you don’t mind the sharp taste of alcohol he has on him. You moan as he rubs small circles on your clit, his fingers inching dangerously closer to your pussyhole. He presses his hips against yours and you can feel his cock hard against your thigh. The both of you kiss for what seems like forever. Your eyes constantly shut as you enjoy the taste of him, the touch of him, the scent of him. Everything is so intoxicating that you can’t refuse to want more. Toji is too much to handle but you’ve always liked a challenge.
His fingers finally reach to pull aside your panties, plunging his wet digits into your heat. You moan loudly at the contact. It felt so different to the hours you spent trying to please yourself during the night, the fruitless attempts at trying to make yourself cum. Toji did it so easily, too easily. He smirks as he watches you squirm in his grasp, clutching onto his shoulders as if they were your lifeline. You feel your pussy squeeze around his fingers and he groans.
“Fuck you’re so tight. Why have you been neglecting this pretty thing for so long, hm doll?” You let out another breathy moan at his words. In truth you haven’t had the time to have hookups and your job didn’t exactly give you lots of free time. Most nights were spent on your own, in your bed. “Don’t worry I’ll give her a good fucking today.” He purrs in your ear and you feel your own body melt to his touch.
“F-Fushiguro you’re such a-ahh!” Your sentence is cut short as you feel him curl his fingers and he prods at that spot that has you jolting forward with a long moan. Toji grins wickedly at your reaction. He loves the way you give him such innocent but lewd expressions that he can’t help but want to ravish you entirely. “You’re such a t-tease.”
You give him another glare but this time it’s telling him to hurry up and fuck you because you’re impatient. You’ve never been good at biding your time well and all you want right now is his cock inside you. Toji’s other hand makes its way up your chest, he cups one of your tits and you whimper as he squeezes it hard. You’re sensitive beyond belief and his touch only stimulates you more. You let out a strangled cry when he pinches your nipple, playing with it cruelly with his rough fingers. You feel every crack, every line on his fingertips and it makes you go crazy.
“Tell me what you want doll.”
Toji whispers as he leans in to place hot-mouthed kisses across your neck. You mewl at his touch as you feel his lips move along your body as he kisses and licks your smooth skin. You feel his breath against you and it’s weirdly comforting in a way. He’s so close to you that it sends you into a frenzy. Your hands reach up to knot into his hair, pushing him impossibly closer towards you. His fingers never stop their movements, each thrust causing a jolt of pleasure to sing through your body. You can do nothing but moan as he scissors you open, adding more fingers in as you indulge him in your noises.
“Be a good girl and tell me what you want from me.”
His voice is deep and oh so seductive. You’re sure he’s an incubus in disguise by the sheer aura he exudes. His confidence in himself and his abilities irritate you beyond belief but you know it’s not misplaced by the way he’s making you fall apart on his fingers alone. Your eyes rake over his muscled body, the darky inky tattoos that littler his skin. You feel your fingertips trace each individual art piece and then suddenly you’re falling into his chest.
“F-Fuck off.” You manage to stutter out.
Toji smirks when he feels your pussy throb and drip. The wet sounds of your sopping cunt fill his ears and he doesn’t think he’s ever heard something so addictive in forever. Paired with your desperate moans he can’t help but want more of you. Your pussy tightens around his digits and you try to keep yourself up but it proves difficult. You’re gasping for air, feeling light-headed. Toji notices and he grins at your cuteness.
“You’re so adorable when you want to be.” He sighs as he twirls a strand of your hair. You’re embarrassingly close and all you need is for another curl of Toji’s deliciously thick fingers to bring you closer to the edge. You feel yourself clenching around him, your gummy walls begging for your orgasm but you refuse to beg, not to him of all people. Toji grins at your determined expression, it really is cute how you think you have some sort of power in this situation.
Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his thumb rub your clit harshly, bringing you so close to your release. “T-Toji I’m so, nghhh, I’m s-so close! Oh my goddd-” Your words are cut off as yet another lewd moan escapes your lips. You’re so close and you can feel it. You feel your pussy tighten and your body starts shaking with pleasure. You just need one more push, one final push.
And then without any warning it’s all gone. Your eyes shoot open and you see the smug face of Toji Fushiguro, fingers in his mouth as he sucks them sensually. You see the way your arousal coats his digits as he places them in his mouth, tongue swirling over them. Your thighs clench together as you watch him. He’s way too sexy for his own good. Toji’s smirking at you widely and you would have found it hot if he hadn’t just ripped your orgasm away from you. You glare at him, ready to pounce.
“Why the fuck would you even-”
“Shame you’re a brat most of the time.” He interrupts you, fingers still in his mouth. You scowl at his comment despite having him just inside you. “We need to learn how to shut you up don’t you think?”
It’s so fucking hot how he’s able to get you on your knees so quickly. The floor might be dirty but you couldn’t care less. You don’t know what overcomes you but your mouth is already open when he’s unbuckling his belt and when you see his cock you only salivate more. Toji’s big, that's undeniable. His cock is so pretty, the prettiest you’ve ever seen. He’s so thick and the tip’s flushed pink and there’s pre cum oozing out. He smirks at your awe, bringing his length closer to your face as you watch, pussy pulsating at the sight.
“You look like such a desperate slut. What would the higher ups say if they say you like this huh doll?” His tone is teasing and he inches his cock towards your open mouth and you take him slowly. It’s almost as if you’re in a trance as you feel him fill your mouth. You look up at him and Toji moans as he feels your tongue swirl around his top. “There we go, such a good girl f’me.”
His praise sings through your ears and you feel yourself grow hot just at his words. Your hands reach up to wrap around the base of his cock as you take the first few inches. Toji brushes a hand through your hair and you lean into his grasp before squealing when he tugs harshly. Pain shoots through your head as he pulls your face up to meet his eyes. You see the dark dangerous glint that’s in them.
“You’re gonna suck like you mean it doll.” He growls before thrusting into your mouth causing you to gag as his length hits the back of your throat. Tears pool at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to breathe through your nose. His scent fills your senses and it’s poisonous how much you want him. “Go on then, what’s taking you so long?”
You whimper as you feel his tight grasp on your hair tighten and you get to work. You bob your head up and down, sucking him dry as you moan around his length repeatedly. Toji smirks when he sees you choking on him. He watches as you try your best to take all of him while looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours. He loves the way you’re so obviously struggling with drool dripping out of your mouth yet you’re still so determined. It’s pathetic but he loves it so much.
“Just a nasty cockslut aren’t you?” Toji snarls as he buries you full of him. You whine in retaliation, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you do so. “Came here to kill me but you’re sucking me off instead, god what a filthy whore.”
It’s humiliating and you feel yourself burn with embarrassment. If anyone were to walk in and find the both of you like this that would be horrifying. But you know that won’t happen since Toji probably has his men positioned outside the bathroom denying anyone access as he fucks you silly then again he might not.
“Nghh- T-Toji can’t, hnngh, breathe-” You manage to say despite your best efforts the phrase comes out more like a jumbled mess of words rather than a coherent sentence. If Toji understands you he ignores you completely. He coos as you try your ebay to take all of him. You look so cute on your knees sucking him off that he could get used to seeing you like this.
You feel your mind turn foggy as your throat starts to feel bruised from the sheer force he is thrusting into you with. Your knees have been hurting from kneeling for so long that you have resorted to sitting down fully as you take his cock. Saliva drips from your chin and you know it’s messy and you know it’s disgusting but you feel so horny. Your thighs clench as you watch the man above you fuck your mouth. Toji’s abs glisten with sweat and your eyes trail his toned body. His thighs are thick and your imagination runs wild as you think about what you can do sitting on them. Your pussy throbs at the thought.
“You’re thinking dirty thoughts aren’t you doll?” Toji catches your wandering eyes and his hand comes down to grip your chin. You whimper. “C’mon now why don’t you focus on one thing at a time.”
You nod your head as the tears spill from your eyes. Toji only grins as he lets you get him off. He watches as you let him fuck your mouth quicker as you moan like a slut beneath him. He sees the way your expression twists into one of pure pleasure every time he pulls on your hair and he relishes in the fact he can make you feel so good. He moans every time he feels your cute little tongue swipe against his cockhead, teasing him further to his release. You look up to him with those seemingly innocent eyes and it has him edging closer and closer.
“You’re gonna make me, f-ffuckk, cum if you’re not careful doll.”
Toji watches as your eyes light up at the mention of him filling your mouth and it only spurs him on. You’re so cute and he wants to - no needs to - ruin you. You suck harder trying your hardest to bring him to his orgasm and Toji lets out a mix of curses as his cock twitches in your mouth. You feel his cock throb before he bursts inside of you. His thick cum coats your tongue and you feel the hot sensation spread throughout your body. Toji doesn’t taste horrible and it isn’t the bitter or sour taste that you’re used to.
He pulls out of your mouth once he’s done spurting all of his cum into your mouth and he grins when you open showing him you've swallowed it all. He brushes his thumb over your lips and you feel him swipe the mixture of liquid over your chin. You would feel embarrassed of the mess you’ve made but the sheer neediness of your pussy distracts you from everything else.
“Please…” You whisper, your voice hoarse. You’ve long abandoned any self respect or dignity you have. All you need now is his cock buried in your heat, fucking you senseless. You couldn’t care for rules or procedures. You need Toji Fushiguro and you need him now. “Please fuck me Toji.”
The man in question smirks at your demand. He stares at you, dark eyes boring into your soul. “See it’s not so hard, all you had to do was ask nicely.”
Toji picks you up before you have a chance to respond. His strong arms carry you up from the floor and you squeak when he places you on the edge of the sink. The hard porcelain digs into your thighs, but the discomfort is drowned out by the overwhelming desire coursing through your veins. Your back is pressed against the mirror and Toji’s right in front of you, hair mused because of you. His fingers find their way to your pussy again and his smirk widens when he feels just how wet you are.
“Look how wet she’s gotten.” He coos, flicking your clit a little. “Did you get turned on from sucking me off doll?” His voice drops deeper and you whimper as he plunged two fingers inside, stretching you open. You gasp when he curls his digits, hitting that familiar spot again. “Did you imagine my cock pounding this pretty little pussy until it’s broken?” You can’t seem to say anything, mind blank from the pleasure you’re receiving. Toji’s fingers still and you watch as his expression darkens. “Answer me brat.”
Your lips tremble as you feel your body squirm. Everything feels too good and all your senses feel overstimulated. Your mouth opens yet nothing comes out. Toji refuses to move but your pussy still clenches around him pathetically.
“I-I did…” You breathe out, chest heaving up and down as you try to hold in your noises.
“There it is.” He starts to move again, slowly but surely. “You gotta make sure you answer my questions doll, I hate it when people ignore me.”
You nod your head helplessly, whimpering as you do so. His fingers curl inside you and you squeal at the movement, collapsing onto his chest as you feel your lower half tense up. You’re so close and Toji knows what he’s doing when he teases you like that. It’s so fucking annoying but god does it feel so good. You whine his name over and over again begging for more like a desperate bitch in heat. All dignity has left your body as you become putty in his hands.
“Toji Toji Tojiiii! P-Please I need m-more, please just need to - nghhh - feels good…” You moan out as your hands find their place on hsi broad shoulders, digging your nails into his skin as you feel your hips raise higher. Toji hisses at the pain before leaning in to kiss you. It’s hot and searing as both your lips move against each other. He’s not gentle at all and it only makes you clench around him tighter. “Gonna cum gonna cum gonna cummm-”
Toji pulls away from you, moving his fingers faster as his other hand goes to rub your sensitive clit. “C’mon doll, cum all over my fingers, show me how dirty you are, let me see you make a mess of yourself like a good girl.” He purrs and it’s all you need before you’re spasming around his digits. You feel a gush of liquid spray from your pussy and you gasp when you realise you squirted all over the man you were supposed to kill. You feel your body ache as you orgasm, each bone in your body rattles with pleasure as you moan continuously.
Toji smirks at the mess you’ve made, sliding his fingers out and gathering all your liquid before pushing it back into you. “Such a pretty pussy, listen to how she speaks doll.” His fingers push into you and you simper when you hear the lewd squelching of your spent pussy. He purposefully moves slowly, letting your mouth hang open as you savour every inch he pushes inside of you. Your chest heaves up and down, your lungs burn from the breath you’ve lost. Toji looks up at you, his eyes no longer transfixed on your pussy. “Oh you didn’t think we were finished did you?”
Your eyes widen when you feel his cock prod your entrance. Your eyes lock with his and Toji has a cocky glint in his eye and that’s all you see before your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as you feel him bottom out. His cock stretches you out and he’s just so thick. His cock practically forces you open, prying your insides apart as he bullies his way into you. Tears gather at your eyes once more and they become misty as they fall freely down your face. You feel as though your own sanity has left you as all you can think about is his cock.
“S-So big- oh! T-Toji feels too-”
“Fuck- y’sure you’re not a virgin? Why the fuck is she so tight then? Have you been neglecting this pretty thing?” He grunts as his hands grip your hips. You can only reply in broken whines and it’s no use because none of it makes sense. “Tch, from now on this pussy belongs to me and it’s gonna remember the shape of my cock because I’m gonna fuck you stupid daily, got that?”
His words barely register in your mind but the idea is pleasing enough for you to nod your head frantically. You don’t care anymore what your supervisor would think, what anyone would think? You didn’t care. You’re too cockdrunk to even fathom the punishment you might face once you return to headquarters but all you need right now is Toji to fuck you like the slut you are.
“I said got that?” His hips snap to yours hardly, eliciting a low moan.
“Y-Yes!”
Your head flings back as his cock fucks into you. Each thrust is merciless and he’s unrelenting with his fucking. Toji’s only thought is your sweet hot pussy and how pretty it looks sucking in his thick cock. He wants the sight ingrained in his memory, to constantly stare at the way it looks so mesmerising. He’s pounding into you roughly, dark hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and he reaches his hand up to push his locks out of his eyes.
Your eyes flit to his fingers, the fingers that look so hot and Toji notices. He smirks as he pops them into his mouth, sucking them in front of you, eyes looking directly at yours. You feel your pussy squeeze his cock and he moans and you catch a glimpse at his saliva-coated digits. Your mouth falls open once more and he seizes the opportunity to shove the same fingers into your mouth and you moan too.
You feel the rough fingertips press down on your tongue and you suck. It feels so good. You feel your thighs tremble as his cock pushes in and out of your gummy walls. They have him in a tight hold, one unwilling to let go and all you can do is gasp and whine. Toji adjusts the way you sit and at once you feel his cock hit at a different angle causing you to tumblr forward with a squeal. He grins and buries his head into your shoulder, fucking you even harder than before.
“C’mon doll, you gotta sit up nice and straight f’me, spread those legs and let me fuckin’ ruin you.” His words are enough to have you wanting to cum right there and then but you know it won’t end well. He tugs you to meet his hips and your hands fly to his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath your hands. “Such a slutty pussy…f-fuckk, you’re gonna be my personal cum dump aren’t you? Gonna let me fuck this pussy whenever I want, my hole to use?”
“Mhmm- y-yes yes yes! Yours T-Toji, I’m y-yours-”
It’s so fucking filthy the way your lips are wrapped around his fingers, drool dripping down your chin. Your moans only get louder and louder as Toji buries himself balls deep into your cute little cunt. His cock stuffs you so full and his hand reaches down to press against your stomach to make sure you know exactly how deep he is. You gasp when you feel the faint outline of just what’s splitting you open so deliciously. You shiver from his touch as you feel your desire shoot through your body. Your knuckles turn white at how hard you’re clenching your fists as you sob out moans and cries. Toji groans at your pretty noises, fucking you deeper as he desperately tries to make you moan louder for him.
“Make a mess doll, know y’wanna cum so badly.” His breath is hot on your ear and you feel yourself melt as your pussy finally gives in. You’re gushing all over him, body throttling as you feel strangled sobs leave your throat. Toji keeps pounding into you, cock brushing against your velvety walls as he chases his own orgasm. “Such a good fuckin’ girl- fuck! Keep squeezing me like that doll.”
You feel his cock twitch inside of you and suddenly you feel heat seep into your cunt. You grip onto him tighter, pulling him impossibly closer as your hips raise to capture more of his cum. He floods your walls, painting them a delicious shade of white. It’s a sticky gooey mess between your thighs but Toji keeps his cock plugged inside of you to make sure nothing leaks out. Your body’s exhausted and you’re still breathing heavily and Toji’s still tucked into the crook of your neck.
“That…that felt amazing.” You mumble under your breath.
Toji lifts his head and there’s already his signature cocky grin on his face. He presses his forehead to yours. “I meant what I said, you’re now mine and I don’t care who I’ve pissed off but tonight you’re leaving with me and I’m gonna fuck you until the sun rises.” Your pussy clenches around his cock unintentionally from his words and Toji groans. “You gonna let me do that doll?”
You glance up at him and though you’re already so fucked-out you still want more and you couldn’t care less about what anyone else thought. “Yes please.”
Toji smirks before he slowly pulls out, cock dripping from the nasty mess the both of you have made. It drips on the floor but neither of you care too much. You reach for your clothes, hastily putting them back on. He grabs your hand and the both of you stumble towards the door, pushing it open and the loud bass enters your ears once more. You see him whisper to a man by the wall and then he’s pulling you out of the club. Your heart pounds as you watch the muscled man drag you along and you feel your pussy grow wet at the thought of what the both of you were gonna do tonight.
You know you’ll have to face the consequences sooner or later but you much prefer the latter option.
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji smut#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro x you#toji x y/n#toji imagine#toji headcanons#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen
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welcome to my 2nd smau mlist!! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა
౨ৎ feel free to send an ask to my inbox if u have an idea for a smau (no suggestive prompts for under 18 characters) ౨ৎ
jjk smaus
✿ waiting outside the car for their boner to go down
✿ asking them if they can feel ur 😽 twitch when you sit on them
✿ gun to ur head me or —
✿ posting a thirst trap online that only they can see
✿ telling them you’re ready to try oral
✿ accidentally liking a photo of theirs
✿ telling them ur parents wanna meet them
✿ their reactions to you packing their lunch
✿ them being jealous over ur shitty boyfriend
✿ asking them to join you in the shower
✿ leaving them money after a 1 night stand
✿ calling them bro
✿ their reactions to your weird cravings
✿ sending them ur location bcs they’re taking too long to come over
✿ wearing their clothes
✿ asking to workout with them
✿ when you fall asleep in the middle of sex
✿ asking them to be rougher in bed
✿ recreating a sex scene from a book
✿ when you take a nap and they think you’re ignoring them
✿ asking them how often they jerk off
✿ flashing them and running away
✿ asking them to help you pick out an outfit but the last option is a nude
✿ asking to paint their nails
✿ asking if they’ve ever sent ur nudes to anyone
✿ “i need a hug”
✿ telling them “you have a pretty face, you should let me sit on it”
✿ telling them “you could’ve been nicer to me today”
✿ their reactions to ur teenager telling you to shut up
✿ “hey bitch what’s for dinner”
✿ having a wet dream about them
✿ their reaction to you leaving a toothbrush at their house
✿ when they’re sick and whiny
✿ asking them if they would cheat on you to save your life
✿ txting them “i expect my dinner to be ready be the time i get home
✿ slamming the door really hard prank
✿ telling them a guy friend is gonna fix ur pipes/car
✿ catching them fall on the ring camera
✿ telling them you got in a fight and need them to fight their boyfriend
✿ how they act when you’re sick
✿ them jealous over ur new pet
✿ asking them for help when ur tampon string breaks
✿ asking them what the weirdest thing they stuck their dick in is
✿ when you reject their cooking
✿ them obsessed with ur pet
✿ asking them if they’d help you hide a body
✿ going into labor while they’re at work
✿ asking them what size condoms to get
✿ them texting you after you die
✿ asking if they’d suck dick to save their life
✿ putting a dirty note in their lunch
✿ when they fall asleep right after sex
✿ telling them u wanna try deepthroating for the first time
✿ asking them to say ur name while they do pushups
✿ them asking “what did i do to deserve you?”
✿ asking what their rice purity score is
✿ sending them an ultrasound to tell them you’re pregnant
✿ asking them if you can take control in bed
✿ not saying i love you back prank
✿ asking what they want for your anniversary
✿ asking if they know where ur phone is when ur on it
✿ putting them on a sex ban
✿ telling them ur not wearing any panties in public
✿ showing off ur new nails by cupping ur tits
✿ doing their makeup while they sleep
✿ “hey handsome/beautiful, those tits sure look heavy…”
✿ jumping out of a car in the middle of an argument
✿ telling them you’re nervous for your first date
✿ wearing pheromone perfume around them
✿ them watching you though the house cameras
✿ telling them no to sex because you haven’t shaved
✿ “I wish you lasted half as long as it takes you to text me back”
✿ when you laugh too hard at someone else’s joke
✿ the jjk characters as ur sugar daddy/mommy
✿ period madness
✿ asking if they’ve tried their own cum
✿ when you’re their sugar mommy
✿ asking to tie a bow around their bicep
✿ when they check your location and see you’re in another country
✿ when you give a creep their number instead of yours
✿ telling them they have grey hairs
✿ asking them to chase you with a ghost face costume on
✿ asking them if you can take sex slow
✿ asking if they can put you as their emergency contact
✿ seeing them across the room with a hard-on
✿ asking how they feel about you starting an onlyfans
✿ watching you perform
✿ telling them you’re going to bed without panties
✿ sending a video of your baby kicking
✿ go ahead and leave them drawls at the door
✿ asking them to massage your boobs
✿ when they get caught taking pervy pics of you
✿ accidentally messaging them while talking about them
✿ when they finish too quick
✿ surprising them with gifts
✿ doing silly stuff to them in their sleep
✿ asking if they miss you right after they left
✿ asking if they’ve ever gotten off to the thought of you before you were together
✿ asking them to do a matching halloween costume
✿ “hey short king”
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cw: face sitting, fingering, squirting, slight inspection kink
"c'mon sweets, let me get a good look atcha." logan's voice rang in your ears.
you had been so good for him all day. he asked for one day of relaxation before he had to go on another mission tomorrow with the team. so you made sure that he was well fed for the day, had a pack of cigars ready for him and a new bottle of whiskey in the kitchen.
the two of you spent the day in his room, lounging around in each others arms while he reads and you sit curled up next to him. after hours of you playing with his hair, he decided to treat you for the rest of the evening.
which brings the two of you to this moment where logan's got you bend over face down ass up and spread open for his viewing pleasure. it's obscene the position he has you in. folds spread and glistening in the low light of his bedroom. your sweet arousal holds him hostage.
"please, lo." you beg, arching back even more. "been good for you all day."
"i know you have, baby." he purrs rubbing the back of your thighs. "such a good girl for me."
those few words could've started a puddle underneath you. he's lapping up the slick running down your leg. running his hot tongue over the plush skin.
"prettiest fuckin' pussy i've ever seen." he groans, smacking your ass playfully.
logan adjusts himself under you, letting you sit on his face. he pushes you down on his awaiting tongue, lapping your arousal up like a thirsty dog.
"use my face, princess." logan pleads, holding you down on his face.
"d-don't wanna hurt you, lo." you whimper, feeling his nose bump your clit.
he chuckled before grinding you down harder and licking at your entrance. the second the muscle makes its way past your gummy wall, you can't help but start moving faster on his face, using his nose for your own pleasure.
"oh, f-fuck." you moan, lacing your fingers in his hair and tugging.
logan knew your cunt like the back of his hand. he spent time memorizing every little thing that made you fall apart.
"i'm so c-close!"
a loud squeal slips past your lips when his fingers replace his tongue. fast paced and rough, just the way you like it. filth pours from below, "practically swallowing my fingers, sweetheart."
right on the edge of pleasure, logan flicks his tongue over your bundle of nerves while he nudges your cervix. your hips have a mind of their own as the move across his face, searching for a euphoria that only logan can give you.
a sudden warmth floods your tummy in a way you've never felt before during sex.
"w-wait, lo!" you squeal, afraid of losing control of your own fluids. "need to s-stop!"
despite your words, your lower half only contradicted them. thighs wrapped nicely around logan's head while your nails scratch at his scalp. he's moaning into your cunt, already knowing what's coming.
"gonna- ah!"
a splash on slick covers logan's face, your thighs, and the sheets under you two. he couldn't believe his sweet girl could turn into a fucking fountain just from his fingers. this only further spurs logan on, needing to lick you clean. your thighs tremble and soft gasps pour from your glossy lips.
"need a break, baby." you whine, giving his hair a sharp touch to pull him off of you. or else he would be there all night.
"just a break." he says, moving you down to sit on his abs which only further overstimulates your soaked cunt. "cause i'm nowhere near done with you tonight."
#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett#james logan howlett#wolverine#logan howlett smut#wolverine smut#deadpool and wolverine#hugh jackman wolverine#wolverine angst#wolverine one shot#wolverine x oc#logan howlett angst#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett fanfiction#logan x reader#logan howlett x you#logan wolverine#old man logan#marvel cinematic universe#marvel#mcu#x men#x men logan#x men movies#x men comics#hugh jackman#old man!logan#old man logan x reader#wolverine fluff
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Showering with Diavolo
Characters: Lord Diavolo x GN Reader Word Count: 2.3k+ Rating: Mature/Explicit [MDNI] Tags: a lil fluff, unprotected penetration, outercourse, fangs/marking, gn body parts A/N: Received this request as a comment under this fic so of course I had to write a lil headcanon/drabble about my husband, lol. Anyways, hope y'all like this - I could go on about Showertime Dia forever ♡
-> Typically Lord Diavolo has to adhere to a very strict schedule, his life filled with routine. Sadly, his hygiene regiment is no different - quick fifteen minute showers, six days per week, with the exception of his weekly bubble bath.
