#i got so lazy at the end its not even funny .
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gofishygo · 7 months ago
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just thinking abt ghoap x necromancer! reader.... gang ive got an idea let me cook LET ME COOOkkkkkKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!
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content: dark concept beware !! angsty at the start, 141 is a little mean to you, obsession, manipulation, (allusions to) kidnapping. (blurb, wc527)
there's a new guy who comes in to fill in after soap dies. it's awkward for him- not knowing why the team glares at him like the parasites on a sunfish, the cracks in their manor. ghost seems to hate you especially; you'd been told by some of the newer recruits that he was usually cold, unfeeling- but this wasn't unfeeling. this was him glancing at you at the shooting range than firing multiple shots at the target, him digging his knife into wooden target just that bit harder when he saw you spar.
and then you meet johnny.
it's not too long until you're having full conversations with the freshly dead ghost, gravelly scottish accent and slightly crooked smile leaving your heart warm and full and almost mushy. he tells you stories, ones that the team had always held back from you; what had happened when he'd took prices hat, why gaz hates choppers, and ghost.
it doesn't take more than a few wistful smiles to know who they were to each other, why he'd never looked at you the same.
but unlike the other ghosts of the base, glaring at living enemies with glassy eyes and rabid, foaming mouths holding curses in foreign tongue, he's ... still warm. almost living.
and when ghost finds out you're a necromancer, it starts out subtle . gruff 'have you seen a lad wif' a mohawk' and such being the only queries he'd bare to talk to you for. and you tell him everything- johnny mactavish and the star wound in his head, johnny mactavish and the shiny eyes and the white grin, johnny mactavish and the boyfriend he fawns over. queries turn into questions, and questions turn into long conversations where you're the translator of two worlds. and while ghost swears he'd only ever see you as a bridge between him and the love of his life (or death?), soap can't say the same.
being a ghost has it's perks. you're no longer confined to the bounds of mortality- solid form can switch to material nothingness, being noting in plain sight. and even as a necromancer, you can't feel how he cradles your face when you sleep, how he kisses those tears away when you retire to your barracks. he doesn't let you feel those because he doesn't want you to, not yet.
hasn't forgotten about ghost, either.
and it's okay- he'll get his love on board with you too. leaves images of you in his dreams; the way your nose crinkles when you banter, the quirk of your smile. darkening the corners of his dreams with sigils and spells, rituals of reanimation. it'll be slow, but still in it's worth. he'll find you eventually.
so when ghost's eyes turn as hungry and wanting as the dead you've met, and when you can now feel johnny's pulse, you know something's gone wrong. very wrong.
too bad that there's already a pair of skeleton-gloved hands pinning as another pair wraps chloroform-stained rap around your face before you can pry any further.
and too bad that you can hear the voices of the men you'd trusted trying to soothe your through it.
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soobvape · 2 days ago
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i need brownies so fucking bad rn
#unrelated croomf has pissed me off to immeasurable amounts. reduced back to oomf#overthat#anyway#DY piece tn i need it to go#and also this song is soooo minhui i threw up everywhere#decided for better or for worse that kit will be implemented here instead of in the group w kyun.. kyun works best on his own for me idk#he’s not gnna have a massive part (for now) and i dont plan on him leaving 127 to join BB or anything so he’ll def stay on the side#buttttt i did start up a little gogo piece through his eyes#i rly like the idea of never writing in gg’s pov does that jst make me sound rly lazy#BECAUSE!!!!! IM NOT!!! well i am but not w this hear me out#he puts on so many faces with everyone and even if with some he’s more ‘him’ than with others he’s never really actually#gone the whole way bared his soul the whole shebang to everyone bar like one person. so he’s kinda lonely AS EFF!!!#and idk i js like the idea of him being (when u get down it) a stranger. he doesnt even wanna show himself to the narrative IJBOLLL#sooooo yeah. it does kinda sound like a cop-out 4 if he acts like a different person in every piece but i think ive been p consistent so#that one person was in dream btw.. he left partly because he was bored and felt like he’d end up going nowhere and#partly because he was HUMILIATED by doing all that he needed to pack his bags and get the fuck out its kinda funny#mention ** to him and he’ll look like that pic of that one 2000 yard stare soldier its serious#worse than saying ‘hyeonmin and jaehee are in the same room rn haha’ to yijun.. but barely anyone will ever find that out#ANYWAY! i like to think kit + cherryade are the closest to seeing minhui as he is right after redacted explosions gunshots#‘im on fire and i’ve got to break out’ + ‘i've had enough of this got to break it through’ LIKE ITS HIMMM!#and dont even mention the ‘got to leave all trouble living life on the double’ I HATE THIS OSNGGGG#They made it for him. IDGAF if it came out in 2001.#ok sorry for yapping i might go make toast#Spotify
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natsmagi · 10 months ago
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user natsmagi have u ever tried getting into d4dj...... ? plesae. i got this random thought in the shower a few days ago and im DYING the d4dj fandom needs more artists THEY HAVE CANON LESBIANS PLEASE
OHHHHH I HAVE ACTUALLY PLAYED D4DJ!!! ive never looked into any of the characters though and i dont know anything about the story...!! iirc doesnt the cast feature college aged characters?? bc i feel that demographic doesnt get tackled very often so thatd be very interesting to see!
TBH ive been thinking of occasionally just drawing one big collage of various characters i enjoy outside of enstars (but im lazy and the brainrot is like SO severe) BUT WHO KNOWS!! IF I DO DECIDE TO DO IT MAYBE ILL PICK A D4DJ GIRL I THINK IS CUTE!!! OR MAYBE THE LESBIANS BC GOD KNOWS THEY DESERVE TO BE SEEN!!!
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meetthesoldier · 6 months ago
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im the number one mickbell fan
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itneverendshere · 2 months ago
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addicted to your rafe!! you mentioned in the bartender!reader au that rafe shared his life story after their first time together and was just wondering if youd ever write about it? would love to read about rafe spilling all (in more ways than one hehe) and reader's reaction but only if its something youre interested in writing!!
i was planning on making the smut really cute BUT...it got a little out of hand bc they're both horny so....enjoy!!! but there's fluff i promise. and he spills everything (eheheh)🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️😌🫢 thank you for the request 🩵🫂
i'll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands - r.c (+18)
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: SMUT!!!!; a little angst by the end and lots of fluff.
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It's past midnight, and you’re sprawled out on your bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You’re still in your ratty tank top and sleep shorts, some throwaway show mumbling in the background.
The night’s quiet, a little too quiet, so when you hear a low thump at the window, you nearly jump out of your skin.
But you know that sound. That’s Rafe.
You glance over just as his messy dark blond head pops up outside the window, blue eyes gleaming mischievously. Your heart does this stupid thing, and you’re grinning before you even realize it. You slide the window up quickly, shushing him though you know he’s careful.
"Hi,” You whisper, leaning into him the second he’s in, his broad shoulders blotting out the rest of the room.
“Miss me?” he murmurs back, lips quirking as he brushes a hand through your hair.
“Maybe a little,” You tease, tugging him closer by the front of his shirt. Rafe’s standing there in just a pair of worn jeans and a black T-shirt that clings to every hard line of muscle.
God, it should be illegal for him to look this good.
His hair is still damp at the tips, like he just came from a shower. He leans down and kisses you, his fingers moving to the bare skin at your waist. You’ve been doing this dance for two months now. All hot make-outs that never really go anywhere. Mostly because you’re the one always getting called away for shifts, for family, for whatever comes up.
But right now, right here? There’s no work, no responsibilities. It’s just you and him. And the way he’s looking at you right now, all hooded eyes and smirking lips, it’s driving you crazy.
“Why’d you sneak in, hmm?” You murmur against his lips, playing with the hem of his shirt. He pulls back, just enough to look down at you, a lazy smile on his face.
“Wanted to see you,” he breathes, eyes tracing over me like you’re something to devour. “Couldn’t wait.”
You practically pounce on him, shoving him back until he’s pinned against the wall by the window, his eyes widening for a split second before his hands are holding your hips, steadying you as you sit on his lap. You love it when he manspreads.
It’s so unlike you it’s almost funny, but at this point you’re desperate to feel him. You press yourself up against him, grinding slowly, and you feel the exact moment he realizes just how serious you are right now.
“Fuck, baby—” he groans as his grip tightens, like he’s trying to keep himself in check. But you don’t want him to hold back.
“I’m done waiting,” You breathe, pushing his shirt up and over his head in one quick motion. “Rafe—I’m losing my mind here.” His shirt hits the floor, and you lel yourself really look at him.
All muscle, golden tan skin, the little dip between his abs you’ve fantasized about running your tongue along. You’ve seen him shirtless a million times, but right now?
He’s a goddamn masterpiece.
“I’m so horny it hurts, okay?” You admit in a whisper, almost like you can’t help it. His lips twitch as he leans in, his breath hot against your neck.
You feel your cheeks heat up. It’s not like you’re shy around him anymore, not really, but this feels different. You’re usually more reserved, the one who lets him make the moves, but tonight...you can’t help yourself.
“Sorry baby,” he murmurs as he rolls his hips up, and fuck, you can feel how hard he is already, straining against his jeans, “Want me to fix it for you?”
You know what he’s asking. You’ve had this conversation before—kind of.
The two of you have been skirting around it for weeks now, with heavy petting and breathless goodnights. You want more. You hook your fingers into his belt loops, tugging at him, and he hisses, biting back a curse. 
“Bed” he grunts, half-laughing, half-panting as he lifts you like you weigh nothing, carrying you across the room.
You’re already tearing at his belt by the time you hit the bed, and he lets out this breathless, desperate sound, half-plea, half-growl that shoots straight through you.
“Need you,” You gasp, yanking the belt free, popping the button on his jeans. He’s still standing, hovering over you as you sit on the bed, and you look up at him, chest heaving, hair messy, eyes wild.
“Yeah?” he breathes, and there’s this edge to his voice. You smirk, tugging his zipper down slowly, deliberately, keeping your eyes on his as you push his jeans down his hips.
“Yeah,” You know you have him. He’s yours, and he’s done waiting, too.
Once his jeans hit the floor, he’s on you, all heat and muscle. Rafe’s hands grip your wrists, pinning them above your head as he looks down at you, breathing hard. 
“I was trying to make it special,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost gravelly. “Our first time.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes, he’s so stupidly and unexpectedly endearing sometimes it makes you fall even more.
“This not special enough for you?” You tease, arching your back and lifting your hips, feeling the slickness pooling between your thighs. “I don’t do it for you?”
“Oh, you do it for me, baby. Believe me.” His voice drops an octave, “’M trying to be a gentleman.”
“I don’t want a gentleman,” You quip, your tone playful, “I just want you.”
He wants to give in, but you know he also wants to take his time. “You sure about this?”
“Rafe. My shorts are stuck to my skin.”
He breathes in sharply, head dropping to your shoulder, as he murmurs, “You’re not wearing any panties?”
“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. What’s it to you?” You tease, biting your lip, but you know you’re being a little reckless, teasing him like this.
He’s gonna get you good.
Rafe lifts his head, that infuriatingly handsome smirk still plastered on his face. “So you are, huh?” His voice is low, almost predatory. “You trying to drive me crazy?”
You shrug, trying to play it cool even though it physically hurts not to touch him the way you want to right now. “What if I am?”
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. You arch against him, your breath hitching when he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear and sucks gently.
Your top hits the floor a second later. He’s kissing you again, his hands cupping you through your bra.
“Please,” you breathe, not even sure what you are asking for.
More, closer, something to stop the aching between your thighs. He seems to understand, though. He always does. 
He unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, taking you in inch by inch, “My pretty girl,” You feel a blush creep up your cheeks, but before you can think about it, he dips his head and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.
Your fingers dig into his shoulders, he hums against your skin, the vibration making you delirious. His hand slids down to your shorts, pulling them with an easiness that makes your head spin.
Then they are gone, too, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Rafe pulls back slightly, his eyes raking over your body with a look that makes you squirm.
“Beautiful,” he mutters, almost to himself. “So fucking beautiful.”
“Rafe,” you whisper, reaching for him. When he finally slips his fingers into your panties, you are already trembling. “Please,” you whimper, rocking your hips against his hand.
“Shh,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ve got you, baby.”
He’s touching you, his fingers finding your slick heat and stroking gently. You’re so wet his flingers glid right on. You gasp, hips bucking up instinctively as his fingers move across your folds, teasingly slow and close to your clit.
Rafe smirks, clearly enjoying how wrecked you already are.“Easy, baby,” his lips brush against your jawline. “We got all night.”
You’re past patience.
You grab his wrist, guiding his hand exactly where you want it. “Rafe,” you groan, your voice breaking a little, “I need more. Don’t piss me off.”
He chuckles, “So needy tonight,” he teases, but his voice is tight, like he’s losing it too. His fingers dip lower, stroking where you need him most, and you nearly lose it right there.
He lingers there for a moment, just barely grazing your slick folds, before pressing a finger against your entrance, warm and insistent. Slowly, he slides it in, and the sensation makes you moan—a slow, deliberate stretch as his finger sinks deep inside you. He curls it just the way you need him to, stroking your inner walls. It’s intimate, almost unbearable in how good it feels, the way he’s taking his time, drawing it out like he’s savoring every second. You tighten around him, wet and hot, and he groans softly as he adds another finger, filling you more, the stretch making your legs tremble.
“Fuck,” you whimper, your head falling back as he starts to pump his fingers in and out. The way his fingers stretch you, the wet sounds of him working you open, is filthy and intoxicating.
“Like that, baby?” His voice is thick with lust, his free hand gripping your thigh, keeping you spread wide for him. He’s so strong it makes you want to suck him whole.
You nod frantically, too far gone for words, only able to moan as he quickens the pace, thrusting his fingers in harder. Your walls flutter around him, tightening with every stroke, and you know you’re getting close—embarrassingly quick, but it’s been a while. 
His thumb circles your clit, and the sensation makes you cry out, your body arching off the bed.
“Oh God—please,” you gasp, your fingers clutching at his arm, desperate for more. He smirks against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you’re panting beneath him. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, and he knows it.
His lips brush against your neck, teasingly slow, while his fingers move with purpose, hitting all the right spots. Your breath is coming in short, ragged bursts as your body answers to his. You can feel the heat coiling tight in your belly, and you’re practically shaking with anticipation.
He presses his forehead against yours, his breath uneven, eyes locked on you as if he’s watching every bit of pleasure cross your face.
“Come for me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice just as wrecked, “Let me feel you.”
You’re so close it’s dizzying, you can barely catch your breath. 
He leans in, lips caressing your ear, “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “I can feel you’re almost there. You’re so tight around my fingers—fuck, you’re close, aren’t you?” You can only nod, your breath hitching as his thumb circles your clit with just the right pressure, your hips grinding up into his hand instinctively. every word out of his mouth pushes you closer. “Look at you,” he coaxes, his voice like velvet, “So perfect.”
His fingers twist inside you, hitting that sweet spot, and your whole body tenses. The pleasure builds into a burning coil deep in your tummy, tightening with every movement.
You can’t think, can’t breathe, and all you can do is feel—feel him, feel the way he’s working you. The way he’s talking you through it. 
“Just like that,” he whispers, “You’re doing so good, baby. Let me feel it.”
His thumb presses harder against you, and your whole body jerks up. You cry out, a broken sound, your hips bucking uncontrollably as your orgasm hits you perfectly. Rafe’s fingers never stop, drawing it out, his other hand still gripping your thighs open “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come.” Your body trembles beneath him, the pleasure still vibrating through you, and he’s right there, “Ride it out, baby,” he breathes, his lips kissing your temple, his voice full of pride. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so good. So fucking good.”
You can’t do anything but cling to him as you shudder. He finally slows his fingers, easing you down gently, and when he pulls them out, you feel the emptiness like a loss. You’re still catching your breath, body buzzing from the orgasm he just wrung out of you, but you notice the shit-eating grin on his face as he glances down at his hand, fingers still slick from you, and then slowly brings them to his mouth.
