#i need to get better boots for this fit

[ubejamjar]

Ajisai Kawanami <<of the Fuck Around and Find Out>>

I finally decided to give WHM a go again and it makes me feel like a bloodthirsty warmonger (I'm having a great time)

[arsenicflame]

Bootblacking is my favourite kink to give Izzy, because of course this guy would get his rocks off doing precise, repetitive, manual labour. OF COURSE he gets off on what is essentially just another chore on his list.

[iobsesswaytoomuch]

Leo on crutches doodles cuz I'm definitely totally not projecting

Stairs are terrible. Kill them. They are my mortal and eternal enemies

[annapoofle]

Shoes my beloved shoe-shopping my BELOATHED

[mcnuggyy]

fuck cs/p modeler, fuck sketch/up, let’s hear it for using the sims, animal crossing, and minecraft for bg reference 😤

[roaringheat]

my partner bought me the spider-punk vest from hot topic and I appreciate it sm but it's way too big on me idk what to do

[neganium]

What I need to be doing: drawing, so that I can maybe attract customers with a snappy advertisement, or perhaps a nice YCH.

What I am Not Doing: Precisely This.

[maryse127]

I spend more than an hour ironing 3 shirts for my dad and I think we should just move on from pressed shirts. Embrace the wrinkles.

[bunnys-kisses]

baby fever

capt. john price

cw: smut/pwp, dirty talk, breeding/pregnancy, filthy, husband!price, slight age gap (reader is early 20s, price late 30s), military formal wear, oral (m receiving), doggy style, unprotected

bunny says: i thought about built/chubby price and him in his military formals and my brain turned off. this was the end result.

price wasn't beating the bear allegations. while he wasn't a gay bear, he knew that there were a lot of women who loved his physique. dusting of hair, built but enjoyed a good sunday roast. thick fingers and broad tongue. he was a built man after his years of service.

but if price had to pin you as an animal, it would be his little chickadee. small and fragile with a cute little song. the most loveliest thing he had ever laid his eyes on. no wonder within a year of dating, you were already engaged.

price knew when he had a good thing going and didn't want to ruin it. you were still in university, but he'd never make his darling girl quit school for his sake.

"'ey, love." he said as he walked past you on your laptop. he leaned in and kissed the side of your neck, "studyin' well?"

you looked over and smiled at him, "of course, big bear." you took him by the face and kissed him on the cheek. your engagement ring gleamed in the light of the living room.

but even the brightest university students could easily crumble against a man like price. it didn't help that there was a spike in your baby fever. it was almost embarrassing when you watched price in the living room, shining his uniform boots. it also didn't help when he was making sure that formal attire still fit.

he noticed you staring, you didn't try to hide it.

he stood there in front of the full length mirror in your shared bedroom. the beret, the jacket, the medals. hands on his hips as he looked at you. he smiled, his eyes crinkled at the sight of your jaw almost on the floor.

"tryin' to see if everythin' still fit. need to go back to the gym, your cookin' is gonna be the death of me, love." he chuckled. he dragged his tongue across his top teeth and said, "now that i know, why don't ya help me get out of it."

maybe a man in uniform was your (not-so) secret kink. you've seen him in everything under the sun, but every time it still made your throat dry. you were in your sunday pajamas, paired with fuzzy slippers.

he reached out for you, "ya like when i'm dressed like this, huh?" he chuckled as he tilted his head down to kiss the top of your head.

"i mean." you said, "you look good." you blushed a little bit more and looked away from him, but he took you by the chin to look at him. those blue eyes peered into yours.

"don't be shy, love." he said, "i like when ya stare."

you held onto the front of his jacket, the thick material felt heavy in your grasp. you could feel the wetness between your legs. damn price. you said, "you look good, big bear."

he reached down and took a handful of your ass, "and you look even better, my chickadee. now c'mon, undress yer man." then licked his top lip at the sight of your delicate hands trying to undo the formal jacket. he then took you by the head again and said, "pants first." then helped you onto your knees.

you swallowed and looked up at him. if anyone looked inside, they'd see a weird power dynamic. but all price saw was an eager little birdie trying to get her hands on her husband.

"those medals look nice." you said as he reached for his belt.

he chuckled, "not as nice as your lips on my cock." then dragged a hand through your hair. the belt soon came off as his pants were unzipped. he was thankful that he knew how to get any stains out of his uniform, because he knew you were a messy girl.

you took his cock out of his slacks. it stood was full attention and even after all this time together, the sight of it was still arousing. cut, thick, a deep pink (not quite red) and almost eight inches in length. you once joked it was a "porno dick".

you kissed the underside of it with such warmth that it made the man shudder. then started the slow, small licks against the shaft. you chuckled to yourself at the feeling of his cock under your tongue. he felt like a dream.

"that's a good girl. my darlin' girl." he said with a hint of pride in his voice. he loved the sight of you on his knees. even if the sweat down his back was making the heavy jacket more uncomfortable.

you stroked the base of his cock with one hand while you put your mouth fully on the tip. you teased it with wet strokes of you tongue. you could hear the gruff noise your husband made.

you squirmed a little while on your knees and could feel a dull throb between your legs. price's cock was an impressive sight and a task to fully get in your mouth.

"ya got a small mouth, love.' he remarked jokingly, "too small for all of this. but i know you'll do your best.' he combed his fingers through your hair once more before it rested on the back of your head.

he supported your head while you continued to orally pleasure him. he loved his woman on her knees in front of him. while he held you in high regard, he thought you were the sweetest things since strawberries on cake, but there was something about seeing HIS woman like this.

you looked up at him and a groan got caught in his throat. you gave him a cute little wink before you continued to stroke him off. your other hand was on his strong thigh for support as you pleasured him.

"oh sweet fuck." he groaned.

you knew you'd never take all of him in your throat but you made the most of what you could. his cock was heavy in your mouth as you continued to move your head.

he gripped the back of your head, he felt hot all over as pleasure pumped through his veins. he loved his girl, his darling sweet angel. yeah the age difference was to raise an eyebrow at. but if they knew the angel he managed to get a ring on, they'd understand.

his little chickadee.

you looked up at him once more. the way he looked down at you with a guiding hand on the back of your head. you pulled your mouth off his cock and looked up at him with your tongue out of your mouth.

"fuckin' doll eyes." he said, "get back to what you were doin', i want to see you take every last drop."

you once again went back to orally pleasuring him. your hand dug into the meat of his thigh as you tried to take more of his cock in your throat. the noises that came from your husband made your core ache.

the bright pink in his cheeks made you smile as he messed up with hair with his broad hands. he felt so big next to you. his little precious wife doing everything in her power to get him off.

with a few more thrusts of your head with his cock nudging the back of your throat. you moved to keep the tip against your tongue as he came down your throat. you didn't want to choke on his cum but you savored every last salty drop.

maybe a man in uniform did things to you.

when you pulled away, you looked up at him. "i want you, john." you said as you licked your lips and wiped your chin with the back of your hand, "i want to have your babies." the baby fever was thrumming in your veins, "fuck me, big bear."

he raised an eyebrow, "babies, huh? i thought you wanted to be a working woman." he said cheekily.

you rose to your feet, your legs were shaky as you grabbed him by the front of his uniform jacket and kissed him deeply. you almost toppled over him but he held you by the middle for support. when you pulled away, you panted as you said, "breed me price, or i'll find someone else to do it."

his expression darkened, "don't be sayin' things like that, love." he pulled you close to him. his cock was still hard between you two, "you better not run off with some runt." he kissed your heated cheek, "now face down, ass up, chickadee."

you pulled away from him and turned towards the bed. you shredded your clothes and almost threw yourself onto the large mattress. your face against the pillow with your back arched and hips raised.

you felt the bed sink soon after with your husband's large hands on your hips and his cock rested against your ass.

"your uniform." you squeaked.

"i'll iron it tonight." he replied, "right now, my darlin' girl needs her pussy fucked." his vulgar language made a shiver run through you.

when he bottomed out into your pussy, you felt the air escape your lungs. you clutched onto the pillow. he got a perfect view of your backside, his gaze felt hungry against you.

"please."

"my darlin' girl." price said softly. he leaned in and kissed you on the shoulder. you felt like a tight heat around him. "my beautiful wife." price adored that you were his wife. that you decided to marry him, now he got to feel up your beautiful figure every moment.

"god, john." you moaned, "was it always this damn big?"

he chuckled lowly, "you make me hard, love. i see ya and i just go wild." he then started to kiss at your shoulders and neck.

you held onto the pillow and panted in the pillows. you felt the sweat at your back as you were fucked. you panted into the fabric and felt your husband thrust into you.

