#happy birthday to everyone on this list!!

[littlefireball]

ʜᴊ|ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ᴜꜱ (ᴍ/ᴀ)

Happy Birthday to Hongjoong~

ꜰᴀᴋᴇ ɢᴏᴅ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ (ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛᴇᴇᴢ ᴀꜱ ꜰᴀᴋᴇ ɢᴏᴅꜱ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ~ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴏᴛ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ)

ᴋɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ɢᴏᴅꜱ ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ x ᴀɴɢᴇʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ 

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ|ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ|ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴇx|ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ꜰᴇʟʟ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ ꜰᴇʟʟ ʜᴀʀᴅᴇʀ|ᴅᴀʀᴋ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ (ᴏᴏᴘꜱ)|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴋ*ʟʟɪɴɢ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.8ᴋ

other members

Summary: He initially aimed to wield Cupid's arrow to ensnare your heart, hoping you would devote yourself entirely to him. Little did he realize that he would end up being the one to give up everything.

Hongjoong reclined on his majestic throne, his fingers interlaced as he scrutinized the list of angels before him, his gaze sharp and predatory. Whispers of insurrection had begun to ripple through the celestial realm, murmurs of discontent brewing against his iron-fisted rule. Tsk, just a bunch of tiresome guys. Perhaps the abundance of idle time in heaven had led them to entertain such foolish notions of rebellion. Hongjoong, with his towering arrogance and self-obsession, saw no flaw in his reign. Clearly, a firmer hand was required to govern these lesser beings; any hint of compassion would only serve to deepen their moral decay.

Naturally, he couldn't simply brush aside the swirling rumors, yet he needed someone to handle the grim tasks for him─eliminate anyone who crossed his path. With their help, he could reclaim his lost reputation under the guise of delivering justice. How perfect the plan is! But, who would he find? 

A sudden knock echoed through the room. "Come in," he commanded, setting aside the documents that had occupied his lap. In walked Cupid, the God of love, his gaze fixed on the ground as he approached the throne. "Your Majesty," he murmured, kneeling on the plush carpet, his wings gracefully draping beside him.

"Is it true that your arrows possess the power to make people fall in love with me?"

"Indeed, Your Majesty," Cupid replied.

"Good," he said with a nod, turning to descend the stairs, his hands clasped behind him. "The throne of the queen has remained unoccupied for quite some time. Now is time to consider it," he murmured softly, though this was far from the truth. Deep down, he was unwilling to let anyone encroach upon his authority. Yet, he knew he must feign concern to keep everyone in the dark.

"Of course I know everyone loves me but I need someone willing to sacrifice themselves for me." He bent closer, a sinister grin curling at the corners of his mouth, making Cupid not dare to meet his gaze. "Am I right?" 

"Ye-yes…" 

Hongjoong straightened up, striding over to Cupid to grab his bow and arrow, fiddling with them playfully. "Okay. It's none of your business now. Get out." 

Cupid slowly backed away, his steps echoing in the vast chamber. As he reached the door, he paused, hesitating before turning to face Hongjoong once more. "Your Majesty, be warned. The consequences of such an act may not be as simple as you think." 

Hongjoong's expression did not change, and his voice was cold as ever when he replied, "Do you understand the meaning of 'none of your business?" He shifted his gaze from the weapons to him, said "I said Get Out. Don't make me twice." 

Cupid nodded and apologized, slipping out of the room and leaving Hongjoong alone with his thoughts and the arrow in his hands. Now here's the problem─who should he shoot? The room fell silent as he scanned over the list of angels before him. He knew that Cupid's power was not infinite, and he would need to find a suitable target to use the arrow on. The idea of someone falling in love with him was abhorrent to him, but he saw it as a means to an end. He would use this power to quell any further whispers of rebellion and strengthen this grip on the celestial realm. 

He needed someone who would be both powerful enough to be a threat and vulnerable enough to be manipulated. 

But is it enough? The answer is No. 

Obviously. 

"What's on your mind, Joong?" The gentle caress on his cheek brought him back from his thoughts as you leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his lips, your smile lighting up the moment. "You space out." 

"I'm just wondering how I'm so lucky to have you by my side" he replied, his hold on your shoulder firm as he drew you nearer, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. You laughed softly at his sentiment, nestling your face into the warmth of his neck.

"Don't lying~" 

"I could never. I'm the King of Gods, Y/N." 

You lifted your chin to catch his eyes, which wandered to your lips. With a silent understanding, you shut your eyes, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. The kisses grew more intense as he hovered above you, the warmth of your body igniting as your nipples pressed against his chest. There was nothing but only your kissing sound rang in your ears, bringing both of you to pleasure.

An addictive pleasure.

Yes, the King of Gods. How could he fall in love with you? Though he never openly confessed it, his body revealed the truth. Each time his gaze fell upon you, a deep-seated desire awakened within him.  He found it impossible to resist the urge to possess you, to make you his own. Physically. What began as a stare soon escalated into a touch, a peck, a hug, and finally sex.  It was the work of Cupid's arrow; he accidentally wounded himself when he shot you. And that's how this tale unfolds. Actually he could eliminate the effect of Cupid's arrow, as long as he healed the wound, but he never did it. Maybe he got used to it, to you being there beside him, fulfilling his every whim.

He chose you for a reason. It's simple; you are strong, loyal, and above all, you love with a passion that defies logic. He spent lots of time gathering information on the various angles and their strengths and weaknesses. You were the most perfect one, fulfilling all the requirements he needed. 

"Y/N?" he murmured, pulling away from the kisses, his voice a gentle whisper.

"Hmm?" you replied, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, feeling the warmth radiate from him.

"I need you to do something for me," he said, taking your hand and bringing it to his soft, pink lips, where he pressed a tender kiss against your palm.

"What is that?" 

"The angels." His voice was resolute as he tightened his grip on your hand. "Kill them all." 

You frowned for a moment, but it quickly transformed into a smile. "Yes, my lord." 

"You're not asking why?" 

"I'll do everything for you, no matter how hard, as long as you ask, " 

"Oh my dear. You're really my good girl." He leaned down to kiss you again, prompting a delighted giggle from you.

"So can I get some reward?" You tilted your head, pulling him closer. 

"Of course you can. My lovely girl." 

You both drew closer, lost in a fervent kiss that ignited the air around you. His hands eagerly sought yours, intertwining fingers with a firm grip as he buried his face into the curve of your neck. His lips brushed against your skin, tracing the delicate patterns of pink and purple hickeys that adorned you. Each caress sent waves of warmth through you, making you feel as if you were melting away, surrendering completely to the moment. Breathy moaning flew from your tongue as something solid rubbed against your sensitive clit, the excitement built up within your body. 

Your legs climbed up to his waist, encircling him to pull him nearer. Each subtle movement of his cock sent waves of sensation through you, teasing you until you found yourself pleading for more. He won't do anything even if he has an impatient temper. He needed you to beg, begging for his alms, his mercy. His proud spirit would never allow him to fulfill the desires of others without a sense of triumph. He would only grant his "gifts" when he could relish the power that came from your desperate pleas.

"Please…please…joong. I need you." You let out a small whimper as everything was too gentle for your liking, the emptiness almost driving you to lose control. An evil-like smirk came out from his body as one of his hands reached down to grip his cock, moving up and down to rub your clit with its tip. He made sure you could feel every hard press, every movement, every vibration when he let out a low growl.

"Oh baby, see how beautiful you are." He stared at your reddened clit covered with his pre-cum, flattening his thumb to press against your bud. You tumbled as the sudden pleasure rushed through your mind, feeling your bottom lip begin to shake as he kept brushing. "Tell me baby, do you want my cock, huh?" 

"Ye-yes. Please fill me up with your seeds, my lord. I need you." "Good slave." Your broken voice stopped as he shoved his cock into your cunt without warning, making you hold your breath. Shutting your eyes tightly, you let him to batter your sweet spot to chase his high and enjoyment. 

Not knowing why. Your heart twisted painfully at the sound of the word 'slave.' It wasn't the first time he had labeled you this way, yet the sting felt fresh. Was it merely a dirty word used on the bed, or did it reflect the reality of how he perceived you? Memories flooded your mind, taking you back to the beginning. When did your feelings for him begin to blossom? And when did he start to see you in a different light? What could possibly draw a King of Gods to a mere angel, one without power or the strength of the other goddesses?

It seems like everything suddenly changed overnight. 

"You space out." A commanding tone escaped his lips, prompting a startled gasp from you. His hand moved to clutch your cheeks, applying a firm pressure that stung. As you blinked open your eyes, you found his gaze locked onto yours, brimming with fury and envy. He squinted, scrutinizing you like a predator assessing its next target. 

"Are you thinking about other men?" 

"No. My lord. I could never do that."

He leaned down, his hot breath pooling against your skin,sending shivers down your spine. "You can only think about me, understand?You're mine, only mine." 

You were hesitant for a while but you soon brushed aside the doubtness within your mind, wearing a smile and repeating what he liked to hear. 

"Yes, my lord. I'm yours, forever yours." 

"You better remember this." Before he finished his words, he shoved back with all his might, plunging your spot over dead on. "Joong!!" Your back painfully arched at the way his hard tip battered your ruined cunt; his fat cock rubbed along the curve of your wall harshly to ensure you feel every vein of that. A powerful push after a powerful push. He suddenly stopped thrusting and got off the bed, clenching your ankles to tug you to the side until your ass hung in the air. His cock pushed back to your cunt once his fists clenched around your wrists for balance, plunging your depth again. 

You let out a broken moan as his ball slapped your ass and his thighs hit yours, producing a loud skin slapping sound. The jolt of the impact radiated from your thighs, enveloping your entire body in a wave of pain that left you breathless. Tears streamed down your face, spilling over and soaking the crumpled sheets that bore the marks of your tumultuous struggle. Watching you in this state, he felt an unexpected pang of sorrow, though he quickly dismissed it. It was just that damned injury, he reasoned, not any deeper feelings for you. Gradually, he eased his pace and intensity, allowing you a moment of respite. With a firm grip, he lifted you and settled back onto the bed, positioning you on top of him.

"Ride me." 

Almost without thinking twice, you started swaying your hips in a circle, rubbing each other's pelvis at a steady pace. His cock went so deep in this position, let alone the way he pressed you lower by gripping firmly on your waist. "Joong…it's too much…" "Oh dear, don't you want my seed?Huh?" "Ye…yes…" "Then fuck yourself harder and make me cum or I'll fuck you until you pass out." It wasn't a decision you could make; it was an order, and you had no option but to obey him. A quiet whimper escaped your trembling form as you started to move rhythmically, letting him penetrate as deeply as possible.

"Oh fuck, Y/N. That's so good." He leaned his head against the pillow, a deep moan escaping his lips, enjoying how your velvet wall was tightening around his cock. There was something intoxicating about witnessing his blissed-out expression; it felt like you had finally brought him joy. Yet, this moment felt altered. A nagging sensation crept in, making you feel like nothing more than an object, a plaything. Why?What happened to your mind? 

"Baby, cum for me. I need to feel you." 

But you couldn't as the pain had already replaced the pleasure. He sensed your uneasiness so he pulled you down without a word, making you laid on him completely. 

"What's wrong?" 

"No-nothing." 

"You worry about the mission?" 

"Huh?" You raised your eyebrow but soon nodded. But you knew that's a lie.

"Don't fret, darling." He brushed his lips against your forehead, a playful smile dancing across his face. "It's a piece of cake. I'll lend my power to you, and you'll take them down effortlessly. After that, no one will disturb us, and you'll be my wife, my queen."

He vowed once more, fully aware of your longing, your weakness. You craved more than just a physical connection; you yearned to be his true partner, his other half. Yet, he kept your bond a secret from the world, merely whispering that he would marry you someday. Each time, you found yourself softening, placing your trust in him. Perhaps love truly was blind.

"You promise?" 

"Of course, sweetheart. I would never deceive you. He wriggled you to the bed, his lips capturing yours in a passionate embrace. "Let's finish what we started," he murmured between kisses, effortlessly erasing any lingering uncertainty from your mind.

—-----

Y/N, what are you doing?!” your partner yelled, agony etched across his face as he pressed his hand against the gaping wound, desperately trying to halt the blood that seeped through his fingers. “Are you…trying to kill…us?!” His sword fell from his grasp, clattering to the ground as he gasped for air.

With your blade, stained with his blood, you pointed menacingly at him. “Just following orders.” In a swift motion, you lunged forward, your sword gleaming in the sunlight as you aimed to strike.

Just as you were about to slice through his throat, a massive beam struck you from the side. “Damn it!” There was no time to evade the blow. An earth-shattering explosion erupted the instant the beam made contact, engulfing you in a cloud of smoke that choked the air with its acrid stench.

