#it sits somewhere... deep in my drafts

[bi-writes]

I feel like now that MOB and Simon are comfy together and truly utterly unbelievably in love, they'd maybe wanna have a wedding. Not in the traditional, big church tons-of-guests way, but like in the dress up, say vows, and show off your love to your loved ones (no matter how few) way. Not cause they need it or cause they feel pressured, but just cause it's be sweet. A beautiful memory for them (and an excuse for MOB to see Simon in a suit and for Simon to see her in a wedding dress yknow?)

mail-order bride

you're nervous.

more nervous than you felt on the way to this house for the first time. sitting in the back of that taxi, one suitcase in the trunk and the cat in the seat beside you, even then, even knowing you were heading to meet a stranger, you did not feel this type of nervousness.

it's deep in your belly. a taut force that tangles your insides, and you try to hide the shake in your hands as you close the small book that holds your vows and pick up the small bouquet on the dresser.

they're daisies, from the garden. simon picked them for you this morning, had woken you up by tucking one of the stems behind your ear. you made sure to add a few to your hair before dressing.

the silk sits perfectly. that shop on the main street had kept your measurements, and when you asked if they could make you something a little more special, you could not have envisioned anything more beautiful.

structured bodice to hold you in, draped in silk that fell over every curve and every line like falling water, in an elegant white that made the sentiment of what today would be all too real.

he's leaning against the doorway to the backyard when you open the bedroom door. you're barefoot, quiet, so it takes him a minute before he notices you.

both of you pause at a reasonable distance when you finally get a good look at each other.

simon looks so handsome. he's all made-up in his dress uniform, a faded green jacket buttoned over slacks with a khaki shirt underneath, but it is tailored to perfect, and the belt around his waist makes him look all the more formal. what really has you swooning is the lovely medals on his chest--lined up in beautiful rows, glinting in the sunlight as he tips the beret he's wearing to eye you carefully.

"christ," simon murmurs, taking both his hands out of his pockets. he clears his throat, shifting in his boots, and he finally holds a hand out for you, beckoning you forward. "wot a bloody sight y'are, luv."

you pad forward, smiling, and when your hand fits in his, you both squeeze, staring at one another with grins that won't fade. he leans forward to pressing his face to yours before making his way outside with you.

there's a seat under the tree, with a small table beside it. there's flowers everywhere, petals across the grass, and you follow simon under the shade as he takes a seat, guiding you into his lap so you both can sit there for a moment.

it's quiet. there's a light breeze making the leaves fall, but the sun is peeking through the clouds, and you can see the cats in the window, staring at you both as they chew between nips of cat grass. you set down your bouquet on the table beside you, settling in simon's lap as you hold the notebook to your chest.

"can...can i go first?" you ask, and simon reaches up to brush a few strands of your hair out of your face. he nods, adjusting you in his lap, and you try not to focus too hard on how much your hands shake as you flip open the little book you're holding.

the first few pages are your first few drafts, scribbled out with messy pen strokes. you settle where your real words begin, somewhere in the middle, jumbled between messy handwriting since you spent so long perfecting it all.

"simon," you start gently, and you relax a little when you feel his hand settle on your lower back, soothing you gently as he listens. "i had no idea what i was getting myself into all that time ago. my entire life, it's felt like...i've felt like i've just been running. running from the things i've always been afraid of. from people that i didn't trust. from the things that have happened and the things i thought might happen. in fact...i felt like if i didn't keep running, something terrible would catch up to me."

one of your hand falls, and simon covers it with his own. the shaking settles, and you continue.

"and then i came here," you whisper. "i-i..." you swallow. "i-i came here, and i ran right into you." you notice a few wet spots on the pages, and you steady your breaths, trying not to focus too much on the wetness you feel along your cheeks. "a-and you caught me."

you look over at him, and he's smiling, dark eyes trained on your clasped hands in your lap. he squeezes, bringing your hand up to his mouth, and you have the courage to keep going when you feel him kiss your knuckles.

"i don't know how we found each other. i-i don't know who knew that this house was mine. i don't know who understood that there was an empty place inside that belonged to me, but i'm here now. a-and i'm not...i'm not going anywhere."

you bend, leaning forward, and you press your forehead to his temple.

"no one has ever loved me the way you do, simon riley. and i-i promise i will try until forever t-to do the same for you."

it hurts. there's a place in simon's chest that physically aches, like a tender wound, squeezing against his ribs as he hugs you close to his body. the time with you is precious. he fears the moment he knows that there is not much left, but that time isn't now, and he cherishes that fact.

he has always carried a sense for those kind of things. he can tell when there is little left, like knowing there is nothing more to drink in canister without shaking it. it's a feeling, one he knows well, but he doesn't feel that with you, not yet, and he will consume every breath he can that he shares with you until then (because when he feels the time waning, he will give you every breath of his that remains if it means you get just one more second of this life).

simon reaches into his jacket, pulling out a small paper. he unfolds it gently, still holding you close, and you cling to the lapels of his jacket as he talks to you in that low, soothing voice of his.

"'m not sure where t'start," simon chuckles. "was hard for me to think of wot t'say t'ya." he takes a small breath before kissing your forehead. "'s hard ta think about wot it was like before i had ya 'ere. only eatin' because i had to. only leavin' the house because the job demanded it of me. like the whole world was a terrible fuckin' grey. so fuckin' quiet, i could hear this nasty ringin' in my ears."

simon crumples the paper a little, and you wrap a hand around the back of his neck to anchor him.

"honest...i thought the job would 'ave me. tha' i'd go out in some reckless sort of way, or maybe i'd just...let it take me with it one day. and when i knew y'were comin', i still thought tha' was how it would be. tha' i'd settle in it alone, on my own, like i always 'ave."

you close your eyes, and you can hear nothing besides his voice.

"thought i'd run outta luck. thought crawlin' out of my fuckin' grave was the last thing that they'd ever give me," he mutters, and you suck in a shaky breath when you hear the paper crumple sharply. "i don't know wot i ever did to deserve someone like you, luv. 'm not good. never 'ave been. the things i've done, wot i've seen, i wasn't meant for good things."

you pull back a little and open your eyes, and simon's own are full of pain. he grips your waist a little firmly, digging his fingers into you there.

"'n ya aren't just good. y'r perfect. like y'were made in my dreams. and still y'r 'ere, and ya haven't left, and..." he swallows. "nothing else matters, swee'eart." his eyes meet yours. big, brown ones, sadness so permeable, striking, an unnerving kind. "family is oll that matters." when your foreheads touch again, you can't stop yourself. his voice is low, gravelly, weighed down by some kind of pain that you'll never understand. simon has pieces of himself that are missing. people from a past life that he tries to keep finding, things that he knows should be here, but will forever disappoint him by no longer being real.

when he puts his hand over your heart, you can't see him anymore, not really. your tears blur your vision.

"y'r all that matters."

when you cut the cake in the kitchen, you feed each other small bites of decadent chocolate, and when you finish, you gift each other the vows you've written, to tuck away somewhere special, to read when the world gets too loud or when the colors of life get washed out by meaningless distractions.

the dance in the kitchen has lasted for minutes or hours, you can't remember. the music is soft, and you're swaying, but time is meaningless when you're looking into simon's eyes.

it is a part of him that will never change. you memorize how they look, because you want to recognize them in every place that you see them. you want to remember them everywhere, now, soon, until time rots the plants above the sink and kills the vegetables in your garden and makes threadbare the kitchen towels on the counter--you want to remember them.

so you can find him in this life, and every other one that comes after.

[shinestarhwaa]

DADDY DEAREST || CHOI SAN

Genre: Smut

Pairing: San x Fem reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Tags/Warnings: Dilf!San (aged 40), reader is 21 years old, forbidden love kinda, ceo!San, student!reader, daddy kink, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, blow job, praise kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, filming sex, jerking off

I've had this in my drafts for months and finally it's coming to life y'all

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @vesvosmozhno @therealcuppicake @unholywriters @enbymingi @jjoongstar

ENJOY!

You had been eyeing him from across the bar for hours, but he just wouldn't look your way. "Just go up to him," your friend said, "go up to him and flirt with him!" "But what if he's a creep?" "Just send your location if you're going somewhere with him," your friend said before pushing you into the direction of the handsome man sitting at the bar.

Taking a deep breath, you strutted towards him, your stiletto heels clicking on the wooden floor as you did so. You took place on the blue velvet stool next to him and flashed the man a smile, batting your long eyelashes at him. You could tell by the expression on his face he was immediately intrigued by your presence.

"Hi there," he said, turning towards you, "what's a lovely lady like you doing here alone?" You grinned and ordered a martini, tossing your hair back over your shoulder. "Oh, I'm not alone, my friends are in the back." "Ah," the man smiled and gave you a nod. You licked your lips before speaking again. "But I came here to the bar by myself 'cause you looked rather lonely and I figured you must like having some company," you smiled, drinking from the cocktail in your hand. He grinned and turned his body to yours.

''Well, I didn't have anything to do or anyone to come home to so... I figured I'd have a drink here.'' Your ears perked up and you took another sip of your martini. ''No one to come home to, you say?'' You spoke to him with a pout on your rosy lips, your hand gently resting on his. Your fingers traced the veins on the man's hand and you noticed him swallowing thickly.

''That's right... No one to come home to. What about you? You're here to find someone or are you out with your friends because you're tired of your boyfriend?'' he grinned. You laughed and shook your head. ''No, my boyfriend's an ass so I dumped him this morning. That's what he deserves for dipping his pen in the company ink if you know what I mean,'' you sighed. ''Oh, so you're here to look for a rebound, I get it,'' he smirks. ''I'm San, by the way.'' ''Nice to meet you San, I'm Y/N,'' you said, batting your eyes at him.

This flirting game wasn't new to you. You knew just what to do to make a guy weak but you've never tried an older man before. But after the shit boys your age put you through you're over it, you are ready for someone older. And San looked like the perfect guy for it.

You sat and talked with San for nearly the entire night. You found out he's double your age and he's a CEO of a big skincare company. He laughed loudly when you told him you couldn't live without the brand. ''Well what if I'd give you products for free?'' he grinned. ''Oh, you would?'' ''Well, you're too pretty to say no to.'' ''So you'll say yes to whatever I ask of you?'' He smiled and rolled his eyes, his hand landing on your exposed knee. ''Probably. I'm a sucker for those eyes of yours, cannot take my own of them.''

''So, if I ask you to take me home tonight...'' ''I would in a heartbeat, my darling.'' You smirked as his fingers traveled up your thigh. ''You'd treat me better than my stupid ex-boyfriends, wouldn't you?'' ''Oh baby I would, you have no idea.'' You smirked and took his hand in yours. ''Then take me home and show me.''

Only 15 minutes later you signed to your friends you'd be leaving and you made your way to his huge luxury apartment nearby. You couldn't believe your eyes when you got in, seeing the gorgeous interior San had. Before you could say anything his lips were on yours.

San's lips were so soft and they moved skillfully. He wasn't sloppy or too harsh but perfect. This is what you needed; a man who knew what he was doing. All your ex lovers were just doing whatever, not really caring about your pleasure, but San was seemingly different.

His hands roamed your body and zipped down your dress, which fell down to pool at your ankles. You were left in the lacy lingerie set you put on earlier that night and you noticed the way San stared at you after breaking your kiss.

Your hands worked on his white shirt, unbuttoning it as fast as you could while you were stumbling through the hall, on the way to his bedroom. You nearly tore his shirt off and San took off his belt in the process, the metal buckle clashing against the floor tiles. It was a struggle to move through the apartment while keeping on stealing kisses.

Finally when you got to the bedroom he took off his pants and laid down on the large bed. You smirked and laid on top of him, connecting your lips together once more.

San's hands roamed your ass and squeezed it every now and then, while his tongue explored your mouth. Your hands ran across his toned chest and arms and his chiseled abs. He was absolutely to die for, looking like a Greek God in his 40s.

You started to grind your crotch against his, awakening the cock that was still hid by his underwear. He moaned into your mouth and fidgeted with your bra-clasp before undoing it and throwing it to the other side of the room. You sat up and threw your hair back, licking your lips while looking into his eyes seductively.

"God, baby girl you have no idea what you're doing to me," he grunted as you moved your crotch over his once again. His hands traveled from your waist up to your breasts to cup them. "You're perfect," he breathed out, starting to massage your boobs. "You should come closer so I can have them in my mouth."

A smirk played on your lips as you did so, crawling above him until your breasts reached his face. He started to lick and suck on them while his dominant hand found your clothed pussy. He started to rub your folds through your panties, feeling the fabric getting wet at his touch.

You whimpered above him, clenching your needy pussy around nothing. "You're so wet for me," San said before circling your nipples with his tongue. "Yes, daddy, for you," you moaned. The older man laid you down and took off your wet panties.

Immediately you spread your legs for him, awakening a hungry look in his eyes. San laid between your legs and slid his fingers through your wet folds, moaning at the feeling. "Bet you've missed looking at a young, tight pussy like mine," you teased him with a breathy laugh. "Oh, I sure did. Look at this perfect wet pussy," he grunted, licking a stripe up from your hole to your clit, "Perfectly wet for me, ready to be abused."

You let out another whimper as he kept lapping at your pussy. Your hands ran through his raven hair and you pushed his face deeper into your cunt. San's tongue found your entrance and slid his tongue in and out before circling your clit again. He lapped and sucked on your cunt, savouring all the arousal spilling out of you. Your hands fondled and massaged your own breasts.

He focussed on your clit, circling it with his tongue and sucking on it, earning a row of high pitched moans from you. He made you feel sensations you hadn't felt for a long time now and you wanted it to go on and on forever. Your legs locked his body between them, face pushed deep into your soaking heat.

San pushed 2 of his thick fingers into your cunt, pumping them in and out of your hole as his tongue was still flicking against your sensitive clit. It didn't take long before San found a sensitive spot inside you, noticing your reaction to it immediately. Naturally he started to abuse it, hitting it repeatedly as he sucked on your clit.

He didn't pressure you to cum fast, like many other lovers had. San focussed on pleasuring you, not caring how long he had to keep lapping at your clit.

But soon enough you felt a coiling desire for release in your abdomen, your moans growing louder. "D-daddy, daddy I'm coming, c-coming for you," you panted out before releasing and coming undone on his fingers and tongue.

