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miueo · 5 months ago

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𐙚 my little idol ♥︎．。．:*･° chap ii ✿

ᰔᩚ ︶ྀི debut ; salty & sweet .

summary : you're currently in a new girl group underneath jyp entertainment ! your group is performing well on charts, you have a stable fanbase, and many bops to listen to! you try your best to avoid dating scandals for the sake of your reputation and status but it's all ruined by a very popular group of boys.

pairings : ot8!skz ♡ femidol!reader !

warnings : heavy on smut, sexualization & objectification, perversion, obsession, taboo / dark concepts (for some members, not all !) , mental physical / health issues (depression, anxiety, etc.), coercion, unsolicited pictures, more to be announced.

notes : i am having so much fun writing this and creating ideas for this. you have no fucking idea.

taglist : @p0eticjust1c3 @yunjinswifee @sky00ung @pinkdranks @bloominhos @mi-mi-mu @nasiaisan @kitkat1sstuff @hyunjinhoexxx @theinsanebish

selected song for fic : chapter playlist ✿ !!

the day of 4ura’s debut had finally arrived, a culmination of years of hard work, dreams, and relentless dedication. the air buzzed with excitement as fans gathered, eagerly anticipating the first glimpse of jyp entertainment’s newest girl group. their debut album, “feel,” promised a unique blend of songs that showcased their diverse talents, with the title track “salty & sweet” leading the charge.

the album, a carefully curated collection, included tracks like “nobody knows”, “underwater”, “diorama”, “colouring”, “candy crush”, “bamboleo”, “rewind”, and “perfect 10”. each song was chosen to highlight the group’s vocal prowess, dynamic choreography, and unique charm.

❁

as the lights dimmed and the intro to “salty & sweet” began, y/n, olivia, minjeong, and autumn took their places on stage. the music pulsed through the speakers, and the girls moved with a synchronicity that spoke of countless hours spent perfecting their performance. y/n’s voice soared, carrying the emotional weight of the song, while olivia’s electrifying dance moves captivated the audience. minjeong’s presence was mesmerizing, her visual appeal enhancing the performance, and autumn’s powerful rap delivery added an edge that completed the group’s dynamic sound.

throughout the performance, the emotions were palpable. y/n’s eyes shone with determination and a touch of nervous excitement, while olivia’s energy was infectious, drawing the audience into the performance. minjeong’s grace and confidence radiated, and autumn’s intensity underscored the group’s commitment to making a lasting impression.

as the final notes of “salty & sweet” echoed in the venue, the audience erupted into applause. the girls exchanged relieved and elated glances, the weight of their debut moment lifting as they soaked in the adoration of their new fans. backstage, the atmosphere was electric with celebration and a sense of accomplishment.

❁

while they were catching their breath and reveling in the afterglow of their successful debut, they ran into the members of stray kids. bang chan, the leader of stray kids, approached y/n with a warm smile.

“hey, y/n!! you guys did fucking insane. this is probably one of the best debut stages of our generation..” bang chan said, his voice full of genuine admiration.

y/n, still slightly breathless, smiled back as her cheeks heated up slightly. “thank you so much, chan! it means a lot coming from you.”

bang chan nodded, his eyes reflecting his sincerity. “you all really brought the energy and emotion to the stage. i could tell how much heart you put into it.”

y/n felt a surge of pride and gratitude. “we really wanted to make a strong impression. it’s been a long journey to get here.”

bang chan chuckled. “trust me, i know the feeling. but you guys nailed it. welcome to the family, 4ura.”

with that, the stray kids members offered their congratulations and words of encouragement, further solidifying the camaraderie within the jyp family. as y/n and her groupmates basked in the support of their peers, they knew this was just the beginning of an incredible journey. with their debut performance behind them and the world at their feet, 4ura was ready to take on the k-pop world, one stage at a time.

as the initial excitement of their debut began to settle, y/n found herself lingering on bang chan’s words of encouragement. she had always admired stray kids for their relentless work ethic, musical versatility, and the genuine camaraderie they shared both on and off stage. bang chan, in particular, stood out to her as a figure of leadership and creativity, someone she deeply respected.

as the group continued mingling with the stray kids members, y/n couldn’t help but feel a growing desire to get to know them better. she admired their ability to stay grounded despite their success and often looked to them as role models during her trainee days. now, standing in the same room, she felt an opportunity to bridge the gap between admiration and friendship.

gathering her courage, y/n approached bang chan once more. “chan, i wanted to say again how much your support means to me and the group. i’ve been a huge fan of stray kids since my trainee days. your music and the way you lead the group… it’s really inspiring.”

bang chan smiled, clearly touched by her words. “thank you, y/n. that means a lot. we all started somewhere, and seeing new groups like 4ura debut with such passion is a reminder of why we do what we do.”

feeling a surge of confidence, y/n took a deep breath and continued, “i was wondering, since we’re labelmates and all, if you’d be interested in hanging out sometime? maybe we could grab coffee or something in the building? i’d love to learn more about your experiences and get to know you and the other members better.”

bang chan’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “that sounds great! i’m sure the other guys would love to join too. we could definitely use a break and some good company. how about tomorrow afternoon? there’s a great café in the building that we often hang out at.”

y/n’s heart raced with excitement and relief. “tomorrow afternoon sounds perfect. I’ll let the girls know too. thanks, chan!”

as they wrapped up their conversation, y/n felt a renewed sense of anticipation. the chance to bond with bang chan and the other stray kids members was an unexpected but welcome opportunity. she hoped that these small moments of connection would pave the way for lasting friendships within the jyp family.

with a successful debut and the promise of new friendships on the horizon, y/n felt ready to take on whatever challenges and adventures lay ahead. the support and camaraderie within jyp entertainment were already proving to be invaluable, and she looked forward to growing not just as an artist, but as part of a larger, supportive community.

❁

the next afternoon, the jyp building buzzed with its usual energy, but for y/n, the anticipation of meeting stray kids for coffee added an extra layer of excitement. as she and her groupmates, olivia, minjeong, and autumn, made their way to the café, they chatted about the debut and the positive feedback they had received.

when they arrived, they saw bang chan and a few stray kids members already seated, waving them over with welcoming smiles. y/n’s heart skipped a beat as she spotted chan, his easygoing demeanor putting her at ease.

“hey, guys!” chan greeted them warmly. “glad you could make it. these are han, felix, and changbin.”

after exchanging introductions and settling into their seats, the conversation flowed naturally. they discussed everything from their training days to favorite foods, laughing and sharing stories. as the afternoon progressed, y/n found herself drawn to chan’s infectious energy and genuine interest in their debut experience.

at one point, as the others were engaged in a lively discussion about dance routines, chan turned to y/n. “so, y/n, how are you feeling after the debut? must be quite a whirlwind, huh?”

y/n nodded, her eyes sparkling. “it’s been amazing, but also overwhelming. there’s so much to take in. but having supportive colleagues like you makes it all feel a bit easier.”

chan’s gaze softened. “i’m glad to hear that. You did an incredible job. your vocals were just… wow.”

y/n felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. “thank you, chan. that means a lot coming from you.”

chan leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “you know, i was really impressed with how you handled the stage. it’s not easy to command an audience like that on your first try.”

their eyes locked, and y/n felt a flutter in her stomach. “thanks, chan. i’ve always looked up to you and the guys. your performances are always so captivating.”

a mischievous glint appeared in chan’s eyes. “well, if you ever want some tips or just hang out more, you’re always welcome to drop by my studio. in fact, i was planning to work on some new music later tonight. want to join me?”

y/n’s heart raced at the invitation. “i’d love that. what time?”

chan smiled, a hint of playfulness in his expression. “how about 9 pm? i’ll be there. we can grab some snacks and see where the night takes us.”

“sounds perfect,” y/n replied, her voice steady despite the excitement bubbling within her.

the rest of the coffee meet-up continued with lighthearted banter and shared laughter, but y/n’s thoughts kept drifting to the upcoming studio session. as they parted ways, chan gave her a quick, reassuring wink, solidifying the connection they had made.

❁

later that night, y/n arrived at the studio at 9 PM sharp. the building was quieter now, the usual hustle and bustle replaced by a serene stillness. she knocked softly on the studio door, and it opened to reveal chan, who greeted her with a warm smile.

“hey, y/n. come on in,” he said, stepping aside to let her enter. the studio was cozy, filled with various instruments, sound equipment, and a few personal touches that made it uniquely Chan’s space.

“wow, this place is amazing,” y/n said, looking around in awe.

“thanks,” Chan replied, his eyes crinkling with his smile. “it’s my little creative haven. make yourself comfortable.”

they settled in, and chan began showing y/n some of the tracks he was working on. as they chatted about music and life, the atmosphere grew more relaxed and intimate.

“you know, i’ve always wanted to collaborate with someone as talented as you,” chan said, his tone sincere.

y/n felt a warmth spread through her. “that means a lot, chan. i’ve always admired your work. this feels like a dream.”

“well, let’s make it a reality,” chan replied, his eyes twinkling. “how about we start with some melodies and see where it takes us?”

they spent the next few hours lost in music, their creative energies blending seamlessly. between takes and discussions, their conversations grew more personal, filled with laughter and shared stories.

❁

as the night deepened, the cozy ambiance of chan’s studio, coupled with the soothing melodies they were creating, began to take its toll on y/n. she stifled a yawn, trying to stay focused on the lyrics they were working on. chan noticed and chuckled softly.

“feeling tired?” he asked gently, his voice a comforting murmur.

y/n shook her head slightly, trying to shake off the drowsiness. “a little. it’s been a long day, but i don’t want to stop just yet.”

chan smiled, appreciating her determination. “how about we take a short break? i can make us some coffee.”

“that sounds great,” y/n replied, grateful for the suggestion.

as chan moved to the small kitchenette in the corner of the studio, y/n leaned back on the plush couch, closing her eyes for just a moment. the soft hum of the equipment and the faint melodies still playing lulled her into a state of relaxation.

by the time chan returned with two steaming mugs of coffee, he found y/n fast asleep, her head resting against the back of the couch, her breathing steady and peaceful. he set the mugs down quietly, a soft smile spreading across his face as he watched her.

“guess you really were tired,” he whispered to himself, not wanting to wake her.

❁

in the darkness of the space, y/n fluttered her eyes open, the clock saying 4 am. still feeling drowsy and exhausted from being constantly occupied with her group’s debut, she looked over at chan’s sleeping body and a sudden flare of lust gleamed in her large seraphic eyes.

quietly, y/n slinked at the foot of the couch, biting her bottom lip while pulling down chan’s pants and trunks altogether. the mere view made the y/n’s mouth water as her body shook in anticipation.

with quivering lips, y/n started licking and coating the chan’s length with her saliva, getting themselves excited as well. her eyes peered up as they carefully engulfed chan’s hardening member and started to bob their head slowly.

feeling already wet, y/n started to touch herself, emitting some feeble moans against the shaft. soon out of breath and yearning for something more, y/n panted as quietly as possible with their head resting on chan’s thigh.

“who told you to stop?” y/n, the girl who froze like a deer in headlights and then looked up at chan’s smirking face. “you wanted to ride my cock like a slut, didn't you. you couldn't even wait for me to wake up, huh. or maybe you find my sleeping face hot?”

gulping at chan’s harsh, husky voice, y/n then started licking the tip of the throbbing length. a yelp escaped their lips when the dom suddenly pushed their head down till the shaft reached the back of their throat. “now you finish what you started.”

y/n gagged softly around chan’s cock, pulling away swiftly before stroking his length up and down with her delicate hands.

“ugh.. i need you in me so bad!!” y/n cried out as she got back up, sitting herself down on his lap before pulling her skirt up, moving her cotton white panties aside exposing her soaked cunt.

chan chuckles maliciously, grabbing his phone and hitting the record button on his phone.

“show the people how much of a fucking slut you are. your fans could never imagine how much of a whore you are for attention like this..” he breathes out behind the camera.

y/n slowly sat herself down on his cock. he had the perfect amount of girth and length, it felt so delicious in her little tummy.

chan grabs her body and slams her back against the leather couch, he kept his phone in his hand as he thrusts into her slippery cunt at an animalistic pace.

a little y/n, fucked dumb laid beneath her senior almost like a doll. high pitched screams and whimpers escaped her mouth as she arched her back against the couch; and seeing them as such was pure achievement for chan.

their hips slammed forward consistently, rough thrusts unstopping despite y/n’s state — in fact, the very view only encouraged chan to treat them more belligerently.

chan watched how the female idol’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, almost as if she was lifeless. she was in euphoria. she had been dreaming about this moment.

it was utter entertainment for chan knowing his admirer was too immersed in their pleasure and too dumb to talk back, taking the very opportunity to spit on them and degrade them while filming every moment.

“i can’t wait to see what more you have in that little pretty mind of yours, my little idol.”

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genderkoolaid · 9 months ago

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Do you mind giving a list of the transmasc artists in that sp*tify playlist, I wanna listen to transmasc artists but I hate sp*tify soooooo much

Sure! I wouldn't use spotify if I didn't have a cracked version of premium, it truly is fucking awful lmao.

I'm adding specific songs of theirs I like because I know other people also find it easier to get into an artist if they are recc'd a specific song. Also the artist bandcamp when applicable:

Dreamer Isioma / Sunset Drive + Dumb In Love With You

Tobre / FTMLOVE

Joe Stevens / Daughterson

Anjimile / Baby No More + Animal

Jake Edwards / Holy

saint hills / Lavender

Athens Boy Choir / Fagette + Tranny Got Pack

Malaika Mfalme / Good Man

Art Project / Gender Nightmare + Enemy Estrogen + Pretty boy

Miles McKenna / Boys Will Be Boys

Schmekel (and all the jewish tboys cheer) / FTM at the DMV

Skylar Kergil / Brothers

First Ever Boys / Guts + Friends Who Kiss

Mavi Phoenix / Aventura

Ryan Cassata / boy on boy

Beverly Glenn-Copeland / La Vita + People Of The Loon + Africa Calling (love his music so much. it makes me feel the same way bell hooks writing does)

Zann Foth / Hindsight Cinema

Dazey and the Scouts / Sweet Cis Teen

Saint Wellesley / Captain, Oh Captain!

Freddie Lewis / Best Dressed Ex + Bell Jar

Mal Blum / Things Still Left to Say

Dump Him / Pretty Like a Boy

Ezra Michel / I'm a Faggot I'm a Dyke

Jay Page / Invincible + Am I Here

The Oozes / Bitchboy + Ultrasound (consider donating to one of the band member's top surgery fund as well!)

Grumpster (ty anon for reccing them!) / Roots + Growing Pains

#m.#ask box #transmasc art

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kissoulie · 3 months ago

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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒

𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧

— NSFW, MDNI. being in love with jongseob ♡

warnings: idol!seob, fem terms (princess, good girl), not proofread, i finally use y/n 💔 i caved at the texting bit

nsfw: fem-bodied reader, very mild daddy kink, degrading (whore, slut), exhibitionism (with verbal participation), some grinding, lmk if i missed anything

a/n: jongseob u will always be my first love 😭😭😭 idk how happy i am w this but i wrote it while listening to my playlist of songs that are so Jongseob, so there is clearly some Influence here i hope u all enjoy the appetizer, entree, & dessert 🫶 dedicated to @kisseobie rosa u are my inspiration

1. encounters

jongseob is the type of person who can get along with anyone. he'll find a topic, and he'll engage. it's like a routine to him. but with you, he was genuinely so, so excited to talk to you. maybe it was a little creepy he'd peered over your shoulder, but he immediately recognized the orange from plastic beach, and wanted to know which song you were listening to.

"that's a good one, do you listen to a lot of gorillaz?" he smiles at you, watching your expression go from taken aback to relaxed. "yeah, they're one of my top artists every month."

"kim jongseob, nice to meet you." you smile back at him, and jongseob suddenly believes in love at first sight. his stop is soon. "what's your favorite song by them?"