"sweeter than jam and more fuckable than a toy." he chuckled lowly as he began to pick up the pace. he could feel your heat under him, you were a dream in his eyes.

the precious wife to be a beloved captain, almost twenty years her senior. the bed creaked under your movements and the sweet sounds of your sex filled the air. it was also joined by your sweet noises that encouraged your husband to keep fucking you.

you felt hot all over as the man fucked you. the pleasure rolled through your body as you moved against the bed. you panted and moaned into the pillow and let your husband thrust into you.

"my sweet girl." he purred.

"please, john." you whined.

the sex between you two felt hot, like you were on a knife's edge as he rutted against you. you could feel the heat pool in your gut as he moved against you. sweat clung to your chest and neck. your hair stuck against your skin.

"that's it." he murmured. his cock throbbed inside of you.

your love making continued, you pushed the hair out of your eyes the more he fucked you from behind. your hands were deep in the pillow as you moaned into the fabric.

price loved the sight of you. he just thought that you looked amazing, HIS girl was like this under him. he was your big strong bear and he loved the sight of you under him. just a dream to him. his heat raced in his hairy chest as he placed more weight on you.

"shit, john." you groaned.

"I got ya. i'll be finishin' in ya soon. give ya all the babes you want." he chuckled as he kissed your heated cheek. his thrusts were quick and made you see stars behind your lids.

you were heated all over and your head was swimming. you panted wildly into the bed and with a few more strokes of his cock, you came around him.

price groaned at intense heat around his cock. he went as fast as he could and felt the sweat down his toned back. he pressed himself further into you and finished.

his cum shot to the back of your cunt and you let out a pleased noise. his pace slowed down until he stopped and pulled out. he wiped the sweat from his forehead and scratched his hairy chest, "how's that, love?"

you laid fully flat on the bed and nodded your head, "we're going to have to keep goin' though, big bear. you've done so much damage to yourself that your swimmers aren't as strong as they used to be." so you rolled onto your back and reached for him, "c'mon. fuck me again."

he chuckled as he leaned back on his heels and stroked his cock, "of course chickadee. anythin' for ya."

[navybrat817]

Jawbreaker

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky put a mouthy rookie in his place. Word Count: Over 800 Warnings: Established relationship, mention of injury, misogyny, punching, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes defending you (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm dedicating this to @whisperlullaby , who got to read this in advance, because she deserves this man (along with the rest of you). ❤️Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

A small part of Bucky felt bad as he idly wiped his hand with a towel. A very small part.

He didn’t want people to fear him because of his past and he refused to let it define him. That meant that he tried his best to avoid violent tactics unless absolutely necessary.

But today, well, fuck that. The fucker had it coming.

Steve stood in front of him, his blue eyes narrowed as he waited for his best friend to acknowledge him.

Oh, Bucky expected some sort of reprimand, but he was sure Steve would change his tune in a minute or so.

“You gonna ask me what happened, punk, or glare at me until I talk?” He asked, tossing the towel away.

The blonde huffed out a laugh, but he didn’t look amused. “Why did you break that rookie’s jaw?”

Bucky tilted his head. “What’s the phrase? He fucked around and found out.”

You would’ve been proud of him for that reference.

Steve shook his head when Sam burst out laughing a few feet away. “Sam, please,” he begged, though his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile. “What did the guy do?”

A bitter taste flooded Bucky’s mouth as anger coursed through his veins again. He inhaled as he thought of your sweet smile and soft touch before he exhaled, the storm inside of him calming.

“Buck, you gotta tell us something,” Steve urged, needing some sort of information to try and do some damage control.

The brunette straightened up to look his friend in the eyes, wanting him to see the fury beneath the cold mask. “He told my girl to throw an apron on and get back in the kitchen when she went to spar.”

You, one of the most capable agents Bucky had ever known.

You, who had shown nothing but kindness to everyone, even when they didn’t deserve it.

The person Bucky was lucky enough to call his other half. His better half.

And some asshole rookie had the gall to treat you as if you didn’t belong there with the rest of them.

Sam was no longer laughing. Steve’s jaw clenched in understanding.

Bucky swallowed, that fury threatening to surface again as he remembered the hurt that filled your eyes at the comment. “You know I’d support anything she wants to do, whether that’s working or staying at home. It doesn’t give some prick the right to make her feel bad for her decision.”

“You know I don’t like bullies, but breaking his jaw?” Steve questioned. The guy deserved it, but did the punishment actually fit the crime?

“When she walked away, he said to come back when she was ready to see what a real man could do for her,” he said, the words coming out like a snarl.

The way you tensed up, fear and disgust flickering on your face, he didn’t think. A switch inside of him went off and he swung.

The fucker was lucky that all he got was a broken jaw. He could’ve done so much worse.

And it wasn’t that you couldn’t defend yourself because you could, but you shouldn’t have to put up with garbage like that.

A cracking sound echoed in the room before he realized he crushed the armrest of his seat. “Fuck. I’ll pay for that,” he mumbled, kicking a bit of the broken piece with his boot. “Can you just tell me how much trouble I’m in so I can get back to my girl?”

He didn’t care if he they suspended or even fired him as long as he got back to you.

The room stayed silent before Sam mused, “Technically, what the rookie did counts as harassment.”

Steve nodded. “And I’m sure Nat can persuade him not to sue for the injury he received,” he added, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’ll take care of it, Buck. Just. No more breaking jaws, okay?”

“When it comes to my girl, I make no promises,” Bucky smiled, his heart racing at the thought of you. “And maybe he’ll think twice before he opens his mouth again.”

“The damage you did, I don’t think he can open his mouth at all,” Sam mumbled.

Bucky’s phone went off before he could comment, his heart swelling as he read your text. He had to bite back a groan, too.

“Thank you again, Jawbreaker. I love you and I’ll be on my knees waiting for you.”

You wanted to thank him not just with words, but with your body and heart. It all belonged to him, like he belonged to you.

And he didn’t need to tell Steve and Sam what the message said since it was just for the two of you. “Love you, too, baby. Nothing to thank me for, but I’m on my way. Be ready.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Maybe we'll see how you "thank" Bucky down the road. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[mrsparrasblog]

Tf 141 and their kinks 

Price: Breeding kink 100%; he loves fucking you raw even when you take the pill. "Going to fill you up, nice Love" "going to fuck my baby into your cunt" calls you very often Mrs. Price, while fucking even when you aren't married yet. 

Daddy Kink: He always thought it was weird until you looked at him with dear eyes as your legs lay on his shoulders. "Please, Daddy, make me cum," and he was lost. God, he loves the power he holds, but also how well he takes care of you. John Price is the King of Aftercare; I stand by that. He is the perfect Daddy—rough but a sensual lover.

Gaz: cuckolding God, he loves watching you get fucked by someone else (especially the captain). He always sits like a good boy in the corner and strokes his hard cock lazily; he can't do it too fast since he cums in seconds. 

Another kink of his is fucking you in public, car, cinema, pool, and changing room. Name it; you did it. He especially loves the nights when you have these cute sundresses on and you're sitting in a restaurant, trying so hard not to moan while his long fingers work you open. He insists on walking you home instead of taking an Uber. "If you didn't want it, love, you wouldn't have worn that filthy sundress." He loves free access, and who are you to deny a wish to your pretty boy? 

Gaz is the best cook out of your whole team; he always experiments with different foods, so don't wonder when there is a bit of cream or frosting on your body and he licks it clean; it's only right to taste your own creations, right?

Soap: Don't judge me, but I think he has a lactating kink like that. The boy gets off on sucking on your nipples, even though you aren't even lactating. He is whining and begging like a sweet mess. Bonus points if you call him a good boy. 

Bondage: He is a switch, so you got shackled in ropes on the bed, unable to move as he edges you for hours until a slow breeze of air on your clit makes you cum undone. 

Bonus: I think he would be open to a foot fetish. He never thought he would be, but one day you put your feet on his clothed cock as a joke, and he squirmed like never before.

Ghost: Somnophila: Of course, only with consent, because he would never do something against your will. But, God, you look so sweet and innocent when you sleep. You even feel better when your mind doesn't think about how you look or how you sound—he loves fucking you awake. How your eyes open when you orgasm—his version of breakfast in bed—eating you out like a starved man until you're awake.

He loves a little breathplay on both ends; he loves choking you with his massive cock and how you gag and cry, but even more when you sit on his face, he would die between your legs, so you need to make sure not to suffocate him.

A hidden kink he never thought he had was when you rubbed yourself on his boots and he cums untouched in several seconds. Simon was embarrassed at first; you needed to reassure him that it's hot and nothing to be embarrassed about. 

Just a random thought again, lol. I know Ghost's kinks are almost fanon, but I wanted to give him different kinks that fit more with my headcanon of Ghost because I don't think he is a sadist; he is definitely strong enough and has tried it, but I think he also loves his Reader way too much and is afraid of hurting them.