You panted softly before sitting up and pinning the older man down on the bed. Stripped from his clothes he looked beautiful in all his naked glory. His cock was beautiful and large and so thick it made your mouth water at the sight.

You lowered your head into his lap and pressed kisses along his thick shaft before giving the head of his cock soft kitten licks. He groaned softly and you felt your entire body react to it immediately, pussy clenching around nothing. His reactions to you taking him into your mouth made you more eager than ever. You started to bob your head up and down calmly, sucking his hard cock. He grunted beneath you, his breathing getting louder and his eyes rolling back into his head.

''Darling, please-” He moaned as he felt himself hit the back of your throat. You tasted his pre-cum on your tongue and you could tell how close he was lo cumming down your throat. Quickly he pulled you off his cock and watched your face pout in disappointment.

“Don’t want to cum in your pretty mouth while I could also cum in that tight young pussy of yours... Need to fuck you right now angel.”

He pulled you on top of him and you held onto his broad shoulders. Soon enough you sank down on his hardness and you could feel San stretching your poor pussy out. You moaned loudly, looking down and seeing his cock disappear between your thighs.

''You're so pretty and warm babygirl, oh my God, so tight, bet you've never been fucked right,'' he grunted. ''N-No they've never fucked me right, God, I need you, need a real man like you,'' you moaned to butter him up and tease him even more.

''Bet your boyfriend wishes he was inside you right now. How did he make you feel Y/N? Did he fuck you as good as this? Like I can?'' he grunted while he fucked up into you, his hands groping your ass and thighs. ''N-No, fuck, his cock was too small, d-didn't feel anything, you make me feel everything, San, fuck me harder daddy, please!''

While San pounded into you from beneath he also took your phone. ''Unlock it. Let's make that bastard who hurt you jealous. Wanna make him miserable for wasting such a pretty girl's time.'' You unlocked your phone and handed it back over to San.

You leaned back, displaying your naked body while you moaned loudly. San started to film you getting your cunt pounded by him and you might've been acting a little extra pornographic for the video but San didn't mind. Even though he didn't know the guy he desperately wanted to claim you and make him lose his mind.

''That's right baby, take my cock, you're taking it so well, huh?'' ''Y-Yes daddy, fuck, love your cock so much, you're gonna make me cum!''

Right then he turned the camera off and tossed the phone onto the bed, fucking into you even harder. ''That small-dicked idiot will never get to see you cum again. You're just gonna cum on my cock now, won't you?''

''Yes, yes please I wanna cum on your cock, yes!'' you cried out. In a matter of a few thrusts you came undone on his thick cock. You moaned loudly and your body shook as the orgasm came over you. San pulled you off his cock and laid you down, hovering above you before fisting his own cock.

With a loud moan he spurted his cum over your abdomen, painting you white. ''Fuck, daddy,'' you moaned softly. ''That's my good girl,'' San smirked.

After the both of you came down from your highs he got a cold, moist towel and cleaned you up nicely before placing his blanket over you. You snuggled into it and closed your eyes, but whined when he got up. ''Stay with me,'' you mumbled softly, feeling sleepy but also cuddly.

San smiled and laid down. It conflicted with his morality, sure, sleeping with a 21-year old was already a bit over the line but actually sleeping and cuddling with one, wanting to date one... Was that okay?

Luckily you knocked those thoughts right out of his head when you laid on his chest, drifting off to sleep. He soon did the same, dreaming of eating your pussy the next morning when he'd wake up.

[tacticaldiary]

It All Comes Crashing Down

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

She presses the metal radio against her lips and mumbles her final words, hoping that although he has not spoken, he would hear.

"I love you, Simon.

A/N: The classic 'bomb my location' fic you've all been waiting for! This has been sitting in my drafts for weeks, so I'm glad I finally got it out- I'm thinking about a part 2 where she wakes up and it's some extra fluff, maybe?

Masterlist

She takes a shaky breath in as her hands grip her rifle tighter, but when she speaks her voice is as steady and firm as ever.

"Bomb my location."

The words are acrid on her tongue, but they feel right to her heart. Her mind is in disarray, trying to piece together any other solution that won't have her ending up under dead under pounds of rubble, but she knows deep down that there's no other way out of this.

An entire enemy organisation eliminated at the expense of one soldier.

It was a win-win for everyone but her.

And that was alright. She's made her peace with it, made it the moment she signed her name on those documents giving her life away to the tang of blood and the scent of gunsmoke.

"Level the building." She continues, wincing at another hail of fire that rains upon her. Heavy footsteps and orders barked in Russian move around her location. Steadily being surrounded, there was little hope for a smooth extraction or escape anyway. "Have Soap blow the charges, Captain. Then send in the airship and raze this hellhole to the ground."

"Like hell we're doing that." Gaz's voice comes through her comms, frustrated. "We're not leaving her, Price." They must have rendezvoused successfully, because Gaz doesn't speak through the comms, rather it sounds as if he's turning away his head to speak to the man directly.

It brings a small smile to her face despite the circumstances. Her boys would get out of this, at least.

Simon. Her mind flashes to her Simon and she thanks whoever's above that they had split up before everything went to shit.

It had been fine at first. She was setting the charges they needed to bring the building down while he fetched the intel from somewhere else, and really, she should have been suspicious when it all went smoothly.

She'd planted the last charge before the enemy started closing in.

Like rats, they seemed to emerge out of nowhere shooting her down and pinning her until she had no choice but to slip away and barricade herself in one of the nearby rooms. The entrance and exits were likely swarmed with people and here she sat, in the heart of it all.

Unreachable, untouchable.

She sort of tunes out the muted conversation on the other end, lets the ringing on her head take over. Loud angry cursing, yelling in distinctive Scottish, the harsh rasp of her Captain telling everyone to calm down...it all floats through her mind.

Everyone but Ghost.

She doesn't hear his voice...but he was alive, wasn't he? She'd seen him slip out of the building through the window in front of her, so she knows he must have gotten out. The thought makes her gut curl up, brings her back to the present.

"Negative, Sergeant." Price's voice cuts through her thoughts, much louder than the others. "We're mapping out a route to come get you-"

"Price, it'll be suicide." Perhaps it's the way her voice softens and quiets, the gentle way she talks so different from the harsh way she's spoken earlier. It's as if she's accepted it, is content to lay down and allow herself to be swallowed by the dirt she came from. "I'm one soldier. Don't make yourself visit more than one coffin."

"I'm going to-"

"Set off the charges."

There's a beat of silence, painstaking silence where nobody speaks. Even the gunfire outside the room she's barricaded in seems to fade out for a moment.

"Copy."

A death sentence coming from the man she considered family.

It cracks a smile out of her. She squeezes her eyes shut, lets her head fall against the blood spattered wall behind her.

"Make sure my replacement's just as much a pain in the ass to you, alright?" If the way her voice breaks at the end of her last sentence is noticed, it's not brought up. "Simon's gotta have someone to push around, yeah?"

"There's no replacing you."

There's arguing. Soap and Gaz are yelling, and it's startling because she's never heard either of them shout the way they are, at their Captain nonetheless.

It's comforting to know she was cared for, even if she's about to die.

A sudden bang on her door makes her jump. Muffled Russian filters through the old wood. Someone ramming at it with something, trying to break it down.

But it doesn't really matter, does it? She'll be going out on her own terms even if they find her now.

Ghost...Simon. Where was he? If there was one thing that'd settle her mind right now it'd be hearing that gravelly voice, even if it was merely yelling at her, telling her how stupid it was to suggest what she has.

A desperation claws at her chest, deep down. She wants Simon, wants to spend the night in his bed again, wants to hug him, feel his skin, wants to see those rare smiles of his one more time.

Just once.

Just one more time before she-

"Charges setting off in 5-"

How cruel was the world?

She hopes Simon knows that she didn't mean to leave him. That she wanted him to go on without her, to not fall into the void of 'what-if's.' It wasn't his fault.

Her eyes burn but she refuses to let out the helpless sob clawing its way up her throat. She wants...she wants so much. Wants to do so much more, wants to live, and breathe and smile and laugh and experience and live. Simon. She wants to tell him so much more.

If she could go back in time and fill their silences with all the words she wants him to know right now, she'd do it in a heartbeat.

It's an impulsive decision, how her hand shoots up to grab at her radio frantically. Switching it to the private line between just the two of them, she presses the metal against her lips and mumbles her final words, hoping that although he has not spoken, he would hear.

"I love you, Simon."

The ground crumbles beneath her, the world turns to black.

                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Slipping out of the small shed, he tucks the papers into his vest. For a multi-national organisation, they sure were stupid as hell when hiding their intel.

Scanning the grounds for any movement, Ghost moves out, keeping to the shadows until he reaches the edge of the field that morphed into the woods farther down.

"Intel secured, moving to rendezvous point now." He says into his comms. He frowns when he doesn't get an answer back, grabbing his radio and speaking again, casting a glance back into the foliage in the distance where he knows the others have staked their place to operate from.

Price, Gaz, and Soap were operating remotely, dealing with drones and distant detonation devices, whereas the other two had infiltrated the building separately.

Plant the charges and secure the intel. Simple tasks made difficult when they both realised that the intel wasn't in the building, but instead in the shed attached to the side of the complex instead. Splitting up had been the most logical thing to do, even when Ghost had refused at first.

"It'll be fine. Quick and easy, right?" She'd told him with a grin. "Get that intel before I'm out of the building and maybe I'll give you an extra treat when we get back." Ghost had rolled his eyes at her suggestive wink.

"Does anyone copy?" He says into the object. He's met with nothing but muffled crackling and garbled speech, tinny and indecipherable. Ghost scowls at the machine, ripping it off of his vest and turning it over. It crackles and pops with bursts of sound but nothing cohesive enough to interpret

"I-...ou...Simon"

"Fucking thing's busted." He mumbles to himself, shoving the item back into his vest, his hand brushing against the folder of intel he's successfully recovered from the shed attached to the main building.

He can spot one of the convoy vehicles near the edge of the woods, but he doesn't let his guard down even as he crosses the field towards it.

Ghost barely takes a step through the dead grass before the building behind him goes up in an explosion that makes even him unsteady with the force of it. Flames lick up the east side of the massive structure and Ghost takes a second to watch as it crumbles in on itself sending up clouds of dust and debris.

Good fucking riddance.

He's looking forward to getting the hell out of this place once he rendezvous with everyone else. This mission had stretched on for far longer than it should have, the elusive bastards slipping away through their fingers time and time again with dirty, underhanded tactics.

The foliage grows thicker as he steps into the woods, rifle at the ready. A click of a safety had him raising his weapon and spinning around immediately.

When he sees a very familiar mohawk, however, he lowers his weapon instantly. "Blue!" He says loudly, bringing up a hand to half Soap. "Just me, Johnny."

Soap follows suit and lowers his weapon, his shoulders visibly relaxing the tiniest bit. "Welcome back." He says, but something about his voice makes Ghost uneasy. "Price and...and the others are prepping exfil." He gestures towards the clearing.

"Everyone else made it back?" He asks as they push through the meager trees and into the open space where soldiers are rushing around tying up loose ends.

"Aye." Soap chokes out.

Ghost would question it, but he's too busy doing a sweep of the clearing, putting names to faces. Price and Gaz were there, going back and forth over something. It strikes him a little odd how furious Gaz looks, Price looking so resigned but he pushes it away in favour of catching a glimpse of the person he's more inclined to spot.

"We tried what we could, but she was pinned down." Soap breaks the silence, misinterpreting the reason behind his silent staring at Gaz and Price. "We didn't...Laswell's insisting immediate evac, but Gaz wants to at least find a body to bury." A bitter laugh that makes Ghost's stomach drop like a stone.

"What?"

Soap rakes a bloody hand through his hair, shakes his head, and continues on like he's in some sort of shock. "I don't want to. I think she'd rather us leave her buried there than dig out bits and pieces and bury her again." His voice cracks.

Bury...?

There's only one woman in their team.

There's only one person he hasn't accounted for in the clearing.

There's only one person he hasn't reached on his comms before they broke.

The world spins, his mind screams and falls silent, a crescendo of noise and denial. The ground shifts beneath his feet, rocking him into a state that makes him feel like he's walking on string.

"MacTavish." His words are so calm and even, it's eerie. "Is my girl still in the building?" He feels detached from himself, perhaps a way to distance himself from the pain of the implied.

Soap looks at him for a long moment, then croaks out one, broken word.

"Was."

And it all comes crashing down.

He's been through torture before. Had his skin marred, his fingernails torn off, been hung from his ribs but nothing, nothing has ever come close to the way his heart twists.

Nothing had ever made him panic in a way that has his throat closing up.

"Christ." Johnny breathes, and it's a sound that drags him back from the brink of something horrible. Soap's eyes are fixed on the empty spot on his vest that holds his radio on normal days, horrified. "You didn't bloody know." He states.

Wasting time answering is useless. Talking, speaking breathing is useless because not a moment later Ghost is sprinting towards the rubble.

The rubble that he had just watched fallen. The building he'd stood there and watched fall down, had felt pride and relief in seeing.

His gear digs into him, the air thickens with smoke and dust but he doesn't stop. Vaguely he hears people yelling after him, hears Price and Gaz and Soap and every other motherfucker who stood by and detonated the charges. Friend or foe it didn't matter to him right now. If someone dared to get in his way he'd mow them all down, grind them into nothing and keep going.

They blew the charges.

The airship would be here any minute to finish the job.

No, he'd get to her by then. Ghost slams down into the ground somewhere near where they split off. He'd find her by then, and he'd bring her back, bring her to medical and she'd be fine in a week or two.

There was no other fucking option.

The debris rakes off the fabric of his gloves, splits the skin on his fingertips as he hauls and pushes and pulls and digs through stone and metal and wood, leaving evidence of his efforts in the form of his own blood behind.

She had to be okay.

Not her. Not like his mother, not like his brother, not like his nephew.

Not her.

He digs, calls out her name until his voice is hoarse, pulls away piece after piece of rubble until his fingers are torn to shreds.

Just as he hears the sounds of incoming aircraft, he spots something that makes the knot in his chest slam against his ribcage in pure and utter terror.

It's been a while since Simon has felt fear this pure.