"definitely rhinestone eyes. i know it's super popular, but it's for good reason." your gums show when you smile, your body fully turning towards him so you can offer him one of your earbuds. "what other kind of music do you listen to?"

jongseob misses his stop. he gets lost in your proximity, swapping recommendations and adding each other on spotify. you two have been chatting for what feels like forever. he never wants this moment to end, "oh, this is my stop.."

the disappointment in your voice breaks his heart just a tad. you frown at him, bumping his head with yours on accident, "i was going to listen to it with you, but i really think you'll enjoy afraid by the neighborhood. and here's my number, i wanna know if you like it or not."

jongseob doesn't just like it, he loves it. he lives it, too. he doesn't have the courage to text you that same night, but the next morning, he adds your number to his contacts.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

hey, it's jongseob, i loved afraid it rly captured how i feel sometimes lol. text me when u get the chance, i wanna see u again

jongseob types and deletes that last part many times before ultimately deciding he should be honest with you.

y/n

morning jongseob! you're up super early haha i would love to see you after work today :) <3

2. enamored

jongseob falls fast, but you fall harder. he's aware he has many faults and flaws, and he works hard to be the best he can be for you. he is the type of boyfriend to make you many playlists, for every difference occasion. he's a date saver. he will celebrate one month, two months, three months... every month. he loves you. where soul's love is subtle, calming, and attentive; jongseob's love is energetic, warming, intense.

jongseob's love is an inferno. he assimilates you into his life seamlessly. the first step is introducing you to the rest of piwon, which goes well considering he talks about you all the time. then he's inviting you to shows, his studio, dance practice (which the members love since you always bring them snacks), rehearsals. he even wants to bring you on tour with him. he knows he can't, but he wants to share his life with you. all of it.

he sends you sooooooo many pics while he's on tour. pictures of where he is, what he's seeing, him. he misses you so much while he's away, he's calling you as often as he can.

he definitely sleeps on call with you while he's gone. and begs keeho to let you sleep over when he gets back. it's not like you'll be able to do anything with soul in the room... but, you know, bribary works in mysterious ways.

3. erotic

jongseob was never above bribing soul to leave for a while so you two could be alone. it's not like he's a kid anymore, but with you not living alone, between the two places the dorm was the better one.

over the course of their tour, you've both been teasing each other like crazy. you, sending him pictures of you in his tshirts, your body, texting him late at night.

y/n

seob i can't wait until you're home :( i'm desperate to have you inside me

seobie 🤍

baby i'm about to go on. you can't be making me hard like this

y/n

it's not like you're here to punish me though :(

[attachment]

seobie 🤍

god i'm gonna fuck you so good when i get back

y/n

but i need you now daddy

seobie

2 more weeks baby, i'll be home before you know it ❤️

he was indeed home before you knew it. by then you were so desperate for him, you jumped him the moment he closed the door to his shared room. you let him pull you onto the bed with him, whining into his mouth the whole way. "patience, baby, sho's still here."

"i don't care! i need you," you started kissing down his neck as an incentive, knowing he could never resist once your hands pressed against his abs. "besides, it's nothing he hasn't seen before."

ah, yes, shota's only incentive to not rat you out to keeho and get you kicked from the dorms: sometimes he gets to watch (and sometimes he gets to join).

jongseob sighs as you slide up onto his stomach, grinding yourself against him desperately. "let's get these shorts off you first, princess."

he pushes you up by your thighs, taking off your shorts and panties in one go. "alright, baby, set yourself back down."

you push his tank top up. god, how that drove you crazy. he squeezes your hips in reassurance while he slowly slides you across his abs. "fuck, seob-"

your moan is caught with a breathy sigh. relief washes over the both of you, "that's it, pretty girl, ride me. get yourself nice and wet."

the rasp in his voice soaks you even more. you start grinding on your own, picking up the pace. he flexes, and you tense, "so close, fuck"

jongseob stops you with a hand on your thigh, getting out of his own shorts, and pulling his tank top over his head. "think you can take me without prep?"

you nod, pulling your own shirt off. he carefully lines himself up, then sets you down. the moment he slips in is pure bliss for you, "such a good girl for me."

"seems like she's a desperate little whore for you, actually." you whine hearing shota's voice, involuntarily clenching around seob at the degrading words.

"you don't know what you're talking about, sho. she feels heavenly." jongseob nuzzles into your neck, hands pawing at you desperately.

sex with jongseob is oftentimes desperate. he gets pussydrunk very easily. he'll spend hours between your thighs, eating you out with purpose, until his dick is so hard it hurts, and he can't wait another moment to be inside you.

he'll make you beg for it. not for long, but just enough for you to get teary eyed. he has a small thing for you crying for him. he was already a bit of a perv before he met you, but ever since you first had sex he's been... corrupted, almost.

taglist: @tkooooop, @haolovre ♡

#p1harmony smut #p1harmony x reader #jongseob smut #jongseob x reader

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angelsdxmise · 4 months ago

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METANOIA

Pt. 2 to ORPHIC

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 when Bakugou is paired with a girl that’s not spared a glance for a project, he wants to explode. Why does his mind keep going blank when he looks at you then?

Contains: tiny bit of angst, readers a little hopeless, imagine the rest urself, there might be profanity idk i dont remember

a/n: 2.7k words 😔 plz consider reblogging and sending requests! btw pls remember italics mean reader is thinking. enjoy the fic ❤️

Your dorm room matched your personality somehow, and then again, it didn’t.

It had posters, a TV, and a bookshelf filled with figures from your favorite mangas, decorative sculptures everywhere, and classic LEDs. Your room seemed to also have a main color, which was black. Though it managed to maintain some color.

Thank the gods you had cleaned your room when you finished eating, because if you hadn’t it would’ve been very much flammable. You usually wouldn’t be worried about it, but since someone who has quite a destructive quirk turned up to your dorm demanding to be let in, you felt relieved.

A low, calming rhythm played on your speaker as you reviewed your slides. An herbal incense flooded your senses as you relaxed. You were so calm that you almost forgot Bakugou was next to you.

“Hey, I think you forgot to add my quirk’s drawbacks.” You flatly spoke. You never looked away from your laptop as your brows furrowed in utter concentration. You moved your hair out your face, slightly fanning yourself as you breathed out short huffs. You closed your balcony doors and turned your fan off to have your incense earlier, which you may have regretted.

Bakugou held back a long groan as he added another slide. “Tell me what they are.” He grumbled in a stale tone. He wanted to plug his nose and ears since he wasn’t used to such a strong smell. While you explained your quirk drawbacks and the reason for them, he cut you off in the middle of the sentence to ask,

“Is that a Rob Zombie poster?”

Your head perked up in acknowledgment as you lost focus due to your zeal. Does he like Rob Zombie? Am I dreaming right now? “Uh, yeah.. do you--do you not like him?” You stammered out. A pang of shame ran through you, he was just a boy with a bad temper. There’s no point in being so scared.

“Why else would I be asking about it?!” He yelled, which put a beaming smile on your face. “Sorry! You don’t—I mean, you just surprised me!” You quickly explained, “I can play some of his songs, or you could just put your own playlist on my speaker.”

You took his phone and connected it to the speaker which temporarily paused your music, and handed it back to him which he aggressively snatched. Once he finally picked a playlist after scrolling endlessly, you actually ended up having similar music tastes. “I never took you for someone who liked a lot of rock bands, but for some reason, I’m not that surprised.” You played with the bracelets on your wrists as you admitted the last part of your sentence.

Bakugou took note of this and took his fingers off his keyboard. “You’ve learned something new then.” He shut his laptop and put his study supplies in the bag. Your voice made him pause for a moment. “Could you uh, send me the playlist? You don’t have to, I just like your taste.”

He set his bag down and looked at you. “Give me your phone number.” He abruptly said, taking you off guard. “Huh?!”

“I need your number to send the link, dumbass!” He snatched your phone out of your hands and made a new contact of himself. He didn’t even bother giving it a name. He kept muttering words you couldn’t make out, so you felt a little scared. When he stood, you quickly called out a thank you which he acknowledged with a small wave before closing your door.

At the sound of your door closing, you just sat there processing what happened. A smile didn’t leave your face and you didn’t feel any shame to force it to go away. Days like this were unusual for someone like you. Being on good terms with the most hot-headed student at UA. It’s best to say you had a peaceful sleep that night.

For once you had hope for your school life. Maybe you could save your social life a little. But, of course, your desires seem impossible to reach once you return to class.

Your head rested against your desk as one of your hands reached down to pull your tights down, then came back up to cover your ear. It seems today was a cheerful day for the others as you overheard many of them talking about how their project would get full scores for how lucky they were with their partners.

Then, there were the booming voices of annoying teenage boys. Especially Mineta. You felt like you should start wearing pants to school in fear of him crawling under your desk and violating you in every way possible. Is this what Hell is like? Am I in the deepest circle?

Thankfully the class had quieted down immediately when Aizawa burst through the Class 1-A doors that were ginormous for some apparent reason. His voice made your head lift up in a stalled manner, as you felt sluggish today. You had been skipping on your nightly skincare, so your eyebags were still a little noticeable.

You set your head in your palm as you wrote what you could manage, but ended up dozing off near the last hours. Even with a good sleep, you still managed to be exhausted. It’s difficult to live.

You and your mom had left your dad and moved to Musutafu. You had to take what you could get when you got accepted into U.A. Honestly, you felt envious of people such as Yaoyorozu and Aoyama. You never really bought from designer brands when times were rough, and your mother had to alternate jobs.

As school ends and you’re on your way back to the dorms, you decide to take a quick walk down to any convenience store you can find. You held onto the strap of your backpack as you walked into the closest one, your eyes scanning for some bento sets.

Once your eyes had landed on them, you selected one and made sure you had enough money to spare after purchasing it. Usually, the cashier for this store was shitty and had an attitude for no reason. But of course, you didn’t know his life so you tried to not judge.

Confusion took hold of your senses as you didn’t see any cashier there. Oh well. You placed half the amount the bento costs on the counter, not necessarily stealing it, but giving what you felt he deserved. You put the rest of your money in your backpack’s side pocket as you made your way back to your dorm.

A long walk is an understatement. It felt like 10 years was what it took to walk up that hill, wiping your forehead constantly as short huffs came from your throat. You opened the door to the dorms and darted straight for the elevator. The cool air made you relax for a moment before a beep came, and your feet dragged you out.

You woke up as your eyes spotted a small pouch sitting in front of your door. What’s this?.. you mused for a minute before picking it up and opening the door, a sudden warmth hitting your skin as you reached for your fan. You shut the door behind you as you hurriedly sat on your bed to open it up.

You reached for a small note that was inside which read, “I don’t know how you handle that herbal shit, use this.” Oh, it came from Bakugou. Your hands found another item, a cylinder-shaped object that made your eyes brighten in excitement as you quickly pulled it out.

He got me incense! An expensive one at that, no way! You flipped the incense packaging around, which read ‘Kitowa’.

You stood to turn your fan off and went to your nightstand to replace your current incense with the gifted one. Once your lighter’s flame had hit the tip of the incense stick, a light woody smell filled your room which made your body slump and release a huge breath you didn’t know you were holding.

I should send him a thanks, it’s the least I could do. You reached over for your phone and opened his contact. You quickly typed out a ‘thank you for the incense Bakugou! It smells really nice.’ and stared at your message for a moment. You were pondering over your own message, and also making the realization that you were nervous.

You were genuinely nervous and giddy at the same time to send this text. You got over it anyway and made haste to throw your phone across the bed before kicking your shoes off and face-planting into your pillow. You didn’t make an effort to change as you succumbed to the exhaustion.

A loud knock woke you up, your eyes didn’t open as you sat up, trying to process what was going on. Another loud knock sounds and your eyes shoot open. What the hell? “Coming!” you groan out as you stand from your bed. Stumbling over your shoes and bag you reach your door, opening the handle. You’re met with the face of Bakugou. Okay, I’m definitely awake now..

“Change your clothes. There’s dinner downstairs and you haven’t come down at all.” His jagged voice interrupted your thoughts. “Wait—whaaa?..” You muttered, rubbing your eyes. “Hurry up.” He grabs the handle and closes your door.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have the fattest grin on your face after he closed your door. You dug through your clothes, throwing on a pair of black sweatpants and a misfits band shirt. You grabbed your phone and stopped for a moment as you looked at the notification.

***: it's no problem 4:03 P.M.

***: where the hell are you? dinners been ready for 10 minutes come down 6:47 P.M.

He ended up coming to your dorm 5 minutes after he sent the last message. You put some socks on before opening your door up again, and you tried to swallow down the lump in your throat as you saw Bakugou with his back leaning against the wall, with his arms crossed.

His signature frown was still plastered across his face as his eyes set on you. “Move your feet faster, extra.” He rasped out, already heading for the elevator, you quickly followed behind and attempted to make an effort to hide the shock on your face.

He somewhat punched the common room button, and you flinched when he did.

He pressed the button to close the doors more gently.

The ride down was a bit awkward, but you found comfort in the silence. Once the doors had opened, you walked out behind him. He grabbed your wrist suddenly and leisurely pulled you to his side as he kept walking, never letting go until you made it to the kitchen.

A few classmates noticed and pointed it out to the rest, as you lightly scratched the back of your neck in embarrassment. I guess I’d be staring too if I saw someone with such a bad temper hanging around me. you thought as you grabbed a bowl. “Get me one too.” Bakugou insisted, and you stopped for a second. Reaching your other hand up, you said, “You haven’t eaten yet?” as you grabbed the second bowl and set it down.

“I’m just grabbing seconds,” He began to fill his bowl as he glanced at you. “Everyone’s already eaten. The losers are gonna do a movie night.” Your eyes lost their light at the sound of that. Of course, nobody told you. You drowned in your own dismal as you filled up your bowl with food. The smell made you feel slightly better, but it was nowhere near happy.

Once you were done, you turned to Bakugou. “Thanks for bringing me down, I’m just gonna head back upstairs.” You spoke in a brittle voice, and before you could reach the elevator you heard his footsteps coming from behind you. You could tell he made an effort to catch up.

He didn’t turn his eyes to you or offer an explanation after he pressed his floor's button, and didn’t allow you to go to yours. You frowned, “What’re you doing?” He finally looks at you. “Back to my dorm.”

whaa.. HUH?

“Wait—what?” You couldn’t process his sudden words as he took your wrist once more in his free hand, dragging you along with him to his dorm. He opened his door and ushered you to the bed before closing it.

You reluctantly sat down, as it was the second and only time you’d been in his dorm for any purpose other than school. He sighed as he sat down with his back against the bed frame, and pulled his laptop out from his bag.

“If you don’t sit next to me, you’re not gonna be able to watch the movie, you idiot.” His words made your ears blaze with heat and you carefully scooted next to him, making sure not to spill any food. “Got anything you wanna watch?” He asked as he took a bite of the hotpot.

“Hmm.,” Your eyes drifted to the side as you thought, “What about The Florida Project?” You suggested, “It’s not on Netflix, we’d probably have to find a random website to watch it.”

He smiled faintly, he’s seen that before and so have you. “I’m fine with that.” His tone was softer as he clicked away to find a website to watch the movie. As he pressed play you scooted a tiny bit closer to watch it.

Midway through the movie you both finished your bowls and made slight comments on every scene, and he evilly laughed at most of the sad scenes while you scolded him for it.

As the movie reached the end, you had been leaning against him with your head on his shoulder. He had one hand behind his head and the other resting against his thigh. You nearly cried.

As the movie finished, you fell asleep against him. He abandoned the movie a while ago, but not on purpose. He took a little time to think about you since you’d been running around his mind without consent anyway.

Not only were you pretty, but your personality seemed to be a calming point for him. You, yourself, seemed to tell him to chill. You liked similar things, and you introduced him to incense which he secretly had on his shelf, above his bed. He had also ended up putting in orders for a few new posters after seeing your room.

He took the chance of your sleeping state to quietly shut off his laptop and hesitantly reached his hand around your body to rest it on your hip. He rested his head against yours as he rubbed small circles on your skin.

You shifted a little and his heart jumped, not wanting you to think he was some sort of pervert. Bakugou was slightly sure that his classmates were asleep, so he decided to carry you back to your dorm.

You awoke the next morning in your bed, sluggishly rising up and stretching as your joints popped. 4:32 read the time, and you definitely couldn’t go back to sleep now. You decided to take the extra time and get ready for school.

You smoothed out your skirt as you took your seat, and this time you didn’t rest your head in your palm. You felt like you finally rested your body. Your eyes darted up as you heard a thud in front of you. It was.. Bakugou?

He crashed into the seat in front of you, putting his elbows on your desk and turning his body to you. “Let’s uh.. study at that new cafe that opened up.” He looked away as he huffed the words out, suddenly interested in the outside world.

Is he asking me on a date or something? “Oh.. I mean,” His heart dropped and his brows furrowed as you started to talk. He had doubts about you saying no, and it seemed they were coming true.

“Sure.. I was gonna ask you, actually.” You giggled, setting your hands on the desk as you tapped your nail occasionally against it. He turned back to you, and he had a genuine smile plastered across his face as he didn’t leave this time immediately. He stayed, and he talked with you.