-> Most of his showers are quite quick and methodical, starting with his hair and working his way to washing his body. At the end of the fifteen minutes, Barbatos is usually there to greet him with his towel and uniform, eager to get the Young Master's very busy day started.
-> He has probably been gifted every hair-care and body gel to ever exist in the Devildom. But instead, his favorite is one you gifted him, and he is sure to use it everyday. The moment the musky-amber scent hits his nostrils in the morning, it reminds him of you, and he just knows he'll have a good day that day.
-> On Saturday evenings, however, the Prince has a little more time to himself - he pours himself some Demonus and settles into his jacuzzi-style bathtub, the water jets melting away the week's worries.
-> He usually uses the time to catch up on whatever popular shows he's missed, the television in his bathroom being a new addition. You had given him this idea - you told him that 'even the future king needs a little bit of me time,' and he started crafting an Akuzon order almost immediately after you walked off to class.
-> He lets himself drift off into his own peaceful oasis - too often falling into slumber, as thoughts of you turn into dreams. Lately though, he can't help but to feel like something is missing - that sitting in this jacuzzi makes him feel a bit lonely.
♡ "If only you were here with me now," he whispers to himself, before letting out a sigh and sinking beneath the water's surface.
-> Luckily for Lord Diavolo, the stars would soon align in his favor, and the fates would push you two closer together. It all started on a camping trip with the usual crowd from RAD. Diavolo had volunteered to help you gather some firewood - a rather simple task, one would think. Instead this task ended with the two of you running into a pack of wild hellhounds, and getting pushed into a mud pit while attempting to play with them. Barbatos looked rather perturbed when he saw the two of you arrive back at camp, but you assured him that everything was fine. 'Come on, let's get cleaned up,' you say with a smirk to a slightly shocked (and very giddy) Diavolo, your fingers entwining with his as you pull him towards the camp showers.
-> He isn't usually a shy demon, but when it comes to stripping down and getting into this shower with you, he can't seem to keep the blush on his face under control. What started as a nice shower together, washing each other's hair and giggling as you splash each other, ends with the two of you in a passionate embrace. With your legs wrapped around his torso, your lips collide as the cool shower's water cascades down Diavolo's toned back. It definitely would have gone further, had the two of you not been interrupted by Mammon and Levi banging on the door. (He did invite you back to his tent afterwards, so the night was not completely lost. Mammon and Levi were also lectured by Lucifer, 'for their shame and disrespect' as he puts it - but that's a different story.)
-> Ever since that night on the camping trip, your relationship has blossomed, and the two to of you spend as much time together as possible. You usually alternate between staying over with each other - most of the time you go over to stay with him in the Castle, but every now and then you are able to convince Lucifer that the House is clean enough for your Royal Boyfriend to spend the night.
-> The first time he stays over, of course the two of you shower together! You ask him if you should text Barbatos to bring over some of his shower supplies, but Diavolo insists on using yours, excited to smell like your signature scent for the rest of the day. He'll always insist on using your products - a light breeze of that scent helps him get through those endless meetings! (Although it does tend to make his mind wander...)
♡ Showers with Diavolo are always a mix of spontaneous and sensual. One moment you're splashing each other with soap suds, playing 'keep away' with the loofah…the next he has you pinned to the wall, unable to resist the way you look up at him, and he can't stop his lips from crashing onto yours.
♡ It doesn't take much effort for him to pick you up, cradling you in his arms as the shower rains down onto the both of you - and now you can finally finish what the two of you started on that night camping; what Diavolo has been fantasizing about ever since. Your hands slide his damp crimson hair back out of his face, gripping it in the back as your tongues collide. You can feel Dia's thick throbbing cock teasing you, and all you can do is grind against him.
♡ He slides into you so effortlessly - as if you were made for him. Your arousal made you putty in his hands, your tight little hole adjusting to him after only a moment - but you still couldn't help the gasp you let out at his size, your eyes widening at the sensation.
♡ Every thrust in this position feels new, an unfathomable pleasure previously undiscovered. A new high, with no sight of the top. Each stroke hits so deeply within you with an electric feel, the rush of pleasure getting sent up to your brain, overstimulating all of your senses. The euphoria continues to build, and you don't know if it will ever end - if the tension will ever snap.
♡ The rising pleasure within you is starting to overwhelm you, having never felt so full before. Just when you thought you couldn't handle much more, the Prince slides one of his hands down to your sex, massaging you in tandem with his pace. Your nails dig into the flesh of his muscular shoulders as he finally pushes you over the edge. He finds himself following suit not long after, the feeling of your tight hole clenching around him making him unable to hold back any longer.
♡ Both of your moans fill the air as you ride out your climax together. Gasping for air, you hear a knock on the glass of the shower's door - you were so wrapped up in this moment together that neither of you heard Barbatos enter the bathroom. He waited until it sounded as though the two of you were finished before he interrupted your 'shower' - and now he's reminding you of the Young Master's busy schedule for today in a scolding tone, as he holds out towels for you both. Oops.
-> Anyways, you also love spending weekends at the Castle with him - it's easier to flow with his schedule that way. And of course Diavolo is going to invite you to his Saturday night soak; you're his favorite human, his lover, his partner…and it was originally your idea, in the first place!
-> Just know that this demon spent extensive time planning out your first bubble bath together - he had to pull out all of the stops!
-> The Friday morning beforehand, Barbatos comes in to wake up his Young Prince, only to find him already awake and making a rather large Akuzon order on his DDD. Scented candles, chocolate covered hellberries, vintage spirits - he was even considering calling in one of his favors to see if he could get some Celestial bubble bath expedited from the angelic realm. Cost is of no issue to him, wanting nothing more than to ensure the night's success. Barbatos scolds him several times throughout the day, the Prince seemingly distracted and prioritizing his night in with you over his paperwork.
-> When the time comes to set everything up, Diavolo insists on doing everything himself. He even threatens bribes Barbatos into going to Purgatory Hall for the evening - all so that he can do it all alone, eager to show you how much he cares about you. He has a brief moment of doubt as some of the Celestial bubble bath accidentally overflows onto the floor...but you're worth it, and he finishes fixing it all up right as you ring the front entrance anyways.
-> The scene set in his bathroom is so romantic, you wonder for a moment if you're actually in a movie. Abyss flower petals scattered around the floor. Candles set around the tub, the flickering glow dancing against the bathroom's tiles. Scented bubbles gently fizzing and popping, the light aroma filling the air and instantly making you feel relaxed. A bottle of champagne, specially ordered from the human realm, and set in an enchanted bucket of ice next to two hell-crystal champagne flutes. And your gorgeous Demon Prince standing in front of you, gently grabbing your hand to press his lips to your knuckles before he leads you over to the tub. If this is a dream, you definitely don't want to wake up...
-> After the two of you disrobe, you settle into the jacuzzi, and Diavolo gets you each a glass of champagne right after he presses the button to start up the water jets.
♡ It doesn't take much bubbly for the two of you to find yourselves in another heated moment - but the truth was, neither of you could hardly wait to jump the other from the moment you entered the bath's warm water. And now you find yourself in his lap, bouncing on his huge throbbing cock, the feeling of it filling you surprising you yet again. Every new position with the Prince feels like new territory, the way he strokes so deeply within you. Making you feel things you never have before - hitting spots you didn't know existed. This type of adventurous pleasure could become addicting...
♡ His golden eyes smolder with lust as he watches you, every gasp that escapes your lips pushing him closer and closer. Your little human hands grip at his scalp as his own fingers sink into the flesh of your hips. His lips find your neck, and his kisses gradually turn into light love bites, his fangs nipping little marks onto your skin as he thrusts up into you.
♡ "So good...all mine," he mumbles possessively against your neck.
♡ Your moans grow louder as Diavolo starts thrusting faster, taking the reigns as you let the building bliss take over your senses. He pulls away from you to see the way your eyes roll back in ecstasy as his hand glides down to your sex, massaging you in that spot that he knows drives you absolutely wild. Consumed by pleasure, that warm feeling of euphoria washes over you, your orgasm making you feel weightless in Diavolo's muscular arms.
♡ He's not done with you yet though - not even close. Switching positions, he picks you up in his arms and sets you down on the recessed bench in his bathtub. His hand grips under your thigh and pushes your leg up, a groan escaping his lips as he slides himself back into you. It had been merely a few moments, yet he had already missed the feeling of your tight warmth squeezing him so perfectly.
♡ He thrusts into you roughly and suddenly, the bath's water splashing and rippling against his gorgeous caramel skin with each stroke. You hadn't even come down from the high of your first orgasm, still feeling the aftershocks as Diavolo begins to fuck you faster and faster.
♡ Losing all restraint, his demon form slips out only a few moments before he hits his climax, causing his cock to grow even bigger. Your eyes widen as you feel him, his wings outstretched as he fills you with his royal seed - and you can't help but to join him, your orgasm overtaking you as well.
♡ Both panting for air, he picks you up and sits down with you in his lap, still throbbing deeply within you. He wraps his arms around you to hold you as you both catch your breath. Neither of you can help the smiles plastered across your faces, that blissful feeling still remaining as you sit with him in his loving embrace. Your cheek rests against his chest as his rests on top of your head, and he just knows that this is the happiest he's ever been in his long, demonic life.
-> Afterwards, as the two of you get ready for bed, Diavolo can't help the way his heart swells when he sees the way you've settled into his room. The way your things line the counter of his sink. The way you go to his wardrobe to retrieve your pajamas, instead of your bag. It's almost as if you live here in this Castle with him already - a thought as sweet as candy for the Young Devildom Prince.
-> And as you lay there snuggled up in his arms, your face buried in the crook of his neck, Diavolo contemplates asking you to move in with him right then and there. But you've already drifted off to sleep, so that will have to wait for another time. Looking down at you lovingly, his heart feels so full - he presses a kiss to the top of your head before laying back on his pillow, his eyes fluttering shut.
♡ "I love you so much," he whispers as he drifts off into his own slumber. With you in his arms and in his dreams, the Future Demon King can't help but to smile in his sleep.
· demonvibez ♡ 2024 · do not copy, repost or modify · · comments, reblogs and likes are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·
#obey me smut#obey me fluff#obey me diavolo x mc#obey me x reader#obey me x reader smut#obey me diavolo x reader#obey me fanfic#om smut#om! smut#om fluff#om diavolo x reader#om! diavolo#obey me gender neutral mc#om diavolo#obey me gn!reader#obey me gn!mc#omswd x reader#omswd smut#omswd diavolo#obey me diavolo#obey me headcanons#obey me scenarios#obey me x mc#obey me x gender neutral reader#obey me x you#obey me x y/n#ghost writes om#obey me diavolo fluff#diavolo x reader#diavolo smut
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the lamb experiment
a body is given. and it cannot be taken back.
pairing: ghost (+ tf141) x curvy!fem!reader word count: 6.3k summary: the 141 are not known for their pliancy. in an effort to take back control, they send a lamb to slaughter.
cw: (18+) mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dark!tf141, military criticism, unhealthy power dynamics, graphic descriptions of violence + gore + torture + murder, themes of dubcon (but reader is consenting), piv, cumplay, fear play, size kink, praise kink, curvy!reader with hair long enough to hold
You don't think you've ever been the object of anyone's affections, not really. Although you are blessed with many gifts, even physically, you do not see yourself that way when you look in the mirror. How you feel inside betrays you when you look in one, and instead of staring too long, you always turn away.
This time, you stare. Because her ass looks nice, and her skin looks soft, and her face isn't disagreeable.
This reflection almost terrifies you. In front of you lies a woman you do not know.
She looks good. Your clothes are a size too snug, and it squeezes all the parts of you that normally you attempt to hide. Your thighs, the cinch of your waist, every curve you cover up with your uniform normally is on display, and instead of your hair in a standard bun, it lays free. You are anything but the soldier you always see, and just when you think about running, there is a knock at the bathroom door.
You open it, straightening out your outfit, and you look down shyly when you see the face on the other side of the door.
"It's...a little tight," you say, tugging at the waistband of your pants, but the woman tuts, crossing her arms over her chest as she steps back to look you up and down.
"It's as it should be," she responds, very matter-of-fact. "Now follow me. Need to debrief before your flight."
Her name is Laswell. You have not been graced with any other name, and you suspect it is because she wants you to call her Laswell and nothing else. She is blunt and intelligent, and there is no room for anything but the truth with her. If you answer her with a lie, she waits until she hears what she knows is expected.
When you sit, she spreads a few files out in front of you. Four manila folders, three packed with documents and pictures, one with documents only. You reach for one, eyeing the labeled name.
MacTavish.
You open it, and you're overwhelmed with the information. You see a man with pretty blue eyes and a military history that would put your old squadron to shame. Flicking through the pages, there are numerous confirmed kills, no small list of disarmed explosives, reports written by others and himself that even at a quick glance exude something impressive, utmost intelligence and extensive knowledge. You take note of his unique hairstyle; shaved sides of his head and tuffs of dark waves that run down the middle. You acknowledge how much you like when it gets a little long, falling in curls over his forehead.
The next file is equally as large. You flip it over, and you tilt your head to the side when you see a picture of him. He isn't posing, but his stature is one of confidence, and he's gorgeous. A strong facial structure, dark eyes. He keeps his hair short, and his skin is dark, and as your eyes roam lower, you notice the strong muscles of his forearms as he grips a rifle. His skill sheet is no less impressive than his sergeant counterpart. He has been in so many dangerous situations, and he comes out with nothing but scratches; and he seems to be deadlier with nothing but his hands than any small firearm could be.
Kyle. It's fitting.
You look away from his pretty face to their commanding officer. There is a picture of him with the other two sergeants, and you notice how he stands taller than them, but just as broad, and you think military fatigues suit him well. He wears his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and you can see the expanse of his strong arms and his large hands, and you take note of his carefully sculpted beard and the hat he wears. When you flip through the history, you are overwhelmed with the amount of ops he carries under his belt. This man is a war machine. You suspect there is a number on his head somewhere, in some distant country, and it makes you shift in your seat when you realize this isn't someone easy to kill.
He does the killing. And that's all that matters to the Crown.
John. That is the one that has to matter most.
"He's the one who calls the shots." Laswell's voice cuts through your heavy thoughts. She takes the last folder and opens it for you, and immediately you notice the lack of photos here. "But this is the glue."
Ghost. That is the name that sits on the official documents, but there is a dirty sticky note pasted next to it with Laswell's chicken scratch.
Simon Riley.
"His name is redacted," she says simply. "And so is his face."
"He has no face?" You ask, and when you realize how you worded it, you think it a stupid sentence, but Laswell only stares.
"Not one that matters," she responds. You look back down at the documents. He is tall, and you observe that he's most skilled with a sniper rifle, although he doesn't lack confidence or efficacy in any other form of combat. Hand-to-hand, smaller firearms, rifles, he uses them all with a terrifying accuracy, and you pull the papers closer to you as you read more.
"The glue," you murmur, not quite understanding. "And what am I supposed to be?"
"The solvent. The hammer. Whatever the fuck I need you to be."
The thing that breaks it apart. The thing that tears. The thing that makes them bleed.
And so you lie. It is what you do, what you are taught. Laswell is good at it, and you are a fish to water with it. You lie until it comes as easy as breathing, you learn to pretend until it is all you know, and when you create your second life, it is easy because it is the only one Laswell tells you to know.
You are a soldier, and you do as you're told. When your orders are to forget who you were and become something else, you do it, because that is how it works. And you know what you are in Laswell's eyes--you are a weapon, and you gave your body to the state, and she can do what she pleases with it.
And you know, really, what she expects you to do.
It isn't spoken of. She never says it out loud. But when you study the files she gives you, you notice there are more details that what is necessary. You learn more about them, in ways that feel intimate, that feel secret.
That John's favorite color is red. That MacTavish likes a traditional meal. That Kyle has a sweet tooth and likes jazz. That Ghost downs two fingers of Kentucky bourbon to unwind.
They are things to help make them agreeable, you think, but agreeable in what way is up to you.
But red looks good in lace. You've been told the stomach is the way to the heart. Chocolate is supposed to be an aphrodisiac. And alcohol is the perfect enabler--and armed with this information, you will divide and conquer.
Break and tear apart. Separate. Sever the bond. That is your mission, that is what you've been told to do, and you will do it because that is what a good soldier does, and this is all you are.
Laswell's pet. Her pretty little soldier. The hammer to her nail, the bone for her dogs, the string that will mend the ones snapped by her own puppets.
She wants control, and she isn't stupid, and neither are you. When you look in the mirror again, you understand why she picked you. No matter how far her men stray, they cannot change what they are at their core.
Men.
And men are fickle.
You suspect, you hope, even these ones are. They are not gentle, and Laswell makes sure that you learn well why it is they need supervision. She shows you pictures, videos, eyewitness statements of their spiral into violence.
It's not that they weren't war criminals before, but they were her war criminals. Unsanctioned ops, sure, but they toed a line that was drawn for them. But then the red tape became too much, even if there wasn't very much of it for them.
They began to ignore orders. When they were told to stay put, a sergeant would slip off, and under the guise of protecting them, all four would end up in a firefight. And when this became a frequent excuse, they stopped coming up with them. They simply showed up in manila folders like the ones you held, enemy casualties sometimes in the hundreds, and they did not appear even when required.
Debriefing? Their connection was bad. A hearing in front of their superiors? They're on a mark, and they cannot move. And then it was just silence. The occasional response to real crisis, and then back underground, until all Laswell could get from them were limbs taken off the enemies they weren't allowed to kill just yet.
They knew how to disappear. They knew how to hide. They knew how to stay put, come back up overground, and then scurry back underneath where no one would find them.
But that wouldn't do. Not for the CIA, not for SAS, not for either of their governments who soon realized they had let loose a group of soldiers-turned-mercenaries who hold valuable secrets that could put their politicians at the forefront of Congressional hearings, NATO violations, and then in the right mess of breaking off relations with a numerous amount of countries they already held fragile relationships with.
The 141 is a liability. They need to be the ones pulling the reigns again, no matter the cost--and they tell Laswell to do it, and to spare no expense and to pull back the curtain on what she believes might be crossing even the lines she has drawn before, to go beyond it.
She draws this line around you. A circle, a fence, wrapping around you as she molds you into what she needs you to be. She is honest. Not always kind, but honest, and because she is, you want to succeed.
Finally, you can be of use. Finally, there is something that will give you purpose. Even if it hurts, even if it kills you, you want to give her what she needs, because it isn't fair.
You have already given them everything, and you have nothing to show for it. So you paint your face, and you zip up the tight pants, you lie and you learn and you listen, and when she tells you that they will not be gentle, all you reply is, "I won't be either."
Men are fickle. And they fucking deserve this.
You are wearing red when John sees you for the first time. It is in your hair, a bright red scarf that keeps it out of your face, and you know he looks right at you and not through you when your eyes meet.
When he eyes the open door of your room later that evening, you pretend not to notice his gaze when he drinks in the sight of you in red lingerie.
It is the first morning you are with them that Johnny wakes to the smell of something in the rec room. You stand there, at the stove, stirring a wooden spoon in a warm pot, and when he steps in, you turn to see him, and you smile. You exchange no words, but when you hold a tasting spoon out to him with a soft potato and a spoonful of wonderful broth, he can't help the way he closes his eyes. There's a beautiful woman cooking stovies in the rec room, and when he opens his eyes, you are looking right back at him.
And then it's the music that plays in the evening that catches Kyle's attention. They are trailing back to their rooms after drills, and he catches sight of you in your room, and he can hear Ella Fitzgerald, and when you look over your shoulder, he is there, and he doesn't shy away.
And then--fuck--it is so easy.
Wherever you go, they follow. Unconsciously, you suspect, but they do, and you live the lie, and it feels fucking euphoric. You know you've won when you run your knuckles down John's cheek for the first time, and he keens, nuzzling the side of his face into your hand and chasing after your touch.
They are animals. You watch them when you join them on ops, rifle in front of you as you follow them, and you keep a neutral face as you observe them wreak havoc. They kill and they maim, and they sleep like the dead at night, as if the heinous ways they kill do not bother them at all. John points, and Kyle pulls the trigger. John nods his head, and Johnny detonates, nothing but a dull reflection in those blue eyes. John clicks his teeth, and Ghost sweeps.
He sweeps, and he kills, and if it wasn't so fucking terrifying, you would have admired the way he did it. The elegance that he took on an entire room of moving targets, how he never let himself be pinned down in one spot. Whenever someone gets too close, he goes hand-to-hand, and it's fucking brutal the way he finishes them off. He keeps throwing knives in his boot, and they sink into eye sockets as if running through tender meat. He puts blades through their mouths and doesn't let them go until the light leaves their eyes.
You hate that it makes you warm. That there is something deep in your belly, that twists there, that tells you that you like it. When he turns around and meets your eyes, wringing the blade out of someone's neck and letting them drop on the floor at your feet, you don't flinch. You simply kick them to the side and step over them, and Ghost watches as you lick over your teeth as you pass by him.
Insatiable. Fucking hungry. He eyes the sway of your hips, and when he finds his next target, he uses his hands again just because he needs to feel flesh under his gloved hands, needs to tear it apart. And when he feels you watching him again, he grunts as he stands to his full height. He's a fucking bear, and you leave him with a hint of a smile before you turn the corner.
You are not sure if you are pretending that day.
They ravage, and then they go back to their beds, and they wash the blood from their clothes with ease--and the worst part of it all is that you do it, too. You come out of the same places that they do, and your face is splattered with their targets. Your jeans have flecks of brain matter, your hands are dirty with someone's singed flesh. When you finally stand in the light back at their base, all John does is sit you in front of the bathroom mirror and wipe at your face with a warm towel.
He tells you how good you've done. How special you are. How he has never seen a woman keep up with them so easily, fit into their pack like she was meant to be.
He says that you belong, but he doesn't say to who. You wonder, for a second, if he means that you belong to them all.
When you report back to Laswell, you tell her this. What you don't tell her is what you've had to do to gain this status. You don't tell her about the blood you spill. You don't tell her about the bodies you see or the men that lose their faces or how worked up the boys get after an op and how it takes them hours between your legs to lose the adrenaline.
You don't tell her this because this is for you. It's all for you.
They tell you things you aren't supposed to know. When you're in their beds, they talk, and you listen. Kyle tells you about the man they are keeping in the cellar. That he's been there for 29 days, and he hasn't said a word, but that Ghost will be next to speak to him, and he will talk then.
Kyle tells you that it is a mercy that Ghost hasn't visited him yet, but they are done playing nice. When he says this, you have the image of Ghost standing over a man who pulled a gun on you in your head, and you remember watching him with a sickening relief as he pressed his thumbs into the man's eye sockets and pushed they were nothing but squished matter. You squeeze your legs together; and this time, you don't feel bad about it.
Johnny begs for you, his bonnie lass, to keep close to him on the next op because you strayed too far today. He fucks you to make you say yes, his lips on your ear as he tells you to promise him that you'll do as he says, and that if you promise, he'll let you come. So you promise, and he fucks you boneless, and the next day, you are glued to his hip when you raid a foreign embassy for nothing but answers.
You know they know. They don't say it out loud, but you know that they all know where you go at night. One night, you are kneeling under John's desk, kissing the pearly tip of him before taking him down your throat for what feels like hours. The next, you are letting Kyle bend you over his desk, rattling it against the wall as he tells you how pretty you are. And in the morning, you are pressed against the shower wall, Johnny holding your wide hips in his hands as he fucks into you, begging you, bonnie, please--give it to me, tha's it, right there, ye can do it, good girl--
Good girl. That's what you are. You're a good girl, and you do as you're told. You smile, and you keen, and you give them big, soft eyes, and you let them have the illusion of control. Maybe they think they're pressuring you. Maybe they think they scare you. Maybe they think this is why you get on your knees for them or let them pool your pants at your ankles or allow them to have you whenever they want, but the reality is that you want it, and you need it, and this is working.
They don't even realize you've fucked them into submission because they're too busy showing off.
A domino effect. You expect them all to fall once you have the captain, but there is one chess piece that does not move willingly.
Ghost.
He is an unmovable object. He stands still and rigid, and he is a statue that refuses to be pushed or pulled in any direction but one he deems. Even in the middle of the nights, when you notice he is awake, he never joins you when you drink his favorite bourbon outside. He doesn't ask for a cigarette when you smoke one, even though you never actually take a puff of it. He passes by you, and he doesn't look at you, and you are invisible.
You want to be content with what you've accomplished, but it isn't enough.
This is the glue. He is the glue, and without him, everything falls apart, and you cannot fail. There isn't room for it. And maybe you feel bad for preying on the parts of Ghost that you think he prefers to keep hidden, but you need to catch him before he gets too far away.
A kitchen accident. A knife that plunges too deep, that draws blood and makes you cry. You are in the bathroom, tears coming down your face, blood in the sink, and your hands are shaking as you try and patch yourself up. You are loud enough to draw the attention of the lieutenant whose door is only just across the hall, and when he sees you there, he doesn't leave you.
One moment there is nothing, and the next, he is behind you, a pervasive warmth at your back, and you whimper when a gloved hand wraps around your injured hand. Wordlessly, he turns the faucet on, running your hand under the water, and you hiccup, looking away and breathing deeply.
He wraps your hand in his room. You sit on his bed, and he works to cover the wound, and you know he has done this before. Soothed another's tears, quieted soft cries, covered up cuts and bruises and things that will scar.
He kneels in front of you, and when he stands to his full height, you tip your head back to look up at him. You think you will meet a soft gaze, but he glares, and he seems angry. When you open your mouth to speak, he tsks, and your tip trembles as you close it.
"Y'can fool the others," he says lowly, finally. "But not me."
You frown, confused. When you sniffle, he snarls.