Hair that he's familiar with, strands that he's gripped and gently soothes his fingers through peek out from under the piece of metal he's just lifted.

Unable to breathe, his attempts at moving the earth increase tenfold. He picks off stone after stone, brick after brick until more of her body is uncovered. Still, unmoving, bleeding. Once he's gotten her top half free, he hesitates for one horrible moment because what if he looks down to see a still chest?

Steeling himself, he bites the bullet and curls an arm around her waist, pulling her out of the debris.

The relief that slams into him when he feels her shallow, breaths against his palm is almost enough to send him to his knees.

"I've got you, love." He mumbles, half to himself as he adjusts her in his arms. She's dead weight, pulse barely there but present.

Cuts and bruises, Ghost can name at least five lacerations and countless other places she's bleeding from, a broken arm, leg, and who knows what kind of internal bleeding.

Alive.

But still alive.

And that was enough because like hell Ghost was going to let the one good thing in his life slip through his fingers ever again. He'd drag whoever he needed to her aid, he'd go to hell and back just to make sure she got to open her eyes again.

With limps that ache and a heart that's heavy, he quickly moves them out of the rubble, just in time to see two aircraft circling their location. They hadn't dropped any explosives yet, which a far part of Simon's brain thinks might be Price's doing.

Uncaring of whoever was watching, because frankly everyone could fuck off right now and it would be preferable, Ghost presses his lips to her hair as he moves into the clearing with her.

"Medic!" He barks out. "Right fucking now!"

He ignores Gaz's strangled gasp, ignores the way the entire team approaches them and tries to help. Ghost is a little concerned that if he let the adrenaline that's pumping through his veins go, he might just collapse as well, and that was unacceptable at the moment.

A weak hand grasps at the front of his vest, his eyes snapping immediately to her at the movement.

"S...'mon?" She says, words so faint he barely hears them?

"I'm here." He confirms, pressing his face to her hair harder. "I've got you, darling." He whispers. "I've got you."

It soothes her, because she nods against him and lets herself relax. It's only then that Simon notices she's holding something in her good hand in a deathly tight grip.

Upon closer inspection, it's a radio.

"I-...ou...Simon"

Fucking hell. His grip on her tightens.

She'd been trying to contact him in what she thought were her last moments, and he'd never have known because his fucking radio was broken.

It doesn't matter, he tells himself, chants it over and over again in his mind. He's got her again, and like hell is he ever letting go now.

When the medics bring out a stretcher, Price has to talk him into letting her go down into him, practically ordering him to let the bloody medics do their jobs. He doesn't stray far, however, keeping a hand on her at all times. Sat next to where they were working on her in the helicopter back, never once do his eyes stray from her unconscious form.

She wakes up once or twice, whines, and fights against the medic's hands with a panic-induced haze. Every time Simon is there, holding her hand, muttering rough, soothing praise and assurances.

It calms her down immediately, the trust in those far away pain-addled eyes when they meet his is enough to make his heart twist.

Simon stays with her the entire time, and then takes residence in a seat next to her hospital bed on base, ready for when she wakes up.

Hell would freeze over before Simon would ever let them be apart again.

If that makes him selfish, then so be it.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(12/08/2023)

[toxicanonymity]

busted (jailbird one shot)

2.5k WORDS, JOEL "JOJO" MILLER x f!READER SUMMARY: You roleplay as cop and sex worker. WARNINGS: I8+, no plot just smut, roleplay, manhandling, handcuffs, bj, unsafe PIV, creampie, fluff. writer chooses not to warn in further detail, read at your own risk. Read alone or see jailbird masterlist for relationship & reader history. NOTES: On hiatus, but this has been in my tumblr drafts since 3/20. Ty for the ask. They've both served time. This happens while Joel's aunt/your former cellmate is still locked up. Ty again to everyone who made me write cellmate's nephew (history) 💀. Divider by @saradika-graphics. @toxicfics for notifications.

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You sit on Joel’s bed alone, wearing a short skirt, a lace bra, and fishnet stockings he already ripped wide open the last time you wore them. You finish lacing up your boots, tuck a wad of cash into your bra, and get a tictac mint from your purse. Then you put on the bag and close the bedroom door behind you as you leave. 

As you walk into the living room, the front door opens. You realize you’re holding your breath and feel silly. Your heart skips a beat when he steps through the door. 

He pauses long enough for you to take in his whole form. . .tattooed arms swelling out from the sleeves of his slutty, blue uniform. Your eyes fall to his crotch as he turns to face you. The tight polyester pants leave little to the imagination. The whole, massive outline is visible atop his thigh, straining the fabric. He smooths his mustache and tilts his head, checking you out. Then he keeps a straight face as he steps toward you and says,

“‘S’cuse me, miss. Can I see some ID?”

Your heart flutters. You’ve played the part so many times. Played lots of parts. You're used to being who the client needs. But here you are with a little stage fright in front of your boo. And Jesus Christ, there’s something about his prison tattoos bursting out of that uniform. 

You stand still in the middle of the room and he slowly paces around you. A few feet away, but close enough to smell the cigarette he must have enjoyed outside and the cologne he reserves for date nights. The sight and smell of him makes you tingle. His touch might make you physically swoon. He clears his throat, and your face heats up. You lock eyes with him, and there’s a sparkle in his gaze, but he manages to hold firm, not breaking. 

“I, um – I have it somewhere.” You rifle through your bag.

“What’s that in your brassiere, ma’am?” He takes a baton off his hip and gestures to your bra cup. Your chest is lightly dusted in a caramel flavored shimmer powder.  

“Oh,” you stammer, looking away.  “I dunno why I put this here when I have a purse,” you mutter, half out of character.

“Just what I was thinkin’,” he cocks an eyebrow at you. He begins to stalk around you again, getting a little closer with each step, closing in on you. Then, he holsters his baton and stands behind your back, close enough to feel his body heat. You turn your face to the side and his scent wraps around you. 

His hardness lightly grazes you, and you push your ass back instinctively. His left hand comes to your hip as his right hand snakes around your torso.  His voice is deep and gruff.

“I’m thinkin’ this is dirty money.”

He trails his fingers slowly up your sternum, then over the curve of your left breast to your black push-up bra. You watch the faded barbed wire flex on his hand as he slides two fingers into the bra cup, retrieving the cash. He lowers his volume and his lips brush the shell of our ear. “Real dirty, honey.” 

“It’s nothing,” you shake your head, getting into a better rhythm. 

“Lemme take this off your hands,” he offers and lifts the strap of your purse off your shoulder. He stuffs the cash in it and tosses the purse to Mabel’s easychair. The tictacs rattle as it lands. He returns behind you, and this time, both hands go to your hips.

“I’m thinkin’ we can work somethin’ out,” he murmurs. His hands meander up your sides, then back down. He holds onto your hips and pulls you back against him, lightly grinding his hard length against your skirt, making you throb. 

“Fuck, Jo,” you whine in a whisper, pushing back on him like you shouldn't be. He exhales what you're pretty sure is a laugh. You can picture his smile. You're not ready to throw in the towel on this scene. You compose yourself and ask, “What are you doing?” You step forward, away from him, then turn around with a glare. 

He slowly rubs his arousal and adjusts himself. Then he puts his hands on his hips and shifts his weight. He looks you up and down, slowly shakes his head, and clucks his tongue.  

“Y’know, I didn’t wanna have to do this.”  He reaches behind his back for his cuffs, and you head for the door. 

He grabs you by the arm, and you continue to pull away. 

“No,” you protest emptily, tingling at the thought of him getting rougher.

He wraps a strong arm around you and you keep squirming. He lets you pull away toward the door until you’re up against it. He presses his weight against you with a forearm on your upper back and warns, “Resisting arrest?” 

He wrangles your arms behind your back, and the cold metal edge makes you shiver as your first wrist is cuffed. The second cuff clicks into place and he tightens them. Your cuffed hands desperately feel around the front of his pants, and he shifts his hips to help you find what you're looking for. You softly moan when your palm meets the hard length in his pants. 

“So now ya wanna be good,” he taunts, then lets out a barely audible grunt, pressing his hips forward, arousal swelling against your palm.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, officer.” He takes your hands and puts them on your mid back, and you keep them there. He yanks the whole skirt up over your ass in one go, watching your ass drop, fishnet diamonds stretched over it. His hips push forward and his hardness makes you throb. 

“Spread’em,” he commands. 

You widen your stance. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, then wedges a hand between you and the door. Your palms rest on his tummy as he shoves his hand between your legs and feels how wet you are through the pre-ruined fishnets. 

“Alright, let’s make a deal,” he growls, then cruelly takes his hand away without so much as putting half a finger in you. 

He grabs you by one arm and pulls you over to the sofa. “Knees,” he murmurs, and helps you down onto the carpet. He pats your head then sits down on the sofa with a sigh, manspreading. He splays his arms out on the back of the couch and looks at you affectionately for a moment before his face hardens again. He takes off his fake utility belt in a hurry. 

“Got five minutes to convince me not to take ya in,” he warns, "If ya can handle it." He lifts his hips, giving you a rush of arousal. He pulls at his uniform pants, and they snap open at the side. This must have been quite a hit all those years ago on stage. For you, he's not wearing anything under them. You glance at his hip tattoo. Yeah.

He frees his massive cock and wraps his hand around the clean shaven base. He squeezes it as he looks at you darkly. "Such a bad girl." He scoots toward the edge of the sofa. Your hands are still handcuffed behind your back, skirt still sitting up above your ass.

You lean forward, dip your head, and he feeds you his cock. You slurp the fat head into your mouth and he sighs, watching you with a softening scowl. "Fuck yeah," he breathes. His knees bracket you and help you balance with no use of your hands as you bob your head. He moans as you suck him. You stretch your jaw, sucking at the smooth, salty tip, then take a few inches into your mouth and hold it, feeling him throb. "God damn," he curses softly. You suck with the back of your throat and carefully take as much as you can, expertly swallowing his length. You take him so deep that your lips brush his shaved pubic skin, and your eyes prickle with tears.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Get up here.” 

You slowly let his cock out of your mouth, and a string of slobber falls away with it.

He grabs your arms and helps you stand. He could stand to be rougher about it. But he's all but abandoning character, overtaken by the way you make him feel. The real you.

He helps you balance as you kneel onto the sofa, straddling him with your thighs spread wide. His breaths are heavy and getting heavier as he eyes your tits and the front closure of your bra. 

He sits up straight. He wraps an arm around you and interlaces his fingers with one of your cuffed hands. "Doin' so good, baby." With his other hand, he swiftly unhooks the front clasp of your bra, and the cups break apart, letting your tits fall out.  He takes a nipple into his mouth, then passionately licks and kisses his way up to your mouth. He palms one breast as he sucks the other and holds your hand behind your back. He pulls you right against him so your clit presses against his warm, hard cock and it makes him moan against your breast as he throbs against you.

He moves you, grinding his cock on your clit. He kisses your breast again, then drags his nose up your chest and feverishy kisses you everywhere on his way to your neck, where he sucks you long and slow. He lets go of your hand and slides his hand down, reaching under your ass to your cunt, where he slides his fingers through your slick then spreads you open for him.

He maneuvers you up to get clearance for his cock. He runs the tip through your slick, then massages your clit with it before notching at your entrance. You twitch at the contact, then begin to sink onto him and he pulls you down with a grunt.

"That's my girl," he breathes.

His lips find yours, and the kiss is long and slow with him seated fully inside you. He moves you on his cock, and his hips roll under you at a slow rhythm, stretching you with his girth, making you twitch already. You break the kiss with a moan.

You look down between your bodies, then purr, “is it hot in here, officer?” 

“God you're fuckin’ hot,” he gushes with urgency.  He reaches in his shirt pocket for the key to the handcuffs and wraps his arms around you. His cock twitches and he fumbles around as he uncuffs you. You rip open his snap button uniform top, then cradle his face and your lips smash back together and his tongue finds yours. He pulls you close. Your tits press into his chest and you moan into his mouth as you roll your hips.

You sigh and curse and moan against each other's mouths as you ride him.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes. “I coulda came soon as ya—fuck–the way you were clawin’ around for my cock just to feel it—ohhhh.”

He playfully plucks at the fishnets then kneads your ass as you fuck. He lets you take the lead, sliding his hands down to your legs, then your boots. He sighs, "Ohh, baby," as you ride him.

“Yeah,” you breathe, feeling sharply on the edge already, with his cock inside you and the ghost of it pressed up against you through those pants. 

“Ohh, fuck,” he pants, “yeah.” His flesh fills yours so perfectly, stretching you around him. Your body wetly hugs his length as he smoothly thrusts up into you. He growls into your neck, “I can't get enough’a ya.” You card your fingers through his hair. 

“God you feel good,” you gush. “So fucking good. He’s kissing your neck wet and sloppy now. You both breathe audibly. "God, I love this cock," you pant. Your breath is shallow with your pending peak. You grind against him, then let it overtake you. “Fuck,” you breathe as your walls flutter around him. 

He groans as you come on his cock.  As you finish your peak, he’s clearly holding back. You look down at his inked torso glistening. 

You both watch where your bodies meet, and you tell him, “i want you to come.”

“c'mere” he takes your jaw in one hand, and brings your lips back to his. He holds you tight, kissing you for a few thrusts, then his lips fall apart to moan and breathe vocally as he fucks you.

He pulses inside, pinching his eyes shut. He groans into your cheek, and you finger his curls as he pumps you full. Then you relax into his arms.

-

You share a long moment without words, and he holds your head. Then he uses his chest to push you slightly off him. He looks you in the eyes, then does a double take down to your tits and dips his head to kiss one before returning his attention to your face. 

You're still on his cock, and the stretch persists even as he slowly softens.

He looks back and forth between your eyes and blurts out, “you should move in.” 

You laugh in shock. 

“‘m’serious, baby,” he says with a smile. You bite away another laugh and his smile fades. He whispers, “Dead serious.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, then breaks away to await your answer. 

You haven't thought about it, really. Not yet, anyway. But it doesn't feel out of the question. You glance over to Mabel’s chair. 

“She knows,” he assures you. It doesn't make a difference right now, but you pray she'll get paroled sooner rather than later. 

“Just think about it,” he offers. 

You nod and bite your lip, running your hand through his hair affectionately, still plugged by his cock. "Tempting," you smile.

“I'm a lucky man either way,” he says.