“Did I do it…?” your partner whispered, the glow at his fingertip dimming as he crumpled to the ground, lifeless. The smoke gradually cleared, revealing the heartbreaking scene before you, yet you stood there, unmoved. The recent assault had been devastating, but Hongjoong's strength had mended your wounds and lifted the "curse" that had plagued you.

"What have I done...?" you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your thoughts. A rush of memories surged through your mind like a relentless wave, momentarily paralyzing you in its wake.

“Hands up!Put down the weapon!” You spun around in terror, your heart racing as you beheld a squad of angels, their weapons drawn and aimed directly at you in perfect synchrony. You recognized the armor they wear and their roles��the army of the King of Gods. 

“Get her!” Before you could react, darkness enveloped you as they pulled the triggers and stole your power. 

—----

Hongjoong stared out the window, savoring a sip of wine while he awaited your return. Once you completed the last elimination, he could leverage your involvement to restore his tarnished reputation in court. By shifting all the blame onto you, he believed everything would finally revert to the way it once was: The archangel's strength had diminished with the departure of his followers, leaving him unchallenged; soon, he would gain renown for his pursuit of justice.

And the wound left by Cupid's arrow….?Well, he would heal it. Maybe. His understanding of his own heart was murky, clouded by the belief that everything stemmed from that fateful shot. True love seemed an impossibility for him; to him, you were merely a means to an end, a plaything. As long as you served his needs and followed his lead, he would reciprocate. This was the narrative he spun for himself, blind to the way his heart ached at the mere thought of your leaving. 

"Finally, no one can bother me anymore." An evil-like laugh echoed in the chamber. 

—---

Upon discovering the massacre of countless angels at your hands, he feigned outrage, wrongfully charged you with insurrection, and swiftly took you into custody. As you knelt before the temple, your wings draping beside you, you lowered your head in submission to Hongjoong's decree.

"Do you know what you have done?" Hongjoong asked.

You lifted your chin, locking eyes with him. There was no warmth in his expression, just the thrill of imminent victory. As you averted your gaze, a weight settled in your chest under his stare. You knew you had to utter the words Hongjoong longed to hear. "I sacrificed the lives of soldiers to eliminate the demons," you declared coolly, betraying no hint of regret.

"They were not just soldiers, but your brethren, your fellow warriors!" The archangel on the judgment seat curses loudly, heartbroken for the companions you sacrificed. 

"I apologize for being direct. Angels chosen to defeat demons are destined to become martyrs. From the moment we were created, we have been ready for a noble death in combat..." You followed all the words Hongjoong taught you before. 

"Absurd!" The archangel's booming voice interrupts your explanation. "Y/N! As an angel, you are meant to hold life sacred and not justify such careless disregard for it with false reasoning! Merely being born as warriors does not give you the right to treat life so frivolously!" 

"Silence!" Hongjoong's cold voice cut through the archangel's roar. "Y/N, I once saw you as a loyal and formidable angel. Your unorthodox methods were accepted by me. But I never anticipated that you would overstep boundaries and disregard life for your own ambitions."

"No…I…" "Y/N, for betraying the divine, you shall be stripped of your angelic status and condemned to live on Earth until you reform yourself."

"No!!" Your cries fell on deaf ears as no one heeded your pleas. "Take her away to prison and set a date for her execution," the heartless judgment sealed your fate, and despite your frantic denials, it was all for naught.

—---

 Hongjoong returned to his chamber with a heart full of joy, having finally achieved his dream. Yet, as he swung the door open, he was met with an empty room, devoid of any warm welcomes or affectionate kisses. How could he have overlooked your absence? You were supposed to be there, weren't you? He shed his clothes and sank into the sofa, yearning to pull you close, to feel your presence beside him. But all he grasped was the emptiness of the air. No one was there. 

"Tsk…"He sighed softly, glancing at the cut on his finger with a hint of irritation. Flopping onto the sofa, he tried to shake off the nagging thought. Yet, a chill crept over him, and instinctively, he called out for you, "Y/N. Cuddle." He longed for your comforting presence, just like always. He soon realized he missed your existence again, feeling more annoyed. Why? He shouldn't behave that way. The truth is, he didn't have feelings for you. Or did he? If that's the case, why did he long for your presence and feel a deep ache in your absence?

He straightened his posture, his fingers weaving through his hair as he pondered for a moment. Perhaps it wasn't so painful to have you close by. After all, having a compliant angel by his side wasn't a bad thing at all. He could still rely on you to fulfill his desires. Yes, it was perfectly fine that he wished for you to remain. 

As he made his way to your cell, a sense of conviction washed over him. He dismissed everyone else, feeling a thrill of anticipation at the thought of being embraced by you once more, just like before.

The door creaked open but you didn't come out.

"Y/N?" He felt a twinge of disappointment when you didn't envelop him in kisses. Little did he know just how deeply he had missed you. 

You reclined in the cell, your eyes fixed on the moon's glow. Upon seeing him, you sank to your knees, the sharp clatter of metal resonating through the space.

"Your Majesty." Your tone was icy, sending a shiver through the air. Hongjoong's brow furrowed, struggling to adapt to the chill in your demeanor. 

"We're alone here, my dear." 

"No. Your Majesty. I beg you, don't address me that way." 

Hongjoong's heart sank as he realized the change. He stepped closer, trying to read the emotions in your eyes. "Y/N, what's wrong?Why are you so distant from me?" 

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mix of sadness and resignation. "Your Majesty, I cannot bear the weight of your expectations any longer. I'm not the obedient angel you seek." 

"What're you talking about?" 

"I've wanted to be more than just a pawn in your game. But I was wrong. No matter what I did, you just saw me as a tool." 

"Who told you that?" He let out a nervous chuckle, looking guilty.

"Cupid's arrow." 

"What?You…?" Hongjoong's heart contracted as he took in your words. He didn't expect you to know the truth. 

"How did I know that? Do you want to ask?" Your eyes filled with pain and a hint of defiance, tears streaming down your face. "Thanks to your power. It heals the wound left by the arrow." 

"No, I…Y/N…don't be like this." Hongjoong stumbled over his words, his voice a mere breath against the silence. His heart twisted painfully, overshadowing any joy he felt upon achieving his aim. Could a mere scratch evoke such torment? Certainly not. He had been captivated by you for ages, yet he had been too oblivious to see it. 

"You don't have to pretend to love me anymore. It's over." 

"That's not acting." Hongjoong took a step forward, his hand reaching out to you but you flinching away. 

"Yeah, you're right. You're not acting as it's what you want to do." You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head and your tears falling faster. ""You manipulated me to eliminate anyone who stood in your way. You made endless promises to earn my trust, yet not a single one has been fulfilled because you never intended to let them into your heart."

"No, Y/N." He pulled your hands into his, gripping tightly as if he feared you might slip away. "I can make you my queen, my wife. I haven't forgotten any of the promises we made. Just please, don't act like this, alright?"

"Why can't you understand?Hongjoong?" You took your hands back, letting out a heavy sigh. "I can't be with you the way you want me to be. I can't be your obedient angel anymore." 

Hongjoong's heart sank as he realized that you were leaving him. He had never felt this way before─the fear of losing you was consuming him. 

"Y/N, please stay with me. I need you." 

"You just need a slave, not me." 

Hongjoong watched you sit down on the chair with your eyes closed. His heart was heavy with loss. He had never realized how much he needed you until now. "I understand." He stepped backward, tears filling his eyes. His sad voice made your heart sink, you shouldn't though. 

"I know what I need to do now." He let out a bitter smirk before walking away from you, leaving you alone in the cell. 

—----

From that moment on, Hongjoong slipped away from your world. Even after mending the ache left by Cupid's arrow, he struggled to let go. His days blurred into a monotonous routine within the confines of his room, where he gazed at the familiar walls, lost in memories of the moments you shared. He sought someone to fill the void you left behind, but no one could ever occupy the special place you held in his heart. He longed for your presence, for your touch, for your warmth. But all he had was the memory of your final words and the emptiness of his chamber. 

It pushed him to the brink of madness, leaving him in a constant state of irritation. He felt utterly misunderstood, with no one to offer him solace. Despite the pleas for compassion from those around him, he stood unmoved. The once-familiar feelings of superiority and joy he had derived from this situation had long since faded away.

There was only one way to deal with this problem─Make everything go back to the past. 

The moment of reckoning has finally come, and you find yourself bound to a pillar at the heart of the execution ground, staring at Hongjoong, who presides over the judgment from his elevated seat, flanked by angels and deities who harbor a deep loathing for you. 

A chilling breeze caresses your cheeks, making the hem of your white skirt flutter softly; your disheveled hair obscures part of your face, yet it cannot shield you from Hongjoong's piercing gaze. Perhaps the pain has dulled your senses, and while fear should grip your heart, you feel nothing but a profound stillness. All you desire is to escape this torment and leave the haunting memories behind.

The judge's voice echoed in the courtroom as he started to deliver the verdict. You shut your eyes tightly, indifferent to the portrayal of you as a monster, a devil steeped in vile deeds, with some even daring to claim you were in league with the devil himself. Meanwhile, Hongjoong, perched on the elevated platform, gripped his fists in silence, each word striking at his composure. Though his expression remained impassive, the tension in his hands betrayed him, veins standing out starkly against his skin.

"Y/N has committed a heinous crime and should be executed upon questioning!"

Hongjoong rose from his seat, striding purposefully toward the execution platform. The gods gazed at him, their expressions a mix of reverence and disbelief. Wasn't this he yearned for so long? Yet, it felt wrong. Instead of triumph, his heart ached as if it were being ripped apart, and no amount of admiration could fill the void of sorrow within him. Especially when he met your calm gaze; it was as if his heart was ensnared by thorny vines, leaving him breathless. Perhaps he didn't truly understand love; all he knew was that the agony of loss eclipsed any pain he had endured before.

Thus, he yearned for your return, for you to stay by his side forever.

With a fierce determination, he raised the long sword, its blade crackling with the energy of lightning, pointing it skyward. Dark clouds gathered ominously overhead, and a thunderous roar echoed through the air. Lightning danced across the heavens, illuminating the swirling storm, causing gasps of terror to erupt from the onlookers. 

His eyes blazed with a brilliant light as he felt every ounce of his power converge at the sword's tip. With a swift motion, he brought the sword down, unleashing a torrent of lightning that struck the unsuspecting gods around him. The explosive force sent shockwaves through the air, and you could only watch in horror as the once-sacred temple transformed into a nightmarish battleground.

Paralyzed by fear, words escaped you. Before you stood a figure descending slowly, a bloodied bow and arrow in his grasp—Cupid's arrow.

"Y/N," he murmured your name softly, but it sent a shiver down your spine. He advanced toward you, each step drawing closer, and you could only stand frozen as his shadow enveloped you, tightening its grip.

"I said I never forgot my promise." 

"What're…you doing…?" 

"I can make you my queen now." He pressed the arrow firmly against your chest. As you gazed into his eyes, reason slipped away, leaving only confusion. Yes, you felt utterly foolish. How could he possibly let you escape? He was determined to seize everything and everyone he valued, regardless of the cost.

"Hongjoong…" 

He ignored your words. 

"You belong to me, now and always. You know you love me, and there's no escaping this." His voice was a soft whisper against your ear, punctuated by a tender kiss.

"And no one will bother us anymore." He struck at your heart like an arrow, causing a sharp gasp to escape your lips. His arms enveloped you, his touch a soothing balm against the ache.

"Will you stay with me forever, Y/N?" 

With a slow, deliberate motion, your hands found their way to his waist as Hongjoong broke your handcuffs, pulling you closer. 

"Yes, my lord." 

A warm smile spread across his face as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers trailing down to caress your cheek before resting gently under your chin. 

"That's my good girl." 

You were his, again.  

[1percychase]

Unpopular opinion: Nico's trauma is over rated

Okay so I'm not saying that it's not validated or anything, there's a reason it's over rated, but so many fans act like he's the only one and that no one else's trauma matters because Nico has it the worst. When did we start comparing literal trauma?? I think somebody we should look into more is honestly.. Percy. He's the main character and all, but it's almost like all the fans forgot how much he's gone through, which is CRAZY to me. Anyways I have a list cause I love making list and yeah.

1. Getting abused by his step dad, which made him feel worthless and like he didn't matter.

2. Everyone bullying him.

3. The only person who ever seemed to care about him, his mom, disappeared.

4. Getting punished bc of his father.

5. Getting accused of stealing something and getting sent on a quest at TWELVE.

6. His first friend at camp betrayed him, which gave him trust issues.

7. His best friend getting kidnapped.

8. Getting turned into a guinea pig, which actually gave him a phobia over.

9. Having suicidal thoughts while only being THIRTEEN.

10. Never thinking he is enough.

11. His other best friend being kidnapped.

12. Watching Bianica sacrifice herself after he tried to stop her.

13. Holding up the literal sky while also being injured.

14. Being blamed for Bianica's death (and believing it.)

15. Finding out Nico is a child of Hades and deciding to protect him against the Prophecy even if he hated him.

16. Annabeth mad at him bc Rachel likes him, even though he can't control that.

17. Getting lost and separated in the Labyrinth.

18. Watching Pan fade out of existence.

19. Watching Bekendorf explode on a boat.

20. Being the Demigod of the Prophecy.

21. Fighting a war on his birthday, the battle of Manhattan.

22. Watching so many people die in front of his eyes, knowing he couldn't save them.

23. Silena betraying him and the camp (I don't think she was a bad guy at the end but yea.)

24. Feeling guilty that Luke committed suicide and blaming himself when it isn't his fault (idk how true this one is but I've seen it so..)