He holds your gaze, never breaking eye contact as he slips his fingers between his lips, tasting you. It’s slow and the way his eyes darken while his tongue sweeps over his fingers makes you whine. 
"God, baby," he murmurs around his fingers, as he pulls them from his mouth with a soft pop, licking his lips. “You taste so fucking good.”
You’re breathless, watching him like you’re in a trance, your heart pounding in your chest. The sight of him tasting you like that, makes your legs open again. He grins, noticing how wrecked you look. “Didn’t think I could want you more,”
You’re still so turned on that you can’t help the way your thighs squeeze together instinctively. His eyes flicker down, catching the movement, and his grin only widens as he crawls back up your body, settling between your legs, “Don’t tease.”
"Don’t worry, baby," his lips skim against yours, “Not teasing anymore.”
You don’t know where you get the strength to do it. But you do it anyways. 
As soon as Rafe settles back, you push him onto his back, taking advantage of his surprised expression, and climb on top, straddling his waist, your hands braced against his chest. You can feel the hard planes of his abs beneath your fingers, and the heat of him pressed against your pussy makes your mouth water. You can feel it building inside you, the need to take him, to ride him until there’s nothing left.
His hands settle on your ass, firm, but not controlling, giving you full reign to take what you want. His eyes are on yours, half-lidded and a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Go on, baby,” he drawls, his voice like honey, “Show me what you can do.”
You don’t even remember pulling his boxers down.
You don’t need to be told twice.
You let yourself brush against the hard length of him, and the sensation alone makes you bite your lip to hold back a moan. His cock is thick, long and hot beneath you, and you grind against him slowly, dragging your wetness along his length, teasing the both of you. You’re rocking back and forth against his tip, dragging him in between your soaked folds and pulling huffs and puffs from his throat as he only grows more impatient by the second.
“Fuck,” Rafe groans, his hips jerking up involuntarily, your clit rubbing against his pubic hair with every movement, the friction doing it for you. His abs tense beneath you, flexing with each of your movements, and the sight of it—of him completely at your mercy—only makes you wetter. 
You lean forward, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the way his muscles move under your touch.
“You like that?” you murmur, your voice breathy, teasing, as you grind harder against him. “Like watching me ride you?”
Rafe’s head falls back against the pillow, all the way back, his jaw clenched, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Jesus Christ,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips tighter, lifting his hips to try and shift his cock towards your entrance.
You lean in, your lips dragging against the side of his neck. He shivers under your touch, and the reaction makes you grin. You start off slow, pressing gentle kisses to his skin, your lips trailing from his jaw down to the spot where his pulse is beating just a little faster, teasing him with your breath.
“Right here?” you whisper, barely grazing his skin.
You can feel his body tense as you speak, a low sound escaping his throat. You roll your hips again, this time letting the tip of his cock catch at your entrance. You’re so wet that he slides in just an inch, and the stretch is enough to make you gasp, your nails digging into his chest. His eyes fly open, and you can see the tension in his body, every muscle tight as he holds himself back from pouding into you, waiting for you to take him fully.
You press your mouth to his neck and start sucking, enjoying the taste of him under your lips.
His grip on is borderline bruising and you love it when another low moan slips out as you work your mouth against him. You make sure to take your time, alternating between sucking and nipping lightly with your teeth, just enough to make him shudder beneath you.
“Shit,” he breathes, his voice strained as you keep going, making sure to leave your mark. With a deep breath, you sink dow, slowly feeling every inch of him stretch you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming—he’s big, almost too big, and it feels so fucking good you almost drool. By the time you’re fully seated on his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, your thighs are shaking, and you can feel the heat pooling in your belly all over again.
You suck harder, enjoying the multitasking, applying enough pressure enough to leave a dark bruise that he won’t be able to hide. His fingers dig into your waist, but he doesn’t pull you away—instead, he’s holding you there, like he wants to feel every second of it.
“Now everyone’s gonna know you’re mine," You manage to breath out, moaning as you grip his chest for support, spit slicked lips parting as you gasp some more, "You feel so good."
His eyes are hooded as he looks down at you, lips parted, breathing uneven. “Yeah?” he rasps, his gaze flicking to your lips before he grins, a little breathless. “Didn’t think you had it in you, baby.”
His hands slide up your waist, his fingers splayed across your ribs, guiding you as you start to move. You start to ride him, slow at first, grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles. The friction, combined with the way his cock fills you, hits every nerve just right. Maybe if it was someone else you’d be embarrassed to be panting like a bitch in heat, but it’s Rafe and you never felt so comfortable during sex before.
Every time you lift your hips and drop back down, you take him deeper, as you work yourself on top of him. His hands slide up to your tits, squeezing gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.
You pick up the pace, bouncing on him harder now, grinding down with each thrust, chasing that high. Rafe’s eyes are glued to you, watching every move you make, his lips parted, his chest heaving with each stolen breath.
“Fuck,” you pant, barely able to catch your breath as you ride him faster, “I want you so deep, so bad.”
He lets out a rough, desperate groan, his hips bucking up to meet yours, his cock hitting even deeper inside you. “I’m right here, baby,” he grits out, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back, “Take what you need. I’m all yours.”
His hands are on you, gripping your ass with a desperation that makes you mewl out. His fingers dig in, rough and possessive, and the way he’s groping you, like he can’t get enough, makes you want to never stop. Each time you move, his hands flex, squeezing and pulling you down onto his cock, it has you practically whining with every bounce.
“You’re driving me crazy. Just look at you, taking me so good.”
His grip tightens as you roll your hips, pushing your ass back against his hands, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. You’re completely lost in the rhythm now, grinding down on him like you’re in heat, the friction of his cock inside you and the way his pubic hairs rub against your swollen clit making you lightheaded.
And then, out of nowhere, his hand comes down hard.
The sting of his palm smacking your cheek sends a shock through your body, and you gasp—half surprise, half pleasure. It’s rough, but fuck, it feels divine. Your head snaps forward, and you moan, the sound coming out needy. 
“You like that, huh?” Rafe growls, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you react. His voice is thick with satisfaction, knowing exactly what he just did to you. “Being spanked?”
You bite your lip and nod, too far gone to be shy. "Yes," you pant, your voice shaky with need. "Do it again."
He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hand comes down again, harder this time, it makes your skin burn and clench around him. The pleasure spikes, white-hot, and you moan louder, your body arching into his.
"Fuck, you're so sexy like this," He groans, watching you with hooded eyes, clearly loving how much you’re enjoying it.
You practically whimper, the combination of pain and pleasure sending you spiraling. You’re riding him like you’re losing your mind, your thighs burning. The way his hand soothes your skin, kneading the tender area where he just spanked you, makes you want to do this every single day for the rest of your life.
You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as he bucks his hips, meeting your movements with his own, driving deeper inside you. It’s too much and not enough all at once.
“You feel so good,” you hiss as you rock your hips faster. His tip hits that perfect spot deep inside you, again and again.
His eyes flick between your face and where you’re connected, and you can tell he’s close too. His grip tightens on you, nails digging into your skin like he’s afraid to let go.
“You’re killing me, baby,” he rasps, voice hoarse, “Fuck, you’re so good. You’re gonna make me come.”
Feeling you wrapped around him like that—so fucking tight, so warm—he can’t fucking stand it. Every time you slide back down, taking him all the way like you're made for it, he feels his mind slipping. It's like he's losing control, just hanging on for dear life, and every little throb around him pulls him closer to his orgasm, it makes him feel dangerously close to delirium. 
He uses one of his hands to grip and knead at the fat of your hip. You let out a high-pitched squeal and clench around him. "Baby," you cry out, pretty tears collecting on your lash line. 
He pinches your chin lightly, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your skin, “You have to be quiet, pretty,” you glance up at your boyfriend, “The walls are thin, and you can’t—”
You interrupt him by leaning down and kissing him sloppily. You swirl your tongue around his, feeling the way his cock throbs inside you as he grinds up into you, hitting that spot every single time.
The sloppy kiss you planted on him shuts him up, but only for a second. His lips slide against yours, his tongue swirling in that messy, desperate way that makes your head spin. He groans into your mouth, rough and low, like he’s losing the control he’s trying to hold onto. His hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, holding you in place as you ride him faster, bouncing harder on his cock.
“Look at you,” he grits, pulling back just enough to watch the way your face twists in pleasure. The way you clench down on him makes him groan, his grip on your neck tightening just a bit as his other hand lands another sharp slap on your ass.“You like when I fuck you like this, huh?”
You whine against his lips, your body trembling as he thrusts up harder, meeting each of your desperate bounces. You can feel the pressure building inside you, ready to snap. 
His hand slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight, quick circles that make you drop your head forward, laying on your body on top of his. You can’t stop the way you grind down harder on him, chasing that final push.
“Fuck, baby,” you gasp, barely able to push the words out. “I’m gonna—”
And then you’re gone, falling into that mind-numbing pleasure as you come hard around him, your whole body shaking, thighs tightening around his as your orgasm crashes over you. You’re clenching around his cock, the feeling making him curse under his breath, his hips bucking up into you as he chases his release.
He rams up into you, full force, his breath coming out in harsh, irregular pants. “I’m right there,” he groans, “Gonna fill you up, you want that?”
You can barely nod, still lost in the aftershocks of your orgasm, but that’s all he needs. With one final, deep thrust, he comes hard inside you, groaning your name as he spills into you. His hands grip you tight, holding you down on his length as he empties himself into you, his whole-body twitching with the intensity of his release
His hands roam lazily over your back, the touch slow, like he doesn’t want it to end. He’s still inside you, softening, but neither of you make a move to separate.
His lips press a few lazy kisses against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he murmurs. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”
You smile weakly, too blissed out to respond, and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. After a few minutes, you reluctantly lift yourself off him, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the loss of connection. Rafe lets out a content sigh, his hands still trailing down your sides as you move.
You flop down next to him, breath still shallow, your head resting on his chest. He immediately pulls you close, his arm wrapping around you, holding you tight.His hand stops moving, resting on your back, and you feel his chest rise as he takes a deep breath.
"My mom left when I was seven," he says, voice oddly quiet, almost hesitant, like he’s not sure where to start. It almost feels like he’s talking to himself more than to you. He’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, one arm slung across his stomach, the other still lightly resting on your waist.
You lift your head, looking up at him, but you stay quiet, giving him space to talk. 
“She just… up and left. Told me she was going to visit some family and never came back.” He lets out a short, bitter laugh, his chest rising and falling against you. “I used to sit at the window for weeks, thinking maybe I’d see her pull up one day. But she didn’t. She never did. And I thought, you know, for a long time, maybe it was me. Like, maybe if I’d been better, she would’ve stayed. I don’t know—kids think dumb shit like that, right?”
You feel your heart tighten at the pain in his voice, and you reach up, brushing your fingertips against his chest. He doesn’t look at you, but you can feel him lean into the touch just a little.
“And Ward… fuck, Ward didn’t know what to do with us. He just buried himself in work, left me to deal with Sarah and Weezie. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I was just a kid myself. I never accepted that responsibility, just kept running away from it.”
You can tell this is hard for him. His hand tightens slightly around your waist, like he needs to feel you’re still there.
“When I was sixteen... I started doing coke. Barry—yeah, that Barry—he used to sell it to me. Just to take the edge off, you know? Numb it all out. Ward’s expectations, Mom being gone, having to pretend like I had my shit together when I didn’t. I didn’t care about anything but getting high.”
He pauses, swallowing hard, his jaw tightening. You can tell this part of his story is the hardest to tell.
“I fucked up a lot. Scared the shit out of my sisters. I’d disappear for days sometimes, come home all strung out, and Sarah—God, Sarah would just look at me like... like she didn’t even know me anymore. Weezie was too young to get it, but Sarah? She knew.” He lets out a shaky breath, “I saw what it was doin’ to them. Saw how Sarah would flinch every time I walked through the door like she was waiting for the next disaster. It got bad—real bad.”
His voice drops even lower, almost like he’s ashamed.
“I didn’t want to be that guy anymore. The one scaring my little sisters, acting like a piece of shit. So I went to rehab. Didn’t tell anyone where I was going, just… left. I needed to get clean, for them. For me, too, I guess.”
He pauses, looking at you now, his blue eyes filled with something vulnerable, something that almost breaks your heart.
“I didn’t think I’d ever get out of it, but I did. Been clean since. That doesn’t mean I’ve figured everything out, though. I’m still... fuck, I’m still a mess most days.”
He’s never opened up to you like this before—not like this.You reach out and run your fingers through his hair, the simple gesture calming him a little. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. 
“You probably didn’t sign up for all this shit,” he says with a half-smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “Me, my addiction, all that.”
He opens his eyes, looking at you like he’s waiting for something—maybe for you to tell him you can’t handle it. But you don’t say that. Instead, you brush your thumb across his cheek, “I signed up for you, Rafe. All of you.”
“I don’t talk about this shit much. Guess I didn’t think anyone cared enough to hear it.”
You move, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can look him the eyes properly,. “I care,” you say, your voice full of conviction. “I care about all of it. I’m here for you.”
He can’t believe what he’s hearing. 
His hand moves to hold your cheek, pulling you down to meet his lips in a slow, tender kiss. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.
“You have no idea what you mean to me.”
He kisses you again, this time deeper, his hand sliding up the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.
His lips trail from your mouth, pressing lazy kisses down your jaw, over your neck. He shifts, pulling you closer, your body molding perfectly to his. “I don’t deserve you,” he mutters, his lips hovering over your collarbone.
You shake your head, resting a hand on his chest. “You do. You deserve someone who’s gonna be there for you.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 
You know this is a side of Rafe not many people see—probably no one else does. 
“Good thing you won’t have to find out.”
“You make it sound so easy,” he murmurs, his lips twitching into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says suddenly, the words spilling out of him in this quiet, almost reverent way.
You can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you as you lean down, pressing a kiss to his nose. “Stop, you’re gonna make me cry.”
He chuckles softly, pulling you closer again, his arms wrapping securely around you. His cheek rests against the top of your head. You’re not going anywhere. And neither is he.
Rafe lets out a disbelieving laugh, running a hand over his face. “I can’t believe your pussy made me trauma dump after sex.”
The crudeness of it makes you roll your eyes.
“Yeah?” You tease lightly, “That what you’re calling it?”
He swallows, feeling that familiar tightness in his throat, but it doesn’t feel as suffocating this time. You’re still here. “No. It’s...you. Just—being you.”
He doesn’t know how to say it any better, doesn’t know how to put into words what it means to finally be seen — not as the perfect son, not as a ticking time bomb — just as Rafe.
But you peck him, simple and sweet.
“I guess I’ll just keep being me.”
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The next morning you’re standing in the kitchen, lazily pouring milk over your cereal, still a little giddy from the night before. Rafe left earlier, before anyone was up, whining about how he wished he could stay longer.
As you take a spoon, your sister walks in with Milo perched on her hip, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Monica stops in her tracks, a sly smile creeping across her face.
“Nice hickey you got there,” she says, raising an eyebrow and gesturing toward your neck.
You choke on your cereal like an idiot.
“Uh, it’s just a... a bug bite! A really aggressive bug bite,” you stammer, trying to sound convincing as you awkwardly touch your neck.
Right, you’d forgotten about that after round three this morning.
She laughs, clearly not buying it. “Right. And when am I meeting him? Are you gonna make him sneak through the window again?”
You can’t help but giggle at the mental image. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Monica rolls her eyes, clearly enjoying this way too much. “What’s next? Is he going to slide down a fire escape to avoid us?”
You smirk back, shaking your head. “Only if you promise not to scare him off with your ‘get-to-know-my-sister’ interrogation.”
Milo, oblivious to the banter, tugs at your sister’s hair. “Mommy, can I have a snack?”
“Just finish getting ready for pre-school, buddy!” She turns back to you, still wearing that teasing grin. “Seriously though, when do I get to meet this guy? I need to know if he’s worthy of you.”
You shrug playfully, trying to keep your expression neutral. “We’ll see. Maybe next time he sneaks through the window, you can just happen to be in the living room.”