And he would do it many, many more times.

pls do not post anywhere w/out permission

#finally omg #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #angelicfics

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turtletaubwrites · 6 months ago

Text

Numbers Game ~ Part 17

Let Me Help You With That

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 3930

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: Crocodile isn't happy with your charming guest, and you might agree.

Author's Note: I am WAAYYY too excited for y'all to read this one 😭

Alternate POV Symbols:

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author has Chosen to Exclude some Smut Warnings for this Chapter to Avoid Spoilers, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Degradation, Hair-Pulling, Rough Oral Sex, Comeplay, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~

“I don’t like this.”

“Really,” Mihawk teased, pouring Crocodile a glass of scotch before topping off his wine. “ You hide it so well.”

“Fuck off,” Crocodile grumbled, more annoyance than anger coating his rough voice. He continued pacing after accepting the scotch, taking too large a sip, too quickly. He hissed lightly at the burn, then sent those silver eyes to tear into the man hanging his fancy coat on its fancy hanger. “Tell me what they’re doing.”

The swordsman smirked, touching his arm to guide him to one of the loveseats.

The loveseat that was against the connecting wall to the middle suite.

“They already went in there,” Crocodile huffed, taking up a large space on the small sofa.

“You didn’t hear the doors? You really are bothered, aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m fucking bothered,” he snapped, although his voice was a bit hushed so close to that wall. “You invited some freak to come fuck our girl, and our– and you didn’t think to tell me? I don’t care if he’s your ex, he’s a fucking Emperor. This is not a good time for variables. Or do you not care about our plans?”

Mihawk was still standing, his head cocked after the slew of words that had just left the typically stoic man’s lips. Crocodile’s jaw clenched tighter with each passing moment of silence, until confusion took over his features, his lips parting as Mihawk sat down beside him.

Tapping his ear, Mihawk shifted in his seat, facing Crocodile as he tilted his ear toward the wall. This left the golden eyed man with nowhere to place his long legs except for across the larger man’s lap, leaning back against the cushioned armrest as he met his gaze.

“I apologize for not telling you about Shanks,” Mihawk began, taking a large swig of wine while Crocodile processed his words, and the weight Mihawk had so casually stretched over his lap. Silver eyes narrowed, searching for lies on the swordsman's face as he continued his apology. “You’re right. We’re partners, and I shouldn’t have let my personal feelings keep me from respecting our professional arrangement. It won’t happen again.”

“Didn’t know you were capable of apologies, Hawk Eyes,” Crocodile sighed after a long pause. He downed his glass, which the other man grabbed to set down for him, as those long, leather clad legs were still restricting his movement.

“I am capable of many things that you aren’t aware of,” he replied, just a hint of that teasing edge in his words.

“Just tell me what they’re saying,” Crocodile groaned, rubbing his palm over his face. “If he hurts her, your apology is fucking null.”

Mihawk laughed as he extricated himself from the sofa, fetching the bottles of scotch and wine before resuming his position. He looked as pleased as a cat with cream as he stretched across Crocodile’s lap again, body going loose before he started to share what their girl was up to.

“Don’t worry, Crocodile. Our little rabbit is far more interested in our clown than touching the handsome stranger. In fact, she’s giving him a rather hard time.”

He chuckled at that, his eyes looking up a bit as he focused on the laughter in the other room.

“What do you mean,” grumbled the scarred man, frowning deeper than usual as he waited for more.

“Well, Y/N insulted Shanks’… manhood for one thing,” Mihawk laughed as Crocodile choked on his liquor, trying to speak through his coughs until Mihawk took pity on him. “Don’t worry, it was just a joke. They seem to be having a lighthearted time in there.”

“How does your ex handle being the butt of jokes?”

“He’s not my ex, you know,” Mihawk insisted, stretching his neck before elaborating. “He was a rival. Then a friend. Then a close friend.”

“Do you consider all your close friends to be ‘phenomenal fucks?”

Golden eyes widened, showing a hint of shock, even a surprised lift to the corner of his lips before he shook his head with a laugh. Crocodile flexed his jaw before taking another burning sip, looking away from that pleased face.

“I can’t imagine you have many close friends either, sandman, and it’s not easy to find lovers worthy of respect out on the seas,” Mihawk started, his teasing voice turning sharper as he went on. “What about you, Crocodile? Do you have any long lost loves out there somewhere? Did you keep a little harem of sweet girls when you had your hook in that kingdom? Maybe there’s even a few baby crocs crawling around some–”

“Enough.”

Blood and scotch mixed in Crocodile’s palm, most of the shards of glass still held or embedded in his hand after he’d crushed it. Mihawk’s eyes looked even less human than usual, assessing the other man like a predator deciding whether to leave this catch alone or not.

“Let me help you with that,” Mihawk rasped, slowly reaching for that clenched fist. Crocodile nodded, the veins in his reddened neck starting to shrink. He followed the swordsman to the bathroom, the only sounds being his slowing breaths, Mihawk’s little hums, and the tapping sound of each piece of glass as they were carefully removed from his palm to fall into the bin.

“It’s not bad,” Mihawk noted after cleaning and wrapping the collection of small wounds. “I’d hate to have to buy you another hook. This one looks rather expensive.”

Crocodile huffed a laugh, the tension in the room starting to ease while he sat against the marble counter. He let out a sigh, tilting his head toward the ceiling before diving back in.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, Shanks? I think he can take a joke better than you can,” Mihawk laughed, holding his hands up at Crocodile’s scathing look. “Sorry, sorry. No more jokes. Not tonight, anyway.”

“Just tell me what’s happening.”

Mihawk agreed, but led the scowling man out to the bedroom before frowning at the loveseat, mumbling about that “peaty stench.” Instead, they sat on the edge of the bed, Crocodile’s rough voice starting until Mihawk cut him off.

“Your sweet girl was brattier than I’ve ever heard her, and Shanks is handling her well.”

“Are you fu–”

“She’s having a lovely time,” he assured, smoothing his hand over a large thigh before Crocodile could get to his feet. “I wouldn’t let him hurt her any more than she wants. Besides, our clown is taking good care of her. Shanks is giving our pets a night to remember.”

“I don’t fucking trust him,” he growled, shaking his hand loose after clenching it around the bandages. He paused, waiting for Mihawk’s snarky reply, but they shared another long, empty moment.

Another moment that neither man used to bring up the elephant in the room.

“I should have told you,” Mihawk rasped as he stood, touching Crocodile’s shoulder as he moved to stand between those long legs. “In the spirit of honoring our professional agreement, why don’t I make it up to you?”

The air shifted, hot and thick, while Crocodile’s eyes narrowed yet again as he studied the man that was too close.

That he’d let get too close.

“How do you mean,” he asked, although the answer was clear in those golden eyes, a tiny gleam of fire building within them.

“Since it’s my fault that you’re without your sweet girl, or your only hand tonight,” Mihawk purred, taking his time running his fingers down Crocodile’s arms, “I believe I owe my business partner some assistance with relieving the stress I’ve caused. Don’t you?”

Crocodile wet his lips, eyes pouring down that wicked face, that bare chest, those ridiculously low, leather pants, to the hands that traveled back up his arms to his shoulders. He didn’t stop the swordsman when those arms wrapped around his neck.

The man was so close.

“What do you say, sandman?”

“Business partners,” Crocodile urged, unable to look away from the other man’s smirking lips.

“Of course,” Mihawk hummed as he leaned even closer. “I’m just helping out my business partner. Can’t have you so stressed before the big event. Let me take care of you.”

That offer, that request, was left as a tempting breath along Crocodile’s lips, and his silver eyes went dark before he closed that fraction of space. The kiss was almost angry, as if there was too much energy in their bodies, so they forced it into each other's hungry mouths. Soft grunts, little gasps, and heavy breaths filled the air as their tongues explored each other.

Mihawk’s lips managed a smirk, a laugh almost breaking through, until Crocodile’s bandaged hand forced him deeper into the kiss. Fingers twisting into soft black hair brought pretty noises from the swordsman’s throat, which only made those fingers tighter.

“Fuck,” Crocodile broke the kiss with a groan, pushing Mihawk back after the swordsman had pressed a leg against the hard length already growing in his dress slacks. Before either could say a word, Mihawk was on his knees, trailing hands along Crocodile's inner thighs, devilish satisfaction clear on his face.

“Take these–”

“Shut up,” Crocodile growled, cutting Mihawk off with the tip of that golden hook, pressing into his neck. “You wanna suck my cock so fucking bad, you don’t get to tell me what to do. You gonna ask nicely?”

Mihawk’s eyes went heavy, fluttering as the hook dug in, his mouth slack as he tried to look up at the man who had him.

“Please, Croc, take your pants off. Please, let me suck that perfect cock of yours.”

Mihawk gasped when Crocodile grabbed his jaw, hard, scraping the hook down his neck to his shoulder. Crocodile finally had his own pleased smile as he stared down at the twitching man in his grasp, those leather pants straining as Mihawk moaned from the pain.

“If you want this, you know what my fucking name is,” he taunted, leaning down to whisper in Mihawk’s ear as he kept dragging that sharp point down his skin. “What’s it gonna be, little bird? Still want what I can give you?”

“Yes,” Mihawk gasped before scraping his bottom lip through his teeth.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy,” Mihawk moaned, his eyes rolling white as the words left his lips.

“Good boy,” Crocodile purred, releasing him before standing up. He towered over the man on his knees, smirking down at the unexpected sight of Dracule Mihawk begging for his cock. “Now get to work.”

Mihawk gazed up at the man he’d just called, ‘daddy,’ and obeyed instantly, his mouth hanging open with need as he reached for Crocodile’s belt.

“Yours too,” the scarred man ordered after Mihawk helped him out of his clothes. Crocodile had started to undo his vest and shirt slowly, but Mihawk’s skilled fingers flew up to free him. Now Crocodile sat nude on the edge of the bed, watching as those leather pants were undone, and set aside so carefully that he laughed. “You’re so precious about your fucking clothes.”

“Of course, they’re one of a kind,” Mihawk huffed, frowning a bit before going to his knees again.

“I’ll make sure you get all the fancy clothes you like, swordsman. Want me to hunt down a personal tailor for you?”

Mihawk paused, cocking his head as his hands reached for the larger man's thighs. It was his turn to narrow his eyes, before laughing at the sincere look on that frightening face.

“I would never say no to such an offer, but I made those myself.”

He started to smooth his palms along Crocodile’s thighs, looking away from the face above, missing the grin that beamed down at him. Fingers dug into that black hair again, and he moaned softly as he was forced to meet Crocodile’s gaze.

“So, my scary little bird likes to garden, treats cats like fucking children, collects the prettiest toys, and even makes his own fancy clothes,” he teased, though his voice was filled with enough heat to keep Mihawk from retorting. “Do you want daddy to help his little prince build a new castle?”

Mihawk gasped softly, eyes still guarded as he melted into the rough touch.

“I like that song you hum when you’re happy,” Crocodile whispered, almost releasing Mihawk when he realized what he’d confessed, but he charged on, pretending it hadn’t happened. He brought his hook down along Mihawk's back, trying to distract him with pain that had the man’s cock twitching.

“You know I can give you what you want, don’t you?”

“I know you can, daddy,” Mihawk agreed, a bit of himself coming back as he let that tasty word float between them. “All I have to do is tell you what I want.”

Crocodile sat back, satisfaction warming his features as he flicked his eyes down.

“Show me how much you’ve been wanting to suck my cock, you twisted, little prince.”

A needy sound left Mihawk’s throat. He stared too long, etching that moment into his memory before giving in to that desire and demand.

Long fingers danced down his thighs, and Crocodile caught himself holding his breath as those shining eyes got closer. Mihawk let himself admire that cock the way it deserved, looking it over as if trying to decide which bite of cake to enjoy first. Those heavy balls hung down over the edge of the mattress, and he couldn’t resist reaching for them first, enjoying the little gasp Crocodile let out. He traced his fingers up the shaft, taking in every new sound from his lover’s lips.

Mihawk brought both hands down, wrapping around that thick cock before leaning in. He looked up from his work with a wicked smile, feeling precum drip down his own length from how desperately he’d been wanting to do this.

“You’ve made a lot of promises, daddy,” he teased, hands still playing while a stern face stared down.

“And?”

“And I hope you keep them,” he purred, licking over that swollen tip. The taste made him moan, Crocodile taking in a sharp breath at the feel of that sweet, dangerous tongue.

Mihawk swirled that tongue, spreading the taste around until Crocodile shuddered, reaching for Mihawk’s hair to hurry him up. Mihawk moved before those fingers could push him, taking as much of that massive cock down his throat as he could in the first go.

“Gods, yes. Good boy, use that filthy fucking mouth of yours.”

Strangled, desperate moans vibrated over Crocodile’s veiny shaft as Mihawk let spit drip down for his hands to play in while he kept opening his throat.

“One hand, little prince,” Crocodile chuckled, dragging his hook along Mihawk's forearm. “You can make us both come, can’t you? You talk such a big–”

That hungry throat relaxed further, even as the man on his knees reacted to the challenge. Muffled grunts forced through as one of his hands left Crocodile’s base to wrap around his own, throbbing length. His other hand shifted down to those heavy balls, squeezing and stretching as he swallowed as much of that fat cock as he could, shoving deeper and deeper.

“Fuck yes. Fucking knew my cock would fit your throat, you dirty, little prince. Be a good boy, and spill all over your hand before you swallow my come. You want daddy's come so fucking bad, don’t you?”

Golden eyes burned with tears as Mihawk looked up, unable to respond except for the choked moans and nods that were lost while he fucked his face onto that cock. But Mihawk obeyed, eyes rolling back as he brought himself, his come shooting high enough to coat his own chest, and the bottoms of Crocodile’s thighs.

“Ju–ust like that– fuck,” Crocodile praised, fisting Mihawks hair to guide the last few strokes. The bandage on his palm had soaked through, but neither man noticed while Crocodile forced that willing throat to take everything he had to give.

Mihawk lost himself in the pain and bliss of being used, drinking in his lover's pleasure as that delicious cock pulsed along his tongue, and so fucking deep down his throat.

After a pause, Crocodile yanked the man up by his hair, Mihawk letting out a filthy moan from the force.

“Fuck…”

Silver eyes poured over the masterpiece that was Mihawk’s body. His own pleasure dripped down his chest and stomach, while the blood from Crocodile’s palm trailed down from the back of his neck, his shoulder, gathering over his collarbone before it fell down his chest in a few thin, bright lines.

“Pretty prince,” Crocodile rasped while Mihawk still twitched from his attention. He released that black hair, frowning at the blood pooling in his palm. Mihawk leaned forward as he grabbed the bleeding hand, either not noticing, or not caring as he placed it against his chest, adding to the mess on his skin.

“So, did I please you, daddy,” he asked, his normal, teasing voice rough from the abuse his throat had just taken.

“Need more praise, huh? Such a spoiled little prince,” Crocodile laughed, tracing one of his thick, jeweled rings over Mihawk's pouting lips before he could retort. “You were soo good for daddy.”

The swordsman's eyes fluttered closed, a relaxed smile touching those devious lips. He swayed a bit, a rare look of exhaustion washing over his features.

“Shower first, bright eyes. You look like a fucking crime scene.”

~~~

“Come here,” Crocodile urged, frowning at Mihawk when he laid down in his normal spot, with no one between them. Mihawk raised a brow, but kept his mouth shut, moving to let the larger man curl around his back.

“Are they okay in there?”

“Of course,” Mihawk laughed softly as sleep pulled the two ex warlords under, “Buggy’s already snoring.”

~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~

It hadn’t made a difference when Shanks released you, his hand no longer covering your lips. You weren’t sure you’d be able to make a sound ever again, to speak any words after the weight of change that Shanks had dropped onto your life.

Buggy’s silly snores gave you bittersweet smiles, yet you still couldn’t sleep.

Every sweet thought of Buggy led to the grief of him being gone. Every sad thought of losing Buggy led to guilt, the need to never hold someone back, to never force someone to be with you.

Selfish. What have I done, anyway? I betrayed him, used him, now we’re both just playthings. He needs to leave. He deserves better than me.

Eventually, Shanks drifted off with his arm still wrapped around you to touch Buggy’s waist. The connection between them was so heavy and ringing that it made your teeth hurt. Time became torture, caught between these sleeping men, and your hurtful thoughts. The prick of tears came, and you longed to sneak out of this bed to be held in the massive one next door. Convincing yourself that you’d be able to sneak away from these powerful pirates undetected was pointless, as the thought of leaving Buggy alone with Shanks made your stomach turn.

Out of pure exhaustion, you were finally forced into sleep. Stormy seas met you again, but this time the ship was cast in red light, and it was Buggy’s voice calling your name.