25. Being kidnapped and all his memory taken away.

26. (This one is kinda a joke) Watching Octavian kill his pillow pet.. rip perry the panda pillow pet.

27. Being in another Prophecy of the seven.

28. Being afraid of drowning, while also being a child of Poseidian.

29. Falling into Tarturus with Annabeth.

30. Going completely psycho and mad.

31. Leaving Bob it Tarturus and feeling super guilty about it.

32. Making Gaia rise with a nosebleed.

33. Fighting in the battle of camp half blood.

34. Thinking Leo died.

35. Finally thinking he has a break and getting asked to help Apollo.

36. Becoming an older brother. (it's not like physical trauma but I'll explain it later)*

37. Jason's death.

38. Going on more quest to get college recommendation letters.

*okay so becoming an older brother was on this list because even if he was so happy to get a half sibling, he's been an only child for a long time and it's hard to accept new people in your life. Also older brother duties. Even if he was just leaving the house when she was a couple months old, I still put it on there bc many people can count it as one. Also I'm the oldest out of 6 kids growing up so I would count it lol*

And people still have the audacity to say percy was too much of a jerk in heroes of olympus, please. I would act the same way.

Anyways I actually have a list of a lot of different characters traumas cause I got bored one night so if you want to see the other list, tell me!!

[js-a-writer]

Since I'm late (for yet another person) HAPPY BIRTHDAY DREW STARKEY!!! Also, I'm back, I've got an Anthony Bridgerton Fic I'm working on. I need to update my "Who I Write For" list. Any requests for Drew/Rafer become top priority for this week (bc it's his birthday week) then I promise everyone that I will get to the other fics. I've been very busy and lacking motivation for the past, year maybe? And I apologize, but I am finally back on my game and plan on making more fics!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DREW!!!! 🎂🥳

[a11eya]

TITLE: do you still think about me?

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

SUMMARY: Okay, so you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on Bakugou when you were both in high school. He was kind of your first love, if you believe in those kinds of things. But you got over it. It's fine.

You see Bakugou sometimes at hangouts, at get-togethers. He's in your orbit, or you're in his, because of your mutual friends. You're all adults now, so it's fine. It's a little weird, but fine.

You're supposed to be on vacation, at a place that's hours away from Musutafu. You're not sure what you've done to deserve it, but Bakugou's here too. And instead of both of you pretending the other doesn't exist, as usual, he's talking to you. He's everywhere. It's fine.

(It's not fine.)

TAGS: pro hero Bakugou Katsuki, aged-up characters, friends to lovers, soft Bakugou Katsuki, fluff, mutual pining, smut, oral sex, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, reader with afab body parts, reader with hair that can be pushed away from face when damp

STATUS: Completed; 3 of 3

NAVIGATION: Series Masterlist

NOTE: Minors, DNI! This chapter contains smut.

“Watch it,” Bakugou snaps. 

His hand shoots out to grab your upper arm as you stumble over a hidden tree root, too engrossed in the pictures you’re taking with your phone to notice what’s underfoot.

“Pay attention,” he growls as he steadies you. His hand is warm where it’s wrapped around you. 

Heart thumping in your chest, you slip your phone into your pocket, feeling duly admonished. 

“Sorry,” you say, looking up at him. “And thank you. Your reflexes are amazing.” 

Bakugou scowls at you. “Be more careful or I’m taking you back down.” 

“You and what army?” You stick your tongue out at him.

Some expression you can’t quite read flickers across his face, and he narrows his eyes at you.

Your momentary courage deserts you. You squeak and pull yourself free from his grasp, making your way hurriedly up the marked path while trying to balance caution and speed so you don’t trip and fall on your face.

Behind you, you hear a sharp bark of laughter. You can’t help but look back. 

Bakugou’s gaze immediately catches yours. There are traces of laughter still in his face—in his eyes, on his lips. 

It’s not the first time you’ve heard him laugh, of course. Kaminari’s hilarious, and when he, Kirishima, and Hanta get going at parties, everyone’s laughing. (Even if Bakugou sometimes laughs at them more than with them.) And that’s not even taking into account how much of a menace Bakugou is when Todoroki’s around to tease.

But it’s the first time you’ve made him laugh. You want to keep making him laugh, you realize. You really like him, and it’s such a problem. All that time spent trying to keep your distance, get over him? Undone within a few days.

As Bakugou’s long strides quickly eat up the distance between you, you try to compose yourself, hoping none of your thoughts are visible in your expression. It’s fine.

He puts a hand on your back, nudging you forward. 

“C’mon,” he tells you. “If you wanna make it back in time for dinner, save the pictures and the attitude for the top.” 

Much of the trail takes you through a forest filled with cedar and birch trees with a steady incline upwards. Wooden stairs and handholds appear a couple times, as this hiking trail is well-traveled. You pass some people in pairs or families on your way up, but not often. 

When you hike—and yes, you usually do take a friend or two, Bakugou—you prefer not to talk much. A lot of the time it’s because your lungs can’t multitask; the physical exertion of breathing is more than enough. But it’s also because you hate to cut through the sound of nature with your voice. You love the birdsong, the wind rustling the trees, the faint hum of insects. 

Bakugou is quiet too, for the most part. When he does speak, his voice is low, quiet, with check-ins and directives. 

“You out of water? Here.” You find out he has water, a first aid kit, snacks, and who knows what else in the backpack he’s brought along.

“Gimme your hands. Rocks’re slippery here.” He’s all easy strength, a warm grip. Your hands in his. 

“Let’s stop here for a minute.” He’s not tired at all, but you are as things get steeper, and you don’t even need to say anything for him to pause for a break. 

Bakugou’s a good hiking partner. He’s better than Rie, who refuses to do anything with an incline and complains the whole way anyway, or Hanta, who chats your ear off the entire time and outpaces you with his long legs and hero stamina. 

Maybe when the two of you get back to Musutafu, Bakugou’d be willing to go on another hike with you. A friendly hike. You’ve never done anything one-on-one with him before this weekend, and since you’re slowly coming to accept that maybe you’ll have feelings for him forever, it’ll be fine. 

You reach the peak around noon. 

“Bakugou,” you say, staring out into the distance. You glance away briefly to put your hand on his forearm, shaking it slightly in excitement. 

Bakugou huffs, stepping closer to you. 

“Look,” you tell him, and his eyes meet yours. You know it’s because of a few clumsy moments you had getting up here that he’s keeping within arms length of you at all times, but—he’s so close. And he acts like he has no idea what he looks like, sunlight limning his blond hair and turning his eyes clear crimson. 

You look away, back out. You don’t want to make things weird when—when you’re friends, now, right? The time you’ve spent together this weekend, just the two of you… you’ve got to be friends at this point. 

You push your thoughts aside and try to recenter yourself, focus on what’s in front of you.

Trees grow everywhere you look in deep shades of green and umber. The nearby lake shimmers, placid. In the distance are mountains, making their mark against the horizon. 

“It’s so beautiful out here,” you say. You turn your head to look at Bakugou again, smiling, only to find that he’s still looking at you. Your hand’s still on his arm. 

A little flustered, you let go of him. In a voice softer than you intend, you tell him, “I’m having a great time. Thanks for coming with me.” 

He looks at you for a long moment.

“Good,” he says. 

Soaking in the open-air bath does wonders for your body. 

It’s a little too early for muscle aches and soreness, but you can already feel how fatigued certain parts of your body are—your feet, your calves. The hot water is like a balm as you submerge yourself to your chin. 

The public onsen is nice, but crowded. You visited yesterday, after the morning market, and enjoyed it. But it’s a different experience, here in your room’s private outdoor bath. It’s like you’re the only one in the whole world. You needed this time and space to yourself after returning from the hike with Bakugou. When you’re with him, it feels like all your senses are dialed to 110% and the only thing you can think of is him. In the hours since the hike, you took a nap and then checked in with your friends. 

Sero finally got back to you late last night, letting you know that he’d met Rie halfway and traveled back with her to Musutafu. Rie messaged you a picture she’d taken of herself, looking haggard and depleted, with her client barely visible in the background looking stunningly gorgeous. Rie’s always been super talented at turning people into works of art.

They both asked how you’re doing. In your group chat with them, you sent along pictures of the gifts you’d gotten them and the photos you took on your hike. The views you captured look unreal, like CGI, they’re so pretty. 

You even got Bakugou to take a few pictures—a couple of you, with a big grin, throwing up a peace sign, and even a selfie of the both of you. He’s not smiling, exactly, in it, but his neutral expression is handsome anyway. You weren’t sure he wanted it, but you sent the picture to him, just in case. 

You did make the mistake of sending one of your solo pictures in your group chat with Rie and Sero because Rie immediately sent you several follow-up direct messages while Sero just sent a thumbs up.

Rie: Who took this????

Rie: Who were you with??

If you told the truth, you’d never hear the end of it. Instead of replying to her, guiltily, you left her messages unopened, to deal with later. 

You drift, eyes closed. The daytime sounds of birds and cicadas have been replaced by the chirping of crickets as the sun sets, casting a dreamy orange glow over everything. 

You’ve nearly dozed off when the sound of knocks on your door has you stirring. 

Briefly, you entertain the urge to ignore it. It’s probably someone who’s got the wrong room, as you aren’t expecting anyone. You do plan on ordering the in-room dining menu but haven’t gotten around to requesting it yet. 

But the knocks come again, and then your phone pings. 

Sighing, you stand, water sloshing and streaming off your body. You grab a towel and briskly rub yourself down so you aren’t dripping water everywhere, and then you shrug on the onsen-provided robe. 

As you pad over to the front door, you grab your phone and glance at the screen. 

The message preview says—

Bakugou: You in your room? 

Blinking, you jerk your head up to stare at the door. It’s quiet now. 

Hurrying over, you open it. No one’s there. 

You stick your head out and look both ways. To your left, you see Bakugou’s retreating back.

“Bakugou,” you call. “Come back!”

He stops, turns. His eyes land on you, and he scowls. 

You resist the urge to jerk back. What’s his deal? You were in the bath; you answered the door as fast as you could.

You make a face at him. 

With long strides, Bakugou’s back at your door. He steps close, almost crowding you. 

“Get back in there, you aren’t even dressed,” he says. His eyes drop down to your shoulder, then quickly dart back to your face. 

Your robe had loosened, one side sliding down your shoulder a little when you’d leaned out to look for him. You feel your face begin to warm as suddenly, you’re hyper aware you’re not wearing anything under this robe and he’s just a step or two away. 

You fix your robe.

“There isn’t even anyone around,” you say, stubborn, just to get your mind off of the path it’s taking. He’s clearly freshly showered, hair damp, and you’re reminded of your first night here in the bamboo garden, him, under the moonlight. 

Stop. 

As if to prove you wrong, you begin to hear the faintest sound of voices echoing from down the hall. Bakugou looks at you as if to say I told you so. 

You step back. “Come in.”

Closing the door behind him, you cross your arms over your chest, trying not to feel self-conscious. 

“What brought you over here, anyway?” you ask. 

“Was gonna ask if you wanna eat with me for dinner,” Bakugou says. He avoids looking at you, glances around your room, and you’re glad that you’re generally a pretty tidy person. Glad that he’s not looking at you, but also a little disappointed, though you know it’s dumb. He’s not interested. 

“I’d love to, but I feel like a limp noodle,” you say. “I doubt I’ll make it to the restaurant. And I might fall asleep over dinner. I was gonna order their in-room dining menu instead.” 

You’re telling the truth. You feel like you’ve spent your time well on this vacation, but you’re tired.

But you don’t want to say no; you don’t want to turn him away. You’ve already spent so much time with him, but it’s like you can’t get enough. 

“Do you wanna join me?” you ask. 

Bakugou puts his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. But let’s eat in my room.”

You furrow your brows. “Why? We’re already here in mine.” 

He shrugs a shoulder. “Go get dressed.”

You stare at him, bewildered. What logical explanation could there be for him to want to dine in his room instead? Maybe his room’s nicer than yours? But he’s never struck you as the kind of guy to care about stuff like that. Maybe he forgot something in there? But that’s silly, he presumably just came from there. The in-room dining menu costs the same across the rooms, so it can’t be that…

Pausing, you narrow your eyes at him. “Wait. Is it because you want to charge the meal to your room?”