She gasps in mock horror. “Oh no, imagine the chaos! I might just scare him away on purpose.”
You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re terrible.”
“Terribly excited! You better let me know when he’s back. I want to be ready to intimidate him.”
“Noted!” You wave her off, still grinning, secretly glad that your sister is supportive—even if she loves to poke fun at you.
For some reason, it doesn’t scare one bit thinking about Rafe meeting Monica and Milo.
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486 notes · View notes
hvhvmoc · 23 days ago
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🖤🖤🖤
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Characters : Art the Clown (Terrifier), afab!reader
Warnings/CW : kinda slowburn, Art almost kills you on purpose, funny stuff, rough smut, wall sex, spanking, hair pulling, overstimulation, choking, pussy slapping, oral (f! Receiving), multiple orgasms, you pass out mid sex, Art is stumped and confused, you're ok tho, talks about blowjobs, bit of fluff at the end, tell me if I missed anything
A/N : I have nowhere to go this Halloween ☹️ just stay home, write and take photos of myself
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Its around midnight, you're in your kitchen cooking dinner. Usually you don't cook at midnight but you were busy all day and it just got pushed back. Plus, your boyfriend wasn't home yet. The infamous Mikes County Killer, Art the Clown. He was taking his usual time out there, spilling blood, guts, and pain, while you were home, working or being lazy.
You're surprised your still up with this much energy. You did wake up really late today, since you didn't have work that day. You took that time to organize the house, clean everything up, shower, maybe even trim your hair with a pair of random scissors you prayed didn't belong to Art- knowing what he does with them- and knowing that although he has okay hygiene, he doesn't properly clean his weapons like at all.
You switch between mixing and checking on the red rice, stirring the big pan of cooking chicken, stirring the smaller pan of cooking beef, and finally stirring the pan of cut up bell peppers, broccoli, corn, and onion. The rice finished cooking and so did the vegetables- the chicken and beef still needed some time- when Art busted through your front door, a scowl on his face, his leg and torso cut up a bit from (what you can only guess) a victim fighting back, and blood all over him. He drops his bag of weapons and goes to find you, the scowl not leaving his face.
That expression would've terrified anyone. But really, you were used to it. The more logical side of your brain knew it was only a matter of time before he treats you like any other victim of his; scalping, cutting, drugging, stabbing, torturing. But you decided to just play along with him. Maybe if you act nice and continue to treat him like this, he'll make your death less brutal. Hopefully. But truly you don't know. Nobody but him knows what's going on in his head. He's like a wild animal; sometimes you can get close and they look still- froze- waiting for you to get close and closer, before they pounce on you and attack. Brutally attack.
Art stands by you, not really doing anything but standing with the scowl on his face, staring at you. You smile and wave up at him, giving him a little "Hi baby", before turning your attention back to the food. There was silence, the only thing making noise being the food cooking.
You feel something cold on the back of your neck. You look up at Art and in the corner of your eye, you see his hand outstretched behind your neck. You can't really tell what it is he has but you will admit, it's scarring you. You tried not to show it though. You know Art loves when his victims show fear. If he has thoughts of killing you, fear will only fuel it.
He lowers his hand while you watch. Now you can see what he had pressed against you. A knife- which is probably the least painful object he owns for killing. You again, tried to show now fear. Your eyes didn't widen and your breathing stayed like before. But your heart is beating faster. That's something you can't control. You just showed confusion. Art drops the knife onto the floor- thankfully missing his and yours feet- and turn around, leaving and disappearing into your bedroom.
Once he leaves, you sigh. What the fuck was that? This isn't the first time he's pressed a weapon against you but it still shakes you up everytime. And maybe that's what he wants. You bend down and pick up the knife, throwing it in the sink. You continue cooking, acting like your boyfriend didn't just hold a knife against you.
You taste test everything, ensuring that everything's thoroughly cooked. When the taste is up to your standards, you go to turn off the stove. As your reaching for it, you hear a loud "honk" right in your ear. You jump and turn around, more terrified than when he held a knife to your neck. Art is there, now fully cleaned of blood, and silently laughs. Hard. And buckles over in laughter and pointing at you. He then puts a hand of his heart and mocks your shocked expression and the way you jumped. You bend over the counter, holding your head and laughing too.
Art comes over and grabs a hold of your waist, wrapping both arms around you and lifting you up. He swings you around a bit and kisses your neck. You laugh as he does, now forgetting about the past incident. "Baby-" you laugh. Art perks up and looks at you. "Go sit at the dinner table, I'll bring out your dinner." Art rolls his eyes and gives you once last squeeze before he lets go and slumps over to his spot on the dinner table.
You serve two plates; Art has some chicken, beef, rice and vegetables, which yours has the same but less beef. You bring out his plate first, setting it in front of him and kissing him on the lips. And go back to get your plate and when you come back and set your plate down across Art, you notice his vegetables are gone from his plate and... on the floor, a very thin, useless napkin covering them.
"Babe." Now it's your turn to scowl at him. Art was some of the beef in his mouth. He looks up at you, dumbfounded. "Why the shit is your food on the floor?" Art shrugs and looks around at the floor around him and looks puzzled, like he's pretending the food on the floor doesn't exist. "Art." You glare at him and he just looks like he doesn't know what you're talking about, doing hand movements to tell you you're crazy.
You opened your mouth to speak but Art held up a finger, shushing you. He points to the beef and then his arm, his eyes questioning. "What?" He does the same again. You shrug, looking confused. Art rolls his eyes like you're the dumb one and points to the beef and then to you and him. "I dont-" Art rolls his eyes harder, throwing his body back in dramaticness too. He points to the beef again, and shrugs, looking at you like it's so obvious to know what he's trying to ask you.
"What is it??" You ask, trying to guess what he's trying to say. Art nods, happily and relieved that you finally got it. "It's beef. It's cow." You say and start eating, taking a bite of the chicken. Arts grin is quickly wiped off his face and he slumps. "What?" You ask and eat. Art does a handmovement to say "oh nevermind" and he starts eating. "I'm not cooking human, Art. Don't even think about it." You scold and Art mocks you in response. You just roll your eyes and eat, forgetting the vegetables on the floor.
🖤🖤🖤
After dinner, you two clean up the kitchen. Art washes the dishes while you put the dishes in the sink and wiping down the counters and sweeping the floor. You have music on, singing along as Art bops his head dances a little to the music.
After cleaning, you two go to your shared bedroom. As soon as your door closes, you pounce on Art. You wrap your arms around his neck and smash your lips against his. Almost like he was expecting it, Art instantly grabbed onto you and kissed you back, using tongue and gripping onto your pajamas.
Art pushes you against the wall, his hands still gripping your hips. Your hands reach behind his back and zipped down the zipper on his clown suit. Art starts peeling off your clothes until you're completely naked. You pull off arts clown fit until he's naked too, just his facepaint and mini tophat on.
Art flips you over so you're pressed against the wall. You open your legs a bit and Art grabs your asscheeks, opening them apart and angling his dick with your pussy. He spits on his dick and slowly slips into you, his hands moving to your hips. You let out a soft moan and press your cheek against the wall, looking back at him. Your full body is against the wall, your ass poking out a little.
Art starts slamming his hips against you, his pace getting rougher and rougher. Your body jolts and you moan louder. With every thrust, your thighs slap against the wall. Art reaches around your neck. He wraps his bare hand around the front of your neck and he flips you two over. His back lays against the wall, one hand on your hips as he continues to thrust into you. He pulls your head back by your neck, squeezing a little. Your hands reach back and grab onto his legs as his pace becomes almost unhuman.
Art slaps your ass hard as he does, grinning at your yelp in response. He trails is hand down, roughly grabbing your tits, then trailing fully down to your hip. He pushes down on your back to make you bend over and his other hand grabs a fistful off your hair and pulls your head back. Art grabs your thighs with the hands that was once on your back and opens your legs more. He then grabs your hand and places it on your pussy, and you start mastutbating yourself. All the while his pace stays harsh and rough like usual.
After a while you warn Art of your upcoming orgasm, to which he replies by slapping your ass harshly a couple more times until you cum on his dick; your fingers still circling your clit and Arts pace not faltering. Art abruptly stops his movements, planting himself balls deep into you. He lets go of your hair, his hands just resting on your hips. You slowly stand up straight again. Art grabs the hand you used to pleasure yourself with, pressing it against his lips and into his mouth, licking your juices off your fingers. His other hand pulls your hair back. He slowly turns to look at you, a grin on his face, and he dives in to kiss your lips.
He lets go of you and peels you off his dick, walking you to the bed and pushing you on your back, onto the bed. Art opens your legs, kneeling between them. He uses his fingers to massage your clit for a while before he raises his hand up and slaps your pussy. Not too hard but enough to sting. When he hears you moan and watches your legs jolt, he does it again. And again. And again. And again, till your pussy was wetter and red.
Art stops slapping you, then leans down and starts roughly eating your pussy. You moan loudly and wiggle a little as he does. He forces your legs open and keeps them there as he makes out with your pussy. You grab his head and push it closer to you, his large nose pressing against your clit.
You grind against his face until you cum on his face and he keeps eating you out. Your body spasms. He finally pulls away and licks his lips, standing up again. He lines his dick up with your pussy, instantly pludging himself into you and his expression contorts at the feeling. He starts moving his hips again, fast.
You cry out in overstimulation, your nails digging into his arms as his hands grip your hips tightly. A single tear runs down your face. Art sees this a grins, enjoying the pleasure- and pain- he's giving you. He licks the tear, biting your cheek a little before he comes back up. Your legs shake and tremble and your face looks disheveled. But Art loves when your helpless like this with him. Because of him.
Art winks down and at you and blows you a kiss. He then slams into you, hard, and stays there for a second, balls deep inside you. Then he does it again. And again. And again. He grins wider and wider with every moan you scream out.
He then wraps his hand around your neck, tightly, and starts up his fast, rough pace into you. Your hands claw at his arm as he chokes you, but not too hard. Well... not at first at least. After a couple more minutes, and a couple more orgasms pulled from you, he grips your neck tighter. Your face is now redder than it's ever been.
Art slams into you, cumming inside you, his grin not leaving his face, his eyes shifting from your eyes to your pussy. Even after he came, he kept going, moving fast like before. Like he had all the energy in the world. He squeezed a little tighter at your neck for a second, cutting your airways for only a second before he let you breath again as he fucked you.
Your body slowly became more and more limp, your eyes getting loopy and your heart racing. Your moans start getting fainter and quieter, which makes Art falter a bit but he doesn't stop. Seconds later your body goes limp and your eyes close. You passed out. Whether that be from the choking or from the overstimulation, you don't know. You just know you knocked out.
🖤🖤🖤
You woke up minutes later, now laying against a pillow on the bed. You have a blanket over your still-naked body and the ceiling fans on. You see Art sitting next to you on the bed, now in sports shorts and a T-shirt. He's looking down at you as you wake up, and you have a feeling he's been like that for the whole time you've been asleep.
Art has confusion and... fear in eyes. Fear for Art is rare. Rarer than rare. Someone like Art is never scared. Confused yes, he's sometimes confused, but not scared. He's watched you almost cut a finger off while cooking and his eyes looked more hungry and like he was holding back than scared for your life. But now he's scared. There's finally some human emotion in his eyes.
You two don't do anything but stare at eachother for some time. Didn't Art almost kill you when he got home? Why does he look worried now? It's like he's not even blinking.
Arts tilts his head, looking down at you. He slowly inches his hand to your neck, lightly touching the red marks of his hand left behind. You turn on your side, smiling tiredly as you look up at him. Art touches your face and raises his eyebrows, still confused on why you just knocked out mid sex. "Ya kno-" you stop talking when you hear your own voice. It's very very raspy. You clear your throat and go to talk again. That didn't help. Still raspy. But you talked anyway.
"A girl can only take so much, baby." You laugh. Art rolls his eyes and mocks you. He's back to his usual self. "Whaat??" You laugh again and wrap your arms around his waist. Art ruffles your already-messed-up hair, grinning down at you playfully again.
"Maybe if I wake up first tomorrow, I'll wake you up with a blowjob." You rub your elbow on his crotch and he instantly gets hard again. You get off him and lay back on the bed. He looks down at you with a frown. "Tomorrow." You remind him. Art huffs and rolls his eyes, getting into bed with you. You two sleep, clinging onto eachother.
🖤🖤🖤
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HAPPY HALLOWEEN
473 notes · View notes
amsznn · 4 months ago
Note
can you do a story about how chris and the reader meet at tara’s party but before that, reader accidentally revealed that she found chris cute and the she went viral for it (idk if that makes sense)
SOCIAL MEDIA FRENZY - c. sturniolo
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2 days ago..
“chat are we enjoying this haul? don’t flame my style in the comment section.” you warned to your viewers on instagram live before grabbing the next package of clothes off the floor, ready to show your 14k viewers the next batch of items. “next youtube video when?” you read off from a comment.
“this was going to be a youtube haul, but i got lazy so..new video this week!”
your rise as an influencer had to be studied. from a random youtube vlog that you made out of the want to romanticize your life a bit and a rant on tiktok people found funny that gained 2.5 million likes caused you to not only receive near to 3 million subscribers on youtube but almost 1.9 million on tiktok.
this was only in the span of 2 years. growing and working to not only please your new fans but to also have fun for yourself as you still decided to go to college for that degree.
social media was just a hobby for you like a lot of people say. but you truly couldn’t expect the new wave of attention you would revolve for a simple comment you made.
the next item of your haul was a fitted cap that you saw at a pop up shop in your city. you recognized it from somewhere else and decided to buy it since it was also cute.
“guys this cap i actually bought because this youtuber, chris sturniolo also wears it in his videos.” at the mention of the social media star your comments flooded. “guys calm down, im not crazy, he’s just cute okay?” you laughed before setting the cap down then moving to the next piece of clothing.
soon enough you ended the live and went on with your day as normal. filming a bit of your vlog for your new video, answering emails from brands, doing some household chores and of course, settling down in your bed with some snacks for your nightly tiktok scrolling.
as soon as you opened the app you got bombarded with a screen recording of your live with the bit where you said chris was cute. it was all over. even on twitter you began trending for the potential new relationship between you and the social media star.
all you could do is read the comments, some encouraging and some hateful, watch edits of you two being shipped, and quickly text your manager profusely apologizing for the mess you just made.
you groaned while rolling around in your bed. sometimes you just forgot you were too well known to be spewing whatever nonsense came to mind.
which brings us here.
at taras party.
since she was inviting influential people, and her friends, you were a definite invite on her list. and you knew either all of one of the triplets would be there too.
you were nervous to bump into chris. would he even speak to you? and if he did would he be uncomfortable or understanding? well you were about to find out in a moment since he was walking in your general direction.
you mustered up all the courage you could and began to walk towards him. feeling the need to apologize to him since the situation was your fault and it must be annoying for him as well.
you came to a stop as he turned his body to fully face you. your breath hitched for moment taking his appearance all in. his black hoodie and black baggie jeans with his messy hair was a lot to take in in person.
either way you were gonna say what you needed to say. “hey, my names y/n. you might know me. or not thats fine too!” you stumble across your words for a minute before taking a deep breath. you could feel his eyes on you but you remembered hes just a person too.
“you may have seen the plenty of edits and a lot of my supporters in your comment sections or dms, and i just wanted to say im sorry since its been going for three days now and you must be annoyed.” you said it all in one breath and finally met the boys eyes. instead of confusion you were met with a look of amusement.
“oh you’re completely fine. honestly i felt bad for you since you were getting a lot of hate for a simple comment.” chris shrugged while giving you his signature smile. you smiled as well glad that he seemed fine with the recent uproar.
“ive heard worse.” chris said while grimacing at the thought which caused you to laugh nodding in agreement. the night went on with you and chris sticking together for the majority of the party. introducing one another to friends, chris introducing you to nick (your new best friend) and overall having a great time. before you left chris made sure to get your number and texted you to make sure you arrived home safely.
you couldnt help the smile that was spreading on your face as you recall the events of the night. maybe making that comment wasnt so bad after all.
walking towards your room of your apartment, you plopped down onto your bed and decided to make a quick instagram post for the night.
and guess who liked the post?