[ddejavvu]

Hi, i hope youre doing well ☺️

Could i request another part to animagus cat reader where reader cuddles with Remus during winter instead of Sirius because its cold and he runs warmer?? Like he'll be in the common room reading in an arm chair while reader catnaps on his lap while being pet and Sirius tells him to stop stealing his gf and James is jealous/whiny that he doesnt get to have cat snuggles.

part 1 / part 2

--

Despite the two blankets layered in an inviting nest on Sirius's lap, Remus is the warmest person in the room. The fire crackes on its logs, offering scorching heat, but what you seek is gentle warmth, and you've found it between Remus's sweater and his undershirt. You're splayed over his chest much like a baby would be, your paws stretched out against his shoulders and your head pressed face-first into his chest. His sweater is tight enough that it holds you in place, and you don't have to worry about falling. It means that you're able to fully relax, and Sirius can hear your rampant purring from where he sits on the couch with a sour scowl on his face.

"If you just wore warmer clothes, you wouldn't be pissy right now," Remus muses, not bothering to grace the man with a glance away from his novel, "She only likes me 'cause my sweater is warm."

That's not entirely true. While Remus does tend to dress for comfort, and Sirius for style, Remus runs naturally hotter than your boyfriend. You don't have the heart to tell him that, though, so you mewl in agreement to Remus's statement.

"Sweaters are dumb," Sirius spits, and no one bothers to mention that he has a small collection of them for the snowy days on the grounds, "I look better in leather."

"Your loss," Remus shrugs, and to add insult to injury, reaches up to scratch a spot behind your ears that only makes your purring louder.

"This is bullshit," Sirius finally huffs, breaking his facade of gloomy indifference, "Prongs, get over here."

James, all too eager to help out his friend and soak up affection to boot, has no problem tipping over sideways to lay in Sirius's lap.

But the man lifts James's head out of his lap by his curls, "No, no, no, not James. Prongs."

"You want me to-?" James asks, but doesn't dare finish, because the prospect of transforming right in the common room sends a shiver of mischief down his spine that he'd be a fool to question, "On it."

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah," Sirius nods, sneering haughtily at Remus, "You're not the only one that's good for a cuddle, Moony. Look at this," He gushes, as James begins his transformation, skin giving way to tight, short fur and enormous antlers that nearly grate against the stone walls around you.

"Oh, he's a perfect fit." Remus nods resignedly, content to continue rubbing at your ears rather than chastise his friends for trying to fit a stag on a loveseat, "Yeah, that'll work nicely- ooh, careful Sirius, almost got stabbed there."

Sirius dodges a prong off of James's antlers, taking them in his hands and holding James's head steady as the oversized buck folds his knobbly knees into Sirius's lap. The back two can't make it, but James fits them clumsily onto the cushion, maintaining his balance out of dramatic willpower rather than the laws of physics.

You decide once they settle that they're no longer in need of your attention, so you turn your head back towards Remus and burrow your face back into his warm chest. You feel it shake with mirth beneath you, presumably at an overdramatized reaction from the two boys opposite you, but you can't bring yourself to care; sleep is at the forefront of your brain in this form.

"Yeah, get real cozy!" Sirius insists, calling so that you can hear him through Remus's thick sweater and beneath the weight of his hand on your ears, "Whatever! We're cozy over here, too, 'never been more comfortable- ah! Prongs, watch the hooves!"

[fuckmymunson]

Confidential. — Eddie Munson.

☆ 18+, smut, lowkey hate sex, fingering. | word count: 1.2k

☆ my montly post ;) or maybe I'll find more inspo soon.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Can you leave me alone for five fucking seconds?”

“For what? So you can keep talking shit behind my back?” He asks back, crossing his arms. Leaning against the dirty bathroom wall, Eddie stares at you with a cocky smirk. He isn’t usually this confident, not around you at least. 

“I don’t want the whole school to think I’m your fucking groupie, dude. Just leave me alone,” You bite back. You wish you could erase that smirk on his face. The anger is bubbling up your throat, burning your insides. “Just because I’m the only one who lets you get your dick wet, it doesn’t mean you can go around bragging about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be bragging about it?” Eddie laughs, he has the audacity to laugh. “Don’t you think it would be a juicy conversation topic? You, little miss perfect, fucking the freak?”

“Shut the fuck up. Seriously— or I promise you I will beat the shit out of you.”

“Jesus, you kiss your mother with that mouth, sweetheart?” He mocks you again, again. Eddie is really testing your patience. Lowering his arms, he steps closer, his heavy boots tapping on the greasy linoleum. “I think we both know you look better with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock rather than talking shit.”

“Fuck you. Literally. I don’t even know why I agreed to this,” Done with this conversation that will surely lead to nothing, you grab the doorknob. “You talk a lot of shit when we are alone, but you are such a pussy when people bully you. Just say you don’t have the balls to man up.”

“Man up?” Eddie takes another step. He is willing to chase you if you dare to open that door. “Oh, sweetheart. You know what kind of man I am. The man who can actually make you come, not like those preppy fuckers that share you.”

Your head whips at his words. He couldn’t have possibly said that. Perhaps you are having a stroke. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, cutie. The same whores you talk shit with, talk shit about you too— behind your back, I might add,” His hand takes yours, gently removing it from the doorknob. Eddie bites back a laugh when he sees your expression, how could you be so oblivious? “Haven’t you noticed? Or are you that stupid?”

Shaking your head, you push him— or try to, at least— the action surprises him, but he doesn’t move an inch. Eddie quickly wraps an arm around your waist, pushing you against the wall. He knows what you need, wherever and whenever, he knows what you want. Your hatred has no fundament, you are just a dumb sheep that follows the horde, but he can’t blame you; there’s the need to fit… and there’s the need you can’t escape from no matter what.

“Come on, you know you don’t want to break our little deal,” He whispers.

“Let go of me,” You choke. “You are lying. They are my friends—”

“You know what they say, sometimes your enemies live in your own home,” Nobody says that, Eddie is just making it up to play with your newfound insecurity. “Perhaps you are a freak, just like me.”

Smashing his lips against yours, your hands grope his shoulders. The logical thing would be to push him, to yell and run, but you can’t. Whatever he has, is drowning you. Eddie can make you see stars, and the problem is that he is the only one. A thing that happened by a stupid mistake occasioned by the stupid join you agreed is now escalating and threatening to ruin your reputation— he knows that. You know that. Outside he is no one, but when you two are alone, he makes you feel like you are no one. 

“You talk so damn much,” Your words are weak when his lips reach your neck, when his hands slide underneath your skirt. “I hate you.”

“I hate you too, pretty girl.”

Lifting one leg to wrap it around his hip, you bite your lower lip when his thumb traces the outline of your folds, rubbing the fabric of your panties against you. Keeping you steady with his free hand on your waist, Eddie bites down on your neck, relishing on the sweet cry that escapes your lips. He is so close he can smell your perfume, of course is the one he has been seeing advertised on TV. You fight so much to be perfect that it breaks you how pathetic your yearning is. He quickly finds your clit— now this is true, you know what they say… practice makes perfect— circling it slowly.

“You want to keep it so low, yet the only thing you keep low is your voice when I fuck you in your bedroom,” He taunts you. He hits you in your weakest spots. “Just accept it, I’m your escape— I don’t mind. As long as you are honest.”

“Fuck you,” You spit, buckling your hips when he pushes your underwear to the side. It is an endless battle, not only with him, but with yourself.

With a sigh, Eddie shakes his head, his curly hair bouncing softly. “As you wish, sweetheart.”

Sliding a finger, his cold rings make you gasp. He never takes them off, not even when he fucks you. Eddie says it makes him look cool, you say it makes him look idiotic— and you maintain that thought, even when he is adding a second finger and curling it, rubbing your tight walls slowly. Moaning louder, you clasp a hand over your mouth, if someone finds you, God, you’d be ruined; he, on the other hand, has other plans. Thrusting his digits slowly, Eddie groans lowly every time he feels you tightening. The moans you fight so hard to swallow are a confidence boost, and right now? He wants to hear them all.

“Take that hand off your mouth or I swear I will leave you here,” His threat makes you shudder. What games is he playing? “I’m being serious.”

Reluctantly, you agree. The smile that appears on his cheeky face shouldn’t be as pretty as it is. Now you are sure he is toying with you— yet you can’t be mad about it. Not when he is speeding up, not when he is nibbling on your neck, not when you can feel his erection grinding against your thigh. Being finger–fucked by the town’s freak is already embarrassing enough, so naturally, orgasming so quickly would be even more embarrassing.