Your face heats up, and you reflexively lighten the conversation. “Why’d ya cuff me if ya wanted me on top,” you laugh.

“Hell if I know what I want,” he admits. He kisses your neck then murmurs, “Just want ya every which way all the time.”

thank you for reading, and thank you for your support. love you guys <333. my tag list is gone for real this time, sorry. I'm also on a break from writing & reading but had this in my drafts.

[stevebabey]

this is pure stupid hell crack that took more time than it should’ve to finish BUT i’m ready 2 release it from my drafts <3 this is actually technically written partially w @corrodedcoughin in mind bcos i think u will mighty enjoy it! for cockney eddie!

It comes with the territory, the accents.

Drama kid or dungeon-master, either one could be credited with contributing heavily to his affinity for all of Eddie’s little voices.

There was the deep, low raspy one reserved for trolls in campaigns — and a nasally high one he used for goblins to pair. Wise wizards giving out crucial advice sometimes had a strong Scottish drawl to their words. And Dwarfs? Always English.

So, yeah, Eddie has a couple different accents in his different repertoire. Pulls them out as he needs — a regal tone when referring to Hawkin’s very own royalty or a buried Southern twang used when he’s in trouble with Wayne. The most common is a shoddy Cockney accent for when any conversation dips too far towards awkward or boring.

It's why it's not so surprising anymore when they just... slip out sometimes.

He's learned more now, when specifically not to do it (Mrs. Donnell had not found his plea for a re-sit, in a heavy Irish accent, endearing in the slightest). But with friends who know Eddie, they know the accents come along too.

Steve fucking loves them.

The first time one had taken over his voice, some New Yorker twang to carry a joke, Steve had laughed so hard he’d snorted. And god, had Eddie lit up at the noise— loved knowing that, deep down Steve Harrington had a delicious wonderful ugly laugh that he only showed to people he trusted.

Basically, it’s hardly news to Steve then, all of Eddie’s little voices.

But well, even Eddie didn’t expect… okay, the truth is he never expected to be in this situation at all.

It’s a Wednesday evening when it happens. Steve is over round the trailer like he is every Wednesday, keeping Eddie company while Wayne is out on the double night shift.

It originally had started out as ensuring wounds were checked and dressed properly — considering half of them had scaled up his back, where Eddie couldn’t reach — for the both of them. Then, when technically Eddie could manage the worst of his words, Steve was still coming around. Dustin’s insistence, he’d said.

Then it was… because Eddie asked Steve to come around, to stay a little longer.

So, Steve Harrington is in his kitchen and it’s a Wednesday ritual that they have together and that’s not even the weird part of the evening.

(And somehow, neither is the fact that Steve is, as of a few months ago, his boyfriend.)

Steve’s cooking. Something simmers low on the scarlet glowing hob, bubbling quietly and releasing aromas of spices that percolate into the Autumn evening air.

Eddie feels his stomach growl in its own twist of hunger as he follows his nose. With one hand still scrubbing a towel against his wet hair, he ambles down the hall, fresh out the shower, ready for love — be it the form of food or, he thinks giddily, kisses.

Steve’s not watching the food as Eddie enters, his eyes fixed somewhere across the room. There’s a crease between his eyebrows, an indication of his deep thought.

Eddie grins, approaching without any attempt of being sneaky, (Steve’s as good as comatose when he’s distracted as he’d found) and jabs his boyfriend’s calf with his toe.

“Thinking mighty hard there, Stevie. That’s dangerous.”

Steve jolts, snapping out of his thoughts. He straightens up automatically, then seems to recall the company he’s keeping, and relaxes back down.

He scowls affectionately at Eddie’s barefoot, still jabbing into his leg, and reaches out to flick it with his finger.

“Dickhead.”

Eddie’s faster. He dances away and laughs at the instinctual pout that forms on Steve’s lips.

“What ponders thy mind, hm?” Eddie drawls, a lilt of a Regency style accent in his voice. He sinks into one of the kitchen chairs and drops his task. The towel hangs over his neck, his damp curls resting against it.

Steve seems to jolt again at that, his shoulders rising for a moment. He spins, picking up the wooden spoon beside the stove to swirl the contents of their dinner around. Eddie admires him, broad shoulders and long back, ripe for his taking. Silently, he sighs dreamily on the inside.

“Just… what movie we’re gonna watch tonight.” Steve says unconvincingly. “I’m not doing another re-watch of the Fly.” He adds lamely, an attempt at his usual bitch.

Eddie lets him have it. With one final squeeze of the towel, trying to wring out all the droplets in his hair, Eddie abandons it on the chair as he stands. He waltzes forward, into Steve’s space, and hooks his chin over the other's shoulder.

“You know, that’s what you said last time.”

Steve side-eyes him, his eyes narrowing into a minuscule glare; bitch personified. Eddie grins. Then bats his eyelashes.

It makes Steve laugh, shrugging Eddie’s weight off politely as he gives their dinner another stir. There’s still this tenseness to his frame. Though, maybe it's one Eddie can only notice because he’s paying such close attention.

“Alrightttttt,” He pretends to relent dramatically, his hands coming up to give Steve’s shoulders a quick squeeze. “I’ll let you pick the movie tonight.”

He drops his hands back to his sides, smarmy grin already plastered on as Steve turns to face him, the wooden spoon placed down on the bench.

“Oh, you’ll let me, will you?” He gives this incredulous look, even if there is this playfulness toying at the corners at his lips.

“Uh huh,” Eddie affirms with a severe nod, then begins counting on his fingers as he lists off. “No badgering, wailing, complaining, of any sorts I—“

Suddenly, Steve’s reaching out, his deft hands reaching out to snag the waistband of Eddie’s pyjama pants. It supposed to be a smooth move he’s used countless times before; fingers looped through belt loops to pull a girl in for a kiss. It usually works like a charm.

Except, there’s no belt loops— and when Steve tucks his fingers beneath the waistband and tugs him forward, Eddie shrieks.

“Fucking christ, Steve!” He bats Steve’s hands back without thinking. Steve holds them up defensively.

“Sorry! I was just—”

“What are you doing sticking your hands in my pants?!”

“It was a move!” Steve insists, voice a little whiney. “God, you’re dramatic- I was trying to pull you closer, numb-nuts.”

“Oooh,” Eddie switches up in an instant, hands shooting out to grab Steve’s own. He pulls them forward and settles them on his own waist, shuffling in closer like he hadn’t just shrieked a minute earlier. “Continue.”

Steve chuckles, delight peeking through on his face. His hands, large and slender, curl around the skin of Eddie’s waist and Christ, he’s still not used to that. Eddie’s too focused on repressing his shiver to see the shadow of nervousness cross Steve’s face.

“I was actually thinkin’ about,” Steve starts lowly, eyes skirting off Eddie’s face, over his shoulder. His fingers tighten their grip. “How—”

He sucks in a breath, like drawing in courage, and meets Eddie’s gaze. “About how much I love you.”

There’s the smallest tremble to his voice, giving away the immense emotion behind the words.

And here’s the situation that Eddie never expected to be in, ever. His breath catches, his eyes widen — his heartstrings tangle and knot themselves as he soaks in Steve’s admittance. Love, love, love — he loves me.

His lips part, a raspy noise escaping as he tries to compute, tries to think of anything to say because the longer he stays silent, the more crushed Steve’s expression becomes. And then—

“Well, I luv ya too.”

The words fall out, thick in that godawful Cockney accent.

Steve's face doesn't change but Eddie's does, contorting in an amalgamation of pure cringe and panic as embarrassment crawls beneath his skin. He slaps his hand over his own mouth as if it can take back his awful reply to being told he's loved by Steve.

"I—" He starts, speaking through his fingers, except it still comes out in a funny accent. Eddie squeaks, his grip over his mouth tightening, brown eyes wide in his panic. Oh God, never in stupid silly life has his accents come back to bite him in the ass so magnificently.

"I'm so sorry," Eddie whispers-yells in his regular voice, finally dragging his hands off his face sluggishly. "Jesus H Christ, I didn't— that wasn't making fun of you, I— oh god, you know that happens when I'm nervous sometimes. Shit. Shit, I'm so sorry, Steve."

Steve hasn't moved, his hands still resting on the small of Eddie's waist. His expression is guarded, nothing betrayed. His dark eyes scan across Eddie's face and just before he speaks, the smallest glimmer of amusement glitters across his face.

"Well," Steve begins, heaving a faux large sigh. His hands squeeze comfortingly at Eddie's waist again. Eddie who is still frozen, still cursing himself internally, still echoing around the apparently true fact that Steve loves him— well, maybe not anymore with how awfully Eddie responded.

And then Steve opens his mouth and the most appalling attempt at some accent comes out. It makes his words all garbled and Steve's pink in the face, obviously embarrassed but trying to commit to some shoddy Scottish when he says, "Aye, that's al'right."

Eddie stares at him. Steve stares back.

The moment of silence is broken as laughter seizes him, a guffaw bursting from his lips and holy fuck, Eddie loves him so much. Steve laughs too, the two of them relaxing and sinking into one another. Eddie's hands, previously fluttering and unsure, find their natural place curled in underneath Steve's jaw and when he leans in, he's fighting off his laughter. His grin is unbearably wide, cheeks aching.

Steve's got this shine in his eye, his hands sliding further around to pull Eddie in closer, his pink lips quirked in delight. Eddie practically purrs, so close to kissing him but not quite closing the gap.

"Yep," He says, eyes bright as they bounce over Steve's face to drink in his boyfriend's love-soaked expression. He loves him. Steve loves him. Eddie sounds as lovesick as he feels when he whispers, "It's decided. I think you're it for me, Stevie-baby."

He presses forward, lets his mouth find their home in the curve of Steve's lips. It's warm like nothing he's ever felt before, softened by their gooey-grins of love. It's an in love kiss.

"Even if you're terrible at accents." He murmurs against Steve's mouth.

"Shut up."

Steve hisses, but he’s still grinning. The dinner bubbles behind them, still cooking away behind them. "Like I'm ever going to let you live that down."

Eddie finds he doesn't really mind all that much — God forbid his boyfriend ever remind him they're in love.

"Shut up," He still says, then sticks out his tongue, like he's ten years old. "You love me."

"I do." Steve admits easily, his fingertips dancing along the small of Eddie's back. Eddie has to tuck his bottom lip behind his teeth to restrain his wild grin.

"And I love you." He says, properly this time, jabbing his finger into Steve's chest — so there's no absolutely mistaking it.

[kaiijo]

YOU & HIM AT THE CLUB — [BLUE LOCK]

characters: bachira meguru, kunigami rensuke, rin itoshi content: suggestive notes: dug this out from deep in my drafts 🙇🏻‍♀️

bachira meguru ✶

the actual embodiment of dress slutty, i can fight (his outfit is just as slutty as yours too)

he really likes seeing you in more risque and potentially revealing clothes 

he’s probably one of the best people to go with because his energy matches yours and the people around you in the club

absolutely tears up the dance floor with you. lowkey kind of a weird, flailing dancer but he doesn’t care and neither do you!

you’re definitely one of those couples that makes out against the wall or something. seriously, all over each other — bachira has no shame 

loves 2010s club music, will scream to any lady gaga or rihanna song 

kunigami rensuke ✶

he’s not super into clubbing but isn’t opposed to it either

he’ll go if you ask him to come but he’s not actively suggesting it himself

honestly really just like to sit on one of the club’s couches with his arm around you and drink and hopelessly shout over the music 

he really just likes being there with you and spending time with you

will dance if you ask him to (he’ll basically do whatever you ask him to at the club)

decent dancer, likes to dance with (and up against) you. whispers (well, as best you can in a club) dirty things to you and grips your hips tight. you probably don’t stay long and head back to your shared home to do a more private dance

rin itoshi ✶

good luck even getting him onboard to go

when you even suggested it, rin gave you the most deadpan look and asked, “why would i want to be somewhere with a bunch of sweaty, lukewarm people?” (to which you replied, “isn’t that your job already?” and your boyfriend shot you the most unimpressed glare you’ve ever seen)

still… rin’s absolutely whipped for you and you somehow manage to drag him somewhere a bit more lowkey than a club. he’ll probably sit in a booth and grumble and glare. 

unimpressed with the music and the people and the lights

absolutely will get into a fight with someone who tries to dance with you — you’ll need to pull him away and you’re both kicked out for the night

when you two get into an uber, rin scoffs at you: “you can’t tell me you’re actually upset. we can continue anything you were doing there privately. without all those lukewarm assholes.”

[tcfactory]

Since my brain has been full of SVSSS brainrot lately:

I want a fic where the transmigration mostly fails and Shen Jiu wakes up from his qi deviation as User002 with the goddamn System treating him like he is Shen Yuan. Trashy yellow book what??? No, he doesn't need stats on his fellow peak lords, if he is supposed to follow a plot then he wants to see the script! You wretched floating rectangle, how is he supposed to play along if he doesn't know the source material?!

The stress of having what feels like a very pushy curse or an insanely weird demon inflicted upon him makes him deviate from some minor plot points and he gets punished for being OOC a couple of times until the System takes pity on him and directs him to Airplane bro, with the very clear suggestion that if he can't remember the early arcs of the story - System understands, User! It's very long after all. UwU - he should go and discuss it with the author.

He basically kicks down Shang Qinghua's door in desperation for some clarity and maybe an explanation, right now before he works himself into a stress-induced qi deviation, Shang-shidi. Shang hamster looks at his miserable scum villain, takes a deep breath, brings out all of Shen Qingqiu's favorite snacks that nobody should know about, makes a pot of calming tea and tells him everything.

Shang Qinghua expects Shen Qingqiu to be angry, to rip into him for writing him into this wretched life. And Shen Jiu is angry, but not at Qinghua. His anxious, mousy little shidi who lives his entire life under the looming threat of a horrible, seemingly unchangeable future doesn't look like a god. Shang Qinghua, who does his best to run his peak well and look out for his disciples despite his admittance that in the story the original Qinghua did a shoddy job - he doesn't look like someone who would have put pen to paper and written a tragedy if he knew it would become someone's reality.

And how could Shen Jiu, who has seen people sell their bodies and their very dignity for a cup of stale water, judge someone for writing a very bad yellow book so he can eat? Please. Peak Lord Shen might have developed a very discerning taste in literature over the years, but you can't fill your stomach with artistic integrity, Shang-shidi. Shen Jiu understands.