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a/n: i hope yall enjoy this cus i sure did (i was so close to making this into a smut 😭)
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lilsmv1 · 7 months ago
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orange cat - OP81
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Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
Summary: What happens your neighbour's adorable orange cat starts to pay you daily visits?
Word count: 1k
London welcomed me with its perpetually gray skies and damp weather, a stark contrast to the sunny shores of California I had left behind. As I settled into my new apartment, I couldn't help but feel a pang of homesickness for the warmth of home.
For the first few weeks, I hardly saw my neighbours, lost in the shuffle of unpacking and adjusting to my new surroundings. But one persistent visitor soon made himself known – a vibrant orange cat that would perch itself on my windowsill, peering into my living room with curious eyes.
At first, I found it amusing, but as the days went by and the cat became a regular fixture, I grew concerned. Surely, someone must be missing their furry friend. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I scribbled a quick note on a yellow post-it, explaining the situation and tucking it under my neighbor's door. "Your cat seems to be visiting me often," I wrote. "Just wanted to let you know in case you're worried."
Days passed, and I received no response. I wondered if my neighbor had even seen the note or if they simply didn't care about their wandering pet.
But then, one evening, there was a soft knock on my door.
Opening the door, I found myself face to face with a handsome young man, his expression sheepish yet friendly. He held a small box in his hands, the smell of freshly baked pastries wafting from within.
"Hey, sorry to bother you," he began, his accent unmistakably Australian. "I'm Oscar, your neighbor from next door. I just wanted to apologize for my cat bothering you. And, well, to say thank you for looking out for him."
I couldn't help but smile at his genuine demeanor. "No problem at all, your cat is lovely, I was simply worried you might wonder where he was" I replied, accepting the box of pastries. "I'm glad to finally meet you, Oscar" I replied, introducing myself as well.
"Do you maybe wanna come in? I can make us some tea or coffee and we could eat the pastries you brought?" I added.
"I would love that!" replied Oscar with a warm smile.
From that moment on, Oscar and I struck up an unexpected friendship. We bonded over our shared love for his cat and baked goods, finding comfort in each other in the big city of London, so far from our respective homes. Oscar told me all about his work as a Formula One driver, and I could not help but be in awe of how passionate he was. I, on the other end, told him about the teaching opportunity that got me to move here, and I would often tell him cute stories from my classroom.
As weeks turned into months, our friendship deepened. Oscar proved to be not only a generous neighbor but also a reliable friend. Whether it was helping me fix a leaky faucet or lending a hand with heavy groceries, he was always there when I needed him.
Our weekly movie nights, whenever Oscar wasn't out of the country, became a cherished tradition, a welcome break from our everyday lives. We'd take turns picking films, debating over classics and hidden gems late into the night.
But amidst the laughter and camaraderie, I couldn't ignore the growing feeling in my chest whenever I saw Oscar. He was kind, funny, and undeniably attractive – qualities that drew me in despite my best efforts to keep my distance.
One day, as I scrolled through Twitter during a lazy afternoon, I stumbled upon something that caught me off guard. Pictures of Oscar, smiling brightly alongside a beautiful girl with long blonde hair.
A pang of jealousy shot through me, surprising in its intensity. I realised then, with startling clarity, that my feelings for Oscar ran deeper than I had initially thought. But it was too late – I was now pretty sure he was already taken, and I had no right to interfere.
Unable to shake off my newfound jealousy, I began to distance myself from Oscar, avoiding our usual interactions and retreating into solitude. But my sudden coldness did not go unnoticed.
One evening, there was a sharp knock on my door, and when I opened it, there stood Oscar, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern.
"What's going on with you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with hurt. "You've been acting strange lately, and I want to know why."
"I'm not" I replied defensively.
"Come on, don't give me that bullshit" replied a rather angry Oscar. "You've been avoiding me. Have I done something?" he asked, his voice laced with vulnerability.
I hesitated, the weight of my emotions heavy in the air between us. But then, with a surge of courage, I found myself blurting out the truth.
"I... I think I'm in love with you, Oscar," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "And seeing you with someone else... it hurts more than I thought it would."
For a moment, there was silence, the tension palpable. But then, to my surprise, Oscar stepped forward, his eyes burning with intensity.
"God, you can be so dense sometimes" he breathed
"Hum, excuse me?" I replied, clearly offended.
"The girl you're talking about, that's my new PR manager."
"Oh..."
"I thought I was being fairly obvious as to how I feel about you." he said softly, reaching out to cup my face in his hands.
And with that, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a heated and passionate kiss, leaving me breathless.
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takes1 · 6 months ago
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final part asahi x feral reader w/ a size k!nk
skip the intro if you want again, (i marked the beginning of actual smut for ease of navigating) couldn't resist adding some kuroo stuff bc i love writing him even if its not sexual/thirst. this has turned a bit more into porn with plot forgive me i'm simple
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warnings. heavy nsfw. minors DNI
info. nsfw / soft+rough kissy missionary sex / mentions of personal restraint / multiple orgasms / mentions of masturbation / gentle giant!asahi / asahi keeping your mouth shut / mutual size kink / sweet asahi / dacryphilia if you squint / sex toys (vibrator) / kuroo's sister!reader / kuroo cockblocking / kuroo being protective / 3.6k words / thanks for reading this asahi series!! it's been a delight!
haikyuu collection. more hq here! part one here. part two here. part three here.
more links. my ao3. masterlist. requests open!
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You chose some giant clothes to cover the fact that you weren't wearing anything underneath.
Then, with your security chair out of the way, you quietly slipped into the hall.
The familiar sound of Helldivers 2 on the entertainment speakers assaulted your ears. Of course, he got to invite friends over for the weekend.
You padded downstairs, the ache between your legs nearly unmanageable. You clenched your fists at the sight of his lazy ass as you walked behind the couch to get to the front door.
It was funny how quickly he zapped all desire from your body. You did not enjoy sobering up so quickly.
"I thought you said you were staying home!" Tetsurou called as soon as you grabbed the leash off of the rack.
You nearly pulled a muscle rolling your eyes so far back. You shook the thing violently from the doorway so he'd get it through his thick skull that you were literally doing what he texted you to do.
A couple voices muttered something, but your brother spoke volumes above it--
"Wait two seconds, shit-head!"
You clipped the hook into your dog's collar. To Hell with whatever he wanted. You unlocked the door and slipped on a pair of giant, black crocs.
That garbage pile gave you enough grief about your no-plans-plan in the past 12 hours to deserve being stranded on a barrel in the middle of the ocean. He could handle playing games with his friends while you went to walk the dog.
"C'mon, baby," You cooed and closed the door behind you.
It was, thankfully, nice and cold outside. You were glad you opted for some warm clothes.
"Where are my shoes?!" He yelled through the crack in the door. Almost to the end of the driveway, you didn't figure he had the gumption to follow you without them.
You pushed your hood up and pulled the strings.
A stop at the other side of the gate, and you waited for Maru to finish pissing in order to continue the walk. The big, empty street looked a little creepy in the dark.
flip!-flip!-flip!-flip!-flip!
You were glad to not be alone, but still threw your head back when he rounded the corner. His hands were shoved into his basketball shorts and he was shivering.
You both looked down to each other's feet at the same time. He had to put on your flip-flops, so his heels were hanging out the back and his grippers were on the pavement.
A silent exchange went down, one shoe at a time.
Now walking again, you returned to your baseline agitation.
"I don't need a bodyguard to walk the dog."
"Try being a little less stupid, and I'll trust you to not run off with the first guy you see."
You stopped dead in your tracks. "You think this is me sneaking out?"
He didn't respond quickly enough.
You kept walking, glad he was so cold that his teeth were chattering, "You're an idiot--."
He pushed you, unable or unwilling to argue.
"Why would I sneak out with the dog?" You muttered.
Another stop for Maru. It was silent, again, and you were wishing he would just go back by himself already.
"What's that smell?" He sounded ridiculously close to your head.
You looked up and realized that was because he was sniffing your hood. A sudden insecurity of smelling like sex flashed through you.
Pushing hard on his chest, you declared, "Fuck off."
It didn't send him flying the way you wanted it to. It only pissed him off, especially because he knew that smell from somewhere. He just couldn't recall exactly how right now.
You expected him to push or slap you back, so you tensed, but no such move was made.
"One day you'll thank me," He muttered with a grumpy chuckle.
A glance didn't do you any good. It was too dark to see his face.
"For what?" You rolled your eyes again.
It was quiet for so long that you were certain he had just been joking. As if he did anything to help you out, anyway. All he did was piss you off and get in your way.
"For making sure you don't get hurt."
Frustration on the tip of your tongue, you began to retort, "I--," but fell short of the will to say anything back for a minute.
Your glancing around in the dark didn't help you form any thoughts.
Maybe Asahi being so kind was just luck. Not the wise intuition you claimed to be guided by. There were already many times tonight that could've made a turn for the worse, and you hadn't realized until after the fact.
That didn't change how you felt, though, other than some newfound patience for Tetsurou's difficult, demanding nature.
Maru didn't want to go much further than the fifth lamp post, so your small party turned around before you could cross the street.
It was quiet on the way back. Just the jingle of your dog's collar and the flip-flip of these shoes you hated.
You rounded the corner and closed the gate behind you, Tetsurou opting to walk ahead since it was evident to him that there was no danger anymore.
It was just getting to be a comfortable silence when he had to speak up one last time.
"Has this tree always been sideways?"
You genuinely thought it was a joke, so you didn't spare a look when you crossed behind him to get inside. He caught you shoulder the way you hated so much and you swiped your hand to hit him, but saw what he was talking about and froze.
The both of you took a moment, dumbfounded, to stare at your lawn tree. It looked nearly snapped, like a hurricane had come through, but it hadn't rained in weeks. Nothing else was wrecked. Just the tree.
You felt guilty about it for just a second, but rationalized that it had nothing to do with you. You weren't sure what that was from.
"Maybe it was rotted from the inside?" You thought out loud.
He glanced around, suspicion at its full peak, and guided you inside swiftly by your upper back.
Tetsurou locked the door behind you and stayed stock-still, staring through the peephole for so long you didn't bother saying anything to him before heading back upstairs.
At your door, you heard him call to Kenma and Bokuto.
"Did one of you kick that tree in the yard?"
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You collapsed against the door with a soft shut and an even softer sigh.
There was no time to deconstruct everything that was discussed, because your eyes followed a sound that nearly made you jump out of your skin.
The man took up so much of your bed. He was on his back, scarred knuckles brushed slowly up and down, a casual pump to quell his impatient cock.
His hand fit much better around it than yours. In his other hand, held closer to his face, he was clicking a small device- the familiar buzz of which inspired a complete takeover of tension between your legs.
Your embarrassment was no secret, and neither was his curiosity.
"I'd love to use this," He grinned and looked you up and down, undressing you with his eyes.
It took some effort to find the lock on the door and make your shaky way over to the bed. Like last time, he met you at the side.
However, you noticed that before you left, he didn't have the same edge in his brow, or the eagerness that defined the way he pulled you into him.
When you stumbled, he caught you and tilted your head for a restless kiss. He was shoving his hands under the waistband of your pants and humming a sort of approval against your cool lips. It sent your stomach back into those fluttery waves of excitement all over again.
"You should take your clothes off," He muttered, fully immersed in his desire since he never had to sober off of it.
"Yeah- I should," You breathed against his rough, needy lips.
You were slipping back in quickly, though, when he took your lips in a chaste, passionate kiss all over again. His hands were slipping over your skin, discarding your hoodie before you could do it yourself.
His whole body was warm, it felt like he was burning through you when you stepped out of your pants and fell against his front. Like a melting ice cube.
When he picked you up this time and set you down, it was less premeditated, more animalistic. You gave a giggling smile when he parted your legs for him.
Any shyness he had before was long-gone after 10 minutes of imagining what he was going to do to you- you squirmed at his spit-slick fingers slipping over your soaking cunt.
"Still so wet for me," He muttered, pleased, into your hair, while his massive body settled over you.
That intense, near-evolutionary drive kicked in again where you believed you could take whatever he wanted to give you all night. It may have been the smell of his sweat, it may have been his grumbly voice.
"Obviously," You smirked. He grinned at your confidence.
"We can take this slow," He rolled a condom on without wasting any extra time, "I don't wanna hurt you."
The statement floored you for a moment. He didn't notice as he lined himself up with your tightness.
It echoed in your brain during the most contradictory part possible.
He sank into you- it wasn't easy, but after hours of build-up -more if you counted the self-pleasure you couldn't resist before he arrived- it was beyond rewarding to watch all of the stress and worry on his brow melt away in one smooth, slow stroke.
"Fuck- fuck, fuck," You whined, his grasp on your hip reassuring, but still a pen in which you couldn't wriggle from or adjust against, "God-!"
Your thighs twitched on either side of him, forcibly relaxed- you tried to catch your breath, but felt like your lungs were too constricted to do so.
His thumb brushed your cheek.
Patience and gentleness in the midst of it all allowed you to breathe a little easier.
Only kindness, with a hint of pity, remained in his expression as you gasped and struggled to ease up around his cock.
He looked away for a moment, his hand leaving the side of your face, and you heard a saving grace.
Asahi did you the liberty of placing it against your clit. His face lit up at the sight and sound of your newfound gratification.
"I bet that feels better, huh?" He smiled against your parted lips, stealing a few of your moans with an excited kiss.
There was a hard-to-pin inquisitiveness about his attitude surrounding your vibrator. Like he was dying to use it on you, feel you writhe around his still cock.
"Ohh my god-! Ah-Mn!" You cried against his lips.
It was met with chuckle and the slow pump of his hips sinking deeper into you.
It dulled the discomfort of his size, leaving only a feeling of fullness between your legs, a satisfied craving, and the intense waves of pleasure from your clit.
His pretty face and perfect body over you- how could you not just announce your paradise to everyone in the city?
One hand laced in yours, and you took control of your vibrator to swirl it the way you preferred while he picked up his leisurely pace.
He barely caught your high-pitched tone at the combination with an alarmed kiss.
Stalling, he warned, "You gotta be quiet," and leaned to press further kisses against your neck.
He quickly learned that you weren't going to stay that way for him, even if his balls were allegedly on the line.
The feeling of him going deeper, your thighs bouncing from his weight that shifted your entire body, and the building waves over your clit.
"Asahi," Came out in a needy moan.
"Shhh," He cooed, gripping the bottom half of your face to get your focus on him.
The beat of his thighs against the back of yours stole your attention instead- you squeezed against his palm with furrowed brows.
Another noisy cry at his size splitting through you, and he instinctively covered your mouth to shut you up.
He thrust hard into you and stayed there, earning a pitiful whimper, and leaned in close to catch your avoidant eyes.
A mutter against your heated skin, "Do I need to keep you quiet?"
His cock was stretching you beyond your limits- that steely look in his pretty brown eyes was so layered.
You clenched around him, butterflies attacking you now, of all times, at his stern tone, but genuine concern.
A gorgeous smile spread across his features when you nodded, helpless, but honest.
He felt too good- he filled you up better than you had imagined. You were stunned to feel that you were already close. There was just no possible way.
This wasn't how you wanted it to go.
It was too soon- you didn't want it to be over so quickly. But now, of course, you realized you didn't have the physical capacity to take him all night.
You tried moving the overwhelming buzz away from your needy clit, but met the resistance of his hand instead.
He pressed just enough to guide you right to an edge you couldn't pull back from. You whimpered against his palm.
You couldn't tell him you were about to cum. You couldn't move away, or speak, nor did you possess the will to push against him. All you did was claw, weak, across his back.
The look in his eyes responded to your subtle panic-pleasure without a word. A gentle fondness that he shouldn't have been capable of while he gave you his rougher strokes.
He removed his hand from your mouth just to swallow your sounds with a starved kiss, an avid grumble at the back of his throat when you took his tongue so well.
"Mm-!" You squeaked, nails digging deep red trenches into his shoulder.