“Why do you fight it?” Removing his fingers, Eddie clicks his tongue when you protest. “I could fuck you every day if you weren’t such a bitch,” Yanking your underwear down, he pushes you harder against the wall, spitting on his fingers and returning them to his favorite place. Your pussy greets them back greedily, squeezing his digits and wetting them until you are not sure if it’s dripping down his wrist. “At least I know one part of you actually likes me.”

“Shut up— Shut up,” you repeat over and over, keeping your eyes shut. Your moans flow freely now, urging him to continue. Eddie loves how pliant he can get you, how just a little pleasure gets you this dumb. “Fuck— don’t stop, please.” There it is, what he has been dying to hear.

“I wouldn't dream of, princess.”

[luveline]

how about spencer x badass reader and they are wearing couple or similar clothes intentionally or unintentionally?? I think that would be cutee

tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader

"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks, sounding like a kid in a candy store, a crisp twenty in his back pocket. 

Emily follows his line of sight and feels her cheeks apple unbidden, a delighted smile on her painted lips. "Oh, my god." 

"Yeah, Garcia?" Derek asks, phone to his ear, Penelope first on his speed dial. "You need to come and see this. Like, right now. Don't worry, baby, just come and see it for yourself." 

"I don't even know what to say." Emily stares at you. 

You usually dress in line with the other women in this profession: pants that aren't too tight so you can run in if needed, a simple blouse, and a blazer if you're feeling formal. 

Today, you've opted for something softer. It was a slow change, one day you were wearing a cashmere sweater, thin and fitted to your form. Another day, you chose to layer your shirt with a cardigan of a similar colour. 

Right now? You're all Spencer. Your slacks remain unchanged but your blouse has been swapped for a shirt with a stiff starched collar and layered under what can only be described as a grandpa sweater. It's not quite ugly, but it's almost identical to Spencer's. 

What's more, you've swapped your boots for converse. 

Spencer holds the door for you. He's chosen to wear a tie at least, clinging to that last strand of professional business attire. He has two coffees, one in each hand, while you carry a box. He's all elbows as he talks to you, and you, ever his fan, follow every word with a fond smile. 

"Hey, are you guys sharing a wardrobe now?" Derek asks, absolutely unwilling to hold back.

Emily piles on, "It's cute! You're totally an old married couple, you look like my grandparents." 

"What happened to your boots, lovergirl?" Derek asks, nodding at your cons, arms crossed over the back of his chair casually. "Don't get me wrong, I'm loving the sneakers." 

"You guys totally match," Emily coos. "You could be on a Christmas card." 

You smile —you smile, Emily might just call the news— and walk past them to your desk. Hotch has moved you away from Spencer knowing you'll encourage his endless chattering, which places you on a different island of desks next to Anderson and Agent Camille. 

Spencer put his coffee down on his desk, taking off his messenger bag. "Nice going, guys. She brought you donuts. You know, to apologise for calling you both antagonistic losers yesterday," he says, smiling at the mutual horror that crops up on their faces. "The fancy kind, too. She knew your favourite flavours without asking." 

From her desk, Emily can see you've opened the box and offered them to your desk mates, your expression unperturbed. "Just don't touch the chocolate sprinkle ones, they're for Spencer," you say.

No matter what they say, how sorry they sound, you give out the donuts to anyone who'll take one until they're all gone. When Garcia arrives, she finds you sitting in your desk chair with your head leaning against Spencer's stomach, taking alternate bites of the same sprinkle-covered donut like it isn't the most domestic, coupley thing you could be doing. 

Unlike Emily and Derek, Penelope genuinely thinks you look cute. "You guys are like Brangelina," she breathes, eyes wide, her smile infectious. 

Spencer fails to hide a grin, his hand on your shoulder. You're better at controlling your emotion, sliding a small parcelled package across the desk toward her.

"Thank you, Pen," you say. "I like the shoes. They're comfy. And the sweater was a gift." Spencer nods enthusiastically. 

That explains why you'd taken such an offence. Anything to do with Spencer raises your hackles. If you felt someone was making fun of his present to you, you'd defend him with your last dying breath, or, in this instance, punish your coworkers in his honour. 

"I'm sorry," Derek apologises again, "I was kidding! What do you want me to do, you want me to wear a sweater vest too? I can do that." 

You reach back to touch Spencer's side, levelling Derek with an impartial look. Not mad, not sad. Totally indifferent. "That could be a good start." 

Spencer hums. "I think so. You wanna borrow one of mine?"

The barest hint of a smile plays on your lips. "That's generous, Spence. You're a philanthropist."

"I am." He strokes the slope of your sweater-clad shoulder proudly. "You know me, I love sharing my wardrobe." 

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Nine

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Graphic descriptions of domestic violence. Medical chart from a SANE EXAM. Simon's family history, trauma. Brief sexual content. Hospital setting, nurse!reader, medical inaccuracies. Heavy emotions. Scars. Reader in pain. Hurt/comfort. Kate is a dog with a bone. Penny is cute. POV switches. Simon and Johnny make a discovery, and a promise.

You can’t breathe.

The air is too thin, too tight, and you stand, silent, in the foyer of the home that you’ve been invited to.

A clock ticks on the wall. You count each second, waiting. 

You should leave. You should run. 

Simon’s footsteps echo above your head, already up the stairs with your first bag and work backpack.

He said to make yourself at home, but you can’t move.

The foyer is the foyer of a family. There is a hall tree with little shoes scattered beneath it, a tiny, pink backpack hanging on the hook. Too many wellies to count, all in pastel colors, matching a small yellow and green rain jacket that’s folded on the stairs. There’s a black hoodie, a black jacket, and a green on the coat rack, hung haphazardly with a toss. Men’s sizes, and you notice two pairs of trainers next to one pair of black boots, and two crayons hide, peeking out from under the bench, one blue, one purple, so worn down they’re almost half gone.

A home. A family. 

“Hey, so up-“ You flinch. The jolt has you stumbling, one misstep over another, and he tenses, prepared to steady you, careful hand outstretched, but not encroaching.

“Sorry.” You shouldn’t be here. 

“No, I’m sorry. I know better.” You blink, and the silence is heavy, weighted down like bricks at the bottom of a river. 

He’s still wearing the mask. 

 “Can I… give you a tour?”

“S-sure.”

You lose your breath again in the kitchen.

Simon turns away to the sink, loading dishes into the dishwasher as you stare at the fridge and its collage with a tight chest. It’s covered; photos, invitations, magnets, notes, finger painted masterpieces. You step closer, studying, noticing the way they all fit together, mix matched perfectly, and even in the pictures, the three of them glow effortlessly, too sweet and smiling, happy. Together. A family. A perfect unit.

Your nose tingles, and you blink back the tears that fight forward, wiping away the two that escape and trickle down your cheek. You don’t know why it overwhelms you, why it fills you with grief.

What is it like, to be loved like that? To have a family, like this? 

Get it together. You’re a guest in their house.

It’s too much, and you chastise yourself for getting so emotional over nothing, over something stupid.

You need to be alone. 

Dry sandpaper scrubs the back of your throat when you swallow. “Simon?” He turns, concerned, glancing at the fridge and then back to you, drying his hands on a towel.  

“What is it?”

“Can I… I’m sorry. I’m… tired.” You try to explain your needs but it’s awkward on your mouth, uncomfortable. His expression creases with sympathy.

“Of course, c’mon. I’ll show you.”

“Alright, one more step.”

“’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, bun. You’re alright.” In the back of your mind, you’re registering Simon’s warmth, the wilted lean that has you tipped into him, slow steps on the stairs, one by one as you fight to stay upright. He’s warm, and pillowy… the kind of comfort you could sink into, disappear inside for a while. It sounds so… nice.

But your shoulder is throbbing. The pain combined with the emotions swirling about in your heart has you on the verge of tears, top teeth dug into your lip, and your molars grind against one other with each step.

“It’s just at the end of the hall.”

You shouldn’t be doing this. Even now, after agreeing, getting in the car, getting yourself here… the desire to bolt runs hot under your skin, buzzing inside your skull, an insistent need.

You’re in their house. Where they live. With their baby. 

What if he comes back? What if he hurts them? 

“Hey.” Simon says your name slowly, ducking down to get your attention. Fuck.

“Sorry, I’m just… exhausted.”

“I’m sure. It’s right here.” He opens the door to a room, flicking on a light switch. The walls are a sage green, a gentle hue that matches the bedspread, framed photos organized into a gallery wall, pictures of smiles and laughter, a tiny Penny in Simon’s naked arms, a candid shot of Johnny in full military regalia, the three of them together somewhere, hiking, with Pen snuggled in a papoose on Johnny’s chest. The bed is the centerpiece, a massive king size piled with pillows, and it looks so inviting, so soft that you want to collapse into it right here and now.

“Wow.” It’s the best you can do, considering the screeching agony vibrating in your shoulder. You try to breathe through it, but the pain only shortens your draw.