His silence is telling. He looks at you, unwavering, as if maintaining eye contact will make you back down. But you’re unintimidated. 

“I know your tricks now, Bakugou,” you tell him, smug. “You can’t fool me. We’re eating here, and I’m paying for it as thanks for the hike today. Go sit on the couch, feel free to turn on the TV. I’ll be right back.”

You turn before he can say anything, grabbing some clothes from the dresser and walking into the bathroom to change. Faintly, you hear the sound of the TV being turned on. 

Your small victory has you re-energized. You change, buoyed with it. You do wonder about this newly discovered quirk of Bakugou’s—paying for things unnecessarily. You do recall he’s never been stingy, covering rounds of drinks at get-togethers, spotting your mutual friends’ meals on birthdays. 

It doesn’t come across as—I have more money than you do, so I’m flaunting it, even though you’re aware that he does make more than most of your friend group because of his higher hero ranking and the fact he owns his own agency. It feels more so like his way of showing his friends he cares; it’s warming that it’s something he’s trying to do with you. 

It’s juvenile, this need to be reassured, but you wish you could ask him if he thinks of you as a friend. 

When you leave the bathroom, you find Bakugou sitting on the couch, flipping through the provided menu. He looks up as you approach and sit a cushion away from him. 

“You like fruit?” Bakugou asks. 

“…Yes?” you say, blinking. “That’s so random.” 

He tilts his head toward the other end of the couch where the gifts you’d bought at the market sit. Sero’s bag of fruits is open, peeking through. 

“Oh! Those are for Hanta. You know he likes citrus fruit, right? You got him those oranges a couple weeks back.” 

Bakugou raises a brow. “He tell you about that?” 

“Yeah! He was talking about them non-stop for a couple days. Couldn’t get him to shut up. It was really sweet of you—I think those oranges are his favorite variety.” 

Bakugou’s expression is hard to make out, but you think maybe he’s pleased. He’s a really great friend, you think. 

“Let’s order,” he says. 

You order to your heart’s content, feeling justified since you’d only eaten an onigiri and some snacks Bakugou’s brought for lunch, at the peak. While you wait, a hero special on All Might begins playing on the TV, and the both of you are unable to resist being drawn into it. He was the hero of your childhoods, after all, the biggest star.

“What’s he like, anyway?” you ask Bakugou. When he looks at you askew, you make a face at him. 

“I only ever saw him at events or peripherally, teaching the hero course,” you say defensively. “You probably don’t remember, but I was in the management course.”

“I remember,” he says. You resist the urge to grimace. You wish he didn’t; you’ve been getting along so well that you lulled yourself into forgetting about your cringy past. 

“...He’s annoying,” Bakugou says after a moment, interlocking his fingers and staring down at them. “Old man doesn’t know when to quit. Still at that damn school.” 

“Still teaching?” you ask. “That’s nice.” 

“Should retire,” Bakugou mutters. “He’s done enough.” 

“He’s done more than enough, I think,” you say. “But you heroes always give so much of yourselves, going where you’re needed. It’s one of the best things about you.” 

Bakugou looks up at you, tilts his head. 

After a moment, you realize. 

“About you, as in heroes in general!” you say hastily. You’re a liar. You were thinking about him, not All Might, not all heroes. 

A couple knocks at the door save you, and when you move to get up, Bakugou motions for you to stay. 

“I’ll get it,” he says. You sit there, beating yourself up over your slip-up, as Bakugou speaks to the people at the door. You greet them when they come in, watching out of the way as they quickly set the table and arrange the dishes you’d ordered. 

You hardly notice as they leave as quickly as they came, so dazzled by the food on display. 

Bakugou touches your back, and you startle. You look at him. 

“Come sit,” he tells you.

“Okay,” you say. 

The food is delicious, but the company’s even better.

You find yourself talking about all kinds of things with him. 

“Do you go hiking often?” you ask. “You looked pretty comfortable out there.” 

“I like outdoorsy shit,” Bakugou says. “Hiking’s fine. I like mountain climbing best.”

“Mountain climbing?” You tilt your head. “That’s pretty intense. It suits you! I have a friend who’s into bouldering and is trying to get me into it. I feel like that might be more my speed.”

“You scared of heights?” 

“I’m scared of falling!” You laugh. “But with your quirk, I guess you don’t have that worry.” 

“If you want to try bouldering, tell me,” he says. He brings his cup of tea to his lips, takes a sip. 

You blink at him. “Do you know how?”

“Started with it a couple years back and moved on to climbing. Being outside’s better,” Bakugou says. 

“Okay! I’ll take you up on it,” you say, trying to hide the little thrill that runs through you at the thought that he wants to spend time with you, even when the both of you return home. 

You reach for the teapot to refill his cup, and your hand brushes against his, resting on the table. He doesn’t pull away. His eyes lift to meet yours, deep carmine in the low light. 

Before you know it, it’s true night. It’s not so late according to the time, but it feels like it is because the both of you were up early and had a physically taxing day. 

Mid-sentence, you cover your mouth as you yawn, little pinpricks of tears springing to your eyes. 

“Sorry,” you say, just as you catch Bakugou hiding a reciprocal yawn. It’s cute. You don’t think he’d appreciate you saying so, so you hide your smile. 

“You wanna sleep here?” you ask. “I’m sleeping in the bed nearest the windows. The one next to the wall was Rie’s, but they changed the sheets and everything yesterday. It hasn’t been touched since.” 

Bakugou looks at you for a moment. “You good with that?”

“If you are,” you tell him. “And if you’re okay with using the complimentary toothbrush they give out.” 

He snorts. “Thanks.” 

Getting ready for bed at the same time as him feeds into thoughts you refuse to acknowledge. He tells you to get ready first as he takes care of cleaning up the food and dishes to be taken away by the staff. You try to help, but he gives you this stubborn look you’re too tired to fight. You thank him instead and retreat into the bathroom. 

It’s only when you’re both in bed, the lights out, that those thoughts return, make themselves manifest.

The awkwardness you used to feel around him, the self-consciousness about your history, the pressure to keep him at a distance—it’s all faded so much into the background. Instead, your body hums with nerves, with a different kind of awareness. 

He looked at you a lot, today. Whenever you looked at him, he was already looking back. He made himself known with little touches here and there: on your back, your arms, your hands. You thought you’d imagined it yesterday, this morning, but—no. 

You’ve had partners before, both short and long term. That dance in the beginning, that will we, won’t we—you think you’re not imagining it here, with him. 

“Goodnight Bakugou,” you say quietly, in case he’s already asleep. You don’t trust yourself to look at him to check. Seeing him across sheets, soft and undone… you don’t trust yourself to look at him and keep these bubbling feelings inside.

“Night,” Bakugou says. 

When you wake, the sun isn’t even up. 

The room is dark, though it’s in hazy shadows that speak of a coming dawn. 

Blinking sleep away, you rub at your face and turn onto your side to reach for your phone. 

You freeze mid-motion. 

You’d forgotten Bakugou, sleeping in the other bed, still deep asleep. His face is restful, uncreased by a frown, though you can’t make out much more in the gloom. 

You look at him for a long moment. 

Quietly, you grab your phone off the bedside table and get out of bed, heading into the bathroom. You wash your face and brush your teeth before undressing and donning an onsen robe. You pad over to the sliding glass door leading out to the deck and open-air bath and step out. 

A simple shower sits in the corner of the deck, intended for rinsing off before bathing. You stand under the spray, scrubbing yourself down.

You want to use the open-air bath one more time before checking out. You want some time to yourself before you have to face the morning. Soaking in the steamy water, watching the sunrise—it’ll be a nice ending to this vacation. 

Suitably clean, you slip out of the robe, hanging it on a hook on the wall, before sliding into the bath.

It’s so hot it makes you hiss as you sink down, the steam visibly wafting in the air. The seats within the bath are at a perfect height for you to sit sideways in one of the corners, arms folded across the ledge. You rest your head on them.

The sky’s begun to change to a blue, with pink and orange streaking the horizon. You stare out into the distance, blinking slowly. 

You don’t regret spending so much time with Bakugou this weekend. You had a lot of fun, and when the alternative would’ve been a rather lonely couple of days, you’re grateful. You’re happy that you’ve grown closer, when it seemed an impossibility a couple days ago.

Knowing him as you do now—you like him so much. You like what you’ve learned about him, up close.

You feel guilty keeping your feelings from him; you want to tell him, but you’re not sure. You're teetering on the edge—are you reading too deeply into his words, his actions? Does he return your feelings? Or is his interest fleeting, just because of circumstance, likely to fade once you leave this ryokan behind? You don’t know. 

The sound of the sliding door opening jostles you from your thoughts. 

You turn just your head, keeping your front pressed against the side of the bath. 

Bakugou stands there, looking rumpled but forcibly alert. Like a tiger, just woken up from sleep, not sure what’d woken it up. Little water marks stain the front of his shirt, and the edges of his hair are damp, as if he’d washed his face. 

You stifle the urge to smile. 

“Good morning,” you say softly.

He grunts out what could be a greeting back.

“Did I wake you up?” you ask. “I’m sorry if I did.” 

“Y’didn’t,” he says. “I usually get up early.” 

Bakugou looks out over the pond, out at the trees on the far side, before looking at you.

“S’early for a bath,” he says. 

“Wanted to use it one last time while watching the sun rise.” You push your hair away from your face, where it’d begun to cling because of the steam. His gaze tracks your movement, the sluicing of water down your forearm. The bare line of your back. 

His eyes snap back up to yours, but it’s too late. You caught it. 

You watch him for a long moment. Take a deep breath. 

“Wanna join me?” 

He studies you. The longer the silence stretches, the more your nerves fray. 

You swallow, open your mouth to take it back. Maybe you’d imagined the look in his eyes. 

“You sure?” he asks. His voice is raspy with the remnants of sleep, deep with something else. His words are heavy with things unspoken, and you shiver despite the warmth of the water. 

“Yeah,” you say. 

He turns to the shower you’d just used, and you look away as he grips the back of his shirt, pulls it over his head, revealing a tantalizing expanse of skin. The broad breadth of his shoulders, the hard lines of muscle leading to his waist. Old scars, telling of the fights he’s survived, the fights he’s won. 

You whip your head forward, looking away, feeling impossibly warmer than you already are in this bath, steam rising around you. 

There’s the sound of clothes hitting the deck and the water turning on. 

You keep your eyes on the horizon, the peek of the sun over that line, even as you hear the shower shut off and his footsteps approach, even as the water level rises as he climbs in. 

Heart thumping fast against your chest, body tense with anticipation, it takes all your will not to startle when his hand touches your bare back. You shift to face him, and he’s close, so close. Like yesterday, and the day before, but today maybe he’s finally within your reach. 

“This what you wanted?” His hand slides down your skin, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. You reach a hand up to his face.

He stops you, grip encircling your wrist—a familiar motion. 

“Y’gotta say it,” Bakugou tells you. His eyes are molten red with the sunrise, heated. Your breath catches. 

“Yes, yes, wanted this,” you say, trying to move closer, and he huffs out a laugh, the glimmer of a satisfied smile on his lips. 

You look up at him, soft, putty in his hands. He’s so handsome like this. 

Unable to resist, you lean up to kiss his cheek. 

He turns his head as you retreat and kisses you. 

Your eyes flutter shut as your head tilts to press against his lips better. He’s warm. You only realize he’s let go of your wrist because your hands come up to brace against his chest, unfettered. His hand on your back grips your waist, and his free hand comes to rest on the other side. They’re searing against your skin. 

When he touches his tongue against your lips, a request, you open up for him, a door thrown all the way open. He kisses you deep, plundering, tongue sliding against yours slowly, sensually. The sound your mouths make when you part for air is filthy. 

You want to be closer, ever closer. When your chest touches his, nipples hard against his skin, he makes a rough noise against you that has you humming in pleasure. 

Fuck it, you think, and you shift so that you’re straddling his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck, skin to skin now. 

He’s half hard from just a few kisses, pressed against your lower belly. There’s an answering pulse in your sex that has you arching against him, craving friction. His hands slide to your ass, fingers dimpling into your skin, pulling you to him.

His mouth travels down your neck, biting gently here and there, sucking. His hand cups up to cup your chest, thumbs across your nipple. You gasp. 

He kisses you again, drinking you in like he can’t get enough. You’re dizzy with want. 

When you pull back for air, he’s breathing hard, and so are you. His eyes are hazy with arousal. You feel like you’ve been taken apart. 

“We movin’ too fast?” he asks.

You blink at him, mind fuzzy, slow to process. “Hm?”

Bakugou lifts a hand, cups the nape of your neck. His thumb glides against your skin, distracting. All you want is for him to keep kissing you. 

“Said we needa slow down.” 