"I know why y'r here," he murmurs. "Isn't the first time Laswell has sent one of her little...toys."
You clench your jaw. For a moment, something envious rattles you. You aren't like anyone else. You are certain no one has accomplished what you have, that no one has gotten this close to rock the fucking boat or pet the beast. He doesn't get to demean the progress you've made like this, even if he's figured you out, because you aren't going anywhere.
Not until you get everything you need.
"Excuse me?"
"Y'r a spy. You're CIA's whore, and I don't like y'here, puttin' y'r bloody nose where it don't belong," he kneels, his voice low and gruff, and he reaches over and grips your chin hard. "Y'may have fooled them. In their fuckin' beds...in their heads--" He draws you closer, and you swallow. "But y'r not in mine."
You meet his eyes. They are dark, and they are meant to scare you, but the feeling that runs through you isn't one that terrifies you. He is a magnet--and you can feel the field of his presence, and it has you. This is supposed to be your show. They are men, and they are stupid, and you hate them, and Ghost should be eating out of the palm of your fucking manicured hand, but there he is, spitting against his mask, and it is you that aches to see what is underneath the cotton.
"So, little lamb..." Ghost rumbles, and it is with his entire chest that he speaks. "Wot is it you're here to do, eh?"
You shake your head, "N-Nothing. She...all she told me was that this was a joint operation...CIA and SAS--"
"Y'r on the piss, I know that," he hisses, clicking his teeth. "Joint operation," he laughs, but it is without humor. "Is that we're calling this now? Being barracks bunny for the 141?"
"Fuck you," you snap, shoving his hand off. "You're a fucking bastard, and if you think--"
"If I think wot, eh?" He stands, and you choke as he grips you by your throat, lifting you off of his bed and forcing you against the wall. You grip his wrist, but it is useless, because he's a brute, and you are nothing to him. He holds you there on your toes, and you grip him tighter, but he doesn't budge. Even digging your nails into him doesn't make him flinch. If anything, he seems amused. "Wot kind of trainin' she make y'do, eh? Did ya have to practice? Who'd y'shag to get y'r stripes?"
"Eat shit," you spit, and he snickers. There is fire in your eyes, venom on your tongue, you are a fighter, and when the world is so quiet, fighting feels good, and he knows this feeling well. He understands what it means to be nothing and then something, what it means to worthless and then useful in the eyes of government and government alone.
Because you are useful, but only to Laswell, and only as this, whatever this is. Whatever you are. Pet, prize, toy--it doesn't matter what the name is today, but it will stick tomorrow, and you wonder, sickeningly, if that is your destiny.
To be unknown. To be used. To be the property of what you do not know. To be given, to be taken, to not know and to be content with not knowing.
To accept it because it is still better than whatever you were before.
He sees this. He looks into your eyes, he breathes in, and he hums, and when his grip loosens just enough, you put your toes on the ground, and you lean in, and there you are.
One and the same. Bitten, chewed, spit out, two people who are products of their suffering and the culmination of their sheer fucking will to live, even if the living is miserable.
Maybe that is what it is. Maybe it's what's broken that will put you together. Ghost is the glue, you are the solvent, and you will make it so.
Because I can't fail, I can't do it, I won't go back, I can't go back--
"I'm here for me," you whisper. "I'm here for me, and no one else--" You gasp, and it isn't a lie, not really. You are here for you, this is for you, even if it is at the downfall of someone else. If you need to step on necks to get ahead, you will.
Ghost is the last piece. The last one you need to move. He is stuck, but now you know what it is you need to do, you know how to set the game into motion.
"Ghost," you breathe, and it's soft, it's quiet. You meet his eyes, and you lean close, and he feels your breath on the front of his mask. "It's not what you think."
"You're a lamb."
"I don't wanna be a lamb."
"It doesn't matter what y'want, y'are a lamb," he growls, and you whine, and he hums, and you can see the crinkle of his eyes, and you know he must be smiling. "Tha's wot y'are, and y'can't run away from tha'."
You blink, and he stares, and there is understanding. You are prey, and you belong, but you don't know where. But then you remember you are a soldier, and it isn't your job to know. Your job is to lie still and let them have you.
And to not tell my handler how much I like it.
"It's what they made me," you whisper, and when there are tears in the corner of your eyes, he is gentle. He smooths his hand down your throat, rubbing a thumb over your trembling lip, and you know that he understands you. "It's not what I wanted."
"It's never what we want," he murmurs. "Never."
You hold your breath when he cups your face with a big gloved hand. Dark eyes on soft ones, and you wonder what it would be like to have him. He doesn't keen the way John does, doesn't kneel the way Johnny kneels, doesn't follow and listen without objection the way that Kyle does. No, he's a brick wall, and you need to be what knocks him over. You need to shake the foundation, split it in two.
You need to sever the fucking bond and do your fucking job.
"So when can I have what I want?" You ask him softly. "When...when is it my turn?"
He tilts his head to the side, curious, and you slide your hands up his forearms, over the muscle of his biceps. He is everything you cannot have.
And he is everything that you suddenly realize you want.
Forbidden. Unrelenting. The oxygen to a raging fire. He isn't the glue, he's the catalyst to whatever the fuck you bring to the experiment, and even though you know this will be disaster, you want it. You want it so badly.
Destruction tastes so good. Control is victory. Sex is power, and you want him, you want this, you want him to have you, to own you, to make you see what he sees, because it will be familiar because you are the same.
"Y'r a soldier," he says lowly. "Not about what we want. 's about what they want."
"Fuck what they want," you groan, looking away, and then a few tears slip down your face. "Fuck what they do with us. If I die for them, they only tick some fucking statistic. It means nothing. So why can't I do what I want with the time I get before...before I'm just...before I'm nothing again?"
And there it is. The mirror you hold up. The common ground. The level playing field. The two paths that cross, this is it, I have it, I have it, I fucking have it, I have him, he's mine--
He kisses you. You don't get to see his face, but his lips are there, a precious amount of skin that you're blessed with seeing until your eyes are closing.
His bed is warm. He fills it well, the breadth of him almost too much for its size, but it doesn't matter because he fucks so well. He eats your cunt because he's hungry, your thighs on his shoulders shaking as he laps at your wet folds.
He does this different. John is soft and slow, Kyle takes his time, and Johnny is always eager and sloppy. But Ghost watches. He slides his tongue in soft motions, watching, and when your thighs twitch and shake, he does the motion again. He flattens his tongue and drags it, and when you whine and arch your back, he revels in the way you move. He drinks what you spill, he fucks you with his tongue, and this is different because this isn't just attraction.
There is something about him. Something underneath the layers he covers himself with, under the mask, something that you can see that others cannot even though he doesn't take those layers off.
You know this is true when he's inside of you. His mask hasn't come off, but his mouth is on your ear, and he groans, and he talks, and you feel like he spoils you this way. Ghost never talks. You wonder often if maybe he has a limited amount of words, and he never says more than he has to lest he runs out of them. His eyes speak, and it's more than enough, but now, he talks, and it is a gift, and now you know.
He cradles your head as he fucks you, and he kisses you until you can't breathe, and then when he talks, it takes everything in you not to beg for more.
"Such a nice cunt...'s so nice..."
"Fuck--y'feel me, luv? Right there--" And he presses his palm down on your stomach, and you cry when he grabs your face and forces you to look at him, because he's cruel and he's mean, but his cock feels so good--
And you think it can't get better, and you think he can't go any deeper, and then your thighs are wrapped around his waist, and he's leaning over you, and you think you're forgetting your name.
You forget yourself. You forget the reason you're here. It's so hard to think when you're not yourself, when your mind is in the stars, when everything feels far away and so close all at the same time. There is a place for him inside of you now, and you know that even though he will ruin you, even though he already has, you will never be rid of him.
You've severed the bond. You've made your own.
When he kisses you again, and when he grinds his hips down so nice that your clit aches, you know suddenly what it feels like to have real control. The feeling that Laswell chases, the feeling she wants so fucking badly that she's made your body a weapon, your cunt a tool, your brain the hivemind that will make her every wish come true, you understand now.
You will make the sky blue, the birds sing, but you did not realize the power you held until you had Simon "Ghost" Riley buried so deep in you, that you aren't sure you're even really here anymore.
You gnaw on his arm, your tongue tracing the tattoos there. You taste sweat, and you swallow it, and you go numb thinking about having more of him inside of you. You want to bite and eat and take as much of him that he will let you--no.
You will bite and eat and take as much of him that you want, because he's yours, and you get whatever you want.
Your fingers grasp the cotton of his mask, and your grip is enough to pull his lips off of you, and when your eyes meet, the gaze is different. He's desperate. For once, there is something disorderly there, and he pants, and he wants something from you, and finally you have something to give him.
You fuck it out of him. You lay him on his back and let him look at you, and you fuck him because it feels good, because you want it, too, because it's all that matters. You cry into his mouth, sob, "please--! please, please, please--"
And he tugs on your hair in response, guiding your hips as he loses his composure, "'ve got you...y'r mine...'s olright, yeah--nggghhh, fuck, luv, th's it..."
You do want it. You do need it. You need them, but you want Ghost the most, because he is the piece that does not move. He is not willing to do anything except for the sake of his pack. Ghost is impenetrable, even your pretty cunt isn't enough to change his mind, but that isn't what this is.
This is mercy. Ghost, he is the product of all of his misery. You, you are the result of every man to ever betray you, the outcome of your unwavering desire for revenge. You are the same, somehow, and he knows this, and that is why can't help himself. That is why Ghost is underneath you, that is why he bares his mouth to you and lets you lick into it and allows you to taste the forbidden fruit.
Because he thinks you are him, and he thinks you think so, too, and all he's ever wanted in his life is just for someone to see him the way he saw himself.
When he comes, he paints your cunt and fills you, and you collapse, your body on fire as you come down from a high that takes your breath away. His big hands cradle you against his chest, and you don't move, too afraid to let go, and he kisses your face when you whimper. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and when he pulls out, you gather it up on your fingers and suck. He groans, and he kisses you, and then he sinks back to his knees because he doesn't hear the ringing in his ears when his mouth is on your pretty pussy.
You're just a lamb, it's all you are. Handpicked by Laswell to head into the lion's den, a scarred animal that has no one to protect her, straight to slaughter.
He knows what it feels like. He knows what it feels like to be used and forgotten, to have nowhere to go, to be backed into a corner with no way out, and he pities you.
Ghost pities you because there is nothing behind your eyes except fear. But it's a lie. You're so good at it now. It's a lie, and you tell it so well, and you're warm inside. Not from taking the last moving piece, but from the satisfaction of knowing you have done what others cannot. What others never could.
It's late when you finally settle beside him. He leaves you when you ask for something to eat. You watch him slip clothes on haphazardly and leave, the door swinging shut behind him as he shuffles to get what you need.
To provide. To protect. To shield. Ghost is good at those things, you knew he would be. A man does not nurse a brother back to health without it, does not protect his mother and defy his father without being good at being a dog.
He's a good guard dog. And when he goes, and the door is closed, you smile because the dog is mine, all fucking mine--
You reach for your phone, and you pull up the only contact in it. You type a simple message, and then you send it, and for good measure, you shut the device off, tossing it into the pile of your discarded clothes.
>> we have joy.
You are good at pretending. You can tell a lie without blinking. You have been taught to be this thing, and you do it well, because you are a soldier, and this is your mission, and you cannot fail, and you didn't fail.
When you see Laswell again, many weeks later, she is not surprised to see you covering up with long sleeves and keeping your hair down. One tug on the collar of your shirt, and she gets glimpses of the love bites that have marked bruises all across your skin. She lets you go, tells you to sit, and she smirks.
You smile back this time.
Men are fickle. And they fucking deserve this.
"Good girl," she takes out another manila folder, but it's different this time. When you open it, you have schedules of upcoming ops, intel the boys are working, evidence of their reckless abandonment of order in favor of the chaotic success of getting the job done. You have seen this first hand, you know what they do and how they do it. But now there is another factor, another subject, right in the middle of it all. It is you.
Laswell takes a seat, spreading out the papers, and you meet her eyes. This time it's different. This is the truth, and you want to feel bad for your betrayal, but you don't. The fact of the matter is that you and Laswell, together in this room, have more power at your feet than you know what to do with.
A lamb to slaughter, and yet you sleep with the wolves.
"Alright," she says. "Now let's get to fucking work."
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#dark!simon#dark!soap
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Show Me Pt.2 | Older!Neighbour!Eddie X Reader
Summary: Eddie finds your little treasure chest and decides to have some fun with you.
Cw: established relationship, age gap, use of sex toys on reader, oral, p in v, breeding kink? (Reader is on birth control but not disclosed in fic), creampie, dirty talk, daddy kink, pussy slapping, orgasm denial, anal play, possessive Eddie, soft!Dom Eddie x f!sub reader.
WC 3.2k
Read part 1
“Sunshine, can you come up here?” your boyfriend calls out from your loft.
He had run up to take a shower not too long ago after coming home from a long day at the shop. He won’t admit it but he much prefers your sweet smelling expensive soaps and lotions to his off brand 2 in 1.
“What is it baby?” You ask as you walk up the stairs to see your boyfriend clad in a low hanging towel, reminding you of the first time you had met him six months ago. His wet happy trail lead to that delicious bulge he is packing.
He was standing in front of your bed like he was trying to hide something with his wide frame.
“I don’t know you tell me?” He shrugged.
You could tell he was up to something. You give him a pointed look before he continues.
“I thought we were good, Sugar? I thought that we had trust? but now I don’t know who you are anymore?”
“Eddie, baby what are you talking about?” Now you were worried. What did he think you did?
“We have such a strong relationship, and you think you could hide this from me?” He steps to the side, revealing what is on your bed.
Your eyes widen as your multiple vibrators, dildos, and other play toys are splayed across the floral duvet.
“Eddie!” You rush over, trying to cover them up, mildly embarrassed. Eddie was the only one you’d been with; you didn’t want to scare him away with your collection.
Eddie stops you before you can do anything.
“Nuh-uh, I don’t think so, missy; you can’t just pretend that you have all these tools and not think I’m not going to play, do you?”
A wave of arousal washed over your core at his words. Eddie using your toys on you? That’s something you never dreamed of. However, it’s your most desired need right now.
“I-I-“
“Now, you’ve been a naughty girl, keeping this from me.”
“No! I’ve been so good!” You counter back, only knowing it would rile Eddie up even more, and you could feel his stiffening cock on your thigh.
“I think we should start off slow… tease you until you’re begging for it. How’s that sound?” Eddie’s hot breath fanned across your ear and neck, sending a shiver up your spine.
“Oh-okay,” you stuttered.
“Good girl,” he tapped your ass before telling you to strip.
Your clothes came off instantly, and Eddie’s towel had been hung up on the bathroom door to dry.
His half-hard cock bounced as he walked over to the bed before picking up a small pink vibrator, one of your favourites, and sat down in the middle of the bed up against the pillows. He patted his thick, hairy thigh as he instructed you to come sit between his legs. You crawled up to him before turning around, resting your back against him, and letting your head fall on his shoulder.
“Lean back and open your legs for me, Sugar, yea that’s it.” His rough, thick hands explored your inner thighs as he made sure you were sitting and as widely spread as possible.
He kissed the side of your neck as his hands travelled up and across your stomach, around to your breasts, making sure to pinch your nipples as his mouth explored your delicate skin.
He let his hands roam your soft body a little bit more before picking up the vibrator and turning it on.
A low buzzing filled the silent room before you let out a breathy moan as Eddie gently teased you. He let the little silicone toy glide across your arms, down your cleavage all the way past your belly button to your little thatch of hair that covered your mound, then back up again. You quivered as the vibrator tickled your nipples.
“More please.” Your hand gripped Eddie’s wrist.
“Not yet.” He mumbled in your ear.
“Please”
“No, Princess. You have been naughty. This is your punishment.”
“I’m sorry,” you pleaded. You would do anything for him, your touch, your already-soaked pussy. You could feel your slick, cool against the air of the room, but he kept building up the anticipation of finally touching you where you wanted it most.
“Oh, now you’re sorry,” he tutted.
“Yes,” you gasp.
Eddie’s free hand found your nipple, tweaking and pinching it to his desire. This only flooded your pussy once more with arousal. You could feel it start to run down your thighs as you tried to close your legs for any sense of friction.
“No,” Eddie growled once again, unlatching his fingertips from your nipple and vibrator to wrench your legs open once again.
“You’re going to keep your pretty legs open so Daddy can play.” his hot lip brushed against your exposed throat.
A wet slap filled the bedroom as a sharp sting struck your clit when Eddie’s fingers slapped your swollen clit.
“Fuck!” You jerk your body back further into your boyfriend, only pushing his stiff cock into your back. You’re sure there will probably be a penis-head-shaped bruise there in a few hours, and the thought made you giggle.
“Oh, you like that baby girl?” His condescending tone only made you wetter.
His thick tattooed fingers came down on your pussy once again before pinching your clit between his thumb and forefinger.
You grip his forearms needing something to dig your fingers into, and let out a breathy moan, and Eddie’s cock twitches at your shaky voice.
“I think you’re enjoying this a little too much” he picked up the vibrator again, clicked it on the second strongest level and finally placed it on your clit.
Your hips automatically started gyrating into you as your orgasm quickly built.
“You going to cum?”
“Mmhm,” you nod your head.
“Not yet,” he growled.
“Okay” you whined as you tried your hardest to stay still, you hold on but Eddie was teasing you so good you couldn’t help but feel the need to cum right now-
“Good girl,” he swirled the vibrator around and around.
“I wanna cum, please!”
“I decide when.”
But you couldn’t hold on any longer. “Daddy, I’m cumming!”
Eddie ripped the toy away from you the second the words left your lips, denying you your pleasure.
“This one doesn’t seem to be working,” he clicked it off and threw it to the side.
“No, no, please,” you cried.
“Don’t be a brat” he slapped your throbbing pussy once more before pushing you up off of him so he could crawl to the end of the bed and get a fresh toy.
“No! I was so close-”
“Let’s try this one.” He plucked up your rabbit, and you stopped arguing.
You frantically nod your head as you crawl back, splaying your legs wide open for Eddie. His eyes zoned in on your glistening pussy lips. They were puffy and swollen and the prettiest shade. You watched as his eyes glazed over with lust; you knew he wanted to dive in.
“I know you wanna, Daddy,” you teased, slipping your middle finger through your folds.
“No, mine.” Eddie pushed your hand away and replaced it with his own.
You let your head fall back as his thick fingers ran through your folds, collecting your slick before he pushed it up inside of you.
A throaty moan left your lips and your overly sensitive pussy clenched down on Eddie’s finger.
“Your pussy is so tight, baby, I can’t wait to stuff it full with my cock”
“I need you!”
“Greedy, greedy girl, so greedy for my cock”
“Only yours!”
“That’s right, baby girl, this pussy is mine, mine, mine,” he worked his fingers inside your pussy as he spoke.
“Can I cum, now?” Your eyes watered; you needed it so badly.
“No, Sunshine. We haven’t even started.” He smirked and removed his fingers and sucked them clean before he reached over for the rabbit you had forgotten about.
Eddie ran the tip of the toy through your puffy folds before breaching your tight hole. Once it was fully submerged and the ears were pushed against your clit is when he turned it on.
A throaty growl left your mouth when he started up the toy.
“This one your favourite princess?”
You nod your head frantically, not able to speak. The vibrations on your clit mixed with the thrusting in the dildo made your head spin.
“Tell me how you use it.”
“Wh-what?” You were fucked out already, and you hadn’t cum once yet.
“When you’re all alone, dreaming about me, needy for my touch. What. Do. You. Do?”
“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name like a mantra as he pumps the purple toy in and out of your needy cunt.
“That’s what I like to hear, but I prefer Daddy. You know that princess” he slipped it out fully, and you cried out again. Your orgasm was so close, just ripped away from you once again.
“Daddy, please!” You slam your fists in that bed with frustration.
“I’m sorry, baby girl.” He wasn’t sorry at all.
His cock was throbbing. This was the longest foreplay he’d ever put you through, and you’d yet to touch him.
“I think it’s Daddy’s turn for a little fun.” He sat up, crawling up your body to kiss you for the first time since this little punishment started. He was only a man; he could only hold out for so long.
Your lips were hungry as your tongue slipped past his lips. You needed any kind of comfort and contact from your boyfriend.
You let out a whimper as his large tattooed frame pulled away.
“Now, now, Sunshine, you get to have fun too.” He laid back beside you, and you quickly shuffled your way down to rest between his legs.
You lay flat on your stomach, aligning your mouth with his bright pink cock.
His cock lay flat against his trim stomach aligning with the happy trail covering his belly button. His clean dark hair surrounding the base of his shaft and his full round balls only made his cock more tempting.
Your mouth watered as you grasped it in your hand. Your fingers hardly touch as his girth was so wide. You waisted not another moment as you brought the tip up to your lips. Eddie’s eyes found yours as he gazed down at you lovingly; he couldn’t hold back his smile as his good girl took his cock so well.
“Yes, that’s it, baby, good girl,” he praised as your mouth took him further. His usual briny, salty taste was replaced by floral sweetness as he used your soaps and shampoos not an hour ago.
You hummed as he hit the back of your throat, and it sent a wave of pleasure through Eddie. Your hair was pulled taut from Eddie’s fingers, gripping it in his fist.
As you gripped the base of his cock in one hand, your other travelled under to fondle his balls; your mouth worked its way up and down the long thick shaft before your mouth found his balls. You continued jerking him while you kissed and sucked his perfect balls.
“Fuck Princess, you’re so good at that, my perfect girl. My good girl” his lean stomach clenched as he tried to hold off his orgasm.
“But I thought I was naughty, Daddy?” You pout innocently. You knew what you were doing.
“You were, but I think you’ve shown me you’re sorry.” He shifted his weight to crawl back to the end of the bed where the toys were still gathered. You scanned the options, excited for what he would choose for you next.
“Now, Princess. There is something that we haven’t tried yet. Now you are in control with this, so you can tell me no, but-” he reaches down on the bed, and your eyes widen when you spot the toy he fondles.
“Yes,” you don’t hesitate. Your pussy floods once again as Eddie brings up the silver bejewelled butt plug to view.
“You sure?”
Before Eddie could finish speaking, you’re already on your hands and knees, arching your back and presenting yourself to your boyfriend. You eagerly wiggled your cheeks at Eddie, and he just about came right then and there.
“Fuck” Eddie fucks his fist as he watches his girl spread herself for him with all the confidence and need. “What did I do on God's green earth to deserve you?”
“Probably something realllllly good,” you smirk over your shoulder, biting your lip as you watch Eddie watch you. “Lube is in the same drawer,” you motion to the nightstand.
Quickly, Eddie hops off the bed and gets the lube before he busts a nut by just looking at you.
You hear the hard plastic of the lid snap and the lewd, wet sound of the lube being squirted out of the bottle. The cold liquid hits your puckered hole, and you flinch a little at the temperature shock, but Eddie quickly warms it up with his fingers, and he circles your tight hole with his fingers before slowly pushing them inside.
You breathe in sharply as Eddie’s thick fingers spread you open. You feel so full as he pumps them in and out, slowly spreading you open.
“Good girl, just like that. Relax for me, Sunshine.”
“So good,” you whisper, pushing your ass further into Eddie’s penetration.
“I think you’re ready, princess.”
“Yes,” you agree.
Eddie twirls the little jewel in his hand, admiring it before he gently pushes it into your ass.
“Fuck” you both breathe out as it enters you.
Eddie can’t help but stroke his cock in his fist again as he takes a mental picture. There was no way he was ever forgetting this moment; this spank bank material would last him a lifetime.
“Daddy, please,” You wiggled your ass once more, and you swear you heard Eddie whimper behind you.
Your glistening pussy was so inviting, especially with the little silver jewel perched right atop your needy hole, only making it more pleasurable for both of you.
“Gunna mark my pussy, gonna fill it with so much cum” Eddie finally slipped his cock into your dripping cunt.
You let out a guttural moan as his thick cock splits you open.
“Fuck me, you’re so tight,” Eddie grits through his teeth; he can feel the butt plug inside you as he pushes through your wet canal.
You felt so full, so good, and so fucked out as Eddie started to pump himself in and out of you. He couldn’t believe how fucking sexy you were. He couldn’t be that you let him play with you like this. He could use his own little doll to his pleasure.
He snapped his hips into your wet pussy, and his balls slapped against your clit, only aiding your pleasure. The sounds of wet slaps and moans of pleasure filled the quiet loft. Eddie grazed against your g spot on each snap, and Eddie could see the creamy ring collect at the bottom of his cock. Your slick coated his thick thatch of hair at the base of his shaft, but he didn’t care; he wanted you to mark him.
“God, your pussy is so good, so tight, so perfect, my perfect little princess”
“Eddie!” You cry your orgasm building and building. You prayed he would let you fall apart this time.
“I can feel you, baby; your pussy is clenching my cock so good.” He slapped your plush ass cheek, and that made you quiver. Your elbows give out, and your head falls into the bed below you, only making your ass stick out further.
You feel Eddie grip each cheek in both hands, his whole palm covers most of your ass, and he spreads you open even wider. He loves watching as his cock disappears as you suck him in.
“Fuck, you’re being so good for Daddy.”
“More,” you whimper.
Eddie reaches over at your request and finds the pink vibrator, and flicks it on to the highest setting before placing it in your swollen clit.
You can’t hold off for ten seconds, and your body convulses under Eddie’s touch.
“I’m cuming!!” Your body washes over with a bolt of pleasure rippling through you.
“Fuck, such a good girl, fuckin’ gripping my cock so tight. You want this cum so badly, don’t you? Squeezing me so good, you make sure that I’m going to pump you so full”
Eddie’s hips only worked faster; the vibrator was still latched to your clit, you were overly sensitive, but Eddie didn’t care you were going to cum on his cock again.