“Yeah, it’s our old bed. Very comfortable.” He puts your other duffel down by the dresser, and you try not to dwell on the idea of it once being theirs, where they slept, where they’ve loved one another, held each other, their child, their- “It’s got its own bathroom, just through here.” He’s on the other side of the room, turning on a light that is far too bright, and you squint, jerking away with a gasp. Are you getting a migraine too? “Shit, sorry.” The room spins. You stumble towards the bed, limbs heavy, head full of cement, wooziness blurring your immediate sight. You’re disjointed, a mess of pain and disorientation, and you cover your eyes with a palm.

“Sorry, I think… I think I’m getting a headache. My shoulder-“ it slips out before you can stop yourself, and even with your eyes closed, you know Simon is staring at you, picking you apart with his eyes.

“Your shoulder?” You’re on a runaway train now. It has no brakes. No destination. It just barrels down the tracks, unable to stop for rational thought or pleas of mercy. It has no plan, and it does not heed you. You’re helpless. Hopeless. Lost. Reaching out for a light in the dark, a rope, a life vest, and a sob breaks through to the surface.

“It really hurts.”

“It hurts?” His voice cuts, tone worried. “Which one?” You use your good side to point, shakily.

“I’m sorry. I’m s-sorry.” You try to tell him, try to explain that you don’t mean to cry, or be emotional. You don’t mean to be making a fuss. You’re not supposed to be a problem.

A warm hand lays atop your thigh, thumb rubbing into your scrub pants.

“Sweetheart, you’re in pain. You don’t have to apologize for crying.” Your vision blurs, thick with tears, and fingers gently probe along your shoulder cuff. When you flinch, he swears. “Shhh, alright. Easy.” He’s gentling a spooked horse, carefully feeling along where you ache as you cry through it, unable to stop. “I’m going to go get some ice. We can… wrap it up, if you think that will help?”

“Ye-yeah, okay.” His steps fade, and you try to get your top off, sliding the arm that doesn’t hurt underneath your turtleneck, which is confined by the rigidity of your scrub top.

When you try the other one, the pain is so sharp, a cry bursts from your lips, and Simon sprints up the stairs. How did it get so much worse between the beginning of your shift and now? 

“What happened?”

“I can’t… I can’t get my shirts off.” You uselessly tug at the hem, eyes half open, letting it fall from your fingers, stuck in a loop, frantic movements matching the increasing pace of your lungs.

“Can I help?” His face is lined in concentration, and you spot an icepack on the bed now, with a sling, and a wrap. They’re prepared. Must come home with a fair number of injuries. “Bun, are you with me?” You sniffle and nod. What choice do you have? What choice do you ever have? The pain is too much. It’s all too much, and it boils over until you need to get the shirts off, not caring that it will expose you, or show Simon the very details you’re always trying to hide. You’re too far lost now, too far gone.

If you’re here, in their home, shouldn't you let them see? Shouldn't you let them know? 

The truth is terrifying, the reality of the trust you have in them. You know Simon won’t hurt you, instinctively. You feel safe here, in their home, their old bed, and when he looks at you, you show him, just for a second, the fractured mirror that is your reflection. You show him the pain and the rage and the fear, you give him everything. You shove the girl in the mirror forward, you force her into the sun and you hold her face to the light, trying not to sob as she screams at you in protest.

Just for a second.

“Okay.” He nods, and then cups your cheek. “You’re okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” You nod with tears that sting, and then you slowly pull away, slipping back into yourself, hiding the girl in the mirror away, making more promises to her that you’re not sure you’re going to keep.

“We’re going to put this one,” He slowly, carefully lifts the arm with the bad shoulder until it’s resting on his own, “right here. That alright?” A whimper builds, but you give him another nod, breathing through the anguish. There are a million little needles in your shoulder, all stabbing you over and over, ripping and gnawing at the cartilage, or the bone, or the muscle… you can’t be sure. “I’m going to bring your scrub top up now. Is this okay?” his fingers peel it from the turtleneck, and when he gets to your head, you incline your neck, more tears rushing forth.

“Yeah.” You whisper, a tired, pained moan, falling from your lips without permission.

“I know it hurts; I know. Almost there, try to breathe.” He soothes you, and the top slides towards him along your arm. He pulls it free, throwing it on the floor somewhere, his hands returning to your thighs.

“Sorry.” It’s automatic, ingrained. A reaction to pain, to fear, to the idea of being a burden, something that haunts you, every day. He ignores it.

“Ready for the next?” The turtleneck comes less easy, but the two of you are in sync like dance partners. The pain shoots up your arm when you move your neck again, and Simon wipes a few tears from your cheek, carefully leaning you back into the pillows and pulling the comforter down.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, the raw edge of surprise, horror, you’re sure, and you close your eyes. You can't look at him, when you know what he sees. You know what you look like. A roadmap of foolishness. Of weakness. You know the scars are plainly on display, still raised, still ugly. Like you.

He says nothing, only sits at your side, bed dipping with his weight. “I’m going to take your shoes off too, okay?” He narrates and asks for permission with each touch, pulling your sneakers free, satisfying thunk of each one hitting the floor, and then moves on to sliding the ice pack underneath you, wrapping it firmly but not too tight, ensuring it stays in place. He’s tender and slow, thoughtful, your eyes fighting to stay closed, brain and body starting to drift off into uncomfortable sleep. “Not yet, sweetheart.” There’s a rattle, two pills being deposited into your hand.

“What are these?"

“Paracetamol.” He turns the bottle, label out, word coming into focus enough to be verified, and you swallow them down with the glass of water in his outstretched hand.

“Thank you.” The croak stays lodged in your throat, and his eyes crinkle, the sign of a smile.

“Get some rest.” It’s comfort he gives you, leaning forward, pressing mask covered lips to your forehead. Comfort that doesn’t elicit a flinch or a sense of wariness, and you bask in the shine of the sun on your skin, holding tight to it, slipping into a dreamless sleep.

“Banky.” Pen demands, hands outstretched.

“No binky, it’s lunch time. Lunch.” Simon makes the sign for lunch, L shaped pointer finger and thumb, circling the corner of his mouth. He does it a few times, accompanied with the word again and again until Penny huffs and leans back, eyes wide. “You try. You try, lunch.”

“No!” She shrieks, and he shushes her, scattering some banana puffs across her tray.

“Shhh Pen. Bun is sleeping, remember?”

“Bunny seep?” She gives him the sign for sleep, or her sign at least, a palm dragging down her face followed by very dramatic closing lids. “Seep?”

“Yes, sleeping.” Simon makes the sign to acknowledge she was correct. “Good job.” He gives her a thumbs up, and she smiles, sweetness melting away some of the tense worry that's taken up in his heart.

“Puff?” She holds one out to him, but he shakes his head, pointing at her mouth.

“For you. Eat them, eat your puffs.” He signs along with the words, and she mimics him, food in hand, eyes lighting up when she finally makes it in her mouth.

He glances towards the stairs. You’re in the guest room, far enough away that Penny’s noise shouldn’t wake you, but still he tries to keep her preoccupied, distracted from making a fuss.

He wants you to get as much sleep as possible, this morning’s discovery of your shoulder unsettled him more than he’s frankly comfortable with, and the image of your swollen, battered face and neck leers and taunts. 

She’s safe now. She’s here. 

“Dada.” Pen calls, and he smiles, leaning forward to brush his lips across his baby’s soft skin, wispy curls tickling his nose. 

“Love you, baby girl.” He signs it too, and she beams.

“Luh.” It’s supposed to be love, and though the word is a struggle, the sentiment is the same. He doesn’t care that she’s not quite got it yet, he’ll take every word, every syllable he can get. These moments, each moment with his child, Johnny’s child, theirs… is a gift, one he never thought he’d have until Johnny. A privilege.

His phone vibrates with a text message.  

>Simon

>Give me a ring when you get a chance. On the black cell.  

“Thought you were on vacation?” Kate sighs, click clack of keys echoing in the background.

“I am, but if I’m too idle I start to go crazy. The wife likes it when I have a project.” Simon pauses, cocking his head. Penny’s feet kick in the highchair, baby spoon banging against the plastic tray.

“Hang on, Kate.” He drags a kitchen chair over in front of her so he can sit, pinning the phone between his shoulder and chin to twist the lid off the applesauce pouch. “Shhh, here you go." Penny gurgles with a grin at the taste of the fruit, and he smiles back at her. "So, what’s the new project then?”

“The nurse.” Simon’s eyes dart to the floor above his head.

“It’s not a good time.”

“I can talk, you can listen.” She brushes him off, sipping something with ice and then continuing. “I found it hard to believe that a civilian would be able to scrub their footprint like this, so I did a little digging. The more digging I did, the worse my fixation became.” Like a dog with a bone.Simon holds his breath. “I just needed a key, and with those photos you provided, well, things just started unraveling.”