“No,” you say immediately, and he snorts, lips curving. 

He disentangles himself from you, and the sudden space between you leaves you feeling bereft, adrift. 

He stands, completely unselfconscious despite his nudity and visible arousal, and steps out of the water. You watch as he walks over to where you’ve hung your robe and returns to the edge of the bath. He holds the robe open.

“Let’s go inside,” he says. “You've been in there too long.”

Leaving the bath feels a little like Bakugou’s broken a spell that’d fallen over the two of you. You’re not sure what’s going to happen next, and it makes you a little anxious. 

But he’s right. You’ve been in here too long, and you’re a little lightheaded from the heat. 

With a quiet thanks, you step into the robe, the cloth immediately clinging to your damp skin. As you tie it closed, he rubs his lower half down with his discarded shirt and picks up the pants he wore to sleep, puts them on. Then he opens the sliding door, nudges you inside. He heads to the kitchen area. 

You stand there for a second, unsure of what to do with yourself. You wish you knew what he’s thinking. 

“Hey, c’mere. Drink this.” Bakugou returns with a water bottle in his hand. He gives it to you, then corrals you towards one of the beds. “Sit down, you’re swaying like you’re a damn penguin.”

This startles a laugh out of you, and you shake your head, twisting the water bottle open and taking a drink. Bakugou sits next to you, close, legs pressing against each other. He’s still shirtless, a couple drops of water still dripping down his torso here and there. 

You like him so much. You inhale. 

“I’ve liked you since we were teenagers, though I don’t think you noticed,” you say, avoiding his eyes. Your heart is racing. “I don’t think we’re moving too fast if you don’t.” 

Bakugou snorts. “I noticed.”

You turn your head sharply to stare at him for a moment. He gives you one of his mean little grins that has you feeling warm, self-conscious, because it makes him so boyishly handsome.

Groaning, you cover your face with your hands. “Can you just… find someone with a memory quirk and erase all your memories of me back then? Thanks. It was a super embarrassing time of my life.”

Bakugou takes your wrists in his hands, pushing them down so he can see you unhindered. He leans forward and kisses the side of your head, your ear. 

“You saying it was embarrassing, liking me?” he rumbles against you. You shiver. 

“The way I went about liking you was,” you mutter. He snickers, and you shove him. 

After a halting moment, you ask, “Umm… So I thought you barely knew I existed, before this weekend. What…?”

You’re not sure how to finish your sentence. And you hate yourself a little for bringing this up, for potentially killing the mood. But you have to know if this is just a casual thing or—or something else. You don’t know what you’ll do with the answer, but. You want to know. 

He looks at you for a long moment, considering. 

“Only thing I cared about while I was at UA was being the best,” he says, at last. “After the war—I knew I needed to be stronger, to be strong enough. So much shit needed to change. Didn’t have much use for dating.”

“Right,” you say quietly. The years after the war were hard for Japan. So many systems were dismantled and built anew. Some older heroes lost their faith in what they did; the younger ones struggled with the trauma of what they’d lived through. Everyone, hero or not, had to rebuild their lives.

You understand. And Bakugou’s always been so driven and focused with anything he puts his mind to. He’s been instrumental in shaping what this new generation of heroes looks like. 

Bakugou reaches over, puts a hand on your thigh. Even over the cloth of the robe, his warmth reaches your skin. He doesn’t do anything more, just rests it there. Distracting. Sending goosebumps across your body. 

“You were always around, these past couple of years. Hangin’ around Soy Sauce Face and his girl. But you were always fucking running away. What the hell was up with that?” 

Bakugou scowls at you, squeezing your leg a little, and your mind scatters. It takes a moment to gather yourself and process what he’s asked. When you do, you frown. 

“What do you mean, I was always running away?”

“You tell me,” Bakugou growls. 

When you continue to look mystified, Bakugou’s scowl deepens. 

“Whenever I tried to talk to you, you’d scurry away, like a little mouse,” he says. “Didn’t even get to say shit before you’d be gone, hiding behind Tape Head or his girl.” 

As he talks, puzzle pieces begin to fit together in your head. 

When you’d see him at get-togethers, you’d always worried about how you’d come across to him—that he’d be able to tell your crush on him had endured, that it’d become more. So maybe you overcompensated a little. You tried to play it cool, super disinterested in prolonged engagement, and when you could… maybe you did avoid him a little. 

You didn’t realize he’d notice, let alone be bothered by it. 

“Oh,” is all you can manage. 

He narrows his eyes at you. “S’only here that I’ve been able to really talk to you. No Soy Sauce Face. No Soy Sauce girlfriend.”

“Sorry,” you tell him, meek. “I… I’m gonna die, this is so embarrassing.”

You look up at the ceiling to avoid looking at him. “I was trying to keep my distance because this dumb crush on you never went away. And you were obviously not interested, so I wanted to be respectful. Sorry I made things weird instead.”

Realization hits you, and you turn your head to him. “Wait, so—you are… interested…?” 

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “You think I was going to all these dumb hangouts this past year just because I wanted to be there?” 

Oh. Oh. 

You’re not sure what he sees in your face, but he barks out a laugh. He reaches over and takes your face in his hand, squeezes so that your lips and cheeks puff out. 

“For someone so smart, you can be a dumbass, huh,” he says, and his tone is so warm that you don’t even mind. 

You wriggle out of his grip. He lets you, watching you. Your hand drops to your robe’s tie. You undo it. It loosens on your frame. 

You take one of his hands and slip it under the robe, sliding his hand across your skin. The motion bares you to his eyes as the robe falls open. 

“Not moving too fast,” you tell him, and his gaze is so heated, you feel like you’re burning up. 

Bakugou leans forward and kisses you hard. You open up for him immediately, letting his tongue dart in and tangle with yours. Your arms come up to wrap around his neck as you press closer. He shifts so that his body covers yours, and he slowly tilts you back so that you’re lying across the bed.

You love the feeling of his weight on you. You arch up to put pressure against his cock, steadily hardening, and he grunts against your mouth, grinding down onto you in an instinctive motion. 

When you part for breath, he mouths at your neck, biting gently. You squirm, can only clutch at his back. 

“Bakugou,” you say, and his name’s half air.

“S’Katsuki,” he tells you as his lips travel down your body. He takes your nipple in his mouth and sucks. His hand comes up to tease the other one, squeezing, groping your chest. Your legs tighten around his waist, grinding against his bare abdomen, seeking friction to soothe the heat in your sex. 

Bakugou pins you, stopping any motion. He lifts himself up a little, and you whine. 

His gaze drops to your lips, kiss-swollen. His eyes warm, go half-lidded. “Y’hear me? Say it.” 

“Hmm?” You’re so far gone, turned on out of your mind. You just want him inside of you.

You try to press against him, but he pins you with hands on your hips. 

“It’s Katsuki to you,” he says, and you shiver. You put your hands on either side of his face. 

“Katsuki, please,” you say, and you only get a glimpse of his curved lips before they’re on yours again, swallowing you up. 

He gets you fully out of the robe, tosses it aside somewhere. When you wordlessly push at his pants, he takes those off too. 

Skin to skin friction has the both of you so worked up. He’s so hard against you. You want to touch him, so you do, hand wrapping around him and stroking the silky skin. 

He groans, and you’re on fire. 

But Bakugou grips your wrist, stops your caress. He repositions your arms so that your hands are up by your head. 

“You keep them there,” he tells you as he moves down your body, and before you can ask why, his fingers are grazing over your clit, thumbing at it. 

You arch, gasping, and he teases his fingers over your slit, feels how wet you are. He massages slow circles into your clit, and you’re clenching inside, wanting. 

“Please,” you say, throwing an arm over your face, overwhelmed. Bakugou huffs a laugh against your abdomen, pressing a kiss there. He pushes a finger inside you, stretching you. He’s gentle, going slow and paying close attention to your reactions to see if anything hurts.

But he’s going too slow—it’s not enough. 

“More,” you tell him. “It’s okay, more.” 

So he adds another finger, and your pussy flutters around him as he begins to loosen you up, pumping them in and out, curling them when they’re inside you. You’re so slick that your sex makes a filthy wet sound as he plays with you. 

“Fuck,” you say, mind splitting apart. You kiss him, messy, and he just feels so good. It’s such a pleasurable stretch when he adds a third finger. 

When he takes all of his fingers out, your body chases him, arching. You’re so close. 

“Katsuki,” you begin, just as he puts his mouth on your clit and sucks. 

Your entire body shudders, and he licks up and down your slit, tongue dipping inside you. Your hips begin to undulate as you begin to peak, your hands gripping the sheets on either side of you. 

You come as his tongue flicks at your clit, gasping your pleasure. 

He wraps a big hand around your waist as you ride it out, mouthing at your inner thighs. 

You’re breathing hard, little shivers going through you in tiny aftershocks. Bakugou comes back up the bed, wrapping his arms around you. You immediately turn your head for a kiss, tasting yourself on him. 

His cock’s still so hard, pressed against your leg, your ass. You’re not done yet. You want to make him feel good. 

You reach down and take him in hand. It’s so big with how turned on he is, just from giving you pleasure, and it twitches in your grasp. His hips jerk, searching for relief. 

“Want you inside,” you tell him, and his eyes are searing. 

You shift so that you’re on top of him, pussy pressed against the line of his dick. He’s throbbing against you, and it’s a little mean, but you grind your hips down on him, moving so that he slides up and down your slit. The tip of his cock slips over your entrance over and over again, pushing in a little but not quite. 

Bakugou grips your waist with two hands to halt you. You bite your lip to hide a smile. 

“Brat,” he growls, dangerous.

In answer, you take him in your hand and position the tip of his dick right at your entrance and slowly sink down. 

His eyes drop to watch his cock enter you, inch by inch, and his grip on you is nearly bruising, fingers indenting your skin. You’re still sensitive, clenching around him, but you’re taking him so easy because you’re still wet from your orgasm. 

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Bakugou says, and he says it so low, guttural, that you tighten around him. The look on his face is working you up; it’s an intoxicating expression of desire.

You begin moving, lifting up and down on his cock. His eyes are cloudy with want as he watches you on top of him, you with your tits bouncing. He reaches up to cup your breast. Leaning forward, you kiss him, and his answer is hungry as your pace quickens. You pant into his mouth. 

But you think maybe you’re not going fast enough for him. He’s careful with you, but looking down at him, you can tell he’s holding back. 

So you stop, lift up off of him, let him slip out of you.

“Whatever you want,” you tell him, and his next movements are so fast.

Bakugou lifts you up off of him and presses you back into the bed. He takes your legs, spreads them so they’re straddling his hips, and he’s back inside of you with a hard thrust. Gripping your waist, he chases his pleasure, slamming his cock in you over and over again.

The sudden intense friction against your walls has you climbing that peak again, and you clutch at his back. As if sensing it, he slips a hand down between the two of you to massage circles into your clit. He catches your moan in his mouth. 

“Katsuki,” you say, just as you begin convulsing around him, feverish, nails digging into his skin. 

“Fuck, you’re so—” he growls as you continue to tense up around him, fluttering, and then he’s following you over. You can feel his warmth as he comes in you, his big body coming to rest against yours. He kisses the side of your head, your forehead, your mouth. You smile against him. 

Sleep comes for the both of you, for a while. You’re not sure if it’s been minutes or hours when you come to, but when you do, soft morning light floods the room. 

You jolt up in a panic. Looking around, you search for your phone. You move to get out of bed when you don’t immediately find it. 

“Where the hell’re you going,” Bakugou grumbles. He throws an arm over your waist and mouths at your hip.

“We gotta get packing, Katsuki,” you say, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “Or at least I do! I’m checking out this morning.”

“Stay another day,” he says, voice a little growly and his eyes closed, and you stop. “I know you’ve got a shit ton of leave saved up.”

“And how would you know that?” you ask. You put your hand on his head, thread it through his blond hair.

“Tape Head said you haven’t taken off in forever,” he says. 

Bakugou opens his eyes, looks up at you. He presses a kiss against your skin. Bites you gently. 

“Stay with me,” he tells you.

And what else can you say but yes?

Final Notes: And we're done! Thank you all of you for following this little labor of love to its conclusion. 💖 Bakugou's birthday fic's finally completed, over a month after the fact.

A couple things! Some of you caught on to the fact that Bakugou being at this onsen ryokan at the same time as reader was a little fishy—you were so right. Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari gifted Bakugou the reservation for his birthday, knowing that you would be there with Rie, knowing Bakugou's been interested in you for a while now. (Bakugou knew something was up immediately after he saw you at the ryokan.) Rie having to leave was purely coincidental, but it turned out to be a happy coincidence!

(I love you guys; the comments you left last chapter and the conversation you guys were having with each other made me laugh.)

The location for the hike is based off Fuji-Hakone-Izu National Park, specifically the Mount Amagi hikes, with a lot of creative liberty taken.