So they sit and for that first evening, Shen Qingqiu listens to all the differences creeping into the story, Shang Qinghua's retelling of the drafts he abandoned due to peer pressure, the long rambling tangents of the research he's done, even if they never made it into the story. Qinghua is so caught up in having someone to talk to that he doesn't realize that Shen Qingqiu put everything that happened to Qi-ge together, somewhere between the musings about how a sword inspired by kintsugi would be so cool looking, shame that nobody ever sees the thing, and the griping about how much one of his patrons complained about Yue Qingyuan dying without ever drawing his sword.

Later, when the snacks are gone and the tea is replaced with something stronger, he tells Shen Qingqiu about the stories he really wanted to write. About how he shamefully sneaked his dream man into PIDW, just so he could have some small part to himself, and oh, Shen Qingqiu will have to remind him about demon courting practices when they are both sober again, because it sounds like that Mobei prince is down bad for him.

He leaves that night with a newfound determination. Shang Qinghua might be resigned to the whims of his System and the shackles of the Plot, but Shen Jiu didn't burn the Qiu manor down and break his chains to give up so easily. This is his world, his sect, his Qi-ge on the line, and he would sooner wrest control from the System and become custodian of the world himself than let something take away and ruin what is his. He is the strategist of Cang Qiong Sect, there is no situation he can't think a way out of and he has had enough of tragedies.

Before any of that, however, he needs to go and have a good yell at his Qi-ge, smack his stupid face and then curl up in his arms for a good night's sleep. It's long overdue.

[yandere-sins]

Prisoner #006

a/n: A spin on the usual yandere situation, but this story has been sitting in my drafts for a while, I think it's time to release it ^^

Fandom: Genshin Impact Characters: Yandere!Prisoner!GN!Reader x Prisoner!Kaveh Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Reader is being psycho, lost of mentioning of murder and death, Reader stabs someone... a few times, Scratching, Intimidation, Threats, Cornering and intruding on personal space), Long Post

[Prison Project Introduction | Pinterest Moodboard]

Kaveh should have been afraid.

Deep down, he believed he wasn't as stupid and gullible as everyone made him out to be, and yet, he sat still as you drew meaningless little patterns into his skin. The stolen pen scratched over his arm, leaving the area next to the ink red and agitated, but he didn't have it in him to tell you to stop.

You've been a depressed mess since you came to prison, not your typical murderer behind bars. He'd been dealing with a lot of them, and if they weren't the psychotic type, they were haughty and always up for cruel jokes.

But not you. You were... peaceful.

Even when you cried and begged him not to hurt you after you've been brought to his cell despite his protests, the air around you was calm. Unlike the storm of personalities outside the bars of your cell, Kaveh actually managed to think in peace when he was around you. He had learned to navigate and time his way around the prison. Still, with the ruckus and disgusting things happening in the shadowy corners, there was never any space for him to let go and relax for a while—until he met you.

The knowledge about your prolific murders should have upset him enough to keep his distance, but you reminded him too much of himself when he first came here. Scared and unable to go anywhere without being harassed by the others. You clung to him desperately when he told you to tag along to the cafeteria on your first night, and you still asked him to go to the washrooms with you for safety. Kaveh couldn't blame you for being scared. It was a scary world, outside and inside of this prison.

So even though he knew about your wrong-doings, he let you scribble your marks on him in ink. You were humming a song he hadn't heard before, your mind in your own world as you left butterfly wings and flower petals on his skin, and Kaveh honestly had no complaints. Coming here, art had become sparse around him, the radio rarely running, the TV filled with sports but never dancing or acting. The paintings on the walls leading to the facilities were, frankly, hideous copies of capitalistic emphasis, and the prison layout was a smack in the face of any architect.

And then there was you. Not a Picasso per definition, but you drew the patterns effortlessly, unbothered by pressure to perform and perfectionism. Every stroke of the ballpoint pen was all you, not a style you worked to learn or something you copied from another artist. It was all and truly just you. Kaveh had no idea how much he could admire someone—even someone as terrible as you. But he did.

"Let's leave from here. Together."

The words slipped from his lips before he could even think about them. Alhaitham's plan of escaping was still fresh, depending on some hacker he met in this prison, and Kaveh should have never talked about it so casually. He couldn't promise it, couldn't say it would actually work. But when you stopped scribbling, he realized his mistake, looking up at you in horror over his own blabbermouth.

Only to be met with tears streaming from your eyes.

"You'd take me with you? After all I've done?" you mumbled, rubbing the back of your hand over your eyes.

"You... you didn't do it to me. We could start over, somewhere new. Somewhere no one knows our faces and just... live. Quietly and unknown. Only if you want to come... with me."

For a long moment, you stared at him. Unblinking, unreadable. Your arms were thrown forward, wrapping around his neck before your whole body jumped into his lap, discarding the pen and leaving it to clatter on the floor. "Yes!" you agreed euphorically, smiling from ear to ear.

Kaveh felt the heat rush into his face, happiness prickling in the corners of his eyes as he hugged you back. It almost felt like you agreed to marry him, rather than just join him on the escape. But he knew then that he'd work hard to become the man you needed in the future. Someone reliable, someone who could provide you with a life that wouldn't need you killing anybody anymore. So that the dream of you two living together in peace could become reality.

«──────── 🗡♡ ︎𓍝 ────────»

Kaveh should have been afraid.

Deep down, he was as stupid and gullible as everyone told him. He believed that you could turn over a new leaf. Running away with you could become a new start, different from the pitiful life you two had. That the two of you could live away from cruelty and bloodshed, in peace and quiet and togetherness.

And yet, he was staring down at the cold-blooded killer he fell in love with. Whose trap had been placed so subtly that Kaveh ran right into it. He didn't even know you had a knife ready on the day of your escape, and there was no one left—alive—aside from you two to turn to. Everyone who had fled had spread into different directions, and now it was only him and you and the dead corpses of the police that had caught up to you.

It was his fault, entirely so. They might have survived this encounter if he hadn't gotten close to you and you hadn't been convinced to run away with him. Had he not gotten himself caught, maybe you wouldn't have turned back to help him and had kept running instead, far, far away. Perhaps you wouldn't have pulled out your blade and killed these innocent men who were only doing their job to keep unruly people away from society. That kept psychos like you away from more victims to massacre.

"[Name]..." Kaveh stammered, not believing his own, wide-open eyes. The hand he was holding out towards you was shaking violently as he watched you slam the knife into the policeman's back again and again, blood spraying all over you and the squelching sound of flesh being stabbed echoing through the forest. Somehow, he had gotten back on his feet after being tackled to the ground. However, now that he had to watch you defend him so violently, Kaveh wished he had stayed face-down in the dirt.

"GET YOUR HAND OFF HIM! HE'S MINE!" you kept yelling at the dead body, and Kaveh couldn't help but feel pity for the guy as you mauled him. "YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM! HE BELONGS TO ME! HE'S MINE! MINE!"

Your voice was a screech in the dark, possessiveness thrumming in every word you screamed. Even if you two had grown closer the last few days, Kaveh couldn't understand your thoughts. Although you had protected him, seeing the blood drip off you in the moonlight only sent shivers down his spine rather than thankfulness. And where he felt a crush bloom in his heart before, there was nothing but terror and disgust left.

"[Name]--" he tried again, this time a little firmer as he grabbed your shoulder.

Instantly, you whirled around, fury and madness in your eyes. The bloody blade swiped up his arms, cutting up the beautifully drawn pattern left by you. Kaveh knew it was just an accident, but he couldn't help but yell, "Ow!" holding his own arm firmly against his chest as he stared at you fearfully. Stumbling back, he tripped over a root, the pain of collapsing to the ground shaking him, but fear forced him to keep watching you. What if he was your next victim? Nothing about you screamed trustworthy, and yet, when you came to your senses, you changed completely.

Suddenly, your body went slack, eyes swelling up with tears as you looked at him. "Kaveh!" you sobbed, the knife falling to the ground as you stumbled to your feet, knees buckling so you collapsed into the dirt before him. You stretched out your arms, but this time, Kaveh managed to jerk away, avoiding your blood-soaked hug.

However, you were just a little faster than him. A little more alert. You managed to grab the wounded arm, your tears stinging as they fell into his wound. Leaning over his limb, you cried bitterly, but Kaveh couldn't help but try and tug his arm from your hands. Immediately, your crying stopped, fingers clawing into your skin as he tried to get you off him—no success.

"You can't leave me!" you sobbed, looking up with tears in your eyes. Manipulative tears, as Kaveh began to realize, the reality starting to dawn on him. "I love you! We'll have a life together! We'll go somewhere no one knows us! I won't kill again, I promise! I just didn't want them to hurt you... I wanted them to leave you alone! I won't do it again, I can be harmless, I promise!"

His gut wrenched, hearing you throw his words back at him. Now knowing how easy it was for you to end someone's life, how much of a crazy person you really were, it felt like he was the one that had been gutted. Maybe everything would be fine this time, but Kaveh couldn't justify it with himself to find out. Your hands were already so bloody; no trying to pretend you were normal was going to wash away your sins. At least he never killed someone. He couldn't imagine someone doing it as easily as you had, not even thinking twice before attacking.

"N-No..." he stammered, unable to put all these feelings into words.

"No?" you repeated, the tears stopping suddenly. "What do you mean 'no'? I saved you, didn't I? Without me, you'd be the dead one!"

Your tone changed so quickly that it scared him to the bone. The fire started back up in your eyes as you glared at him. Kaveh felt your nails dig into his arm, tearing apart layers of skin as your anger turned towards him.

"You won't leave me! You can't leave me!"

With your voice raising back into screeching, Kaveh shuddered, eyeing the knife that laid out of reach. You didn't need it, your nails cutting into his flesh just as painfully. Fear was mangling every muscle in his body, making them tense and tainting his judgment.

"O-okay," he stuttered out, and immediately, the pressure vanished. Your shoulders slacked, and a smile crept back on your lips as you whispered, "Thank god..."

You hunched over his wounded arm, now punctured by your nails and the cut starting to dry up. The next thing Kaveh felt was wetness wiping over his wounds, your tongue lapping off the blood that stained him, whether it was his or the one dripping from you.

"I love you," you mumbled while licking. "I love you, Kaveh. You're so nice, so sweet. You're perfect, and you're mine. All mine. Kaveh, Kaveh, Kaveh..."

Looking down at the unsightly view before him, Kaveh couldn't help but pity himself. Had he known what he got himself into, could he have prevented this? Which version of you had been the real one, and had you pretended to be sweet and shy, tricking him into this all this time? Or was it real? So many questions and so few answers. All he could think of was how he had been scammed yet again as he watched the ink smear from your licking, the beautifully drawn butterflies vanishing alongside those in his belly, all of them dropping dead.

And now, Kaveh was afraid.

[silversainz]

Hey can you write a smut with charles leclerc on number 16 and 21. Where he gets crazy jealous over other drivers flirting with the reader and the reader wears a purity ring which charles takes off himself. Pls :)

# Prompts requested — 16 “I’m gonna ruin you for anyone that dares touch you “ 21 “your body is mine, not his, not anybody else’s, and I’ll fuck you until you remember that“

# warnings — dom!charles, sub!reader, spanking, choking, jealousy-sex, purity ring, Fingering, p n v, dirty talk, this was in my drafts for so long.

“So y/n i have to ask..” lando’s drunk voice caught the attention of many which caused them to look between lando and you, who was sitting beside Charles arm draped over your shoulder and holding you close to him. “What is that on your finger?, did Charles finally man up and pop the big question” Your cheeks grow red at the sight of him pointing out your all too brightly purity ring.

Clearing your throat, you awkwardly chuckled “no, it’s an ring my father gave me” you kept the remark simple but the sight of Lewis’s head titling to the side and a smirk forming on his lips made your skin crawl and stomach tingle.

“A purity ring, cute” he drunkenly chuckled, before shoving down another shot. The rest of the drivers who sat around the table also laughed, making you hide your face in Charles’s shoulder. “Oh come on, don’t hide. It’s not embarrassing love” you felt Charles’ hold he had around you tighten up at Lewis continuation of words.

“Mate enough” Charles scattered out, bitting the inside of his cheek. The guys just kept laughing, but one driver kept his eyes locked on the purity ring with a sly smirk on his face.

“Well, whenever you’re ready to take that ring off, I’m here for you” mick’s joke made everyone stop laughing and look at Charles holding in there laughter.

You practically whined in charles’ shoulder embarrassment and shame washing over you. Charles tsk-ed at the younger man, undoing his arms around your frame and leaning forward arms on his knees as he eyed mick, a dark and angry Glare in his eyes.

“I think I’m gonna be the one to take that ring off first, before anyone else”

later that night, the words from mick repeated in charles’ head which is how you landed in the position you were in. he had moans and cries leave your lips that echoed off the walls creating an sound that he so deeply loved. He had you bent over his knees, dress pulled up to your torso revealing your ass to him that was now red and bruised with handprints from Charles, as he let his anger out from micks little comment.

“Fucking mick” he spat out the words letting his hand smooth over your red ass before landing another slap to it, making you jump hands digging into the couch that laid beneath you.

“Stupid, stupid, boy.” tears ran down your face as he suddenly gripped onto your hair tugging your head back to look at him, which made a smirk appear on his lips at the sight of your messy self.

“Look like a fucking mess just from me” he hoisted you up to staddle his lap. “Your body is mine, not his, not anybody else’s, and I’ll fuck you until you remember that” you couldn’t stop the whimper falling from your lips as he suddenly grabbed your hand harshly making the skin go red. His hand roughly pulled the purity ring off your finger, throwing it somewhere in the room. Before moving his hand underneath your dress, pushing your panties to the side his fingers lingered around your cunt. Thumb teasingly messing with your bundle of nerves making your hands grab onto the back of the couch tightly.

“Stupid fucking ring,” he suddenly pushed two digits in your wet cunt, chuckling to himself when he felt your walls tighten up around his fingers, “so fucking wet and tight” his hand gripped your throat, making you face him.

“Look at you” moans that sounded pornography fell from your lips as he picked up his pace and pushed his fingers so deep the palm of his hand met your clit. Eyes rolling back, back arching, Charles couldn’t help but to admire his beautiful ruined girl in.