“Kate.” He growls because he can’t manage anything else. He’s trying to keep himself still, heart pounding in his chest. Penny coos, like she notices the shift in her dad’s demeanor, and he immediately attends her, thumbing at a smear of applesauce on her cheek.

“I found a SANE exam from a few years ago. Small hospital in southern Colorado, right over the border from Texas. Patient’s name is Jane Doe, but the photos are almost an exact match.” His stomach lurches, dark clouds shadowing his vision, world splitting into blood and rage. Violence.

He didn’t want to be right.

He wanted to it to be anything, anything but this.

Who? 

Is it the same person that choked you? Beat you? Tore your shoulder damn near out of its socket? 

His gaze drifts to Penny.

They'll need to loop Price in, immediately. 

“Can you send it to me?”

“It’s already in your email.” She speeds past, eagerly. “There’s more. I used the photo to run facial recognition on archives in neighboring states and got a host of hits from Texas. You’ll have to visually confirm, but if I’m right, I’ve got positive ID on your girl.”

“How?”

“School. She graduated high school a year before the rest of her class, ended up with a full scholarship to Rice University in Houston, Texas. Went on to get a bioscience degree and graduated from Rice early.” Pride flutters beneath his ribs, honeyed and heavy. Their smart girl. “She ends up at a different school for pre-med but drops out before the first year ends. Not sure what happened but she started an accelerated nursing program, and breezed through it. You should see her transcripts. I don’t think this girl has gotten less than an A+ on anything since kindergarten.”

“Send them over.”

“Already done. After that, she starts work at a local hospital, and then… nothing. Her paper trail stops. Her job disappears. She’s a ghost except for the sealed court records, and now the Jane Doe medical chart, but that didn’t happen until later. The aliases she’s used over the past few years, they’re in the wind. It’s really quite impressive. She’s either got a connection somewhere, or she’s CIA.” Kate is animated, talking quickly, and he interrupts her to get to the question that’s weighing on him, brushing off the latter immediately. You’re not a honeypot. He spots those a mile away.

“You know her name, then. Her birth name?”

“I do.” She’s silent for a moment, and then she gives it softly. First, middle and last.

He closes his eyes. He tries to imagine you as a girl, on the playground, playing tags with other kids, all of them shouting your name, or as a teenager, in a fight with a parent, one of them yelling your name. He pictures you as a uni student, with your friends, laughing and having a good time somewhere, one of them hollering your name over too loud music. You’ve had a whole life with that name, a whole story. You were a person with that name, and he tries to imagine the way it would sound on your tongue, on Johnny’s, even his.

You’re a ghost now, will you let them bring you into the light?

Will you let them help you reclaim it; the way Johnny helped him reclaim his own?

Kate subtly coughs on the other end of the line.

“Thanks, Kate.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll keep digging. Check your email when you get a chance.”

“Will do.”

“Oh! And the hotel, I sent that paperwork to your email as well.” He thanks her, again, tells her to try to enjoy her time off and hangs up just as Penny starts to fidget, unhappy with being in the highchair for so long without attention.

“Alright, lamb. Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?” He pulls her free, showering kisses all over her cheeks and neck that make her giggle. “Can’t be wearin’ your applesauce and pajamas over to John and Lou’s, can you?”

Johnny is anxious. Simon can see it a mile away, even before he gets in the room, he notices how he is fidgets, unspent energy and too much time to dwell culminating in an unsettled state.

So, when he kisses him first thing, he makes it long and slow. He drags Johnny’s bottom lip between his teeth, carefully taking his time until he’s sure his partner is half hard beneath his hospital gown and blanket.

“Si.” Johnny groans, and he relents, pulling away to cradle his face between his hands, taking him in, every line, every fleck of gold in his blue eyes, soaking up the healing, healthy glow that glimmers in his skin.

His doctor says it won’t be long now, until he can come home, and Simon is counting the days.

To have everyone, under one roof, feels like a fever dream.

“Missed you.” Johnny noses into his neck, and Simon reciprocates with a kiss to his temple, his cheek.

“Missed ye too.” He pauses, squeezing his hand. “Pen?”

“Alright. Grumpy this morning. Think she wanted to see you.” She did, he knows it, but he tries not to pile it on. Johnny knows their daughter misses him, as much as he misses her. They’re two peas in a pod, best friends, halves to a whole. They’re both suffering. “Went with Lou and John fine. I’ll bring her in the morning.”

“Good.” He nods, tilting his chin for another kiss, and Simon gives it without hesitation, basking in the warmth and familiar feel  of his skin.

When he clears his throat, he pulls away with a sigh. “How is she?”

“In pain. Shoulder is nearly torn out of the socket, and her neck is in poor shape. I had to help get her into bed, she couldn’t get her shirt off. Emotionally she’s… still got the walls up, but she let them slip for a second last night, before she let me help her. And I caught her crying in front of the fridge. Think the photos of Pen got to her somehow.” His stomach twists, new, horrifying possibility dawning on him. Do you have a child somewhere? 

“Did she get any sleep?”

“She hadn’t come down when I left to take Penny, so I assume so.”

“Good. She needs it.” Simon agrees. After injury, after trauma, body and mind need so much more care. More rest, more nutrients, water, protein. More love.

“Kate called.” He bites the bullet, fingers flexing against his knee. “She found a loose end and tugged it.” Johnny straightens. He’s every bit the solider, even laid up in bed. Waxy, soft features turn razor sharp and focused, except instead of his practiced steadiness, he’s chomping at the bit.

“Tell me.”

Simon does. He tells him everything Kate said, almost verbatim. Johnny’s face changes from worried to enraged when he finally gets to the medical chart.

“No.” Johnny’s whisper is faint, thin, papyrus. Brittle and broken, almost washed away, and Simon doesn’t blame him. The chart is horrific for them, was horrific for him earlier, turned his stomach until he thought he’d be sick.

He’s killed. He’s tortured. But to be there when Johnny revealed the handprinted tender skin on your neck, to be there when you cried out in pain last night, when he saw the scars on your body, the cigarette burns that were so familiar, to look at these photos and know that you’ve been brutalized beyond belief, makes his vision run red and his heart ache.

There’s a ghost in these photos. A different girl, but the same, a glimpse of what he saw last night. Still their bunny, their girl. He can see her, through the broken blood vessels and compound forearm fracture. He can see her past the swollen cheekbone and broken nose, the fresh burns on your stomach and torso. The doctor’s notes indicate that you said you were mugged, and sexually assaulted, but refused to finish the SANE exam and took off.

He's not surprised. 

The first time he saw the burns on your naked skin, he swore he could his mother’s screams, and for the hundredth time today, Simon thinks of her. He wonders, if she ever went to a hospital, if she ever begged anyone to help her, or them. He wonders if someone saw what was happening, how she was slowly disappearing, sinking in on herself, and tried to help. He wonders if she felt as alone as you seem to. If she too, became a ghost.

He looks at these photos and cannot fight the pain, the memories.

“Oh, Si.” Johnny cups his cheek, thumb soothing softly across his skin, trying to wipe away the tears that fall. He can’t stop them, not now, and Johnny does not ask, only holds him through it, lets him cry into his hands, pain and suffering of a small, frightened boy coming out of his body in broken sobs.

He won’t fail you. Not like he did her.

After minutes turn long, he takes a deep breath, pressing his lips to Johnny’s palm, and utters a promise as cold as death. 

“We’ll kill them. Whoever it is.”

[achrams]

𝐎𝐤𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨, 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐩.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: On your trip to get familiar with the area, Ethan decides to be annoying and you show him his place.

𝐂𝐰: Jealous Ethan tries to get the two of you caught mid act.

To everyone’s surprise Ethan behaved rather well for the rest of the ride and upon making it to the campsite it was as if nothing had happened just a few hours ago. Walking out the bus that had you all crammed together in a, to you, comically small seat had you letting out a sigh and stretch of relief. Trying to get all the kinks out of your body before familiarising yourself with the place.

With the fresh air hitting your nose, came a sense of freedom. You and all your classmates would be enjoying the quietness and adventures this forest holds. While some people were busy rushing to stand by the bus, taking the various bags and suitcases from the luggage compartment, you decided to look around the area. Until most people had got their stuff, that is.

Taking note of the wooden buildings- a larger community house in the middle, a teacher’s and guide’s cabin and a bit further out the smaller cabins that were to fit this class. From the small talk you overheard from the teachers when on the way here, each cabin holds around 4 people total. So you’d likely spend the room with Ethan and 2 others. Hopefully people you actually knew better than as a ‘classmate’.