~~~

“Y/N? Pretty star? You hungry, baby?”

Foggy eyes opened to a smiling face, that red nose seeming redder without fresh makeup to distract from it. Buggy was propped up on an elbow, holding an orange slice to your lips.

“I’m hungry,” Shanks purred, making you jolt as your sleepy brain remembered whose warm body you were pressed against.

“Get your own food, shithead,” Buggy grumbled, eating the slice himself before you had a chance to think.

“Didn’t know this was a buffet,” Shanks chuckled as he nuzzled his face into the side of your neck, humming at the twitches and moans you let out from the sensation. He breathed his next words against your ear, the heat and promise in them making your body tighten, already dripping for him. “I’d love to eat a little bunny for breakfast. I bet you taste so fuckin’ sweet, huh Y/N?”

Too tired and tingling to care that this charming man was here to steal your love, your head fell back against him with a desperate whine. Shanks let out a satisfied sigh as your body loosened, kissing and nibbling down your neck. Buggy placed an orange slice on your tongue, his crystal eyes feasting on the sight of Shanks’ hand and lips on your body before he kissed you, sharing that sweet, yet sharp taste.

“Mm, such a needy little bunny. Gonna tell me how she likes it, Bugs? Tell me how to–”

“Time for work,” Crocodile ordered, the heavy clang of his hook beating against the door.

~~~

You were in a daze.

It didn’t make sense that you had already gotten used to a routine that was so new, and so dangerous, so likely to change at any moment.

Yet, adding Shanks to the mix threw you off. You found yourself spacing out, and you weren’t the only one affected. Crocodile’s displeasure radiated off of him like simmering heat when Shanks charged into the shared suite to get ready with the group.

His frown only let up when it was his turn for the shower, smirking at Mihawk’s daily complaint about needing to install multiple shower heads.

“I need a hand, sweetheart. Wanna help daddy out?”

Crocodile rested his arm against the shower wall away from the water, his soft eyes leading you to his bandaged palm.

“What happened?”

Your question was drowned out by two other voices, Mihawk’s lazy drawl, and Buggy’s excited yell.

“None of us can reach that—“

“I can lend two hands!”

Buggy had already dried off, dropping his towel to the floor as his hands flew back into the shower. Giggles burst out of you when the animated hands started scrubbing Crocodile’s chest and shoulders, the massively tall man’s lips parting while he gawked at Buggy’s smiling face.

Mihawk turned to grab the shampoo, tossing it up for Buggy to massage through that black hair. Your attention was dragged away from the show at the sight of the vicious, red lines trailing from Mihawk’s neck down to his lower back.

Your golden eyed lover caught your expression, making your mind buzz white with a subtle wink before stepping toward Crocodile.

“I’ll get your lower half. You’re too large for one person to handle alone.”

Deep, pleased laughter drifted through the steamy air as Mihawk started scrubbing those powerful thighs, a small, but wicked smirk pulling at his lips.

Buggy’s nose was pressed lightly against the glass, an adorable grin on his giddy face, as he focused on washing that frightening man, but over his shoulder, another face ripped you from the moment.

Shanks.

His red hair was still dark with water, rivulets pouring down the muscles of his chest and stomach. He stared at the scene, nothing in his pretty eyes that you could read, except for the lack of that playful glint.

Shanks noticed your gaze, and as much as you wanted to look away, to pretend you hadn’t seen it, you were trapped.

Trapped by the curiosity that filled those eyes as they poured over your skin, seeming to take in all that you were. The depth of his scrutiny stole your breath, but he broke the spell with a slow, crooked grin.

Your lips obeyed you, returning that friendly smile, but the feeling of being studied didn't fully fade.

What did he see?

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: I have made myself FERALLLLLL. Can't think about anything else 😩

Part 18

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

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likeadevils · 1 year ago

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Midnights Timeline

This is a very long post that puts all the songs on Midnights in order of Taylor creating them. I’ve also included a few other songs she worked on while writing Midnights and quotes from Taylor and her collaborators talking about her process.

If you don't want to read all that, check out this playlist of the album in order, or this playlist of her entire discography. WARNING: there is a very large chunk on the playlists that I have no information on (Maroon-Dear Reader).

I’ve also added this color coded scale of how sure I am of the date:

Confirmed: There is some type of official source for the date

Inferring: Nobody has officially said “This is when we wrote it,” but all available evidence points to that date

Speculation: This date is based off pure vibes and guesswork and is highly likely to change.

Unknown: All that is known is the year (from the US Copyright Offices

Renegade: March 7-15, 2021 (Confirmed)

Aaron: “I wrote the music [for Renegade] at some point after we finished [evermore], and sent it to her, because she was inspired by a llot of the Big Red Machine stuff we were working on. And she had already sung on Birch, a song that hasn't come out yet but is one of the major ones on the record. And I think she wanted to write a song for Big Red Machine. She very much feels like part of this community to me. So I wrote Renegade, the music, and sent it to her. And not unlike a lot of the things we've done together, one day I woke up to a voice memo from her and she had written this incredible song about how anxiety and fear get in the way of loving or being loved. And she was clearly thinking about Big Red Machine. And then we recorded her vocals and everything the week of the Grammys, when I was there in LA, and it was really nice to have something to think about that wasn't related to the Grammys - just to make music because you feel like making it." (transcript from jaimie)

High Infidelity and Would've Could've Should've: March 7-15, 2021 (Confirmed)

Aaron: [Would've Could've Should've], we wrote that song together, and recorded it while we were together in LA for the folklore Grammys. It goes back that far. And the same with High Infidelity. Those songs, we actually recorded in her house, the vocals, we recorded them then. And I just kept making music, and it was kind, after we had made folklore and evermore, I started to have ideas which I would share. And eventually, she obviously made most of Midnights with Jack, and it became something different. But High Infidelity, and Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve, and The Great War, and we made Hits Different with Jack and Taylor and I also, and it was great to be part of that record in that way. (transcript from @cages-boxes-hunters-foxes)

The Great War and Hits Different: between April-October 2021 (Speculation)

In the above quote talking about his songs on Midnights, Aaron says "Eventually, she obviously made most of Midnights with Jack, and it became something different," implying his stuff was written before the bulk of midnights in fall. He also says High Infidelity and Would've Could've Should've "[go] back that far," which implies they were some of the earliest stuff on Midnights, so it's safe to assume TGW and Hits Different come sometime afterwards.

Summer 2021: Jack has a session with Sounwave, Sam Dew, and Zoe Kravitz, where the instrumentals for Lavender Haze and likely Glitch are written

Rolling Stone interview with Sounwave: Before Antonoff began to work on Swift’s tenth album, he was cooking up tracks with Spears, Dew, and Zoë Kravitz [...] During a brainstorming session, the quartet put together a track that would eventually become “Lavender Haze.”

November 3 2021: It was announced that Joe has been cast in Stars at Noon, alongside Margaret Qualley, Jack Antonoff's then girlfriend now wife. Since Joe was parachuted into the film last minute, filming had already started, making it likely he left as soon as possible.

Taylor: We’d been toying with ideas and had written a few things we loved, but Midnights actually really coalesced and flowed out of us when our partners (both actors) did a film together in Panama. Jack and I found ourselves back in New York, alone, recording every night, staying up late and exploring old memories and midnights past.

November 8: Jack gets back from touring with Bleachers. Let the games begin.

Vigilante Shit: November 2021 (Speculation)

Vigilante Shit is the sole solo writing credit on the album, which implies it was written before her and Jack were holed up together 24/7. Also Scooter and his wife divorced in July. Beyond that there's no evidence this is early in the process, besides it making sense that Taylor wrote this alone, brought it to Jack, and then fell into a creative inferno.

Maroon, Anti-Hero, You're on Your Own Kid, Midnight Rain, Bejeweled, Labyrinth, Mastermind, Paris, and Dear Reader: November/December 2021 (Inferring)

I don't have enough info on the making of any of these songs to give them each their own little blurb, but if anything pops up I will update this post and reblog it letting y’all know.

Question..?: After November 21, 2021 (Inferring)

We know Rachel Antonoff, Dylan O'Brien, and Austin Swift were there the day they recorded it thanks to this behind the scenes footage of them recording the cheering vocals. Dylan was filming The Vanishings at Caddo Lake in Louisiana sometime between October 5 and November 20. I don't know exactly which dates he was filming-- he was in New York for All Too Well filming in late October and to attend the premiere on November 12, but since we know for sure he was in Louisiana on the 20th, I'm just gonna Occam's Razor it and say Question was written sometime after he got back from that.

You're Losing Me: December 5, 2021 (Confirmed)

December 17, 2021: Filming wraps on Stars at Noon, and with it the bulk of recording for Midnights.

Lavender Haze: Early 2022 (Speculation)

Lavender Haze, Snow on the Beach, and Karma are the only songs to have Henson Recording Studios credited (I can't find studio credits for the 3am tracks so there is possibly more on there). This could point to them all being recorded around the same time time, or it could be in reference to Jack and Sounwave's original recording sessions taking place at Hensen. I lean towards the former, since 1) it seems like the Winter 2021 sessions were mostly between Taylor and Jack, and the spring sessions have other collaborators, and 2) the tabloid rumors about Taylor and Joe getting engaged really started heating up in February 2022. On the other hand, Sounwave implies that there was a notable stretch of time between Lavender Haze and Karma, so I totally understand if you want to put it with the rest of the Winter 2021 sessions. Rolling Stone interview with Sounwave: A few months [after Jack and Sounwave wrote the instrumentals], Antonoff reached out to Spears, Dew, and Kravitz to see if he could pitch [Lavender Haze] to Swift, who loved it immediately. She wrote lyrics inspired by a Mad Men scene, numerous tabloid rumors and online gossip about her relationship status, and “1950s expectations.” “When Jack brought us in the hear for the first time, all our mouths dropped. She took it to a whole new world and made it her own. She created different pockets we did not hear.”

Glitch: Early 2022 (Speculation)

Rolling Stone interview with Sounwave: "Glitch,” one of the bonus songs on the Midnights (3am) edition, was born from the same studio session as “Lavender Haze.” I don't know if this means the instrumentals to Lavender Haze and Glitch were done in the same session, Taylor wrote the lyrics in the same session, or both. For the same reason as Lavender Haze, I lean towards this coming later in the process, as well as Glitch mentioning being together for six years, and in November 2021 Taylor and Joe had been together for a little over 5 years. That being said, Taylor could've assume the album was going to come out in 2022, and that she would stay with Joe until then, and bump up that date a bit. It's still very up in the air.

February 5, 2022: Taylor is photographed leaving Jack's house holding a keyboard.

Sweet Nothing: Spring 2022 (Inferring)

Joe is a co-write on this, meaning they likely wrote it after he got back from filming. It also mentions their trip to Ireland in 2021 and refers to it as "last July", implying it was written in 2022. While I was writing this timeline Taylor liked this post on twitter, implying that at least the second verse is in reference to Paul and Linda McCartney. The quote is from his poem Blessed, which you can read in this interview (TWs for death and cancer)

Bigger Than The Whole Sky: March 2022 (Inferring)

Claire Winter, a close friend of Taylor's, posts on Instagram that she miscarried. (I toyed with whether or not to add this, but seeing as Claire Winter made the information public herself, I decided to put it in. If she ever takes that Instagram post down, let me know and I'll delete this part.)

Snow on the Beach: April 1, 2022 (Inferring)

On April 1, Lana Del Rey posts a video on Instagram of Jack in the studio with an unidentified female voice in the background. Two days later she posts this photo, which Taylor and Jack both include in posts about Midnights/Snow on the Beach. Lana: Well, first of all, I had no idea I was the only feature [on that song]. Had I known, I would have sung the entire second verse like she wanted. My job as a feature on a big artist’s album is to make sure I help add to the production of the song, so I was more focused on the production. She was very adamant that she wanted me to be on the album, and I really liked that song. I thought it was nice to be able to bridge that world, since Jack [Antonoff] and I work together and so do Jack and Taylor. Taylor: And with Snow On The Beach, which features the genius Lana Del Rey, very lucky to have collaborated with her on that. And Dylan [O’Brien] was actually in the studio with me and Jack, because a lot of the time we record at his place, and Dylan was just hanging out, drinking wine with us, and listening to stuff, and he was just trying out the drum kit there. He wasn't serious. But we were drinking wine, and we were sort of like, 'We haven't recorded the drums for this one yet! See if you want to...' and he played the drums on the song. Sometimes it just happens like that. (transcript once again from jaimie)

Karma: Spring 2022 (Speculation)

Rolling Stone interview with Sounwave: The bubbly “Karma” came later [than Lavender Haze and Glitch], when Antonoff reached out to Spears for any other ideas he may have to contribute to the album and its synth-pop vision. “‘Karma’ was just a last-minute Hail Mary,” Spears says. “I remembered I was working with my guy Keanu [Beats] and had something that was too perfect not to send to her. As soon as I sent it, Jack was instantly like ‘This is the one. Playing it for Taylor now. We’re going in on it.’ The next day, I heard the final product with her vocals on it.”

April 19, 2022: Elle's interview with the Conversations with Friends cast is released, and when Joe is "asked if he hopes to continue writing songs, Alwyn simply says, “It’s not a plan of mine, no.”" It's possible this means Sweet Nothing was yet to be written, but I think it's more likely Joe was just denying in order to not create hype around a song that wasn't officially announced yet.

May 2022: Taylor teases Labyrinth lyrics in her NYU Commencement Speech and says m i d n i g h t very prominently on this instagram post, meaning by early summer she was likely confident in the album's name and which songs would make the tracklist.

And that's all for this timeline! Check out my others:

TIMELINES: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights PLAYLISTS: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights • entire discography GENERAL: tag

#taylor swift #timeline*#wrote this one in a haze with frequent breaks to pace around cause i was shaking so much #so if theres a typo that’s why #as always lmk if you spot a mistake/want further sourcing on anything/etc #AHHHHHH!!!!!

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undead-supernova · 7 months ago

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Bummer! / Masterlist / 18+

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

Playlist

pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

plot: you invite eddie out to a party with you and your best friend and it's all perfect...right?

contains: eddie lacking confidence, confident!reader, dirty dancing/making out, hints at past trauma, arguing, underlining slut shaming, lots of heavy petting and fluffy feelings

note: we're up to part 3 already?! with part 4 already in the works?! who even am I anymore!!! thank you to both @littlexdeaths and @jo-harrington for being my biggest supporters and encouraging me to keep going. this is for you both !!!!

song inspo: the song in this chapter is Tití Me Preguntó by Bad Bunny. It is an absolute bop (also he is so hot it’s not even funny)

wc: 5.6k

“Your life sounds like fan fiction.”

You let out a high-pitched scoff, taking Aron’s stuffed octopus by the tentacles and whacking her with it.

“Shut up!”

Aron chuckled, throwing her hands up. “Hey, I never said that was a bad thing!”

You and Aron, your best friend since freshman year, were perched on her bed, all cross-legged and giggly, recounting the last few weeks with Eddie. When you finally told Aron about him, she was livid. How could you not tell your best friend about a really hot guy you’d been seeing who wasn’t an asshole?

“He’s just so good,” you said with a content smile, throwing your head back on the bed like a girl in a 2000s romantic comedy. “I can’t believe I got this lucky.”

“Yeah, I’d feel lucky too if I had a guy playing guitar for me and tasted like cinnamon and beauty and stuff.”

Your smile widened, the phantom touch of his lips already having imprinted itself on your mouth. “He’s just so nice. And I feel like he gets me, you know? He sees me for me, not for my body or whatever. Plus, we have the same taste in music and movies and…” A soft sigh left your lips as you shrugged. “He just makes me happy, I don’t know.”

Aron leaned over, smiling down at you. The beads at the end of her long braids clinked together as she shook her head at you. “Well, I’m very happy this Eddie is making my best friend all gooey and soft for once.”

You rolled your eyes but you both knew you really appreciated the affirmation. Sometimes you needed that extra assurance, Aron’s opinion being maybe the most important to you—besides your own. When you’d met her at that dreaded Halloween party, all tattered clothes and broken sobs, Aron was quick to help you. Without questions, without judgment. A stranger helping a stranger before becoming best friends within a week.