“Fuck, fuck, Charles.” your hips rutted against his fingers, breasts bouncing up and down making your dress fall revealing your chest to him. He leaned forward taking a nipple in his mouth, his tongue swelled over the bub before latching down roughly with his teeth.

“Shit, Charles please”

Upon hearing your begs, Charles slowed his pace making you cry out and grab at his shoulders. “Who do you belong to huh” he grinned, hand gripping onto your jaw making you look at him in the eye.

Not hearing an answer he landed a slap to your ass, “who do you fucking belong to”

“You, fuck, you, please fuck me”

He dryly laughed, “good girl. I don’t need a ring to tell me when i can fuck you” you yelped as he pushed you off his lap and laid you down on the couch. He ripped off your panties, pushed your dress up. Spread open your legs and undid his belt. “Gonna fuck you stupid” he pushed his pants down freeing his cock, the sight alone made your brain dizzy.

He lined himself up with your cunt, tip teasingly sliding up and down between your folds. “I’m gonna ruin you for anyone that dares touch you”

Your back arched off the couch as he pushed himself all the way in your cunt, “you’re mine and only mine, fuck mick, Lewis and everyone else, because” his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, “ this pussy is mine and mine only”

[itskattkm]

The air in my lungs

Chapter 1

Cairo Sweet x Fem Reader

Summary: A stroke of fate changes you and leads you into the arms of Cairo Sweet. Will she be your downfall or save you?

Warnings: 18+, Grief, Injuries, Smoking, Trauma, anxiety, sexual content, student x teacher mentioned, harm, blackmailing, bad grammar

A/N: Based and inspired by Millers Girl. Mr. Miller himself isn’t really present but will be mentioned. Hope you guys enjoy. Also I’m not sure if I should make it a fem g!p reader. Let me now if so :)

Master list | Next chapter

It was almost the end of the current school year. Soon would be a long and warm summer in Texas maybe the last summer for Cairo here, before she would leave it for Stanford in California. As always she was one of the students that were pretty early, since this was a private school, she had pretty many ways to get in here and just do her thing. That’s why Cairo was working on a new idea for her book, holding a cigarette in her other hand. Not caring at all that she was smoking in the empty classroom. Well almost empty classroom. She had noticed you were sitting near her and gave you a frown. Why did you even sit so near. Like the class wasn’t already empty enough, couldn’t you sit somewhere else? Cairo was a bit pissed, she didn’t liked it when other students could see her work or maybe even interrupt her while working.

“I’m writing. I’d appreciate if you respected that” Cairo mutters, without even looking your way. She takes another drag of her cigarette afterwards. Her gaze fixed on the screen of her laptop.

You turned around “So what? I’m not allowed to sit near you?” You asked with a cold tone but a dirty smile on your lips making Cairo look up and straight into your eyes, with pretty zeros emotions.

“No.” Cairo replied, trying to go back to her writing without laughing. Unfortunately that didn’t happen, since Cairo was now laughing at your reaction. She put down her pencil, which had the cigarette dangling in her mouth still. Cairo turned and smirked at you. “You do realize you’re just asking to get teased, don’t you?”

You fully turned around now and walked towards her. In the way you walked Cairo could tell you were somehow… pissed? Angry? There was something frightening and exciting in the way you walked over her and suddenly stole her cigarette from her mouth, while taking a deep hint on it. Cairo was totally overwhelmed and watched you with fixated eyes. The cigarette left your lips and in the next moment you destroyed the cigarette by pressing it down on her desk.

The next move really caught her off guard. She felt like a frozen statue. Her brain wasn’t able to see that coming but still… it happened and she couldn’t do anything. You reached for her jaw with your hand and held it tight while pulling in and kissing her hard before releasing the smoke of the cigarette in her mouth.

Slowly your grip loosened and you took a step back while looking at her with the coldest eyes she’s ever seen. “Next time don’t smoke around me. I prefer fresh air” that’s what you said with your quiet but low voice before turning around and leaving the class room, making a departure like the newest villain in town.

Cairo was stunned. “D-Did that just happen?” She muttered, still reeling from the shock and adrenaline. She put her hand on her lips and bit them, trying to resist smiling. She turned to her desk once more, pretending to work, but couldn’t help glancing at the door every so often. She wanted to see if you would comeback, but she didn’t want her to get her hopes up. She took the pack of cigarettes from her purse and took another one. “Hmm.. fresh air?” She mumbled to her self.

The next morning was quite the opposite. Cairo was the first of all students like always. Sitting in class and working on her drafts till the teacher would arrive and do their thing. You weren’t there and Cairo could help but wondered why. Wondered why she never noticed you before. It was like you were some sort of a ghost. She knew her classmates. She knew you but still… she never really saw you. Then Y/N entered the classroom as the last one while everyone was already there. She sat down on her table in the last row and began to unpack her laptop, also waiting for the teacher to arrive now.

When Y/N raiser her gaze to look to the front of the class she saw Cairo sitting in the middle of the first row like always. She was holding a book in her hands that looked a bit older and seemed like she was Reading.

Like if Cairo had felt some sort of bigger power or more of a shiver down her shoulders she turned her head and glanced over to you, only to look away immediately, slightly blushing. She didn’t like the fact that you were making her blush already… but something deep down inside of her couldn’t help it. She still could feel your lips on hers. How surprisingly soft they felt and the way you stole her air while letting the smoke of the cigarette in her mouth. Like you were sucking out her soul or something. She could feel your eyes on her, and she didn’t wanted to think any longer about yesterday. So Cairo focused on the book she had been reading and turned to a chapter, ignoring your glances at her.

You couldn’t help but liked the fact that Cairo was turning around just to check if you were there. I small smile creeped up on your lips and you found yourself blushing. Feeling somehow proud and confident. But still, it was something you didn’t wanted others to see so you tried to get that fucking smile out of your face.

There was that invisible power, the urge to look back at you it was like fighting against the need, no the urge to look back at you and get lost in the moment. So Cairo looked over her shoulder with a blush on her face. She put the book down and cleared her throat. “Whatcha looking at?” She tried to say monotone to not show how excited she was. After that she put on her headphones and resumed reading as if nothing had ever happened. You continued to stare, so she shifted in her seat, getting irritated at the lack of privacy during a quiet time. Why couldn’t you just leave her alone?

You didn’t respond to her question. Instead you stayed quiet and kept watching at the back of her long and dark hair. It was quite interesting for you how her hair looked almost black but on days where the sunshine fell on them you could see they were quite the opposite. A hidden chocolate brown making your mouth somehow watering at the thought of chocolate itself, how stupid you thought.

When finally the teacher attended the class Cairo tried to focus once more on something else than you, but kept glancing at you every so often, only to catch you staring at her. Even if you didn’t say anything, it definitely made Cairo feel uneasy.

“Don’t break your neck while keep turning around to look at me” I texted her and the message popped up on her laptop, you could see from your view.

Cairo’s eyes widened at the message. It was from you. She read it again, making sure it wasn’t a mistake. She turned around towards you and typed, “Well, you keep looking at me, so…”

“Because the teacher is in front of you. If I were you I wouldn’t have choose the seat in the first row and in the middle of the class” the text popped up on Cairos screen.

“And so? I can sit wherever I want.” Cairo rolled her eyes but couldn’t contain her racing heart when she send the message.

“Then stop wondering or thinking that I look at you. I’m trying to pay attention to our teacher” you texted back fast. Cairo wanted to believe her, but wasn’t sure if her words were true. Cairo looked at you again, who was focused on the teacher now “You really don’t look at me? Not even by accident?” She texted back curious.

Another message popped up from you saying “Your in the middle of my sight it’s hard to ignore”. Cairo looked to the side and muttered, “Oh..” She looked at you for a couple of more seconds, only to give up and focus on the class again. The class was a bit boring since the teacher went on for quite a while about a topic that seemed uninteresting to Cairo. She continued looking at you, and finally decided to text her again. “So.. Can I ask you something?”

As soon as Cairo send the message she heard her own heart pounding so hard that it made her feel like dying, dying to know what you would say and how you would react.

“Wow is our A+ student getting bored of class? oh my god it’s a miracle!” You answered and hoped she would get the sarcastic hint. Cairo turned to you, rolling her eyes. She wrote, “Shut up, please. And yeah, I’m bored.” She added an eye roll emoji.

You held back a chuckle and tried to focus on the class again. Cairo turned back to the class, then a few words of the teacher’s caught her attention. It was the first time during the class Cairo was actually listening again. The topic of discussion was writing, and she was listening to the lesson. Writing about the perspective of someone who was fighting with being good or bad. There was a moment of silence after the teacher had finished the lesson, which caused Cairo to look at you with a mischievous smile. It lasted only a second, though. She looked down at her notebook, which had a couple of doodles on the margins.

“So? What was your question?” Popped the curious question by you at Cairos laptop up. She wanted to ask you something before you just ignored it and started discussing about who was starring at who and where.

Cairo wrote, “Do you actually like me or are you just flirting with me to be funny?” She pressed the send button without looking at you.

You held back a grin and answered “you think I like you?”.

Cairo’s jaw dropped slightly. She read the message and looked at you directly, now confused. She turned back around and huffed, “So you don’t?”.

“Depends” you send and hoped to tease her. Cairo looked at you as if expecting her to elaborate on that. When you didn’t, she texted again, “Depends on what?”. You couldn’t help but chuckled quite by yourself feeling how you were getting on the nerves of Cairo.

“It’s so funny when you turn around. Your reactions are really amusing me” you texted her and smiled wide in a cute but cheeky way to annoy her even more while waiting for her to turn around again. Cairo rolled her eyes but couldn’t help looking at you. She could’ve sworn she saw your dirty smirk, but she might’ve seen wrong. Cairo rolled her eyes again and looked back at the notebook she was now doodling in. The bell finally rang out, signaling that the class was over. Cairo put away her notebook and turned in her seat again, finding you already staring at her. “Do you… need something?” She asked slightly annoyed since you didn’t moved and kept staring at her.

“Oh yeah” you said calm and your eyes softened while looking at her expensive green leather backpack

“Do you have a cigarette for me?”.

A smirk appeared on Cairo’s face. She looked away, but her smile never went away. “Do you think I like sharing my cigarettes with every person I’m flirting with? I could be flirting with every person on this campus if that was the case.” She had a smug look on her face as she said that, knowing that your response would be interesting. Her smirk stayed on while she waited for you to react. Dreamy. That was the first word that came into Cairos mind when she saw you smiled and looking at her with tilted head “So your flirting with me?” You asked, your voice giving Cairo and weird feeling down her spine… a good feeling.

“Mhm..” Cairo said, still looking away, but smirking at you. She took a cigarette from her pocket, pretending to put it in her mouth. She glanced over at you. “You might wanna get closer for it..” she said in a teasing tone of voice. “I will… trust me” you whispered with a low voice and got up from your desk, walking closer towards her. Cairo turned, and smirked at your approach. “I wouldn’t trust anyone that easily, love.” She said, a smirk still on her face. She took the cigarette out of her mouth, and put it in Y/N for her to take if you desired.

“That’s good” you said in such a calm way it made Cairo feel goosebumps. The way you took it slowly between your fingers made it look like she was watching some sexual commercial or a thirst trap but then you destroyed it right beside her on the desk while smiling cheeky. “What did that cigarette ever do to you, huh?” Cairo asked in a joking tone. She smirked, but was now slightly startled. She looked over to you with a raised brow.

“Stop smoking my dear. It’s not good for you “ you whispered and left the classroom. Cairo watched you leave, a smirk still on her face. “I think I’m getting somewhere…” she muttered, and followed you.

[timeslugarts]

There was only one bed!

Vox x GN!Reader

Or, Vox and you go on a business trip and make a shocking discovery.

A/N - this has been sitting in my drafts for a little while, but I took that quiz that's like "what fanfic trope are you" and my result was the "only one bed" so I wrote a fic for it cuz it sounded fun! So enjoy!

Vox had to make an appearance at a business convention in Greed's ring, and as one of Hell's most prominent business men the owners had begged him to come. They showered him with gifts, gave him exclusive access, the real VIP experience. So he couldn't really say no, plus marketing opportunities were always a bonus.

The itinerary was a fucking mess though. He passed it to you, you grimaced and looked up at him. 

"They've definitely done this before, right? What is it? New owners?" Vox had been booked for back to back panels, making special appearances, a signing event, and even presenting for an award ceremony. It seemed a bit much.

"You know you're coming with me?" Vox perked a brow. A sly grin on his face.

"What? No, who's gonna run the company while you're out? Surely not an intern." You crossed your arms, popping a hip and looking at your boss.

"Oh come on doll," Vox stood up and circled around his desk placing his arm on your shoulder, a claw lazily lifting your chin up so you were face to face with him. "They'll be fine for 3 nights, plus I need my best girl, who else is gonna scare off the weirdos?" He bumped your hip with his own making you stumble. 

"Ugh Vox your so-" you stomped your foot, whipping around to look at him. 

"Handsome? Irresistible? Charming beyond belief?" He grinned walking towards the door out of his office. "Meet me tomorrow early so we can get going," he waved a hand in the air in a lame excuse for a wave, "Oh and don't forget to bring something scandalous for the after party."

You groaned, you could hear Vox chuckling as he made his exit. He was always such a flirt, it was unbelievable. You knew he only did it to fluster you, he would never actually act on anything. He was your boss. Sometimes though, maybe deep down, you wished he would. It was hard denying that your TV faced boss was attractive and after working with him for so many years you had to say his personality appealed to you as well.

But that would never happen.

The next morning the two of you met up, somewhere around 4 to hop into a car that would take you to the Greed Ring. You were both dressed in pj's and ready for the  long car trip, Vox even had a face mask perched atop his head, so he could slip it on immediately and get right back to sleep. Meanwhile you had your headphones with a white noise playlist queued up and blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Needless to say this wasn't either of your first rodeo.

You swiftly packed your bags into the trunk and tucked yourselves into the back seat.

Vox had his neck pillow on and was leaning back in his seat. You slipped out of your shoes, wrapped yourself up in your blanket, and as you were about to pop your headphones in you felt a small tug on your blanket. You looked down to see Vox's hand pulling the edge of your blanket towards himself.