It was an ultimate submission you never had the insurance to safely experience before.
You got the chance for a gasp before getting cut off -half a second before you could alert the entire house- by his huge palm again.
Asahi groaned as you tightened around him. He quickly shut himself up by flexing away the pleasure and leaning down to pant, warm breath spilling against your ear.
"Shh- I got you," His kindhearted whisper strung you along, crushing you underneath his weight, while he repeated that sweet promise, "I got you, baby."
All your worry of it being too soon dissipated as your orgasm wracked through your entire body and filled you with pure bliss. He fucked you hard and steady through it and didn't even grant you the dignity of looking away from him.
Your chest was tight at the end of it, eyes stinging, and you would've sobbed if he wasn't still keeping you quiet.
He watched your journey the whole time through your eyes, wholly captivated by your big, glossy fixation on him. When you blinked away the burn, he took no time to kiss them away.
Your body naturally relaxed, a twitchy and overstimulating process.
He slowed for you after he sucked the rest of your complicated tears up.
He was so heavy, so adamant on keeping your noise down that you couldn't tell him to stop. You weren't sure that you would try, even if he wasn't hindering your communication. The fact that you trusted him so much right now wasn't necessarily wise, but it felt right.
His growing intensity didn't hurt, but it didn't start to feel good until a raspy voice told you:
"Feels so good," He swallowed the spit gathered in his mouth and seethed, a light chuckle breezing past his lips, "You got no fuckin' clue."
That was just kind of sinful confession that gave you nervous chills even though he was already fucking you senseless.
He studied how your eyes clouded over at his words. A restrained, toothy smile nudged your jaw in a sugary kiss.
"I'm not gonna be able to get enough of you," He finally took his hand off of your lips and you were able to gasp at the impact of his words.
When he readjusted, he swept your legs up to his shoulders and dipped back down.
"A-Ah!" You barely choked out before he moved his hand back to its diligent place over your loud mouth.
He was so deep- you felt like he'd split right through you. Yet, you welcomed the possibility with the blessing of another steady-growing climax.
Yet, only one of you was so careless. He was so tender, so considerate because he could feel it, too. How fragile you really were in this position in regards to his size.
"God," He sighed at your loving stare.
"Gonna- ah, make me cum, lookin' at me like that," He groaned, a bit strained.
He finally dipped his head with closed eyes at the sweet, slick heat he just wanted to bury himself in. He couldn't get too carried away, now that it was starting to get difficult.
Your shitty stamina stroked his ego so much that he forgot he wouldn't be too far behind for a while. He got a bit ahead of himself and was paying for it with the climbing pressure in his stomach.
Your pussy was reason enough to fuck you harder, but that face was what really tested him.
His hand twitched at the compelling desire to hear you scream for him, but again, had to keep his sanity for the two of you. Next time he would make sure that brother of yours wouldn't be in the way.
He tried to keep an edge going, but found it laughably difficult to settle down.
If it wasn't your Fuck-me-harder eyes building up the needing to cum, it was your cute tits squished against your soft, scratched-up thighs, right under his chest.
It was impossible to keep himself from riding that high in the end.
As if to spite him, to completely spend all of his restraint, your watery eyes rolled back again. Your muffled whines filled his ears as you tightened once more around him, weaker this time but still more than enough to send him over the edge.
"G-od,fu-ck," He groaned, hitting just the right spot to fuck out both of your orgasms.
You felt him swell inside of you, his grip on your hand crushed yours back to the point that you couldn't claw him, his hips stuttered to a slow stop, deep inside of you.
A sense of satisfaction beyond the physical softened your face, your resistance between his fingers, and all your aching muscles. You weren't quite sure what it was, but didn't feel rushed to figure it out.
He was trembling when he released the lower half of your face, a beautiful sweaty and out of breath mess on top of you.
Once again, you gasped at the opportunity to breathe better.
He tensed up immediately and you flinched at the twitch of his cock inside of you.
"Shit- was I choking you?" He managed to stay worried right after he came.
You grinned, carefree on the backend of your own, and shook your head, "Mm-mm."
The look of unmatched relief that washed over him was supremely attractive.
He pulled himself out, slowly, and made a face at how much he came before turning to discard the tied-up thing into the trash with a solid toss.
You welcomed his cuddly shuffle up to your side by burrowing into his slippery chest, and sighed at last, "Cute butt."
That, of all things, made him uncomfortable. He cringed when you spared a glance up to his face from his chin. You rolled your eyes at his overthinking.
"You must be an athlete, or something--," You rubbed your face harder into his chest and felt his laugh resonate throughout your body.
It all felt natural. The joking, the cuddling, the winding down. You both forgot that you weren't together, let alone that you had only known each other for less than a week.
It was already warm with him next to you, but you were happy to be under the soft throw he found and pulled over.
"I can't believe you came twice," His soft laugh invited an embarrassed, but sharp look from you.
He clarified, "It's really hot, don't get me wrong--,"
"I'm not usually so easy," You half-joked.
A big, handsome guy that knew how to use his dick, went down on you, listened to you, and didn't shy away from a vibrator? It'd be a challenge to find a girl who wouldn't cum that quick.
You blushed under the cover of darkness at his gentle, comforting hold on your breast and reassuring kiss to the side of your neck.
The ache in your belly was evident when you were flipped over to be little spoon. It burned pretty bad and you couldn't exactly hide it.
"Did I hurt you--?"
"No," You muttered, clearing your throat, "No, I wouldn't say that."
He placed a big hand on your tummy, feather-light, and you looked over your shoulder to meet his perceptive gaze.
You sure as hell couldn't lie to this guy. He saw right through you.
You pouted and gripped your pillow. Of course you couldn't handle his dick the way you wanted to, the way you bragged about or even genuinely thought you could.
"You were so good," You admitted, a little sad in tone.
A warm kiss to the back of your head. He took the weight of his arm off of your sore body, sighing into your hair.
"You were, too."
He decided to drop the subject, since you both had strong opinions that seemed to clash.
You smiled.
You talked about a range of topics for the rest of the night. General information, first, then personal interests that turned into a long conversation about volleyball, then family history, then academics, then personality, goals, and attraction.
Soon it was 4 in the morning. You were eating popsicles from your freezer and discussing the adventure he had to get up to your window.
You both watched, trying your best to stay quiet, a minutes-long video one of his friends sent in the Karasuno volleyball group chat of him falling out of the tree outside.
A hand flew up to your mouth to silence your intense giggle-fit. You had no idea how you were going to keep something like this a secret from Tetsurou.
Before too long, the pain in your tummy was just an ache and the stranger in your bed turned into a lover overnight.
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taglist:
ty for all the replies and reblogs and likes!! it means so much. it's really nice seeing all the other asahi appreciators out here!!
@valiantqueengarden @rinheartshyunlix @alpha-mommy69 @yuyunhoo @insertamazingnamehere
@kreishin
@ruu-https @kasai-https
@40unung @deluluforcarlos55 @lili-harg @beyond-your-stars @noyaskneepad
@rinheartshyunlix @vintagevict0ria @am-3-thyst
<3 u are literally asahi mvp @screamin-abt-haikyuu
masterlist.
requests open!
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650 notes · View notes
5ueckers · 10 months ago
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but i'm a cheerleader
pairing : paige bueckers x cheerleader!reader
warnings : smut. semi–public sex.
notes : this is highkey unrealistic af so don't think too hard abt it! also i got kinda lazy while proofreading and editing, so there may be some errors/might feel a bit clunky at times, sorry in advance 🫠
words : 2148
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xl center erupts with screams and applause as the final buzzer rings out— the university of connecticut’s women’s basketball team, for the tenth game in a row, has come out victorious, winning with a whopping forty–seven points over their competitors.
you jump up from where you’ve been sitting cross–legged at the baseline of the court and shake your bright red pom–poms, yelling out one of your cheers. the rest of the girls follow suit after you, their captain, perfectly in sync as the pep band begins to play the uconn husky fight song.
you’re never not tired as hell at the end of a game— the exhaustion from your halftime performance starting to set in and your head dully aching from your tight half–up–half–down hairstyle— but none of that ever deters you. you’re captain for a reason, bringing sharp precision, clean lines, and high energy to every performance, whether its on a court, field, or stage.
but of course, even the best of best have their weaknesses.
yours has actually landed you in trouble before, just once— you missed a whole count because you were distracted by a pair of icy blue eyes watching you intently from uconn’s bench, her intrigued expression being replaced by a smirk once she realized she’d caused your mishap. coach really chewed you out next practice, but you got got the blue–eyed girl’s number after that game, so it was honestly kind of worth it.
your post–game cheer earns its own round of applause from the remaining fans in the stands, and you bow, shaking your poms the whole way back to the baseline, where your coach awaits you. she offers a few nice jobs and back pats, as well as a fair share of critiques, before finally telling you all you’re free to go.
while the rest of your team head for the cheer locker room, you start toward the opposite direction. “y/n?!” one of your teammates calls out after you, confused.
“go on, i’ll meet you guys later!” you reply, before running to meet paige at the other side of the court, by the stands.
there’s still a large crowd of fans waiting to take pictures and have their jerseys signed by your girlfriend, but once she notices you approaching, she yells out, “alright, y’all, that’s it for tonight! thanks for coming!”
her voice softens when she turns to you and smiles, “hey.”
“hey, you,” you say gingerly, hyper–aware of the cameras fixed on paige, and so also you, by extension.
she nods her head in the direction of the arena’s large exit doors, silently instructing you to follow her.
you keep a safe distance while you’re still in the presence of the fans and cameras and the media, but as soon as you’re both in the tunnel, so dark that no one can see you, paige is all over you. her hands fly to your waist if they’re under the control of a magnetic pull as her lips press to yours, gasping into your mouth. you shudder as you melt into the kiss, into her, throwing your arms around her neck. you part your lips, allowing her to lick into your mouth— you want her to eat you alive.
“you were so good out there,” you tell her once you part, voice breathy.
paige grins cockily, already knowing that she played well, and you can see that your red lipstick has transferred onto her mouth, making you laugh. “what? what’s funny?” she questions, confused but chuckling a bit herself.
you shake your head. “nothing, just—” you point at your own lips, which you’re sure have also gotten smudged. “you’ve got something.”
“ah,” she rolls her eyes, genuinely sounding irked, which only makes you laugh harder. “well, you’ve got something—”
she cuts herself off by simply kissing you again, a light peck, taking your hand into hers soon after she separates your bodies.
high on the rush of the win and each other, you two walk hand–in–hand to the women’s locker room— only to be met with aubrey, crouched at her locker as she finishes packing up her things. if not your lipstick literally being smeared all over paige’s lips, then the flush on both of your faces and the way you freeze and suddenly drop each other’s hands, even though both of your teams are aware of your relationship and you have nothing to hide, certainly tells the older girl everything she needs to know.
she simply stuffs a few more of her things into her bag before heading out, lightly punching paige on the shoulder and laughing as she passes by, “see y’all!”
one you hear the door close, you and paige just look at each other before bursting into giggles at the interaction. “she’s never gonna let me live that down.” the blonde groans, wrapping her arms around your waist again.
you just laugh, falling quiet as you find yourself lost in her eyes for the nth time since you first met her. those eyes will be the death of you, you’re sure of it. she gets kind of sheepish whenever you look at her for too long, avoiding your gaze and blushing— you’re not sure why, she’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. “i love you.” you say, very seriously.
“i love you, too, y/n,” she responds, just as earnest, and leans in to kiss you, only to be stopped.
“wait,” you say, reaching up and finally taking that godforsaken ponytail down, feeling all the tension in your head release as soon as you do. you drop the hair tie and bow to the ground, haphazardly brushing your hair out of your face with your fingers as it falls out of the style.
“god, you’re so fucking pretty,” the blonde marvels aloud, before finally kissing you again.
your lips move together languidly as her hands move down until they’re cupping your ass, kneading the soft flesh in her palms. “paige,” you whine into her mouth, allowing your head to roll back as her lips trail wet, open–mouthed kisses from your jawline all the way down your exposed collarbones.
“yeah, baby?” she replies and then sucks harshly at a particularly sensitive spot, making you whimper.
“want you,”
“here?” she pulls back slightly to scan the locker room— everyone else’s belongings are gone, it’s just her bag and shoes left in front of her storage space. still, someone may have forgotten something and could easily walk in on you while trying to find it. “someone could see—”
you don’t care. you pull paige back in, connecting your lips again, pushing your tongue into her mouth and kissing her with the kind of fervor that makes it impossible for her to deny you. she guides you backwards until your back is pressed to the one navy blue wall that isn’t lined with lockers, her hands feeling you all over.
her fingertips find their way to the hem of your tiny skirt, pulling up until the fabric is bunched up high on your hips, revealing the even smaller red safety shorts you’re required to wear under your uniform. she steps back briefly to give you some space so you can push them and your panties down your legs, kicking them aside, before she slots her thigh between your legs. already knowing exactly what to do from experience, you grind down against her thigh, and it feels so good when you clit drags against her bare skin, you whimper and repeat the motion again and again.
paige uses one hand to hold you steady with a strong grip on your waist, while the other works at pushing up the top piece to your uniform and bra, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the locker room. she immediately leans down to suck and lick at one of your firm nipples while rolling over the other with her free thumb. the sounds are obscene— your moans, paige’s slurping, and the squelch of your wet pussy rubbing against her thigh all coming together to fill the room.
“fuck, p,” you moan, eyes squeezing shut. “so good.”
paige releases your nipple from her mouth with low groan, briefly licks at the other, before standing upright. she leans in, dangerously close and she whispers into your ear, “i can feel it, y’know. you really want my fingers that bad?”
you blush, flustered by her referring to the way your pussy keeps clenching against her thigh, showing how needy you are, but still nod. “need it, paige, please,” you whimper, hoping she’ll give in quicker if you beg for it.
you’re proven correct, because your girlfriend plants a quick kiss on your cheek, murmuring, “anything for my girl,” before removing her thigh from between your legs, dropping down to her knees and crouching in front of you. ever the tease, she starts by kissing at your thighs, whispering sweet nothings into your skin— beautiful, so pretty, good girl, all mine.
and then two of of her long, slender fingers are prodding at your entrance, easing in nice and slowly. your pussy clenches around the digits, welcoming her inside like an old friend, your walls slick and velvety.
you allow your head to tip back against the wall, eyes closing again, “oh my god.” paige knows your body so well, knows just how to angle her fingers and jab at that sweet spot inside you, the one that makes you cry every time. she adds her mouth to the mix, kitten–licking at your clit before sucking it into her mouth, sending shivers up your spine.
“i’m close,” you cry out, and paige hums against you encouragingly, sending vibrations all throughout your core.
what really has you tipping over the edge is the look in her eyes when you finally will yours open, staring up at you with such adoration as she gets you off. you always said those eyes would be the death of you; your kryptonite. you nearly fold over as your orgasm hits you, legs shaking as the pleasure ebbs throughout your whole body, sobbing out your girlfriend’s name.
“you good?” paige chuckles, amused by your struggling. her lips, covered in your cum and arousal, plus your lipstick from earlier, are glistening in the fluorescent lighting of the locker room— the sight is so hot, you almost feel ready to orgasm again. almost.
“y–yeah, i just—” you swallow thickly, heaving. “need a minute.”
paige’s hands grip your hips, holding you steady until she feels you’re able to stand on your own. only when she’s certain you won’t topple over does she let go of you, sweetly kissing you on your forehead when she stands up. “i’ll be right back, wait here,” she tells you, disappearing momentarily.
“dude! i look fucking insane!” you hear her yell out, making you laugh weakly. you figure she’s found a mirror.
she returns with a wet hand towel, having washed off her mouth, hands, and thigh. she’s gentle as she cleans you up, knowing you’re still sensitive. then, she grabs your panties and shorts from off the carpeted floor, bending over and holding them at your ankles to help you re–dress.