“Eddie, please, too much.” You were vibrating along with the toy attached to your cunt.
“You wanted more, Princess, I’m giving you more.”
That condescending motherfuck-“DADDY!” You scream out as your second orgasm takes over your senses. This time, your knees gave out, and you fell flat against the bed.
“Oh, I fucked you that good baby?” He chuckles.
You can only moan in reply.
The new angle tightened on Eddie's cock, and he couldn’t hold off any longer.
“You’re going to take all this cum, baby; you’re going to let me pump you so full it will be dripping out of you for days. Your little belly is going to swell; you're going to carry my baby. Do you want that? Want me to fuck a baby into you?”
“YES,” you cry; his cock gets so good you can’t think about anything else than how Eddie made you feel. You wanted his cum so bad you clamp down on his cock again, and Eddie can’t take it.
Hot ropes of white seed are shooting into your cunt as Eddie continues to pump his cock deep into you, making sure he fills you.
Reluctantly, Eddie pulls out of you as his cock starts softening within you. All you can do is lay there as your body still tingles.
“Let me see you, pretty girl” Eddie takes your leg and flips your effortlessly so you’re on your back and spread open for him to see his hot cum leaking out of your used cunt onto the butt plug that’s still fully submerged in your ass.
“So fucking pretty” Eddie squeezed the fatty meat of your inner thigh before placing a kiss on your clit, making you jerk.
“Oh, she’s so sensitive,” he smirks before placing two more kisses on your pussy before sitting up to help clean you up.
“You okay, Sunshine?” He returned with a warm cloth to clean up the big mess he made of you.
“More than okay” you’re in heaven. You haven’t experienced sex like that before. It was fun, it was hot, it was tense, it was exciting, it was everything you needed.
“Good girl,” he grins as he places a gentle kiss on your lips. You couldn’t believe how good he was to you, and you moaned at the praise.
“Don’t tell me you’re ready to go again?” He chuckles.
“How could I not when you’re so sexy? You turn me on so bad” You roll on top of him, spreading your still-wet pussy over his soft bush and starting to grind down on his crotch.
“Fuck you can’t say things like that. Eddie sits up so he can kiss you.
“I think it’s your turn, Mr.Munson.” You reach over to your toys and click on the vibrator.
“You minx” he smacks your ass, and you get ready for round two.
tags: @edge-just-edge @skyline4446 @nailbatanddungeon @reidsbtch @snowflowersstars246 @eldermayfield @eddies-puppet @blue-slushy22 @birdysaturne @babyexpertlampskeleton @gri959 @starksbabie @bl00d-puppy @xxhellfirebunnyxx @amira0303 @ali-r3n @lavendermunson @fairykissesaresweet @minorlystuck13 @feral-pumpkin-energy @asimpforthe80s s @flawiette @munsoneightysixx @localemofreak @babybimbo777 @elegantkolalapaper @stayonmars @harringtonxkeery @hellfiremunsonn @eddiestans-blog @sp1dyb0y1008 @shadyhologrambanana @babygorewhore
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#older!eddie munson x reader#older!eddie munson x you#mechanic!eddie munson x reader#mechanic!eddie munson x you#Eddie Munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson#eddie munson concept#eddie munson fan fic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie x fem!reader
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MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader (halloween) 👻
a special story for those who intensely asked for a part two
warnings: kissing, cursing, just a very intense luke, m4sturbation (f and m), p in v. (also, luke’s ten times hotter with that skeleton make-up)
The usually cold October night felt fuzzy and heavily hot that night, filled with chatter and nonstop dancing from fairies all the way to those dressed as pineapples. The big party was packed and crowded, the drinks flowing, and the music blasting; y´all had to take advantage of Chiron´s and Mr. D´s permission. You sat on a long table, with your sisters and friends, just chilling and enjoying the good time.
It was good.
It was fun.
And Luke was nowhere to be seen.
You didn´t think much about it though, and neither did you expect him to follow you all night like a dog after what had happened in the cabin, whatever that was. Maybe he was just being a jerk, trying to mess with you and play around with you. After all, Luke was always a tease, a playful one. But he did give you a good scare, it was Halloween after all.
Soon your second drink started to hit you, slowly, but the feeling surely was there, embracing your friends into the same bubble as you. As the feeling rushed through your veins, you suddenly found the table a pretty boring place to be at, and soon enough, you and your sisters found yourselves on the improvised dancefloor.
Dancing was the perfect way to let loose, especially after a long, exhausting day of helping the campers. You deserved it, you thought. This fun, this night, a night-to-forget of all those monsters, Gods, missions, the camp life that kept you so exhausted every day. Everyone at camp needed that break, well deserved one. Just a night to behave for what you really were; people. Some of your sisters already disappeared into the darkness with some pirate, or wrestle fighter, or skeleton, leaving their drinks behind and a secret wink to your direction, or a "it won´t be long" comment for you to not worry too much, and honestly? Good for them, in fact, fucking great for them.
In fact, you were going to have your fun too.
You danced and moved around to the rhythm, the loud music blasting in your ears. Your head was slightly spinning, a pleasant feeling more than an unsettling one, and your body moved smoothly along with the music, letting it guide you, letting it move you, letting it control you and the sway of your waist, the holding of your hand to your friend´s, the laughing and singing. You even felt like you would be able to dance all night, nonstop, and you´d still want more fun.
Until you felt it. Again.
That cold, freezing feeling. The feeling of someone staring.
You knew exactly who it was.
He had found you, like he said he would. No-, he didn´t say that, did he?
"I´ll make sure you find me"
Well-, similar.
It was a little weird though, you just knew it was him, without even looking. You were not going to fall for his little mouse-trap game. You wouldn´t look for him, you wouldn´t find him. Did he want some fun? Bring it then.
But you imagined him.
Wearing his entire black outfit, the leather jacket hanging heavily on his shoulders, and his face decorated with that skeleton make-up you worked so hard on. A drink in hand, surrounded by other campers, but you knew, he was only staring at you.
You kept dancing, not a single glimpse, not a single look to his direction. You wouldn´t give him the satisfaction, no, you would be the one giving him a lesson. And maybe he didn´t deserve it. But oh, poor you, didn´t you know he´s been looking at you the whole night and you didn´t realize until now?
The sweat was sticking to your skin, and you´d be fine with that if the feeling of your own hair sticking to your chest didn´t gross you out. "I´m sweating like a pig" a friend told you, basically screaming into your eardrum, "Come get water with me?"
"Okay!" you reply, fixing your hair, moving it out of your sticky skin, following the fairy through the dark woods to try and go towards the drink table.
And that was just the perfect moment to attack.
"Hey" Luke said.
You turned around quicker than you´d like yourself to admit.
"Hi" you say, stopping in your tracks. "Found you, I guess"
He was looking good, too good. His jacket was opened, the teasing flesh of his neck showing just underneath that boring black shirt. His make-up was still in perfect shape, and his face didn´t look as scary as it did before, rather, he looked handsome, even with the painted features.
"Guess so" he smiles, and there´s a slight tilt to his head, as if he was sizing you up. "So-, how that night going for you?" he asked.
"Good so far" you replied, getting rid of the hood of your cape, letting yourself breathe a little bit more. "Sweaty" you stated, "You?"
"Sweaty" he repeated, a soft grin on his face. You rolled your eyes. "Nothing more?" he inquires.
You press your lips together, crossing your arms over your chest, "What do you mean?" you quickly ask.
"No one´s tried their luck with you yet?" he asked before taking a sip of his beer. He tilted his head to the side while doing so, the moonlight doing nothing but wonders to illuminate his jawline perfectly, the shadow of it intensifying over your Adam´s apple, which bobbed up and down slowly, the way his tongue licked his bottom lip quickly.
You scoffed. "No. Not really"
"Come on..." he jogged, "I don´t believe you"
Gosh, he was doing it again.
"Why?" you asked
He shrugged his shoulders casually, "You´re not something that´s easy to miss" he said, and you hated the way the compliment made you feel, and how silent it made you, unable to form words. And it was like he knew exactly what he was doing, and what he was making you feel. He knew exactly what to say, and he knew it was driving you insane, and Luke was enjoying the hell out of it.
"Were you watching me?" is all you can ask.
He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe", is all he stated.
You laughed, tilting your head, "What, are you some creep now?"
Luke raised an eyebrow, "Don't get me wrong, I love watching you dance" he said, his tone so smooth and warm, "But I was hoping for something else" he shrugged his shoulders playfully, as if he was just talking about the weather with that casualness.
You raised and eyebrow, "So you were watching?" you asked, and you damn right knew he was.
Luke raised the bottle again, just about to press it to his lips as he said, "Like I said, you´re kind of impossible to miss"
He had a way with words, and they somehow always managed to make your brain malfunction, like you were suddenly a dumb girl from freshman year, the way they came out of his mouth with that husky, rough voice. Like they were sweet and velvety, and he had a way of saying them, a way of pronouncing them.
"Are you done playing around?" is all you manage to ask. You wanted to do something, say something, move somewhere. It was like your legs had become roots of trees, and you were just waiting for him, for him to do something. For him to say anything, really. And you didn´t want to think, or act, or speak. You just wanted him.
Luke hummed, and the smile that tugged at his lips was almost predatory. Like he was waiting for that. For you to ask him, and beg him, and for him to give in, to say yes. In silence, he walked towards a nearby tree taking the last sip of his beer, setting the bottle on the floor shortly after. He leaned back against it, the back of his head pressing against the hard wood.
"Come here" he asked, and it all became so quiet. The loud party was easy to step away from, even when the music and continuous chatter was buzzing inside your ears.
Arms still crossed, you walked to where he was, just a few feet away.
"What are you doing?" you asked, looking straight into his eyes. They were the same ones that pierced through you hours ago. The same ones that stared at you so deeply, and the same ones that made your knees weak. Luke lifted a hand, forcing its way through your crossed arms to hold one of your hands, and he gave it a quick, soft pull, a gesture that would be too obvious, and easy to ignore. But you didn´t. Because his palm was warm, and his fingers wrapped around your wrist tightly, but carefully.
"I just want you close"
You scoffed, unable to hold back a laugh. If you really thought about it, he sounded so, so dumb.
"That was the cheesiest shit I have ever heard"
He didn´t flinch, his face was still as serious as before. And he didn't take his eyes off of you, his fingers gently rubbing the soft skin of your wrist, a gesture that was almost hypnotic.
"I wasn´t done"
You tilted your head to the side, waiting for him to continue. He was attempting to pull you by the hand again, yet he never did. It felt as if you were about to jump off a cliff with the risk of someone pushing you. You took another step closer yourself, and then another, until you were standing just in front of him, your chests barely touching.
"Go on then" you encouraged, feeling your own cockiness take a hold on you, "What is it that you want, hm?". If it wasn´t for your previous fruity drinks, you weren´t sure you would be this bold.
"I said close" he demanded. But your chests were at the verge of pressing together.
"I am close"
That´s when he really pulled you. Luke forced his free hand around your waist, and he tugged, hard. The sudden force had you stumbling towards him, your chest colliding with his and his nose nearly pressed against yours, lips parted as you gasped, your free hand taking a hold on his shoulder so you wouldn´t fall all over him.
"This close" he whispered, his face dangerously close to yours. He was looking at your lips, and then at your eyes, and back to your lips. And you knew, oh, you knew exactly what he wanted, and you were more than willing to let him have it.
He tilted his head slightly to the side, and you could almost taste him. Luke let his lips brush against yours, and the soft touch was enough to drive you crazy. He was testing the waters, testing the limits, and you could tell by the way his lips moved against yours.
But it felt like a hundred tortures.
"Just kiss me already" you muttered against him. Luke didn´t need any more words to finally, fucking finally, press his lips against yours. And when he did, he kissed you hard, and with a hunger that left you breathless. He kissed you like his life depended on it.
He loved the feeling of when you let him press his tongue softly, exploring your mouth. And the way his teeth grazed over your bottom lip, and the way his hand was grabbing the fabric of your costume, and the way he held onto your neck, and the way his other hand grabbed your waist and pulled your hips against his, the feeling of his fingers digging into your soft flesh, the way he groaned softly into the kiss, the way his chest was pressed against yours and his breath was hot and heavy.
And he wanted more.
His kiss was hungry, and demanding, and all consuming, like he was trying to take every single ounce of air from your lungs. His hand moved up, his fingers tangling into your hair, holding onto the back of your neck, his nails grazing the skin, and pulling slightly, forcing you to arch your neck. He didn´t waste any time, and his tongue was instantly on yours again.
He pressed a couple of quick kisses over your jaw, his teeth grazing the skin, biting softly. His lips trailed down, pressing wet kisses all the way down to your neck, sucking on the soft skin. His fingers tightened, tugging slightly.
"Let´s go somewhere else, yeah?" he whispered, low and vibrant.
You didn´t have the chance to answer.
It was a quick turn, and the next thing you know is that Luke is walking ahead, his hand holding onto yours and a quick, firm pull, making you follow him. And soon enough, you find yourselves inside your cabin. And it was as if a switch had turned inside him. He pressed you against the door as soon as it was closed, his lips attacking yours. He kissed you hungrily, his hands gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you and pressing you further against the door.
He was all over you. It didn´t take him long to take a firmer grip of your legs as he walked towards the bed, dropping you down softly. His hands were quick to grab the edge of his jacket, removing it with ease, throwing it across the room, his black t-shirt following right after. You were mesmerized, watching the way his muscles flexed with each movement, the way his eyes remained focused on you still.
You got rid of your cape as he leaned down over you, "Stop" he warned you. He looked down, his hands roaming over your red skirt. His fingers took a hold of it softly, "I want this on" he stated. You could only nod as he leaned down, pressing another quick kiss against your lips. "But I want this off" he whispered, his hands moving up, reaching for the top of the corset. You were quick to remove it, Luke helping you quickly, letting the material fall down onto the mattress, leaving you in the button up shirt you had underneath.
Luke popped a knee onto the bed, dangerously close to your core. "Fuck-" he muttered. He leaned down, a hand quickly unbuttoning your clothes. "How am I supposed to not fuck you like this?" he mumbled, and you felt the warmth of his hands, the soft touch, his calloused fingertips, his nails scraping the skin. "Looking this pretty, waiting for me"
You could feel the heat creeping up, and you knew he could see it. Your chest was rising and falling with every breath, your heart pounding in your chest. Luke was looking at you, his gaze intense and filled with desire.
His knee finally pressed against you, the contact enough to draw a small gasp from you, his thigh now firmly between yours, your skirt pushed up slightly. You felt his hands run over the smooth material of your skirt, and then under it, his fingers squeezing, pulling, kneading at your legs. His hand ran up the length of your inner thigh, "Move" he demanded then.
You obliged. You didn´t dare to question him, his knee remained pressed firmly against you. You felt the delicious pressure against your clit as your hips slowly grinned against his thigh.
Luke watched, his lips parting. "That's it" he praised you. Your eyes fell shut, your head falling back, a low groan whimper your lips. You felt his hand trail up your lower back, encouraging your movements against him, "Keep going baby, show me how good you feel" he breathed, and you couldn´t help but feel the rush of heat between your legs. He leaned in, his lips pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses over the base of your throat. Your hips jerked against him, his hand gripping your skin tighter.
"I want to touch you" he muttered, "Let me touch you" his hand moved up, fingers caressing the flesh of your stomach, all the way up to your cleavage. He was bold enough to cup one of your covered breast for a second, squeezing it firmly, and then trailing his hand down, his palm pressed flat against your lower abdomen, "Come on-," he urged, "Let me touch you, let me get you off"
Luke was desperate, and you were a moaning mess, grinding against his thigh. You were desperate too, and the friction of his clothes against you wasn´t enough, and he was right there. "Do it. Do what you want" you sight out, grabbing his face to smash your lips together again. And that was enough.
Luke moved, his hands working their way down your skirt. His fingers worked quickly, his finger hooked on the waistband of the underwear, pulling them down slowly, the fabric scratching your thighs. His mouth was back on your neck, his teeth grazing the skin as he sucked and bit the soft skin, and then his tongue soothing the pain. You shivered, goosebumps rising over your skin. "You said you didn´t bite" you teased.
"Shut up" he grunted.
His fingers slid in between your thighs, teasingly, before moving further down, the pads of his fingers rubbing your folds. A sigh escaped you, and you heard his smile against your skin, his fingers slipping between the wet, slick skin.
Your body shook at the sudden sensation, his fingers spreading you apart. Luke slid his index finger inside you slowly. He pressed his lips against your throat, a deep chuckle leaving his lips, "I´m sure you don´t mind if I bite" he muttered, his fingers curling inside of you. "And you won´t mind if I fuck you too, right?" he asked. Your heart skipped a beat. You couldn´t form a proper answer. "I won't ask twice"
You couldn´t help the way you clenched around his fingers, and the sound that escaped you was something that was not going to be forgotten. "N-no" you whimpered.
"No?" he repeated, almost mockingly, a small yet lying pout on his lips. It bothered you as much as it made the rest of your body hot, but you had no time to be mad. Luke picked up his pace, his fingers sliding in and out in a faster motion that got you taking a hold of his wrist.
"Oh-," you whimpered, and you were already feeling so sensitive. He had a way of getting you so worked up, and the teasing was killing you.
"What is it? You don't like it?" he asked, but the smirk on his lips told you everything.
"Y-you know-," you breathed out, struggling to keep your words straight, "Fucking jerk"
"Mhm" he hummed, the pad of his thumb moving up to circle your clit, rubbing it gently, his fingers still moving inside you, "Is that so?" he asked. You could only nod, unable to keep your eyes open, the sensations overwhelming, his voice only making things worse, and the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out was too much.
The burning sensation on your tummy tightened just for a second before he went back to his slow and deliberate pace. You felt him move, and you realized he was positioning himself better, his face now at the level of your stomach. He kissed the skin just above the waistband of the skirt, fingers still working inside you. You took a quick look at him, the paint on his face, smudged around the round edges and his perfect lips not looking so perfectly painted anymore. You were not going to admit it out loud, but the messy look was something that did wonders to you, and you hated the thought of being able to have him like this, with a paint-stained face, and a body that was not the least bit tired of the day.
His mouth guided upwards then, following an invisible line that travelled from your belly button all the way to your lips again, kissing you as his fingers were still sliding in and out, his thumb still working circles over the bundle of nerves. You felt him shift his weight, his hand moving up from your waist, sliding over the back of your head and grabbing a fistful of hair. The sensation made your breath hitch.
Luke broke the kiss, a small grunt leaving his mouth, "You feel so good" he grunted, "So warm, and tight" his fingers curled inside you, again. His hand pulled slightly on your scalp, the tug feeling like electricity shooting through your spine.
He wanted to know if you´ll feel that good when he fucked you.
The thought alone had him throbbing painfully, aching to be inside you. Fuck-, he wanted it now.
"Let me fuck you" he asked, almost begged, "Let me fuck you, sweetheart. I know you want it." he whispered.
Gods, did he love a dirty talk.
You were so lost in pleasure that his words were barely registering, but the way he was touching you, and the way he was speaking to you. His front was almost pressed against you, your fingers taking a grip of the skin of his waist and back, scratching whenever the scissoring of his fingers hit that spot. And you loved the feeling of his hot skin touching with yours. Why not take it a little bit further?
"Go on then" you replied, barely, and a moan followed right after. He could tell it took a lot out of you, the effort to speak, but he could not have been more thankful for your reply. His fingers slid out of you, slowly, instantly missing the feeling of it.
Luke pressed another kiss on your lips before leaning away, "Sit up" he ordered, and you did. He didn´t say anything as he did the exact same thing while he got rid of his pants. His erection was obvious, tightened by the fabric of his boxers, and you could only watch, his cock hard, thick and pulsing.
He didn't even ask as he took a grip of the back of your leg, forcing you to straddle over him. The sudden move was quick, but you could only hold onto his shoulders, the new position making you sit directly on top of his erection, a hiss past his lips, but he liked it. He loved having you like this, and his hand was already reaching for the skirt, moving the fabric out of the way as you took matter into your own hands, pulling down on his underwear to relieve his painfully hard cock.
You held onto his length, the tip already wet, the precum leaking, and he groaned. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breathing labored, eyes closed. You stroked him slowly, your hand tightening around him.
"Shit" he muttered, "Don't stop" he moaned.
You moved your hand up and down, stroking his length, and his hips jerked against your palm, and he could have cum just right there. You twisted slightly around it, the pad of your thumb softly caressing his tip, stealing a filthy moan from the back of his throat. He only wanted this for a short time, or else he would explode on your hand, he knew it.
So he let you have your fun for a moment, before he took a hold of your wrist, stopping you, "You have no idea how close I am" he breathed. "Can I fuck you already?"
And come on, did he even need to ask?
You were quick to reply, "Stop asking and just do it". His arm moved around your waist, pushing his hand under the skirt, moving the fabric out of the way. The lost feeling of his fingers on you was soon replaced by the tip of his cock, teasing the entrance. He moaned. He didn't push in yet, his hand guiding his cock between the folds, rubbing his shaft against the wetness.
"You feel so good already" he moaned, his other hand holding onto the base of his length, giving himself a few pumps before he let his tip slide into you, his hand quickly grabbing a hold of the back of your neck, pulling your head towards him. And he was quick to slide inside.
His lips swallowed the small gasp that left you, the feeling of his cock stretching you being too much to handle in a matter of just a moment. "That's it, that's my girl" he muttered against you.
He began rocking his hips, slow and steady, letting you adjust. "Come on" he encouraged, his arm tightening around you. You began to move, slowly, the sensation almost unbearable, and he moaned, the feeling of him hitting the right spots was all it took. You usually hated this position; the discomfort on your thighs, the burning, how tiring it was, and the fact that the person on top always seemed to not hit the right spot. But with Luke, it was different. It felt different, damn it.
He grunted with a particular roll of your hips, and you moaned, the feeling of him filling you up being enough to make the fire burn hotter, and you clenched around him, causing him to let out a curse. He gripped the skin of your hips, his hips thrusting upwards, his cock sliding further into you, the sound of the two bodies colliding filling the room like a slap. His mouth fell open, his fingers digging into the flesh, holding onto you like his life depended on it, his eyes shut tightly, brows furrowed. And the sound, the lewd and wet sounds coming from the connection between the two bodies, mixed with the moans and the sound of skin, was delicious.
He felt so good, the way his hips bucked against yours, the way he stretched you, filled you, the way he moaned. It was the best fuck of your life, and you hadn't even reached the climax yet.
He placed a hand behind him, onto the mattress, the hand that still held you guiding the dancing of your hips. He began moving his hips, meeting each of your movements, his pace slower than before, but deeper. Your hands reached for his pelvis for your own support, nails scratching the skin.
"Fuck, fuck" he cursed. He let his head fall back, and the sight was mesmerizing, the veins on his neck, the sweat on his forehead, the messy black and white face paint, his mouth falling open and his chest raised and fell. His muscles flexed under the dim light, the moonlight shining over his skin. And his hair was a mess, and the way his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow. You never thought someone could look that pretty while fucking.
"You´re being so great" he praised, "So good, sweetheart" his hips snapped, hard, and it hit just the right spot, and a gasp left your lips.
"Oh my-," you whimpered, "There, there, please" you begged. And Luke loved a good beg, he would have to remember that.
"Here?" he smirked, his hips rolling upwards again, the same movement, hitting the exact same spot, and a moan left his lips. He knew he found it when your walls tightened around him, and he couldn't help the way his own legs twitched.
Your thighs already burned, the muscles begging for mercy. It was painful, the strain, the effort, the exhaustion. You didn't want to admit it, but you found yourself thinking that you wouldn´t stop for Luke even if it hurt. He just felt too good to let go now.
"Keep going, don't stop"
And the way he fucked, and the way he was so good at it. Luke was a fast learner, and he didn't waste any time in finding the right spot, and he didn't hesitate on keeping his hips thrusting against you. He could tell by the way you moved, and the way you cried, that you were getting closer.
He felt your walls begin to tighten, and the way they did it, the feeling, was something else, and it only took him a few more rolls of his hips, and he could feel the heat begin to coil at the pit of his stomach. But he didn't want to cum just yet.
"Hold it, baby. Hold it for me, yeah?" he grunted. And the way he called you that, the way his voice was laced with a command, it made you weak. You didn't know how long you could last. He had already brought you to the edge once, and he was doing it again. He could feel the pressure building up, his hips stuttering. "We´ve got all night. Shit, I could fuck you all night" his voice was strained, and you knew he was getting closer too.
The more you tried to hold it, the worst everything felt. You needed to let it go in order to feel him let go too. You wanted-, needed Luke to finally snap, to release inside you. "Luke-" you called, and your voice was a whisper, and you didn't know if he heard it. "Please"
And you grabbed his hand, the one holding yout hips. Your poor movements kept on going as both your hands held his, leading it close to your lips. You placed a kiss on the knuckles, the gesture being enough for him to open his eyes and look at you, and not stop even when you darted his thumb to your lips, pressing them on your tongue.
He saw it before he felt it, the way your tongue moved along the pad of his thumb, the saliva sticking as you wrapped your mouth around his digit. Fuck. The sight-, the sight. You. You killed him. It was just the way he wanted you.
His hips stuttered and shook, your own breath getting caught up in your throat and tightening, the warmth pooling. You came undone. The orgasm washing over you like a wave, leaving you trembling and shaking, the feeling of your release was so powerful. And he came not long after. He couldn't help but follow your release, his own cock throbbing, releasing his cum inside you.
You felt like you could pass out, heavy breathing and sweating and all, the cold night air suddenly hitting both of your heated bodies.