Taking your eyes off the buildings for a moment and putting your attention on the scenery instead. Tall and dark trees all around you create a calm and protected feeling in your chest. Small and rugged rocky trails going through the forest, leading to all sorts of mysteries- a lake and a sauna right by it, a nice fire pit for midnight talks and last but not least the activities you all would be kept busy with. In all honesty it sounded and looked more like a summer camp than a school trip but who were you to judge this event that had been the talk of the town or well.. class.

A blow of warm air to the back of your neck made you turn around only to be met with a grinning Ethan. He chucked your bag into your hands to which you thanked him quietly. Raising an eyebrow upon seeing his suitcase. “What’s all that for? You make it seem like you’re moving somewhere.”

Ethan followed your pointing finger and gave a nonchalant shrug. “Have to be prepared for everything. Wouldn’t you say so?”

With a snort and a simple roll of your eyes you turned around to look at the cabins once more, trying to look for one that seemed good to stay in. “Yeah right. As if we’re in an apocalypse.” The faux offended gasp made you tilt your head back to Ethan, only to see him frowning at you.

“When you have a zombie after you, I’m not gonna help you. You’ve lost that privilege, just so you know.”  Of course Ethan would play right into the banter. It’s almost heartwarming to see how well he knows you and your remarks. He seems happy about it too, given the cheeky grin now on his face.

Fighting back an actually genuine smile at your thoughts you forced out a sarcastic laugh. “Consider my boots quaking.” Ain't no way you'll let him see just how much you actually valued him as a friend.

–--

Fighting back a twitch of your eye, you stood in the middle of your cabin. ‘I thought the number seven meant luck not misfortune.’ Mentally groaning as you were forced to share a cabin with Ethan alongside Jana and her friend. Of course it would be the two other people who fit perfectly in the classmate category instead of friend. Not exactly what you had hoped for.

Now, what had you irritated in the first place? A very questionable situation you found yourself in. Jana and Ethan were proper bickering on each side of you, trying to convince each other why you should share their bunk bed with them. Ethan to your left, saying that you should share his bunk bed because the two of you were close friends and Jana to your right counter arguing that you needed a change and the best way was to share her bunk bed.

Leaning your head back with a groan you muttered out a simple ‘Stop arguing for the love of-” You really couldn’t handle the two whining any longer.

“Jana, let the guy go. You already know him and Ethan are like two peas in a pod.” Thank fuck for Jana’s friend interfering this banter and dragging Jana off you. Otherwise it would have gone on forever, you feared. Though when Jana was pulled off you, Ethan didn’t let go as expected. Instead he hugged your hands tightly close to you, practically trying to prove that ‘you were his’.

“Oi. Let go.” Ethan looked at you and smiled, dragging you to the bunk bed so you could unpack your things.

“You owe me now, just saved you from a zombie.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at Ethan’s joke, having to hide your laugh into your hand. It wasn’t exactly proper to laugh at your friend's whispered insult when the person was in the room, now was it?

“Thought you were supposed to leave me to fend for myself?” A snarky question earned a nudge to your side followed by a small ‘Changed my mind.’ from Ethan.

You could already feel how fun this whole event was going to be despite the situation a few seconds ago, it wasn’t even the evening and you felt like you had lived through 2 weeks of this campy life. Better unpack your bag and make this cabin feel like home as quickly as possible so you could go and explore the place.

---

Yeahh…not ever did you think that your curiosity to look round the place was a popular thought, so much so that it would bring together an ‘exploring group’. Not that little either, most people decided to tag along, not to mention the teacher deciding to come too. Taking off along one of the roads into the trail that was supposed to make a circle around the area. Get used to the place, you know?

You and Ethan seemed to be the two leaders of the group for now, starting the stroll while chatting about random things. Then some more people joined the conversation and then more…and more, until it seemed like you were the one tagging along. 

It’s not that you hated the other, gods no, your extroverted part just died off midway so now you opted for listening to the others. Ethan, however, didn’t seem to catch the hint and kept trying to get you more into the conversation. Which only annoyed you given the remarks he was making.

Walking a bit slower as you took your time to admire the scenery to save your mind, practically zoning out on the sight of the lake below you. This hill with some benches was a prime spot to hang out, noting the place into that good memory of yours.

“Come on bro, wouldn’t want you to get lost now..” Ethan’s hand was hanging off your shoulder as he practically pressed his cheek against yours. 

Not bothering to fight back you let the guy try to drag  you back to the others who had made it a fair bit ahead already. “You’re awfully quiet. What’s got your panties in a twist?”

You could already hear the awful grin on Ethan’s face, so out of habit you gave him a look. “Didn’t expect so many people to tag along. Little tired is all.” A hum escaped Ethan. A perfect sign he was plotting something and his next words confirmed it.

“Want me to take care of them? I’m good at combat!” Apparently Ethan was really going all in on the apocalypse roleplay for some reason and you couldn’t help but feel your face contort into a confused expression.

“You and combat? Those two do not go well together. You know that.” The offended sigh that you heard next to you stopped abruptly and then Ethan grabbed your cheeks, making you face him.

“Oor.. you want me to take care of you instead?” A simple twitch of your eye made him back off with a casual laugh. Almost made him feel the need to surrender to save himself of your wrath. It was either your mind was in the gutter or he was purposefully being suggestive.

“I mean it though,” Ethan said after a moment of silence, turning to glance at you again, “I can help you get your spark back. Have some fun between the two of us, you know the good old primal style-”

Seems he had chosen some bad words to describe his ideas because before Ethan could go on, he was very quickly pulled off the trail, pushed against the nearest tree. Your hand over his mouth to properly shut him and his stupid ideas up. There was no need to get so riled up by some ‘jokes’ your best friend made but they did have an effect. More than you’d like to admit.

Feeling him smile against your hand made you lean closer to Ethan’s face, whispering into his ear, “You better shut the fuck up right now before I make you.” And by the way his smile grew underneath your hand, it told you everything you needed to know.

“Turn around.” A simple command that Ethan eagerly followed, looking over his shoulder as he moved your hand from over his mouth to be wrapped around his lower stomach. Trying so damn hard to get you all riled up. To make you lose yourself. To finally give him your attention. Only you and him. Alone.

The perfect arch in his back as he tried to press himself against you did not go unnoticed at all. Using your free hand to trail it down his back to rest on his hip to suddenly pull your own hips flush against his ass. “You want this don’t you? Being annoying on purpose to get what you crave?” Leaning close to whisper against his neck. Giving Ethan a taste of his own medicine. “Tell me why I should be nice, hmm?”

Ethan pressed his eyes shut for a moment, letting out a breath of air. You could notice how he tightened his hands against the bark of the tree he was leaning on. “ Wanna be good for you..”

How sweet. So eager to make you feel good. Even if it was a blatant lie, Ethan was a perv and you could see it clearly now. This was no kind gesture on his part, he just wanted you. Needed you. Disguising it as ‘wanting to make you feel nice’. So naughty you are Ethan.

“You expect me to believe that after that stunt you pulled in the bus?” Smirking evilly against Ethan’s neck as you kept him neatly pressed against your groin while the hand that was previously wrapped around him, moved to touch his skin. Sliding up his shirt to leave teasing touches on his warm skin. So sensitive just from this? Oh.. poor guy and his shallow breaths.

Nodding desperately and pressing his forehead against the tree, “Yeah...please? I’ll behave.” Ethan’s little breaths and begging made you hum against his neck. Leaning back a bit to really take in how eager he was. Already the perfect putty for you to play with. “Where’d all your attitude go? Lost it in your throat, did you?” He could handle a little more teasing, couldn’t he? Well, he better handle it.

Pressing your chest against his back as both of your hands made it under his shirt, keeping him stuck against you. Sliding your hands up his stomach as you smirked at his surprised noises. Leaning your head to the side to glance at his reddening face. With a resolved whisper and a meaningful sharper press against him you teased, “You better have a condom with you, otherwise I’m leaving you here.” Ethan shuddered against you and slowly dug into his front pocket, pulling out a condom. An amused hum escaped you. Had he really been preparing this whole thing? So needy, especially the hopeful look he gave you. Looking innocently in your direction, waiting for you. So obviously you took the condom and held it between your teeth. Hands are busy creatures.

A quick look around confirmed that you two were indeed alone. The group had continued walking along the trail. ‘This can’t be any more perfect.’ 

Finally you got to work, moving your hands to remove Ethan from his pants. As soon as the zipper was opened you pushed his pants down to his ankles. Enjoying how Ethan shivered and kept an anticipation filled gaze on every small action on your part. Keeping one hand on his surprisingly already hard dick, palming him through his boxers with slow movements, while the other was presented before him. He looked at your fingers for a moment before opening his mouth for you.