Before you could get lost in the cold memory, Aron clapped her hands and gasped.

“You should invite him to the party!”

You sat up, furiously nodding. “Oh my God, yes! I completely forgot.”

“It’ll be fun.” You nodded, watching as her nose began to crinkle. “Unless you sneak off to go make out or something.”

Your apologetic smile that turned a little too exaggerated made her groan.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” you said, feigning a sensual tone as you made kissy noises and reached out to tickle her.

She hit you with the octopus (that poor octopus), causing you both to laugh. “You tell me about every fucking kiss, bitch.”

Grabbing it from her, you smirked and said, “And you love hearing about it.”

Aron shrugged. “True. I’m too nosey for my own good.”

“And I’m too honest,” you added, giving her a high-five.

“So, the party?”

You hadn’t felt this way since you were fourteen, running around the football field late at night with Trent Summers, lost in the throes of an unrequited crush. Lost in an all-American fantasy of dating a boy on the football team when you hadn’t even made the cheer squad. Getting your heart broken after he told you he had a girlfriend. You ended your friendship right then and there—resulting in you throwing a football at his face.

Mary Winston had been next, all braces and crooked smiles. Sweet sixteens and discovered identities. You’d met in the art room during lunch, fawning over some TV show before realizing that there was something more there. It didn’t last long, but you swore you’d love her till the day you died. And if anyone had access to your tear-stained diary, they’d know it was very dramatic. Very dramatic.

(Come to think of it, you’d felt something bubbly inside you for Eliza Roseheart in preschool. Playing “husband and wife” and pecking each other on the lips shouldn’t have been as fun as it was.)

Now there was Eddie Munson, the guy who walked you to class and got you coffee just because. At night, you hopped in his van and went on drives. An hour and a half of scream-singing that always ended up with feverish make out sessions by the dock of a lake, the windows fogging up despite the humid heat just beyond those doors. Gnashing teeth as you both giggled your way through can we play 20 Questions? and can I tell you another secret? in between kisses. Helping him down from orgasms after some whispers and heavy, heavy petting, caressing his face in your hands as you told him how good of a job he did. Tracing the lines of his face as you teetered in and out of sleep. Feeling his lips on your forehead as he helped you back into your dorm.

You were never one to believe in good luck. After years of being thrown to the wolves and caged inside a dungeon you built yourself, this nerdy little goofball had coaxed you away from the bars. Led you from a state of hidden solitude, only to welcome you with warm sun and sweaty palms.

All you knew now was that you wanted him. Always.

“We’ll be there.”

Eddie felt naked without his jacket.

As a matter of fact, he felt a bit out of character. A dark, dark purple Black Sabbath tee was paired with his regular black jeans, combat boots, and wallet chain. The same rings and bracelets.

But his jacket. He knew he’d have to leave it with this weather. Smelling bad wasn’t an option tonight, especially meeting your best friend. The less he fucked up his appearance, the less he had to worry about fucking up in general.

So he hung up his favorite boy and left his dorm with bare arms. Followed his heart all the way to your dorm.

Had your roommate greet him, a giggle escaping her lips as soon as she saw him. Aron, as he learned, was quick to pull him into conversation as you finished up getting ready. Though you called down the hallway to them, he still couldn’t calm his anxiety.

Meeting new people didn’t bode well for him.

And yet he was proven wrong—their conversation was as easy as breathing, exchanging thoughts on their favorite video games and how legendary Black Sabbath was.

“Oh, I like you,” she said at one point and laughed at the blush rising to his cheeks. “I’m glad you already know that’s a compliment of the highest degree.”

He’d thought he got his groove back. He really did. But then he heard your heels echoing through the hallway and looked over at your figure coming closer. Eddie immediately shot up out of his seat at the sight of you.

Your dress was one he hadn’t seen before, a satin black spaghetti-strapped dress that hugged your curves just right. A patch at the bottom showed a red rose, circled by a silver snake. Black heels and an array of rings. No necklace, no earrings. Smokey-eyed and gloss-lipped.

“Fucking hell.”

Both girls broke out into laughter.

He wanted to hit himself. Could he once, just once, keep his mouth shut?

“Sorry,” he added.

You shook your head, stepping closer. “Don’t be. I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received, so thank you.”

Eddie nearly missed Aron skipping off to her room when you pulled him into a hug. He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, letting his arms wrap around your back. Even after all these weeks, he found that he could never get used to your embrace. Your skin against his, the fizzle of something electric jumping between your bodies.

“You look amazing, by the way,” you whispered in his ear before pulling back. He was pretty sure your smile was just as goofy as his. “I love your shirt.”

“Thought you might,” he responded with a small laugh. He leaned in to kiss your cheek, but stopped himself. “Sorry.”

Your smile faltered as confusion flooded your face. “For what?”

Before he could apologize again, Aron was skipping back into the room and clapping her hands together.

“Alright, let’s boogey.”

You were quick to settle into the party, the three of you standing in one corner or another, laughing over really anything you could think of. Aron was sure to point out everyone who was cool and everyone who was not, giving Eddie a crash course in the party scene that always felt a little too high school for your taste. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to bother with that stuff which you liked. There was nothing worse than watching someone lose themselves in fair-weather friends.

Two drinks in, Aron left to go find some other friends of hers, reiterating that they were part of the Cool Crowd. It left you and Eddie to your own devices, with your exaggerated bantering and light shoves. Touches that felt like electric shocks, the voltage only increasing with each jab. At some point, you had to wonder if that’s why you both kept doing it.

Then, in the middle of threatening to tickle him, you heard the starting sounds of a Bad Bunny song you liked. Leaning your head back, you let out a satisfied “Yes!”, watching as people quickly gathered near the speakers.

Eddie looked at you, confused.

You merely chuckled, taking his hand and leading him over to the small crowd.

“Let’s dance!”

Your hand grasped his over your shoulder, just like that night you met. It was a feeling like no other, Eddie’s heart hammering in his chest. And, God, he really couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

He was happy. He was having fun.

“I don’t know how to dance to this kind of music!” he admitted loudly, a smile still plastered on his lips.

But you were far from deterred. “Just follow my lead, pretty boy.”

And just like that, you were turning around and tugging his hands forward until they met your waist. Let yourself lean back on him, grinding your hips as they swayed back and forth.

Effortless. That’s the best way he could describe the way you moved, the way you never missed a beat. The bass pumped and vibrated through Eddie’s limbs, but you seemed to be one with the music.

Dancing wasn’t something unheard of when it came to Eddie. If he was listening to music, chances were that he was shimmying his shoulders or head banging. In a mosh pit, he let himself get jostled around, bopping along to the sound. He may not have had hips like Jagger, but he knew how to move them at least.

However, this was new territory, having a girl, having you in front of him, waiting for him to move. And if he was supposed to move, then god dammit, he was going to move.

Eddie took a deep breath before the beat slowed down. Letting his wired thoughts fade into a soft buzz, doing what he felt was right. Like pulling you tight against his chest and moving his hips at the same time as yours. Pushing himself against your ass, a harsh breath leaving his nose at the friction.

Sighing, you let your head fall back on his shoulder, a content smile lifting onto your lips. Raised your hands, wrapping them around his neck the best you could, rhythm never lost on you.

And it would be just so easy to…

But would you be okay with…

Fuck it.

Shaking his head, he leaned down and began to kiss your neck. Your next sigh was what officially turned him on, pushing him further into your heat wave. Licked a stripe up your neck and tugged on your earlobe with his teeth.

Eddie couldn’t help the thought, the impulse creeping up in this crowded house party to move his fingers just a bit lower, to skirt the hem of your dress that was riding up with each swirl of your hips. He wanted you, cock straining against his jeans in near agony, continuing to litter your neck with love bites as if you were alone.

And just before he could get a little more bold, you were taking his trigger-finger hand and placing it on your thigh, so close to what he could call the inner thigh.

“Is that okay?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He nodded. “Was already headed there, sweetheart. You beat me to it.”

“I took an earlier flight,” you joked.

A breathy chuckle left his lips. “That’s okay. That’s not my last stop anyways.”

Your thigh was soft, full, easy enough to squeeze. So he did, eliciting a high-pitched sigh from you.

A proud smile met your face. So you liked when he took the upper hand.

And, God, if you kept looking at him like that, he was going to start fingering you in front of every fucking person here. Maybe he would. No one was looking at you both, right? He could do it. Just a little bit. Just…just a little bit.

His fingers twitched, raising higher and higher and—

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” a voice said, snapping you out of this moment. You both looked over to see Aron approaching, taking hold of one of your wrists. “But I gotta steal her for a second.”

“Aron!” you exclaimed, holding onto Eddie’s hand as long as you could before Aron dragged you away. Sorry, you mouthed at him before turning back.

You couldn’t help your face growing hot at the feeling of your wetness still sticking to your inner thighs as you parted them.

She didn’t pull you far, but you couldn’t help how pissed you felt. Granted, you weren’t really pissed at her but something was about to happen and you’d been more than happy to just let it.

Eddie was finally taking the upper hand, doing what he wanted. Not just going along with what you told him to do. There was no blind faith or overthought. No, he was showing—initiating. It was euphoric. It was nearly orgasmic…

“What’s going on?” you asked, smoothing out the hem of your dress. And as you stood there fixing yourself, you felt Aron step closer to you.

“Listen, Sam is walking around, drunk as fuck—”

“Big shock there,” you commented, crossing your arms over your chest.

Aron let out a snort. “Yeah, literally. Anyways, he’s talking about how easy you are in bed and keeps telling everyone you’re here with Eddie to make him jealous.”

Sam Covington had been a problem for…a while. Maybe since last summer, when you were…friendly with some of the frat guys’ girlfriends. Got invited out one night and Sam was there, always staring at you from any corner of the room or finding excuses to talk to you. It was fucking creepy.

It was one of those things that sent chills down your spine, the fear for your safety growing with each glance. That voice that made you want to run and hide. The touch that had you wondering if you’d remembered to grab your pepper spray and whistle.

Usually, you were able to stand your ground and hurl insults he couldn’t fathom hearing from a woman. Even the last party you’d seen him at, the one where you had met Eddie…

But it didn’t mean that you felt any more secure.

“Him? Ha!” You exaggerated your tone, trying to keep your voice from shaking. Waved your hand around, desperate to stay calm. “What a fucking joke. He wishes.”

Eddie’s blood ran cold at your mocking tone, taken aback by your blatant degradation. Like a mask had been removed, revealing a forked tongue and razor sharp teeth.

He’d seen your expression, your shoulders turning inward, like you were uncomfortable. He decided to walk over and, sure, it was probably rude. He knew that. However, he couldn’t stand to see you upset. He needed to know what was going on, pulled to you with some tether that he couldn’t explain.

But he regretted it immediately.

Aron chuckled. “If that ain’t the truth, girl.”

“He’s such a fucking loser, I swear. Can’t catch a fucking hint.”

Eddie once thought he’d let go of the anger he once held in high school. The defiant boy that was once riddled with so much frustration at the cruel hand he’d been dealt. The one that jumped up on lunch tables and screamed at whoever would listen. He thought he’d given up on holding onto the bitterness of verbal sucker punches and bruised ribs.

But it was creeping back up, that violent shaking that ran along his arms. The torment of those five brutal years of high school tingling in his fingertips as you continued to desaturate the vibrancy of a man he thought he was becoming.

“Like, why does he have to be so obsessed with you?”

You shrugged and his eyes caught the tail end of your eye roll. “Because he’s so fucking desperate for someone to fuck him. That’s why.”

And before he could stop his head from going there, he was back in that blistering July. The fear of being used goods clutching at his throat as he struggled to speak, struggled to find an escape.

“Pathetic,” you stated, voice thick with disgust.

That scorching July. Fingers trembling on the doorknob, his sweaty palm slicking it in sweat. Slipping.

No escape, no escape.

He needed to get out. There was no thought, just action. So, he turned and started stalking towards the front door. Voices in his head spoke over one another, flooding his brain.

Freak. Loser. Dirty. Good for nothing. Desperate. Trailer park trash.

Pathetic.

“Eddie?” he heard behind him, the sound of his name on your lips like a beckoning call, serenading him with its delicacy.

If he didn’t have a shred of dignity left, he would’ve turned around and come running. But he didn't, instead making a run for the side of the house. Maybe if he hid, he didn’t have to face your humiliation.

And, like he said, he didn’t have to run back…because you were already catching up with him, stopping him in his tracks as you stepped in front of him. How you did that in six inch heels was fucking beyond him.

Placing a hand on his chest, you asked, “What’s wrong?” As your eyes scanned his face, you added, “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

But he knew better.

He did, didn’t he?

“Are you using me?”

You paused, flinching away from his chest as if you’d been burned. “Excuse me?”

“Like…” Eddie started, trying to take a deep breath to keep himself level. But he was starting to falter, all shaky and desperate for you to get it the fuck over with. “Like, if we even fuck, is that it? Will the chase be over for you?”

Your face began to harden, something resembling fury clouding your features. “How fucking dare you think I’d do something like that.”

“It’s just a question!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, and I don’t appreciate you acting like I’m engaging in this relationship just to fuck you and leave.”

His eyebrows furrowed as his nostrils flared with frustration, both of you holding mirrored expressions. But yours softened first, the edges of your snarl quivering. Shaking your head, you took another step back.

“I like you, Eddie. Okay? I’ve liked you since that first night. We’ve been on, like, three dates now? And I introduced you to my best friend, for Christ’s sake. You make me laugh but you make me so fucking soft, it drives me insane. And those late night drives make these stupid midterms worth it.”

“Oh.”

“Did I really have to spell it out?” Eddie didn’t say anything. “I mean, geez. I thought I’ve been an open book this whole time. I’ve spent practically every day with you. Every night, even. Like, why would I want to be with anyone else? And did you really need me to reiterate all of that?”

“But you told your friend that I’m—”

“What?!” you exclaimed before shaking your head. “No, that was about this frat guy, Sam. He’s been creeping on me again and is spreading fucking rumors and I am getting literally so sick and tired of it.”

The dissipated anger began to creep back up at the thought of some douchebag stalking you. Who the fuck was Sam to not take a fucking hint? And why was it becoming so increasingly hard not to run back into that party and beat the shit out of him?

“A guy’s been creeping on you? Since when?”

You sighed. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.”

Eddie held up a hand. “Now, hang on. I am going to worry about that, because that’s not nothing.”

“I agree, but that’s a later conversation,” you said, pushing his hand down and shaking your head. “Get to the part where you tell me why you think I’d ever say that about you.”

Eddie was the one to sigh now, pissed that you had to move on but ultimately needed to confess. “I just never thought you’d actually be into me.”

“Why?” you nearly yelled.

“I’m just a fr—”

“Ew! If you say ‘freak’, I’m legally obligated to rip your eyes straight out of your skull.”

A breath escaped his nose as he closed his eyes and tried again. “You just…you’ve dated more people than I have.”

“Based off of what?”

His eyes flew open. “What?” he asked, unsure what you meant.

“You haven’t even bothered to ask me how many people I’ve dated—or fucked, for that matter.” Eddie’s eyes widened. “I’ve had one relationship. One.”

“Really?” he whispered.

You let out a laugh that didn’t match your exhausted expression. “Yeah, for a week until she got nervous about her parents finding out and dumped me. I was sixteen.” Furrowed eyebrows returned to your face as you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned towards him dramatically. “What about that, huh? How many people have you dated, Eddie?”

Two. The number was thick in his throat, his verbalization swallowed by your question being, well, rhetorical.

You paused, turning your face away from the light. But he caught your pointer finger flying up to dab your lower lash line. “Like, I’ve had sex, sure. But it’s not like I ask all those guys to fucking harass me. I honestly don’t know how that became a thing here. Like, I’m just here. I’m just trying to have fun.”