I think the only Japanese used here was a mention of onigiri, which are rice balls with a seaweed wrapping with various fillings inside.

Once again, thank you for reading! All your likes, reblogs, comments—I appreciate them so much. Hugs and kisses, and until next time! ✨💞

Tag List: @blairbellerose @yeehawgiddyup13 @reads-stuff-quietly @surprisemodafakas @scarlett-witchh @queenpiranhadon @sleepyyhabii @j-pendragonx @bakunianadecorazon @dreamingoftomorrow @nonamebbsblog @gina239 @seabass17 @dynakats @I-bozo-I @humblechumbble @universal-s1ut @sweetblueworm @kukikoooo @liluvtojineteyam @nemisimp @bkgnotsuma @poemzcheng @farrowroyale @simp-plague @dreamingoftomorrow @mystic60 @k0z3me @buzzyandbadatmath @anicaaa67 @icedemon1314 @lovra974 @andyetshewrote @frostbez @mo0nforme @mrsjna @pinkpurpledreams

[20doozers]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOM AND BILL!! THE BEST TWINS IN THE WORLD TURNING 35!!!!!

[beanbagbuddies4life]

Sting the Ray

via

Born August 27, 1995

I'm a manta ray and my name is Sting I'm quite unusual and this is the thing Under the water I glide like a bird Have you ever seen something so absurd?

Sting is a Teenie Beanie too!

[renardiererin]

guys it’s my FUCKING birthday, time to update bio 😜😜😜😜😜

[tethrras]

my mom literally trying to gaslight me in real time is sooo funny

[devilofthehounds]

[first image id: A closeup of the Monark protagonist's face, white feathers in the foreground and background. Reflected in one of his eyes is an individual with dark hair partially turned away from him. In the bottom right corner of the image are a black crown and flag with the words "3rd Anniversary" written below. /end id]

[second image id: A cropped version of the previous image, zoomed in to show a closeup of the protagonist's eye. /end id]

[third image id: In a dark space illuminated by a single beam of light, the Monark protagonist stands with an individual with dark hair, likely the same individual from the previous images. The two are both holding smartphones with bright red screens. At the individual's feet is a broken balance scale. White birds fly around the space. In the foreground is a white crown, and in the background is a tall white flag. At the bottom of the image are the same crown and flag as the first image but white, with the words "2nd Anniversary" written below. /end id]

[fourth image id: A cropped version of the previous image, zoome din to show a closeup of the individual's face, partially obscured by a passing bird. /end id]

Y'all.

Y'ALL.

Is Monark 2 actually happening???

2nd Anniversary Tweet

3rd Anniversary Tweet

[soul-eater-novel]

P202

「わかった。では、屋上で」 “All right. Let’s go to the roof.”

根を携え、カイが広間から出ていった。 Kai left the hall, carrying his staff in hand.

ティルは椙を握り、その後を追った。 Gripping his own staff tightly, Tir followed him.

それからというもの、��ィルはカイを相手に棒術の稽古に打ち込んだ。 From that moment on, Tir devoted himself to studying bōjutsu under Kai’s tutelage.

身体中があざだらけになり、手の皮もすりむけた。 His body was bruised all over, his hands blistered.

新たにティルはいくつかの奥義をカイから授かったが、それよりも今は、くたくたになって泥のように眠れればよかった。 Tir did learn a number of secret techniques anew from Kai, but he was simply glad to be so bone-weary exhausted that he collapsed into bed and slept like the dead.

ティルがそうして過ごしている間に、一人トラン湖を船で渡り、パーンが居城に帰ってきた。 While Tir spent his days training, Pahn crossed Toran Lake alone and made his way back to the castle.

皆に喜んで迎えられた。 His arrival was met with cheers.

ハーンは傷だらけだった。 Pahn was covered in cuts and wounds.

クレオに包帯でぐるぐる巻きにされ、ベッドに横たわったパーンは、テオとの一騎打ちを振り返って大きくため息をついた。 Cleo wrapped him in bandages. Laying in bed, Pahn sighed as he recounted his one-on-one battle with Teo.

「あの戦い、到底俺が勝ったとは思えません。もしかしたらテオ様は、俺のことを見逃してくれたのかも……」 “Didn’t think there was any way I was comin’ out of that fight alive. Lord Teo must have let me get away…”

父ならそうするだろうと、ティルは思った。 But Tir wasn’t so certain.

テオは全力でぶつかってこいと、ティルに言っているのだ。 After all, Teo had told Tir he would strike them with his full strength.

またそれから三日後、湖賊を訪ねたヤム・クーが一人の男を連れて城に戻ってきた。 Three days after Pahn came back, Yam Koo returned from his visit to the pirates with a guest in tow.

額に青の鉢巻を巻き、青い長羽織を着たその男は、湖賊の頭領アンジーと名乗った。 It was Anji, the leader of the lake pirates. He sported a blue headband and wore a long, azure haori coat.

もとはトラン湖の船商人だったが、帝国の横暴に耐えかね、仲間を集めて湖賊をはじめたという。 He said he had originally been a Lake Toran merchant but, unable to stand the violence of the Empire, had gathered together like-minded comrades. This was how the lake pirates started.

「いけすかねえ帝国のヤツらにひと泡吹かせてやりましょうぜ」 “Let’s blow those dirty Imperial bastards outta the water!”

P203 アンジーはそう言って解放軍への力を約束し、二千の兵を提供してくれた。 declared Anji, pledging two thousand of his men to the Liberation Army’s cause.

そして自分は、部下の怪力男カナック、鎖鎌の使い手レオナルドと共にソニアの砦を攻めると言って湖賊の砦へと戻っていった。 Before returning to the pirate stronghold, he explained how he would attack Sonya’s fortress alongside his crew; Kanak, a fearsomely strong man, and Leonardo, who wielded a sickle and chain.

そして二十日が経過し、フリックたちが戻ってきた。 After twenty days, Flik and the others returned.

彼らは六百本の火炎槍を、秘密工場の主モース、そのお手伝いの女格闘家ロニー・ベルと共に、無事に居城まで運んできた。 Together with Mose, the head of the secret factory, and his assistant Ronnie Bell, who was a female martial artist, they came bearing six hundred fire spears and safely transported them to the castle.

ティルの根を一回り太くしたような長い銀の柄。 The spears were long and silver, one size larger than Tir’s staff.

その尻には紋章片が入っているのか、小さな球体が取り付けられている。 There was a small globe on one end, apparently embedded with a rune fragment.

柄の中程には仕掛けを作動させるスイッチがついていて、先端には炎を吹き出す小さな口が開いていた。 The shaft of the spear contained a switch. When flipped, flames would spew out of a small opening in the tip of the spear.

フリックが言うには、火炎槍はずっと使えるわけでなく、紋章片の力が尽きたところで効力を失うということだった。 According to Flik, this ability was limited. Once the rune fragment’s power was used up, the spears would no longer be able to shoot flames.

彼らは火炎槍を運んだだけでなく、北方から新たな有志で連れてきた。 In addition to the fire spears, they also brought new volunteers with them from the north.

キーロフの街からは洗濯上手のセイラ、カードゲームが得意な遊び人のジョルジュ、料理人のレスター、音楽好きの少女メロディ、タイ・ホーの顔見知りの船商人のクン・トーが参戦した。 These new recruits included Sarah, an expert laundress from the town of Kirov. Georges, whose skill lay in card games. Lester the chef. Melodye, a young woman who loved music, as well as Kun To, an acquaintance of Tai Ho and fellow sailor.

荒廃したカレッカの町からはマッシュの叔父に当たる軍師レオン・シルバーバーグ、農夫のブラックマンが参加し、秘密工場のモース、ロニー・ベルもそのまま合流した。 From the ruins of Kalekka came the renowned tactician Leon Silverberg, who also happened to be Mathiu’s uncle, and Blackman, a farmer. They were joined by Mose and Ronnie Bell from the secret factory.

山賊のケスラーとルドン、そして忍びのカゲという男も、秘密工場で仲間になった。 At the factory, they also befriended the bandits Kessler and Ledon as well as the ninja Kage.

しかもキーロフの街の船商人クン・トーは、腕に覚えのある船乗り二千を解放軍に合流させた。 Moreover, the sailor Kun To of Kirov brought with him two thousand men and women skilled with ships and added their numbers to the Liberation Army’s ranks.

[ «-first // previous // next // archive // Ramsus-kun Scanslations ]

[ravendruid]

Heyo! If possible from the fluff prompts #11. The first time they call them an endearment. (Vaxleth too if thats alright?)

The first time they call them an endearment (This drabble happens during the one-year break, and it gets steamy at the end—nothing explicit, though.)

Keyleth can’t remember the last time Vox Machina sat down for a proper warm meal—that wasn’t chicken—without rushing off to fight a dragon or some other threatening beast. Months have passed since they fell the Chroma Conclave and since Keyleth finished her Aramenté, and each member of Vox Machina had gone their separate ways—most of them in pairs—to do their own thing. Vex’ahlia and Percival are supervising the rebuild and recovery of Whitestone, the successful couple often drowning in piles of paperwork; Pike and Grog have traveled to Vasselheim, Pike to watch over the temple of the Everlight, and Grog to do… well, what Grog does best: fight. Scanlan is the biggest unknown. No one knows where he is or what he’s up to since his sudden departure. And then there is Taryon, the newest member of Vox Machina, who is staying in Whitestone and spending hours in the workshop with Percy working on Doty. As for Keyleth, she had to return to Zephrah sooner or later, right? And what better time to do it than when in the company of the one she cares for the most?

Vax’ildan was tireless during their first weeks in Zephrah. He walked Keyleth to and from work, stayed by her side or slightly behind her whenever allowed, and offered a hand of comfort and reassurance when Keyleth felt like she was drowning. Keyleth isn’t sure if she believes in soul mates, but she knows the love she and Vax have for each other is beyond compare. A passion that existed between her parents but one she was too young to witness. 

Vax still surprises her every day, even after knowing each other for years and being together for months. Vax’s surprises, much like his pranks, often come suddenly and at the most random times. Although Keyleth tries her best to ready herself for them, he always manages to sweep her off her feet. And that’s why, on one of the rare moments that Vox Machina can gather around a table to trade stories and clink their cups full of ale, Keyleth finds herself falling harder for the man who has defied death in many different ways. He’s relaxed and carefree, with no armor or weapons at his hip—except for the ones Keyleth knows are hidden in his boots. Just a man laughing and drinking with his best friends, his found family. Keyleth watches him from across the table. She sees the mischievous shine in his eye as he leans in to steal some meat from Grog’s plate when the Goliath isn’t looking and the wink he throws Pike when she giggles at his boldness. Keyleth sees in Vax pride and pure happiness for his sister, whose head lies on Percy’s shoulder at her side as they talk. She sees a man who has no worries at the moment. No goddesses with debts to collect.

“Kiki?”

Vax’s voice is soft and sweet. Keyleth almost misses the call because of how enthralled she is by his beauty. It takes her brain a moment to process, but once it does, her face opens up like the sun shining after a rainy day. She looks around, heat rising to her cheeks, hoping none of her friends heard the way Vax spoke her name, lest they tease the couple incessantly as they usually do, but everyone is currently absorbed in their own conversation. 

“Come with me.”

Vax stands up, not even waiting for an answer, and walks with the confidence of a man who knows what he wants and who would go to great lengths to get it. Keyleth knows this stride. She knows it so well it burns her skin to think about the times he has used it to lure her into his trap—a very delicious trap, too—like a spider luring a fly. She could ignore his siren call, but she won’t, so she follows him, tripping on her feet and the hem of her dress, her blood already boiling in anticipation. If any of their friends notice their departure, no one comments—the teasing is usually reserved for when the couple returns with their hair disheveled and clothes askew, their faces still red from exhaustion but smiles brighter than a full moon.

Although the champion of the goddess of death can blend with the shadows and walk with no sound to his steps, he opts not to as he strides down a long corridor decorated with pictures of the long-dead de Rolos. Keyleth thanks him in silence as she guides herself by the sounds of his steps, only able to see the dark shape of his slender body feet ahead of her. She would follow him blindly anywhere, even to her death, but she knows Vax better than she knows herself, and he would never allow such a thing to happen on his watch. Excitement builds up when he finally stops in front of a wooden door leading to a room Keyleth has never seen before. It is dark and small, and it smells slightly of mildew. She considers summoning one of her floating flames to allow them to see more than the gray shadows around them, but Vax is quicker—as usual. In a flick of his wrist, Flametongue is out of its sheath and placed on top of a loaded shelf in the small storage room. From what Keyleth can see, there are boxes and crates around them.

“Hi,” Vax greets her with a mischievous grin. His eyes shine with hunger, the dilated pupils frozen on Keyleth’s lips. 