You fell forward, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding onto him as if you were drowning. Luke wrapped his own arms around your back, pulling you close, his chest rising and falling against yours, his heartbeat fast and erratic, just like yours.
"Gods-" he said, panting, his hands roaming over your back.
"Yeah" you laughed, lifting your head up to look at him, your breath hitting his face when you still managed to catch your breath. Luke chuckled then, a little hum vibrating on his chest. "What?" you asked.
Luke gestured his face with a hand, but his eyes roamed over your face constantly; your eyes, your cheeks, your nose. Even down your neck. "I did a number on you, huh?" he chuckled.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x fem!reader#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan x female reader#luke castellan fic#luke castellan smut#pjo x you#pjo#pjo x reader#pjo series#luke castellan x you#luke x reader#luke castellan one shot#pjo smut#luke castellan x yn#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan halloween#halloween#halloween smut
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THEY GO TOO FAR 𖹭 엔하이픈 ( reaction ) !
genre yandere 𖹭 warning dark fic, mentions of hitting , blood , starvation , psychological torture — parings OT7! enhypen x fem reader | back to library .
request: what about yandere!enha when they've gone too far ? like punished you/messed with you enough to the point the person is non-verbal/fainted/really mad at them etc.
— what happens enhypen goes too far with a punishment?
「 authors note 𖹭 」
﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ
he doesn't think he went too far , in fact he got you exactly where he wanted — all to himself , that's why he did this , this why he isolated you from your friends, your family; anyone who loved you — cause only he could love you, you were his. all you did now was follow him around the house , not wanting to leave his side, you even sat on the toilet while he showered. he couldn't even leave the house without you screaming for him to stay , and that made him smile wickedly , he went too far and he loved it. "pl-please don't leave me." you sobbed , grabbing his arms , he wasn't even going anywhere, he just wanted to see what you were gonna do , smiling , he closed the door , pulling your shaking body into his arms as you begged him not to leave.
"see how easily i can leave , remember that."
﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ
when you did something he didn't like, he withheld everything from you; shower , food water for as long as he saw fit , he even ordered the maids and everyone else to ignore you. this went on as long as he saw fit , mostly a week , but he wanted to try and prolong it to prove a point to you. — until one day he heard a thud and scream of a maid , you had fainted. "shit." he pulled the tie of his suit. "don't just stand there pick her up take her to the room , call the doctor." he sighed. "how long did she go without eating?" He asked ,everyone was silent. "how long!" he shouted. "about a week and a half." he cursed , he went too far.
"stupid girl i told you to listen to me , call the fucking doctor."
﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ
jake knew he'd gone too far, you didn't care anymore. you didn't cry when he cut himself anymore , you didn't stay up for days making sure he didn't hurt himself , you were desensitized to his actions and he didn't know what to do , you were gonna leave him for sure now , he no longer had control. "I'll really kill myself this time , I promise." you stood there watching him bleed from his arms , every emotion flowing through your brain — you snapped , picking up the knife. "fine." he watched you put the blade to your arm , slicing it. "y-yn." you screamed as he began to cry. "shut up , shut up." you shouted at him. "you wanna die? you can't live without me? let's die then." you said , he was watching you go crazy.
he didn't know what to do , he'd gone way too far.
﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ
sunghoon was short tempered at times , and you both knew it was only a matter of time before he went too far with his punishments , and he did. "su-sunghoon please." you could see he face turning red. "i'm sorry." he didn't hear you , all he saw was you hitting him and running towards the door , it was locked and he had the key , but he was pissed. "sunghoon please im sorry." all he wanted to do was push you to the floor , but he pushed too hard , you fell to the ground not before hitting your head on the table , knocking you out cold. "shit." he ran his fingers through his hair , checking your pulse— you were still breathing. he picked your body up off the floor taking you back to his room.
he actually felt bad this time
﹙ 𐙚 : sunoo﹚ .ᐟ
it happened too fast , you were leaving out the door, you were gonna leave him all alone , you were falling for his manipulation tactics anymore , you didn't pack anything ready to leave , he blacked out , like everything was in flashes; one minute your hand was on the door knob , another flash and the lamp was in his hand and he was behind you , then another flash and you were on the floor , he'd hit you. "oh no." he dropped the lamp , tears welling in his eyes , you were breathing but you were out cold . "im so sorry." he sobbed , holding you in his arms. "yo-you were gonna leave me , i couldn't let you go." he cried. "I'm so sorry." he moved you to the bed.
"i-im sorry i went too far."
﹙ 𐙚 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ
so maybe he left you in the isolated room too long; normally it was only a week, he knew you could take it— so then what about 2 weeks? 2 and a half weeks? 3 weeks? no you couldn't take it , and jungwon soon found that once he stopped hearing you scream , when he went to give you food , you barely ate it , then you stopped eating all together. he started to fear you were dead , he didn't want that , so he opened the door , where you were balled up in a corner , hair messy , you whimpered from the light shining into the room. "hey come on." he said, you didn't move , he tried to come near you , but you tried to bury yourself into your knees , muttering im sorry over and over again , until he picked you up from the floor taking you to his room.
when you crawled into a ball silently sobbing to yourself , he realized he went too far.
﹙ 𐙚 : ni-ki﹚ .ᐟ
ni-ki doesn't think he went too far , he didn't even twist your arm that hard , why are you crying like a baby? "it's not broken , get up." you don't get up , so he grabs you by that arm which makes you scream in pain , he drops you on the couch. "shit." he realizes it might actually be broken. "i told you not to leave again and you did , this is your fault." he said , how the hell was he gonna explain this to a doctor? he won't , cause he's not taking you to the doctor, well not at first. "go take a pain killer and stop screaming before someone hears you." he only takes you to a doctor because he's sick and tired of hearing you scream.
"fine i'll take you , just shut up."
#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen reactions#enhypen headcanons#kpop x reader#lee heeseung x reader#lee heeseung scenarios#jay park x reader#jay park scenarios#jake sim x reader#jake sim scenarios#park sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon scenarios#sunoo x reader#sunoo scenarios#jungwon scenarios#yang jungwon x reader#ni ki x reader#ni ki scenarios
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ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕜🧸
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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥: Fresh start
Word count: 4507
Summary: After freshening up, Y/N is warmly welcomed by her pack and her new scent, especially Felix and Han, but the mood shifts when I.N becomes overwhelmed by her returning scent. Chan and Lee Know reassure him, while Y/N feels guilty. Hyunjin then invites her on a grocery run, allowing them to bond despite her nervousness. Upon returning, they find the pack in turmoil due to Seungmin’s hurtful words to Felix. Y/N steps in to mediate, expressing her desire to belong and urging unity. After the confrontation, she finds comfort in Hyunjin’s support while unpacking her belongings, deepening their connection and making her feel more at home.
Warning: Angst/comfort, cursing, hate.
After Y/N freshened up, she made her way downstairs, the familiar sounds of her pack filling the air. As soon as she reached the bottom step, she was ambushed by Felix and Han.
"Y/Nnie! I missed you so much!" Felix exclaimed, his eyes shining with joy as he wrapped her in a bear hug.
"You smell so sweet, Y/Nnie," Han chimed in, pressing his face into her neck, inhaling deeply.
"Hannie, stop licking it!" she squeaked, laughter bubbling up as Han playfully nuzzled her scent gland. "That tickles!"
"Can’t help it! You just smell so good," he teased, grinning at her reaction.
Just then, Chan stepped in, a mix of amusement and exasperation on his face. "You two, cut it out. Let her breathe!"
Felix pouted but let go, while Han feigned innocence. "We’re just showing our love, Chan!"
"Well, your love is suffocating her," Chan replied, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Now come eat before it gets cold!"
Lee Know appeared from the kitchen, expertly placing down a feast of breakfast dishes. "Seriously, guys, let her eat," he said, rolling his eyes.
"Whoa, bacon!" Changbin yelled, rushing in and plopping down at the table as the rest of the members filtered in one by one.
Just then, I.N stumbled into the room, his face pale and his hair disheveled. "Chan?" he mumbled, gripping the doorway for support.
The room fell silent, everyone’s eyes turning toward him with concern. "Oh my God, what’s wrong, I.N?" Chan rushed over, guiding him to a nearby chair.
"I... there’s a new scent," I.N gasped, clutching his chest. "It’s making my alpha go crazy, Chan. My heart won’t stop racing. I feel so sick."
Panic flickered across Chan's face as he exchanged a worried glance with Lee Know. "Innie, that’s Y/N’s scent. She got her scent back," he said slowly, the realization dawning on them both.
"What?!" I.N’s eyes widened, confusion mixing with distress. "But how? Is she okay?"
"She’s fine!" Chan reassured him, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. "You just need to breathe. It’s overwhelming, but it’s just her. You’ll get used to it."
"Yeah, your alpha instincts are just reacting," Lee Know added, trying to keep the mood light. "You’re okay, just… chill."
“Will he be okay?” Y/N asked, a twinge of guilt creeping into her voice as she watched I.N struggle.
“Yeah, he’ll be fine. His alpha just needs to adjust to you and your new scent,” Changbin reassured her, handing I.N a cup of water. “Here, drink this.”
“O-okay, but do I have to stay away from him…?” she frowned, her fingers absentmindedly playing with Felix’s charm bracelet, a nervous habit she’d developed.
“No, no! I can handle it,” I.N insisted, though his eyes flashed red momentarily as he squeezed them shut, trying to regain control. He let out a soft growl, his nails digging into Chan’s skin as he fought against the overwhelming sensations.
“I.Nnie, you should go back to bed,” Chan said, his voice laced with concern as he felt I.N’s grip tightening.
“I’ll take him, Hyung,” Han offered, rising from his seat, but Chan quickly shook his head.
“No, babe, he’s really heavy. You might tumble and fall,” Chan replied, carefully lifting I.N, who felt almost weightless in his arms despite the tension radiating from him.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Y/N said, her voice trembling slightly. “I can put on the scent blockers so you don’t have to feel like this.”
“NO. Don’t,” I.N huffed, frustration etched on his face as he held his head in his hands. “You just got better! I’m not going to ruin that again.”
Chan exchanged worried glances with the others, feeling the weight of I.N’s struggle. “You’re not ruining anything. We’ll figure this out together. Just breathe.”
I.N took a shaky breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “It’s just… it feels like I’m on fire. I can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper
“I’ll bring some ginger tea; it should help,” Leeknow instructed, getting started on the tea as Chan hummed and slipped away into the corridors.
“Felix, babe, I need you to show Y/N her room, please, and help her unpack, okay?” Leeknow asked, glancing over his shoulder.
“Alright, baby, I got you,” Felix replied, planting a quick kiss on Leeknow’s cheek before heading to the sink to put his dishes away.
“Han, can you go grab more eggs from the chicken coop?” Leeknow asked, pouring hot water into a cup.
“I can do that! Can I take Y/N with me, Hyung?” Han pleaded, giving Leeknow his best puppy-dog eyes.
Leeknow rolled his eyes but eventually nodded. “Okay, but you two be careful. No crossing the forest line, understood?” He shot them a serious look, making sure they understood.
“Yes, yes—”
“Good morning, everyone!” Hyunjin strolled into the kitchen, his aura commanding instant attention. Y/N froze, sitting up straight, while Felix pouted.
“I’m going to the store. Y/N, come on,” Hyunjin said, his gaze locking onto her, causing the room to fall silent.
“M-me?” she stammered, swallowing hard.
“Yes, you pabo. Who else is named Y/N?” Hyunjin smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed.
“B-but I thought you hated me…” Y/N’s voice faltered, her grip tightening around Felix’s hand. She felt a mix of fear and a longing for acceptance from Hyunjin, despite his past behavior.
“Ugh,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, furrowing his brow as he grabbed a piece of toast. “I can tolerate you. Come on before I change my mind.” With that, he headed out, leaving an echo of tension in the air.
“I think you should go, Y/Nnie. It’ll give you guys some time alone,” Changbin encouraged her gently.
“R-really?” she whispered, hope flickering in her chest.
“Yeah, I talked to him, so he’ll behave,” Leeknow chimed in, grabbing the cup of tea for I.N. “Good luck, baby.”
Y/N glanced at Felix, who looked just as confused but supportive. Slowly, she let go of his hand.
“I’ll come with you,” Felix said, shrugging as he stood up.
“But Felix—” she hissed, anxiety creeping in.
“It’s good for you guys to get along. I hate my mates fighting,” Felix whined, pulling her toward the door. “This is a good time for him to apologize.”
“Felix!” she protested, but they were already outside, standing by Hyunjin’s car. He looked at them with an expression of mild boredom as he unlocked the door.
“You two behave. Actually, Hyunjin, you behave. If you hurt her, I swear—”
“Babe, I won’t. Calm down,” Hyunjin huffed, starting the engine.
“Felix, I thought you were coming?” Y/N pouted, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“Nope! Hyunjin, drive before she jumps out of the car,” Felix giggled, closing the door just as Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. Before she could react, they were pulling out of the driveway, her scent intensifying with rising fear.
“Relax, will you? Your scent is going to make me pass out,” Hyunjin said, turning on the AC.
“S-sorry,” Y/N muttered, trying to calm her racing heart. She felt trapped between excitement and anxiety, hoping that this awkward outing might lead to something better between her and Hyunjin.
She let out soft whimpers as Hyunjin’s gaze focused on her lap. He was wrestling with his own nerves, trying to figure out how to start the conversation. Why did she have to smell so good? His beta instincts were on high alert, making it hard to concentrate, and he almost missed the turn into the supermarket.
“Okay, listen,” he finally said as he parked the car. Y/N didn’t look up, worried he might think she was challenging him. Sighing, he reached for her shaking hands. “You need to breathe and stop shaking. I promise, I won’t hurt you.”
Y/N’s eyes widened as she stared at their hands interlocked in surprise. What was happening here?
“Y/N, I really want to apologize for making your past few days difficult,” he said, his voice softening.
“Apologize?” she whispered, glancing up at him, confusion flickering in her eyes. “But…”
“It wasn’t fair for me to judge you right away. I should have given you a chance before shutting you out. I guess I’m just… nervous. Sorry,” he chuckled, running a hand through his hair and squeezing her hands gently.
“You don’t have to be nervous, oppa,” she replied, her lips curving into a small smile. His flustered state was oddly endearing, and she felt a warmth spread through her.
“I’m really sorry for hurting your feelings. You’re part of our pack now, and it’s my job to take care of you. I’ve had my own struggles in the past, and they kind of clouded my judgment… just ask Jisung,” he added with a light laugh.
“I’ve heard about the headphones,” she giggled, feeling the tension lift as her scent brightened.
“Yeah, poor I.N.,” he said with a smirk, rubbing soothing circles on her hand. “The point is, I really hope we can start fresh.”
“It’s okay, oppa. I get where you’re coming from. I really appreciate your apology, and I’m all for a fresh start,” she replied, her voice warm.
“Thank you! And don’t worry about Seungmin; he’ll come around eventually,” Hyunjin said, his tone lightening. He leaned over and gave her hand a quick, friendly kiss, making her blush.
“Aish, so cute!” he laughed, quickly pulling out his phone to snap a picture of her adorable expression.
“NOOOO!” she squealed, trying to grab the phone from him.
“Too late!” he teased, playfully keeping it out of her reach. He turned off the car and opened the door with a grin. “Let’s head inside before they think I actually left you stranded,”
As they got out, she felt a mixture of relief and excitement. Maybe things were finally turning a corner between them.
"I'm just grabbing some paint," Hyunjin informed her as they wandered down a few aisles. He intertwined their fingers again, feeling his beta instincts kick into high gear now that he had one of his omega's by his side. “Don’t leave my side.”
"You paint?" Y/N asked softly, glancing at a few items on the shelves.
"Yeah, I think you've heard the rules about my painting room," he said, quickly looking at her. She remembered the tales of his exclusive space.
“Oh, yes! Can I see a painting?” she asked casually, but he stiffened for a moment, his mind racing.
“Yes, one day,” he replied, trying to maintain his composure as he picked out paints and brushes. “If you see anything you want, just put it in the tray, okay?”
“But oppa, I don’t have money,” she frowned.
“It’s okay, I’m paying—”
“But—”
“Pick something or we’re not leaving the store,” he said with a playful glare. She huffed like a little kid, reluctantly moving down the aisle. She felt a bit overwhelmed; having just gone on a shopping spree a few days ago, she wasn’t sure what to get.
“Don’t go too far, Y/N,” he warned, glancing back at her as she wandered into another aisle.
“Okay, oppa!” she called back, strolling around but making sure to return to him every few minutes. Once he finished, he quickly followed her as she looked for something she wanted.
“Can I get some baking supplies?” she asked when they reached the baking aisle.
“Yeah, go ahead. Do you like baking?” Hyunjin asked, looking up from his phone.
“Yes, I do! I noticed you guys only have trays for brownies,” she pouted, dropping pans into the basket.
“Yeah, because Felix only bakes brownies and cookies,” he explained, leaning over to admire her. She looked beautiful, her skin glowing under the store’s lights.
“Really? That needs to change now that I’m here. I’m going to teach him more recipes—”
Suddenly, a voice squealed, interrupting their peaceful shopping. “Oh my god, are you Hyunjin? Hyunjin from Stray Kids? Camilla, I told you it was him!”
“Ugh, we forgot to wear masks,” he hissed, cursing himself. He instinctively stood in front of Y/N, shielding her while putting on a forced smile.
“Hello, ladies,” he said, waving and bowing slightly.
“Hyunjin! Can we please have a picture?” one girl asked, grabbing onto him without consent.
“Hey, whoa, calm down,” he chuckled nervously, trying to pry her off him. “I’m kind of busy right now, so I can’t really take pictures.”
Y/N felt her agitation rising as she softly growled, her protective instincts flaring. Why were they touching him without asking?
“But Hyunjin! This is the first time I’ve ever seen you!” another girl exclaimed.
“He said back off,” Y/N growled softly again, her eyes shimmering gold. Hyunjin gasped and quickly pulled her under his arm, trying to comfort her.
“Ladies, we’ll be off. Maybe next time,” he said, panic creeping into his voice. He felt Y/N’s tension and wanted to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible. The girls looked surprised but took a step back, realizing they’d crossed a line.
“Let’s go, Y/N,” he said, guiding her away. “I’m sorry about that. You okay?”
She nodded, though she still felt the remnants of her frustration. “Yeah, just... why didn’t they ask first?”
“I know, they really should have respected our space,” he replied, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “But let’s focus on you for now. What else do you want to pick out?”
Y/N pouted slightly, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude that he was so quick to brush off the situation but she decided to let it go for now. “I’ve got everything for baking, but can I grab a few snacks for I.N? He wasn’t feeling so well.”
“Of course,” he said, shrugging with a smile. “Let’s find him some good stuff.” He followed her around the aisle, his fingers still tapping away on his phone as he texted the group about the situation, balancing concern for I.N with a playful ease as they browsed together.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
𝔹𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕠𝕗 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕠𝕤💦🍑
Babydaddy🍆💦:
How's shopping going babe? Did she forgive you?
GreekGod👨🎨 :
Yeah she did and shopping is alright, she's picking out a few baking supplies right now
Sunshinetwin#1💛🐣:
Ohh! she looks so cute Hyung!🥺😍
Sunshinetwin#2❤️🍑:
Yes she does! tell her i say i miss her😭
Gymdaddy❤️💦🍆:
You guys just saw her 20 minutes ago🤔🤔
Sunshinetwin#2❤️🍑:
Yes but still. I miss her☹️☹️
GreekGod👨🎨 :
We'll be home in a bit. She wants to pick up some snacks for I.N and you guys
Babybread🦊🩵:
Yah! she's so cute i cant handle it.🥰🥰
Catmommy😻❤️:
Are you feeling better innie?
Babybread🦊🩵:
Yes hyung, i've calmed down a bit
GreekGod👨🎨 :
what even happened?
Babydaddy🍆💦:
He needs to get used to Y/n's scent or he might go feral on her
GreekGod👨🎨 :
Damn! that's tough, you'll be okay baby. i'll come cuddle you when i'm back
Meanie🐶❤️:
That's a sign for her to leave, i thought you were on my team Hyunjin? why are you with her?
GreekGod👨🎨 :
Okay first of all there is no such thing as teams🙄🙄
.
.
.
GreekGod👨🎨 :
and Leeknow-hyung and Channie-hyung talked some sense into me and she's actually pretty cool to hang out with. you should get to know her
Meanie🐶❤️:
I'd rather die.😒
Babydaddy🍆💦:
Behave now.🤨
Meanie🐶❤️:
Don't tell me what to do.
Catmommy😻❤️:
Who are you talking to like that?🤨
Meanie🐶❤️:
BangChan who else? Leave me alone Leeknow.
Sunshinetwin#1💛🐣:
ouu you've done it this time seungmin.😰😰
Meanie🐶❤️:
Shut up Felix this is your fault
Sunshinetwin#1💛🐣:
Im sorry Seungmin ☹️☹️
GreekGod👨🎨 :
Don't talk to him like that or i'll deal with you when i get home🤨
Babydaddy🍆💦:
No i will.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Hyunjin?” Y/N called, tugging at his sweater as he furiously texted on his phone, seemingly lost in his own world. “Hyunjin? Is everything okay?” Her nose scrunched up at the sour scent wafting off him, a mix of anxiety and frustration.
“Hyunjin, your scent—” she coughed, tugging harder at his jacket. Finally, he snapped out of it.
“Hey, whoa, sorry. I was distracted. You okay?” He rubbed her back, trying to calm both himself and her.
“Yeah, I was saying I was done,” she said, shifting on her foot nervously while glancing into the basket filled with their finds.
“Okay, let’s go,” he said, but she didn’t budge, a frown deepening on her face.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He crouched slightly to meet her gaze.
“Are you mad at me? If I made you mad, I can put something back—”
“No, love, I’m not mad. I’m mad at something else, but not you,” he reassured her, feeling a pang of guilt for making her worry.
“You sure?” she asked, her eyes searching his.
“Yes, I am,” he replied, pulling her under his arms again, feeling the tension ease a bit.
“U-um, can I scent you?” she asked, playing with his sleeve, her voice soft and a little shy. “Just to make sure?”
“Yes, once we get to the car, love,” he assured her with a gentle smile. They made their way to the register, and Hyunjin didn’t even wait for the total cost; he simply swiped his card and grabbed the bags, eager to get outside.
“Alright, let’s go,” he said, leading her out of the store.
Once they were outside, she took a deep breath, feeling the fresh air wash over her. “Thank you for letting me come with you,” she said, glancing up at him.
“Of course! I thought you might enjoy it,” he replied, his expression softening. “And besides, I wanted to spend some time with you. Just us.”
She smiled, feeling her heart flutter. “You really mean that?”
“Absolutely. Now, how about that scenting?” he teased lightly, guiding her to the car.
“Right!” Y/N grinned, her nervousness fading. Once inside, she leaned in closer, inhaling his comforting scent and scenting his neck glands. “See? Much better.”
“Glad I could help,” he chuckled, watching her with warmth. “Now let’s head home and show Felix your new baking supplies. He’s going to be so excited,”
“Definitely, And maybe we can bake together?” she suggested, her eyes lighting up.
“Sounds like a plan. I’m looking forward to it,” he replied, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot, feeling lighter now that they were back on the same page.
Y/N and Hyunjin stepped into the house, both feeling lighter after their shopping trip. But the moment they crossed the threshold, the atmosphere shifted. A huge argument echoed through the halls, making them pause.
“Man,” Hyunjin huffed, sighing as he grabbed all the bags out of the car. “What now?”
“Is everything okay? Why are they fighting?” Y/N asked, her brow furrowed in concern.
“Probably because of Seungmin,” Hyunjin replied, unlocking the door just as the argument grew louder. They navigated through the living room, which was empty, and entered the kitchen where Leeknow was cooking lunch.
“You aren’t getting involved?” Hyunjin snickered as he set down the snacks and Y/N’s supplies before reaching for his painting gear.
“Nope, the alphas are handling it. He made Felix cry,” Leeknow said, feeding Y/N a piece of kimchi. “Is it good?”
“Yes, oppa! But why is Felix crying?” she asked, reaching for I.N's snacks.
Leeknow exchanged a nervous glance with Hyunjin before he spoke. “Seungmin said some hurtful things, but it’s okay—”
“It is his fault! She wouldn’t even be here if he hadn’t brought her here!” Seungmin’s loud voice cut through the kitchen, making Y/N wince.
“No, it isn’t my fault! You’re the only one who has a problem!” Felix shrieked, his voice cracking as loud sobs followed.
“Hey! Both of you, cut it out now!” Changbin yelled, his commanding voice drowning out the chaos.
Feeling a mix of curiosity and concern, Y/N found her feet moving before she could think twice. She headed upstairs, Hyunjin right behind her. “Where are you going?” he asked, his tone a mix of worry and caution.
“I want to see what’s going on,” she replied, glancing back at him. “Maybe I can help.”
“Y/N, be careful,” he warned, though his tone held a hint of admiration for her bravery.
As they reached the top of the stairs, the argument grew even louder. Y/N stopped in front of a door slightly ajar, peeking inside to find Seungmin pacing, his face flushed with anger. Felix sat on the floor, tears streaming down his cheeks, while I.N stood with clenched fists, visibly upset.
“Can we all just calm down for a second?” I.N pleaded, his voice wavering. “This isn’t helping anyone!”
“Easy for you to say! You’re not the one who feels like the outsider here!” Seungmin shot back, frustration evident in his tone.
“Y/N is part of our pack now! You need to accept that!” Felix shouted through his tears, his voice breaking.
Hyunjin stepped forward, squeezing Y/N’s hand. “Maybe we shouldn't go in,” he suggested, his expression serious.