The guilt was starting to settle in his chest. “I should’ve caught that.”

“I thought you understood me,” you said before letting out a high-pitched sound of disbelief, lifting your hands and letting them fall at your sides with a loud thwack. “Like, I’m not a slut or a whore or whatever they want to say despite it being the twenty-first fucking century! And I can’t even be with you without some guy trying to—”

He heard it before he saw it. A scoff that shifted into a sob as you crouched down to your knees, only hovering above the ground by your tall heels.

Eddie had never seen you cry, had never seen the façade so easily broken. This girl he once thought untouchable, invincible, cracking before his eyes.

Looking back to all of those moments, those numerous instances of harassment, how quick you were to send them a message. How easily it came to you, to throw your verbal and physical punches like it was nothing. Like it was a normal thing.

He’d gotten so caught up in how badass you were that he didn’t stop to think about how you felt about it. Or why it came so easily to you.

He crouched down, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, I’m really sorry. That was really shitty of me.”

He felt you lean into his hand, glad that you weren’t rejecting him. It was lame, but he didn’t think he could handle your rejection right now. Especially when you were in this state. Especially when he was the reason why.

Turning to glance at him through your tears, you said, “Eddie, that really hurt my feelings.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed,” he said truthfully. “If it means anything, I didn’t think you were a, um, slut or whatever. I just thought maybe you didn’t want me the same way.”

You nodded, sniffling while wiping the snot away from your nose. Never once did you pull away from his touch or grow cold. “Yeah, I get that.” You paused, your eye contact starting to burn him. “I’ve never done any of the shit we’ve done with other people. I’ve only felt that comfortable with you.”

“But you’re just…” he trailed before sighing and closing his eyes. “You’re just so good at it.”

When he heard a loud laugh leaving your lips, his eyes flew open, grateful to see a smile on your face. The laugh turned into a fit of snorts, leaving him to laugh at just how adorable you were.

“Yeah, thanks,” you teased, the familiar tone giving him the ability to breathe again. “It’s a litany of porn, smut, and—” You moved your hands up to mimic the shape of a rainbow. “Imaginaaation.”

The reference got Eddie laughing again, nodding along as he replied, “You could’ve told me you’re a dominatrix on the side and, like, I would’ve believed you. Scout’s honor.”

“Good to know,” you joked.

Eddie stood back up then, shaking his head as he reached a hand out to you. “I’m an asshole.”

You lifted an eyebrow, slowly shaking your head back at him before taking his hand. “You’re more special than you think you are.”

He lifted you up, grasping your palm in his as he brought you closer to him. Your joined hands rested against his heart, faces inches apart.

There you were, your eyes fully in view now. Watery, with makeup creasing along your waterline and smudged mascara littering your cheeks. Despite the quiet pain it caused him, he was grateful to get a glimpse at your beauty again, your attention still gutting him over and over again.

If he didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn he could feel his guts spilling onto the concrete. And when he drew closer, it was made even worse as he felt your heart rate increase in real time.

And, god dammit, he couldn’t help himself. Eddie closed the gap and kissed you. Gently, tentatively. Let himself linger just long enough to inhale your breath before pulling back.

“My god, you’re precious,” he whispered, heart clenching with every feature you softened—the mask slipping. His eyes fell upon your lips, slightly ajar in shock.

“Yeah?” you whispered, breath hitching when he lightly pushed you against the wall.

Eddie’s nose skimmed your cheek, desperate to breathe in your perfume. One last whiff. He swore it. Just one more.

Just one more.

“Mm-hm,” he hummed, inhaling your scent again.

It was the last time. Promise.

“Tell me again,” you pleaded.

He pulled back, catching the clenching of your thighs in his peripheral. A dangerous smile grazed his lips as he gave you what you wanted.

“You’re precious.”

You nodded repeatedly, doe-eyed as you begged, “Again.”

“You’re precious,” he said, hushed as his lips hovered above yours.

“Please,” you whimpered, legs squirming against his. But he pushed you further into the wall, your connected hands halting your movement. He could feel your heart racing furiously. “One more time.”

“You’re precious, baby.”

Before you could lunge at him, he was a step ahead of you, crushing your lips with his. Released your hand, quick to cup your face as you floundered to find somewhere to put your hands. Taking a page out of your book, he grabbed your wrists and placed them on his shoulders.

A sigh left your lips at the movement, nodding your head as you pushed your tongue into his mouth. What you were nodding about, he had no idea. He didn’t have the ability to have thoughts about anything anymore.

All he could think was more, more, more.

All he could feel was you.

He couldn’t help himself when he slotted his thigh between yours, earning a deafening moan that made him harder than he already was. You’d moaned, sure. He’d heard you do it plenty of times when you made out. But he was suddenly struck with how different your positions were now. And how he was the reason for it.

The thought drove him closer to the edge, roughly grabbing at your cheek with one hand while the other slid down your thigh, snaking around your knee and jerking your leg up to his hip. Your gasp made him even crazier, unable to help it when he pushed his thigh further against your core. Another wild whimper, this time with an edge of impatience.

“This okay?” he asked.

You nodded furiously. “Yes. Yes.”

If Eddie had the confidence, he’d take you against this house right now. He’d slide into you with ease, Fucking those little sounds out of you, the ones he dreamed about at night. The ones that would mirror the way you sounded right now, only intensified and louder.

And yet it was enough to hear your now quiet desperation, to feel your thighs clench around his leg, your soaking pussy dripping through your panties and staining his jeans with ease.

“Jesus, you’re soaked.”

You nodded furiously, seemingly unable to speak as you gasped and chased his lips again. Ground your pussy against his leg. Impatient, hungry.

He couldn’t help but feel greedy, draping himself around you.

Let there be witnesses. Let the whole house hear him, he didn’t care. But those noises, your noises, belonged solely to him. Swallowed by his mouth, muffled by his body shielding yours. The vibrations pulsed through his cheeks and he couldn’t help but let out a low groan.

He noticed you continuing to chase the friction, rubbing yourself along the denim over and over, his jeans being ruined with every rut of your hips. If Eddie hadn’t been drunk off of you before, he was deliriously faded now. Because you were still going, no words leaving your mouth. Just whimpers and moans.

He wanted to say something, wanted to beg you to keep going. But he stayed quiet, knowing that you’d probably stop, keeping yourself from the pleasure he was witnessing. You looked like a goddess, eyes rolling back and, dear god, he needed to mark your neck again. He dipped his head down and began nipping at your skin again, frenzied at the reaction it pulled out of you.

The hitch in your breath caught his attention, moving his face from your neck to see your head thrown back. Your heaving chest was the indicator, the slow build of something beginning inside you.

“Do it,” he whispered. “Come for me.”

Without any warning, he felt your legs tremble before your cum seeped into his jeans. A cry left your lips as your breath continued at a rapid pace, sweat dripping down your neck. Eddie was quick to lick it up, trying hard not to get on his knees and lap up what was left from the source.

(He was just glad he had enough restraint to resist begging for your underwear to keep for later.)

(The one time he’s able to keep his mouth shut.)

One last whimper left your lips as you came down, chasing the last of your high on his leg before he moved it out of the way. Left a gentle kiss on your forehead before he heard you sniffle.

“S-sorry,” you breathed, tightly squeezing your eyes shut. He came back to the present, leaning back as he watched your face crumble. “Sorry.”

Eddie took your chin between his fingers. “Hey, open your eyes. Look at me.”

At first, you only opened one, like you were testing the waters. He chuckled, earning access to your other eye. “There she is,” he murmured, pecking your nose. “Why’re you apologizing?”

“‘Cause I didn’t ask you if it was okay if I did that.” Tears brimmed in your eyes as you pushed his fingers away, covering your mouth with your hand. Shook your head as you added, “I didn’t ask. I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

“Baby, I would’ve stopped you.” He moved your hand away, lightly stroking your cheek as he continued. “I was honestly scared you would stop.”

Your head cocked towards his, glassy eyes turned clear again. “Why?”

“‘Cause then I wouldn’t have gotten to make you cum.”

A bashful expression immediately fell over your features, shoulders caving inwards as you bit your lip. You tapped your heels against the concrete, one by one, all jittery and shy. It was cute.

“Yeah, I didn’t plan on that, either,” you said. “But you just…”

“Hm?”

You shrugged, sighing. “You kinda fucked with my head.”

“Does that mean I get to finally fuck you?”

Tapping at your cheek, you looked away in feigned contemplation before shaking your head. “Nope. I think I’ll make you work harder to get to see it.”

“Nah, I could prove it right now,” he insisted, getting down on both knees.

You became flustered, looking at your surroundings before back down at him. “Eddie, no.”

He put his hands in a praying position and tried to puppy-dog eye you. “Trust me, I can make you do that, like, five more times right now.”

“Eddie—”

“And that’s just with my tongue.”

“Oh my God. Get up,” you said with a laugh, tugging him to stand back up. “We’re not doing this in public.”

Eddie snorted, a goofy smile meeting his lips. “Well, technically we already—”

“There you guys are!”

Aron’s voice snapped you both out of your delirium, bringing you back to where you were.

“Oh, ew!” she nearly screeched, eyes wide as she stared at Eddie’s jeans. “We’re in public, guys. Come on.”

When you both looked down, you saw your cum glistening across his jeans.

“I’m sorry!” you said at the same time Eddie said, “I’m not sorry!”

You immediately gawked at him and he couldn’t have enjoyed any reaction more. His smirk said it all, earning a quick whack to his shoulder.

“You’re both so horny on main. I’m never letting you out of my sight at a party ever again.”

thank yew for the divider @strangergraphics

#Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson/reader #Eddie munson x you #Eddie munson/you #Eddie x you #Eddie x reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie Munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie Munson smut #boring! series

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live-love-be-unique · 8 months ago

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Crossing All The Lines

Summary: Callsign: Tink. Brought into the taskforce as a hacker/ intel specialist, you butt heads with your captain.

#47. Reader is a hacker or intel specialist for @glitterypirateduck O,Captain! challenge

Also, inspiration for a chubby reader and the death of a certain Austrian from @391780, Early I hope I did you proud.

Parings: Price x chubby f reader

Warnings: Idiots in love, female reader, smut with some plot, oral (f!receiving), vaginal sex 18+ Minors DNI

“It’s your eye in the sky, so to speak” you said, holding the small drone you had been tinkering with before he had walked into your office. You animatedly showed off the newest toy you had been tinkering with, pointing out the features you had added “it has the capability to record and store six hours of audio and video. I’m working on the signal range to extend…”

Price reached over the desk and turned off the screaming you called music that was blasting through your computer speakers “I’m not taking some flying toy into a war zone” he said with finality. Laswell’s recommendation be damned, he didn’t need some little dolly bird tottering around the base in ridiculous shoes telling him how to run his taskforce.

“Oh ok, so will you be letting Gaz know you’re planning on pitching him out the side of a helicopter again to run surveillance or am I?” you say, casting him a smirk over your shoulder as you place the drone on the shelf behind you. Price groaned and rolled his eyes away from you.

You were the newest addition to the taskforce, at Laswell’s insistence, she claimed you were the best intel operative she had encountered in years. She had pulled a few strings and called in some favours with the higher ups that Price could only fantasize about knowing to get you after you had saved their arses with some quite impressive hacking skills.

To say you weren’t what Price had been expecting was a massive understatement. The day you were introduced to the team, you were all bright colours and sparkles in a sea of soldiers. Hardly military issue, as you arrived on base, you had poured your soft, rounded curves into that dress. A wiggle-dress his mother used to call them, and ridiculously high heels. The sight of you made his mouth water and his hands itched to feel your soft skin and overflowing curves. Soap and Gaz took to you instantly, bestowing you with the callsign Tink because of your love for tinkering with random projects or Tinkerbell according to Soap, Ghost took a little longer but your preference for a proper cup of tea and non-judgmental attitude towards his unwillingness to show his face quietly won him over.

The only one you hadn’t bonded with was Price. You butted heads and frustrated each other. Trading snide comments and jabs. Price did appreciate the fact that you kept a jar of sweets on your desk that you made an effort to keep stocked with his and the lads favorite treats and he had to admit that, Laswell was correct, your hacking skills were second to none.

Price watched as you spent the first three weeks of your time on base bringing in new trinkets for your small office. Candles, figurines and a small cactus that Soap didn’t notice until he sat on one day. You admonished him for weeks until he brought you in another, non-spiky one. “I’m sorry, Tinkerbell, forgive me?” he’d pouted, holding out the small succulent towards you. Your office was an explosion of colour like you, and there was always music playing, you’d even created a playlist with Soap and Gaz.

But…on more than one occasion not that he would admit it, Price found himself in his office late at night surrounded by the cloying scent of artificial strawberries from the candles you preferred to decorate your office with that seemed to follow you around, with his hand furiously fisting his cock. Your bratiness was like catnip to him. Every cheeky little sass you threw his way made him harder than ever.

You yourself, never thought you would be one to enjoy it when a man yelled at you but with Price’s gravely, low voice and the sheer broadness of him…damn...you couldn’t count the nights you spent with the absolutely non military issue neon pink vibrator between your legs imagining it was Price instead, his booming voice echoing in your ears as you came. Your embarrassing crush on the captain had stopped you from dating, all bar a handful of dates with that very tall Austrian colonel from Kortac, you thought he had ghosted you after your dates but came to find out that he had died from ingesting strychnine poison in a Romanian brothel after sleeping with a married woman.

“Are you even listening to me?” Your voice pulled Price back to the present.

“There’s nothing to hear, we’re not taking that thing” he pointed towards the shelf.

“It’s already been cleared. You just have to control everything don’t you?”

“I’m the captain for a reason” he muttered, stubbornly.

You scoffed “god, I bet you couldn’t last one day without controlling everything”

Price leaned forward, open palms resting on the desk in front of him, staring down at you “try me”

“What?”

“You heard me…try me, doll”

You can’t tell who made the first move as your hair was wrapped tightly in Price’s hands as he pulled you against his lips in a heated kiss. He groans deeply as your teeth nip sharply at his bottom lip.

“That dress looks divine on you” he smirks, pulling away from your lips breathing heavily.

“Thank you-”

“How easy is it to take off?”

You smirked, turning your back towards Price, moving your hair over your shoulder and glancing over your shoulder at him.

Price licked his lips as his hands slid slowly from your waist up your back. His hands made quick work of the zipper as he slid the dress down over your shoulders, placing a gentle almost loving kiss between your shoulder blades.

You turned to face him as you dropped your dress to the floor. You felt exposed as Price’s eyes raked over your near naked form.

Price couldn’t take his eyes away from you. The lacy navy coloured lingerie hugged your soft, rounded curves perfectly. Your eyes locked with his as he dropped to his knees in front of you.

“Tell me you want this” his eyes bore into yours as his hands toyed with the waistband of your underwear “tell me you want me”

“Price…”

“John, call me John…please” he whimpered.

“Please, John”

“Fuck” he uttered as he dragged the lace over your hips and down your legs. You shuddered as the cool air met your soaking core.

He pushes your legs apart, pressing little kisses on your inner thighs, before nuzzling his cheek against you, breathing in your scent as he lifted one of your legs to rest on his shoulder.

He looks up at you, eyes blown out with desire. Before you had a chance to think of a witty retort, he dives in, tongue sliding through your folds. You fall back against the desk with a soft groan as your hands find his hair, gripping tight as he laps at you like a man starved. “Fuck,” he moans against you. “You taste so fucking good.” He spreads you apart, adding a finger into the mix, he thrusts it in and out of your eager hole as his tongue laps at you. You moan softly, hand still tangled in his hair as you arched your back, body chasing his tongue against your heated skin.

“Stop wriggling” he gritted out, his voice strained as his calloused hands gripped the plush of your thighs.

“Make me”

Price chuckled as he grabbed your waist and lifted you, you squealed and wrapped your legs around his hips as he sat you on your desk “just once, will you do as you're told?” His hands on either side of your hips, holding you firmly against him.