You groaned inwardly. Fine.

You threw some of your blanket on Vox as well and he grinned wrapping his arm around you. His face mask was already over his eyes so his screen just pointed at the roof. 

"You know you could've asked the driver to turn up the heat." You shot at him.

"Yeah, but then we couldn't cuddle." He pulled you even closer. You could only grumble. Eventually you relented, laying your head down on the edge of his little pillow. Thank fuck for the mask, otherwise he would've seen how red your face had become from his obnoxious flirting. 

The two of you were out for the whole rest of the trip. The subtle vibrations from the car as well as Vox made it easy to drift away. 

It was about midday when the two of you finally arrived at the hotel you'd be staying in for the night.

With no time to lose you both shuffled out of the car, through checkout and into the shared bathroom of your space. You had places to be, you needed to be changed and out of there now. Bags left in the hallway of your room, teeth brushed (well yours at least), clothes changed, and you were both out the door in record time. 

The day was LONG. A whirlwind of nonsense, task after task after task. When it was over, the two of you were exhausted. Just shambling back to the room, your shoes were off and in your hands, Vox's tie was undone, neither of you had even said a word to each other in the past hour. 

The two of you walked into your shared space and froze. 

There was only one bed. 

They hadn't expected him to bring an assistant, of course he wouldn't need two beds.

You didn't care, you were too tired to care. You threw your shoes off and flopped face first onto the right side of the bed. 

"Guess I'll take the uh…" Vox's eyes frantically searched around the room, they didn't even have one of those stupid pullout couches, fuck! "...floor."

"What, what are you even saying?" You lifted your head groggily from the pillows. 

"I'll just sleep on the floor…" Vox was staring at the ground, refusing to meet your eye.

"What? No you won't, you'll sleep right here." You pat the side of the bed next. 

His screen ran through a quick series of glitches and left it at a swirling loading bar before popping back to his own face. "I can't just sl-zzt-sleep with you in the samEEee bed! Th-th-th-those idiots, I'll go down and demand another bed from-" you had grabbed his hand.

Mirth glinting in your eyes. Was Vox blushing? Finally the tables have turned. 

"You're saying you don't want to sleep with me Voxxy?" You pouted, his face started glitching again. "All this flirting and when the time comes you can't seal the deal." You shrugged. "Oh well I guess I'll just-" 

"Stop." Vox's face looked serious, a blush still tinting his cheeks. "I'll, I'll just, if it's ok I mean. I…" 

You giggled again, "Vox I'm just teasing, we're both adults here," you patted the bed again, "come on, I don't wanna bother the front desk, and I know you're tired too." 

He stood stock still for a second longer before sighing. Relenting he bent down and began taking his shoes off. When he was sufficiently comfortable he flopped on the bed next to you.

He groaned and you tried not to think about the way the sound traveled down to your belly.

"See? Isn't this much better than bothering the front desk?" You poked his shoulder. When you didn't get a response you poked him again.

"Is this gonna be a problem?" He spoke muffled by the pillow his face was buried in. 

"Hmm maybe." You poked him again. It was late and you'd been up for a LONG time now, you were giggly and slap-happy.

"Alright, that's it." He quickly rolled over and grabbed you, his claws tickling your sides. You squealed. "You're the worst assistant ever! You didn't even get a second bed!" 

"Hey!" You gasped between fits of laughter, "I wasn't in charge of this one!" You grabbed the pillow behind your head and threw it at his face, it bonked lightly off his screen. He froze staring at you in disbelief.

Maybe you had gone too far? 

A grin spread across his face, "oh now you're really gonna get it!" He chuckled darkly. His abuse to your sides got even worse as he started to add small shocks to them. You were laughing so hard you were sure you were gonna get complaints from the neighbors. You desperately tried shoving him off, but he managed to grab both of your hands in his much larger one. Holding them tightly above your head as his free hand continued. 

You were starting to gasp for breath, laughing far too hard, it was hurting. 

"Vox!" You huffed out and he stopped instantly, realizing that maybe he had gone too far. In that moment you both realized the exact position the two of you were in. Vox looming over you, his hand holding both of yours above your head, his other hand resting on your side, close to your waist. You both were panting, heart pounding.

You just stared at each other. 

"I… I um." He removed his hands from you like you had burned him. "Maybe we should go to sleep." 

You didn't say anything. 

He quickly laid back down and turned off the light. Mumbling a quiet goodnight.

You were still unsure of what had just happened. The way he was looking at you, it was almost like…

You peeked over at him, but his screen was already dimmed and he was laying stiffly. You slowly reached over and light as a feather touched his hand with the pads of your fingers. His hand twitched, but didn't pull away, so you continued moving your fingers into his own. Finally he reciprocated and his own fingers delicately wrapped around yours. You watched his whole body visibly relax and you smiled softly to yourself. 

As the night grew dark you both eventually fell asleep hand in hand. 

'Yeah,' you thought to yourself, 'This was much better than bothering the front desk.' 

[yarrowsrammarchive]

Imagination?

(afab reader x cis male ghost)

Showering at night always brought out the horny in you, and you never knew why. Was it some deep, evolutionary impulse that made you feel safer to mate at night? Was it the water? At any rate, here you are again, your mind firmly in the gutter, and your nipples hardening because of it.

That's why you thought it was your imagination at first.

It felt as if a tongue was lapping at your earlobe.

Then, it felt as if lips were kissing down your neck and across your shoulder.

Those things you could pass off as your mind, but then you gasped as two big hands cupped your tits. And it made you moan.

As your nipples were already perky, the intruder didn't have to do much to make them stand at attention. You felt fingertips rubbing them in circles, then pinching them. You reflexively arched your back and sent your hips backwards, and that's when you felt it.

There was a dick--you couldn't see it, but you could unmistakably feel it--and it was huge.

Whoever this was, he was already rock solid, so you decided, what the hell? You began to grind slowly against him, and his dick throbbed.

You like that, you dead bastard? You thought to yourself. As if responding to your thought, you both heard and felt the wind of a sigh ruffle the back of your hair. The invisible hands then moved slowly downward, down your lower stomach, to rest on your hips. He then ground his dick harder into your ass.

Awkwardly, you grabbed at one of the big, invisible hands resting on your hip, and moved it downwards. You parted the invisible fingers, moving them so that two were extended. You then slowly, slowly slid them inside you. You felt another, longer moan from him. The fingers then began to scissor, and you moaned, too.

So it went, his fingers working inside you, and your hips and his hips bumping and moving as he humped you. Suddenly, after several minutes of silence, he withdrew his hand. You only had a spare five seconds to ponder this before you felt the ghost's dick pushing into you.

You felt weight pin you into the wall, and a hand again rubbing one of your tits. You whimpered as your inner walls stretched to accommodate him and his big, thick rod. Despite being dead, he had gotten it up quite nicely, and you felt him twitch in pleasure somewhere deep within. Moving much like before, your hips went back, and his went forward. Giggling to yourself, you realized that you even heard and felt a soft slapping of balls against you.

He then changed his thrusts to be harder, and angled himself so that he kept hitting a sensitive spot over and over. It was too much to bear for the both of you.

As your pussy trembled, you felt a rush of tingling warmth let go. The ghost left a big, hot load fly deep up in you, causing you to sigh in pleasure. The soft dick then pulled out, and you felt a few fleeting kisses down the back of your neck.

The presence left, and you were left aching for more.

This was sitting in my drafts for a while, so I finally decided to finish it. There has GOT to be more ghost porn on this website.

Next, I'll either continue this, or write for a god.

Hope you liked

[plooto]

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ untitled . ft. katsuki bakugo

. synopsis -> you couldn’t deny the feelings you had for your classmate, for your neighbor.

. warnings -> neighbor!bakugo , bakugo’s potty mouth , readers nickname is bubbles , late night rendezvous , touching !!

. words -> 800

. notes -> please i am so unmotivated . who knows how long this is going to be in my drafts

you could wrap your head around it. why - why he hated you so much..

“ get outta my way y’damn extra! ”

gosh he was so mean. a- always shouting at you, there was no inside voice with him..

you tried just ignoring him, averting your gaze in the hall, but he was just so, so damn pretty you couldn’t find it in you to look away.

“ don’t worry about him, bubbles. he’s just a stick in the mud.. ” tsu said, nudging your shoulder. you took a breath as you finally pulled your gaze from bakugo. you turned to tsu, heart beating slightly faster than normal, and eyes drier than what you were used to.

“ s- sorry what? ” he made you distracted. completely derailing your train of thought with a grinding halt.

“ oh my gosh you like him, don’t you! ” you swatted ochaco’s arm, almost offended she thought such a thing.

she wasn’t wrong.. spot on in fact.

you couldn’t deny the feelings you had for your classmate, for your neighbor.

you threw your face in your hands, deep frown tugging at your lips. you squeezed your eyes shut as a warm hand landed on your back.

“ it will be okay bubbles, just don’t think about it.. okay? ” you heard ochaco’s voice say. you outwardly groaned, pushing all the air out your lungs.

the end of the day couldn’t come fast enough. you were overstimulated - the shuffling footsteps were too loud, the sliding of the classroom doors.. it was too much. you didn’t know you were shaking until you put your hands on the water fountain. you barely heard the footsteps approaching you from behind - everything seemed so dulled.. at least with the blood pounding behind your ears.

“ goddammit can’t get something to drink without- ”

“ why do you hate me so bad, hm? what could i have done when these are the first sentences i am ever speaking to you. ” your body didn’t give you a chance to process - give him a chance you process. you were already sliding open the door to your classroom when the words you said to him sank in.

he didn’t say anything to you since then. he didn’t look your way, and you didn’t look his. it was only a week since your last interaction, and yet bakugo couldn’t get you out of his head. across the lunch room, he watched you with narrowed eyes, palms sweatier than normal.

denki pulled away from conversation with their friends to look at bakugo following his gaze, a wide grin settling on his face.

“ dude, just go up to her. ” bakugo didn’t yell, to his friends’ surprise. all he did was push his chair out, the sound of which made everyone turn to face him, grab his tray and dump it before walking out. his hands were shoved into his pocket, lips fumbling with curse words as he made his way out of the cafe.

you were sound asleep, dreaming of something undeniably and utterly outlandish when you heard faint taps. you pulled yourself from sleep, you waited a while but you didn’t hear anymore. with a roll of your eyes, you laid back down, sinking back into your duvet sheets. just as you were drifting, the taps started again. they were coming from your window.

you pulled yourself out of bed, annoyance pooling at your throat. you pushed the curtains aside to see bakugo, pillow and tiny rocks in his hands.

what was he doing here?

you pushed up the window, looking down at him.

“ what? ” you whisper yelled he made his way up to your window, still holding the pillow.

“ can’t sleep. ” you pulled him in and watched him take off his shoes, when he looked back at you, his eyes were red, puffy. your eyes narrowed at the sight,

he walks over to your bed and sits on it, tossing the pillow somewhere with the rest of the ones on your bed. you followed him, questioning his puffy eyes.

“ have you been crying? ” he looked at you, glaring - no he was squinting - at you. you stood in front of him, arms crossed as you waited for a response.

“ don’t wanna talk about it. ” you frown but hold yourself back from rolling your eyes. you look for a response, eyes looking anywhere but his. you don’t feel his arms going around your waist when you find an answer.

“ then why are you here? ” your body stiffens, his head was pressed into your stomach, strong arms around your waist holding you tighter.

“ i need you.. ” you laugh instinctively, covering your mouth to not wake your parents.

“ you hate me, bakugo. ” you mumbled, you looked down at him, hoping he wouldn’t feel your bounding heart. bakugo’s arms didn’t release you when he laid down in your bed. a strangled yelp left your lips as you fell on his chest.

“ well i need you more than i hate you right now.. ”

x . since october . that is how long it’s been in my drafts

[beomiebear13]

Yeosang Head Canons

genre: smut

warning: pussy lover!yeosang (kind of), marking, dick sucking (Yeosang teaches), and regular dick sucking, ab riding, squirting & more. Not proofread!

a/n: someone requested more atz head canons so here’s Yeosang’s (my bias) version! I was going to write his first and this has been in my drafts for a while. I’ve been tweaking it for so long 😭 I will be taking more requests just ask! and DM me if you want something specific (if you can do that I’m sorta new to tumblr!!)

Yeosang who looks very innocent and acts very innocent are mutual friends/yours or his friends, both of your families, and his members. But no one knows that when he gets you alone, he’s the complete opposite. He’s snapping his hips into yours at an insane speed, making it hard to be quiet. He leaves bruises on your neck which you later cover up so he can keep his innocence.

Yeosang who teaches you how to suck his cock. He’s not small, no. And he’s bigger than average so when you told him that you were scared, being inexperienced and all, he understood and promised to teach you how. He wrapped your hand around his cock and put his hand on top. Your hand looked so small comparing to him. He guided your hand up and down at a slow pace. Eventually he let go, his head falling back and letting you continue on for yourself. But when you started to speed up, he lifted his head with furrowed eyebrows. What shocked him even more was when you dragging your tongue on the tip of his leaking cock.

Yeosang who was too focused with the game on his phone to realize how needy you are. So, when you climbed onto his figure, which was lying down in bed, he had finally noticed your need. Wanting to finish his game, he told you to stand up and take your shorts off. You did as you were told and took them off. You watched as he pulled him shirt up to show his abs. He grabbed your arm, guiding you to sit on his abs. You continued to do as you were guided to do but you were still confused. Until. He held onto your hip with one hand and moved you back and forth on his abs. A broken moan left your lips as you felt the hard muscle grind against your clit. He tapped your thigh as a way to keep going while he played his game. You kept going until you came over his thigh, legs shaking.

Yeosang who is desperate to make you feel good on the night of your anniversary. The way he’s on his knees and is looking up at you, waiting to please and to taste you. He’s just waiting for you to give him permission. And when you finally do, he’s quick to sit up further on his knees and eat your pussy like you are his last meal. He made lots of noises and when you pulled his hair, he would groan against your clit, stimulating you more.

Yeosang who slaps your pussy until you’re squirting and cumming all of your thighs and his hand. Lying on the edge of the bed, Yeosang standing over you, slapping your pussy and forcing you to sit up on your elbows and watch in the mirror as he does so. And when you close your legs because it gets too much, he’ll force them open and slap harder, extending the punishment again and again.