“wait, but i wanted to do you, too,” you whine, a genuine pout setting in on your face as you step back into the panties.
paige shakes her head. “when we get home,” she offers. “i don’t wanna… defile this place any more than we already have.”
you laugh, again, at her choice of words. paige helps you get back into your shorts, as well, and you pull your skirt, bra, and top back down to their regular positions, smoothing over your uniform with the palms of your hands, trying to look at least a little bit presentable for when you walk out of here. paige wanders off toward her locker, changing out of her uniform.
finally feeling stable enough to walk, you find your hair tie and bow on the ground, rolling the former onto your wrist. “wait, c’mere,” you wave paige over, just as she’s pulling a fresh t–shirt over her head.
“hm?” she hums as she approaches, but you just motion for her to lean down a bit. she complies, and you place your bright red bow in her hair, right at the top of her ponytail.
“awww,” you gush at the sight. paige just looks at you, trying her best to appear unimpressed, but you can see the smile playing at her lips. “so pretty! cheer captain!”
she spends all of thirty seconds pretending like she’s not enjoying this, before breaking out into a dance, very poorly imitating your cheer routine from earlier. you encourage her, nonetheless, clapping and cheering, “go paige! go paige!”
she finishes with a ridiculously complex move that you’re pretty sure belongs to some tiktok dance learned recently with kk, grinning, “how was that?”
“10/10, hands down!”
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bl00d1nk · 6 months ago
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ꜱʟᴀꜱʜᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ; ᵈᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ
✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:
​🇨​​🇭​​🇦​​🇷​​🇦​​🇨​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇸​: brahms heelshire, patrick bateman, herbert west
​🇼​​🇦​​🇷​​🇳​​🇮​​🇳​​🇬​​🇸​: slashers ofc, brahms lack of hygiene, brahms being possesive, brahms stalking you basically,patrick being a dick, vauge nsfw in patricks, dead people obvi, body snatching, also not read over so if theres any mistakes whoopsies
​🇦​​🇺​​🇹​​🇭​​🇴​​🇷​​🇸​ ​🇳​​🇴​​🇹​​🇪​: first time writing for slashers omds + writing for the first time properly in like a year so teehee also lemme know if you want this for other slashers :PPP also i tried to write this v gn but idk if i acc did so pls gimme suggestions on how to keep everything in my writing inclusive plsss!!! also if ur wondering what "w/" means it just means with im just too lazy to write with teehee
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¬𝙱𝚁𝙰𝙷𝙼𝚂 𝙷𝙴𝙴𝙻𝚂𝙷𝙸𝚁𝙴¬
𖦹 stinky
𖦹 i dont mean that in a funny way like this man fucking REEKS
𖦹 this means you will have to get him to wash himself
𖦹 only perk of that is showering n bathing w/ him, its a real big part of your relationship
𖦹 he likes it because hes close to you and it gives him a lot of comfort and feels really cared for if you wash his hair for him + likes the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp
𖦹 he likes leaving things he thinks you'll like all around the house
𖦹 he found a crusty ass ring he'll think you'll like?KABOOSH!!!!! its on the bathroom counter
𖦹 he also doesn't take too kindly to anyone you talk to that isn't him, he gets really jealous n upset over that
𖦹 this makes him extremly bratty unfortunately
𖦹 prepare for him being in the walls and banging on them for hours on end to piss you off and placing that stupid doll everywhere just to get a scare out of you
𖦹 will literally refuse to do anything for you
𖦹 buttt you can make it up to him by telling him theres nothing to worry about n making him a wee sandwich + giving him kisses, easy peasy squeeze the lemon (im really hoping some of yous got that reference)
𖦹 brahms also likes cuddling
𖦹 a lot
𖦹 you're sitting down reading or on your phone? not without him on your lap nuzzing into your neck having a wee nap
𖦹 you might end up with dead legs by the end of it but hey! it was worth it
𖦹 probably......
𖦹 he just stares at you a lot but dw! not in a creepy way (from his perspective at least), he's just admiring your beauty
𖦹 really likes it when you read to him + it puts him to sleep
𖦹 also loves it when you brush his hair, surprise surprise it also puts him to sleep
𖦹 CLINGY!!!!!!!!! so very very very very CLINGY
𖦹 if you leave the room for a second he will follow doesnt matter if he knows where you're going he will follow
𖦹 gets so upset if you leave during cuddling even if its to pee
𖦹 he will whine n grasp n tug at what you're wearing in an attempt to get you to stay w/ him
𖦹 the time he spends following n watching you could be stalking atp
𖦹 seperation anxiety? he knows her, very well
𖦹 will cry if you leave the house until you come back, n the moment you do he practically jumps you, crying and wailing into your shoulder begging you not to leave him ever again
𖦹 will have no intentions of letting go of you for the rest of the day
𖦹 he also really like sleeping in the same bed w/ you
𖦹 he likes that he knows you're there, you can tuck him in, read to him, cuddle him, give him forehead kisses n comfort him in case he has a nightmare or vice versca
𖦹 n e ways 8.5/10 -1 for stinkyness, -0.5 for well him being him ig
¬𝙿𝙰𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙰𝙽¬
𖦹 before i get into this one i actually hate patrick bateman w/ a burning passion for very obvious reasons so i struggled HARD w/ this
𖦹 alr so we all saw that les mis poster in the opening scene so he deffo would bring you along to watch any high end musicals w/ him
𖦹 SKINCARE!!!!!!!!! he has a whole ass ROUTINE which he will explain to you in great detail and explain why the water has to be a certain temp n why this needs to be put on this way n that needs to be put on that way
𖦹 would let you do skincare on him but beware that he will check the entire ingredients list before you put it on his face
𖦹 its rather boring to listen to but he looks so proud of himself while explaining it, how could you not listen?????
𖦹 he spoils you rotten like its acc so bad
𖦹 you wanted those fancy ass pairs of shoes? they're already in your hands
𖦹 you want a reservation at dorsia? you've got one
𖦹 you literally want anything in the world? you'll have it before you even know you want it
𖦹 he obviously doesn't like people apart from himself so when he found the slightest bit of attraction to you he immediatley became infatuated with you and your life
𖦹 why were you making him feel this way? how were you making him feel this way? was it sorcery? was he going insane? yeah
𖦹 suprise suprise this did lead him to asking you out which led you up to here getting whatever you want
𖦹 hes a jealous fucker i can tell you that
𖦹 especially when he sees you within a 6ft distance of paul allen
𖦹 he storms over and makes some passive aggresive comment toward the two of you and then tries to keep himself cool w/ some swanky inner monologue and eventually drags you away because he "needed to talk to you"
𖦹 spoiler alert, he didn't
𖦹 all this leads to is some rather lewd acts back at his apartment as he tries to reassure himself that he's much better than paul allen and taunts you asking if you think paul allen could make you feel this way
𖦹 rants on to you about his music collection and explains how he thinks this song led them to stardom and someone was an idiot for not releasing this and that as a single and not putting these songs in this album and yadayadaya
𖦹 great if you actually are bothered to listen to him rant on for ages horrific if you aren't, gets quite offended if you don't show much interest in his music
𖦹 i get if if you don't tho, its really something...
𖦹 we all know this man is a complete germaphobe so be absolutley horrifically aware of that unless you fancy getting yelled at
𖦹 he love love LOVESS watching texas chainsaw massacare with you, he loves it when you twos just sit there in silence and cuddle while watching people get brutally attacked n chased, how romantic!
𖦹 finds it funny when you grimace or go 'oh my god' at any brutal scene in it
𖦹 touchy
𖦹 v e r y t o u c h y
𖦹 at any public event he always has a hand snaked around your waist or has his arm linked in yours
𖦹 even in is apartment he still has that hand snaked aorund your waist
𖦹 not a fan of kissing bc he's a germaphobe but because he knows were you've been most of the time he dislikes it a little less
𖦹 prefers giving forehead kisses tho as its quick and much more hygenic than lips
𖦹 god that was tough to write but overall, 7.5/10, -2.5 for being himself. i hate him too much to give him a better rating so ja
¬𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙱𝙴𝚁𝚃 𝚆𝙴𝚂𝚃¬
𖦹 i am so horrendously excited to write this because for the last like 4 days i have not stopped thinking about reanimator, i eat sleep breath the franchise, and herbert west is such a giggle so teehee
𖦹 alright if you're not in the science field or have any connection to dan hes probably not going to take an interest in you as you're not one of his areas of interest
𖦹 if you are in the category of herbert wests interests well done! he tolerates you
𖦹 like patrick would notice how weird he felt around you and would probably blame it on 'primal urges' ew
𖦹 he would most likely ignore them until he can't, and it eventually all bubbles over and he just can't resist inviting you to his basement of wonders
𖦹 he just watches you intently the entire time your there much like brahms does, also not in a creepy way (in his eyes) just admiring you
𖦹 he probably goes on a rather detailed explanation of his work and what he did to get here
𖦹 if you ever feel a lil faint abt all that stuff he just puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder cuz hes a lil awkward
𖦹 lowkey enlists you alongside dan to go steal bodies and experiment on them
𖦹 if you ever get attacked by one of the re-animated he literally doesn't leave your side, mainly to see the severity of your injuries to examine the strength of the reanimated and the other tiny bit because he cares for you
𖦹 has shit talking sessions about dr hill w/ you, it mainly consists of him getting rather heated over the fact he plagiarizes his work and ya know the whole 6-12 mins thing
𖦹 is very clingy with you when dr hill is around as he doesn't want him to make any creepy ass remarks about you so he sticks to your side like he sticks to his research
𖦹 really appreciates is when you cook for him as he's a total basement dweller and doesn't leave it for food
𖦹 so lets say you actually did make something for him he would be really surprised and would be rather amused that you care enough to make him something and he'll gladly eat it
𖦹 also doesn't sleep a lot, so if and when he comes up from the basement he will be taking a nap on you
𖦹 speaking of him taking naps, he'll just plonk on top of you when he wants to take a nap so
𖦹 yay!!!
𖦹 like patrick with music herbert will rant on about science to you
𖦹 at any time, like you could be in bed ready to finally sleep and then he starts rambling about the R.E.M cycle and how benificial sleep is for the body yet he gets absolutley NONE
𖦹 isn't very good at expressing affection for you bc he's herbert so those naps and his rants are actually his way of showing he rlly likes you
𖦹 kissing isn't his favourite thing in the world bc of germs and stuff, so he presses quick kisses to your forehead, nose and cheek such a gentleman
𖦹 but, when herberts all whiny and annoyed at life he will be down for a cheeky make out sesh
𖦹 he gets very flustered after it which is pretty funny to watch so he usually distracts himself with science
𖦹 i genuinely couldn't tell you if he would use petnames or not
𖦹 will use your name 99.9999999999% of the time, just maybe will call you darling
𖦹 just maybe.....
𖦹 n e ways dunno what else to write so 8.9/10, -1.1 for being a body snatcher ig
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omds that was so hard and I was gonna add more characters but i kinda got lazy but PLEEEAAAASSEEEE lemme know what you guys thought ty :3
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holymusicalmothman · 6 months ago
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spencer make my brain go numb like i wanna lazily makeout with him :(
Smosh Masterlist
Aight my lil guys. I’ve been ✨inspired✨. It gonna be short tho
Mkay but I feel like it’s just tender af. Ya know? Like all the time in the world kinda lazy kissing but it’s still absolutely breathtaking. Like. Y’all are just doing nothing on a Sunday afternoon, just watching a movie or smth and like ten minutes later you’re just seated on his lap and oof.
Also. I can’t remember whether or not I know what Spence’s cats names are. I know Damien’s, but I don’t think I know Spencers 🤔 Let a girl know lol
Could be included in my Ian’s Sister AU. This lil fic took me on a journey.
Word count: 500-600???
TW: Kissing!!! Nothing expletive. Established relationship.
******
Lazy Sunday Confessions
What had started as a planned movie date with your boyfriend had slowly turned into a lazy make out session on his couch.
Not that you were complaining. The movie had been quiet and rather slow, so you had found an entertaining pastime in each other that fit the vibe given by the slow Sunday afternoon.
His lips moved slowly but purposefuly with yours, one hand against the back of your neck and the other rubbing circles into your hip through your shirt.
Spencer’s apartment was silent apart from the gentle lul of the tv and soft, breathy sighs. His cats were no where in sight, napping in another room for sure. It was just the two of you.
You could lose yourself in the moment forever, everything outside of your boyfriend was long forgotten. Nothing existed save for the feeling of his lips moving against your own as his stubble lightly tickled your face. Your hands moved from his shoulders upwards to tangle your finders into messy dark curls.
Spencer did something nice with his jaw as he continued to kiss you and you sighed happily, your heart fluttering in its contentment.
You finally pulled away for a moment, and he trailed slow, gentle kisses across your cheek and to your jaw, only stopping when your forehead came to rest against his neck.
How could kissing be so…tiring? You thought to yourself. There was so much more that went into it than you had once thought. But you didn’t want to stop.
“It’s getting late, pretty girl. Gonna be dark soon.” He mumbled into your hair, his hand moving from the back of your neck to brush through your hair.
“‘m t’red,” you mumbled back and you felt him shake in silent laughter.
“If you’d like, you could stay here tonight.” There was a waver in his voice and it betrayed his nervousness. “Just to sleep, baby. No funny business until you say you’re ready.”
You smiled. You really did have the best boyfriend. “It’ll stay.”
You felt him tense in excitement. “Really?”
“Mhm. I finally picked up all the clothes I keep leaving at ‘Manda’s on wine night. I’ve got some sweats I can wear,” you began sitting up. “Just gotta run out to my car.”
“You could leave some of those clothes here, too.” He said.
Your eyes met his dark blue ones.
“I may have already made some space for you in my drawer.” He confessed. “You don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable.”
You had your hands on either side of his face and you were pulling him back into your orbit before he had even finished taking.
He tasted of Kickstart and something so distinctly Spencer that you weren’t sure if it existed anywhere else. The smell of cologne and what was either body wash or shampoo wrapped back around you as the world once more shrunk down to just the two of you.
“I love you.” Slipped past your lips and across his skin and you froze, thinking the confession had been shoved deeper into your subconscious.
But the grin that broke across Spencer’s face could have powered the sun and erased any anxiety you had. It reached all the way to his eyes which had suddenly teared up.
“Really? I’ve been waiting so long to hear that, pretty girl. I love you, too.”
I ran out of steam towards the end there. But I’m not someone who writes anything super intimate, so this was a well accepted and well welcomed challenge.
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princessbrunette · 10 months ago
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toxic ex rafe would pick you up from a bad date no matter how pissed he was at you bc at the end of the day nobody can make you cry but him duh 🙄 he had ur best interests at heart not them! - 🐰
he’s not that toxic really in this but i couldn’t help myself
🫧🦢🪞.♡⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
he’s already rambling as he shows up, rolling his window down as he pulls up into the parking space next to where you stand. “what, this guy doesn’t drive or what? who fuckin’… leaves a girl outside the restaurant ‘stead of driving her home? jesus, this guys got no game.” he complains, all huffy and pissed off because why are you going on dates when you should be with him?
“‘said he had somewhere to be.” you mumble, humiliated as you climb into his passenger seat, fumbling for the seatbelt. when you can’t do it, he sighs and reaches over— pulling it across your body and plugging it in.
“yeah, real charming guy. i can imagine.” he shakes his head, turning to look out the back window as he reverses to turn the car around, an arm on the back of your seat. to this day the action still makes your stomach go funny.
he drives away, and for a moment there’s silence, just filled by the rumbling of the car and your pathetic sniffles.
“sorry for calling you. i know it’s not ideal—”
he waves you off with a lazy hand, eyes fluttering in irritation at himself for being so whipped.
“its fine— i— couldn’t just leave you there. s’dangerous.” he licks his lips thoughtfully before his eyes glance over at you. “what happened anyway? why’re you cryin’ over that nobody?” his nose twitches in disgust.
“you don’t even know who it was, rafe.” you wipe your eyes on the backs of your hands, refusing to look his way. he scoffs, a victorious if not slightly malicious smile on his face.
“you think people at the country club don’t talk? ‘course i do.”
another silence passes, because you’re frustrated.
“he was just so… rude. i’ve never been spoken to like that before… just made me feel like nothing on our first date. it was horrible.” your lip wobbles and he sighs.