“Where’s the fun in that?” You smirked, locking your ankles behind his back and pulling him closer.

Price grunts, gripping your thighs against his waist as he leans forward and leaves wet, sloppy kisses along your shoulders and up the column of your neck. His teeth nip and bite at the delicate skin, marking you, claiming you as his own.

“You have no idea how much I want you”

“Oh I think I get the idea” your smirk as his lips continued their path towards your chest. You ground against him and chuckled as you felt the rumble of a moan in his chest.

“I want to ruin you”

“Please…do it”

That was all the encouragement he needed as he hurried to undo his belt and shove his pants to his ankles.

“Your hand feels so much better than my own” he rasped as you wrapped your hands around him, lining his cock up with your pussy. You moaned against each other's lips as he sinks into you. The stretch to accommodate him is nothing short of delicious. Your grind against him as he bottoms out.

Your eyes meet as he pulls out of you before snapping his hips back against you, filling you so completely that it steals the air from your lungs.

Your hands grip anywhere you can as Price rolls his hips up into you, the way you squeeze him spurs him on as you writhe and keen underneath him. Your nails leave crescent shapes in the skin of his back as he looms over you, his arms caging you against his broad chest.

Price couldn’t stop himself, he kissed at the skin of your bare shoulder, bared his teeth and bit, hard, you yelped. Oh shit, he thought, have I gone too far?

He stopped and looked into your eyes, searching for any type of distress.

“More” you purred. You’d be the fucking death of him.

He smirks as he can feel your body tightening around him, you’re getting closer and he isn’t far behind as he slams into you with one final snap of his hips. His lips find yours as you moan into his mouth, tongue and lips clashing together as you come.

Your door swung open “about time” Ghost muttered as he closed the door again.

“So…that was…” Price stumbled out as he pulled out of you, picking up your dress that laid crumpled on the floor. He gently pulled it over your spent body. Resisting the urge to drop kisses to any sliver of skin he could see.

“Great, it was great” you smile, pausing slightly before standing up on your toes to place a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. He turned his head, chasing your lips as you shared a soft kiss.

“Yeah, it was great” he smiled, suddenly bashful.

#captain price cod #price smut #captain john price #john price #captain john price smut #oh captain my captain

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doctorbitchcrxft · 6 days ago

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Ghostfacers | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: reader's a little traumatized by this one, angst, canon violence, canon gore, slightly NSFW (MDNI 18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 6023

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“Do we have to do this?” you asked Dean.

“Unfortunately, yeah,” he replied.

You, Dean, and Sam were heading toward the lair of “the Ghostfacers,” as they had dubbed themselves; otherwise known as the “mooks”— Dean’s words, not yours— you’d met at the Hell House in Texas.

After exchanging some awkward “hello”s with them, you settled into lawn chairs in the Ghostfacers’ “office,” otherwise known as Ed’s parents’ garage.

You and Dean had been to Batman Begins in theaters a few months prior, and from that experience, you knew neither of you would be capable of silence during this viewing of the Ghostfacers’ documentary.

With Dean on your right, Sam to your left, and the Ghostfacers sitting in front of you, you turned your attention to the projector one of them had set up and aimed at the garage door.

***

The screen faded in on Harry and Ed sitting in fancy chairs holding glasses of brandy and wearing suits.

“Hello. I am Harry Spengler”

“And I am Ed Zeddmore. Now if you have received this tape, you must be some sort of bigwig network executive. Well, today is your lucky day, mister.”

“Because the unsolicited pilot you are about to watch is the bold new future of ‘reality TV’,” Harry continued.

Ed hummed. “We know you've had it hard during the crippling writer's strike.”

“Lazy fat cats.”

“Who needs writers when you've got guys like us?”

Harry reached for a cheap dimmer switch.

***

“Why wouldn’t they edit that out?” you whispered to Dean.

“Skill issue,” Dean replied, smirking.

***

Ed appeared on-screen, voice carrying loudly through the basement once more. “Our team faced horrible horrors to bring you the footage that will change your world forever. So strap in for the scariest hour in the history of television.”

Harry stupidly continued, “In the history of your life…”

“Strap in for…”

“Ghostfacers!” Harry and Ed disjointedly exclaimed together.

Then, a horrific theme song started playing over the introduction to each of the Ghostfacers, and, to your surprise, Sam was introduced as well. The man in question went white when his face appeared on screen.

You snickered, but your laughter didn’t last long when you appeared next. Your name flashed across the screen in bold white letters while they played a clip of you pointing your finger in Harry’s face and yelling at him. Dean laughed at you, but again, his laughter was short-lived when he was introduced flipping off the camera, his finger censored by a weird drawing of a skull.

You turned to him smirking, and he jokingly rolled his eyes at you.

***

“You know,” Ed began, western music playing in the background of a shot of him and Harry walking forward, “it can get kind of hard balancing our daytime careers with our nighttime missions.”

“Yeah, but Ed and I pretty much call the shots at the Kinko's where we work, so we can usually pretty much get off by six every night?” Harry chimed in.

***

You shot a look at Dean.

***

The video continued. “Yeah, six o'clock. It used to be just, you know, you and I taking on the cases— just Harry and me.”

“Two lone wolves,” Harry added, his face appearing on-screen again.

“And two lone wolves need, uh… other wolves,” Ed finished.

***

“I can’t tell if I find their remarkable stupidity endearing or not,” you whispered to Dean.

***

“Morning, 'facers,” on-screen Ed announced.

“It's seven p.m., dude,” Spruce chimed in from behind the camera.

“It's morning to a Ghostfacer,” Harry said. “Corbett, what do we got, buddy?”

“Oh, I'm just putting up some of the—”

Ed cut Corbett off. “Yeah, this has got to go up here. That's got to go here. got to see the whole field. Markers, eraser— good job.”

Then, the video cut to Corbett introducing himself. “I first saw Ed putting up flyers down at the— the outlet mall in Scogan, so I- I read one, and I thought to myself, ‘huh. Where do ghosts come from?’ And now here I am.” He smiled awkwardly.

“Ed, your sister's abusing staff,” Harry said, appearing back on screen.

“That's adopted sister, thank you very much,” Ed replied.

It then cut to Maggie, the sister in question. “Ed has been obsessed with the supernatural since we were kids, y’know, and then he meets Harry at computer camp. And love at first geek.”

***

“I genuinely do enjoy her,” you whispered to Dean.

“What, you got a crush?” he whispered back.

“Hell, no. Harry can have her,” you said, nudging his cheek with your nose playfully.

***

“Spruce here.” He’d turned the camera around on himself. “What up, playa?” It then cut to him driving a cart picking up golf balls. “I am fifteen-sixteenths Jew, one-sixteenth Cherokee. My grandfather is a mohel, my great-grandfather was a tallis maker, and my great-great-grandfather was a degenerate gambler and had a peyote addiction.”

It cut back to the interior of the garage.

“Okay, people,” asserted Ed. “Let's cut the chatter and get on a mission. Okay? Morton house. One of our big fish. Alright, we all know the legend. Every four years, supposedly, this becomes the most haunted place in America.”

“The leap year ghost, some call it,” Harry added. “The ghost returns at midnight just as February 29th begins.”

“And no one has ever stayed the night, right?” Maggie chimed in.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, well, every testimony that we dug up, every eyewitness has cut and run well before midnight.”

“Well, that's all about to change, baby,” Ed commented.

Harry nodded proudly beside Ed. “Absolutely true, Ed. Absolutely true.”

***

Dean leaned down to you. “You think they’ve ever fucked?”

“Oh, definitely,” you answered.

***

Corbett handed Ed a coffee. “Mmm. That's good,” Ed told Harry. “It's French vanilla, 'cause the other day, you said how much you liked it, so…” Corbett cut his own rambling off.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

Then, Harry appeared in the driver’s seat of his car. “I like Corbett. I do. Shows up early, does his job, lot of good hustle out—” Suddenly, Corbett knocked on the window of the car and waved.

Harry awkwardly waved back. “I think he's got the hots for Ed, and that could spell trouble for the whole team.”

The camera cut back to Corbett. “Ed's kind of the more rugged, with that really golden… beautiful sort of beard. Definitely nice. Uh, and Harry's nice.”

While the antics on-screen continued, you reflected on how you’d ended up in this situation.

***

Coincidentally, Dean had always had an interest in busting up the Morton house. According to him, it was your “Grand Canyon” as Dean called it; whatever that meant. And with Dean running out of time, you and Sam were eager to appease him.

When you looked back at the screen, the Ghostfacers had broken into the Morton House, as had you and the Winchesters.

You remembered seeing the van Harry and Ed had driven their friends to the house in as you approached the house with Sam and Dean. From there, you and the brothers were as silent as possible while moving into the house.

***

Either Corbett or Ed had a camera on their head when you confronted them upon your entrance into the house.

“This is spooky, man. This place…” Ed trailed off.

Three flashlights appeared on screen with the three of you in shadow.

“Freeze!” Dean demanded. “Police officers! Don’t move! Let's see some identification.”

Corbett began to panic while you and the brothers confronted them. ““What— are we under— under arrest?”

“We are unarmed!” Ed squeaked.

“Oh, god,” Corbett mumbled, handing his wallet to you.

For the first time, your face was visible on-screen. “What’s with the get-up, Mr…” you trailed off, reading the I.D. in his wallet, “Corbett?”

“I know you,” said Ed.

Apparently, you’d recognized him at the same time. Still, you chose to keep up the act. “Yeah, sure. Lemme see your I.D.”

“Yeah, ho—” Ed snorted. “Whoa, hold on a second. I know all three of you guys. Yeah!”

“What?” Corbett asked.

“Holy shit!” Sam cursed.

Dean hadn’t caught on by that point. “What?”

“West Texas,” you rolled your eyes. “The Hell House. These fuckers almost got us killed.”

“Yeah, the hellhounds or something?” Sam remembered.

“Fuck me,” Dean sighed.

***

Pulling your eyes from the screen, you turned to Dean. “You’ve got a face for camera. Anybody ever tell you that?”

A chuckle rumbled deep in Dean’s chest while the interaction continued on-screen.

***

Ed had informed his friend Corbett that the three of you weren’t cops.

Dean was asking Ed where Harry was.

“He's running around, chasing ghosts,” Ed had told him.

“Okay, well, listen, you and Rambo need to get your girlfriends and get out of here,” Dean grumbled.

“Alright, listen here, chisel chest, okay?”

You snorted at Ed’s comment, both in the video and while watching it.

“We were here first. We've already set up base camp. We beat you.” On-screen Dean rolled his eyes, mockingly telling you, “They were here first.” He grabbed Ed’s shoulder.

Ed’s face paled, and he said, “Oh, god.”

***

You smiled proudly at your boyfriend as you watched the video.

***

“Where's your partner?” Dean growled in Ed’s face.

***

Dean leaned over to whisper to you as the video continued, “You look a little uncomfortable, sweetheart, you okay?”

He had obviously noticed the way you pressed your thighs together. “Fuck you,” you whispered in response. You turned your attention back to the video.

***

Spruce, Maggie, and Harry were poking around somewhere in the Morton House. They’d stumbled across the first of the death echoes you’d encountered that night.

Back in the living room, Dean was interrogating Ed. “What are you doing in the Morton House, Ed— on leap year— what are you thinking?”

“We're here to spend the night, okay? It's for our TV show,” Ed scoffed.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up as the camera turned to him. “What? Great. Perfect.”

“Yeah, nobody's ever spent the night before,” Corbett replied from behind the camera.

“Uh, actually, yeah, they have,” you said.

“Well, princess, we’ve never heard of them,” Harry replied.

“Don’t call me that!” you snapped, stepping up to him. “The ones that have, haven’t lived to talk about it!”

Ed shrank away from you. “Oh, come on, I don't believe you.”

*** Dean leaned down to your ear. “Can you yell at me like that?”

You shoved his head away from yours, cheeks burning.

***

“Look: missing-persons reports going back almost half a century.” Sam was showing Ed the research on the house you’d gathered. “John Graham stayed on a dare— gone. Julie Wilkerson— gone. There are tons more. All of them came to just stay the night through, always on a leap year. The only body they ever found was the last owner, Freeman Daggett.”

“These look legit,” said Ed.

“That’s because they are, dimwit,” you told him.

Sam kept going. “Look, Ed, we ain't got much time here, buddy. Starting at midnight, your friends are going to die.”

Harry, Maggie, and Spruce ran into the living room screaming about the apparition they saw in their bizarre ghost-classifying nomenclature.

“Hey, aren't those the dickheads from Texas?” Harry asked Ed, suddenly noticing the three of you were in the room.

“Alright, let's have this reunion across the street, guys,” Dean encouraged dryly.

Harry spoke over Dean as he continued to urge them outside. “Crap. What are you guys doing here?”

Maggie pulled up footage on her laptop of the apparition which you began to pay attention to. It was of a man in a sharp, 1920s-style suit, who then got blown away by an invisible gun shot.

You lightly hit Dean’s arm to get him to walk away from the group, and Spruce followed the three of you walking off with his camera. “Death echo, guys,” you said.

“Think we’re off on this?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, but what's it doing here? Did anybody get shot here?” Dean replied.

“No, not that we could find,” you told him.

“What’s a death echo?” Spruce piped up from behind the camera.

You sighed and turned to him. “Look, there’s a real problem here. But that ghost ain’t it.”

“What's a death echo?” Spruce repeated.

Dean was clearly exasperated. “Echoes are trapped in a loop, okay? They keep replaying how they died over and over and over again; usually in the place where they were ganked. It's about as dangerous as a scary movie.”

“So the echo’s not our goon,” you added. “Something else is, though.”

“You're right,” Dean nodded. “Alright, we need to get out of here, guys. Come on. Let's go. Let's go. Let's go. Pack it up.”

You helped the boys shove the Ghostfacers toward the door despite their rising protests.

“Wait! Wait!” Ed shouted. “Where's Corbett?”

***

“Oh, this poor bastard,” you whispered to Dean, who shot you an empathetic look.

***

The camera then cut to the feed rolling on the camera attached to Corbett’s head.

“I wish to communicate with the restless spirits here,” Corbett’s voice carried through the upstairs room. Then, the camera and the lights flickered. Corbett switched on his night vision. As soon as he flipped the camera around to himself, a ghostly, looming figure appeared behind him.

The camera cut back to the living room.

***

“That’s not a bad editing choice,” Dean told you.

You slapped him lightly, knowing poor Corbett’s fate.

***

“No man left behind,” Ed was saying on the screen.

Suddenly, Corbett’s scream echoed through the speakers in the garage. You shut your eyes and squeezed Dean’s hand, knowing the unfortunate fate Corbett had suffered.

Ed’s face appeared on screen when you reopened your eyes. “That was Corbett.”

The Ghostfacers were making a run for the second floor while you and the Winchesters protested.

“Guys!” Sam called. “Fuck!”

The camera cut to the remaining Ghostfacers searching for their friend among harrowing screams.

Spruce caught sight of you searching for the missing man. “Corbett!” you called.

“Help me!” Came his anguished reply.

The Winchesters took Spruce and began shoving him down the stairs with the rest of his group, the camera leaving you behind.

Dean made Spruce turn the camera off, which you thought was funny to watch back.

Back in the living room of the Morton House, the group was panicked. They tried to search all of the camera angles while Spruce turned his camera to you and the WInchesters bickering in the corner.

“Well, it’s 12:04, Dean,” Sam told his brother. “You good? You happy?”

“Yeah, I am happy,” Dean grumbled.

Sam continued his mockery. “ ‘Let's go hunt the Morton house,’ you said, ‘it's our Grand Canyon’.”

“Sam, I don’t wanna hear this,” Dean responded.

“You got two months left, Dean. Instead, we're gonna die tonight.”

“Lay off him, Sam,” you grunted as you picked up a chair and smashed it against the sealed front door as hard as you could.

“Whoa!” Spruce cried. “What the hell is going on, guys?”

“Every door, every window, every fucking exit of this house— they’re all sealed,” you announced to the room.

“Wh— Why are they sealed?” Maggie asked you.

Dean took over the explanation. “It's a supernatural lockdown, okay? Whatever took Corbett doesn't want us to leave, and it's no death echo. This is a bad motherfucker, and it wants us scared.”

“Or it just wants us,” Maggie suggested.

The EMF detector somewhere off screen went wild. The camera flickered, and Harry slid up to Maggie to hold her hand.

“Uh, guys, the camera's fritzing again,” Spruce told the group.

“Whoa. Whoa. Guys, the EMF's starting to spike. This is a big one!” Harry said.

“Everybody, stay close. There's something coming,” Sam instructed.

Another apparition appeared before the camera.

“That’s not the same echo!” you noted off-camera.

“Multiple echoes? What the hell's going on?” Dean’s frustrated grumbling came from behind the camera.

“Beats me,” Sam replied.

“Hey!” you cried, waving your arms in front of the echo’s face, form visible on-camera. “Hey, man, you’re dead! Hello!”

“What’s she doing?” Harry asked the Winchesters from behind the camera.

“It's rare, but sometimes you can shock an echo out of its loop if you can talk to the part of the ghost that's still human, but usually you have to have some kind of connection to the deceased,” Sam explained.

“You’re dead, man! Time’s up! Cross the veil, or whatever!”

The apparition flickered and turned around while the screen flickered.