“Wait,” Y/N whispered, feeling the tension in the air. “I think I need to say something.” She took a deep breath, ready to step into the fray.
She squeezed Hyunjin’s hand for reassurance, then stepped into the room, her presence instantly capturing everyone's attention.
“Guys,” she said, her voice steady but gentle, “can we all just take a moment?”
I.N’s eyes widened in surprise, and Felix quickly wiped his tears, looking hopeful. “Y/N, you shouldn’t have to—”
“No, let her speak,” Hyunjin interrupted, stepping beside her. “She deserves to be heard.”
Y/N nodded, gathering her thoughts as she faced the room. “I know things have been tense since I got here. I appreciate that you all care so much, but I don’t want to be the reason for any more fighting. You’re my pack now, and I want us to get along.”
“Y/N, you don’t have to—” Changbin started, but she held up a hand.
“I do want to. It’s important to me. I know it’s hard for everyone to adjust, especially with how things started. But I really want to make this work,” she said, glancing at each of them. “You all mean a lot to me already, and I don’t want anyone to feel like they’re not included.”
Felix sniffled, his eyes glistening. “I just want us all to be happy.”
“Exactly,” Y/N encouraged, her voice steady. “Let’s find a way to support each other instead of pushing each other away. I promise I’m not here to take anyone’s place. I want to grow with all of you.”
“This is pathetic,” Seungmin scoffed, crossing his arms defiantly.
“Seriously, what’s your problem with me?” Y/N shot back, her gaze unwavering. “I get that you don’t like me, but the rest of the pack does. So what’s the issue? Can you stop bullying me and just back off?” Her voice carried a mix of frustration and hurt, and the room fell silent, the tension palpable.
“You don’t even know me, so why do you have a problem with me?” she continued, her voice firm but shaking slightly.
Seungmin only scoffed again before storming out, leaving everyone else in the room exchanging worried glances.
“I’ll go talk to him,” Chan sighed, getting off his bed and making his way after the beta. He paused to give Felix and Han a quick kiss on the forehead, offering them a reassuring smile.
Y/N felt a wave of frustration wash over her; she couldn’t bear to see Felix upset because of her. “I need some air,” she murmured and quickly slipped out of the room.
“Hey, are you okay?” Hyunjin called after her, his brow furrowing in concern. He gently grabbed her arm, stopping her from walking away.
“I just… I need to nest and have some time alone. Can you show me my room?” she sighed, looking up at him with tired eyes.
“Yeah, of course,” he replied, his tone warm and understanding. “Let’s go.”
They walked down the corridor together, the atmosphere lightening a little as they made their way to her room. “I’ll drop my stuff in my room and then come help you move the bags from Felix’s,” Hyunjin said, glancing at her.
She nodded, grateful for his support. Once they got the bags with all her new items and reached her room, which was similar to Felix’s but with a larger bed—likely because it was one of the guest rooms—Y/N felt a bit of relief wash over her.
She sat down in the middle of her bags, feeling the weight of the day finally starting to lift. Hyunjin flopped onto the bed, scrolling through his social media while occasionally checking in on her.
Y/N focused on folding her clothes, lost in her own thoughts as she neatly organized everything. Meanwhile, Hyunjin couldn’t resist snapping another photo of her, capturing the moment as she concentrated, wishing he could know what was going through her mind.
“Hey,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. “You’re really good at this. Need any help?”
She looked up, surprised by his offer. “I appreciate it, but I think I’ve got it. Just give me a moment.”
“Okay, but I’m right here if you need me,” he assured her, a warm smile lighting up his face.
Feeling a bit lighter, Y/N smiled back, grateful for his presence.
She sighed again as she sat in the middle of the bags, her frustration bubbling beneath the surface. The tension from earlier with Seungmin still clung to her like a heavy blanket, and she felt overwhelmed. Hyunjin watched her from the bed, his heart aching for her. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t want to intrude.
“Hey,” he said softly again, breaking the silence. “You know, it’s okay to feel upset about Seungmin. He’s just… complicated.”
“Complicated?” she scoffed, folding a shirt with more force than necessary. “That’s one way to put it. I don’t understand why he has to be like this. I haven’t done anything to him.”
“Yeah, he can be a bit of a bully sometimes,” Hyunjin admitted, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed. “But it’s not about you. He has his own issues to deal with. It doesn’t make it right, though.”
“Doesn’t make it any easier for me either,” she replied, finally looking up to meet his gaze. “I just want to feel like I belong here, and he’s making that really hard.”
Hyunjin’s heart swelled with empathy. “You do belong, Y/N. I promise. The others see it, even if Seungmin can’t right now. Give him time.”
She nodded, but doubt still flickered in her eyes. “I just don’t want to be a burden to anyone. I hate that Felix is upset because of me.”
“Felix cares about you. We all do,” he reassured her. “He’ll come around. And as for Seungmin, he’ll figure it out eventually. You just have to keep being you.”
“Being me seems to be causing chaos,” she muttered, trying to chuckle but it came out as more of a sigh.
“Sometimes chaos is part of the process,” Hyunjin replied with a small smile. “Look at it this way: if he’s reacting this strongly, it means you matter. He wouldn’t waste energy on you if he didn’t.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. “You really think so?”
“Absolutely. Just hang in there,” he said, his voice warm and encouraging. “Now, let’s tackle these bags. You can’t nest properly until your stuff is sorted.”
As they began to unpack again, Hyunjin found himself stealing glances at her, admiring how she focused on each item with care. She was mesmerizing in her own way, and he couldn’t help but capture another photo of her, hoping to remember this moment.
“Hyunjin, are you going to keep taking pictures of me?” she asked, catching him mid-snap.
“Maybe,” he replied playfully, grinning. “But only because you look cute while you work.”
“Cute, huh?” she said, rolling her eyes but unable to suppress a smile. “Keep that up, and I might start thinking you’re flirting with me.”
“Would that be so bad?” he teased, leaning back on his hands, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Maybe not,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing slightly. “But let’s focus on unpacking first.”
“Deal,” he said, and they fell into a comfortable rhythm, chatting and laughing as they sorted through her belongings.
As the last bag was put away, Y/N finally felt a sense of calm washing over her. Nesting was important, and with Hyunjin’s support, she felt a little more at home. “Thanks for helping me,” she said softly, her gratitude genuine.
“Anytime, Y/N.” He paused, glancing toward the door. “Let’s get ready to leave, yeah? Practice starts soon and i think Chan will want us to have lunch before we leave,”
“Yeah,” she agreed.
🌱🍄🌻🥞
Dont forget to reblog and follow! <3
A/N: Finally! we've gotten the long awaited apology from Hyunjin!
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whiplash - e.m.
eddie munson x fem reader
warnings: teeny tiny violence, reader has a panic attack, eddie is the sweetest, eddie and reader are in college
a/n: this is absolutely inspired by my first experience being shoved into a mosh pit at an avenged sevenfold concert when i was a wee teen. i hope you enjoy xx.
also shout out to my love @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me with the title and some of the dialogue, and my bby @undead-supernova for beta reading for me. ILY BOTH SO MUCH 💕
hot, sweaty bodies were pressed against you at all angles, nearly suffocating you. at this point you couldn’t even see the band playing on the stage, a sea of taller bodies now blocking your view.
when your best friend asked you to attend a metallica concert with her you didn’t exactly know what to expect.
but this definitely wasn’t it.
the small venue was packed, the air filled with the smell of sweat, marijuana and cigarettes. your choice of a leather jacket felt incredibly stupid as it was now tied around your waist due to the growing heat surrounding you.
your palms felt clammy as they clutched onto the hem of your friend’s shirt. the constant moving of the crowd seems to pull her farther and farther away from you. until the swirling pit of metalheads swallowed you both whole, losing sight of her head of blonde hair instantly.
your panicked shouts of her name were drowned out by the screech of an electric guitar— your body now being shoved around to the chants of ‘pounding out aggression.’ the song eerily fitting as you see a ringed fist connecting with another man’s jaw.
your heart is beating in your ears, that familiar feeling of panic washing over you as you continue to be shoved around like a rag doll amongst the group of men. until you somehow landed on top of someone… who had been knocked to the ground only moments before you.
before you have time to react a large hand quickly wraps around your forearm, yanking you up and out of the dizzying circle of death. you all but let the stranger carry you through the crowd. the male shoving past throngs of people until you’ve safely reached the back of the bar.
you barely register his voice as you lean against the brick wall, chest rising and falling at an embarrassingly fast rate. your eyes squeeze shut as you attempt to get your breathing under control. those same hands that pulled you out now rest carefully on your shoulders, helping to ground you.
“hey sweetheart, you alright?”
his face finally comes into focus as you blink your eyes open, your heart now beating against your ribs for a completely different reason.
he was painstakingly gorgeous, full lips lifting up into a soft, dimpled smile. “there she is— hey man can i get some water?”
he slaps his hand on the bar top, the clear liquid sloshing out as a glass is slid over to him. his chunky rings clink against the side when he grips it, now holding it up to your lips.
“it’ll help, trust me.” you gladly take the glass from him, gulping down the lukewarm tap water.
“thank you…” you mumble, setting the now empty glass back on the bar and wiping the corners of your mouth. you mentally forceyourself to stay put, despite the bigger part of you wanting to run out of the bar from sheer embarrassment.
“are you here by yourself?” he asks and you shake your head in reply before resting it against the brick wall behind you.
the brunette seems to be studying you while you take in some slow but shaky deep breaths. letting yourself do the same as your heart begins to return to a normal rhythm.
even in the muted light you can see his dark curls were damp with perspiration, bangs sticking to his forehead. no doubt from being in the middle of that pit for quite a while. his cut off band tee showed off an extensive collection of tattoos. that soft smile morphs into a small smirk, as you realize you’ve been gawking at him.
calming breaths long forgotten.
“you can g-go back out there… w-wouldn’t want to keep you from the show.” you fumble over your words, now finding the sticky floor and your beat up sneakers far more interesting than the gorgeous metalhead before you.
the male chuckles, casually resting his shoulder against the wall next to you. his hot breath fans over your cheek when he leans in closer, “not a chance, sweetheart. until we find your friends, you’re stuck with me.”
you glance back up at him, surprise crossing your features. you knew most people would gladly leave you behind in the shadows, especially considering the band that’s owning the stage. that sentiment alone makes the butterflies raging your insides flutter even faster. the chaos of the crowd is now forgotten as he grins sweetly down at you.
“i’m eddie, by the way.”
the music has seemingly gotten louder since the two of you left the crowd, now having to shout your name back in reply despite the lack of space between you. his smile only widens as you turn to face him fully, crossing your arms over your chest.
“and what is a fair maiden like yourself, doing in a place like this?”
you can’t stop the giggle from leaving your lips as he gestures dramatically around the dingy bar before his dark eyes are back on you.
“oh no reason at all… just needed a study break.” he can tell from the ride the lightning t-shirt adorning your frame that you’re teasing him, but he plays along anyway.
“so you stumble into a random metal concert, only to get caught in a circle of death? that’s quite the break, sweetheart.” he nudges your foot with his own, earning another giggle from you.
“something like that, yeah.”
he hums in response, running a hand through his unruly curls, “duly noted— i’ll have to take study breaks like that more often.”
the two of you quickly fall into easy conversation, no longer paying attention to the concert goers surrounding you.
despite having only met him less than half an hour ago, you both seem quite comfortable with each other. any embarrassment from your small panic attack now a fleeting memory as he tosses his head back with laughter. the sound warming you from the inside, out.
“gotta say i’m a little shocked, first show and you’re already hitting the pits like a pro.” he jokes, leaning in a little closer to you. the scent of his spicy cologne washes over you, making your head spin, “practically took that guy out by sitting on him.”
you groan in embarrassment, playfully shoving his shoulder as he laughs again.
“i’ll have you know i’m quite fond of the music… just not the…” you gesture towards the sea of bodies that are jumping, shoving and headbanging to for whom the bell tolls.
“moshing?” he finishes for you, as you nod sheepishly.
before he has a chance to say anything else, a loud squeal fills your ears as a body slams into you at full force. nearly knocking you over in the process.
“there you are, babes! i’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
earlier you would’ve been relieved to hear your best friend’s voice, but now you can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. hoping your emotions aren’t written across your face, but she doesn’t seem to notice. she’s a little too preoccupied with staring at the male leaning next to you.
“now who is this?” her tone is overly playful, wiggling her eyebrows at you suggestively.
before she can embarrass you further, you elbow her in the ribs. effectively stopping anything else from leaving her mouth besides a little huff.
“eddie munson, certified mosh pit rescuer at your service ladies.”
he does a little half bow, causing both of you to break into a fit of giggles.
“wow… a modern day knight in shining armor huh?” she teases but seems impressed nonetheless, “wish i had a hot guy to pull me out of there, i basically had to army crawl my way out.”
even in the shitty bar lighting you can see his cheeks are tinted pink from her compliment, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.
“it was nothing really, just happy to help.” he shrugs before pushing himself off the wall, sliding his hands in the pockets of his ripped jeans.
“modest too? where did you find him?” she gushes, gently bumping her hip into yours. “and does he have a brother?” she whispers that part to you, ignoring the way you roll your eyes at her.
“well i see you’re in good hands now, sweetheart, i hope you enjoy the rest of the show.”
as he turns to leave you feel your friend shove you forward, giving you a look that screams, ‘are you insane? don’t let him get away!’
“eddie, wait!” you shout, gently tugging on the male’s wrist before he gets too far. that dimple making another appearance as he turns back to you.
“miss me already?” eddie teases, fully enjoying the flustered look that crosses your features.
“i uh, i-i’d really like to thank my knight in shining armor properly… maybe over coffee?” you nervously chew on your lower lip, praying that you didn’t read this entire interaction wrong.
but seeing his face light up squashes any doubt, watching as he grabs a pen off the bar. holding the cap between his teeth as he takes your hand, scribbling his phone number onto your palm with a satisfied grin.
“looking forward to it, sweetheart.”
he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand before disappearing into the rowdy crowd.
tagging some moots who seemed interested 💛
@babygorewhore @hellfirenacht @thepurplelovewitch @impmunson @voyeurmunson @madelynraemunson @take-everything-you-can @corrodedcorpses @serasvictoria @munsonhoneybaby @splendiferous-bitch @eddiesxangel @taintedcigs
all dividers made by yours truly 💕
#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson meet cute#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson fic
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Injured (Alexia's Version) VII
Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader
Summary: You get sick again
For matches that aren't important and are played outside of Spain, you don't go with Mami.
You spend time with Olga and Jaume at home and watch Alexia on the tv.
Currently, she's in Germany for a friendly. It had been a good match, a draw that helped the staff work out rotations and different on-pitch chemistry between players.
Now though, Alexia has dipped out of dinner early to give her family a call.
Olga picks up, obviously. It's late in Spain but still a little too early for Olga to be dressed in her pyjamas.
"Hi," Alexia says," How are you? How are the kids?"
Olga gives her a little tight lipped smile. "We've got the case of the sniffles today."
The camera flips to display you and your brother.
Jaume has gotten older now and is developing at an alarming rate to Alexia. You hadn't hit your milestones for ages while Jaume seems to be hitting all of his early.
He's sitting up by himself and babbling and trying to crawl now and Alexia hates how quickly he's growing up.
He's in his pyjamas too, one of your very old train-patterned onesies, and he's sitting right next to you as you run one of your electric trains around the track.
Your hair is messy and sticking upright and your nose is all red and you keep sniffing and wiping at it.
Alexia's eyes dart to Jaume and she notices the red flush to his cheeks.
He sneezes suddenly and it seems to spark you into your own round of sneezes.
Something in Alexia's stomach curdles and she sits upright in bed.
"How bad is it? Are they okay? Have you taken them to the hospital yet?"
Flashes come to Alexia's mind, of that horrible time when you both had meningitis and all the horror that came with it.
"It's just the sniffles," Olga assures her but the swirling of her stomach doesn't stop," And some sore throats. They've had some medicine and we've been having a pj day today."
"I'll come home," Alexia says. She props her phone up on the table and starts packing. She doesn't even fold her clothes, just callously throwing them back into her suitcase.
"Alexia...We're fine here, I promise."
"No." Panic creeps into Alexia's body now, coursing through her veins like adrenaline. "No, I'll come home. It's fine. You can't be expected to take care of two sick kids at once and-"
"Olga?"
Your sweet voice on the phone cuts Alexia off and she falls silent.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"My head hurts."
"Oh, I'm sorry, bambi."
The phone moves until it's propped up on something and Alexia is greeted by the sight of Olga sitting down on the floor, pulling you into her lap.
Her hand immediately goes to check your temperature.
"We've got another hour before I can give you some more medicine," She says," Do you think you can last until them?"
You nod, picking up your controller and making your train whizz around the track again.
Jaume cocks his head to the side, looking between you and Olga before he bum shuffles even closer and attempts to clamber into your lap like you're sitting in Olga's.
It's a sweet scene and Alexia would have loved to coo over it had she not been racked with guilt at leaving while two sickly children were still at home.
She can't even understand how Irene leaves Mateo like this and he was more prone to illness than you and Jaume ever were.
The call lasts for hours and Alexia remains mostly silent.
You get to hold the phone while Olga takes Jaume to bed and you look at the screen with Alexia's face on it with a little frown.
"When are you coming home, Mami?"
You sound so hopeful that Alexia almost bursts into tears that instant, already feeling her throat closing up slightly.
She pushes through the feeling though and replies," Soon, bambi. I'm going to get on a flight as soon as it's your bedtime and I should be home by the time that you wake up."
You sniff though it only serves to make your nose feel even more stuffy. "Mami," You say," Are me and Jaume gonna have to go to hospital? I don't want to see the mean man again."
"No, bambi," Alexia assures you," You're not going to see the mean man. It's just the sniffles. You take your medicine and you'll be completely fine."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Despite Olga's words, Alexia makes her excuses to the staff and gets the first flight back to Barcelona.
It's dark when she gets home and she orders a taxi to bring her right to the doorstep. She fiddles with her keys for a bit, completely missing the keyhole multiple times in her haste to get in.
Jaume's bedroom is first on her way up the stairs so Alexia dips into his room to check on him. He's peacefully asleep, cuddled up with one of the stuffed trains you gave him a few weeks ago.
His cheeks are still a little red and his nose is definitely blocked but apart from that he looks healthy enough and Alexia heads straight into your room.
It's dark so she picks her way through it carefully only to find that you're not in your bed.
You're sick and not in your bed.
Blind panic settles under Alexia's skin as she looks around wildly, tripping over your train track in her hurry to wrench open your wardrobe door.
You're not there either and Alexia stubs her toe as she forces your door open to burst into her own room, intent on telling Olga that someone's broken in and kidnapped you.
"Alexia?" Olga's wide awake, sitting up in bed with a book. "What is it?"
You're lying next to her, fast asleep though you look a tad distressed. Your hand is tight around the fabric of Olga's shirt and you're breathing heavily out of your mouth because your nose is all stuffed up.
"I came home," Alexia says.
"I know," Olga replies," I waited up."
"I checked on Jaume. He looks better."
"He is. They both are. Little miss just needed someone to sleep next to tonight. She was scared the doctor was coming to take her."
Alexia changes quickly, slipping into bed on your other side and curling around you.
"And you swear it's just the sniffles?"
"Just the sniffles," Olga says," They'll be good in a few days."
And you are.
Though Alexia hovers incessantly for almost a week afterwards.
#woso x reader#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso
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War is Over || F1/F2
type :: fluff
tw/cw :: none
contains :: carlos, charles, lando, oscar, max, ollie, paul, pepe
summary :: the 2024 is finally over, which means they get to come home and finally relax with you
xmas celly here! || f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist
Carlos Sainz | 55
Skiing sounded terrifying for you. The risk of injury, the freezing cold, not being to control your movements, all of it seemed so scary. But Carlos peer-pressured you into it, which you couldn't be more grateful for. Although he's already experienced, almost at a pro's level, he still waited for you and taught you everything he knew.
There was no embarrassment in it either. He was so gentle and understanding when teaching you, always holding your hand, tucking your hair back into your cap, and cleaning your visor. It was hours filled with giggling at your mistakes and Carlo's poorly worded explanations.
But in the end, you managed to get the hang of it slightly, only doing small ramps and gliding around. He's never been prouder. He starts filming you like a facebook mom and he WILL 100% post it on his story.
Charles Leclerc | 16
Being so busy with driving makes him unable to do what he really loves, which is piano. So once it's Christmas time, he has get back his skills. But even though piano is usually played solo, he always tries to add you into it.
Either by letting you sit right next to him and sing the lyrics. Or letting you play the right-hand notes while he does the left-hand notes. He's very passionate about his music, always going into long rants about the musical choices he made and his biggest inspirations.
You can't help but just admire his nerdy-ness. It's so fun to hear the calming piano and his long rants, which helps you sleep. Which he doesn't even get mad at, instead he just drapes a blanket over you and continues playing.
Lando Norris | 04
Winter isn't something Lando wants to experience often. Of course, he loves to go snowboarding or watching the snow fall, but his comfort comes from the sun. So when the season ends, he's instantly telling you to pack your bags and prepare for an Australian "winter".
Which is perfect, since that's Oscar's hometown. So now you're stuck in Australia with your dumb ahh boyfriend and Lily's not-as-dumb-boyfriend. But you don't mind, it's great to get a bunch of double date time, discuss the grid drama, and more. Lily is basically your sister, you're almost more excited to see her than you are to see Lando.
But of course, he'll go back home to London with you so you can meet his family and have the true winter experience. He'll play in the snow, make an unbelievably disproportionate snowman, and possibly,,, just maybe,,, make a drawing in the snow with pee...
Oscar Piastri | 81
Christmas time means it's time for him to be his real self: a professional bed-rotter. Going out is so tiring for him, and he's sick of it. So prepare for weeks on end of just staying indoors, cuddling, ordering take out, and debating over movies.
Even though you're staying indoors mostly, it's never boring with him. Mainly because he has awful movie opinions. For example, he watched "Home Alone" with you, only to root for the kidnappers to take Kevin... Or when he was rooting for Voldemort to kill Harry just to thicken the plot.
Truly awful ideas, but you love debating them and hearing his logic behind it. Despite being drama free on the grid, he can't help but love the drama on screen. So, once you're done with every Christmas movie: it's time for Love is Blind, Love Island, and more shitty TV shows with even more shitty opinions.
Max Verstappen | 01
Racing was fun for Max, of course it is. But so is just staying home and being able to be a normal person. He really enjoys having time to himself just to think and enjoy the peace and quiet before he's forced to be back into a world filled with cameras, mics, and more.
So you two just do domestic tasks. Like grocery shopping, picking Christmas gifts, cooking together, and more. It's simple, but he loves it to death. There's been so many times throughout the season where he just wanted to call in sick so he could do something chill with you.
The only con is that he's an awful cook... And awful for grocery shopping... And he's not up to date with the kids,,, and picks the most awful gifts...
But thank god you're there to help! You'll be there to laugh at his stupid mistakes and help him do better, which he loves.
Oliver Bearman | 87
Family is one of the most important things to Ollie. He's who he is because of his family, so be prepared to be with his family almost every single week. Although it was scary at first, his family greeted you with open arms.
His sister loves you and gets to be girly with you. You go shopping with her and talk about the gossip at her school. His brother and you both team up to bully Ollie and prank him. His mom is so sweet and always treats you like her own daughter, giving you the best dinners and gifts. And his dad is so caring towards you, being more protective of you than Ollie.
It makes Ollie start to feel like HE'S the in-law instead of you. But he never complains, instead he's so grateful to have you. He couldn't ask for anyone better.
Paul Aron | 17 <3
You know those dumbass shirts at Walmart that say "Eat, Game, Sleep, Repeat"? That's the exact moto Paul lives by, but except it's training instead of gaming. Which means he's never had the chance to be able to fully relax. Even during summer vacation, he would sneak away to go to the gym or even fucking sneak a hand-grip onto the plane. This man is ADDICTED.
So you help him calm down, which is very needed. You take him to do all the fun stuff that he should be doing. But you know he's very concerned for losing his abs and muscles, so you make sure to make it a physical activity.
This means going to ice rinks, walking for miles in winter-themed towns, and even trying most aggressive ice sports. Things like skiing, snowboarding, and even hockey. Although you're not good at all of them, Paul is there to help.
Despite him just starting these sports too, he's already a pro at it. So now it's a time filled with giggles and laughs as you try all of these new activities together.
Pepe Marti | 21
It's well known by everyone that Pepe is one of the very few drivers in university. So this winter break is used by him to not only study, but also catch up with friends. You and him get to experience and cozy winter, filled with cuddling, procrastinating on homework, and hanging out with friends.
You hangout with not only his university but of course, the trio. Christian and Sebastian are so fun to hang around with and they're super sweet to you. It's as if they're your brothers who annoy the shit out of and Pepe.
100% Chris is the oldest sibling, Pepe is a middle child, and Sebs is the annoying youngest. You guys all mess around by playing stupid games, screaming karaoke, riding carts in Target, and more. Just a true college experience with the nicest people ever.
xmas celly here! || f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist
#f1#f2#f1 x reader#f2 x reader#formula 1#formula 2#carlos sainz x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#max verstappen x reader#ollie bearman x reader#paul aron x reader#pepe marti x reader#xmas celly!#christmas#formula reserve drivers#cause lwk idk what to tag paul as...#but love him to death anywayssss
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The Sweeter the Wheat
# pair: post-seattle!jackson!ellie x reader
## summary: There is no better birthday gift than loving her.
### reader discretion is advised: romance angst, fluff, bit suggestive towards the end, alcohol consumption, jesse is alive (he thought ahead this time), loser!ellie, sometimes!awkward!ellie, sometimes!cheekyandflirty!ellie, reader is sickenly envious and a bit nosy, but aware, ravenous and tipsy makeouts, sappy shit. #### a/n; listened to "to all of you" by syd matters + "cardigan" by taylor swift while writing parts of it.. got a love/hate relationship with this fic but it slaps i guess
WC: 7.7k+ | DON'T BUY TLOU | PALESTINE MASTERPOST | MASTERLIST | ART BY @trackinglessons | DISCORD SERVER
SPRING SUN
“At least we got back before her birthday. Psh—‘magine that sweet tooth havin’ to commemorate her twentieth with nuts and jerky.”