“why are you taking anything that freak says seriously, huh? should’a known you were too good for him from the start. now his ego is boosted n’ he’s tryn’a humble you. i know how guys work, baby.” the nickname slips out on instinct and you almost wince. moving on from rafe has been hard, because as problematic as he is — he feels like home, and after the day you’ve had you want nothing more than to backslide and let him scoop you up in his arms and make it better. you sniff, a gentle smile gracing your features as he pulls into your drive.
“so wise of you, what happened?” you joke as he stops the car, head turning to glance at you but getting caught in your gaze, unable to tear his eyes away from your beauty.
“its called maturing, alright? became a man.” he tries to sound nonchalant, but even then its clear he’s trying to prove himself as better. you nod before reaching for the door handle.
“thanks for the ride, rafe. i appreciate it.”
“yeah.” he blinks, not looking at you. you climb out the car, shutting the door and as you begin to walk away, he winds the passenger window down once more, leaning over to speak out of it. “wh— hey.”
you turn around, tilting your head curiously. “cut that guy off. i mean it.” he raises his eyebrows and you nod, still naturally obedient towards him which makes his chest clench.
a week later, you spot your date at the beach with a big black ring around his eye. you wonder where it came from.
🫧🦢🪞.♡⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
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poinsexter · 11 months ago
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7 Minutes in Heaven {obx - jm}
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Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem Pogue!Reader (kinda some John B x reader if you squint)
Summary: pogue!reader gets selected for a game of 7 Minutes in Heaven with JJ—this should be no big deal, right?
Warnings: drinking, smoking, swearing, suggestive flirting, idk? Mild angst. Mostly fluff
Word count: 2,671
A/N: hiii this is my first time ever posting my own lil fanfic to tumblr. I’m sorry if there are any errors:(( I usually write original fiction but this was in my head and I couldn’t get it out. I hope someone gets some enjoyment from it <3 there is a John B alt ending written but idk if I’ll post. Let me know what you beauties thinnnnk:)
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When a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’ didn’t sound juicy enough to the sexed up tourons, a blue-shirt wearing frat bro suggested everyone partake in a game of 7 Minutes In Heaven.  The pogues were never one to back down from a challenge—least of all you, who’d kissed all of your friends at some point or another.
You took a sip of beer from the paper cup in your hand, but not even drowning yourself in drinks could save you as John B and a touron girl exited the closet, heralding your turn next. He wore a lazy, drunken smile, dancing to the beachy music thumping from a nearby amp. 
“Tourons pick the lamest party games.” You hid your bundle of stress underneath a coy joke. “We could be playing flip cup instead.”
“You were laughing when it was Sarah and me.” Kie filed into the room next with a fresh beer in hand, brushing your cheek with the other hand as she passed. “Not so smug now, babes, huh?”
She plopped down on the arm of the chair Pope sat on with his feet kicked up, rolling a backwood.
“Of course it’s funny when it’s not me. That’s how it works,” you said. 
John B’s laugh rang out as he orbited around your back, to your side, appearing in your peripheral. You turned slightly, cup pressed against your bottom lip.
“How about you finish off that liquid courage,” John B used his index finger to tip the bottom of the cup up to goad you into chugging. You tried not to laugh into the drink as you complied, drinking the remainder of its contents. “Atta girl. Now lighten up, buzz kill, ‘cause it’s your turn.” 
You tossed the now-empty cup at his head with a laugh, watching as he swatted it away. “Like you need an excuse to makeout with someone in a closet.” 
“Seven minutes of swapping bacteria.” Pope chimed in from his spot on the recliner as he sparked the lighter. “In the best way possible.”
Kie crossed her arms. “You don’t have to kiss anyone.”
JJ burst around the corner into the room, beer spilling from the bottle in his hand as he caught the last half of the conversation. “Hey, don’t say that! We all have to follow the rules.”
“What rules, JJ?” You rolled your eyes. “The ones you pull out of your ass?” 
“Yeah, I can jot them down for you.” He feigned looking around the room, touching his chest for imaginary pencil pockets as the bottle sloshed in his hand. “Anyone got a pen? Maybe a marker? Crayon, perhaps?”
“Alright, alright, I get it!” You conceded with another laugh. “Pour me up a shot and let me make someone’s day!”
Kie hopped off the couch with a grin and began lining up shot glasses on the counter. JJ’s hand cradled the small of your back while John B approached your other side, watching as JJ poured a messy line of contents from the tap across all of the shot glasses. 
Every pogue picked one up, preparing to throw them back, when John B took the one from your hand and raised a mischievous brow. “Open up, little loverrr.”
You gave a wide grin before obeying the command, opening up your mouth and sticking out your tongue to prepare for the waterfall of liquor. 
John B tossed back his own shot in one fluid motion before pouring the second shot into your mouth. Once the contents were fully polished off you squeezed your eyes shut as an involuntary shiver ran through you, the warmth working  its way down your throat and through your chest. 
“You missed some.” John B grabbed your cheeks and yanked you closer, playfully slurping the backsplash from the skin around the corner of your mouth and cheek. 
“HEYYY NOW!” JJ gave an energetic clap of his hands before pointing at you and John B. “Save it for the closet!” 
You shoved John B away from you with laughter almost as if he were an over-zealous puppy before leaning over to smack JJ’s arm. “Oh please, I know you have your fingers crossed hoping it’s me and you.”
You didn’t interpret the playful action as John B making a move on you despite JJ’s joke. You were all particularly affectionate with each other—and for as affectionate as you were, you also gave each other just as much shit. 
“Alright, it’s TIME!” said Kie, grabbing you by the shoulders and steering you in Pope’s direction.  “Pull the name.”
Pope remained on the couch, but now had a ball cap flipped upside down in his hand with jumbled up scraps of paper inside. He grumbled. “I don’t know how I ended up relegated to this role.”
“Because you’re the most trustworthy,” said Kie. “And the least likely to fuck it up.”
“Can’t argue there.” Pope pulled a piece of paper from the cap. “You will be joined by…” he unfurled the paper. “JJ!”
As JJ looked over at you with that arrogant flirty ease, you couldn’t place why you suddenly felt a spike of nerves. Your feet almost felt as if they had forgotten how to work, with Sarah swooping in to usher you toward the closet, JJ not far behind.
Seven minutes in a closet should be nothing compared to all the drunken nights you’d cuddled up on the chateau’s pullout couch together. The party was in full swing, the perfect time to cut loose, and still, you couldn’t fight the soft apprehension prickling at your palms. 
The closet in question was unlike anything you’d grown up with, but that was to be expected anytime you partied at a kook house. It was more akin to a closet like Sarah’s, though it wasn’t overflowing with near as much color or fun crop tops as hers.
You looked around at the designer labels and scrunched your nose. “God, why do kooks need such big closets?”
“Yeah, I’m not digging all the space between us.” Without warning, JJ slipped an index finger into the belt loop of your jeans and pulled you closer until you were only inches apart. “Much better, thanks for the cooperation, princess.”
“You’re getting way too much enjoyment out of this, it’s worrying.”
“Afraid I’ll bite?” He clacked his teeth in your face playfully, smirking when he couldn’t make you flinch. 
“Biting doesn’t scare me.” You couldn’t help yourself as you pressed in closer to his face, daring him to retaliate. “You’ll have to try harder, Jay.”
He dropped his hold on the belt loop and pressed his hands into you stomach, shoving you against the wall until you back was flush with the surface, caught between the cold of the wall and the warmth of his body. 
“How about now, cupcake? Scared?” He paused and lifted a brow, smirk sweeping up his mouth. He leaned closer. “That toe-curling thing you’re feeling is called sexual tension, my friend.”
Said tension between you was palpable, even after he slacked to give you the space back, satisfied with the effect he’d visibly had on you. Words died in your throat. For the first time ever, you were speechless. JJ, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease, content to chatter away.
“We had our first kiss in a closet just like this one.” JJ looked delighted by the memory. "You remember?”
”Don’t call it ‘our first kiss’ like we were ever a thing.” Your composure faltered, but it was a fond memory nonetheless. “Shame on me for choosing ‘dare’ over ‘truth’—I thought I’d get to do something cool like scale a flag pole, but no. Got stuck sucking face with you.” 
"Okay, ouch,” he feigned offense, clutching his chest. “I've gotten a lot better at kissing since then.” 
You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the heat that was creeping up your neck. "Well, we were like thirteen, so I’d really hope so."
JJ leaned in a little closer again. "I've been thinking about that kiss a lot lately, you know.”
Your walls went up, afraid of being vulnerable. He’d played with your feelings one too many times over the years out of boredom. You used to think when he was flirting he meant it, and that had led to too much confusion. Rather than pine over him forever, you’d grown comfortable with your role of best friend.
Anything more—girlfriend, fuck buddy, situationship—would spell nothing but trouble.
You deflected by teasing him. “You’ve been thinking about a bad kiss from middle school? Find better hobbies.”
“That’s the thing—I need to redeem myself,” he said. “You never wonder what it would be like to try it again now that we’re older? More… seasoned?”
“Don’t be dumb.” Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried not to let it show. "This is just a fun party game, not an opportunity for you to get lucky.”
“What does that cute little tattoo on your ass say again?” He snapped his fingers and feigned as if recalling. “Lucky you.” 
You made a sputtering noise, floored by the comeback. You’d been in a bikini around the pogues enough times that they’d likely all seen the edge of said tattoo, but he would have had to pay attention to read it. 
“God, you are such a shameless flirt!” You picked up a sandal from the closet floor and began smacking him with it. “What is with you tonight? You’re gonna start humping the keg stand before the party is over—“
“I wouldn’t be the man you know and love unless I flirted without remorse.” JJ flinched away from the sandal, laughing at your reaction. "Come on, you have to admit there's chemistry between us."
You felt a jolt of electricity shoot through your body at his words. He was right, but you didn't know what to do about it—so again, you deflected. “You have chemistry with anything that has tits and legs.” 
“Nah, it’s different with us,” he insisted. “And I’ll prove it.”
Before you could respond, JJ took a daring step forward, his hand cupping your cheek as his lips met yours in a searing kiss. It was gentle initially, testing the waters to see what you were okay with. As the kiss lingered, JJ took it as a sign to deepen things, the pace growing hungrier between you.  
Your initial surprise gave way to something more passionate and explorative. Warmth pooled in your thighs as he tangled him hands in your hair, tongue making sensuous circles with your own. It was a moment suspended in time as your friendship burned away, scorching the earth until it became something uncharted. He awoke dormant feelings in you—emotions for him that you thought you’d long buried came rising to the surface at full force like a geyser.
“Seven minutes is up!” John B’s voice rang out.
You barely had time to fall apart from each other as the door pried open. A gasp tore through your mouth, accompanied by a jolt of surprise. For a brief moment it had only been you and JJ - the party on the other side of the door had completely disappeared to you. 
John B leaned against the doorframe, gazing down at the wild blush staining your cheeks. Something like understanding registered in his gaze at the look on your face, but he quickly recovered the cool-guy charm. 
“Either you crazy kids come out, or I’m gonna get serious FOMO and have to join.”
“Squeeze in, man, you’ll love it.” JJ leaned his head against your shoulder and smiled, looking completely unaffected by what had happened. “Plenty of room. Too much, honestly.”
You rolled your eyes, not understanding how he could be so jovial and collected as your heart threatened to pump out of your chest.
“No threesomes in this living room, alright, this ain’t a Hugh Hefner party.” said Pope. “Come smoke this blunt and stop being weird.”
As you exited the confines of the closet, which had felt like it’s own world, you couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if you had been in the closet for even a minute longer. Would hands have roamed further? Would JJ have had time to confess he was just fucking around with you, only he took it a bit farther than usual? You didn’t even know what you’d want him to say. 
There wasn’t enough time to process what was happening or the repercussions of it—only that in the moment it had felt really, really good being with JJ. Whatever the absolute fuck that was about. 
The unspoken tension had found its voice in that kiss, marking the beginning of the end. You didn’t know how you could look him in the eyes again after feeling his hands knotting through your hair. How could a moment change everything? 
You avoided JJ for the next several hours, wrapping your mind around what had happened. If the other pogues noticed, they didn’t call you out on it. Not openly, anyway. Kie and John B were not subtle as they gossiped in hushed whispers, glancing between you and JJ at your two different places across the party. 
Eventually, the drinks caught up to you. Coping with your alien feelings by attempting to numb them with alcohol hadn’t worked, of course, so now not only were you mentally spiraling but had also come down with a bad case of the spins.
To anchor yourself back to the moment, you slipped away from the party, which was just now starting to teeter off from its full swing, and exited out of the back door of the mansion onto a vacant area of porch.
Salty sea and crisp nighttime air instantly offered reprieve to your racing mind as you walked over to the wooden railing of the porch and leaned against it, reveling in the quiet. 
A few minutes later, your quiet was disturbed by the sound of the sliding glass door opening up behind you. You turned to look at who’d followed, heart nearly leaping from your chest at the sight of JJ.  
“Hey, you okay out here?” He stuck his head out of the door, quiet concern on his face. You nodded without verbal response. “Is it cool if we talk for a minute?”
You nodded again, feeling a nervous knot forming in your stomach. You didn’t want to imagine what he would say next. Still, you were both here now, and there was no use in prolonging the inevitable. “What's up?”
He closed the door behind himself. Here it comes, you thought. He’s going to confess that he was just teasing you—it meant nothing to him. All one big, meaningless flirt brought on by his name being pulled from a random lottery. If it’d been John B’s name called over JJ’s, JJ may have never looked at you twice otherwise. Not any differently than usual, anyway. Why did that possibility hurt so much? 
“About the game…” He approached your side at the porch railing, looking less sure of himself than normal. “I know you’ve been avoiding me.” 
Your reply was short. “Astute observation.”
“Don’t do that—don’t shut down.” His eyes cut right through you. “Look, I - I have something to admit.”
You steeled yourself for him to say something that would break you, but you wouldn’t show it. “Don’t leave me in suspense, Jay.”
“I’m sorry if I crossed a line by kissing you before…” There was a pause too long in the air as he contemplated whether or not to say the next words.  “I bribed Pope to make sure he called my name for your turn.”
“You… what?”
“Don’t be mad.” He squeezed his eyes shut as if an admission of guilt physically pained him. After all, his motto had always been ‘deny, deny, deny.’ “It may or may not have been John B’s name on the paper that Pope actually pulled, but I’d slid him a $20 beforehand to make sure no one else got you.” 
The uneasiness in your stomach slowly transformed into butterflies, tickling all the way up your throat until it evolved into belly-aching laughter. He wasn’t toying with you because he was bored or because it was convenient. He orchestrated this. 
The laughter confused him. “Is that – wait – why are you laughing?”
“Shut the fuck up and kiss me again.”
His features brightened, eyes glowing with a new, consuming adoration. He swept you in closer and brought his mouth down to yours, talking against your lips. “God, I’m so glad you said that. Playing it cool has never been my style.”
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reds-writings · 10 months ago
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sunday kind of love
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(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)
a/n: finally a bit of pure fun and fluff! this kinda applies to the jealousy, jealousy universe but it can totally be read as a standalone! requests are open so hit my inbox if you so choose! enjoy!
word count: 1.3k ish (a lil treat)
warnings: light cursing but not much else! the ending felt kinda weak so i apologize for that lol (minors begone!)
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“Y’know…today is supposed to be one of rest…given that it’s a Sunday n’ all. Just in case you might’ve forgotten.” You remarked in your half-drowsy state, your porch swing swaying idly as you lay draped across it like some lazy house cat. 
The day had you hotter than a sinner in church. The sun sat high and bright in the sky, certainly having no mercy on all the melting folk of Louisiana. Even the breeze that had the old wind chimes you’d hung up ages ago tinkling idly in its gusts was relentless in temperature, offering no aid to your sickeningly sticky skin. With the way you’d been running the AC and numerous plugged-in fans in your house over the past few days, you were sure to rack up one nasty-looking electric bill in due time. Even with all that operating nearly 24/7 it hadn’t made much of a difference in the old rickety house. You’d give just about anything right now if it meant not being so grossly miserable and sweaty in all the worst places. 