“You guys hear that?” Harry whispered into the microphone.

You kept yelling at the ghost. “Yo, dude!” You jumped in front of it again. “You’re so very dead! Super dead! Wake up!” Suddenly a bright light appeared on the apparition’s stomach, and a train horn approached. It seemed as if the train hit the man as he flew backwards and disappeared.

You had cowered and covered your eyes to avoid potentially being hit by whatever was heading for the death echo.

“Where the hell did it go?” Harry asked.

The camera cut to footage of the outside of the Morton House.

***

“This is getting kinda painful,” Dean whispered to you.

“Absolutely,” you replied.

***

Back on screen, the group was following you, Sam, and Dean with the camera as you peeked around upstairs.

“Dude, there's no records of any of this here,” Dean grumbled. “No one got shot here. Obviously, no one got run over by a fuckin’ train.”

“Stay close,” you ordered the group.

“Did the echoes take Corbett?” Maggie asked from behind the camera.

“Yes. No. I don't know,” Dean huffed. “We don't know what's doing what here; that's what we're trying to figure out, okay?”

“Okay, look, um, death echoes are ghosts, okay?” Sam was now close to the camera and talking into it. “Now, ghosts, they usually haunt places where they lived or where they died.”

“Except these mooks didn't live or die here,” Dean added from a few feet ahead.

“So, what are they doing here?” Maggie asked. “Hey, give the lady a cigar.” Dean turned to the camera. “Alright, seriously, does looking at this nightmare through that camera make you feel better or something? I mean…” He trailed off, frustrated.

A string of disjointed replies ended in, “Uh, yeah. I think so.”

The smirk on Dean’s face faded. “Oh.” He kept walking forward. He led the group into a room where deer heads and kills of Freeman Daggett hung on the walls.

“Freeman Daggett, house's last owner, officially commended for twenty years of fine service at the Gamble General Hospital.” The camera turned to Sam, holding a broken frame with a certificate inside he’d just read from.

“He was a doctor?” you asked.

“Janitor,” Sam replied.

“This looks like his den. When'd you say he died— '64?” Dean chimed in.

“Yeah, heart attack,” you nodded.

“What are these, c-rations?” Maggie’s hand came out from behind the camera to point at a few objects around the room.

“Yeah, army-issued, three squares; like a lifetime supply,” Dean noted.

“God, is that all he ate?” You could almost see Maggie grimacing behind the camera.

“One-stop shopping,” Dean quipped.

***

“Hey,” Dean whispered as you continued watching, “this ‘Dean’ guy’s pretty funny.”

You rolled your eyes. “Egomaniac.”

***

You turned your attention back to the screen as Ed came into view. “Oh, come on, guys. This is ridiculous. I mean, how the hell is this supposed to find Corbett, huh? We should be digging up the fuckin’ floorboards right now.”

Maggie panned over to Sam. “Huh. ‘Survival Under Atomic Attack’.” He was holding a dusty pamphlet. “An optimist.”

Dean pried the safe open in the corner of the camera’s view. “Crap. Crap. Taxidermy. Okay. You said Daggett was a hospital janitor?”

You nodded.

“Ew,” he grimaced. “Got three toe tags here: one, death by gunshots, train accident, and suicide.”

“Oh, shit,” you sighed. “Well, hello, death echoes. Their bodies ‘ve gotta be somewhere in the house, then.”

“Daggett brought the remains home from the morgue. To… play,” Dean explained to the camera.

A chorus of disgusted sounds came from around the room of the Morton House.

Maggie moved the camera across a mirror and clearly startled herself. Dean tried to herd her closer, and the camera landed on you and Dean standing next to Sam. Then, the camera flickered, and you were gone.

You grimaced watching what happened to you. The room the ghost had brought you to smelled horrific, the scene was grotesque, and being in that room with Corbett… it was almost too much for you. You squeezed Dean’s hand at the memory.

Back on the screen, Dean was frantically shouting your name. You almost smiled at the sentiment.

“Where'd she go?” Spruce asked from behind the other camera.

Dean picked up your dropped flashlight. “(Y/N)!” he yelled.

The camera cut again, and as soon as it picked up, Dean was yelling for you again. Sam was, too, and the rest of the group was yelling for you and Corbett.

The camera swung around to face Maggie and Harry.

“God, I am so scared. I'm so scared,” Maggie said. “It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay, Maggie.” Harry hugged her close to him before stooping to kiss her.

Then, the camera cut to Ed in a hallway.

***

Dean grumbled, “Sure, my girl’s missing, but cut to a fuckin’ love story.”

You kissed his cheek. “I’m back now. All good.”

***

On screen, Ed stumbled upon Maggie and Harry. He immediately flipped out. “My best friend... and my best sister. Are you banging my sister?!”

“No! No!” Harry shouted back.

“Hold my glasses,” Ed sneered.

“You got it,” Spruce said from behind the camera.

Ed jumped at Harry, albeit weakly, and the tussle carried on until Dean and Sam came to break it up.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Dean roared. “Cut it out! We're down by two people. (Y/N)! Sweetheart, answer me!”

“(Y/N/N)!” Sam called. “(Y/N)!”

Their voices became distant while Spruce stayed with the group recovering from the fight.

Then, the camera cut to a night-vision camera on the table in the room you’d been brought to.

***

You squeezed Dean’s hand tighter.

***

The camera was lying awkwardly on the table across from Corbett.

“Corbett!” you whispered from off-screen. “Corbett, buddy, wake up!”

“It’s My Party” by Leslie Gore was playing statically in the background.

You remembered the table in front of you had been set with a cake, confetti, and party hats.

“(Y/N)?” Corbett whispered weakly.

“Corbett, hey, you gotta keep listening to my voice, okay? I'm right here. Stay awake,” you urged him.

Off-screen, the ghost murmured, “Don’t listen.” He picked up a knife and moved behind Corbett. “It stops hurting, so don't worry.”

“Corbett, stay with me,” you pleaded.

You knew at that point you were struggling against your restraints.

“Stay with me!” your voice came from off-screen. “I’m right here, Corbett! Oh, god— no, no!”

Daggett stabbed Corbett through the throat.

***

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill these guys, I swear,” Dean muttered to you having watched you tear up as you relived the horror on-screen.

“Dean, it’s fine,” you whispered back. “I’m okay now.” You sniffed.

***

“Corbett! Where'd you guys go?” Harry called on-screen. “Dean, what are you doing?”

The camera pointed to Dean rummaging through Daggett’s belongings. “Okay, so Daggett was a cold war nut, okay? He was— he was an amateur taxidermist. He liked to slow dance with cadavers, and all he ate were c-rations, so what the hell are we looking for?!”

“Horrible little life,” Maggie commented.

“Dean, that’s it,” Sam realized.

Maggie turned the camera toward the younger brother.

“He was scared!” exclaimed Sam. He took off into another room.

Dean followed close behind.

Another camera closer to Corbett showed you on the opposite end of the table from him. On either side of you were two rotted corpses. The smell of that horrible room would never be erased from your mind.

“Get away from me,” you begged on-screen. You struggled even harder against your binds.

“This won't hurt,” Daggett sing-songed. “It's okay. It's okay. Relax. Relax.” He strapped a party hat onto your head.

The camera cut to Corbett, who was slumped over dead at the other end of the table.

***

“I swear, I’ll never forget what that looked like,” you whispered to Dean, referring to what Corbett’s corpse looked like six feet away from your face.

***

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where are you going?” Maggie asked from behind the camera, the video having cut back to Dean and Sam.

“Guys like Daggett back then, the ones who were really scared of the Russians,” Sam explained, “they built bomb shelters.”

“I'm guessing he's got one. I'll bet you it's in the basement,” Dean added.

Suddenly, Dean and Sam were cut off from Harry, Ed, and Maggie while Spruce was with them.

Dean yelled from behind the door, “It wants to separate us! Ed! listen to me! There's some salt in my duffel. Make a circle and get inside.” The group did as they were told despite some minor miscommunications.

Spruce’s camera showed Sam and Dean running down the basement stairs.

The camera cut back to the Ghostfacers getting in the salt circle.

“Harry, listen— listen to me, okay? listen. If we don't die... it's totally okay if you, uh, do my sister,” Ed told Harry.

Maggie pushed Ed from behind her camera.

“Ow!”

The camera flickered again.

“Hey guys, hey guys, it's coming again,” Maggie said.

The group huddled together as the lights continued to flicker around the Morton House, but Corbett appeared in front of them. He was bloody, the wound gnarly and gushing.

“Oh,” Ed muttered. “Corbett.”

Cutting back to Spruce, he had a question for Sam. “Hey, can I ask you something?” “What?” Sam asked.

“Earlier, you said he has three months left?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “A while ago—” Dean cut him off. “No, no, no. We’re not gonna whine about our fuckin’ problems to some shitty reality show. I’m gonna do my fuckin’ job.”

“Is it cancer?” Spruce asked after a moment.

“Shut up,” Dean growled.

“You hear that?” asked Sam, shushing Spruce and Dean.

The camera cut back to you.

“I've been waiting for some more friends. I get lonely. But you're coming to my party, aren't you?” Daggett asked you, his melodic voice haunting.

You were crying by this point and trying to get to the dagger in your jacket sleeve. “Dean, help me!” you screamed, voice raw.

Dean squeezed your hand and traced circles on it with his thumb.

“Is that music?” asked Spruce, the video returning to Dean and Sam.

“Yeah, it's coming from behind this wall,” said Sam.

Dean shoved a cabinet away from the wall single-handedly.

“Wow, you're strong,” Spruce commented.

Dean flipped the camera off.

***

You laughed, but your joy was soon cut off by the camera returning to you.

***

“You’ll stay a good, long time,” Daggett sang, tracing your chin with his hand.

Then, Dean burst through the door to the bomb shelter. “(Y/N)!” He shot at Daggett while Sam untied you.

You hugged Sam briefly before throwing yourself into Dean’s arms. He hugged you close to him and buried his face in your hair.

Spruce panned his camera around the room to reveal the other guests at the party and Corbett, the new addition.

“Oh, no, Corbett,” Spruce sighed.

Back in the living room, Ed, Harry, and Maggie were still in the salt ring. The group realized the poor man was now a death echo.

The camera cut back to you, Spruce, Sam, and Dean.

“What's this Daggett guy's problem anyway?” Spruce asked you.

“Loneliness,” you said.

“What, he's never heard of a Realdoll?” Dean scoffed.

“Shut up,” you snorted. “He’s the… Norman Bates, stuff-your-mother kind of lonely. He threw himself a party, and the corpses he stole were the only ones that would come. If he wasn’t so scary, I think I’d feel bad for him. Anyway, so, at midnight, he sealed them in the bomb shelter and O.D.’d on horse tranqs upstairs.”

“How do you know this?” Sam asked.

“He told me,” you replied.

“Jesus,” Sam murmured.

“Okay, so now that he's dead, what? Same song, different verse, trying to get people to come to his party?” Dean wondered aloud.

“Pretty much, yeah. Stay forever,” Sam nodded.

Spruce paused and pointed the camera down to Sam’s and Dean’s guns. “Are those real bullets?”

“It’s rock salt,” replied Dean.

In the living room, Harry was quietly singing the Ghostfacers theme song to himself. Corbett kept coming in and out of view.

“We gotta try and pull him out of his loop. We have to,” Ed mumbled, more to himself than the others.

Ed stood to face Corbett.

“Ed?” Harry asked.

“Corbett. Corbett, it’s— Oh, god.”

“Don't cross the line of salt,” Harry insisted.

“I gotta do it, Harry.” He hesitated but stepped over the line of salt. “Corbett, listen to me. Okay, I'm not gonna hurt you. Listen. Listen. Oh, god. Corbett. Oh.”

“Get back!” Harry told his friend.

Corbett started to flicker, and Ed quickly moved back into the circle.

***

“This is such crap, (Y/N), they’re profiting off this guy’s death,” Dean whispered.

“Cool it, okay? I’ll handle it,” you said.

***

On the video, Dean was trying to break down the basement door still separating you, the Winchesters, and Spruce from the others.

Sam turned to face the camera. “Seriously, you’re still shooting?”

“It makes him feel better. Don't ask,” Dean responded, out of breath.

The video continued to show the Ghostfacers trying to snap Corbett out of it by playing into the crush he had on Ed while you and the brothers were fending off Daggett in the basement.

Harry convinced Ed to pretend to be in love with Corbett to snap him out of it.

Hesitantly, Ed stepped out of the circle again. “Corbett, look. Hey, it's just Ed, buddy. It's just me. Hey, hey, Corbett, listen to me. Listen to me. I— You meant... Corbett, you meant a lot to the team. You meant— You meant a lot to me. You know, never back down. I remember that, Corbett. I- I remember that. I remember because I love you, Corbett. I really, truly love you.”

“Hey,” Corbett said. “Ed?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Corbett, it's…” Ed trailed off, surprised by what he’d been able to do. “Corbett, yeah, it's me. It's me. look at me. You got to help us, man. you have to help us, Corbett. Please. please. Please help us right now.”

The camera cut back to the basement where you and Sam were holding shotguns and Dean was continuing to try and break down the door. Suddenly, Daggett appeared behind Dean.

“Dean, look out!” you screamed, shooting at Dagget. You missed, and your gun clicked to let you know you were out of rocksalt. “Fuck!”

Dean went sailing past your head into the wall, followed by Sam, and then Daggett kept stalking forward to you and Spruce.

Suddenly, Corbett appeared behind Daggett. In a flash of blinding light, both spirits were gone.

Spruce turned the camera toward you running to Dean and Sam on the floor.

“You okay, guys?” you asked them, helping them sit up.

Dean picked himself up, dusted himself off, and shoved the camera to point toward the floor.

***

You laughed at his sourpuss attitude.

***

The epilogue showed you and the Winchesters bidding the others goodbye with Ed voicing over the background. “Leap year, February 29th, the Morton House. A tragic day. A day of souls bound in torment, of lives held in cruel balance. But the Ghostfacers, they did the best that they could.”

“We lost a beloved friend, but we gained new allies,” Harry continued.

It then cut to the two in their suits again.

“We know this much: that every day, including today, is a new beginning. We learned more than we can say in the brutal feat of the Morton House.”

***

Ed’s dramatic, phony voice was making you angry given the situation.

“You’re tense,” Dean whispered to you. “Relax.”

***

“You know, Corbett, we just— we just like to think that you're out there, watching over us,” Ed was saying back on-screen.

“As far as we're concerned, you're not an intern anymore. You have more than earned full Ghostfacer status. Plus, it would be cool to have a ghost on the team,” Harry added.

“And here we were thinking that, you know, we were teaching you and all this time you were teaching us, about heart, about dedication, and about how gay love can pierce through the veil of death and save the day. Thank you, Alan J. Corbett.”

“Go well into that starry night, young Turk. Go well,” Harry finished.

The camera cut to a clip of Corbett, and you were genuinely saddened for the sweet young man.

“Come on, Spruce, I gotta get all this stuff packed up!” he was saying to his friend.

“So, pack and talk!”

“I don't know what to say.”

“Say what comes to mind. This is one of our confessional moments, Corbett, so confess,” Spruce pressed. “What did you think was going to happen tonight? What do you think is going to happen on this trip?”

“I think tonight, I really do, I think all of our dreams are going to come true. Does that sound stupid?” Corbett smiled.

“Kind of does, yeah.”

“In Memory of Alan J. Corbett, 1985-2008 King of the Impossible,” flashed across the screen, and the video ended.

***

Genuinely, you and the WInchesters were stunned.

All of the Ghostfacers stood and turned toward you, prompting the three of you to stand as well.

“So, guys, what do you think? Are you alright?” Ed asked.

“You know, I kind of think it was half-awesome,” Dean nodded dryly.

You fought a smirk off your face at the thought of the snarky comment that was sure to follow.

“Half-awesome? That— that's full-on good, right?” Maggie rushed out happily.

Sam nodded and spoke evenly. “Yeah, um, I mean it's bizarre how you all are able to honor Corbett's memory while grossly exploiting the manner of his death. Well done.”

In the meantime, you discreetly left a backpack under the computer table. You knew Dean was the only one who’d caught sight of you and that he’d have some questions for you later.

“Corbett gave his life searching for the truth, and it's our job over here to share it with the world,” Ed told the two brothers.

“Right. Well, um, our experience, you know what you get when you show the world the truth?” Sam continued.

“A straitjacket. Or a punch in the face. Sometimes both,” Dean added.

“Oh come on, guys, don't be 'facer haters just because we happen to have gotten the footage of the century,” Harry protested.

“You got us there.” Dean held his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, c’mon, guys. We gotta hit the road,” you said, walking past the brothers toward the door.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, where you goin’, dollface? We didn’t really have much time to, uh, rekindle our connection,” Ed awkwardly flirted, chasing after you.

You scoffed. “ ‘Our connection’? What the fuck are you—”

Dean got between you and Ed. “We’re leaving now.”

Ed backed off immediately. “Yeah! Yeah, okay. You, uh—”

“Shut up already, will you?” Dean grumbled, leading you out of the door with a hand on the small of your back.

“Bye, guys,” Sam told them.

As Dean led you away from the house, Sam turned to you. “What’d you do? We clean?”

You stopped by the door of the Impala, smirking when you heard someone— possibly Ed— scream, “N0!” in the distance.

“Electromagnet. Every tape and hard drive they have is clean,” you grinned.

Sam mockingly sighed, “The world just isn't ready for the Ghostfacers,” as he ducked down into the car.

“It's too bad. I kinda liked the show,” Dean remarked, closing his door after settling in his car seat.

“It had its moments,” Sam noted.

“That theme song is abhorrent though,” you chimed in. “And a total ear worm.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, that’ll be stuck in my head for at least the next hundred miles.”

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