A swift push and you could hear him slightly gag on your fingers. Lewdly sucking at them as if they were a meal to devour. Slurps and whines left his lips that were neatly around your fingers, keeping them wet as he looked at you with a proud look. Trying to milk any sort of praises from you by sliding his tongue all over your fingers to show how good he was. Only for you.

With a breathy whine from Ethan you withdrew your hand, pushing his boxers out the way, the slick and wet fingers toying with him before slowly pressing a finger into him. Savouring the gentle gasp it earned from Ethan. You had never seen him this way and honestly. You kinda liked it.

The teasing and slow moves your fingers did in order to prep the guy earned a whiny sigh from Ethan, “Can you just do it already..I can’t wait..” Halting your hand for a moment, giving him a scare of leaving completely before harshly shoving two digits into him. ‘That should shut him up,’ A sharp breath in did exactly that, leaving Ethan wordless.

Soon enough Ethan was rocking back on three of your fingers, hands balled into fists against the tree as he desperately tried to find some sort of satisfaction. Something deeper. The heavy huffs and puffs by him helped quite a bit by making you more willing to be in him already. The sounds were sweet and addicting. You really couldn’t wait anymore.

Pulling your hand away made Ethan turn his head in your direction, not that he could see much from over his shoulder anyways, which left a pout on his needy and red face. Though the sound of your zipper opening peaked his interest. Pushing your pants and boxers out the way, quickly ripping the condom open and rolling it onto your dick.

Lining it up with his needy hole left you little to no time to think before Ethan himself pressed himself back against you. Forcing you to enter him, his back arched immediately and a pleased mewl left him. “Oh… so someone’s this needy?” The chuckle didn’t even make it to Ethan’s ears, he was too busy getting himself used to you.

To help him along you pressed yourself against his back, pulling him a bit up so instead of his head resting against the tree it was his chest that touched nature. Hands holding onto his overly warm skin, massaging it with gentle touches.

“Move.” Aand there was the signal you needed to hear. The first pull back, leaving only your tip buried into Ethan along the need-filled buck, completely sheathing yourself into the warm and gushy walls earned a low groan from the both of you. Ethan felt so damn good around you, it felt as though he knew exactly what to do and when. Perfectly keeping you snug inside him.

Leaning your forehead onto his shoulder you began bucking yourself in and out of him at a decent pace, not enough to be considered ‘teasing’ but not fast enough to properly stimulate the whiny Ethan beneath you. This was supposed to be a bit of a punishment to Ethan for being annoying after all.

Never did you think that Ethan would be vocal…well this vocal. It almost felt like he was living through this ten times in one go. From fear of people hearing you took a hold of his head, pressing your palm over his mouth. Gently pulling his head back a bit as his body rocked along with every thrust you did. Feeling how the warm air from his nostrils bushed your knuckles while he tried to keep sounds to a minimum. Spoiler: it wasn't really working. 

Ethan seemed to grow more and more needy as time went on and his moans and mewls only increased your inner need to fuck him completely dumb right here and right now. So as any guy would, you picked up your pace.

Each nasty slap of your pelvis meeting his ass earned a breath from you and a pleased yet muffled moan from Ethan. Feeling how sensitive he was, all because of you, made you proud. You didn’t even know why. Ethan was your best friend for fuck sake….this was no activity between friends. You knew that but didn’t acknowledge it.

Suddenly Ethan shuddered in your grasp, tightening around you. Even from underneath your hand he managed to whine out ‘Keep going- that…fuck..’ Ah so you found his prostate. A smirk made its way to your face. A new purpose made itself visible. With unfaltering thrusts you drove yourself into himself in just the right angle to brush against his prostate. Toying with his sensitivity to see him crumble and wither in pleasure.

The filthy slaps of skin to skin contact came to an abrupt stop. Making Ethan grumble and look over to the side to give you a glare. Seeing the focused look on you made him follow your line of sight. ‘Oh.’ Someone was there. From the faint sounds that grew louder you could figure out who it was. Jana.

She was calling out for someone…wait you? Why the hell was she looking for you? Didn’t the rest of the people keep going? So why was she walking back after you?  Unbeknownst to you Ethan squinted his eyes in displeasure. Not only because Jana had stopped you from moving but because she was getting on Ethan’s nerves. How did she not get that you were his? He decided to prove it to her once and for all.

With sly actions he began moving against you to keep the momentum going. Who cares if someone is walking past, right? Ethan just needed to keep his lips shut. With a shocked look you put both of your hands on his hips, trying to keep Ethan still, to which he just looked at you and whispered, “I’ll keep quiet…’s need to feel you..”

With a silent sigh you gave in and let Ethan move against you, though you kept your attention on making sure the coast would be clear. ‘Omfg Jana walk faster.’ Mentally cursing at the snail speed Jana seemed to be using to pass by. Ethan, who noticed your focused manner, smirked at the information and picked up his pace, perfect for catching you off guard. Really bucking himself back to feel you.

With a sick idea, he opened his mouth to let out probably the most lewd moan ever. Loud too. Just when Jana was done passing by yet not completely out of the picture. Ethan was purposefully whining and moaning your name to make Jana jealous. So this was a jealousy thing between Ethan and Jana, huh? In Ethan’s mind this whole scene confirmed you were properly his and if Jana knew better she’d back off.

With a quick and harsh manner your hand was over Ethan’s mouth again. “The fuck are you doing!? Shut up Ethan.” He just pressed himself against you and mumbled ‘She’s gone..’ against your hand to urge you to fuck him again. He was correct that Jana was gone now and the others would make it to the cabins from the other side. Oh...Ethan was so going to get it, now that it was certain no interruptions would happen. 

Freeing Ethan’s mouth, instead gripping his hips to drill yourself into him. You were pissed at his jealous stunt but with his moans hitting your ears you couldn’t stay mad at him for long. Surprisingly enough his sensitivity hadn’t gone down at all given he let out every sound imaginable when he felt you target his prostate. Feeling him twitch and shudder, how he tightened around you, how his legs threatened to give out because you just felt sooo good in him. So perfect.

With a whiny mewl Ethan let his head fall forward against the tree feeling how his body rocked along with your harsh thrusts. Eyes pressed shut as shaky breaths left his parted lips. He came. And hard. The sticky substance painting the tree, dripping down in small droplets. Hmmm, at least it's some nutrients for the tree? No clue.

The tight squeeze of his ass only heightened your own need to find your relief. Hands gripping Ethan’s hips to the point of leaving bruises as you pushed yourself as deep as possible. Breaths heavy and rugged. ‘So close.. So damn close.’ Only a bit more, Ethan could handle it, yeah?

That warm knot in you tightened even more and with a low groan you sheathed your dick into him as hard as you could in your hazed state that was looking for the tipping point. Pulling Ethan tight against you as you came. Just keeping him close as you came down from your high, warm breaths against his neck.

Ethan could feel how warm his insides were, though he didn’t show his disappointment of not properly being able to  feel it. Lifting his hand up to hold your head, messing with your hair as you were nuzzled into his neck. “Feel better now?” Oh for fucks sake..of course he was going to be unserious and continue his previous banter.

“Yeah. Refreshed and dealt with.” He shivered a bit from the chuckle, and reference to the earlier conversation, against his neck. Smiling to himself as he felt you lean back and slowly pull out of him. Slowly making sure he was mentally good enough to go back to the cabins. Wouldn’t want to miss this too much. To not miss your dick too much. Yeah, a hard task for Ethan.

While you were busy with tying up the condom, Ethan slowly turned around to lean his back against the tree. His tired and satisfied eyes looking at you, admiring you with every inch of your being. It was clear that he was head over heels in love with you, yet you seemed to be so oblivious. Calling him a friend psshh as if. You couldn’t ignore him and his feelings now, right?

“What do I do with this?” Chucking the used rubber on the ground for a moment, just long enough to get yourself clothed up again. Ethan followed suit and picked the briefly discarded item up.

“I’ll throw it away, don’t worry.” He ensured and hid it in his hand for the time being, until a trash bin was visible. A small hum came as a reply for Ethan.

Taking the course back to the cabins. You two would probably need to walk slow for Ethan’s sake but also so the flushed and messed up appearances would fade. The smell of sex was most likely still around you two but at least you wouldn’t look like dogs in heat.

A quick glance to your right and Ethan’s proud smile was on full display. “Someone seems content.”

Ethan shrugged and clicked his tongue, “Very much so. 0-2.” You gave him a simple nudge to his side and gave a playful roll of your eyes.

“Help me think of an excuse why we were gone instead of keeping score. I doubt ‘I got lost with my friend’ is viable here. We look fucked.” Oh… Seems you still don’t see him as a partner, just means Ethan needs to try a little harder and he is known to be stubborn. He won’t give up until he gets what he wants, isn’t that right?

At least he can fondly look back on being fucked by the beautiful scenery of a lake behind you. Don’t get hard again Ethan.