Jackson tholes the bright spring against countless heavy hearts, numb from the death groans of winter. Under the melted snow, came old meadows, but nobody returned to comb through them. Only to pluck them bare of flora for a sole reason—a sole person—and not in the name of beauty.
Some meadows were stabbed through. Pierced into, made into a final home for the dearly departed he.
Time slipped slowly.
“Huh?”
Jesse sits at the tail of the bar, mumbling somethings that fly right past your ears. The diner is packed and the jukebox softly plays, but that of joy and conversation rules, so all nearby speech that is spat has become hodgepodge, herding your brain to run where the world is quiet. Given that, and the subtle significance in the day around you, you feel less than yourself. Immaterial.
There's a rightful wager that you didn't hear Jesse at all. Something about birthdays, maybe.
You pull yourself from the stars with a head-shake, having to retire the tiny notepad in your clutch. “Sorry, I completely tripped out just then. Why are we talking about birthdays—whose birthday are we.. talking about?”
Jesse appeared to be in doubt that your star-scaping moments were over; his features contorting more and more into disbelief as you gave him that barely curious squint. Poor him for having to be offended for somebody else.
A special somebody else at that!
His drawl comes in handy, “Come on, man. Four years strong and now you wanna forget that girl's birthday?” a voice so versed in pettiness, you could smack it right from his clever, grinning lips.
At whim, you almost do. But then his words fall into perfect place; that subtle signifigance makes all the more sense.
Spring: dappled in sunlight and vigorous in the trees, seems lovelier than it would in March or May. Seas of crimson and clovers thrive in the middle of April, and so does the red in her hair—soft, auburn tines—and the meadows in her earnest and shiny eyes. Recently dim, bruised and disheartened. But there, and unplucked at least, above the freckles you least regret missing when vengeance and a clue drove her out of this large, timber sanctuary. Home.
Every year on this day, the sun is relentlessly beautiful. No wonder, you think, now that you remember.
It's Ellie's birthday.
“Shit,” you curse, chewing at your guilty lip. “Is Ellie hiding out today as well? Haven't noticed her walking the thoroughfare at all.” Through the idle-talk, your hands find stray porcelain to retrieve and pile in the sink, scoffing at the liters of coffee that inevitably go cold in forgotten mugs.
“Do you notice anything working behind that counter?”
“Duh, dipshit,” you spout, back-talking him shamelessly, “I noticed you ambling towards the window earlier and knew my ears were in for a grating punishment.” Minding your eyes on nothing but the various plates you grab, the clutter clears fast. Like a damn robot.
He raises his hands in defense. “Hey, not my fault patrol’s been on cruise control this week.” With a part of the counter graciously tidied by your speedy work, he reclines in the barstool and claims that space with his lower legs, off to the side. Blissfully permission-less. “Can't say the same for here, though.”
You draw in a prefacing breath, tilting a cup at him. “You could if you hel—”
“No chance.”
“Fuck you, Jess,” you reply wielding a nickname given for occasions of defeat, little knives glaring from your eyes. “Thought this friendship had a no-questions-asked sort of thing. You've disgraced me.” Cueing that age-old love for drama, you gild the lily; mock a drama-queen. Hand to your heart and a pout to your mouth.
Hating Jesse is out of the picture, and hate is an easy pill to swallow. Sure, you two bark blank insults from time to time, but it's all in good humor. You just get each other too well. A hitch fated to click. A shoulder to violently sob into.
Jesse tuts at you, rolling a smug pair of eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Diners just aren't my thing, as infected aren't yours.” He reaches and grasps his mug of coffee that'd been basking there ever since you whipped up his usual, content in keeping his gob flat for the ‘noon.
And you're content in the casual peace and company. Always are. It coerces you to fulfill orders quicker, you would say. Here you stand, in perfect function, machine of the cogs.
That's how all days streak by here. A warm sun arises, and the hustle and bustle of human nature crowds every faded red booth in here, as your kin would have you sustain, and you sustain it fine enough. Even with the latching, mostly silent presence of your best bud Jesse to keep boredom a stranger and insanity a myth. Peckish lips, thirsty throats; everybody. All famished faces of Jackson, satisfied in the wake of your work. All, save one.
Ding!
At the entrance, you hear the jingle of the tiny, golden bell topping the door, and it doesn't intrigue you to investigate. Everyone is a frequenter, and you're basically omnipresent; sensing who it is and where they're routed to before they even sit. Call that perfect function.
Abruptly, the vintage magazine Jesse blankly browsed through is smacked back in place, and his throat clears. “First customer to break the hour-long streak. Let's see who—” he trails, and a dramatic pause thickens the air. Surprise loudly ensues. “Oh, ain't that funny. Look what fate dragged in.”
“Is it not a regular?” you ask, and at last perk your chin up. Intrigue clasps you now, as Jesse thought it atypical enough to point out.
Turns out, it isn't a regular at all.
Fate was a scary portrayal, as fate—and unfinished threads—would have you snuck into a corner and stranded for her to find. Plaid and blue, stood Ellie, lost as a doe in tangled woods, yet tall with purpose in front of that swinging glass door. From here, you notice her right arm supported in a white sling and twisted into her chest, right off the bat, as you did the night of return. Changes were made, obviously, sprigs of marker detailing the canvas-color of it, no doubt produced by those pesky kids in-town. Her tattoo is sorely invisible behind the bandages too; you've always liked that thing.
She's a bona-fide crush. A red-headed angel.
There and then, you recall why your heart reawoke into a prance that night she returned head to toe in dry, aged blood. You felt the revival of an inner-warmth, tracing fingers over the stitches in her back as she hunched in repressive quietude. Felt the moon evaporate off your skin, felt her wrist tensen in your palm as you dressed the wounds in hers. Felt the elusive moment staying became going, as it wasn't right.
You went straight home and threw right up, that very night. Her cold, marred skin was as deathly-like as the skin of a corpse. And you trailed your fingertips, all over it.
Strange. In a week, her flesh has been suppled of life. Hale, blushing and glowing as in younger days.
In your heart: a tremor. It reaches up every time you swallow, and blooms its beat, pounding at the pit of your throat. You don't feel real, you feel light, you feel fright. You feel the past, waking from a slumber in you, emerging breathless beyond the surface. So many things.
You feel fourteen again.
“Guess her ears were burning,” mumbled Jesse, polite enough to not transform your shared scrutiny into a scene, only so he could leave it in your hands. His head carefully turns, speaking softly, “You spoke to her at all, recently?”
“No,” a weighted breath departs you, and your shoulders repose. “Only the night she returned, while I tended to some of her travel wounds. Conversation wasn't easy to digest.” Shunning her very blatant presence, you pick your wash rag and begin again, foraging distraction.
“Bet not. Shit got hectic on the route Tommy picked,” he hums, and his eyes pursue once more to secretly follow her walking the opposite direction. Eyes you expectantly the second she slips into a booth. “Gonna take her order?”
You glower at his smug stare, knowing full well he intends to badger you into jumping the gun. Well, you're employed to do that, but, fuck fate! “Uh, duh? Di—”
“—Ipshit. Stop stalling.” He aims his hand, escorting you. “Birthday girl awaits.”
“Yeah, hold that smile. See what happens later.”
“Mhm.”
EXTRA SYRUP
Spectral hands suffocate your heart, and now your chest is tightened. Gut nervously sickened. There, she sits, seemingly absorbed by the air, and the sun that ripens with it. Thumbing at her nails, but not anxiously. Blowing at her lip, but not boredly. Hair dark ochre as the earth, yet fiery as the flaxen ray that pours into it. Tucked into a neat bun, as it was in December, January, and every paving year before. You like her hair that way.
She halved it up when Joel passed, and Seattle howled her name.
A lot about Ellie changed, really, but that is the perennial nature of water. Ellie is Neptune; a late-teenage girl experiencing a crucial shift into a new, individual season. Ones so seldom—they're cataclysmic, but temporary.
So much of her is eclipsed to the naked eye. Buried to make burrowing space for others. Just not you, it seems.
Every now and then, she glances as you intricately work your way over, a fist cupped to itself as if it alone safekeeps her deep and untold intentions; the warrant for sitting there. And you too, glance when her eyes smoothly retreat, dedicating pockets of this single, cherished minute to drink in little glimpses of her face. Trying to read her, read the shapes on her face if they indicate trouble, or truce. Last time you talked, you declared your resentment for being left worried and sleepless in Jackson.
Was it out of love?
Through the fair-haired light, that scar-heavy look on her features has noticeably abated, recapturing the tender warmth that gave her face the kind, puppy-browed ambiance you hesitated the world for. Gently laid brows, scarred the same as ever.
Those fucking freckles, too; a constellated map. Hidden miles and miles away for one sun and moon too many.
Not a mile bridges you both apart now, not anymore.
“Hey, Ellie,” you chime in, frail in respect of the one-mind conversation her idle stare partakes. Just her, and the spring sun. Sweet wheat skin is taken from its aerial shine as her head heeds your voice, a loose twine of auburn falling from place.
Your somber greeting fine-tuned the focus in her eyes, softening into a shape less spacious, more devoted.
And though away from underneath the boughs of sunlight, her eyes found a disembodied source. Dried moss, gleams into a violent sea glass, pupils taking in how you hold that notepad firm in thumbs and pointers.
For the first time in an age, you too, have changed.
The corners of her lips crease into her cheek. “Hey,” her reply mirrors the breathiness of yours, and her left arm low-arcs up to rest on the booth seat, body facing you head-on. Totally relaxed. “How come you didn't mention the job switch? Was lookin’ for you,” she asks curiously, a tinge of that sweet-talk peeking through her wide grin.
Now that you've stepped closer and garnered her attention, you can see and feel every notched nicety of her face on yours. You can only imagine how a swollen, sliced lip feels, and the continual migraines a fractured nose brings. Weeks of healing have swept by, but her afflictions in particular weren't petty.
“Guess it felt irrelevant to bring up when you got back. But you're here now, and you found me. So?” your tone edges on.
“Well, yeah,” she chuckles. “Did you not miss me?” She feigns offense; brows quirking and her tone pitching slightly.
You did.
A sigh starts in you, “Hard to not miss and worry for somebody when you picked up their slack in every patrol dating way back.” Barely nipping what you really felt with a snarky tease. “Oh shit, that rhymes,” you glance off and whisper to yourself, still loud enough to inspire mirth.
And it does; her forehead pinches and her voice rises in mirth, laughing casually and shifting in her seat to lean one elbow upon the table. “Ha— yeah,” she admits defeat. Ellie is undeniably cute when she does, always shrinks into herself and sinks into thoughtful conference, thinking of something—anything smart to knock you back into that corner. “Guess you're right. Hm, always were on my ass about that, huh?”
You tut, “Mhm. Missed my scolding in Seattle?” crossing a leg and bearing weight upon it.
“Nah,” she confesses briefly, and you barely believe it. Wringing in doubt at that sly smile she tries to conceal from you. “I learned my lesson this time.” Ellie glances up, a prayer written on her face asking you to hold your scolds. “Trust me.”
“Hurt enough this time?”
“Fuck you!” She punts you playfully in the ankle and begins a laugh again. “You’re not allowed to point that out!”
That was the way of things; Ellie would charge into a fight wearing her life on her chest, slackening the rules, and you had to reel her in. Tug the leash. It had you suspecting her to have a foolproof reason as her backbone, like she was daring the devil with eyes fearlessly open. Steadfast intent. She would lure runners to her, grapple them from you, or push you away beyond safety. Leave you to watch an animalistic vigor fill every bind in her body until you're convinced she’s either coming out bitten or scathingly torn.
You wish she saw how worrying she truly looked; a sweet face splattered hair to chin in the blood of infected, catching her breath and shaking the arm of the croaking infected she just slaughtered off her ankle. Being way too blithe-hearted for the sacred sake of everyone involved.
“Don't worry about me.”
One day, when she asked you with her solemn eyes to be afraid, you thought she finally trusted you to handle yourself past her overprotective nature. Then, one clicker got too close for comfort, and she retracted the pact of fighting equally. Losing more than what her blade owes the earth would prove her fears to be a product of her unsacrifice.
Ellie figured it was half the reason you quit patrol duty, but not that it was fully the reason you anguished over her leaving for Seattle later on; her appetite for violence.
She accepts it so easily. But even when you had sworn she had place in something as simple as retiring from patrol and nothing else, she smelt the sugary scent of a white lie. Joel did it before. She never accepted it under a gentle radar. Instead, it had her wondering if she had upset you, if you would forgive the crimson melodrama and still take her up on breakfasts at ten when she returned. Regardless if you painted the full picture in the end, apologies spilled alike to winded waters out of this girl; sorry that she still could not stomach you tagging along for vengeance. Never-ending sorries, and you lapped each one up. Brought gaping arms around her and absorbed all the ugly and hopeless sounds. You wanted to prove her fears wrong, but perhaps it was time fear let you be the lamb. Live and let live.
Then, Dina would step in, and Ellie would be wrapped around her finger in sudden laughter. Happy and unhurt. Couldn't even remember what occurred before her sun entered the room, and dried those tears.
Crimson melodrama is all you preserved when abandoned, and is all you could look at her with when in longing.
The winter dance had your guts up to your throat.
Seattle, inexplainable.
You don’t hate Dina; your envy lies with the disconnection of it all.
“What do you recommend?” she questions, and her eyes anticipate you to be the ultimate apocalyptic-dining expert. Locked and attentive. She then begins to shake her head in gesture, planting the menu down. "I don't— I don't usually go to these kinds of places, so.. What do you think?" she awkwardly giggles, tapping the menu's plastic sleeve.
Tension presses a smile onto your lips at her inelegance. "Nobody does, not even people who went to these places before the outbreak," you opine, swapping the notepad to one hand and sliding into the booth. "It's okay. I mean.. hmm, what do you prefer? Sweet or salty?"
Her eyelids flick down, fingers coming to lace together as her eyes traverse the options. "Uh, I guess I— wait, wait," she interrupts herself. A swift finger draws you to look down at the menu, "You guys make pancakes here?" green eyes gaping at you with pupils more voracious than her stomach—or her sweet tooth.
"Yeah."
"I'll have that then."
It was a steadfast verdict. The sweet honey pancakes, she shall have, at the cost of a couple minutes and a couple ingredients. But it isn't traditional for birthdays, so you weigh in. “Just pancakes? I mean.. Faye is back there if you want something a little more celebrator—”
“—I'm not really a blow-the-candles-out and make-a-wish type of person,” she corrects you, brows cinched in as she rambles. Then, her free hand scoots the menu forward. “But you already knew that, you just insist otherwise,” she chuckles, unable to meet eye and eye.
True. Your soft insistence dawns from wanting nothing less than heaven inside everything for her, and maybe a dash of that sweet-sweet crush on her. But, Ellie is so staunch in being the humble girl that doesn't glorify every recorded happening with string lights and a wish hurled into the uncaring universe bent upon nurturing demised, late lights young girls reach for. She kept everything low-key: a small garage get-together on her last birthday, the one before that, and the one predating those two. Alcohol in your palms and movies playing back to back. Budding distorted laughs and tumbles into each other. Birthday things.
The remnants of her fifteen-year-old mind hangs aimlessly inside that museum. Dangled and stretched into archaic bones. On the day of return, she arrived happier than a sunflower drunk on the sun. Broad smiles and whatever else.
Wasn't for long.
“Forget you're so down-to-earth and reserved about all the fun things,” you snarkily deliver, retiring that still empty notepad behind your back. Memory shall serve. “Will that be it then?”
“Are you saying I'm not fun?”
“I'm saying you need more of it.” You emphasize with a tiny bounce-up on your calves, tilting your head north. Though, nothing she uttered was wrong and so your voice silkily drones on, “And that.” You act the lack of a ruder way to insinuate. “But yeah, okay. One order of pancakes coming up.”
“Cool, I'll uh—have a 'celebratory' drink in the meantime?” She nudges the menu towards you once again, irises pulled thin on themselves. Thoroughly staring; your reflection in a bead of black.
You have to laugh, kindly laugh. “No alcohol here, dumbass.”
“Oh. Right.” Her doe-stare only crescendoed from there, shying away at the result of her asking. Something reluctant is lodged in her pale throat, stumbling out only when it feels imminent as you turn away. “D-Do you wanna chat, afterwards? There's so much bullshit surrounding Seattle I have to catch you up on and I-I didn't before, so.."
Swinging your head back, you gauge that mercurial girl there. Tripping up her request like it couldn't escape hibernation from her head any quicker than insult does.
Faye shouldn't mind. “'Course, I was left to wonder about everything since that night anyway.” Your boss might even encourage it; knowing that your long-standing crush for her—heartbreaking to fathom, beautiful to feel—never swept you from rambling Ellie into some fairytale, so she would use it to psych you into asking her out. Jesse, too. Damn the nosy ones!
But it's the one thing that keeps you worried now.
“Cool, cool. Oh, hey, add extra syrup will you?”
What does Ellie think of you?
“Mhm,” syrup is nowhere as sweet as your hum. “Got it.”
Does she think of you at all?
MOUTHS ALL-CONSUMING AND DEPRIVING
Minutes in, minutes out, wallowing at that ruby-red booth fed the realization to Ellie that the nerves feeding off her anxious chest could not combat conversation alone. She needed an aid. Liquid courage. Velvety smooth and robust.
Fortunately for betting gods and heaven-watching anyones, leftover whiskey from the last bonfire made stock in her cloistered, chaotic cabinets. So it founded no surprise that it whirled to mind after the celebratory-drink fact; leading you here, in her bedroom, on her bed. She pours whiskey into stubby glasses, One for her, one for you, and a lucky extra two for further along this unexplored line. Nothing overflowing limits.
But, oh boy, did it make you all lovey-dovey.
Her lips move and they dance over words, but all you hear is your own enamoration of how heart-shaped they are. You see, but fail to hear and comprehend. Floating aimlessly into those freckles, again. Something a fourteen-aged, sanguine mind would do.
Ellie was relaying Seattle to you, she prefaced. Prefacing didn’t aid you in paying attention, though. Today is not your sharpest, it dates to be your most absentminded. Not your usual, at all.
Nods are swayed to every shock-value word that you manage to understand, but the star-crossed rest, you miss, and replace with whatever story her pupils trace. They flit to read your face after each end of her sentences, so it has you thinking too much of her time has slipped without the company of a listener, and now that her time slips into you, she can use it to stretch your expression with whatever witty remark she makes.
She did one day blurt that your laugh compliments your smile—or however that fucking flirt threw it over the crackle of that bonfire.
In fact, when you begin to let parts of her body neck-down from her face distract you, only then do you decipher how much she has grown in a month.
She pitches her drink to sip, and your eyes are hot on that glassy trail, artistically concerned with the way she swills down whiskey: fluently gulped, throat bobbing, the scar on her lip licked clean. Her brows too, have thickened, much so as her leathered skin, her callouses. She traces her thigh in circles repeatedly—a fidgety habit—and her lips purse and tug and wrinkles hug and press said lips when they are prettily wide.
Every high noon or low point of her body was different, and you have missed a great many things you care too much about to not appreciate every brink and midst. You don't want her to be lost to otherworld winds without studying her presence harshly. She is in your scrutiny, now more than ever.
“So, do I get to see my pancakes yet, or?”
“Oh, oops.” You snap out of your woolgathering, wagging your head left to right. Then briskly as you assented her invitation, you slide your knees under you, reorganizing your seating. “Can't blame me for being so invested in your epic tales. Could totally be a comic narrator for the school in town.”
Ellie had already been sat skyward. Sprawled at one leg and tucked at the other, arm in her lap, where her whiskey is nestled. “Oh, sure,” she says with a sarcastic edge. “Those kids are a bunch of little shits. They would probably interrupt me with fart jokes or make actual fart sounds than sit still and pay attention for thirty minutes.”
“Hmm,” you hum, short and atonal, peeling the corner of the plastic lid back. “And who do you think taught them those terrible jokes, huh?”
Soft lids narrow together to sharpen her gaze; glaring at your clever comment, lips propped slightly open. “Terrible?” An offended, toothy smile pulls on her lips. All sentences she could possibly muster up come crashing into each other; an agglomeration, “I—They aren't bad jokes—and they're puns, really, so they're actually pretty fuckin' smart,” she boasts with brows raised. “And It isn't my fault that every annoying kid picked them up and started repeating them.”
It most certainly is her fault. Hell, even you catch yourself reciting them at the crest of nightfall, giggling into your palm. Although, why she's trying so rigorously to plead her pun-enjoying case to you, might just be funnier. “Are you seriously trying to explain puns to me?”
“God,” she surrenders in a chuckle, and bows her head to introduce another quick sip to her parched lips. Ellie then eyes you for a blank second thereafter, tugging the plump of her lower lip through her teeth. Like contemplation has her hindered.
Around you, the lungs of the garage’s foundation inhale, and exhale; creaking and settling.
She dashes a huff. “You basically asked,” Ellie reminds you, her tone and eye-roll implying obviousness. “Can I eat my pancakes now? M'hungry.” Her face sutures into a pseudo-frown and encloses herself to a crisscross, impatiently behaving.
Now, as for the pancakes. Fluffy, biscuit brown, star-shaped, bountifully rivered in unrestricted syrup, topped off by a definitely-melted, humbled ingot of butter. Needless to say, you're pleased by what boredom and intact cooking-books taught you, and she hasn't even seen them yet.
The ask for a carryout-container was already in order the moment you set pace for her table, because you wound up in a near-catastrophe as she sought you out around the kitchens like a lost pup and maundered right into you. Thank patrol for instincts; it's the one thing you held an undying clutch to. And the sweet pancakes you proudly plated, making refuge on the counters as you cross-examined Ellie in case you injured her arm more.
Lucky girl was all fine and peachy, of course.
She only knocked you two right into that near-injury mess to invite you here. Persuasion sat readily in her throat incase you questioned her motives—most of her ideas turning out to be a little friend-group antic, never anything serious or singular—but you agreed to it in double-time.
“Think you might just be one of those kids at this point.” You gingerly tweak the rim of the plate you kept the pancakes on and lift it outside the container, planting it between all four knees.
“Eh, you're not so innocent yourself,” Ellie contends before she even casts her first peek at the hillock of starry sweetness, totally taken aback when she does. “Holy shit,” she awes, just as if she were a young teen again, “Are you kidding me?”
Labor-intended nights never slip soft through the gaps of your fastened fingers, not even days where your work period is abridged, but hey, strange, space-brain girls are far beyond ordinary exception. Hell, Ellie is vital! Commemorating the red angel you worship in the patterned and soapy act of cooping up on her bed, toasting to the moonlight and letting her talk your ear off for old times' sake is your approach to telling her you love her.
“Know I'm not a pancake-connoisseur, but I gave it a unique whirl. Just for you.” You held a fork out, gracing her with first honors. “Don't blame me if it gives you a stomachache,” your forewarn is a doubtful one; in your mind, morningtime will arise with an extra punch to her gut.
Ellie, however, stares right into the baying eyes of a challenge, snatching the fork from you. "Hey, if it's good enough for my tongue, then it's good enough for ma' gut!" and promptly after exclaim, gashes and tears her fork into the sweet, airy texture of the pancake, popping it past her sweet, berried lips. “Mhh—and I will blame you. So you end up feeling sorry n'take care of me.”
God, whatever souls you would sell to spend paradisal afterlife with this fool. Talking with a gob flush of the birthday project you're humiliated to be proud of. You scoff, “Asshole,” lightheartedly scornful as can be, and it snaps something to mind. Head tilting eye-to-eye, “Dina wouldn't be the one to?” you ask, right after she swallows.
That particular question seemingly struck a chord as her brows cinched together, eyes dropping with allusion. “No,” she says meekly, soft in the sound, but you can tell it came up heavy. Shadowed by a sigh, and an untimely chuckle. “Do you want to know?” She throws on a shrug that ripples through her head, sending it to hang lopsidedly. As the stout willow grows.
“Guess so,” you agree temperately, not wanting to seem too eager—even though with this topic, you just might be. Camouflage those old, foul feelings of envy. “Did Seattle have you kicking more ass than just Wolves and infected? Couldn't have been a very romantic tr—”
“Dina's pregnant.”
Silence carves it's way after that. Thick, tense and unyielding. You had words lined up but like a shot in stark night they've just—vanished, sunk back into the chamber. Nothing prepared you to hear that, “Pregnant?” lowering a hand to your belly where you swear your heart has pummeled to.
Ellie glances up, once at your widened face and once at your hand. A bite of humor works it's way above her chin; smugly smirking. “God, don't tell me you're pregnant now too.”
“What? No!”
Damn idiot. Should punch her right in the—nevermind.
Ellie is way too quick to make serious things unserious. “You're a damn menace,” you unapprovingly giggle.
“Am I?” Amusement raises her brows, tearing into the pancake with her fork for another bite. “Cause you seem to like menace.”
You adjust onto propped elbows, “Do I?” playing all nonchalant. “I mean, what do you mean by that?” your voice dims, expending for the small space that separates you and her.