“Hi,” She barely breathes, her chest rising and falling faster as her body reacts to the closeness of her partner. Keyleth sees in Vax’s eyes the need he has for her, but like the gentleman he is, he waits until she gives him permission. Maybe she should make him wait tonight. She could simply turn around and exit the room, leave Vax in this state of desperate need, and make him wait until the night ends. Keyleth has the power, and oh, how good it feels. But she’s weak to her desires when it concerns Vax, so she grabs the back of his head fiercely and brings his lips to hers, not wanting to prolong the torture anymore.

“You know,” Vax’s hot breath tickles the skin of her neck, just below her ear, where she loves to be kissed the most, “you’re going to be the death of me, my love.”

My love. The new endearment sends chills down Keyleth’s spine. It makes her toes curl, and her need grows even more unbearable—or maybe that is due to how Vax kisses her neck eagerly. 

“Vax—”

The man chuckles at the desperation in her voice, at the frantic hands that unfasten the ties of his pants, at the soft moans that ensue as his lips meet Keyleth’s skin again. He knows her deepest desires and effortlessly obeys all her commands. It’s during these moments of greater intimacy between them that Keyleth finds the irony of being worshiped by this man whose soul belongs to a God, and yet, it is to her that he devotes himself without a second thought.

[toestalucia]

guys we have a little problem

[silverselfshippingchaos]

it's the 23rd... you know what that means...

Happy Ash Day!

[tigerrampage]

JOKER POKER ft. Megurine Luka, MEIKO & KAITO - UNITED CATS | album: THE THEATHER (2014)

[extraforgottenfriendshiprpg]

Mun/Member Birthdays For The Month Of March 2023 :

March 5th -- Admin. Aleah ( nineteen-years-old ) @aleahsmultimuseblog

March 9th -- Aria ( twenty-six-years-old ) @ariasgrcycosmicsmultimuseblog

March 11th – Paisley ( twenty-one-years-old ) @paisleysmultimuseblog

March 15th -- Chloe-Nicole ( twenty-years-old ) @delicateflowerstm

March 16th – Sarah ( twenty-one-years-old ) @marksforeffort

March 16th – Tamara ( nineteen-years-old ) @tamarasmultimuseblog

March 23rd – Admin. Atthea ( twenty-years-old ) @attheasmultimuseblog

March 23rd – Jessica ( twenty-five-years-old ) @noprincessfm

Character Birthdays For The Month Of March 2023 :

March 21st – Timmy Turner ( @racingstarsxo ) and Chloe Carmichael ( @sparklesandsonicrainbooms ) from The Fairly OddParents

March 25th – Lillian ‘Lil’ DeVille  ( @emmasmultimuseblog ) and Phillip 'Phil’ DeVille ( @recklcssness from Rugrats / All Grown Up!

Please notify us if you or your character will be having a birthday sometime this month, so that we can update this post. Thank you !!

[jayybugg]

nurse

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ghost avoids you but it's not what you think.

Warning: Slight Time Skips, Kinda Asshole Ghost?, Smut (18+), Use of Y/N, Language (?).

Word Count: 4.6K

Note: Now, I know in my master list I said that right now I would only be writing for the Slytherin Boys......but I have spiraled back into my Call of Duty, specifically Ghost. Now this is just an experiment, I don't know how this will go over but if you guys like it then maybeeee I'll post my other fandom fics that I have.

Also! This is a birthday gift for my beautiful gem, @slytherinslut0 , so everyone thank her and wish her a happy birthday. As always, @cafekitsune is on the banner.

Taskforce 141 didn’t pay any attention when they were told that they would have a new nurse on the base. They assumed it would be another male, just like everyone who got employed here.

So, only one could imagine their shock when the base’s doctor, Dr. Moscaw, introduced a pretty little thing like you to the team.

“This is Y/N. She will work under me. Your first point of contact for anything medical-wise.” Moscaw spoke, “Don’t go scaring her off, boys.”

There were grumbles and protests as Dr. Moscaw left you with the team. You cleared your throat as you gave them all a nervous smile. All their eyes were on you, surveying you almost like prey. A certain man with a skull mask being the most intense one. “Um, right. You all desperately need an annual check-up. So, whenever you all have a moment, please stop by the medical ward. I would love to update your records and meet you all.”

Before any of them could say anything, you had scurried off.

Over the next few weeks, they all came in one by one. Introducing themselves as you went through updating their records.

First came Captain Price. You liked to think that he came in to lead by example and not to get out of his mountain of paperwork. Then Kyle came in the next day. He begged you to call him “Gaz”, saying that nobody on base ever calls him Kyle.

Not long after Gaz came, Johnny waltzed into your office. He was flirty but overall friendly. Johnny, just like Gaz, begged you to call him Soap like everyone else. He was the one who referred to you as a breath of fresh air amidst the testosterone-filled air. Often, he and Gaz came to your office. They always claimed to be checking up on you, but you knew it was because they were hiding from their duties.

“Where is…. um, Ghost? Or is his name Simon? It’s two first names on this file.” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows at the lack of information in his records. Soap chuckled, glancing up from his phone to you. “Ghost is the name he’s gonna give ‘ya. It’s the name that we all know him by.”

“A field name, I assume?” You asked, looking up from your computer. Gaz and Soap nodded. “Yep. His name for plenty of reasons, but that’s neither here nor there.” Gaz waved his hand dismissively.

“Well, is he going to come in for a check-up? He doesn’t have another doctor or anything listed.” You sighed. “His medical record is empty. There is nothing on here, other than his name and height. No birthday, no past medication history, nothing.”

“Of course, that’s all that’s on there. That’s all anyone knows about him.” Soap laughed. “He’s not gonna come in here for a check-up.”

“What? Why not?” You asked, closing your computer.

“Too much information.” Gaz shrugged. “Nobody knows anything about him. It’s a shocker that he even allowed his real name to be on those records.”

“So, nobody knows if this guy even goes to the doctor?” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “That’s insane.”

“Ya may be right, but that means nothing to Ghost.” Soap said.

“And insane is basically his middle name. The man does whatever he wants.” Gaz added.

“Do you think he will come in if I just ask?” You pondered to the men.

Gaz and Soap glanced at each other before shrugging. “If you bat those pretty eyelashes at any man on this base, they’ll be eating out the palm of your hand,” Soap said.

“But Ghost isn’t like the average man. He’s not easily swayed like most.” Gaz added, “But I mean, it won’t hurt to try.”

With the encouragement from Gaz and Soap to just try to ask him, you spent the next few weeks attempting to track Ghost down. Unfortunately for you, he lived up to his name very well. It was like every time you went looking for him, everyone had “just seen him.”

Eventually, you found him, by pure coincidence. You were walking to your car, getting ready to leave the base for the day when your eyes landed on a 6’4, muscular man who donned a skull balaclava. You hadn’t seen him since the day that Price had introduced you to the team. He seemed bigger and a bit more intimidating than before, but your determination outweighed your nervousness.

You walked up to him, clearing your throat. Ghost stopped fiddling with his motorcycle to drag his eyes up to your face. His eyes were dark and analytical as he scanned your face before tracing down your body. You felt self-conscious of his wondering gaze.

“Whatcha ‘ya want?” His voice was deep, his accent coming out heavier than you thought it was.

“Um, I’m the new nurse.” You squeaked out before clearing your throat.

“I know.”

“Right.” You took a deep breath. “Your medical records are empty and you’re the only one who hasn’t come in for a check-up.”

There was a brief silence between you two as you waited for him to say something, anything. When you got the hint that he wasn’t going to say anything, you decided to just push forward and ask.

“Will you come in for one? And maybe introduce yourself a little more?”

Ghost stared at you a little longer before turning back to his motorcycle. “No.”

Your eyes widened at the blatant refusal. You raised your eyebrow, crossing your arms. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Do ‘ya not know what ‘no’ means? Aren’t ‘ya educated?” Ghost grunted; his back still turned to you.

“You can’t just…. You must fill out these records somehow!”

“No, I don’t.”

You narrowed your eyes at Ghost, huffing slightly. “It’s mandatory to at least get an annual check-up.”

“So, I’ve heard. Don’t care.” He spoke again, throwing one leg over the motorcycle. He started it up, gripping the handles. His eyes focused on your face again as he revved the engine.

“But-”

Before you could even think about responding, Ghost had sped off, leaving you in the dust.

“And he just sped off?” Soap laughed. Gaz smacked his arm, giving you an apologetic look.

“Ignore Soap. He has a terrible sense of humor.” Gaz rolled his eyes. “But we told you he was hard to sway.”

“I just don’t understand why he doesn’t want to come in.” You groaned, “Maybe he just doesn’t want to get to know me?”

“It’s Ghost, you aren’t supposed to understand him.” Gaz shrugged. “But I doubt it’s you that he’s against.”

You let another groan, causing the two men to chuckle.

“Hell, Darlin’, you might just make the man nervous as hell. As you can see, we don’t have many pretty females around here.” Soap leaned back in his chair, grinning at you.

“Me? Make Ghost nervous? Please.” You raised an eyebrow, rolling your eyes. Soap shrugged, “You never know, he could be.”

“You never know,” Gaz said, agreeing with Soap.

“Whatever.” You muttered, ending the conversation.

Weeks had passed and Ghost gave no sign of even considering stepping into the medical ward or trying to talk to you. He evaded you any chance he got. You told Dr. Moscaw and Price about the predicament with Ghost. Both waved it off and said, “He’s Ghost, that’s just how he is.

When your official first three months of working on the base had come around, Soap and Gaz had invited you out to the bar to celebrate.

“It’ll be everyone. Cap, Laswell, König, hell, even Ghost said he would come.” Soap smiled at you. You scoffed slightly at the revelation that Ghost was going to show his masked face at the bar. “Are we sure he’s coming for me, or rather, the drinks?” You asked, your eyes focused on the computer screen in front of you.

Gaz chuckled. “He refused to go until we said it was a celebration for you.”

“Funny that the man that evades me wants to come to my celebration.” You muttered.

“You know, he’s probably around you more than you think,” Soap said, causing you to look up at him with a raised eyebrow. Soap shrugged, continuing, “I mean, he’s known for being around without others knowing, hence the name Ghost.”

“Like he sees me, but I don’t see him?” You asked. Soap and Gaz nodded.

“Think of it like he is collecting information on you. The poor guy lives and breathes our missions and the military. It’s all he knows. It works with the idea that you make the man nervous.” Gaz said, patting your back as he and Soap filed out of your office.

Gaz’s and Soap’s words stuck to you. Maybe you had gone about approaching Ghost all wrong. He was quieter than Gaz and Soap and obviously more secretive, given the blank medical record and the mask. Maybe you should let him approach you, let him feel you out to see if you’re trustworthy or not.

When the night of the celebration rolled around, you promised yourself that you would not pester Ghost. Despite the growing need to get to know him and your nursing instincts to make sure he was healthy; you were going to let him come to you.

You walked into the bar, tugging slightly at your dress that rose from sitting in the taxi. Your black mini dress hugged your curves and had a low neckline that showed off your cleavage with your matching strappy heels. Although Soap and Gaz had to you to come dressed up, you debated calling the taxi back and going home to change. You were going to be with your co-workers, who were most likely going to be in jeans.

You sighed, pushing open the door to the bar. Your eyes snapped over to the large table in the back of the bar where all your coworkers sat. “Y/N!” Gaz yelled, jumping up from his seat. He grabbed your arm, escorting you to the table. Everyone shot you a smile, except König and Ghost, who both donned a balaclava. Although, you could tell from the crinkle in König’s eyes that he was smiling at you.

“The guest of honor is finally here.” Laswell smiled at you. “Congratulations on sticking it out at the base for three months. I must admit, I thought these boys would scare you away by now.”

“No, I’m tougher than I look.” You joked, “Plus, everyone is nice. I felt welcomed.”

Gaz and Soap gave Ghost an unmistakable side eye that you caught, and if you caught it, then everyone at the table caught it. You also didn’t miss the narrowed eyes that Ghost gave back to Gaz and Soap.

“A round of shots! For our new family member.” Price winked at you, giving you a warm smile.

That’s how the night went on, chatting and drinks getting passed around. It didn’t take you long to get buzzed. You kept true to your promise to yourself and didn’t go looking for interactions with Ghost.

However, you felt his eyes on you. It was like they never left you, always following your every movement.

It felt familiar.

Ghost stayed quiet the whole night, not cracking a chuckle at any jokes or taking part in the conversations. His eyes wandered the bar as if he was looking for any type of escape. Whenever your eyes met his, he looked away, his eyes hardening in the process.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” You said, feeling the alcohol finally run through you and back up your throat. Although everyone was too occupied with their conversations to hear you. You stumbled your way to the bathroom, pushing open the door. You wasted no time, bending over the toilet and vomiting what little contents that were in your stomach.

“I knew I should’ve eaten before….” You whispered to yourself.