Yeosang who lets you suck his dick after he had a long day of practice. He came home throwing his bag somewhere and sat down. You had came down and asked how to make him feel better after he said how tense and tired he was. He immediately went into a manspread. You got the hint, goes down and taking his dick out. Sucking his dick, you placed one hand on his knee and jerked his dick with the other. He moaned as you deepthroated him. He sat up a bit, taking your hair down from the ponytail and separated 3 pieces. He started to braid your hair as you sucked his dick. (Based on: Peppers by Lana)

Yeosang who keeps his head buried deep in your pussy. He was on his 2 week break and everyday since then, he’s been all touchy, and has fucked you every single day since he got off. But, today was different. He didn’t fuck you but he’s eaten you out ever since around 8pm. It’s now 12am. He’d give you breaks..sometimes! But, he loves the taste of your pussy and misses it too much. When he lifts his head, his chin is dripping with your juices.

Yeosang who uses his deep voice to lead you to your orgasm. Whispering things in your ear like, “come on baby, you’re so close. I can feel it”, “you’re clenching so hard, baby,” or “come on I got you. Cum, baby.” In the end, his words are what made your orgasm hit harder than it usually does.

Yeosang who wins a game and makes you strip. You and Yeosang were playing a game of Truth or Strip. If you can’t answer the question/truth given, then you have to strip. Yeosang, being the dirty cheater he is, asked you hard and embarrassing question. In the middle of the game, you only had a bra and a skirt on while Yeosang was fully clothed. You ended up sighing and just taking all of your clothes anyway. You suddenly found both of yourselves naked and making out on Yeosang’s bed.

[aragaki]

Milo/Tank Cassettes

I wanted to make cassettes and descriptions for audios based on my Milo/Darlin thoughts but these have been sitting in my drafts so long I've accepted I'm not gonna make any more,,, so enjoy these!!

Found by Your Feisty Pack Member

Barcode: missedyou

Tank has been tracking Quinn on their own since they left their family in Washington. They stumbled on two of Quinn's friends during their hunt and took them on alone. Heavily injured and delirious from blood loss they couldn't stop themselves from going somewhere they were familiar with and ended up collapsing a block away from Milo's apartment. Milo, who is just making his way home finds them passed out and brings them back up to his apartment, and tries to patch them up as best as he can.

The two have a conversation with Milo filling them in on everything they missed and that they've been missed, which Tank expresses their doubt over. Tank is avoiding telling him the full extent of what's going on but says there's someone they need to take care of. Milo offers to help, offering his place to crash if they don't want to risk getting found by David. Milo is kept in the dark but is willing to back Tank up with what little they're letting him.

Your Pack Member Wants to Know More

Barcode: justwannahelp

Milo wakes up in the middle of the night and finds Tank in the living room wrapping new injuries. They look ready to fall apart and Milo doesn't think either of them has the skills to treat their wounds this time. He tries to press them for information about what happened but they shut him down, insisting that they handled it. Milo is getting frustrated that they aren't trusting him with what's going on when they're so willing to throw themselves into danger when he's putting himself at risk with the pack for them.

When Tank starts to freeze up and look like they might bail and handle it alone Milo backpedals and starts treating their wounds for them. He assures them that they can always come back to his apartment but wants them to open up when they're ready.

Your Alpha Corners Your Feisty Pack Member

Barcode: liarsgetcaught

David knows that not only is Quinn still at large and that Tank has been lying to him but they've been staying with Milo since they got back to Dahlia. With two pack members going behind his back, he confronts the wolf that's easier to find. Milo is stunned to learn that the person Tank is hunting is Quinn and struggles to comprehend how much danger Tank has been putting themselves and inadvertently the pack in.

David is both unsurprised and disappointed that Milo doesn't know the full extent of what he is getting into when trying to help Tank. Milo tries to explain that he didn't want to ask too many questions and risk making them run since Tank doesn't feel close to the pack and if they left they might not return. David tells him it's no excuse and makes it clear that Milo has put himself and the pack in just as much danger as Tank -- and broken David's trust in the process. He affirms that he's going to find Tank next and they're both expected to be at the next pack meeting. He leaves, telling Milo not to fuck up like that again.

Milo curses quietly to himself, taking a few deep breaths and trying not to cry. There's the sound of footsteps, then a number being dialed.

[narcissistshandler]

More of Jake Kim x top!male reader please! Like the reader help Jake to unwind after a long day (and also can you please add 69 position too, like somewhere in the story?) Thank you in advance!

𝗠𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗖*𝗖𝗞

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 male reader x jake kim/kim gimyung

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 top!amab! reader, bottom!jake, 69, blowjob (jake giving reader), rimming and fingering (reader giving jake), anal sex, very light sub/dom dynamic alternating between sub/dom jake and sub/dom reader

✧ 𝖠/𝖭 This one is another that was in my drafts for weeks because I got lost in the narrative, sorry for the delay

Not even if Jake wanted to he would be able to hide from you how tired he was, so even in front of your slightly worried look he just smiled as he let the bag slide from his shoulder to the floor, giving you that usual bright smile and fell into your open arms on the sofa in the living room. There were deep circles under his dark eyes, and even the daily phone calls weren't enough to make up for it when Jake spent the last few days away from home, training and looking to learn more about his dad.

"You need a shower," you said, arms tightening around his waist so you could hold him closer.

"Wow, thanks, I missed you too, [name]," he replied, feigning annoyance that broke within seconds as a chuckle escaped his lips. You weren't wrong though, Jake spent the last few hours on on a long journey in a stuffy bus because it was the last option if he wanted to get home today and Jake couldn't stand being one day longer away from you, from what was left of the Big Deal and from home.

"I missed you," you stated, lifting his chin with your index finger so you could take his lips in a kiss. "So much."

Jake melted against your chest, the weight in his shoulders seeming to melt away as your lips molded against each other. His mouth dropped open for you in a show of submission that didn't sit well with him. But Jake was damn tired and he couldn't think of anything better than to lay back and let you have your way with him.

You pulled back, breaking the kiss, your hands trailing down Jake's rigid back over the sweat-soaked t-shirt - from shoulder blades to coccyx.

"You're tense," you commented. "Dinner, shower and sleep?"

And as tempting as that offer was, Jake countered:

"Bath and you fuck me until I pass out?"

One of your hands came up to run through his hair and Jake could almost see the thoughts running through your head, but more than that, he could feel you slowly getting hard against his stomach and he almost instinctively moved to touch you, hand open falling over the tent that formed in your pants.

"You-" you started, but cut yourself off with a soft moan, eyes darkening. "Okay, whatever you want, yeobo."

The freezing water under that Jake did his best to take a quick shower under and make sure his body was clean for you was unable to lessen the heat building in his body like flames slowly getting bigger. The odor of sweat was replaced by the smell of soap and water and when Jake pressed two fingers inside himself to make sure he was ready and clean for you, his dick reacted in an interested twitch even under the cold spray. That's when he decided he couldn't wait another minute.

You were sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, naked — as Jake had ordered you before entering the bathroom —, cock hard against the stomach with the head red and oozing, begging to be touched, you didn't however, never would dare touch yourself without Jake's express and clear permission and you hadn't received it in weeks.

It was hard to know which of you two was more looking forward to having the other after so long apart.

Jake dripped all the way from the bathroom to the bed, wet footprints and water droplets left behind on the floor and then onto the sheet as he climbed onto the bed. In erotic familiarity, placing each leg on either side of your hips and sitting on top of you, like a king on a throne. The feel of your bare skins touching sent an instant thrill through his veins.

Your hands landed on his hips, cocks mere inches apart. Jake melted under the attention, an almost basic need to be near you, under you or over you igniting all of his senses, more than he needed to breathe or eat or sleep or drink, he needed you and it was getting harder and harder keep thinking straight.

"How do you want this, jagiya?" The title of 'sir' or 'boss' or 'master' for when you felt more submerged and obedient than usual wasn't there today, although the lightness in your tone was the same as usual, a silent plea for 'please tell me what to do'.

"First," Jake began, gently rocking his hips. Your cocks rubbed together briefly, the sensitive tips bumping into each other and mixing the leaking pre-cum before Jake's hips drew back again. Your fingers tightened on his waist as you watched the lustful display. "Kiss me."

You did. You kissed him hard and longingly, wistful after all the days you spent apart, fingers sinking into his skin and pulling him against you as your tongue slipped into his mouth.

Jake's mouth opened easily for you, hand finding your hard cock that pressed against his. You were already wet for him, already oozing even though he barely touched you.

Jake's fingers barely closed around your cock and each pull drew familiar, erotic sounds from you that were lost in the kiss. He knew you made even more delicious sounds when his mouth was on you, when your cock worked its way down his throat at whatever pace Jake decided he wanted. His mouth watered at the faint memory of your smell and taste; hole tightening.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss and lowered his attention to watch the bulbous head of your cock disappearing between his thin, callused fingers, semi-transparent beads of pre-cum wetting them.

"I want you inside," he said, the honey-sweet words rolling off his tongue. "Get me ready for your cock."

You snarled like a wild animal and he felt your cock twitch in the grip of his hand. Jake can't help but laugh, proud of himself for having such an effect on you.

"Go get the lube and stop teasing me or I might come before I even get inside you."

"Dare and I'll put a chastity belt on you."

Jake gave you two last tugs, finding it difficult to stop touching you before getting off of you and crawling to the end of the bed where he could reach the lube on the nightstand among other toys stored there.

You fixed your pillow and moved to lay on the bed, patting your chest. "Come here."

He went with a wide, perverted smile on his thin lips, handing the lube into your hands before positioning himself as you wanted.

Your free hands soon returned to help him position himself, pulling him back until his ass was close to your face. Jake's legs sank bent into the mattress, wet cock dragging against your chest and your own cock ending up at a tempting distance from his face. Despite the excitement bubbling in his stomach, the new position brings a flush to his cheeks. Jake couldn't stop thinking about how he must look in your eyes, all open and exposed and within easy reach of you; tight balls visible between the legs and hole twitching where you could now see with your hands holding his ass cheeks apart. Embarrassment aside, he really liked it.

Your breath hit against the wrinkled muscles, a mere forewarning of what was to come before your tongue made the first contact. Jake melted with a loud groan, falling completely flat on top of you, all strength seeming to leave his body.

Your fingers dig into his skinny ass, spreading it further apart as your face sinks against him, your tongue, wet and soft and so good, rubbing against the tightly contracted muscles, licking and kissing and making his hole a mess of saliva and spit. Completely dirty.

His entire body shudders under the stimulation and your tongue is fucking him, pressing its way inside and the muscles in his legs immediately tense, rocking back powerless against the heat of your mouth as he struggles to get more of your tongue, needy. And it's not enough and at the same time it's so much, so much and he wants more, deeper, more-

Jake knew he was being loud, he knew he was being damn loud and damn needy as he rocked back against your mouth, one of his hands reaching behind to help keep himself open as he felt one of your fingers easily slide inside his relaxed hole, and then another one. He had missed it. Missed you, the sex with you.

With his other hand, Jake took your cock and brought it to his mouth, eyes falling closed as the familiar weight slid into his mouth and onto his tongue, the bitter taste of your pre-cum making him moan as soon as it hit his senses.

Your tongue pressed inside him, right between the two fingers you held scissors apart inside him and a muscle in his leg jumped. He could feel his hole opening and closing, tightening around the intrusion, the combined sensations of your fingers and tongue eliciting a insane pleasure from him.

Mind overheated, Jake didn't even notice that his mouth had stopped working. He just kept your cock in the heat of his mouth, making no move to suck or lick. Like your personal cock warmer, saliva pooling on his tongue and eyes drooping shut in an attempt to deal with the intensity of your touch, he gave in to the sensations. It was a strange thought that didn't scare him, if Jake could pick his paradise then this would be it: rationality turned off with sweetness by your hands and mouth, body being used by you.

Jake's cock dripped nonstop, occasionally twitching where it was pressed between your and his bodies. His feet sank into the sheets, legs trying constantly to close, body continuing trying to curl and tighten in involuntary reactions.

Your fingers slid along the sensitive walls, just a little deeper, seeming to play with him; in, out, rubbing and pressing, until your fingers curled inside him, hitting his prostate and a moan died in Jake's throat.

His entire body was so hot Jake didn't even notice his cock spilling out. The orgasm came easy and smooth, coursing through him in gentle shock waves that had his hole clenching around your fingers so hard it felt like it wanted to suck on them. Moans echoed around your cock in his mouth, spittle running down his parted lips and then chin.

You gently rocked your fingers in and out of him, helping him ride out the orgasm, wet tongue sloppily licking the rim that clung to your digits. Jake clamped his lips around your cock, sucking weakly as small shock waves ran down his spine. His dick twitched again, spilling every last drop onto your chest, his balls squeezing tightly.

Then your fingers were gone, leaving him devastatingly empty. A whimper rose all the way up his throat.

“Shhh,” you shushed him. "Hush now, love."

Your firm hands moved up to his hips, moving him off of you with an ease that never failed to make Jake's mind short circuit. He loved it when you moved him. He went easily, mouth now empty, letting you lay him down on the bed, chest against the sheets, muscles relaxed and malleable under your power.

"I'm going to fuck you now, yes?"

Jake groaned, gripping the sheet between his fingers, eagerly spreading his legs for you.

He couldn't force himself to form coherent words and he didn't even need to, all that existed was the fat head of your cock wet with Jake's saliva pressed against the open, relaxed rim.

Then you sank inside him, with one thrust. Jake felt his muscles being stretched with a burning sensation that sizzled through his spine, your cock pushing its way in until it sits completely deep inside, your hips resting against his ass. The preparation hadn't been enough to rid him of the pain, you both knew that the burn of stretching always left Jake trembling, yearning for more.

“So tight for me, Jake,” you murmur, lips against the heated skin of his shoulder. "So good, so sweet, such a pretty whore."

Jake sobs at the praise, eyes falling closed as he surrenders to the overwhelm of being filled, the sensation almost too much, leaving him trembling beneath you, sweet hole quivering and twitching, sweat running down the back of his neck.

And you just stay there, weight steady against his lean back, rolling your hips against him without rushing, feeling Jake's hole opening and relaxing gently against the pressure, like he was made for this, like he was made for your cock and nothing else.