The only reason you weren’t inside the slightly cooler haven that was your home was because of a certain pigheaded man who decided today would be the day he busied himself with fixing up your lawn. How ridiculous. One offhand mention of the front yard being a little unruly and your flowers looking a bit lackluster had Rust up and working as if you were Pavlov and he the infamous dog. There was no fighting him when he set his mind on something so you assigned yourself the role of making sure he didn’t drop dead from heat exhaustion like a fool. 
“I’m serious, Rustin. We should head on inside. Ain’t no need to get all of this done today.” You called out again, tipping your head to the side and looking over your sunglasses to see that he had now moved on from getting all the lawn clippings into a trash bag to planting some new flowers he claimed would thrive during the season. The way the muscles under the tan skin of his arms moved and the look of utter focus painted on his handsome features had you smiling something horrendously lovesick. Despite his bullish nature, you knew this was just one of his many underlying ways of showing that he cared for you. Loved you even. You could say that now after certain admissions had been made some nights ago and you found yourself no less giddy after the fact as you thought on it what had to be a million times over at this point. 
Some Linda Rondstat tune played from the old radio that sat propped up on the porch’s railing, causing your bare feet to tap in tandem with the country star’s divine voice. Rust continued to work in silence as you started humming, sitting up to then swing your legs off the bench’s edge. 
You flipped your sunglasses to lay stationary at the top of your head, “I’m feelin’ awfully neglected right now, darlin’.”
That had him finally snorting, “I’m sure you’ll live.” 
“You don’t know that. If I were to keel over right this minute cause a certain cowboy won’t give me the time of day, I bet you there’d be some sorta scientific explanation behind it and it’d have you feelin’ just awful. Gutted even, I’m tellin’ you.” You wagged a finger at him as you went on your theatrical tangent. You saw him shaking his head, continuing to work as if that could hide his growing smile from you. 
“You find this funny but I’m bein’ dead serious. I’ve got one of the most handsomest men in Louisiana on my lawn and he’s too busy diggin’ holes in my garden. Those flowers are gettin’ more felt up than your poor girl over here and that don’t sit quite right with me-”
“Quit it, woman.” He cut in with feigned exasperation though you knew such outward declarations of flirting made by you had him more than a bit flustered. You could live out this whole scene forever if you could. It might’ve been hotter than hell but the landscape was lush and beautiful. The weeping willow taking up a good amount of space on the front of your property danced in the light afternoon wind. The sunlight was hitting everything just right and it had you grateful to call this all yours. The man opposing you only added to the fuzzy feeling dancing in your veins. Snapping out of your sappy thoughts of admiration you saw Rust finally get up from his position and make way towards the garden hose.
You huffed out a dramatic sigh as you forced yourself up and made your way down the weathered porch steps. He stood over the new thatch of colorful flora, thumb half over the hose’s nozzle to spray down his hard work of the day. 
“If I quit it then just how else am I supposed to bug you with my affections?”
“I couldn’t tell ya. Shame that is.” He drawled, seemingly amused with feeding into your impatient antics.
Eyes squinting at him, you tried to fight the quirking of your lips as you ambled on over closer to him. 
“You must got some hidden thing for the works of sadism, mister. Leavin’ me hangin’ for hours on end with no-” You nearly shrieked at the sudden cold of the hose’s stream being flicked at you. The offendant stood opposite of you, too smug for your liking as he took in your half-soaked form. The old tank top and denim cutoffs you had on already left little to the imagination prior to his attack, you could only imagine the form of indecency you found yourself in now. 
“Oh, that’s it. C’mere you little- HEY!” You screeched as the cold spray hit you again. The momentum with which you charged at him had water flying between you both when he got you again. You wrestled each other for the hose, causing more than enough of a mess in the process. The joy in your laughter had Rust’s chest squeezing almost painfully. The stretch of his grin felt foreign to him but he couldn’t manage to control himself. 
As you made numerous attempts to jump up and snatch the tubing from his grip you overestimated your step and slipped on the newly muddied grass, causing you both to topple over. Your belly ached from how hard you found yourself laughing. You almost felt like a child again, drenched beyond belief with streaks of mud and grass finding a new home on your body. A few deep rumbles sounded from the depths of Rust’s broad chest as he pushed some of the sopping-wet hair from your face, looking at you as if you were the only thing in the world that made sense to him. As if you were all the answers to his universe wrapped up into one person. The intensity had you knocking his chin with your knuckles softly and wiping some water from his face. 
“You’re an ass, y’know that?”
“And you’re one sore loser.” 
“Loser?! I’ll have you know I managed to take your lanky ass down in one fell swoop-” 
You were silenced by the sudden press of his kiss. It was hard to reciprocate as you felt yourself smiling harder but he persisted despite the clumsiness of it all. Moments like these were something you’d never take for granted. Any chance to see the man in front of you free of all of his persistent burdens, even if just for a moment, were times you could hold on to forever. You felt nothing short of lucky that he let you in. That you were able to cross paths and choose each other in this life. 
You had a feeling there were probably other lifetimes in which you danced this similar dance as different people or different beings. Destined to always find your way back to each other come hell or high water.  Damn. Rust's daily cosmic ramblings and otherworldy mumbo jumbo were starting to really get to you.
Though you couldn't help but wonder if he happened to feel it too.
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a/n: late night post but we love silliness and laughter! as always feedback is greatly appreciated! hopefully, this wasn't too ooc!
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boozenboze · 1 year ago
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Its A Scream Baby!
(Halloween Special)
Tf!141 x GhostFace!Male reader
Summary: It’s been a few weeks since C/n’s arrival to the base. Something about him is just odd, and a few twisted events lead to a certain discovery.
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Females DNI
A few weeks had passed since the new guy had come in, and hell has he already made a name for himself. He was charming, mysterious, cunning, hell he was everything anyone could ask for. From day one, other sergeants, Gaz and Soap included, went out of their way to talk to him. Their reasoning to get close to the man was different though.
_______
“Never trust the new guy”, pretty suspect for someone to say when its their first day on the base. Hell its weird to say in general, especially to others.
It’s quite clear that Gaz and Soap felt a bit uneasy after their first encounter, especially when theres an odd feeling that they met the guy somewhere before. Neither of them knew what it was, but maybe it was the way the male carried himself. There was also a brief amount of familiarity when Gaz stared into the same pair of e/c eyes he had saw at the bar that night.
He relayed it to Soap that this may be the same guy from that night, the night where that woman was murdered, and SCREAM got away. It wasn’t clear from the beginning what the man wanted, but from the targeted attacks on the politicians and then that woman. It was obvious the guy was targeting people with a purpose.
______
Today was going normal, soldiers being deployed, rookies being trained, and some being lazy pieces of shit. A soldier could be seen talking to one of the other sergeants, both of them smirking and laughing together until he said his goodbyes.
He made his way back to his barracks, which was at the end of long hallway. Some of the lights hadn’t been working properly, and maintenance hadn’t been able to come on base due to some bullshit reason. The sergeants footsteps echoed throughout the hallway, and when he was halfway down he turned around.
It was odd, despite knowing that he was safe within the base, he had an odd feeling he was being followed. There was no one there, but it felt like the atmosphere was changing. The walls felt as if they were closing in, so he decided to keep walking. Sweat trickled down his forehead, the feeling not going away at all. It felt like the halls had gotten much longer.
He let out a startled noise when the lights went out. He looked around frantically, heart now pounded in his chest. He looked behind him and saw nothing again. Well. That was until the lights came back on. It was a fairly tall person, staring back at him with a….ghost mask?
“H-hey man, very funny.” The startled soldier said, looking at the other figure at the end of the hall. The tension only thickened when there was no response. They just stood there, and from what it looked like this wasn’t even a soldier due to the lack of tactical gear they had on. The soldier’s fear diminished, annoyance now replacing it as he huffed.
“Ok asshole! Your not funny!” The soldier yelled again, still not getting a response.
“Whatever..” The soldier said, turning around to keep walking. Maybe he was scared for nothing, this was just some asshole in a costume trying to scare people. The lights flickered again, making the sergeant turn around again. The figure was still there, only this time he was way closer. With a groan of obvious, aggravation, and a bit of aggression he yelled out again.
“Ok ya piece of shit, ya wanna go!?” The sergeant yelled out, voice echoing through the hall. “Come on! You can do shit like this so why don’t we-“
He stopped speaking, a flash of silver showing in the figures hand. It was a knife, more specifically a hunting knife. He looked at the figure, eyes widened as he stared back. He pulled out his gun and pointed it at the opposing masked individual.
“Don’t try anything, I have a gun.” The man spoke, trying to stay confident in the situation. His grip on the weapon tightened when the masked male began approaching him. The hooded robe with the faux tatters made the masked man much more intimidating, making the sergeant back away.
“S-stop it, I-i’ll shoot you!” The sergeant yelled, backing up despite having the clear upperhand. He shrieked when the figure ran at him, he let off a few rounds, missing each one of them. A thud was heard as his body hit the ground, the masked figure having tackled him. His attacker was now seated in his lap, looking down at him. He tilted his head, looking down at the frightened soldier beneath him.
“Whats wrong soldier, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” A distorted, and robotic voice spoke. The sergeant tensed up, watching the man above him twirl his knife with ease between his fingers.
He brought the knife to his face, dragging it along the skin of the other soldier’s face. The cool metal of the knife made the soldier whimper, fear in his eyes as he looked up at the man.
“D-don’t, h-hurt me.” The sergeant stuttered, feeling the knife travel down from his face o his neck, making his breath hitch.
“Oh you don’t even have to worry about that, the pain will be over quite fast.” The masked man spoke again, pulling out a small Polaroid camera. The soldier beneath him furrowed his brows in confusion, though it was quickly replaced with one of pain as the knife pierced into his stomach. His glasses flew off his face as he flailed beneath the man who was stabbing him repeatedly.
“AGGh!-“ The man screamed, spazzing under the masked man whose hand was still on the knife, the other holding the camera. He yanked the knife out, stabbing the soldier again, and again, and again, and again, in different spots. Blood was now painting the floor, and the soldier looked as if he was already of the brink of death.
He choked on his blood, the thick substance bubbling from his throat. He coughed, in attempts not to choke on his own blood.
“W-why…” His voice croaked, looking at the masked man who was now standing above him. He glued his eyes shut when a sudden white flash met his gaze. His attacker having taken a picture of him in his dying state.
“You guys really think your that sneaky eh?” The masked man spoke, mockery in his tone. The dying soldier looked confused, wondering what the man was on about. The look on his face when his tag was pulled out. The card that had all the information he and a few other spies had.
“I rest my case.” The distorted voice said, pocketing the tag again. He then took his knife out again, stabbing the now identified spy. With one foul slash, he cut the man’s throat wide open.
He stared at his work, not very satisfied in what he wad done. He hadn’t gone far enough in his eyes.
———-
“How the hell did this happen.” Soap asked, pacing around the room, wondering why a soldier was suddenly brutally attacked. Better yet, how did the security cameras not capture the footage of the bastard who had done it. To make matters worse, pictures of the attack had been left behind by the attacker.
It was so sick, the mans guts having been splayed all over the hallway near the barracks. Images of the mans facial expressions when he was being stabbed, and to top it off a smile had been carved into the soldiers face.
Gaz and Price were examining the photos, several of them having been left behind. Some of them were blurry, having not developed properly after the photo was taken. There was one thing that caught Gaz’s attention. The sergeant that had been attacked was wearing glasses, and the reflection of a certain man was shown.
Price looked at Gaz, who seemed to have froze immediately after looking at the photo.
“Something wrong there sergeant?” Price asked, leaning over to look at the photo himself. He was confused, not entirely sure what Gaz seemed to he staring at…..That was until the brown skinned man put the photo closer to his face. Now he could see why he got so tense.
“SCREAM…” Price spoke, catching Ghost and Soap’s attention. Both men approached the table, Ghost taking the photo and looking at it himself.
“Bloody fucking hell.” Ghost spoke, Manchester accent more rough than before. The Scottish man heard enough, wanting to get ro the bottom of this. Everything was fine these last few weeks, nothing like this had ever occurred before. So why, why, and who was doing this, and more importantly for what?
“This makes zero sense…how the hell could he have gotten here!” Soap yelled, angry and confused at the situation. His emotions were valid though, how did SCREAM end up on base? How did he vet in without being detected? None of it made sense, and what made it worse was that this attack also seemed targeted. Example being before when that woman and those politicians were killed.
Nobody came to mind, not to any of them. This was really a pure mystery of who SCREAM really was. It can’t be any of the other sergeants, reason being none of them seemed to held ill intention towards others. It couldn’t be any of them….duh. It couldn’t be c/n-
Soap’s thoughts stopped. The e/c eyed males code name now engraved in his head.
“Never trust the new guy…” Soap murmured, making Gaz snap his head in his direction.
“What’d you just say?” Gaz questioned, brows furrowing, needing reassurance that Soap really said what he did. Price and Ghost looked at each other, before looking back at Soap.
“Sergeant, do you know something…?” Ghost questioned, intimidating figure towering over everyone in the room. Soap sighed, looking back at the pictures.
“I think I know who our guy is.”
——Timeskip: Two Days——
C/n was walking down the hallway, tactical gear in place as he began to approach the doors to the training area. He bumped into someone, another soldier. They seemed annoyed and decided to shove him back, telling him to watch it before he kept walking.
The e/c eyes male stared him down, examining him as he walked away. He noticed a similar tag dangling from the soldiers pants, making him follow behind him.
The soldier didn’t notice the male at first until he was near two doors. One leading to the armory room and the other being a closet for old equipment. He yelped when he was suddenly shoved into one of the rooms. He swung at the attacker, hitting them square in face on their cheek.
His breath hitched when a knife plunging into the side of his neck. He choked on his own blood, a nasty gurgling noise being heard as he did. C/n glared at the man, watching his body go slump against the wall while holding his neck.
“You really need to watch where you keep these lyin around.” C/n spoke, holding the card up in the soldiers face who was now dead. He took a deep breath, relieved that he would be the reason that intel wouldn’t be getting to anyone outside the base.
He began to walk back to his room, opening the door and shutting it behind him. He took off his gear, putting it in its respective spot. He had a slight bruise forming around his cheek, but it wasn’t very painful either. He walked into his bathroom and began to wash them, getting the blood from underneath his fingertips out before rinsing with water.
He was about to leave, until the closet where he keeps all his towels and other necessities opened. An ominous creaking noise being made due to the hinges being a bit rusty. He squinted, eyes widening when someone stumbled out.
“Agh fuck-!” The intruder yelped, almost tripping over their own feet. It was….Soap..?
What the hell is he doing in his room?
“C/n…we need to talk.” Soap said, holding a hand out to make it known he wasn’t here to hurt him. C/n backed up going back into the main part of his room, he turned around to see Price standing near his nightstand next to his bed, arms crossed with his brows furrowed.
“Ok seriously what the fuck is this.” C/n said, looking around frantically. He always had his door locked, so they must’ve pick-locked it or something. C/n went to grab one of his daggers that were in his pocket, only for Gaz to pop up behind him and grab his wrist.
He snatched his wrist away, his dagger falling out his pocket. He decided to get to the door, opening and about to run out. Too bad he ran into a wall, looking up to see Ghost staring down at him.
The h/c haired male felt his soul leave his body in that moment. Sure he was strong, but he was practically cornered at this point. He backed away, eyes darting around to different parts of the room. He bumped into Price, his back hitting his front while Ghost pressed himself against him. Gaz came in on his right while Soap was to his left.
“We’re gonna have a talk….a long one.” Price spoke, breath hitting the back of C/n’s ear. “SCREAM.” Price tossed the males mask to the side, the ghostface mask staring back at them all.
They had him boxed in…��..literally. Four big guys surrounding this mischievous killer on the base.
He’s fucked
(Literally and Figuratively)
(A/n- Happy Halloween bitches🧫🧙‍♀️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️💀)
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