“Yeah, ‘ya should have. Not very nurse of ‘ya.” A deep voice echoed behind you.

You jumped, turning around, clutching your chest as your eyes landed on Ghost. He stood behind you, arms crossed, as he leaned against the stall door.

“God, when the fuck did you get in here?” You asked, your eyes traveling down his figure. This would be the first time that you had ever seen Ghost in civilian clothes. Even on relaxed days on the base, Ghost wore full tactical gear. Tonight, he opted for a compression tee and black sweatpants, as if he was planning to go to the gym after all of this.

Which wouldn’t be surprising for Ghost.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos.” Your eyes landed on his sleeve, which seemed to move as he unconsciously flexed his muscles.

“I know ‘ya didn’t.” Ghost said, offering his hand out to you. You took it gratefully, standing up to your two feet. Ghost handed you some mouthwash and gum, along with your purse.

“Didn’t want nobody shifting through ‘ya stuff.” Ghost said when he saw the look that you gave him, “Also thought ‘ya might want to touch up ‘ya make up.”

“Thank you.” You gave him a small smile. He nodded, turning on his heel to leave out the bathroom. You swigged the mouthwash around, spitting into the sink. You freshen up your makeup before popping the piece of gum in your mouth.

You made your way back to the table, sitting down when a waitress came and dropped a personal pan of pepperoni pizza in front of you with water. “Oh,” You looked up at her, “I didn’t order this.”

“One of your friends ordered it for you. Told me to bring it when you came back to your seat.” She smiled and walked away. You glanced down at the pizza with a smile. Pizza was your favorite greasy food; it matched the rumbling of your drunk stomach perfectly.

You looked up at Soap and Gaz, the only two people who would know about your guilty pleasure food. Soap was leaning against the table flirting with another waitress while Gaz made bets with Price on football games. You decided you would thank one of them later when they weren’t busy.

4 am finally rolled around, causing the night to end. Gaz had called you a cab, walking you out as everyone said their goodbyes. Ghost had already mounted his motorcycle and sped off into the night. Once Gaz got you settled in the backseat, you smiled at him. “Thanks, Gaz. Oh, and thank you for the pizza, too.”

Gaz raised his eyebrow. “What pizza?”

“The pizza you ordered me when I went to the bathroom.” You clarified.

“I didn’t order you a pizza, hell, I didn’t even know you went to the bathroom.” Gaz said before chuckling a bit with a mischievous smirk, “The only person who ordered food was Ghost.”

Before you could ask anything more, Gaz tapped the roof of the car and your taxi pulled off.

You went even longer without seeing Ghost after the bar. It was almost as if he had just disappeared into thin air. You tried to question Gaz and Soap, but they claimed they knew nothing about it. Saying that it was probably a “lucky guess” but if anything they had told you about Ghost was true, nothing he did was just a lucky guess.

You pushed all your questions to the back of your mind, as you knew you weren’t going to get any answers any time soon. You were cleaning up the office as your day was ending. 141 were out on a mission, a relatively relaxed one, so your office was quiet and easy to pack up rather than having to tell Soap to stop touching stuff every 5 minutes.

You hummed to yourself, not taking notice that your office door had swung open.

“You’re terrible at being aware of ‘ya surroundings.”

You jumped, a squeal falling from your mouth. “You have to stop doing that!”

Ghost stood at your door, in sweatpants and a hoodie. His arms crossed as he stared at you through his mask. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. You suddenly felt small like the room was closing in on you due to Ghost’s tall frame.

“What are you doing here?” You asked. Ghost’s eyes seemed to widen, as if he wasn’t sure why he was there either.

“Give me a check-up.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, glancing over at the clock. It was 7:35 pm, and the base was basically empty.

“It can’t wait til tomorrow?” You asked. Ghost took a step closer to you, “I thought you wanted to get to know me?”

“I do but-”

“Then give me the check-up.” Ghost grunted, sitting on the bench. His large frame made the normally large bench look small under him.

You sighed softly, getting out your equipment to start his check-up. You stay silent as you slip on your latex gloves after washing your hands. “So, I’m guessing something happened on the mission.”

Ghost looked over to you, his eyes coated in a small dose of confusion. “What?”

“I mean, you seemed very adamant about not getting a check-up before and now you’re here after a mission. I just assumed maybe something happened.” You clarified as you moved to check his heartbeat.

It took everything in you not to let your hands wander across his chest as you pulled away from him to turn to your computer and record the data.

“Nothing happened. Just built up some confidence.” He said, getting off the bench to stand behind you closely.

“O-oh…. confidence for what?” You took a deep breath, your eyes focusing on the computer screen.

Ghost didn’t answer your question, instead, he grabbed your shoulders and spun you around to face him. “You’re very annoying, you know that?”

“What?” Your eyes widened.

“You’re always around, smelling good. In these scrubs that hug your body tighter than any other scrubs I’ve ever seen.” Ghost muttered, “Always laughing at Soap’s stupid jokes. Always getting pizza when you know you aren’t supposed to.”

“I try to avoid you and ignore you, but you just crawl your little ass into my mind anyways. All mission…. just thinking and wondering what you’re doing.” Ghost continued.

“Is this your way of admitting that you’ve been thinking about me?” You asked.

Ghost stayed silent. His eyes stay trained on you, no words or sounds coming from him. His hand moved to take a piece of your hair and twirling it around his finger.

“Um, we should finish the check-up so we can go.” You spoke softly. Ghost ignored you, dipping his face into your neck. He took a deep breath. “God, you smell heavenly.”

“Ghost....”

“I need you.” He grumbled, “I need you all around me. I’ve learned everything I can about you and all I can think about is how I need to feel about you.”

“How I need to ruin you.”

You felt a knot in your stomach at his words, heat pooling inside you. “R-ruin me?”

“Beyond belief.” Ghost confirmed, “Give me the green light.”

You stayed silent as Ghost pushed his knee between your legs, pressing his knees gently against your core, causing a whimper to fall from your mouth. He lifted his mask to reveal his lips, pressing against your neck in soft, wet kisses. “Y/N. Answer me.”

“I….” You gasped for air, “P-please…do it.”

Ghost didn’t need to hear anything else. He lifted you easily, throwing you on the bench. He yanked your top off, groping your breast. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about these since the bar. So soft and plump…” Ghost grumbled, pulling your bra down and latching his mouth to your nipple.

A small moan fell from your mouth at the actions. His tongue swirled around your nipple before he pulled away with a slight “pop”. He left a trail of kisses down your chest to your naval. He tugged down your pants, throwing them in the same direction as your top. He groaned at the sight of the wet spot in your panties.

“So wet and ready for me. Huh, love?” Ghost said, blowing softly on your clothed clit.

You whined softly, nodding your head. He slapped your thigh, his eyes looking up at you. “I want to hear use your words. Let me hear that pretty voice that has been plaguing my mind for these past few months.”

You let out a sigh as Ghost pressed the pad of his tongue to your slit through your panties, teasing you. “Yes…. I’m wet and ready for you.”

“Good fucking girl, Lovie.” Ghost chuckled, moving your panties to the side to latch his mouth to your clit. He sucked and lapped at your clit harshly, your moans becoming uncontrollable as he ate you out like a starved man. His tongue teased your slit, flicking his tongue up and down.

He gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you closer to him. His nose pressed against your clit, stimulating you more and more. “Oh God, fuck, Ghost.” You moaned, your hands reaching out to grip the top of his balaclava.

“That’s right. I want you moaning my name like it’s the only thing that pretty little mind knows.” Ghost muttered, slipping two fingers into you as he kept lapping up all your juices. Your thighs tightened around his face as you felt your climax coming.

Ghost groaned at the action, his cock twitching with anticipation. You tossed your head back as pleasure coursed through your body. “I’m about to cum, fuck, I’m s’close.”

Your words seem to push Ghost further into sending you over the edge. His tongue moved faster against you as his fingers matched his pace. Your mind was blanking from the orgasm that rushed over your body. Ghost pulled his fingers out slowly as he pulled away from your swollen clit. His mouth was covered in your slick as he smirked. “Taste so sweet, Angel.” He spoke.

He pushed his two fingers into your mouth, groaning at the warmth of it. You suck on his fingers, tasting yourself on them as you swirled your tongue around. “Such a good, eager girl. So happy to taste yourself on my fingers.” Ghost whispered, pushing them down your throat so he could hear your gags.

Ghost pulled away, yanking his sweatpants and boxers down. His cock sprang out, revealing its large length. It hit his abdomen; the tip leaking with pre-cum. Your eyes looked down at him, eyes widening at the sight. “My God….” You whispered.

Ghost grabbed the base of his shaft, jerking himself off slightly before pulling you to the edge of the bench and wrapping one of your legs around his waist while propping the other one on his shoulder. “I need this pretty pussy wrapped around my cock, taking every inch of me.” Ghost growled. He rubbed his tip up and down your slick, coating it in it.

“Tell me how much you want this, Lovie. How bad do you want me to fuck you?” Ghost demanded; his eyes focused on you. You let out a whiny moan, looking up at him, “Please fuck me. I want your cock so bad.”

Ghost pushed into you, filling you up slowly but surely. Ghost groaned, sinking into you until he was fully inside you. “S’fucking tight. Gonna fuck this pretty cunt until it’s molded to only take my cock.” Ghost groaned, snapping his hips forward for a forceful thrust. A guttural moan fell from your mouth, as Ghost gripped your throat with both hands, pounding into you at a ruthless pace.

“M’been dreaming of this since the day I laid eyes on your fucking application picture.” Ghost muttered, “Such a pretty fucking girl. Batting your eyelashes at everyone.”

Ghost’s hands moved down to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Your moans were drowned out by the loud slapping of your skin. If it wasn’t for the way that Ghost was viciously railing you, you would be concerned that someone would walk past and hear you.

“Such a fucking whore. Getting fucked in your office…. you like being railed after work? Hmm?” Ghost hissed out as you clenched around him.

“You look s’pretty being full of my cock.” Ghost muttered, leaning down to kiss and nip your neck. You whined, feeling another knot form in your stomach. You clenched around Ghost, making him groan. “M’close…. s’close…” You spoke in between moans.

“Go ahead and make a mess on my cock, baby. Cum all over this cock like the slut you are.” Ghost demanded. It didn’t take long for your legs to shake and for Ghost’s cock to be drenched in your climax. He slowed his thrusts, pulling out of you. You whimpered at the lost feeling.

“Get up, Lovie. I want to cum all in that pretty mouth of yours.” Ghost said, pulling you off the bench and to your knees. You looked up at him as he pumped himself. Slapping his cock against your lips, you opened your mouth to let him slip in.

“S’fucking warm. Fucking made to take my dick in every fucking hole you have.” Ghost muttered, his hand snaking around the back of your head to shove his dick further down your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you tasted all your juices that drenched his cock. Saliva trailed down your chin as Ghost thrust in and out of your mouth at an unforgiving pace. “A fucking slut you are, taking my dick so well. Fuck.” Ghost groaned as his hip stuttered slightly. His cock twitched in your mouth before ropes of cum shot down your throat.

Your eyes screwed shut as Ghost stayed deep in your throat, making sure you swallowed all his cum. He pulled out, bending down to level as you looked up at him. “So, this was going through your mind all this time.” You spoke breathlessly.

“Shocked, Lovie?” Ghost smirked, lifting you back to your feet.

“A little.” You nodded. Ghost tilted your head back to press a rough but gentle kiss to your lips. “Well, I suggest you get used to it because there will be more of that.”

“So, you made your move, huh?” Soap grinned wickedly at Ghost, who sat further down the table. Ghost’s eyes shot to Soap’s as he narrowed them at the man.

“Don’t even try to deny it, LT.” Gaz said, his eyes staying trained on his phone. “All the talk around the base is how a certain skull mask-wearing lieutenant is attached to the hip of the pretty little nurse.”

“She must’ve really made you nervous if it took you almost three months to make a move on her.” Soap teased.

“I did more than make a move on her, Sergeant.” Ghost spoke, “That pretty little nurse is now my pretty little nurse.”

Ghost smirked underneath his mask as he looked between Gaz and Soap. “So, it would do you both good to watch your hands the next to you hug her. Would hate to have to break your fingers off for wandering too far for your own good.”

Without another word, Ghost sauntered out of the meeting room, leaving Soap and Gaz dumbfounded.

“Hm, I was wondering when that boy was going to make a move.” Price hummed from his spot, “All that begging to hire her to this base and took nearly four months to even talk to her.”

“Wait, what? Ghost knew about her before she even got to base?” Gaz asked.

“Ghost was the one who pulled her application.” Price said, “Said ‘his future girl’ had applied, and I needed to get her on base.”

Gaz and Soap looked at each other before sighing. Of course, Ghost knew you before you knew him.

Because it wouldn’t be Ghost if he didn’t.