“Mhh,” she contemplates with a purring sound, and shrugs. “Dunno.” Ellie retreats those eyes downward where you won't compel her to smile. You can tell she battles the letch to look up again, which—as proven in her case—doesn't fucking work. She shoots up carefully, and it's a conflicted gaze this time. “Not with Dina anymore, though. That’s the other thing.”
And we're back.
Having reconciled the chance, you retrace. Look at her with somber concern. “Did something between the two of you happen?” It's a gentle question, reinforced by the bulletproof stare you offer her to unwind in.
The air in her voice softens, “Sort of,” and the meridians of your body then become easier to look at as she continues, wrinkles in her brows. “Said some things I shouldn't have, and we.. figured it best to leave it at that. For now.” her explanation sounds desolate and attemptless, like she has sat in shadow and vigil accepting this fact and has given up on hope. Crestfallen and quieter; this isn't like her. Bent at her wrist, dangling that glass above her crisscrossed lap like a sad child pokes at the food on their plate.
“For now?” You hate that you pry, but that sick greed in your gut from times before haunts with a hunger for knowledge. Your envy that is enlightenment. Still, you hesitate to seem nosy, wanting nothing than to possibly just console your friend in need. “What's holding you back from.. calling it quits? The pregnancy?” You crane your body upright slowly.
“Just still feelin' bad.” Her fingers begin a tap-dance at the glass' rim. “I'm an asshole.”
You duck at the neck, searching for her downcast eyes. “Come on, El. I've only ever seen you rant and rave at middle-aged grumpy men and infected, no way it was that bad.”
“You weren’t there,” she insists otherwise with an earnest voice, inciting a refreshed sigh as she swigs her whiskey.
“Well, what did you say?” You are relentless. No, normally you would not condone it, but tonight, tongues are loose and boundaries are blurry. You miss your happy girl. “I could talk to Dina, if it helps.”
“Wouldn’t change shit.”
“If you love her, you would try.” Even if it sickens you.
Ellie slots her drink in her lap, and grouches. “Dude.” She pinches the bridge of her nose and stifles a groan, frustrated. It draws out in words without proper footing, “It's weird. We just don't know what to say to each other—I don't know what to say to her, it.. it's just how it is—it was a mutual agreement. None of your business, really.”
Her own tongue is a very obvious byproduct of nerves, whiskey, stress, by and large a lot of things. Being goaded, definitely.
How it is, is how it will be.
“She broke up with me.”
You didn't mean to goad her, but curiosity—and a kiss of alcohol and envy—ate your refrain. The lack of any eye contact or movements to stray from you thereafter her word is telling enough. That it aches her head, and a cold, guilty sweat crosses over your skin. It was a stupid thing to blurt. You feel fucking stupid for even saying that.
Fuck.
Her dry sniffle is noisy on your shortcoming, and has you scrambling to think. “Sorry, just been worried for weeks.” But you shrink into a ball of abraded arms and legs, conserving yourself into a shy, spotted egg of curiosity that clads no hatching cracks to be convicted of. “Thought you two finally getting together would be the dream to end all dreams.” What the fuck do you know anyway?
Her eyes watch through you, into you like water; she notices, and the pancakes are slid to the side. Shuffles of fabric clamber closer as she eats the inches between you two, her breath brushing your forehead. “Hey, hey. I didn't mean anything by it. It's fuckin' great that I got somebody I can drink with and mope to. Really. Just been shitty all around—Tommy? Fuck, he's been the worst lately.”
Everything ascends in temperature once her hand plants on the side of your neck, every nerve petrifies; unheard-of touch. She can feel the gasped tension in your throat, thumbing the muscles down.
“Don't worry about it,” she says, and her saying that amuses you.
A moth-eaten phrase in particular is what was said. You scoff at it, plopping your legs back out. “Dude.” You bite a smile into your lips. Sucks that such a hackneyed thread of words does so; you're really chewing back the urge to call her any byname of dumbass, per usual. But damn that sincere face on her face that sweetens the teasing deal for you. You settle for low-hanging fruit. “You always say that, Ellie.”
“Ugh,” she seconded a scoff back at you, grimacing coyly. “Don't you start.” Ellie drags her hand off, not intending for it to land smack-dab on your thigh. It takes her a second to register the sound, the texture, slinking her hand behind her when you say nothing.
“Start what?” you stutter a laugh, bringing your thighs together.
“Nothin,”
“Don’t bullshit me, WIlliams.” To educe her, you dig your foot into her side, poking her. “Does it have anything to do with only me being here and not anybody else?” You lean into her.
Ellie does too, an exact mirror of you. “No..” The only thing that contrasted you, was her hand again, seeking what was left behind on your thigh. “Just wanted to see you first,” her lips barely move besides a slick smirk. Voice tiptoeing through the air, the noise-level two clandestine lovers live at, in secret song.
“You fuckin liar. No hang-outs for weeks before you left and suddenly you want to see me?” You call bull when she relucts to raise her hung head, witnessing the corners of her lip curl. Her head twists away more, and you spearhead the first, little move: tuck that irkful strand of auburn with a single finger. “C'mon.. what is it?”
“Stupid,” she blatantly spits, and at last confronts your face with her puckish one—glimpsing down, and up, and down. Watching her grip flex into your leg intermittently, chewing her lip. “Mhh, maybe 'm starting it.”
Ellie is heart-poundingly close; her breath is now yours to breathe. You whisper, “Maybe you are,” perking yourself right up to her cheek, unnoticing of the ardor her eyes spin over your face. Unsure where to stare. You pretend the pressure on your thigh flies under the radar, too, and that your heart isn't in the middle of a love-logged swell, and your cheeks aren't tender from smirking at the feeling of it perched there. Love-struck death befalls, if else confessed, so you tease, tease, and tease to stomach your excitement. “Maybe, you're stalling on those pancakes because they actually gave you a stomachache. You feeling good?”
Her bitten lips part, and the next sensations you feel—are transcendental.
Wisping whispers so hot, and intoxicating on your skin, you fail to catch her hand coming up from your thigh to clasp your face, or that hers has shifted in front of yours. She breathes out, “Won't you shut up already?” through lips pulled into a smirk, and rushes to press it fondly against your mouth.
You wince—somewhere between an electrified gasp and a reaction of delight—into the kiss she stole, and it only beckons her to starve more for you. The heat of her whiskey breath pours into your mouth, and you drape your eyes closed. Scoring these seconds by, she spends them concentratedly rolling the skin together, others pushing and shying from the kiss, until she stills and bleeds out the pressure in a slow, wet smack. Hazily eyeing you for a response.
Once you feel her no more, your eyes blurrily creak open, and the corners of her lips at soft upturn greet you. Single creases at either side, the few freckles above them outspread.
Judgement renounces you, leaving you with pathetic pickings for reply. You aren't sure what she wants—or needs you to say. “Ellie?” daintily, a mumble flows onto her lips, and is far from a frail sound of concern. Intrigue encapsulates you.
What does this mean?
You think you know, but self-reason has always proven itself to be naive and too eager to trust.
By cruel emotion, she misunderstands you. “Sorry,” she pants out breathlessly, blowing the shape of it into your cleft lips and hovering right upon. Her fingers gouge the fabric clothing your chest, mangling it into her fist—an attempting grasp. This proximity is all she could ever dream of. “Is this okay?” Yet, dreams always sever at the apotheosis. So when she comes in for the second kiss, she wants no more for dreaming; the reality she yawns with hunger into, is insurmountable.
A dewdrop of something cold dribbles between you. Tears.
In turn, you misunderstand her. Using your own stubbornness to create an enigma. To think, that out of the blue, all of this would transpire? After endless wishes unanswered? You doubt it.
You love her, but you refuse the reality of it happening upon you.
Separating from the plush, licked skin of her lips fleetingly, you speak. “Is this you being drunk?” Only to be drawn back in without her processing your words right away, and then drawn back out. Intricate intimacy.
“Please,” Ellie begs, “Answer me, before I feel like an asshole again,” and chuckles sobbingly before her teeth feel rapaciously empty, and cannot tolerate it any longer. Instinct, and teeth nip your bottom, vulnerable lip.
Neither of you could be totally drunk, having only drank a modest portion.
So this is raw.
Thinly pulled, she slowly stretches it across the air between, and watches it spring back beneath eyelids sunken low. The action entails nothing else for her to feed satisfaction from, already panting right in your mouth in search of more as soon as your tongue descries the answer. “More than okay,” you heave in a passioned breath along that all-consuming, deprived mouth. Your hand squeezes her fist confirmingly.
It quenches her lust to know, a hot-blooded, moaned and voiceless curse snapping into your mouth. “I fuckin' love you.” Her rage softens in meeker kisses, peppering them up to the corners of your lips until she pauses, and pulls herself away. Her eyes turn troubled and adrenaline-rushed. Stains of tears shimmer beneath, along new ones that begin to plunge, and for the first time ever, you know they're yours. But then the flesh between frowns, the mood shifting, and she croaks, “Am I.. an asshole?”
It breaks you to hear that.
You glare, and stammer, “W-What? You aren't.” Hooking dearly onto her wrist when her hand glides up to rest against your cheek. “Why?”
“Cause I sprung this on you, 'nd I don't wanna force you to..” Ellie cranks to a halt, mouth screwing shut like her thoughts were too much to bear hearing aloud. “Fuck,” she quietly spews, cowering her face near your neck.
“Said it was okay,” you coo, clarifyingly coo, raking your fingertips up and through the tied loops of her hair. “The only asshole thing you'd ever done was not let me come with you.”
“I know.” Her eyes search for uncomplicated plains. The sheets, her lap, your neck. A kiss is planted as she tips her head, the gust thereafter a warm reminder of her sorries.
“Thought you were going to die.” You awoken in violent patterns, cold nights restless in bed, tossing and turning. Waking and falling into daydreams of how Jackson would feel missing a cardinal component. A girl to rave against dying lights. Thorns scale your throat at the thought. “You're reckless, y'know?” you mean it as a gentle insult, chuckling as it leaves your lips, and sealing it into her scarred palm. Kissing reckless consequences.
Her lips loiter on the pulse of your throat. They drag, and they drag.. sloppily limping over your jaw as she makes her way to observe you in her palm, mumbling low, and gravelly, “How many times am I gonna have to say it?” Ellie deems it redundant to tell you that she knows again, resorting to her own little gentle insult, “Such a fuckin' sap.”
“Says you.”
Her hand is comfortingly warm; you aren't fain to break away. But her fingers are curious, thumb nearly making it into your mouth before she second-guesses herself, easing it at the verge of your lips instead.
A longing moment of Ellie staring at the way her thumb looks—a decoration to your mouth—passes, and she responds, “Still alive, aren't I?” to that loose thread of a plea you forgot you even said. It calls you right over, bidding you to look into her eyes again as space finds itself thinning again, her scratchy, band-aided nose caressing yours. “Dumbass.”
She chuckles into your mouth as you chuckle into hers, cutting yourself off with a kiss that ebbs, and flows. Suckles, and smacks, snaking her tongue in for a change. That sweet, sweet wheat. Saccharinity you can't explore anywhere else other than the outline of her mouth. And you—of grunted volitions in her chest—take exploration further, replacing the grasp of her shoulder with the coursing of fabric, sliding under the hem of her shirt and palming the skin there.
You feel her skin breathe, her belly breathe into your hand, and a content wrinkle pinch between her brows. Her skin, is as soft as nothingness.
“You're a dumbass.”
Air clings to your cheek as her hand reaches around you, pressing fingerprints into the base of your head as to prop you for her delightments. Ellie is no amateur, enjoying you as if she knew you were hers without explicit pledge.
“Sure, babe,” she scoffingly counters, and pulls her tongue out of you, lips messiy shining. She scouts you out; lays eyes on your expression with undertones of satisfaction and presses an appetent bite right back into your damp skin, grunting into the filthy kiss.
Your mind is one-pathed right now; in the most maddened form, you crave the story further down her throat. In that warm space, is air thinned and balmy with the scent of alcohol and syrup. In those whimpers, is the sincere confession she held tight in throatly gloaming, all those intimate times before. In all of your yearnings, your lips never parted for more.
Two holes that want to consume each other.
Weeping, wailing, tormenting in an empty forever.
“Fuck you, Ellie,” you cathartically sob into the humid cavern of her, a hint of wanton—and other repressed things, taking form. That hand under her shirt wanders from her navel and tweaks the button of her jeans, pressing your body against all of her like it hurt to be inside your own, singular body. Overcame by a need you could not chew out.
Ellie cuts the kiss, quick to soothe the movement with her hand pressing down and collecting yours. “Hey, hey, too fast,” she laughs, distancing herself and giving you those eyes that could see you were overstrung, hectic to go somewhere you aren't prepared for.
She loves you, but that means appreciating you enough to wait until time is perfect.
Her head cocks, “Let's take shit slow, huh?” fingers weaving into the pliant gaps of yours and pulling your fist dear to her chin, kissing it.
You speak over the repeated sounds of her smooches, “Yeah, sorry,” cringing slightly at how fucking cheesy the scene became. But, when is Ellie not? Wonder clasps you now; intent to know what this makes out of the two of you, having held your feelings for forever. “Well, what does all this mean, then?”
“It means..” Ellie slants her body even more, stealing your wrist along with her. Planning something, no doubt. “You and me, breakfast tomorrow at ten, Tipsy Bison?” Her mouth stuck to the side of your hand like syrup, so firm in not letting you go.
It makes your ears simmer hearing her shamelessly set up a date, of all things she could have said. God. You errantly laugh, totally not giddy when her mouth starts sprinkling up your arm at an alarming pace. “Sounds more than good—hey! You slow down!”
Happy birthday, asshole.
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Herbal hair pack for dandruff control - Dandruff is a common hair problem faced by many people in India. A herbal pack for hair containing neem, tea tree oil, and aloe vera helps control dandruff and soothe an itchy scalp.
Herbal hair pack for dry hair - People with dry hair face issues like hair breakage and split ends. An herbal pack for hair containing ingredients like avocado, coconut oil, and honey helps moisturize and hydrate dry hair.
Herbal hair pack for oily hair - Excess oil production on the scalp can make the hair look greasy and dull. An herbal pack for hair containing ingredients like aloe vera, lemon, and tea tree oil helps control oil production and make the hair look healthy.
How to make a simple herbal hair pack at home:
Ingredients:
2 tablespoons of amla powder
2 tablespoons of shikakai powder
2 tablespoons of brahmi powder
2 tablespoons of bhringraj powder
1 tablespoon of fenugreek powder
1 tablespoon of hibiscus powder
1 cup of water
Method:
Mix all the powders in a bowl.
Add water gradually to make a thick paste.
Apply the paste to your hair and scalp, covering all the strands.
Leave the pack on for 30 minutes.
Rinse it off with water and shampoo.
Using an herbal hair pack once a week helps improve the health of your hair and scalp. It's also a relaxing and therapeutic experience that can reduce stress and anxiety.
An herbal pack for hair is a natural and effective way to promote healthy hair growth and prevent hair fall. They are free from harmful chemicals and
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Dating Stray Kids
❀ seriously criminal amounts of fluff. mostly gender neutral and basically unedited :/
❀ a/n this took years cause theres so many of them but i hope it doesn’t flop 💖💖 love you guys!!!
❀ w/c 2419
Chan: You were never even dating this man, you went from friends to married in like three days—one day you were single and then you were a mother to seven boys. So many days sitting in his studio listening to what he’s conjured up. Never leaves in the morning without giving you a kiss. Always looking out for you, walks on the busy side of the street and puts his hand up to shield your head when you get in the car. Listens so attentively whenever you’re speaking to him. Wraps you up in his clothes and the warmest blankets when you say you’re cold. When he can sleep, he lays directly on top of you. Is always asking how you are and genuinely wants to know all your daily ailments. Slightly teases you then hugs you so tight if he sees it annoyed you. Will kiss you anywhere and everywhere, then gets shy when he realizes you’re not alone. Is interested in all your interests. Hands are never kept to himself; he is all over you 100% of the time, always smiling when you’re around. Brings home little trinkets from tour that made him think of you. Writes you songs, unlike Jisung they are really sweet and poetic. Calls you all sorts of little names and giggles when you smile about it. Cuddles with you all night even if he can’t fall asleep. Leaves blankets and snacks in his studio for when you come visit. Texts you to watch channies room then gets shy when you actually do. Miraculously pulls out an extra sweater for you and pretends like he doesn’t always carry one around for you. Always has an arm around you or a hand in your pocket. Cradles you like a baby when you’re sad. He just loves you sm and takes care of you like your another one of his little ducks.
Minho: So lovely, but also your nemesis—kisses you then tells you your hair looks silly, or your outfit doesn’t match. Packs you lunches and reminds you to bring a coat. Is always telling you to text him when you get home, he doesn’t want to be controlling but he gets so worried. Says I love you first then acts all cocky when you say it back. I feel like he does things for you under the guise of you doing it wrong, when the truth is he just likes doing things for you. Never shows physical affection in front of other people but speaks to you in the sweetest tone, it’s almost more intimate. Washes your face for you and helps put you into pajamas when you’re too sleepy to do it. When you can’t sleep, he’ll lay next to you and tell you funny stories until you pass out. Kisses you all over your face when you’re sad. Fiddles with all your jewelry, he’s so gentle with it you don’t notice until you realize a ring is missing and see it on his pinkie. Thinks you’re so cute, sometimes he can’t help but talk to you like you’re one of his cats. Hugs you so so so tight and presses soft kisses in your hair. Tells you he misses you then threatens you to not tell anyone what he said. Takes you on special dates for no reason other than to make you smile. Calls you a certain pet name so often sometimes the boys forget its not your name. He not so secretively treasures you and makes sure you know when his teasing goes a little too far—you’re just so precious to him it’s hard for him to express in words.
Changbin: Super domestic and accepting. You could seriously tell him anything and he’d be like “okay, that’s great, honey!” Takes you to the gym with him and kisses you after every set. Loves sitting and doing nothing with you. Genuinely thinks you’re the most wonderful thing he has ever encountered. Constantly trying to impress you: flexing when he knows you’re looking, telling his best jokes when you’re around, bringing home expensive dinners. Pulls you into his arms to dance while you cook for him. Your biggest hype man and will never hear you say anything negative about yourself. Is always trying to pick you up, you could be dating for five years, and he'd still be giving out pick up lines. Whenever you hurt yourself, he’s going to kiss it better, no matter how dramatic it is—you have a splinter, here’s a kiss! You’re in the hospital, another kiss! Pretends to like things just because you do. Literally never says no to you. He talks about you so much; all the boys know everything about you before they even meet you. Every time he sees you, he’s going to lift you up and spin you around like you’re in some cheesy movie just so you’ll laugh. Always hugging you. #1 advocate for daily naps just so you can cuddle. Talks about your future like its already set in stone, like you’re getting married no matter what. Is so proud of you and the fact you’re together—Only has good things to say. Gifts you so many stuffed animals to cuddle with when he’s away. Calls you the most nauseatingly sweet pet names and holds you like your porcelain. You’re literally his little baby and he’s going to love and care for you if it’s the last thing he does.
Hyunjin: The most intimate and earnest boyfriend. Even if you’re the two most different people he convinces you you’re soulmates, you’re split aparts fr. Constantly playing with your hair. Tells everyone he doesn’t like skinship then wraps himself around you. Says something really sweet then acts all shy when three months later you’re watching a drama and the romantic lead says the same line. Uses your shower stuff and perfume so he can smell like you. Kisses every mole and stretch mark he can see. Whenever he sees something pretty he tells you it reminds him of you before roasting you within an inch of your life. Your house slowly becomes his house because suddenly everything he’s ever bought ends up there. CEO of romantic gestures—sends you flowers every chance he gets, writes love letters, and paints pictures. Wears a locket with your picture in it. Has a polaroid of you in his phone case. Sends you stupid tiktok’s and all he says is “it’s you.” So many bookstore and art museum dates. Late nights filled with dramas and skincare—after every step he gets a kiss! Thinks everything you say is funny. Loves you so much sometimes all he can do is cry because you’ll never know. Loves seeing you get along with the boys but as soon as one gets a little too close, he’s shooting them the biggest side eye. Always has snacks on hand for you—biggest fear is of hangry you. So tender and empathetic that when you get upset, he also starts getting emotional. Sometimes when you’re out together he gets really quiet and when you turn to see what’s wrong, he is just staring at you before he breaks out in a huge smile. Life with him is full of giggles. You’re his favorite person in the whole world and he’s yours!
Jisung: So deeply infatuated with you he couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. Every time he looks at you, he gets all moony eyed. Is always touching you in some way—hand on your thigh while you’re eating, arm around your waist while you walk together. Has lists of movies you need to watch together in his notes app. You’re a very cozy couple, almost always in pajamas and watching a Miyazaki movie. Definitely writes you songs, but not sweet ones they’re the worst improvised lines about how much he loves you. For all his goofy antics, as soon as you’re alone he’s becomes so quietly domestic—bringing home dinners and doing facemasks. Begs you to watch scary movies with him so he can have an excuse to baby you after. Talks about you nonstop, tells the boys jokes you told him just so he can say “isn’t my s/o so funny?’ Cuddle monster—needs them or he’ll start being mean to all the boys. If you’re someone who wears heels, he’d def be the kind of boyfriend to walk barefoot in his socks so you could wear his sneakers. Pulls at your cheeks and coos like you’re a baby. Takes so many photos of you from awful angles and won’t listen when you tell him you look terrible. So many forehead kisses. Has never called you your name since you got together, it’s always baby, and if you even dare to call him Jisung he’s going to have a breakdown trying to figure out what he did. Hands are permanently linked. Never leaves a conversation without an “I love you.” He thinks the world of you, so fond of everything you are and makes sure you never forget it<3
Felix: So so so so precious. The perfect boy, so sweet and tender you could never second guess his feelings. Loves so hard and so deep that everyone who looks at the two you knows just how he feels. He’s so open with all his feelings, you almost never fight. The kind of boy who brushes your hair and rubs lotion onto your legs. Compliments you every day, and not just saying you’re pretty, but the most earth-shattering no other compliment could ever measure up compliment. Is so interested in you, tries to learn everything he can. Since you met this boy, you have not tied your own shoes once, does it for you every time. Matching everything, wants everyone to know you’re together, as if anyone couldn’t pick it up from the way he’s draped all over you. Favorite thing on earth is when you sit with him doing nothing, he could be doing something he’s done a million times, but as soon as you’re around its better. Presses the softest kisses all around your face—nose, eyes, then lips, every morning to wake you up. Sings with you so loud in the car to all your favorite songs. #1 PDA advocate—does not care who’s around he will be affectionate. Always fiddling with your clothes. Makes you sweet treats and tells you they’re made with love. Could listen to you forever, sometimes he’ll bring up something he knows you love just so he can hear you toddling on. Buys you too many presents but will never accept you spending money on him. Never lets you walk home alone or open the door for yourself—if he can do it for you he’s doing it. Loves you so deeply you can feel it in every word.
Seungmin: Such a bully boyfriend. Never lets you live—if he can find a joke in it, he’s saying it, but at the same time never lets you second guess how he feels. While he won’t be lovey dovey all the time, but you can feel his affection in how he takes care of you—If you ask him to do something he’s going to complain, but that doesn’t mean he’s not doing it. Makes bad jokes so he can kiss the disappointment of your face. Orders your favorite for dinner and acts like its no big deal. Pretends not to but relishes in your affection. Will stop whatever he’s doing as soon as you say his name a little too seriously. Super shy with PDA but is constantly holding your hand. Is always talking about you, telling the other Kids stories about you until they have to tell him to shut up. Your biggest fan: puts up your graduation picture and top graded essay up on the fridge and is always bragging about you to others. Sings you to sleep when you’re tossing and turning. Teases you all the time but as soon as someone else does they better run for cover. Remembers every little detail about your life, even things that you’ve forgotten. Is secretly very sentimental and has all sorts of keepsakes about you and your relationship. Is not going to be all over you in public, but as soon as you’re alone he’s in your arms and telling you how much he cares about you. If you’re ever sad he’s going to be cracking all sorts of jokes just to you see you smile before he asks you what happened. He’s so silly but so so sweet, you never go a day without laughing.
Jeongin: The sweetest and cutest! Obviously super smiley, but with you his smile is somehow even bigger. Loves to match with you and help pick out your outfits. I do think if his s/o was someone who got their nails done that he’d love to pick out the design. Always packs snacks for you in his practice bag and an extra hoodie in case you get cold. While he may not be the most openly affectionate, he quite literally brings you everywhere, you’re like his third arm. Peppers sweet little kissies all over your knuckles when you’re not paying attention to him. Laughs at all your jokes even if they’re not funny. Thinks you’re the cutest!! Sends all sorts of funny pictures when he’s away so you don’t miss him too much. Constantly teases you just so he can see you roll your eyes at him. Pulls you into every photobooth he sees. Buys a bottle of your perfume to bring with him on tour. Fusses over you all the time—fixing your clothes and making sure you’re warm enough. Acts all tough in front of his hyungs but as soon as you’re alone he’s begging for cuddles. Makes playlists of all your favorite songs to play when you’re in the car. I think he’ d be too shy to call you pet names but he always says your name so soft and sweet its like he’s calling you one. Sings every love song like they’re for you. If your hair is long enough to put up in a pony tail he will tug on it, not too hard or anything, but just enough for it to be annoying. Both his wallpaper and lock screen are of you all cuddled up together. Very in love with you and even if he doesn’t express it in words everyone around you knows.
© luvtak
#stray kids#skz#skz x reader#skz fluff#stray kids x reader#stray kids x y/n#stray kids fluff#chan#changbin#lee know#hyunjin#han#felix#seungmin#jeongin#fluff#bang chan#chan x reader#changbin x reader#lee know x reader#hyunjin x reader#felix x reader#han x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#my fics ؘ ☆༄
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